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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/971497
by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2193834
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#971497 added December 29, 2020 at 12:25pm
Restrictions: None
Joey and You and You
Previously: "A Date with JoeyOpen in new Window.

"Yeah, we can get together tomorrow," you tell Joey. "Your place is fine." You diplomatically decline to comment, though, about whether it will be just the two of you.

* * * * *

But the next day, Jenny quickly makes it clear that she will not be participating anymore. You're still some yards off when she looks up and sees you approaching from across the front quad. She hurls her food away and runs up, grabbing you by the arm and hauling you away from Caleb and Keith.

"Did you get your shit back?" she growls at you through gritted teeth.

You blink. "You mean—?"

"You know what I mean! Did you get it back?"

"You dropped it off at Joey's."

"I know what I did with it!" Her eyes blaze. "Did you get it back?"

"No, it's still out at her place! I'm going out there this afternoon, though. Jesus!" You twist out of her grip. "What's your deal?"

"You just keep that shit away from me. And Joey, too!"

"What?" You jump back as Jenny bunches up a fist.

"I got in a whole fuckload of trouble yesterday because of that stunt you pulled," she hisses at you. "We had to call the fucking paramedics out there because of you! My parents are all in a fucking panic about it. Like, what if you'd died out there, in our garage, at my house?"

"Well, I didn't!"

"You could have! You don't even know what you're fucking around with. God! Will!" Now she bunches up both fists and puts them in your face. "You can't come over to my house anymore. And stay away from Joey!"

As she turns back toward her friends, you remind her, "I have to go out to her place to pick the stuff up."

She wheels around again. "You pick it up and you take it away and you don't talk to her again! We're still friends, Will, you and me, here at school. But don't you try taking advantage of Joey. Kill yourself in your own garage, if you're going to kill yourself someplace."

She stomps back over to where the others are sprawled out, taking her seat again. You stare after her, bemused, for a minute, then saunter over to join them all. Once you're seated, Jenny talks brightly and happily to you, as though no words at all had passed between you.

* * * * *

You probably could have talked Jenny into coming out to Joey's by telling her that Joey is really keen to keep working on your "project." But that would probably just lead to fireworks of a different kind, so it seems best to just not say anything.

And as for bringing out a different "third" person to act as a buffer between you and Joey? You still have the same qualms about introducing Joey to Caleb or Keith, you doubt that Carson and James could refrain from telling Jenny about what you're up to if you got one or both of them out there.

So that really just leaves you alone with Joey.

Which means you're just going to have to put your foot down and make it clear to her that there isn't going to be anything between you and her. You'll be friends, and you'll work on this "project" with her—well, maybe; even that you're undecided on—but there can't be any question about there being anything more between you.

Though on the drive out to her place after school, you can't help second-guessing yourself: Why shouldn't there be something between you? She is bright, and eager, and—dammit—cute.

Oh, right. It's because she's got that weird "home-schooled" vibe. She spends more time with books than with people.

At least you've lost that first-impression suspicion that she might be a lesbian. After spending more time with her, you're pretty sure that she dresses and styles herself in flannel and blue jeans because she still sort of thinks of herself as being in the seventh grade.

* * * * *

She asked you to text her before you left school, so that she'd know you were on your way over. Her reply comes while you're on the road: Okay text when you get here so I can let you in. My parents are away.

It makes your heart go sideways in your chest. Two feelings vie for control of your gut. Whoa, maybe she's gonna try making out with me! And: Shit! Maybe she's gonna try making out with me!

Jenny lives in a very middle-class sort of neighborhood, but the Tartagliones, though they live only a few blocks away, live in a much larger house: a two-story mountain of burgundy-colored stone that looks like three separate houses fought for possession of the lot and wound up in a dogpile. There's a carriage drive out front, and another driveway that leads around to the rear. A second text from Joey told you pull around behind the house and park in front of the garage, but you find two garages—one detached—when you park. im here, you text her, in case she wasn't watching from a window.

One sec, she replies. When nothing immediately happens, you get out and lean against your truck and squint at the house, trying to spot which of the half-dozen windows that look down at you from the second floor might be hers. From a couple of houses down comes the bark of a dog.

Promise me you won't freak out, Joey texts. As you ponder what that means, she texts again: Promise?

ok,
you reply, as you feel yourself starting to freak out just at the question.

With a buzz and a hum, the white garage door starts to lift. You cock your head as you watch it lift, peering into the darkness within to try spotting the thing you're not supposed to freak out about.

You see nothing but an empty space where a car should be parked, and another empty space where a wine-dark sedan sits. Oh, and Joey, of course.

Except it's not Joey.

Oh, she's dressed like Joey, in dark jeans and a black t-shirt with a long-sleeve purple-and-white plaid shirt draped around her shoulders. But she's a lot taller than Joey. She's about your height, in fact, And her hair is a lot shorter, or so you'd guess, from the way it sticks out like a wind-blown haystack from under a white, squashed-up ball cap. Whoever she is, she grins at you like she knows you.

But is it a girl? It's a more masculine face. Oh, shit, you think with some embarrassment as you adjust your expectations. It must be her brother.

Only after the door is fully raised, and the figure has grinned at you for a full count of five or so, and croaked out a greeting—"Hey, Will. What do you think?"—do you recognize him.

He's you.

* * * * *

After you finish freaking out—

Which, you would hastily add, if you were telling Caleb or one of your other friends about it, only consisted of you grabbing the side of your truck for support as you slowly sank to your knees so you could pick your jaw up off the ground.

—you hustle yourself into Joey's garage and pull her—him?—in after you. "Joey?" you squeak in a strangled voice.

"Yeah!" she giggles. "Except you'd never guess it, would you?" She goes up on her toes and twirls so you can see yourself, briefly, from the back.

"The fuck? How—?"

Oh, but you can guess. You don't know the details, but you can sketch the broad outline.

"It's your mask," she says. "I finished it. Um, Jenny brought it over with the other stuff? Which is over there?" She points to the corner of the garage, throwing out her arm and finger, which are shaped just like yours, like a girl. "And I finished it up this morning?"

You grab her by the shoulder, then let go like she's on fire. I'm touching myself! you think in something like panic. "What—?" But that's all you can force out.

"Here, let me show you," she says, and hops over to the cardboard box. She picks up the book, which is resting on top.

"That page you were stuck on?" she says. "It turned loose. There was this ... oval ... thing. It's gone now—I dunno—this stuff is so freaky. Anyway, I turned the page and read and translated the back of it last night after you dropped me off? And it talked some more about what you had to do, how it works?" She smiles at you, brightly. "Did you know you can use this stuff to make new people?"

"New people?" you echo in some alarm. "What do you mean?"

"Well, not like making new people. But you can mix different faces and bodies inside a mask, to make a mask of someone who doesn't exist. But I just went with yours, with the mask you made of yourself. You know." Her eyes glint. "The one I'm wearing."

Yeah, it's hard to miss that fact ...

"But you have to seal it up before you can put it on. That's what the next spell is," she continues, "it shows you how to make this paint or something that you put on the inside of the mask to seal it up so you can wear it. It turns out you already had all the ingredients." She points into the box, where Jenny had packed up all the crap that you'd brought over to her place. "So this morning I made up some of the stuff and put it inside your mask. To seal it."

"Instead of doing your schoolwork," you dryly observe.

"I did my schoolwork! Only I did this too. And then my mom— Oh crap!" She wheels and punches a button on the wall, and the garage door grinds away as it shuts. "I should get out of it before she gets back home. She's off at her basket-weaving class. But I drove into town for a quick, you know, visit to Goodwill, to get some clothes like the kind you wear." She throws out her arms. "So I could surprise you. Did I?" she asks when you don't answer. "Surprise you?"

"Uh, yeah!" You gulp. "So, uh—" You pull at your shirt. "What do you want to do now?"

"We have that other blank mask," she says. "You want me to put it on? So then you can put it on?"

Next: "TurnaboutOpen in new Window.

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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/971497