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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Can't Everyone Be Friends?"  You come this close to blowing your cover after school, when you charge into the library at Bhodi and Andy and Grant with the question Why the hell do want Caleb to be my boyfriend? on your lips. But when Andy looks up and says, "Hey Lindsay," you catch yourself in time. "You going out to that party tonight?" he asks. His eyes are dancing. "I can give you a ride." "Uh, yeah," you stammer. "That'd be great, thanks. What time?" "Eight-thirty? Are you dressing up?" The question almost flattens you. "No. Why would I have to dress up? It's not a formal, is it?" "Andy'll be dressing up," Grant sniggers. Bhodi nudges him as Andy reddens. "Okay," you tell him. "I'll wear a dress if you will." "I'll be putting on a dress." Grant sinks with suppressed laughter. Bhodi murmurs, "I'm gonna fuck you up." Yeah, Bhodi's got the right idea. These twerps are all but confessing their upcoming body-theft spree to Lindsay. Of course, you can't tip off that you know what they're up to, so you just tell Andy he can pick you up around eight, then tell them that you have to go find Evie. You try to ignore the snickers that echo behind as you exit the library. * * * * * "Dressing up" for Lindsay means a nice blouse and nice jeans and no hat and her hair pulled back in a braid. You surrender to the wince that she would give herself as she studies herself in the mirror. Her face is too flat and fat to do anything with, and her legs too short for a dress and high heels, and she has no idea what to do with her hair. Not like Hannah, not like Perfect Older Sister, who with a little makeup, some stylish frames, a few strategically placed barrettes and some strappy high-heeled sandals can make herself into a smart and sexy professional educator who all the freshmen boys drool over. (So you've heard.) Still, you keep your head up and your lips curved into your best approximation of a smile as Andy pulls up into the driveway. He's in a long-sleeve button-down shirt and pressed jeans. You're instantly consumed by jealousy. How come guys only have to put on clean-limbed clothes to look awesome? Andy isn't even all that great-looking, but he'll have girls flirting with him at the party anyway. "You look really nice," you tell him. "Thanks, so do you." "Oh, please. I don't have anything to wear." A mischievous smile slides up the side of his face. "You could go without anything on, make an entrance that way." You punch him in the thigh. "Are we picking anyone else up?" "Everyone except Bhodi and Paulina, they're going separately." Of course they are, you think. "And Justin, he's not going." "How come?" "Something came up." You wonder if it had anything to do with Ethan Clayborne, the guy he was going to meet up with after school. But you say nothing about that. So everyone else turns out to be Evie and Grant and Joe, but also Michael Duncan, to your surprise and discomfort. He is pathetically attentive to you all the way out to Laura's house. But it's worth it to see the expression on Laura's face when you and he and everyone else come piling in through her front door. You can see it her eyes, the intense temptation to say, You weren't invited, and the fury when she realizes that she's not brave enough to. You go out of your way to compliment Laura on the beauty of the house. Michael, who is probably trying to be sincere, follows your lead, and Laura's eyes almost start bleeding with suppressed humiliation. * * * * * It's a well-organized party with dance music, open spaces, and plenty of food, so you have to credit Laura that far. She can't be credited for the entertainment, though. You're sitting on a sofa between Paulina and Michael, with Bhodi on the other side of Paulina, when the it starts. You're not paying attention to anything in particular—not even the Seven-Up you're sipping and the ice you're chewing, or the music that's drumming off the four walls and ceiling, drowning all sounds of conversation—when you notice Ethan Clayborne trudge in from the kitchen. It's hard to miss Ethan. He's not a giant—he's of ordinary stature and only somewhat muscular build. But he can fill and dominate a space by only planting his feet and putting his hands on his hips. And when he walks, it's like watching big cat prowling the floor. Ethan is a wrestler, so maybe that's why he knows how to hold himself. Even in the jeans and button-up shirt (sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms) he exudes strength. He's very handsome, too, with even features and large, slate-blue eyes. His brown hair is thick and wiry, and curls in stiff waves over his ears and the top of his neck. The zits on an upper cheek only give his otherwise smooth skin some texture. Anyway, it's hard not to notice him as he stands in the entryway to the living room, glancing around with an alert eye. A faint smile twitches onto his lips as his gaze settles on Andrew Webb, who is perched on the arm of a sofa along the other wall and laughing with his friends Elijah and Aaron. With a cowboy's confident swagger, Ethan walks over and drops a hand on Andrew's shoulder. Andrew jerks around and looks up as Ethan bends to murmur in his ear. Andrew sucks in a cheek as he listens, then jerks upright and breaks into a smirk. Ethan grins back at him, then leads him out of the living room and up the staircase. Andrew's eye and face are shining brightly as he follows, bouncing on the balls of his feet. They disappear onto the second floor. You wouldn't give much thought to this—a couple of boys going off to corner some girls or to break into some hard liquor, probably—except that Andy Jensen drifts in from another room to stand at the foot of the staircase and gaze up it. He stares, and you watch him stare, and you watch as he slowly ascends the staircase. Halfway up he pauses, goes up on tiptoes, and cranes his neck. He bounces on his feet. Then he rushes all the way up. There would be nothing to connect Ethan and Andrew to Andy except— A chill rushes down your spine. Ethan and Andrew are two of your friends' targets. And Andrew is slated to be Andy's impersonation. No. It can't be, you think. Andy wouldn't be so stupid as to think he could catch and replace Andrew here, at a party, with all these kids around. Not with Lindsay around. You turn away, and guzzle your Seven-Up thoughtfully. No, Andy's going up there to spy on them. To try getting a taste of things to come. He didn't have anything in his hand; and besides, he definitely couldn't do anything as long as Ethan is— You almost choke on an ice cube. Justin was going to meet up with Ethan after school—that's what he said in the library this morning. And he didn't come out to the party. Or did he? What if that isn't Ethan Clayborne? What if Ethan has already been replaced? What if he is luring—? You wheel on Paulina. "Who got us the invite out here?" you mutter in her ear. You have to repeat the question, for the music is deafening. "I think it was Ethan," she tells you, putting her lips so close to your ear that they tickle. "Laura wanted Ethan to come, because of course she did," she continues when you press her. "Then I think he ran into Justin or somebody and was all, like, you guys should come out too." You feel the blood draining from your face. Was that really Ethan who got you and your friends invited? He's not really a friend of any of your friends, but it sounds like the kind of thing that Justin would do—if he was impersonating Ethan. But when would he have had time to get himself in for Ethan? Oh my God, you think. What if that really wasn't Justin in the library this morning? You're still puzzling it out when a movement at the foot of the staircase catches your attention. Joe and Grant are talking there and checking their phones, and occasionally glancing up the staircase. Long minutes pass, and you're about to conclude that they're up to nothing when Andy comes running down. They catch him and slap at him and laugh; he blushes and hangs his head, trying to pull away. Then someone trips over your feet: Bhodi, loping over to his friends. He catches Andy by the arm and says something; Andy shrugs and darts his eyes all about. The others try hanging onto him, but he pulls away and runs off toward the front door. The other three chortle but don't follow. You feel like you should look away, that you should get up and get a refill, that you should be anyplace but right here, right now, looking right at them, in case they catch you. So with your neck muscles creaking you turn your head and go back to watching the room. But still you watch them out of the corner of your eye even as you settle your gaze on Andrew's friends, Elijah and Aaron, who are talking to a couple of guys on the JV football squad. You turn your head to watch more directly when Ethan and Andrew come down the staircase, Ethan with his arm hanging around Andrew's shoulders. Bhodi and Grant and Joe look up at them. Andrew, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, smirks as he falls into their company, and he squirms as Grant runs a hand over his buzz-cut hair. Then Andrew Webb and Bhodi Weaver—guys who can't stand each other—clasp each other's hands and grin into each other's faces. Next: "Fatal Flirtations" |
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