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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1040927
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by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183311
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1040927 added November 22, 2022 at 12:42pm
Restrictions: None
Some Explanations for Odd Decisions
Previously: "AftershocksOpen in new Window.

Sean is gone for almost half an hour, during which time you have to make excuses for him with Andy, your supervisor, first by telling him that Sean is in the restroom, then by telling him that he had to run an errand inside the main office. You're slowly working your way through the job Andy gave you—sorting through some supply boxes—when Sean, looking very sober, rejoins you. "Hey, what are we doing?" he asks.

"Where the fuck have you been, man?" you hiss at him.

"I had to talk to a guy."

"Well, I had to talk to Andy, give him a story—"

"Thanks for covering for me. What are we doing?"

You briefly outline the job to him, and he falls in with you. After a few mulish minutes of silence, you drop the boom on him: "I'm thinking of quitting."

"What?" Sean almost drops the box he's picked up to move.

"I'm thinking about quitting, getting another job."

He flushes. "If this is about me going off just now to deal with some personal shit—"

"No, it isn't! It's got nothing to do with you, man, you've been great. But Steph— Someone at school told me her dad is hiring at his business, and I'm thinking of taking it."

You go back to concentrating on your work, but Sean studies you thoughtfully. "Your dad works here," he observes.

You make a face, but engage. "That's part of why I want to quit. It's weird working where he's working, where he's my boss's boss or something."

"Huh." Sean set the box down and starts digging and sorting through it. "What's this other job?"

"Furniture store. Moving things, keeping track of stock, stuff like that."

"Kind of like here."

"Yeah, but without the chemicals and safety regulations. I think some of your friends on the football squad work there. Steph— I was told some of them do."

"Steph? Who's Steph?"

"Stephanie Wyatt. It's her dad's business."

"Oh!"

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing." He grins. "Does Stephanie work there too?"

You grimace, but tell the truth. "Sometimes. Her dad makes her help out, she says, without paying her."

"So she'd like it better if you were working there too?"

"It's not like that!"

"Sure it isn't. And if you keep saying 'it's not like that,' Will, it never will be!" He nudges you playfully.

* * * * *

Sean offers to take you out to get a bite to eat after work. You try to demur, because you want to talk to your dad over dinner, but Sean gently presses you into accepting a quick run up to a burger place, where he'll buy you a Coke while he gets himself a bite.

It's on account of what happened earlier, when he ran off, he explains when you're seated at the Carl's Jr. a few blocks up. He feels like he owes you an explanation and more, given the way you had to cover for him for a big part of the workday.

"I had some personal business with Scott I needed to take care of," he says. "So, when you said he was in the office, I grabbed the chance."

"You got in a fight with him at a party, out at Maggie's."

"Yeah." Sean's expression tightens. "That's why I wanted to talk to him at work. We couldn't get in a fight there, like we could at Maggie's or at school."

"What was it about?"

"Personal." Then he sighs. "He says it's coincidence, but it's like he's been stalking my mom or something."

"What?"

Sean grimaces. "That's what he says. He says he doesn't even know where we live, which is bullshit, because him and Taylor were—" He sighs and puts his burger down.

"Scott and Taylor," he says with downcast eyes, "were friends. Taylor was my brother. My twin brother. I don't know if I told you that."

"No, you didn't."

"Yeah, I had a twin brother. People couldn't tell us apart, except by the way we acted, and even then it was hard for them. Or we could make it hard for them. Taylor was a little more outgoing, a little louder than me. But we were close. Like, really close." He claps his hands. "Anyway, Taylor and Scott were friends, and they were off doing something one afternoon, and after they left, Taylor was in a car wreck."

"I'm sorry."

"You said that before, but thanks. Anyway, I always thought there was something funny about it all. There was another kid with them, and he fell into a coma the same day, so—" Sean's face starts to burn. "Scott swears they weren't, like, doing drugs or anything, but I wouldn't put anything past that—" He catches himself.

"Well, that was over the summer," he says when he resumes. "I wanted to get away from all the shit from what happened, so I moved out here to Westside—I'd been at Eastman before—and Scott followed me over, and he's been driving past my house and scaring my mom—"

"Jesus!"

"Yeah." His tone is now hard and grim. "I explained to him half a dozen times it seems like that I don't want him anywhere near my fucking place, and at Maggie's I really let him know I was serious. And then when you said you ran into him on the lot, I decided I wanted to tell him again that I don't want him out around my house."

"Is he still going by?"

"I think so. Can't say for sure. My mom—" He makes a face. "I think she's stopped telling me when she sees him around, because she knows it pisses me off."

"Why don't you talk to the cops?"

He smiles, but wryly.

"I don't want to talk to the cops, Will, I want to handle my own problems. But that is what I told him, finally, today. That if he didn't stop, I was going to complain to the police."

"And what did he say?"

Sean sighs. "The same thing as he keeps saying. That he's not going by place intentionally, it's because he knows someone in the neighborhood and is going to see them."

"Who?"

"That, he says, is none of my fucking business."

* * * * *

You snag a few of Sean's fries while you're with him, so you're plenty hungry for supper. Your dad is only a little late getting home, but he just has to wash his hands before joining you at the table. He is quiet, but doesn't seem to be in a bad mood—as is too frequent, on account of the stress at work—but you're still very tentative about broaching the subject of your quitting one job and taking another. He shuts you down pretty quickly by telling you to talk about it after supper.

But it's not like he's trying to put you off, for as you're heading for your bedroom after helping clean up the kitchen, he summons you into his study. "Close the door," he says. "Now, what's this about your taking a different job?"

He listens intently as you outline the offer that Stephanie made for you, and he looks more and more skeptical as you continue, answering his questions about wages, hours, and duties. "Sit down," he tells you when you're finished, and you take a seat in the chair at the corner of his desk.

"I don't understand this," he says. "You'd be working longer hours at a lower wage rate. In fact, you'd be working weekends practically full time, right? From what you said? And also an hour after school?"

"Only twice a week after school."

"Still. And it's not like it's an improvement on the work you're doing at Salopek. It sounds even more physically demanding, being a furniture mover."

"But Stephanie says there'd be some office work, too. Bookkeeping or accounting or something."

"You've got no training in that."

"I took an accounting class my sophomore year. And they'd be training me on the job," you add when your dad's eyebrow goes up.

"Look, let me ask you bluntly," he says. "Do you want to take this other job because you want that job, or because you don't want to work at Salopek anymore?"

You suck in a deep breath. You don't want to lie, but it's hard to tell him the truth.

He sees your hesitation, and leaps to the worst conclusion: "Are you trying to be cute here, Will?" he asks. "Are you planning to take this other job so you can quit Salopek, and then quit the other job after a few weeks?"

"No!"

"Because you know I won't let you quit Salopek directly?"

"No!"

His eyebrows arch further, but he only says, "I'll think about it," and dismisses you.

Robert is loitering at the top of the stairs as you exit the study. "Ooh, someone's in trouble!" he softly jeers at you.

"Someone's gonna be in a lot worse trouble if he doesn't fuck off," you snort back. But Robert just snickers as you stomp into your bedroom.

Next: "Chasing StephanieOpen in new Window.

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