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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Double Dealing and Double Dates"  Ten minutes pass, then twelve. But it's fifteen full minutes before you unglue your shoulder blades from the school lockers and push your way back into the restroom. Yumi Saito is standing at the sink, regarding her reflection with frank horror. She jumps at your entrance, and turns saucer-like eyes onto you. "Hey," you greet her, and do your best to keep the quaver out of your voice. "You almost ready to go?" You'd like to ignore her distress, but it's so obvious that you have to follow up with, "What's wrong?" She only stares at you. "Yumi?" you say. She claps her mouth shut, but her eyes still bulge. Oh God, you think. Am I going to have to ask her if she's sick, and take her home, or maybe even to the hospital? Fortunately, you get inspiration. "Hey, it's okay." You squeeze in close so you can put your arm around her shoulder. "It's only Will, and it's not even a date, not really. Me and James'll be there. It's just a fun little get-together." Her lips part, and a soft squeak escapes her throat. "Come on, don't be so nervous." You rub her back. "And we need to get going, James'll be meeting us out there in twenty, and Will's probably wondering if you fell in." Yumi swallows thickly and turns away. She fumbles at her purse as though it were a dead possum, and her feet turn loose of the floor only after you've put your arm in hers and tugged her toward the door. * * * * * You prattle all the way out the school, mostly to cover the awkward silence but also to fill Chelsea in on the role she's supposed to be playing. You inform her that Will is bound to be more scared of her than she is of him, that there's no reason to be scared at all because it's not really a date, and you confide that Will is probably looking for nothing more than a little confidence boost. "It's probably just about him not wanting to graduate this year without having had a girlfriend," you tell her, and the words surprise and discomfit you even as they come tumbling out. "I mean, I'm sure that's what it is, with the new clothes and stuff. Make a change, get himself an attitude adjustment. So, like, if you could just play along and make him feel better about himself, that's all he's really looking for, I'm sure." Then you hear yourself add, through gritted teeth, "He's probably not going to ask you out again or anything. 'Cos this isn't a date." Shit. You've practically gone and torpedoed your whole plan to set yourself up with this Yumi-Chelsea hybrid as a girlfriend, all to keep Chelsea from throwing up on your shoes And she doesn't throw up. But neither does she reply, and she slows up as you approach the white pickup truck parked at the end of the front walkway. She hangs back, and she gives you a pained and frightened look when you nudge her to get in. She clambers up and sits next to your beta with her arms and legs pulled in, like a doll positioned in a display case. Your beta gives her a long look up and down. "Hey Yumi," he says. "You look nice." She swallows again, and turns very pale. But with a rictus-like smile she manages to squeak out three syllables: "Thanks, uh, Will." He looks over the top of her head at you, and raises an eyebrow. You flash him a quick grimace back. * * * * * You and your beta chat around her on the way out, talking about your respective school days and possible plans for the weekend. At Panera, Yumi hangs back and studies with the menu board with something like panic on her face. But when she fumbles at her purse, you lean in to hiss that she should let Will pay for it—"because he'll want to." She looks relieved at that, and orders the lowest-calorie salad on offer. You make a face, and order the same while Will orders himself a ham-and-melted cheese panini that looks to be almost six inches thick when arrives. You've just settled into a booth with Will and Yumi on one side and you on the other when James saunters in. He's dressed a lot sloppier than your beta is, and you can barely hide your wince as he flops in next to you. In contrast to Will's button-down shirt and slacks, he's in a ratty, blue fleece pullover, and his jeans sport a ragged hole at one knee. Little spit curls of hair spike off the back of his head and over his ears. "Hey," he says as he drops a lanky arm around your shoulder. "So who's paying for mine?" "You're paying for your own," you snap at him. "Did Yumi pay for her own?" "No," you admit through clenched teeth. "Then Will can pay for mine too. Hey man." He jerks his chin at your beta. "Nice shirt. 'Zat one of Geoff Mansfield's hand-me-downs?" Your beta flushes. "Are those some of Carson's things you got on?" he retorts. "Yeah, probably." He sniffs his shoulder. "Maybe. I leave so much of my shit at his place and he leave so much at mine that we don't know what's mine and what's his any more." "Like girls trying on each other's things," Will snorts. "And who picked out your new shit?" James says. You pinch him on the thigh, but he ignores you. "I hear the cheerleaders have been playing dress up with you, like you're a purse puppy or something." Yumi, you notice, perks up at that. "If you guys wanna take it outside," you say, "me and Yumi'll let you." "I'm just jerking his chain, Prescott knows that." James slides a leg past yours; he's probably trying to kick your beta in the shin, but it's Yumi who winces and jumps. "I'm'a go order me something." With a grunt, James clambers to his feet. "I'm sorry about him," you start to apologize to the others. But James has pushed exactly the right button to get Yumi talking. "So you've been hanging out with Cindy and the Garners?" she says, turning to your beta with a sharp but quizzical smile. "What's that all about?" "Um—" Your beta gives you a terrified look. "Go on, Will." You grin at him. "Yumi's been fascinated by you. We were talking about you a couple of nights ago"—you dimple at the fake Yumi—"and she was quizzing me hard about you." The real Yumi would probably have glared at you. She might have even stormed out. But Chelsea isn't to be embarrassed by anything that would embarrass Yumi. She just turns a high-wattage smile onto Will. So Will stammers a quick and dirty summary of the shopping trips he's been on, and the clothes that they helped him pick out. Yumi listens closely, and confirms who the girls were. "And Seth was okay with Cindy shopping for you?" she asks with arched eyebrows. "Uh, I didn't ask." "Cindy can handle Seth," you put in. "They all sound so interested in you," Yumi tells Will. "Which one are you going to ask out?" Will looks at you. "I, uh, thought we were—" He breaks off as James falls into the booth with you again. "Well, they can't all go out with you," Yumi says with a titter, "even without taking Seth into account. You know," she continues, looking around the table with a bright, expectant look on her face. "I suddenly realize, I don't think I remember how we all got to be friends. I know I don't remember how Eva and Jessica and Cindy"—she says the last name with special emphasis—"all got to be friends with us. Or with you, Will." Her hand disappears under the table, and Will jumps in his seat. Neither he nor James seem keen to recollect on who met who and where and how, so it's up to you to offer up what you know, with the two boys putting in corrections. Most of you met in elementary school or middle school, which Yumi affects to remember with a laugh after you point it out. She forces the conversation into further reminiscences, and you help her out as best you can when you realize that Chelsea is trying to learn as much as possible about her new identity. James turns bored and impatient; with a kick under the table you prod your beta into contributing more than he'd obviously like to. But Yumi drinks it all in, and milks the rest of the table as hard as she can by dragging in the names of the people you sometimes hang out with: Carson and Paul, Caleb and Keith; Lin and the Garners and Cindy and Kim Walsh and Jamie Bornholm and Lisa Yarborough and Brooke Galloway and ... And to make things easier for her for when she goes home, you also make sure to mention Yumi's older brother and her younger sister. * * * * * Its awkward start notwithstanding, the date seems to have done the new Yumi a lot of good—she's a lot more relaxed at the end of it than when it started. And that's good, because your own nerves are shot from trying to surreptitiously educate her about her new self. After an hour, you finally have to excuse yourself to the restroom to gather up your strength. James is loitering just outside when you come back out, reading some flyers pinned to a corkboard. "Hey," he says with a sharp glint in his eye. "Are we all four supposed to go somewhere after this, or can we go off two-by-two instead?" Next: "Trading Confidences" |
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