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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Appointments Broken and Accepted"  It's like coming up from deep water, but you didn't know you were in deep water until you breached the surface. But there it is: Suddenly you're bolting upright, flailing your arms and puffing hard. Something heavy, with claws, is dragging at your brain. The sensation dissolves into something like an acrid smoke as you blink and blow. "Jesus, Will, you alright?" an anxious voice says. You rub your eyes and stare into the white face that is pressed close to yours. It takes you a moment to connect a name to it. "Mike? Uh -- ?" "Don't move. Jesus, you scared us. Lay back down." You briefly resist the hand that pushes at your shoulder, then fall back onto your elbows. Dust shoots up your nose, and you stifle a hard sneeze. Now that you're awake again -- but were you asleep? unconscious? -- you see that you're laid out on the grimy floor of a deserted portable. Portable G, that's right. You were creeping into it, then something slammed into you and ... And what? You have the vague impression of an immense weight falling onto you, but it's only a vague, hazy impression, not a memory, and you've no idea what it's an impression of. "Can you feel this? Does this feel bad?" Mike is asking, and you flinch as he presses at your legs in various spots. "That hurts?" "No, you're touching me is all," you retort. "Quit it. What are you doing?" "Checking you for -- We found you sprawled out here like you hit your head or something." We? Oh yeah, Mike isn't alone, and as you twist around you find Carlos -- also looking very anxious -- and Josiah huddling around you. Carlos speaks: "We checked your head to see if you got hit, but we couldn't see anything." "You should go see the nurse," Josiah says. "You were out for a couple of minutes. If you got a concussion -- " "Or you broke some bones," says Mike. "What happened?" "I don't know," you mumble. "I think someone mugged me." The three boys exchange worried looks. Then they look up as a fourth figure steps into the doorway. It's Philip Fairfax, a guy you know only by reputation. A science brainiac, but not an AP dick. His crimson hair is cut short and he wears black frame glasses like a hipster, but he has no affectations -- no tats or facial hair or anything like that. His pale face always seems drawn up in an expression of studious concentration, and his wardrobe -- insofar as you've noticed he has one -- seems to consist solely of white t-shirts and tan khaki slacks. He looks at you, and looks at his friends. "Did you wake him up? You're not supposed to move him." "No, he just suddenly popped up," says Carlos. "If he broke anything -- " He squints back at you. "The way he tried jumping at the ceiling, I think he's probably okay. So where'd those guys go?" "B wing," says Fairfax. "They weren't running or anything, and if Will's okay, I don't think the administration can do anything about them." "What are you talking about?" you ask, and despite the cautions about broken bones, you sit up. Once the blood has cleared your head, you feel completely normal, only a little stiff. Mostly you're aggravated by all the fuss that's being made. "Lester Pozniak and Joshua Call," says Mike. "We saw them coming back from the portables when we were heading this way. We dodged them, took the long way around, then found you." "I took off after them, to see where they went," Fairfax says. "In case they -- " He bites his lip. "I mean, it kind of looked like they ... knocked you out?" "I don't remember," you mumble. "I think someone grabbed me when I came in, and then -- " You rub a temple. "I think something hit me in the head? But I'm not sure?" "Could be the air in here," Carlos says. "It's pretty rank. Maybe it was carbon monoxide?" "Psht," says Fairfax. "But you should go to the nurse's office, Will. We'll do this video thing some other time. Someplace else." He and the others watch you carefully as you get to your feet. * * * * * You feel fine once you're under your own power again, but you do go the nurse's office, where Nurse Shaffer harrumphs over you and declares you perfectly fit. As for that fainting spell: "Don't go into those portables," she says. "They're filthy and they're off-limits." "You think that was it? Bad air?" "Sure," she says, but you're certain she says it so you'll stay out of the portables, not because that's the reason you fainted. "If you feel faint again, come back to see me." She grabs your wrist as you get to your feet, and feels at your pulse. "I wonder if you're not borderline anemic." Later, after school, Caleb has something to say about it: "Serves you right for leaving me to have lunch with Ioeger and Lamont," he says as you walk side-by-side out to your cars. "I almost let them talk me into using my garage for their evil experiments." "What experiments?" "Beats me. But they were asking if they could use my garage for some stuff, but then Jenny comes along and asks them if there was much fire damage at their place. Lamont's, I think. Turns out they almost burned their garage down, and now neither of them have a place to work because their parents put a stop to whatever they're doing." "They got something special planned for Gordon and them, that must be what's going on." You tell Caleb about seeing them scamper into the gym earlier. "Maybe we should change schools. It's gotta be safer at Eastman than here." To save time on getting to Besandwiched, Caleb drives you both out there. There's a parking space right in front, and since Caleb drove, you pay for the meter. You never much liked Besandwiched, and you don't know how they keep in business. The walls are painted black or dark purple or navy blue, with white and yellow symbols all over them. The absolute creepiest is a gigantic white moon-face that takes up most of one wall. It's like seeing a demonic version of Thomas the Tank Engine barreling out of a dark tunnel at you, and you can't bear to sit facing it, or with your back toward it, or with it looming in the corner of your eye. But you don't have much choice on where to sit, for Braydon has beaten you to the restaurant and is already looking up at you from a booth. Caleb slides into the seat opposite him. You hesitate, then slide in next to Caleb. But he shoves you back. "Other side," he snarls. "Why?" "Because I want someone who's not you sitting next to me, dumbass," he says. "And Braydon doesn't need one of those girls sitting next to him anyway. How's Gillian?" he pointedly asks the third of your company. "She's fine," Braydon says. He seems very serene. "She might join us later, if she can get away. I don't know if there's going to room for you guys here, what with all the --" Caleb sputters. "Then why did you ask us to come along?" Braydon smiles. "I didn't know it was going to turn into a party." Caleb mutters under his breath as he struggles to his feet. "Come on, Will. We'll sit over there." Truth to tell, you're not terribly disappointed to have to sit at another table. You don't have any business with Braydon or the girls, and in eighth period you noticed that Stephanie didn't even glance in your direction. But Caleb mutters to himself and plays with the sugar packets after you're both slumped in the booth directly across the aisle from Braydon. "Oh, come on," you mutter. " What where you gonna say to them when they showed up and we were sitting there?" "Great of you to show up?" Caleb retorts. "Here, come sit by me?" "And get yourself punched. Actually, that'd be awesome," you continue when he glowers at you. "Go on, go sit over there." "You heard what Braydon said, there's not enough room." "Coward. Here, in fact, I'll give you -- " You dig inside your pockets and pull out a fistful of garbage. "Two dollars and seventeen cents. And this old mint if you go sit over there with them when they show up." Caleb's lips whiten. Then, when you smile at him, he grabs it off the table -- all but the mint, which he flicks back at you -- and stomps over to sprawl across from Braydon, who stares at him with a slack jaw. Caleb says something you can't make out, and Braydon glances at you. "He'll come back over if there's room," Caleb says. You don't have long to wait. The front door opens and a clutch of high school girls -- the sight of them leaves you momentarily dizzy, so you don't count their heads -- come in. Mostly you're aware of them as a bunch of tanned limbs in shorts and t-shirts, and flashing teeth, and glinting hair. Your heart starts beating hard as they come over to stand at Braydon's table. There's an awkward moment, then they start sliding into the booth. Two slip in next to Braydon, and two more next to Caleb. That leaves one girl without a seat, and after kneeing one of her friends in the side of hip without success, she raps the tabletop with her knuckles. It's Stephanie. "Hey." It's your voice, though you're not conscious of deciding to call to her. It's more like someone put their hand up your esophagus and worked your throat and mouth for you, like a muppet. "You can sit with me." Stephanie stares back at you. Her lip is set in that characteristic quarter-snarl that shows the tips of her two front teeth, but her eyes are blank. Then she sighs and throws herself into the booth opposite you. She takes out her cell phone even as she casts a furious glance at the other booth, where her friends are already leaning in toward Braydon. * To continue: "An Unexpected Date" |
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