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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Masking Problems"  "I need to drive my car back and pick up my sleeping bag," Caleb says. He doesn't sound happy. That makes the logistics of getting back to his place complicated, and you wind up riding with Caleb rather than with Gordon, but the topic is still relevant: "Chelsea's throwing a party on Friday," you tell him once you're on the road. "Yeah?" he says. "That'll be just another all-kinds-of-awesome thing for you then, won't it?" "She wants me to invite you to it," you continue. "Caleb Johansson and all his friends." Caleb almost drives off the road. "You told her no, didn't you?" "I wanted to tell you first," you say. "Actually, I told her I'd talk to you about it. Don't you want to go?" "Do I?" "Eva will be there." "Oh God," he groans. "Yeah, you haven't done anything about her, have you? I guess that's a good enough reason for you not to go. It'd be really awkward if you showed up and she was there and you had to figure out what to -- " "Yeah, you can shut up now. I'm not going." "And Steve and Jason would be there. You know, Steve mentioned to me that he's got you in a class." "Right. Physics." "And he mentioned you're friends with Ioeger and Lamont. He and Gordon and Jason don't like those two guys." "Mm." "And Javits will be there. If you're gonna bring your friends to her party, you're gonna bring Keith, right?" "I said I'm not going! Jesus, why are you trying to convince me not to do something I've already told you I'm not going to do?" "I just don't want you to be jealous because I'm going." "I'm not jealous. I hope you have fun." "I don't think I will." You stare at the passing scenery -- convenience stores and strip centers. "I don't think Gordon has a lot of fun at those things." "Why not?" "I dunno. I'm getting a headache just thinking about it. The party, I mean." It all crystalizes into a thought. "You wanna wear Gordon's mask, go to it for me?" Again, the car jerks in the lane. "Why would I want to do that?" "Why wouldn't you? Get a chance to put your arm around Chelsea, hang out with the big guys, be the big dog of the school but not actually in school." You settle back. "Get to know Gordon a little better, from the inside. You and him are getting along pretty good these days, right?" "Yeah, it's okay. When he's acting like you. Except it's kind of creepy 'cos I know it's not you." "Well, talk to him about doing it." "How about you talk to him about doing it? You talk like you guys are really close." * * * * * Gordon has followed you back to Caleb's place, and after Caleb has packed up his stuff for the night he and Will drive off. But first Gordon takes you aside and asks to meet up with you someplace to eat after he's dropped off Caleb at the school for the night. "I'll buy," he says. You wind up at a Dairy Queen a few blocks from Caleb's house, where you can eat a burger and fries with "Will Prescott" without being spotted by anyone from school. You get a word in first with news of Chelsea's invite. "You and Caleb are invited. Keith too, I guess." You're not surprised when he snorts. "Fuck that. I never liked going to those things anyway, this is a perfect way to skip." He peers at you. "You might have fun, though." "I told Caleb he could go instead of me. I'd give him your mask, you know. Would that be okay with you?" "I don't give a shit," he says. "That's totally between you guys." He hunkers down. "But I got another reason for not going to Chelsea's thing. You said it was Friday, right?" "Yeah, you got plans?" "Maybe. I wanted to clear them with you first." His eyes dart about shiftily. "I, uh, was thinking about asking someone out on Friday night." This wasn't what you'd been expecting him to say. You'd been expecting some kind of explosion, some burst of anger because you'd screwed something up for him. Probably that feeling of dread is a relic of Gordon's history with his dad. You realize you're staring with your mouth hanging open. You shake yourself. "Oh? Uh, who?" The table starts to vibrate: Will is jogging his leg hard, and he hunches further. His answer is inaudible, and you have to ask him to repeat it. "Cassie Harper," he says. Cassie Harper? Motormouth Cassie? He winces when he looks at your face. "Something wrong?" he says in a whine. You probably do have a comical look on your face. You've never given much thought to Cassie, a tiny little redhead that you've shared a few classes with, and who you mostly regard as an annoyance. She's a chatterbox who can't stop talking and giggling inanely about anything that crosses her birdbrain, and she makes these weird little spasmodic jerks with her arms and her body as though she's constantly surprised by the things going on around her. And although she is clearly female, and not at all unattractive as a female, you have never thought of her as anything except generically "female". Certainly you're astonished that Gordon Black, of all people, would find her attractive. Oh, but he's not "Gordon Black" these days. He's "Will Prescott," and he has to settle for whoever Will Prescott could get. A bolus of anger forms behind your right eye. You rub it. "No, there's nothing wrong," you say, trying to keep your voice calm. "Go for it. If you honestly think that's the best you can do with my body." The guy with Will Prescott's body stares back at you over the table. The color in his face deepens, and his gaze goes very cold. "That's not what I was thinking, Prescott," he says. "I wasn't thinking 'What's the best I can do with -- '" He grinds to a choking stop. "You know what I did this morning? I asked out Andrea Varnsworth." Your chair drops a couple of inches, it feels like. "You what? You didn't!" "I'm not shitting you, I did." The red of his cheeks spreads over his nose. "I figured, what the fuck, you know? What's the worst that could happen? She could say no. And what's the best? I mean, really." His eyebrows go up. "What's the best that could happen? Could turn out she had a secret crush on Will Prescott all these years and loves to give blow jobs." You can almost taste it in the back of your throat: the lovely mouth and tongue of the captain of the Westside swim team. "What did she say?" you ask hoarsely. His lip curls. "She has a secret crush on you and loves to give blow jobs, that's what she said. Jesus. You think I'd be asking you about Cassie Harper if Andrea Varnsworth said that? She said no." "Oh." You didn't have your hopes up, but it is still crushing to hear. "She wasn't mean about it or anything. She just smiled -- Well, kind of. And said 'Thanks, but no'." His shoulders jerk. "Anyway. I'm telling you that because it's not like I'm fucking settling or anything. I'd ask other girls, I don't care. My ego's not wrapped up in any of them saying yes, and if I get you a good one -- " "You think Cassie's a good one?" You can't get your mind around the idea that the answer might be yes. "There's nothing wrong with her," he says. "She's got good looking parts and they're in all the right places. Well, her boobs are pretty small." His shoulders jerk again. "Thing is, I know she'll say yes if I ask her." You're starting to get the kind of sick feeling in your stomach that people get when they're on an airplane that's hit turbulence. "How do you know that? Did you ask someone?" He blinks. "I know, because I noticed her and I paid attention to her. Yeah, it was in your English and Astronomy classes," he continued. "I caught her looking at me a couple of times last week, and we talked on Friday. She's totally into you, man. She was dripping just to talk to me." If you were on an airplane, you'd be praying right now for it to crash and put you out of your misery. The idea that Cassie Harper might be so hot for you that she's -- You swallow hard. "You okay there?" Gordon asks. "Uh, I never thought of her. That way." You blink a couple of times and lick your lips. Now that you are thinking of her, and are starting to think of her that way -- Well, Gordon is right, that she does have all the right parts and they are arranged in all the right ways. Pert. That's the way you'd have to describe Cassie. She's got a lot of energy, too, and you have a sudden vision of her applying all that energy to you, and the passion behind that energy because she is hot and lustful for you, because you make her groan just to think of her -- You push back the ball cap you're wearing and wipe your forehead, which has suddenly sprung out in a sweat. The old dog down in your shorts -- Gordon's old dog, which is hardly ever still -- raises its nose and quivers excitedly. But it's a long time before you can get yourself to speak, to answer, because you're caught between wanting to take the chance -- at no risk to yourself, since Gordon would be carrying out the actual date -- and dreading the consequences. What if you wound up with chattering Cassie as a girlfriend? Finally you just close your eyes, open your mouth, and let your first instinct answer for you. Next: "Problems of the Heart, Muddles of the Head" |
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