Page 146 of The Pushy Pixies Are Going Down

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And all I could do was stare at the little gnome wearing a turquoise hat, staring right back at me with beady black eyes.

“Meeeeeeeeeeeeep!”

Miles screamed.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Meep

“My hooooman!” I yelled, finally getting his attention after so many, many moons.

He screamed.

His kissy-kissy man yelled at me, waving his arms back and forth.

The young ones came in.

Yelling. So much yelling.

“It’s a gnome!” Kissy-kissy man yelled.

“Do something, Win! Please!” my hooman yelled, waving at me.

“Ahh!” He’s waving at me! My hooman wants me.

I stepped forward.

Everyone screamed, and my hooman, my magic hooman, jumped up and down, flicking his hands and doing a jig.A jig!

I gasped.

My hooman was dancing!

My body moved before I knew it, my feet tapping, my arms waving in the air.

This was fun!

I was dancing with my hooman!

My hooman screamed again, and I froze, staring up at him. He was pretty. And nice. He loved all the faeries in the house—the firebird, the dragon.

And hopefully, me.

But he was scared.

What was my hooman scared of?

I turned in a circle, looking for the threat.

No one. Nothing.

I faced the hoomans again, and my hooman whimpered, watching me with wide, terrified eyes.

Oh.

He was scared of me.

Still.

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