Read Online The Wish Stealers by Tracy Trivas - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tracy Trivas
Ads: Link
added together, like the alchemists turning lead into gold.”
“That’s a really cool idea, Mom. I’ll text Garrett about it,” said Griffin.
The car hovered at a red light.
When the hurlyburly’s done, when the battle’s lost and won screeched in Griffin’s head. Can I return all these wishes?
Courage is … mastery of fear, not absence of fear.
—Mark Twain
Chapter
17
T he art store on Saturday morning glowed with sunlight streaming in its windows. Neat rows of paints in silver tubes waited like dignified soldiers to be purchased. Brushes in every shape and size tickled the shelves above them. Griffin and Libby loved to come here to buy a few new supplies before heading to Grandma Penshine’s house for their art lesson. In the afternoon, when the weatherman predicted the temperature would hit eighty-five degrees, they’d meet Audree, Maggie, and Madison to swim in Maggie’s grandpa’s pool.
“My grandma says today she’s teaching us about the Venetian painters, so we should pick out our favorite bluesand yellows to paint an amazing sky,” said Griffin as they looked through the rack of paint colors.
“Cobalt blue, azure mist, lapis lazuli, Caspian Sea blue, aquamarine, cerulean swirl,” read Libby as she carefully examined each tube. “How many blues can there be in the world?”
Just then a breeze blew through the store, and five girls, babbling loudly, some on their cell phones, others laughing, burst through the art store’s doors.
“Grab every color. My father said he’d pay for everything. We want my birthday party banner to be huge! We’ll drape it across my house so everyone will know which house to come to!” said a familiar voice.
Griffin turned as Samantha and her followers surged around the paint rack, trying to bump her and Libby out of the way.
“Excuse you,” said Griffin, refusing to be pushed.
“What are you two doing here?” Samantha snickered.
“We’re buying paints for our art lesson,” said Libby.
“Do you guys think you’re going to be famous artists one day? Now, that’s hilarious!”
“They are so not invited to Samantha’s party,” Martha whispered loudly as she ripped paint tubes from the metal shelves and put them into a basket.
“Totally,” said Sasha. “They’re probably here because they heard we were coming to the art store and they’re hoping to be invited. Desperate!”
“We only have three hours before my party. Come on. We want my sign to be gigantic!” Like a writhing octopus with groping arms on all sides of the paint display, the girls grabbed at the lapis, cobalt, and aquamarine. Soon the Caspian Sea blue, cerulean swirl, and azure mist were all snatched away too.
“Hey, you guys can’t take them all!” said Griffin, reaching to protect some paints.
A windmill of arms slapped the space in front of her. Griffin’s eyes narrowed in disgust. The entire rack of paint was stripped, except for one fallen soldier of triste bleu , and that was only because no one in Samantha’s clique could read French.
“Hurry, girls! My older sister is going to take us to drop off some extra chocolate chip cookie invitations at the boys’ houses. Boys always need to be reminded.”
Then, looking right at Griffin, Samantha said, “First stop, Garrett Forester’s house.”
A tube of paint fell onto the floor. As Samantha’s followers stampeded to the checkout, they trampled on the abandoned tube, squirting paint all over Griffin’s sneakers that had taken her all summer to design.
“I wish your party is a total bomb!” blurted Griffin aloud. But Samantha had already sashayed to the cash register. Oh, my gosh! What have I just wished! thought Griffin, eyes bulging. Then she looked down at her favorite sneakers, totally ruined. “Come on, Libbs. Let’s go. My grandma has some awesome paints we can use.”
Griffin could hardly contain her anger as they walked the seven blocks to her grandma’s house. She clenched her teeth the
“That’s a really cool idea, Mom. I’ll text Garrett about it,” said Griffin.
The car hovered at a red light.
When the hurlyburly’s done, when the battle’s lost and won screeched in Griffin’s head. Can I return all these wishes?
Courage is … mastery of fear, not absence of fear.
—Mark Twain
Chapter
17
T he art store on Saturday morning glowed with sunlight streaming in its windows. Neat rows of paints in silver tubes waited like dignified soldiers to be purchased. Brushes in every shape and size tickled the shelves above them. Griffin and Libby loved to come here to buy a few new supplies before heading to Grandma Penshine’s house for their art lesson. In the afternoon, when the weatherman predicted the temperature would hit eighty-five degrees, they’d meet Audree, Maggie, and Madison to swim in Maggie’s grandpa’s pool.
“My grandma says today she’s teaching us about the Venetian painters, so we should pick out our favorite bluesand yellows to paint an amazing sky,” said Griffin as they looked through the rack of paint colors.
“Cobalt blue, azure mist, lapis lazuli, Caspian Sea blue, aquamarine, cerulean swirl,” read Libby as she carefully examined each tube. “How many blues can there be in the world?”
Just then a breeze blew through the store, and five girls, babbling loudly, some on their cell phones, others laughing, burst through the art store’s doors.
“Grab every color. My father said he’d pay for everything. We want my birthday party banner to be huge! We’ll drape it across my house so everyone will know which house to come to!” said a familiar voice.
Griffin turned as Samantha and her followers surged around the paint rack, trying to bump her and Libby out of the way.
“Excuse you,” said Griffin, refusing to be pushed.
“What are you two doing here?” Samantha snickered.
“We’re buying paints for our art lesson,” said Libby.
“Do you guys think you’re going to be famous artists one day? Now, that’s hilarious!”
“They are so not invited to Samantha’s party,” Martha whispered loudly as she ripped paint tubes from the metal shelves and put them into a basket.
“Totally,” said Sasha. “They’re probably here because they heard we were coming to the art store and they’re hoping to be invited. Desperate!”
“We only have three hours before my party. Come on. We want my sign to be gigantic!” Like a writhing octopus with groping arms on all sides of the paint display, the girls grabbed at the lapis, cobalt, and aquamarine. Soon the Caspian Sea blue, cerulean swirl, and azure mist were all snatched away too.
“Hey, you guys can’t take them all!” said Griffin, reaching to protect some paints.
A windmill of arms slapped the space in front of her. Griffin’s eyes narrowed in disgust. The entire rack of paint was stripped, except for one fallen soldier of triste bleu , and that was only because no one in Samantha’s clique could read French.
“Hurry, girls! My older sister is going to take us to drop off some extra chocolate chip cookie invitations at the boys’ houses. Boys always need to be reminded.”
Then, looking right at Griffin, Samantha said, “First stop, Garrett Forester’s house.”
A tube of paint fell onto the floor. As Samantha’s followers stampeded to the checkout, they trampled on the abandoned tube, squirting paint all over Griffin’s sneakers that had taken her all summer to design.
“I wish your party is a total bomb!” blurted Griffin aloud. But Samantha had already sashayed to the cash register. Oh, my gosh! What have I just wished! thought Griffin, eyes bulging. Then she looked down at her favorite sneakers, totally ruined. “Come on, Libbs. Let’s go. My grandma has some awesome paints we can use.”
Griffin could hardly contain her anger as they walked the seven blocks to her grandma’s house. She clenched her teeth the
Similar Books
