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The morning after the Autumn Festival, Velma found herself sitting on the floor of Thorn’s bedroom. It was noon and Velma realized Thorn must have still been sleeping when she had appeared at her front door. Thorn had a large mug of tea cooling on her bedside table as she shuffled around her bedroom putting on clothes that weren’t her pajamas. Velma looked away to be polite, eyeing the heavy satchel of books she had brought with her instead, and looking around at Thorn’s room. The walls were electric purple and covered in magazine cutouts. A ratty-looking stuffed cow sat on the bed, half tucked under the pillow. Back home, Velma would have never had the guts to befriend a cool girl like Thorn. But stranger things had happened–even on this trip!
Thorn sighed, grabbed her mug and dropped down on the metal seat at her vanity. “Thanks for coming over,” she said.
“Are you kidding?” Velma pulled the satchel into her lap. “I never want to see these lousy books again.”
“Yeah, me neither.” Thorn put her tea down and went over to her squat little bookshelf, double stacked with Ben Ravencroft novels. She picked up three paperbacks with one hand and tossed them over her shoulder. Velma moved out of the way until there was a good little pile in the center of the room. Thorn stood up and looked at the books, ratty with numerous readings, covers bent in half, spines so cracked and white you couldn’t see the titles anymore, the metallic titles across the front dulled from hands that gripped tightly at them in the middle of the night.
Velma’s copies looked just about the same as she upended her satchel and added her collection to the pile. She had brought the books along so that Ben could sign them, and so if she had a chance, she could talk to him more about his craft. As it turned out, the only craft he was interested in was witchcraft. Now Velma couldn’t even stand to look at them.
Velma tossed her satchel aside and stood by Thorn. “So what do we do now?”
Thorn picked her mug back up and took a drink. She handed it to Velma to hold while she moved over to a little wooden cupboard in her closet. Velma’s nose filled with the scent of licorice and mint. “We’re going to do some magic,” Thorn said, crouching at her cupboard and scanning the labels of the jars contained therein. “Here we go.”
Velma took a sip from Thorn’s mug which earned her a look. Not an annoyed look, but something that made Velma blush all the same. Thorn smiled a little and showed her the jar.
“‘Get Thee Gone powder’?” Velma asked, reading the label.
“Just a little mixture of basil, salt, and vervain,” Thorn said, unscrewing the lid. “It’s a banishing spell. Once we neutralize the bad energy, we can take the whole thing to the dump.”
Velma put the mug down and held out her cupped hands for Thorn to pour out some of the powder. When Thorn had done the same, she said, “Okay, now I’m going to sprinkle a pentagram and when I’m done, you can go around and sprinkle a circle around the whole thing. Clockwise, of course.”
Of course? Velma had never done anything like this. After the previous night, defeating Sarah Ravencroft, this all seemed kind of mundane. Still, Thorn was a Wiccan and knew what she was talking about. And if it helped the two of them feel a little less sad about Ben Ravencroft turning out to be a total jerk, then Velma was here for it. She watched Thorn make the pentagram, which turned out just to be the star she’d seen other Wiccans wearing. When it was her turn, Velma took a long breath and made her way slowly around the books.
“With this spell, we banish all memory of Ben Ravencroft and his stories from our minds!” Thorn said in a low voice, drawing out her words to let them linger in the air. She was holding her hands over the books. “He is a worm and he and his works will fade into obscurity.” She looked over at Velma expectantly.
Velma hesitated before holding her own hands out. “I’m just disappointed and I want to get over it as fast as possible,” she said, quickly. “There’s always other books.”
Thorn nodded. “Now let’s get some trash bags.”
After they had collected everything, they hoisted the bags over their shoulders and Velma followed Thorn over to the dumpsters behind the high school. Once the bags were over the edge of the dumpsters and out of sight, Velma was surprised to find that her hand had found Thorn’s. Already, she could feel the heavy feeling in her stomach dissipating.
Thorn seemed to have noticed it too. She tightened her hand around Velma’s. “C’mon, the girls and I are having a post-concert breakfast at Jack’s. You need to try his maple waffles.”