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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "One Fire Lights, Another Goes Out"  Fuck him, you decide. Caleb may have volunteered to start helping you again, but it was only because you dangled Chelsea Cooper's cunny in front of him, not because he's interested in helping you out. You go the country club and work like a dog until closing. At least Trantham has a list of his Eastman customers for you when you see him. * * * * * Thursday morning. Soccer practice has ended and you're prowling the halls like a shark after a scent of blood. Walberg's class is in this wing. Matthias's locker is in this wing. Matthias has Walberg this period. Matthias will be somewhere here, and he's got something you want. You glimpse him up ahead, and the lust for blood throbs to life, with no more need of stroking. He's at his locker. But is it Matthias? Jesus, he's had a haircut, and it's neatly trimmed and combed into place. He's shaven, too, and that sport coat, is it covering a button down shirt? He's half turned and smiling down at another student. It's a girl, and her hair is long and brown. She half turns as someone jostles her. Huh, Katie Byrd. No surprise seeing her talking to Dane Matthias, they move in the same circles of underground music and tattoos and casual drug use. Bitch never paid any attention to you, though. She never paid attention to Will Prescott either. But she's paying attention to Matthias. Oh God, she just tucked her hair back, and stroked it as she did. She's flirting with him! Someone jostles you, but instead of rounding on them, you push forward toward Matthias. He'll regret your intervention, though not because it interrupts the flirtation. He'll probably be glad of that. It's got to be mortifying for Chelsea Cooper to have this nobody from the underbelly of the school flirting with her. God only knows how she's dealing with having a dick. Your smile widens. And it freezes as Dane Matthias tweaks Katie on the shoulder. He grins and puts his face close to hers. You stumble, and the crowd pressing behind almost pushes you to the ground. Chelsea Cooper is flirting back with Katie Byrd? You almost abandon your plan in favor of watching how things play out. But you're saved from making that choice by the sound of the bell. Dane glances up, then gives Katie another tweak. She edges around him, putting her palm on his back as she passes him. He turns to watch her go, and she looks back at him with shining eyes. Briefly her eyes meet yours, but your stare doesn't register, and she turns around again to head to class. Dane pulls a book from his locker, then closes it and twists the lock. You jump forward, slam one hand on the back of his neck and seize his belt by the other. He shrieks like a little girl as you hustle him hard and fast through the crowd. You hurl him at the doors, battering them open with his torso, and force him toward the portables at a trot. He burbles incoherently. On reaching the third portable on the south end you shove him face first into the wall and punch him hard in the kidney. "Where's the shit, Matthias?" you hiss in his ear. "B'gah!" he shrieks, sounding just like a chicken. You punch him again. "Where's the shit, Matthias? Where'd you put it, you fucked-up shit-for-brains?" You wheel him around, knee him in the balls, and kick his feet from under him as he bends double. You grab the hair on the back of his head and pound his face into the grass. "What did you do with it, asshole?" you scream at him one last time before letting go. He scrambles back weakly and looks up with tears in his eyes. A bloody stream runs down his upper lip, and he snorts and chokes. "Gary?" he says. Savagely, you kick the wall next to his head. "Yeah, it's me, you think it was Katie Byrd asking for a blow job? Where is it?" "Where's what?" He shrieks again as you kick him in the crotch, then kneel beside him with your hands at his throat. "I'm gonna ask one more time, you bubble-headed bai chi! Your fucking cousin, you see him yesterday? The fuck did he give to you to give to me?" Understanding dawns in his eyes. "Oh, you mean that briefcase?" You punch him in the chest. "That's right. Did you shove it up your ass, that's how come you didn't give it to me?" "I didn't know—! I mean, I just hadn't seen you yet!" He bites his lower lip and gazes back at you in terror. "Well, you're seeing me now, so how come I haven't got it?" You slap him, hard. "It's in my car! We can go—!" You haul him up and force him back toward the parking lot. No one stops you. The briefcase—the same one you gave to Dwayne—is in his front seat, and you tear it from his hands as soon as he's picked it up. "Next time," you tell him in a hoarse voice, and lean in close. "Next time your cousin gives you something to give to me, you fucking send me a text the moment you fucking shut off your car. Then you wait for me to show up. You get it?" He nods vigorously. "Good. This is the second time you've nearly fucked me over, Matthias. Third time it happens, I'll tear off your cock and your asshole, swap 'em out, and you can learn to shit through your cum pipe and fuck like a girl." You punch his car door with your knee, and he quails so hard he nearly folds in half. God, that felt good, you think as you strut back to the main building, to deposit the briefcase in your locker. It might be two weeks too late, but you finally got back at Chelsea for siccing her psycho boyfriend on you. * * * * * "You still need someone for Andrea?" Chelsea asks. She takes a demure sip from her diet cola. "I guess that means Thomason will be happy." A cold front came through last night, so instead of meeting poolside, you and Chen are back at Ben's BBQ. She's barely sipping the cola she ordered. You're ignoring the slab of carrot cake you bought. "Let's just say I got someone to cover for Andrea, and someone to cover for Seth," you say. "You don't wanna know more than that." "Fuckin' truth, bro," she says. "But here's how I figure you can take Seth." She leans forward. "Everyone on the squad is shitting themselves about Gordon, how he got on the stuff. Call Seth, tell him you can tell him all about it if he meets you out at the portables." "Not bad," you muse. "Except I don't want him knowing I'm mixed in this." "If it's Thomason or Kirkham who's taking over for him, they can make the call instead of you," she says shrewdly. "Of course, if it's Johansson—" "Someone can make the call," you counter. "Only it won't be me." Her eyes narrow. "Mm-kay," she says. "So that's Seth, and you can take care of him anytime. Tomorrow during school would be barely too late, as far as I'm concerned. For Andrea, you'll have to wait for the weekend." "Why's that?" "Because that's when she comes up to the school, to the natatorium, to swim." "Fuck, I didn't know that. You didn't either, man, must be—" "Chelsea knows fucking everything," she says. "You and your guy can bust in on her there. Here's a key." She extends you a ring with three keys on it. "I thought you said Patterson took these away from you," you say as you take it. "He took the one to the fuck room. I still get to keep the ones to the gym, and the natatorium, and the tennis courts." "Must be fucking nice. Is Andrea going to be alone in there?" "Maybe. I don't know. You'll just have to be careful going in." She dimples at you as she sips at her cola. And you eat the carrot cake thoughtfully. It's not a bad set of plans; and any improvements you can make won't be any of her business. "You're going to take care of Seth tomorrow, right?" Chelsea suddenly says in a very biting tone. "I can't set up for it by then." "You sure as fuck better, Prescott. Cindy is already sniffing around. That snap vote could come any day now. If not tomorrow, then definitely on Monday at the start of practice." The gleam in her eye turns into a fell flame. "Then I fuck Javits over the weekend." "Tomorrow," she says firmly. "If this glorious ass of mine gets booted curbside while you're still fucking around, I will make you regret it until the day you're as old and crazy as that old man crapping up your living room." You push the cake at her, and rise. "Then I better get started thinking of a way to make it work." * * * * * Fucking crazy cunt, you fume to yourself as you fire up the car buffer. You always knew Chen was psychotic. You were pretty sure Chelsea was psychotic. You had no idea how psychotic the combination of them could be. The buffer whines as it rubs over the surface of the mask. You need to make two of them, at least. That was the improvement you saw to the plan. You don't want Javits to connect either your face or Caleb's to his sudden body swap. Hence, you need a dummy face for Caleb to wear to that meeting. Best choice would be Kirkham, since he'd be believable as a thug with a secret to tell about Gordon's addiction. Then you remember that Caleb has that original mask of Chelsea. Surely Seth would be willing to meet with Chelsea in the portables, if she called him. And wouldn't it be to your advantage if Seth had a grudge against Chelsea Cooper, thinking she was behind his sudden transformation into Caleb Johansson? Next: "Jumping Javits" |
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