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

lecture. “I’m sorry about that, Pru, but I suppose there isn’t anything you can do about it. You have a new team to work with now.”
    Apparently, Dad saw the logic of that. Which was great— because it was his fault, and Mom’s, that I’d had to switch teams in the first place.
    It occurred to me that if I really wanted to know what Maddie was saying about me, I could find out. All I’d need to do was pay her a little visit every now and then before Nationals wearing my
très
chic invisibility bubble—the fashion must for any good gossip spy/witch. I’d perfected it for the test I’d had to take to get out of remedial classes. Even though I hadn’t needed it for the test, I knew it would still come in handy someday.
    Besides, if Dorklock could do it, I knew I had to—no way was my little brother going to run rings around me with his magic for long.

Mr. Bindlebrot kept me after class. Sure, he’s Orlando Bloom hot, but my former crush on him is cold, so I was not feeling the love as he stood there looking at me with disappointment.
    “Pru, you missed the test on Friday while you were helping Coach Gertie with the pep rally. You need to make it up quickly if you want the grade in by the end of term.”
    “I will.” I pulled out To-Do, hoping to score a few teacher points and lighten the disappointment in his eyes. “When can we reschedule?”
    “Today. Right after school.”
    To-Do shook his Troll doll swath of hair. “I’m afraid that time is already scheduled. You have practice after school, astudy session for transfiguration directly after practice, a tutoring session on scrying after that, and—”
    Sigh. So much for points for being organized. “When
do
I have free time?”
    To-Do grumped and groaned a bit as he searched his data banks. “June sixteenth is free.”
    Of course it was. That was the first day of summer break.
    Mr. Bindlebrot frowned. “Pru, this test is very important. If you don’t do well, you will fail the term.”
    “I know.” I hadn’t really known, but no way was I going to confess that to the man who held my grade in his hand. “I’m still getting used to this whole magic curriculum idea.” I smiled. I so needed him on my side. “Math used to be one of my easy subjects, Mom always said.” It was a little sneaky using the Mom card—she and Mr. B had been classmates way back in the Dark Ages (technically, more like the Middle Ages, but still, it was so long ago, they not only didn’t have iPods, they didn’t have indoor plumbing).
    I stuck To-Do back in my pocket. “I’ll juggle my schedule around the makeup test. Just tell me when.”
    “I’ll give you some time to clear that busy schedule of yours. How about Monday? Directly after school.”
    “Great. I’ll be there. And I’ll ace the test.” Which meant scheduling in study time as well as test time. To-Do would grumble, but he’d handle it.

    Our next game after Regionals was a mortal game. We were stoked about getting an invitation to Nationals, but Tara and I were even more stoked that we were playing Angelo’s school. I’d arranged with Angelo that we’d go get burgers after the game. It was a way to keep completely off the parent radar—witch and mortal. Angelo’s mom would probably pitch a fit if she knew that he was seeing Tara. Tara’s parents— they’d pitch a fit that might level a town if they found out their daughter was seeing a mortal boy.
    First, however, we had decided that we needed to prepare killer routines for the games. There’s something about practice that makes even the most wowalicious routines seem less than fab. An audience to wow? That adds sparkle to the simplest cheer, and gives our football players the spirit to crush the opposition.
    Not that our team needs much spirit. The cheerleaders at Angelo’s school were okay, but their football team was much worse than ours. That could have gotten messy, if Angelo cared about football. There’s nothing that will ditch a