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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Hitting the Marc"  "Are we going up to the mall?" Hannah asks after you've followed Jeremy a block up Twentieth. "You're not taking me to the food court, are you?" "Don't you like corn dogs?" you tease back. "With a dollop of mayo at the end you can lick ah ah off?" You gasp as Hannah pinches and twists a fold of your thigh. "Only for dessert," she retorts. "And only after you treat me good." "When don't I treat you good?" Hannah only replies with a side-glance and half a smile. What the fuck was Laurent thinking when he told me I had to be a gentleman with Hannah? you wonder to yourself. Hannah is easy, and Laurent knows it. Laurent actually warned Marc about her at the start of the school year, when Marc asked Hannah out. He told Marc about her reputation at Eastman High for sleeping with any guy with a strong pair of legs, and how she hardly ever went on a third or even a second date with any guy. You can count on having fun, Laurent told him. Once. but don't count on more than that. Apparently what Laurent didn't count on was Marc's ability to keep her satisfied. And it's not like he doesn't know that Marc and Hannah can hardly keep out of each other's pants. So how does he expect you to keep out of them, when Hannah can be counted on to make the first move? So preoccupied, you almost miss it when Jeremy turns into the parking lot of Sadler's Famous Steakhouse. You have to hook a hard left to follow him in. Hannah raises her eyebrows when you park. "Well, this is a surprise," she allows. "You want to go someplace else?" you offer. "No, it's fine. But you were making such a mystery about it— No, it's fine, Marc." Hannah pulls your face to hers, and kisses you wetly. "I'd love a good steak. Or surf and turf. Do they have molten chocolate cake for dessert?" She snaps at your lower lip. "Do you need to go back home and borrow your folks' credit card?" "No, I'll just have a little bit off your plate." "I'll stab you in the hand if you try." With a giggle, she jumps out of the SUV. You have your arms around each other's waists as you swagger into the restaurant. Eva and Jeremy are waiting to be seated when you enter. "Oh my God," you exclaim. "What are you doing here? Was that you in front of us? In that shitty little red car?" "Marc!" Eva exclaims. "I'm kidding! How do you fold yourself up in that thing?" you ask Jeremy, who stands more than six and a half feet tall. "I manage." "You must have your knees up around your ears. I hope you don't," you tell Eva. "Don't what?" "Wind up with your knees up around your owww!" Hannah pinches you in the side. Before things can get too awkward, the hostess leads Jeremy and Eva off to their table. "Who was that?" Hannah asks as they trudge off after her. "My sister." "I know that, you goose! I mean—" "Oh, you mean the goose she was with. Jeremy Richards. He's on the basketball team." "I knew that too. I just wanted to know his name. Are they serious?" "I hope not," you mutter. "You don't like him?" "He's okay. It's who he hangs out with I don't like." Before you even realize it, you're glancing around, then leaning over to whisper in Hannah's ear. "He's looking to score," you hiss. "Make himself look good to his asshole friends by making it with a cheerleader." "Oh my God." Hannah looks queasy. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you, sweetums?" "Like what?" The question genuinely takes you aback. Hannah makes a face. "Look, I know you're her brother and all. But if you get any ideas about barging in— Well, you're not going to make yourself popular." "Yeah, okay, just forget I said anything," you reply. It comes to you that you've crawled out really far onto a branch that Marc himself doesn't even know exists. "You're right, I'll just bite my tongue." Hannah grabs a hunk of your ass and squeezes. "It's my tongue I want you biting," she murmurs, but breaks off as the hostess approaches. * * * * * You do bite her tongue, and you bite her in lots of other places after you leave the restaurant. You're in a flop sweat as you leave—Where do I take her? What do I do with her?—which Hannah thinks is very cute, which makes it more awkward for you, which makes you cuter, etc. You nix a trip to the river, which will be covered up with lots of other high school students making out, and wind up driving way off east of town to Russian Lake, where you park near the recreation center. You're not the only couple out there, but it's less crowded and you're not likely to be recognized. You and Hannah crawl into the back of the minivan for a lot of petting, fingering, and— Oh God. You strip down to your socks, and Hannah gets on her knees and puts her face between your thighs and gives you a blow job. You almost scream your fool head off as you come. You tell yourself afterward that it was Hannah's idea, and that she gives Marc an awful lot of blow jobs, and that he has never turned her down and that it would be totally out of character if you didn't let her swallow your shaft past her tonsils. You make sure to be very sweet and cuddly afterward, so that she is cooing happily when it's time to take her home. That way, if Marc does get pissed at you, you can argue that you were just doing your best to make her happy with him. And, after all, it's not like he couldn't have known that something like that was bound to happen if he let you take Hannah on a date while covering for him. He knows what Hannah is like! But your head is awhirl with doubts and fears when you return home. You are very quiet going into the house, for it's nearly two in the morning. But there's a light in the living room. You expect to see your mother when you look in, but it's Eva. She's in a housecoat and is curled up on a sofa watching TV. "Hey." You jerk your chin at her. "What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong," she grumbles. "What do you care?" "Can't you sleep?" She hugs herself and sulks. "Where's Jessica? You two didn't have a fight, did you?" "No, we didn't have a fight. I just can't sleep is all. And I hate listening to her snore when I can't sleep." "You got something on your mind?" She closes her eyes. "No, Marc. Go to bed." You grimace at her, but it's a wasted expression, for she keeps her eyes tightly shut. You turn around and trudge upstairs. * * * * * The Garners have church the next morning, so you don't get a lot of sleep. The girls hog the bathroom, naturally, so you have to content yourself with a very fast shower and lots of hot, bitter coffee to wake yourself up. Marc's church clothes are pretty nice, though. Will Prescott wears itchy black pants and a white shirt, but Marc wears a dun-colored suit and green necktie. The suit is itchy too, and the tie constricts your windpipe. But there's no denying that he looks sharp in it, and it gives you a boost of confidence. (It also gives you a boost of confidence knowing that Anna Adams and Clarice Jones will be at the church, flirting hard with you even though they know that Marc has a girlfriend.) It's not until the break between Sunday School and the morning service that you answer your other phone—Will Prescott's—which has been chiming with angrier and angrier texts from your dad, demanding to know where you are. In the church restroom you text back from inside a stall, telling him that you overslept at Caleb's and will try to get home by lunchtime. You turn the phone off after that. When services are over you get a text from Laurent, telling you to come meet him at his house. It means breaking a lunch date with the rest of the Garners, but you obey. Laurent himself meets you out in the driveway of his dinky little house, and you are surprised—and a little ticked—to find that Marc himself isn't there, for you were expecting to undo the switch. "Yeah, I asked you over early," Laurent says. He seems distracted "How'd it go?" Nervously, you confess to getting a blow job from Hannah, but he only grunts. "Yeah, I figured something like that'd happen. Can't be helped. But listen, I got a favor to ask of you." "Uh huh?" Your heart sinks—a sensation that you're getting familiar with. Laurent pushes you back into the SUV, then circles around to climb into the passenger seat. He's brought a backpack with him, and he unzips it. "I got one of your masks here," he says. "And I got home early last night, spent it and this morning working on one of those metal bands." He takes out a mask, a metal strip, and the plastic tub containing the sealant that you made. "I think I did it right." Your hand tingles as you take them from him. In all the excitement, you lost track of the book and other things, and it dismays you a little to find that Laurent made off with everything while you were playing the part of Marc Garner. "There's someone I want you to use 'em on. As long as you're being Garner here." "Who?" you ask through frozen lips. "One of his sisters. Or Hannah. I'll leave it to you." The fuck? you want to shout. It must be some kind of test. But what kind? To prove that you're loyal to Laurent by doing this ... gross thing ... to Marc? Or to prove that you're loyal and trustworthy by telling him to go fuck himself? Next: "Hangover Sunday" |
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