%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Where the Boys Play"  This feels like a very dangerous moment, and the worst kind of moment for you. This isn't just a case of Chelsea being mad at you. If you push her away too hard, you might accidentally break her and Gordon up. But if you try making things right with her, you'll have to deal with her fragile emotions and you might get stuck making love to her. Wow, wouldn't that be tragic? Seriously, though, you're pretty sure that Gordon is okay with you doing the replacement thing only because he thinks there's no chance you and Chelsea will get in any kind of a clinch. If you violate that trust -- Well, you're pretty sure Gordon could beat the shit out of you even if you were inside his mask. So you have to temporize. Get her out of here, and get Gordon back inside his life at least long enough that he can decide what to do. So -- "This isn't a good time," you say. Chelsea's face twists up. "What are you doing? Why can't we -- ?" "Tomorrow," you tell her. "We'll talk tomorrow. I've got a lot of thinking to do." She hiccups again, and her face turns very gray. "Thinking about what?" she asks in a small voice. "About us." Your palms are sweaty, and you wipe them on the sides of your shorts. "The last couple of days have been tough." She nods vigorously. "I know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have -- " She puts out her arms, and for a moment it looks like she's going to rush at you and embrace you. But she catches herself, and agony shows in her eyes as she stares up at you. You realize that she caught you stiffening against the onrush. "I just have to think," you say again, and swallow to clear a throat that has gotten very tight with fear, desire and confusion. "I'm not sure what I -- " You swallow again. "What I want." Oh, you know what you want. You want to squeeze this soft creature to yourself and bury your face in her hair. You want to pull her to the floor and undress her and touch her all over. That's enough for the fantasy. You don't have to think farther than that. If you could do those things, the sequel, you feel, would take care of itself. Chelsea visibly wilts. She half turns and grasps the door frame and puts her face against it. "I don't deserve you, Gordon," she says, and the tears stream down her cheeks. "I'm so mean to you. You've got so much shit in your life and I make it worse. I'm so sorry." She swallows. "I promise I will make it up to you. I'll change. Just -- " She looks up at you. "Give me a chance to show that I can." "Tomorrow." It's all you can say. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." Her face twists up, and with a long series of snuffles she goes out the door and back down the stairs. You wait until you can't hear her footsteps any longer before closing and locking the door. Then you collapse. You are shaking all over, and pull your trembling knees under your chin. How can one body -- even one as massive as Gordon's -- hold so much terror and so much desire at the same time? It's several minutes before you're able to move, and then you only move so far as to open a cabinet and take a pull from the whiskey bottle. It burns going down your throat as a liquid, and it burns going up the back of your nose as a vapor, and you shudder at it. But it's enough -- if not to calm you, at least to settle your shakes. You pull the grimoire and the project material back from the cabinet and return to work. At first you think that you won't be able to concentrate on it, for your mind races, and you don't quite trust your fingers. But it actually has a calming effect, for it takes just enough skill to occupy your mind and hands without demanding all your attention. It calms you to the point that you decide -- after a lot of temporizing -- that you don't need to call Gordon and spill out in a panicked way about Chelsea's visit to the loft. And when you're done you take the book and the material back home with you. Gordon's dad is slumped in a chair in front of the TV. He gives you a very steady look as you come in, but you give him a steady look back and he says nothing. You go to the bedroom and shut the door. You hear nothing more from him that night, and are able to finish a third band before going to bed. * * * * * It's Saturday, but you forgot to turn off the alarm and so you wake very early. The house is quiet, even after you've showered and tidied the bathroom, and since you don't want to see Gordon's dad, you leave the house. You drive around for a bit, and you think about going back up to the school and the loft. But instead you call Caleb at his house and Gordon at yours. To Caleb you are gruff and demanding; to Gordon you are more cordial. But the message is the same: Let's meet at the old school basement at eight. To take the edge off the early hour, you pick up three coffees and a dozen donuts with some of the leftover money from yesterday. Both of your friends -- and it's easier to think of Gordon as a friend when he's looking like you -- look like they just rolled out of bed, and neither one is very placated by the breakfast you bought. "So what's the excitement?" Caleb asks around a mouthful of a chocolate donut. "Or did you just need to get out of the house?" "Partly that," you reply. "But partly it's because I finished these." You scatter the three metal bands on a dusty table. "Well, not finished, 'cos I can't figure out how to finish them. But I did everything the book said to do." "What makes you think they're not finished?" says your doppelganger. "Because I can't get the next page in the book to unlock. Remember, I explained that? The page won't turn until you complete the spell, and even after making these -- " You shrug. "Are these runes?" Caleb says as he picks up one of the bands. "Any idea what they say?" "Nope. Hard to do a Google search in another alphabet." "Are they a wrist band?" Caleb says. "No, they don't bend," he mutters after trying the experiment. "The neck? The masks go on the face, so maybe -- " He puts it to his cheek. "What makes you think you're even supposed to wear them?" says Will Prescott impatiently, but then he jumps up as Caleb topples unconscious to the floor. You and Will exchanged startled glances, then huddle around Caleb. That band seems to have vanished -- it's nowhere on the floor next to him -- and he is as limp and glassy-eyed as when putting on a mask. "Maybe he figured out how the dingus is supposed to work," you lamely observe. "Maybe," says Prescott. He slaps Caleb on the side of the face, and you wince at the blow. "But if he doesn't wake up in the next ten minutes -- " He turns a piercing look on you. "And you didn't play around with these things before?" "No. Uh, as long Caleb's out," you add quietly, "I got some news to share about Chelsea." Quickly you describe her behavior last night, all the way down to the crying and the promise to "change." Gordon's hair is standing on end by the time you're done -- but then, since it's your hair, it was standing on end even before you started talking. But let's just say he looks shocked and even a little aghast. "That's -- Whoa," is about all he can get out. He rubs his mouth with his hand. "You did good, Prescott," he says at last. "I've never -- Well, there was one time, a long time ago, when she broke down that far. I was real close to breaking up with her." He swallows. "I just stopped talking to her, and she came around and begged me to give her another chance." You can't think of anything to say, so you say nothing. You jump, though, when he swings around violently to kick a desk. "Fuck! Fuck!" He grabs the edge of the desk and kicks it again. "I can't ever -- ! She always gets her fucking way with me!" He grabs at the open air, as though there are curtains he wants to rend and pull down. "I'm always the first to give in," he concludes lamely while turning a deep shade of red. You still don't say anything, until after he's raised his head and asked, "Can we switch back around today, so I can get with her?" What a question! Only when you exhale do realize you'd been holding your breath. "I was going to ask you to! I don't know how to handle her!" "It's not like I have a fucking clue either." He pauses. "How are things with my dad?" You instantly tense again. "Well, there it's a little -- " You're saved from having to finish by something moving in the corner of your eye. It's Caleb -- or, rather, it's a movement on him. That metal band has reappeared, and is resting on his forehead. But he doesn't wake. You lean forward and carefully pluck up the band. The runes are still there, but something has been added. Caleb's name, in bold, blue letters floats over its surface. * * * * * "To know the mind of another," Caleb says after you've turned the page in the gook and translated what's written on the other side. His eyes are wide. "Sounds like it copies someone's brain." There's a silence before he speaks again. "Are we actually going to use these on each other?" he asks. Next: "Getting to Know You" |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
