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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/995644
by Seuzz
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2193834
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#995644 added March 5, 2024 at 9:38am
Restrictions: None
Hangover Sunday
Previously: "Dining In and Dining Out

"Why do you want me to score a copy of one of these girls?" you ask Laurent.

He grins and shrugs. "Well, you know, like you said when you showed me this stuff. It's perfect for pranks."

You feel your hair bristling, and ask yourself what Marc would think of this. He wouldn't like it, you decide.

But at the same time: He'd totally pull a prank like this on Laurent or Brownie or one of the other guys. So ...

"Yeah, okay," you tell Laurent. You poke him in the chest. "I'll do it. But this is a big deal, so you gotta do something for me."

He blinks. "What?"

"I don't know yet. But this is a major owe, and I'll think of something."

"Yeah, sure."

Laurent grins and starts to get out of the car, but you catch him by the arm. "So what happened last night?" you ask. "At the Warehouse?"

He freezes, then guffaws. "Marc got it on with Marcos!"

You feel your eyes pop.

"No! Whaddayou mean? Like, how far?" You feel yourself blushing in sympathy with Marc.

"Like, far enough that me and the guys figure he needs to feel a little hurt himself." He claps your arm and gets out. You watch him go inside before backing out into the street.

So that must be how come Laurent wants to prank Marc so hard, because he went really overboard with Marcos Rivera. You feel yourself blushing furiously as you wonder: What could Marc have done with Marcos and a mask that would provoke Laurent so bad?

Garner and Rivera have been best friends since middle school, and they play on the soccer team together. Marcos is a self-proclaimed "swordsman," a lean, lithe, panther-like pursuer of girls and girlfriends. The son of a bitch actually has three of them. Three girlfriends! But Marcos is so restless, and so in thrall to a cock that bobs and ducks like a dowsing rod, that there's no way he could resist a pretty girl who came on to him hard.

Is that what happened? you wonder. Did Marc come on to him as Maria or Kendra or Mackenzie? And how hard did he come on to him? Could he have—?

You have to gulp, and your scalp and face flush so hard they feel like they're on fire.

Could Marc have gone all the way with his best friend in order to pwn him?

* * * * *

If this really is about pranking Marc with a girl, it would be better to get a copy of Hannah. But Jessica is the first named target you run into when you return to the Garners' house. You're coming in from the garage, with the mask and metal band in a plastic bag you snagged from the recycling sack, when you glimpse her through a doorway. She's in the den, with school books spread out around her, but is tapping at her cell phone.

"What's this?" you tease. "You didn't you do your homework last night?"

"When were you planning on doing yours?" she retorts.

"I 'unno. Eventually." You've no intention of doing Marc's schoolwork for him. "I forgot to ask, whadja do last night?"

"Hung out with Yumi and Jenny."

"Yeah? Talk about guys and do each other toenails?"

"Shut up. Better yet, go shut up someplace else."

"You are tense," you tell her. "What about?" You get an idea and step around behind her. "You and Eva were snapping at each other all through church, I noticed." You set the bag on a nearby end table, so you can grip Jessica's shoulders and neck and start to knead them.

You expect her to slap you away, but her muscles really are tight and knotted, and she groans and arches her back as you work. "She's mad at me because I didn't follow my own advice," she tells you.

"What advice is that?"

"About not being a dick about Jeremy."

"You were a dick to her?" You grip and rub and work at her shoulders, and she rises to your touch like a cat being stroked.

"She wasn't happy when she got home last night. Her date didn't go so good."

"How so?"

Jessica grunts. "I'm not telling you. You'll go and say the wrong thing to her."

"So tell me how it went wrong, and what the right thing to say to her is."

"Anything you say will be the wrong thing. You're the last person she wants to hear from."

"Why, what did I do?"

"Nothing. It's who you are."

You mull this. "You mean it's because I'm her brother."

"Don't take this the wrong way, little bro, but it's just easiest for us to assume you're wrong about everything."

"Well, thanks. So, you're saying that if I told Eva that Jeremy's a great guy and she should see as much of him as possible—"

"Don't for one freaking minute think you can use reverse psychology. We both of us know your idea of the perfect boyfriend for us."

"And who's that?"

"Crispin Fontana."

It takes you a moment to attach the name to a fey, floppy-haired waif with doe-like eyes and a taste for colorful scarfs. "Wait. Isn't he gay?"

"Exactly. Hey, don't stop," she grouses as you pull your hands away. "That actually felt good."

"You need a chiropractor. And a psychiatrist," you add as you dip into the plastic bag for the metal strip. "But just relax. There's a move I want to try on you."

"Oh my God," Jessica gasps. "What are you—?"

"Hold still." You grip the base of her neck with one hand and reach around with the strip with the other. "I just want to—" You put the strip to her forehead, and she slumps where she sits. You let her fall half out of the chair, then drag her over to throw her onto the nearby love seat. Then you shut and lock the study door to wait for the thing to copy her.

* * * * *

"You have any problems?" Laurent asks you later when you call him.

"Not until I got home."

"What happened then?"

"I'm grounded for the next two weeks."

After making the mask and memory strip of Jessica, you changed into some of Marc's workout clothes and went for a jog, with a backpack stuffed with clothes jostling on your shoulders. At Potsdam Park you hid inside some shrubbery, took off Marc's mask, and changed back into your own clothes. Then, with money lifted from his wallet, you paid for a cab to take you home. Your dad absolutely lit into you for coming home half a day after you promised you would. You ought to be upset, but enough of Marc's personality lingers in you that you don't particularly care.

At least not yet.

"Oh," Laurent says. "Is that how come you didn't stop at my place to drop off the stuff?"

"Yeah, I got caught here. Can't go out except for school, and can't have friends over. For two weeks," you repeat.

"So you'll bring the stuff in to school tomorrow? Who'd you get?"

"Jessica. By the way, how many blank masks do you have left?"

"I 'unno. How many'd you give us?"

You roll your eyes. "Well, do you have any left? 'Cos I need one. I also need you to make another one of those metal strip thingies, since you've got all my shit over there."

"How come? Oh!" You hear the grin in his voice. "You're gonna use it on—"

"I'm gonna use it on myself, man. I told you, what I did for you today is a major owe, and 'cos of it— Well, 'cos of it and 'cos of me covering for Marc, I am in big trouble at home. Two weeks, cocksucker. I'm grounded for two weeks!"

Laurent guffaws. It doesn't bother you, though. Jesus, you wonder. Am I finally getting used to hanging out with him? Or is it because I've still got a lot of Marc left in me? You do have the oddest feeling, the faint but lingering impression that you are not Will Prescott, but are Marc Garner wearing a Will Prescott mask.

"So what do you want?" Laurent asks.

"I want someone to cover for me. For two weeks."

"No! Fuck you!"

"Okay, not for the full two weeks. But for—" You hesitate as you try framing an offer in your head. "Five days. To be named later."

"Two days!"

"Four. Two Fridays and two Saturdays."

"Two days," Laurent insists. "One Friday, one Saturday, different weekends."

"You ungrateful piece of shit. If I only get two days out of jail, I'm not giving you Jessica's mask."

Laurent is quiet for a long moment. "I'll give you four days," he says. "Three on weekends, one a weekday. You get to keep Jessica's mask. But you have to do the prank we were going to pull on Marc."

"What's that?"

"You come on to Dalton Douglas, as Jessica. At the Warehouse. In public. Get really messy with him."

You mull this. "How come? Is this about Marc getting it on with Marcos?"

"Partly. It's also to fuck with Dalton. He'll think he's making it with Jessica, then when he tries coming onto the real girl she'll kick him in the balls. Marc hates Dalton, so that'll be the payoff that makes it okay."

You mull it some more. "I'll think about it. Tell you tomorrow."

"It'll be awesome," Laurent assures you "You'll see."

Next: "Everyone Wants You to Be Jessica

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/995644