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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Breaking Crisis"  "Amanda Ferguson?" you gasp. "You mean for my, uh, extra person?" Chen bobs his head, and his eyes disappear as his face rolls up into a beaming smile. "She's in, like, the perfect position for the next stage!" "Which is what?" you ask warily. Chen catches himself, and looks around the Starbucks. He also peers out the plate glass windows to make sure the coast up and down Orlando Road is clear. Then he scoots up, touching his knees to yours. But you forestall him. "Look, before we go any further, could this plan use Steve Patterson help?" He rears back as though you've slapped him. "Steve?" he exclaims. "Yeah. You told me I could pick myself out another mask, and I was thinking of Patterson." Chen stares at you with a slack jaw. Then he fumbles at his pockets. He takes out a cigarette and a lighter, and is on the point of firing up before he catches himself. He stares at you. "Steve?" he says. "Well .. why?" "Because he's always up in the loft and he could get in the way. He could catch us." "Oh, I can handle that," Chen says dismissively. "I can always get Gordon to—" "And because I just want a mask of him." His brow furrows, and again he asks, "Why?" Because I want to experience what you're experiencing, you think. I wanna be an alpha-alpha dog. And I want to break an alpha-alpha dog. I want to break the alpha-alpha dog and skin his alpha-alphaness right off him and wear it like it's my own skin. And when I'm being someone else again—when I'm being Yumi or myself—I want to look at that alpha-alpha dog and know that he's my poodle. You say none of this aloud. You say nothing aloud. But maybe the thought is readable on your face. For Gary Chen, after studying your expression, relaxes into a kind of smirk, and he settle back in his chair. "Sure, Will," he says. "I get it." He puts the cigarette in his mouth and sets the lighter to it. He inhales deeply on it, and sinks lower into his chair. He lifts his face to the ceiling, and he blows a long, thick stream of smoke into the air of your alcove. * * * * * You ask Chelsea if that will complicate her plans, and if she really needs you to be Amanda, but she waves the thought aside with a brusque, Nah I can handle it fine. And when you ask her what the plan is, she tells you it doesn't really matter, not to you, because you'll be Steve Patterson and it won't matter to him. When you ask if you can still help, she says she'll be able find something for you to do for her. And when you ask if this is going to affect the Gary-Yumi romance that you were planning to launch, he grins wolfishly at you, sucks down the last of his cigarette, and tosses it on the ground. "How come we'd need that?" he asks. "I'll be able to talk to you no trouble if you're Steve." You're standing outside when you have this talk, because the barista ordered you out after she fired up that cigarette. She glowered at him, but complied. "If you want Steve, we can probably get him tonight," she says. "Oh hell, I know we can get him tonight, he's probably going to want the loft anyway, it being a Saturday." "How are you going to do it?" you ask. You can't imagine Gary Chen, no matter his wiry strength, wrangling a mask onto Steve Patterson, who is more than six-and-a-half feet tall and packed with rangy muscles. "Easy, I'll get Gordon to help. I'll be up there with him when we call Steve up and—" He feels for another cigarette, then changes his mind. "It'll be so fucking easy," he mutters. "You just be up at the school at the time I tell you." You promise you will be, and part. * * * * * Eva and Jessica and Lin, of course, want to know what Gary had to say at your meeting. (And the subtext, you can tell is, Did he try sexually assaulting you?) You tell them (via text) that you just had coffee and talked about the crisis. Which you did, a little, with Chelsea, so you'd have something to tell them. So you tell them that Gary thinks it was Erik Carstairs behind it all, trying to get Marc in trouble while throwing a little extra trouble his way via Eva and Jessica; and that you retorted that it was probably Chelsea trying to get Eva and Jessica kicked off the squad while throwing a little extra trouble their way via Marc. You relate that he wasn't happy to hear your theory and that he sneered all over it, but you sneered all over his. Eva, after the conversation has ended, does text you separately a little later to ask if you were sure Gary didn't "try" anything with you. She plainly wants something to chew on, so you tell her that you got the impression that he was trying to eye-fuck you the whole time, and maybe he did think he could get somewhere with you, but you made it clear to him that he makes you sick. Because, as Chelsea says, if you're going to be Steve Patterson, then you'll be able to communicate with her directly and so there's no need anymore to pair Gary and Yumi. Though you have to confess that part of you regrets it will no longer be necessary. The girls wanted to get together with you, but you needed to keep yourself free for any word from Chelsea, so you declined and stayed home instead. So you were in your bedroom with your door open when Mokichi passed by and stuck his head in. "The fuck's going on with the soccer team at Westside?" he bluntly asked you. You are sprawling stomach-down on the bed with your phone, kicking at the air with your bare feet, but you lift yourself up so you can shout, "Mom! Mokichi just used the eff-bomb on me!" "She's at the store, you little bitch," your older brother sneers. "So I'll ask you again. What the motherfucking fuck is going on with the soccer team at Westside?" You don't know how Mokichi, a sophomore at the college, could have heard about the drama, or why he would care. So that's what you ask him. "I heard it from Gaines," he says. That would be Colin Gaines, one of his friends. Both of them were on the Westside soccer squad in their high school days. "He heard it from Dani Summer." "The fuck does Dani Summer care about it?" "She's on the squad." "Girls' squad. What's she care if Marc got busted for bringing weed to school?" His eyes widen. "Garner?" he exclaims. "He brought weed to school?" "Isn't that what you're—? What are you talking about?" you squeal. "I'm talkin' about the girls' squad. But you say Garner—" "What's going on with the girls' squad?" "I'm asking you! You're always, like, off scissoring with Garner's sisters." You feel you face about to explode. "First of all!" you scream at him, "Eva and Jessica aren't on the soccer team anymore, they had to quit to become cheerleaders! And in the second place—!" You grab a pillow and throw it at him. "Get the fuck outta my room!" The pillow hits him, but he just snorts. "I thought you'd be all plugged in," he says. "Gaines says that Dani tells him half the girls' squad is ready to murder the other half." "Then get Gaines to tell you what's going on! Or Dani!" "Fine," he says. "Dani's probably not on the rag anyway." You scream at him again and jump off the bed. But before you can find and hurl something even heavier at him, he pulls the bedroom door shut on you. * * * * * The text comes from Chelsea's phone at five o'clock: Be there at six. You erase the text and change into some loose-fitting clothes—sweatpants and a sweatshirt—before heading out. The sun is still riding fairly high in the sky when you pull into the student parking lot at Westside, but it's low enough to put a glare into your car. You slouch behind the wheel with your phone and await developments. They're longer than you'd like in coming: nearly forty minutes elapse before you see a white Kia come purring into the parking lot, where it pulls up next to the orange VW Beetle parked next to the gym. Like a folding ladder, Steve Patterson has to unbend at multiple joints as he gets out of it. You're parked way off to the side, facing the athletic fields, and are slouched down so that (hopefully) he can't see you. But you can't help peeping in his direction. And so you see it as he turns to stare at your car. He's too far off for his expression to be readable—and he's wearing sunglasses besides—but he stares at you long enough that you begin to fear that he's spotted and recognized you. But then he turns to stare off into the athletic fields (which are empty) as though in search of someone. Then he gives up and on a long, loping stride walks around the side of the gym to let himself in through the side door. You find that you've holding your breath, and your heart starts beating hard after you let it out. There's another wait that seems interminable, though it's probably only a few minutes, before a text chimes on your phone. Get in here now. You hop out and sprint for the side door. Chelsea is standing at the foot of the staircase when you come in, and she scampers over to meet you. "Jesus, that was almost a disaster," she says. "It was like he was expecting something." "Did everything go okay?" you ask. "Oh sure, sure." Then she stops to squeeze your arm. "You're going to be so happy, Will. He's got a date for tonight!" Next: Coming soon! Check back! |
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