Antonia, Ewan, Matilda and Axel, on their quest to master the magic!
Antonia, 22nd April
"Antonia!" my dad yelled in his thick Jamaican accent.
"What?" I yelled back in my strong London one.
"Get the balloons out of the front room! I can't stand the things. I can't see why you have to have them. You're too old for them!"
"Ugh!" I groaned. "They release the child in me! It's not like there was much else to do!"
"Oh please, your friends were bored. Bored, I tell you."
"That's 'cause there was nothing to do!"
"Just do it, girl!"
"All right!" I sighed and reluctantly pushed my laptop off of my crossed legs. Sometimes I really couldn't believe that man. Doesn't like balloons. Pfft. I shook my head and smiled as I walked into the living room of our small, one bedroom bungalow. From the sight I saw I couldn't put Dad wrong. Balloons are OK, but when they basically fill a room it can be too much. It was just a multicolour mess of floating, inflated ovals. I decided that the best way to go about this would be to pop them all, but since I had neither the patience nor the co-ordination to do so I just settled for putting them all in the back garden and letting them float away.
It was going quite well for roughly ten minutes, but there was this one balloon and every time I tried to grab it, it would float away from me as if I was trying to force two magnets of the same pole together rather than just trying to grab helium inflated rubber. It was a purple balloon, which is strong in my memory not because of how it wouldn't let me get to it, and not because of why it wouldn't let me get to it. I remember it so well because of the strange blue stripe that ran down it from top to bottom.
At last I managed to corner it by the TV, and I gently took it, upon which it promptly popped, spilling a pile of silver glitter onto the cream carpet.
"Oh," I blinked stupidly. I heard a chuckle from behind me.
"Hey, don't worry," said the guy, obviously responding to the look of shock on my face. "Your dad knows."
"Knows what?" I asked. I've never been one for suspicion, and that's probably why I wasn't even bothered that some random guy was in my living room.
The boy sighed, seeming a little impatient. "You're coming with me."
"Before Christmas, please. I was supposed to pick someone else up before you but you got Summoned first so I didn't have a choice."
"What are you talking about?" While I wasn't one for suspicion, I did like to know what the hell was going on when I'm being taken away from home.
"You're going to school. Can we please get a move on?"
"But… it's Saturday," I said pointlessly, and also stupidly, as always.
"School starts on Sunday and you get Monday, Tuesday and Thursday off."
"Oh," I couldn't help a little smile at that. Me and my friends had always said it would be better if we had three days off. "I guess I have to go then."
"Yes," the guy looked utterly relieved that I'd finally got the point. "What's your name?"
"Antonia Presley. What's yours?" This was my automatic response.
The boy sighed. "Just call me Bankley, all right?"
"Great. Now, let's go." He grabbed my wrist before I could object and then we were gone.