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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "In the Mood for a Feud"  Martin Gardinhire. Lisa wants to talk about Martin Gardinhire. That fucking prick. You gape at her. "When do you think I'll ever let him back in my house, Lisa?" you demand. "You—or Geoff—you think I'd ever want to see him again, after the way he fucked me over?" Lisa winces. "Look, he explained—" "He explained shit!" Again, you have to glance around the library to make sure that you're not ranting too loud or attracting too much attention with your curses. "He explained shit!" you hiss at Lisa. "The fuck did he think that he explained?" "It wasn't his fault! Gary Chen made him say that you were the—" "Gary didn't make him do anything," you sneer. "He could'a told Gary to go fuck himself, that he wasn't going to—" You have to catch yourself before your anger can completely overwhelm you. "That he wasn't going to spread bullshit stories about me planting weed in Eva and Jessica's lockers!" you conclude with quiet fury. "It was bullshit! I don't even think that Gary made him! Why the fuck—" "Shhh!" Jamie warns you. "Why the fuck," you begin again in lower voice, "would Gary Chen give even half a fuck about getting Eva and Jessica in trouble? He—" "Geoff thinks he was trying to get Marc in trouble," Lisa interrupts. She looks wounded, but a trifle defiant too. "Marc got caught with weed too, you know, and Martin says—" "Why would he want to get Marc in trouble?" "Because they're on the soccer team together?" "Uhhnhh!" You roll your eyes. "What's that got to do with anything? Why would Gary want to get Marc in trouble? Just because they're on the soccer team together? That makes zero sense, Lisa!" "But—" "It was Chelsea," you insist, glancing around the table with a sneer. "She's the one who put Martin up to it, and she told him to blame it on Gary. It's the only thing that makes sense." You sit back and fold your arms. "She was trying to get rid of Eva and Jessica, and that's the way she did it. And so now she's fucked up the squad, and she wants my help fixing it! I can't believe this school sometimes!" No one says anything as you stew. When it becomes clear that they're not going to say anything more, either, you open up your books. But, without looking at Lisa, you say, "I don't care if Geoff or anyone hangs out with Martin or not. They're his friends and they can do what they want. But I'm not going to have anything to do with him ever again, so there's no point in asking me!" You attack your schoolwork as though it were a personal enemy of yours. * * * * * You are cooler by the end of the period than you were at the beginning, and actually regret having blown up so angrily at Lisa and the others. Not because you were out of line—Kelsey certainly wouldn't think she was, and you yourself don't give a fuck about the feelings of everyone else at the table—but because it wasn't wise. So just as the bell is ringing you tell Lisa that you're thinking about putting together a study group for Wednesday night, somewhere in town, like maybe the Beanfield. "And if Geoff wants to bring Martin along," you archly conclude as you pick up your book bag, "that's fine. Just as long as he's at a different table and no one expects me to talk to him." You swing around without waiting for a reply and stride from the library. Sixth period is AP French IV, and you can tell by the veiled looks you get from some of the people when you come in that those who didn't witness your explosion in the cafeteria have certainly heard about it. You ignore them as you take your seat next to Brooke Galloway. She waits until you've got your jacket off and your books out before leaning over to ask you, in a low voice, "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," you reply. "Chelsea just pissed me off, is all." "What did she do?" You bite your tongue instead of answering right away. "She just decided to try pushing my buttons," you say after you've figured out how to handle it. "And I let her. Stupid me. But I know how to get her back." Brooke looks alarmed. "I'm going to have to miss practice after class," you tell her. "If anyone asks where I am, or, you know, starts saying things about how I'm not there, tell them I'm in the gym watching the cheerleader tryouts." Brooke gasps. "Is that where you'll be?" "Mm-hmm. Chelsea asked me to." You smile smugly at Brooke. "She asked me to, because she thought it'd make me mad. And—pshttt!—I took the bait. But she did ask me to. So how can she blame me if I wind up taking her up on it?" You smirk again at Brooke, and turn around in your seat as the teacher goes to the front of the room. * * * * * Seventh period is Statistics, which you share with Seth. He is waiting in front of the classroom, and he jumps out to meet you even before you reach the doorway. He puts an arm around your waist and his face close to yours to ask, "Are you doing better?" "I'm fine now," you sigh at him with a tired smile. "I wore myself out being mad, so—" You put your own arm around him. "Can I lean on you in class?" He smiles, and supports you on his shoulder as, arms around each other, you enter the classroom. Again, a lot of eyes are turned in your direction, and you grin privately as you imagine what they're thinking: Are Seth and Kelsey going together? There's a seating chart in this room, so you can't sit together, but he does walk you over to your desk, and leans over to give you a long look in the face after you are seated. All through class you sneak looks over at him, and catch him every time sneaking a look at you. After class he walks you back to Mrs. Wendt's room, where you have Student Congress, and stands with you in the doorway until the bell rings. In your ear, he whispers, "I'm going to change out of this mask, just so you know. Will I see you at the tryouts?" "Yes," you whisper back. "I'll probably be a bitch to you, but I'll be there." He squeezes your elbow and saunters off. You watch him go—a sexy beast in his letterman jacket and tight jeans—until Mrs. Wendt calls you inside to your seat. This is the class where Kelsey hangs out with most of her cronies: Amanda and her boyfriend; Geoff Mansfield; Olivia Byrne and Deanna Showalter and Kim Walsh. The sight of the latter reminds you that she texted you yesterday, before you left to see Seth, and wanted to talk to you about something "important." After Mrs. Wendt has dismissed you to work in groups (you're with Amanda and Ricky and Geoff), you make a quick trip over to Kim's group to ask her what it was about. But she only tells you it's not important now. "What was that about?" Amanda asks when you're back in your own seat. "Nothing, apparently, according to Kim," you snort. "I was asking about at lunch." You give her a spiteful, slit-eyed side glance. "Chelsea pissed me off," you say. "Details at eleven," you add with a glare at Deanna, who is obviously eavesdropping from across the aisle. (She's the biggest gossip in the school.) "But I'll straighten it all out with her after classes. The cheerleader tryouts are then, and I'm one of the judges." "What?" Amanda, who never looks startled, looks startled. So does Deanna. Even Ricky and Geoff look interested. "It's Coach Tesla's idea," you explain. "It wouldn't be Chelsea's, right? But she made Chelsea ask me. I took it the wrong way, and that's why I blew up at her. But I'll be one of the judges at the tryouts." "Whoa," says Ricky as Amanda digests your spin. You ignore him to turn to Geoff. "We're going to have a study group on Wednesday," you tell him. "Milagro Beanfield Warehouse. You can tell Martin he can come too. But if he does, you have to decide whether you're going to sit at a table with me or with him. Because I'm not sitting at the same table as him." Cocksucker, you silently add. Swooping in to scoop up my girlfriend. Geoff flushes and says nothing. "Is Seth coming to our study group too?" Amanda asks. "Yes." "Interesting," she says. You hold her eye a moment before cranking a sweet, poisonous smile onto your face. "Yes, isn't it," you say. * * * * * You catch Coach Acuna in her office just before tennis practice is supposed to start, and explain that you need an absence so as to help judge the tryouts. She looks surprised, but gives it to you. And then you make a quick stop in Coach Tesla's office. Chelsea's glare is cold and murderous as she watches you advance across the gym court toward the bleachers where she is already sitting, flanked on either side by Kendra and Gloria. (Westside has two courts, separated by a mezzanine; the sound of basketballs is already drifting over from the other court.) When you're almost upon her, she sneers, "I thought you wanted me to go fuck myself, Kelsey." "I do, Chelsea. But I'm not going to let you fuck yourself and the squad." Her lips curl back into a feral sneer. "Besides," you add, "I figured out what's going on. You don't want me here, Coach Tesla does. But you weren't going to tell me that, were you?" "You're so smart," is all she can sputter back as you take a seat with your backpack, out of which you pull a notebook and pencil. A half-dozen girls are already waiting for the tryouts to start. Your phone buzzes a minute later. It's a text from Chelsea: You are smart, Will. Great excuse! You smile to yourself as you put your phone away. Next: Coming soon! Check back! |
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