Free Me, My Elf & I by Heather Swain Page A

chases him around a table and through the courtyard. “I’m casting me a spell. Gonna turn those girls into dogs for real!”
    Oh right, I think to myself while I watch their silly erdler interpretation of the dark arts. I tend to forget that here witches are old scary women on broomsticks who stir big black cauldrons while elves are three feet tall and live in some little wizard twerp’s closet under the stairs. If only casting spells were so easy, I think as I shove the flyer in my bag.
     
    After school, I’m the first one in the room for the ELPH audition meeting. I think I must be in the wrong place until a man comes in carrying a briefcase. “Great look,” he says, then studies me for a moment before he exclaims, “See, this is why I love running auditions at this school. You kids totally embrace the characters. Although . . .”—and here he drops his voice and leans in closer to me as he opens his briefcase—“I have to say that this is probably a bit fancy for an elf, don’t you think?” He points to the intricate embroidery covering the neckline and cuffs of my tunic. “I mean, elves are simple creatures. Mischievous little wood sprites.”
    “Oh really?” I ask, trying to keep from laughing. Before he can start in on the Keebler Elves and Snap, Crackle, and Pop, girls stream through the open door. I see Rienna (the pink fairy) and lift my hand to wave to her, but she turns away quickly so I find a seat off to the side by myself. I put my bag on an empty chair beside me for Mercedes.
    As the man hands around packets of information and chats with some of the girls who give him head shots and résumés, I see Bella enter the room. I notice that she’s changed clothes since lunch today and now wears a short, fitted green dress with flowing sleeves. She’s added a brown sash around her waist and a simple silver necklace with a leaf pendant. Right behind her is Chelsea. Everyone shrinks back and pales as those two girls stride across the room.
    “Hi, Mr. O’Donnell.” Bella lays her hand on the man’s arm.
    “Bella! ” he exclaims. She steps in for a kiss on the cheek. “I was hoping you’d make it. I spoke with Suzy at your agency and she said she’d courier over your portfolio.”
    “Oh good,” says Bella with a toss of her hair. “I didn’t have any left at home. I’ve been so busy with requests, lately.”
    “This is a great look, by the way,” the man tells her. “See girls,” he addresses the rest of us. “You could learn something here. Dress the part, girls, and dress the part correctly.” His eyes land on me but he points to Bella as if I should be taking cues on elfin behavior and style from a mean erdler girl like her.
    Instantly, I’m incensed. What is it with these erdlers and their silly stereotypes about who we are? Telling me I should look more like Bella —what a joke! My teeth grind together, my eyes narrow, everything in the room goes fuzzy, and I feel fire shooting up inside my belly. I bet if he knew there was a real elf in this room, he’d sweat right through his shirt he’d be so nervous. Which gives me an idea. I bring my hands together over my mouth and nose and breathe the heat of my body into my palms, then release it out toward that stupid troll who doesn’t know the difference between an elf and an elephant. It doesn’t take long for Mr. O’Donnell’s cheeks to turn pink, then red, and tiny beads of perspiration to prickle across his top lip and forehead. He sticks a finger into the collar of his shirt and tugs to loosen his tie.
    “Whew.” He takes off his suit jacket. “Did it suddenly get to be like a hundred degrees in here? Doesn’t this place have air-conditioning?” I can see sweat rings forming under his arms and I’m giddy with delight, at first.
    Bella and Chelsea saunter away from the suddenly sweaty man and head straight for me. I shrink back, afraid that I’ve been caught in the act of hexing. Why did I do it? But apparently