But he looked tragically normal in a pair of shorts and a striped T-shirt. Even Amanda had gotten into it, showing up in a pressed white shirt and plaid skirt, which he assumed was connected to Harry Potter. At least a third of the remaining girls and more guys than he’d expected came as vampires. But it was Disney and Marvel Comics that won by a long shot. Iron Man characters. Alice in Wonderland. Toy Story. Every witch, dwarf, princess, and mermaid in numbers that staggered the imagination. Added into the mix were girls who dressed as princes and boys dressed as witches, so that the bathroom ended up a confusing mix, which was exactly where Finn found himself as he heard the familiar voice.
“What are you looking at, Whitless?”
Luowski’s voice, but the body of the Russian madman in Iron Man 2, complete with the scars and bad teeth and something coming off the ends of his hands, which were supposed to be bolts of electricity but looked more like Christmas-tree tinsel. Finn felt sorry for the guy: the costume got close, but in the end didn’t work.
Finn realized that he was looking at himself in the mirror—like the last time he’d run into Luowski in there. The situation was doubly strange because he didn’t remember coming into the bathroom. Nor did he remember turning on the faucet, which was currently running.
“Hey, Greg.”
In addition to the Mickey Rourke look, Luowski was wearing the green contacts. Something Finn took note of with added apprehension.
Finn chanced a glance at his watch: eight minutes had passed since the end-of-school buzzer. For a moment he couldn’t remember having been in school at all that day. He could force himself to imagine, if not actually remember, having entered the boys’ room, but he had absolutely no recollection of the past eight minutes.
The Evil Queen? Had someone dressed up like her been behind him in the mirror just a few seconds before Luowski? Was that a memory, or his imagination?
He cleared his throat. “The more important question, Greg, is why are you hanging around the boys’ room staring at other guys staring at themselves in the mirror?”
“I…ah…Who said I was?”
“Picture’s worth a thousand words.” Finn pulled his phone out of his pocket.
Luowski said, “Your girlfriend’s waiting outside.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Not what I hear.”
“Well, you hear wrong.”
Finn turned around and faced the taller Luowski, standing about chin height to him. But Luowski might as well have been six-feet-five and 280 pounds for the way Finn felt. He didn’t want anyone—including Greg Luowski—messing with Amanda.
“Take a look yourself, Romeo.” Luowski motioned to the door.
Finn had something to say to Luowski, but knew it would earn him a punch in the face, so he bit back his words.
He was back in the hall heading for the front doors, not feeling quite right. It bothered him that he’d lost eight minutes of his life. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before. He and the other Keepers had often discussed “side effects” of being a DHI: the extreme fatigue mixed with the occasional insomnia. He wondered if the side effects included memory lapse. Eight minutes. Gone.
He swung open the school doors.
Amanda stood at the bottom of the steps, turning her head toward him just as Finn arrived through the doors. His girlfriend…Was he supposed to get used to that? He felt happy to see her—almost too happy.
Light-headed. Weightless. He seemed to float down the steps toward her.
She stood among a group of girls. A few covered their mouths, hiding their smiles as they saw Finn. He had no idea how stupid he looked. But his vision blurred to where there was only Amanda. The others girls looked almost Photoshopped in, blurry and unidentifiable.
He didn’t know why, but he looked behind him—Luowski-the-Russian-madman stood at the top of the stairs, grinning. Finn was halfway down when Amanda approached him.
“Walk me home?” Amanda said. That was a first. He’d walked his bike with her plenty of times, but he couldn’t remember her asking for him to.
“I like that shirt,” he said, having retrieved his bike.
“It’s Jess’s.”
“You look good in it.” What a stupid thing to say. It fit her pretty tightly and she was going to think him a creep.
“Thanks.”
They walked a block. Two. Five.
“You’re awfully quiet,” she said.
“Luowski was bugging me in the bathroom,” he said, wondering where that kind of honesty came from. “He’s one of them.”
“Are you sure?”
Finn caught her up on the recent street confrontation and Luowski’s comment about not believing in magic.