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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Corkscrew Confession"  Marc has to go to class, which leaves you with Jessica for the lunch hour. (You don't feel like facing Lin or anyone else, so you tell her it's going to be just the two of you or she can fuck off.) You insist that you have no idea what the hell is going on with you and Gary Chen, and that you sure as hell don't know why he's battering Martin Gardinhire around, since it sounds like he's got a couple of reasons for doing so. "I'll talk to him," you announce, and you're about to send him a text when you remember that you're supposed to meet him in the parking lot after school anyway. Sixth period is fraught. You share AP Statistics with Chen, so you give him a long look when he comes in, but he ignores it, except to lurch slightly as he passes your desk to brush your shoulder with his elbow. Kirkham is in there too, and he smirks knowingly at Chen's move. Gardinhire is also in there, and he makes a point of taking a desk on the opposite side of the room. As for Marc (yet another of the dramatis personae), he pauses in the doorway before entering with a sigh. Chen holds his hand up for a high-five, but Marc ignores him and slouches into3 his own desk. Then there's Paul Davis, the guy who has the huge crush on Yumi. He slinks inside and huddles up in his desk and shoots your reproachful looks all during class. Everyone ignores you during seventh-period Speech class, which is a mercy when it comes to Deanna Showalter—you've been dreading having to talk to that shameless gossip about what's going on—but less enjoyable when it's Rachel Burton giving you the cold shoulder. Kim Walsh looks for awhile like she's trying to figure out how to approach you, but she apparently gives up and leaves class without giving you one word. Then there's Orchestra, where you're stuck sitting between Eva and Chen. Eva says nothing to you when she sits down and takes out her viola, but at least she doesn't glower at you. But then Chen comes in, and a minute after he's squatted casually in his seat, Eva reaches behind you to poke him with the tip of her bow. "What's the deal between you and my brother?" she asks. "I got 'im his job back," Chen replies. He looks right past you in giving this reply. "It was bullshit, them making him quit as team captain. That wasn't his shit they found in his locker. You know that." "So who put it there?" "Gardinhire." Now Chen does glance at you. "You know that, or did you unsubscribe to your news feeds?" "He didn't put that crap in my locker or Jessica's!" Chen only shrugs. "All I know is he told me he put it in Marc's. Maybe he had a friend put it in yours. I didn't ask 'cos, tee-bee-aitch, I don't give a shit who put it there." Eva wheels around and settles in to tuning her viola with a hard scowl. That's all that gets said during class, and you make your own solitary journey to your locker before going out to the parking lot. You loiter almost fifteen minutes by Chen's Jeep before he appears; there's a strong stench of cigarette smoke on him. "So, babe, you gonna yell at me?" he asks as he swaggers up. "I don't know what I'm going to do. I really wish you'd explain to me what you're doing and what's going on." "Sure thing. Climb in. This way." He touches your elbow and guides you up and through the driver's side door, and you pull at your skirt to keep from flashing your panties as you clamber over the gearshift. A soft chortling from behind tells you that's the reason he wanted you going in that way. But once he's inside and has the door closed, his whole manner changes. He covers his face and giggles, and his voice goes up an octave. "Omigawd, wasn't Eva just too too precious in Orchestra?" He hiccups with suppressed laughter. "It was all I could do to keep from losing it! I think I did pretty good, though. Tee-bee-aitch, I don't give a shit about who put that stuff in your locker!" He shrieks with laughter. "You were really in character," you admit. "Thanks! Except I wasn't. If I was—" He grabs your bare thigh, and you flinch and squeal. He arches his back, thrusting his pelvis at the roof of the Jeep. "God! I've got the biggest fucking hard-on right now! I finally understand what Gordon was always going through with me!" You bite back the retort that, lately, you've had a lot more sympathy for the girls' side of things. "But, so, you wanna know what's going on?" he continues. "You really don't know? I only practically spelled it all out to you last period!" "I must be dense." "That's fine." He giggles as he jams the key into the ignition and turns the motor over with a roar. "I'll explain it on the way out. I was going to tell you what you needed to do next anyway. You'll have to make some phone calls tonight, and then!" He shrieks again, and you almost piss yourself for thinking that you're about to be hit by another car, only to realize it's Chelsea venting her excitement the way a boiler vents steam. * * * * * It's brilliantly simple and even obvious in retrospect, you have to admit when she's done explaining, and she doesn't even have to tell you what to do. You're thinking through exactly who to call first, and what to say, when you look up and find that Chen is driving you into the parking lot in front of The Shoppes at Fells Lake. That's the most expensive retail center in Saratoga Falls. It's where the Kelsey Blankenships get their stuff. "What are we doing here?" Chen's native manner has settled back around him. "I'm taking you shopping. I'm gonna throw some money at'choo." "You can't buy me something!" you screech. "Not right after you beat the shit out of Martin! Everyone thinks it's because he took that cell phone picture of us! I'll look like a—! Like a—!" He shrugs as he pulls into a parking spot. "If you don't want me to, I won't," he says. "You can just tell everyone I took you up here and let you try on a bunch of clothes." He gets out, and you stumble after. You start at Silbermann Jewelers, where you go up and down the display cases (while being ignored by the help) and look at various rings and necklaces. Chen holds you close, and whispers excitedly at you; and though nothing gets bought, you are sure that someone who looks like Chelsea will soon be sporting some new and expensive pieces of jewelry. Then you move on to Chesterbrooke Clothiers, which is the center of the Shoppes. The help there at least pay attention to you, though they are very frosty, and they frown sharply when you take a dress back to try on. Chen seems unfazed, though, and lounges in a chair while you model it for him. After the third dress, though, when you see one of the floorwalkers advancing on you, you suggest to him that you should leave. He only murmurs, "I know how to handle this," and leads you to a rack of jackets. After a little looking, he takes one down—a cropped denim jacket whose distressed look belies its $600 price tag. "I've seen some things in your wardrobe this would look good with," he says. "Try it on." So you do, and you admire yourself in the mirror while trying to ignore the skinny woman with the crossed arms who is glaring at you. "It's nice," you whisper to Chen when you peel it off, "but I really think we should—" "I think we should get it," he says. "Go look for a skirt and a top to go with it while I pay for it." His words leave you in a daze, and you can only stare as he saunters to the front counter with the jacket, and peels seven hundred-dollar bills out of his money clip as the cashier rings it up. After that, the temperature in the store turns quite balmy. * * * * * Your boyfriend—Yes! He's your boyfriend!—has to hold your hand to keep you from floating away when two hours later you are walking back to his Jeep. Besides the jacket, you left with a matching distressed jeans skirt and brand-new, pink Converse sneakers from Anbrog, and a keepsake bracelet from a return trip to Silberman. (You couldn't say "no" to anything by that point.) You are sipping cafe macchiatos from La Patisserie as you cross the parking lot. "I can't wear these things to school," you remind him. "I'll have to hide them at home." "You liked getting these things?" he asks. You have to nod. "I know how you can get more, and you won't have to hide it." "How?" He waits until you're in the Jeep before answering. "You wanted to wait until this whole 'plan' was done before picking yourself out another face," he says. "So start thinking of someone, 'cos it's practically in the bag. There's a lot of country club assholes you could be. Or their girlfriends." Chelsea is now solidly in "Chen" mode. "You wouldn't be jealous?" "Not if you pay me back." Huh? "What do you mean?" "I just blew a lot of money on you that I can't afford to spend. I told you, I got debts. So I need one of two things from you." He pushes you up against the side of the Jeep, and puts his face to yours. "I need to ramp up my sales, lay out more merch. You could help me. Get yourself a face that can help me sell my shit." You must have blanched, because he shrugs. "Or, you don't like that," he continues, "you could pay me back direct. There's all kinds of rich, coutnry-club fucks you could be." * To continue: "Chelsea Wins the War" |
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