whispered, “I’m turning myself in.”
“Aw, come on,” he said. “Can’t you wait till after the game? I’m gonna play like crazy today. I can just feel it. Did you see how fast I was running yesterday at the zoo?”
“Don’t remind me,” B said. “Personally, I might need a lifetime to forget yesterday at the zoo.”
“But I need to be the Zebra to help us win the game!” George pleaded.
Before B could respond, Mr. Bishop came into the room and class began. B watched her teacher like a hawk for any sign of special attention paid to George, curiosity,
anything.
But her magical English teacher seemed just like his usual cheerful self. He was decked out in school colors like everyone else, and wearing a cap with a huge tiger mascot made of foam rubber on top. He even complimented George on his school spirit, all without any sign of concern.
When class ended, George stood up to leave, but B grabbed his arm.
“We’re ending this now,” she whispered. She felt bad about disappointing George, but it was time to fix this.
The other students had filed out, and B practically dragged George to Mr. Bishop’s desk.
“Ready for the big game?” Mr. Bishop asked George.
“I sure am,” George said. “I’m more ready than I’ve ever been.”
B’s heart started thumping and she wanted to bolt out of the room, but she forced herself to stay. Dismantle Squad or no, she was going to have to face the consequences of her magic. “We really need your help, Mr. Bishop.”
Mr. Bishop sat up. “Anything you need, B.”
She was going to do it — confess that she had told George about her magic, that she had turned him into a zebra, and that she’d been hiding it for days — but in the long pause, George interrupted her.
“B and I really want you to come to the game and cheer on the team,” George declared, nudging B hard.
B stared at her best friend.
Mr. Bishop smiled. “Of course! I’ve got to support my students and my school, right? I’ll be there.”
“Great!” George said, grabbing B’s arm and pulling her away. “Gotta get to lunch now. I need my carbs.”
In the hallway, George whispered, “Come on, B. Just let me have a couple more hours and then you can confess.”
B sighed. If she had left it too late and the spell was actually permanent, it would be the least she could do to let George have his moment of glory as a superathlete.
“Okay,” she agreed.
George let out an excited whinny and galloped off.
B followed slowly, brooding.
Would she lose her magic forever? Would she bebanned from the witching community? What would happen to George?
Had too much time passed since the first spell was cast? Would he remain a zebra-boy forever? Stripes today, forelegs tomorrow. That was probably how it would go.
He wouldn’t be able to live at home anymore — they’d put him in the zoo. The zoo that B was banned from visiting!
She ate her lunch like it was her last meal.
After school, B went outside and climbed to the far end of the topmost bleacher to wait for the soccer game to start. She was too upset to want to talk to anyone.
The referees in their black-and-white striped jerseys ran out onto the field. B winced at the sight. Zebras everywhere!
Then the home team ran out to the loud beat of their warm-up song. They waved to the crowd in the rapidly filling bleachers, then each player pounded a ball into an unguarded goal. The juniorcheerleaders squealed when George, as team captain, kicked the last ball in.
“Goooooooo, TIGERS!” the cheerleaders screamed. “Gimme a T! Gimme an I! Gimme a G!”
B was almost glad she didn’t feel like cheering. Those cheerleaders nearly tricked her into turning the whole squad into preteen tigresses. Pretty soon she’d have her own zoo, right here at the school.
Just then, Mr. Bishop climbed up the bleacher steps and sat next to another teacher, still wearing his crazy tiger cap. B felt her body stiffen at the sight of him.
No more magic
Learning to Kill: Stories