Read Online Better Than Weird by Anna Kerz - Free Book Online Page B

his throat as he took off again, running.
    This time he didn’t stop until he reached the walkway to his house. Home , he thought. Home safe. But with his next step, his foot landed on an icy patch. His arms rose instinctively, whirling, struggling for balance. It did no good. The ground below him vanished, and he fell. Pain, red as a fireball, exploded behind his eyes. He yelped.
    Behind him, the voice said, “Gotcha now.”
    Frantic, Aaron scrambled forward on hands and knees and crawled up the steps to the veranda. At the top he glanced back to see a gray figure on the road behind him: a warrior preparing for battle; a warrior standing, legs apart, packing a snowball, taking his time.
    Aaron rushed to the door, but the snowball whomped into the back of his head, making it snap forward, then back. Ice ball, he thought as his glasses flew off.
    â€œBull’s-eye!” the warrior shouted. He laughed when Aaron dropped to his knees. “Praying won’t help!” the warrior called.
    Aaron picked up his glasses, but before he could put them on, a second snowball splattered the wall beside him, sending bits of snow and ice into his face. He squeezed his eyes shut and reached for the knob. When the door opened, he fell inside and scrabbled across the mat into the hallway. He turned then and shoved at the door until he heard the latch click shut.
    â€œYou can run, but you can’t hide,” the voice called. Tufan’s voice. He was sure now. Tufan’s voice. “I’ll get you tomorrow.”
    Aaron groaned. He pushed his glasses back on his face and sagged against the door. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow. The word echoed. Tomorrow I die.

THIRTEEN
    Aaron crouched on the hallway floor, his face dripping, his glasses fogged. He pulled them off, letting them drop as he blinked water out of his eyes. Then he lifted his hand to rub away the wetness. The movement sent waves of pain shooting to his shoulder and he yelped again.
    â€œAaron? Is that you, Aaron?” Gran’s voice. “I’m in the basement,” she called. “I’ll be right up.”
    Leaning against the door, he pushed himself to his feet before he staggered along the hallway and up the stairs to the bathroom.
    Once inside, he locked the door and shrugged off his coat. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” he moaned as the weight of the coat slid down his arm. He took a deep breath and gingerly hiked up the sleeve of his sweatshirt. The hurting part seemed to be at the back of his arm, but it was hard to see. He tried looking over his shoulder into the mirror, but the hurting part stayed just out of sight.
    I need eyes on the back of my head, he thought, remembering something Gran often said. Her words had always made Aaron giggle as he tried to imagine how hard it would be for ‘back of the head’ eyes to see through all the hair. Now he wished his head had extra eyes.
    â€œAaron! Are you upstairs, Aaron?”
    He groaned. There was anger in Gran’s voice and in the thump of her footsteps as she came up the stairs.
    â€œDo you know where you left your glasses? You left them on the floor beside the front door! And the carpet is soaked. Did you go upstairs wearing your boots? What’s the matter with you? Where is your head today?”
    Aaron looked into the bathroom mirror. His head was where it always was. He looked down. A puddle was forming on the bathroom tiles.
    â€œUh-oh,” he muttered. He kicked one boot into the space beside the toilet, the other against the cabinet, before he picked them up and dropped them into the bathtub.
    â€œAaron! Open the door!” Gran ordered.
    â€œI have to go,” Aaron called out as he pulled a towel off the rack. He dropped it to the floor and stepped on it, hoping to soak up the water so Gran wouldn’t notice.
    â€œAaron! Open this door!” Gran was shouting now.
    â€œJeez! Give me a minute!” he called back, giving the floor a last swipe