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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Flirting with the Enemy"  We can prank them tmrw, Cindy DMs you, if u r ok to suck my boyfrn's cock. You're quick to text back: No, followed by Teh fuck? Meet me at milagro beanfild right after school, she replies. Be yeni, she adds. * * * * * You feel the barista's eyes raking your body up and down as you order the cheapest coffee on the menu, and you can feel his eyes on your ass as you totter into the back room. Cindy hasn't arrived yet, and you take a table where you can watch the counter. When she does appear, ten minutes later, you flatter yourself that the barista doesn't pay half as much attention to her as he did to you. Wait, you find yourself thinking. Am I jealous? Am I competing with her? "So Steve told me Seth was all flirting with you outside the gym yesterday," Cindy tells you without preamble as she slides into the seat opposite you. There's more cherry than typical in her peaches and cream complexion, and there's a feverish gleam in her narrowed eyes. "I wish Steve would keep his fat mouth shut," you retort. "There's nothing 'fat' about Steve. Not even his cock," she adds with a snigger. "So what happened with you and Seth?" "Nothing," you tell her. "He just, uh, got in my face and asked if I was new and if I— Well, I think that's all he said. Really," you add as Cindy's skeptical expression deepens into a scowl. "Look, I think I would know if he was hitting on me." And he definitely was, the traitorous girl inside your head assures you. "Did you make a date with Steve tonight?" "No. He's been pestering me"—to call fifteen DMs since lunchtime pestering is an understatement—"but I haven't—" "Meet me in the restroom," Cindy says, and she gets up. "I wanna change places with you." "What?" "It's either you or me, Will," she snaps. "You change your mind about wanting to suck my boyfriend's cock?" * * * * * You didn't answer that last question, and to your relief it seems Cindy didn't expect you to answer it. Or maybe she just had more time to think things through after lunch. At any rate, the plan she outlines to you as you're swapping out clothes and the mask in the Beanfield's unisex restroom (which thank God has a deadbolt on the door) doesn't sound like the kind of plan she would have wanted to outsource to anyone else. "We're going to go back up to the school," the transposed Yeni tells you as she buttons up her jeans afterward. "I'm meeting Seth there. I already told him I was going home, so he won't be looking for me. Well, he won't be looking for his girlfriend." Her lips twist into a smile. "So I'll flirt with him, talk to him, try to hook up with him—" "What about Patterson? What if he spots you? He—" "He won't. Him and Gordon always hang out in the fuck room after school." She pulls the t-shirt on, then fluffs her hair out. It arouses you, despite yourself. That's not just the sexy 'Yeni Mojdeh' that you're talking to. The sexy Cindy Vredenburg is underneath. There's at least two layers of skin-deep beauty you're hanging out with. "We might end up hooking up tonight," she huffs. "But I'll try to set it up for tomorrow. Or Sunday, in case Steve or Gordon or Chelsea wants the fuck room tomorrow night. But you tell your friends to have the balloons ready to go for tomorrow." "Wait, I don't understand," you start to object, but she grabs you by the hand and hauls you out of the restroom. Almost, the two of you slam into the last person you expected to see: Kelsey Blankenship. Yeni sucks in a sharp breath. Kelsey is one of the queen bees at Westside. She's a rich, snooty girl whose daddy owns the largest car dealership in the city. She is taking all AP classes and is on track to attend an Ivy League university. She hangs out with—and bosses around—a coterie of other rich, snooty, Ivy League wannabes. But she affects an expensive bohemian style, and dresses in silk blouses and jeans, with turquoise and silver jewelry. Today she's accented a "rich cowgirl" look with boots and a small, sassy Stetson. For a long moment, you and Yeni stare at her, and she stares back. Her gaze goes up and down Yeni, and then her eyes widen when she recognizes you. They widen still further when her gaze falls to encompass the sight of Yeni clutching your wrist. Then her mouth squeezes into an oily smile. "Hi, Will," she says. There's a chirp in her voice—the kind of chirp a baby bird gives when it sees its mother landing on the nest's edge with a juicy worm in her beak. "Are you here studying?" "Uh—" "We're just leaving," Yeni says, and starts to pull you past. "Who's your friend?" Kelsey says, and grabs at your shoulder. "Huh? Uh? Oh, this is—" You gulp. "Yeni." Almost, you said Cindy. "Yeni Mojdeh." Kelsey's smile glints like polished chrome. "Are you two going out or something?" she squeals. "What? No, we—" But Yeni yanks you away, almost off your feet. "We're just friends!" you call back to Kelsey. "We just met!" "Shut up, Will," Yeni growls. But you can't help glancing back at Kelsey, who is staring after you with a hungry smile. Her hand twitches, and you see she is clutching her cell phone. Yeni almost separates your arm from its socket as she hauls you into the dining room to collect your books. "That was Kelsey Blankenship," you gasp at her. "I know who it was," Yeni spits. "I only had her for three classes all last year, which was at least four too many." "But Kelsey never talks to me!" "Well, don't start now." "Well, why would she—?" "Because you were with me, Will." "But she doesn't know that you're, uh, you!" "She doesn't have to. We're someone to talk about." "How come?" If Kelsey never talks to you, why would she talk about you? And she doesn't know "Yeni Mojdeh." But Cindy doesn't explain, and just pulls you into the parking lot and tells you to go home. She'll handle the school end of things, she says. You just get Carson and James to start prepping their end of the prank. It's not until much later that certain implications you were too dazzled to see or consider begin to make themselves clear to you. I was coming out of the unisex bathroom with a girl, after deadbolting the lock. The girl was holding my hand. And—though this is something you didn't spot until after your mom called it to your attention when you got home—my fly was gaping open, and there was a big, dark, wet spot on the front of my boxers. * * * * * "You're really fucking things up, you know that?" Carson barks. You have to hold your phone away from your ear, he is talking so loud. He texted while you were driving home, and instead of texting back you called him directly to tell him to get the stuff ready for tomorrow. You thought he'd be pleased, but if anything he seems even angrier. "Look, it's all good to go!" you tell him. "Cindy says—" "Did she tell you how we were supposed to get the balloons up into the loft?" Carson demands. "No, but what difference does it make?" you ask. You are in the garage, pacing its length. "Just get the balloons ready—" "Well, are we supposed to transport them up to the school, or are we supposed to deliver them to Cindy so she can transport them? Or is she going to pick them up, or—?" "I don't know, but you can ask her—" "Does she even know how she's going to handle it? The last thing we need is some bimbo who only thinks she—" "Look, I'll get back to you tomorrow!" you holler. "I'll talk to Cindy. And besides, she's the one who's supposed to talk Seth into taking her up into the—" You catch yourself. "Into the gym loft. She'll know how to get the balloons up there. Better than you will." "So, let's all get together tomorrow," Carson says, "so we can talk it through." "Fine, we will!" you snarl back. "You just keep that temper of yours under control. The last thing you need is to piss—" But the click of dead air tells you Carson has already hung up on you. Almost you hurl your phone at the wall. Only the fact that Carson has promised you another sixty dollars, and the additional fact that you'd have to pay him back sixty that you already spent, restrains you from telling him and James to go fuck each other. You lean against your dad's car and fume. Only gradually do you notice that you're staring at a box with the picture of a car buffer on it, and you're even slower to realize why it is so fascinating. You and Cindy made a mask yesterday, and it fell to you to polish it. She warned you it would take the better part of a week. But she used a rag. What if you used modern technology? Would it go faster? Though if you had a new mask ready by tomorrow, what would you use it for? Pranking Carson and James, you growl to yourself. Then another, related thought: What about using one of those metal strips to copy one of their brains? Cindy already proved you can wear one of those without wearing a mask. Being as smart as them would be a good way of keeping up with them. Next: "Weird Science" |
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