Tuesday starts out the same: school bus, class, and working on my grass-moving skills outside after lunch. Time drags as I try to imagine what is happening at home. And in the trees at the edge of Mr. Albertson"s land.
The school is having parent-teacher conferences Thursday and Friday, so no school on those days. I"m eager to get back to magic lessons. And the practice of making those dang wisps of dead grass obey.
I"m not worried about what my teachers will say to Granny at the conference. I always get good grades and try to stay outta trouble. That"s not hard, seeing I only have a few friends. Least this year, I"m not getting bullied. That"s because Jenny, the queen of bullies, got lost over the summer, and I was the one who found her. She owes me, and she knows it, even though most o
