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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Can't Everyone Be Friends?"  The library grows more crowded as first bell approaches, and so does your table. You, Bhodi, Paulina, Andy, Joe, Grant, Joe, Evie ... So many more people than you're used to dealing with. Don't act paranoid, you tell yourself as you listen to the guys joking and joshing. And yet you can't stop yourself from pricking up your ears at everything they say, searching for a double meaning. When Grant jokes about tearing his own face off because he hates his math class so much, is that a coded reference to putting on and taking off masks? When Joe observes that different people are better at different things, is he alluding becoming different people and becoming good at what they do? When Justin checks his cell phone and mutters that he needs to meet up with Ethan Clayborne after school, is he openly plotting with the others about pulling off a planned replacement? Evie jerks you out of these paranoid reveries with a nudge. "Hey, you're being quiet," she says. "Just preoccupied." You won't see her again till seventh period, so you ask, "What are you doing after school?" "I hear there's a party tonight," she starts to say. "At Laura Serrano's," Paulina puts in. You make a face, but tell Evie, "If we can get a ride together, I'll go with you out to it." "Cool!" Grant chirps from behind your shoulder. "I think we're all of us going. Pick up around eight?" * * * * * Laura Fucking Serrano. You're going to have all day to dread going out to her house. Even after dealing with her in some of your classes. Laura was okay back in middle school, when she liked comic books and Star Trek. But then it's like she decided she was too smart to like that kind of stuff. She also got some kind of makeover that made her really stuck up about her looks. Now she's one of those snotty girls who talks about the latest good music, thinks that everyone wants to hear what she has to say about whatever she's interested in, and judges you by how much you care about gun control. In other words—you explain to yourself—she's on track to be another Kelsey Blankenship. You first share a second period Algebra I—and how Lindsay would love to lord it over Laura taking a freshman-level math class except that Lindsay has to take it too—but luckily she sits on the other side of the room. But come third period, not only do you have Speech II with her, but Mrs. Wendt has put you on the same speech team. She's buffing her nails as you shuffle into the classroom, and rolls her eyes as you drop into the desk next to hers. At least she's hating the partnership as much as you. She would much rather be working with her friends—Matthew Adams and Kaitlyn Page—but Mrs. Wendt had the idea to split up the little cliques that have developed in the class. Not that Lindsay has a "clique" in here; so why did she have to get shoved into a group with Laura? "Hey guys!" That's Michael Duncan, the third of your four-person group. He drops his pack on his desk and wedges his long legs and torso into his seat. He's dressed in jeans, a gray hoodie, and a trucker cap like yours, and his eyes shine with the enthusiasm of a grade-A dork who thinks that if he just likes other people hard enough they'll like him back. Lindsay actually has a soft spot for him, but wishes he would try a lot less. "Did you get those links I sent you last night?" he asks. You grunt an affirmative. Lindsay shuts her eyes and lifts her brows. "Great," says Michael exclaims in his nasal squeak. "'Cos if you looked at the second and third ones—" "Can we wait till class starts?" Laura says. "And I didn't look at them last night? 'Cos I had other work I had to do?" Michael's face falls. So you jump in, "The only reason you could do that other work, Laura," you tell her, "is that Michael was out doing our other work for us. Thanks," you tell him. Laura's eyes narrow, but Michael's light up. "The second and the third one are the real good ones," he prattles on. "They've got some arguments I haven't seen anywhere else, and I figure—" You smile at him as he rattles on, ignoring the fourth of your quartet, Lucas Mack, as he plops into a nearby seat with a quizzical look on his face. As for Michael, you've no idea what he's talking about—except that it's research for your group topic, which is on balancing freedom of expression and prohibitions on bullying and hate speech on social media—but you nod cheerfully along as he explains the reading that he linked you to. There's no way that you, after shutting Laura down, are going to admit to not having looked at the links either. * * * * * Well, somehow you survive that class, and you also scrape through AP English II. (Michael's in there too, just as bubbly and enthusiastic as in Speech.) Then comes lunch, which you take with Paulina. You hunch together at the end of one of the tables at the side of the cafeteria, ignoring and being ignored by the juniors who take up the rest of the table. "So Bhodi roped you into going out to Laura's party tonight?" you observe as you poke at the rubbery vegetarian lasagna. "Yeah. He and the guys want to go out, and I can't anyone interested in coming out to my place." She gives you a sidelong look. "I thought you didn't like Laura." "I'll break a couple of her lamps, and that'll make it even between us. How did Bhodi get invited to this party?" "I don't think it was him, I think it was someone else. We're all going in on someone else's ticket or something." "All, like, ten of us?" "Laura'll want it big and happening, right? Anyway, it's a way of doing something fun now that we don't have the, uh, other thing." It actually takes you a minute to figure out what she's referring to. "That wasn't fun," you growl. "Well, it was exciting. Kind of an adventure, had a happy ending." She squirms on her stool. "What did you do with that book?" "I burned it," you lie. "I put it in an empty garbage can and poured gasoline on it and I burned it." Actually, Lindsay hadn't figured out a way yet to dispose of the book, and it is currently hidden inside an old Sorry! board game box on a shelf in her bedroom. "Oh." Paulina loses some of the color in her face. "Well, I guess that's that. Although—" She hesitates. "It might've been a good idea to keep it around, don't you think? I mean, my God," she says with sudden heat, then glances around and lowers her voice to a near-whisper. "It was really magic." "It was evil, Paulina. We talked about it." "Yeah, but— Will and Caleb weren't evil. We're not." You feel the tug of an argument from Lindsay, but soften it even as you mumble around the lasagna you've stuffed in your mouth. "Even if they weren't evil, they did evil stuff with it. Which makes it worse, right?" You stuff some more food in your mouth. "If they're not evil and they did that, think how bad it would be if someone really evil got hold of it." "But we're not," Paulina protests. Then she gives up. "Well, it doesn't matter now, does it?" "Nope." And that's all that gets said about the book. You'd like to follow it up by asking about Evie, and how she feels about Will and Caleb, but it seems like it would be an awkward topic to bring up; and besides, you can talk to her about it later. * * * * * But though the devil's name isn't dropped, one of them does show up at your locker just before eighth period. Caleb leans in as you're changing books. "Hey," he says. "It's Lindsay, right?" His lips twitch. You give him Lindsay's most tired look. "You know my name, Caleb." "Right. Just making sure. Anyhow, I got this for you. I was going to slip it into your locker like a love note—" He jumps back and grins as you make a fist. "But here you are." He hands you a folded piece of paper. In his cramped hand it says, Joe and them are suggesting Mary Boucher or Michael Duncan for me. Thoughts? You look up in surprise. "Why them?" "You're all friends with Mary, right?" "Not best friends." You briefly consider the suggestion, but aren't really impressed with it. "But I assume you'd rather keep your dick intact." "Way to put it, Will," he growls. "So you think it should be the guy?" "Up to you. Except Michael's kind of a doofus. Now that I think about it, he'd be perfect for you." "Yeah, well, they're suggesting it 'cos this Duncan doofus has a crush on you." "The fuck?" you gasp. He shrugs. "That's what they say. Does he?" Oh God. Now that you think about it you can totally see why that would be a rumor. "Is that why they want you to—?" you choke out. "No, they just think he would fit in with them. Except if they're gonna be other people—" "I have to get to class," you interrupt him. "We'll talk, uh, this weekend or something." You rush off, your head in a whirl. You do give some thought to the suggestions that Caleb has brought you. But ultimately you decide to let your subconscious chew over it before you make a decision. Next: "Parties to a Plot" |
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