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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Fakes on a Date"  "Come sit with us?" Andrew Webb asks you at your locker. Kaylee Mercier smiles brightly while Ethan Claybourne settles back on his heels to stare down at you with hooded amusement. Or, if you had X-ray vision: "Come sit with us?" Andy Jensen asks you at your locker. Grant Lowery smiles brightly while Justin Orr settles back on his heels to stare down at you with hooded amusement. "Er," you reply. "Come on." Andrew's smirk deepens under his twinkling eyes. "Well, I am supposed to meet some friends there," you stammer. "Cool, we'll make it a party." He sidles up so close you can feel the heat off his body. "I have to get stuff out of my locker first." "I can wait." Over his shoulder, to the others: "We'll catch up. Get a big table." Ethan nods and turns, pulling Kaylee along by draping a strong arm around her shoulders; she puts an arm around his waist. You can't help staring as they lope off down the hallway. "So, who are you friends with?" Andrew asks. "Huh?" You wrench your gaze away from the retreating backs of Ethan and Kaylee. "Oh, uh, lots of people." "Well, who are hanging out with now? Besides me and Ethan and Kaylee?" He crosses his arms. He's in a sleeveless tee, so they are bare up to the shoulders, and his pink biceps bulge slightly. "Oh. Uh." You swallow hard. "Andy Jensen." Shit, why did you have to hurl Andy's real name at him right off the bat? "Grant, uh, Lowery. You know them? Paulina Nowack?" "Oh sure. You're friends with Bhodi too, right?" "Yeah." "Cool. We're on the soccer team together, you know." "Right." You finish changing out books and shut your locker. You take a deep breath and give Andrew a level look. Does he mean to smirk? Andy is not a smirker, but maybe he's being super-conscientious at channeling Andrew's asshole personality. Or maybe—and this is the first time such a thought has ever occurred to you—maybe Andrew's smirking is just a quirk of his face muscles. No, he's probably just doing his best Andrew Webb impersonation, you decide as he takes your elbow and propels you down the hall. He's telling you about the guys he hangs out with as you enter the library. Ethan hasn't just found a table, he's pulled two big ones together, and he's draped himself at them with Kaylee at his side. They've already pulled in three others: Darrell Jackson and David Harrell—two more of the popular JV athletes in the sophomore class—and Wendy Ancier. Andrew's touch leaves a burning handprint on your shoulder as he gently guides you into a chair next to Darrell, then drops into the chair on the other side of you. You glance back at the table where you'd normally be sitting. Andy Jensen, Justin Orr, Grant Lowery, and Joe Dickerson are watching your table. You glance away in embarrassment as Grant leans over to mutter something to Justin. "'t'sup?" Darrell asks you. He's wearing a blue hoodie—he's always in a hoodie—and he's got the hood up over his head and his hands sunk into the front pockets. Does he think it makes him look ghetto? With his soft brown hair and his clear white skin, he's just about the whitest guy in the room. "You get that paper written for Mr. Hernandez?" Hernandez, Hernandez ... Right, you had to compose a short paper on the US court system for AP American Government. "Oh. Yeah. Sure. You?" "Didn't gotta. Did the extra credit paper for him last week. Two weeks ago?" His brow crinkles. "So you just skipped this one?" "It covered this one. He told me I didn't have to do it." "Must be nice," you mutter. "You should try doing the extra credit. It's less work over the long haul. Hey man." He leans back and stretches out a hand as Elijah Washington slides behind him. The black basketball player—tall and skinny, with a shy, snaggle-toothed smile—slaps Darrell in a high-five, then squeezes past you to slap hands with Andrew before taking a seat. "'Cha doin' in here, man?" he asks Andrew as he hugs his backpack. His voice is so soft as to be almost inaudible. "Was waitin' f'r your ass outside." "I ran into Ethan." "Yo, man." Elijah jerks his chin at Claybourne. "Wha'bout Riggs?" "He can come find us if he wants. Hey, you got—?" Andrew leans over to fiddle with Elijah's backpack, but Elijah slaps him back. "Getcha hands off. What're you?" "Your geometry homework, man!" "Well ask for it, dumbass." He roots around inside his pack. "Or start studying. What you gonna do when we start gettin' tests?" * * * * * That's what the next fifteen minutes are like. Things only grow more raucous as a shaggy-headed Aaron Riggs lumbers in to sit with Andrew and Elijah, and Johanna Bergstrom joins Wendy and Kaylee. Then three strokes in succession. The first, dreadfully, is Laura Serrano. She comes dragging in behind Leslie Osbourne, who charges straight at Ethan. Leslie is all bright teeth and fabulous hair and pink pearl earrings as she wriggles up next to him, touching him on the shoulder and caressing his neck; Ethan returns her a confident smirk. That's only awkward to watch, but then Leslie pushes Darrell into moving so that Laura can sit with her, which puts Laura right next to you. Fuck. You are not going to hang out with the guys if Laura is going to be friends with them. Maybe you'll talk to Caleb about it, get him to drop a hint to the guys that Lindsay would be a lot happier if Leslie and her— "You okay?" Andrew asks as you suddenly try coughing your tonsils into the crook of your elbow. That's not Leslie Osbourne! That's Mrs. Matthias! Dane's mother! You almost forgot that she was slated to become Leslie. But it must be her, they must have made the switch, because Leslie sure isn't being shy with Ethan; after giving you a sideways glance, she's gone back to playing with his bangs. In fact, she's so obvious about it that Wendy is giving her a look. The second stroke comes when Bradley White drops in next to David and Darrell. Your heart immediately starts running laps inside your chest, and it almost hurts to rip your eyes off him. Shit. He's Lindsay's crush! You scrutinize him. He's nothing real special to your eye. He's tall and lithe, but with shoulders that fill out his shirt. He's very pale, with a shaggy mop of white-yellow hair under a black-and-white ski cap. His eyes are dark and the glint with a mischievous light as he glances around the table. His grin is small but sharp. He leans to the side, putting his arm around Darrell; Wendy squeals, jumps, and whirls on Harrell. Bradley snickers as David protests that he did not pinch her. The third shock, which surpasses the rest, is when Bhodi and Paulina settle in on the other side of Aaron. He and Andrew high-five each other. They're acting totally like they belong at a table with these kids, who they (and Lindsay) don't have much to do with. They're jocks, mostly. Not assholes for the most part—except for Andrew—but they all carry the stink of the gym in their clothes. The girls are either cheerleader wannbes like Kaylee and Wendy, or rich, academic superstars like Leslie and Laura. Oh my God, you suddenly realize. I'm sitting with the "popular kids"! That's who they're turning themselves into! And that's who Bhodi and Andy and the rest of them want their friend Lindsay to hang out with! * * * * * "Yeah, I'm s'posed t'start hangin' out with 'em too," Caleb admits in Michael Duncan's nasal whine when he catches up to you between classes at your locker. "No offense," you reply, "but isn't that gonna look kind of funny to see you with them?" You glance up and down at him. Michael Duncan is the kind of gangly sophomore who can barely keep his feet under him—not at all the type to hang out with basketball players, wrestlers, and snowboarders. "No offense," he retorts, "but isn't it gonna look kind of funny to see you with them?" You make a face. "Not as long as Bhodi and Paulina are hanging out with them too. But it's gonna look kind of funny even for them to be hanging out with Ethan and them. Don't you think? Jesus! I wonder what Paulina is thinking." "You could ask her. Aren't you, like, best girlfriends now?" "Shut up. And I don't want her to start getting suspicious or anything, so we shouldn't say anything to her." "Like I'd even be talking to her." His whine deepens. "She's not someone I even really hang out with, Lindsay." "Well, you're gonna start, I guess." "It'd be easier if you and me were, like, going out together. But I guess that's not gonna happen, right?" You could switch into Bradley's face, you think with a beating heart, then wince internally. "So when Andrew asks you out," Caleb says, "what are you gonna say?" "What?" You wheel on Caleb. He breaks out in an ugly grin. "Oops, I shouldn't have let that slip," he chortles. "But yeah, that's the new plan. If you're not gonna go out with me, maybe you'll go out with one of them. They're really keen, man, on making sure Lindsay's still part of their group, so Andy's gonna try roping her in. I think he's got a crush on her too. So he's planning on hooking up with her. Or, I should say, on hooking up with you." Oh my God. What can you going to say to that without blowing your cover? Next: "The Complicated Love Life of Lindsay Cho" |
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