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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Guys in Dolls"  You? Wear Maria's mask to a party? Is Laurent insane? "I'll pass," you gasp. "I don't—" I don't think I could pull it off, people wouldn't think I was a new girl, they'd just think I was Maria and was lying about who I was. At least, that's the excuse you were going to give. But Chris just runs you over, like a truck squashing a frog. "I'll do it!" he yells, and lunges for the mask. Laurent shoves him. "Rock paper scissors!" he exclaims, and puts out his hand. "Rock paper scissors!" the others shout in unison. It comes out one rock and three scissors. "Rock smash scissors!" Brownie roars, and bashes his friends' hands with his fist. "You know how to get to Dominique's?" Laurent asks you. "Uh, no." "I'll give you a ride out, then. Okay, Ratfucker," he snarls at Chris. "It's between you and me, who gets to be Maria 'til Brownie takes her to the party." He crouches. "Best two falls out of three!" * * * * * You wind up going home shortly afterward, while the others run into town to pick up some cheap, sleazy clothes for Brownie to wear to the party. Noah Lepley is the one who gives you a ride back to the school to pick up your truck. On the way, he asks you about the mask and the book you used to make it, and you give him the story. "You think they got any more books like that up at Arnholms?" he asks when you're done. "I'm pretty sure that's the only copy they had." "I mean in general," he says. Then: "So you're, like, into this stuff?" "What stuff?" "Magic and shit. Wow. I can't believe I just said that." "Said what?" "Magic." He shifts in his seat. "Pretty fucking crazy to think of." "What did you think when Chris showed you the mask? And put it on?" He shrugs. "I dunno. It just kind of blew my mind." His brow furrows. "I think it's still blown. I still can't believe that shit that was happening back there!" You'd agree, though it's not the magic you can't quite grasp. It's what the others were doing with the mask. It was kind of exciting, really, and you wish you had the guts to play along. Or at least you wish you weren't so self-conscious about being so different from everyone else in Laurent's group of friends. Noah drops you off next to your truck, but before driving off he rolls down the window to call you back over. "So what's your name again?" he asks. You fight to keep the grimace off your face. "Will Prescott." "So you know Maria, huh?" "Not really, no." "So how'd you manage to get that thing onto her face?" "By accident. Well ... I kind of snuck up on her in the dark." "Whoa!" Noah's eyes widen, and a grin spreads across his face. "That's all kinds of pervy! I'll have to remember that. See you at Dominique's." He leers at you, then rolls off. * * * * * Your mom is already not expecting you home for supper, so you double-check your supply list against the next spell in the book, and go shopping. It's getting on toward seven by the time you've rounded up all the stuff you need for the next spell. Laurent texts you while you're grabbing a burger and fries, to tell you he'll be along about nine to pick you up. You ask, How longs th party sposed to go? Til we drop, he texts back. You press him a little on details—surely Dominque's parents don't plan on hosting a party that runs until morning—and he tells you that when Dominique's party winds down, they'll go looking for another one. You don't tell him you've got an eleven o'clock curfew, even on Fridays. You don't want to seem lame. Lamer, you reproach yourself, after you pathetic non-performance at Chris's apartment. You've got ninety minutes until Laurent arrives, and you go home to wait. You tell your parents that you'll be going to a party. Your dad, who is watching TV with your mom, only grunts and reminds you of your curfew. Upstairs, you study the next spell to get a head start on it. It requires cutting up some thin metal strips with some shears you bought special, and coating them with some kind of oily mix before carving a set of runes into them. You content yourself with preparing seven of the things—one for each mask, even though you have no idea what they are supposed to do or if they are connected to the masks at all—but don't start on any of the runes. You also field some texts from Caleb and Keith, who are looking for something to do. You bat them away without telling them that you're going to a party. You make a point of changing into a long-sleeve shirt and fresh jeans, and wait outside for your ride. It's almost nine-thirty when Laurent's truck pulls into your drive with a very guttural, masculine roar. There's three figures in the cab, but one of them—Ratliff—leaps out of the passenger side and lofts himself into the back to let you ride shotgun. You flinch when you see what's waiting for you inside the cab. "Ay, lookit'chu!" exclaims the girl in the middle of the bench. "Well, what're ju waiting for?" she asks in the most offensively caricatured Puerto Rican accent you've ever heard. "We gon be late if'n ju don' get in!" Oh, Christ, is this really going to happen? you ask yourself as you clamber in and shut the door. "Brownie?" you mutter. She's dressed in a blue, sleeveless cotton shirt that drapes off her boobs like a waterfall and pours into her lap. Out from under the hem stick her bare, smooth, brown legs—it looks like she's not wearing any pants at all. Her black hair hangs lank down to her shoulders, and she's cinched it in place with a backward-turned ball cap. She snaps bubblegum in your face. "Ay, no!" She exclaims. "My name's Ximena!" Laurent snickers. "It was 'Rafaela' when I picked her up." He guns the engine and punches the truck backward into the street. "It is! Ximena Rafaela Bonita Renata Victoria Daniela Gabriela—" Laurent howls. "You'll never remember all those names!" "I don' got to! All those names, I'll just say Si to anyone'll talk to me!" "And answer Por favor to anyone who asks for a blow job!" Ximena—or whatever her name is—pounds Laurent in the thigh, but he just laughs. "Are we picking up anyone else?" you ask. "No, just us," Laurent says. "Noah's coming separate." "I go in wich'u," Ximena says, and you freeze as she throws an arm around your shoulder. "You my boyfriend, so I don' get hit on." You almost shit yourself, and Laurent laughs so hard he almost steers into a street light. "Wha'ju laugh at?" Ximena demands. "You t'ink I can' get no boyfriend? I show you," she says as Laurent laughs until he shakes. She turns to you. "If Lauren' hit on me, I wan' ju punch 'im out." At that, Laurent actually has to pull over to the side of the road until he can get his breath back. "Oh God, it hurts," he howls as he clutches his stomach. * * * * * Dominique lives in a nice house on the western side of town, not too far from the high school. There's a line of cars up and down both sides of the street, and music thumps out into the night, but the party doesn't look too big or loud. Despite her teasing, "Ximena" doesn't go in on your arm, and for your part you don't try to hold her hand or otherwise signal that you and she are "together." In fact, you are so mortified by Brownie's performance out in the truck that you make a break for it as soon as you are inside, bolting for the dining room to get yourself something to eat and drink. A little later you find Josie Holden in the kitchen with some of the other girl soccer players. She does a double-take and gives you a quick smile, then turns back to Phoebe Beauchamp. "Well, it's bullshit anyway," she says with a snort. "If she was trying to tell Anita what to do, do you think Anita would stand it for one minute?" "She is trying to tell Anita what to do," Phoebe says. "No, she's telling Anita what Anita wants to hear. If Stephanie was telling Anita to sit on her cleats, do you think—?" "Are you talking about Stephanie Wyatt?" you interrupt. "Yes," Josie snaps, then turns back to her friends. They close all together. "Just 'cos she used to be on the soccer squad—" Josie continues. Oh God, you think. It's just like being at school. You're only saved from utter humiliation when you hear your named called. It's Noah. "Hey, c'mere," he says, and gestures you over into the kitchen doorway. "Got something to show you," he says. "Not in here," he adds, and pulls you after. It takes ten minutes for you and him to find someplace to talk, for half a dozen guys and girls try to intercept him as you move from room to room. One of them is "Ximena," and she pulls him into the center of the room to dance and writhe and grind against him to the hot beats pounding out of the stereo. She's already made herself popular, you can tell, for the guys in the room are all grins as they stare at her with rapt intensity. But eventually Noah succeeds in pulling you into a hallway bathroom, which gives you some small privacy even with the door open. "Hey, check it out," he says, and unzips the pack he's been lugging around. He tugs a bluish object halfway out. It takes you a moment to recognize it as a polished mask. "Me and Laurent used a car buffer on ours," he says. "I'm gonna use it on one of the girls here, if you think it's all done." Next: "Back Seat Shenanigans" |
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