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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Sus and Fuss"  "So who's going to be out at this party?" you ask Sean. "Girls," he repeats, with a widening grin. Okay, your luck with girls is not so great. You've only had one girlfriend so far, and even Lisa says you weren't really boyfriend and girlfriend. Still, this is the second time that Sean has told you about a party, and you don't want to look like a chicken-shit in front of him. "Sounds great!" you enthuse. "So what kind of 'homework' is gonna be going on out there?" You waggle your eyebrows. His smile cools. "Don't lay it on too thick, Will. It's a chance to have fun while doing homework, that's all. You know where Josie lives?" "No." "Well, I'll give you a ride from my place, then. You can follow me home, leave your wheels, then pick them up again when we're done." "How long's it gonna go for? What if I want to leave before you do?" Sean's eyes narrow at the question. "Okay, forget I said that." He claps you on the shoulder with a meaty hand, almost rocking you off your feet. "If we need to leave separate," he says, "you can get a ride from one of the girls. Come on, man." He lightly mauls your face with his paw. "Are you looking for an excuse not to get some action?" You blush deeply. * * * * * You leave work together, but Sean has to run admiring hands over the lines of your truck before leading you over to his. "Nice," he says. "Whaddayu haul around in it?" "My ass, from my house to the school." "You could use a motor scooter for that." "Well, my dad bought it for me." "Whoa!" "So I drive it and keep it gassed up and am supposed to take care of it. But he says he gets to use it if he ever has to haul anything around. So, I use it all the time, but I think he wants it in case he needs, you know, a truck." "Me and my brother used our truck to haul camping gear and other shit around. And when we were rebuilding a motorcycle—" "You have a brother?' A shadow passes over Sean's face. "Had," he says, gruffly, and resettles his ball cap. "I lost Taylor in a ... car accident." "Oh, I'm sorry." "You have a brother?" "A little brother, in middle school. He's a pest." Sean's gaze goes distant. "Yeah," he murmurs. "They know how to push your buttons sometimes. But you miss 'em when you don't have 'em anymore." You sure as fuck don't wish death on Robert. But if he was shipped off to a military school, or sold to the gypsies (as your mom used to threaten to do, when you were younger) ... Well, you'd like to have a chance to find out if you would miss him. "I'm sorry," you say again. "Huh? Oh." Sean claps you on the back. "No, I'm sorry. It's awkward talking to other people about it, awkward for them too. But come on, just follow me out to my place. Don't ride my bumper, but don't get lost." * * * * * Sean doesn't live too far away, in a small house in a shabby neighborhood, but the lawn out front, though shot through with weeds, is trim. You park on the street while he parks under a carport, and he crooks a finger at you to follow him into the house. "I might be a minute," he says. "No reason for you to wait out here with the bugs." He introduces you to his mother, who is a tired-looking woman in early middle age who reminds you somehow of Caleb's mom: like her, she has the appearance of carrying bone-weariness around atop an iron constitution, and she gives you a warm but slightly faded smile when Sean introduces you. "Oh, so you're the boy he works with at his job," she says after Sean has disappeared into his bedroom in the back. "He's told me about you." You gulp slightly. "He hasn't complained about me, I hope." "Oh, no!" She flutters a little with laughter. "'Cos I am clumsy—" "No, he talks about how nice it is to have a classmate working with him. Taylor—" The shadow that crossed Sean's face now crosses hers. "My other son, he used to work there, and he had friends who worked there with him. He said it made it like it wasn't work at all. Sean's said something like that about you too." "Wow, that's nice of him. He's great too. It's like he's my boss 'cos he knows how everything works and he can tell me what to do, but he's also like my friend." "Are you friends in school?" "Uh, we never hung out in school. But I guess we're going to a, um, study thing now." She smiles, and an awkward silence falls between you. It's a relief when Sean reappears with his backpack. "I'll probably be back about ten," he starts to say, but his mom interrupts him. "That friend of yours came by the house again," she tells him. "About fifteen minutes before you got back." "What friend? Cameron? Laurent?" She doesn't answer, but her expression becomes very taut, and pain shows in her eyes. The color drains from Sean's face. "Oh. Him." His voice turns very hard. "He didn't stop, didn't he?" "No, I just recognized the truck, and I thought I recognized ... him." Sean mutters something under his breath, and he turns very red. "I'll talk to him tomorrow." "Sean, I don't—" "I'll talk to him, Mom." Sean's bicep swells as he bunches up a fist. "Maybe he turned down the wrong street, or there's someone else in the neighborhood—" "It bothered you, right?" His jaw clenches, and a little froth shows on his lips. "Seeing him? So I'll talk to him—" "Promise me that's all you'll do." "If you promise me—" He holds up a stiff forefinger. "If you promise that you will tell me if it happens again." "Sean—" "Promise! Mom!" "I told you just now, didn't I?" "Yes. And you keep telling me." He gives her a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "Okay?" He kneads her shoulders. "I love you." You finally have the good sense to avert your gaze, and you keep it averted even after you follow Sean out to his truck. He himself says nothing either, and seems preoccupied. When you're in his truck—which feels about five times bigger and twenty times manlier than yours, even though they're the same size—you summon up the courage to say, "I told your mom how much I like working with you. Out at Salopek." "Huh?" He seems to retrieve his attention from a million miles away. "Oh. Thanks. I've told her about you too." He shoves the key into the ignition, and guns the engine hard. "I'm glad I got to know you." He throws the truck into reverse and rockets back out of the carport so fast that you almost bang your head on the windshield. He becomes preoccupied again, and neither of you speak all during the drive. * * * * * Josie Holden lives in one of the nicer parts of town, west of the river and not too far from the country club, but there's nothing ostentatious about her house. It isn't even a two-story house, like yours, but it does have two living areas, enough to hold the dozen or so Westside students who ultimately show up. You get a bad feeling about the evening to come when the first person you see is Stephanie Wyatt. You've known Stephanie for years, and she's a total jockstrap: the kind of girl who, if she was a guy, would slap you around for being a wuss at gym. She's on the girls' basketball team, and she prowls around with the grace and power of a panther, an impression only strengthened by the ferocious green of her eyes. She's passing through the atrium as you and Sean enter. Her eyes are hard as they settle on you, but soften as they dart over to Sean. "Hey!" she says, and swings around to pat the side of his face. "When Josie said you texted, I was scared it was to say you couldn't make it!" "Nah, I'd never miss, I just texted to make sure I could bring Will here along." "Oh, sure." At least Stephanie's expression remains friendly as her eyes fall back onto you. "Hey, Prescott. You bring your Astronomy?" You and she share that class, and you nod mutely. "Awesome, 'cos I need some help in there. And you—" She runs a tongue inside her lower lip as she turns back to Sean. "Josie needs something heavy moved in the kitchen. Anders is in there, but he's a girly man." She pokes him in his meaty pecs. "You need to go in there and impress her." "Lemme just drop my stuff. Where are we—?" "We got two rooms set up." She points to opposite sides of the atrium. "That one's for couples and the other's for people who actually need to get work done." But instead of picking one room or the other, Sean just shoves his bag into your arms and swaggers through a third archway, deeper into the house. Stephanie turns to watch him go, and though you can only see the back of her head, you're sure she's watching his ass. "I don't think Sean has a girlfriend," you say. "Huh?" "Which room is for studying in? 'Cos Sean's not part of a couple, I don't think." "Oh. Uh, the couples are in there." She points to your left. "Drop his bag in there, drop yours— Well, wherever." She rubs her nose with her open palm and looks around, distractedly. Then she hauls out her cell phone and scrolls across the screen. "Hang on," she says as you start to move past her. "Lemme pull up my Astronomy paper, and you can look it over while I go take care of something else." With a sniff, she hands you her phone, which you somehow take in hand along with the two packs you are carrying. Next: "One Guy, Three Girls, Zero Chances" |
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