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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Thimbleriggery"  "What's the deal?" you demand. "Why are you so spun up?" Jessica's eyes nearly pop from her head. "What's the deal?" she barks. "What's the deal? I got people—!" She glances over her shoulder at the rest of the library. It's a thin crowd, but she scoots closer to you. That would be great—her vanilla-like scent envelops you as she presses closer—except that her expression has strained her face into a skull-like mask, and her eyes bulge. "I got people going around pretending to be me!" she hisses. "That's what's got me —! It's fucked up!" "No one's getting hurt. Well—" You start to correct yourself. "Except I guess—" "Except what?" You wince. "Did you get things fixed with Eva?" The blood drains from her face. "So that was you!" Her lips froth, and the words crack in her throat. "Will, I fucking swear—!" "Look, I'm getting it too! Laurent just told me—" "I don't care what you're getting! I hope you do get it in the neck!" "Well, your sister's gonna get it in the neck too!" you snap back. "Or something! Laurent just told me Marcos has been using my gear to come on to her! To Eva! So he's gonna get me in trouble with her, and then she—" "Tchya!" Jessica bunches up her fists. Her knuckles whiten, and the flesh seems to shrink off her fingers until they are gnarled and bony. But she doesn't explode. And after she's got control of herself, she growls, "Okay, what's the story?" So you tell her, as best you can, about what seems to have happened. How you made kind of a fool of yourself talking to Eva the other day about Jeremy Richards, and how someone (Chris, you think) went over that evening to apologize to her while pretending to be you, and then how on Friday Marcos put your gear on and took her on a date, and then how on Saturday he was again in your gear, at your house, texting her. "And that's how things got fucked up between you and her. Your brother had me put on your stuff," you tell her, "so we could get some clothes from your bedroom to take back to the guys. 'Cos they needed some girls' clothes they could put on." It sounds hilarious when you say it, but Jessica's frown stays anchored where it is. "I ran into Eva and found out she was texting with 'me', and I guess I said the wrong thing because she got pissed off at me. Well, she thought she was pissed off at you." "Oh, you think?" Jessica snaps. "How'd you figure that out?" "Well, when she tried punching me in the face before running off to lock herself in the bathroom. That was a pretty good clue," you admit. "Oh, fuck!" Jessica buries her face in her hands. "Yeah, so that's how come she's pissed at you. Or was. Is she still pissed at you?" When Jessica doesn't answer, you ask, "Do you have any idea what Marcos is up to?" "He's a pervert. You're all perverts! Who are some of the other girls you're going around pretending to be?" "I don't know. There's Maria Vasquez and Kendra Saunders, those are two of them, but no one's pretending to be them, not exactly. They're just going around looking like them. There's also, um, a girl named Mackenzie something, and another girl named Emily something." "Is that all?" "No, there's a bunch more, but I don't remember who. None of 'em were names that stuck with me." "This is so sick," Jessica hisses. "Twisted, evil, godless, and sick." She draws a deep breath, and slowly exhales. "They're not hurting anyone," you insist. "Just pranking people." "Is it just a prank that my own sister isn't talking to me anymore?" "So tell her about it. Explain it to her." "I'm not going to—!" "Take Eva with you, then go grab your brother and beat him up until he confesses everything." Jessica's eyes blaze, and for a moment you think she's going to apply your own advice to you. But instead she slouches back in her chair, lower lip outthrust. "So what are you going to do?" you ask when she says nothing. But she only tugs and tugs at her lip. Her eyes burn, and her gaze goes very distant. "You just bring me some of that gear, like I asked," she says at last. She sounds much calmer, but somehow that is even more frightening. "The things you use to make these—" She shivers. "Disguises." "What are you going to do?" She doesn't answer, but turns to stare through you. Then she blinks, and seems to see you for the first time. "Do you like my sister?" she says. * * * * * Well, that's a hell of a question. You didn't know how to answer it. Still less do you know what to say when Jessica says that she thinks Eva is starting to like you. "Well, maybe not 'like like'," she says, a little diffidently. "And maybe it's the guy who's been pretending to be you that she really likes. Ychh! Well, unless he's acting just like you. Do you think he is?" That's another question you have no idea how to answer. "Well, next time you have a chance to talk to her," Jessica says as she gathers up her stuff, "do it. See how it goes." And she leaves you there, paralyzed with fright and indecision. You are still sitting there when the bell rings to end second period, and are still sitting there when Eva herself sails in for her third-period study hall. You feel yourself pale when she joins you with a smile. "I'm sorry I dropped out of messages on Saturday," she says. "I started to text you again but—" "My dad confiscated by cell phone anyway." Your chest is so tight you can hardly breathe. "But that was ... fun!" you improvise. She smiles. "So when are you going to be ungrounded?" "Next week. Monday? Maybe Sunday?" You stiffen all over, except where a little stiffness would be pleasurable. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble for being out late." "No, that's fine. I ... liked it." What is she talking about? you wonder. "Are you okay, Will?" she asks. No I'm not okay! I'm about to shart myself with terror and totally fuck things up with you, if they're not fucked up already because of fucking Marcos Rivera pretending to be me with you! "I'm fine." You strain to remember some of the things that Marcos was texting her about. "I was just talking to your sister last period." "Oh?" Her expression falls, and so does the temperature in her voice, by about sixty degrees. Despite the sudden Arctic blast, sweat pops out on your brow. "Jessica said ... said that you and her, uh, got into kind of a fight? About ... ... ... me?" You gasp after expelling that final word from your lungs. Eva flinches. "We had a fight," she says. "It wasn't about you." She's saved from having to make up a lie by the entrance of her two friends, who she introduces as Audrey Briscoe and Rachel Bell. That squelches any further chance to talk with her about anything but school work, for Audrey in particular is full of chatter, and you settle back to listen and to drop in an occasional comment when you see a chance to say something without embarrassing yourself. But at the end, Eva asks you what lunch you have, and looks disappointed when you find out it's a different lunch period. "But I'll see you tomorrow," she says as you part in the hallway. * * * * * You're waiting for Laurent in the student parking lot after school, in order to finish your talk from before school, but are intercepted by Jessica first. "You're taking me home," she informs you. "Where's your car?" "What?" You gape. "You're giving me a ride home. I already told Marc and Eva. I told Eva I wanted to talk to you." "About what?" you cry. "I told her I wanted to get to know you better. But you and me are going to talk about other stuff." She glowers at you. "Well, first of all," you say, "I can't take you home, I have to get home myself. I'm grounded." "Tell your folks you're helping a friend. I missed my ride and you were my only chance to get home. Really, you don't want me mad at you, Will." "Okay. But second, I'd have to get the stuff from Laurent. He's the one who's holding it all." "So get it from him. Tell him to bring it over to your place, then I'll stop by and you can pass it along to me." "You won't understand it." Her eyes get real big. "Oh?" she says. "I'm not smart enough?" "I didn't mean that! Only ... it's all in Latin, and some of it's kind of complicated. It'll take you awhile." Now her eyes narrow as she regards you shrewdly. "You had someone covering for you at home over the weekend, right? How did they fool your parents? Did they know how to act like you?" "Well, yes. There's this one piece of gear—" "Then I'll cover for you tonight. Bring me the stuff Marcos was wearing while he was covering for you—" "You can't—!" "We're going to do this, Will," she says. "I'm going to cover for you until I can get a handle on the kind of shit that's been going on!" Next: "The Third Time a Charm?" |
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