Free Wart by Anna Myers Page B

we need her help to figure this all out." Ham didn't say anything. "Okay? You hear me, Ham?"
    Ham shrugged. "Okay, okay. Don't get excited."
    "Sure," said Stewart. "Getting involved with a witch isn't anything to get worked up over." He turned to go toward English class.
    Somehow, he kept his mind on the lesson about gerunds, and he was surprised by how interested he was in the earthquake discussion in science class. How could he concentrate on school right now? Maybe Ms. Gibbs had already cast a spell on him. "There she is," Ham said to Stewart as they walked toward third period art class.
    Stewart didn't say anything, couldn't form a word in his totally dry throat. Ms. Gibbs stood beside the door and watched them move toward her. Squirming, he imagined her eyes shot fiery darts into his body. He ducked his head, studying his shoes as he shuffled forward. Even Ham was quiet. Just before they got to the room, Stewart dropped back to follow Ham.
    He was so close to Ms. Gibbs that their shoulders almost touched, but he did not look up. "How nice to see you, Stewart, or is it Wart?" Her words were almost a whisper. She reached out, and for just a half second, she touched his shoulder, ever so lightly. "You must decide, you know."
    It was the longest class Stewart had ever suffered through. Each time Ms. Gibbs turned his way, he pretended to be absorbed in drawing. He put his energy into hoping she did not come to stand beside him, and she did not.
    When the bell rang, Stewart bolted out the door, leaving his art stuff for Ham to put away. He headed straight to the cafeteria. Ms. Gibbs wouldn't come in there to talk to him in front of everyone. Still, he kept looking back as he stood in line. He chose an empty table and sat facing the door. He did not want to be surprised. After what seemed like a long time, Rachel and then Ham came to join him.
    "Did she say anything to you?" Stewart asked when Ham had dropped his tray on the table.
    "Nope. Didn't even look my way." Ham sat down. "You going to eat that corn dog?"
    "No, but don't get any ideas about the chocolate cake."
    "What we have to get ideas about," said Rachel, "is a plan of action."
    "I'm even half hoping I don't get to play in the game at all." Stewart started on the cake. "I don't want her putting some kind of spell on me." He shifted on the cafeteria bench. "Do I?"
    Ham shrugged. "Look at it this way, if she's determined to help you, why not go along with it? I mean, it isn't like you have much choice about having her in your life. You might as well get some good from it."
    "Or some proof," said Rachel. "If you go along with her, maybe we can get some proof that she's a witch." She twisted her face. "You know, I've got a feeling her power has something to do with that green necklace. She's never without it." She nodded decidedly. Stewart studied his plate and wished he could be as certain of anything as Rachel always was.
    In gym class Coach Knox was all hyped up over the game. He even called the team, "men" in an effort to build their confidence. "When you're out on the court this afternoon in the middle of the action, remember you're a Ram, and you're representing us all," he said in a tone like they were going out to save the nation. "It's a big responsibility."
    "Don't look so worried, Wart," said Brad to Stewart under his breath. "You probably won't have to be in the middle of the action. Not much happens on the bench."
    Stewart just looked at him. He wondered why Brad had turned so mean, but maybe it was just so he could use the nickname. Stewart had to admit the use of that name would be hard to resist. Oh well, Brad couldn't get to him, not now. What did Brad Wilson know about action? Had he ever battled a witch?
    The game was right after school. Stewart kind of got into the spirit of things during the warm-up, really felt pretty good out there in his red and blue uniform, representing the whole school. He enjoyed passing the ball and shooting even though he