Kelly McClymer-Salem Witch 01 The Salem Witch Tryouts (24 page)

“True.” I was surprised at how quickly he replied. Even I wasn’t as certain as Samuel sounded.

“How do you know?” I wondered for a brief, absurd moment if they’d ever dated.

But, no. “I listen.”

Of course he does. If he weren’t my friend, I’d be very, very nervous of Samuel’s listening skills.

“You’ll do it? For me? I’ll give you my cell phone.” After all, I didn’t need it now that I wasn’t talking to Maddie. But I didn’t tell him that.

He looked thoughtful for a minute. “Okay. But I get to come with.” He took the cell phone and, as good as his word, I made the first step toward binding Tara to me in friendship.

❊

Okay, maybe not a friendship, exactly. More like an alliance. One where, when I told her Samuel was coming along, she had to bring someone extra too. So on Monday morning, there were four of us instead of three in the bright yellow Jetta: Samuel, Tara, and her #2 on the squad, Charity. Oh, and little old me, who was praying that none of us got caught by the magic police, bumped into another car by accident, or ran out of gas before we got safely back from our out-of-school experience.

“I want to see Rodeo Drive.” Charity was a good cheerleader, but she didn’t have a clue about the mortal world. I think it was her absolute lack of fear that she would mess up that made her a great flyer—and a lousy person to take with me on the day I skipped school.

“That’s in California,” I explained patiently.

“Okay.” She made as if to zap us there, and I blocked the spell (those sessions with Cousin Seamus had really paid off). “Hey. I said I’d take you for a drive around the neighborhood, not the world. You promised no magic.” Like I said, she was totally clueless. But Tara didn’t go anywhere without Charity by her side. They were like night and day. Power Girl, full of dark, mean thoughts, and Clueless Girl, light and fluffy and fearlessly cheerful.

Samuel muttered under his breath. I knew he thought I was going to owe him big time.

Charity persisted. “Just a little—to get us to Rodeo Drive.”

“No. I’m going to drive us. We can go to the mall, if you want. The Salem Mall.”

“The mall is good. If we get caught …” Tara was nervous. Wow. Hadn’t she ever skipped school before? Well, of course not. Only Samuel had managed to combat all the binding spells our parents had put on us, and he’d needed help from Tara the Magic Talent and Charity the Water Talent to do it.

Charity pouted, which I guess must have worked for her parents, but it was three against one and even though my blocking skills were poor, Samuel was a whiz.

“Can’t you go any faster?” Tara leaned forward and glanced around (she was riding shotgun, of course). I couldn’t tell whether she was loosening up—or trying to get her big adventure over with just a tiny bit faster.

I shook my head. “I could if I had the Mercedes. But in this, the best I can do is seventy-five.” Not that my dad wouldn’t have a cow if he ever found out.

Samuel leaned forward. “I could juice up the engine—” The next thing he’d be offering to do was drive. As if.

“No, thank you. My mother has put so many spells on this car, it isn’t funny.” Sometimes your parents do something that gives you an insight into what they’re afraid of. Frankly, after my mom listed the anti-carjacking spell, the anti-hydroplaning spell, and the little spell to keep tree
limbs from falling on my car, I was afraid to ask what else she’d done. Sometimes, knowing how much she tries to protect me, I wonder why she moved us to Salem.

But it doesn’t really matter. I’m here now. I’ve got Samuel in my corner and Tara starting to see that I could be a useful ally.

Coach nearly dropped her whistle when Tara and I came in together to ask if we could work on getting the team synchronized in preparation for the regional and national competitions.

“I’m so glad you understand how important this can be for us.” She was talking to Tara, but her smile was for me. Coach Gertie was no dummy. I thought of all the classes of girls she’d coached at the school, and I realized she probably knew more about what was going on in our heads than we did. Scary.

“We want to do it for you, Coach,” Tara said, in good cheerleader-suck-up form.

I thought, for one crazy moment, that Coach Gertie was going to hug us. Fortunately, she recovered her whistle and gave three shrill blows of joy instead.

“Girls! Listen up. We’re going to get in shape for Regionals starting today.”

The rest of the team was not so happy. Especially when I explained how precise we’d have to be to do well. But you
know what they say about telling, showing, and doing: Doing always wins.

“I just want everyone to see the difference. If I could have two volunteers?” Naturally, everyone looked at Tara, not trusting the sudden favor she seemed to be bestowing on the girl she’d tried to sabotage not that long ago. No one volunteered.

“Choose two, Prudence.” Great. Coach had put me in a lose-lose position.

But I’d beaten worse odds before. “Brunhilda and Celestina, come on down.” I’d heard them talking about
The Price Is Right
at lunch, so I hoped they’d laugh. They did. But they didn’t move. Not so good.

Coach prodded them with her whistle and the promise of benching if they didn’t participate.

“I don’t see why we should have to be held back to mortal restrictions.” Brunhilda had manifested an Air Talent, so she was book smart, as mortals say. But not people smart—or, in this case, witch smart. As cheerleaders go, she was of average abilities. But as witches go, she could fly circles around the eagles. That’s why I needed her. That and the fact that she was not in Tara’s tight circle. Rumor had it that she’d been kicked out when she dared admit she had a crush on a boy Tara considered hers. At least last year, anyway.

As for Celestina, she was tiny and nearly invisible until
she put on her uniform. But she had rhythm. And that was critical to this demonstration.

I’d listened to a little locker room talk. Enough to know what would push them. They had the usual love-hate relationship with the head cheerleader. So I knew what they were thinking, even if they were keeping their game smiles in place:
Tara would hate for us to do well at competition. Then we’d all have to shine instead of just her
. Which was true, despite the fact that Tara had agreed to work with me on synch. I’m no dummy when it comes to girl-olotics. She’d agreed because I have a car and she doesn’t—and because she hoped that I’d fail miserably with my mortal techniques so that she was once more the unchallenged queen of the squad.

Which meant it was my job to make the team look great in the air, and on the ground, without taking any of the shine from Tara’s crown. Call me crazy, but I was up for the challenge. “We’re going to win Nationals on our first try—if we do what we need to do.” I looked at the girls, who were watching me carefully. They liked what I was saying, but that didn’t mean they believed it. Yet. I looked over at Tara. If she wanted us to shine, it was her turn.

I could see she knew it. She put all her pizzazz into leading the cheer. “Let me hear you say it. Go Witches! Win Nationals!”

They weren’t quite as enthusiastic as I needed them
to be when they cheered in unison, “Go Witches! Win Nationals!” But that would change. Competition was like that. When it’s them against us, us forgets who flirted with whose boyfriend or hogged the mirror right before a game.

I finished with the cherry on top. I pulled out some Scharffen Berger chocolate I’d been saving since our last trip to San Francisco. They fell on it like a pack of starving wolves. Back home, they’d have run into the rest room to barf it up. In witchworld, they just patted their stomachs and lined up to follow my lead.

It took three bruised shins (two mine) and one ice pack to the head (not mine), but we did it. We showed the girls that an air routine could be cooler, and safer, when everyone followed the timing of the music and stayed synchronized with one another. We hadn’t done much, just a few air buckets and some flying V’s. But I could see the girls got it.

Tara got it too. To ward off her evil eye, I didn’t need magic, just a little quick crown polishing. When Coach Gertie started praising me, I thanked Tara for being an insightful and forward-thinking head cheerleader, to see how this could take the squad beyond school games. By the end of my little speech, even Coach Gertie had begun to think it was all Tara’s idea to use my expertise to take the team to Nationals.

I crown-polished but good, and I’m not ashamed of it in the least. I wanted shared custody of the credit—and the
blame—with Tara. She was head cheerleader, after all. And I’d rather head off any schemes she was working on to get me off the team for good. After a lifetime of being on Team Us in Beverly Hills, I wanted to be part of Team Us at Agatha’s, even if it meant doing it Salem-style.

But it wasn’t until the end of practice that day that I finally got my reward.

When Coach Gertie blew her whistle twice to end practice, she gathered us all in and exchanged a smile with Tara. “Girls, congratulate Prudence. She is no longer on probation. She is a full member of our team.”

The girls waited until Tara clapped me on the back so hard, I thought I’d never breathe again. Then they surrounded me with girlie squeals and jumping hugs.

So, to recap the short, not-so-sweet life of Prudence Stewart: Yep, it’s official. Life is not fair. Picture glowing letters about ten inches high—in red, black, and orange, my new school colors. I’m one month into my new and unimproved life as a witch in Salem. My best friend since preschool didn’t even wait until my seat on the bus had cooled before she made a move on the guy she knew I liked. The cutest, baddest boy in school left me in the middle of the cafeteria to face the music for our one short kiss. I still have to deal with Skin and Bones and remedial magic classes. Not to mention boys, or the million-zillion daily things that can go wrong
for any sixteen-year-old witch who still has to manifest her Talent, study magic until her nose turns purple, and find a boy to take her to school dances.

But so what? I can deal. After all, I have Samuel, the remedial student’s secret weapon for getting into regular classwork faster than the speed of light. I have the car Grandmama gave me. And I have the inside scoop on outside cheering competitions. Most important, I made it. I’m on the team, and I’m off probation. I have a squad to get my back when the mismixed potion hits the fan.

One thing I know for sure is that no matter how unfair life is, everything works out better when you have a great cheering squad to make sure you keep those moves tight, sharp, and in perfect form. Not to mention catch you when you fall, even if it’s just a half second before you land on your face.

Don’t miss out on the magic
in Pru’s next adventure:
Competition’s a Witch

Is it really so awful that I sometimes look to the mortals in my life for a little break from the hot and heavy magic? Sometimes it’s good to spend some time with people who aren’t comparing their summoning or potion skills to yours.

Take yesterday, for example, and my introduction to the cutest boy in Salem, witch or mortal. He’d come in tow behind his mother, who had made him carry the big welcome-to-the-neighborhood casserole she’d cooked up for us. At first I didn’t even notice he was more than cute, because his mother was one of those annoyingly bigger-than-life people who suck all the oxygen out of a room the second they start to speak.

Which she did, as soon as my mother opened the door. “Welcome to the neighborhood. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to get over and give you a proper welcome, but my husband and I took a little vacation to France to celebrate our anniversary and we’re just now back.”

Mom just stood there, looking like she wished she hadn’t opened the door wide enough that the neighbor had been able
to walk right into the living room and start assessing our stuff from floor to ceiling. “Thank you. But you didn’t have to—”

“Nonsense. No one new in this neighborhood will ever say that Myrna Kenton shirked her duty to roll out the welcome mat.” Even if she had to roll it out right over the wishes of her newest neighbors.

I was only mildly curious about the mortal boy standing in my living room. Until Mrs. Kenton waved her arm like a circus ringmaster and said grandly, “I want to introduce my son, Angelo. He’s known around the neighborhood as the one to go to when you want your yard work done well.”

“That’s great.” Mom smiled warmly at him. She approves of people who work hard, even if they’re cute teenage boys who may distract her daughter, who has just been told to leave the mortal stuff behind her. “This is my daughter, Prudence.”

Angelo looked at me and smiled. “Hello, Prudence. That’s a cool name.”

And the world stopped. I mean it. Despite the fact that no one in his right mind would think Prudence was a cool name, Angelo’s attention had turned on me like a hot spotlight on a stand-up comedian. Tag, I’m it. And it feels good.

Angelo was tall. Over six feet for sure, although I’m not great about judging height. He shaved. I could see the faint blue-black stubble on his jaw. I guessed he was probably a junior or senior at least. Lots of words came to mind the first time I saw Angelo. Forget “cute.” That word was so not up to the
ask of describing him. Try “hot.” “Scorching.” “Sizzling.” I wanted to see if the rest of him lived up to the first impression.

And yes, I was playing with fire. So sue me.

I aimed my best cheerworthy smile at Angelo, even though I knew mortals were pretty much not a good idea at the moment. “How long have you lived in Salem?”

He focused his blue eyes on me. “Oh, my mom’s side of the family came over on the
Mayflower
. So I guess that means I’ve been here forever.”

Suddenly I didn’t care about the new rules. That boy could smile. It was like a beacon and all I wanted to do was spend a little quality time with a mortal very appropriately named Angelo.

I’ve had crushes before. I knew crushes come on hard and strong, like the rush of a cheering crowd when the football quarterback runs twenty yards for an unexpected touchdown. But when I looked at Angelo,
wow!
I’d never ever felt a crush come on like that. For a second I forgot to breathe. And I definitely forgot all about the witch/mortal thing that everyone kept warning me about.