Spells & Sleeping Bags #3 Read Free Page A

orders the driver. The driver turns off the highway and pulls into a gas station. My cheeks are burning up, but it's not because of the heat. This is excruciatingly embarrassing. I can't believe Miri did that.
    We mope our way into the gas station's scummy, egg-scented bathroom. Once we lock the door, Miri takes off her shirt and carries it over to the sink.
    “Is it coming out?” I ask, stripping off my own shirt and wiping it under the faucet. Meanwhile, I study my reflection in the mirror. “Do you think my boobs are growing?”
    She looks up from her rinsing. “Your left boob looks bigger.”
    “Bigger than what?”
    She peers closely. “Than your right one.”
    I adjust my shoulders and then take another look. Omigod, she's right. My boobs are finally growing! Yay! The left boob is definitely bigger than it was the last time I measured. (Not that I measure often. Only every day or two.) I've been wishing for bigger boobs for forever. I mean, is it fair that I'm an A-cup and my little sister is a B? I think not. Wahoo! But how did I not notice this when I was in the shower? Wait a sec. “Why isn't the right one growing too?”
    Miri shrugs. “That's what I was wondering.”
    Oh God. Oh, no. Panic washes over me like acid rain. Not that I know exactly what acid rain is, but I know it's bad. “How can one boob grow faster than the other? They're supposed to grow at the same rate! One arm doesn't grow longer than the other! One leg doesn't grow longer than the other! One foot doesn't—”
    “Actually, lots of people have different-sized feet.” Miri wiggles her own sneaker-clad foot as if to prove her point.
    “No, no, no. Isn't there a spell we can use to even them out?”
    “You know what Mom said about using boob spells before you've finished puberty. You could really mess up your body. Your hormones are already whacked out enough. I'm sure the other one will grow eventually.”
    “But what if it doesn't?”
    “Then you'll have two different-sized boobs.”
    I think I might cry. “It's not fair!”
    “It's not that much bigger than the other one.”
    “Yes, it is.” My life is officially over. I mean, come on! Camp is all about bathing suits. People are going to see my deformity.
    “Yeah, it's huge. So big it's practically another person. Let's call her Melinda.”
    How can she joke during a crisis like this? Hmm. “Why Melinda?”
    “I don't know. It rhymes with Glinda?”
    “Too confusing, I'll get them mixed up. Let's call her Bobby.”
    “Bobby is a boy's name.”
    “Get with it, Mir. Boys' names are very trendy for girls these days.”
    “Great. I'll change my name to Murray.” She continues scraping at her shirt and then sighs. “It's not coming out. I should try a clean spell from A 2 . ”
    Miri is referring to The Authorized and Absolute Reference Handbook to Astonishing Spells, Astounding Potions, and History of Witchcraft Since the Beginning of Time, which we renamed Authorized and Absolute (hence the A 2 ). I do not yet possess my own copy.
    “Really? Let me try it.” Now's my chance to practice a real spell, a published spell, and not some limerick I made up on the spur of the moment.
    “Now? People are waiting for us, and your magic hasn't been that dependable. . . .”
    What is she talking about? “My magic is just fine, thank you very much.”
    She raises an eyebrow. “So you were purposely levitating your knapsack out there?”
    “Oh, shut up. Come on, just tell me the spell.”
    “You're so difficult,” she grumbles. “Just touch the stain with a drop of soap. Then pour some salt into your left hand. Turn the hot water on with your other hand and let it wash over the salt while you repeat three times ‘Mark upon these robes be gone.’ ”
    “Miri, I don't have any salt on me.”
    She reaches into her knapsack and pulls out one of those skinny-minny restaurant salt packets. “A witch always carries around salt. It's, like, the miracle ingredient.”
    Yay! Problem