Chapter 6

Surprisingly, I woke before my alarm. I slipped out of bed, noticing how filthy my feet were, which meant my nightdress and bedding were a mess too. I threw on a dressing gown and slipped across to the bathroom without rousing anyone. The shower would wake Mum, but there wasn’t much I could do about that.

With me thoroughly cleansed, I bundled up my nighty and headed back to my room wearing just my dressing gown. Mum appeared just as I closed the door, so I paused long enough to smile good morning to her.

Light tights probably unnecessary given the clement weather, pants and skater skirt complete with sewn in briefs. Light tee-shirt and short sleeve cardigan. The shoes needed a little bit of a wipe over, but fortunately the dusty final state of vampires meant no gore to speak of. I bundled up the sheet and duvet cover with my nighty, grabbed my phone and school bag and headed downstairs…

Where Mum was yawning hugely in the kitchen. I dodged into the utility room and loaded up the washer dryer. It was one of those fancy new ones that had reservoirs of detergent and fabric softener, so all I needed to do was set it to eco wash and dry and back out.

“Anything you want to tell me about?” Mum asked, pouring the contents of the kettle into a teapot.

“I may have messed up my bedding a little,” I said. “It’s in the wash. I’ll sort it when I get home.”

Mum slid a thing across the table to me.

“Oh, I’m not sure I need…”

“Better safe than sorry love. You know what to do with it?”

“I… Could you tell me?”

So she did, before sending me off to the downstairs loo to complete the lesson with a little solo practical activity.

To my relief, the thing fit. If I still wasn’t fully baked, then I had to be pretty close.

“I really don’t think I need it, Mum,” I said when I emerged fully equipped for emergencies. “I think I may have nicked a spot or something.”

“Well, humour me for now, will you. Keep that with you for the moment,” she slid another across the table to me, “and take the current one out at lunchtime. If there’s no blood, you should be okay. If there is put this one in.”

“Okay.”

“I thought I heard you moving about in the night. Do you feel bloated or have cramps at all?”

I shook my head. “Maybe a bad dream.”

“What sort of bad dream?”

“I dreamt I woke up and I was Mitchel again. We’d already thrown all my clothes out and I had to go to school in a skirt.” I wasn’t bad at fiction when I needed to be.

“Sounds pretty awful. I used to dream of standing up in front of the class to give a book report and suddenly finding myself naked.”

“I didn’t really care about the humiliation, Mum. It was the feeling of being male again. Wearing girl clothes just made it feel worse.” I didn’t need much imagination to put myself in that place.

“Well, dear, if it’s any consolation, what you’re currently going through is exclusively the province of women.”

I smiled ruefully. “It would be, Mum, only I don’t think I am. Not yet anyway.”

“Well, at least you don’t have the other main concern of a girl worrying over her monthly time not starting. At least I assume you don’t have that concern.”

I looked at her, shocked, but there was a mischievous twinkle on her eye.

“There’s my daughter,” she smiled, handing me over a mug of tea. “Now eat a proper breakfast. You need some carbs to keep that brain of yours ticking over.”

“I wonder if that’s what’s wrong with Clarrisa.”

Mum twitched an eyebrow.

“Clarrisa Cooper. Queen bee type at college. She’s the prettiest girl in the school, present company included, but she’s as thick as congealed porridge.”

“That’s not very kind, dear. If it’s something she can’t help, you could show her a little understanding.”

“I don’t think that’d work with Clarrisa. She’s not all that friendly.”

“Maybe if someone showed her a little friendship first, she’d learn to be.”

“I’m not making any promises, Mum.”

“Well, at least think about it. Remember what it was like when you first started school here.”

“That was hardly my fault.”

“I’m not saying it was. Perhaps the same is true for this Clarrisa.

“Besides, things are going to be different for you now. Your friends aren’t going to know how to treat you. I suspect a number of them won’t want to be around you anymore, and no, it’s not fair and it’s not your fault. Just think about how that makes you feel before deciding how you’re going to treat others.

“Oh, and while you’re at it, you may want to give some thought to how you’d like other people to see you. Are you sure you want to spend your first day in college in a short skirt and fuck me shoes?”

“Mum!”

“I’m not going to apologise. That’s just what they are, and your feet are going to hurt like hell by the time you get to the end of the day.

“Look, you’re nearly eighteen, so it’s a little late to start trying to tell you what to do – not that I’ve had any opportunity to address these particular issues with you before today, but at least take a pair of sensible shoes with you, and maybe something with a slightly longer skirt.”

“Mum, this is conservative compared to what some of the girls wear.”

“Yes, and that’s no reason to emulate them. Sarah, you’re in a unique position to know exactly how showing that much leg is going to affect your male friends. Is that really how you want them to see you?”

“Well, since I am a girl now, then yes I’d rather they saw me as a hot one.”

“Who – what’s the phrase you youngsters use? – who ‘puts out?’”

“The alternative is less appealing Mum. You’re right, I am in a unique position to know what my male friends think and say about the girls who turn up more conservatively dressed, and it’s generally not the sort of reputation I want. Besides, it’s too warm to wear anything longer.”

“Well, it’s your funeral.”

“You’re right, it is. I’ll take your advice and take something more sensible to change into in case it gets a bit much, but I kind of like this look, and if my friends are going to be weirded out by the change, then the sooner they come to terms with the new me, the better for us all.”

Cereal eaten, juice drunk, I nipped upstairs to grab a slightly longer summer dress and a pair of flats, then headed for the door.

“You do realise you won’t be able to use your student ID now?” Mum called after me.

I stuck my head back into the kitchen.

“What should I do?”

“I discussed this with your father yesterday. He doesn’t need the car until a little later today, so I’ll drive you in to the college and sort out any paperwork that needs dealing with. Just give me a couple more minutes to drink my tea.”

To be honest, I’d been dreading walking into the place on my own. Like Mum had said, it was going to be totally different, and I wasn’t even sure how much I’d be able to count on Nick. I mean he’d been cool about it in the end once we’d met and chatted, but peer pressure had an effect on everyone.

“Weren’t you going to take those trainers for Nick?” Mum asked.

I had said that. I hunted out the trainers I’d taken from my would-be assailant and dropped them in a carrier bag. Mum was ready by the time I had things sorted, so we headed out to the car.

“Sit and swivel,” Mum demonstrated, “keeping your legs together. Unless, of course, you want to give everyone a free peak. That’s the thing with short skirts, darling. You have to keep thinking about how not to show off your underwear.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Not entirely, no. I’m rather worried about keeping my daughter safe, especially since she doesn’t have access to all the wisdom I would have tried to teach her had she not been my son until a couple of days ago. But yes, alright. Maybe a little.”

#

The paperwork took a while since the receptionist couldn’t find the correct form for dealing with students spontaneously changing gender. Eventually the principal involved himself and I made it to my first class a half hour after it started. I handed my teacher the note the principal had given me then looked around for a seat.

“And you are?” the teacher asked, giving me a pointed stare and ignoring the note in his hand.

To be fair on him, none of the teachers would know about me yet.

“I’m Sarah, Mr Chomsky. I used to be Mitchel. The note explains it.”

My usual seat was empty, so I made my way over to it and sat down. The guy behind me dropped a pencil then bent down really low to pick it up before swivelling his neck around to look up at me from ground level. I held the hem of my skirt close to my legs and give him a fuck off, thin lipped smile.

“If you’re quite finished, Mr Myers,” Mr Chomsky said from the front, still looking a little bemused at my note.

The asshole behind me settled back into his seat, looking a little embarrassed. A number of the class kept glancing across at me. Actually, let’s face it, the whole class were doing it. Mr Chomsky made a couple of attempts at restarting the class, then gave up.

“Miss Geller, perhaps you’d come to the front and address the class. I doubt we’ll get much done otherwise.”

Rather nervously I made my way back to stand in front of everyone.

“Okay, so I’m sure you’ve all seen the photo doing the rounds of social media. Yes, I used to be Mitchel Geller. Yes, something happened to me on Saturday that turned me into this. No, I don’t know how it happened and no I’m not all that freaked out by it. It is what it is, which is pretty cool from my perspective. You all know me, and most of you remember me from school. I was never that good a fit as a guy, so I’m actually quite excited to see how this turns out.

“If it’s weird for you, imagine what it’s like for me. If it helps, imagine Mitchel left and I’m his cousin who came to take his place. I’d appreciate it if you just treated me like any other girl. Also, I’ll be happy to answer what questions you have at break. In the meantime, could we get back to, you know, maths and stuff?”

I went back to my seat.

“Thank you, Mitch – er, I mean Sarah. I imagine it’ll take a while to get used to the new you. In the meantime, back to maths, and, er, stuff.”

The rest of the class went by without a hitch, except this one girl, red headed and conservatively dressed, who kept looking across at me.

After the class she kind of sidled up to me on the way out.

“You’re that girl, aren’t you?”

“The one who used to be a boy?” I asked. “I guess so.”

“No, I, I mean, on... the computer. Last night. You’re you... I mean she’s her. No... I mean you’re she.”

She spoke in short, panicked gasps, until I put a hand on her shoulder. “Which one were you?” I asked.

“WikkaWannabe. I... went to get help. I know how some of those girls can be. They... gave me a big, hairy mole... Just here,” she pointed in the middle of her left cheek. “It took me nearly a week to figure out how to get rid of it.”

“How...”

“I did a reversal of affliction. It can make matters worse if you aren’t as powerful as the person who cast the original spell, but Lucifernal didn’t come into college for a month after.”

“Wait! Ubergoth comes here?”

“Yeah. She’s studying motorcycle mechanics, I think, so she doesn’t appear in public that often.

“Anyway, she and Satan666 kind of begrudgingly let me on the site. I mean it’s not theirs, but they sort of scared everyone away.

“Except... you, of course. And you shouldn’t have come on the site. How did you find it anyway? Do you know what they could have done to you? You don’t want to piss people like that off you know. Ooh, sorry. I said a bad word.”

“It’s alright, I won’t tell. I should thank you. You really save my arse back there.

“See, I can use bad words too, and it doesn’t do any harm.”

“Yes, well... Miss Ephemeris said if I saw you, I should bring you to see her.”

“Miss Ephemeris would be DateWithDestiny?”

“Yes, only you’re not to tell anyone. Can you meet me in the library at break?”

“Well, I don’t know. I was planning on going to the cafeteria and talk to anyone who wants to know more about what happened to me.”

“Yes... but... please.”

She was so earnest, it felt like kicking a puppy, especially with her soulful eyes.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll come. Where is the library again?’

“It’s...” she made as if to point.

“Just kidding. I have politics now.”

“Advanced calculus.” Hardly surprising, given her rep.

“So, I’ll see you after.”

I arrived at my next class just ahead of the bell. I offered my note to Mr Cox, who waved me into a seat. Apparently, the teacher’s grapevine had kicked in and he knew about my unusual circumstances. The same creep who’d tried looking up my skirt in maths was currently sitting behind my usual seat, so I looked around to find a girl pointing at the seat next to her.

Bigger than the surprise of a girl inviting me to sit by them was who the girl was. I walked over and sat in the indicated spot next to Clarissa.

“Where did you get those kick-ass shoes,” she whispered as I sat.

“Erm, they’re part of my dance training.”

“What dance training?”

“Erm, you remember the Irish dancing trials?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t see you there.”

“I looked a bit different, and yes you did. You were a little upset with me as I recall.”

“Oh my God. Mitchel?”

“It’s Sarah now.”

“I thought that was just a joke!”

“Miss Cooper? Miss Geller? Would you mind if we start the lesson anytime soon?”

“I’m sorry Mr Cox,” I said, just as Clarissa said, “Sure, whatever.”

“So what’s the deal?” she asked in a not very subtle stage whisper as soon as Mr Cox started talking.

I shook my head and shushed her just as our teacher turned his head our way.

“Anything you two would care to share with the class?” he asked.

“No sir,” I said. “Nothing that can’t wait till lunch.” I gave Clarissa a meaningful glare which had her rolling her eyes.

Mr Cox started again and Clarissa opened her mouth again. This time I pre-empted her by kicking her gently in the ankle.

“Ow!” she said, just a little louder than necessary.

Mr Cox looked our way. “One more disturbance and you’re out,” he said. “Both of you.”

“Yes sir.”

Once more the lesson started and once more Clarissa opened her mouth to speak. I glared at her threateningly until she subsided. I actually liked politics and the last thing I needed was a visit to the principal on my first day in public as a girl.

It didn’t last long. With Clarissa, to think it is to speak it, and it was actually something of a record that it took her ten minutes to think of something new, at which point she whispered it to me loud enough for everyone to here, “I suppose that skirt is part of your dance kit too.”

I couldn’t blame Mr Cox. He’d been more than patient, but I wished he’d taken the time to see exactly who was responsible for the interruptions.

“What a jerk!” Clarissa said at the top of her voice before the door closed behind us.

That wasn’t going to help us any.

We ended up waiting the rest of the lesson before Principal Piccolo made an appearance. He waved us through, at which point Clarissa complained that it wasn’t her fault, and that I’d come and sat next to her. The principal looked at me expectantly.

“I sat in my usual seat in maths and had boys trying to look up my skirt sir, so when Clarissa waved me over, I thought it would be better, except she kept talking, even when I tried shushing her. I was trying to listen to Mr Cox.”

“Let me see your notes then.”

I pulled them out and handed them over. There wasn’t that much, but then… “Mr Cox told us to leave after ten minutes, sir.”

“Miss Cooper?”

“Oh, I don’t take notes in class.”

“Because you remember everything your teacher tells you, which I assume means you’ll be able to tell me what Mr Cox was talking about in the ten minutes you were present in his lesson?”

Clarissa glowered at me, then snapped, “This isn’t fair. My father’s going to hear about this. All I wanted to know was what the hell is going on with her. Or is it him? I mean it’s not every day a guy turns into a girl, is it?”

Piccolo looked at me.

“I already told everyone I’d be pleased to tell them everything I know at break time, or lunchtime, since I think Miss Ephemeris wants a word with me now. I’m supposed to be meeting her in the library.”

“Then you’d better go. We’ll call this a verbal warning for you both. Do please try not to make a habit of this.”

“Of course sir. Thank you.”

Dismissed, I rushed off towards the library. Clarissa followed me out.

“Hey, wait up,” she called, then when I paused and turned her way, “What’s his problem, yeah?”

“Clarissa, I really appreciated you inviting me to sit with you today, and I’d be happy to talk to you about what’s been going on with me at lunch, but maybe we shouldn’t sit together in class again.”

“Hey, what did I do? You sat with me, remember.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to keep talking after class started, and I really didn’t expect you to keep talking after we’d been given our last warning.

“Never mind Principal Piccolo or Mr Cox, if you don’t see that you’re the one with the problem, then maybe we have one.”

“Well screw you. Just what is your problem?”

“I’m beginning to think you are.”

“Well, no more, loser. Serves me right for trying to be charitable to the world’s latest loser. Good luck making friends now.”

She stormed off. Well, somewhat ironically, that served me right. It would also most likely bite a chunk out of my newly cutified bottom since, apart from being self-centred, vain and vacuous in the extreme, Clarissa was also inexplicably popular. Good looks were as far as it needed to go with the lads, whereas well enough off to be able to spend obscene amounts of money on fashion probably swung it for a significant proportion of the female population.

Oh well, good thing I was used to being a pariah.

#

“Good of you to join us,” Miss Ephemeris greeted me as I made my entrance into the library. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“Sorry, I got waylaid.”

“I, er, was waylaid,” a familiar voice said from behind a stack of books. “You youngsters seem to be overly fond of the word ‘got’ when in all circumstances without exception, a better word is available.”

“Mr Giles! What brings you here?”

“A, a job, apparently, thanks to Miss Ephemeris here putting in a good word on my behalf. It, it, seems there is a particularly strong convergence of ley lines under the college – un-under the library in particular, and, er, the, er por-portal appears to be, er, latching on to it.

“It’s still loose for now, but like water circling a drain, it will almost certainly settle here in time.”

“And Principal Piccolo just happened to have an opening for ‘weird mystical shop owner who lurks in the library doing spooky stuff with old books?’”

“I, I would prefer eccentric to weird, but essentially correct. The job is more correctly entitled ‘librarian.’ The college was looking and Miss Ephemeris put me forward for the post.”

“She got you the job, huh?”

“She arranged for me to have an interview with the principal, yes. The rest I achieved on my own merits.

“It benefits us in a number of ways. Firstly, your parents won’t be able to object to your spending a little additional time in the library, so we should be able to resume your training during school hours. Secondly, I’ll be able to keep an eye on the portal’s movements and direct your attention for evening patrols. Thirdly, it will mean we’re both well placed when the portal eventually settles here.”

“And fourthly,” Miss Ephemeris said, “it’ll mean I can keep an eye on both of you and hopefully keep you from pissing off two of the most powerful witches in the neighbourhood.”

“Yes,” Stuart had his spectacles off and was polishing them, “your actions last night were somewhat reckless, albeit serendipitous at the same time.”

“Don’t encourage her, Stuart. What she did was irresponsible and stupid.”

“I’m assuming you’re talking about the website thing. Since when was browsing the internet ‘irresponsible and stupid?’”

“Since it involved messing with powers you haven’t come close to understanding, you silly little girl.”

“Hey, steady on. She wasn’t to know, and she did prevent those two from disrupting a delicate and dangerous spell.”

“You stay out of it. I’m still pretty pissed off with you for trying a stunt like that without calling in a little support.”

“Hey lady, don’t get your panties in a bunch!”

“Don’t, er... Alright, I’ll give you that one. But you can’t be too harsh on the girl. She was trying to be helpful...”

“And very nearly got herself disabled at a time when we desperately need her at her strongest, and don’t you dare correct my grammar.”

“Al-alright.”

“Geller, you stay out of the mystic web. Leave that sort of thing to people who know what they’re doing.”

“Not going to argue. Last night was a lesson I’m not going to forget.”

“Good. Laurel, perhaps you’d stay close in case these bumbling fool needs a techno-witch.”

“Er, ah, oh, sure, okay.”

“I’ll be down the hall in case you need me, and bloody well ask next time. This is why men and witchcraft don’t mix. A lot of it is too dangerous to do on your own, delicate male ego or not.”

“Did someone say witchcraft?” Nick demonstrating his knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Nick, what are you doing here?” I asked. “This is the library.”

“Oh, har very har. I was looking for you, and someone said they’d seen you come down here. Now, witchcraft?”

“Yes, it, it used to be quite prevalent in this region. Miss Ephemeris and I were hoping Sarah and Laurel might be able to, to help us research it.”

“I might be able to help. My grandmother used to be a witch.”

“Elspeth Brandon?” Miss Ephemeris asked.

“You knew her?”

“By reputation only. I was saddened to hear of her passing on. Okay, you can be in the Scooby Gang.”

“Really?” Stuart asked.

“Good pedigree. I think we can trust him.

“Break’s nearly over and I have a class to teach. Sarah, come find me in the gym at lunchtime for a little training. I’m sure it won’t be as good as Mr Giles here can provide, but let’s give him a day or two to settle in. All four of you, let’s meet here briefly after school.”

#

My last class of the morning was English composition, which has to be one of the easiest classes ever to teach.

“Okay class, I want an essay describing your thoughts on a new experience you’ve had. You have until the end of the lesson.”

Every head down scratching away industriously for the next hour while our teacher stared at his computer screen, quite possibly playing solitaire for all the effort he seemed to make.

He looked up from time to time, but didn’t seem that bothered about discipline, since every time he did, Clarissa seemed to be whispering to one of her neighbours, and every time he caught her doing so, she’d put on a bright-eyed look if innocence and ask, “What?”

The greatest difficulty I usually have in those classes is deciding what to write about. For once this didn’t apply and by the end of the lesson I’d written twice as much as anyone else, and my hands were cramping.

“On Becoming a Girl,” he read my title back to me when I handed him my efforts. “This was intended to be a real life event, Miss er...”

“Geller,” I told him. “Sarah. Used to be Mitchel. It is.”

He scrutinised me through half lidded eyes as though trying to figure out how I was trying to make fun of him. In the end he added it to the top of the pile.

“See what I mean? She flaunts it as though it was some sort of big deal. Honestly, it’s like she thinks she something super special now, just because she used to be a guy. And what’s that all about? I mean ew.”

Queen bee Clarissa was surrounded by drones – no, that’s not right. Drones were neutered males, I seemed to recall, and these were anything but. They fussed around her while she held court, nonetheless.

I thought my way through several carefully crafted retorts before deciding she wasn’t worth any of them.

Besides, I needed to get some lunch in me before going to see Miss Ephemeris.

Which didn’t prove to be that easy since half the school population had been waiting for a chance to ask their questions.

Not that they were all that varied. Most of the guys either wanted to ask me out or to give my new body a test ride, neither of which prospect I found particularly appealing, and I have to admit my patience wore thin after the dozenth or so time I was asked the same question.

“The girls’ questions took a little more answering but were nearly as repetitive. “Why had I done it?” I hadn’t done it. I’d had it done to me, but I was okay with it. “Did I prefer being a girl?” I did, but then who wouldn’t. Yeah, a lot of the guys wouldn’t, but I wasn’t talking to them. “What did I like most about being a girl?” Everything – so far, I mean. I mean how can you choose? “Did I miss anything about being a guy?” No, not really. Significantly more gained than lost in the transaction.

It took me fifteen minutes to eat half my chicken salad. Maybe that was something I missed – the carbs.

Anyway, I tossed what I hadn’t eaten and headed off to the gym where Miss Ephemeris waited for me impatiently, complete with foot tapping.

I won a few brownie points by tapping my own feet to her rhythm and breaking into a complex counter pointing dance, all improvised.

A few girls who’d been slow changing after their lesson appeared as I warmed up and extended my routine to include more dynamic moves, becoming more athletic and more martial in nature. One or two of my audience disappeared briefly, returning minutes later with a larger audience.

Miss Ephemeris picked out the Irish Dance squad members and had them change while I continued. When they reappeared, she waved me to a stop and had them line up.

A week’s drilling had improved them no end. Their footfalls were a lot more synchronised than I remembered from the try outs, and they included some more complex moves, maintaining their line formation whilst wheeling about on the stage.

After their first time through on the sequence, Miss Ephemeris invited me to join in again, and this time I weaved my dance in and out around theirs, including a few jumps that had me spinning over their heads low enough to make some of them duck and squeal. The routine lasted a further twenty minutes, with the lineup repeating their sequence several times over.

Miss Ephemeris drew things to a close and sent the girls off to shower and change. For all my exertions, I hadn’t broken sweat, so I didn’t need to join them. I only had the summer dress Mum had persuaded me to bring as a change of clothing, and I didn’t really feel like putting it on.

“You’ve improved,” the dance teacher said.

“More flexible body,” I said, “plus smaller and lighter with maybe stronger legs. And better sense of coordination.”

“Better off as a girl then?”

“I suppose so. My temperament’s different too. I feel kind of exhilarated while I’m moving, but not over the top trying to show off or feeling overwhelmed with rage.”

She nodded. “I can see why you were chosen, and why you were changed. Do you mind the alterations?”

“No, except for having to keep answering questions like that.”

She smiled. “Sorry. It’s a natural thing to ask though.”

“I suppose.”

“This is where your strength lies, Sarah. I know you were only trying to help last night, but stick to what you do best and leave things like that to those of us who are gifted in the mystical arts.”

“Yeah, I think I said earlier. Lesson learned on that score. I understand Lucifernal comes here.”

“Yes. Amy Allen. She’s usually too busy trying to persuade the guys in the machine shop she’s a better mechanic than them. I have a feeling she’s using magic to help her with that, but I can’t prove anything yet.”

“What if she recognises me?”

“She won’t.”

“How come?”

“I used a little concealment charm. Every time she sees you, she’ll think she’s looking at someone a lot more plain and forgettable.”

“Oh. Thanks, I suppose. How long will that last?”

“Long enough for her to forget she ever had an issue with you. She’s probably half way to forgetting her little encounter with you last night already.”

“Alright. Anyway, lesson learned no more looking for creepy websites for me. Not even Terry Richardson.”

“How do you know about his stuff.”

“Media studies.”

“Fair enough”

“Speaking of which, I have a double.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in the library afterwards.”

“Sure, only...”

“What?”

“Between you and Stuart, which of you is in charge?”

She smiled. “Let’s let him believe he is, shall we? It’ll probably be easier.”

#

Media studies wasn’t the doss subject we’d all thought it would be. It covered a lot of psychology and social science, looking at how different kinds of media impacted the world. I’d taken it as an easy to extra but had since found it to be more interesting than any of my other subjects. Clarissa had definitely taken it as an easy option and sat at the back of the class, doing her faux whisper thing, which was annoyingly distracting, but not enough to upset the teacher.

We were looking at social media right now, which really had me interested, so I was more than a little annoyed when Laurel burst into the room halfway through the lesson.

“I, I’m sorry,” she said, looking like she wanted to find a hole to crawl into, “but I’ve been asked to fetch Sarah Geller.”

All eyes swivelled in my direction. Miss Vander made a sweeping motion with her arm, indicating I should go, so I grabbed my books and followed Laurel out into the corridor, some snide, semi-whispered comment from Clarissa following me out.

As soon as we were in the clear I gave Laurel a look.

“I-it’s Giles, I mean Mr Giles. He says the portal snapped across to the basement and he thinks something got through.”

“Did he say what?”

“He didn’t seem to know what, just that you should go have a look.”

We’d stopped short of the library near a door that said Authorised Personnel Only. Laurel opened the door and ushered me through. I held out my books for her, then unsheathed my heels, carrying the sheaths with me down into the darkness.

The basement was lit by a series of those pathetic bulbs that seem to suck what light there is out of the room. I made my way down pipe lined corridors, relying more on my secondary senses than sight.

I smelt them first. I hadn’t registered the smell before, but they had a faint sickly-sweet odour to them. Their movements were quiet, but not quite silent, which meant I got the drop on the first one – sorry Giles, had the drop on the first one. I sunk my heel into his chest up to the sole of my shoe, then levered myself into a spinning somersault as a second vampire charged in, brushing my arm just as it collided with one of the pieces of ducting

Arms by your sides, I admonished myself as my feet entered a mind numbingly confused tap routine.

Two more newcomers paused, mesmerised by my footwork before a spinning jump slashed my heel blades across both their necks, severing them enough to turn them to dust.

Meanwhile the stunned character behind me recovered enough to grab me into a bear hug. I could sense his fangs descending on my neck as I brought my feet up and stabbed with both of them into his crotch.

Not a killing blow, but enough to make him let go of me and double up over his injury. I pulled my feet free quickly enough to twist and land facing him. I brought my left knee up into his face, then lashed out with my right foot as he staggered back, catching him in the chest and turning him to dust.

A familiar subsonic growl reached me from the darkness. Greshnik, but it had to be smaller if it was going to fit down here. I felt it charge at me rather than saw it, and dived between its legs, landing on outstretched arms and springing backwards into that weak spot at the base of its spine. It roared in pain, but only briefly as I withdrew my heels and brought them down again between its shoulder blades, turning it into yet more choking dust.

“What’s going on down there?” Principal Piccolo’s voice sounded from the top of the stairs. This wasn’t going to go well.

I put my weapons away, treading hard on each heel to click it into place, then stepped gingerly into the light.

“Miss Geller. When a new student appears within my sphere of influence not once but twice on their first day, that doesn’t bode very well.”

“No sir, only this isn’t my first day.”

“So you say. The thing is, I don’t know what you and your parents are trying to achieve – assuming they are your parents of course – but you must think me naive in the extreme if you think for one second, I’m going to believe you used to be Mitchel Geller.”

“I don’t know how to respond to that sir.”

“Well, perhaps instead you could tell me what you’re doing in the school basement, Miss Geller.”

“Er, well...” what could be corroborated? “Er, Laurel came to fetch me from Miss Vander’s class. I understand Mr Giles was asking for me.”

Mr Piccolo looked behind him at Laurel, who looked more nervous and upset than anybody with a clear conscience ought to be. She nodded timidly.

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re down there and not in, say the library?”

“Yes, well, I thought I heard something down here.”

“So instead of seeking out help, you thought you’d, what, open the door that says... You can see what it says on the door, Miss Geller?”

“Yes sir, but...”

“But nothing Miss Geller. What were you thinking?”

“I don’t know that I was, sir.”

“Damn right you weren’t. Tell me Miss Geller, what did you find down there?”

“Er, just a lot of dust, sir.” Well, that’s all that was down here now.

“One of the teachers said she thought she heard someone or something cry out in pain.”

“Yes, er some of the pipes down here are rather hot. I, er, touched one by accident.” There was a hot pipe next to me. I put a hand on it and managed not to react to the pain. Not too much, but I’d need some evidence to support my words.

“Perhaps you understand why it says on the door, ‘Authorised personnel only.’”

“Yes sir.”

“Are you authorised personnel, Miss Geller?”

“No sir.”

“Then perhaps you’d like to come up and let me have a look at your injury.”

I did so, showing him my self-inflicted blisters.

“Right, perhaps we’d better let the nurse have a look at this. Miss Pinkstone, would you head over to the library and tell Mr Giles that Miss Geller is with me and that I’d very much like for him to join me in my office at his earliest convenience.”

“Yes sir,” Laurel said, jumping at the chance to run away.

“And where are you supposed to be at present?”

“Er, study period, sir.”

“Hence why you were in the library. Very well, I suggest you get back to your studying then.”

“Yes sir.” She vanished down the corridor while I followed the principal to the nurse’s station.

She examined my hand. “Hmm, just a little redness to the skin. Here,” she soaked a cloth under the tap for a moment and wrung the excess water off it, “hold this for a while.”

I did so, lifting the cloth to look at my hand. There had been blisters there a moment ago.

“Don’t fiddle with it. When your hand stops hurting you can drop it in the sink.”

It had already stopped hurting, but from her comment it probably shouldn’t have just yet.

She opened a book a picked up a pen. “Right, tell me what happened.”

“I went down into the boiler room, I think. I touched a hot pipe by accident.”

“Were there warning signs on the door?”

I told her what it had said.

“Yet you went in anyway. You realise the college isn’t liable for injuries sustained when you disregard the warning signs.”

“Yes.”

“So, learn from this. You were lucky. That could have been a lot worse.” She lifted the damp cloth to reveal healthy skin beneath. “How does it feel now.”

“Better, thanks. I mean good. No pain.” I flexed my fingers to demonstrate.

“Fine, you can go. I think the principal wants you in his office though.” She nodded at the open door.

Mr Piccolo nodded at an empty chair so I sat. He was busy writing something, so I didn’t interrupt. After a few minutes Mr Giles appeared in the doorway. He gave me a worried look to which I returned a shrug.

“Mr Giles,” Principal Piccolo said without looking up. “Your first day too, I believe.”

“Er ye... we... erm, yes, yes it is.”

“Perhaps you’d care to explain why you asked Miss Pinkstone to fetch Miss Geller here from class?”

“Miss, er p, p, p...?”

“Pinkstone. Laurel.”

“Oh, er Laurel. Er, yes, Laurel.”

The principal looked up. There wasn’t a great deal of patience there.

“Oh, yes, yes, I see. Yes, er, I, er. It was a dance competition. Yes, that’s what it was.”

Way to be convincing, Stuart. I kept my face neutral, but I was cringing inside.

“A dance competition?”

“Yes, yes. A friend called me about it. The, the, er deadline for applications was three o’clock this afternoon, otherwise I wouldn’t have dreamed of interrupting Sarah’s, er Miss Geller’s, lesson. I was hoping she could call her parents and get,” what was it you said about that word, Stuart? “verbal permission. It’s er, it’s too late now, of course.”

“You thought it appropriate to interrupt a class because of a dancing competition?”

“A rare and exceptional opportunity, I, I assure you. Miss Geller has a remarkable talent. You must have heard about Miss Ephemeris’s trials last week?”

“I heard something, yes. That was Mitchel though, wasn’t it?”

“Yes but...”

I shook my head gently.

“Yes, but Sarah is better. It would be a travesty to waste a talent like hers.”

The principal looked my way and cocked an eyebrow.

It took a moment. “You want me to show you? Here? And now?”

“Is there a reason why not?”

“No music, and soft carpets. Not ideal conditions. We could go to the gym.”

“Where I believe Miss Ephemeris is teaching a class. However, perhaps you could demonstrate. A sort of masterclass if you’re as good as Mr Giles thinks.”

“Alright.” I stood up.

“Your hand not going to be a distraction?”

“No. Nurse made it all better.” I showed him my hand, quickly so he didn’t have time to wonder where the blisters had gone.

Miss Ephemeris was taking a class through some contemporary dance moves.

“Miss Geller. Didn’t we already do our thing for the day?”

“Yes, but Principal Piccolo wanted a demonstration, if that’s alright.”

“I should think so. Alright class get comfortable against that wall. Same as earlier, Sarah?”

I looked at Stuart who leaned in and whispered something in the dance teacher’s ear.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

He nodded and said to me, “You’ll have a couple of bars to settle into the rhythm, then things’ll get, er, busy.”

I was going to have fun with him over the g word later, but for now. I settled into my usual feet in fourth position, arms by my side.

The music started, and as usual it flowed into me and out through my limbs. Two bars of simple timing then it launched into the most complex beat I’d heard, rapid and wild like a North Sea storm. Somehow my body pre-empted what was coming and I allowed the music to lead me into a wild cavort through the maelstrom of untamed music. There were times when it invited me into giant leaping, twisting somersaults, high kicks, manoeuvres I didn’t even have words to describe. It lasted five frantic minutes and left me sucking in a half dozen deep breaths at the end as I settled back into my original starting position.

Principal Piccolo and the entire class stood or sat mouths gaping. Even Miss Ephemeris looked shocked. I was grinning wildly with delight over at Mr Giles who wore a tight smile of supreme satisfaction.