Free Kelly McClymer-Salem Witch 03 She's A Witch Girl by Kelly McClymer Page A

us.”
    Tara said, in a rare moment of camaraderie, “I think we’re pretty sharp already. When you came, it was like you stuck us into a cheer sharpener and here we are, pointy and shiny.”
    We all laughed, even though it wasn’t exactly the best analogy ever. Like I said, that level of unity can be dangerous or powerful, depending on how it’s used.
    “Pru! Our cheer-whisperer.” Tara held up one of my arms. “Let’s do it for Pru.”
    Sunita asked, “Are you going to whisper to us today too?”
    “Yes.” Tara and I had decided we couldn’t risk taking chances with everyone’s confidence level.
    Charity frowned. “Is that fair?”
    “I think so. There’s no harm in it, I’m just backing up the music cues. I can do it aloud, if you think that’s more fair.”
    Tara shook her head. “No, aloud will sound stupid.”
    Charity argued with Tara, which was probably a first. I guess her ego count was going through the roof right now. “But we’re doing something mortals can’t do.”
    I pointed to the team that had just finished. “They can have headsets if they want.” I shrugged. “Same thing. But maybe we should bring it to a team vote?”
    Smooth Pru. I was so humble that I didn’t act at all smug when the vote was unanimous: I was whispering to the team. Tara and I smiled at each other. Manage the team, safeguard the win.
    Or, at least, the invitation. Our routine was solid, with some nice moments. We placed in the top five, but we hadn’t quite taken the risks we needed to take first place. Or second. Or even third or fourth. I didn’t like being fifth, but the team was even unhappier.
    Charity complained as we waited for the other teams to clear out so we could pop home unobtrusively, “We haven’t got a chance to win.”
    Tara fielded the complaint with a huge sigh. “We just wanted an invite to Nationals so we can compete again. We got that.”
    Charity huffed, “Right. We get the chance to compete— against Pru’s old team, the, what, three-time champions?”
    “Four,” I corrected her. So she didn’t like that her number-two place and her probable head cheerleadershipfor next year was in jeopardy. Deal with it, weeyotch.
    Sunita asked, a little timidly, “Do you think we can beat your old team?”
    No. But I wasn’t going to say that aloud. “We can do anything if we work hard enough.” Was that diplomatic enough? I hoped so. I knew the truth was deadly when we had such a short time to get up to speed before the national competition at the end of December.
    Charity wasn’t done being a downer, it seemed. “So can your old team, then.”
    “They can,” I replied, since everyone already knew she was right. “And they will. Which means we need to do our best.”
    “I’ll get that triple, Pru, I promise,” Celestina said, holding up her hand to cover her heart.
    “Great!” And it was, too. You had to know what you had to beat if you wanted a chance to do well in competition. Pulling off a triple-triple would give us a leg up, so to speak, on the difficulty level.
    As I popped back home, to the living room where Dorklock was playing his video games, Dad was working on his next big ad campaign on the laptop, and Mom was reading, I wondered whether Chezzie and Maddie had bothered to check the results and were worried about us—or whether they thought we’d just be a good laugh.
    Dad looked up from his laptop. “Hi, princess. How did the team do?”
    “We were in the top five, so we got our invite to Nationals.”
    “Doesn’t that mean you’ll have to go up against your old team?”
    Duh. “I guess so.” No way did I want him to guess that I was eager to grind my old team’s ego into the dust—especially Maddie’s. Dad was a softie about a lot of things, but friendship was not one of them. You treat your family like gold and your friends like silver, and look out if you do something petty just because you had a fight.
    Mom intervened before he could give me a