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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Trading Confidences"  help us w deanna today, reads the text from Jessica. Is that a request or a command? u rly need me? you type, but delete it before sending it. With the stink Josiah has been making about giving up Chelsea's mask, it seems like a good idea to keep on everyone's good side by helping out every chance you get. can do whats the plan? you text back, and kick off the sheets as you wait for Jessica's reply, letting the cool morning air flow and drape softly over you. You feel yourself falling asleep again when your phone chimes: no plan yet but stay loose. will call when no more. sounds good, you reply, then scramble for the shower. Jenny never takes long to clean up, and you're very brusque and business-like this morning with the suds and the washcloth and the quick, violent toweling when you emerge into the steaming bathroom. After wrapping yourself in terrycloth bathrobe, you scamper back into the bedroom to check texts again. But Jessica is silent as you dress out in track pants, a t-shirt, and ratty sneakers. You rub the worst of the moisture from your hair and pull it back into a business-like ponytail, then text Jessica to let her know you're all set to help out, that she just has to send you the word. But your plans are nearly derailed when Mr. and Mrs. Ashton surprise you at the breakfast table with a stack of pancakes with a candle in the middle of them. "Happy birthday!" they exclaim. Shit. * * * * * "So where do you want to go for dinner tonight?" Jenny's dad asks as—all embarrassed—you tuck into the birthday pancakes while he and his wife watch. You swallow a mouthful with a great gulp. "Um, James and some of the guys were talking about taking me out tonight," you reply. Now you're glad of James's party idea—if it will get you out of a mortifying birthday dinner with Jenny's family. But then it occurs to you that you haven't heard any more from him about that "party" idea. Is it still on? Mr. Ashton's expression falls. "It's your eighteenth birthday, honey," he says. "I was kind of hoping—" "Charles," Mrs. Ashton says in a warning tone. "I'm sorry," you plead. "Only James was talking about— Lunch?" You look between Jenny's parents. "How about lunch instead? Can we do that?" Mr. Ashton looks disappointed, and even Mrs. Ashton looks a little wan behind her smile. "That sounds like a great idea," she says. It is her eighteenth birthday," she tells her husband, "you can't blame them if all her friends want to take her out—" "Alright, lunch," he says. "But can we make it special? How about Taco Famoso?" "Dad!" Taco Famoso is locally infamous for its bad—even noxious—Mexican food. It only stays open (Mr. Ashton has joked) because someone has to be the worst restaurant in town and Taco Famoso drew the short straw. "That's not where you were going to take me for dinner, were you?" "It was going to be my second choice." "And what was your first?" "Ristorante Locarno?" Wow. From the crappiest to the best restaurant in town. "Can we go there for lunch?" "Are you sure you don't want a Famoso quesadilla?" "I think that's where James and them are going to take me." Mr. Ashton laughs, and that settles lunch plans. * * * * * After breakfast you call Jessica to warn her that you won't be able to help until early afternoon, and she says they'll try to take that into account. "Why do you need me?" you ask. "Because we're not sure if we're going to be able to get away to help," she replies. "You're not the only one with a family life, you know." "Are you going to be able to make it to my party tonight?" "What party?" "The one I told you about last week! For my birthday! The one that James—" "Is that still on? Because I haven't heard any more about it." "I better be having a party! It's my excuse for having lunch instead of dinner with—" You shove your bedroom door closed and lower your voice. "With Jenny's parents." "You still call them 'Jenny's parents'? Jesus, our parents have been 'mom and dad' now for—" "What do you call Marc?" "Our goofball brother. Do you want him along tonight? If that party's still on?" "I think it's on, but I better make sure. Bring him along, sure, if it is." "Because he's bound to bring Hannah along if does. Fuck, did Eva tell you about what happened the other night, while the rest of us were out and they were here alone?" "I don't think so." "Well, remind her to tell you. Here's a preview. Marc and Hannah, in his bedroom, when they thought they had the house to themselves." "Oh God. No!" "Totally. It's even grosser than you can imagine. Wait, sounds like we're about to go. Text one of us when you're done with lunch." She hangs up. * * * * * Lunch is pleasant and low-key, though there is one moment of tension when your phone chimes and you have to turn it off because your dad wants you to himself on this very special day. Because you don't want to ruin things for him, you linger instead of rushing through the meal, and let him take you and your mom on a drive through the hill country west of town. You have the impression he'd like to do more, but Mrs. Ashton makes an excuse to get you back to town. After that, it's almost a relief to check your phone and find the lunchtime text came from Josiah, saying that it's up to you to get Deanna someplace where you and he can make a mask and a replacement. Deanna's stock in trade in gossip—which is mainly why Jenny dislikes her so much—and you're at a loss on how to bait her into a meeting until you remember that tidbit Jessica dropped about Marc and Hannah being "gross" up in his bedroom. So you text Deanna to ask what she's heard about that. nothing, she texts back, and adds a breathless-sounding, whats the story? meet me at top shelf storage in hour, you reply. She pesters you for more, but you put her off with no time now talk then. After that you text Josiah to finish setting things up. "What do you want to be Deanna for?" you ask when you connect with him outside the climate unit some forty minutes later. He's looking more rabbity than usual; you'd swear his tiny pink nose is quivering with excitement, and his unblinking stare unnerves you. "She's such a nitwit." "I don't ask why you wanted to be Jenny," he retorts. "She's a fucking toast rack." You give him a dirty look. "Is it on account of her boobs?" you ask as you tap in the door code. "There's girls with better boobs than Deanna. What about Genesis Lee? Or Susie L? They're sweet, and they gotta melons you couldn't fit in both hands." "Why don't you just shut the fuck up?" "The fuck is the matter with you? I know you're pissed at me 'cos I made you get out of Chelsea's mask—" "What do you need me for if you're gonna answer your own fucking questions?" You come this freaking close to hauling off and punching him. "Look, let's just try to get along," you tell him in a voice coiled with fury. "At least, let's just get this job done without killing each other. I don't like Deanna and you don't like me, so after we do this thing how about we just don't have anything to do with each other?" "Sounds great." He yanks open the door and stalks off toward Carlos's studio without waiting for you. So it's a tense thirty-minute wait before Deanna shows up, during which you silently cruise the internet on your phone. You feel a flood of relief when you get the text from Deanna: im here were r u? You go out to meet her, and instantly she starts pestering you: "What's all the mystery?" "No mystery," you tell her. "I've got some storage stuff I'm having to move, and it makes sense to talk to you out here. I don't want to do it over texts or over the phone." "It sounds mysterious, Jenny," she insists. You give her a sidelong glance. She's trying to beguile you with a smile, which would work better if it wasn't rolled up inside a doughy face. Not that Deanna is fat, exactly, but she does carry lots of soft poundage, particularly on her hips. Maybe that's why Josiah wants her: she's squishy with femininity. "Well, I don't want it getting any further," you tell her, "on account of Eva would be really pissed at me. But she's not telling me what happened anyway. But Marc and Hannah—" You improvise a story about Marc and Hannah getting up to no good in his bedroom. You don't have to work at it long, though, because it takes you less than a minute to get down to Carlos's studio, and you're just starting to weave in a bit about bedsprings when you round the corner. Almost you walk into disaster, for Josiah springs at you with a mask. You jump aside with a yip before he can connect, and he catches himself, but you bump into Deanna as you dive away. There's a brief and confused scramble before you wage in to grab the girl about the torso. You only know it's all over when you feel her dragging you down to the concrete. "Fuck. Oh, fuck!" you exclaim as you pull yourself from the wreckage; Josiah more nimbly springs up and leans over his alias-to-be. Deanna lolls on the floor with her mouth and eyes open. "Okay, you can fuck off now," Josiah tells you. "I can handle it from here." "Good. I'm gone." You brush yourself off and turn toward the door. "Oh, but hey," he calls after you. "I heard you're having a birthday party tonight." "Who told you that?" "Carlos. Dur. So where's it at, what time? I wanna show up as her." He points to Deanna. Next: "Gag Gifts and Otherwise" |
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