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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Putting It Off at the Putt-Putt"  You email Sydney to tell her that you can't meet that night, and that you'll have to talk after you do some thinking. * * * * * What a weird thing it is being a ninth-grade girl. That's what you find yourself thinking the next day as you do your homework. It's Sunday morning—not the usual time or day for doing homework, but you need something to distract you. It's not working. Algebra is an easy subject for Shelly, and you still remember how to do it, so your brain has plenty of energy left over to flutter and flitter distractedly as you are solving for x's and y's. You remember being in the ninth grade pretty well. It was at Westside, with the same bunch of creeps and assholes, just with different teachers, so "remembering" your freshman year is like "remembering" yesterday. And in a lot of ways "being Shelly" isn't so different from being your old self. She doesn't like boys, and she's into fantastical stories and movies and TV shows, and she's no good at sports and would rather hang out with good friends instead of making herself silly at parties. If only she didn't worry so much about what her friends think. Take that conversation with Caitlyn yesterday. She couldn't hardly believe that you weren't into Austin Ritter, or that you were really lukewarm about that party. You need to grow up, Shelly, she fussed at you. The Harry Potter stuff? It's cute when you're a kid. But you don't want to be the "nerd girl" at school. The guys'll think you're weird! And you almost burst into tears. That would be the number one reason for letting Sydney take over Shelly's mask. Sydney could steer Shelly toward a more "normal" kind of high school career, and you as her boyfriend could be the guy she steers toward. But that would be wrong for Shelly. Totally out of character. And though it's weird being a freshman girl— Like, every once in awhile you forget who you're supposed to be, and suddenly you are totally weirded out by having this small, bony, dickless body with long hair and tiny hands ... bundled up in warm sweaters and skinny jeans ... hiding out in this dilapidated old farm house on the edge of a swamp ... But though it's weird being a freshman girl, Shelly is also weirdly comfortable, just because she is kind of a weird girl. She's just the kind of girl you probably should have or could have hung out with in the ninth grade, since she's not interested as boys as boys and could talk to you about silly movies. Which, still, isn't exactly a reason for why it should be you to hang onto her mask instead of passing it along to Sydney, as you originally planned. But every time you stretch your hand to your phone, to email Sydney about setting up a new time to make the hand-off, you pull back. * * * * * "Hey, Shelly-bean!" The tow-headed boy plops down heavily into the bus seat beside you. "Missed you on Friday. What happened?" It's Monday morning, and the school bus is grinding its way slowly through the country lanes south of town, collecting farm boys and farm girls. Ian Cowdray is one of the former. He's a freshman, like you, and has known Shelly since early middle school. He's short and brown, with whitish-blonde hair buzzed close to his scalp, and he dresses every day in a white t-shirt, light khakis, and Converse sneakers. But despite his clean, well-scrubbed look, he can't seem to shake the slight whiff of manure that follows him in from the cow sheds. "I missed the bus on account of my teacher kept me late," you tell him. You flinch a little as the bus bounces, and Ian's shoulder bumps into yours. "Oh, jeez! You didn't get in trouble, did you?" "No, I just had to pick up a— Oh, crap!" You slap yourself in the forehead. "I totally forgot to do that extra credit assignment! The one that Ms. Cho kept me after to give to me!" You twist in your seat, looking out the window. But the bus isn't going to driving back anywhere near your house, so there's no chance to stop and run in and get it now. "Oh!" you cry. "That sucks," Ian says. He rubs his pug nose. "But it's extra credit?" He blinks when you nod. "Do you need the extra credit? How's your grades?" "My grades are fine—" "Then it's no biggie, right?" "I wanted to do it anyway," you shout at him. "Chill the fuck out," someone growls from the seat behind you. You turn around to glare. It's one of the seniors, tapping on his phone with a scowl as the bus rocks back and forth down the rocky country lane. "Hey!" Ian barks at him. "Why don't you chill the fuck out?" "Ian!" you squeal. "You wanna mess with me, little man?" the senior growls. "I'll fuck you up if you—!" The senior leans forward to shove Ian. Ian punches him back. * * * * * "And the bus driver had to stop and come back to separate them!" you conclude with a gasp. "It was so embarrassing! You're huddling outside the school, at the corner of the drama wing, with Caitlyn and Helen Kim and Maya Stroud. Maya isn't one of your friends, but she was hanging out with Caitlyn for some reason, and so she was standing there, wearing an amused smirk, as you told of the fight on the school bus. Caitlyn also seems to think the story was funny. "Ian's got such a crush on you!" she giggles. "He does not!" "Oh, he totally does! He got in a fight with— Who was it?" "I don't know! One of the seniors!" "How'd he make out?" Maya asks. "I mean, did he kick the guy's ass? Or did he get—?" "I didn't see!" "Was he bleeding?" "I didn't see!" Maya's smirk deepens. "Do you have a crush on him?" You glare daggers at her. Maya ought to be someone you (Shelly) like or could hang out with. She's also "weird" in the way she doesn't seem obviously interested in boys, and the way she dresses—typically in denim coveralls over cheap t-shirts—suggests she doesn't give a fig about looking or acting "cool" or "popular." But she takes it to a whole "don't give a rat's ass" level that Shelly finds intimidating. And when she says, "I'd blow any guy who tried beating up a senior who sass-talked me" you feel you have to reassess that "not interested in boys" intuition. "Well, maybe I'll set you up with him!" you snarl. "Is he cute?" Maya asks. There's an awkward silence, until Caitlyn says, "Eh." Which infuriates you for reasons you don't understand. "I'm going to class!" you snarl, and wheel to stomp off. "If you wanna know if Ian was bleeding or anything," you yell over your shoulder, "you can go find him yourself!" * * * * * But—dragged by Shelly's own sense of guilt—you go looking for Ian between first and second periods at his locker. He has a very hurt but proud expression on his face, and there's a bad bruise on his cheek. He can barely bring himself to look at you, you notice, even after you step in close to talk to him. "Listen," you tell him, "I'm sorry I ran off that way after the bus got to school. And I should have—" You twist on your feet. "It was, um— Really noble of you to, uh—" He continues to ignore you as he changes out his books from bag to locker. "And it was sweet of you," you stammer. "Only, you shouldn't have— Did you get in trouble?" Ian shrugs. "I didn't want you to do something like that for me, Ian!" "I wanted to do it for you," he replies, very stiffly. "You could'a got hurt! You did get hurt!" "Do you care?" Not until after you've hesitated too long over an answer does he look at you. "No, I— I don't want you to get hurt!" you repeat. "So yeah, I guess I do care. But you know," you hastily add—you feel yourself twisting into knots to keep him from thinking you are actually sweet on him—"I care about everyone! About them not getting hurt!" "Well, I guess I didn't get hurt that bad," Ian says gruffly, and slams his locker. He walks away without saying anything else. * * * * * "Okay, if you're going to be Shelly, who am I going to be?" Mr. Hagerman asks. It's after school, and you're shut up inside Ms. Cho's classroom. You only have a minute or two to spare for this conference before you will have to run for the bus. You find you don't have an obvious answer. Sydney was talking about setting up a "boyfriend-girlfriend" thing down in the freshman class. The hell of it is that, if you do that, Ian would be the most obvious choice. He has a crush on Shelly, and after the fight on the bus it wouldn't actually look unnatural if she melted a little around him. You'd be more comfortable, though, if Sydney just replaced one of Shelly's friends. Caitlyn, perhaps. On the other hand, though, maybe you could start to work Shelly out of her shell, and gave her a better social standing, if you put Sydney in for one of the popular guys. Austin Ritter, maybe? Maybe he couldn't be her boyfriend right away. But maybe later on? Next year? Or maybe the moral is that Shelly is too weird to be partnered with someone at school. Niamh Stirland lives nearby, and Shelly could hang out with her more without it looking strange. Or maybe you should pick Shelly's cousin, Brandon. Again, it would be a natural fit. And Sydney would probably get a real kick out of converting such a prissy church boy into a devil worshipper. That's all for now. |
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