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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Businessman"  Maria adds nothing more, but she doesn't have to. The implication is clear. With Gordon free, there's nothing to stop "Yumi" from dropping you and going after him. * * * * * After stopping by the Sunshine Diner long enough to sell Sean his weed, you drive out to Kirkham's. He gives you a dark look as you barge in. But you had a dark look of your own. "Someone shit in your cereal?" he asks. You don't answer, but stride into the dinky living room to have a look around. It's empty, but you push your way out onto the back patio anyway, where the back yard is plunged in the shadows of early evening. Kirkham follows a minute later, and doesn't speak until he's shut the sliding glass door behind him. "So?" he says. "What the fuck?" You kick a dirty plastic chair away from the dirty plastic outdoor table and slump into it. "I just got back from a date with Yumi." "Fuck," he hisses. "Yeah. I should be all bragging about it to you. We went out to the Donna. Two hours. It was awesome." You hunch your shoulders and slide further down into the chair. Kirkham says nothing. "She's gonna break up with me," you say. "Pfffff." His sigh is barely audible. "I can just tell," you continue. "She had an itch and I scratched it and that's all it was to her." Kirkham says, "Good." You start. "Fuck you. Whadda'yu mean, 'good'?" "Well, it's not like you wanted a steady thing, right?" he says. "Did you? Fuck, you're not that big of a—" "Why the fuck not, man? Cocksucker." Your lips peel back. "If I wanna fucking girlfriend—" "No, you wanted a fucking lay, that's what you wanted," he interrupts you. "If you was smart. She was a fucking lay, and you don't any more than that." "I don't?" "Don't be a fucking moron." He steps up to loom over you. "You and Yumi Fukushima, or whatever her last name is? You wanna fucking baby registry with her? Fucking Jesus!" He grabs your shoulders, and starts massaging them. "You don't need no fucking baby mama," he says, "not one like her. You want your freedom, man. Why'dju wanna stick yourself with her? Whaddaya got then? A job, that's what. A job carrying her shopping bags and curling up with chick flicks and taking her fluffy little rat dog for walks and picking its shit up in a plastic bag. That's what I see when I see you with her. Jesus Christ, man." He bends to put his cheek to yours. "I'll give you all the blow jobs you want, if it saves you from that!" He smooches you by the ear. You snort. "You better be serious. It's not like I gotta lotta other places I can get blow jobs from." "Pshhh. You just don't look for them." "Yeah, where are they?" "Anywhere, man. You just get up close and let 'em know you're serious." He gives your shoulders one last squeeze. "Anyway, so what if Yumi dumps ya? You dunked your wick. Count yourself lucky if that's all she wanted." "What else would she want?" Kirkham stares down at you from behind crossed arms. His expression is inscrutable in the dark, but his voice drips with contempt. "A guy she can pussywhip," he tells you. "A guy she can put on a leash. A guy she can show off to her girlfriends and say, 'Look at my new poodle, I made him myself'. Shee-it!" You're unconvinced, but you see his point, maybe even better than he does. Yumi Saito is probably too smart to try that kind of crap on Gary Chen, but Chelsea Cooper might. You felt a bossy edge when she asked you to walk her to her classes. There was also the snobbery she revealed at Sean's diner. But all you say is, "Maybe I am worried about nothing." Kirkham snorts. "Yeah, well, that's what I'm telling you. But do whatever the fuck you want, man. You always do," he adds as he yanks open the door and goes back inside. * * * * * Yumi texts you the next morning to say that she'll be driving herself to school. At the gym between first and second she only gives you a quick, almost distracted squeeze and smile before following her "friends" into the main building. In class she hardly talks to you, and she doesn't ask you to share lunch. So you're out by the Music wing, squatting and eating and smoking cigarettes, when you look up to see the Garner girls approaching. "God damn," Justin Roth murmurs at your elbow. "I know what I'm gonna be jacking off to tonight. Twins." "Yeah," you snigger. But your heart is beating hard, because you know who it really is and what they probably want. "Hi Gary," Eva Garner says. "Is this where you hang out for lunch?" She gives Justin and Cody Wooten—the third in your lunch group—a distracted smile. "Sure, regular-like. Come hang out with us anytime you want." "I thought you had fifth lunch. I thought you were eating with Yumi these days." You tense. "She's got fifth lunch, I'd have to skip." "Are you going to do that from now on? What's that going to do to your grades?" All the small hairs on your back start to rise. "It's just a bullshit Marketing class, I can pass it without even taking the final." "You don't want to do that," Jessica says, speaking for the first time. "You're not serious about her." She holds your eye, and you hold hers. You put the cigarette to your lips and draw down deep lungful, which you let drift out your nose in a slow exhale. "Who fucking says I'm not?" "Well, you shouldn't be. It's not gonna last." Now you feel the blood rushing into your forehead. "Who fucking says it won't?" "We do," Jessica says. "That's not a threat—" "It'd be fucking hilarious if it was." "It's just that we're her friends and we know her, and we know it's not going to last." This is some fucking middle-school levels of bullshit, you think. Or is it Chen thinking it and you're just reverberating to the echo? It's a thought—no, it's more like a spasm—that comes from the very back of your skull. Nyah, nyah, you're not our friend, we won't let you be her friend, is what you hear. "Well, if you know her," you retort, "you know that she digs me, and you know how come." "Oh, we know exactly how come she digs you," Eva says. There's a snigger in her voice. "And it's how come we know you're not going to be seeing her anymore. Anyway," she adds, "we thought we'd better come tell you, so it won't be a total shock when it happens. Come on." She plucks at her sister's elbow, and the two of them walk away. They lean in toward each other, murmuring, as they go. There's silence from Justin and Cody. The cigarette singes your knuckles, and you drop it and crush it out in the grass with your knee. "Tsh," Justin says. "Fucking cunts." "Yeah," you grunt. "But I'd still jack off to 'em." "Psh, well, sure. Prob'ly more fun to now." He stretches and shakes out his shaggy mane of hair. "God damn it, though." You stuff the last of your lunch into your bag, but you leave it with Justin as you stalk off to take a walk around the portables and the Ag Annex. Cody has moved on when you return, but Justin is sitting back against the wall of the Music building, his face turned up at the sun, with his hand on your bag. "Was watching your shit for you," he says. "Thanks." "You know what I'd do," he says, "if that happened to me?" "If what happened to you?" "If whatever happened to me," he retorts. "If, let's say, I found myself without a girlfriend after these two other girls came up and talked to me like those two talked to you, let's say. So, what I'd do, first thing I'd do, is I'd go find 'em at a party or something. Then I'd lean in close at 'em, and ask if they wanted to go off someplace for a really good fuck." "Pah. Why'd you wanna do that?" He takes a hit off his cigarette. "'Cos it wouldn't hurt when they said no," he replies. "But—fuck me—wouldn't it be awesome if they said yes?" * * * * * The predicted moment, when it comes, comes in the parking lot after school. Yumi lets you walk her out to her car, but she pulls away when you try putting your arm around her, and brushes you back with a glib, "We had fun yesterday, didn't we?" "Yeah. Glad you had fun, I did too. 'Course, you know," you continue with a shrug, "we don't have to have fun like that every day." She smiles at that. "If you just wanna hang out now, go somewhere, talk." You shrug again. "Hold hands." "Yes, we should hang out sometime," she says as she opens her car door. You grab it after she gets in so that she can't pull it shut. "What do you mean, 'sometime'?" you ask. "Well," she says, "sometime. Like, I dunno." She dimples at you. "Next weekend, maybe?" "You mean go out to the Donna again?" Your chest is tightening, so you don't mind being blunt with her. "Gary!" she simpers. "No, I just meant 'hang out'. At someone's house. I'm sure we'll run into each other." You feel your hair start to bristle. "We've been 'running into each other' every day at school." She gives you a look. "We have classes together." "So you mean we're not going to be 'running into each other' outside of class anymore? Like we did yesterday or this weekend or—" "Gary!" Amused pity shows in her eye. "I told you I had fun! It was great! But, you know—" And then she says them. Words that Gary Chen has never heard before, but Will Prescott has. "It's not like we ever said we were going out together." Next: "Reality Bites" |
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