COME SPELLING BEE season, the tiny town of Preston erupts in excitement: the bee is televised, and the hottest ticket in town. This year, an assortment of sixth-grade miscreants is going for the top prize: Jennifer, an overscheduled free spirit whose parents are obsessed with her college applications; Mutual, a previously home-schooled outsider who's enrolled in public school for the first time in order to participate in the bee; Harlan, the class clown who has spectacular plans for making the most of his time in the spotlight; and Chrissie, the constant observer, who suspects something is off at the bee and will stop at nothing to get to the truth. Principal Floren is acting shady to everyone—but, as he insists, “I am not a crook.”
From the Hardcover edition.
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|Title of eBook: I Put a Spell on You|
|Release Date: 09-09-2008|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Random House Children's Books|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||I Put a Spell on You|
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I Put a Spell on You
myxomatosis-noun. A disease only rabbits get. Even though she studied rabbits for a living, Samantha was not exactly sure how to spell "myxomatosis," and didn't particularly care.
You might think this is weird, Chrissie, but I love it when snow gets into my shoes and my ankles get so cold that they actually hurt. Everyone knows that there's no feeling in the world better than taking off cold, snowy socks and putting on something warm, right? Well, you can't get that feeling if you don't get snow in your shoes in the first place. So when I walk home from school, I step in every snowdrift I see. Sometimes I just shove the snow right into my socks when I get close to home.
Does that seem too weird? I know I'm a little weird, but most of the people in this town are completely nuts. There's a difference, you know. And I'm not really sure which one of the two I am sometimes.
Anyway, you wanted my story from the beginning, right? That's where it starts. Walking through the snow. I was walking home last Monday, and I heard Marianne Cleaver coming up behind me.
"Jennnn-i-fffeerrrrr!" she shouted.
She was hopping around, trying to step in the footsteps everyone else had already left, making her braids flop about like they were snakes attached to her head. It's a safe bet that she's never had a single snowflake get into her shoes. If you ask me, Marianne is a remarkably boring person.
If you gave me a choice between talking to her and having a bunch of bowling balls dropped on my toes, I'd have to think long and hard about which to choose. If I were any meaner, I would have just run away, or maybe creamed her with so