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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1053110
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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.
#1053110 added July 28, 2023 at 9:23am
Restrictions: None
Aftershocks
Previously: "Life ChangesOpen in new Window.

Your news was the most important of the day, but Gordon has some of his own to share, beyond that about the job at Salopek. He tells you about it after you ask if he and Caleb are going to be able to get the rest of the supplies for the next spell.

"Caleb's working on it right now. He's on a date. Sort of."

"With Eva?"

"No. Yumi."

That's a surprise. "I don't picture them on a date."

"It's not really a date. They're talking about Eva. Caleb is asking her if he's really got a shot with her."

"He definitely has a shot with her!" you exclaim. "I had a date with her!"

"You don't have to tell me," Gordon says. "I know all about it. But it's Johansson, you know he hasn't got the balls. And you were the one that was making a play for her. He's hardly been alone with her."

"But what's Yumi got to do with any of this?"

"Nothing. It's an excuse. He's going to talk to her about Eva, I told him he had to do that, but it's so he can use that mask we made. We'll get the money from her."

"From Yumi? I thought you were going to try getting it from Eva or Jessica."

"He doesn't want to do that, not if he's got a chance with Eva. So he's not a total moron." He checks his cell phone. "I figure to hear back from him in an hour. Wanna stick around until then?"

"I should talk to Chelsea, tell her about what happened with -- " You almost say "my dad," but correct at the last moment.

"You haven't told her yet? Yeah, you need to get on that. I'll text you when Caleb gets back. Maybe we could go up to the school, keep you company?"

"Maybe." You avoid his eye. It's occurred to you that Chelsea might be tender and affectionate after hearing what befell you this afternoon. "If Chelsea comes out there, it might be kind of awkward if you showed up."

"Oh. Well, call or text if it's not too late and you want company." He says this in a very neutral tone.

"We might move furniture around," you continue, though the line hardly makes any sense. "What I mean is," you add when he gives you a strange look, "if I'm going to be living up there, she might want to clean it up." Your line about cleaning up the loft made sense when you were talking to Lynch. Now it just sounds like nonsense. "But I'll text you one way or another."

* * * * *

You wait until you're back at the loft before making the next phone call. Chelsea is very chipper, but she also sounds distracted; she's probably plotting how to torture the other cheerleaders tomorrow. You're very mute and let her do the talking, until it sounds like she's trying to wrap up the conversation and get back to her texts and social media. "Something happened with my dad tonight," you blurt out.

"Oh?" she says, and you can instantly tell you've caught her attention.

"Yeah. Uh, he kicked me out of the house."

A pause. "For how long?"

"For good. I assume. Actually, I kicked myself out. He told me he wanted me to do something, and I -- "

Whoa! All unexpectedly, you actually feel all the years of pressure and stress and bottled up anger that Gordon's been carrying around, and you feel them heave and crack and burst. Tears explode behind your eyeballs, your chest swells and burns, and your voice turns raw and ragged.

"I couldn't take it anymore," you gasp. "I told him I wouldn't do it, and he said he'd throw me out if I didn't, so I got Steve and Jason to come over and we -- we -- "

You break down in sobs. You hardly hear her when she says, "I'll be right out."

The phone slips from your hands, and you huddle up on the mat and weep into your knees.

What is happening to you? These aren't your emotions. You don't feel this way. You were totally calm and collected when you made these decisions. Even now, you feel like this isn't you crying, this is some weirdly convincing act that you're putting on for an empty room.

But those feelings of rage and loss and resentment -- and relief -- also feel very real, and they wrack you up and down and from side to side. You don't stop them. You've got a ghost of Gordon Black inside with you, and even in your shock you seem to know that you need to let this phantom vent and roar and sob the way the real one would.

The worst of the storm has spent itself by the time Chelsea opens the door. You raise a messy face to her, and her lips part with a deep and obvious sympathy. "Oh, pookie," she says softly, and comes in.

She crouches beside you and cradles the side of your face in her hand. "Tell me what happened." There's no question of affection. There is only sympathy as she settles next to you with her arms around your neck and her face close to yours.

You're able to explain yourself calmly without breaking down again. "It started a couple of days ago. He got out the switch, because I didn't mow the lawn. Something in me snapped, right then. I grabbed it from him, and I broke it."

She catches her breath.

"And it seemed like we were okay after that. I think I scared him. I mostly did like I'm always supposed to do with him, but I did some other things, little things, just to let him see I wasn't going to take his shit anymore.

"But today I guess he decided to try going back to the way it was before. I spent the night up here last night, and he told me I couldn't do that anymore, I had to get permission before ever staying out, and I had to keep obeying all his rules. And the way he said it -- " A wave of nauseated anger rolls over you. "I could tell that if I said okay, he'd make another switch. I'd be right back where I was before."

Chelsea's expression turns grim, but in her eyes you can see her approval at the way you defied your dad.

"He said he made the rules, and that if I wouldn't obey them, I'd have to move out. So I said I would. And I did."

For a moment she stares at you evenly. Then she hugs you tightly.

"I am so proud of you, Gordon," she says. "You did exactly the right thing. Oh my God." She sniffs hard, and a small sob breaks into her voice. "It was hard for you, I know, but you did it!" When she pulls back, you see the tears running down her cheeks. She wipes them away. "We'll make it work, whatever happens next. Where are you going to stay?"

"Up here."

She gasps. "You can't stay up here!"

You smile ruefully. "That's what Steve said."

"Well, he's right!" she exclaims, without realizing that this is probably the first time she's ever said that Patterson was right about something. "You have to -- We have to find you an apartment!"

"I haven't got a job. Well, not yet. Steve's dad -- I ate with them tonight -- he said he could give me a part-time job as a stock boy or something at his supermarket. If I stay here, that'll be enough to -- "

"You can't stay here! I mean, look at this place!"

"Help me make it nice?"

She jerks her head back. "What?"

"Yeah. Maybe we could pick out some fabric to cover shit with, put some throw pillows around -- "

She punches you, but smiles as she does so.

"I'm serious. I told Lynch when we were up here that I can't live in this place if it's like this. We'd have to move stuff around, and -- "

"The school wouldn't let you, Gordon. If they found out, you would be in so much trouble."

"How are they going to find out?"

"Well, how many people would know you're living up here?"

"You, Steve, Jason." Will Prescott and Caleb Johansson.

"It would get around," she says. "Steve doesn't gossip, but even he might accidentally let something slip."

"What about you, are you saying you couldn't keep it secret?"

She turns red. "I'm not going to comment on that. Except that yes, even I might slip. If you were the only one who knew you were up here, maybe you could get away with it, for a little while. But someone would notice your car downstairs eventually, that it's always out there."

"I can't afford an apartment, Chels, even a tiny, shitty one, on a part-time salary. And I can't work more than that if I'm going to school and playing on the team."

"So what if I got a job too, and helped you out? What if I gave you my salary to help pay for your new place?"

Your eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

"Sure I am! Oh, pookie." She rubs her face against yours. "I want to help out. I don't want you screwing up your school work or the team just because you have to, you know -- "

"Eat?"

She gasps. "Are you going to be able to do that?"

"With the money from my job, yeah."

"But where will you cook?"

"I won't. I'll get ready made -- "

"That stuff's not healthy for you, and you can't live on fast food! You need real food, Gordon! Healthy food, home-cooked food! That's another reason you need your own place!"

"I only know how to make a few things, not enough to -- "

"I'll help there, too!"

This is almost as staggering as the fact that you moved out on your own. "I'll have to think about it. I'll be okay for a few days."

Chelsea looks very stern, but drops the subject. You cuddle for about an hour without really talking, then you send her home by saying you're exhausted.

The main reason you send her away, though, is because you got two texts while you were with her, both wanting to talk about the situation. One is from Steve, and the other is from Caleb.

Next: "A Friendly Offer from a Surprising PlaceOpen in new Window.

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