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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Jack and Will"  "The girls are gonna want to go to Starbucks," you tell Will. "But how about you come find us when you're feeling awake." "Okay," he grunts. "Your mom and dad gonna be okay with—?" Then he raises up and frowns at you. "Are they going to be okay with what?" you prompt him. A couple of different colors swirl into his face. "Shit," he says. "What's wrong?" He scrubs his face, then gives you a hard stare. "No," he says, "they're my mom and dad." "I didn't say they weren't." "And that's my workout you're going to." "You can come along if you want." He glares, then mutters, "I'm not in shape. But— Fuck." He sits up and buries his face in his knees. You give him a minute, then ask, "Are you, uh, remembering stuff you couldn't remember yesterday?" "Yes. Oh, Jesus." His face is streaked with red when he lifts it again, and he has a ghastly look to him. "But I know who I am." "So do I," you tell him. You pluck at your shirt. "I'm just, uh, trying to keep your place warm until we find Chelsea and get things sorted out again." "That's fine," he says. "That's good." He throws off the covers. "I'll get ready, get out of here." "You coming with me?" He shakes his head. "I'll go back to, uh, your place, make sure your mom and dad are okay with me being out with, uh, Caleb all night." He looks like he's going to be ill. "I'll catch up with you at Starbucks." "We could make it Don's Donuts. See Keith." He shivers all over. "No," he says. "Let's keep the weirdness to a minimum." * * * * * You're packing up the sleeping bag when Mrs. Li comes in. She asks if Will is going to spend another night with you, and you tell her that he'll be going home as soon as he gets cleaned up. You wait for him, then drive off in separate vehicles to separate destinations. It's a few minutes to seven when you get out to Steel's 24-Hour Gym, on the other side of town. Parker and the girls have already signed in and are waiting in the aerobics room with the other early birds. The four of you are far and away the youngest in the Saturday class—the rest are women in their late thirties to early fifties—and as usual the other class members are clustered up around Parker and Kristina and Wendy. You get a cheerful greeting as well, for you are all like their pets. But it's only a minute or two before Amanda Taylor, the instructor, calls things to order and starts the music for the warm ups and then the routines. You're pleasantly breathless and warm all over when the class ends some forty-five minutes later. The girls go off to take a swim, while you and Parker move on to the weights. It's leg day for you both, and you work out on side-by-side stair masters. Jack and Parker have done everything together since they were in elementary school, when they became fast friends over a shared passion for Star Wars. That particular enthusiasm faded, but the bond remained strong, and they took as many classes together as they could. Parker was the one who trailed after Jack, though. They both did well enough academically that they could share most of the same classes, but it was Jack who eagerly signed up for gymnastics, aerobics, and dance classes, which Parker joined with less enthusiasm. In fact, Jack has wondered lately if Parker would have dropped out of those classes if they hadn't made friends with Kristina and Wendy at Westside their freshman year. The two girls, who look enough alike to be cousins, immediately connected with the guys, and the four have been inseparable for the past few years. But it wasn't until last summer that Jack started to wonder if Parker felt more strongly about the girls than he did, and in a different way. For Jack, they were just friends, like so many other girls at the school, who he could hang out with and share confidences. That's the way Parker seemed to act around them too, and when Leah and some of the other girls started asking if Parker was interested in Kristina or in Wendy, Jack laughed and said he didn't think so. "I mean, he's not gay," he assured them, "but I think he's just friends with them. Like he's friends with me." That equation—"friends with them like he's friends with me"—began to warp in unpleasant ways, though, when their junior year ended. Before, when Jack and Parker showered together after a workout, it had been without a thought. But now—like, this morning, when you follow him into the changing room and the showers—you feel more of an edge. It's like an assertion that there's nothing uncomfortable about it. * * * * * It's after nine when you and Parker—fresh and scrubbed and changed into clean clothes—sign out of the gym and walk a block up the street to Starbucks, where the girls are already waiting. So is Will. He is slouching at a table in the corner, and you call out to invite him over. He shuffles over with his coffee and cell phone. "We got these mixed up last night," he says as he hands it to you. "I got yours and I think you picked up mine." "I was wondering how come I wasn't getting any texts," you reply as you dig into the workout bag, and swap phones with him. "Did I get any?" "Lots, but I didn't know your password," he lies. You grin. "I'd'a trusted you anyway." You've been trying to ignore the frowns of curiosity you're getting from Wendy and Kristina, so you come clean. "I hung out with Will last night," you confess. "We had some stuff to talk about." After collecting your orders, your quintet squeezes around a four-top. Conversation is light and flippant, and Will asks the girls semi-personal questions that he pretends he doesn't know the answers to while you discreetly catch up on the messages that came in while you were working out. You haven't been at Starbucks long when you're joined by a surprise guest: Laura MacGregor. Six people can't fit comfortably around a four-top, so you all pick up your stuff and move to a different table. "I want to sit between my two favorite guys," Laura gushes as she settles between you and Will. She gets very keen and inquisitive when it comes out that you skipped going to the Warehouse in order to hang out with him, but with a cool smile you tell her it's none of her business why you got together. With one exception, everyone is relaxed, and you relax with them. But Will, you notice, seems antsy and impatient, and when he gets up to fetch some more sugar, you excuse yourself to the restroom. As you'd hoped, he follows you in. "Jesus," he mutters as he washes his hands in the sink next to you. "Can we please hurry up and get out of here?" "Is it freaking you out?" "Isn't it freaking you out?" "I'm doing okay." You straighten up and study your hair, twitching a stray lock back into place. "You're doing okay, too. Seems to me, your only problem is that you're acting too much in character." "Like how?" he demands. You twist your face into an exaggerated scowl, and squirm on your feet. "Chill out," you tell him. "We're doing fine." "I want to go find Chelsea!" "We will. I'll cut things short. Let's just not leave together." "Why not?" His eyes narrow. You give him a steady look, the kind that Jack gives people when he thinks they're making some veiled reference to his sexuality. "Because," you remind him, "you're not exactly popular with the crowd. All that bullshit about Elle and Leah and Laura—" "That wasn't bullshit!" "I'm glad you see that now. If you're remembering everything else, maybe you're remembering those nights with Elle, and Laura, and what happened—" "Yes! Jesus, your life has been weird!" he pants. "Even before—!" "Tell me about it." You go back to studying your reflection, and straighten out some of the lines in your shirt. "I'm sorry you're all mixed up with it now," you tell him, "but it wasn't my idea. Anyway, as for us going separate, just remember what you were thinking about me yesterday, and remember that that's what they're thinking of you out there now." Will makes a face. "We'll meet up at Westside," you tell him. "You can take off first." Will sighs like a buffalo, and stalks from the bathroom. * * * * * To your relief there's no gossip about him after he's left, and after ten minutes or so you make your own excuses and rise to leave. You're caught outside, though, by a shout. It's Laura, and she comes running up to join you. "Need a ride back to pick up your car?" she asks. "Can I give you a ride anyway?" she asks when you decline. She seems very nervous after you've climbed into her car, and she fiddles with her seat, and the heater, and the radio, and a couple of other buttons before putting the car in motion. "Can you tell me what you and Will talked about last night?" she finally asks. "Nothing to do with you." "You're so diplomatic," she whines. "I wish it was to do with me." "What? How come?" She doesn't answer until she's pulled into the gym parking lot. "I want to talk to you about him. About him and me." Next: "Laura Comes Clean" |
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