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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Surprise Invites"  You pick up the book. The dust jacket shows a pile of straw with a skull and a cloth doll propped up next to it. The title, in white letters rimmed with black, is The Vodou Spellbook. "So what's this?" you ask. Stephanie snatches it from your hand. "It's mine," she says, and she shoots Katy a hard glance as she shoves the book into her own backpack. "Katy was borrowing it." "You into voodoo?" you blurt out. "Research." Stephanie's attitude, so friendly a moment ago, has turned icy. "For Halloween. Getting party ideas." She darts her eyes about the table. "So what are we working on first?" she asks. "English?" No one says anything, and a reek of embarrassment settles on the group. "So maybe we should split up," Stephanie says after the silence has turned awkward. "Will, we could start with Mr. Cash's class. I definitely need some help in there." She hauls up her backpack and with a jerk of her chin gestures you to join her at another table. A cold feeling washes over you, but you stagger to your feet and follow. A numb spot forms around your heart, and when you glance over your shoulder you see Katy watching you go with wide eyes. Stephanie takes you a couple of tables over, and—intentionally or not—makes you sit with your back to everyone else. She unpacks her books silently, and you follow suit. But the third item you pull from your bag isn't a textbook or a notebook. It's that mask. With a small groan, you remember that you were going to drop it off at the elementary school, and clean forgot. "What's that thing?" Stephanie's question jerks you back to the present. She nods at the mask. "Oh. Erm. Art project." "Yeah, what class?" "No class. Just a thing I'm working on." You start to put it back in your bag. But Stephanie darts out a hand. "Lemme see," she says. And since you've always been so goddamned intimidated by her, you let her take it. She holds it up and studies it with a look of concentration, turning it around and over. "Is it a mask?" she asks. "It needs eyeholes." "Well, if you're going to wear it," you say. "What else would you do with it? Oh, maybe hang it on a wall? Is it like a wall decoration?" "I dunno. I, uh, haven't decided." "It's pretty good work. What's it made out of? You carve it or something?" "No, I, uh, used a mold. It's got a complicated, uh, recipe." "Oh, you got like a craft book? What's this?" She points to a spot on the cheek. "It's got a blemish." "No, that's where I'm polishing it. It's supposed to turn blue when you polish it." "Like with a stone polisher?" "A what? No, I'm just using a, uh, handkerchief." Stephanie gives you a very direct stare. "You're kidding, right? Is that what that book says to do? Use a handkerchief?" "It's an old book." You feel yourself blushing. "Huh. Well, if it was me, I'd use a stone polisher. Or a car buffer. Does it take a long time?" "It feels like forever." "Huh. Well, do what you want." She hands the mask back to you, and resumes unpacking her stuff. * * * * * After that, it's thirty minutes of reviewing the Ptolemaic, Copernican, and Keplerian models of the solar systems. Stephanie tackles it with a grim intensity, but the air between you thaws as you take turns quizzing each other on the material. She gives you a dirty look—though there's a twinkle in her eye—when you show yourself a better master of it. "Bastard," she mutters, but somehow it sounds like a compliment. Then you switch off, with Stephanie returning to the table with the girls and Caleb moving over to your table to do some Calculus. But he's more interested in teasing you about Stephanie. "How's your date with her going?" he chortles softly. "It's not a date!" "That's not what you told me this afternoon. Didn't you come over here to play footsie with her?" "No! I don't know why she dragged me over here." You glance back at Katy, who seems to be in earnest conversation with Stephanie. You hesitate, but decide not to tell Caleb about the real set-up. "Except to study for Mr. Cash's class." "Dude, she was waiting for you to kiss her on the lips." "Shut. Up." After another thirty-minute interval, the girls call you back to their table, but only briefly. "We're moving over to The Flying Saucer," Stephanie tells you. "It's boring here. Will, can you take someone? We're going to carpool over, I'll take everyone else." "Yeah. Um." You freeze under Stephanie's unwinking stare, feeling like a bird that's been hypnotized by a snake. Your throat tightens and your voice turns very thick. "I'll, uh, take ... Katy?" You wrench your eyes from Stephanie. "I think Caleb wants—" "That's cool," Stephanie says. "Meet you over there." She swings her pack onto her shoulder and turns away. Meghan and Kristy follow, and Caleb saunters along too. He shoots you a mirthful glance over his shoulder, and you feel yourself blushing to your roots. Your knees are locked, and your feet feel bolted to the floor. "So," you stammer out to Katy. "I've got a truck." "That'll get us there," she says. You notice that her complexion is now more pink than peach. "You like The Flying Saucer?" "It's okay. They're all okay. They're all kooky. Except for Starbucks." "Starbucks is boring." "You like occult stuff? Is that why you had a voodoo book?" "That was Stephanie's." Katy ducks her chin, and her eyes dart about. "I'm not supposed to talk to you about that," she says with an embarrassed grin. "Oh, is that what she told you?" You can't help grinning back at her. "She doesn't want you spoiling some Halloween prank?" "Something like that." She turns even more pink. "We should go." You fall in next to her. You're tempted to link your arm with hers, but you restrain yourself as, side by side, you walk out the lobby to the parking lot. You don't share any classes with Katy, so you inquire about her schedule and tell her about yours. Except for her AP English class, her schedule seems even lighter than yours: a junior-level Physics class, a French-for-Reading-Knowledge class, and a basic government class. But she's also taking Plants and Soils. "On account of my parents," she says. "Can you tell I'm wrinkling my nose?" It's dark in the cab of your truck, so you can't. "You don't like it? Do you live on a farm?" "Practically. We own a nursery south of town. CC Nursery and Landscaping?" "Oh, I know where that is! I was out there just a few days ago, bought some, uh—" Too late you restrain yourself. "Potting soil." "Oh, do you have a green thumb?" "Hardly. It was, uh, for my mom. An errand." Actually, it was for that spell you've left burning in the elementary school basement. "So, do you have a green thumb?" "No. But my dad still keeps trying to hire me on there. He doesn't want it to be 'chores', he says, so he won't make me. But he really wants me to learn the business." "Wow, that's just like my dad," you exclaim. "Except he doesn't own the place he works, but he keeps pestering me to take a job there." It's like a bolt of electricity has gone shooting across the dark cab, and you dart a glance over at Katy. By the dim street lamps and headlights of the traffic, you see that she's grinning back at you. Talking quickly, sometimes at the same time, you commiserate about hectoring parents and their expectations. You're chatting like long-time friends by the time you enter The Flying Saucer, and hardly even notice the amused glances that you get as you join the others. There's no question of "studying" anymore, and you all sit around the table with coffees, talking and laughing. You are vaguely aware that Caleb has muted his usual honk, but you're too busy telling Katy about your "Film as Literature" class to pay too much attention to the rest of the table. She asks if you've watched any horror movies in there. "I like horror movies," she says. "She's lying," Stephanie interjects with a sharp smile—one of the few times at the Saucer that she says anything to you. "She's just telling you that 'cos she figures you do." So it's a fun time until the Saucer closes, when you give Katy a ride back to the library. "I think your friend kind of hit it off with Meghan," she says. "Who, Caleb? I didn't notice." She titters. "We should all get together to study there more often." "You mean at a coffee shop?" One thought leads to another, and you think of that voodoo book. "You like weird things, like that voodoo book?" "I told you, that's Stephanie's." "I don't picture her being into voodoo." "I'm not supposed to tell you about it, but it's for a prank. You know Hannah Westrick? She's on the soccer team? She's dating Marc Garner?" Her tone grows more exasperated with each shake of your head. "Anyway, we're going to prank her." "Why?" "'Cos no one likes her. Well, Marc does. Lots of guys like her, I guess, on account of she's, well—" Katy breaks off. "Anyway, Stephanie and some of her friends from the soccer team are going to get back at her. Scare her." "For what?" Katy relates a vague story of jealousy and wrong-doing. Hannah Westrick came over from Eastman, joined the soccer team, and has been causing problems ever since. This prank is to teach her to know her place. "And you're using voodoo on her?" Your skin prickles. "Well, not real voodoo, 'cos voodoo's not real. Except, maybe, psychologically. But it's creepy, and we want to creep her out." Next: "It Could Be Magic" |
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