Spell Check: Book 1 (Teen Wytche Saga) by Ariella Moon

Author:Ariella Moon [Moon, Ariella]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: AMAZON ONLY
Publisher: Astraea Press
Published: 2012-01-22T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

When we got home, I wiped off my lipstick and hid all the tubes, except Nearly Nude. I figured better to offer a token sacrifice than to lose my entire stash. Then I waited for Mom to call me on it.

Baby kept running to the front door, then coming back to my room and nudging me. Wallowing in worry and depression didn’t fly in Dog World. I gave up and grabbed her leash, and we took off. We got two blocks from home when the sky darkened into an ominous gray and it started to sprinkle. I dragged Baby home.

I had just crawled onto my bed when the phone rang. I debated letting it go unanswered. But, just in case it was Jordan, I followed the noise to my desk. Miraculously, the receiver rested in its cradle for a change.

“Hello?”

“I told you to throw a glamour, not get busted.”

“Hey, Sal— Sarah.”

“Hey. What happened?”

“I broke Evan MacDonald’s foot in Gym.”

“Are you serious?”

“’Fraid so. I feel awful about it. Plus, I got a two-day suspension.”

“O’Reilly, you rock! Can you take out Tommy as well?”

I laughed. “I’ll think about it.” The beanbag chair squished as it engulfed me. “I took some photos in Yearbook today.”

“No way!”

“Your talisman helped. So thanks. I owe you.”

“Cool.”

The line went quiet. I thought maybe she was calling from a cell phone and I had lost her. Then her voice came back, sort of hesitant and nervous. “I could use a favor.”

I sat up straighter, every cell wary. “What?”

“You know the test we’re supposed to have in English tomorrow?”

My shoulders relaxed as I remembered her quiz score. It reminded me way too much of my math woes. “Want to study together?”

“For real?” She sounded relieved. “That would be great.”

“Come over. Maybe if you’re here, Mom will forget to confiscate the lipstick she caught me wearing.”

“Dude! When you get busted, everything hits the fan.”

“Pretty much.”

“I’ll call my mom, then walk over.”

“Okay. See ya.” I hung up and surveyed the remnants of my spell casting. The magic circle resembled a kiddie party thanks to the troll and tiara. I stuffed them on a shelf in my wicker hutch, then carried the poppy plate to the kitchen.

Salem arrived about fifteen minutes later, appearing windblown and hunched under the weight of her backpack. “I suck at English.”

“I suck worse at math.” It seemed to put her at ease. “We can work in my room if you don’t mind the mess.”

“Lead on, soldier.” Salem saluted, then, when I gave her a puzzled look, she pointed to Dad’s camouflage hat.

“Oh, right.” I saluted back, but when we got to my room, I did something I never do. I took off the hat.

Salem squinted at my strawberry “outgrowth,” as Mom calls it. “Major roots.”

“I know. I need to see a colorist.”

“My cousin is in cosmetology school. She needs the practice. I could ask her, if you’d like.”

“Awesome. That would be great.”

We settled onto the cleaner of my two beds so Baby wouldn’t bother us, and pulled out our English notebooks.

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