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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Plot Twist for Caleb Johansson"  "So I'm asking about her," you tell Jenny, "because she came into our English class last period and tried to suck Caleb's face off." The lunch group freezes; furtive glances are exchanged. Carson rolls his tongues around in his cheek and stretches out sideways on the grass. "Are you telling us, Prescott," he says, "that Sydney McSexyButt is some kind of—" Jenny punches him in the shoulder, but he ignores it. "That she's some kind of xenomorph, and that she slithered into your classroom and sucked out Johansson's eyeballs and tongue and stripped the flesh off his face—" James guffaws while Paul looks sick. "—with an acid wash, then slithered back out again without Mrs. Gladstone stopping her? Because that would not only be sick-cool but would totally be what Johansson deserves." "Why would he deserve it?" you demand. "Pff. That fucker," Carson sneers. "Christ." James bites down hard on an apple. "Has he stolen any money from you?" "He didn't steal anything from you guys!" "You calling us liars?" "No! I don't know what's going on with him, but— Look, it's like the universe is out to get him, but now he's got this Sydney girl—" "What exactly did she do?" Jenny asks. "And don't be cute about it, Will." She leans forward with a hungry expression. "She came into our English class and went up to him and said that she has calculus with him—" "She has calculus with James," Carson corrects you. "Johansson just happens to be exchanging carbon dioxide for oxygen in the same room at the same time." He and James exchange a high-five. "Then how come she isn't asking James for help with her homework?" "Who says she needs help with her homework?" James asks. "I hear—" "Wait." Carson rolls forward to give you all of his attention. "Are you saying Sydney McSlurpableTits"—he leans away as Jenny swings at him again, but catches her rebound on the back of his head without missing a beat—"asked Johansson for help on her calculus homework?" "That's what I'd be saying if you didn't keep interrupting me with smart remarks." "They are smart, aren't they? But go on." "That's all. She comes in, says she's got calculus with him, and can they get together so he can help her with her math 'cos she's having a hard time with it. Oh, and she gave him a card. You know, like a business card." "If she gave him a card it was a joker," James says. "That story is bullshit." "I was there!" "Her story was bullshit. She's getting, like, a ninety-seven percent on her quizzes. I'm sitting next to her and I can see her scores when Mr. Kowalski hands our papers back." Carson scowls. "What are you looking at her test scores for instead of her tits?" "I'm looking at both, asswipe." "I'd be scoping out her legs if— You can cut that out now, Jenny," Carson sighs as she swings a third blow at him. "Maybe she wants to start getting ninety-eights on her quizzes?" you suggest. James snorts. "Johansson was averaging a B-plus, last I heard. She should be tutoring him." "So it's making less than no sense," Carson observes. "Jesus, you guys are dense," Jenny says. "Obviously she's interested in him and this is her excuse for getting him on a date." Carson cackles. "Johansson? And Sydney Mc—?" He catches himself. "Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, Ashton. I'll believe in vampires and little green men eating little green Cheezits before I believe—" "Don't be an asshole," Jenny snorts. "I wouldn't be so quick if I was you to make fun of Caleb. You and him aren't so different and you're not so much more attractive." "Meh," Carson says, but he deflates. "Maybe you're right. But it's a real plot twist." "Well, this is what I mean," you say, "about the universe going crazy around Caleb. Stealing stuff, making an ass of himself at parties, and now with this supersex—" You shoot Jenny a wary glance. "This super attractive girl coming on to him." "Mm, maybe you're right." Carson rolls onto his back. Then he scrambles to his feet and stares up at the sky, shading his eyes. "What do you see?" you ask. "Nothing, yet. I'm just scoping out the sky for dirigibles. You always see dirigibles when you've slipped into an alternate universe, right? That's what tells you you're in an alternate universe." You roll your eyes, but he muses on. "I wonder who won the battle of Gettysburg in this one." * * * * * Alternate universe or not—and maybe it is an alternate universe, seeing as how you've found an authentic magical grimoire—you let things proceed. Caleb is alert, chipper, and distracted first period on Tuesday; in fourth he almost falls out of his chair when Sydney looks into the room and waves at him. "Keep it together, man," you mutter at him as he vibrates in place. His eyes are feverish and he looks right through you when he turns to answer; his jaw works but he can't reply. You spend Tuesday night waiting vainly for a text or a phone call from him; Wednesday morning he flinches when you drop down next to him in Walberg's class. "Well?" you demand. "Well, what?" "How was your date? Dur!" "It wasn't a date. It was a study session." You stare at him, then sit back in your chair. "Oh, is that why you're in a mood? It was a study session, and that's all it turned out to be." He shrugs. "It was fun. It was fine. She was ... really friendly." He squirms in his seat. "She, uh—" He gulps. "Catherine— You know Catherine Muskov? She's having a party on Friday and Sydney wants to go." It takes a moment for the penny to drop. "And she wants you to go too?" "Yeah." He chews his lip. "Dude!" You raise your hand for a high five, but he ignores it. "Last night wasn't a date, but Friday night will be! So why aren't you, like, bouncing off the walls?" you add, for Caleb's brow has furrowed. He hunches his shoulders and looks around. "It's like I'm waiting for asteroid to land on my head. This just doesn't happen!" * * * * * Thursday passes and Friday brings Caleb to school already dressed up in his best shirt and slacks. "We're going over to Catherine's right after school," he tells you in first period. "Well, after she gets out of gymnastics practice. Did I tell you she has gymnastics practice?" "No, but it sounds like you're going to be telling me lots about her," you grin. After the horrible run you gave him last week, it feels good to see him happy with his life. But he winces. "Jesus. I wish I knew what I was doing." "Just go with it. You must be doing something right." "I just feel like I'm going to look down at any moment, and it's gonna be like I wandered over the edge of a cliff, and then I'll fall." You snort. "Yesterday you were gonna get hit by an asteroid. Today you're gonna fall off a cliff. What are you gonna be worried about tomorrow?" When he shrugs, you lean in with a leer. "Hopefully," you whisper, "you'll be worried about catching an STD." He pales and jerks away. * * * * * Again, you spend an evening expecting a text from Caleb, and again you don't hear from him until the next morning: u stil have key to old basement at school by ur house? he asks. It was nine-thirty when he sent it, and as it is a Saturday you were still asleep when it came in. But it acts on you like a quintuple espresso. With trembling thumbs you reply: not sur why? meet me at old school noon? bring key You quickly shower and dress and drive out to the school to give it a preliminary scoping out. You've been checking on the fire in the basement every day all week, and have been relighting it when it has gone out. This morning, as you peer in through the windows, you see that it has gone out again. But you don't go in to relight it. Instead, you return home and rummage through the garage until you find a key of the same make as the one for the lock you put on the door. That's the one you take when you drive back out to meet Caleb. You've been pacing nervously for fifteen minutes when an SUV pulls up next to your truck. Caleb is in the passenger seat; Sydney McGlynn is driving. "Hey," Caleb says in a very subdued voice when they've dismounted. "This is Sydney. Sydney, Will." You exchange greetings; she smiles brightly at you, which gives you a hard thrill. "You have the key to this place?" Caleb asks. "Got it here." You lead them over to the door. "But it's been a year since I've been out here. They might have—" You frown as you look at the lock, then slide the key in. "Yeah, this isn't my lock," you say as you jiggle the key in vain. But Caleb has to take a turn, and then Sydney does too. You catch her darting her eyes between you and Caleb. "What's up that you want into this place?" you ask. Caleb kneels to squint into a window. He gestures Sydney over. "The fire's out," he says. Your heart nearly explodes. "What fire?" you ask. "We were out here last night." He gives you a pinched look. "There was a fire burning down in the basement. "Shit," you stammer. "That ain't good. But at least it went out." "Yeah," Caleb mumbles. "Anyway, we wanted to check it out again today. I told Sydney you had a key." "Not anymore." And you have to look away. Sydney McGlynn is giving you a very hard and penetrating stare. Next: "A Girl Who Likes Mischief" |
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