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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Practicing Deceptions"  Leah has lots of friends, so many that it wouldn't be quite right to say that any of them count as her "best" friends. But Brianna Kirschke, a band-girl with a chipmunk-cute face that she hides behind black-frame glasses, would probably be a top name on any such list. So it feels funny to lie to her, and tell her that you don't know yet. "Keep your ear to the ground," you advise her. "You'll hear something when it's happening." Brianna scrunches up her nose in an excited grin, and you can't help grinning back at her. Fridays are just the best days ever! * * * * * Well, they would be the best days ever if so many of your classes didn't suck. Okay, it's not so much that the classes suck—which would be hard, given that two of them are choir classes and one is Interior Design. But you share too few of them with all those friends you've now got. Only in Ms. Gladstone's fourth-period English class does Leah have a "best" friend, and Susie Lekuawehe is such a scatterbrain that it's almost like not having a friend in there at all. (That period you also share with Caleb Johansson and a bunch of betas: beta-Mike, beta-Carlos, beta-Josiah, and not least beta-Will. You can't shake the feeling that three of those betas are giving you sly, sidelong looks all through class, and you definitely notice beta-Will giving what looks like a start of recognition when you saunter into the classroom. Which is weird, because you didn't tell him what you were going to do, and don't really recall ever noticing Leah in English before.) And that leaves the period after English as the only period of the day when you get to hang out with friends. * * * * * You grab your brown-bag lunch from your locker after English lets out and wolf it down—sandwich, banana, chips—on the walk from your locker to the library. You shove the last of the banana into your mouth as you plop into a chair next to the quartet of friends who are waiting there. Jack, his best friend Parker Stott, Parker's girlfriend Kristina Townes, and friend-to-all Wendy Terrill have fourth-period lunch, but they also have a fifth-period study hall, so they are already relaxing and waiting for you. And they do all look relaxed. Even Jack (you are interested to see) is leaning back with a crinkly smile on his face. "So!" you exclaim after sucking down the rest of your lunch with a gulp. You pump the air with two fists. "Fri-Day!" "Fri-Day!" Wendy and Kristina chant more mutedly. Parker says, "How're you gonna celebrate?" "She's gonna try losing her virginity again." You almost come out of your chair, because it was Jack who said it. With a warm, teasing smile, yes. But still, it was Jack who said it! "She came to school early today," he continues, "to eye-fuck the basketball squad." "You did too!" you exclaim as a bunch of grins swivel in your direction. "I mean," you correct yourself with a hot blush, "that's what you were up there doing! You were up there when I got there! He was!" you insist to the others, "and he was—!" "Yeah, I was scoping out the squad," Jack drawls. "There's some betting action I'm interested in." "Yeah, betting if you can—!" "Quiet." Jack pushes an admonitory finger into your face. "Before you say something really gross that's gonna piss me off." You slap his hand away. "Oh? You get to say gross things about me, but—?" "Ever since school started," Jack interrupts, "it seems like all I get to hear from you is about Austin Dougherty's thighs." "What's this betting action?" Parker asks before you can explode. "I ran into some guys at the college last weekend," Jack tells him as you silently fume. "They were talking about the spread on the Eastman-Westside game." He shrugs. "I got here early today, so I went in to watch practice, see what it looked like." "So how did the squad look?" There's a fractional pause, and almost you can see Gordon—from behind Jack's eyes—remembering what it was like to watch ... himself ... practicing on the floor below. Then he stretches his arms and sinks down into his chair, an action just a shade too studied to be completely casual. "They look like they know what they're doing." I bet they do, you think. "Gordon" looked like he totally knew what he's doing, and I bet it freaked you the fuck out! The conversation shifts to sports, which leaves you with not a lot to say, so while Parker and Jack yammer on about basketball—a topic you're pretty sure Jack wasn't on top of before last night's switch—you and the girls talk about recent parties and upcoming plans for Halloween. You're so absorbed you almost forget to pay any attention to Jack. Almost. At the end of the period he saunters out with the other three because they all have a P. E. class together, but you pluck at the back of his shirt until he stops and turns to you. "You didn't come out this morning to watch practice because you have a bet going," you accuse him. "No," he admits. "I just had some thinking to do." "While eye fucking the guys on the squad." "No, that was you." He bends over to hiss in your ear. "Scott Frazier!" You slap him in the chest. "So who were you eye fucking?" A slow grins slides up the side of his face. "Dare," he says. You make a face. But then— "Okay!" you exclaim. "Ask your secret crush out to Legends tonight!" For a moment his expression seems to freeze, and again, behind his eyes, you think you can see a gay-panicked Gordon Black glaring out at you. This his face relaxes. Almost. There's just the barest hint of anger in his manner when he says, "Okay." "Oh, fuck you. I'm serious!" "So am I. It's about time I did." He smiles, but there's a shadow inside it. "No you won't. Jack, as long as I've known you, you—" "I will." He settles his hands on your shoulders. "Absolutely." Your heart skips, but you still can't believe him. "Really. Say it. Tell me what you're going to do." He sighs. "I am going to invite my secret crush out to Legends tonight." "Who?" "Not telling you." "Then how will I know if you—?" "Not telling you," he repeats. Your eyes narrow. "And you'll tell him how you feel?" He slides a finger down your cheek. "That wasn't part of the 'dare', sweetheart." He dances back out of reach before you can hit him. * * * * * You get a text from Maria asking if you've picked out a second beta for Keith. Instead of replying, you text Cindy to ask if she can come out to Legends tonight, and when she says she can, you text Maria to say that you don't need to fix up a second beta for Keith because Cindy can help you keep an eye on Jack. Will, we have to talk, Maria replies, but you counter with Tomorrow got plans all day n tonite. Your immediate post-school plans have nothing to do with Jack but evolved from your lunchtime talk with Kristina and Wendy, and after stopping at home long enough to drop your book bag and to tell your mom you'll see her sometime tomorrow (for Leah has an awesomely late curfew) you head downtown to meet the girls at HolidayTown, a store specializing in holiday-themed decorations and items, to look for Halloween costumes. That proves a bust, though, as they carry nothing except some cheap masks and plastic props. Not that it really matters, because you want to talk with them about Jack. You can hardly keep from bursting when you share the news that Jack will be inviting his "secret crush" to Legends tonight. Naturally, they want to know who it is. But you have to confess you don't know. "You said he was watching the basketball squad at practice this morning," Kristina says. "I said he was eye-fucking them." "So it's probably one of them?" "I don't see it," Wendy says. "Not for Jack." "Well, it's not Marc Garner," Kristina retorts. Wendy pouts. "Who says?" "Shut up! You've been shipping them forever. It's not going to happen." Wendy's pout deepens. "Not with Hannah in the way." "Marc's not gay." "He doesn't have to be gay," you put in, so fast that the expressed thought almost surprises you. "Jack's secret crush, I mean," you stammer. "It could be any guy, straight or—" You break off as Kristina tenses. There's been way too much loose talk recently about Jack having a "thing" for his long-time best friend, Parker, who has just started going out with her. "But anyway," you continue before the pause can become awkward, "I bet that's it." "He has a crush on a guy who's straight?" Wendy's brow furrows. "Well, it's not like he's got a lot of choices, and he hates— But what I mean is— Well, he's always been really secret about his secret crush." Wendy turns prim. "So I bet it's a guy with a girlfriend." "It's not Marc." "How much you wanna bet?" Wendy taunts. "Everything," you retort, rising to the challenge. "What's that mean?" You plunge, recklessly. "It means everything. Bragging rights, all my cash, and anything at my house that's mine to give away! See it and call!" You lift your chin and daunt her with your brightest stare. Wendy pales. It's a wager too reckless for her, and she crumples. * * * * * But she tries resurrecting the wager later that night, at the dance club, when Marc Garner indeed shows up. Next: "Dancing Around the Issues" |
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