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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Jumping Javits"  A five o'clock meeting with Caleb will cut things close for you at work, but Javits has basketball practice after school, so it will have to be that way. You run over to get your usual Monday-Wednesday-Friday meal from the Panda Garden, then hurry back to campus. You're alone at the portables with a fat cardboard box of noodles and vegetables when the new Seth Javits comes around the corner. "You're late," you say as you put away your phone. "Don't fuck with me, man, this wasn't a good afternoon." "Having trouble with the memories?" He starts. "How'd you know?" "You'll be okay tomorrow morning. You'll wake up with Javits's memories and Javits's erection. Tilley better watch himself." "Well, I'm in a fuckload of trouble in the meantime. I had to skip basketball practice because I couldn't trust myself with the ball, and Patterson called to yell at me. There's some kind of tryouts on Monday to replace Gordon, and it sounds like everyone has to try out again, including me." "You'll be okay tomorrow," you assure him. "Chelsea says—" "Yeah, how is this supposed to work?" "That's what I'm explaining to you. Jesus! Okay, so, remember, you're supposed to think that Chelsea is really Chelsea, the real deal. You think that you're breaking up with Cindy in order to be with Chelsea. A good fight with Cindy will help that." "Do I get to have makeup sex with her after we fight?" "That's your business. You just need to break up with her. But for the rest of it—" You gather your thoughts. "Okay, the pretend story is that you're a friend of Chen's, I won't tell you which one, just one of his little ass-buddies, and I caught Javits for you—for him—and swapped you in for Seth because, you know, I thought it would be good for business. By sheer coincidence, Chelsea is going to call you tonight, and you'll go on a date and— Yeah, you're gonna get laid," you say as Caleb's eyes widen. "And based on that, you—the guy who's taken over for Seth—you are gonna call me back and ask 'What am I gonna do about this?'" "Why," Caleb interrupts. "Why would Seth's substitute call you for advice?" "Because Chen hangs out with dipshits who don't change their underwear without permission from Chen and-or Kirkham, that's why. And I'll say 'Go for it man, dump Cindy hard'. And that's what you'll do. Also, you have to make it hurt." Caleb gazes up into the sky thoughtfully. "I thought Chelsea was gonna think I was the real Seth." "No. You supposedly think she's the real Chelsea. I swapped you in for Seth, but you don't know that Chelsea is Chen." "But Chen knows that I'm really—" "He knows you're a fake. But he doesn't know which one of the dipshits you are. And he can't ask you, because you can't know that he's really Chen. Look," you say when he frowns. "Just pretend that she's really Chelsea, and talk only to me. That's what you'd do anyway, right? The rest will take care of itself." "Why is Chen doing all this?" he asks. "Because Cindy's planning to vote Chelsea out as head cheerleader, and busting up her and Seth, and grabbing Seth for herself, is the only way Chen can keep in the job. Caleb stares at you, then doubles over with hard laughter. "Chen is doing all this so he can stay on as head cheerleader?" he gasps. You can't help grinning too. "Sure. It's fucking sick, isn't it? But just you get a look at what he's wearing and where he's sitting, and then tell me you wouldn't do the same." He grunts and adjusts his jeans, which are bulging in the front. "Okay, just as long as he knows he has to put out." "He does. Okay, you can get the fuck out of here. I got a crappy-ass job out at the country club I gotta get ready for. Call me around midnight." * * * * * The evening passes with bone-wearying work at the country club. At your smoke break Chris Trantham asks if you've looked over that paper he gave you. "Haven't had time," you confess. "That's my project for tomorrow. I hope." Given the way demands are piling up—you've still got the Thomason-Varnsworth swap to pull off—you wonder when you'll get anything done. "I've got some more notes," Trantham says in a tentative tone. "Awesome, bring 'em Monday. Just keep chilling until you hear from me, okay? You're doing great." Back home, you find your grandfather asleep and are able to hide in the bedroom/living room. You quickly and carelessly finish off a pile of math, then turn to the "To Do" list you've been running in your phone mailbox: * KHall: Talk about f-squad supply, disrupt, replace; junior class * CTran: Talk about EHS market * AVarn: Thomason * Chen: Javits * Book: Chk on spell. Until you hear from Caleb—it surprises you that you haven't already—you can work on the grimoire. You look over the just-completed spell, in case you missed something earlier. But there's only the sigil and the list of ingredients and directions for combining them. You pull at the corner of the page. Nothing happens. You carefully peel at the corner. It refuses to come away. The fuck? Does this mean the spell didn't actually work? For about ten befogged minutes you cuss silently at the book and the universe before it comes to you: In the other spells you'd had to touch the book to the thing you'd made, and you've not touched the new dingus with book. Fuck, something else for your tomorrow to-do list. Maybe. If your fucking partners will let you. A little after twelve-thirty your phone tweets. "Braaahhhh," Seth Javits groans. "I got a new girlfriend!" "Great, I'll talk to you about it tomorrow." "Don't you wanna hear? It was sick and it was awesome!" "Fantastic. You can tell me tomorrow. I'll call you when I'm free." "'sfine. Gives me time to find the words to describe it. I think Cindy's matched that performance only ten or fifteen—" You slap the phone off. It rings again ten minutes later, as you've just put out the light. It's Chelsea. "Did you hear from Javits yet?" "Yes, and he's in love and he'll break up with Cindy, like, tomorrow or something." "Good. For the work I put into it—Yeaugh." "I've done my part," you say."Can I go to bed now?" "Sure. But I also was going to remind you that Andrea will be at the natatorium tomorrow morning. She'll be gone by noon." "Okay." You turn onto your back and stare at the dark ceiling. "What about Sundays? Does she go up to the school on Sundays?" "Fuck if I know. I got church." * * * * * If Gary Chen had a decent life, he'd be able to sleep in on Saturdays. But you're up early, both because of medical chores and other responsibilities, and because you've got things to do that only two weeks ago Gary Chen never would have believed were even physically possible. At least you're ready to tackle them by ten. You'd given it thought while dealing with the old man's shits and medicines and changing of bedclothes and washing of sheets. Thomason is now a week overdue as far as laying hold of Andrea, and though he's been patient and not said anything the few times you've run into him, you know that you really need to take care of it: After all, beyond it being a promise to him, it's to your advantage to turn Andrea into a sexy spokesmodel and saleswoman for the narcotic wares you're offering the student body of Westside High School. But that's part of Gary Chen's life, and you've been working to find a way out of it, and that means working your way through the book. Sure, maybe you could tackle the grimoire in the afternoon, but things have a way of popping up and destroying your plans. Next: "Shanghaied!" |
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