Kelly McClymer-Salem Witch 02 Competition's A Witch (13 page)

Coach shook her head. “But I’ll get them today, whether she likes it or not.”

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, Pru. Maybe we can learn something from the mortals.” Tara was being awfully conciliatory. I waited for the other shoe to drop. But, instead, she said, “Of course, we could show them how to improve their cheering, too.”

“You have some ideas for routines?” I tried not to sound skeptical, even though I was.

“A few.”

It was now or never, I knew. I had to take advantage of Tara’s good mood. I’d hesitated to give out my invitations, despite the fact that the date for my party was warp speed ahead. I just wasn’t sure that anyone would come. There’s nothing that deals social suicide to a girl quicker than throwing a party nobody comes to. But I couldn’t afford to wait any longer. It was time to face my fears.

I watched the bubble invitations float through the gym, landing in the hands of each girl and gently dissolving away to reveal a silver-edged invitation.

“This is for a birthday party?” Yvette sounded doubtful. “But it’s so soon.”

I had already thought up an excuse to make so they’d forgive the last-minute notice. “Yes, I—” But I didn’t get a chance to give it.

“You have a pool
and
a bowling alley?” Elektra was clearly impressed. Score one for Pru.

“How very mortal of you,” Tara said. Weeyotch.

I knew a sales opportunity when I saw it. “It’s just one lane, but it will be fun. My brother is a geek and he’s done some magical alterations so the game won’t be boring old mortal bowling action.”

I could feel the rising excitement, but confusion and doubt were still winning out. “I’ve never been to a sleepover before. I’ve seen them in the movies, though.”

Tara spoke with head-cheerleader dismissiveness. “It sounds an awful lot like something only mortals would do.”

“Why should mortals have all the fun of staying up all night telling juicy stories and swapping gossip while eating pizza and doing each other’s hair and nails?” It wasn’t hard to sound sincere, because I actually believed what I was saying. “Besides, I have some magic surprises in store, but I don’t want to give them away yet.” This was an out-and-out lie, and my bracelet zapped me for telling it. But I would make it happen, now that it had occurred to me that a regular sleepover just wouldn’t cut it.

“I thought you already were sixteen?” Tara said critically, as if searching for a technicality that would let her declare the party off-limits to her team.

“I am. But I had my birthday on the road, so my mom is letting me have my party now. It should be fun.”

“Sure. I guess.” She squinted at me. “You’re only inviting the squad?”

“And a few others, too.”

“You need to invite some cute guys.”

Tell me about it. But I needed an in on the cute guy front. Not that I’d admit it to her. “Like who?”

Tara tapped her fingertip on her forehead as if she were counting. “All the football and basketball first-stringers, of course. That should be good enough if we invite a few of the kewler girls to even out the numbers.”

“Sounds good. I guess I can make some more invitations.” I wondered if Mom would mind that I’d just doubled the number of invitees to the party? I decided it was one of those things I would ask for forgiveness for, rather than ask permission. After all, I needed to start making a top ten list for upcoming school dances.

“Only kewl kids, right?” Tara said, examining me closely.

“My friends.” I tried to bluff. “All of my friends are kewl.”

“You’re not inviting that geeky guy, are you? Or those girls who hang out with him?”

I hesitated, knowing I needed to stand up for my friends, but afraid that if I did, Tara would refuse to come to the party—and make sure the other cheerleaders shunned it too.

Fortunately, Coach Gertie called us to a huddle, and I didn’t have to lie. At least, not yet.

Samuel had agreed to tutor me every night so I’d be ready to act like a real witch during the party. I was terrified I’d slip up and humiliate myself by showing my mortal roots. The biggest thing was really mind over magic, so to speak. Like when you have to learn a foreign language, I kept translating my mortal way of doing things into the magic way. When I remembered.

The problem was, I didn’t always remember to translate. The Dorklock would rather go thirsty than get his water from the tap any longer. He loved being able to pop his own food, even changing what Mom served for dinner, if he chose—despite the fact that Dad wasn’t too happy about the fact that everyone didn’t have the same thing for dinner
anymore. Not to mention that Mom often had to change the foods Tobias picked (for example, putting carrots on his plate to replace the fruit-flavored jelly beans he preferred).

Me? I’m happy with what Mom pops for dinner, and it really isn’t a big deal to get a glass from the cupboard and pour my water at the sink. But that’s got to change, and fast. I considered bribing the Dorklock to zap me every time he caught me doing something the mortal way. But that was too scary a thought. Giving the Dorklock carte blanche to zap me was downright dangerous. I could end up served as pizza to my own sweet sixteen party.

Samuel had agreed to quiz me during our tutoring session about how I should handle the next day’s to-do list using magic rather than the ways I’d learned growing up in the mortal realm. I’m not sure he really understood why it mattered so much to me, but he knew it did, and that was enough for him.

Dad didn’t understand either, but there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to help me be successful and happy at school. This was not, however, like the time I couldn’t master multiplication and he made a chart and quizzed me for a whole weekend before the multiplication bee—which I won. He knew the sweet sixteen party was my way of making a place for myself at school. He’d even considered staying home for the party to act as master of ceremonies like he had when I was younger, until Mom and I had started
talking about some of the special magical party games and surprises I wanted to wow my guests. Then he decided that a weekend of golf away was a great idea, and we all breathed a sigh of relief. Dad didn’t mind Samuel coming over every night for extra tutoring, though. For one thing, Samuel was respectful of his mortal status and impressed with his job as an advertising guru. For another, Samuel never showed off his magic skills like the Dorklock was always doing.

So when Samuel arrived, I took out my list and prepared to make sure I did everything the way a witch who’d been a witch from birth would.

But instead of reading the list, Samuel handed it back to me, along with a small gold band. I stopped breathing for a second, afraid he was proposing. But then I got real. We were sixteen and even Samuel couldn’t possibly think we were ready for marriage.

“What’s this?” I asked as I frantically tried to think of ways to reject a promise ring without hurting his feelings.

“You wanted to break your old mortal habits fast, right?”

I nodded. Yeah? What did that have to do with promise rings?

“When you wear this, it will vibrate if you start doing something the mortal way. If you don’t switch to the witch way, it will vibrate harder.”

Oh. So it wasn’t a promise ring. It was a “break your
habits” ring. I should have known. I put it on immediately. “Thanks! You are truly brilliant, you know.”

“I know.” He pointed to the fireplace. “Can we have a fire? It’s a little chilly.”

“Sure.” I leaped up and grabbed the box of matches on the mantel. The ring started to vibrate. I put the matchbox down, pointed my index finger at the logs, and started the flames with magic.

Samuel clapped. “See?”

“Did you do that on purpose?” I wouldn’t have imagined he could be so sneaky.

He nodded. “You really do need to start thinking like a witch, Pru. Although you’re cute when you forget.” He grinned and blushed at the same time, pleased that I hadn’t thought he had it in him. “So. Will it be potions or transfiguration tonight, madame?”

Halfway through our session on turning toads into human beings and back into toads again, the mortal realm interrupted our work. In other words, Angelo and his mother came to call.

Now, normally Samuel is a geek-fan of all things mortal. But right away he didn’t like Angelo. Maybe it was because Angelo smiled at me and I instantly forgot to introduce Samuel to him. Or maybe it was because I forgot Samuel was in the room until he stepped up and introduced himself.

Angelo looked at Samuel, and they sized each other up right in front of my eyes. Sigh. The two guys in my
life looked at each other and frowned. Not good.

Things got worse when I made a huge slip that I blame entirely on the way my crush on Angelo made my brains leak right out of my ears. I said, in a bright, loud, cheerleader voice, “Samuel’s just a friend. He’s helping me plan my sweet sixteen party.”

“Happy birthday.” Angelo looked at me curiously. For a second I wondered why. And then I realized what I had done. I had told him I was having a party. If I didn’t invite him … crappaccino.

Angelo was much too polite to ask if he was invited, thankfully. However, the bigger problem was Mrs. Kenton. Had she heard what I said? I looked at her and couldn’t tell.

As much as I liked Angelo, I so did not like his mother. I can’t quite pinpoint why. Maybe because Mrs. Kenton was so nosy. Nice enough for a grown-up, I guess. But she was always trying to do good things in the pushiest way possible. Right now she was trying to rope Mom and me into volunteering in the community again.

“I have a marvelous opportunity for you—please don’t thank me, I had to pull a few strings, but you and Prudence are so dear that I just felt it was the right thing to do.”

Mom had the witch-in-the-headlights look, but her smile was still pasted in place. “I don’t think the Neighborhood Watch—”

“Oh, nothing so mundane, my dear. No. Not at all. It’s just the hottest volunteer work in the whole town—working Old Salem Village on Halloween Day!”

Oh, joy. I hoped Mom would be able to refuse this “favor” of Mrs. Kenton’s. Otherwise, I’d be spending time dressed like Mrs. Goode, my history teacher. Not to mention living life the way she did all those centuries ago.

Unfortunately, Mom was unable to think of any better excuse than, “I just can’t commit to anything until I get finished with my daughter’s birthday party.” Great. So if Mrs. Kenton happened to have missed my faux pas, she got a second chance with Mom’s.

“How old are you, dear?” Mrs. Kenton smiled, and I wondered if she was just being crafty or if she really hadn’t heard me tell Angelo I was having a sweet sixteen party.

“Sixteen.”

“Oh!” She put her hand to her chest. “A sweet sixteen party. How darling!”

I didn’t really believe she would be pushy enough to force me to invite Angelo then and there, although I think Mom knew what was coming. “Is it girls only?”

Ah. A way out. “I’m having a slumber party that’s girls only.” Angelo couldn’t be mad at me for not inviting him to a girls-only sleepover.

“Yes. I think you’ll agree that’s a wise practice, at their age,” Mom cut in, stopping me from adding that the pool
and bowling party before the sleepover was going to be coed. As if.

“Oh, I completely understand.” Mrs. Kenton sounded completely disappointed. “But if you need Angelo to help with decorations or blowing up balloons or anything, he’ll be more than happy to pitch in.”

“I think we’ll be fine,” Mom replied.

And we would have been, if Tobias hadn’t been lurking around, looking for ways to cause trouble. “Hey, I thought you said boys could come to the pool and bowling party before the sleepover. I already asked Tim and Xerxes and they both said yes.”

Caught out, Mom stammered, “Well, of course Tim and Xerxes can come—”

“And Samuel, too, right? He was going to teach me how to”—He stopped just in time, with a glance at Mrs. Kenton—“uh. He was going to teach me how to swim with flippers.”

Right. Samuel had promised to teach him how to grow webbing on his feet when he got in the pool, to create a natural pair of flippers. Not something either of them could do with a mortal at the party. At last this point got across to the Dorklock.

Too late, because Mrs. Kenton was just about to believe that we were dissing her precious and perfect son Angelo. “Oh, I see.” Her mouth was pinched tight, probably to prevent
herself from telling us off. “Only children from your private school. Of course.”

Mom, softhearted as always, immediately reacted to Mrs. Kenton’s hurt feelings as she never would have to polite social bullying. “Pru, I guess we can’t keep it a secret any longer. Why don’t you run up and fetch Angelo’s invitation?”

His invitation? For a minute I looked at Samuel and thought of the bubbles he and I had created, but then I realized that Mom just wanted me to pop a normal invitation out of sight of Mrs. Kenton. So I did.

Mrs. Kenton glanced at it and said, “This Saturday?”

“Yes. It is short notice, we had to put the party together quickly.” With a little gasp of hope that she tried to hide, Mom added, “If he won’t be able to make it, we understand perfectly.”