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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/994046-Spoofing-the-Interrogation
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by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2180093
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#994046 added September 24, 2020 at 1:08pm
Restrictions: None
Spoofing the Interrogation
Previously: "A Day in the LifeOpen in new Window.

by Nostrum

You've been relying a lot on Alex Day's instincts, and wearing a copy of her mind to school was probably the most stupidly accidental act of brilliance you've ever done.

And now she's telling you to run. But you feel confident you can handle this guy.

"Uh, sure!" you tell him. "I'm always up for, like, eating."

"Great!" Joe flashes a very wide grin and pats you on the shoulder. "I'm starving!"

--

Joe drives a truck a lot like to yours, and following him from the school is kind of like following your twin. His choice of eatery unnerves you when you pull up to it. The Crystal Cave is one of many spooky coffee shops located near Keyserling College, and is notable for the astrological symbols that decorate the booths and tables. At least, that's what Alex (who knows a lot more about that kind of thing than you do) has noticed about the place. Inside, Joe orders a cup of coffee and a chocolate-chip muffin for himself, and the same for you when you plead poverty. He then leads you back into the dining room. You'd prefer to sit at the "Moon" table in the corner, but Joe steers you to "Mercury."

"So, the community center down in Acheson," he starts as you settle in. "You know anything about that place? I hear it used to be an elementary school."

"Yeah. It got repurposed ... I dunno. Back before I was born."

"You heard about the bum that was living in the basement?"

You tense. "Um, I heard something kind of like that."

"You run into him when you went down in there?"

The question is very matter-of-fact, but of course it startles you. Guy's a cop! Toldja he'd catch you! Alex screams at you.

"I ... never went in the basement," you stammer.

"I heard you did," Joe says. "I heard you were hanging out there, practically moved in. I heard you were the homeless guy."

"Not me," you insist. "Who was telling you I was?"

"Summ'a the neighborhood kids. They said they saw Robert Prescott's brother hanging out there. That's you, right?"

Little fuckers! "Oh. Yeah," you reply. "That. But it wasn't me. I was at home with my family."

"What, you never leave the house?"

"Huh?"

"Do. You. Never. Leave. Your house? Because how can you be sure you were with your family at the same time the kids were spotting you at the old school?"

You roll your eyes. "Because they came looking for me. Yeah!" You warm to the story as you imagine yourself in Caleb's place that afternoon. "They came all busting in," you tell him, "and they were all, like, 'Will, what are you doing here, we just saw you down at the old school!' And I was all, Nah, I been here all the time." You lift your chin. "Didn't they tell you that?"

Joe laughs and leans back in his chair. "Yeah, but they didn't believe you. They're totally convinced it was you out there, and that you just ran home really quick."

"Well, I didn't."

"I get you. But don't you think it's weird? Your brother's friends spotting a guy who looks just like you in the old school basement?"

"No," you tell him. Your heart is starting to beat really fast, and it's getting harder to keep your cool. "They're a bunch of dorky thirteen-year-olds. Like my brother."

His grin sharpens. "Little brothers are a pain in the ass, aren't they?" You shrug. "But it's funny, 'cos everyone saw this girl Bonny out there too."

"Bonny?" Your heart skips. "Who's—?"

"And you know, she also swears up and down that she was never in the basement. So that's two of you seen there when both of you swears you weren't." He holds your eye, and there's a bright gleam in his.

The fuck? you wonder. Your face feels hot, then cold. "Bonny? Bonny who? I don't know—"

"Bonny Belinda Buttonwood. Real tongue-twister of a name." His mouth curls up into an enormous smile. "You try saying it. Say 'Bonny—"

Your interrupted by your phone: a text from your dad reminding you to tell Caleb not to be late.

"Listen, I gotta go," you tell him. "My dad." You trip over your feet as you get up, but Joe remains seated, and twines his hands behind his head. "I don't know what's going on at the school, and I don't care. I don't know why you care. But there's nothing going on, I'm sure!"

Joe says nothing as you run out of the place. Neither does "Alex." She just claps slowly and sarcastically in the back of your head.

--

You're just returning to the theater office when you hear the back door – which is the one you use to come and go – shut with a thud. You put out your flashlight and run back up the hallway to the concession stands. A pale circle of light shines on the wall opposite of you, and it wobbles as the intruder's flashlight follows you up the hallway.

But even before he reaches you, Caleb yells out, "Will? You here?"

"Yeah, I'm here," you say as you step out. Caleb jumps when he sees you.

Then he cracks up. "What are you doing dressed up like a chick?" he laughs.

That's one reason you hid. You knew he was going to give you the business about putting on Sarah's mask and some girly clothes.

You're probably not much to look at. After all, it's dark in theater, and you're dressed in the cheapest threads you could find at Thrifty Nifties, up by the mall. It was Alex's brain that suggested it to you, probably because Alex likes to do things with her hands when she's unnerved. So from The Crystal Cave you drove to the thrift shop, bought some old yoga pants and a midriff-baring t-shirt, then (leaving your truck at the mall) took the bus downtown to the theater. With thirty minutes or so to kill before Caleb would get off work, you have spent it with Alex's mind and Sarah's body and these used clothes, giving yourself as careful a look over as you could manage with selfies taken in the acrid light of LED lanterns.

I look good, you think, and you feel good. Sarah's diminutive body and Alex's out-size mind make for a pretty explosive combination, and the feeling of being someone else – someone confident, and quick-witted, and wild – is exhilarating.

And already you are thinking ahead: I want to go out like this, but I can't get caught like I did last time, not after that crazy conversation at the Crystal Cave. But that's easy to take care of. A haircut would be enough. Maybe a pixie or a mohawk? Dyeing your hair platinum blonde, or better yet, mint green? Do a few piercings, maybe a few tats? And definitely get better clothes – the thrift shop doesn't have your (Alex's) style. You can hardly contain yourself as you are overwhelmed by the Alex-like urge to treat Sarah's body as a canvas.

But now here's Caleb, to drag you back into the present. "Hey, chick-Will," he jeers, and snaps his fingers. "I asked you—"

"Oh." You blink hard, shaking your head. "Sorry, got distracted."

"What are you playing dress up for?"

You hesitate, for it suddenly feels like it will all sound very silly if you try to explain it aloud. "Well," you say, "it is an old theater. Isn't this exactly the kind of place to play dress up?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

"Look, you've got somebody to dress up as. Me. But I want to have some fun too!"

"You had your fun back at the old school. That's how come we're here now."

Something inside you snaps.

"Then maybe we just should get rid of that book and all our shit!" you explode. "If the only thing we're going to do is dress you up as me and send you to school while I hide out someplace—! Jesus, man, you want to hog all the fucking fun for yourself while I—"

"Okay, okay!" Caleb hollers.

"Besides," you continue, "I got it figured out how to keep from being recognized. I'll give myself a makeover. I won't look like 'Sarah White' anymore. I sure as fuck don't feel like her."

Caleb smirks. "I hope not."

"Yeah, I feel like Alex Day. That's right." You grin as Caleb's expression craters. "I'm wearing that metal doohickey so I can think like her. It's how I got through today at school."

"Uh huh," Caleb says. "Does Alex Day know how you're going to pay for a makeover? Or do you have a bankroll you've been holding out on me?"

Now it's your expression that craters. He's right: you spent the last little drabs of cash you had on the clothes you're wearing and the bus fare from the mall. Caleb laughs.

"Alright," he says, "I owe you, or Alex Day, or somebody for getting us all the shit we need for the book, so I'll front you forty bucks from my first paycheck." From his pocket he takes two twenties. "But you need to stop being such a dumbass."

You're too surprised by the appearance of this money to bridle at the insult. "How'd you get an advance on your paycheck?" you demand.

"From your dad. He came and found me today." Caleb cocks his head. "I thought you set it up. He told me you asked him for an advance for me—"

You drown the rest of his explanation in a loud whoop, and dance around the darkened lobby. Caleb finally grabs you and stops you from bouncing around like an automatic pogo stick.

"You're welcome," he says. "You can start paying me back by helping me start on the next spell."

But what you really want to do is get that makeover. It's Alex (again) who helps you see a way of slithering your way out.

I left my truck up at the mall so no one would see me parked here, you could tell him. You get started, and I'll move your car up next to mine, then take the bus back here.

And you'll start to work on that makeover while you're out.

Next: "The New Girl with the Familiar FaceOpen in new Window.

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