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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The New Girl with the Familiar Face"  by Seuzz You've already blown it with Caleb. He was expecting you to follow him back to the theater, and you turned your phone off while changing clothes so you wouldn't get any texts. So you might as well spend the rest of the evening having fun. "So what've you been doing in Saratoga Falls?" Brett asks as he leads you across the street to his car. "Oh just, you know, hanging out. There's not a lot to do here, you know?" "So why do you stay?" "I ran out of money." "Uh huh? So, um, how are you eating?" You have no idea how runaways manage, so you improvise. "Well, there's some shelters and food kitchens, you know. It's not, like, great or anything, but I can get along. And you can scrounge. You know, there's a lot of wasted food around, if you're not picky." "And you're staying down in Acheson, in that old elementary school?" "No, I got chased out of there. I've just been finding places to stay." You tense, because you sense that Brett is about to offer to let you crash at his family's scrap metal place. "Look, don't worry about me," you tell him. "I didn't come along so I could talk about my problems. I came along because I wanted to do something except worry about my problems. So tell me about you." So Brett tells you about himself and his family and their business, and though he doesn't come right out and invite you to stay in their scrap yard, he does go out of his way to describe how someone could get in and hide there and not be found. And on the long drive back up to the minigolf, you find yourself fighting the urge to put your hands on him. Down, girl, you growl at Alex. Isn't it enough that I accepted his invite? * * * * * As he pulls into Monte Viso, you ask Brett to not introduce you to anyone as a "homeless girl" that he picked up. That causes him to groan. "I am such a moron," he says. "What's wrong?" "I totally blew something! I went downtown to meet up with this girl and bring her back here, and I guess I just sort of totally blew her off." "You blew off a date?" "On accident! And it wasn't a date. It was just a girl at school. We got to talking today and kinda said we might do something tonight." A horrible suspicion comes to you. "What was her name?" "You wouldn't know her. Alex Day?" Fuck! You don't know whether to laugh or scream. "You're right," you say. "How would I know her? You gonna go back and pick her up?" Brett hesitates, then pulls into a parking space and kills the motor. "Nah," he says. "I'll just text her tomorrow that I forgot." "I think you should go back and get her." "Nah, it's okay. It wasn't a real date, she just wanted to hang out with us. She's got a full life anyway, and I think she probably just wanted to come along so she could sneer at the golf course. Her family's loaded, they know all about real ones." You son of a bitch, you think, and Brett is now all of a sudden a whole lot less attractive. There's a quartet waiting for you inside, and Brett introduces you as "Lizzie," who he met downtown. He introduces the others to you, and you nod along, even though thanks to Alex's brain you are pretty familiar with them already. Jordan Reynolds is another Eastman basketball player, and his girlfriend, Marcy Gilroy, is another artsy bohemian like Alex. The other couple, Alan Hammett and Caroline Weld, are also part of the school's arts scene, and Alex has a cool but cordial relationship with them all. You tell the others that you're homeschooled and so don't attend any of the local high schools. But you have the impression that Brett at one point takes Jordan aside to tell him about you and how you were at the Acheson elementary school, because Jordan starts giving you funny looks. The game and the company are fun enough, and the hot dog and popcorn are good, but it's not very interesting. You yourself aren't much into the doings at Eastman High, and there's only some tired old gossip for "Alex" to listen to. The only interesting exchange occurs at the sixth hole. Jordan points his putter at a stain of white dust at the next hole. "You see what's missing?" he says. "That's where the windmill was, right?" Alan says. "What happened?" "It was freaky. Joe was crouching down underneath it and Shawn was trying to get at him, and it suddenly just exploded." "Shawn broke it?" Caroline exclaims. "Don't know how it happened. Just ... boom!" "I bet it was Joe's fault," Marcy snorts. "What an idiot." Alan laughs. "Did you hear about what he said in Ms. Cussler's class the other day? She was talking about the transcontinental railroad, and how many people died building it across the Rockies. And Joe says, If it was so hard to build it east to west, why didn't they build it north to south instead?" Caroline laughs. "Was he joking? No one's that dumb!" "Joe is," Jordan says. "Like, his first day at practice—" For the next three holes it's nothing but stories about Joe Durras and the stupid things he has said or done. How in remedial math he regularly adds one-half and one-half to make one-quarter. How in remedial English he identified "buy" as an adverb because it's always used in TV commercials. How he thought that George Washington was just a game mascot, like Uncle Moneybags on Monopoly money, and how his own brother once tricked him into eating a can of dog food by switching the labels with a can of refried beans. Jordan and Brett both admit that some of the stories might not actually be true, but they do insist that Joe is one of the dumbest—"blondest"—guys they have ever met. These stories don't square with the guy who quizzed you hard at the coffee shop earlier this afternoon, and soon Alex's brain is jabbing you in the back of the head. He's an undercover narc, she tells you. But of course you have to pretend like you've never seen or heard of this guy, and you mostly forget about it after the conversation has changed tracks. At the end of the evening, you get Brett to drive you back downtown, telling him that there's a place you mean to crash. He insists on writing down his address and contact info for you, and you promise not to lose it. After he drives away, you climb into your truck, change clothes, pull off the mask, and go home. * * * * * Caleb is white with anger when you catch up to him the next morning before school. "Look, I didn't mean to bail on you," you insist after you're done regaling him with your night's adventures. "I just wanted to get a quick haircut and then I was going to catch up with you. But then all this other stuff happened. And it was totally worth it!" "How do you figure?" he snarls. "It shows how much we can get away with! Why do you want to be stuck playing me at school when we can use these things to go out and have fun and get in trouble?" "You didn't get in trouble!" "I could've." "Exactly!" He jabs you in the breastbone with a sharp fingernail. "I keep telling you, man, you're gonna fuck things up! And then what do you do? You go out and make it fucking worse!" "I got away with it!" "For how long? You're gonna get arrested—" "Not as long as I don't steal something or break in somewhere. Oh, and if it's breaking and entering you're worried about, you and me are already doing that. By the way, what'd you work on last night after I ditched you?" Red spots show in his cheeks. "You really are shameless," he hisses. "You ditch me, then you ask what I worked on. Nothing! I waited for you, then I went home, because there was no fucking way I was gonna go out to a graveyard and shovel four hundred fucking pounds of dirt into the trunk of my car by myself!" "Oh yeah!" You snap your fingers. "I forgot we still need to get that. So you wanna do that tonight?" Caleb wheels and stalks off. * * * * * It takes most of the day for Caleb to cool down, and by that point your conscience is starting to twinge a little. So in the parking lot, after school, you lay your hands on his shoulders. "Caleb, my man," you tell him. "I will take care of the next spell by myself. I'll go get the dirt and put it all together. You won't have to do a damn thing." He just glares at you. "I am all about making it up to you. Tell you what, why don't you take 'Lizze' for a spin tonight? She's, like, practically a real person now. Knows people and everything. Go have fun being her, and I'll go out to the hideout and do all the work for the next spell." Caleb grumbles in the back of his throat, but grudgingly accedes. You tell him to come find you at the theater when he gets off work, and you'll set him up with the mask, clothes, and memory strip that comprise her. But you're still wearing Alex's memory strip as you drive from the high school toward the hideout, and it is buzzing with other schemes. Having made contact with Alex as "Lizzie," it wouldn't be hard now to make a mask, get it onto Alex, and make a complete "Alex Day" disguise. You could probably even lift a credit card off her and splurge before she got it cancelled! You're also still bothered by that guy Joe Durras. Instead of copying Alex, maybe you should use "Lizzie" to copy someone at Eastman who could get you close to Joe, so you could get a memory strip onto him to find out what his deal is. Or maybe instead you should keep your promise to Caleb and work on the next spell. Next: "A Distracted Diversion" |
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