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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Dolt Tries Setting Up a Date"  You stare at the screen of your phone: Would I have a chance with Jenny if I turned myself into Lamont? You shake your head in numb disbelief. What happened to the guy who was so proud to be who he is? Talk abt it after school, you reply. * * * * * Whatever foul mood had settled onto Gordon has dissipated by the time you meet with him in the early evening, and he just wants to know how you're going to set him up with Jenny when Jenny (as she told you) would rather "suck off a pig" than sit in the same room with Gordon. What am I going to do about it? you want to reply. Since when is this a problem that I have to solve? But Gordon is right that there's no one else who can really get a grip on it. David Kirkham has thoughts, though. (It is at his house that your trio has landed; Caleb wanted to hang out with you anyway, and it seemed too awkward meeting at the Johansson house.) "You know, if I was you," he tells Gordon while curling up panther-like in the chair at his desk, "I'd pick Jenny up and carry her out to one of the portables. And there I'd explain the facts to her. You know. That I like her and that there's not a goddamned thing she can do except let me show her how much I like her. And then I'd show her, and there we'd be." He rolls the toothpick over to the other side of his mouth and smirks at Gordon. Gordon looks at you. "That wouldn't work with Jenny," you tell him. "It worked for me with Mindy McAdams," Kirkham sneers. "It worked for Kirkham with Mindy McAdams," you retort. "That's in the first place. In the second place, you're shitting us." "Bruh," Kirkham sneers. "I seen her in the hall— No, fuck you, I'm tellin' it this way, man. I seen her in the hall, and I'm, like, damn, if I don't get to touch that I'm gonna go choke myself with a bicycle chain till I cum. So I go up and palm her between the shoulder blades, an' I say, I wanna talk to you. And she comes with me out to the portables, 'cos she can guess what's up and she's in'erested—" "I'm gonna puke," you mutter under your breath. "—and we get out to the portables and I explain things to her." He shrugs. "And then there we were. And here we are, now" he adds, slapping his inner thigh hard. Gordon stares at him, and his eyebrows go up. He turns again to you. You roll your eyes. "Even if that bullshit story isn't bullshit—" "You tryin' to piss me off, Prescott?" Kirkham asks in a very soft voice. "—he says that Mindy was already interested in him. Jenny— Well, she says she's the opposite of interested in you. Sorry." "Fuck," Kirkham says to Gordon. "If it's just that you wanna get laid—" "If all I wanted was to get laid, I could," Gordon interrupts. "I know how to get that done." "Well, so—" "I want Jenny. And not her tail. Well—" Gordon shrugs. "Sooner or later." Kirkham grins. "Sooner, right?" "Stop trying to be such a badass, Johansson," Gordon growls. Then he turns to you. "What about some of her other friends? Could they talk to her, get her to give me a chance?" You make a face. If Jenny dug in her heels with you, you're sure she'd dig her heels in with her other friends. No, the only way Gordon has a chance with her (it seems to you) is if he happens to show up someplace where she is (and where she can't escape from) and manages to impress her enough that she'll at least stop pantomiming a hard vomit when she hears his name. Kirkham must have been having the same thought, for he says, "Could you set up a date with Jenny, just you and her, or you and her and me, and then Black here shows up?" You hesitate before shaking your head. "She'd know it was a set-up." "One of her other friends, then. Have them set it up." "I don't know who would. Yumi or Lin wouldn't, I don't think Eva or Jessica would. Carson and James obviously wouldn't." Kirkham grunts. "Cindy wouldn't either, I guess." Cindy. That would be Cindy Vredenburg. For some reason you don't dismiss her name right away, as you did the others, and you frown to yourself as you concentrate on figuring out why not. Why would Cindy help Gordon with Jenny? You're pretty sure Cindy hates Gordon too, on account of— The answer comes in a rush of blood to your head, and you almost flop over from dizziness. When you recover, you tell the others, "I know who to ask. I know exactly who would help out." * * * * * Tomorrow night—a Friday—is the soonest that you can set up, and it has to be Gordon who sets it up, since you are no friends with the people you need to see. But it's no great trick for him, and a few texts later, it's all done. Caleb said nothing while you were explaining it all to Gordon, and he keeps to himself until he's walking you out to your truck when it's time to go. And even then he just shakes his head and says, "You're gettin' fuckin' brave, man." "It'll be fine," you retort. "Gordon'll be there." "So maybe you're not brave," he says, "if you're gonna be hidin' behind him." "I'm not hiding. I just mean that it'll be the four of us, and it'll just be normal, you know, Friday night out for a pizza thing." "Ain't normal that you're gonna be there." "Is it normal that I was over here tonight?" "That's different. Oh, why didn't you come out to the portables first period, like I told you to?" He lifts his chin in challenge. "I forgot. How about tomorrow?" "Fuck off, asshole. No, I'm kidding. Sure, come out." He slaps you on the shoulder. "I'll make you feel welcome." Then, alarmingly, he grabs you by the chin and pushes you up against the side of your truck. "And when I say I'm gonna make you feel welcome," he hisses in your face, "I mean I'm gonna treat like I treat everyone else. Let's find out how easy it is to make you shit yourself." You give him to the count of three. Then you tell him, in a very tired voice, "Cut it out, Caleb. You're not scaring me." He holds you for a count of three of his own, then releases you. "Well, not bad," he grunts. "'Cept if I do that to you tomorrow, and you say that, I'm gonna have to drop you, just to let the others know I ain't in the business of scaring. I'm in the business, period." "Whatever, man." You yank open your truck door and clamber into the cab. He steps back with folded arms as you turn the motor over, as though he knows you're going to try giving him a parting shot before you drive off. So you do. "Listen, motherfucker," you tell him after rolling down the window. "I know you're trying to show off, but you can't scare me. 'Cos there's you, and then there's the real badasses at school." He lifts his chin. "Yeah? Who's the real badasses?" "Chelsea Cooper." * * * * * And that's the thought you leave him with. You didn't feel like telling him or Gordon what's really been occupying your thoughts since the end of school. It was Jason who told you, during your seventh-your free period, which you took out on the weight deck in the gym. He came sauntering out not long after you had settled onto one of the leg machines. He opened by telling you that he was just stopping by to be "neighborly," and then demonstrated his "neighborliness" by sharing a warning. Chelsea's got plans for you, he said. It's on account of how she blames you for busting her and Gordon up, he explained. He had no details on what she was going to try doing to you, but Kendra had passed the news along to Jason, who felt like you should at least know that a shitstorm will be heading your way. And what kind of shitstorm is she planning? Jason didn't say. But Chelsea is a devil in female form, and can probably come up with any number of ideas for horrible things to do to you. You didn't say anything to Caleb, and you didn't say anything to Gordon either, as you know have enough pride that you don't want anyone else fighting your fights for you. But how do you fight Chelsea? Certainly you can't fight her off the way you fought off the Molester. And you haven't a clue how to fight her with her own weapons. Of course, you've got secret weapons of your own, like the one you used on Kirkham. But you're sure Gordon would never allow you to do anything like that to Chelsea. Then again, what he doesn't know wouldn't hurt him. Later, when you're doing homework at home, a corollary occurs to you: With the masks, you don't have to fight Chelsea as yourself. You could fight her as someone else—someone she would never suspect as an enemy. Next: "Doom Hangs on a Dinner Date" |
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