The Book of Masks (Vol. 3)

A Girl Who Likes Mischief

Previously: "Ambush from an Unexpected Quarter" 

"So what's the deal?" you ask Caleb. "What were you doing out here?"

Caleb glances at Sydney. "We were driving around, looking for a place to hang out after we left Catherine's. We wound up here, walked around, talked." He keeps glancing over at her, as if gauging whether he's saying too much. "We happened to scope out the basement through the window—"

"Happened to?"

Caleb shrugs. "I mentioned we used to hang out here, that you had a key to get in. We couldn't get in, but we looked through the window and saw there was a fire going."

"Huh. Well, I don't—"

"Can I see the key again a minute, Will?" Sydney says. Her smile fails to connect with her eyes, and your hand feels hot as you fumble the key to her.

"Yeah, we were just sort of hanging out and chanced to notice it, is all," Caleb muses.

But you're watching Sydney. She turns the key over and over between her fingers, peering at it. Then she marches down to the door again and slips it into the lock. She jiggles it, withdraws it, then studies it and the lock side by side.

The lock is a dull silver, but the key is a grimy copper. Though it's the right make for the lock, it certainly doesn't look like it goes with the lock, and your breath shortens.

But Sydney returns it to you with nothing more challenging than another chilly smile.

"So are we all gonna hang out or something?" you ask around the lump in your throat.

Caleb looks at Sydney. "I'd love to, sweetie," she tells him, "but there's some stuff I have to do this afternoon." She touches him on the arm.

You catch Caleb by the elbow as he follows her back to her SUV. Sweetie? you mouth at him. He pales and jerks away.

It looks like there's some kind of conversation between them after they clamber back in her SUV, and you wind up driving off first. You notice Sydney behind you, and after you're in your driveway you watch in the rearview mirror as she passes slowly down the street. You pull thoughtfully at your ear before going inside, and turn down a movie invite from Keith in order to ponder the state of things.

* * * * *

You're back in the basement a few hours later, cleaning up and clearing out any incriminating evidence—except for the dirt pile, which you've relit—when your cell phone goes off with a text from Sydney McGlynn: Hey Will I got done early with my things. Can we meet and talk?

Your heartbeat quickens with anxiety and desire, but you answer, Sure! At her suggestion you drive out to The Crystal Cave.

The Cave is one of the kookiest coffee shops in a town surprisingly full of kooky coffee shops. Each of the twelve booths in the main dining room is labeled with a sign of the zodiac, and each of the ten tables is decorated with a metal stand and card printed with an astrological symbol. You have heard that these are the symbols for the planets, and that the Cave uses these and the zodiac signs instead of letters or numbers to designate the tables, but collectively they give the Cave a really strong air of the occult. Which is undoubtedly why the owners decorated it that way.

Sydney comes breezing in about ten minutes after you've taken a seat. You almost swallow your tongue to see her: She has wrapped herself in that same sheer, black one-piece that looks like it's woven of Kleenex and crepe paper, its hem riding high on her thighs. Her arms and legs are tan and toned, and shimmering highlights ripple through her hair. She's wearing strappy platform sandals and is carrying an overlarge bag. She smiles at you—and this time it's a bright, gleaming smile that enwreathes her whole face as she slides into the booth opposite you.

"So hi again," she says and puts out a slim hand. "Caleb didn't really let us introduce ourselves, did he?"

"Um, that's okay," you gasp as you put your numb hand into hers. "I mean— Nice to meet you! Uh, I'm Will."

Her mouth splits into an open-mouthed grin. "I'm Sydney. We don't have any classes together, do we? I think I'd have remembered you."

"Yeah?" You feel the fear showing in your eyes. "I mean, no, we don't. I'd definitely—" You gulp.

Her glance travels up to your cap. "I like your hat, Will. It suits you."

You're still not sure she's paying you genuine compliments, for your sloppy white ball cap is a couple of years old and has gone through the wash and the dryer so many times it's lost almost all its shape. You tug at the brim and mutter, "You're dressed nice too."

Her smile turns just the tiniest bit glassy, but she brushes the awkwardness away by folding her hands and leaning over the table. "So tell me about you and Caleb. How long have you been friends for?"

* * * * *

It's a tough talk that follows, probably harder on her though. What can you say about you and Caleb, except that—?

You've been friends since middle school, that you hang out together and go to movies and play games on your consoles together and drive around and do stupid random stuff with your other good friend, Keith Tilley; that he gets better grades than you (just as you get better grades than Keith); and that while you and he are probably not at the absolute bottom of the high school pecking order you are much closer to the bottom than to the top.

But she looks fascinated and alert as she pulls these and other answers from you. You try asking about her, but she only tells you that she moved to Saratoga Falls from Kansas City at the start of summer. Otherwise, you talk about the classes she is taking, with which teachers, and with which friends and other students. She asks you your opinions of these guys and girls too, though you have to admit that you don't know most of them very well. "So it's just you and Caleb and Keith," she says with a sly smile. "The three musketeers."

It all sounds quite innocuous, and the only really strange thing is that she really does sound and talk like she's trying to get to know Caleb's friends because she might she interested in getting to know Caleb real good. But you're not so lulled into complacency, though, that you're shocked when she broaches the subject of the old elementary school.

"You guys really aren't all that innocent, are you?" she says after (for about the twelfth time) you emphasize that you and your friends don't ever really get into trouble and that you don't even have any interesting hobbies. "Like that 'clubhouse' you made down in that school basement last year. Breaking and entering is a pretty serious thing."

"It wasn't like we were stealing stuff," you protest.

"That doesn't matter. And you got drunk down there one time?"

"Just for Halloween." You feel your face redden. "And getting drunk is, like, nothing."

"Uh huh." She cups her chin in her hands and leans halfway across the table, twinkling at you. "You know, I kind of like to get into trouble too."

Your throat constricts. "Yeah?"

"Well, not trouble trouble, I don't like to get caught. But you know, doing mischief." She wrinkles her nose over her smile. "Having fun doing stuff that you really shouldn't be doing."

You don't know how to respond to that. It's like she's trying to lead up to something, but you have no idea what. "Yeah, well, um—" You shrug.

"Don't you?" she says. "Don't you like doing stuff you really shouldn't because it's fun?"

You suck in a deep breath. This girl was already out of your and Caleb's league when you didn't know anything except what she looked like. Now she's talking and acting like she has a taste for danger beyond your comfort zone, and certainly beyond Caleb's.

"We can't really afford to get in trouble, Caleb and me," you tell her. "My dad's a real hard-ass about that kind of thing, and Caleb— Well, you know him and his mom are the only ones in his family, and if he's gonna get into a good college he can't, you know—"

"He can't go breaking into an abandoned school basement and setting fires?"

You feel your jaw slacken and your cheeks pale. Sydney holds your eye.

"Uh huh," she says after a long pause. "I think you just gave the game away, Will."

Your heart beats hard. "Gave what away? I don't— We never—"

"Cards on the table, Will?" she says. She grabs your hands in hers, and you almost levitate.

"I think you and Caleb are up to something in that basement," she says. "I think one of you guys started that fire, and that one of you guys went back to relight it this afternoon after we left. Because it's burning again. I went out to look before I came back."

Her smile widens. "I think that wasn't the right key you brought out to the school this morning. I think that Caleb called or texted you before we went out there, and he set it up for you to bring the wrong key and pretend it was the right one so that we couldn't get in. I think you're up to something, Will. You and Caleb."

She squeezes your hands, and your protests die in your throat.

"I want to help out too," she says. "I want it to be the three of us. Or the four of us, if your friend Keith's in on it too.

"What do you say?"

* Confess you've been up to something: "How to Create a Convincing Backstory" 
* Deny and bluff: "A Need for Red Herrings" 

*
"Table of Contents (Vol. 3)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 3)"