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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Baseline Rally"  by Masktrix You settle on telling Shelly everything. The problem with the mask is that you’d be unconscious after using it, and if Ian arrives then you won’t be able to act. This isn’t just for your protection, but Shelly’s too. The girl is too naïve, and Ian’s trust in his cousin completely misplaced. Shelly’s excitement is practically bursting from the seams as you step into her workshop. “I was just starting to look at the fifth spell. I have no idea what ‘pedisequos’ means. Foot follower? We need a lot of material to do this one, though. And I mean A. LOT. Dead soil, I think? That can’t be right. Anyhoo, how’d it go? Did you get Kelsey Blankenship? Was it fun? It must have been so much fun!” You shake your head. “It was a disaster. Coach Acuna came back to school. I narrowly missed getting spotted, but Ian was with me to make sure no one walked in while I was out. Until that point, he thought I was you. I think he’s coming over here to tell you not to trust me.” Shelly folds her arms. “Why did he think you were me?” “He just assumed and I didn’t say otherwise. I’m sorry. But you can’t let Ian tell Rich Austin anything about this. If Ian spills, we’ll get our asses kicked." “That explains why Ian’s been messaging me for the last freakin’ hour, saying not to talk to you until we’ve spoken face-to-face,” Shelly says. She closes the book and abruptly changes the subject. “Did you get Kelsey? And eesh, what happened to your ears?” “Forgot to take off Acuna’s earrings, so they materialized in mine.” You fish out the spare mask from your bag. “And I didn’t get Kelsey, either. So this one's still blank.” Shelly picks it up, examines it briefly, then sets it back down and opens the buffing machine. “So's this one,” she says, and springs at you. That’s twice you’ve been taken by surprise. *** You wake on the floor. It takes only a brief second of cold air to realize you’re in your underwear, and a very familiar figure is standing above, watching you stir. You glare up at a new Will Prescott, just as he finishes dressing in your clothes. “The fuck, dude,” the other you says. “You thought about using a mask on my mom.” “I didn’t do it.” “You thought about it.” The second Will leans over, jabbing a finger to his temple. “I’ve got your thoughts, man. I am you. Shit, all the way here you thought about using this mask to steal the book from the coven.” “But I didn’t.” You are answered by the briefest of shrugs. Shelly’s hurt and, fuelled by your own mind, is in a particularly mean mood. “You’re still a liar, though. You lied about knowing magic. And you lied to Ian. You lie to everyone. Shit, you even lied to yourself all summer about Lisa.” “I didn’t lie to you about Ian’s cousin.” The other Will Prescott grows a little quiet as he ponders this. “No, you didn’t. Ian messaged me again while you were unconscious, so I told him I wasn’t home and to meet at the Koffee Kauldron. You’re right, we can’t let Austin, Thomason and Rennerhoff anywhere near the Libra.” You watch as your twin scratches his chin in embarrassment. “I’m sorry I used a mask on you. I needed to know if you could be trusted and the only real way was to become you.” “What did you decide?” “I don’t know because you don’t know! Your stupid mind makes its own rules. But, as far as I can tell, every choice you’ve made was for a good reason. It was because you’re worried about me.” Shelly stoops down to pulls you up and then, in a moment of surreal discomfort, your double gives you a hug. “You’re just chaotic neutral, Will. You’re as lost as I am.” “You have no idea how surreal it is talking to myself.” “I have every idea,” Shelly says amid a muted laugh, head pressed against your shoulder. “Friends? And no, I’m not going to let you kick me in the nutsack for payback.” “Friends. Just take off the mask. It’s seriously creeping me out.” Shelly shakes her – your? – head. “No way! It’s fucking awesome cosplaying as you. I’m a boy! I can stay out at night as long as I want. Maybe I’ll go to the movies and see Howling Skies with Keith and Caleb. Werewolves and air pirates? Hell yes. Or there’s a band I heard about in class playing somewhere called the Warehouse on Friday. I can’t go, but you could probably get in. You’ve spent your life like a blank Scrabble tile, but that’s going to change. I’m Will Prescott, the goddamn Chosen One. And I’m going to be the best fucking Will Prescott ever.” The new you is kind of a jerk. You point to your replica’s pierced ears. “You think my mom’s not going to see that?” “I’d be more worried about the tennis team telling everyone about your weird crashing of their court session. I still don’t get why didn’t you just ignore the court, head back here and retrieve the mask later. You see what I mean about being chaotic neutral? So, so random. As for mom… even if I get grounded for a couple of days, it’s still better than being the real me.” It’s a surprising moment of honesty. “What do you mean?” “I’m not stupid. People laugh at me behind my back. I know it’s high school, but it doesn’t make it right. I heard your friends in the cafeteria who think I’m just a stupid freshman. And when I had Coach Acuna’s brain, I saw how she viewed me. ‘Oh, little Shelly Nolan is sweet, she gets an A for effort but a C for ability.’ Even my favorite teacher thinks I’m a loser. I don’t want that life. Not when I can take yours.” “You can’t take my life.” “I already have,” the new Will says. “Which leaves a big, gaping hole where Shelly Nolan should be.” You know what she’s hinting at. You shake your head. “No.” But, you soon discover, it’s pretty much impossible to argue with yourself. Especially when the other you has two minds, a book of spells and all of your clothes. *** You’ve never really wanted to be anything specific in life, but you certainly never wanted to become this. The ride into town – your new mom giving you a lift after you promise that you’ll stay put until she’s finished picking up Halloween supplies at Walmart – is a crazy fever dream of thoughts, feelings and memories. Michelle Nolan’s mind is like a funfair, as colorful as the pastel jacket you’ve thrown on. When she can focus, she’s brilliant. She thrives in subjects that let her imagination go wild, used to hate sports until Westside (where Coach Acuna became the first P.E. teacher to treat her as more than an inconvenience), and gets bored with just about everything else. You’re still getting to grips with the pace of her thoughts as you head into the Koffee Kauldron, where Ian is waiting for you impatiently. “Here I am,” you say, throwing yourself into the cushion next to him. “What’s up? Didn’t I tell you we’d get you out of detention? Awesome, right? Was Will dressed as Coach Acuna? Could you tell? What’s with the messages?” Ian looks at you warily. “Shell. What’s my favorite book?” You let your eyes go wide in excitement. A test. Shelly likes tests. Now that you can remember the full conversation Shelly had with Ian earlier today, you know she didn’t tell him about the bands. He still thinks the masks can only copy someone’s appearance, not their mind. “Ooh, you’re checking I’m really me?” You lean over and whisper. “It’s that one you keep telling me to read, with the internet samurai and a robot attack dog.” “What did you go as for Halloween last year?” “Duh, Ginny Weasley. Same thing I go as every year. You were Deadpool.” Before that you were always Anne of Green Gables, deliberately underplaying the one day of the year where cosplay is cool. Your mom always offers to make you any mask you want, but you aren’t interested. “And when did we first kiss?” “Ew!” you punch him on the arm. “Don’t be gross.” Shelly is truly oblivious to his very obvious crush. “We’ve never kissed. Ugh, what kind of secret question is that?” Satisfied, if a little disappointed by your reaction, Ian begins to explain how ‘Prescott’ is a liability and probably wants to steal the book from you. You just let Shelly’s brain handle it, taking a back seat while you squeak that you don’t want Ian to tell his cousin. Why? Because you’re the FREAKIN’ WITCH OF WESTSIDE. You can handle Will Prescott. Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone Ian, yeesh. Who cares if Prescott tricked you? Maybe don’t be so gullible next time. And yes, please, you’d like a diet soda. And one of those pink cookies. Thanks. Twenty minutes later, you’re still unsure if you’ve dissuaded Ian. Shelly’s mind is convinced he won’t talk, but as Will you know a kid like Ian Cowdray is going to cave sooner or later. You, Shelly and Ian are all in very real danger. You’re also certain that talking to Ian any more won’t help: all you can do is put a plan in place and hope you can cope with whatever comes next. So, when Mrs Nolan begins to hover by the door, you hop up, tell Ian to stop worrying, down your soda and rush to her side. As a final convincer, you spin around to face him, silently mouth ‘MAGIC IS REAL!’ in a pose taken from a scream queen poster, and skip out, beaming like the real Shelly would. It’s only during the drive back to Acheson, pretending to listen to your mom talk about Grandpa Walt’s hip replacement, that you step back from your Shelly persona and realize anyone in the café could have seen or heard you. You doubt it matters. Nobody else knows about the power of the Libra, do they? Next: "Freakin' Tuesday" |
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