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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Return to Self"  Things are awkward between you and Kelsey that afternoon—it's hard for you, at least, to look at her and think about the things that you did in her body—and you assume it's the same for her. Talk is stilted, even after you've gone to the Milagro Beanfield Warehouse to unwind in the back with some coffee. You have the sinking feeling that both of you are going to wind up slinking back into old habits and old ways. When Kelsey sighs and leans back in her booth, you can easily anticipate what she's going to say: That was weird, Will, but it's over with. I think we should just forget it ever happened. And you, being Will Prescott again, will hang your head and go along with it. And maybe that would be for the best. It wasn't you being Will Prescott for the last week. Would it really be possible for you to carry on what Kelsey has started? But maybe you carried just a little bit of her back with you, because you get a hard, flinty feeling in your chest. "I'm not going to go back to the way things were," you tell her before she has the chance to pre-empty you. She looks up at you with querulous frown, and her eyes dart away. "What do you mean?" "I mean— Remember at the donut shop the other day? What if 'bang', we go back to normal? What would we want? Would we want to go back to the way things were, or keep the changes?" "Right." "Well, I'm keeping the changes." You pluck at the shirt and touch the brim of your hat. Kelsey stares at you, then smiles. "I'm glad. I told you, the look suits you." "Alright. And you know—" Your throat tightens. "You should make your own choices. You don't have to go along with what I did, what I was doing. What I told your friends, about them and about us. You can tell your friends that Saturday night, with me, was a mistake—" "Oh, for fuck's sake, Will," Kelsey says in a very tight voice. "Why would I tell them that?" Because it was? "Don't you think it was a mistake?" you ask. "No!" "So why do you look so miserable?" Twin tears roll down either side of her nose. "Because I was worried that you'd think it was!" she says. "A mistake." You can hardly believe that Kelsey would say that. Even in your new duds, you feel like a slacker. And Kelsey is so stylish. She even had Steve Patterson for a night! (Well, you did. She could have had him just as easily.) But she's worried that you would reject her? You stretch across the table to cover her hand with yours. She twitches her fingers around yours. "It was the hardest thing ever," you tell her, "trying to keep up with you. Trying to keep up pretending to be you, and trying to keep up with you pretending to be me. But I liked it." "I liked slowing down, when I was in your boots," she admits. "I'd like a faster life." "I'd like a slower one." "Meet you in the middle?" you ask. She smiles through eyes bleared with tears. "I was hoping that's what you'd ask." * * * * * So there it is. The next day, at school, you spend as much time talking to each other as possible, in class and at each other's lockers. In the cafeteria at lunch, Kelsey sits with her friends but down at the end of the table instead of the middle, with you beside her. There are no public displays of affection, save for some careful touching and discreet smooching. She sees less of her friends, save for her Saturday night parties, which you are invited to. At first you are daunted a little by the coldness shown by Mansfield and the other guys, but you quickly decide to let them fuck themselves, and spend most of those nights on a sofa, curled up with Kelsey, relaxing and sharing a couple of bowls. You also start to work out more. It feels good. And those body-swapping witches? Maybe Eva and Jessica had something to do with it, and maybe they didn't. Maybe it wasn't even them, because a week or so after you and Kelsey return to normal, they suddenly become very grumpy and start acting like a couple of fumble-footed amnesiacs. You and Kelsey talk about asking them if something funny happened to them, but decide not to. Things have worked out, and it seems best not to rock the boat you have found yourselves in. The End |
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