"How did you do it?" Randy whispered at Trevor. "Come on, you freak. Answer me."
Trevor turned his head and looked at him. Randy wondered what was more freakish about him - his black eyeliner or his black lipstick? He decided on the lipstick. Was Trevor trying to be a girl? What kind of guy wears lipstick and skirts? Or even eyeliner, for that matter?
The Goth boy glared at him, but then his gaze fell down towards Randy's leather skirt, which looked almost identical to the one he was wearing himself. When did Randy put that on? When he came into the class, Trevor was sure he saw Randy wearing jeans.
"Tell me how you did it," Randy whispered a little louder.
"Where the fuck did you get that skirt?" Trevor asked.
"From you. I know you did this."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"You and your black magic friends put that note on my desk," Randy said, pointing towards the floor at a yellow sticky note that had been torn in two.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Trevor said, and that was the truth. Sure, he knew his friends Athena and Nadine did some dabbling with the occult every now and then, but black magic? No way. And he and his friends certainly didn't do anything to this jock.
Randy reached down and grabbed the pieces of the note. "Are you saying you didn't write this?" he asked. He looked down at it, after he put the pieces side-by-side, thus making it complete again. Then he began to read, unable to stop himself.
"I wish I would take on the most prominent attribute of the person sitting to the right of me."
Suddenly, Randy felt dizzy again, as something else began to happen to him.
