%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Party Plans"  "Oh, come on!" you exclaim when Will and Caleb continue to look skeptical. "When we got that book we were all into doing pranks with it. Remember? What happened? What have we been doing? It's all been serious with it since, well -- " You break off before you can say something really regrettable like "Since Gordon got into it." "Yeah, it hasn't really worked out well for that, has it," says Caleb. "'Cos we're not trying! This is the perfect opportunity! Yo, I know you don't like Chelsea's parties," you tell Will. "How'd you like the chance to screw one up and not take the blame?" He makes a face. "You wanna wear the Lynch mask?" Caleb asks him. "'Cos I don't want to." Will slumps against the wall. "No, I'm not interested in that." "'Cos I'm not either," Caleb says. He turns to you. "Sounds like -- " "So I'll play Lynch, and you can wear this one," you tell Caleb. "Or we'll make two new ones, it's not hard. Or hey!" You snap your fingers and grin at Will. "Chelsea was talking about inviting some of the football guys out." His face slackens. "She's really trying to make trouble. She's trying piss you off. Piss me off, whatever." "Well, she wasn't talking about inviting Huber, but she was talking about inviting Palendech and Ratliff." "I guess they're not so bad," Will says with an expression that suggests they're actually a lot worse. "So if she doesn't invite Huber out -- " Your cheeks ache from the huge smile that's split your face. "Then we don't have to figure out how to keep him away. And then there wouldn't be a problem if a guy who looked just like him showed up and made a total ass of himself!" You just pushed the magic button. You can tell from the way that Will's eyes have gone wide. Caleb, naturally, doesn't have a clue what you're talking about. "What's it matter about -- ? Are we talking about Cameron Huber?" "Yeah. Back in middle school he used to push Gordon around." "He didn't push me around," Will says. "He pushed you around, fucker. Like, what Javits does to Tilley, that kind of thing." "Really?" Caleb swings around to gape at Will. "It wasn't that bad," Will mutters thickly. "You thought it was that bad," you retort. "You felt like it was that bad. Yeah," you continue as you stretch and flex your arms. "Can you believe that Gordon was a late bloomer? Wasn't until his sophomore year after he start spurting and hitting the weights -- " "I punched the fuck out of that cocksucker a few times, and that straightened him out," Will says in a blazing tone. He's turned very red. "This is bizarre," Caleb says. "I always thought of Cameron as an okay dude." "He's not. He's a fucker and a -- " "So you'll do it?" you ask Will. "If we get a mask of Huber?" He agrees, and then Caleb agrees to go along with it too. * * * * * So your trio goes off to the school basement, where you make masks and metal bands over the course of a couple of hours, and also make plans for copying people. It's Gordon who comes up with an alias for Caleb: At Salopek he works side by side with Sean Mitchell, who is on the football team and is one of Huber's friends. "I can copy him tomorrow," he says, "then use that mask to get to Huber. You can go to the party as Mitchell." "What's he like?" Caleb asks. "Mitchell? He's got a stick up his ass, but he's not horrible." "Not like Lynch, huh?" Will gives Caleb a dirty look, but lets the comment otherwise pass. "I'll get the mask to you, and then -- oh, Christ -- I'll go do something with Mitchell to keep him out of the way while you go find Huber." "I'm not gonna be able to get into the memories fast enough for that," Caleb points out. "I won't know how to find him." "I know how to find him," you blurt out. "Leave it to me." * * * * * Again, the next morning you check the progress of the burning pile of earth on the way to school, and find that it's still burning. The evening forecast calls for rain; you'd worry about it dousing the spell or otherwise messing it up, but your experience in lighting it has convinced you that it's no ordinary fire and probably can't be dampened by rain. You don't share any classes with Cameron Huber, but you know where to find him at lunch: the cafeteria, a few tables over from your usual spot. You watch until you see him coming in with his friends, then go over to see him. Huber is a pretty big guy -- as quarterback of the Westside football team, he'd have to be -- without being too big. He's brawny all over, and even at noon there's a shadow of whiskers on his cheeks, and his tightly cut, reddish-brown locks gleam with a sheen of light oil. You can barely keep your anger in check as you approach him. Not that you yourself have anything against Huber, who in your experience has always been a decent guy, though one you don't have anything to do with. But Gordon's got strong feelings about him, and if those feelings are mixed it's because he feels every possible negative emotion around the guy: fear, hatred, contempt, envy, and resentment. All of them stemming from the fact that in middle school Huber was the big guy in the class, who was universally popular, and was the first to have a girlfriend, and who went out of his way to humiliate Gordon Black. And those feelings have not gone away even though the tables have, to a degree, turned. In fact, it's probably because the tables have only partially turned that Gordon hates Huber all the more. Because Gordon knows that, as a person, Huber is still more popular than he is. And Huber seemingly feels the same way. His eyes harden when he sees you approach, and the friends clustered about him visibly tense as well. "I wanna talk to you," you say in a low voice when you're face to face with Gordon's nemesis. "What about?" "Just some stuff. Varsity stuff. Clear the air a little between us." "Like what kind of varsity stuff?" "Look, it's not my idea. Coach Brooks -- " You break off. Coach Porter oversees the football program, and Coach Brooks oversees the basketball program, so it's tough coming up with a story about the coaches that encompasses both. "There's just some crap I need to talk to you about. Business. Let's do it on neutral ground after school." Huber lifts his chin and puts his shoulders back, like you've just challenged him to a fight. "Where?" "Christ. The Crystal Cave, okay? You know where that is?" The name of Saratoga Falls' premiere kooky coffee house draws snickers and meaningful glances from Huber's entourage. Even Huber can't keep a sneer down. "Why there?" You look around the group, and their mirthful gazes aren't daunted by your cold one. "Because my girlfriend wants me to pick up a special blend for our anniversary, and because I have a girlfriend that's what I'm going to do." It was probably the wrong thing to say, because now the grins break out in earnest. "What does she like?" Huber asks. You ignore the question. "Seven o'clock," you tell him, which is the time you set with Caleb last night. "You say something, Nieves?" "No." But Ethan Nieves's lips twitch. "Oh, I thought you did." You let it drop, and trudge back to your table. But you heard what he murmured to Marcus Johnston: She likes it big and stupid. And you hear Johnston's louder reply as you walk away. "But where do you find big and stupid coffee beans?" * * * * * You don't know what it is about this town. It's not like it's in California or down the road from Salem, Massachusetts. The local university -- the Keyserling School of Mining and Technology -- is a hard-headed, science-oriented place. But Saratoga Falls is thick with weird, fruity, quasi-occult crap. There's that one coffee shop called The Flying Saucer, for instance, and the sandwich place that calls itself "Besandwiched" and has occult crap painted on its walls. There are mediums and palm readers in all the strip centers. Arnholm's has a massive occult section in its store, and let's not forget that you found an actual, authentic, working grimoire in its special collections case. And there's The Crystal Cave, where you're sitting now. Each of the twelve booth in the back room has a creepy symbol painted on the wall above it, and each of the ten tables in the front room has a special symbol printed on a card at the end of a metal pole. Someone explained to you once that the booths were decorated with the twelve signs of the zodiac, and that the tables were marked with the signs of the planets. You pointed out that there were only nine planets, and got told that the sun was also considered a planet. You made a snarky comment on how dumb it was to think of the sun as a planet, which led to a tepid kind of fight with the person doing the explaining. But the booth you've chosen is also decorated with one of those metal stands, this one holding a card with a drawing of a crescent moon. Above your left shoulder, on the wall, is a figure holding a bow and arrow. Next: "A Plan Comes Together ..." |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
