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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Unusual Suspects"  "Laurent!" you call out as the class rises as one at the end of first period. "Laurent!" Still the wrestler ignores you as he sweeps his backpack onto his broad shoulders. Probably he's ignoring you because he's grinning at Wendy Silbert. "Hey," you pant as you stagger up behind him. He does the tiniest of double-takes at you. "Hey, Prescott. Got yer paper done?" He winks at Wendy, who only returns him a very prim smile as she makes to go. "Paper?" you ask. "What?" Laurent settles his pack more firmly onto his shoulders, and looks blank as he turns his full attention on you. Laurent isn't very tall—he might even be a shade shorter than you—but he makes up for it in bulk and attitude. His chest and shoulders strain against the fabric of his gray t-shirt, and his trapezius muscles bulge. He has a dark complexion—rumor has it he's part Iroquois—with oil-black hair trimmed short, and coal-black eyes. His teeth shine very white in a wide mouth that splits easily into a cheeky grin. "You have a free period or anything today?" you ask him. "Like a study hall?" "Third period," he says. "That's perfect!" you exclaim. "Can we get together then?" Still he looks blank. "Sure. Come find me in the gym if you want. The classroom." "There's a classroom? Where's that?" The word gym has hit you like a hard slap of cold water across the face. "Under the weight deck." He looks vastly amused. "Just me and a coupl'a girls." He smiles and chucks you in the shoulder, then swaggers off. "What was that about?" Caleb asks when you rejoin him. He's been waiting by the door. "What's it to you?" "Not a fucking thing, I guess." "I'm looking for someone to hang out with third period." "You got class third period." "What's it to fucking you?" You dive out into the hallway and quickly lose yourself in the jostling crowed. * * * * * You hide in the G wing boys' restroom until the third-period tardy bell has rung, then make your way to the gym. You approach it from the back, circling around outside to come in from the student parking lot in order to avoid passing the main office, where you might get caught for being out of class without a hall pass. You can't believe you're going to all this trouble to meet up with Laurent, particularly as it sounds like he won't be alone. And—ugh—he's going to be in the gym. Under the weight deck, he said. The "weight deck" must be the mezzanine that separates the two basketball courts—Westside was built during a local craze for athletics and adolescent fitness—and you vaguely remember seeing a doorway into it back when you took P. E. classes, but you never thought anything of it. You find that door now, and thank God it's near the main entrance, so that you can dodge the gym class in progress. The doorway leads to a corner, around which is a long, carpeted hallway running the length of the mezzanine with doors on either side. The coaches' offices, you realize when you see the name plates on them. Somehow you'd always thought the gym teachers kept all their stuff—grade books and planners and teachers' whatnot—in the changing room lockers along with their grimy sneakers, mossy workout shorts, and filthy shirts. But one of the rooms does turn out to be a classroom. The door is open and voices spill out. Inside, half a dozen tables are arranged in a U shape, with a lectern and projection screen facing the open end. Sprawling across the tables at the other end are three students. One of them is Laurent. The other two are girls. You almost bolt back outside when you see who they are. You remember Bonny Trask and Josie Holden from your freshman P. E. class, which was split almost evenly between kids who were there because they enjoyed it and kids who were there because they had to take it. You were in the second group. Bonny and Josie were in the first. They didn't just like P. E., they were good at it, and you almost died of embarrassment at they way they outclassed you at everything. They're on the girls' soccer team now. They're all sitting close together, Laurent in the middle, with their books and notebooks out. But there doesn't seem to be any studying going on. Laurent has tipped his chair back to lean against the wall, and they've got their cell phones out. Laurent catches sight of you. "Hey, Will. Come on in!" Josie and Bonny look up at you. They're already grinning, so when they smile it's not like they're glad to see you. But at least the smiles don't fall off their faces. "You bring something to work on?" Laurent asks. You've got that crazy book with you, and that mask you made of Maria. That's what you wanted to talk to him about. But with Josie and Bonny here, you're not sure you want to break them out. And in the moment you hesitate, it's like Laurent forgets all about you. "Oh hey, you seen this?" he says, and falls forward to turns his phone to Josie. She lays her phone aside to raptly watch whatever he's showing her. She giggles and snerks. Bonny stretches over to watch too. Neither girl is shy, you notice, about brushing up against Laurent. You shuffle over to take a chair on the other side of Josie, who's the prettier of the two. Bonny is tall and kind of bony, with her hair pulled tightly back in an unflattering ponytail. Josie is smaller and softer all over, and her thick brown hair hangs freely over her ears and shoulders. She doesn't pay any attention to you, though, as you drop your bag on the table. "What are you guys looking at?" you ask. "Stuff," Laurent says. Josie and Bonny go back to their own phones as Laurent scrubs through whatever he was watching. "Here." He turns it around to show you. You lean forward to watch. You've just time to take in a shot of a fat kid slowly riding a skateboard before the picture changes. A woman in a kitchen is taking a tray of cookies out of the oven. As she turns around, a male voice off camera says, "Hey mom, think fast." The woman screeches and drops the tray with a clatter. The picture wobbles as whoever spoke starts laughing. Then the picture abruptly changes again, to a small boy hanging a spoon on his nose. "That's Ethan's mom," Laurent tells you as he takes his phone back. "You know, Nieves?" "That's his mom?" you echo, even though you can barely comprehend what you're supposed to have seen. "Not actually," Laurent says. He kicks his chair back against the wall again. "But that's what she's like. Looks like her too." Bonny bursts out laughing at something she's watching on her phone. Oh, I guess we're looking at random videos, you decide. Well, when in Rome ... You take out your own phone. * * * * * The next thirty minutes isn't a lot of fun. Everyone is watching and sharing snippets of videos, and they're every one a big hit. Except with you. Sure, videos of people falling over, or putting on funny glasses, or saying funny things, are kind of amusing, but they're not nearly as funny (you think) as Laurent and the girls seem to find them. Bonny and Josie shriek and giggle, and Laurent guffaws, but you don't see anything that deserves more than a smile. And as for the snippets that you share—which you admit aren't that funny either—at most they only earn a tight smile from the girls, and a curt "Funny" from Laurent. Eventually it dawns on you that there's some kind of private code or private joke being shared. Lots of them. "Christian," says Josie as she shows her phone to the others. "Kelly," says Bonny when she shares one of her own. "Dortch," says Laurent says of one he shares. And when that fact sinks in—that they are inside a circle and you aren't, that these videos are references to people and things you don't know or understand—you put your own phone away and take out some math homework to check. And for some reason that gets Bonny to notice you. "Hey, you have any old vines of yourself?" she asks, and it takes you a moment to realize she's talking to you. You shake your head. "Tss! Yes you have!" "What? No, I—" "Everyone does!" "I don't," you correct her. "What's your x2z handle?" You wince. "I don't go on there." Bonny shrieks. "Oh my God, are you a virgin?" You feel all the blood drain from your face, which makes it ten thousand times worse. Bonny and Josie almost fall out of their chairs laughing. Laurent grins and scratches himself under a pit. "Oh, fuck," he gasps. "No, man, that's smart o' you" he says, "staying outta that shithole." "Wai'wai'wai'wai'wait!" Bonny exclaims, and Laurent asks, "You showin' 'im that thread about Anita?" as she frantically starts thumbing at her screen. She shouts, "No!" and he says, "How come not?" "It's not—!" "Is this all you guys do?" you ask. "Look at vines and videos and memes?" "Yeah, sure." Laurent shrugs. "You should try making some," Josie tells you. There's the faintest sneer in her voice. "I bet you'd be funny at it." You clench your fists under the table. If you didn't know how stupid and childish it would look, you'd stalk out now. Bonny throws herself over the table to thrust her phone at you. Her grin almost splits her head in two. "Here!" she says. "Everyone makes embarrassing vines!" Laurent's face craters, and he lurches forward to grab the phone. "No!" It's too late. The screen shows him, in a tank top and shorts, dancing to a techno beat. He's wearing a long blonde wig, and he pauses every few seconds to make kissy faces at the camera. This is my guy to show that mask to, you decide in that instant. But what about Josie and Bonny? Next: "A Drive-By Ambush" |
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