Free Bras & Broomsticks by Sarah Mlynowski Page A

spaghetti and tofu balls. Miri sits down next to me, the book in her lap.
    “You figured it out?” I ask, excitement rising. “Did you figure out a popularity spell, too?”
    “Forget about your cool spell for now, okay? I’m concentrating on Dad’s issue. And I half figured it out. Since we can’t put an anti-love spell on Dad, we have to use a spell that will make him realize how awful STB is so he’ll fall out of love with her on his own.”
    Perfecto. “What kind of spell?”
    She shrugs. “That’s all I got.”
    “That’s it?”
    “I had homework, and Tae Kwon Do to practice, too,” she huffs. “Besides, I can’t come up with all the ideas.”
    Now is not the time to argue. “Well . . . what can STB do that can make Dad stop wanting her? What if she robs a bank?”
    “Should I wish for a pistol or a machine gun?” Miri gives me a you-left-your-brain-at-school look. “I’m trying to make the world a better place, not more dangerous.”
    Maybe that was a bit much. I rub my thumbs against my temples. “Let’s think. What does he see in her?”
    “He’s attracted to evil?”
    “Get real, Miri. He’s attracted to her looks. Those eyes, that skin, the smile . . .”
    Miri claps. “That’s it! We hit her with an ugly spell.”
    “But is Dad that superficial?”
    “He must be,” Miri says. “What else could he possibly like about her? He’s blinded by her”—she pretends to gag—“beauty, and he can’t see what an evil person she is. The spell will cast her in a new light. We’re looking after his best interests. What happens when she gets old and her face sags? Is he going to get divorced? If he’s remarrying, he has to love the woman for who she is inside, right?”
    Wow. That was some speech. “Right.”
    “So, let’s do it,” she continues excitedly. “I saw something that might work.” She flips frantically through the book. “Here it is. It’s called the Mask of Repulsion. Sounds good, huh? Let’s make a list of the ingredients we need.” She jumps up, ready for action.
    Does having magical powers excite Miri? Oh, no. But making a list? Be still my heart!
    “Mir, we don’t have to do it this second,” I say, remembering my math homework. “We’re not going back to Dad’s until next weekend.”
    She narrows her eyes. “Do you think it’s going to be easy to locate these ingredients? I don’t have a clue what Taraxacum officinale is. And we have to practice.”
    Scratch, scratch. Scratch, scratch. Meow . “Your groupie is trying to scratch his way into my room,” I say. Wait a sec. “Who are you practicing on?”
    She winks at me.
    Is she crazy? “No way! You are not using me as your ugly-spell dummy. I can’t be A-list looking like an ogre!”
    She opens the door a crack, and Tigger dashes inside and plops himself directly on A 2 .
    The halogen bulb in my brain flicks on and I see my next play. “I understand that you’re nervous,” I say, backpedaling. “You could turn STB into a tree by mistake. So . . . why don’t you practice doing another spell on me? Like say, perhaps, a popularity spell.”
    She waves her arms like white flags in defeat. “All right, fine. Whatever you want. I’ll find you a popularity spell. But for the record, you’re being pathetic.”
    Touchdown! “Yes, I’m pathetic. Pathetically happy!”
    “And,” she says, smiling, “you’re going to owe me. Big.”
    Ah, the witch turns mercenary. Isn’t that always the case? “What do you want?”
    She whips out a typed list from the spell book. Apparently, she’s been waiting for just the right moment to spring it on me. “For the next two weeks you will, one, set the table and clear the dishes.” My mother has us on an alternating schedule of setting and clearing the table, so we’re both only supposed to have to do one each day. I wonder if dear old Mom will notice if I take over both duties. Probably not. “Two,” Miri says. “You’re on trash duty.”
    “Sure,