Chapter 1
B’s paintbrush hovered over the rough paper tacked to her easel. With the faintest of strokes, she trailed the tips of the bristles in a graceful arc.
Perfect.
Another whisker for Nightshade, her cat.
Only about twenty more to go.
With an apron tied around her waist and a spare paintbrush stuck in her ponytail, Beatrix, or “B” for short, glanced at the photo of her black tomcat pinned to the corner of the easel, dipped her brush in black paint, and carefully sketched another whisker.
Miss Willow, B’s art teacher, strolled around the room. “Nice job, B,” she said as she passed B’s easel.
“Thanks,” B said, quite pleased with how her masterpiece was turning out. She just couldn’t stop thinking of black cats. The Black Cats were B’s favorite band, and B was going to see them this Saturday live in concert.
“Quit humming, Bumblebee,” Jason Jameson said. “You sound like a beehive, and you’re giving the rest of us a headache.”
B glowered at Jason, who’d been a raging pest ever since preschool. Now they were in sixth grade, and he was even worse. She hadn’t realized she was humming as she painted, but that didn’t mean she was going to let Jason Jameson have the last word. He and his insect insults, reserved specially for B, drove her buggy.
“What’s the matter, don’t you like the song?” B said, pretending to sound innocent. “I thought everyone liked the Black Cats.”
“Was that ‘Yowl’ you were humming?” Jamal Burns asked. “That’s their newest song.”
“I bet that’ll be the first song they play on Saturday,” Kim Silsby said. “I’m so jealous thatyou get to go, B. You’ll have to tell us everything about the concert.”
B grinned. “I’m only going because George is the best friend ever.” He’d won the tickets by coming in first in their English class’s spelling bee and shared one of his tickets with B. “I can’t wait until Saturday night.”
“You’re not the only one with tickets, Cockroach,” Jason scoffed. “My parents bought me a seat in the second row. Betcha don’t know how much that cost!”
“Who cares what it cost? Quit showing off, Jason,” Kim said and turned back to B. “Don’t you and George have front-row tickets?”
“Yes,” B said, almost unable to contain her excitement. Her smile stretched so big her face almost hurt.
“Front row!” Jamal interjected. “Man, you’re so lucky. You’ll get to see the color of their eyes. Maybe even what they had for dinner.”
“Ew,
gross!”
B laughed. She couldn’t wait until Saturday to see her favorite band and her first realrock concert. It was like Christmas, Easter, the Fourth of July, Halloween, and her birthday all rolled into one.
“Students,”
Miss Willow interrupted. “Please! No chitter-chatter. Everyone back to their work.”
B’s classmates slipped behind their easels. B carefully painted another whisker, and then another, peering at the photograph between strokes to get each one perfect.
She was on her second-to-last one when Miss Willow’s voice made her jump, causing B to drag her brush across Nightshade’s face and smear one of his amber-colored eyes.
“Everyone,” her art teacher said in an extra-cheery voice, “I have an announcement to make.”
B groaned. Her painting was ruined! Here was where a little spot of magic would come in handy. Checking quickly to see that no one was looking at her easel, B whispered, “E-R-A-S-E.” The black smudge disappeared, as B had known it would — but so did all the whiskers she’d added that morning. B sighed. It was typical of B’s special brand of magic.When she spelled words, things happened, but not always the things she had in mind.
“For heaven’s sake, don’t paint all over yourselves, Dustin and Jake! Now, class,” Miss Willow said in that same extrasweet voice, “I want you all to meet a new student in our school, just joining us today. Her name is Katrina Lang.”
B forgot
B’s paintbrush hovered over the rough paper tacked to her easel. With the faintest of strokes, she trailed the tips of the bristles in a graceful arc.
Perfect.
Another whisker for Nightshade, her cat.
Only about twenty more to go.
With an apron tied around her waist and a spare paintbrush stuck in her ponytail, Beatrix, or “B” for short, glanced at the photo of her black tomcat pinned to the corner of the easel, dipped her brush in black paint, and carefully sketched another whisker.
Miss Willow, B’s art teacher, strolled around the room. “Nice job, B,” she said as she passed B’s easel.
“Thanks,” B said, quite pleased with how her masterpiece was turning out. She just couldn’t stop thinking of black cats. The Black Cats were B’s favorite band, and B was going to see them this Saturday live in concert.
“Quit humming, Bumblebee,” Jason Jameson said. “You sound like a beehive, and you’re giving the rest of us a headache.”
B glowered at Jason, who’d been a raging pest ever since preschool. Now they were in sixth grade, and he was even worse. She hadn’t realized she was humming as she painted, but that didn’t mean she was going to let Jason Jameson have the last word. He and his insect insults, reserved specially for B, drove her buggy.
“What’s the matter, don’t you like the song?” B said, pretending to sound innocent. “I thought everyone liked the Black Cats.”
“Was that ‘Yowl’ you were humming?” Jamal Burns asked. “That’s their newest song.”
“I bet that’ll be the first song they play on Saturday,” Kim Silsby said. “I’m so jealous thatyou get to go, B. You’ll have to tell us everything about the concert.”
B grinned. “I’m only going because George is the best friend ever.” He’d won the tickets by coming in first in their English class’s spelling bee and shared one of his tickets with B. “I can’t wait until Saturday night.”
“You’re not the only one with tickets, Cockroach,” Jason scoffed. “My parents bought me a seat in the second row. Betcha don’t know how much that cost!”
“Who cares what it cost? Quit showing off, Jason,” Kim said and turned back to B. “Don’t you and George have front-row tickets?”
“Yes,” B said, almost unable to contain her excitement. Her smile stretched so big her face almost hurt.
“Front row!” Jamal interjected. “Man, you’re so lucky. You’ll get to see the color of their eyes. Maybe even what they had for dinner.”
“Ew,
gross!”
B laughed. She couldn’t wait until Saturday to see her favorite band and her first realrock concert. It was like Christmas, Easter, the Fourth of July, Halloween, and her birthday all rolled into one.
“Students,”
Miss Willow interrupted. “Please! No chitter-chatter. Everyone back to their work.”
B’s classmates slipped behind their easels. B carefully painted another whisker, and then another, peering at the photograph between strokes to get each one perfect.
She was on her second-to-last one when Miss Willow’s voice made her jump, causing B to drag her brush across Nightshade’s face and smear one of his amber-colored eyes.
“Everyone,” her art teacher said in an extra-cheery voice, “I have an announcement to make.”
B groaned. Her painting was ruined! Here was where a little spot of magic would come in handy. Checking quickly to see that no one was looking at her easel, B whispered, “E-R-A-S-E.” The black smudge disappeared, as B had known it would — but so did all the whiskers she’d added that morning. B sighed. It was typical of B’s special brand of magic.When she spelled words, things happened, but not always the things she had in mind.
“For heaven’s sake, don’t paint all over yourselves, Dustin and Jake! Now, class,” Miss Willow said in that same extrasweet voice, “I want you all to meet a new student in our school, just joining us today. Her name is Katrina Lang.”
B forgot
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