Thaumaturgic

The Sound Of Sirens And Screams

The brass bell rings as I push in the wooden door of the café. I'm greeted by the smell of coffee and fresh pastries. People stare at me, wandering who let in the gust of cold air. I'm soaked too the skin. I had to run here from home with no umbrella, or coat. My trousers are three shades darker than they had been before I left the house. My black hoodie offered little protection, nor did my top. My feet are the only dry thing thanks to my new lace-up shoes. Damn the skies of Britain, always out to get me. I brush the water off my face and regain my breath.

Chester Nosilla is waiting for me in our usual seat by the window. Chester is my best friend in the whole world. I've known him since I moved here age six. I didn't know him well till secondary school where we sat next to each other in history. But since then we've been inseparable. Now we meet every day for coffee before school. Chester is possibly the most intelligent person I know. He, unlike my brothers, doesn't try and protect me, quite the opposite actually. I often end up protecting him. He was picked on when we were younger because he wears glasses and he used to be scrawny. He isn't any more, now he's rocking the whole hot nerd thing. Girls giggle when he passes in the corridor, which pisses me off because of how shallow they are. Before they would have sneered and mumbled rude comments but now... And it's not like they know anything about him. They don't know that he likes poetry and card games, and how every Sunday he goes to a book club from five till six. They don't know that he can fit twelve marshmallows in his mouth. That he can throw a javelin two point three meters, that he makes the best cheesecake I've ever tasted. They don't know him at all. He deserves better than someone who only likes his for his looks.

Chester has untamed, auburn hair, earthy green eyes hidden behind thick black glasses and a slim face. He's about as tall as Nathan and regularly reminds me of the height difference between us. He's sitting hunched over the table, nose in the latest second-hand book from his club. Wearing his favourite blue hoodie, which only has a few dark speckles of rain. Two cups are on the table. He must have ordered for me; I always order regular if it's raining. I don't know what Chester's ordered; he's working his way through the whole menu.

"Moring bookworm." I say as I pull out a chair.

"Oh hey." He closed the book and returns it to his worn backpack. "Is it raining or something?" He jeers.

"It is actually." I ring out my hair and wipe my wet hands on his cheek.

"Hey!" He complains.

"How are you so dry?" I sit down.

"You mean apart from my face?" He wipes it on his sleeve. "Mum."

"Of course," I lean back in my chair "and how was nerd club?"

"Good. Got a new book, it called the dark is rising. It's by Susan Cooper."

"Cool. I've never heard of it."

He lets out an amused sigh and look down. "Of course, you haven't." He looks back up and flashes his teeth in my favourite grin. "Basically, it's about this boy and he finds out that he's the last of this ancient, magical race and he has to collect seven symbols in order to defeat the dark people. It's set around here."