The Magpie Effect - The Magpie Chronicles Book 1 (#Wattys2015)

Chapter One

"How come you want to swap so bad?" She poked her tongue out, enveloped in thick pink gum, and blew so that it bubbled to the size of an apple. When it popped, she reeled it back in expertly. "Is Trevor talking about farming again?"

Trevor opened his gummy mouth in reproach, but I cut across him. "It's nothing to do with Trevor - no offense, buddy," I said, sparing him an apologetic glance. "Please, just swap?"

Harriet turned subtly on the spot, paused slightly on noticing The Peroxides chattering away in the corner, and looked back at me with knowing in her eyes. "Saffy, you can't just shy away from those stick insects forever."

"You don't understand. It's not what I won't do if they come over, it's what I will do that bothers me."

She rolled her eyes at me, her tongue working lackadaisically in her cheeks. "Sorry, Saffy, you need to brave this one out," she said, and then she vanished back into the kitchen.

I groaned and buried my head into my hands just as a glimmer of pink told me that Carmen and one of her camaraderie were approaching. Trevor looked down into his pint, as though all manner of metaphysical secrets could be found in the dregs at the bottom.

"Just do it, kiddo."

I turned towards the voice, and saw Beverly leaning against the end of the bar. She was a burly woman, with an old anchor tattoo etched into the thick meat of her arm, but she was as sweet as syrup once you got to know her. There was a greasy towel cast over her shoulder, which she suddenly grabbed and tightened between her fingertips. "They give you any trouble, send 'em to Bev."

I forced a smile. "Thanks, Bev," I said, and watched as she followed Harriet into the kitchen.

"Hey, Sweet-Eater."

Her voice fluttered across the bar, and I was forced to look at her. She was wearing a slash of scarlet red lipstick, her honey coloured hair pulled up into a loose, flirtatious ponytail. Her cheeks were caked with make-up, but not in the way that made her look patchy and orange. She really knew how to paint it on so that she looked natural, so that she looked like a glowing cosmetics billboard.

Simply put, Carmen was everything I wasn't. She was the tall-and-thin to my short-and-podgy. She had the flawless skin and the glistening eyes that looked like they spent a lot of their time laughing (now that was a cruel joke). I had freckles across the bridge of my nose and eyes that never really looked anything other than tired. The only thing we had in common was the hair, even though mine was a bit mousier in colour.

"Carmen," I grumbled, and then to her accomplice, Holly Ryeland, "Holly. What can I get for you?"

"Four strawberry milkshakes," she said. "Don't hold back on the whipped cream - but don't eat it, either."

I glared at her as I pounded the buttons on the till. "Seven fifty, please."

Carmen raised a hand and Holly came to attention, rummaging through her purse and pouring her change into Carmen's hand. Carmen passed it over to me with a polite smile. "So how was your summer?"

"Fine," I muttered. "Yours?"

"It was great," she replied. "I did some lifeguard work down at the open swimming pool."

"Oh."

"It was fun, I got to sit around all day in my bikini and soak up the sun," Carmen said. She reached up with a tactical hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, displaying a bronzed, perky bosom. "I didn't see you there at all, Saffy. How come?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said. "Swimming isn't really my thing."

"It's like a foot of water, Saffy. Sort of hard to drown in."