Page 16 of Uncharmed

‘Would you?’ Maeve said, before giving another eye-roll so cutting that Annie was strongly reminded of Morena.

Annie turned to see what had earned such a reaction from Maeve and her hands flew to her mouth as one of the boys pulled down his trousers and pressed his entire bare backside against the glass windows.

‘If you have a spell to successfully pluck my eyeballs from my skull, I’d appreciate prioritizing that one,’ Maeve said coolly, closing her sketchbook and leaning both elbows on the thick cover to rest her chin on her hands.

‘Are they always like this?’ Annie hissed, entirely horrified.

‘Oh no,’ Maeve said calmly. ‘They’re actually being far more gentlemanly than usual. You have to feel sorry for them really. This is them genuinely trying their absolute level best to impress you.’

‘But they’re...awful,’ Annie said in disbelief.

‘Yes. They’re teenage boys,’ Maeve said. ‘What did you expect? Having said that, the girls aren’t much better. I’m telling you, this school is dishing out lobotomies for free somewhere. Just waiting on my invitation to arrive any day now.’

Annie blinked at her. Maybe this girl wasn’t quite as unsure of herself as she had first thought. ‘It’s starting to make sense now why you build a book barrier.’

‘It’s generally considered embarrassing to be publicly literate at this school, so I try to remind them as often as possible. It helps ensure they all maintain a wide berth.’

‘Can’t say I blame you,’ Annie said, reaching for a brownie herself now. ‘So you’re a bookworm, hey?’

Maeve tugged down her sleeves again. ‘Reading or drawing, most of the time.’

‘Maybe you can give me some recommendations, seeing as we’ve got a fair bit of time to spend together?’ Annie said softly, feeling triumphant when she earned an uncertain but slightly proud nod in return.

‘Sure, I can do that.’

‘Great! I thought we’d go back to Celeste – that’s my bakery in London – and have hot chocolates while we chat about how this is going to work and how you’d like to approach.

..you know, the m-word.’ Annie silently mouthed ‘magic’ just in case of confusion, to which Maeve gave her a slow, obvious nod. ‘How does that sound?’

Maeve faltered. ‘How will we get there?’

‘Don’t you worry about that – magical transference is a wonderful invention. I can carry your bag for you, if you like?’

‘That’s okay. I long ago resigned myself to future back problems.’

‘Seriously, pass it here,’ Annie insisted, tugging the hefty backpack towards her.

She reached for her briefcase and unclipped the golden fastenings so that it sprung open.

It was jam-packed with various cosy fleece materials adorned with feathers, a few iridescent skincare products in fancy-looking glass bottles, a sequinned notebook.

..Essentials. With a huff, she plonked Maeve’s backpack on top of it all, then closed the case.

Under the weight of the lid, the backpack compressed down like a deflating balloon that exhaled a stream of pink sparks, until it was flattened to paper-thin with the rest of her things and Annie snapped it shut easily.

Maeve shot to her feet, peering awestruck over the top of her glasses.

‘How did you...’

Annie gave her a smug smile. ‘Magic.’

Maeve looked as though she was daring herself to say something. ‘Can you...Can you teach me how to do that?’

‘Sure! That’s actually a pretty easy one, a simple Leve Bona incantation that I sprinkle onto.

..well, every handbag I think I’ve ever carried, actually.

I’m not really one for travelling light; I like to have options.

Do you want to put those in too?’ Annie gestured towards the stack of sketchbooks that were at Maeve’s elbow.

Maeve hurriedly gathered them in her arms and clutched them close to her chest.

‘No, thank you, I can carry these.’

‘Okay! In that case, shall we make a move?’ Annie said as she rose from the table and gave Maeve what she hoped would be an encouraging nod.

Things were already proving a lot dicier to navigate without the spell in place to make sure that she could always say the right thing.

At least the brownies were working, though.

This time, with fewer eyes on her, it felt lighter to walk through the crowded canteen.

She turned to make a joke about it with Maeve, pleased that they’d all lost interest, and only then realized that Maeve had fallen behind.

A gang of girls had closed in on her and blocked her path, one of them asking loudly who her new friend was.

‘Can’t get any of your own around here, so you have to hire some old woman in to be your mate? That’s actually embarrassing,’ that same orange girl said.

Old ? Annie was about to protest when Maeve immediately bit back.

‘Jessica, I don’t know when you found the impetus to organize your very own Moronic Ignoramus convention, but congratulations, I’m glad to see it was a roaring success.

It’s about time they gave you a promotion in the field,’ Maeve said.

She was bolder than Annie was expecting, jutting out her chin as she spoke.

Jessica looked at her blankly. ‘What are you on about, Sadness? Using big words again to make up for the fact you chat shit.’

Maeve sighed and tried to shoulder her way past the girls, but one shoved her hard and sent her sketchbooks tumbling to the floor. Annie darted to pick them up, but Maeve immediately shot her a warning look, which she knew meant to stay out of it.

Jessica snorted. ‘Drop a few more things on the floor, freak.’

‘Anything else valuable to add to my evening or can I go now?’ Maeve said as she stood with a completely unmoved expression. Jessica faltered, clearly running out of ideas for how to earn a laugh from her friends.

‘Erm...Your hair looks crap,’ she shouted as a last resort. ‘Did you wash it in the chip pan?’

Maeve held her gaze, stony-faced. ‘Yes. I simply love to wash my hair in vegetable oil.’

‘Going back to your coffin tonight?’ another girl chimed in.

‘How would I live in a coffin? Where would I keep the chip pan?’ Maeve turned to ask with a look of confusion.

At this, Jessica faltered again. ‘It’s ’cos you’re so pale,’ she said.

‘I gathered that much,’ Maeve nodded. ‘I can’t say I take that as much of an insult, though, when the only thing that could make you look pale would be the literal sun. You are tangerine. Is it intentional or are you trying to help air traffic control?’

Annie’s feet were glued in place, her arms frozen mid-swing, unsure whether she was supposed to step in.

The spell was proving wholly useless. In its absence, she glanced around for a teacher, but it seemed that the canteen was a kind of declared no-man’s land.

Maeve was holding her own and was evidently well practised at it, but the scene was making Annie’s chest ache. She longed to save her.

‘What’s in the books, Sadness?’ Jessica said, finally noticing a weak spot – the spray of open sketchbooks that had tumbled from Maeve’s arms. She reached for them, but Maeve was quicker and lunged to scoop them up, elbowing her out of the way.

Still, Jessica managed to snatch the top one from the stack.

‘Don’t touch that,’ Maeve blurted out. She snatched for it back, the words coming before she could keep her well-checked composure.

Jessica scoffed, opening one of the pages and showing it to everybody in the circle. ‘What freaky stuff have you been drawing, Sadness? Are these the plans for all the demon worshipping you do at home? In between your vampire-hunting shifts? Gonna put a curse on us all? Hang on, who’s this?’

Annie only caught a glimpse, but saw that it was an impressive sketch of a girl.

‘Have you got a secret girlfriend? Or is this meant to be you? You wish you were that pretty, Sadness.’

‘Give it back,’ Maeve called, her rehearsed calmness shrinking by the second.

A bloom of visible red embarrassment had spread behind her freckles and Annie found her heart tuning into Maeve’s anger, brewing in the air.

She sensed it easily, her heightened empathy latching on.

It was hanging like a storm cloud over the canteen, dark and intense and overpowering.

Jessica ripped out the page from the book and waved it over her head. ‘Everyone watch out, Sadness has been perving on us all and drawing us in secret. She’s probably getting off on it,’ she shrieked.

Annie’s own eyes filled when she noticed that Maeve was fighting back tears now, struggling as the other girls blocked her while Jessica shoved the sketches towards anyone who cared enough to look.

Annie couldn’t stand it any more – even if it did make Maeve furious.

Her desperate need to help took over. She marched towards the bundle of girls and tried to break a couple of them apart to pull Maeve out, a fiery protectiveness sparking at the pit of her stomach like kindling.

‘Stop it! It’s no one! That’s mine!’ Maeve shouted, oblivious to Annie.

Her whole body was tense, her face screwed up as she tried to snatch her art away.

‘Give it back!’ She was straining to be heard over their cruel laughter that filled the whole canteen, more and more students joining the crowd when they noticed the trouble.

Maeve was yelling, elbows flying in every direction around her. ‘Why can’t you just leave me alone? I’ve never done anything to you.’ On the final word, she flung an accusatory finger in Jessica’s direction.

A streak of flames shot through the air like a bolt from the blue.

The jet of fire only narrowly missed the very top of Jessica’s high ponytail and she yelped as it scorched her scrunchie, leaving a smoking trail behind it.

All in the huddle that had been tightly formed around Maeve leapt back, the group dispersed as though electrocuted.

The fire landed with a slam into the canteen wall, on a poster reminding students that kindness was always the coolest choice.

The paper immediately burst into ash and embers, leaving the grey wall covered in just a giant black scorch mark. For one short second, nobody moved.

Then the floor began to shake – a low rumble pushing up from underneath the building, as though the foundations were being rattled – and the shutters across each window slammed in unison with a deafeningly loud, metallic crash.

The fluorescent canteen lights cut out. The whole room was plunged into darkness and that soon broke the spell of silence.

The canteen erupted into screams, everyone flapping hysterically.

Annie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention.

She knew exactly what had caused the power surge.

Magic. Wild, strong magic.

‘Maeve...’ Annie called over the chaos, a slight edge of a warning tone that sounded unfamiliar in its adultness. She stepped towards what she recognized as Maeve’s silhouette in the pitch black.

‘I didn’t...I didn’t mean to...’

Annie reached for what she could just about make out as Maeve’s hand, to take it and lead her as quickly as possible away from the scene.

But she jumped when she took it, finding something unexpected wrapped tightly in the palm of Maeve’s hand.

With a few pink sparks, Annie cast out a small burst of torchlight to see it.

Maeve unfurled her fingers to reveal a perfect, round orange. A crackle of magic burst across the small green leaves.

‘Why do you have an...Oh no, is that...Is that Jessica?’ Annie whispered sharply.

Maeve peered up at her and just about managed a nod.

Annie nodded back in unison, a perfectly serene smile slowly appearing across her face – her default reaction in a crisis. ‘Okay. This is fine. This is absolutely fine. You bring your little friend there...and I will fix all of this. Somehow.’ Her smile twitched ever so slightly.

‘But...I just turned Jessica into an orange,’ Maeve replied, a little too loudly. Annie counted her lucky stars that the room was still raucous. Nobody seemed to have noticed in the darkness that Jessica had suddenly vanished with a distinct scent of smoke and citrus fruit.

‘Shhh. Yes, it would appear that you have indeed managed that. But that’s okay. That’s fine,’ Annie said calmly, placing a hand on Maeve’s shoulder to steer her. ‘Let’s get you out of here.’

Fortunately, in her stupor, Maeve blindly followed.

In the dark canteen, Annie was thankful that nobody seemed to notice the woman in the hot-pink power suit and the teenage girl clutching an orange striding towards the exit. Annie didn’t pay any of them much mind any more, focused only on making sure that Maeve was safely away.

Still, Annie couldn’t help but notice the boy who’d muttered the deplorable nicknames for Maeve.

He was busy shoving another poor boy into a headlock, taking full advantage of the chance to get away with whatever he wanted.

He earned a very sharp scowl, along with an almost imperceptible turn of a wrist. Without Splendidus Infernum to quiet her emotions, to take the sting out of something as imperfect as anger, for instance, the decision was made before Annie could talk herself out of it.

It was unfortunate that the poor boy would find himself with uncontrollable itching in the most unideal of orifices for the next couple of weeks, but it simply couldn’t be helped. Magic worked in such unpredictable ways.