A Familiar's Guide to Magic

blind mice

A moment later the security officer walked through the door to the front office. My mother sighed at the sight of him, stepping in his direction and sending a glance in my direction, before motioning for me with a flick of her fingers.

"Let's make this quick. I need to get back to work."

"...Right." I leaned down, snatching up my backpack.

"We'll have a hearing with the student board next week."

A hearing? That sounded bad. Sure, I made a mess of things. But no one was seriously injured and no property damaged beyond repair. Plus, it was an accident.

"Of course. We'll both be there."

I tried to hide the tiny flinch at the tired tone in my mother's voice. This was more than simple disappointment. It made me want to hang my head in shame. I loved my mother. It was always, only the two of us since I could remember. She worked hard to make sure we had the things we needed, and never complained.

Maybe when I was younger, she found my little misdeeds endearing. Pinching my ears or giving me playful swats on my butt—sending me to bed without a treat. But as I've grown that's changed. More often I caught her watching me with concern and sorrow.

What if she was tired of me and couldn't say it? My stomach twisted into painful knots at the thought. A hand fell on my shoulder, and I almost hissed as I turned my face to Mr. Shipley.

"I hope you'll use this week to think over everything carefully. It might even be a good idea to prepare an apology for the board. Though I don't expect it to save you from the consequences."

He pulled away, and with a farewell nod, disappeared back into his office. 

* * *

The car ride home was painfully quiet and it was only worse now that we were parked in the driveway of our house.

"Charlotte—" mother started to say something, then stopped with a sigh as she met my stare through the rearview mirror. Her fingers drummed against the steering wheel. The idling of the engine was the only other sound for a long moment.

"Listen, I know that I've been pretty absent lately. And I know you must be lonely—"

"Mom, this wasn't a cry for help or something. It really was an accident, swear."

The anxious drumming stopped. "I don't know what to do anymore, Charlie. We can't keep going on like this. There aren't many schools willing to take you at this point and we can't keep moving—"

"What about homeschool? Then I could get a job and help with—"

"Charlotte, please!" she snapped. "I can't do this with you right now."

Silence stretched between us and it was hard to ignore the burning ache in my chest.

"I'm trying here, Charlie. It would be great if you could try for me too."

"Fine."

"I know it's hard for you—"

"Mhm."

She let out a small shaky breath, and I reeled in my frustration. Throwing my head back against the seat and staring out the back window at the drifting white clouds.

"You work on that apology and I'll find a way to smooth things over with Mr. Shipley and the student board." If there was anyone who could fix this situation it was my mother.

A strange zap of electricity rushed up my back and stinging the back of my neck. I hissed at the sensation, reaching up to rub at it. The hairs on my arms were standing on end as the residual tingle rushed over my skin. Only a minute later, there was another zap, this time I twisted around in my seat—checking.