Chapter SEVEN
“Look out!” Quick as a flash, Kirsten dropped her stick and shoved against Helena with her whole body.
“Oh!” Helena skidded and only just managed to stop herself from falling over. Her hockey stick slammed down, missing the ball.
Pheep! Miss Strong blew the whistle for a foul as she ran toward them. “I saw that, Kirsten! You did it deliberately. I will not tolerate this behavior. Go and get changed and wait for me in the classroom.”
Helena stood there with a hurt expression on her face. She looked more upset than angry.
Kirsten felt terrible, but at least Storm was uninjured. Her shoulders drooped as she trailed across the field.
Tracy jogged up to her. “What happened? I thought you were starting to like Helena.”
“I was . . . I am . . .” Kirsten said.
“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it!”
“I wasn’t trying to hurt Helena, honest!” Kirsten protested. “But I couldn’t help it—” She stopped. There was nothing else she could say without giving away Storm’s secret. “I can’t explain. But you have to believe me.”
Tracy looked puzzled. “I don’t know, Kirsten . . .”
Sighing heavily, Kirsten left the field and headed for the changing rooms.
Storm bounded after her. “Thank you for saving me, Kirsten,” he panted. “But now you are in even more trouble because of me.”
“I’ll live with it,” Kirsten said resignedly. “It’s more important that you’re okay. It was my fault, anyway. I should have warned you to stay off the hockey field. Don’t worry, Miss Strong will probably make me write out a hundred lines or clean the art cabinet. It’s no big deal.”
But the teacher decided on a more serious punishment.
“Detention!” Kirsten cried, gaping at her. “But I can’t stay behind after school, Miss. I’ve got majorette practice.”
“I’m afraid you should have thought of that earlier,” Miss Strong said firmly, adjusting her glasses—today they were bright red. “I’ll let your parents know that you’ll be home late.”
At the end of the day’s lessons, Kirsten sat with her chin propped in her hands as everyone filed out of class.
“Bad luck,” Helena said as she passed Kirsten’s desk. “No hard feelings, eh?” And for once, she sounded as if she meant it.
“Thanks,” Kirsten said, managing a half-smile. Helena was being really fair about this and Kirsten realized that she’d stopped minding so much about Helena becoming best friends with her and Tracy. Maybe it could work—if she hadn’t now messed things up.
Miss Strong picked up a pile of papers from her desk. “I have a few things to do in the staff room. I won’t be long. Continue working on your art project, please.” She went out and closed the classroom door behind her.
Kirsten groaned. “Now what am I going to do? I can’t afford to miss practice. There’re only a few left before the town parade.”
Storm’s furry face lit up. “I have an idea!”
Kirsten felt a familiar prickling sensation down her spine as bright gold sparks danced in Storm’s shaggy, light brown fur and his bristly whiskers glowed with electricity.
There was a bright flash and a silent explosion of sparks. Pop! Kirsten’s CD player appeared out of thin air and floated on to the floor. Crack! Her baton clattered down beside the CD player. Rustle! Her school uniform was magically transformed into a T-shirt, a short pleated skirt, and sneakers.
Kirsten beamed at her tiny friend. “Thanks, Storm. You’re amazing!”
She switched on the CD player at a low volume so no one would overhear, and the intro music softly started. For the next twenty minutes or so, Kirsten and Storm marched up and down and around the empty classroom. The tiny puppy knew the routine now and Kirsten hardly needed to tell him what to do.
“That was great,” Kirsten puffed, flexing her fingers after all the baton twirling. “I can’t wait until we’re marching in the real parade! Let’s do one more run-through before Miss Strong comes back.”
Storm suddenly froze and his ears twitched. “I think she is coming now!”
Waving a paw, he sent another spray of golden sparks through the air. Crackle! The CD player and baton disappeared instantly and Kirsten was, once again, wearing her school uniform.
As the classroom door began to open, Kirsten realized that she was nowhere near her desk where she was supposed to be working on her project. “Uh-oh, Miss Strong’s going to go bananas. I’ll probably get triple detention now!”
There was a sudden mega-whoosh of movement and Kirsten felt herself flying through the air.
“Oof!” She landed in her chair with a bump.
She was only just in time. Miss Strong’s small, neat figure appeared in the doorway.
“You can clean up your things and go now, Kirsten. I think I’ve made my point. Let’s have no more of this silly behavior. It’s just not like you.”
“No, Miss. Thanks,” Kirsten said in a subdued voice.
Storm had a mischievous look on his face. He had obviously really enjoyed their practice session and was disappointed that it had been cut short. Leaping up to balance on his back legs, he began pirouetting toward the door.
A big bubble of laughter threatened to burst from Kirsten’s lips. She stuffed her work into her school bag and ran into the hallway.
