Read Online Spells & Sleeping Bags #3 by Sarah Mlynowski - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sarah Mlynowski
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pj's?
The flagpole is beyond the mess hall, on Lower Field. Since this is my first time on Lower Field, I can't help feeling awed as I make my way down the road with the rest of my bunk. This camp is humongous! We pass a small park and then the infirmary, a place I hope never to visit. I mean, can you imagine getting sick at camp? Whenever I get sick, my face gets all puffy and my breath reeks like week-old uncooked chicken.
After the infirmary, the road opens up into Lower Field, which is basically a flagpole, a baseball diamond with bleachers, and a basketball court, also with bleachers. Surrounding the field is a circle of green cabins that look like the tiny green houses on a Monopoly board. Kids are now streaming out of these bunks to line up at the flagpole. “Let's go, let's go!” counselors are shouting. We all line up by bunk, and I scan the circle for Raf.
It's not until I spot him (in his flannel pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt!) talking to one of the other guys that I realize I didn't brush my teeth.
Omigod.
How could I have forgotten that? I have never left my apartment without brushing my teeth. This is not good. Not good at all. I have horrendous morning breath. It's worse than my sick breath. Honestly, when I first wake up, my mouth should be declared a nuclear wasteland.
I will not utter a single word until I return to my bunk.
Anthony begins tugging on a rope, pulling up the flag. “Can the Koala unit please lead us in the national anthem?”
The counselors of the youngest unit cue their campers to begin singing. “One. Two. Three! Oh, say can you see . . . ”
Obviously, I cannot sing. Instead, I cower behind the other girls, keeping my lips zipped throughout the entire “Star-Spangled Banner,” realizing that almost the entire camp (including Miri) is wearing pajamas, or at least pajama bottoms.
As the end of the song approaches, the campers start getting fidgety and moving toward the mess hall, even though their counselors are attempting to hold them back.
“Walk, don't run!” Anthony hollers as the younger kids ignore him and take off toward the mess hall.
On the walk to breakfast, I do my best to mime instead of talk. “How did you sleep?” Shrug. (I don't know the hand signal for lumpy mattress.) “Did you lose weight? Your clothes seem kind of big on you.” Nod, nod. (Why not?) “How do you like camp so far?” Big smile. (Big closed-lipped smile.)
I hide when I spot Raf. I cannot let him see me this morning. With my porcupine hair and killer breath, forget it. I follow Alison up the stairs and then have a brainstorm. Hello? Why do I keep forgetting I'm a witch? I can just zap up something that will help. Once inside the mess hall, I sit down at the end of our table, shut my eyes, and wish.
My morning breath is quite obscene.
Please help me make it clean!
My body turns cold, so it must be working. I open my eyes, cover my mouth with my hand, exhale, then breathe in with my nose. Ew. Guess not.
And then I notice the basket of cutlery in the center of our table. Or what used to be a basket of cutlery. It is now a basket of multicolored toothbrushes.
Whoops.
I have to fix that before anyone notices. How do I fix that so no one notices?
Since my bunkmates are still shuffling into their seats, no one has spotted my most recent magic snafu just yet. I nonchalantly yank the basket toward me and dump it onto the floor. I hold my breath (both because I'm praying no one saw and because I'm afraid of scaring them all with its smell).
“Deb, they forgot to bring us cutlery,” Carly complains.
“I'll get some when I get the food,” Deb says.
Phewf. Problem solved. And luckily, no one seems to have noticed the random toothbrushes on the floor. I exhale with relief.
Ew to the power of two. Not totally solved.
I miraculously manage to avoid talking all through breakfast and all the way back to the bunk for cleanup. The first thing I'm cleaning is my mouth. I head
The flagpole is beyond the mess hall, on Lower Field. Since this is my first time on Lower Field, I can't help feeling awed as I make my way down the road with the rest of my bunk. This camp is humongous! We pass a small park and then the infirmary, a place I hope never to visit. I mean, can you imagine getting sick at camp? Whenever I get sick, my face gets all puffy and my breath reeks like week-old uncooked chicken.
After the infirmary, the road opens up into Lower Field, which is basically a flagpole, a baseball diamond with bleachers, and a basketball court, also with bleachers. Surrounding the field is a circle of green cabins that look like the tiny green houses on a Monopoly board. Kids are now streaming out of these bunks to line up at the flagpole. “Let's go, let's go!” counselors are shouting. We all line up by bunk, and I scan the circle for Raf.
It's not until I spot him (in his flannel pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt!) talking to one of the other guys that I realize I didn't brush my teeth.
Omigod.
How could I have forgotten that? I have never left my apartment without brushing my teeth. This is not good. Not good at all. I have horrendous morning breath. It's worse than my sick breath. Honestly, when I first wake up, my mouth should be declared a nuclear wasteland.
I will not utter a single word until I return to my bunk.
Anthony begins tugging on a rope, pulling up the flag. “Can the Koala unit please lead us in the national anthem?”
The counselors of the youngest unit cue their campers to begin singing. “One. Two. Three! Oh, say can you see . . . ”
Obviously, I cannot sing. Instead, I cower behind the other girls, keeping my lips zipped throughout the entire “Star-Spangled Banner,” realizing that almost the entire camp (including Miri) is wearing pajamas, or at least pajama bottoms.
As the end of the song approaches, the campers start getting fidgety and moving toward the mess hall, even though their counselors are attempting to hold them back.
“Walk, don't run!” Anthony hollers as the younger kids ignore him and take off toward the mess hall.
On the walk to breakfast, I do my best to mime instead of talk. “How did you sleep?” Shrug. (I don't know the hand signal for lumpy mattress.) “Did you lose weight? Your clothes seem kind of big on you.” Nod, nod. (Why not?) “How do you like camp so far?” Big smile. (Big closed-lipped smile.)
I hide when I spot Raf. I cannot let him see me this morning. With my porcupine hair and killer breath, forget it. I follow Alison up the stairs and then have a brainstorm. Hello? Why do I keep forgetting I'm a witch? I can just zap up something that will help. Once inside the mess hall, I sit down at the end of our table, shut my eyes, and wish.
My morning breath is quite obscene.
Please help me make it clean!
My body turns cold, so it must be working. I open my eyes, cover my mouth with my hand, exhale, then breathe in with my nose. Ew. Guess not.
And then I notice the basket of cutlery in the center of our table. Or what used to be a basket of cutlery. It is now a basket of multicolored toothbrushes.
Whoops.
I have to fix that before anyone notices. How do I fix that so no one notices?
Since my bunkmates are still shuffling into their seats, no one has spotted my most recent magic snafu just yet. I nonchalantly yank the basket toward me and dump it onto the floor. I hold my breath (both because I'm praying no one saw and because I'm afraid of scaring them all with its smell).
“Deb, they forgot to bring us cutlery,” Carly complains.
“I'll get some when I get the food,” Deb says.
Phewf. Problem solved. And luckily, no one seems to have noticed the random toothbrushes on the floor. I exhale with relief.
Ew to the power of two. Not totally solved.
I miraculously manage to avoid talking all through breakfast and all the way back to the bunk for cleanup. The first thing I'm cleaning is my mouth. I head
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