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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Piano Prodigy"  "I'm already a string player, and I can have an opinion," you protest. Preston leans back and cocks his head. "You have a problem with Nathan?" he asks. "No! It's just that I don't think we need to bother him to come along!" "Technically," Preston says with a soft smile, "I don't think you need me to come along." You feel yourself crimsoning. "Then it's okay if he comes along, Preston," you say. "We can make a party of it." You tell him where to meet, and set five-thirty as a rendezvous time. * * * * * "I'm in trouble," you hiss at Chen as he presses up against you. Being now, officially, a couple, you are sauntering into AP Statistics together. "Preston's bringing Nathan with him." "So?" "I wasn't planning on making Nathan one of my faces!" "You're saying one gay asshole's enough for you?" "Preston isn't gay! Neither's Nathan! He was dating Kendra last year, remember?" "She was just his beard." You stop dead in your tracks. "Really?" "Nah, I'm just being mouthy." He pushes you up against a locker and presses his crotch into you. "So you don't want Nathan along?" You try to ignore the gross come-on. "It would get really complicated to pull off." He pulls away. "Leave it to me, then." "You're not going to put Nathan in the hospital," you protest as you resume walking to class, "just so I can get a, you know." Chen chortles. "Lotsa people would like to bust Cruz in the teeth. But remember who you're talking to." "I know who I'm talking to." "No. Who you're really talking to." He pulls you close to his side. "I can set it up easy, so it's just you and me and a guy to tickle the ivories downstairs while we—" He dives in to give you a hard nip in the side of the neck. * * * * * Chelsea's plan comes together real fast. Even before Orchestra starts, Nathan Cruz, first chair of the school orchestra, swaggers over to where you're tuning up. He's also on the swim team, so he's very lean and swaggers with his whole body. "So I heard I was supposed to help you out with a sound check after school," he says. "You don't have to," you tell him in your most coolly polite tone. But even leaving aside that Nathan is an impediment to your plans, he is kind of a prick, and Yumi dislikes him. "Preston and I can—" "Yeah, I'm gonna have to bail. Something came up. Sorry." "I'll cry myself to sleep tonight," you mutter as he swaggers back to his chair. You lean over to Chen, who's been concentrating on his own viola. "You heard him?" you ask in a low voice. "Knew it before you did," he says. "And oh yeah, he's definitely gay." But it's not until after school—when your boyfriend has chased off the lurkers at the portables so you can work quietly inside one making a mask for Preston—that he tells you how he did it. "I talked to Chelsea Cooper," he explains as you chisel runes into the metal band. "She's looking really fine these days, by the way." He chortles. "The new squad suits her. Anyways, I told her what to do and she did it. Her and Madison Fortnoy are eating out tonight, to talk about Madison maybe trying out for the squad." "What's that got to do with—? Oh! Like that?" "Yeah." He grins. "You know that Madison is Cruz's latest pathetic try at hiding his sexuality. Chelsea made sure to tell her that Nathan's invited to eat out with them. So, like I said. He's gay." "I know a hell of a lot of totally straight guys who'd love to to eat dinner with Chelsea if Gordon wasn't there." "Who says Gordon's not gonna be there?" Chen's laugh is like a hiss. "He'll be there, and I told him to make sure that Nathan keeps his eyes on his food and not on Chelsea. God, that's gonna be an awkward meal!" "Who's having all this fun setting things up?" you ask. "Chelsea Cooper or Gary Chen?" "Who says it can't be both?" His manner has been drifting in a softer direction, and now his tone acquires a sing-song lilt. "We're a lot alike, Gary and me." No kidding, you think to yourself. Aloud, you suggest that he start polishing the mask you just cast. "Yeah, we both like ragging on people," he says as she plugs in the buffer and sits at a desk. "We both have to be the most important person in the group. We both like running things. Although—" The rest of what he says is lost in the whine of the buffer. But there must be a lot of points of comparison, because he keeps talking even though you can't hear him. * * * * * Five-twenty. The Acheson Community Center. You and Chen are hanging out by the door to the basement. He's going to be late to work, but not late enough it should matter too much. Besides, Chelsea's been talking about finding him another job. Something with more money and less fucking bullshit, she says. The Center itself closes at five, but that's okay. You want it closed, because it's the basement you need to maneuver Preston into. But you've got an excuse all prepped. The sun is slanting in the west when Preston pulls up. You're surprised and, in truth, a little dismayed by his wheels. It's a Scion xB, one of those boxy, snub-nosed cars that looks like a cheap, plastic Model-T that melted a little under a hot sun. It's not your style, and you can't believe it's anyone's style. Is it Preston's style? It seems like the kind of a car where the radio would be tuned permanently to National Public Radio; and now that you think of it, Preston does have the look of a faithful NPR listener, at least in larval form. "Hey," he calls as he gets out. "Something came up and Nathan couldn't make it." His eyes go to Chen, but he doesn't flinch or color. "Hey Chen." It impresses you that he knows not to call your boyfriend "Gary" to his face. "Pres'n." Chen puts out a hand and twists Preston's in a complicated, manly shake. "My man Kirkham says you're playing with the Wendigo next month." "That's the plan. I need to look at the music." He looks around. "How do we get into this place?" "Down there." You point to the basement door, and pull yourself out of your boyfriend's clasp. You're also struck by Preston's lack of reaction to seeing you with Chen. "The main doors are locked, but we can get in through the basement." "The basement? And the place is closed?" Preston's faint frown deepens. "You sure we should—?" "Come on, man, don't be a pussy," Chen says. "Been in this place lots of time. This auditorium we want you to check out? Got burn marks all over the floor from all the joints people've dropped after hours." A slow grin spreads across Preston's face, big enough that you can see the tips of his teeth. "Charming venue your mom's picked out," he tells you. But with a shrug, he follows Chen down the short flight of stairs to the door. You take up the rear. You got the lock off already, so your partner just has to open the door. Then its down another short flight of stairs to the floor below. The air is dustier than you remember, and in the failing afternoon sun it is already very dim. But you prepositioned the mask, and in the dark even you don't see it when Chen sweeps it up off the table. He turns in one smooth motion to mash it to Preston's face, then catches your victim under the arms before he can topple, and heaves him onto that same table. "Better close the door," he says as he sweeps Preston's feet up onto the dusty surface. "There lights in this place?" "Yes, but we should keep them off," you say as you push the door to. "No one's ever bothered me here before, but we don't want them to start." "There really another door in here?" Chen asks as he looks around. "Or were you jerking me and Paderewski both?" "Beats me, and when did you ever hear of Pader—? Is that really how you say his name?" "Fuck you, that's where I heard of him, and yeah, that's how you say his name. Snobby cunt." His white grin floats in the dark. "Chen Guangli was top of his accelerated classes three years running when he was in elementary school." "Really?" "Shit you not. But that was before he figured out there were better ways of getting respect. And what's that motherfucking math class I'm doing better than you in?" "Alright, you made your point." You rub your arms, for it is cold and it's going to get colder. "I suppose I better start changing." "You can wait till Spinks gets done copying, can't you? No fun fingering Will Prescott while he's asleep." You feel a little pang at that jibe. Yes, Chen wouldn't want to have fun with Will Prescott's body, but you kind of hope, after all you've done together, that Chelsea Cooper might. On the other hand, you've been under Yumi's mask so long that she might have forgotten what you look like. "Well, I'm gonna look around this place," he says after you've not answered. "Betcha there is another door. Most of this shit they couldn't'a gotten in through that door over there and down those stairs." He pushes through the stacked furniture, shoving it roughly aside as he goes. You watch, then impulsively hop onto the table next to Preston. There's no point in delaying things. Once you get your clothes off you can take Yumi's mask off. You already filled it with goop so that it can be transferred onto Preston, and Chelsea can take care of that step. You are shivering hard once you have your clothes folded and laid neatly aside, and you waste no time laying back and grasping your face. Next: "Fugue for Two Minds" |
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