My head buzzed in discomfort as I rested it against the car window, I stared out at the green blur of trees. Eventually, staring at the world spin past the car made me dizzy. I closed my eyes and prayed the nausea would ease up if I took a nap.
But in a car filled with Whitlock women, that was going to be quite a chore. Next to me, my little sister Serina was bobbing her head up and down to the music which was pumping out of her pink earbuds, her blonde curls bouncing. I could hear the base and it drilled into my brain, making any hope of sleep impossible.
I stared at Annabelle, the second oldest daughter of our family, with envy. Her head lolled back over her neck pillow; she had managed to overcome the obstacles leading to a nice little nap.
'You okay back there?' My mum peered into the rear-view mirror, smiling at him.
'I'm tired and Serina's music is way too loud. She's going to hurt her ears.' I replied, sitting upright.
'Serina turn your music down!' Morgan, my eldest sister hollered. Serina squinted her eyes at her, her mouth forming a silent what.
I yanked out one of the offending items, and shouted into her ear, 'your music is too loud!'
She slapped my arm in response, shoving it back into her ear. She lifted up the phone and made a show of turning the music down.
'Are we nearly there yet?' Annabelle said, her voice sleepy. I could almost hear Serina's eyes rolling at the stupidity of our sister's question.
'As a matter of fact, we are! Ten minutes is my best guess!' Our mother said cheerfully, her face breaking into a radiant smile.
Best guess, I echoed her voice in my head. Jayne Whitlock never guessed. She just knew.
In fact, everyone in the car knew. Because we, the Whitlocks, are no ordinary family. My sisters and I were the next generation of witches in our family, which has been around for centuries. And I say witches in the broadest sense of the term because I am, in fact, the first boy to be born into the Whitlock family. Because there has never been a male witch before everyone has struggled with finding a new term for me.
I just kind of got used to being called a witch.
'Why couldn't we just teleport?' Moaned Morgan; sinking down in her chair. 'This drive has been horrible.'
'Because,' Mum said with a sense of pride, 'I want us to settle in nicely here. I think this place will be good for us. I'm not sure the estate agent will be too pleased if we just teleport into our new driveway.'
'We could have teleported onto the road and walked up the drive,' suggested Serina.
'Yes, but we've already used the car so there is no point in thinking about what we "could have" done.' Annabelle snapped.
'Oh shut up,' Serina sneered. I rolled my eyes and rested my head against the window again as the pair started to bicker noisily next to me.
'Stop it you two!' Mum said quietly and the pair fell silent.
We spent the next five minutes in silence, all of us peering out of the windows to get a better look at the town we would all be living in. It was typical of a country settlement; one large chain supermarket then many smaller, independent shops dotted around the town centre. As we passed further and further through the town, houses became more sparse until we reached a small, neat-looking neighbourhood on the outskirts of the town.
It wasn't difficult to pick out where we'd be living. It was the largest house on the end of the street with the most weed-ridden garden and shabbiest porch. Mum usually chose houses like this because she enjoyed fixing them; she claimed it helped her brush up on her magick skills. It also helps spur on many a rumour when the garden was suddenly filled with flowers and saplings the morning after we move in.
She pulled into the driveway with a satisfied sigh.
'Home sweet home.'