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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of"  You fob Caleb off with a noncommittal answer. But later, after you've confirmed with Jamie that he's going to be busy this afternoon getting you a "sweet thing" with the mask, you tell Caleb you'll take him up on that offer to hang out at his place. Still, you decide not to say anything to him for now about your extracurricular project, and you just play games with him on the ancient Xbox he inherited when his dad left him. Tilley comes over too, and when Caleb's mother comes home from work you and he wind up eating with the Johanssons. It's not the most substantial meal in the world—oven-baked mac-and-cheese—but it's warm and homey. Afterward, as you and Keith trudge out to your cars together, one thought follows on another, and you ask him, "You ever think about your friends' moms?" "Like how?" Keith asks. "Like, if they can cook?" He rubs his belly. "No, like— Well, never mind," you stammer when you realize you don't really want to raise the subject. But it's too late. When you glance back you find Tilley frozen to the ground, staring at you with his jaw hanging open. "Dude," he murmurs, "are you asking me about Caleb's mom?" "No! Well, not like that!" you protest. "Oh, so like how?" You feel yourself turning a bright red. In your confusion, you manage to say just about the worst thing possible: "I mean, we got other friends who have moms!" "Yeah, but we're not over at Lamont's house, are we?" Keith retorts. "We're at Johansson's, and you just asked me—" "Wait, Lamont's mom?" you yelp. "Are you telling me you think Lamont's mom is—?" "Hey! Don't change the subject!" Now it's Keith's ears that are reddening. "But that is what I'm talking about! Except, not about Caleb's mom! And I don't think she is, anyway." Keith glances back at Caleb's house. "Well, I seen worse," he says. "I mean, if it came to repopulating the planet, I'd—" "Oh, God!" you cry. "Jesus! Don't make me think about what kind of monsters we'd get if we had to use your pudding to repopulate the human race!" "So I'd do it with your mom instead, asshole!" And he means it, you can tell, for he instantly pales and stammers out an apology. "Hey man, I'm sorry, I didn't—" "Oh, forget it. Fuck me for even raising the subject. All I learned is that you're just as disgusting as some other people I know." "Who was talking about Caleb's mom?" "No one! I just got into a conversation with someone about MILFs is all." "So who'd you wind up saying had a MILF?" You whirl to give him a hard stare. "No one. I don't know any," you lie. "What about you? Who do you think has a MILF?" Keith stares back. Then he says, "James Lamont," snapping his jaws shut around the name. He stalks off to his car on very stiff legs, and doesn't wave to you before driving off. * * * * * Jamie texts you to meet him in the student parking lot the next morning. You assume he wants to gloat over the mask he made. But when you find him hunched over and hiding between two cars, with a pale face and staring eyes, you feel your sphincter loosen. What's he fucked up? you wonder. "Hey man," he greets you in a low voice. "I got a super-gigantic favor to ask." "What happened?" you demand, bracing for the worst. "My mom got a call from the school. One of the counselors wants to meet with her about my grades." "Yeah?" He stares at you. "So I can't let her talk to them! She'll kill me!" "What's wrong with your grades?" "Whaddayu fucking care? So I been skipping most of my classes! Pthbt! No one gave a shit last year!" he whinnies. "So what do you want me to do about it?" You should have guessed the answer before you see it in the look he gives you. "So can you go in and meet with them, you know, pretending to be her? I brought her mask 'n stuff." You have to lean against a car to keep yourself from crumpling. "Why can't you do it?" "Because I'm supposed to go in with her for the meeting! But if you go in with me, you know, it looks totally legit!" "Oh, Jesus!" You pinch the bridge of your nose. "I'll owe you forever for this. Anything you want! Anything with the masks!" A fast, terrified smile breaks out across his face, and a giggle bubbles up from somewhere beneath his diaphragm. You let out a deep sigh. "So how is this supposed to work? When's the appointment?" "Today, sixth period. They set it up with my mom by text." "Shit! It won't work, then! She'll show up the same time as me!" "No, 'cos I figured it out. I'll go in now to the counselors' office, and I'll tell them my mom said to ask them to move it to tomorrow, and ask them to text her telling her about the time change. Then you'll show up, saying that you changed your mind and that you can meet with 'em today!" "And what happens tomorrow, when your mom—?" "I'll get a note from the counselor— Or you will. Saying I had the meeting with them and this is what we decided and that they don't have to talk to her for the rest of the semester." He unfurls another terrified grin. You stare at him. "That is the shittiest plan I ever heard." "Come on, Will!" He hops on the balls of his feet. "I'm the one who'll get in trouble if things get fucked up, it won't hurt you at all!" That is a point, you decide. As long as Jamie can guarantee that his mom won't show up at school today, nothing can go wrong for you personally. "Okay," you tell him. "But I can't go in until seventh period. That's when I've got my study hall." "Thanks, you're saving my life!" Jamie gives you a quick hug, which almost gives you a full body sprain when all your muscles simultaneously seize up. "And like I said, I will owe you anything if we pull this off!" * * * * * You are hot and sticky when you wake up, and you bang your head on the roof of the car when you sit up. Dammit, you mutter as you rub your crown. You glare out the window and try to place yourself. It takes only a second—much quicker than the last time you woke up inside the mask of Meghan Rennerhoff. You give your left breast a quick, appreciative squeeze, then hunker back down into the back seat. It's seventh period, and no one should be in the student parking lot. But yet, here you are, so it's best to be cautious. Quickly you dress yourself in the same clothes that you went shopping in last Saturday—exercise shorts and top; tennis shoes—and sling your workout bag over your shoulder. You have your cell phone with you, and text Jamie to say that you're on your way in. There's a cool breeze blowing under a cloudy sky—tomorrow's the first day of October. Tanning bed season coming up, you find yourself thinking. Jamie's eyes and grin light up when he sees you coming down the hallway toward him. Before he can say anything, you tweak him by the ear. "What kind of trouble are you in, kiddo?" you demand. He twists away and suppresses a gasp of laughter. You smile tightly at him, and pull open the door to the counselors' offices. They're arranged like fishbowls inside of fishbowls: personal offices enclosed by floor-to-ceiling glass walls, all packed in behind the floor-to ceiling glass wall that separates them from one of the school's main corridors. There's half a dozen counselors at work, most of them in earnest one-on-one conference with a student. "We have to see Ms. Welch," Jamie murmurs, and tugs you toward one of the offices in the back, where a small woman in a pinstripe jacket is bent over her laptop. Oh, her, you think as she looks up. I've seen her in the halls. She's way cute. So she is: youthful and fresh-faced, with large brown eyes under brunette hair (pulled back in a bun) that glows with ruby highlights. Sexy librarian. She turns a startled expression up at you as you enter. "Ms. Welch, I'm Jamie's mom," you introduce yourself as you put out a hand. "I know we were supposed to reschedule, but my other appointment got cancelled so it turns out I'm free." You smile and settle yourself into the chair opposite. "Oh," Ms. Welch says with widening eyes. "Okay." You've wrongfooted her, but you just lean back in your chair and smile expectantly. "Let me just, um—" She searches through some folders on her desk, and a pink spot shows on her forehead. "Just a minute." She pushes herself to her feet and exits. "This is so awesome!" Jamie gushes at you from the chair next to you. "This is so totally going to work!" "Remember, you owe me." "Sure." He jogs his leg like a jackhammer. "It's Ms. Wymer," he says, leaning over to murmur the name. When you stare at him, he says, "The mask. I'm gonna use it on Ms. Wymer." "From my pottery class?" you exclaim. Jamie grins. "I knew you'd know who she was! You being my mom and all." You stare. He's right, you placed the name without even realizing it. "And if you let me wear it," Jamie continues, "I'll let you fuck me." Before you can react, he adds, "Only you have to wear that mask of me while you do it." Next: "Do As I Do" |
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