The Land of Stories: The Wishing Spell Read Free Page B

that would wrinkle whenever he smiled, and he smiled quite a bit, especially when he was teasing the twins.
    At night the twins’ mother would help their grandmother cook dinner and, after they had eaten, as soon as the dishes were done, the family would sit around the fireplace. Their grandmother would open her big storybook, and she and their father would take turns reading the twins fairy tales until they fell asleep. Sometimes the Bailey family would be up until sunrise.
    They told the stories with such detail and passion that it didn’t matter how many times the twins heard the same story. They were the best memories any child could ask for.
    Unfortunately, the twins hadn’t been back to their grandmother’s cottage in a very long time….

    “MR. BAILEY!” Mrs. Peters shouted. Conner had dozed off again.
    “Sorry, Mrs. Peters!” he bellowed back, sitting straight up in his seat like a soldier on guard. If looks could kill, Conner would have been dead from the scowl she was sending him.
    “What did we think of the
real
Little Red Riding Hood?” the teacher asked her class.
    A girl with frizzy hair and thick braces raised her hand.
    “Mrs. Peters?” the frizzy-haired girl asked. “I’m confused.”
    “And
why
is that?” Mrs. Peters said, as if asking, “What on earth could you possibly be confused about, idiot?”
    “Because, it says the Big Bad Wolf is killed by the Hunter,” the frizzy-haired girl explained. “I always thought the wolf was just upset because the other wolves in his pack made fun of his snout, and he and Little Red Riding Hood became friends in the end. At least, that’s what happened in the cartoon I used to watch when I was little.”
    Mrs. Peters rolled her eyes so far into the back of her head, she could have seen what was behind her.
    “That,” she said with a clenched jaw, “is exactly why we’re having this lesson.”
    The frizzy-haired girl became wide-eyed and sad. How could something so dear to her have been so wrong?
    “For homework,” Mrs. Peters said, and the room unanimously slumped in their seats, “you are to pick your favorite fairy tale and write a paper, due tomorrow, on the real lesson the tale is trying to teach us.”
    Mrs. Peters went to her desk, and the students began working on their assignment with the little class time remaining.
    “Mr. Bailey?” Mrs. Peters summoned Conner to her desk. “A word.”
    Conner was in deep trouble, and he knew it. He cautiously stood up and walked to Mrs. Peters’s desk. The other students gave him sorrowful looks as he walked by, as if he were walking to his executioner.
    “Yes, Mrs. Peters?” Conner asked.
    “Conner, I’m trying to be very sensitive about your
family situation
,” Mrs. Peters said, glaring at him over the frames of her glasses.
    Family situation
. Two words Conner had heard too many times in the last year.
    “However,” Mrs. Peters continued, “there is certain behavior I just will not tolerate in my classroom. You’re constantly falling asleep in class, you don’t pay attention, not to mention you quiz and test very poorly. Your sister seems to be functioning just fine. Perhaps you could follow her example?”
    It was a comparison that felt like a kick in the stomach every time someone made it. Indeed, Conner was not his sister by any means, and he was always punished because of it.
    “If this continues, I will be forced to have a meeting with your mother, do you understand?” Mrs. Peters warned him.
    “Yes, sir—
I mean ma’am! I meant ma’am!
Sorry.” It just hadn’t been his best day.
    “Okay, then. You may have a seat.”
    Conner slowly walked back to his seat, his head hangingslightly lower than it had all day. More than anything, he hated feeling like a failure.
    Alex had watched the entire conversation between her brother and their teacher. As much as her brother embarrassed her, she did feel for him as only a sister could.
    Alex flipped through her literature book,