%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "In Which "Freaky Friday" Gets Another Remake"  After retrieving your car from the high school, you drive out to Blackwell's villa. He isn't there, but you go inside to wait. You are working in the library, under its shadows and the staring eyes of its stuffed animals, with the dusty smell of old leather in your nostrils and the discordant clash of the grandfather clocks in you ears, when he arrives. "Ah, it is good to see you again, Miss Saito," he says as he glances through the doorway before passing deeper into the house. "But," he continues when he returns after depositing his book bag and jacket in another room, "am I to infer that this is only a temporary return to form?" "Yep," you grunt as you scrape a rune into the newly cast metal band; it will attach to the newly cast mask on the table nearby. "I told you I wanted to change aliases." "Finished your fun with the mother?" Blackwell asks in a dry voice. "Yes," you lie. (What does it matter to him if Chelsea and her mother are now stuck impersonating each other?) "Except it gave me a lead on who I want to impersonate. It's a guy up at the university, son of the, uh, mother I was pretending to be. He's on campus all the time, so it'd be easy for him—for me, I mean—to get in to see you up at your office if I needed to. And he might be taking a class from you." "What's his name?" "Jordan Cooper. He's a lacrosse player, a sophomore." "Mm. The name is not familiar. But I understand the choice, and I approve of the thinking behind it. Does he live on campus?" "No, he lives with his family, but he's in and out whenever he likes. He's not tied down." "Excellent. Come around after you have, ah, made the move, and we'll examine your choice more closely. Although," he adds as he sees your frown, "I don't anticipate any objections." "Okay." You lower your head and return to making the mens. "There was another reason I decided to pick him." "Yes?" You hesitate, because you're on the verge of giving Blackwell a reason to veto your choice. But you plunge on. "Well, I know you warned me off of your other assistant. Lucy. You said it would be a bad idea for us to work together. But she's in college too, you know." "Yes?" "And so I was just figuring that if you ever did need for us to meet or get together, it would be easier to set it up if I was being a college student too. So that's all." You shrug stiffly. "It was more of an afterthought, really." You are now so embarrassed that you can't raise your eyes to meet Blackwell's. He doesn't speak for some time either. "That's not a bad idea," he says at last. "Yes, I did warn you about becoming entangled with her, didn't I? But that was for professional reasons—a work hazard—not out of any, ah, personal principle." You freeze in mid stroke. "But her, ah, project interests have recently evolved, and so have yours since I issued that warning, and I hereby withdraw those earlier objections." You look up to gape at him. "In fact," the professor continues with a speculative expression as he studies you, "I think it would be well and good for you children to become acquainted." The words dry up in your throat, so after a pause the professor continues. "What did you say the young man's name was?" "Jordan. Cooper. He's a lacrosse player." Blackwell's brow furrows. "So you mentioned. Why do you mention it again?" "Just because," you stammer. "Because it would, uh, make it look even less ... funny ... if we, we—Lucy and me—we met up on campus." You feel yourself blushing hotly. Blackwell's expression softens. "Will," he says, "I understand why you might say that. But if you believe Lucy can't appreciate you in your, ah, 'native form', then you are underestimating both yourself and her. She is an intelligent girl, and I have the very firm impression that she admires intelligence in others." Blackwell ends by giving you a very knowing look. You make no reply, but you think: PROFESSOR BLACKWELL, ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE? Everything you've seen or heard about Lucy Vredenburg says that she's only interested in good-looking guys who keep themselves in great shape and who know how to party. The idea that she'd be interested in a guy who looks like you, or who has your interests, is totally nuts. And yet, argues a little, niggling voice in the back of your head, she's working for Blackwell. Maybe she's got a taste for magic, too. And maybe, that voice continues as you numb all over, she likes the power that comes with it. And is turned on by guys who can wield that power. Is there anything else that can explain that she is working for a guy like Blackwell? Perhaps the professor is reading your mind, for with a waggish smile he says, "Apply yourself, Will, and the young lady is apt to be impressed." With that exhortation he turns and in his squeaking shoes exits the library. * * * * * Will groans when you show up later that evening on his doorstep with the blank mask and orders to polish it. You cut him some slack, for he really does look exhausted, and tell him that you want it polished by Saturday morning, for you figure a weekend is the best time to try catching Jordan Cooper. But how you are to get close to him? Yumi hardly knows him. Later that night, when you're back at the Saito's, you knock on her brother's open bedroom door and look in. Mokichi looks up from his desk, where he's slouching with his cell phone. "Hey," you say. "You remember Jordan Cooper from when you guys were in high school?" Mokichi visibly bristles. He's a runner, with a wiry build and a shock of coffee-dark hair that picks up more static electricity than a cat's fur coat, so when he bristles every muscle in his arms and neck stands out, and the tips of his hair stiffen and rise. "Yeah," he says. The word shoots out from the back of his throat past frozen lips. "Well, do you ever see him around up at the college?" "No." You give him a look. "Well, don't just gas on about him, okay? Give me a chance to get a word in edgewise!" Mokichi's coal-black eyes flash, but he says nothing. You sigh. "So there's no way you could set it up so I can meet him up with him?" Mokichi stares. "The fuck would you wanna do that for?" "To talk to him. Jesus, what else do you think I'd want to do? Eugh! I want to talk to him about his sister, is all. Apparently I've got as big a problem with her as you do with him, but at least I could try talking to him about her!" Mokichi's thumb dances across the face of his cell phone even as he holds your eye. "If we don't neither of us get along with them, maybe we should both stay away from them," he says. You roll your eyes. "Hard to do when you're on the same cheerleading squad together!" When he makes no reply, you whirl on your heel and stomp off to your bedroom. For the rest of the night, as you finish Yumi's homework and relax online, you at every moment expect Mokichi to knock and enter with a phone number or a text or a message, but he never does. * * * * * You're up at school bright and early the next morning, eager for a look at the results of your magical meddling. You had one bad moment as you were dressing after your shower, when your phone dinged with a news alert, and you had a sudden and horrible premonition of a just-breaking story of a four-person murder-suicide at the home of Rob and Kelly Cooper, but it was just a flash-flood alert. (This will be the fourth day of steady rain in Saratoga Falls.) You have to suppress a small squeak of anticipation as you step into the gym. The east court, where the basketball team has pre-class practice, is empty as you cross it to take a seat on the risers facing the entrance to the girls' changing room, and you settle in with one eye cocked on the door and the other on the screen of your cell phone. Michelle Estrich—the one "unpopular" girl on the cheerleading squad—comes in first, followed by the Garner sisters, who fail to spot you. Then the basketball players, wet from the showers and steaming with testosterone, come swaggering out of the boys' changing room in small packs. Gordon Black and Steve Patterson, the alpha assholes who run the team, are the last to emerge. The timing is perfect. As they reach the doors, Chelsea comes in. She does a double take at Gordon, and even from the other side of the gym you see her eyes widen. Gordon says something to her, then bends down to put his face to hers. His hand goes to her bust. For a moment they hold this pose. Then Chelsea leaps upon him, wrapping her legs around his waist and clutching him by the shoulders. She burrows her mouth into his. Next: "The Changed Cheerleader" |
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
