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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Hairpin Change in Plans"  It's the crick in the neck that wakes you up. That, or the chill. You shiver and grimace and pry your eyes open. It's beige world that greets you. A very beige world. You're in a closet, it looks like. A very well-lit closet—a blue-white bulb burns and sizzles in the ceiling above. But the walls close in and loom over you, so that there's hardly room for you and the low bench that's the only feature of the room. A yellow carpet scratches your bare thighs and calves as you lever yourself upright. The hell? You're naked! You have to stare and blink for a few moments before it all comes back to you. You're in a changing room at Nirdlinger's—that's righ!—where you were trying on clothes. But it's not like you were trying on underwear, so why are you naked? Did you faint? You do feel shaky, as though you've woken from a deep sleep. Maybe Yumi— Yumi! You grind the heels of your hands into your eyes. Sit on the bench and close your eyes, and you will get a big surprise! That's what she said just before she pushed something into your face. Until that moment you were fluffing out the lilac-colored blouse she'd found on the sale rack, but when you turned around— You have to put out a hand to keep from falling, and catch yourself against the wall. Because the other last thing you remember was being sent into the changing rooms by the fake Chelsea, where Yumi met you, and then she— You swallow, thickly. And then she gave you a new identity. * * * * * Your name is Will Prescott, and you are a senior at Westside High School. And, at the same time, your name is Dana Pak, and you are a senior at Eastman High. You are also Yumi Saito's cousin. You can feel the taut, thoughtful expression on your face as you pull on panties and with well-practiced fingers hook and twist the bra into place. But a thrill runs through them as you tuck your boobs into the cups, even though it's a familiar action. Yumi was in a chipper mood when she called you up this morning and invited you out to lunch (you remember). She had news (you had the impression) and then she suggested you go shopping together before eating. You didn't have any money for new clothes, you told her, but she laughed and said she had cash burning a hole in her pocket book, and she would help cover the cost of whatever you bought, because it would be a lot more fun if it was the two of you together. It wasn't exactly out of character for her to make the offer, for she and Dana are pretty close. No, it's Will Prescott who is puzzled. Didn't you ask to be a cheerleader at Westside? You wonder about Chelsea's improvisation as you finish dressing: warm, gray stockings under cut-off jeans short-shorts; a thin, long-sleeve shirt under a jeans jacket; black, high-top Converse sneakers. You tug and twist the clothes until they cling comfortably to your slim body, and pull back the long, straight hair that flops across your face. You look around for your cell phone. Oh, right. Chelsea must have moved Dana's clothes into this stall; it and your other things will be in Dana's stall. You nervously rub your nose as you open the door and step out; you can't shake the feeling that there's something wrong with your face. But the other rooms are empty when you check, except for a few discarded items—that lilac blouse being one of them. Not until you go out onto the main floor do you find ... Yumi? Chelsea? She's seated with her head bent over her cell phone, and she does a double-take of alarm when she looks to see you approaching. For a moment she stares in horror. Then a wide smile breaks across her face. "Hey there!" she exclaims. "You look good!" She titters. "How does it feel?" You feel like you're walking on needles. "I'm a little confused," you confess. "Give it a while and the memories will start to come." "No, that's not the problem. I only thought—" You catch and push a long bang from your face. "I thought I was supposed to be, you know—" You drop your voice to a whisper, and mouth the word at her: "A cheerleader." Yumi smiles in a motherly way. "We'll talk about it over lunch," she says as she gathers up her stuff. "You want sushi? Or would that be—?" She giggles. "Too on the nose for us?" * * * * * You wind up at Besandwiched. That restaurant is a little "on the nose" too, though in a different way. Who was it who decided that an occult-themed sandwich shop, one with freaky moon-faces and astrological figures painted on the walls, would be a good idea? It gives you the shivers as you settle into a booth across from Yumi. What if this place really does have mystical vibrations or something, and they cause the masks to fall off you and your tablemate? Your nerves aren't improved when the waitress stops at the table to get your drink order. You have to chat with her a little, for her name is Ursula Jensen, and she's a student at Eastman that Dana knows. "So, here we are, Dana," Yumi says as she studies a menu after Ursula has left. "What do you think?" "I told you, I thought I was supposed to be on the Westside cheerleader squad with you." "You said you wanted to be surprised. Aren't you surprised?" "Yes, but—" "You also told me you wanted to get a look at yourself from the outside," she retorts. "You told me you wanted to see if you really had it so bad." "Which is why I wanted to stay at Westside." "You'll get to see yourself, Will," Yumi assures you. "This was supposed to be a double date. Well, a trio. You and me and, uh, you along also. But you ran off after getting dressed." "I what?" "Your twin, I mean. He ran off. I told him I wanted him to go along with us to lunch, but he said that would be weird, and took off." That does sound strange. On the other hand, you're not too surprised when you think about it. You'd probably want to run off too. And if he is you— "We should get him to meet up with us. Tomorrow maybe," Yumi says. She closes the menu and looks across at you brightly. "I don't want you getting the idea that I'm trying to set you up, Dana," she says with a twinkle in her eye. "But I think you'll like Will when you meet him." You stare at her. "Set me up? What are you trying to—?" "I'm trying to get you to get a good, objective look Will Prescott," she says. "Dana doesn't go to Westside, so she's not going to have any prejudices against, um, him." You start a little. Is Chelsea saying that kids at Westside would have prejudices against you? "Besides," Yumi continues, "you don't want to be in the middle of all that cheerleader shit back at Westside." She sniffs. "Trust me, I think I know what you want, and this is the best way to get it. Ursula materializes at that moment with your drinks, and you order your food, and then Chelsea insists on being in character as Yumi and talks about family business. * * * * * "I'm home!" you call out as you come in from the garage via the laundry room. "How's Yumi?" Dana's mother calls from deeper inside the house. "She's fine! We're on the same diet, or something!" You enter the kitchen and out of habit—your own—glance inside the refrigerator before Dana's instincts force you to shut it. "Are you on a diet, Dana? The first I've heard. What is it?" "It's—" But you're interrupted by the sound of running feet. You look over with astonishment as Chelsea Cooper runs into the kitchen to join you. Oh, but it isn't Chelsea. This girl is shorter, and her face is the wrong shape, and her hair is a little darker and its curls are a little looser. But if there's a "Chelsea Cooper type," this girl belongs to it. Her eyes even have the same slightly manic shine behind them. "You had lunch with your cousin!" the girl exclaims. "That's what Sarah told me!" "That's right, uh—" You stumble a little before the girl's name comes to you. Carrie Carmichael. She's a freshman at Eastman, like your—Dana's—sister, Sarah. "And she's a cheerleader at Westside?" "Yeah." You have the urge to back slowly away from this blonde maniac. "Next time you meet up with her, do you think I could come along?" Sarah now appears behind her, a look of exasperated disgust on her face. "Carrie got excited when she heard who you were meeting up with today," she says in an apologetic tone. She plucks at Carrie's elbow. "Come on." "It's only that I'm going to be trying out for the cheerleading squad next year," Carrie says, "and I want to talk to her about it all." "Well, sure, I can get you together with Yumi," you tell her. "Next time I see her," you nervously add. Apparently satisfied, Carrie suffers to let Sarah pull her away. You go into the living room to tell Mrs. Pak about your shopping date with Yumi, and what your cousin had to say. Then you go upstairs. Again, you feel like you're walking on sharp needles as you edge into "your" bedroom. So you jump when your cell phone goes off. It's a text from David Johnson: Tina Branson party tnite. Going with Caleb. Interested? You jerk at the name "Caleb," until you realize he's talking about his friend Caleb Ryerson. But that reminds you that you've got a twin that you need to connect up with—if for no other reason to find out if Westside's Caleb has made any moves in the last few hours. Next: "Vanishing Tricks" |
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