by speaking couplets. I’m still trying to get the hang of it.”
“Wow, I never heard of spelling magic.” Trina looked at B more closely. “My magic’s offbeat, too. Speaking spells doesn’t work for me. I’ve got to sing them.”
“A singing witch!” B smiled. “And that fits, since you’re such an incredible singer anyway.” Then B snapped her fingers. “That’s it!”
Trina nodded.
“What’s
it?” George asked.
“The reason the Black Cats broke up. I get it! You can’t have a singing witch singing all those songs. It would turn the world upside down.”
Trina sighed. “Pretty much. I caused a lot of havoc before we figured it out. I moved out here tolive with my grandma. She’s a singing witch like me. She’s trying to help me control my powers, but it’s not easy.”
“I know what you mean,” B said. “Maybe in the M.R.S. library there’s a book that explains what to do about that. If there was a way you could sing with the band again, would you want to?”
“More than anything,” Trina said. “I miss it so much. I feel like a fish out of water without my singing.”
“Wow,” George said. “I can’t believe it. Both my friends have these amazing superpowers, and what’ve I got? A decent soccer scoring average. Big deal.”
“It
is
a big deal,” B said. “You’re going to be a soccer star someday! That’s a superpower. And believe me, magic isn’t everything. Sometimes it’s more trouble than it’s worth. You’ve seen it yourself.”
B knew that George remembered some of B’s magical mishaps, yet he still didn’t seem convinced.
“Friendship matters more than magic,” Trina said, looking at them both seriously. “You’re a terrificfriend, George. Both of you are. I’m really lucky to have met you.” She smiled. “Thanks for your help with the Jason switcheroo after school, too.”
B dropped her backpack on the ground. “After school,” she repeated.
“Right
after school. Oh, no!”
Her magic test! She’d forgotten all about it! B scooped up her bag, turned around, and started running.
“Wait up!” George was chasing her.
“What’s the matter?” Trina was following, too.
B’s feet tore up the sidewalk. What should she tell them? She didn’t want Trina to know that she was such a witching disaster that she needed a remedial makeup magic test.
“I, uh, have a tutoring appointment with a teacher after school,” B managed to gasp between sprinting strides. “Forgot about it. Hope I’m not too late! See you tomorrow.”
B vaulted up the school stairs in one giant step, wrenched the door open, and skidded through the freshly waxed corridors.
“Watch where you’re going,” the janitor hollered after her.
She threw open the door to Mr. Bishop’s room. He was at his desk reading a book. He closed the pages with a thud.
“I’m sorry!” she blurted out. “I had a friend emergency, and I just …”
B’s voice trailed off when she saw the look on Mr. Bishop’s face.
“Keeping Madame Mel waiting is generally not the wisest idea,” he said. “I called and postponed your test after you didn’t show up.”
B’s knees wobbled. She slid into a chair. Saved! “Thanks.”
“If we leave right now, we’ll just make your new appointment.” He reached for B’s arm, uttered a couplet, and in seconds the traveling spell deposited them once more in the corridor outside Madame Mel’s curious door. Her head poked out before they could even knock.
“Hurry in, hurry in!” Madame Mel intoned. “Heavens, how I hate to be kept waiting!” She seemed annoyed, but not really cross. B still couldn’t believe her good luck. She hoped it would hold long enough for her to pass the test.
B followed the Grande Mistress of the M.R.S. into her office, spotted Hermes on the carpet, and quickly began the first spell. “S-P-E-A-K —”
“Ah, hold it there a minute.” Madame Mel cut her off. “Each test is different. Can’t have you knowing the