Protagonist Bound Read Free Page B

how hard I tried, I could never seem to be anything but. And someday I would have to try to make peace and make sense of that.
    After being sufficiently reacquainted with her winged friends, SJ waved good-bye and we returned inside. As I approached my desk I realized that my hands had stopped burning.
    Weird , I thought, as I examined them. They seemed completely normal—no burning sensations, no pain. Whatever had been causing the problem had been taken care of, it seemed. So I brushed off the odd experience as SJ and I continued with our unpacking.
    While my bed and desk occupied the center of the long room, SJ’s inhabited the left side. There were dozens of glass animal figurines perched on her desk, which she’d been collecting for years now. Mounted on the wall behind her desk was a rendering of an old woman in a checkered apron.
    Originally, I’d assumed the picture was of one of SJ’s relatives. Although the elderly woman did bear a striking resemblance to the lady who sold churros two blocks away from our castle back home. They were really good ones, too—crispy, always fresh, and covered in enough sugar to make your teeth hurt . . .
    Dang, now I want churros. Why didn’t Mom and I stop there on our way over here?
    That’s a seriously major oversight on my part.
    But I digress, as that is so not the point right now.
    The poster lady was neither a relative of SJ’s nor a local churro vendor. She was actually Madame Curio, the realm’s most famous potions master and SJ’s total hero. You see, SJ was an amateur potionist herself. Well, she would say amateur to be modest. The truth was, she had a gift for it and had been at the top of every potions class we’d ever taken. It was, without a doubt, her favorite and best subject.
    Our third roommate, Blue, had her desk and bed on the right side of the room. To my surprise, a super girly unicorn poster with a rainbow was taped on the wall just above her desk. I was about to point this peculiarity out to SJ when a large hunting knife suddenly flew across the room and nailed the unicorn poster dead center.
    Blue.
    Our dear friend Blue Dieda stomped into the room and headed straight toward the poster.
    “Ugh!” she groaned. “They can never leave up my normal stuff, can they?”
    Blue proceeded to remove her knife, which was firmly indented into the wall from the force of the throw, and take down the unicorn poster. Then she reached into her duffle bag, pulled out a folded-up poster, and taped it to the wall in its place. This one had a picture of a knight mercilessly stabbing a giant black dragon.
    She sighed with relief. “That’s better.”
    At that, Blue whirled around and gave us one of her classic, giant grins.
    “Hi guys!” she said, the annoyance in her voice replaced with happiness.
    “Hi, Blue,” I said as we gave each other a huge hug.
    “Blue,” SJ lectured, “I know I cannot stop you from throwing knives in our room, but a warning would be nice. You gave me a small heart attack.”
    “Nice to see you too, SJ,” Blue responded as the two exchanged hugs.
    Blue’s book had appeared courtesy of the Author almost four years ago, but at the time it was already the middle of the school year. With few free spaces available, SJ and I had subsequently volunteered to let her have the empty bed in our room. A fateful and rewarding choice since it wasn’t long before she became a true best friend to both of us.
    To put it in its simplest terms, I totally loved her.
    For starters, it was refreshing to meet someone at Lady Agnue’s, or anywhere really, who wasn’t afraid to be completely frank about their strengths and weaknesses.
    A second admirable quality of Blue’s was the way she carried herself. She walked around every day with complete confidence. She never doubted herself, never hesitated, and never cared about what anyone else thought of her.
    I glanced at my friend as she started to unpack the suitcase she’d dragged in. Unlike us, Blue