Changing Michael Read Online Free Page B

Michael, turning left and away from the noise of the road.
    I stopped to watch.
    â€œYou can’t run away from the people who care about you!” I yelled. “I know where you live!”
    Michael stopped and stared.
    â€œThe bookstore’s this way,” he said.
    â€œOh.”
    â€œAnd could you please stop yelling?” he said as I caught up to him.
    â€œMaybe.”
    The side street took us past a few more brick houses, although these were bigger than Michael’s and more like the ones near school. Someone had converted one of the houses into a second-hand bookstore. The sign outside was hand-painted—a woman’s face, with hair that grew and flowered like a vine:“Hole in the Wall Books.”
    â€œI’ll bet she’s magic,” I said. “I wonder if she gets bees in her hair.”
    Michael ignored me. He bounded up the three stairs to the front stoop and barged through the door. Little bells rang as he disappeared inside.
    I lingered at the bottom, watching the door as it shuddered to a close.
    Do I really want to follow Michael into a used bookstore?
    I hadn’t been in many, but the handful I’d visited seemed to have a few things in common:
    1) They smelled.
    2) The people who worked inside were always very eager to help.
    It would mean yet another sacrifice, and still more discomfort, but I’d come this far and felt I had to see things through.
    I reluctantly turned the doorknob, sounded the little bells, and stepped in. As I imagined, the air inside was musty. Tall, mismatched bookcases formed a maze of tight passageways. No sign of Michael, but that didn’t bother me. If I needed him, I’d just make a scene.
    Here and there, little cardboard arrows pointed the way to “German Philosophers” and “Tolkien Lore.” Not exactly “Fiction” versus “Nonfiction.” I picked through a section devoted to elves and elf culture that eventually merged with dwarves and dwarf history. It was kind of cool, in a geeky sort of way.
    I squatted down to look at the section on “Elf Culture.”
    I had to admit: Some of the covers were pretty interesting.
    A city suspended in a giant tree. A dragon peering from behind a half-opened door in the middle of an overgrown field.
    I started to feel like a little kid again. For a minute, I almost started to think like one—as if maybe, if I read these books, I’d know where to find the places on the covers.
    Anyway, I could see why Michael was so into them. And I guessed it wouldn’t take much to convince him that a bathroom door was actually a portal to an alternate universe.
    And if my life was like Michael’s, I’d probably take the first portal I found.
    Speaking of Michael, where is he, anyway?
    I stood up and almost had a heart attack.
    Some dork in a stained green t-shirt was smiling at me from around a bookshelf. He had little round glasses and a chin beard that looked like a miniature mud flap.
    â€œYou like Eager?” Mud Flap asked.
    It sounded like some kind of pick-up line.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œYou into Eager?” he repeated, nodding at the book in my hand.
    â€œOh,” I said, noticing the name on the cover. “Not really.”
    â€œYou should check it out,” he said. “I think you’d like it.”
    â€œYeah, thanks,” I said, putting it back.
    He kept smiling at me, so I opened my eyes real wide and stared. He got the message and pulled his fat head back around the bookcase.
    I stood up, deciding I’d done enough research for one day. I headed down the aisle, took a few turns, and ended up right back with the elves and dwarves. I tried another direction, but then found myself in a corner surrounded by graphic novels, manga, and whatever else they call comic books.
    There was a small, rectangular table in the middle of the alcove. Lidless white boxes were packed tight across every inch of surface space. In