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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Possible Boyfriends for Me and Thee"  There's the germ of a good idea in there—switching Caleb and Anthony—but you've already got a plan in motion, and it seems best to concentrate on that, particularly as (per your instructions) Caleb has already prepped the groundwork. So, after the final bell rings, you send Gloria and Kendra into the gym to watch basketball practice—it would be too mortifying for you to attend, but the squad needs representation—while you wait in the library, lazily working on your nails and catching up on some of the social media shit you've been putting off. A lot of this involves taking Meghan Farris in hand, and sending lots of notes around to goad various prominent girls (like Catherine Muskov) into promising to attend. You have to wince a little at the bullying tone that creeps into your missives—You don't want to be that girl who doesn't show up is a phrase that slips in more than once—but pulling Meghan uphill is a pretty hard job. But by a quarter after five, post-school practices are breaking up, and after a lazy stop in the girls' room and at your locker you mosey on over to the gym. The floor is clear of asshole basketball players, so there's no one to watch as you squat and retrieve from under the bleachers the bag that Caleb left for you. Outside, there's still a few girls loitering on the tennis courts, but you ignore them to stand by the gym wall and squint into the student parking lot. Halfway across it sits a white Nissan, and standing beside it is Philip Fairfax, his face bent toward his phone. You snort to yourself and saunter out to meet him. He spots you and gives a little start, but he says nothing until you are almost atop him. "Hey," you say. "Can I get you to move your car up next to the gym, right next to mine? I need your help moving some stuff, and I don't want to hike it all the way out here." Philip blinks at the strange request, but clambers into his car. There's a pause as he watches to see what you'll do, then precedes you back to the gym when you turn and sashay back the way you came. "Leave the keys in the ignition," you tell him when you've caught up to him again, "and can I get you to clean out your back seat?" Philip has to climb halfway inside his car to get at the junk he has piled up there, and once he's in this vulnerable position you move around to the other side and climb halfway in to join him. He gives you only a brief glance before lowering his eyes—he's either bashful or daunted—so he doesn't see the mask you are balancing in a free hand. You are about to smush it into him when you realize— "Hey," you say, and he pauses again. "Can I see your glasses a minute?" When he only blinks you reach up and twitch them off his face. He blinks again, and his eyes go out of focus. They are classic nerd glasses, but then he's a classic nerd. They have heavy black frames, and without them his whole face seems to go out of focus: the laser-like focus of his gaze disappears, replaced with a vacant stare and a slack expression. How clearly can he see you? Not clearly enough. Or maybe he's just too stunned by your company to react before you lift the mask and push it into his face. His head snaps back, and then he pitches face-first onto the pile of books he was in the act of stacking up. You cross back around to the other side, push his legs up into the car, and shut the door. His feet poke up, the toes resting against the window. Then you wave to the occupant of the one other car parked in the lot before sprinting back into the gym. * * * * * With Philip you had to be subtle. There's no time for subtlety with Steve. You listen at the loft door for a moment, then pound a fist against it, as though trying to punch your way through the wood. When it opens you spring inside, climb up Steve's chest like a monkey up a wall, and smash the second mask into his face. Patterson stumbles back a step, then folds up and falls to the floor. You double-check that the loft is empty, then set to work stripping him of his clothes. Luckily, he's changed into loose sweats and a muscle shirt, so you don't have turn him over or lift him up to get them off. Then comes the hard part—seizing him by the ankles and tugging him out of the loft and onto the landing. You've got him halfway out when his phone chimes. You pause, and when his phone goes off again you spring over to where it's fallen. It's a text from Kendra, asking u stlil there? You cuss to yourself, because a quick glance at the rest of the conversation shows that she and Steve were making plans to get together. You answer her on Steve's behalf with a brb, then yank out your phone and with trembling fingers shoot Kendra a text of your own: Come over my house asap pls thx! You have no intention of actually meeting her there, but you're gratified when she replies that she will. She then texts Steve to tell him that she has to meet up with you instead. (But you feel your brow blackening when you see the "vomit" emoji she appended to her note.) A few minutes later, you've managed to haul the naked Steve Patterson to the bottom of the stairs, and you fold him up inside a corner of the half-hidden stairwell where he won't be visible from the rest of the gym. You tap your foot impatiently until the mask reappears on his face. Gingerly you lift it off and run back out the gym. Caleb is leaning up against your car, blowing into the interior of a mask. With a scowl he thrusts at you it and the bundle of clothes he pulled off Fairfax. You give him Steve's mask in exchange, then run back into the gym, to kneel over Steve and gently settle the mask onto him. The change is too quick to register. Where the tall, lanky, hairy Steve Patterson had been curled up, there is now the smooth and milky-white form of Philip Fairfax. You drop the clothes at the sleeper's feet, then with bursting heart make another dash for the gym door. Now Caleb is waiting for you with crossed arms. "I want an hour with you," he says. "We can talk now." "Not to talk. For—" He makes a fist and slides a rigid finger in and out of it. "Ew. I only promised you thirty minutes." "I want another thirty for—" He nods his chin at your car. You peek into the back seat and spot Fairfax sprawled inside it. "You know how hard that was, pulling him out of his car into yours?" He rubs his lower back. "I think I strained something." "Cry me a river. I had to haul Steve downstairs from the loft. But don't worry," you add with an airy wave of the hand. I'll make it up to you. But first we need to get out of here. Here." You toss Patterson's car keys to Caleb. "Meet me behind the strip center across from the McDonald's." Caleb is still scowling as you climb into your car, but he's on your tail as you pull out onto Borman Avenue. * * * * * He parks Steve's car next to you after you're at the strip center, but he goes into the CVS instead of waiting around. Philip's eyes are closed, but he is stirring and softly grunting to himself when you drop Steve's mask onto him. Then you shut the door and lean back against your car to wait for him to wake up again. You use the time to relax and get your heart rate back down, and to text Kendra a nvr mind sorry and a smiley-face emoji. You can't stop yourself from glancing back into the car to keep an eye on the new Steve, but it's ten minutes before you can smile into the face of a bewildered basketball player. He stares back at you with a haggard and sickly expression, but doesn't move when you open the door and lean in to chirp, "How are you doing there, Steve?" His brow furrows. "What's going on?" "Give it a minute, Steve," you tell him, "and I'll tell you all about it. Oh." You push a pile of clothes at him. He looks at them, then plucks up one of the tennis shoes. "This isn't mine," he says. "Sure it is, Steve." His brow darkens. "And why do you keep calling me that?" Next: "The Puzzled Partner" |
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