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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/971145
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by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2193834
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#971145 added December 8, 2019 at 2:19pm
Restrictions: None
The Trouble with Karl
Previously: "A Triangle with Two Identical CornersOpen in new Window.

"How many betas are we supposed to finally get?"

You must have barked the question, because Maria blanches. "I was just asking if you're interested in getting a third one, Will," she says.

"I've got enough to deal with just having two of them! In fact—!" You make a face as you realize you've totally lost touch with Jenny and with your own beta since last Friday. "No way I need a third one!"

"Alright." Maria raises her hands. "You can chill out now."

"My life's complicated enough," you grumble as you hike your bag onto your shoulders. "I'll talk to you later." You're just passing through the door when your phone chimes with a text.

* * * * *

"This is nice," Andrea says. She throws a leg over your naked hip, and brushes a strand of hair from your face.

You snuggle up closer to her, and throw the sheet off your shoulder. "You're sure Charles isn't going to show up?" you ask.

"No, I'm not. But the door's locked."

You groan, and bury your face in the pillow between you.

You knew what the invitation was for when you read the text, even though it said nothing but hang out w me this afternoon just too of us? You barely got in the door before Andrea was pulling you into a close embrace to rub her nose and mouth into your temple. Holding each other, you stumbled back into her bedroom, to disrobe and climb into bed.

But that's where things ground to a halt. So far you've just caressed and kissed each other in a slow, lingering way, with lots of pauses and rests in between.

So when Andrea says, "You seem tense," you prop up on one elbow to give her a direct look.

"Is Andrea's life complicated?" you ask.

She blinks once, slowly, and says nothing.

"The thing with Sienna and Kelsey," you continue. "Have they been over here? Either one of them?"

"No," she replies. "I don't ever talk to Kelsey."

"She hasn't started talking to you? I mean, since the switch?"

"No. And I feel kind of like Sienna's been avoiding me."

You sigh. "She's been avoiding Jelena too. Did Mike tell you? Well, she is, and I've been taking up the slack. Which is okay," you groan, "I guess, if we're supposed to be, you know, watching to see what she does. Have you heard about it all?"

"Pretend I haven't."

So you tell it, all of it, about the new Sienna chasing Kelsey's boyfriend, and the new Kelsey wanting to be your best friend.

She snickers at the last bit. "I guess it makes sense," she says. "Like she wants to share her new life with her old friend. And she's right, you know." She lightly brushes your bare shoulder. "You are very stylish."

"Whatever, man. But it's them and Karl I'm worried about."

"How come?"

"Because they're both fighting over the same guy."

"So? It's what girls do."

"But not like this! Now that Kelsey's Sienna, she actually wants to go out with Karl? And Sienna also wants to go out with him, now that she's Kelsey?"

Andrea smiles. "That's what makes it all so interesting."

"People keep using that word! Interesting!"

"Because it is." She flips onto her stomach. "I wish I was in on these scenes, but I told you, it's like Sienna's been avoiding me. But you've got a ring-side seat. You need to start keeping notes, Philip's gonna want a full report."

"Oh, Jesus!" You fling yourself onto your back to stare at the ceiling.

Andrea lets you stew, then clambers atop you.

"What are you so worked up about?" She brushes your face with her fingertips. "It was your idea to do the 'Freaky Friday' thing to people. What did you think was going to happen when we did?"

"I don't know," you admit. "I guess I figured that people would just try to be their new selves."

"And where would be the fun in that?" she asks in a pouty voice. She kisses you, but you don't kiss her back. "Maybe you're just stressed out because you don't feel like you're getting enough help from the rest of us?"

"I don't think that's it. I think—"

"Well, you do need our help," she declares as she sits up. "Besides, I want to see first hand what's going on. I'll get Karl to come out here, him and a couple of his friends. You can talk to him, get his side of things."

"What?" You sit up sharply as she gets out of bed.

But she's already out the bedroom door, without even bothering to put on a robe or a shirt or even her panties.

She's gone for a very long time, and hasn't returned when her phone, which sitting on the end table by the bed, chimes with a text. Bored, and wanting to see what it's about, you pick it up.

It's from Charles Hartlein: Just hanging around outside your door, Drea. You groan.

And you groan again when the follow-up text appears: I know you're there cos your phone just went off the once.

* * * * *

To make it worse, Andrea uses Charles's arrival as an excuse to follow through on her threat to bring out Hennepin, for Karl and Andrea, through Charles, have mutual friends. You wind up texting your parents to tell them you'll be eating out.

By six o'clock there's nearly a dozen people crowded into Andrea's house, which is way more than usually shows up there on a weekday. Charles is in his element, picking the music out of Andrea's mom's tower of old CDs, and bullying some of the guys into going out and bringing back Greek takeout. As for who has shown up:

There's Adrian Semple, the mop-headed pot-smoker who is Charles's sometime bed-mate. Connor Davison, the guy that the fake Kelsey was flirting with in your English class. (You wonder if Karl knows about that, and what he would say about it.) Emily Sparks, a hobbit-sized girl in a beret and black-framed hipster glasses. Ceres Kesey, an elfin blonde who dresses like a Sixties-era flower child.

Then there's Karl and his crew. (And to call them "his crew" seems right, for he seems to be the dominant personality among them.) Kevin Winkler, a weedy-looking nerd whose head seems too big for his undernourished body. Andy Tackett, who with his trim physique, close-shorn hair, and worn-out hoodie looks like he ought to be on the basketball squad. Tim Gerard, a shaggy-headed poet with puppy-dog eyes. And Mia DeWitt, a girl in a rainbow-hued woolen hat and scarf that was obviously hand-knit by a relative.

You drift from one to another, doing your best to avoid Karl. But when Andrea sends him into the back yard to cut a few herbs to go with the takeout, she also pushes you outside with him.

"So I don't see you out here at Andrea's that much," you say as he snips off some parsley. It's a lame opening, and you're glad that he's not looking up at you as you hover over his shoulder.

"Nope," he agrees. Snip, snip. "Are you out here a lot?"

"Yeah, I hang out. Me and Sienna are here a lot. You know Sienna, right?"

"Yeah." He twists around to give you a quick, even look. "You and her hung out in the music room yesterday."

"I hope we didn't bother you."

"You didn't bother me." Snip, snip. "Weird place to hang out for your study hall, though."

"It wasn't my idea, it was Sienna's."

He twists around to give you another look. "She told me it was your idea."

"Um—"

Before you can come up with some reply, he straightens up and turns, bumping into you. Standing only inches apart this way, you can't help realizing just how tall he is.

Well, he's not a giant or anything. He's only six-foot-one, maybe, but that's tall enough. He also has a great poof of curly hair, like the head of a dandelion, which makes him look even taller. And on top of that he's perched a felt fedora.

There's also the way he's holding himself, with his chin in the air so that he has to look down his nose at you. But there's nothing arrogant or supercilious in his stare, and his mouth hangs open in a half-smile.

"You're taking art classes," he informs you when you don't follow up that "um." "I hear you're pretty good."

"Um."

"I couldn't fit any art classes into my schedule this semester. I have to do it on my own. I have a studio out in back of my house."

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh. We should hang out some weekend, work on our projects together."

"That'd be fun," you stammer.

"Are you serious?"

"What? Sure. I guess."

His smile twitches just a little wider.

"I was hoping you'd say that," he says.

Then, before you can ask why he was hoping that, he tosses the herbs to the ground, grasps you by the shoulders, and bends to kiss you full on the mouth.

Your astonishment at his action is nothing beside your astonishment at your own reaction.

You don't pull away.

That's all for now.

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