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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Fail Safes" "I don't mind going to a party," you tell Jake. "And nothing says that you and me, that we have to, you lknow—" You point between his face and yours. "If we go along too." Jake winces. "Well," he sighs as he resumes packing up the stuff you used to make the masks, "as long as we both tell them that." This is going to work out fine, you think. With Kian and Kyler hot to have fun, you should have no trouble outvoting Jake whenever it's time to do a new spell. * * * * * As Jake predicted, the other two are already talking about where to go and what to do on this, a Friday night. You're too excited to be made nervous by their talk, even though partying and dancing is not something you do very much of, and you don't know any of the friends they mention. You do side with Jake, though, when talk veers toward going to the Warehouse. That's the most dangerous party spot in the city—a deserted warehouse in the city's post-apocalyptic industrial zone, where hordes of high school kids go on weekends to dance, drink, do drugs, and all manner of other things without a single adult around to supervise. It sounds like fun, but you have also heard stories of the fights that break out, and the kind of kids who hang out there are the kind that you do your best to avoid when you're at school. Jake joins you in persuading the other two to make it a less wild night. Kian finally agrees that "this stuff"—he points to the masks that he and Kyler are finishing—is "wild" enough. You supervise as they up by putting on the masks they made. Kyler and Kian lay out on the two sofas, their eyes gleaming and their smiles shining, as you loom over them with the masks. Jake is very white as you remind them that the masks are going to knock his friends out for a bit. When Kian asks if it's going to hurt, you tell him that it won't, even though you have no idea what it will do. Despite your warning, Jake sucks in a sharp breath as the first mask sinks into Kyler's face, like a stone slipping beneath the surface of a pond without making a ripple, and he visibly tenses all over when you settle the second mask onto Kian. "Jesus," he says in a voiceless whisper, and hustles over to cabinet. From it he plucks a bottle of whiskey and small glass. His hand trembles as he pours himself a finger of liquor and downs it. He chokes and gasps, then pours himself another. "My dad's," he mumbles he hands the glass and bottle to you. "He doesn't know I know where he keeps it. Oh, this stuff," he moans as he turns his back on you and his prostrate friends. "This fucking stuff." "If you don't like it," you ask him, "why are you helping out?" He shoots you a baleful glare over his shoulder. "Why the fuck did you have to be so fucking careless with that—?" He glances all around the storeroom, as though searching for something. "That fucking thing you made?" "I wasn't careless with it," you retort. "I had it hidden in my room. It wasn't my fault that my mom— What are you doing?" you ask as he starts searching inside some nearby cabinets and drawers. He doesn't answer, but sighs with visible relief when he pulls a mask—the mask of that Rachel girl, surely—from under some comforters that are inside a bureau. He looks around, as though searching for another hiding place. You watch with bemusement as he stalks over to a large trunk and shuts the mask up inside it. You can't help smirking at him. "You think that'll stop your mom from going through your things and finding—" "Just shut the fuck up, okay?" Jake brushes past you to stare down at his friends, hands on his hips. "How long are they gonna be like this?" "I told you, like, ten minutes." He cusses to himself and settles on the arm of the easy chair. You've still got the whiskey bottle and glass, and after pouring yourself a small drink you offer them to him. He waves you off. "It's fucking Kyler's fault," he mutters after another silence. "I mean, it's your fault, but if Kyler hadn't—" They didn't tell you what happened, or how Kyler came to be wearing the mask of Rachel Whosists. But you've got a pretty good idea of how it happened. He found it, goofed off with it, and frightened the fuck of his friends when he vanished and that girl appeared in his place. Frightened the fuck out of himself, too, no doubt. "Anyway," Jake continues, mutter mostly to himself, it sounds like. "We should get rid of it all, but as long as we can't—" He swings around to give you a long, hard, penetrating look. "What?" you ask. "Nothing, I guess," he says, and turns away again. But a shiver ripples over his shoulders. "I'm just thinking— Kyler's going to be the one who gets us in trouble." "How come?" "Because he's a trouble-maker. He gets in trouble and he gets other people to go along and then they get in trouble." "Really? I don't know him. He doesn't seem to talk much when I'm around." "He doesn't talk a lot, period," Jake retorts. "He just grins at you, and the next thing you know, you and him are breaking into some guy's house to clean his folks out of some cash that he happened to spot them having." Your eyes widen. "He's done that?" Jake sucks in his lips and nods. "Jacob Metcalf," he says. "Him and Kian and some other guys were over at Jacob's place. A couple of days later, Kyler's flashing around a roll of bills, saying he got them out the kitchen drawer at Jacob's place, or something. He broke in when they weren't home. It wasn't Kian who busted in with him, though, it was Shawn Hardin. You know any of these guys?" You shake your head. "Just you, from Mr. Hawks' class." "Oh yeah," Jake says. "Anyway, that's the kind of thing he does." You lean past Jake to look over at Kyler. Even splayed on the sofa he looks very meaty. His eyes are open but his gaze is blank, and his jaw sags open. There's no personality on his face. But you remember that grin he usually wears—wide, white and mischievous, with beady eyes glinting out from under his bangs—and you find that you can imagine someone (yourself even, maybe) being coaxed and enticed into doing something against your better judgement. "So why do you hang out with him?" you ask. Jake sags. "I wouldn't," he says, "except for Kian. Me and Kian've been best friends since middle school. But he started hanging out with Kyler at the start of the summer. I mean— God!" He writhes and shudders. "We even used to talk about how creepy Kyler could be! How trash he was! But then they got talking at a pool party, and Kyler just turned him around, just twisted him around his—! Kian just got fascinated by him!" Jake has started to shake, you notice. He covers it by lurching to his feet and pacing in a tight circle, the dusty floorboards creaking beneath him. After a half dozen circuits, he stops with a pained look on his face. His eyes twist up as he looks at you. "Kian's gay," he says in a low voice. "And Kyler's— Well, I think he'd shove his dick into anything." He presses the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. "I don't know how to tell Kian that Kyler's— Because I don't want him thinking I'm— 'Cos that's not how come—!" Then you're both distracted by a glow that appears on Kyler's face. A moment later, the mask materializes there. A few seconds later, the second mask appears on Kian's. Carefully, you peel the masks off them. Their eyes have fallen shut, and they look like they're sleeping peacefully. Jake lets out his breath. "Now what?" * * * * * Jake insisted on taking you inside to meet his parents—"They need to know who you are if you're going to be hanging around here"—when he went in to tell them that he and his friends were going to go into town to meet up some other friends. As you walk back out, the sound of laughter from inside the storeroom tells you that Kian and Kyler have woken up. Jake glances at you as he pulls the door open. He looks ill, and it's like he's looking to you for sympathy. His two friends are on their feet, half dressed, and laughing. They gape at you, then look at each other and break out laughing again. Not that anyone who knew them could tell, but they have swapped faces and bodies. Earlier, you and Jake had coaxed them awake. They complained of feeling achy, but came alive again when you said it was time to seal up the masks. "And then we can—?" Kyler asked, finishing his question with a bright, knowing grin. So after sealing the masks, the two boys laid out on the sofa again, and you dropped the masks onto them. An instant later—it took your breath away to see it happen so quickly—it was Kian laying where Kyler and been, and Kyler laying on Kian's couch. That's when you and Jake snuck out. Now you're all back together again. Kian and Kyler try talking, but their words are lost in giggles and snorts as they greedily scope each other out. You start to feel some of Jake's illness. Then Kian—with a grin that doesn't quite fit on his face—asks Jake where Rachel's mask is. Jake wants to know why. Kian points at you. "'Cos maybe Will here wants to put it on for when we go into town?" That's all for now. |