The Runaway Spell by Lexi Connor

don’t mind my saying so, as a zebra you were pretty lousy on the field. More interested in grazing than in scoring.”
    George seemed dazed. He twisted himselfaround and swatted at his lower back, still searching for his zebra tail.
    “Believe me, George, you won that game on talent and skill — and guts. You believed you were La Zebra, so you played like him. You can do that every week. And you don’t need a tail to do it.”
    It took George a minute of scratching where his zebra ears had once been to really believe it was all true. Then he stood a bit taller. “Thanks, B. For trying to help, and for believing in me. How did you figure out a way to reverse the spell?”
    “Magic,” B said with a smile. “That’s my secret.”
    B glanced over to where Mr. Bishop stood, talking with Coach Lyons. He turned slightly, met B’s gaze, and winked.
    Hmmm …
    “Well, I knew you’d figure it out,” George said. “I was never worried. Not really. I’ll bet you’re the best young witch in that whole M.R. whatever-it-is world you’re always talking about.”
    “Ssshhh!” B said. “Ready to go?” she asked, heading out to the street behind the school. George fell into step beside her.
    “No more transformations,” said B. “And no more spells on humans!”
    “Nee-hee-hee!”
George whinnied.
    B halted in her tracks.
    George laughed. “Just kidding!”
    B shook her head, then laughed with him. “Let’s go home and get something to eat.”
    “I’ll say,” George said. “I’ve gone a whole week without chocolate!”

Preview
    B’s charmed adventures continue in

    Read on for a sneak peek!
     
    B’s paintbrush hovered over the rough paper tacked to her easel. With the faintest of strokes, she trailed the tip of the bristles in a graceful arc.
    Another whisker for Nightshade, her cat. Only about twenty more to go.
    Beatrix, or “B” for short, glanced at the photo of her black tomcat pinned to the corner of the easel. She was so absorbed in her work that a voice at her shoulder made her jump.
    “Quit your humming, Bumblebee,” Jason Jameson said. “You sound like a beehive, and you’re giving the rest of us a headache.”
    B glowered at Jason, who’d been a raging pest ever since preschool. Now that sixth grade was here, he was worse. He and his insect insults, reserved especially for B because of her nickname, drove her buggy.
    “I thought everyone liked the Black Cats,” B said, pretending to sound innocent.
    “Was that ‘Yowl’ you were humming?” Jamal Burns asked.
    “I bet that’ll be the first song they play atSaturday’s show,” Kim Silsby said. “I’m so jealous you’ve got tickets, B!”
    B grinned. “Only because George won the spelling bee, and shared one of his tickets with me,” she said. “I can barely wait until Saturday night.”
    “You’re not the only one with tickets, Cockroach,” Jason scoffed. “My parents bought me a seat in the second row. Betcha don’t know how much that cost.”
    “Who cares what it cost? Quit showing off, Jason,” Kim said.
    B dipped her brush once more and carefully traced another whisker, and then another, peering at the photograph between strokes to get each one perfect.
    She was on her second-to-last one when Miss Willow’s voice made her jump, dragging her brush across Nightshade’s face and smearing one of his amber-colored eyes.
    “Everyone,” her art teacher said in an extra-cheery voice, “I have an announcement to make.”
    B groaned silently. Her painting was ruined! Here was where a little spot of magic would comein handy. Checking quickly to see that no one was looking at her easel, B whispered, “E-R-A-S-E.” The errant black stroke disappeared, as B had known it would—but so did all the whiskers she’d added that morning! B sighed. Typical of B’s special brand of magic. When she spelled words, things happened, but not always the things she had in mind!
    “Now, class,” Miss Willow said, “I want you all to