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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Complicated Love Life of Lindsay Cho"  Michael has to park half a block down and across the street from Kaylee's because there's too many cars piled up in her driveway and jammed up in front of her house. "How many people are coming out for this thing?" you ask in awed tones. "Like, the whole school," Michael replies. "I think the guys were inviting everyone." Must be everyone if it includes us, Lindsay whispers in the back of your head. You glance at Evie to see her reaction: Her face is shining and her eyes are glinting. Well, sure she's excited, you reflect as you get out of the car. It's a party at Kaylee Mercier's house, and there's going to be guys like Andrew Webb and Ethan Clayborne and girls like Leslie Osbourne and Avery Ayala and who knows who else there. This isn't a normal after-school thing for girls like her or you. You ring the doorbell, but Michael shoves you aside and just pushes the door open. The foyer leads right into a living room, and as you enter three kids your age go sauntering past. You grab at Evie. The skinny blonde guy in the white t-shirt and designer sunglasses? That's Aaron James! You've never been to the kind of party where Aaron James shows up! But he doesn't acknowledge you as he passes, he just tosses an arm over the shoulders of— Is that Amber Hartsel? If it is, did she drive, or did she ride one of her family's prize stallions over? You glance again at Evie. Her cheeks are now glowing like apples, and the light dances in her eyes as she returns your astonished stare. "Oh man," Michael says. He cranes his neck. "So where—?" He advances toward an archway leading into a dining room, where you can just make out a cluster of more people crowded around the table. But your trio is intercepted by Ethan, who saunters in from another hallway. "Oh hey," he rumbles, and a gleam of obvious interest shows in his eyes as he looks over each of you, one by one. "Party's downstairs." He jerks his head back the way he came. "Drop your books, make a space. Want something to drink? I'm gettin' stuff anyway." Evie asks for something diet; you and Michael will take regular colas, any flavor. You feel tongue-tied as you trail your friends back the way Ethan came, following the softly pulsing music that pulses up from the bottom of a narrow staircase. It leads you down into a huge basement. A really huge basement. It must take up the entire footprint of the house above, and it's been completely redecorated as a giant recreation room. There's a bar with six stools and a row of taps against one wall; a pool table and a foosball table against the far wall; a weight set and two exercise bikes in a corner; and three dumpy sofas make a U in front of a big-screen TV. The floor is concrete, but there's thick, ugly, cheap bolts of carpet scattered like rugs over it. And crawling and crouching and squirming all over the floor and furniture are dozens of high school kids. Guys in shorts and t-shirts. Guys in jeans and hoodies. Girls in shorts and halter tops. They've spread books and papers out among and between them, and a few of the kids—sprawling on their sides or stomachs—are actually leaning over them with pencils and pens. But most are sitting cross-legged against the furniture or draped over the couches, and no one seems to be actually reading or working. They're all laughing and talking and brushing against each other, craning over to share cell phones or bags of chips. Five burly guys—football players or wrestlers by the looks of them—are studying the pool table as one of them leans across it with a cue to click a ball into a pocket; the foosball table is also taken with two guys—Bhodi being one of them, you recognize to your surprise—while a small crowd watches. The air buzzes and rumbles with talk and laughter, and thumps to the beat of soft music. "Evie!" someone calls. It's Kaylee Mercier—a fit, tanned, blonde goddess-in-training; a kind of Chelsea Cooper in waiting—and she waves from the floor and beckons your friend over with a grin. "I heard you were coming out!" She pats the floor beside her. Way to blow your cover, Grant, you think. Since when does Kaylee Mercier know who Evie Cummings is? You and Michael follow her over. Too late you see the trap: Andrew Webb smirks up at you from Kaylee's side, and before you can back away he lightly grabs your wrist. You pull away, then give up and settle down next to him. "Awesome, you made it," he says, and leans in so close you can smell the spicy cinnamon on his breath. He rubs a bare arm—he's in a muscle shirt—up against you before settling back. "Wouldn't miss it," you reply, and glance around the circle. Besides Kaylee (Grant) and Andrew (Andy), there's Leslie Osbourne (Mrs. Matthias) and Kaylee's best friend, Wendy Adler, and Andrew's best friend, Aaron Riggs. When Ethan (Justin) drops into the only empty space in the circle and leans across to hand you and the others your drinks, you think, Yeah, there's no way they were going to let me and Evie and Michael sit with anyone else. This is the hot, molten center of the sophomore class, the crown of its Mount Olympus. It leaves you feeling very exposed. What's everyone else going to think of someone like you hanging out with kids like these? But "everyone else" seems to be too wrapped up in all kinds of other business—phones and flirting—to pay any attention to you. "Whadja bring with you?" Andrew asks. He jerks a chin at your backpack. "Homework. Isn't it supposed to be a homework party?" He giggles—a squeal like a pig that's being tickled. "What it's supposed to be," he agrees. "Need any help with it?" He touches your pack, but you push him away to unzip it yourself. "Know anything about math?" you ask as you lug a massive textbook out. "Sure, I'm— Wait, is that algebra?" He bursts out laughing. "You're taking Algebra One?" But he just as quickly shuts himself up when you glare at him. "Sorry," he says. "But weren't you supposed to take it last year? That's when—" "I had a schedule conflict last year, okay?" "Oh. Well, I can definitely help you out with it." "Dude," Ethan rumbles in his resonant baritone. "Didn't you get like a fifty-nine on our last math quiz?" "Eat a cock. Mrs. Oliver, like, cold-cocked me on that quiz. And I'm doing better in there. Got a ninety-five on last Thursday's homework," he brags. "Who did it for you?" "Eat. A. Cock. But that's geometry." He rolls onto his side so he can smirk directly into your face. "I'm, like, an algebra genius." So you open your book and take out your homework and you let him help you with it. You have to pretend to be a lot worse at it than you actually are—you got good math grades back when you were a freshman, and actually sort of cared about this stuff—and Andrew turns out to be pretty good at explaining it, probably because he's got Andy Jensen's brain, and Andy is very good at math. But he keeps pressing up against you, and you feel your face burning when you catch Kaylee leaning over with a smile to whisper in Ethan's ear. He snickers, and he grins over at you with a glint in his eye. * * * * * There are plenty of snacks, but snacks are no substitute for supper, and so a handful of people are deputized to make a food run. Money is collected, and Michael (being someone with a car) is volunteered to help fetch; you volunteer to go with him, and Andrew volunteers himself to go along too. But while he's in the bathroom, you hustle Michael out the door and into the car before he can join you. "'Z'amatter with you, man?" Michael laughs. "Andrew's gonna think you're not into him." "I don't care! I wanna talk! What did Kaylee want to talk to you about?" At one point, she had dragged him off for a conference under the transparent excuse that she needed his help getting something down from a kitchen cabinet. "A new face. No point in me being Michael if you're gonna be sucking face with Andrew." "I'm not—! Fuck you, man!" "Come on, Will. He's totally into you." You shove him hard enough to stagger him, but he only laughs. "Well, I want a new face too," you fume, and slump deeper into the passenger seat "Andy's not gonna take no for answer, and I don't want—" "God damn it, Will!" You look over in surprise at Caleb's expostulation. "How many fucking faces are you going to go through before you stop on one?" "Until I find one hat Andrew's not gonna—! Look, I thought Lindsay was going to be it! Okay? Really. But it turns I don't need to be her any more, not if those guys are going crowd up around her." And not if Andrew's gonna try crawling all over her. "Christ. So are you gonna go back to being Dane?" "Fuck no. Look, I want you to tell the guys that you were talking to me— To Dane, you know. And tell them I said I was going nuts pretending to be him without having any of my old friends around. So I told you I decided I wanted to move down into the sophomore class with you all. So who are you going to be? Whadja tell Kaylee?" "I told her I'd think about it. It's gonna be someone back there, that's for sure." "Like that narrows it down. Was that all you talked to her about? 'Cos you were gone forever." Leaving me alone with Andrew, you add in silent, bitter protest. "Well, we had to talk a little about the plan." "What plan?" "The plan they got, for taking over all the popular kids." He glances over at you. "Come on, Will, you must'a noticed by now." Next: "The Sophomore Scheme" |
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