Chapter Three
Mark sat on the school bus as it ambled down the still-dark country lanes, the snow-laden stone walls bobbing at various heights past the window. It was supposed to be sunny this morning, or so the weatherman said. All that meant to Mark, was the cloudless night translated into lots of ice. Not his favourite.
Mark was taking advantage of the ride, reading the book on auras before he had to switch into school mode. It was pretty dense and dull stuff – only the personal comments scribbled in the borders made it more bearable than a school textbook. There were a lot of comments about clearing your mind, to increase your perception – not likely on a bus filled with school kids.
“Is this seat taken?”
Mark looked up at the speaker and was surprised to see Damian standing there.
“Yes - I mean, no.” Mark pulled his rucksack off the spare seat. “Sit down.”
Mark glanced about the bus, there were a few spare seats next to other students, but Damian had decided to sit next to him! His internal cartwheels collapsed when he realised that he might be the only student Damian knew at the moment.
“I thought your aunt drove you to school?” Mark asked.
“She only made the effort for my first day. I think she wanted to make sure I actually attended school.” Damian glanced down at the book in Mark’s lap. “Reading anything good?”
“No… um, sort of. It’s just a book my Nanna gave me.”
“The same Nanna that has you all dancing naked round a fire?”
Mark felt a wave of heat prickling up his neck. “I was hoping you didn’t hear all that.”
“I heard enough.” Damian replied, smirking. “It was actually the most entertaining thing I heard all day.”
“Don’t worry, it’s just a joke. Built on the misconceptions of the many.” Mark answered, before realising how much of an idiot he sounded. He bit the inside of his lip and looked out at the scene of glittering fields.
“Huh.” Without a word, Damian plucked the little red hardback book out of his hands and flicked to the cover page. “Auras?”
“Hey, give it back!” Mark argued. “I thought Londoners were allergic to conversing with strangers on buses.”
“Maybe I’m embracing Northern customs. Besides, you’re not a stranger, we met yesterday. I even know your name.” Damian shrugged, but didn’t take his eyes off the writing. “So… auras?”
“It’s nothing… it’s… OK, if I’m honest, what I’ve read of it is kinda cool. It’s about seeing past the image people project, and seeing the aura of their true selves. Maybe I could use you as my guinea pig – see whether you’re north or south!”
Damian smiled, although this time it didn’t reach his cool blue eyes. He closed the book and handed it back to Mark. “I don’t think I’d make a very interesting subject.”
The bus jerked as the brakes went on and everyone began to move, ready to file off. Were they at school already?
Mark pulled his coat on and when he turned back, Damian had already gone. He swore silently and berated himself. He’d sounded like a freak, maybe he should stick to talking about the weather next time. If there was a next time; Damian was probably not going to make the mistake of sitting next to him again.
Mark made his way off the bus, thinking of nothing more than getting through this blasted day. As soon as he stepped onto the icy pavement, his feet slipped from under him. Mark yelped as his backside hit the hard ground. He was aware of the laughter of others around him. This was definitely one of the worst starts to the day he’d had in a while.
A gloved hand was offered, and Mark took it thankfully. Less than gracefully, he got to his feet. Mark froze when he saw his helper.
“You?”
“I could have just pointed and laughed like the others.” Damian replied, shrinking away. “Sorry if I seem to be stalking you – I’m not, by the way. I just… I don’t know many people yet and-“
“No! That’s… sorry I was being rude.” Mark interrupted. It was odd to witness babbling from someone else. He found it strangely endearing from Damian; although Mark imagined his own babbling was considered annoying. “I only thought that with me being weird on the bus, you would’ve scarpered.”
“You weren’t weird.” Damian responded, then amended his statement, “OK, you weren’t that weird.”
Mark gave a crooked smile and started to walk towards school.
“So what’s it all about?” Damian asked. “The aura and the ritual stuff?”
Mark glanced over his shoulder, but saw nobody near; although it was hardly a secret. “My Nanna’s a witch.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so.”
“And what about you?” Damian asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Are you a witch, too?” He shrugged. “You were reading a book about auras on the school bus.”
“I guess I’m a witch-in-training.” Mark replied hesitantly. “It turns out Nanna was waiting until I was sixteen to see if I wanted to learn about witchcraft.”
“And do you? Want to be a witch and everything?”
“I dunno, I guess so. I mean, I won’t have to do anything I don’t want to do, and a bit more knowledge can’t hurt.” Mark looked over at Damian. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”
“S’alright. It’s good to have someone to talk to.” Damian replied. “My aunt tiptoes around me at home, afraid I’m going to break if she says the wrong thing. So she tends to say nothing at all.”
“Yeah.” Mark replied, feeling awkward broaching such a terrible topic. “I heard about your parents, I’m sorry.”
Damian sighed. “Everyone’s so sorry. Can we not talk about it?”
“Sure.” Mark replied quickly. He felt relieved that Damian had closed the topic, then immediately felt guilty for it.
He looked up and saw Harry and Sarah waiting for him outside History class. They both looked surprised at the company Mark kept.
“Hi Damian.” Sarah greeted. “Are you in History with us?”
“Hi… Sarah, isn’t it?” Damian looked down at the bubbly girl. “No, I’m taking Geography GCSE instead.”
“That’s down the corridor, last door on the left.” Harry said, gesturing that way.
“OK, guess I’ll see you all later.”
“Yeah, you should join us at dinner.” Mark said, wanting to take advantage of being on friendly terms. “I mean, if you don’t have any other plans.
“That sounds cool.” The bell rang and Damian gave an awkward half-wave, and made his way to Geography.
Mark turned to see the questioning faces of his two friends, but he wasn’t in any rush to give answers. “Shall we get to class?”
“Since when are you the swot?” Harry retorted, but filed into the History classroom.