# chapters

path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232112112
author_id: seuzz
title: Party of Three
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Thinking about Braydon reminds you that you haven't told him yet of where you are, so you drop the basket of vegetables long enough to send him a fast text: <i>saw that girl this morning and now i'm here.</i> You don't dare be more explicit because Charles likes to grab Andrea's phone and snoop through the texts and call lists. To make sure he doesn't find even that one -- or any reply Braydon sends -- you shove the phone deep inside your shorts pocket.<br/>
<br/>
Laughter is floating from the living room as you come in -- two voices, at least. But you ignore them and start washing off the vegetables. After you've shut off the faucet, Charles calls to you. "Hey Drea, what's for supper? Drea?" he repeats when you don't answer. "She's mad at me," he says in a quieter voice. "I don't know why, I'm the one who should be pissed at her."<br/>
<br/>
Andrea's stamina and patience, particularly with Charles, is such that this doesn't even bother you.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Andrea!" another voice calls. You think you can place it, but you're not sure, so you go to the doorway to the kitchen to look out.<br/>
<br/>
Adrian Semple is sitting on the futon with Charles. They're squeezed up close together, and Adrian has his arm around Charles's shoulders as they grin and laugh over a cell phone. Charles looks over to say something to Adrian, but his words are lost as Adrian kisses him lightly.<br/>
<br/>
It doesn't surprise you to see him making out with Charles. Adrian refuses to identify as any kind of "-sexual," saying he's completely free of any prejudices on that score.<br/>
<br/>
Your movement in the doorway catches their eyes, and they look up with mischievous smiles. "Hi Adrian," you say. "Hi Charles."<br/>
<br/>
"Hello, <i>darling,</i>" Charles drawls back. "What did you say is for supper?"<br/>
<br/>
"A vegetable casserole, but there's only enough for one."<br/>
<br/>
"I can look after things here if you have to run out to get something for yourself," Charles says.<br/>
<br/>
"God," Adrian gasps. To you: "Why don't you punch him when he says things like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's what he wants, so I don't give it to him."<br/>
<br/>
"It works the other way too, Drea," Charles sniffs. "But one of these days I'm going to slip up, get drunk, and accidentally sleep with you."<br/>
<br/>
Adrian looses another gasping laugh and looks up at you with wondering eyes. You flick him a small smile, and return to the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
You've got the vegetables chopped -- the squash and beans, plus some bell peppers, onions, carrots also from the garden but pulled from the refrigerator -- and are frowning over what to add for protein, when Adrian slides through the kitchen on his way to the back door -- probably for a cigarette. Confirmation comes a few minutes later as you're dumping some pork sausage into a skillet, when he returns with the smell of burnt tobacco bleeding off him. He hops up onto the counter and swings his legs lazily. "If you need anything from the store, I can go pick it up for you," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"I've got enough," you tell him. (Your voice is so soft.) "I've decided there's enough here for two people. If you can get rid of Charles."<br/>
<br/>
"Just you and me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Me and someone." You look over your shoulder at him. "You offered to go get something, so I choose you."<br/>
<br/>
Adrian scratches the side of his mouth. He's a ratty, smelly eighteen-year-old. He's dressed in jeans cut off just below the knee; filthy Converse high tops; a sweatshirt that reeks of tobacco and marijuana. His hair, if teased, would balloon into a massive afro, but it falls lankly to the tops of his shoulders in greasy faux-dreadlocks.<br/>
<br/>
He says, "Charles says he's mean to you because he's afraid you'll fall in love with him if he's nice to you."<br/>
<br/>
"He's in the drama department. He's happy living in Bizarro World."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think I could talk to you the way he does."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm glad you don't." You whack at the sausage with a wooden spatula to break it up. "I like the way you're talking to me now." There's an awkward pause. "Why don't you and Charles get married?"<br/>
<br/>
Adrian makes that same asthmatic laugh. "We're not together. We're just, you know -- " Your back is to him, but you can visualize the shrug. "He needs the release sometimes."<br/>
<br/>
"He's not the only guy in school who's gay, I'm sure."<br/>
<br/>
Charles's voice rings from the living room. "My standards are too high, Drea, so I settle for Adrian. Oh, and by the way, I can hear you guys."<br/>
<br/>
"Then stop eavesdropping," Adrian shouts back.<br/>
<br/>
You turn around as Charles comes into the kitchen and looks inside the refrigerator. "Anyway, I'm not looking for a boyfriend, I'm just looking for someone who doesn't mind making out in public." <br/>
<br/>
Charles's words remind you of something Braydon said, about larping as a gay student except he didn't know any. "You know other guys at school who are gay? Who?"<br/>
<br/>
Charles gives you a look. "Drea, please. We've talked about this before."<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't interested then. You were, but I wasn't, so I've forgotten what you said."<br/>
<br/>
Adrian laughs, and he doesn't stifle it even after Charles has flushed.<br/>
<br/>
"That's right," he sneers. "Except we've got our own secret little club now, with secret handshakes and passwords and codes to confuse our enemies. We set it all up last weekend, so I can't tell you about them now."<br/>
<br/>
"Good. I was only interested for about five seconds anyway." You turn back to the pork, which is starting to sizzle softly.<br/>
<br/>
Charles closed the refrigerator and stalks out. Adrian hisses with silent laughter. "You really don't know who he's talking about?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't actually care. Do you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but I shouldn't gossip. It pisses Charles off, the way none of those guys will come out, but he's really a stickler about respecting their privacy. Well, except for Jason Lynch."<br/>
<br/>
You freeze in the act of raising the spatula to swat at the pork some more. "Jason Lynch. <i>The</i> Jason Lynch?"<br/>
<br/>
Charles shouts from the living room. "Yes, <i>the</i> Jason Lynch! I thought I told you all about him!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's just your theory!" Adrian shouts back. To you: "He says Jason's so deep in denial he doesn't even realize it."<br/>
<br/>
"Which is pretty damn deep," Charles shouts back, "considering that he lets Gordon bang him on days that Chelsea isn't putting out. And you know she only puts out on alternate Leap Days."<br/>
<br/>
"Cheerleader pon farr," Adrian snickers.<br/>
<br/>
You ignore him. "If you're going to join the conversation," you yell back at Charles, "come back in here and talk in a reasonable tone of voice."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not joining in the conversation! I'm just spicing it with piquant additions!"<br/>
<br/>
You concentrate again on the sizzling pan. "So do you help out these other guys, the way you help out Charles?" you ask Adrian.<br/>
<br/>
He gets a shifty look, and shrugs. "Maybe. Some guys, we just have wind up having fun together. Tim Gerard. So, you know," he adds hastily, "if you hear anything about him and me -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Tim doesn't want people thinking he's gay?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's kind of funny that way."<br/>
<br/>
Charles, shouting: "He also doesn't want people thinking he's Mormon, so don't go spreading that around either!"<br/>
<br/>
"Tim's Mormon?"<br/>
<br/>
Adrian shrugs again.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh. So what kind of person do you see yourself finally settling down with?" you ask Adrian.<br/>
<br/>
He bites his lip, and puts his eyes on you, and his gaze is very intense.<br/>
<br/>
You've seen that kind of gaze before, on the faces of other guys. You return Adrian's stare with a level one of your own.<br/>
<br/>
A very long moment hangs.<br/>
<br/>
Then Adrian, to your supreme disappointment, while still holding your eye, slides off the counter and advances a step.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be stupid," you tell him quietly, and turn back to the stove.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There winds up being a lot more food than you'd anticipated, after adding the vegetables to the sausage and letting it all slowly cook through, so you're able to parcel out three bowls. (But you give Charles the smallest helping, which he notices and loudly comments upon.) "I've got some more people coming over," he says mid-way through the meal, when his phone buzzes and he checks it. "Just an intimate thing, no more than thirty people."<br/>
<br/>
"There better not be -- "<br/>
<br/>
"I'm joking, Drea. So far only Kevin and Christian say they're in."<br/>
<br/>
"Christian?" <i>Can't be Knouse.</i> "Christian who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Padilla. Oh, but now he's saying he's bringing Dean with him."<br/>
<br/>
"Any girls?" Adrian asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'd just about forgiven you before you said that," Charles snarks. "I've told Jelena and Sienna they have to stay away. It's for your sake," he says, looking at you over the top of his phone. "I know you don't like drama on Sunday nights."<br/>
<br/>
"Then what are you doing here? But keep it stag," you continue as he flips you off. "Your kind of stag. And tell everyone it'll be an early evening."<br/>
<br/>
So only half a dozen more guys show up, of the type who prefer to hang out on the back stoop smoking weed while moody dance music plays softly on the old-fashioned boom box. You sit Indian style on the futon all night, watching everyone from under half-closed lids. You don't even have to keep them entertained. They keep themselves entertained.<br/>
<br/>
Such a different scene from the bored, nervy trio you typically make up with Caleb and Keith.<br/>
<br/>
But the evening sets off other weird vibrations in you. Andrea may have a thing for fuzzy little cutie-pies like Chelsea and Bethany. But she's no virgin, and though she rarely goes looking for action, it's not because she doesn't like cock.<br/>
<br/>
And the evening's talk about experimentation has got you thinking about doing some experimenting of your own -- just to see what it's like, of course.</span></div></div>


path: 11332111211111222111212211111211111122112122311111213111331111223212
author_id: rugal
title: Solving a Problem Like Jordana
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>While obviously you're upset about the damage Jordana has done to your reputation, such as it was before, you don't think that putting her under your control will be able to fix that. That's a stupid thought however, you realize, because if you're serious about trying to have a relationship with Bethany then you'll have to win over her friends. Dorothy obviously thinks somewhat highly of you if the Warehouse was any indication. Ceres? Well, you've never talked to her although you know who she is. She's an adorable, tiny dryad and you don't think someone like that would hold ill will towards you.<br/>
<br/>
Does she have other friends? Certainly she does though you don't really know who. But that does convince you that maybe you <i>should</i> try to get a mask of Jordana, if not to larp as her than to at least keep her under your control. If she's trying to start trouble after only one date, you'd almost definitely be in for a rough time if she decides she wants to drive you off.<br/>
<br/>
The problem is that you know nothing about Jordana or where she would be today. But you know someone who does and you haven't talked to her since last night anyway. So, having to steel your nerves, you grab your phone and shoot a text to Bethany.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
<i>wassup?</i><br/>
<br/>
You shoot the text off and receive a reply nearly instantly.<br/>
<br/>
<i>u finally :P<br/>
had fun last night<br/>
<br/>
yeah, i had too much<br/>
<br/>
i saw<br/>
<br/>
u &amp; everyone else<br/>
<br/>
yeah... sry will<br/>
<br/>
not ur fault</i><br/>
<br/>
You send the reassuring text but now recognize the opening that's presented itself to you. So you decide to press on to see if you can get what you'll need out of her and send out another text.<br/>
<br/>
<i>btw whats her deal?<br/>
i didnt do anything to her!<br/>
<br/>
i kno but she is how she is<br/>
<br/>
well do u have her # or sumthin?<br/>
i wanna talk to her<br/>
<br/>
u dont need 2 do that will, i will<br/>
dont worry<br/>
<br/>
u shouldnt have to, i need to do it myself<br/>
<br/>
will plz i'll take care of it<br/>
she's not a bad person<br/>
<br/>
u wouldnt be friends w/ her if she was<br/>
but i want to set things straight myself</i><br/>
<br/>
There's a few minutes where you don't hear back from her and you're worried that you've pissed her off. Thankfully, however, you eventually receive another message back from her.<br/>
<br/>
<i>sorry i had to think<br/>
if u wanna do it then fine<br/>
but pls dont be dumb</i><br/>
<br/>
With that she texts you Jordana's number and you thank her. You then engage in some small talk about school, the events of last night and her plans for tomorrow (which includes an embarassing moment where you stupidly forget she works tomorrow). You make tentative plans with her to try and see her tomorrow after work depending on how things shake out. You then save Jordana's number into your contacts and debate on just when you want to text her.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
You decide to head out to the old school for the time being and work on creating the mask and band you'll need to pull this off. It's not as long as it could be--advances in technology makes the job much quicker--but it'll still be tedious so you try to procrastinate and decide to just rip the bandage off and text Jordana.<br/>
<br/>
<i>hey, this is will</i><br/>
<br/>
You nervously await a reply that comes a moment or two later.<br/>
<br/>
<i>who?<br/>
<br/>
w/ bethany last night<br/>
<br/>
o you<br/>
the fuck do you want?<br/>
<br/>
to talk to u<br/>
<br/>
yeah?<br/>
bout wut?<br/>
<br/>
u know wut<br/>
<br/>
o that. yeah i know<br/>
i heard<br/>
<br/>
u did more than hear<br/>
<br/>
no about this. bethany told me</i><br/>
<br/>
Bethany told her about...? Oh! The lightbulb goes off. That long pause in your conversation with her earlier. So she wasn't thinking? She was telling Jordana you wanted to talk to her? Part of you wants to feel betrayed at that but you're actually relieved. It means, you hope, that she trusts you enough to bring it up and bite the bullet for you because thinking about it, if you'd gone to Jordana unsolicited then you probably would've had no luck. Bethany going to her means she'd be more willing to do it.<br/>
<br/>
As your thought is finishing, your phone goes off as some more texts come in.<br/>
<br/>
<i>yeah i can talk<br/>
not now tho<br/>
on break @ work<br/>
<br/>
ok when do u get off<br/>
<br/>
like 10<br/>
<br/>
ok can u meet me @ the old school?<br/>
in acheson<br/>
<br/>
yeah whatever</i><br/>
<br/>
You breathe a sigh of at least minor relief. This is all going to be dealt with in a few hours. Realizing that you'll be in Jordana's mask tonight, you don't feel it necessary to activate the golem. Instead, you make a quick trip back home to tell your parents that you'll be out with Caleb. Of course you could call but your dad's not the type of person who likes to hear things in the rather impersonal manner of the phone. You're a bit surprised when you receive only a token amount of push back from him, simply telling you to make sure you're home by curfew so you don't miss church in the morning.<br/>
<br/>
Now in the clear, you head back to the school to update your mask with your memories and then get to work creating what you'll need and then applying the golem gloop to your own mask. By the time it's finished you feel somewhat exhausted but it's thankfully only around twenty until ten so almost shaking in anticipation, you realize you won't have much longer to wait.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
It's around ten after ten when you receive a rather annoyed text from Jordana asking where you are. You come up out of the door and see her next to a truck that's actually not too different from your own, nicer actually since it looks like she actually keeps it clean. You call out and motion her towards the basement.<br/>
<br/>
You don't really have anywhere to hide the mask until you're ready to pounce and any of the other stuff is all hidden enough to be out of sight, out of mind, especially in the dimly lit basement.<br/>
<br/>
You'd been fine most of the night but as she comes down the stairs, you find yourself looking at Jordana and feeling upset again. "So what the fuck was that about," you burst out before she's made it fully down.<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck do you think," she snaps back... well not as much of a snap. There's a lazy, disinterested tone to her voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't do shit to you and you have to go and embarrass me because... for what?!"<br/>
<br/>
"Tone it down," she says as she leans back against a wall, "that's your problem. You try way too hard."<br/>
<br/>
"What's that supposed to mean," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
She lets out a bemused grunt. "You were trying so hard to be Mr. Cool Guy or Party Man but look at you," she gestures. "I can tell just by the way you dress and the way you're all fidgety. You're an immature little dork."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you too," you shoot back. You're not sure where this level of bravery is coming from, maybe being embarrassed has caused you to snap. "I can't be a cool burn out like you I guess so does that make me not good enough for Bethany?"<br/>
<br/>
You notice a gleam come to her eye and the faintest of smirks shows up on her lips. "Acting like that, yeah. You know what you reminded me of? Somebody who saw, I don't know, Roth or Patterson or one of those pricks and was trying their best to be cool like them."<br/>
<br/>
"There's something wrong with that," you challenge. "Guy's like that have confidence and that's what you need."<br/>
<br/>
"Confidence," Jordana laughs. "You overrate that shit way too much. Bethany doesn't worry about that shit if she's hanging around people like Dorothy or me. She's about as unpretentious as it gets and that's what's cool about her."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're saying just be myself?"<br/>
<br/>
"Can't hurt," she shrugs. "I hate people like that, who act all fake about shit. If you can't be you, then who the fuck are you really? Just some fucking blank slate that nobody really knows."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, well thanks for the pep talk coach," you tell her, "but are you going to apologize for embarrassing me like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why? It's a learning experience. Helped you find your balls," she replies.<br/>
<br/>
"So this was all some fucked up test of character or something," you groan. "So you don't have any problem with me now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't fuck up and I won't. I'm just here to keep you honest."<br/>
<br/>
Well that went in a completely unexpected direction and you're thrown for a loop. You'd called her out here to put a stop to any potential shit in the future and it seems, well, you have if inadvertently. That makes you wonder if you should just change things up completely at this point; if Jordana's not going to cause you any problems then maybe it'd be good to go for another friend of Bethany's just to strengthen your position with her.<br/>
<br/>
But you wonder how long that will last since that all seemed accompanied by a pretty big "if". If things seem fine now, they might not tomorrow or Monday. Maybe you should be as safe as possible and do what you'd planned anyway.</span></div></div>


path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232122
author_id: rugal
title: New Solutions for New Situations
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"To keep me honest," you ask, still unsure of how to process it.<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly," she replies in a tone that you think conveys annoyance but you're not sure. She gives off such an air of cool indifference that you're having trouble reading her. "You can fake having all the confidence you want but nobody wants that. Anyone can see through it."<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't..." you say as you start trying to defend yourself but realize that's dumb. What are you going to tell her? That you weren't faking it because you magically copied Justin Roth's brain and shoved it into your head? "I just want to impress her," you meekly reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Who the fuck is gonna be impressed by someone pretending they're some big shot like Patterson or Roth," she asks.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Bethany seemed impressed by Roth before,</i> is what you want to say but you keep quiet on that. Instead you can only muster up a very tepid variation. "Lots of girls seem impressed," you reply weakly.<br/>
<br/>
"Lots of girls are easy as fuck to manipulate," she shoots back. "If you want a quick lay, then act like a tool. Just stay the fuck away from Bethany."<br/>
<br/>
"Why are <i>you</i> getting so defensive," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Because Bethany's my friend," she replies, "and I don't want to see her get the run around from some geek looking to get his dick wet before graduation like some shitty high school movie. If you're serious then fine. Show me, show <i>her</i>, that you are. Just fucking be yourself."<br/>
<br/>
"Being myself got my last girlfriend stolen by Geoff Mansfield," you glumly reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah? Well Bethany isn't like those two-faced AP fucks like Mansfield and those chicks he runs with," she states. "You'll know where you stand with her."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that your way of being encouraging?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just setting you straight. It's better to be up front about who you are and what you want," she says and you notice her expression darken a bit. "When you dick around with people and yourself like that all you're gonna get out of it is misery."<br/>
<br/>
You want to say something as this hasn't gone as you'd planned but you can't really think of anything. Instead Jordana just lets out a large sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I don't say this a lot but sorry," she says. "I had a real bad experience with that Roth prick last year and the way you were acting gave me flashbacks I guess. I'm usually not that catty. Consider that your wake up call, though," she quickly adds.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, well, sorry I didn't mean to or anything," you say, "uh, you want to talk or anything?"<br/>
<br/>
Jordana just blows it off however. "It is what it is, man, don't worry," she states. "Look, lemme make it up to you though. Me and Nancy are gonna be hanging out at Hennepin's tomorrow. Bethany won't be there but I figure if you're gonna hang around her you're gonna have to get used to hanging around us so, I don't know, just stop by after five if you want."<br/>
<br/>
You don't know who Nancy is and you're not sure how comfortable you'd feel hanging around Jordana or any of his friends. Well, you know Hennepin and know he's not a bad guy but you have a feeling you'd be out of place. So you give a noncommittal response, echoing her in your statement that if you don't have anything that comes up you might stop by.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
You spend the first half of Sunday messing around on your phone. You text Bethany a bit but feel embarrassed when forgetting that she has work on Sunday and that, combined with swimming with Andrea, means you're not really going to be able to see her until Monday.<br/>
<br/>
After noon, you head back to your own place and, throwing some small rocks at your window to get his attention knowing that he'll be there after church, tell your doppelganger to go back with you to the school. Once there and once you've determined that things are "safe" at home--nowhere to go, no chores your father's foisted upon you--you take the mask off, dress in what he was wearing and head home.<br/>
<br/>
You decide that with Jordana seemingly dealt with in her own way you'll focus on some of Bethany's other friends and try to get one of them instead. You'd spent most of the rest of the night going around Bethany's social media profiles, Facebook especially, to see who she hangs out with and who would be the best to use this mask on. It's a good hour or so, Bethany might not have the popularity of a Chelsea or Kelsey but she's far from <i>un</i>popular. It's also a matter of just who she hangs out with.<br/>
<br/>
Some of her friends and acquaintances don't surprise you. There is, of course, some of her other teammates: Andrea, Rachel Burton, Olivia Byrne and the like. There's Jordana and Dorothy and Ceres as well as that girl, Nancy Trent, that Jordana mentioned last night. Kelsey's in there too and that's a shock. Jelena Petrovic, Fatima Zahedi... lots of names that you have at least a passing familiarity with though not much beyond a face and the fact they exist.<br/>
<br/>
Her circle of male friends is virtually non-existent however. There's some of the types that don't surprise you too much: Hennepin for instance. There's also some of her teammates from the swim team as well such as Nathan Cruz and Matthew Adams though the talk doesn't seem to extend much beyond basic encouragement regarding team related matters such as training and the like.<br/>
<br/>
You're intrigued when you see Matthew's girlfriend in <i>his</i> circle, however: Phoebe Beauchamp, a dark-haired, dark-eyed member of the soccer team posing with him in a swimsuit at a pool, his or hers you don't know. You actually can't tell which of them has the better set of abs though you can tell you'd like to run a hand over hers.<br/>
<br/>
It's a good fifteen minutes before you're conscious of the fact that sent you into a spiral of checking out the profiles and pictures of Phoebe and the other team members as well.<br/>
<br/>
So it's back on track and another half hour before you finally manage to narrow things down to what you presume to be a reasonable number of possibilities with reasonable logic behind all of them:<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy Harmon is the first. What she tried to pull at the Warehouse on Friday is still stuck in your mind. Is she interested in you? Was she just high or drunk and uninhibited? Is she loose? No matter which it is, that could present a large problem. If she was willing to get that frisky with you having only just met you, imagine what she could do if you're hanging around more. While you're not sure how much sway she'd hold over Bethany, taking away any of the potential issues she may cause by being overly friendly seems like a good idea.<br/>
<br/>
Then there's Nancy Trent, a metal head and stoner from what her Facebook feed shows you though more restrained than Dorothy. Again, you're not sure what influence she would hold over Bethany but in this instance that's now what drew you to her. Instead, it's the fact that from how often they're hanging out in pictures, she seems to be close friends with Jordana. While your experience with Jordana went more positively than you could've expected, you know that if you step out of line she'll be on you so having her friend "on your side" would be a boon.<br/>
<br/>
The last possibility is someone you hadn't thought of until you saw her and did some digging: Kristy Suffolk. The second-in-charge of the girls' basketball team seems to be Bethany's closest friend that's not in either her swimming circle or group of friends that seem more comfortable at the portables than inside the school proper. She's much more conventional and decently popular. You share English with her and last year had to partner with her as part of a group doing a reading of Macbeth in Hagerman's class and your interactions with her have always been fairly positive. Someone like her vouching for you would help not just your standing with Bethany but the school in general.<br/>
<br/>
Convenience plays a part too. With Dorothy you feel like you could just send her a message and friend request and you'd be in good. You're doubtful you could do that with Nancy or Kristy. You share a class and lunch with the latter and Jordana offered you to spend some time with herself and the former tomorrow. If you can catch Nancy alone for just a few minutes then you're good.</span></div></div>


path: 1133211121111122211121221111121111112211212231111121311133111122321221
author_id: rugal
title: For a Good Time Call...
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The doubts continue to creep in your mind. With Nancy you haven't missed your shot despite how long you've spent scouring Facebook. It's still only close to six and maybe being fashionably late will make a good impression... yeah, fat chance on that. All the same though you have no clue how you would get Nancy alone. From what you can see of her Facebook feed there's not really much overlapping interests the two of you have outside of a few popular television shows. Not really something where you'd need to pull Nancy away for a private chat to get a mask onto her.<br/>
<br/>
So that's a bust, unfortunately, or at least you've managed to convince yourself that it is.<br/>
<br/>
Kristy doesn't offer much in the way of attainability either. You share English with her, the same class you share with Bethany, and while Kristy from your brief interactions is a nice enough girl she's not someone you've ever had reason to talk to at length. Or rather, you're someone that she hasn't ever had reason to talk to at length. Well you do have an excuse now but... well it's intimidating. What do you do, just approach her in the middle of class? Then what? Try and whisk her away into a bathroom? Try and arrange a meet up after school? From the cold shoulders you've received from the Garners when you've broached the subject about Lisa you doubt that asking a girl about another girl will get you anywhere anyway.<br/>
<br/>
That leaves one option.<br/>
<br/>
So you go back to Dorothy's page and send her a friend request. You're surprised that it doesn't take long, no more than a few minutes, for her to approve it and her showing up on your friend list. Then again you're not much for social media unlike most others your age so it'd probably make sense that someone would have all of their alerts and everything set up for quick responses.<br/>
<br/>
Still you're thankful as you click her name and send a message to her.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Hey, it's Will.<br/>
Remember me from Friday?</i><br/>
<br/>
The reply isn't long in coming.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yea totally!!!</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>What's up? Everything good?</i><br/>
<br/>
You grimace a bit. You really have no clue how to broach the subject and get her alone.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Jus chillin its all good<br/>
U have a good time Fri? ;P</i><br/>
<br/>
Another grimace but you press on. <i>It's all new to me,</i> you type. <i>That's what I wanted to talk to you about though.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>To me?! Whoa ok! Thats new! Nobody comes to me for advice lol<br/>
But if u wanna talk thats cool.<br/>
When???</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>ASAP,</i> you reply simply.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Aight cool! I live rite down the street from the park.<br/>
Hochstetter Park. U kno where that is? Just meet me there whenever. I will be there.<br/>
Dont make me wait 2 long tho. ;)</i><br/>
<br/>
Well that was as easy as you kind of thought it would be. So you steel yourself. Dorothy Harmon will be under control soon. She probably doesn't wield large influence over Bethany or Jordana but getting her out of your hair, making her a spy and having her in your corner is useful all the same. Before you go, however, you send a text this time to Brayden: <i>Getting a mask,</i> you tell him. <i>Text you when its done.</i><br/>
<br/>
After that you head back out to the school where you've left both your mask and the blank as well as the golem gloop, gather them up and head off to meet Dorothy.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
Hochstetter Park is one of three in the city and definitely the smallest. It sits on Hoover Boulevard though thankfully down in the more normal, far less shady part of town that road eventually leads to. It's also far and away the least trafficked of the three parks. The Suffolk Wilderness is a large state park and thus a prime area for anyone who enjoys the great outdoors. South Creek is larger, has playgrounds for families and basketball courts, tennis courts and even a baseball field as well as being in a nicer part of town.<br/>
<br/>
Being on the nicer end of Hoover doesn't stop it from attracting the wrong sort of people though and its to this environment that you reluctantly pull your truck into. You see people, guys you don't recognize but who look skeevy all the same, eye you as you park.<br/>
<br/>
As you warily step out of your truck you hear a voice call out to you not far from where you parked. Casting a glance you see Dorothy, her brown hair done up in a ponytail that bobs as she moves, head in your direction. Frayed and ratty looking short jean shorts tightly hug thighs and wide hips. A tight black tanktop hugs and accentuates her breasts.<br/>
<br/>
"Heeeey, so, like, you wanted to talk right," she says and there's a lazy and laid back tone to her voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, about Friday night and, you know, things that happened," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah, I saw," she says making a face. "Real bummer huh? But, ya know, if you need a shoulder to cry on or whatever..." There's something approaching a playfulness in her voice when she says that. "So like, I dunno, if you wanna head back to my place or something we could do that. Get a li'l bit of privacy right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Y-your place," you sputter.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh, totally," she replies. "Too many sketchy people around her. My folks are out too for the night so we've got privacy."<br/>
<br/>
You'd been reluctant to do anything here as soon as you pulled in so while nerves flare up you decide that you can't really look a gift horse in the mouth. If she's offering some privacy that's going to make doing what you need to do easier. "Sure, if it's fine," you say as you glance back at the skeevy men. "I'm not getting the best vibes either."<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy giggles a bit at that. "Hey so like I walked up here yeah," she says. "It's cool if I hitch a ride with you right?"<br/>
<br/>
You don't really know why that would be a problem but you appreciate the gesture of asking all the same so naturally you tell her it's fine. As she climbs into the truck your jaw drops as you see just the tiniest peak of her ass hanging out the bottom of her shorts... and it's a nice ass too. Red faced you scramble around and into the driver's seat. You don't say anything but as you turn the truck on Dorothy, having now seen you, devolves into a laughing fit.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
Dorothy lives a ways in on Grant and closer to Ingraham in a house that's probably nicer than you expected. Nothing fancy but nice and comfortable looking from the outside. It's a mean thought but Dorothy, while cute, gives off a bit of a trashy vibe so you were expecting something like a trailer park. You follow her inside and are greeted by a nice living room though with a bit of kitschy decoration, notably a red, white and black flag. Prussian, Dorothy mentions. Not that she really knows what it all means, just that her dad's a professor of history at the college and really likes German history.<br/>
<br/>
As you walk through the hallway another girl, slightly older and slightly taller than you, passes by. She says nothing but there's a stern expression behind her glasses. Leigh, Dorothy again tells you, her older sister. She assures you that she's cool though just really serious about her studies.<br/>
<br/>
Finally you enter her room and don't really feel any sense of surprise. A TV, dressers, posters... all of the usual fare you'd expect in a teenager's room.<br/>
<br/>
She plops down on the bed and motions for you to come over so you set your bag on the floor and take a seat next to her. "So, Friday right," she says with a bit more of a somber tone. "I really tried to tell Jordana not to do that."<br/>
<br/>
"It's fine, I got her info from Bethany yesterday and we smoothed things over," you tell her though with a nervous laugh add, "although it's more like she set me straight."<br/>
<br/>
"She does that," Dorothy replies with a brighter tone.<br/>
<br/>
"I just wanted to talk about us on Friday night," you tell her. Her eyes go wide at that. "I mean, inhibitions were loose and all but I still... well, I wanted to know what was up?"<br/>
<br/>
Her gaze casts downward. "You, like, don't know right," she asks in that more somber tone. "About my reputation?"<br/>
<br/>
You give a negative response.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm loose. I'm a slut," she says bluntly. "The cheerleaders and all of them, they call me Whoreothy and Door 'cause I'm always open."<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly you're beginning to feel bad. "That's awful," you say sympathetically.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but, ya know," she then looks up at you with a smile. "it's true. Like to an extent. It's nice, ya know? But I want a boyfriend too. Like something real." She then leans over and wraps her arms around your neck. "It's funny 'cause we share Walburg's class but never talk. But I do see you and like you seem nice and funny."<br/>
<br/>
With that she's kissing your neck and though part of you wants to push away like Friday you're as stiff as the erection you currently have. Dorothy seems to notice and begins rubbing your cock through your shorts.<br/>
<br/>
"You're cute too, ya know," she says. Her words are breathier now. "Like really cute."<br/>
<br/>
"Th-that's," you stutter. "What does... what does that mean."<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy giggles at that. "It meeeaaaans," she teases, "that I like you. Like <i>like</i> like you. For a while now. And I want to show you just how much."<br/>
<br/>
With that, she begins unzipping your pants, pulls out your cock and begins massaging and stroking it while her mouth is soon on yours, her tongue probing your mouth and wrestling with your own. You need to get her off and get that mask but god do you feel so good right now.</span></div></div>


path: 11332111211111222111212211111211111122112122311111213111331111223212211
author_id: rugal
title: Railings and Derailings
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>With Dorothy practically assaulting your mouth and giving you a handjob your thoughts are running wild. Is this it? Is she going to do other things with you? A blowjob maybe or... or... oh god, you might be on the verge of losing your virginity. Sure she'd told you about her reputation but at the moment you're almost too messed up by hormones to care. But you'd agreed to meet with Dorothy to better help your position with Bethany and as good as you feel right now you don't feel like you can betray Bethany like this.<br/>
<br/>
But goddamn do you feel good. You can't think straight and your hormones begin winning out. You wrap your arms around Dorothy and you hear her squeal as you fall back and you her on top of you. "Oh," she exclaims quickly however as she hops off of you and heads over to the door. She turns the lock and then saunters back over to you. "Don't wanna risk anything ya know?"<br/>
<br/>
Soon she's back on top of you stroking and kissing. This time you don't offer even the faintest hint of reluctance as you're now far too worked up.<br/>
<br/>
As she kisses you she eventually pulls back. You make a noise that vaguely sounds like you're confused but she gives a small giggle and smile as she begins kissing her way down your chest and stomach before moving off the bed and pulling you into a sitting position. Before you can process what's going on she's grabbed your cock and a thrill causes you to shudder as it passes through as you feel her tongue running along your shaft. It's not long however before her entire mouth is around it and her head is bobbing back and forth. Probably because it's your first time it's also not long before you're cumming.<br/>
<br/>
After swallowing and with a laugh Dorothy is up on her feet and pulling off her shirt. You can only stare in amazement before she indicates for you to do the same and you're thus scrambling to remove whatever clothing you can. It's as you're taking off your shorts that you hear your phone go off and, pulling it out of your pocket you take a look though more in annoyance to see who could be bothering you at this time.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb? Yeah, no. He can wait. So you toss the phone down and finish stripping. Dorothy, by this point, is already fully nude and practically beckoning you like some kind of eastern temptress straight out of Roman history. You're on the bed and nearly on top of her when you stop as realization hits you.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, i-i-is this, you know," you stutter out. "I-I mean we... we don't even have any... any... the things. You know?"<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy rolls her eyes as she pulls you down on her. "It's fiiine, you don't have to worry about, 'kay," she says as she gives you a lazy smile. "I'm not dumb about this stuff so, like, I take care of it every day ya know," she continues. "Just trust a girl on this, aight?"<br/>
<br/>
With that she guides your dick in and though you try doing what you've seen in pornos it doesn't really have as much of an effect making it more awkward than anything. So Dorothy takes the lead and, while you're not sure how long the entire experience lasts you can tell by her little whimpers and moans that she's enjoying it. Especially as you feel yourself explode once more and collapse nearly in a heap on her.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," is all you can mumble as you roll to the side. You're absolutely spent.<br/>
<br/>
"First time," asks Dorothy inbetween breaths.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, yeah," you reply. "I, uh, hope that it didn't, you know, suck."<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy's response is a giggle--as she is seemingly a very giggly person--and to just embrace you and give you another kiss. She then nuzzles her head against your chest and there's a small sigh of contentment. It's sort of weird you muse to yourself. You've spent all of this time chasing after a ghost in Lisa or lost in confusion with Bethany. Yet here is someone who told you she liked you, seems genuine about it and even...<br/>
<br/>
But there is her reputation. Would it be bad for you if...? Would Caleb be happy you're done with Lisa or would he make fun of you? Would you be seen as the guy so desperate enough for a girlfriend or so pathetic that you had to stoop to such a level? But as she gives you another squeeze you wonder if you should even care? Besides she said she was looking for a real boyfriend. Maybe it'd look good: the guy who managed to tame Dorothy Harmon. There's something appealing to you about the idea of the bad girl gone good.<br/>
<br/>
But there's still Bethany, that's why you came here in the first place. You're not sure how long you've been laying here on the bed, or how long that took, so you need to...<br/>
<br/>
"Shit," Dorothy exclaims and it's the most energy you've heard in her voice. "My parents are back!"<br/>
<br/>
You do hear what sounds like car doors closing from outside.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey so, like, get dressed and get outta here 'kay," she says as she gets dressed though replacing the shorts with more conservative sweatpants. "'Cause, like, I'm still his little princess and junk so he does <i>not</i> like guys over."<br/>
<br/>
You don't argue with any of that so quickly you throw your clothes on, get your shoes and your ballcap and head with Dorothy out into the hallway. "Hey daddy," she chirps in a manner that's so unlike what you've been hearing. "You and mom have a nice dinner?"<br/>
<br/>
Mr. Harmon is about what you'd expect from a college professor. He's slightly taller than you, well dressed and like Dorothy's sister there's a serious look in his eyes behind his glasses. A thick graying mustache rests on his lip and his hair, also graying, is swept to one side and parted.<br/>
<br/>
"Hello, sir," you reply nervously as he turns that serious look on you.<br/>
<br/>
"Hello yourself," he replies though it's less of a greeting and more of a question.<br/>
<br/>
"This is Will, daddy," Dorothy answers for you. "He just came over to help me with something for Mr. Walberg since we share the same class."<br/>
<br/>
Mr. Harmon is silent for a few seconds though his response, a simple wordless acceptance, thankfully lightens the tension. "Charles always was the serious one," he says, more to himself than to either of you, as he continues towards the other side of the house.<br/>
<br/>
Once you're outside Dorothy tells you that she'll see you at school tomorrow and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before heading back in. As you hop in your truck and head home you're feeling pretty great all things told. So great, in fact, that it's only once you're close to your house that the high wears off and you realize you forgot to even do the thing you went there to do.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
"Fuck," you exclaim as you toss your bag to the ground beside your desk in frustration and take your seat.<br/>
<br/>
"It's just a phone," Caleb says unsympathetically. "You're not going to die without it. Just grab it when you get home."<br/>
<br/>
You were nearly late this morning as your phone, which doubles as your alarm, has gone missing and you woke up far behind schedule. "It's not <i>at</i> home, that's the problem," you lament. "I was actually at Dorothy Harmon's--"<br/>
<br/>
"Dorothy," Caleb asks. "The slut?"<br/>
<br/>
"The sl--hey, fuck you," you protest. "But yeah, her."<br/>
<br/>
"Not trying to be mean, she's cute and all. Just saying," Caleb shrugs. "Good for you though, slugger. You're a man now."<br/>
<br/>
"We didn't... urgh," you grumble. "Look I just needed to talk to her about Bethany and some stuff that happened on Friday and I guess I left my phone there on accident."<br/>
<br/>
"So get it back," Caleb counters.<br/>
<br/>
"How," you whine. "I don't really have any excuse for going over there."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have," Caleb starts in frustration. "Yes, shit for brains, you do."<br/>
<br/>
Almost on cue, Dorothy walks by and her face brightens up when she sees you. "Heeeyyy Will," she greets you. "You left your phone at my place and, like, I toootally forgot to bring it. If you wanna, drop by after school." With that she laughs a little as she walks past and around you to take a seat on the other side of the room.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah, you definitely do," Caleb grins.<br/>
<br/>
"How do you even know about... her," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Word gets around, everyone knows," he says. "But I'm not one to judge. Like I said, she's cute and available. I'd be there in a heartbeat if I were in your shoes."<br/>
<br/>
Much of a prick as he's being he's right and you have to admit that part of you is excited about the prospect of spending some more time with her just wondering what, if anything, will happen this time. Besides you really would like your phone back.</span></div></div>


path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232122111
author_id: rugal
title: Dorothy's Discovery
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Yeah, you'll definitely make your way over to Dorothy's after school. Like Caleb said you have reason to and the idea. So you wait impatiently through Walberg's class. Then you want impatiently through most of the rest of the day. At lunch you take a detour out to the same area you've been seeing Bethany take her lunch but both Andrea <i>and</i> Kristy Suffolk are there as well and that immediately kills your spirits. Not that normally you wouldn't like seeing either one but it's Bethany you want to talk to, alone and in private. Besides Andrea has not left a good impression on you so far.<br/>
<br/>
So you trudge through the second half of the day managing, despite all odds, to avoid your bullies. When the final bell rings you can hardly contain yourself and practically run out the door and to your truck. Once you're in you bolt out of the parking lot... and right into backed up traffic thanks to an accident. Your head almost instantaneously meets the steering wheel.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
You feel your palms begin to sweat as you drive up Grant and approach Dorothy's house. You wonder why it is that you're feeling so nervous anyway? You didn't feel overly nervous coming here last night and were excited when school let out. She's not your girlfriend or anything and despite what raced through your mind earlier, you're just going in to get your phone and get out. Maybe that failed attempt at trying to meet with Bethany is still playing through your mind. Maybe the bad traffic gave you too much time to think.<br/>
<br/>
Once you park you give yourself a moment to breathe and then step out. With your legs feeling like jello you walk up to door and with a little further hesitation you ring the doorbell. It's a moment or two before the door finally opens and your jaw nearly drops. It's Dorothy's sister but wearing little more than a large Keyserling sweater and nothing else. It also takes you a moment to register that she's not wearing the glasses you saw last night and now you're worried that you've roused her from a nap.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, I'm uh," you nervously stutter as you try and fail to complete the introduction.<br/>
<br/>
"Will, right," replies Leigh with apparent disinterest. "Dorothy told me you were coming to get your phone."<br/>
<br/>
"She did," you ask, still not losing that nervousness. "I mean yeah, I left it here by mistake."<br/>
<br/>
Leigh motions for you to come in and closes the door behind her. "She said if you got here before her that it's in her room," she states.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, um, well <i>is</i> she here," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Leigh shakes her head as she walks past you and towards the kitchen. You veer off down the hallway towards where you remember Dorothy's room being. There's two on opposite sides but since the one with the open door shows a study desk and other things that'd indicate a college student you guess that it's the opposite. You open the door and before you can step in you feel your stomach drop.<br/>
<br/>
Sitting right there, on the floor, at the foot of Dorothy's bag is the stuff you'd brought last night to pull off the swap. Fuck, you knew you'd been forgetting something else and now you feel like an idiot. Well, not like Dorothy would know what it was anyway but even still.<br/>
<br/>
Your fretting is broken by the sound of footsteps. "Sorry," you apologize to Leigh as you step out of her way and into Dorothy's room.<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever," she replies dully but then stops. "Actually not whatever. Are you Dorothy's boyfriend," she asks without turning around.<br/>
<br/>
"B-boyfriend," you exclaim in shock. "I'm, uh, just a classmate who was helping her out with a class that's all."<br/>
<br/>
"Really," she replies. "Because she seemed pretty happy for something that was just a study session. But if you're not her boyfriend..."<br/>
<br/>
Leigh turns around and there's a devilish look on her face as she advances to you. You back up into Dorothy's room but she simply keeps up the pursuit and once she's crossed the threshold she closes the door behind her. You continue backing up until you trip over the bag and fall onto the bed. Leigh takes that opportunity to pounce and gives you a deep kiss and you wonder if both sisters are just weird nymphos. But once that kiss is finished she pulls up, still wearing that devilish smile, and laughs.<br/>
<br/>
"Heeeyyy Will," she says and the way it's said instantly triggers your brain.<br/>
<br/>
"Dorothy?!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
Your head hurts. You're sitting here in Dorothy's room, on her bed. Sitting next to you wearing nothing but a Keyserling sweater and some underwear is Dorothy herself. Sitting between the both of you is a mask of Leigh Harmon, Dorothy's older sister. Yes, your head very much hurts.<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck is going on," you ask once the shock has cleared enough for you to speak. "Dorothy, how did you...?"<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy's expression is one of amusement as she heads over to where your phone is, grabs it and tosses it to you. "You really need to be more careful with what you leave laying around," she says as she sits back down.<br/>
<br/>
Your phone! You unlock it and are greeted by the texts you've been sending back and forth with Braydon. Oh god, you are so fucked!<br/>
<br/>
"I saw that and I also saw the weird stuff you left here," she says and her voice is slightly more serious than her voice. "So I got to school this morning and totally dropped in on Braydon. Gillian wasn't happy about that," she giggles. "I spent the time before first period asking him what all this stuff was. He was actually reeeaaally happy to talk about it and told me everything."<br/>
<br/>
She looks from the mask and then back to you and the amused expression has faded. "So, like, you were gonna use this on me right? To try and help things with Bethany," she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry," you reply quietly. "I mean I really did want to talk to you about Friday too."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not mad if that's what you're worried about," she says. "This stuff is, like, actually really neat."<br/>
<br/>
"When did you figure it out," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I already told you, Braydon told me everything and said I could join you guys in... it's called, like, LARP or something right," she replies. "So I just had him text me what I need to do and I kinda took off after Walberg's class."<br/>
<br/>
"So you came home and made a mask of your sister," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, totally," she nods. "Then I just hung out until she left for class and did the rest of what Braydon told me. It was, like, really wild being her." You then notice her face light up as she grabs Leigh's mask. "Hey so like what do you think? Of Leigh, I mean," she asks.<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy's sister is tall and skinnier than Dorothy. She's pretty but it's a very bookish kind of pretty as if she would slip well into the role of the sexy librarian or the uptight brainiac who finally lets her hair down.<br/>
<br/>
"She's nice, I guess," you reply in a noncommittal manner.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to lie, Will. I told you I'm not mad," she says with a smile. "I was thinking that this LARP stuff seems cool. Braydon told me that you can, like, take these masks and put some stuff in them and then you put them on somebody and you control them right? Well I want to see how this stuff works. Like how deep can you go."<br/>
<br/>
"How deep?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well yeah, there are the little bands right? But I can be my sister easy," she states. "But can you do it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, you mean put my mask under my control or your control and then have me become your sister," you ask in astonishment.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, for like a day. I wanna see if I could tell no difference at all between you and the real one," she says. "But I mean if that's kinda weird for you," she looks at you and the devilish look you saw on the face of "Leigh" is back. "I can see what Braydon has and I can meet up with you after school."<br/>
<br/>
"What would that mean," you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy continues giving you that same look. "We can do it again. But I'll be a different girl, it'll be kinky," she says. "I won't tell you who though. It'll be a surprise."<br/>
<br/>
Oh Jesus, is she saying she'll show up as... as Chelsea or Kendra or someone and... Oh god, you'll get to fuck Eva or Jessica or Yumi? That <i>is</i> what she's implying right?<br/>
<br/>
"But if you do that," she says as she sidles up to you, "we're dating."</span></div></div>


path: 11332111211111222111212211111211111122112122311111213111331111223212212
author_id: rugal
title: Those With Bad Reputations
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>With Dorothy practically assaulting your mouth <i>and</i> giving you a handjob your thoughts are running wild. Is this it? Is she going to do other things with you? A blowjob maybe or... or... oh god, you might be on the verge of losing your virginity. Sure she'd told you about her reputation but at the moment you're almost too messed up by hormones to care. But you'd agreed to meet with Dorothy to better help your position with Bethany and as good as you feel right now you don't feel like you can betray Bethany like this.<br/>
<br/>
So with reluctance, very great reluctance, you push her off of you and pull back. She looks surprised and a little hurt by that so you try to placate her a little bit. "Look, if we're going to do this we need to, you know," you say awkwardly, "do it right. Protection and all of that."<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy simply nods as you dig around in your bag. You see everything you'll need and it takes you a second before you're able to differentiate between your own mask and the blank but once you've got it figured out you pull it out. You hear an inquisitive noise from Dorothy and with one arm pull her in close. She's expecting a kiss but instead, as quickly as possible, you use your other hand to shove the blank mask onto her face.<br/>
<br/>
She makes no sound but freezes up and falls like a sack of potatoes into your lap. She's not heavy but you're not strong so it takes a bit of effort but you're able to lay her onto the bed. You then gulp as, if you're going to LARP as her, you're going to need to remove her clothes so quickly you jump up and lock the door to make sure nobody gets in.<br/>
<br/>
You're finally able to take a good look at her as you do. Her hair is still in that ponytail and bangs hang over her forehead giving her hairstyle a little bit of a stereotypically fifties look; as you undo the ponytail you note that her hair isn't that long stopping a little above her shoulders. Her eyes, open but staring at nothing, are a deep brown to match her hair and her nose has just the vaguest hint of a Roman quality to it while her face takes on a pleasant square shape.<br/>
<br/>
You move on to her shirt and can't help but stare at her chest watching as it rises and falls with each breath. Tentatively you pull off her tanktop and are struck by the fact you notice her chest isn't as big as you'd thought, just her shirt and bra--which you also tentatively remove exposing her breasts--doing a lot of work. It's not bad but you can't help but feel a bit disappointed.<br/>
<br/>
Then it's removing her shorts but you can see so much that you half wonder what the point is of even wearing them. Still her legs are smooth and like the feeling of her skin as you pull them off revealing the black panties, a thong to no surprise, she's wearing. With even more trepidation you're able to pull them off as well and Dorothy Harmon is exposed to you in all your glory. Your stiffy is raging out of control now and you consider letting her go a round with you once she comes to but you manage to stifle those thoughts and instead grab your phone out of your pocket and type out a message to Braydon.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Dorothy Harmon,</i> you text. <i>Know her?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>Vaguely,</i> comes the reply. <i>Gillian knows her.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>Alright well I'll see you tomorrow then. Meet up at the hideout before school?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>Sure.</i><br/>
<br/>
You then put your phone down and wait somewhat impatiently for the mask to emerge making sure to remove the rest of what you'll need. Once it does you slap the mind band on her and make sure to seal up the mask. You then grab your own mask and apply what'll be needed to put it under your control. Once the band emerges you make sure to attach it to the mask and place the now treated Will Prescott mask on Dorothy's face. With a deep breath you then lay back and place the mask of Dorothy on your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You awake with a feeling that something's wrong. It's your clothes, they're loose and baggy on you and... oh my god they're a boy's! Not just any boy's you realize as you look at the shirt but they're Will's! There's a feeling of contentment that washes over you but that turns to one of shock and excitement as you see Will sitting next to you on the bed completely nude. What happened? You were making out with him and... did you? No, nothing happened. He pushed you away but....<br/>
<br/>
"Heeeey Will," you coo as you push him down and practically hop on him much to his surprise. With a giggle you lean down and begin kissing him, working your way downwards from his mouth to his chest until finally you grab his cock and eye it hungrily. Yeah, you'll give him a nice little blowjob, let him know what he can get.<br/>
<br/>
But as quickly as that thought enters you push it away and with a yelp back up leaving Will shocked and blue balled.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry it was just," you give him a look, "she wasn't lying about having a thing for Will Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"Holy shit, so like I could've gotten with her," he asks as his eyes bug out.<br/>
<br/>
"Well it's not like I knew she existed," you reply. "Maybe it's because she sits on the opposite side of the room or something but I never noticed her. We don't run in the same social circles or anything either."<br/>
<br/>
Yeah, you never noticed Dorothy but she certainly noticed you. She saw the way you'd interact with people like Caleb and Cassie Harper and there was something about it that always struck her as nice if kind of spastic. Your looks too which you've never thought much of but seeing yourself from Dorothy's perspective you can see what kind of appeal you might have. You're scrawny but there's a boyish charm there and a kind of cute awkwardness.<br/>
<br/>
It's a damn sight different from most of the guys Dorothy hangs around with or has slept with and you notice somewhat negative feelings come from even bringing that up.<br/>
<br/>
So you push that aside and simply go back to giving direction to Will as you remove your clothes and toss them over to him. "Just keep everything normal," you tell him. "Don't seek out Bethany because I don't need things getting fucked with her before I can talk with her. Don't blow her off if she tries to talk to you though. Just do everything the way I, you, normally would. Got it?"<br/>
<br/>
He nods at that as he pulls everything on.<br/>
<br/>
"Good, then once you're dressed get out. You don't want to get dad pissed."<br/>
<br/>
You don't even bother to get dressed yourself as, once Will's gone, you lock the door behind him and fall onto your new bed. It wasn't just Will that was getting blue balled there, for lack of a better term, and Dorothy's body is aching at having come so close to getting laid and with a boy she genuinely likes and getting nothing. You decide to give the girl a little bit of fulfillment though and as you grab a breast and run a finger down to your vagina you allow yourself to fully enjoy the perks of being Dorothy Harmon.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Braaayyydon," you lazily call as you bound up to him in the parking lot of the abandoned elementary school and wrap your arms around him. This causes him to jump a bit and squirm out of your grip and you laugh a little as he backs up and turns around.<br/>
<br/>
"That you," he asks with a hint of nervousness.<br/>
<br/>
You give a little pose to show yourself off. "Nice right," you ask proudly.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, yeah sure," he says. "So how long are you staying there?"<br/>
<br/>
"A day or two," you shrug. "I dunno I need to talk to Bethany and do some other stuff. I'm also going to have to put that stuff for the golems on her mask because she has it bad for me which, ya know, is gonna cause problems otherwise."<br/>
<br/>
"It's a good problem to have," Braydon replies.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah but she's... loose," you tell him. "I don't think you'd want a list of guys she's been with."<br/>
<br/>
"So what," he says as a grin creeps onto his face. "If she's into you and easy then it means you'll probably be getting it real good and real often from her."<br/>
<br/>
You groan a bit at that, less out of disgust and more out of being reminded again that you blew off a chance to get with a girl last night. "Look, I don't plan on hooking up with Dorothy. She's just a tool to help out my relationship with Bethany that's all," you tell him. "Anyway here." You pull out a slip of paper from your purse and hand it to Braydon. "It's Dorothy's number. If I'm gonna be here you'll probably need it."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't talk to will, talk to Dorothy. Got it," he says. "Maybe I'll pay you a visit once I'm Marc." His look as positively lascivious at that point but you ignore it and head back to Dorothy's small Hyundai that's almost as old as you.<br/>
<br/>
You're not sure what to expect from school today even with Dorothy's mind right there. You do know that you want to try and get an after school meeting set up with Bethany though but before you do that... you let out a sigh. Dorothy's plan before you talked to her was too hook up with Justin Roth after school. She's running low on weed so she figured she'd meet up with him to get some more and maybe get a quick fuck out of it.<br/>
<br/>
But for as handsome and superficially charming as Roth is Dorothy doesn't particularly like him. But when she's short on money she knows that he's good to give her some in return for getting laid. She does like sex but when she does it with Roth for some weed... there's some feelings of shame that come bubbling up.<br/>
<br/>
It's not a good thing but you need to stay as in character as possible. But maybe you should work to improve Dorothy a little bit as well while you've got the opportunity.</span></div></div>


path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232122122
author_id: rugal
title: The Slut
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You give it a good amount of thought as you drive out to the school and by the time you get there you've decided that getting busy with Justin Roth is not how you want to spend a Monday afternoon nor how Dorothy should spend hers.<br/>
<br/>
Though even with that decision you still have to squash a nagging thought. You don't plan on being Dorothy for long, just long enough to get a feel for Bethany and her gang and try and nudge things along in your favor, so what does it really matter if you don't want fuck Roth for some weed? You say you'd be trying to improve Dorothy's life but isn't it really just to stop from inconveniencing you or grossing you out? Maybe you're misinterpreting your own feelings towards that prospect as her own on the matter.<br/>
<br/>
Because you can't help but feel bad about it: it's not a thing that happens often but she's still basically whoring herself out for drugs even though she could be doing it way more frequently with way worse stuff and way worse guys. There is that reputation to consider too, you think, as you find her usual parking space about as far away from the main building as possible.<br/>
<br/>
It's a reputation that well precedes her in the school... well among most people you guess, certainly it was not something you were even aware of given your lack of awareness of her existence. But Spencer Osborne knows and as you walk by the car he's standing next to with his buddy Brad Murphy as well as his little sister Leslie. Following Dorothy's instincts you glide on over to them and clasp him around the arm. "Ozzy," you chirp with a goofy smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Dorothy, babe, what's happening," he smiles as he bends down.<br/>
<br/>
You giggle as he gives you a quick little peck on the lips. "Nothin' too different," you reply. "I just saw you and was like, wow, we haven't hung out in a while, ya know? It's been soooo long!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure! Like you an' me--"<br/>
<br/>
"Me," Brad chimes in.<br/>
<br/>
"Brad," you continue. "Jordana, Nancy, Andy. Just everyone. You too," you say as you flash a smile at Leslie who rolls her eyes. "Wassup Les?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just waiting for Laura to hurry up and get here so we can get to class," she replies with growing impatience.<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy finds it amusing. She can remember middle school Leslie, the rebellious punk who teased and maybe even bullied the mousey Laura Serrano. Now she's the serious and applied overachiever who's practically joined at the hip with who many view as a potential second Kelsey. At the end of eighth grade Leslie was a future Jordana, now she's a future Leigh.<br/>
<br/>
"Cool," you say turning back to Spencer. "But yeah, we should toootally all hang out some time."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, yeah. I'll get back to you. You know I've always got time for you babe," he says as he gives you another quick kiss as you bid goodbye and head off towards the building.<br/>
<br/>
That's the good type of recognition. Spencer and Dorothy have known each other since the sixth grade and dated off and on from the eighth grade until early in the eleventh and to your surprise, despite--or maybe because of--her reputation, he's the only real boyfriend she's ever had.<br/>
<br/>
But there's also the bad recognition which you get as Chelsea and her squad barrel their way past you. "You're a Door so make like one," you hear her grumble as her two main yes girls, Gloria and Kendra, titter away at that. Though you can tell from the looks on their faces that Dorothy's not getting any sympathy from the other cheerleaders either. Even Yumi, someone Will Prescott is on friendly terms with, walks past with an imperious air not even deigning to throw the slightest apologetic gaze in your direction.<br/>
<br/>
It's a crappy situation. Dorothy's a nice girl but her social standing is only a hair above your own and she seems not to get much respect from anyone but the other stoners and dregs with the possible exception of Bethany. You think back to what Braydon said to you earlier, about how she'd probably be an easy lay and her mind tells you that more than one of the nerds has approached her for that reason. Not that she's ever done it, well except the one... oh, but that was because he was kind of cute and adorable with how shy and earnest he was.<br/>
<br/>
That's when you're hit by another thought from Dorothy's mind as you finagle with her locker to get what you'll need for Walberg's class. Where you feel bad, Dorothy doesn't. You think back to what she'd said to you last night when she told you about how people talk to her and then said, with no apparent bitterness, that they were right. Maybe they exaggerate it but for as much as it's getting to you it doesn't seem that it gets to Dorothy near as much.<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy likes what she likes and does what she does. She'll never mingle with the Chelsea Coopers and Kelsey Blankeships or even Kim Walshes of the world and that's fine. She has her friends and lives an otherwise decent life. She steers clear of drama and lets what the more popular girls say roll off of her. With the exception of Roth, again something that doesn't come up all that often, there's nothing that really gets to her.<br/>
<br/>
Outside of your occasional bullies Will Prescott is pretty much a non-entity. Chelsea or Steve Patterson or whoever don't target you for anything. Dorothy does get it from them though and just keeps on and it doesn't seem to be any mere facade protecting deeper insecurities. She has a very strong sense of self and, for better or worse, is who she is. You actually find it kind of admirable.<br/>
<br/>
But even with that you are sure as shit not getting ram jammed by Justin Roth you decide as you enter Walberg's classroom. You give a lazy but knowing smile Will who simply looks down in embarrassment as you walk past him to take a seat in a the back row on the other side of the room.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
"Hey, so, like, I talked to Will last night right," you say as you sit at the portables during second period. Ceres passes you a joint and you inhale before passing it to Nancy.<br/>
<br/>
"Really," is all Jordana says. You find it hard to gauge her reaction as her perpetual bedhead is extra messy today and is practically hiding her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, we talked about how much of a cunt you are Jordana," you say. You laugh as you manage to squirm out of the way of a fist. It's not actually serious from either you or Jodana but part of you still feels good about saying it all the same. "But for real that was, like, reeeaaally mean."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh gosh, I should've known that was you," Ceres groans.<br/>
<br/>
"I already got on her ass about it," adds Nancy as she passes the joint to Jordana.<br/>
<br/>
"Tough love," Jordana replies defensively. "He needed to stop being such a poseur."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, like, it wasn't really about you," you say as you take the joint for another hit. "He was all nervous and junk about what happened with us Friday."<br/>
<br/>
"Us," asks Nancy. "Like you and him?"<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't," Ceres gasps as you pass it to her.<br/>
<br/>
"Bethany told me about how she was hanging off of him," Jordana says with amusement.<br/>
<br/>
"Dorothy," Ceres squeaks.<br/>
<br/>
"I mean I was kinda traaashed," you giggle. "But I didn't do anything."<br/>
<br/>
"So did you tell him then," Nancy asks. "I mean if he was curious and all."<br/>
<br/>
"I mean I had'a set the record straight, right," you reply. "But like nothin' happened last night too so don't worry."<br/>
<br/>
"You're still gonna have to set the record straight with Bethany too," says Jordana. "We don't need drama here."<br/>
<br/>
"But does she know," asks Ceres with concern in her soft voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty sure does," Jordana replies. "She was real quick to shut that down from what she told me."<br/>
<br/>
Wait she knows? Bethany knows? About what? Your mind flashes back to Friday night. The memory of Dorothy hanging off of you and ready to go find a dark corner somewhere before Bethany shut that down and, after trying to defend yourself, assured you that she "knew all about her". Well with the reputation Dorothy has of course Bethany would know but given what everyone else is saying... shit, Dorothy's little crush is probably not too secret is it? So what Bethany knew was likely too fold.<br/>
<br/>
As the joint makes its way back to you and you take yet another hit, you have the sinking feelings that by going to Dorothy you may have just inadvertently complicated things even further. But you've made your choice so you decide to show a little of the same back bone Dorothy does and see it through. But maybe just going and asking Bethany straight up about how she feels is a bad idea. Maybe you should do a little fishing and see if you can just bait it out of her while hopefully minimizing any drama.</span></div></div>


path: 11332111211111222111212211111211111122112122311111213111331111223213
author_id: seuzz
title: The Sunday After Friday
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>All the drama surrounding these pictures gives you a headache. Is this what it's going to be like to plunge into the dating scene at Westside? Isn't it enough that you have to dodge the uber-bullies like Gordon Black, Steve Patterson and Jason Lynch; and the psycho-bullies like David Kirkham, Gary Chen, and Joshua Call; and the personal bullies like Lester Pozniak and Seth Javits? Are you also going to have to navigate girl-barracudas like Jordana?<br/>
<br/>
You are suddenly sickened by the idea of larping as one of Bethany's friends in order to fight these girls in their own waters and on their own terms. With the guy bullies, you get along as best you can by dodging ignoring them; maybe it's just best to do the same with the girls. Probably you should just hang out with Bethany -- get her to see your good qualities (such as they are) -- trust to her good sense (and pray she has some).<br/>
<br/>
That still leaves you with the question of who to larp as with Braydon. <br/>
<br/>
And as soon as you phrase it to yourself that way -- "larping with Braydon" -- you see, if not the answer to the question, then what kind of answer it will be.<br/>
<br/>
So after getting home you fire him off a text: <i>who does marc hang out w/?</i><br/>
<br/>
It's a half hour before the answer comes. <i>dont know wont know till monday<br/>
<br/>
ok, want to larp as one of his friends buds whatev<br/>
<br/>
cool i'll think about it, let u know @school<br/>
what happened to andrea?<br/>
<br/>
no plan, plus other stuff<br/>
just complicated<br/>
<br/>
ok if u say so<br/>
anything else?</i><br/>
<br/>
There isn't, so you sign off for the night, and spend a thoughtful evening contemplating what you're about to do.<br/>
<br/>
You're about to steal someone's form and identity, and go to school and hang out with their friends, and pretend to be them, without anyone catching on.<br/>
<br/>
You're about to step out of the familiar, grimy, claustrophobic confines of your own existence, and into the bracing ozone of another.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But there's Sunday to get through first. Morning is church, and then there's a lunch. After that's all done you change into more comfortable clothes. The utter familiarity of the rituals -- and the boredom associated with them -- rub like sandpaper under your skin as you imagine what's going to be coming soon.<br/>
<br/>
But you've another sort of escape you can make in the meantime, and after your dad is laying down for his Sunday nap on the couch you tell your mom you're going up to the mall to hang out. When she asks if you'll be meeting Caleb or Keith up there, you reply with an ambiguous shrug.<br/>
<br/>
It's three o'clock when you go sauntering into the mall -- your hands jammed deep into the pockets of your cargo shorts -- toward the Sunglasses Shack where Bethany works. You forgot Justin's brain-band, so you're on your own. Bethany puts her chin in her elbow and smiles at you as make the long, long ... very long ... walk up to her. "Why don't they move this place closer to the entrance?" you ask when you finally reach her.<br/>
<br/>
"You could have come through Farrells," she replies, and shows a dimple as she nods toward the nearby department store.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't like going through there." You put your hands on the edge of the kiosk and do a couple of half-assed dips. "Makes me think of back-to-school shopping and crap like -- " You break off at a thought. "Except I do need some new clothes. Help me pick some out?"<br/>
<br/>
She laughs. "You can't pick out your own?'<br/>
<br/>
<i>Not according to Jordana.</i> That was one of her catty remarks. So almost as soon as Bethany says it, you feel the light die in your eye and the wind die in your chest.<br/>
<br/>
The same thing happens on Bethany's face, and suddenly you can't meet her eyes. She saw the same shit on Snapchat, you realize, and now she knows that you saw it too.<br/>
<br/>
You suck on your upper lip and shrug. A couple of possible replies buzz through your brain, but they're so obviously awful that you've no trouble swatting them away impatiently. <i>Maybe you should dress me so we look like we belong together. I let my mom dress me when I was a kid, I guess you could dress me now. Obviously I don't know what I'm doing, so obviously you'd dress me better.</i> But you've got to say something, so after an awkward pause you stammer out something like, "Shopping is something -- "<br/>
<br/>
But she started talking at the same time. "I don't think I -- "<br/>
<br/>
You both stop, laugh. "Go ahead." "No, you go first."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I was just going to say, shopping is something to do together that isn't, you know, a <i>date.</i> I mean, I had a lot of fun Friday night," you hastily add.<br/>
<br/>
And that brings up the nasty memories of those pictures again. You looking stoned. You looking goofy. You looking like a strutting, twitching tool.<br/>
<br/>
"I did too," Bethany says, and she runs her fingertips down your arm.<br/>
<br/>
Every part of you goes up on tippy-toes.<br/>
<br/>
"You know, I don't ever have fun like that," you stammer. "I'm not used to it."<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't matter. You were having fun, so I was too." Bethany shrugs awkwardly, and her jaw works. You have the impression she's fighting down a grin.<br/>
<br/>
You would really like to lean forward now and kiss her, but just then a pack of middle school girls come trampling up and demand Bethany's attention. You withdraw to the side and lean against the kiosk, to listen and watch as she deals patiently with them.<br/>
<br/>
When they're done and have left, Bethany comes over to where you are. You lay your hands palm up on the counter and flex your fingers, hoping she'll put her hands in yours. But she doesn't, so you just keep flexing them nervously.<br/>
<br/>
"You know, last Sunday, when I came up here, I was being really silly and goofy, and I did some stuff I don't normally do," you tell her. "Like, I don't normally, uh, what I did after we left here and I was walking you out?" You stare into your hands and wish your face wasn't burning quite so bad. "I don't normally do that." <i>No, but apparently Darrell Parsons normally does that kind of thing, or he does that kind of thing while disguised as you.</i><br/>
<br/>
"I didn't think so," she says. "But I liked it anyway."<br/>
<br/>
It hurts as you draw a deep breath. "Well, I wasn't high, just so you know. Not technically, not literally. I was just having so much fun being with you."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks. I did too. I <i>do,</i> too," she adds<br/>
<br/>
A swelling ache fills your chest. That wasn't you last Sunday, and it wasn't really you on Friday night either, and right now you're really unsure you have it in you to be anything like those guys. You're overwhelmed by a desperate desire to confess and plead for mercy. <br/>
<br/>
"Right now," you gasp, "I gotta say I'm having a hard time being silly, 'cos I'm feeling kind of serious." The pause that follows almost sinks the conversation. "I don't know what to ask or say, Bethany. I just want you to know that -- " Your throat constricts. "I'm not flirting or playing or just goofing off with you. I'm not just partying." A terrible thought comes, borne of the memory of that casual make-out session she had with Justin Roth over the summer. "I mean," you add with quick, quiet horror, "if that's all you're doing with me, that's fine, that's great, that's fun too. Anything you want to, uh, do -- " <br/>
<br/>
<i>Crap, that sounds even worse.</i> You have no idea where this is going -- when you started this ghastly paragraph you were only trying to explain why you can't act like the goofball like you were last Sunday -- and now it sounds like you're asking her to marry you.<br/>
<br/>
Ants are crawling all over you scalp, and you rip off your cap and scratch deeply at your head as you bore holes in the countertop with your eyes. "I just want you to know I'm exactly as serious as you are, or want to be. And you don't have to tell me how serious that is. Just, you know, <i>be</i> -- " Your pauses are as awkward and sudden as hiccups. "As serious -- with me -- as you want. Okay?"<br/>
<br/>
It may be the bravest thing you've ever done -- looking down into her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
She smiles. It's not a bright smile, as you'd like it to be. It's only a reassuring smile. "Will," she says. "I'm serious enough that I'll go shopping with you."<br/>
<br/>
Well, that's good enough, you decide. She can't do that shopping with you now, obviously, and it seems like the atmosphere between you has gotten twisted up by that unplanned, blurted confession. So, after telling her you'll see her at school, you leave. You've got that nasty limp in your hips again -- the one that crippled you the day you went looking for her at school -- as you stagger back to your truck.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your cell buzzes many times over the next eighteen hours, with messages from Caleb and Keith and your mom and one or two other people. But the vital one comes Monday morning during second period -- though you're not able to check it until the end of class. It's from Marc Garner, and it includes three names and a question about when your lunch period is. <i>5th,</i> you reply with beating heart. <i>meet me in library then,</i> comes the reply during the break between third and fourth periods.<br/>
<br/>
"Who we gonna eat with?" Caleb asks as you're getting out of your seat. "Or maybe I should ask who are <i>you</i> going to eat with?" You follow his gaze.<br/>
<br/>
He's looking at Bethany, who is lingering by her own desk. She's not looking in your direction, but you can tell she's waiting to see what you do -- are you going to lunch with her or not?</span></div></div>


path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232131
author_id: rugal
title: Incertus
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You feel so uncertain about what you should do but decide that the best course of action is to try and go to lunch with Bethany. None of the names that Braydon provided are of particular interest to you, you realize it's likely Braydon trying to suggest things that <i>he</i> wants, and you'd rather try and get a good idea of where you stand with Bethany before doing anything else. So you shoot a text to the phone Braydon's using in his current guise, <i>can't, sorry. can u meet after school</i>.<br/>
<br/>
<i>sure, we can talk then,</i> comes the quick reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, don't give me any shit," you then tell Caleb. "This is stressful enough as is."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not actually trying to give you any grief for once," Caleb says, "Bethany's a catch. Plus anything to get you to finally move on from Lisa."<br/>
<br/>
That feels like a punch in the gut but only a light one. Since joining up with Braydon, Christian and the rest of them in these LARPing sessions involving the book you haven't thought much about her or Mansfield. You haven't really had the opportunity to. Caleb is right, you realize. Making something work with Bethany or buying yourself in LARPing is doing a lot to put Lisa far into your rearview mirror.<br/>
<br/>
You steel yourself, take and release a deep breath, then head over to Bethany. "Hey," you call out as you walk up to her. She turns to look at you and there's a smile, though somewhat guarded, on her face. However before she can say anything another person, Kristy Suffolk from the girls' basketball team, walks by.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, so are you free for lunch at all," she asks as she places her hands down on Bethany's desk and leans over giving you just the slightest hint of cleavage though quickly you avert your eyes for fear of being caught.<br/>
<br/>
"Just eating with Andrea like usual," comes Bethany's response.<br/>
<br/>
Kristy makes a face though only very briefly. "Well, you don't mind if I hang out with you today do you," she asks. "Almida's in a mood and I so do not want deal with that."<br/>
<br/>
"When is she not in a mood," Bethany snickers.<br/>
<br/>
"Like worse than usual," Kristy groans, "to where even I'm not going to be able to put up with it."<br/>
<br/>
"Well sure, I mean there's no rule that says you can't," Bethany says before turning to you. "Oh right, Will, what are you doing for lunch?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, well, I haven't really decided," you say nervously.<br/>
<br/>
A gleam comes into her eye at that. "Well, if you want to eat with us the more the merrier," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"You kind of have plans though so..."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry about it, it's fine," Bethany reassures you. "Right Kristy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh," Kristy responds as she looks at you. Her expression remains neutral though not dismissiveness. "Oh, sure," she replies in a tone that you're not sure is genuinely positive or her just being polite.<br/>
<br/>
You agree to meet them outside the natatorium as you have to grab your lunch first given that you tend to buy whatever slop the school is serving due to generally feeling too lazy to make yourself a lunch. Briefly you consider asking if it'd be cool to have Caleb along both to show off to him and for a bit of emotional support. Then you realize that would be not only rude but Caleb would just shit on you the whole time to try and impress... Andrea.<br/>
<br/>
You gulp at that but tell Caleb as you pass by him that you'll talk to him later just to take note of his face. You know that you, of all people, getting to hang out with Bethany, Kristy and Andrea will eat at him. The only way it'd be worse for him is if it was Keith doing it. That's enough to lighten your mood at least a little.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
Trying, and likely failing, to hide your nervousness you approach the spot near the natatorium where last week you had first properly met Bethany and Andrea. Kristy, of course, is now there too and while you notice a much more demure body language from Bethany than even five minutes ago, Kristy seems even more animated than she was previously. Andrea is almost impossible to gauge and mentally you muse that she could make a killing in poker with that skill.<br/>
<br/>
Still, you give the customary greeting as Kristy moves over and you sit inbetween her and Bethany. Bethany perks up, if ever so slightly, to return your greeting. Andrea, sitting at an angle across from you, gives an acknowledgment that could be taken a thousand different ways.<br/>
<br/>
Kristy's is brief, "Hey," before she's right back to talking. "So, yeah, like she's just being super bitchy about it which, god, it's going to make practice such a pain," she says.<br/>
<br/>
Bethany takes note of your confused expression and leans over to half-whisper. "Almida," she says simply. She's referring to Almida Jones, the irascible captain of the girls' basketball team.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, her and Chelsea crossed paths yesterday and I have <i>not</i> heard the end of it since," Kristy groans. You don't know of the history between Almida and Westside's self-viewed queen but you'd assume, from that, it's not good.<br/>
<br/>
"Why <i>is</i> she the captain anyway," Andrea asks before taking a bite of her sandwich.<br/>
<br/>
"Why," Kristy replies in confusion.<br/>
<br/>
"Almida's the captain but whenever you're around you complain about her," Andrea states. "She's got a bad attitude from what it sounds like and that's probably why the team could stand to be improved right? You or Nia would probably do much better."<br/>
<br/>
"Me or... oh no," Kristy laughs nervously waving it off. "I like Almida it's just, you know, she has her moments."<br/>
<br/>
"She just seems like somebody trying to move higher than her station. Same as Chelsea and a lot of others." Andrea looks at Kristy, or maybe she's looking at you, hard. "People trying to get to where they don't belong," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't belong," you jump in to the surprise of the other three. Of course you don't know that it was directed at you but you're choosing to take it as a shot.<br/>
<br/>
"Right," Andrea replies coolly. "The season's coming up and the team isn't looking good. That comes from the top down so obviously the person at the top is higher than they're probably qualified for. You don't think that'd be a problem? Someone working their way into a position they're not suited for?"<br/>
<br/>
"I-I just don't think that's your call to make," you say. "Especially if you're not on the team or don't know what's really going on there."<br/>
<br/>
In fact, you're almost sure that was a shot right at you and you feel yourself getting hotter. "Will," Bethany states in response. "I don't think Andrea," she pauses and looks down, "it's nothing. She's just making an observation. It doesn't mean she's right or wrong."<br/>
<br/>
That gets to you more than anything Andrea's said. Surely she picked up on what you thought if she felt the need to jump in but didn't seem to have the will to want to defend you, at least not fully, to Andrea. Well, probably she'd just think she didn't want to cause a scene but even still, you feel upset by that so without a grunt you pick your stuff up and exit.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
You're surprised when you're barely around the corner before Kristy stops you. "Hey, where are you going," she asks in a voice that sounds vaguely like concern.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not wanted there so there's no point in sticking around and making things awkward," you answer.<br/>
<br/>
"You weren't," she stops and tries to gather her thoughts.<br/>
<br/>
"It's obvious Andrea doesn't want me hanging around and then Bethany couldn't even bother to step in."<br/>
<br/>
"Will that's just," again she stops to gather her thoughts. "Look that's how Andrea is. She just... dominates everyone. Most everyone. Bethany's not really exempt from that either. I don't think she meant to seem like she was trying to side with Andrea or something if needling you is what Andrea was even doing."<br/>
<br/>
You don't really say anything in response.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, Bethany was texting me over the weekend about how she was having soooo much fun with you on Friday," she adds. "Don't think that, like, she doesn't like you or anything."<br/>
<br/>
Again you don't really have a response, just a grunt, and you decide to just look for a quiet spot alone to finish the swill that supposedly qualifies as lunch.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<br/>
"Man, that's rough," Marc says sympathetically as you sit, arms crossed on the table and head resting on them, in the library after school's let out for the day. "I feel for you. I really do."<br/>
<br/>
You feel like you've blown your chance with Bethany despite what Kristy said to you after you'd left. That's why you're surprised when you receive a text from Bethany right then asking you to come to her place to talk, well in kind of obtuse terms as she tries to frame it as something more casual.<br/>
<br/>
Marc asks to see the text and offers you a friendly shoulder clap. "Well, maybe it's not so rough after all," he reassures you.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," you sigh, "I don't know what to think. I want a relationship with her but I'm just so uncertain about how she feels about me."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you know, there's a way to know," he says.<br/>
<br/>
He pulls up his book bag, opens it, and slides something over to you: a blank mask. "What are you getting at," you ask before quickly it dawns on you. "Dude, what the hell?"<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I mean you wanna know right? Just do it, LARP for a day or two, put everything back and it's all good."<br/>
<br/>
You can't believe he'd even suggest that. To just use the mask on Bethany herself and take over her life? That's preposterous and wrong... and makes a whole lot of sense you admit. You know you don't permanently retain everything from the masks but doing like he says will give you a new appreciation for her and it has been mostly harmless so far.<br/>
<br/>
So why does it feel so wrong now? Why is there a little voice at the back of your head whispering that it'd be a bad idea?</span></div></div>


path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232132
author_id: seuzz
title: Choice Cuts
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You can't blow off Braydon, but you don't think your meeting with him will take very long. So you hurry over to Bethany. She looks up at you from her phone with an expression of faint surprise.<br/>
<br/>
As well she might. It just now occurs to you that you could have sat with her during English class. <i>Well, shit ...</i><br/>
<br/>
"Hey, I have to talk to a guy real fast this period," you tell her. "But can I come find you for lunch afterward?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, sure," she says. "I'll be sitting with Andrea."<br/>
<br/>
You have the impression she's studying your reaction closely. "Great," you say with brittle enthusiasm. "By the natatorium, right? I'll catch up to you then."<br/>
<br/>
Nervously, you hop backward, and are halfway across the room before spinning around to find Caleb. But he's gone already.<br/>
<br/>
You sprint off to the library, weaving and dodging your way through the crowds.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Marc Garner is seated at a table near the front when you burst in. He's looking at his cell phone, but he sees you and signals you with a hand raised high in the air. "Hey Will," he calls cheerfully, and points to a seat next to him. In three long strides you're there.<br/>
<br/>
He is sprawled out with all the lazy confidence of a popular jock-senior: chair pushed back, the soles of his feet set against the edge of the table, knees splayed out so  his package has maximum room to breathe. He's in jeans, a white t-shirt, and a blue-and-white letterman jacket. His face is tanned and glowing from exercise, but his spiky blonde hair and blue eyes gleam brightly. "So you got my email," he says. "I'm skipping to talk to you, you know. Psych class. Pfft." He glances around.<br/>
<br/>
You nod, and while he leans back and stretches, you hunch over the table. "So those names, how hard would it be to get them?" you murmur. "I mean, who'd be easiest?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't settle for easy, Will," he replies. "I mean, none of them are hard. I'm not going anywhere this week." He twines his fingers behind his head. "Not till next Sunday, at least."<br/>
<br/>
"That long?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's a nice spot. Wait'll you see." He makes one quick, darting look around, then says in a low voice. "I told Gillian I've given up larping for awhile, so she thinks it's me with her."<br/>
<br/>
You blink. <i>A week in another life? A week to leave a fake Will Prescott with Bethany?</i> Would that be an awful thing, or a relief from the burden of trying to get right with her?<br/>
<br/>
Deep down, you probably realize you've already settled that issue, just by ditching Bethany to come talk to Braydon.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. But why those three? What's the advantages?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Jesus, it's pretty obvious, isn't it? Well -- " He shrugs. "Okay, Marcos is the guy you met at the Warehouse Friday night. You know, he sat down with you and Marc at the table?"<br/>
<br/>
"The Hispanic guy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right. That was his girlfriend, Trina, with him." Marc looks around again, and a sly grin goes up the side of his face. "His official girlfriend, but he's got action on the side." He leans in close. "Lots of action, then, with Trina and some others, if you wanna larp there." He leans back again. "He's smart, too, taking some hardcore computer engineering classes and shit like that."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm more interested in the girls," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"I get that, I'm just tellin' ya." Something on the other side of the library catches Marc's attention, and he shows you the back of his head as he stares off at it. "He's also on the soccer team. Marc's right-hand man. They hang out lots." He raises his hand and waves. You crane your neck, and spot Mindy McAdams coming over. "But not like best friends," he continues. "So, you could have action on the field and off it while larping as him. Learn how to cuss hard in Spanish, too," he adds. "Hey, favorite girl," he calls out when Mindy's only a few feet from him. "Why aren't you at lunch?"<br/>
<br/>
Mindy stands directly behind him, so that he has to lean his head back to look up at her. He raises his hands, and she clasps both of them while smiling down at him. "Had to stop in here first. Why aren't <i>you</i> at lunch?" She glances quizzically at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Already had it," Marc says. He isn't just holding her hands, he's playing with them, tickling them, stroking them with long fingers. "Last period."<br/>
<br/>
"So why aren't you in class? This isn't your study hall."<br/>
<br/>
"How do you know? And today it is."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, si it's like that. Does Hannah know you're playing hooky?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, and she doesn't care. When are you gonna start spending Saturday nights with us again? I miss my favorite girl."<br/>
<br/>
Mindy smiles tightly. "I thought Hannah was your favorite girl."<br/>
<br/>
"Hannah's my girlfriend. You're everyone's favorite girl, favorite girl." He grins, and disengages one hand long enough to brush her jaw lightly. "We miss you."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, thanks," she says. "Talk to Kelsey, if you want me out there on Saturday nights again."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe we can do some Saturday nights without Kelsey. Double date. You, me, Hannah -- " He shoots you a fast, hard glance, then looks back up at her. "Name your guy. Any guy. Your dream guy."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll talk to you about it later," she says. Then with only a brief glance back at you and Marc, she goes out the library door.<br/>
<br/>
You raise an eyebrow. "Favorite girl?"<br/>
<br/>
Marc drops the chair to the floor, and after another look around leans forward to rest his arms on the desk. "That's what Marc called her before he met Hannah," he says quietly. "Back when they were, you know, fooling around. Hard."<br/>
<br/>
Your mouth goes dry. "Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah." He stares at the door she went out. "I shouldn't tease her like that, but she stopped coming to these Saturday night parties that Kelsey throws, and I guess I just wanted to make her feel, you know -- " He shrugs. "Like we miss her. Anyway -- " He turns sharply on you. "Come to think of it, that's a good reason to larp as Anthony."<br/>
<br/>
That would be the second name on the list he shot you: Anthony Kirk. He's one of the AP assholes, the ones that hang around with Martin Gardinhire, Brent Pruitt, Kelsey Blankenship, Amanda Ferguson ... and Geoff Mansfield and Lisa Yarborough. You stiffen at this reminder of your old girlfriend and the supercilious shit who took her from you.<br/>
<br/>
But Braydon is talking. "You heard what she said about talking to Kelsey. I bet she had something to do with Mindy not coming to her parties anymore. I don't know if you want to be nice to Mindy, but Anthony's exactly the one to tell Kelsey to step off her high horse." He bites down a laugh by biting down on the tip of his tongue. "Which I bet would be a lot of fun to do."<br/>
<br/>
You don't know Anthony Kirk that well. He's even worse than Mansfield or Pruitt or Blankenship for ignoring you. As best you can recall, he's only talked to you once, in the student parking lot early in your junior year, when he asked if "that" -- he'd pointed -- was your truck, and seemed barely interested in your answer.<br/>
<br/>
"Assume I don't want to be nice to Mindy," you reply. "Why Anthony Kirk?"<br/>
<br/>
Marc shrugs. "We hang out together. He and Marc play golf every Sunday at the country club. His family has a membership there. So we can hang out, study together. That's mostly what I was thinking of when I picked him and the other guys. The potential for hanging out, larping together. Oh, also, you know we got -- " He leans in close to mutter. "We got masks of Geoff and Martin and Brent. Now we got Marc. If we get Anthony, we'd have a complete set of those guys."<br/>
<br/>
That does not exactly magnify the appeal, but you do linger over the choice anyway. Anthony Kirk is probably the only guy in Mansfield's group who could bully Geoff around.<br/>
<br/>
You're pulled back to the present by Marc's voice: "He doesn't get a lot of action, though, so there's that. Unless you want to get him some. But you wanted to know about the girls, and Marcos or Brownie would be a lot better choices there."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Brownie?</i> You frown for a moment, then realize he must mean Alec Brown, the third choice he offered. "Marc's friends with him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Marc's friends with anybody." He blinks, and gives you a quick, close look. "Marc could be friends with you, I think, if you just made an effort. Anyway," he continues, and leaves that very surprising assertion dangling, "he does stuff with Brownie sometimes. Throws a ball or a frisbee around, goes to parties, shit like that. Usually with Laurent or other guys from the wrestling squad, or some of the football players."<br/>
<br/>
That makes sense. You only know Alec Brown vaguely, but you associate him with Laurent Delacroix, the captain of the wrestling team. Like Laurent, he's a burly athlete with massive arms and legs and a fuzzy brown-blonde buzz cut. It's not a look or a group of friends anything like yours, which would make it a radical -- and probably fun -- place to larp.<br/>
<br/>
"There's no rush on deciding," Marc says after you've been silent a bit. "Only I'd have to set things up if you want to start larping this afternoon."<br/>
<br/>
There's a greater rush than that, though. You want to see Bethany before lunch is over.<br/>
<br/>
It sounds like this is going to be a week-long larp, so you'd better make it someplace that you think you're going to have fun. And your gut tells you that the most fun is going to be as --<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1133211121111122211121221111121111112211212231111121311133111122321323
author_id: seuzz
title: The Approach to Alec Brown
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Larping is supposed to be fun, and Anthony Kirk does not sound like a role-play that would be fun. So you're about to answer, "I'll go with that Marcos guy," when you realize that will put you on the soccer team.<br/>
<br/>
Lester Pozniak -- one of your personal bullies -- is on the soccer team. He's the goalie, in fact. You doubt that Marcos Whoever has to worry about Lester -- from the way he was acting at the Warehouse on Friday night, he could probably pop Lester in the face without blinking -- but the thought of being close to Lester even for a little while makes Marcos less appealing than the final candidate.<br/>
<br/>
"Alec Brown," you tell Marc.<br/>
<br/>
"Nice," he grins. "You'll like Brownie, I bet." He pulls his cell phone from his pocket. "I don't know how hard it'll be to set something up with him," he mumbles, "but I'll see if I can -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Do you need me here for that," you ask. "I want to hang out with Bethany some before lunch is over."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh, sure." He does a little double take at you. "How are things going there?"<br/>
<br/>
Something in the way he asks makes you think that he knows all about the shit that Jordana is circulating. "Okay, I guess," you reply as coolly as you can. "I just want to -- "<br/>
<br/>
But he's not listening. "Sure. I'll shoot you a text when it's all set up. Oh, one more -- Do we have the, uh, things ready?" He waves his open hand over his face. <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I made a new one last. I didn't bring it to school, though."<br/>
<br/>
"Is it somewhere I can get to it? What about the one that's, uh, yours?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Christ.</i> You hope you're interpreting him correctly. "It's all back in the usual place. All of it, sitting out on a table. You just need a key to the door."<br/>
<br/>
"Cool." He grins. "I'll stop by Braydon's locker, get a key from him."<br/>
<br/>
You shrug, grateful that he seems so willing to do all the work.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your heart is beating fast as you gallop off toward the natatorium, but it falls hard when you see Andrea lounging against it by herself. She's wearing sunglasses today as she turns her face toward the sky, and she doesn't react until you're atop her. You hesitate for a few seconds as she says nothing. She must have her eyes closed.<br/>
<br/>
Then as you open your mouth, Andrea says, "She went off with Jordana."<br/>
<br/>
That gives you another hard jolt. "Oh. Uh, is she coming back?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. Maybe. Maybe not. Anywhere in between." Except for her jaw and mouth, her head has moved not a jot.<br/>
<br/>
You suck in a cheek and chew on it, then look around with a squint. If only you caught sight of Bethany coming back. But she's nowhere in sight.<br/>
<br/>
You look back down at Andrea. She doesn't seem at all interested in having you join her.<br/>
<br/>
For a moment you're on the verge of dropping next to her anyway, and talking to her just for the hell of it.<br/>
<br/>
But what's the point? It's all of a piece with the Jordana bullshit. Andrea's just another one of Bethany's friends who's getting in the way. It renews your determination -- <br/>
<br/>
And only now does it consciously occur to you that you've made that determination.<br/>
<br/>
-- to leave the whole Bethany business for a golem to worry about. <br/>
<br/>
After all, it will do exactly the job that you would. If you come back and find yourself on good ground with Bethany and her friends, then you can collect the reward without the work and anxiety. If the golem fucks things up, then you would have fucked them up anyway.<br/>
<br/>
You trudge off toward a distant corner of the campus, to eat lunch and to wonder how much pussy Alec Brown is getting, and from who.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You try really hard to control your impatience as the school day crawls to its conclusion. Your seventh-period study hall passes glacially, even as you try to concentrate on polishing off your sixth-period math homework, and during Astronomy Mr. Cash has to tell you to stop fidgeting.<br/>
<br/>
After that, you slump down in your chair and try to figure out why you're so eager for the change. After all, this won't be the first time you've larped as someone else. It won't be your first time larping for a couple of days at a time, either, at home and at school, with only yourself and one other person knowing you aren't who you appear to be.<br/>
<br/>
You finally decide that it must the enormity of the change. Alec Brown is a jock who moves totally outside -- and above -- your social circle, and you're pretty sure he has a personality completely different from your own. Even when larping as Braydon or Christian or Darrell you felt yourself not far from your own experience. <br/>
<br/>
There's also -- though you flinch from the fact -- the gross immorality of what you're planning to do. Even when you larped as Christian without his permission, you were still playing a game that other people knew about, and you had their general permission. This time you're stealing someone else's life -- for a little while at least -- without their even knowing of it.<br/>
<br/>
Why, if you like the experience of being Alec Brown, you could go on forever as him, if you wanted to. Little prickles run all over your skin and scalp as you imagine that possibility. Not because you want to -- you have no idea if Brown's life is that great -- but because of the seeming promise it gives of an infinite and open-ended escape from your own circumscribed life.<br/>
<br/>
Lost in these reveries, you are startled when the final bell rings.<br/>
<br/>
And then you plunge right back into antsy anticipation. A quick text to Marc is answered with a brusque <i>working on it,</i> and after pacing impatiently about the school campus a couple of times, you hop into your truck to drive around town while nervously drumming your fingers on the roof of the cab. Around four-fifteen you get a note from Marc, but it's anti-climactic in a way that makes you bark once out loud with frustration: <i>5:30, be ready.</i><br/>
<br/>
An hour and fifteen minutes to wait. Well, there's nothing to do then but go home and try to finish your schoolwork.<br/>
<br/>
You're not done with it when five o'clock comes, but you've had your fill of it, and run downstairs to tell your mom that you have to head out to talk to someone. She tells you to be back by six; you tell her you'll try, but that it's an academic thing and you can't be sure you'll make it. Marc has sent you Brown's house and street number, and you drive out to that part of the city and circle impatiently, waiting for a signal.<br/>
<br/>
The first signal comes at 5:25, but it's only from Keith, asking what's up. You reply that you're busy, but you'll text him at 6:00.<br/>
<br/>
Second signal comes a few minutes later: Marc, telling you to get your ass over to Alec's.<br/>
<br/>
You're only a few blocks away, with no street lights or stop signs between, and jerk to a hard stop in front of the target's house only a minute later.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Alec Brown's family lives in the southeast part of town, in a residential neighborhood not far from where your dad works, actually, and only a few blocks from where your aunt and uncle live. It's a nice part of town, but the house is just off the old highway, where things are cheapish and old and just a little shabby. It's two squat stories on a small lot, painted an ugly green, with an attached garage. An SUV overloaded with bike racks and other stuff for holding gear is parked in the two-car driveway. You slide to a stop behind a sedan that you guess is Marc Garner's, and run up a walk to the front door.<br/>
<br/>
The bell is answered by meaty guy who looks so much like Alec Brown -- fuzzy buzz cut, deep-set eyes under a Neanderthal brow -- that you almost greet him by that name. Before you can speak, though, you hear a clear voice calling, "Hey Eric, that's for us!"<br/>
<br/>
"What," says the guy over his shoulder. His voice rumbles like a rockslide. "Did Amazon send you pussies a new fuck buddy?"<br/>
<br/>
Marc bursts into sight behind him. "Hey Will," he says breathlessly. "Come on in." He lays a hand on the meaty guy's shoulder --<br/>
<br/>
And if he's trying to push him away, it must be like pushing a diesel locomotive. Only when the meaty guy rolls his eyes and steps aside does a passage open for you to squeeze through.<br/>
<br/>
There's a sunken living room in front of you, and stairs to your left. Marc leads you at a trot up those. "How'd you get here so fast?" he murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
"I was driving up and down Twentieth, waiting for a call."<br/>
<br/>
"Smart." He raps on a closed bedroom door, then winks at you as he opens it. "Undressed and laid out for you," he says as he pulls you in. You've just time to notice something large and brown sprawled on the bed before Marc pushes you toward it. "I'll stand outside, distract people, while you take care of things in here. Mask is still copying him, and your mask is on the dresser." He points. "Once it's done, pop yours onto him, give him your clothes, and get rid of him. Then -- "<br/>
<br/>
"I get it," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't forget to seal up his mask before you put it on."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, I know!"<br/>
<br/>
But he still hesitates, hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he looks around with a distracted air. "Okay, I guess that's -- "<br/>
<br/>
"If you're gonna stand guard, Braydon, go stand guard."<br/>
<br/>
He starts a little at the use of his real name, then grins and backs out of the room.<br/>
<br/>
Leaving you alone with the naked form of Alec Brown sprawled on a double bed.</span></div></div>


path: 11332111211111222111212211111211111122112122311111213111331111223213231
author_id: seuzz
title: Cocoon and Metamorphosis
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You knew Alec Brown was a big guy -- a little taller than you, and certainly broader -- but something about the way he's splayed out on the bed really brings it home. <br/>
<br/>
His last name fits his coloration, for he's tan all over. Even about the crotch -- which you take in but dodge looking directly at -- he's got some color, though not as much as he has elsewhere. His stomach is trim, his chest broad and deep. His arms and shoulders, though relaxed, are hefty. The impression of manly manliness is amplified by the rug of hair that spreads across his chest, and the glinting fur on his forearms and calves.<br/>
<br/>
You glance around the room. It's cramped but tidy. The bed is made, and the schoolbooks stacked neatly on a desk in the corner. There's a small bookcase beside it, and you glance at the titles. They're a mix of science, history and math, mostly. But along the bottom are a row of books whose covers -- men aiming guns, men running with guns, men with guns running away from explosions, men with guns running away from exploding airplanes -- and titles -- <i>The Dragon's Tear, A Mercy Betrayed, Wired Red, Predator's Run</i> -- that tell you they're techno-military espionage action thrillers of the type your own dad likes.<br/>
<br/>
There's a dresser, and you open the drawers softly to snoop through them. Socks, rolled up into balls; folded jeans and t-shirts; jockstraps and cups --<br/>
<br/>
Whoa. You wince when you think that you never needed any of the latter.<br/>
<br/>
There are shelves along the one free wall, stacked with trophies and ribbons and medals. Most of the trophies are gold, most of the ribbons blue. Looking closely, you notice that none are for "participation."<br/>
<br/>
Check that. There is one participation ribbon. It's pinned to a dartboard, and is nicely perforated. <br/>
<br/>
You glance back at Brown, and at the row of techno-thrillers. Yeah, he seems like the type to have a low opinion of "participation" prizes.<br/>
<br/>
Your palms are sweaty by now, and it's not just from anticipation. There's genuine anxiety stirring your bowels. Yeah, you'll have his mental equipment to help with your impersonation. But larping is a physical exercise, and even behind Alec Brown's mind-band, <i>you</i> are going to have to be the one doing the stuff.<br/>
<br/>
But what stuff? That really causes the sweat to break out on your scalp. You are so far out of depth here that you don't even know what to expect -- or dread.<br/>
<br/>
You pace the room. Then, both as prep and because you've nothing else to do, you sit at the desk and take off your shoes and socks. Then your shirt. Then you put it back on -- what if someone got past Braydon and found you with your shirt off? But they'd be a lot more worried about the unconscious Alec Brown, so you take it off again. But hang on, what would it look like if you had your clothes off in a room with an unconscious, naked Alec Brown?<br/>
<br/>
You turn very red at <i>that</i> thought, and you slip your shirt back over you're head.<br/>
<br/>
You're finally saved from any more nonsense by a glow from Brown's face. The mask reappears and you grab it up and lay it aside. Then you snatch up your mask. As you turn, it flies from your fingers and hits Brown in the side. His forehead creases, and he gasps.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit!</i> Your fingers are stiff as sticks as you grab up the mask again and slap it onto him. You're not sure, but you think you saw his eyes open in the brief moment before his face was replaced with yours.<br/>
<br/>
"What the -- ?" Will Prescott gasps, and his eyes bulge.<br/>
<br/>
"Shh! Quiet!"<br/>
<br/>
"Hm hm hm hm hm hm <i>hm?</i>" he asks through tightly compressed lips.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be an idiot," you hiss. "Just keep your voice down."<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on?" he whispers.<br/>
<br/>
"We're in Alec Brown's bedroom."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" He sits up, and looks down at himself. "And why are we naked?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're not naked, only you are. Except I'm getting naked now and you're getting dressed." You hop up and down as you pull at your pants.<br/>
<br/>
"Kinky," he says. "What happens after that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm larping as Alec. You're going home as me."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. What day is it? And where's Alec?"<br/>
<br/>
"Alec's in here." You poke him in the chest. "And it's Monday. Look, I didn't have time to put any memories inside, uh, <i>you</i> -- "<br/>
<br/>
Now you see a flaw in your plan to send the golem out with Bethany. Your doppelganger has no idea how things stand with her, or about what you said to her on Sunday. "Look, just go home," you tell him. "Do the homework, be normal. But text Bethany, or call her, or something, when it's convenient, and fake your way through."<br/>
<br/>
He whitens. "Fake my way through what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Things. Nothing's changed, okay? Except you went up to see her at the mall and you talked some and you told her that you're kind of serious about her -- "<br/>
<br/>
"I did?" he yelps.<br/>
<br/>
"Shh! Yes, and you talked about maybe she could go shopping with you and pick you out some new clothes."<br/>
<br/>
"Wow, I'm such an idiot it surprises even me."<br/>
<br/>
You grab Alec's mask with a scowl. "Look, I'm going to put this on in a moment, and if you're still here when I wake up I'm going to flush you down the toilet. Also, today you went to have lunch with Bethany, but she went off with Jordana."<br/>
<br/>
"Is this about that Snapchat shit?"<br/>
<br/>
"I have no idea, so you don't either. Just remember what I told you and fake your way through."<br/>
<br/>
"No wonder you want to turn it over to me," he whimpers, and bends to pick up the clothes you've discarded. "You've fucked it all up for yourself."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Braydon had put a tub of sealant next to your mask, and you get Alec's mask sealed up fast -- but not before your golem has gone out the door and Braydon has glanced in at you. "Almost done," you tell him, and he closes the door with a nod.<br/>
<br/>
The thumping of your heart has beaten out a hollow place in your chest when you hop onto the bed. The name "Alec Jacob Brown" rises to meet you as you lift it toward your face. Darkness closes about you as it touches your skin, you feel yourself falling backward and spinning into an inky emptiness.<br/>
<br/>
The spinning doesn't go away, not completely when you open your eyes with a start. Black dots dance in front of your face, and you blink a couple of times and shake your head. You lay your hand across your chest to still your heart, which is going a mile a minute.<br/>
<br/>
Hair. Lots of hair lies under your palm. It feels both familiar and very strange. You grasp it, twine it through your fingers --<br/>
<br/>
And bolt upright, shaking all over. Vomit rises in the back of your throat. You curl up with your face in your hands, and push the vomit back down. You are trembling all over.<br/>
<br/>
You part your fingers enough to peer down. You're naked. You pull your legs together to sit Indian-style. Your strong, tawny calves are covered in fine brown hair. You drop your hands to grasp your ankles and bend forward to touch your forehead to the bed.<br/>
<br/>
The move -- one instilled into Alec Brown when he was in kindergarten -- instantly calms you. Your fragile ribcage turns to steel, and you raise your head.<br/>
<br/>
You know now where you are, who you are, and what has happened. Memories neatly separate and integrate and align into two piles. The ones belonging to Will Prescott's are yours. The ones belonging to Alec Jacob Brown -- "Brownie" to his friends -- well, those are yours too, but only as part of the disguise.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Disguise.</i> Your lips twitch. Cutter McLaughlin, hero of the "Cutter's Code" series of espionage thrillers, could only dream of something like these masks. You drag your clothes onto the bed and stand up. A quick stretch pulls a kink from your back, and you start to dress.<br/>
<br/>
It doesn't take long, as there are only four articles of clothing. First are the loose-fit jeans -- not even underwear, for Alec Brown usually goes commando -- which you cinch tight around your trim waist with a heavy belt. The denim is so broken in the jeansa re almost as soft as pajamas. Then the gray hoodie, with the sleeves pushed up to your elbows. Finally, the cheap canvas sneakers pulled onto bare feet. After plucking here and there to make things comfortable, you look at yourself in the mirror hanging inside the closet door.<br/>
<br/>
Alec Jacob "Brownie" Brown gazes back at you from deep-set hazel eyes under a strong brow. The cheekbones are strong too, as is the chin and jaw. A thick crop of blonde-brown hair has been buzzed back into a thick nap of twinkling fur maybe half an inch long. You run a muscular hand over it. Doesn't matter how you push it around, it springs back into position.<br/>
<br/>
You draw a deep breath and grunt as your cock stirs -- not at the sight of this body, but at the memory of the girls this body has had.<br/>
<br/>
A tap at the door brings you back to the present, and you glance at the clock as you turn around. Almost six o'clock -- you'll need to send Marc packing soon, as dinner will be ready in half an hour.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, I thought I heard you moving around," he says as he shuts the door behind him. "Everything up to code in there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. You don't really want to borrow those books, do you?" That was the excuse Marc had given for coming over. "Thought not." Your voice rumbles as deeply as Eric's. "Well, when're we gonna get together? Laurent and some of the guys would probably be up for some football or something after school tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm going out with Hannah tonight, for a study date," he counters. "You could come."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not gonna be the third guy on a date."<br/>
<br/>
"So find a study date of your own and bring her along."</span></div></div>


path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232132311
author_id: seuzz
title: The New Drill, Part 1
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"That's an idea," you say. "What's Jessica doing tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
Marc reacts as though you've slapped him. "You mean my sister?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who else do you think I'm talking about, dumbass?"<br/>
<br/>
He stammers. "I don't think I want -- "<br/>
<br/>
"You don't want what?" You advance on him with a hard grin. "You don't want your sister going on a date with me? How you gonna stop me?"<br/>
<br/>
Marc laughs nervously, raises his hands, but you slap them aside and push him back against the door.<br/>
<br/>
"I asked you a question, Garner. How you gonna stop me? How you gonna stop me from calling your sister and telling her I wanna go out with her?" You bat his hands away each time he raises them. "I can do whatever I want with her, man," you grin. "You don't get a say. Only she does, and I can be pretty fucking persuasive when I want to be, and with her maybe I want to be."<br/>
<br/>
"She won't want to go on a double date if it's me and Hannah along," Marc gasps. But he's grinning, too, and his eyes are shining.<br/>
<br/>
"Then I'll take her one place and you two can go somewhere else." You put your toes over his and push your chest into his. Nose to nose: "What the fuck do you say to that?"<br/>
<br/>
Marc is cherry red, and his jaw works silently. Then laughs. "Do whatever the fuck you think you can get away with, Will. It's not like she's <i>my</i> sister!"<br/>
<br/>
You back off. "Oh, in that case I don't care either. I'll call around, find somebody." You scratch an ear thoughtfully. "Let's put football on the schedule for tomorrow, though. It's been awhile. But now you need to -- What?" You've caught him looking at you with a strange expression.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing," he says, but his eyes gleam. "It's just -- Aigh!" He rubs his eyes deeply. "I really got a -- You really do get in character quick, man," he says brightly when he blinks his eyes open. "And me and Marc, I think we -- " He fumbles at the air with his hands. "We did kind of a hard merge for a moment, and it was like, I couldn't tell you weren't Brownie. It was like -- Like I couldn't even <i>conceive</i> it."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" You cock your head and study him.<br/>
<br/>
He looks like Marc Garner and sounds like him, but the topic of conversation is nothing like Marc would be talking about, so you can easily believe this is really Braydon Delp standing in front of you. "Well, whatever the deal is, me and masks just kind of snap together quick."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Marc drawls while holding your eye with a gleaming gaze. "Pretty amazing, that. But anyway -- "<br/>
<br/>
He's interrupted by a knock at the door, and he opens it.<br/>
<br/>
It's Alec's little brothers, the twelve-year-old twins. "The colonel wants you," they say in perfect, deadpan unison.<br/>
<br/>
In one smooth motion, you yank open the top dresser drawer, grab a sock-ball, and hurl it at them. They leap back and disappear with a quick laugh.<br/>
<br/>
"The colonel?" says Marc. "Your dad?"<br/>
<br/>
"No Dad's just a major. Mom's 'the colonel'."<br/>
<br/>
"She's in the army too?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. She just outranks him at home."<br/>
<br/>
"Ah." Marc's grin is a wide, white thing. "Well, I should go."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes you should. That was probably the dinner call. I'll see you out."<br/>
<br/>
Down the stairs like a pair of elephants you go, and with well wishes and back slaps you send him out the front door. Then it's through the dining room and into the kitchen, where Heather Brown is peering inside an oven.<br/>
<br/>
From deep behind the brain of her third child you can't help seeing her as a MILF: early forties, but trim and toned, except perhaps for a butt that's a little big for your own personal taste. Her long, straight brown hair is done up in a complex bun with a few strands hanging loose. "I need you to set the table, honey," she says in a clipped voice that carries just a trace of an Arkansas twang. "Then mash the potatoes, please. You can tell one of your brothers he can ice the glasses."<br/>
<br/>
It's a small kitchen: "I'll do it, there's only room for two of us in here anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"Then you can start on the glasses and put the twins onto the table."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes'm." The living room is empty when you look in it, so you go back to handle all the chores yourself, quickly and efficiently. It doesn't bother you -- Brownie, that is -- that you're stuck doing the chores alone, but it does offend you that your three brothers have vanished when they would be wanted.<br/>
<br/>
It offends your mother too. "Where's Eric and the twins?"<br/>
<br/>
"Upstairs, I think."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, call them down here so I can slap their hands." She turns to take care of a pot that's in danger of boiling over.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes'm." You return to the living room, which now has a Brown brother sprawled on it, holding his cell phone up in the air as he types at it. That would be Eric -- the one who answered the door when you arrived. He's Alec's college-sophomore brother.<br/>
<br/>
He ignores you as you approach. "Dinner's ready," you tell him as you snatch up a couch cushion. "Third-born son wants second-born's portion," you add as you jam it over his face.<br/>
<br/>
He waves his arms wildly for a few seconds before dropping them limply. His face is contorted and his tongue sticking out hideously when you toss the cushion aside. "Wuss," you snort.<br/>
<br/>
You're jerked downward, and something hard flies up, cracking the bridge of your nose. "Fuck!" you cry, and cover your face with your hands.<br/>
<br/>
"Alec Jacob!" your mother yells from the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
Eric tightens his grip on the front of your hoodie and pulls himself up. "Always make sure your man's a thousand percent dead," he says. You glare at him so hard you're sure that blood is mixing with the water filling your eyes. But he just pats the side of your hip. "Go take your medicine."<br/>
<br/>
"L-A-V-A! L-A-V-A!" Two voice chant in unison as Micah and Riker come marching down the stairs in perfect regimental step. Still clutching your nose with both hands, you pull down all your fingers except your middle ones, and lean toward Eric. He snickers at your double-bird, and pushes you back.<br/>
<br/>
You trot upstairs to the bathroom shared by four boys -- which is better than when it was shared by five when Carter, the oldest child, was still living at home. You lean into the mirror and gingerly touch your nose. It's very red at the top of the bridge, between your eyes, and it won't surprise you if you get some faint bruising around your peepers. But Eric was right. You were careless, and he took advantage of it to yank you down and head-butt you.<br/>
<br/>
Not a hard head-butt, it's true. Your nose isn't even bleeding. But Eric has knocked guys out with that maneuver, and he could've easily miscalculated --<br/>
<br/>
Oh, but what the fuck does it matter? All the Brown boys have scars, bruises and assorted traumatic injuries from things they've done to each other. <br/>
<br/>
So after dabbing your nose with a cold, wet washcloth, you settle to the real business that took you into the bathroom. There's a wafer of soap by the sink, and you pop it into your mouth like a retainer. You make one quick shudder at the taste, then put it behind you and exit the bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
You linger in the upstairs hallway before going down, though. There are twenty-two photographs lining the long hallway, eleven on each side. Family photographs, taken on Alec's mom's birthday, showing the growing family. Brownie knows them well, but you stop to stare at them with bemusement.<br/>
<br/>
It's like watching a time-lapse movie. The first photo shows the very young Victor Brown and his new wife, Heather. He's in fatigues, she's in a dress with big, padded shoulders. They're only twenty years old: fresh-faced, innocent, ambitious, and scared. Between them, in baby pajamas, is Carter Abraham Brown, wearing the pop-eyed stare of a baby who's just been badly startled.<br/>
<br/>
He's two years old in the second photo; three years old in the third; and as a grinning four-year-old he shares the fourth photo with a new infant: Eric Isaac. By the time Carter is six his grin has turned into a proud smile, and his soft locks have been shorn into the buzz cut he'll keep through the rest of the portraits. Meanwhile, the two-year-old Eric now shares his babbling grin with a new infant -- Alec Jacob.<br/>
<br/>
It's just those three for six years and six portraits, until Alec has had his own hair trimmed, when the three boys are joined by two infants, as like as peas: Micah Reuben and Riker Simeon. Then they go on the same conveyer belt that carried their older brothers. At six they stand at attention under their new haircuts, next to Alec, a proud twelve-year-old; Eric an impudent fourteen; and Carter a serious seventeen with the faintest trace of a moustache. All the boys are in dark, severe suits while their father has progressed from dress fatigues to a dress uniform and accumulated medals.<br/>
<br/>
The last photograph in the line shows the family as it is now. The ramrod twins with chins raised; Alec peering with dark confidence from under his strong brow; Eric gazing confidently into the future; Carter, in fatigues and beret, looking speculatively into the lens, as though idly contemplating the quickest way to kill the photographer.<br/>
<br/>
Which is almost certainly what he was thinking when the photo was taken.<br/>
<br/>
Downstairs, in the kitchen, your mom looks at you with a cocked eyebrow. You open your mouth and extend your tongue, showing the sliver of soap. She nods and punches five minutes onto the timer, then returns to seasoning the beans.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1133211121111122211121221111121111112211212231111121311133111122321323111
author_id: seuzz
title: The New Drill, Part 2
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's a somewhat richer meal than typical for the Brown family, but not unusual: roast beef, green beans, mashed potatoes, and dinner rolls. It's being kept warm in the oven until the head of the house can get home, and you help Eric and your mother clean up the kitchen in the meantime.<br/>
<br/>
But the five-minute timer hasn't dinged yet when Major Victor Brown comes in. He's looking tired but satisfied.<br/>
<br/>
The five Brown brothers are almost clones of the father, though here and there -- in the eye or hair color -- one can see bits of their mother. But when everyone has been bulked up, trained, planed and honed to the same military specifications as the father, it's hard to see much individuality beneath the standardized buzz cuts and buffed physiques. <br/>
<br/>
Your dad hands you a six-pack of beer. "Put that in the fridge for me, son," he says.<br/>
<br/>
You nod without meeting his eye. You've just opened the refrigerator when he says, "Something wrong with your servo, private?"<br/>
<br/>
You put the beer in the icebox, close it, and turn with bright attention toward him. You open your mouth and show the sliver of soap. "Ah," he says. "How long?"<br/>
<br/>
The timer goes off, and you extract the wafer. "I'll just return this upstairs, sir, if I may."<br/>
<br/>
"Do that, private," he says. "Then meet me in the workroom."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes sir." As you pass out the kitchen, the lurking twins swivel their heads to exchange identical, secret smiles.<br/>
<br/>
After depositing the soap in its dish, you return downstairs and step out the back door. The workshop is a small wooden building behind the garage, where your father does wood and metal work to relax. He's already inside, and tells you to shut the door as he takes down a leather strop. Then he closes the shutters, turns on an electric light, and hangs the strop back up. With hands behind his back he says, "Attention, private. Report."<br/>
<br/>
You bring your feet together, stand rigidly, and stare at a point just beyond his left ear. "Sir, I dropped an eff-bomb sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Only one?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, yes sir."<br/>
<br/>
"To what do you attribute this carelessness?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, I was startled and filled with self-recrimination, sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Really. On what account?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, on account that I failed to make one thousand percent certain that I had successfully smothered Eric Isaac Brown. After removing the pillow from his face, he caught me with a head butt. Sir."<br/>
<br/>
Your father's lips twitch faintly, and he steps up to examine the damage. "I see. Yes, I think you're going to get at least one shiner. And when he cracked you, that's when you dropped the eff-bomb?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, yes sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. Private, conjugate the eff-bomb for me."<br/>
<br/>
"Sir. I fuck, you fuck, he, she, it fucks. We fuck, you fuck, they fuck. I fucked, he fucked. I have fucked, he has fucked. I have been fucking, he has been fucking. I am going to have been fucked, he is going to have been fucked. I am going to have been fucking, he is going to have been fucking. I, he was going to have been fucked. I, he was going to have been fucking. I will fuck. I will have fucked. I will have been fucked. I will have been fucking." You pause, blink a couple of times. "Sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Give me seven compound words containing the eff-bomb."<br/>
<br/>
"Sir. Motherfucker, dumbfuck, assfuck, tittyfuck, flying fuck -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Flying fuck is not a compound word, private."<br/>
<br/>
"Sir. Fucktard, fuckhole, downfuck. Sir."<br/>
<br/>
Your dad's eyebrows go up. "'Downfuck'? Define."<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, to downfuck is to engage in sexual congress with someone below one's own sexual status. Sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh. That one's new to me. I hope I'm not raising a snob, by the way. Use these compound expressions in a single sentence."<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes widen. "Sir, I'll do my best." You lick your lips. "You motherfucking dumbfuck, what kind of assfucking fucktard would waste a downfucking tittyfuck on a fuckhole like her? Sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Impressive. Where do we use such expressions?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, never within earshot of the colonel, sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Where else?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, when goading superior adversaries into combat, sir."<br/>
<br/>
"And where else?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, anywhere we fucking please, so long as we employ them correctly and effectively. Sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Which of these rules did you violate?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, all three. Within earshot of the colonel, after a defeat by a superior force, and merely as an expostulation. Sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Very good." He turns to his work bench and opens a very large toolkit. He lifts out a tray, exposing a stack of ancient pornographic magazines. But this is only a blind, and he flicks a hidden clasp so that the top cover lifts, revealing itself to be the lid to a hidden recess. From that recess he takes a bottle of bourbon and two small glasses. "Private, I think you need to get the taste of that soap out of your mouth."<br/>
<br/>
"Sir, thank you, sir."<br/>
<br/>
"At ease, son." He fills both glasses with two fingers of the fine, aged alcohol and gives you one. You toast and put it back. It's smoky, and rolls down your throat like a burning fog. "It's been a long time since you erred. What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
"My mind was elsewhere, sir. A friend from school had been by, we'd been joshing around. It was like I was at school again."<br/>
<br/>
His brow lowers. "You break the rules at school?"<br/>
<br/>
You wince. "The colonel's trained us to shout 'peanut' when things like that happen, sir. But I can't yell that at school, not when someone catches me in the face the way the second-born did."<br/>
<br/>
He laughs dryly. "Alright. Permission granted to expostulate obscenely at school or with your friends when in sudden pain. Permission granted retroactively as well." He replaces the bottle, glasses, and trays. From a drawer he pulls out a small box and extracts two hard candy mints -- homemade by the major himself, and powerful enough to cover anything on the breath. "Now, how many stripes did I give you?"<br/>
<br/>
You pop a mint into your mouth and think. "Two, sir. One for using the obscenity, and one for being a fucking nuisance."<br/>
<br/>
He puts his arm around your shoulder, puts out the light. "Sounds about right to me," he says, and keeps you in a loose embrace all the way back to the house.<br/>
<br/>
Supper is set when you get inside, and your brothers are sitting at the table. "Wash up, honey," your mom tells your dad. "Guest bathroom, we're low on soap in here." After he's gone, she looks at you anxiously. "How many?"<br/>
<br/>
"Two."<br/>
<br/>
"That bastard," she snarls softly, and glares off after your dad. "You're old enough to know better than to do the one, and he sure as peanut is old enough to know better than to do the other."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's Eric's turn to ask the blessing over the meal, and then six pairs of hands dart at the food. There's little talk except of the "Pass the potatoes, please" and "Salt and pepper over here, if you don't mind" sort. Once their plates are full, the twins start a routine of synchronized eating -- cutting their meat in simultaneous strokes, sweeping the beef simultaneously into swirls of ketchup, lifting forks to their mouths in identical motions, and wiping their mouths in exact imitation of each other. So close are they, in fact, that you can't tell which one is leading and which one is following.<br/>
<br/>
Your father puts an end to their crap after only a minute, though. "Micah, Riker," he says. "Break formation." They fall away from each other after a small, shared snicker.<br/>
<br/>
The dishwasher broke a year ago and there was no money to repair it, and it has stayed unrepaired since, so a small assembly line forms to take care of the dishes. The twins bear the dinner remnants into the kitchen. Your dad packs up leftovers. Eric scrapes the plates into the trash. You wash and scrub them down in the sink. Your mother dries them and stacks them to the side. Then the twins move to the end and put them all away.<br/>
<br/>
Afterward, the family separates. The colonel and major retreat into a small study, her to resume writing her latest romance novel and him to distract her by rubbing her feet as he reads a book. Eric spreads out his college work over the kitchen table. The twins go upstairs, probably to practice their hive-mind routine some more. It is almost impossible to tell them apart, which is probably why they've taken the "one brain - two bodies" act totally overboard.<br/>
<br/>
That being said: Having been raised on something like a conveyor belt, each of the Brown brothers has reacted against following an identical path at the end. Oh, sure, there is one respect in which they have all turned out the same. Carter worshipped his father and made himself into a strapping athlete, and from the age of six onward carried himself like he was the youngest member of the Delta Force. And Eric, worshipping Carter, did much the same, just as Alec, worshipping both older brothers, did. (It's not clear yet that the twins, having each other for entertainment, will do likewise.) But academically each of them has run off in a different direction. Carter went straight from college into the army with the aim of entering one or another of the elite special forces. Eric reacted against that by plunging into military academics -- military history, technology, engineering, etc., and will probably get a teaching position after he's joined the military. As for Alec, well -- <br/>
<br/>
Alec's grades aren't bad but his classes are subpar, and he's looking at vocational training or joining the police force. <br/>
<br/>
And given the careless way he has of introducing his sausage to girls, there's a pretty good chance that he'll carry on at least one family tradition, and be a father by the time he's twenty.<br/>
<br/>
Which reminds you, as you settled down at the desk in his bedroom: Are you going to try going on a double-study-date with Marc and Hannah? And if so, who with?</span></div></div>


path: 11332111211111222111212211111211111122112122311111213111331111223213231111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Running Men
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You text Marc: <i>I'm staying in tonight. Talk to you tomorrow.</i><br/>
<br/>
The reply, an hour later, as you're struggling through calculus homework: <i>ok. whats it like there?<br/>
<br/>
Different but pretty cool,</i> you text back. <i>Glad I don't have to fake my way through it. I didn't know there were families like this.<br/>
<br/>
like what, and whats ur deal w/teh texting?<br/>
<br/>
Supreme HQ doesn't like sloppiness so we are kind of trained to text this way. That is one of the things that makes this place so different.<br/>
<br/>
:(<br/>
<br/>
You should come running with us tomorrow. 0500. Suffolk Wilderness.<br/>
<br/>
fuck no, that y u no come 2night?<br/>
<br/>
Partly. There is just a lot to get used to, so I don't want to overdo things.<br/>
<br/>
ok, Ill hav fun and u wont :p<br/>
<br/>
iIii</i><br/>
<br/>
There are other text messages throughout the evening from Brownie's many friends and acquaintances, but by ten-thirty you've shut everything off. Overlapping sets of brothers take turns brushing their teeth in the bathroom, then you change into flannel pajama bottoms and slip between the sheets. Brownie has been trained to put himself into a deep sleep whenever he wants, and with the prospect of an early day you spend only five minutes staring into the darkness toward the school day to come before closing your eyes and forcing yourself into unconsciousness.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You spring up at the alarm and take only a few seconds to shake the sleep from your head. The shower water is already running in the bathroom, so you just stick your head under the kitchen sink to wake yourself up fully before running back up to your bedroom to change into track pants, running shoes, and a sweatshirt. Your book and gym bags are already packed, and you sweep them onto your shoulder. Eric must have set his alarm early, because he's got the truck running when you dash out the front door. The twins are only fifteen seconds behind. They hop into the cab while you vault into the bed to huddle up for warmth.<br/>
<br/>
Half a mile from the entrance to Suffolk Wilderness, Eric swings into the almost-deserted parking lot of the Lazee-Nites Motel. He slows to only a few miles an hour, but he doesn't stop, so the dark figure waiting there has to run and leap onto the back bumper, and Eric roars out the lot and is picking up speed fast even as the hitchhiker is swinging into the bed beside you.<br/>
<br/>
It's Laurent Delacroix, Brownie's best friend and the captain of the Westside wrestling team. His face and hair and eyes are dark, so only his bright, white grin shows clearly in the dim morning light. You slap hands, exchange muffled <i>bros</i>, and curl up close to each other. In the bracing wind and morning chill, there's no shyness about sharing bodily warmth.<br/>
<br/>
It's five-thirty when you pull into the Suffolk parking lot, which is naturally deserted. You and Laurent leap to the ground, and curt greetings are exchanged as Eric and the twins pile out. A short walk takes you to a meadow, where you all silently stretch out and warm up for the cross-country run. Brownie (and Laurent too, for that matter) is fit enough for the track team, but he prefers to concentrate on wrestling and weightlifting. <br/>
<br/>
Then, when everything is limber, you all start to run.<br/>
<br/>
Dawn is only a gray smear on the horizon, but the trail is wide and smooth for most of the way. It carries you deep into the wilderness, over gently rolling rises and across smooth shoulders. For the first half mile you all take it fairly easy, for you don't want to hit the hard trails until there's more light. But as the limb of the sun peeps over the horizon your quintet quickens its pace as it approaches a fork in the trail.<br/>
<br/>
The new trail winds up into rougher country, and the ground is lost in shadows under the overhanging trees. You hang back as the trail narrows, letting Eric take the lead, followed by Laurent and the twins. Not until they are well ahead do you start pushing yourself.<br/>
<br/>
The trail runs up a hillside, and there are a couple of spots where it steepens into an incline like a staircase. It's not long before your legs are burning and your lungs seared with each breath you take. The air is cold but close under the foliage, and sweat prickles your hair and forehead. Halfway up the hillside, you slow just long enough while rounding a bend to break a switch off a tree, for you've caught sight of the twins. A hundred twisting yards later you're on their ankles.<br/>
<br/>
That's when you lash them in the ass with the switch. Riker yips, and pushes past Micah, who picks up the pace when you touch him a second time. "I want you little pukes catching Laurent before we hit top," you pant at them. They bow their heads and push on.<br/>
<br/>
You and Eric and Laurent take alternate days setting the pace for them this way, so today is one of your light days, as you just have to run hard enough to push them ahead of you.<br/>
<br/>
Six times you have to tap them before they get serious about staying out of reach. The sun is up when you break cover near the top of the rugged Mt. Suffolk -- the highest ground for twenty miles around, and catch sight of Laurent's shirt. You spring forward and touch Micah again across the thigh, and he fairly flies up the steep trail.<br/>
<br/>
Meter by meter the gap between the twins and Laurent closes. "Yo!" Your shout is a hoarse and ragged thing. "Don't let 'em catch up!" Laurent darts a red-faced look over his shoulder, and gathers his strength for a final push. "Run, maggots!" you yell at the twins.<br/>
<br/>
They don't make it, and Laurent has been pacing and puffing at the top of the hill for almost a full minute before you and the other two join him. The twins' faces are chalky as they gasp for breath. Your own legs and lugs are on fire as you force them to the ground for twenty push-ups as punishment.<br/>
<br/>
You don't rest long before going back down. The return jaunt is easier on the heart, but a lot harder on the legs, and it winds you almost as much as the jog up.<br/>
<br/>
The last leg is taken in a sequence of sprints and walks as you circle the hill the long way about to rejoin the main trail, and then it's back to merely a hard jog to the parking lot. The twins, apparently to make up the disgrace of the run up the hill, trample Laurent's heels all the way. A ration of Gatorade is shared around when you're back at the truck, and you all silently walk off the exhaustion and stretch out some more. Eric has the cab to himself on the drive back into town -- it's well past six-thirty -- as you and the other four sprawl in the back and enjoy the clean, cool air. "Good job," you tell the twins.<br/>
<br/>
On the return trip Eric swings back into the motel parking lot, and you and Laurent both spring out as he slows to only five miles an hour before gunning the black truck back out into the street. "Get yer math work done?" Laurent asks as he leads you over to his truck.<br/>
<br/>
"Mostly," you grunt as you sling your book and gym bags into the bed. "I couldn't get the last three." Brownie, to your disappointment, is no better at calculus than you are.<br/>
<br/>
"They were tricky," Laurent allows as you climb into the cab with him. "I'll show you how to do them at school." He punches the engine to life. "Oh, the fuck did Garner want with you yesterday?"<br/>
<br/>
"Wanted to borrow a book."<br/>
<br/>
"Which one?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. He came over, then changed his mind."<br/>
<br/>
"Flake."<br/>
<br/>
You glance at Laurent. His jet-black hair is longer than yours, though not by much, and he has dark brows and dark eyes and the dark coloration of a guy whose Iroquois blood flows from a pure-blood grandfather. Most of his personality flashes out of those eyes and in the wide, hard grin that, even at its friendliest, has a wolfish cast. He and Brownie have been best friends since sixth grade, when Major Brown was transferred to Fort Suffolk.<br/>
<br/>
"I told him we'd get some guys together for football this afternoon," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
"That's cool. You talk to anyone about it yet?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nah, I'll wait for practice." You put your feet up on the console, spreading yourself so your cock can unfurl. "He wanted me to go on a study date with him and Hannah last night."<br/>
<br/>
"No way!" Laurent's grin bursts out in a constellation of hard, white teeth. "What, he wanted you to keep her busy topside while he painted her garage?"<br/>
<br/>
"He wanted a double-study date. Who should I have taken?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why are you asking me? Who did you take?"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't, I had too much serious shit to do." You clamp a muscular paw around your shoulder. "But he's gonna ask me again, I can tell -- "<br/>
<br/>
"How can you tell?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. But if he does, who should I ask? I first thought about asking Jessica along 'cos, you know, she's in calculus with us."<br/>
<br/>
Laurent pounds the wheel. "Do it, man! Totally fucking do it! Don't even tell him what you're doing, just <i>bring</i> her!"<br/>
<br/>
"Nah, I wouldn't do that to him. I like him."<br/>
<br/>
"He's a fucking airhead, like his sisters. Don't get me wrong, I like him too."<br/>
<br/>
You grin. "But you like his sisters better."<br/>
<br/>
Laurent turns long enough to return that grin.<br/>
<br/>
You pound your knee. "I gotta get laid, man. By Sunday. I'm serious, I gotta fuck my brains out by then."<br/>
<br/>
"Why the deadline?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll turn into a pumpkin if I don't." You gaze out the window as Laurent turns into a 7-11 parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
"Try the swim team, you haven't dipped your wick there."<br/>
<br/>
And with those words, Laurent raises a terrible possibility.</span></div></div>


path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232132311112
author_id: seuzz
title: A Day That Starts Off Ordinary
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Inside the 7-11, you fetch two medium cups of bad java from the coffee station while Laurent picks up two packaged lemon pies and pops them in the microwave along with the four homemade egg-ham-potato breakfast burritos he brought along. You rendezvous at the cash register, pay for your stuff, and head back out for the long drive across town to the high school.<br/>
<br/>
The gym is open by the time you arrive -- a little after seven -- but you sit in Laurent's truck and wolf down your breakfast while talking about plans for the day. Then you go into the gym and -- ignoring the basketball squad warming up for their pre-class practice session -- swagger into the locker room.<br/>
<br/>
It strikes you hard: Brownie actually likes the stink of the changing area, and you ripple with extra-hard pleasure at the confidence you feel on entering it. You always hated gym, and the boys in it, and all the rituals associated with it. But you've nothing to hate or fear now. Not with this body.<br/>
<br/>
You strip down and shower with Laurent. Then it's into the day's clothes: broken-in jeans (commando-style again), a black t-shirt, and ball cap. As you look yourself over with the cell phone, it grieves you slightly to see how much more the cap suits Brownie's strong face and shorn head than the same kind of cap suits your own. On him it looks like a helmet. On you, it's just a thing floating helplessly atop a bad haircut.<br/>
<br/>
The basketball squad is doing laps around the gym as you and Laurent emerge. Steve Patterson seemingly makes a point of swinging close to you -- almost close enough to clip you -- as he flies past. But neither you nor Laurent say anything, not even to each other, as you exit the gym for the library.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The morning that follows is fairly typical for Alec "Brownie" Brown. In the library you and Laurent go over the calculus homework together, and he shows you where you went wrong on the first three problems. Then you go outside to lean against the building, where you're joined by Austin Mull -- another member of the wrestling squad -- and two of his friends, and you all shoot the shit in a lazy way until the first bell rings.<br/>
<br/>
First period is Brownie's English class -- a non-literary one focused on reading and writing essays. You drop into a chair behind Michael Hollister -- a cheerful blonde who has a YouTube channel -- and he swings around to pound a fist onto your desk.  You clasp it with yours, and on a count of three start to thumb-wrestle him. "Two out of three," he says when you win. "Three out of five," he says when you win again. "Four out of seven." But Mr. Montague calls class to order first.<br/>
<br/>
Second period is wrestling practice, overseen by Coach Gossett. But today is Tuesday, which is given over to working out on the weight deck, and since you and Laurent and Derek Balaban also have a weight conditioning class in the afternoon, he lets the three of you hang out in the gym classroom under the mezzanine as a kind of study hall. You've no schoolwork, though, so Derek unfurls a soft chess board and sets up the pieces. He's been a quiet and withdrawn guy since his freshman year, when his mom died, and Alec and Laurent have taken him under their wing, and playing chess with him even when they have no skill for it is one way of making him feel liked. He always wins, partly because he's good at it, and partly because you and Laurent openly debate which chess moves to make.<br/>
<br/>
"We're setting up a game of football after school," you tell Derek near the start of class. "You in?" He shrugs. "Don't make me beg." He smiles shyly at that, and agrees to come along. A little later, after turning the losing chess game over to the Laurent, you go up onto the deck to recruit some more players from the squad. Most are agreeable, except the ones, like Sean Mitchell, who are also on the football team.<br/>
<br/>
Third period is Spanish for Reading Knowledge, the bullshit language class that Brownie is taking to meet a requirement. It's a mix of all grades, and two tiny freshman girls -- Alexis and Taylor -- jump you as you come, squealing as they grab onto your biceps. You lift them a couple of inches into the air by pushing your hands up over your head. They're very cute, but the four year age difference is too much even for a guy as horny as Alec Brown.<br/>
<br/>
Fourth period is an actual study hall, which you take in an empty classroom in the agricultural annex with Tyler Purvis and a couple of his friends for company. They fold a piece of paper into a triangle and you play table-top football with it while talking about fantasy sports league stuff. You round up Tyler and his friend Ryan for the game after school.<br/>
<br/>
Then it's fifth period -- lunch. Alec normally follows Tyler directly into the cafeteria and eats with him. But today you tell him you've got other plans.<br/>
<br/>
You stop at your locker first. You're not nervous -- not much, not really. Still, you can hardly believe what you're about to do. It's your idea -- not Brownie's -- but it's his nerves, his stamina, his guts that carry you through.<br/>
<br/>
It's like riding a confident, powerful horse. You only have to tell your pretend-ego what you want, and he ripples into action.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Andrea is sitting by herself, leaning against the wall, when you emerge from the school. She is balancing a plastic container on her knees and eating from it. She certainly sees you coming, but she doesn't react even when you drop down into a crouch in front of her. "Hey, don't you get lonely eating out here by yourself?"<br/>
<br/>
"I usually have friends with me," she says. Her voice is quiet, but there's no detectable chill in it. She's wearing her sunglasses again, so her expression is inscrutable.<br/>
<br/>
"But they ditched you today? So how about you come inside and eat with me and a couple of the guys?"<br/>
<br/>
"No thanks. I like the quiet out here."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright. I'll leave you alone then. But what are you doing tonight? Around eight?"<br/>
<br/>
She's eating some kid of pasta-bean salad, and takes a moment to spoon some into her mouth, chew it slowly, and swallow it. "I don't know. Homework or reading."<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds exciting. Come hang out with me while you do it."<br/>
<br/>
"I'd rather stay in."<br/>
<br/>
"We can hang out at your place. I don't mind."<br/>
<br/>
She takes another slow bite. "Don't make me be rude to you," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Be anything you want. I'm telling you I want to spend the evening with you. Just the two of us, though."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe you want to. I don't."<br/>
<br/>
You suck back a small smile. "You think you won't like it? How come? How would you know? You got a thing against me? I told you, you can be rude," you add.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought I was."<br/>
<br/>
You laugh, once. "That was you being rude? You should hang out with me and my brothers if you want to learn how to be rude."<br/>
<br/>
"The answer is no," she says firmly.<br/>
<br/>
You prop your elbow on your knee and put your chin in your hand. "Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't have to explain myself to you."<br/>
<br/>
"You do if you want me to understand."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe I don't care if you understand."<br/>
<br/>
This is <i>awesome.</i> It never occurred to you that coming onto a hot girl -- even a hostile one -- could be so fun. "Then I'm just going to keep asking until I figure out why you're prejudiced against me," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not prejudiced," Andrea says, and her self-control is so amazing that her voice doesn't crack, waver, or even flicker. "I'm just not interested."<br/>
<br/>
"You know, if you want to end this conversation, you can just get up and walk away. I won't follow you."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to run away."<br/>
<br/>
Wow. The turn-on just gets more amazing. "Then I'm just going to keep trying to figure you out. I want to hang out with you. Just you and me, for a couple of hours."<br/>
<br/>
But now she sighs. "Doing what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Studying. Reading. If that's what you want. Talking and paying attention to each other, if you can stand it." You look her over, openly. "You're not scared of me, I can tell that much, and that's awesome. If you were scared of me, I'd back off. You want to tell me you're scared of me?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not scared of you," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"As I said. Then what's your problem with me?"<br/>
<br/>
"You bore me."<br/>
<br/>
And with that she almost shuts you down. You have to struggle to keep the anger out of your retort. <br/>
<br/>
"That's only because you <i>want</i> to be bored by me," you say. "I think I made a mistake," you press on when she opens her mouth. "I think you <i>are</i> scared of me. Maybe you don't even know it, but I think you are, and you're trying to invent an excuse so you don't have to admit it to yourself. Because why else would you tell a guy you've never even talked to or hung out with -- Why would you tell him he's boring? How could you <i>be</i> bored with him when you haven't even -- ?"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, I'll hang out with you tonight," Andrea says, and her voice finally cracks with exasperation. "Anything to get you to shut up."<br/>
<br/>
You grin. "Cool. Don't ask me to pick you up, though. This isn't a date. Let's just meet at Starbucks around eight."<br/>
<br/>
"Not a date?" Her voice drips with disbelief. "If you want to tell yourself that -- "<br/>
<br/>
"I'll let you decide what to call it." You spread your hands out, palm up, inviting her to take them, which of course she doesn't. "You lead, I'll follow. Okay, I got to go eat now," you say as you stand up. She actually lifts her chin to watch your face as you rise. "You scare me so much I probably won't be able to eat dinner tonight."</span></div></div>


path: 1133211121111122211121221111121111112211212231111121311133111122321323111121
author_id: seuzz
title: Two Very Different Kinds of Game
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The rest of the day passes in a distracted haze, for you're preoccupied with the prospect of the promised evening with Andrea. You're not even fazed when you walk into eighth period calculus class and slide into a seat behind Keith Tilley. It's easy enough to keep in character as Brownie, who is used to completely ignoring your friend.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, you find yourself listening in on Jenny Ashton and Jessica Garner, who are sitting in the next row over. Brownie likes Jenny -- he likes any girl with an attitude -- and for a few minutes you actually forget all about Andrea as you drink Jenny in with a smile. But gradually the content of her conversation barges to the forefront of your attention. "I guess there isn't a rule about bringing food in to school," she says. "I mean, they let us bring lunches, so I guess we can bring in cakes."<br/>
<br/>
Jessica looks distressed. "You shouldn't let it eat at you."<br/>
<br/>
"I know," Jenny says, and she twists a long strand of brown hair around her finger. "But if they're going to bring it in -- " She hisses. "You just know Chelsea's going to show it off in front of everyone."<br/>
<br/>
"You shouldn't let it eat at you," Jessica repeats, and bends over her open math book. "Anyway, they'll eat it up in that loft of theirs."<br/>
<br/>
You jump in when Jenny doesn't reply to that. "What's got you all stung?" you ask her.<br/>
<br/>
She wrinkles her nose. "Nothing. Chelsea. Chelsea and a cake." She turns around.<br/>
<br/>
You glance at Laurent, who has come in and is slouching behind you. He smirks and rolls his eyes. <br/>
<br/>
You turn to Jessica. "So what's got Jenny all stung?"<br/>
<br/>
Jessica hesitates, and before she can answer Jenny spins back around. "Nothing important. Chelsea's bringing in a cake to school to celebrate some bullshit anniversary with Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
"And Chelsea told you this?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I just heard about it."<br/>
<br/>
Keith amplifies without turning around. "She heard it from Carson and James at lunch, and she's been bitching about it ever since -- " He ducks as Jenny crumples a sheet of paper and hurls it at him.<br/>
<br/>
You turn back to Jenny, who glares between you and Tilley. "You shouldn't let it eat at you," you tell her. She snorts and wheels around again. You return Jessica's secret half smile with a broader one of your own.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't know why, but this news about Chelsea and a cake intrigues you, and when the final bell rings you go looking for Carson Ioeger at his locker. Maybe it's not because you're interested, maybe it's because you want to push up against Carson, to see what he's made of when dealing with a brawny alpha type.<br/>
<br/>
He's not hard to spot, not with that dirty bandana bobbing above the crowd. You slump against the locker next to his. "So what's the deal with Chelsea Cooper and this anniversary cake," you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
He looks over and his eyes go wide, but he shows no fear. "I dunno," he says. "I don't know nothing about -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Cut the bullshit, man, I'm not here to spoil anything. Tell you what, next time you're at the show I'll slip you a large popcorn for a small one." Alec works at the movie theater concession stand on weekends. "I just want to know what the deal is."<br/>
<br/>
"There is no deal," he says as he changes out books. "I just heard that Chelsea's bringing in an anniversary cake tomorrow to share with her pookie."<br/>
<br/>
You laugh at Chelsea's nickname for her Goliath boyfriend. "And what's the fuck room got to do with it?" That's the widespread name for the gym loft where the top athletes have their exclusive club.<br/>
<br/>
Now you have Carson's undivided attention, and he gives you a long and unwinking stare. "I don't know. I didn't say anything about the fuck room."<br/>
<br/>
"Someone did."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I don't know what they meant. Unless they meant that's where Chelsea and Gordon are going to share out that cake. Probably. Why are you so interested?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not. I'm just curious how <i>you</i> know about it. I don't ever see <i>you</i> hanging out with Chelsea and them."<br/>
<br/>
Carson still has that steady gaze turned on you. "Yeah, well, they talk loud."<br/>
<br/>
You laugh again, and clap him on the back. "I guess they do."<br/>
<br/>
You change out your own books at your locker, then saunter off to wait for Laurent next to the gym. In that time you idly turn over the pieces of that trivial gossip: Chelsea and Gordon, a cake, and the fuck room. It reminds you something, but you can't quite place it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's a set of soccer fields out by the university, and after you and Laurent stop by your house, where you lend him some shorts and change into a pair yourself, you drive out there to meet the other guys, including Marc, who you've kept apprised of plans all day by text. There's an odd number of guys that show up, so the teams are not evenly matched, but that's okay because it's a casual game.<br/>
<br/>
Well, it starts off as a casual game of touch football. But there's not one guy on the field who isn't hypercompetitive, and after only twenty minutes the extra man -- Lucas Castro -- has been pressed into the role of ref, and "touch tackles" don't count unless the tackled player's shoulders have touched the grass. By five o'clock you are blown, bruised, and bleeding out your left nostril as you glare and grin at Marc across the scrimmage line. When the snap comes you knock him sideways, wheel, rise in the air, and elbow Devin Haney before he can block Eli Anders' toss to you. But Laurent barrels out of nowhere as you spin and land, and you go down hard under his tackle.<br/>
<br/>
That's the last play of the game, as Austin says he has to go, and you admit that you also need to head home. You pull Marc with you as you lead the way over to the side of the field where cars have been parked and gear has been dropped. "Sorry I missed the double date yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
"That's fine. We had fun. We're doing it again tonight, if -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Not tonight. And you're not doing it at Starbucks, either, if you go out."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to fucking Starbucks," he snorts. "Why would I -- "<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong with Starbucks?"<br/>
<br/>
"Name one thing that <i>isn't</i> wrong with it."<br/>
<br/>
You give him a hard, sideways look. He's a cheerful snob. "Well, where <i>are</i> you going?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. Why? You wanna meet us?"<br/>
<br/>
"I want to avoid you." You glance over your shoulder at the guys who are following, but it doesn't look like they can hear. "I'm going out with Andrea tonight, and I just want it to be the -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Varnsworth?" he gasps.<br/>
<br/>
"Quiet. I talked her into it. Badgered her into it. Man, I was so freaking stoked while I was -- Anyway, I want it to just be the two of us."<br/>
<br/>
The look in his eye is envious and admiring, despite what he says next. "You just don't want anyone to see when she kicks you in the nads when you make your move."<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. But mostly I'm telling you this so I can brag."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." Marc punches you in the shoulder. "Toldja this would be an awesome place to larp."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Once home you take a fast shower to clean up, then help putting supper on the table. Over dinner, you ask if you can borrow either the SUV or the truck; when the major asks what for, you tell him you're meeting with someone for coffee and studying, and he agrees. But immediately after helping clean up, you get your first and third period homework done, then change into a nicer set of clothes. For Brownie, that means a tight, gray t-shirt, and underwear. You leave the cap behind as you head out.<br/>
<br/>
It's the Starbucks on Twentieth where you meet Andrea, and you're relieved that she's only five minutes late. She's changed into long jeans, a midriff that covers everything down to the top of her pants, and an open, striped blouse, so that only her hands and neck are visible. For Andrea, it's practically a chador, but you don't say anything, and only stand up as she approaches your table.<br/>
<br/>
That draws a curious look from her. "Where are you going?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going anywhere. My dad just taught me to stand up when a lady comes to join you."<br/>
<br/>
"I've never seen anyone do that," she sniffs.<br/>
<br/>
"You've never seen my dad. Do you want to get anything?"<br/>
<br/>
It's well after nightfall, so she's not wearing shades, but her hooded expression is is inscrutable. "Are you buying?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I told you, this isn't a date."<br/>
<br/>
"But you stood up for me."<br/>
<br/>
"That's a different thing. But I'll go order for you and bring it back, if you promise to reimburse."<br/>
<br/>
"I have to <i>promise?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you going to be this way all night long? Hostile, I mean?"<br/>
<br/>
Her brow lowers. "I'll just have a small decaf."<br/>
<br/>
You get one for her and one for yourself, and you also bring back a chocolate croissant, but she declines to help you eat it. "You have a special diet?" you ask. She shakes her head. "I do," you continue. "So don't act insulted that I asked you. I try to control my starches and grains, but I can step off a little."<br/>
<br/>
"I just don't like commercial foods."<br/>
<br/>
"You a vegan or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I just grew up eating homemade things. Nothing out of a box."<br/>
<br/>
"That's awesome. We couldn't afford that in my family. There's seven of us, and Kraft mac and cheese was an old standby."<br/>
<br/>
"Seven?" The number seems to impress her. "That's a lot."<br/>
<br/>
"It seems like more when it's five sharing a single bathroom. We're all guys, though, except my mom, obviously, so that makes it kind of easier, probably. Sure you don't want a bite?" You raise a forkful of the chocolate-stuffed croissant.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea shakes her head. "I like to know what I'm eating."<br/>
<br/>
Her words are like the match set to a fuse.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11332111211111222111212211111211111122112122311111213111331111223213231111211
author_id: seuzz
title: Pitching the Prank
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What do you think of Chelsea and Gordon?" you ask Andrea.<br/>
<br/>
Her reaction really brings home to you how coiled and controlled she is. Her face, every time you have dared look at her, is an inexpressive mask. And even now she barely reacts. Yet just in the slight narrowing of her eyes and the tiny puckering of her lips you can infer bottomless depths of loathing. "I don't think of Chelsea and Gordon," she says, "if I can help it."<br/>
<br/>
You snicker. "That's how I feel about Gordon. I'd be lying if I said I never think of Chelsea." A flicker of contempt crosses Andrea's face as you settle back in your seat. "I'm just being honest. You want me to lie?"<br/>
<br/>
Andrea clucks her tongue and looks away. You stare at her until the silence has grown awkward, when she finally looks up at you again. <br/>
<br/>
"How would you like to prank them?" you say. "I guess before I ask you that, I should ask how you feel about practical jokes."<br/>
<br/>
The lines around her eyes tighten. "I don't go in for them. And no one's ever tried one on me."<br/>
<br/>
"I bet they haven't. I wouldn't like to play one on you. But would you like to see one pulled off? A professional hit, I mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"A professional hit?" she echoes. "What does that mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"It means there's different kinds of pranks. You're probably thinking of the dumb ones," you continue. "Like putting salt in the sugar bowl. That's amateur, and it's not funny. But a professional hit is a thing of beauty."<br/>
<br/>
There's the tiniest glint in her eye that suggests she's intrigued, even as her lip curls. "Are you saying you're an expert?"<br/>
<br/>
You answer with a counter-question. "What do you know about my family? Nothing, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing except you've got -- What did you say? Four brothers?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, you <i>were</i> paying attention. Don't worry, there won't be a quiz. But my dad is stationed out at Fort Suffolk, and he raised us all like we were in the army." You rub your palm over your buzz cut. Andrea doesn't look impressed. "My brother Carter, he's twenty-five now, he's training for the Special Forces. Eric's in college, and he's a gearhead and an expert on Sun Tzu and things like that. My little brothers -- Well, the twins are like something out of a sci-fi movie, I won't creep you out by talking about <i>them.</i><br/>
<br/>
"But the point I'm driving at," you continue, "is that with me and Carter and Eric it's always been two against one. Sometimes it's me and Eric against Carter, sometimes me and Carter against Eric. Them against me. Or it's one of us going after the other two. For ten years we've been at it."<br/>
<br/>
"Doing pranks, you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hits," you correct her. You lean forward suddenly so that Andrea starts. "I'll say it again. Carter is going into the Special Forces, and Eric's a gearhead. So I'm not talking about dumb, amateur stuff. Salt in a sugar bowl? That kind of bullshit, you'd get taken out and beaten as a fucktard. If you want to know the kind of hits we do, let me tell you what Eric did to Carter on his seventeenth birthday."<br/>
<br/>
You describe the operation. Andrea's eyes are wide and her lips have parted with astonishment when you're done. "That's -- " she says, and breaks off.<br/>
<br/>
"Beautiful?" you suggest.<br/>
<br/>
"I was going to say it's really awful," she says. "But I see what you mean." She stares into the distance behind your left ear, as though peering back through time to watch the operation unfold.<br/>
<br/>
You settle back again, and play with the fork. "I heard that Chelsea is bringing a cake up to school tomorrow. An anniversary cake, or something like that, for her and Gordon to share."<br/>
<br/>
Andrea stares at you for several seconds before her jaw drops. "No," she says. "You're not planning to -- "<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not planning anything," you say. "Not yet." You scrape up the chocolate goop that has dripped out of the croissant, and suck it off the fork. "And I probably won't. Not unless you help me. It's a two-person job, you see."<br/>
<br/>
Andrea settles back in her own seat. Her eyes go distant again, this time with obvious pain. Anticipatory regret, you'd bet. A faint flush rises up her neck. "I couldn't."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I won't," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
The pain in her eyes intensifies. "Why not?" Her voice is always soft, but now it's an anguished whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"Because I want you in on it. It just occurred to me, right now, while we were talking. That makes it a special thing between us."<br/>
<br/>
She is like a statue, she is so still at those words. "There's nothing between us."<br/>
<br/>
"There won't be, if you don't help me, because I won't do it."<br/>
<br/>
"You shouldn't."<br/>
<br/>
"Should and shouldn't don't have anything to do with it, not with this kind of a hit. Either you do it because it can be done, or you leave it behind and never think of it again. And I'll forget it, I'll never think of it again," you add, "if you tell me you won't do it with me. Will <i>you</i> be able to forget it?"<br/>
<br/>
She hesitates, but she's honest. "I don't think I could forget it. It's too -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Too really, really awful?"<br/>
<br/>
"Too beautiful," she says. "And awful."<br/>
<br/>
You're certain that means she is going to refuse, but she surprises you a moment later by sucking in a sharp breath. "Okay, I'll do it, I'll help," she says. But she lifts her chin and looks down at you. "But that doesn't mean there's anything special between us."<br/>
<br/>
You grin. "Sure there isn't," you tell her. "Sure there isn't."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So that's what kept bugging you about what Jenny and Carson had to say about Chelsea: It reminded you of the hit Eric put on Carter for his seventeenth birthday. Even if you didn't do anything about Chelsea and Gordon, you'd be relieved just to understand what was biting at you.<br/>
<br/>
You spend the next twenty minutes describing the tools you will need to pull off the hit, and how you will use them. You both lean forward while talking, your faces only inches apart, and she listens with rapt interest, and once or twice she even ducks her head to silently giggle to herself.<br/>
<br/>
But not once do you touch her, and you keep your feet under the seat so you won't even accidentally play footsie with her. You don't want to kill her mood, because you ardently want her with you tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
Only once does it look like you might spoil the fun, when you mention bringing Laurent along. "Why does he have to be there?" she asks, and a shadow crosses her brow.<br/>
<br/>
"As a safety," you reply. "He and I've done stuff like this before, he knows the moves. If you're new at this -- Well, it's better if it's done by experienced people, and the new guy watches. That's what we did with Laurent, me and Carter and Eric. So it's nothing to do with you."<br/>
<br/>
"You're saying you'd train me to do this stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
Your cock is already swollen, but it gets rock hard now as you put your chin in your hands and twinkle at her. "You are probably a natural-born killer at it."<br/>
<br/>
She lowers her head. It takes all your willpower to stop yourself from taking her hands in yours, and putting your lips to her knuckles.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Eric is in his room -- the spare room above the garage -- when you get home. You have to bang twice on the door before he opens it; from the ear bud dangling at his left shoulder blares a thrashing beat. "I need a bump key," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
"What's the job?" he asks as he gestures you in. He opens his top dresser drawer and feels around.<br/>
<br/>
"Practical hit on the captain of the basketball team."<br/>
<br/>
Eric looks up into the corner of the room. "Black?" He nods as he pulls out a key ring. "What kind of lock?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't know."<br/>
<br/>
Eric whips the ring back from your grasp. He opens his mouth, then reaches past you to shut the door. "What's your fucking malfunction, dogface?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't have time to recon. The window opened this evening and it closes tomorrow morning."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're going in half-assed."<br/>
<br/>
"Call it a surprise drill."<br/>
<br/>
His expression remains doubtful. "What's the scam?" His doubt deepens when you tell him. "You can come up with something better than that at short notice."<br/>
<br/>
"It's not about the prank, it's about the mark. Well, it is, but it's about grabbing this particular chance. Given the set-up, it's gotta be a cake gag, and the one you did to Carter is the obvious one. And it's tested and refined."<br/>
<br/>
"Better not to do it all," he grumbles. "There's something else behind it, isn't there?" His eyebrows rise and he puts the key ring behind his back.<br/>
<br/>
"Favor for a friend," you say. "A girl."<br/>
<br/>
His expression turns black. "That's the second-worst reason there is." But he sighs and slams the key ring into your hand. "But if you're enough of a dumbfuck to get caught with these, I will make you eat them after you've confessed everything to Supreme HQ." <br/>
<br/>
And you believe him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The bump keys are the first and most vital tool for the job. From a kitchen drawer you next extract a pair of restaurant chopsticks, the tube from inside a roll of paper towels, some aluminum foil, five rubber bands, and a roll of Scotch tape. From the bathroom you take a length of dental floss. The major's toolkit supplies a keyhole saw, a box cutter, and two bench knives; the recycling bin the garage supplies two complete newspapers. You pack it all in a canvas tool belt and stuff it your book bag. <br/>
<br/>
But you pause before calling Laurent to tell him of tomorrow's scheme, for you think that maybe you should call Braydon instead. You're supposed to be larping with him anyway. And surely he -- especially with Marc's brain -- is good enough to pull off a hit, and this one isn't even that complicated.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232132311112111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Cake Gag
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Braydon has already texted you, asking how the date with Andrea went, but you just shoot back a short reply: <i>Great. Tell you about it tomorrow.</i><br/>
<br/>
That's because Brownie's instincts tell you to go with Laurent, and your own instincts tell you to go with Brownie's instincts. You already told Andrea that you need a pro like Laurent along, and the point of the hit is to impress Andrea, not to larp with Braydon. Besides, you can find something else to do with him later.<br/>
<br/>
So you call Laurent. He chortles when you tell him about your date with Andrea, and he laughs out loud and agrees to help when you tell him what you want to do tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Before school you and Laurent stop by Coach Gosset's office and explain that you'll be late to wrestling practice second period. He's not happy to have the captain of the squad tell him such a thing, but he only grumbles before accepting. Then you and Laurent -- who planned the operation out before school -- stash the tool belt in a gym locker and skip first period in the library. You'd hang out in the gym, but Chelsea and the other cheerleaders practice that period, and you can't afford to be spotted.<br/>
<br/>
Five minutes before the bell rings -- when the cheerleaders will be changing -- you jog back to the locker room. Neither Chelsea nor any of her spies are around to see as you and Laurent dash up the staircase to the landing outside the loft. Andrea is waiting there.<br/>
<br/>
You've already got Eric's key ring out, and after examining the lock on the loft door, you find the equivalent bump key on the ring. Andrea watches closely as you slip it into the lock, and pull it back so the final pin doesn't engage. Laurent hands you a hairbrush. It takes only three sharp blows before the key turns in the lock. "Shit, they might as well not lock it if they're gonna make it this easy," you snort. Laurent guffaws.<br/>
<br/>
Inside, you twist the lock closed and look around. The loft is about what you would have expected: Low wooden beams hold up a roof that slopes down to a long row of windows looking out over the student parking lot. Most of the space is filled with wooden crates and discarded equipment, including pommel horses and mats. Some of the mats are still in use, though: a couple of them are spread out in an open space in the middle of the loft next to a dorm-size refrigerator. A musty, salty smell -- easy to identify -- pervades the room. "Oh, Christ," Laurent gasps. "It stinks like Patterson's cum in here."<br/>
<br/>
<i>That's what we should fill the cake with,</i> you almost say, but you catch the wince on Andrea's face, and refrain. Instead you dive at the refrigerator. The door holds a couple of cans of beer, but the inside is taken up with only one item: a bakery box. You draw it out and set it on the refrigerator.<br/>
<br/>
Then it's to work. You have the tool belt around you, and from a pocket you draw the newspapers. "Take these apart and crumple each sheet into a ball," you tell Andrea. "Tight, like this." You demonstrate, to show her how tight you want each one.<br/>
<br/>
"How many?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"All of them." You hand Laurent a box cutter. "We want enough, and we can throw away any extras." While Andrea starts crumpling up newsprint, Laurent slices through the tape holding the box lid down, then carefully scrapes off the broken pieces of tape and sticks them to his jeans. Then he lifts the lid.<br/>
<br/>
It's a white cake, round and crowned all about with laces of red frosting. Chelsea's and Gordon's names are written in frosting across the top. Laurent guffaws again.<br/>
<br/>
It's set on a piece of cardboard, and after you've got that tray and the cake lifted out Laurent sets the box on the floor so you can set the cake on the refrigerator. From the tool belt you take out two bench knives -- rectangles of gleaming steel with wooden handles running along their tops -- and hand them to Laurent. He slides the knives between the cake and cardboard from opposites sides, lifts the cake slightly, and pulls it over so that half of it hangs over the edge of the refrigerator.<br/>
<br/>
"You watching this?" you ask Andrea. She nods. "Now watch the master at work," you grin, and drop to the floor to lay on your back, looking up at the bottom of the cake as Laurent supports it.<br/>
<br/>
You take out the keyhole saw -- a thing like a long, narrow metal file with a wooden handle at the end, and lay it alongside the cake so that its tip is even with the top of the cake. Then you pull it back down about half an inch, and with a black marker you mark the side of the saw where it is even with the bottom of the cake. Then you poke the saw up into the cake about half an inch from the side, and carefully push it up until the black mark is just even with the cake's bottom. Then you begin cutting all around the inside the circumference of the cake, half an inch in. All the time you are careful not to push the black mark up inside the cake. In this way you are certain that the tip of the saw is not breaking through the top of the cake.<br/>
<br/>
You press the fingers of your free hand to the bottom of the cake as you work, and Laurent rotates the cake by using the bench knives, until you have cut all the way around it. When you lower your free hand, the bottom of the cake comes away: it's a two-layer cake, and with the sides sawed away, the frosting between the layers isn't enough to hold the bottom layer to the top of the cake. "Stage one complete," you announce, and lay the cake to the side on the gym mat. "You done with the newspapers," you ask Andrea. "Then sit down here and give me a hand."<br/>
<br/>
"So you need a third person," she says as she sits beside you.<br/>
<br/>
"No, but I like having you nearby. Dig down in my tool belt. There's a cardboard tube in there. Yeah, that's it." You bite your lip and fight down the erection as she digs inside the canvas belt at your crotch and draws it out. One end is covered with some aluminum foil held down with rubber bands. "Okay, put the covered end up inside the cake and push it against the top. Not too hard, we just want to keep the top of the cake from collapsing into the hollow. That's good." Her fragrant forearm is just inches from your nose. "Now's the tricky part." You feel down in the tool belt for the chopsticks.<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't need me to go digging down in there," Andrea says. Her tone is reproachful, but there's a smile on her face.<br/>
<br/>
"No, but I liked it that you did," you retort. "You can slap me for being a pig when we're done here."<br/>
<br/>
"Can you guys save the flirting till we're done?" Laurent says.<br/>
<br/>
You prepared the chopsticks last night by tying a length of dental floss between their narrow tips and using cement to bind it tightly in place. The floss is wound around one of the sticks, and, as with the saw, you lay them against the side of the cake and mark a spot. Then you poke both chopsticks into the cut you made near the cake's circumference. Then you separate the sticks, unwinding the floss. As you move one stick around the circumference, you saw lightly back and forth with the floss, cutting the cake across the top about half an inch under the top of the cake. When the chopsticks are on opposite sides of the cake, you have cut halfway through the cake, and you quicken your pace as you wind up the floss by moving the chopsticks together again on the other side. The edges of the cake droop, but the tube that Andrea holds keeps the top layer from breaking apart and falling as you finishing sawing it loose. After discarding the chopsticks, you tell her to carefully lower the tube.<br/>
<br/>
"How's the surface holding up?" you ask Laurent.<br/>
<br/>
"It's buckling," he calls.<br/>
<br/>
"Push the tube back up," you order Andrea. "Can someone hand me the newspapers?"<br/>
<br/>
Andrea reaches over with her free hand and shoves some of the wadded paper at you, and you push it up inside the cake around the tube. You have to be careful, so as not to blow out the edges of the now hollow cake, but once you've got most of it filled in with newspaper Andrea can extract the tube. You finish stuffing the hollowed out cake, and Laurent pushes the cake back onto its tray. He returns the tray to the box as you stand up, and the three of you gather about to admire your work.<br/>
<br/>
From above, the cake looks entirely untouched, though it is now just a thin shell filled with old newspapers. As you gather up your tools and trash, Andrea slips the stolen cake core into a large plastic Ziploc bag, and Laurent closes the box, seals it down with a fresh strip of tape, and returns it to the refrigerator.<br/>
<br/>
"It's too bad we won't be able to see their faces when they cut into it," Andrea says as you step out of the loft.<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't matter," you tell her as you use the bump key to lock the loft up again. "The point is to do it, not to see it." You turn on her with a smile.<br/>
<br/>
She gazes back steadily into your eyes. Her smile is a tiny thing curled up on her lips. She suddenly looks small, vulnerable, elfin. But hungry, too.<br/>
<br/>
And you're hungry. It seems like there will never be a better moment to give her a taste of what you want to give her.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1133211121111122211121221111121111112211212231111121311133111122321323111121111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Fly in the Frosting
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You don't give yourself time to second-guess yourself. You take Andrea lightly by the elbows and put your lips to hers. Your mouth is open, but just a tiny bit, just enough for you to taste her lips with the tip of your tongue -- and to let her know that your tongue is every so lightly in play.<br/>
<br/>
She is rigid, but you feel a shiver run through her.<br/>
<br/>
And her own lips, ever so subtly, work in response to yours.<br/>
<br/>
One, two, three. You give her three distinct nibbles, then pull back. There's no point in making a meal of it. You even let go of her arms. "Have lunch with me?"<br/>
<br/>
She pulls in one, deep draught of breath. "Okay."<br/>
<br/>
"Not by the natatorium, though."<br/>
<br/>
"Where?"<br/>
<br/>
"The Ag Annex. We'll find a corner -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Alright."<br/>
<br/>
"Bring the cake?"<br/>
<br/>
"You can have it, I don't like store-bought cakes."<br/>
<br/>
"We'll split it, somehow. Just keep it out of sight. We don't need Gordon and Chelsea thinking -- "<br/>
<br/>
"You're not scared of Gordon, are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. It's just not cool. You can let your brothers or your friends, guys like that, know what you did when you do it to them. Your enemies, you just let 'em suffer and wonder."<br/>
<br/>
Faint puzzlement shows in her eyes. "You're not the way I imagined you."<br/>
<br/>
"Let me keep surprising you."<br/>
<br/>
Laurent calls up from the bottom of the stairs. "We gotta get to class, bro."<br/>
<br/>
"Coming." You step aside to let Andrea go first, and run your fingertips lightly up her spine as you follow her down.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're useless during the rest of wrestling practice, and blind and deaf to the work during Spanish. During fourth period you go to the library and do what work you can, but you soon give up and text Marc, telling him to come find you. Ten minutes later, he drops into a chair across from you. "So," he says. "Andrea. Last night."<br/>
<br/>
You're suddenly at a loss for what to tell him. Oh sure, there's lots you could say, but the situation with her seems so delicate, and you're afraid that anything you said might get back to her and sound like typical jock boasting, no matter how careful you are.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, don't tell anyone about it," you say. "There's not much to tell, anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"She shot you down."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm having lunch with her next period," you retort before you can stop yourself.<br/>
<br/>
His eyebrows shoot up. "That doesn't sound like nothing."<br/>
<br/>
"I know, that's why I don't want you saying anything."<br/>
<br/>
"I can't promise."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes you can, and you motherfucking better. Get me?"<br/>
<br/>
He laughs, easily.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm serious as a fucking heart attack here, Delp." His eyebrows go up at the use of his real name. "I was only with her an hour, but the way she was looking at me when we left -- " You clench and unclench your fists. "If I don't fuck this up, and if you don't fuck it up for me, this might be, you know -- " You almost vibrate out of your seat. "Something long-term between us." You fix him with the clearest, hardest glare in Brownie's arsenal.<br/>
<br/>
His smile briefly fades, then bursts out again. "Between who? Andrea Varnsworth and Alec Brown?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," you say, and falter a little.<br/>
<br/>
"And what's long-term? Does it go past the end of the week?"<br/>
<br/>
A long, hard jolt rattles through your chest and guts. "I guess."<br/>
<br/>
That smile on his face turns pitying. "You know, Brownie's not gonna remember any of this when you -- "<br/>
<br/>
You grab him by the collar and draw him close. "Yeah, I'm larping right now, man, but I'm larping hard and true. This is Brownie's warning that if you fuck things up for me -- For him -- " You blink a couple of times. "If this were really him and you were fucking things up -- " <br/>
<br/>
You break. Marc's smile is now very impudent.<br/>
<br/>
"Fine," you snarl, and shove him back hard. "I've got a week to make this work and to enjoy it, so that's what I'm going to do. In character."<br/>
<br/>
"And then what?"<br/>
<br/>
When you don't reply, Marc grasps you in turn by the collar of the shirt and twists it in his fist. But instead of pulling you close, he pulls himself close to your obdurate face. "Don't you get it, Will? When we're done here, you have to put things back the way they were. Sure, have your fun. That's great, that's what makes this --<i>Ultimate Larping,</i>" he says, and he says it in a way that you can hear the capital letters. "But you can't change anything, right? You have to go back sometime, and what's Brownie gonna say next Monday when he wakes up and has Andrea as a G.F.?"<br/>
<br/>
"This is awesome?" you suggest.<br/>
<br/>
"You know what I mean. He's gonna be totally confused, and he'll fuck it up with her, and then <i>she's</i> gonna be miserable and -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Just let me have my fun."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Like I said, I got no problem with that." He lets go of you. "But you're gonna have to fuck things up with her at the end, so that she's not speaking to him by the start of next week. That's the only way you can have your fun <i>and</i> put things back. And if you don't think you can do that," he adds serenely as you glare at him, "maybe you should outsource the job of fucking things up to me."<br/>
<br/>
You wheel around so you don't have to look at his oh-so-punchable face. After a long time, when you don't say anything, he asks, "Are we done here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess so. For now. I might have something to say to you later."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't work yourself up, man," he sighs as he stands up. "It's for the best. You'll see, when you think about it. In the meantime, just think about the sweet action you can get if you play for short-time stakes instead."<br/>
<br/>
You look up at him coldly. "Who am I talking to? Garner or Delp?"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes narrow, and he glances around to make sure no one overheard you. "They both see it the same way," he says, and saunters out.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
When he's gone you go back to the Ag Annex and plop down at a corner of the building. You're terribly depressed by what he said, and you can't help replaying the conversation in your mind, even though it's like grinding a broken bottle into your chest. <br/>
<br/>
But there doesn't seem to be any way around it. Unless you take over the life of Alec Brown permanently, then at some point the real Brownie is going to have to return. And he's going to have to return to a world that looks and acts pretty much the same as when he left it, or else he's going to act like someone who got struck by a pretty serious case of amnesia. It sure wouldn't do him or Andrea any good if he emerged in a world where he and Andrea were an item, and he had no idea how he charmed her into that position or what he was doing to keep her there.<br/>
<br/>
But you -- and the psyche you're imitating -- are too drawn to the idea of being with her to give up on the possibility, especially if the only way to shut things down will hurt Andrea anyway.<br/>
<br/>
So you're in a pensive and withdrawn mood when Andrea comes up. "Hey," she says, and there's a shy, fawn-like quality to her voice. She stops when she gets a good look at your face. "You look like you're feeling guilty about something."<br/>
<br/>
You glance around. There are knots of students moving between the school and the portables and the annex, and a lot of them are glancing in your direction. "Let's move around the corner," you suggest, and get up. "More privacy."<br/>
<br/>
"What are you planning to do with me?" she says, and you wince at the implication.<br/>
<br/>
"Talk. That's all." You get up.<br/>
<br/>
She visibly stiffens. "About what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Anything." With a start, you realize she thinks you've got bad news or something. "Look," you say, and you bend toward her with your hands behind your back. "Everyone thinks you're a loner. You shoot guys down. You tried blasting me out of the sky yesterday. You don't want people getting the idea that you're <i>approachable,</i> do you?" You smile. "They'll start pestering you if they see you sitting around with me."<br/>
<br/>
Her face falls, but she suffers to follow you to a distant corner, where you won't be so obvious. She sinks to the ground with her back to the wall, while you lay on your side in front of her. Stiffly, from her bag she takes out a large Tupperware container and a spoon. "What have you got to eat?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Veggies," she says tonelessly. "Veggies and cheese in an Italian dressing, and I don't especially like you talking to me like that."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't like talking to you that way either," you retort. "I like the way we were talking last night, this morning." You put your hand on her knee -- she's in shorts -- and rub it. "Maybe I want privacy because -- " You groan and roll onto your back. "Maybe it's because I don't want my friends passing by and catcalling at me. 'Way to rock, Brownie. You go.' Shit like that. They would, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Would they?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck, yeah." You grind the heels of your hands into your eyes. "You said this morning I wasn't the way you imagined me. The thing is, I am. I'm <i>exactly</i> the way you imagine me. And everyone else knows it. And I don't -- " <br/>
<br/>
You freeze at the irony of what you -- a pretender to this identity -- just said. You cover it by clasping her calf and rubbing the side of your nose on her knee. "You got the wrong idea about me last night and this morning."<br/>
<br/>
She silent for a minute. "If I got the wrong idea about you," she says, "then I'm still getting the wrong idea about you. Because this still isn't the way I imagined you."<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11332111211111222111212211111211111122112122311111213111331111223213231111211112
author_id: seuzz
title: Where People Belong
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You stroke Andrea's leg for a long time before replying, and she doesn't say anything either.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, with a long sigh, you make a reply. "I don't know what the right way is to think about me. I know how <i>some</i> people should think about me. But I don't know how you should."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't understand what that means."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't either," you admit. "I guess it means -- Fuck!" You scramble to your feet, which clearly alarms her, as she draws her legs back, so you plop back down again. You look her directly in the face, which is drawn up into a watchful expression. "Who do you hang out with? Who are your friends?"<br/>
<br/>
She looks over your head. "Lots of different people. That's why I don't like you talking about me like I'm anti-social."<br/>
<br/>
"Like who? And where do you hang out with them, since I don't see you running around in a gang at school."<br/>
<br/>
"They come over to my place. Charles is always over there. Hartlein." She gives you a narrow look, but you don't respond. With a rattling sigh she unreels a list of names. "Adrian Semple. Andrew Harding, Christian Padilla." She closes her eyes, puts her head back against the wall. "Lee Reynolds, Eric Harlen, Dane Matthias." She opens her eyes. "I assume you meant the guys."<br/>
<br/>
"Everyone."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, well, in that case. Jelena Petrovic. Brianna Gould, Fatima Zahedi, Rebecca Sykes, Sienna Goldman, Katie Byrd. And that's the just the core group, the ones that are in and out every couple of days. I sometimes think about keeping a guest book, except I think I'd find half the names at school in it by the end of the month."<br/>
<br/>
"I've never been out there."<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"What about Laurent? Eli Anders? Austin Mull?" She shakes her head. "Michael Allen? Jeb Ash? Marc Garner? Catherine Muskov? Anyone from the football or basketball teams?"<br/>
<br/>
"Erik Carstairs showed up once," she says. "That's the closest to who you're talking about. He tried coming back a second time, but I talked him into thinking he shouldn't come back anymore."<br/>
<br/>
"Well there. You see? You don't have anyone like me or my friends out there. What would it look like if I showed up at your place, started hanging around with you?"<br/>
<br/>
"It might look like you were having fun," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"I'd look like a fucking tool, that's what I'd look like. I'd look totally out of place."<br/>
<br/>
"So what? Do you care?" That defensive shield of hers is going up again, and going up fast. Her chin has elevated, and a mica-like hardness is settling in her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure I'd care. I know what they'd be thinking if I was out there. That I'm just trying to get into your pants. Like Erik was. That's why you threw him out, right?"<br/>
<br/>
You hold her eye, and she blinks once, heavily.<br/>
<br/>
"That's right," you continue. "That's exactly what they'd think. They'd think I was undressing you, long and slowly, with my eyes. That I was fantasizing about what it would be like to take you back in your bedroom, or up to mine, or out to the river, or someplace like back here." You glance around. "Take you off alone where I could -- "<br/>
<br/>
What comes next surprises you, but you can't stop yourself.<br/>
<br/>
"Put my fingers down the front of your shorts. Put them down the front of your shorts and undo the top button with my thumb, and push the zipper down and push your shorts down off you. Put my fingers down the front of your panties and twist them down. Put my fingers between your legs and hold them there. Put my other hand up under your shirt and unclasp your bra. Hold you and fondle your breasts and put my mouth over yours and kiss you. Push you back and throw a leg over you and hold you down until I got the rest of your clothes off you, then could get my clothes off and then -- "<br/>
<br/>
You break off to swallow, dryly. You haven't even been touching her, only staring hard and unblinking into her eyes. She's been staring back into yours, also without blinking.<br/>
<br/>
Raggedly, you conclude with, "That's what they'd be thinking. They'd think I was fantasizing all that."<br/>
<br/>
Her nostrils flare, just slightly. "Is that what you'd be fantasizing?"<br/>
<br/>
You nod once, stiffly. Your neck feels like a rusty hinge.<br/>
<br/>
"So they'd have the right idea. What do you care?"<br/>
<br/>
You clench your eyes shut, and swallow again. "How could you stand having me out there, if you knew I was fantasizing about you that way?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe I'd like it."<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes snap open. "You like having guys fantasize about you that way?"<br/>
<br/>
You hear it as she draws two slow, deep breaths. "No. Maybe just some guys."<br/>
<br/>
You close your eyes again with a silent groan, and grasp her leg again in your hand. You grind your eye into her knee.<br/>
<br/>
She clasps the back of your neck.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're very stiff -- all over -- when the bell rings, and Andrea has to help you to your feet. Together you walk back toward the school, but you don't touch or embrace, and when you part you only tell her you'll talk to her later.<br/>
<br/>
You're in no mood for sixth period -- Advanced Weight Training -- and you don't pay attention to much of anything, except when Laurent nudges you ten minutes in and tells you to look at Gordon. He seems to glowing all over, though he hasn't done much work yet, and Patterson is muttering intensely at him in a way that makes you think he must be trying to restrain the basketball captain. "Don't say anything to them," you mutter to Laurent, and he nods.<br/>
<br/>
But you can't resist poking the hornets' nest indirectly during Chemistry, which you share with Patterson. "What's Gordon pissed off about," you ask him before the lesson begins.<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a quick, cold glance. "What makes you think he's pissed off about something?"<br/>
<br/>
"He was in a pissy mood last period. I thought <i>you</i> noticed."<br/>
<br/>
Frost seems to settle around Patterson's temples. But he shrugs. "He bought a defective cake."<br/>
<br/>
You keep your face straight. "How do you make a defective cake?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck off," says Patterson. "That's how you make a defective cake."<br/>
<br/>
You drop it with a grunt. In truth, you're too distracted by Andrea to think much about the prank that so strangely brought you together.<br/>
<br/>
But someone -- probably Chelsea, if you had to make a bet -- has been spreading news about the gag, for Jenny is absolutely gleeful last period. She is hissing excitedly at Jessica when you and Laurent join the class, and Jessica is agog at what she's saying. Everyone around them, including Tilley, is listening, so you don't even have to intrude yourself to get the story because Tilley asks the question. "So what's the deal with this cake?"<br/>
<br/>
Jenny turns laughing eyes on him. "The bakery," she says. "I don't know who it was, but someone there must have it in for Chelsea and Gordon, because they sold them a gag cake."<br/>
<br/>
"What's a gag cake?" Tilley says.<br/>
<br/>
You answer: "It's a cake you gag on."<br/>
<br/>
"Practically," Jenny says with a little shriek. "It was stuffed with newspaper. I mean, it <i>was</i> newspaper. Old newspapers molded into the shape of a cake, with icing all over it. No cake inside it!"<br/>
<br/>
"And they bought it?" Tilley asks. "Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"They didn't know! It was in the box, I guess, and they didn't see the deal with it until they took it out. Anyway, it totally ruined their stupid anniversary."<br/>
<br/>
Jessica just buries her face in her hands. Her shoulders shake with laughter.<br/>
<br/>
"How did you hear about this?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea was yelling about it all over the gym," Jenny says. "She would. She probably left claw marks in the ceiling."<br/>
<br/>
"And you were there?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, but James was. He told us about it at lunch."<br/>
<br/>
You look over at Laurent. He only says, "Whoa," and shakes his head ruefully.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Whatever Jenny and James Lamont have heard, it doesn't reverberate into Brownie's social universe, for there's no mention of it in your texts or any of the places that he likes to visit. Instead, there's just the usual "wassup?" queries, suggestions of places to meet up, and rumors of upcoming parties. There's enough of them that Laurent asks you to handle his phone as as he drives you back to your place.<br/>
<br/>
"Danny Russo," you tell him when a new text pops up on his phone as he's barreling down Borman Road. "He's either looking for table-top tennis or gay sex."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
"All he sent is one word, see? <i>Dong.</i> With a question mark after it."<br/>
<br/>
Laurent thinks a moment. "He probably means beer pong."<br/>
<br/>
"No, now it's looking even more like gay sex, because he says he's got a new set of paddles he wants to break in." Your own phone chimes. "<i>Long.</i> That's what he's asking me. Also with a question mark. Yeah, I got a long dick, Russo. Long and thick and full of -- "<br/>
<br/>
"You're not texting that back to him!" Laurent almost swerves off the road.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, why not? No, I'm kidding. I'm not up for much of anything with Russo." You also don't feel up for anything with Braydon, who is texting you from Marc's account.<br/>
<br/>
"Me neither. You probably don't want to go to the show with Hildown and his gang either. Right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can see it for free this weekend." Another text comes in, and you frown at the name. <br/>
<br/>
"So, frisbee with Allen, or dancing at Kinley's?" Laurent asks.<br/>
<br/>
"That's not a choice. Kinley and them are just gonna sit around and text to the music."<br/>
<br/>
"So, frisbee."<br/>
<br/>
But you don't answer. The text is from Andrea -- the first that Alec has ever gotten from her, and you wonder how she got his number. It's an invitation to hang out at her place.</span></div></div>


path: 113321112111112221112122111112111111221121223111112131113311112232132311112111122
author_id: seuzz
title: The Dinner Date
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Text from Supreme HQ," you mutter to Laurent. "I'm needed there."<br/>
<br/>
"Now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty soon. If I can get away tonight I'll let you know."<br/>
<br/>
So Laurent drops you off at the house. As it happens, the colonel does have something you can do -- a bathroom needs scrubbing; she didn't get to it because of another crisis -- so you pitch in there. It's okay, since Andrea's invitation was for something around 5:30. That's around the dinner hour, but you get permission to skip out on the evening meal. It's one extra portion that can go toward someone's lunch tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're nervous as you drive out to the address Andrea gave you. You weren't lying at lunch when you described your nightmare of what it would be like to hang out at her place with her pack of friends. Of course, it's not that you're afraid of the pack of beta males she described. You're nervous that they'll think you're bullying them. Your position as a fake-Brownie -- knowing how he thinks and acts and means, while also getting an outside view of how it comes across -- makes you acutely aware that he can come on a lot stronger than he intends.<br/>
<br/>
Your tension turns to panic when you see only one car in front of Andrea's house.<br/>
<br/>
She's quick to answer your knock, and there's a shy, soft gleam in her eye as she lets you in. "Hey. You have any trouble finding it?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's not an easy town to get lost in." You glance around her living room, nailing each detail into place. A faded futon against the wall just inside the door. An old wooden table -- possibly hand-carved -- against the front window. Three shelves holding rows of books and brick-a-brac on the wall opposite the futon. A desk against the fourth wall, holding an old-fashioned boom box and CD player. In the corner, a tall plastic tower of CDs. A ficus. <br/>
<br/>
<i>The 1990s called, and they want their college pad back.</i><br/>
<br/>
"You have a comment?" Andrea says as she closes the door.<br/>
<br/>
"No. Do I look like I have a comment?"<br/>
<br/>
"The way you were looking around -- "<br/>
<br/>
"I do that every place I go. You know, looking for places to get ambushed from."<br/>
<br/>
"By your brothers?"<br/>
<br/>
"Anyone." You laugh awkwardly. "It's just a thing."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm. Well, it's not much of a place," Andrea says. "A place to sleep, hang out, eat, I guess. Everyone else I know, they have a lot more stuff."<br/>
<br/>
"Your folks don't believe in material possessions?"<br/>
<br/>
She doesn't answer right away. "I don't know what my dad thinks because I don't know where he is," she says finally. Her tone and expression are very placid, but she is looking at the wall behind you, not at you. "He left my mom when I was little, and I don't remember him that well. And my mom works all the time. This really is only a place for her to crash when she's not working."<br/>
<br/>
"That sucks."<br/>
<br/>
"What does?"<br/>
<br/>
"Having to work so much." You glance around uneasily at the impoverished furnishings.<br/>
<br/>
She reads your though, and her lip curls. "It's not like we're poor. We've actually got more money than we know what to do with. My mom works because she likes it."<br/>
<br/>
"Really? Where does she work?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ristorante Locarno."<br/>
<br/>
You whistle. "That fancy place on Borman and Thirtieth? I asked my dad about it one time, he said we'd have to take out a second mortgage just to get appetizers there."<br/>
<br/>
"It's not that bad. But that's why we don't hurt for money."<br/>
<br/>
"So the tips are good? I guess I'm assuming your mom's a waitress."<br/>
<br/>
"And a co-manager. So she has to be there lots. She gets a good salary <i>and</i> lots of huge tips." She glances around, as though noticing her own living room for the first time. "And we don't spend a lot. Except once a year, when we take off on a vacation. Six weeks at the start of every summer. Last year it was Costa Rica. The year before it was Australia."<br/>
<br/>
"Wow. Doing what? Just touring?"<br/>
<br/>
"Camping, hiking, swimming. " She cocks her head. "You do anything like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"We go camping every chance we get. When I was thirteen, my dad dropped me off by myself in Suffolk Wilderness with a knife and some nylon rope and a water purifier. I had to stay there for two nights. He does that to all of us. But you know, he trained us for it first."<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds pretty hard core." Andrea tucks her hands into her back pockets and looks up at you. "We should go out some time. The wilderness or someplace, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"Just the two of us?" Your cock has been stirring, but now it roars. <br/>
<br/>
"Maybe. Come on." She brushes past you. "I'll show you the garden."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Beyond the living room is a kitchen, and beyond that a door and a back stoop. The yard isn't large, and most of it is covered in a wide, deep vegetable patch. Andrea kicks off her flip-flops, and you kick off your tennis shoes, and with your bare feet squishing in the soft earth you follow her between the furrows.<br/>
<br/>
"Do you eat a lot of fresh vegetables?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"What we can get at the store," you say. She gives you a look. "Hey, we don't make crazy money in my family, and there's six of us," you remind her.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll guess I'll feed you the best I can," she says. She snaps off some green beans and hands them to you. "Everyone likes green beans, right?" <br/>
<br/>
You're about to say you'd prefer them cooked, but you follow her in popping them into your mouth. They have a bright, raw taste, and crunch nicely between your teeth, like a soft carrot. "What else have you got?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was going to fix us a salad to go with supper," she says, and kneels to gently pull at a small, leafy green head. "You haven't eat yet, have you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I wasn't counting on you fixing something, though. Are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Salmon steaks." She gives you a sidelong look as the head of lettuce comes loose. "Do you like salmon?"<br/>
<br/>
"Canned salmon, but that probably doesn't count for you."<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't. But if you like that you'll like the steaks." She stands up and advances on you. You back up and out of the way to let her pass. The sight of her ass rocking gently as she leads you inside inflames you further.<br/>
<br/>
"I picked up two steaks this afternoon," she says when you're back inside. "On my way home. I thought you'd like it. If you came over."<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't salmon kind of expensive to gamble like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't worried. I figured -- " She hesitates. "I figured if you weren't coming over for one, it would be two meals for me. Wash this off, okay?" She hands you the lettuce.<br/>
<br/>
You oblige, and you tear the head into soft, fragrant pieces. You handle other prep work, including dicing the tomatoes and shredding a block of Parmesan cheese. Andrea handles everything else, though, including the homemade vinaigrette for the salad and the seasonings for the salmon. She pan sears it on one side, then slides it into a hot oven to finish. "I do most of my own cooking," she says. "And my mom brings home lots of recipes from the restaurant. They're so simple." She sniffs. "People think cooking has to be hard or complicated to be good. You just need good ingredients. They could do it themselves, but I'm glad they don't. It means more money for us."<br/>
<br/>
The salmon is moist, tender and flavorful, and the salad is sharp and pungent. You eat in the living room, on the futon. Andrea takes small, slow bites, and keeps her face bent toward her plate as you talk. You ask a question that's been needling at you. "Are other people showing up later? You said at lunch you always have lots of people over."<br/>
<br/>
"Most of them wait to be invited. I'm not the one who does the inviting, though. It's usually Charles and Adrian who do the calling around. As long as they don't show up, we're okay."<br/>
<br/>
It's okay if it's just the two of you? The implication excites and unsettles you at the same time. "Do Charles and Adrian like to just show up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. But I told them I was going to be busy tonight. That'll keep Adrian away. But Charles likes to spy on me. I'm sure he'll drive by, probably even try to break in."<br/>
<br/>
"Why don't you tell him to mind his own business?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I like him. And I don't mind, not usually. It's not a problem when he does." She chews and swallows a small bite of salmon. "If he does stop by, let me handle it," she says quietly.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
If it were any girl but Andrea, Brownie would be able to read and act on the signals she seems to be sending. Hell, if it was any other girl, Brownie would tell you what signals to send and how to get the girl to send back the right replies. But with Andrea you are not sure how to take things. It sure seems like she's asking you to put your hands on her. But this is Andrea Varnsworth, and there's always something like hard shield around her. You've never heard of anyone so much as making out with her, so you're not even sure she understands how a guy like Brownie is bound to react to her.<br/>
<br/>
And you're still not sure whether you should follow up on her signals, even if she does mean them. Braydon's caution still worries you.<br/>
<br/>
It all comes to a point in the kitchen, as you're cleaning up. She's finished washing the dishes, and you've finished drying them. She turns and looks you directly in the eye.<br/>
<br/>
"My mom won't be home until eleven. What do you want to do for entertainment until then?"<br/>
<br/>
Her lips remain parted after she's shut her mouth, and there's a flush up the side of her neck.</span></div></div>


path: 1133211121111122211121221111121111112211212231111121311133111122321323111121111221
author_id: seuzz
title: Dessert with Andrea
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You put one hand on the small of Andrea's back and the other between her shoulder blades, and draw her to you. She wraps her arms around you. Your mouth goes to hers, and then you're kissing.<br/>
<br/>
She kisses you back. <br/>
<br/>
You don't break it off, like you did at the school. When you do pull away, it's only to find a new angle of attack. You kiss her like she's dessert -- swallowing her down a bite at a time.<br/>
<br/>
You have to come up for air eventually, and Andrea rubs her face in your shoulder. You run one hand slowly up and down her back, and drop your other hand to her ass. You hold each other this way as you count off -- and try to control -- the slow pulses in your cock.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea turns her head so she can talk. "You sure took your time before doing anything."<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't sure you -- " You swallow. "I just didn't want to -- Presume?"<br/>
<br/>
She doesn't let go of you, but she does pull back. The face she turns up at you is reproachful. "The way you were talking to me this afternoon -- " Her grasp on you loosens. "Do you talk to other girls that way?"<br/>
<br/>
Panic seizes your heart, but there's nothing to do but answer truthfully -- she'd never believe a denial. "Well, yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"A guy who talks to a girl that way," she says. "He's going to worry about 'presuming'?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're not just any girl," you stammer. You wonder if she can feel your heart banging against your ribs.<br/>
<br/>
Her countenance darkens at that. She lays her forehead on your shoulder. "You think I'm cold or sexless or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. You're just -- " <br/>
<br/>
You can't believe you're about to apologize to Andrea Varnsworth for not trying to instantly molest her.  "You remember the way you talked to me yesterday? You tried about a hundred different ways to tell me to go screw myself? How am I supposed to act with you after you acted like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's to keep the jerks off," she says. She squeezes you tightly. "You got through. I thought you realized that."<br/>
<br/>
Your throat turns sore and raw. "It happened fast."<br/>
<br/>
"You think so? I don't."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't understand you."<br/>
<br/>
She looks up at you. "Why do you have to understand me? You told me yesterday what you want. Now I'm telling you what I want."<br/>
<br/>
And when she doesn't kiss you, you understand exactly what she wants.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You just have to step out of the way, and she takes the lead. She pulls you back through the living room and down a short hall into a bedroom. It's almost as bare as the living room: it contains only a low double bed and a dresser. There are no frilly curtains, no posters of musical bands or cute boys, no old stuffed animals. Just a place to sleep and to dress.<br/>
<br/>
Or to undress.<br/>
<br/>
You put her on the bed, and as you'd described at lunch you tug and pull her shorts down and off her, and undo her other undergarments before pulling her shirt off. When she's naked and exposed on the bed -- a lean, polished splinter of a girl -- you pull your shirt off while she unbuttons your pants. "You came prepared," she says as your sausage falls out of your jeans.<br/>
<br/>
"How do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"No boxers?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. That's normal with me. But, um -- " You suck on your lower lip. "I really didn't think we were gonna, uh, go far. So I didn't bring anything for, uh -- " You lightly clasp your member.<br/>
<br/>
"Bottom of my dresser drawer," she says. "There's some heavy socks rolled up in a ball. Here." She pushes at you, and you fall away. "I'll get them."<br/>
<br/>
You are slightly horror-stricken at the implication that she's got a supply of condoms. Your expression must betray some of your emotions, for she pauses when she turns around and says, "What?"<br/>
<br/>
"This is just a surprise is all. Your being, uh, prepared."<br/>
<br/>
It's dim in the bedroom, but you can tell you've gone badly wrong, for her expression hardens. You start to stammer. "I don't mean anything by that. I'm not trying to say -- Look, don't you <i>know</i> how you come acress to people?" Desperately you reach for her, and she softens enough to let you pull her to you. "You don't seem at all interested in, uh -- " You can't finish the sentence.<br/>
<br/>
For a long time she is unyielding in your embrace. And when she bends, it's only to turn onto her back. "Why do you think you have to understand me?" she quietly asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Because I don't want to fuck things up with you." You take a chance on clasping one of her breasts -- it's large and firm and shaped like an artillery shell.<br/>
<br/>
She ignores your move. "What do you want, Alec?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I want you to call me 'Brownie', for a start." You roll over to kiss her nipple. When that gets no rise out of her, you sigh. "I want a chance to be with you. Not just like <i>this,</i> but like we were at lunch today. At Starbucks yesterday. Up at the school this morning."<br/>
<br/>
"You want me for a girlfriend." She says "girlfriend" as though it meant the same thing as "doormat."<br/>
<br/>
"I want a <i>chance</i> at being your boyfriend. I told you I don't understand you. Can't you understand <i>me?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
She turns on her side, clasps you about the shoulders, and puts her face into your chest. "This afternoon you said you couldn't imagine hanging out with me, with my friends."<br/>
<br/>
"So let me try it. Then ask me if I can imagine it."<br/>
<br/>
"But I can't imagine it either," she says. "Not after the way you described it."<br/>
<br/>
It's like she caught your heart in her hand, and is pressing her sharp nails into it. "So what are we doing here?"<br/>
<br/>
She pulls you close and talks in your ear. "Every once in a while I want a really good, hard screw. But I don't get them very often, and I don't much like the guys I get them from."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Gee, thanks,</i> you think to yourself bitterly.<br/>
<br/>
"But I like you. Brownie," she says. She snuggles up close to you, and your cock, which had been drooping, springs back up again. "You surprised me." She throws a leg over you. "But I don't want a boyfriend." She lays her nose alongside yours. "I want you as a friend. A good friend. A special friend. At least I think I do." She pulls back a little, then sighs. "But not a boyfriend."<br/>
<br/>
You're not sure where that leaves you and her, but this doesn't seem like the time or place to ponder it. You roll over on top of her, put a knee between her thighs, and twitch the condom from her grasp. She supports you -- her hands braced against your shoulders -- while you tear it open and pull it on.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The session that follows is something entirely out of your own experience, and a little beyond Brownie's as well. Typically, he rolls into a bed a little after midnight on a Friday or Saturday, at a party, after he and a girl have had some drinks to loosen up, and goes in for a bang-and-run. Andrea is a lot more alive, and a lot more aggressive.<br/>
<br/>
She hangs off you, with arms wrapped tightly about your shoulders and legs wrapped around your hips. She pushes and thrusts herself at you, impaling herself deeper and deeper onto your shaft. You drive yourself into her as though trying to nail her to the mattress. The hard, fast action throws you out of your stride at first, but you find a rhythm, bring Andrea to it, and are soon brimming like an overtopping dam. You try to hold it back, to bring Andrea along with you, but it's like trying to balance a glass of water on your cock, and you quickly spill yourself inside her.<br/>
<br/>
But once you start pounding, you don't lose steam. There's no sagging exhaustion when you're done, but a burning need to plant yourself even more deeply inside her. After a long, hanging second of gathering yourself, you are driving inside with an even faster frenzy than when you came. Andrea's head goes back, she gasps, and a long series of thin shrieks tears from her throat.<br/>
<br/>
Then she is like a limp thing. But you don't sag with her. As her limbs fall away from you, you hunch up over her and devour her, biting and gnawing at her neck and shoulders and arms and breasts like a famished man at a feast.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You doze when you finally give out. Or, you suppose that you doze, for you come to with a start to find Andrea gently pushing her fingers through your chest hair. "Was that what you wanted?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you looking for an excuse to brag?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I'm not going to tell anyone about this. I wouldn't do that to you."<br/>
<br/>
She props herself up and continues to swirl her fingers over your chest. "You don't have to act like you're being noble."<br/>
<br/>
"I just think I understand you that much. Even if I'm not your boyfriend, I don't want the other guys going after you just because they think -- " You break off before you can say something really regrettable.<br/>
<br/>
She certainly caught your drift, but she doesn't seem to mind. "I think I can take care of myself, but that's thoughtful of you."<br/>
<br/>
"So what happens now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right now?" She turns over and from the floor retrieves an iPhone. "You probably want to go home. I think people are going to start coming over. Or you could stick it out. See how you handle the crowd."<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 113322
author_id: rugal
title: Talking About Time
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Yo, Dane!" you call out as you start heading for the door, "I'm gonna get going. See you tomorrow?"<br/>
<br/>
You want to get rid of the book, you want a little extra money, but you remember part of the reason why you stopped playing this stuff: because most of the ones that do play are just completely insufferable. These guys are no real exception from what you can see. The constant arguing, the immaturity, the... nerdiness. Oh fuck, you wonder if this is how you and Caleb and Keith look to everyone else as well? You shudder a bit at that.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh! Uh, yeah sure." he says and you can tell he's only paying half-attention to you.<br/>
<br/>
Or so you think before you get halfway to your truck and you feel a sharp tug on your shirt. You stop and turn to see Dane's smiling face. "Jeez, you couldn't have called out for me or something?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, no way. Didn't wanna cause a ruckus you know?" Dane replies leaving you to shake your head.  "So where we going?" he asks as you both clamber into your truck.<br/>
<br/>
"No clue." you reply, "I guess I could take you back to get your car and then we just go our own ways? No offense but I was kind of hoping to go to Andrea's rather than be here with this guys, you know?" You blanche at that realizing that you probably did sound like a jerk there. Why is it that "no offense" usually has the opposite effect, you wonder.<br/>
<br/>
However if you were being a prick then it seems lost on Dane. "Right! Yeah, like, I can get you in there. You know she thinks I'm cute right?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I think you may have said that, yeah." you reply as you put the truck in gear. "So, you ever had a girlfriend?" you ask as you pull out onto the street.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, go left at the next light by the way, I have. Still do. Kinda. I think." he answers.<br/>
<br/>
"Kinda?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're not ex-cloo-see-vay." Dane shrugs. "We were, then we weren't together, now we are and aren't. I can't call it, right?" he says flippantly. "It is what it is."<br/>
<br/>
You wonder what he means by all of that. Is their relationship one of those weird open things you read about online some times? Maybe she's just some self-serving bitch trying to take advantage of him to sleep around? Maybe she's hot and if you were hanging around him she'd give you a little--NO! No, you push that out of your mind. Dane's a kind soul, you couldn't do that to him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The drive out to Andrea's place is a little longer than you'd expect, a little off the beaten path right on the outskirts of downtown. The area isn't the nicest and about the last place you'd expect to find the gorgeous swim team captain; you'd have definitely overlooked it without Dane eagerly giving instructions of where to turn. It's a small place, slightly ramshackle looking and in need of a bit of attention on the outside. You notice a few cars already parked in the driveway and on the lawn so you just edge your truck up to the side of the road.<br/>
<br/>
As you walk up you notice your movements are slowed. You're hesitating, you're palms are sweaty. Only a door separates you and this naiad. Dane, however, doesn't seem to be any more wary as he casually strolls up and knocks on the door. And then the door opens and there she is.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea Varnsworth.<br/>
<br/>
And she's looking a little peeved. "No."<br/>
<br/>
She states simply. "Aww c'mon Andrea. You know you want me to stick around."<br/>
<br/>
"Go home, Dane. The answer's gonna be the same." she says, she gets ready to say something but then notices you. "And who are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm, uh, I'm Prescott. Uh that is, Willprescott. I mean..." you notice her arch an eyebrow. "Sorry, uh, confrontation. Don't do well with it. I'm, uh, Will Prescott." you say, "I kinda drove Dane out here. We were looking for something to do and he just suggested we come out here and..."<br/>
<br/>
Her stare cuts you off but it immediately shifts back to Dane. "Go home."<br/>
<br/>
"Just let them in Drea." comes another voice from inside the house causing Andrea to turn back, "You know he's just gonna sit out there looking like a sad puppy if you don't."<br/>
<br/>
She turns back to look at Dane. "Like one of those dopey St. Bernards maybe." she huffs before stepping aside.<br/>
<br/>
You follow Dane into the living room, which is sparsely populated save an old sofa, a small coffee table, and a beanbag chair. Well and by the small menagerie of people that fill it:: Jelena Petrovic, Charles Hartlein, Sienna Goldman, Fatima Zahedi. Sienna's slightly more notorious given that she once put the boot to Steve Patterson's basketballs and lived to tell about it and Hartlein's a notorious gossipy queen but outside of those vaguaries you know nothing beyond names. You and Dane take seats on the floor, Dane squeezed inbetween Hartlein and Sienna and yourself next to Fatima.<br/>
<br/>
"So you know this guy, huh?" Sienna asks you gesturing to Dane. "What's up then? How come we never see you when he comes around?"<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. "We just never really hung around outside of school until today." you reply, "I got Walberg on my ass and I just needed something to loosen me up a bit I guess."<br/>
<br/>
"Walberg... he's not making you do that goofy fucking time capsule shit is he?" she asks and you're taken slightly aback at how coarse her language is.<br/>
<br/>
You do, however, nod an affirmative. "You're doing it too I'm guessing?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Me, Fatima and Hartlein. Yell and Andrea are lucky they don't have him." Sienna states.<br/>
<br/>
"Good ol' Wallbutt!" Dane exclaims and he's the only one who laughs at his own joke.<br/>
<br/>
"Right, so what are you guys putting in there?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Just a couple of CDs I guess. I mean who needs CDs any more right?" Sienna states, "But like maybe they can decode 'em or some shit in the future and then they can know what we were listening to."<br/>
<br/>
"I've got an old journal." Charles is next.<br/>
<br/>
"Because everyone is going to care about what some preening high schooler thinks in the future, right?" Andrea asks playfully.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh pshaw, Varnsworth." Charles replies dismissively, "Things like that give you an on the ground perspective of what the past was like. The under-the-radar stories you don't see in the history books."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sure there's no vanity involved in it at all, is there Charles?" teases Jelena.<br/>
<br/>
"None." he replies emphatically though unconvincingly. "So Ms. Zahedi, do you want to go next?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, um, sure I guess." Fatima replies, "It's just a book I picked up about the Achaemenid Empire, uh the Persian Empire."<br/>
<br/>
"Which doesn't make sense because, you know, that already happened." Sienna chimes in.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea glares at her, "Actually I think it makes a lot of sense going by how she already explained it." she states.<br/>
<br/>
"Right, like you can get a good idea where people are, kind of culturally and stuff, by how they interpret past events. And even if you can't then you at least have the perspective of the person doing the writing which can be interesting all on its own." explains Fatima.<br/>
<br/>
"I get you." you reply, "Like if you read Herodotus part of the fun is sifting through the bullshit and trying to see his biases and how he's making moral judgements and such and then comparing it to others and getting an idea on general views of the time. I guess you're interested in this stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
"A little." she replies with a small smile, "It's kind of interesting. People think of history as just something that's happened but it's the story of people and it's full of every emotion and genre you could want. But it's..." she then stops and notices everyone looking at her, "Oh god, I'm rambling."<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head, "No it's cool. It's nice hearing people talk about things they enjoy like that." you say and you think you notice a bit of a re-assured expression on Fatima's face.<br/>
<br/>
"What about you..." Andrea starts obviously blanking on your name.<br/>
<br/>
"Will." you reply and you're a bit surprised by how much more calm you already feel. Even sitting next to a cute girl isn't getting to your nerves as much as you thought, even being in a room with plenty of attractive ones, and Hartlein and Dane, isn't freaking you out like you thought it would. "And I dunno, I don't have anything right now, that's what's got me worried. All I've got is this old book but... ugh."<br/>
<br/>
"An old book?" Jelena asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Just something I got from Arnholm's. It..." you stop, do you really want to say this to people you don't know? You'll look like a loon probably but... "They were trying to sell me on the fact it's magic. Uh, not that I believed them of course." you're quick to add, "But it looked kind of cool. But the pages were all stuck together and there was some stuff about me wanting to bleed on it and..."<br/>
<br/>
"Bleed on it." Andrea says coolly.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, it was latin and my latin's a little rusty so maybe I was wrong but it was enough to give me some bad vibes, right?" you declare.<br/>
<br/>
"So you're scared of a book, Prescott?" Charles says with a laugh, "Then I have to see this thing. Did you give it to Walberg?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not yet. I've still got it with me but..."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I want to see it." Charles grins, "Girls?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, why not?" says Jelena.<br/>
<br/>
"Ditto." Andrea says.<br/>
<br/>
"Same." chimes in Sienna.<br/>
<br/>
"Me too!" it's Dane this time.<br/>
<br/>
Fatima just nods an approval.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, like I said the pages are all stuck together and..." you begin protesting.<br/>
<br/>
"And we want to see it. Come on don't be a pussy, Prescott." Sienna says in a rather challenging manner.<br/>
<br/>
Fatima gives you a smile, everyone's eyes are on you, and suddenly you feel nervous once more. "It could be neat. What do you say?" she asks.</span></div></div>


path: 1133221
author_id: rugal
title: Blood Pact
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>They tell you in school and on TV and in old school specials on TV from the halcyon days where wild CRTs roamed free not to give into peer pressure. You won't be cool, you know? They're just using you. If everyone else jumped off a bridge would you do it too? You look around the room and realize that yeah, you probably would. Peer pressure's a hell of a thing after all, otherwise they wouldn't have to warn you about it. "Fine." you grunt and head out to your truck. You come back in and drop your backpack onto the floor in front of where you had been sitting before.<br/>
<br/>
"So tell me, Prescott," says Charles as he eyes the backpack, "this book: does it have subjects in it? Perhaps of a mathematical or scientific persuasion? Tell me, are you trying to get us to do your homework for you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Charles." comes the calm-yet-stern voice of Jelena.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh Yell, don't you see?" he opines, "He lures us in with promises of spooky ghost books but he was just using us for our minds. To debase ourselves intellectually... filthy!"<br/>
<br/>
"Charles!" this time it's Andrea in a not-as-calm tone of voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh fine." Charles relents as he flops his head down into Andrea's lap, and for a moment you envy him, "You know I could never go against my better half."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm honestly shocked you're all so interested in it." you say as you dig through the books and old school papers, probably too old, to find the book.<br/>
<br/>
"More like curious." Jelena shrugs, "It's something to do; a conversation starter. Maybe it'll lead us on some pretty interesting tangents."<br/>
<br/>
You finally locate the book at the very bottom, or back really, of the backpack and pull it plopping it down right in the middle of the floor. "There, you happy?" you ask. You're actually a bit surprised looking at it and you notice that no more does the cover seem to be shifting or messy. It's still intricate sure but nowhere to the point of unreadability that it had when you saw it at the book shop. Definitely weird.<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty fancy looking book." Sienna states as she eyes it, "How much you drop on it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Two bucks." you state simply, "The pages are glued shut or something." You open it up and try to turn past the warnings page but can't. "See what I mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"So you bought a fancy doorstop." says Andrea and you wilt a bit at that. So far in your brief time here she's come off as fairly cool and you're not sure if she's just stuck-up or good at keeping a poker face. Maybe a bit of both, you determine, as the middle is usually where the answer lies.<br/>
<br/>
"Well it was two dollars, it's not like I was gonna get anything for it anyway." you state, "Actually it's kind of weird. And this is gonna sound like a load of shit and a great way to make a first impression but it's the truth. I tried translating this thing a few nights ago and I couldn't write anything down. Literally I'd press a pen against the paper and nothing. Word processor would crash. It's probably coincidence but that was... I don't know. So I had to translate this, with rudimentary Latin knowledge that I barely remember, and that's when those words showed up on the inside cover." You then flip back to it.<br/>
<br/>
"Claim me with money; possess me with blood." Fatima reads.<br/>
<br/>
You take another look at it. It certainly wasn't in English before. That's definitely strange; did it change because of you getting the translation or...? You brush it off. "That's what I meant by bleed on it." you state.<br/>
<br/>
"Bleed on... shit." is all Sienna can say.<br/>
<br/>
"So bleed on it." Jelena chimes in and everyone turns to her in shock. "Why not? Think of it like a a more edgy Ouija board."<br/>
<br/>
You grumble, "I don't think a Ouija board asks me to cut my thumb." you reply. "And you seem awfully into it for someone who's not into it."<br/>
<br/>
"We've got band-aids. I think." she replies.<br/>
<br/>
"Well then why don't <i>you</i> cut <i>your</i> thumb?" you challenge, "Or why not Andrea, or Sienna, or Hartlein, or Dane, or..." You stop to look around the room. They're not serious about it and yet they are. It's an odd group, you think. Would you and Keith and James and them do this? They seem to like taking things as they come and going with the flow, even if that apparently means minor self-mutilation on your end.<br/>
<br/>
"My hands are too valuable." Jelena deadpans, "I've got the best ones since Ray McKigney."<br/>
<br/>
You narrow your eyes at her and then your mental vision narrows albeit in another way: Andrea Varnsworth, Jelena Petrovic, Fatima Zahedi, Sienna Goldman. Four girls, each attractive in their own way. Maybe if you do this they'll be impressed. Look at the balls on you, able to embrace and move beyond pain like that for some fun and experimentation! Or maybe they'll think you're a lunatic and a weirdo. Still... they're all eyeing you. They're waiting for you to make a decision.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry, Prescott, I'll kiss your boo boo to make it better." Charles shoots in sarcastically.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to do it." Fatima says as she turns shoot a quick glare in Jelena's direction, "She's just messing with you."<br/>
<br/>
At this point your desire to look "brave" and try to impress these girls has overwhelmed your logic however so you shrug. "It's fine, not like I haven't hurt myself worse." you say thinking back to that rather nasty compound fracture you got in 7th grade during a pick-up game of basketball during gym class. You pull out your trusty pocket knife and steel yourself as you press your thumb to the edge and then make a quick slice.<br/>
<br/>
"FUCK!" you exclaim as it hurt more than you realized.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus Christ, what hell are you doing?!" Andrea exclaims, "You didn't have to..." She then turns to glare at Jelena and Hartlein, "You two go get some paper towels or something, I don't need him bleeding out all over my carpet." The two of them beat feet to the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
You're not in the mood to do that either so you look down at book and quickly place your thumb onto the thumb print. Nothing seems to happen.<br/>
<br/>
"That's pretty hardcore, man, but also pretty retarded. You don't need to let those two egg you on like that." Sienna states. "Shit, I don't even think anything happened."<br/>
<br/>
You're inclined to agree and you start absentmindedly flipping through the pages when suddenly the page with the warnings flips as well. "Um, what..." is all you can mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"Wasn't that page glued shut?" Fatima asks as she eyes the book, "I mean you tried opening it and..."<br/>
<br/>
"I know, I know, I... <i>don't</i> know!" you exclaim.<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly the others crowd around you, including a freshly returned Jelena and Charles. They begin looking at the new page with you. "What the fuck is this shit?" asks one voice, Sienna. "I think that's latin." comes Fatima's voice, as best as you can make out in the overlapping murmurs and chatters at least. "Hey, turn the page!", Hartlein this time. So you do as he suggests and turn it. It won't turn. You try again and no luck. On more time and... nope.<br/>
<br/>
"Stop messing with us." says Andrea, "Turn the page."<br/>
<br/>
"I can't!" you exclaim as you try a few more times.<br/>
<br/>
In frustration you shove the book towards her and let her try. After a few times she appears visibly frustrated and then sheepishly pushes the book back towards you. "This is..." she starts as she eyes both it and you, "You turned the other page right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I couldn't before, I already showed you!" you say defensively, "It only turned after... after..." you stop as realization hits you. "Okay so I got this warning page after I translated the page before it. When I translated the warning page that's when the thumb print showed up. Now the warning page turns after I put my bloody thumb on that print."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're saying... what? That you have to do things to turn the pages? That this is real?" Andrea asks.<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes go wide and you shake your head. "I don't know what the fuck I'm saying or even what the fuck is going on. I mean... it's fucking magic! That stuff is for nerds like... like those guys who play Dungeons &amp; Dragons."<br/>
<br/>
"It certainly seems real." Jelena states plainly, "Or at least convincing enough to make you think it seems real." She looks down at the book and is silent for a moment. Then she grabs it and flips through to the first page and then the warning page, then to the new page with the theater mask on it. "It's a book about mask and disguises and changing your form." she then places it back down and looks up, "I say we keep going with it."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't believe this shit, do you Yell?" Sienna asks increduously, "It's just a dumb book. It's not like this shit is real."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe it is or maybe it isn't. Either way it'll be an interesting project, right? Something we can all share in as a group." She looks around at everyone that's gathered, "So I say we keep going."<br/>
<br/>
"Me too!" Charles chimes in, "Not that I think it's real but hey, could be fun." He then turns to Andrea with a smirk, "Hey Drea, if it is think I could use it to charm my way into Patterson's pants?"<br/>
<br/>
Andrea makes a gagging motion while Sienna speaks. "It's. A. Stupid. Fucking. Book. This is retarded." She says.<br/>
<br/>
"And creepy. I vote no if we're doing that." Fatima says.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it's givin' me bad vibes." Dane chimes in. You'd almost forgotten he was here.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea looks at everyone, back and forth between yourself, the Yays, the Nays, and the book. "Jelena and Charles are my best friends so I have to side with them, sorry."<br/>
<br/>
And suddenly all eyes fall on you. You made the decision to cut your finger and now you have to make a much bigger decision. What the Nays said is right, of course, but what the Yays said... you're definitely intrigued by the book. As intrigued as you are scared.</span></div></div>


path: 11332211
author_id: rugal
title: New Friends, Old Friends
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You look around at the assembled group: three for, three against. You're not quite sure of how you should go because either way is going to lead to disappointment, possibly to anger or resentment, from one side. And you wonder why it should fall on you? You only just got here and yet you're already making a decision. You have to choose what path they'll go down and you don't even know these people. But being here in the home of Andrea Varnsworth you think that you'd like to; even Hartlein. And the book... So you make your decision.<br/>
<br/>
"If it means anything I'm with them." you say motioning towards the Yays.<br/>
<br/>
Sienna gives you the stink-eye, "I don't see why it should. You're only here because Smokey decided it was time for his bi-weekly barge in session."<br/>
<br/>
"I resemble that remark!" Dane jumps in, "And Will is good people; you all are good people. I just wanted to show him a good time."<br/>
<br/>
"Despite how he got here the book is his." Andrea replies as she leans back against the front of the couch. "And I don't know if I believe it but there is something weird with that book. I want to see whether that's just someone's idea of a joke or what."<br/>
<br/>
"And you don't think that could be dangerous?" Fatima asks, the unease evident in her voice. "Look what he had to because of it."<br/>
<br/>
You notice your thumb and pull it up. You had been keeping it pressed against your jeans to try and stop the bleeding a bit leaving a big, dark thumb print. Jelena notices this too and reaches over to hand you a paper towel that she had gotten from the kitchen. Meanwhile all you're hoping is that the stain will wash out; you really like this pair of jeans. Just the right amount of worn-in to be comfortable.<br/>
<br/>
"Well I mean magic isn't real... right?" says Andrea and you notice her face twist up a bit at that. "But either way this thing has got me interested and like I said I want to see it out." She looks from Fatima to Sienna and back again. "But you guys are my friends too. Whatever this book is it's interesting and I want us to share in it together. So what do you say?"<br/>
<br/>
The two of them look at one another, both internally debating what to do while wordlessly debating with one another in that way that only the closest of friends can really do. Finally Sienna grumbles out an answer. "Fine, I'll go along with you but only so I can laugh at you when it turns out to be a load of horseshit." She says it with conviction but you get a sense that under her surliness she's as uncomfortable with it as Fatima seems to be.<br/>
<br/>
"What about you, Fatima?" Andrea asks.<br/>
<br/>
"You know how they ask if you'd jump off a bridge if everyone else was going to do it?" Fatima asks rhetorically, "I guess what I'm saying is that they teach you the dangers of peer pressure for a reason." You almost want to mentally laugh at that given that it's the same thought pattern you had in regards to even showing the book.<br/>
<br/>
"So you'll jump off that bridge with the rest of us." Andrea says and Fatima nods an affirmative. "Well then, I guess that's settled."<br/>
<br/>
"Me too! I'll do it too!" Dane excalims.<br/>
<br/>
"Yep, settled." she repeats trying her best to ignore Dane. "So... what now?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess we check out that next page." Jelena states plainly as she flips to the now "unlocked" page.<br/>
<br/>
And you do. You and the rest manage to figure out, or assume you do, it's for making one of those disguises mentioned in the introductory page. Further investigation reveals a variety of ingredients that seem odd at first though a little bit of jotting down, you're surprised it's letting you, and looking up translations on Jelena's laptop allow you to work out what they are and you're a bit relieved. It's all material that's a little odd but definitely not uncommon. It'll just require a bit of shopping at various types of stores is all. After you all feel that you have the translation and ingredients correct and copied down you spend the rest of the late afternoon into the late evening just hanging out.<br/>
<br/>
You find it a bit relaxing and ultimately very pleasant; much more enjoyable than hanging out with Caleb and Keith though you wonder if ti's just because it's something new and different. You're a bit disappointed when the group starts dispersing for the evening. You perk up, however, when Sienna and Fatima invite you with them on a Friday evening pizza run, an offer that you eagerl--perhaps too eagerly--accept.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The one unfortunate part is that you have to drop Dane off at school to get his car as he tells you that he has a thing he has to do early in the morning. You try following his train of thought but apart from a name here and there such as Justin Roth or Sutton Forest you're not able to really follow. Some kind of gathering, you guess, but you don't probe beyond that. You do, as you say your goodbyes, thank him for taking you over to Andrea's place and introducing you to that group. Dane, for his part, responds with a friendly hug that you yourself don't know how to respond to beyond awkwardly returning it.<br/>
<br/>
After the two of you part you then head over to Balducci's, a place that might be a bit of a hole in the wall but is known for serving the best pizza in town, to meet Sienna and Fatima. After pleasentries and a bit of light conversation Sienna decides she has a question. "So really, why'd Dane bring you over?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Like I said, he wanted to show me a good time." you reply. You notice her arch an eyebrow and you wilt under that, "Okay, he did it because we wanted to hang around some girls." you state looking down.<br/>
<br/>
"I knew it! I told you Fatima, right?" Sienna grins, "Don't sweat it, dude. Dane's predictable and guys have urges. Girls have 'em too, of course, but you know double standards and all so you get labelled a slut if you act on them. Not that I think you would've had a chance."<br/>
<br/>
"Why's that?" you ask suddenly feeling more than a little self-conscious and a tad slighted.<br/>
<br/>
"Well no offense but Andrea and Jelena... well they're out of your league in the sense that they're not even playing in your league." she replies giving you a moment to let that simmer, "Me?" she eyes you, sizing you up, "Maybe if you showed some more confidence or something, I dunno. You're not a <i>bad</i> looking guy but a girl doesn't want to be witha  drip, ya know?"<br/>
<br/>
"What about Fatima?" you ask, "Um, not that I have designs on you all or anything but if we're playing hypotheticals and whatever..."<br/>
<br/>
Fatima, at that, goes quiet. Well, quieter anyway, and looks down. "Dude!" Sienna exclaims but Fatima puts her hand up.<br/>
<br/>
"It's fine, Sienna. It's not like he would've known." she says before looking over at you. "I had a boyfriend. We were going good for a while and then suddenly he just stopped really paying attention to me. Then Yell told me he saw him hanging around with someone else. Then I ended it. It hurts but..." she sighs, "It's just a dumb high school thing."<br/>
<br/>
"I get you." you say as you vacantly stare down at your slice, "I had something similar over the summer. She's a really nice girl and everything but around the same time, I guess, I just saw her hanging out with someone else. Then she told me we were never 'for real' dating anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"Ouch." Sienna replies, "Honestly, she sounds like a bitch. Like she was using you for a quick thing inbetween guys."<br/>
<br/>
You want to say something but Fatima speaks up. "I don't think that's fair." she says, "But yeah, that's really terrible Will. I'm sorry."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, same." you reply in kind, "Not that it means anything but I think a guy would be crazy to toss you aside like that. Like I've only known you all a few hours but you seem really nice and you're obviously attractive so..."<br/>
<br/>
She goes a bit wide-eyed at that but a quiet smile breaks out on her face as she tells you that you seem like a very nice person as well. The conversation continues as you finish your food and before you go Fatima takes out a pen and small piece of paper writing her phone number down. You're surprised but she tells you that you'll need to keep in touch with them somehow. She also mentions that she has to go get some art stuff anyway so she'll knock out that part of the supplies tomorrow and then the three you of you part for the night.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's late Saturday morning and you wonder what it is you're going to do today? Caleb mentioned Friday during school that he's got to help his mom with something. Dane's out as well. Keith... yeah, you're better off looking elsewhere. Hanging around the house means you're wasting the day as well and like you want to deal with Robert's general brand of bullshit or your mom's relentless cleaning. And then you look over to the desk where some of your books and papers and other assorted items are. Among them is Fatima's number that she gave you last night.<br/>
<br/>
She said she had to do some shopping to get supplies today. She gave you her number to keep in touch with them. Maybe you should call her up to help her out; that's a way to kill a day. But you wonder if you do that if you'd give off the wrong impression and look like some lovelorn dork instead of someone wanting to hang out with a new friend for something to do. Maybe it's a bad idea. Maybe you should just hang out with Keith.</span></div></div>


path: 113322111
author_id: rugal
title: The Notadate
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You can hardly stand Keith when he's with Caleb or your other friends so alone...? Well maybe "hardly stand" is being overly mean. Keith's a very ADD sort of person and very much obsessed with boobs, tits, melons, and the rest of the female form and unlike you or Caleb he's a lot more awkward and open about it. Like he's trying to get rid of his sexual frustration by pushing it out onto everyone else instead. He can be calm, some times, and in those moments he's not bad at all but those moments can be rare and you'd rather not call him up praying that this is the time you get him on a good day.<br/>
<br/>
So you head over to your desk and grab the piece of paper, add it into your contacts, then dial it up. A very shakey-sounding Fatima greets you so you try to greet her in a more reassuring manner. "What's up?" you say to no response, "Uh it's me? Will Prescott? We hung out yesterday?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh! Rght, Will!" Fatima replies as the light bulb goes out, "Um, yeah I wasn't expecting you to call so early. sorry. So what's up yourself?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, nothing and that's kind of a problem." you grumble as you sit down on your bed, "My other friends are all off doing stuff so really the day's kind of a bust." You put a bit of a pause there, both to steel yourself and in the hopes she'll add some kind of "oh poor you" acknowledgement but you get nothing so you continue, "So I kind of thought that, I dunno, I could help you get some of the supplies that the book said it wanted?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well I don't..." she stops herself in mid thought, "Actually, you know what? Sure. Sienna's going to be with her bandmates until some time this afternoon so I could use the company. And hey, we can go grab some lunch afterwards or something." That takes you a bit by surprise, "The tradeoff is that you're carrying my supplies." and there's a small bit of a teasing tone in her voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, well, yeah. Alright." you say not really sure how to react.<br/>
<br/>
The teasing tone continues, "And you're totally paying for lunch."<br/>
<br/>
You take a second to try and remember how much money you've got left over from that summer job. Less than you'd like, you think, but you can definitely cover it. "Yeah, sure, why not?" you finally answer.<br/>
<br/>
"Great!" Fatima replies in a rather chipper manner, "So then I'll meet you up at the art supply shop in that little strip mall on 30th, alright?"<br/>
<br/>
With that the call's ended and you're left feeling rather good about yourself. Yeah, great job Will Prescott! You didn't sound like a stuttering idiot! Of course maybe that's the difference between hanging out and worrying about whether or not this girl is a potential romantic partner. Maybe you should try it more often, you muse.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's about thirty minutes later and you finally arrive at the strip mall. You figured you'd take a little bit in order to give Fatima time to arrive but you're there about another five minutes or so before she arrives. "Sorry," she says as she gets out of her car, "I wound up getting caught up in some traffic. Hopefully you weren't waiting too long."<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head and tell her its cool before following her into the art supply shop. The middle-aged woman working the register greets her by name and Fatima likewise returns it the greeting. "I take it they're familiar with you here?" you ask as you follow her down into a small aisle and pull out the checklist of supplies from your pocket.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm in here about once a week." she replies as she looks around the aisle for some new graphite pencils. "Drawing and painting and stuff is pretty enjoyable. It helps keep my mind at ease when I can absorb myself in trying to create."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do you draw?"<br/>
<br/>
"Anything really. Some times it's just some goofy doodles, some times I try and practice with colors or whatever. I kind of started out doing that anime stuff every 12 year old internet artist does when they're starting out." You notice her face scrunch up a bit at that, "But I got better thankfully. I do a bit of graphic design too so like... I've had a few local bands and some small businesses pay me to do some small advertisements."<br/>
<br/>
You're impressed by that, "It sounds like you've got a good idea of what you want to do." you say.<br/>
<br/>
"I do." she nods and turns back to you, "I'm going into Keyserling's nursing program once I graduate."<br/>
<br/>
"Damn," you say a little wide-eyed as she grabs a package of pencils and you continue down to the next aisle, "that's kind of not what I'd expect given what you told me your hobbies were."<br/>
<br/>
"Andrea and them were surprised too, well not Sienna since we've been friends forever, but I dunno." she says as she checks out a few brushes, "I've got a cousin who's a nurse and my mom teaches 4th grade at Polk so I guess wanting to help people is just kind of ingrained into me." After she finds something she turns back to look at you once more. "So what about you? Any plans on what you're going to do once you graduate?"<br/>
<br/>
You shrug, "I don't know actually. I've never really thought about it." you say, "My dad's been on my ass about getting this open entry-level position up at Salopak where he works but I don't know... that stuff doesn't really interest me, you know? That's more Caleb's, uh my friend Caleb's rather, thing."<br/>
<br/>
"Mmm, well don't stress yourself out over it. I'm kind of a special case since a lot of people don't know what they want to do when they graduate high school. Hell, a lot of them get halfway through college and still don't know what to do." she says in a reassuring manner, "I know Andrea doesn't have a clue what she's doing either, uh don't tell her I told you by the way. Most of the people in our graduating class are probably in the same boat."<br/>
<br/>
There's a bit more light conversation and once Fatima finishes up with her art supplies, which true to your word you carry, it's back into the store to start knocking off what you can from the ingredients list. The subject of the book is still a bit of a sore spot for her but she seems to put it aside as bet she can as you two are able to get roughly a quarter of what's needed. Once you're out in the parking lot you ask if you can see any of her art some time and thankfully she actually did bring a sketch pad with her that she lets you flip through. You're genuinely impressed by what you see and she, for her part, is grateful for the compliments.<br/>
<br/>
Afterwards you suggest taking your truck to save on gas and it's over to the Flying Saucer for a rather simple lunch. Nothing fancy, just a bit of afternoon coffee and sandwiches since you're trying to stretch out what you've got left, you really do need to start looking for another job, but neither of you mind it too much. "Hey, so about earlier, in the store." you begin, "Do you know anyone else who has an idea of what they want to do? Any of your friends?"<br/>
<br/>
"My friends?" Fatima ponders after taking a sip of coffee, "Um, I know Sienna's going into microbiology when she graduates. Virology or something like that."<br/>
<br/>
"Microbiology... what." is all you can get out given that it goes with the complete opposite impression Sienna gave you.<br/>
<br/>
"She doesn't really like people knowing but she can talk your ear off about the study of new super-viruses if you let her." she replies.<br/>
<br/>
"You're kidding, right?"<br/>
<br/>
Fatima looks stonefaced for all of about ten seconds before she starts cracking up. "I'm sorry!" she says while finishing up giggling, "No she wants to play music naturally. She really is passionate about it."<br/>
<br/>
Lunch continues for another little while before the bill's paid and you drive Fatima back to the strip mall to get her car, parting with a friendly hug. Fatima tells you that she really enjoyed hanging out and hopes you guys can do it again some time and you return the sentiment in kind. As you hit a red light on the way back something in the passenger seat catches the corner of your eye: it's Fatima's sketch pad. She must've brought it with her and forgot to grab it before leaving. And that's when you realize what you hadn't realized at the time: that on the way back to your truck after lunch you had been holding hands...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Damn, where have you been?" Caleb asks as you step out of your truck after pulling into your driveway.<br/>
<br/>
"Out, same as you." you reply flippantly. This elicits a roll of the eyes from him. "So I thought you were going to have to help your mom do something."<br/>
<br/>
"I did. We got a new TV for her room and I had to help her pick it up. It's not like that takes forever or anything." he shoots back, "Not like whatever you were apparently doing. You said you were out, huh?" he eyes you up and takes a whiff, "Yeah, I know bullshit when I sense it. You know you can't do anything without me around."<br/>
<br/>
You know he's just busting your balls but you can't help but be defensive, "I've got other friends too, you know. I was hanging out with one of them actually."<br/>
<br/>
"Your hand doesn't count, dude." comes the reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Fatima Zahedi, you know her?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I know OF her, why?" Caleb asks in response.<br/>
<br/>
"That's who it was. She hangs out with a couple of other people: Sienna Goldman, Jelena Petrovic, Andrea Varnsworth..." you let that last one hang, "Dane introduced me to them yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
"Stoner Dane? Bull fucking shit." is all Caleb can respond with.<br/>
<br/>
And that's when you remember the sketch pad still in the front seat of the truck. You can put him in his place right here, right now. Call up Fatima, tell her she left her sketch pad and ask if she wants to come get it. When she shows up Caleb would practically have to defer to you for who knows how long. But wouldn't that be a bit like using her? That makes you feel a bit, you don't know, wrong. Maybe you should just return it next time you see her and let Caleb think whatever he wants.</span></div></div>


path: 1133221111
author_id: rugal
title: Steps One and Two
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Yeah, you're not in any rush to call her back out here. It's just a sketch pad so you can give it back to her whenever. Part of you wants to impress Caleb, that you're friends with an attractive girl and all, but that would be kind of dickish to get her all the way out here just to one up him. So you decide against it. "Look man, believe me or not but I'm telling you it's the truth. I met Dane Friday after school, he knows that group and stuff, I hung out there that afternoon." you say and then, with a smirk, you add "With Andrea. Fucking. Varnsworth."<br/>
<br/>
"You're full of shit, Will." Caleb shoots back, "Name your hand whatever you want but that doesn't make it true. Just kind of weird."<br/>
<br/>
"Kind of weird?" you cock an eyebrow, "That's rich coming from the guy who used to pretend his lubed hand was Kendra."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, I told you that happened once, in confidence, last year and you're still going to bring it up?!" he asks rather incredulously before shaking his head. "This is what we've been reduced too, huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." you shrug as you head inside, "I guess having a girlfriend and then having that taken away..."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not about to start wailing about Lisa again are you?" Caleb asks as he follows you in.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry about it." you shake your head as you head up to your room, "So what are you doing here anyway?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh I was just gonna give you back that game you lent me." he gestures to his bag as you flop onto your bed, "I don't really like that FPS shit anwyway but I figured if everyone else was playing it..." his eyes light up, "Actually that new Ancient Papyrus game's out so I'm gonna head over to the store to grab it. Wanna come with?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know it's not gonna be as fun." you groan, "God, I really should get another job. I'm still trying to stretch out the summer job money."<br/>
<br/>
"Your dad's still on you about that job at Salopek right? You should probably take it."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. That's your wheelhouse, not mine."<br/>
<br/>
"So what is your wheelhouse?" asks Caleb, "You've gotta get your shit together, dude. This is it for us you know? We've been cruising around on easy street for 18 years but that ride's over and we've gotta start getting the rest of our lives in order."<br/>
<br/>
"No shit!" you exclaim sitting up, "It's just... I don't know. I guess I need to do some soul searching or something. Figure out what it is I want to do. Who I want to be, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Sunday is spent going with Caleb to get his game. A lunch and then spending a while at Caleb's with Keith in tow to check out the new game and then it's spending the rest of the day lazing around. By the time you get back your mother tells you that you just missed Umeko who had come over for lunch, a fact Robert pretty much rubs in your face for the rest of the afternoon, and mentally you curse Caleb and Keith and that new game for causing you to miss that. Still inbetween rounds of veging out you flip open the book. You study the page, the one with the tragedian's masks on it. You've long since made out the latin and part of you wishes the materials weren't split around so you could work on it. You realize, however, that doing it together is probably safer than doing it on your own.<br/>
<br/>
Monday rolls around and school goes about as you'd expect. Boring classes, boring people, trying to avoid the bullies--Keith wasn't so lucky this time--and getting more than a little irritated when Lisa continues blowing you off in favor of that prick Mansfield. You know she sees you too; your eyes meet in the hall after first period but it's not long before Mansfield swoops in and spirits her away without a word or act of protest on her part. You're at your locker complaining to Caleb inbetween third and fourth periods when you get a surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Will!" calls out a soft voice and you're surprised to see Fatima walk up to you.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, hey yourself." you greet back. You then realize this is the opportunity you passed up on Saturday. "Right, yeah Caleb this is Fatima. Fatima, Caleb." you say introducing them. "So what's up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not much, just that we're getting together at Andrea's place after school, me and Sienna and everyone, and I was wondering if you were gonna make it out there."<br/>
<br/>
"To just hang out or--" you start.<br/>
<br/>
"Well they wanted to check that out too, yeah." and you notice her shift a bit uncomfortably at that.<br/>
<br/>
"Well then I have to be there, right? Since I've got it with me and all."<br/>
<br/>
"Right, yeah." Fatima replies, "You remember how to get out there, right?"<br/>
<br/>
You give a positive response and she nods saying that she'll see you over there then. She waves as she leaves and you find yourself waving back. "See what I told you?" you grin, "I've got an in with Andrea Varnsworth."<br/>
<br/>
"Shit man, thats good and all but... what about this Fatima chick?" he asks. "Is she your new Lisa or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is she my new... no! No way, man!" you protest.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb just shakes his head and makes a bit of a "tsk" sound. "Shame. She's cute as fuck and doesn't seem like the type who'd lead you on. If it were me I'd be making inroads with her, if you catch my drift."<br/>
<br/>
You groan and close your locker as the bell rings. You say your goodbyes and make a dash off to class. Mr. Wilder's already a stickler about attendance and punctuality, no use pissing him off even more you think.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It takes a bit of effort on your part, and you take a couple of wrong turns along the way, but eventually you manage to find Andrea's place.<br/>
<br/>
You greet the rest of them and notice that the gang from Friday is all here, even Dane, which surprises you. You all really are all in it together, you guess. You open the book up and add the materials putting in this much of this, that much of that. The mixture in the bowl pops and bangs scaring the living hell out of everyone. Then it starts smoking freaking everyone out as Andrea dashes to open windows which is nice because a foul odor quickly follows the smoke. Once that's done you do as the book says, placing a small mirror onto a piece of paper with a sigil on it and pouring the mixture onto the mirror.<br/>
<br/>
"No fucking way." Sienna says as she eyes what appear to be ghostly wisps of blue flame dancing this way and that on the surface of the object as it forms and hardens.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry, it's just a chemical reaction." Andrea scoffs though it's unconvincing. You, and everyone else, can hear that it sounds more like she's trying to convince herself than Sienna.<br/>
<br/>
Fifteen minutes later and the mixture has hardened into a half-globe, a dull gray in color, that slowly forms into what looks to be a mold of a face. You read the page once more, "I guess the last step we have is to polish it until it turns blue." you state and twenty minutes of polishing yields no effect.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck, if you have to buff it why not do it the modern way?" Sienna asks and everyone turns to her, "I'm gonna entertain you all that this shit is real so like I said if you're gonna buff it why are you wiping it with a rag? It's the 21st century, not the 1st; I know you don't have one around here Andrea but my dad does. I run home, grab a power buffer, we get this shit done quick so we can see that this thing's a hoax."<br/>
<br/>
It's about a forty-five minute wait until Sienna gets back and once she does it's about an hour of passing the mask around and buffing before it turns a rather enchanting shade of blue. It'd be a nice thing to hang on a wall, you muse. The page still doesn't turn so you all figure that someone has to put it on. Jelena, having egged on exploring the book, volunteers. She takes the mask and places it to her face. It seems to move inside of her and she instantly passes out much to everyone's shock. A couple of minutes later the mask appears and she comes to and you notice a blue oval has appeared on the spell page so you take the mask and press it to the shape which unlocks the next page.<br/>
<br/>
Reading through and translating reveals that it absorbs images placed on it and will continue to do so until it's sealed which would be the next spell. Further examination of the next spell reveals that it's made by mixing the leftover ingredients and then "painting" the inside. The leftovers are mixed while Fatima grabs a paint brush from her car and once it's mixed Jelena begins painting the inside of the mask with the mixture. Another oval appears on the Sealing page and the mask is placed on it. The next page is unlocked but Charles mentions that it's the moment of truth: someone has to put the mask on.<br/>
<br/>
And he's right. Someone does have to put it on. Someone has to take the risk. Someone has to become Jelena. You look around: would Charles like that? What about Andrea? Or would Sienna volunteer believing it's all fake, putting her money where her mouth is? Or would you do it? You still desire to impress this group and you brought them the book. You've inadvertantly started them on this path. A part of you feels like it's up to you to shoulder the burden, take the risk and be the guinea pig.</span></div></div>


path: 11332211112
author_id: rugal
title: A Hughsian Moment
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I'll do it." you say causing all eyes in the room to turn towards you. "Charles is right."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course I am."<br/>
<br/>
"We have to see if this thing does what the book says. Someone's gotta try it out so I'm volunteering myself." you say as confidently as you can.<br/>
<br/>
"And who made you King Shit?" Sienna challenges you, "You just got here and you're already trying to make declarations and what the fuck ever else?"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to do it Will." adds Fatima in a much more calming tone.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I do. The book is mine, I'm the one who brought it here, I'm the one who started all this. So the least I can do..." you trail off trying to think of the right way to word it.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh so it's your burden or something right? Like you've gotta do this to impress us?" Sienna scoffs. "And if that's your fucking logic then why not let the Cannibas Cowboy over there do it considering he's the one who dragged you here in the first place."<br/>
<br/>
Dane shifts a bit uncomfortably and Fatima jumps back in, "Dane doesn't have to do it. Neither does Will. Or any of us." she states.<br/>
<br/>
You reach down at the mask of Jelena laying in front of the book and pick it up. You can see her features on the mask and even a bit beyond the mask, like a hologram, and yet you can't. It's part of the apparent magicks, you assume; it's simultaneously there and it's not. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light reflecting off the surface. "No, I do." you state as you stare at the inside of the mask. "I mean I guess... we saw how the thing went into her right? That's not normal. But still..." you take another hard look at the mask in your hands. "I'm gonna do it."<br/>
<br/>
"Will..." comes Fatima's voice.<br/>
<br/>
But there's no real talking you out of it. You once heard a wise saying, or maybe not so wise, from some Japanese cartoon that was on late night television: men have two things, honor and a penis. Well if this works you'll probably lack one of those but in your mind it'll be made up with in the other. So you inch back against the sofa and then lift the mask to your face. Things seem to grow darker as it closes in, and then blackness hits for real...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You come to... well you're not sure how long it's been. You can only really know that it's some vague "later" timeframe. You put a hand to your head and notice that it's much slimmer. Your hair's about the same length you can tell as a bit of it hangs in your face but instead of dirty blonde it's darker, either a black or dark brown you're not quite sure. Your shirt, you can feel, drapes on you a bit and you can feel a weight on your chest. Not a great weight, they're a little on the small side, but a weight all the same that wasn't there. And speaking of things that aren't there there's definitely a space between your legs.<br/>
<br/>
"No way! No <i>fucking</i> way!" Sienna's voice couldn't be any more obvious.<br/>
<br/>
"It worked?" you ask a bit groggily as you still shake the cobwebs out.<br/>
<br/>
"Did it..." Andrea stares wide-eyd, "Shit! I just... I can't believe it."<br/>
<br/>
You look over at Fatima who can do nothing but shake her head in disbelief. The reactions of Charles and Dane are about the same as everyone else's... well except Jelena who seems oddly calm by staring at what you guess is her doppelganger. Shit, are you her doppelganger? You need to find out. "Bathroom." you say simply.<br/>
<br/>
"What so you can...? That's fucking disgusting." Sienna states.<br/>
<br/>
You blow it off and get up, heading down a hallway and peering into an open door on the right that appears to be it. You flip the light on and step in, staring into the mirror above the sink. Jelena Petrovic stares back at you. Oh she might be wearing your clothes but it's her. The dark hair, the skinny frame, slightly bigger than normal nose and small mole at the bottom corner of her mouth. Yeah it's her alright. You resist the urge to touch your chest or between your legs and instead simply place a finger onto said mole. Half of you is in disbelief but the other half is thinking "well of course, what did you expect you dummy".<br/>
<br/>
"How does it feel?" Jelena's calm voice snaps you out of your reverie.<br/>
<br/>
"Really fucking weird." you state, twinging a little bit at her voice coming from your mouth. "How do <i>you</i> feel?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Really fucking weird." she echoes you. "But that's where the interest is. If this book you brought here was normal then it wouldn't be weird and where's the fun in that?"<br/>
<br/>
She walks out of the bathroom and you follow her down the hall and into a bedroom, Andrea's you'd guess. "You're calm about all of this." you state plainly as you sit down on what you assume is Andrea's bed, "That's the real weird part about this."<br/>
<br/>
A small, surpressed laugh escapes Jelena as she sits down across from you in an old computer chair. "I guess I'm good at coming off like that, huh?" she says as she eyes you, "Because inside I'm a whole mess of emotions. And what about you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Inside?" you ask and she nods, "Inside this is the freakiest shit I've ever seen. It's the scariest shit I've ever seen. It's the coolest shit I've ever seen. And I don't know which is the right way to feel or even if there's a right way to feel. Like what, ten? Fifteen? Whatever minutes ago I had a cock between my legs, now I've got tits on my chest. And I'm sitting here talking to a person whose appearance I've got."<br/>
<br/>
"Ah, my own clone. Now neither of us will be virgins." Jelena replies dryly; thankfully you're fairly sure she's joking, "But that's the thrill, isn't it? Think about it, what was your life like before you put that mask on?"<br/>
<br/>
"Before I put it on? It was..." you wince a bit, "It wasn't the best I guess. I've always had Lester Pozniak and a couple of other assholes like that on me. I don't think I really had much friends beyond Caleb and Keith. James, Jenny, Carson and Paul to a lesser degre."<br/>
<br/>
"Jenny... isn't she friends with Yumi? I see her sit with that group some times. You probably liked that didn't you?" Jelena grins.<br/>
<br/>
It causes you to blush a bit. "I guess. I mean... Yumi's pretty, very pretty, but I don't have any interest in her for that. No I have..." you stop yourself at that, "Well, had..." and that as well.<br/>
<br/>
"Hmm?" Jelena turns and cups her ear in your direction.<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head, "I could take the bullies and lack of friends; it's something I've dealt with my whole life. But you know what the worst is? When you fall hard in the best way and then it turns out the whole thing wasn't what you thought. And the person you thought it meant something too can't even look you in the face. And then there's an asshole who..." you try to get the words to come to you, "Do you ever feel like that? Do you ever feel like it seems you have the entire weight of the world trying to hold you down?"<br/>
<br/>
"A glass stratosphere as oppoed to a glass ceiling, right?" she asks rhetorically. "I think... I'm not the best person to talk to. Drea would be more your speed."<br/>
<br/>
"Andrea? But she--"<br/>
<br/>
"Is really good at playing it cool. She really should take up poker because she'd rake in cash." comes the reply, "But I know that she's an emotional person deep down. I wish she'd let it show more."<br/>
<br/>
"That surprises me. So far she's come off as kind of aloof. Like she doesn't let that stuff bother her." you state.<br/>
<br/>
"Which is how she likes it." Jelena shakes her head at that, "She has reasons for being how she is, very good reasons, but they're things she needs to work through. But it's not really my place to say anything more than that. You should talk to her if you think you can chisel through her exterior." her face suddenly lightens up, "You should talk to Fatima s well."<br/>
<br/>
"Why Fatima?" you ask obvliviously.<br/>
<br/>
"Becaaaaaauuuuuuse..." she lets the word hang there hoping you pick up on it, "She's a sweet girl, you know. Very kind."<br/>
<br/>
"She told me she wanted to be a nurse."<br/>
<br/>
"She does. She likes to help. She feels better by making other people feel better." she says as you notice a twinkle in her eye, "And how did you feel with her? Did it help take away from your ex?"<br/>
<br/>
"How did you--" you stop, she probably mentioned something. It's not a <i>big</i> deal but... "It was nice. Having somebody I could talk to about something other than video games or boobs."<br/>
<br/>
"And how do you feel when she sits next to you?"<br/>
<br/>
You pause at that one. Sit next to you? Well, you sat next to her when Dane brought you. You sat next to her in the truck. And this afternoon? Yeah, she was sitting next to you as well. You noticed but at the same time you hadn't. "So what are you trying to say?" you ask. You think you know but you want Jelena to say it.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm saying that someone needs to help her feel better as well. I'm saying you should invite her out to a movie."<br/>
<br/>
"A movie? Like a date?!" you ask astonished, "But I don't... we just met!"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't say anything about a date, did I? I said see a movie with her. Friends see movies together with no romantic inclinations, you know." Her words sound series but her face looks as if it's betraying her. "Oh and you can take that thing off now. We know it works."<br/>
<br/>
Yeah, you should get it off. But what Jelena said... seeing a movie would be nice sure. And Fatima's attitude towards you as felt reinvigorating and probably done a lot to help you get at least semi-accepted into this group. You know she's feeling down because of her ex-boyfriend so maybe you should return the favor like Jelena said. After all, it'd be totally, 100% platonic right? You've still got Lisa... you hope.</span></div></div>


path: 113322111121
author_id: rugal
title: "Yeah, like a date I guess."
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Jelena leaves the room and you sit there for a moment continuing to ponder. You know she's trying to set you up but you wish you knew why. You're not a prize catch physically or anything. It pains you to admit it but you're kind of immature and a bit whiny. On top of that you've only known this group of people for a few days. Is she just a big ol' romantic at heart? Does she think you'll take her mind off of her ex? Maybe she's just playing you, setting you up to make an ass out of yourself or something.<br/>
<br/>
You really wish you had her mind instead of her body... well, maybe in addition to her body you think as you take a quick peak down your shirt at the two smallish but perky breasts resting on your chest. Well you won't even have that for much longer as you lay backwards, reach your hands up, and black out as you pull the mask off of your face.<br/>
<br/>
Once you wake up and head out into the living room you hand the mask back to Jelena and ask if anyone's figured out the next page yet but you're met with shaking heads and other denials. You spend the next half hour or so working through all of the sigils and latin, mostly it's you and Jelena as you feel like you've gotten a feel for it and Jelena's quite good at putting it all together and once you've got the translation written out you pale a little bit. It's going to require more materials, maybe a trip to the hardware store or a scrapyard to get some of it. There's also something in there about minds.<br/>
<br/>
You all figure, however, that you can deal with all of that tomorrow. Homework or other such things are calling so you agree to call it a day. After goodbyes have been said you're walking out the front door behind Fatima when you remember what Jelena said to you earlier. You realize screw it, she hung out with you Saturday when she didn't have to so you probably should pay her back. And why <i>were</i> you worried about Lisa earlier? She broke up with you... except in her eyes it wasn't really a breakup; if she thinks that little of you then so what?<br/>
<br/>
Well, it all <i>sounds</i> good right? Still you figure why the hell not and call out to her.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, hey, Fatima?" She stops and turns around, "Can I talk to you for a minute? I, uh..." well steeling yourself was good for about five seconds. She's with Sienna so you don't want to just ask her right there. You need an excuse to pry her away. You spot your truck; the sketchbook! It's still there so it's as good an excuse as any. "You left your sketchbook in my truck on saturday and, um, I've got it with me so... you know..."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes go wide with recognition and she nods. "Yeah, alright. Gimme a sec." She turns back to Sienna and gives her a friendly hug and goodbye before coming over. You lead her over to your truck where you dig through the passenger side until you find it. "Thanks, I was actually wondering where I'd put it."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, no problem." you state still a bit nervous. It's just a friendly little thing so why <i>are</i> you nervous? Either way it takes every last ounce of will you have to work up the words. "Right so yeah I just wanted to say thanks for hanging out with me Saturday even though, you know, you didn't have to or anything. I had fun."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry about it, I enjoyed it too." she smiles.<br/>
<br/>
You take a breath, "Still I kind of want to pay you back. So if you have time or anything... wanna go see a movie?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh! Um..." her eyes go wide, "On a Monday?" You give a small shrug indicating why not though inside you feel like, yep, you've made an ass of yourself. "So just you and me catching a movie? Like a date?"<br/>
<br/>
"What? No, um..." you stop as you notice her. There's a bit of a mischievous twinkle in her eyes... eyes that are both striking and soulful. Eyes on a face framed by dark hair. You can't really deny it, she's cute. You know what? Screw it. "Yeah, like a date I guess." You immediately feel yourself turn red.<br/>
<br/>
Fatima, for her part, lets out a playful giggle and you're surprised by her response. "Then... it's a date!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You each take your own vehicles, Andrea lives a bit out of the way after all, to the theater. The movie itself is nothing particularly memorable, a fairly paint by numbers comedy. Some laughs here and there but nothing you're going to remember even a week from now. It's also not helped by wondering if you should put your arm around her the whole time and a thousand other nervous thoughts that eat at you the whole time.<br/>
<br/>
After exiting you grab Fatima's hand, this time conscious of it, and head back to where the two of you parked. As you stand inbetween your truck and her car you notice the air getting a bit awkward. "Um, so, enjoy the movie?" is the only thing you can think of to ask.<br/>
<br/>
"It was alright." she says and while the tone of her voice is friendly you're not quite sure if she did. "Thanks for taking me." she says seeming to sense you're uncomfortableness.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh it's... it's no problem." you stammer. Well shit, this was a bad idea wasn't it? "So earlier you said, well, date right? Like a date date?"<br/>
<br/>
"Of the romantic, courting kind yeah." comes the reply.<br/>
<br/>
You're definitely surprised by the bluntness. "I guess I'm just surprised. I dunno, we only just met and everything so it's like... well, I'm not really a catch I guess. You're an attractive girl and you could probably get someone better I guess."<br/>
<br/>
Fatima, for her part, wraps onto your arm and rests her head on your shoulder. "Maybe but you've never had that feeling where you meet someone, you talk to them and spend a bit of time with them, and it just feels right?" she asks, "Sienna's kind of right: give yourself more credit Will. You're a nice guy, you're not bad looking although you could maybe clean up juuuuust a bit. I don't really know how to say it but even if it's just been a few times being around you makes me feel better. I feel more relaxed and at ease."<br/>
<br/>
"Safe?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe. I just know that it's a feeling I like. You may not realize it but you've got kind of a calming presence." she states.<br/>
<br/>
"Calming?!" you almost want to spit-laugh at that, "That's a first. Caleb usually bitches about me being hysterical."<br/>
<br/>
"I can see that." she replies, "But you're not like that around us. You seem, I dunno, calm and decisive. You weren't like that saturday either. Just, you know, give it some reflection and I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
With that she turns back in front of you, leans up, and gives you a kiss. On the lips. Sure it's just a quick peck but still! "Um, wait, so does that mean we're..." is all you can get out.<br/>
<br/>
She smiles, "What do you think?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're positively ecstatic at school the next day. Caleb and Keith note your good mood as do James, Jenny, and their crew. You don't really dwell on it and in fact say nothing at all. You kind of feel like you'd be rubbing it in a bit for Caleb and Keith. Paul too given his unrequited feelings for Yumi. James and Jenny... maybe not so much; it's obvious they're both into each other but James has always been a bit guarded with his emotions so the two of them are basically the most officially together "we're not together" people in the school.<br/>
<br/>
When you pass Dane in the halls between classes you give him a simple clap on the shoulder and tell him thanks. He's not quite sure about what but he returns the thought all the same.<br/>
<br/>
When you're getting stuff out of your locker later on in the day you're approached by Fatima who tells you that you'll all get together wednesday; her and Andrea and Charles are going to take care of getting stuff together for the next page of the book today so you won't get much of a chance to see her until then. A quick hug later and she's off and you feel as if nothing can ruin your good mood.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Will."<br/>
<br/>
You stop dead in your tracks. You turn to the source of the voice and sure enough there she is, hand in hand with Mansfield: Lisa.<br/>
<br/>
"Does Walberg have you doing one of those time capsules too?"<br/>
<br/>
"Does he? Um... yeah, he... he does." you stammer out.<br/>
<br/>
"Any idea what you're putting in there?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
You shrug, "I, uh, had something but decided it wouldn't work. I don't think I could've written an essay on it."<br/>
<br/>
Lisa nods but her next question definitely catches you off guard, "So, you have a girlfriend or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"A girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I saw you talking with... um, crap I can't remember her name. But just now, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Lisa, come on." Geoff says, "We have to get to class and we know he doesn't have on."<br/>
<br/>
God, what a douche. You still don't know what she sees in him. "Fatima." you state simply trying to blow off his little comment.<br/>
<br/>
"Right, yeah, I think I've seen her around with Andrea and those guys." she replies.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't see why you care." you mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"Will, despite whatever you think I DID enjoy spending time with you and do still care about you, you know." You notice Geoff getting exasperated but Lisa ignores him, "So it'd be nice if you found someone. So is she...?"<br/>
<br/>
You almost want to tell her to fuck off. After what she did why does she think it's any of her business whether or not you have a girlfriend? Especially when she's holding hands with that tool Mansfield. But... she said she still cares about you. Last night with Fatima gave you a great confidence boost and maybe now you can stand up to that prick and get Lisa back and... no, no. No way. Fatima obviously seems to think she's your girlfriend now, and you felt the same way earlier too. But you see Lisa standing there and... shit!<br/>
<br/>
You're definitely dating Fatima now, right?</span></div></div>


path: 1133221111211
author_id: rugal
title: Moving On and Not Looking Back
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>That's an absolutely stupid question to ask yourself you realize; in a few days she's treated you with more respect and dignity than Lisa ever did. Sure you got a tiny bit intimate with Lisa occasionally but to her it apparently meant nothing. She couldn't even give you the courtesy of properly dumping you but then again why would she? After all in her eyes you were "nothing serious". Fatima, though, she understands what treating someone like that feels like and as a result you feel like, if things ended, she wouldn't do it so callously.<br/>
<br/>
Those are harsh thoughts, you realize, and perhaps they're coming from the rush of emotions you're feeling with Lisa's appearance. However could anyone fault you for feeling like that? She has the nerve to act all lovey all summer and then tell you that she wasn't actually your girlfriend and to top it off she tries talking to you like a friend while hanging on the arm of <i>that</i> d-bag? That smug, know-it-all prick? You'd hate Geoff Mansfield even if he hadn't stolen Lisa from you. Hell, you already did and despite walking the halls hand in hand with that jackass she's going to try talking you and asking you about your lovelife?<br/>
<br/>
"Will?" her voice cuts in.<br/>
<br/>
Once again the thought comes back. <i>"Why the hell do you care? Why do you think it's any business of yours? Why don't you take your serious boyfriend and seriously fuck right off?"</i><br/>
<br/>
But you can't do that. You're not that kind of an asshole. You vaguely lament not having the balls to say what's really on your mind and instead decide to be honest. "Sorry. Yeah, she is." is all you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Well that's great, Will! I'm really happy for you!" she smiles, "I knew you'd land on your feet. You're too good a guy not too."<br/>
<br/>
<i>"But apparently not good enough for you."</i> you think bitterly. However, you just offer a quiet thanks before Mansfield, obviously sick of this, convinces her to go. She gives you a wave and you weakly wave back as she disappears into the crowd.<br/>
<br/>
Part of you hopes you never see her again after what she did though you realize that's probably impossible. There's also a good chance she'd start thinking it'd no longer be awkward and try to start up conversations as you pass and who knows, maybe it won't be. Maybe a real, platonic friendship would be able to develop between the two of you in the future.<br/>
<br/>
But right now? You're over her. You turn the opposite way her and Mansfield were going and head to class. Any other time you'd probably take a glance behind you to see if, perhaps, she's still lingering around. This time, however, you don't look back.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Hey, so yeah, thanks." you say after catching up to Jelena as school lets out. She merely gives you a quizzical look, "Oh right for the movie suggestion last night." you add.<br/>
<br/>
Her face lightens up, "Oh that! Yeah I heard."<br/>
<br/>
"From Fatima?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well yes but it's high school, you know. Word gets around so I would've heard it anyway." she states.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah but you were obviously trying to set us up." you reply, "I'm actually wondering though... why? You barely know me and you're trying to play matchmaker. You don't think that's a little, I dunno, odd? What if I turn out to be an asshole?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think you're an asshole." she replies plainly. If nothing else, in the few days you've known her Jelena seems very good at keeping a calm and measured demeanor. "Look, not to brag but I like to think I'm a perceptive person. I like a good puzzle or a good mystery and I like reading people. Fatima is very much a person who wears her heart on her sleeve and I could tell that she felt something."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't think she's just, I dunno, rushing into something because she's on the rebound?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"It could be but for as long as I've known her she hasn't been the type to rush into things." she digs through her purse pulling out a pack of cigarettes. She takes one, lights it, and takes a drag before continuing. "Obviously she thinks there's different about you."<br/>
<br/>
You try to avoid the smoke, you'll never understand why people bother with those gross things. "She said it was one of those things where you meet someone and you just kind of, you know, know."<br/>
<br/>
"And that was fairly obvious. What about you, though?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"What <i>about</i> me?" you return the question.<br/>
<br/>
"You had the same feeling, didn't you?"<br/>
<br/>
You pause, "I don't know. Maybe." is all you can say, "I guess I did feel something but I was so worried about Lisa that... ugh. But I'm over her now, last night and today made me realize that and I want to try and make things work with Fatima. I guess that's kind of a crazy thing to say about somebody you've only really just met but... yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think it's crazy at all." Jelena replies after taking another drag, "Love at first sight exists after all and I hope it does work, for the both of you, but especially for her. She's too nice a girl to see getting hurt."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do the others think of it?" you ask, "Sienna and them."<br/>
<br/>
"Andrea and Charles, I doubt they care too much either way. No offense but to them right now you're kind of a non-entity. Sienna..." she pauses a bit and smirks, "Sienna's fiery and she's fiercely protective of Fatima, of anyone she really likes I guess, but the two of them have been best friends since they were kids. I imagine she's probably a little uncomfortable with it especially after the last time. But don't presume I speak for her." She pulls out her phone to check the time and you notice her face fall a bit, "Shit, I've gotta get home. But I'm happy for you, Will, really. Just don't fuck up or Sienna will have your nuts in a vise." she gives a wry grin before heading out to her car.<br/>
<br/>
As you watch her depart you find that you've only really got one thought regarding her: she's cool.<br/>
<br/>
You're surprised by a slap on the back and as you turn you see Caleb and Keith walking up. "So you took my advice, huh?" Caleb asks rhetorically. "Good job, man. She's cute as hell and maybe now I won't have to hear you moan about Lisa anymore. C'mon, let's go get some burgers or something to celebrate our little boy becoming a man."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The next day goes about as well as you could reasonably expect. For once you don't get any shit from any of the bullies though you're sure they'll make up for it at some point. As well you feel that there's not much of a point in trying to hide your relationship so whenever you and Fatima see each other it's always a quick hug, a quick peck, the public displays of affection that you expect all new couples like going through; "I'm happy and I want the world to know" all of that.<br/>
<br/>
You even manage to convince Fatima to eat lunch with you and your group of friends and to your surprise, although maybe it shouldn't be, she manages to get along fairly well with them. Her and Jenny especially hit it off and deep down you think that it's kind of neat that you're helping to bridge all of these social gaps, even if it's in a kind of minor way.<br/>
<br/>
After school the group, minus Dane who nobody was able to get in contact with, gather at Andrea's to get the next spell done. The result of the spell is a thin, silver strip that, going by the book, you're supposed to place on your head. You inscribe the necessary runes onto it and then Jelena, having already tested the mask, decides to test this band as well. Much like the mask it sinks into her and knocks her out though for a shorter amount of time. It re-emerges with the name "JELENA PETROVIC" now inscribed onto it.<br/>
<br/>
Much like the other spells you figure that it's now time to unlock the next one so Jelena takes the band and places it onto the page. When turned, the back of the page describes how the band contains the memories, the personality, everything mentally about a person. The next spell is fairly short and with some translation you realize that it's the process of combining the mind strip with the mask; mind <i>and</i> body. Well if these things are intended to be disguises that would make sense wouldn't it?<br/>
<br/>
The process of combining both parts is a fairly quick and painless one and at the end of it you're left with a mask that contains both the appearance and memories of Jelena. The mask is placed on the book, the page is turned, and you stop. The next spell looks a bit more complicated so you all figure that this is a good stopping point for now. Still, however, there's the mask. It needs to be tested out. Since you've already worn it once you volunteer yourself a second time. Jelena, however, shoots you down though without reason.<br/>
<br/>
Instead she hands the mask to Charles and tells him to put it on. He looks a bit reluctant but eventually relents. He lays down, takes a breath, and puts the mask to his face.</span></div></div>


path: 11332211112111
author_id: rugal
title: Shuffling the Deck
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"It's a real shame, Yell." the other Jelena states with a smirk, "I could probably get a good man like this. You've got lips that could do some wonders, you know, but alas..."<br/>
<br/>
"Charles!" Andrea exclaims.<br/>
<br/>
Jelena shakes her head, "Words are words, Drea, and you know how Charles can be." she turns to Charles, a small smile on her face, "Besides I know Mr. Hartlein here wouldn't actually do anything, he?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe not as you, Ms. Petrovic, but if I could get inside the skin of, say Kendra and get Patterson alone?" you see a shudder pass through Charles, "Ooh, it's practically getting me wet."<br/>
<br/>
"That's really fucking gross, Charles." Andrea continues with her thoughts on the subject. You can't say you disagree with her, either.<br/>
<br/>
Jelena, for her part, seems utterly unfazed. "And is that coming from you or, well, me?"<br/>
<br/>
Charles gives it a moment of thought. "Both, I guess." is the simple reply, "I'm obviously thinking about Steve but it's like your disembodied voice is in my head going 'Keeeeendra'. It's kind of unsettling."<br/>
<br/>
"Can you focus on that?" Jelena asks, "That voice?"<br/>
<br/>
Charles takes a breath and you notice him sit in silence with his eyes closed. A moment later he opens them and a smirk appears on his face. "Of course I can focus on that, because I'm Jelena Petrovic." he then looks over at Jelena, "It's a shock isn't? Being face to face with yourself? But this isn't the first time, right?" he then turns his gaze to you, "It's good that you took my advice, Will. Love at first sight exists after all and I hope it does work, for the both of you, but especially for her."<br/>
<br/>
You're taken aback. That last bit, he was perfectly recalling the conversation you and Jelena had yesterday. In fact everything is dead-on. The words, the tone, the cadence, the expression and mannerisms.<br/>
<br/>
"This is really fucking eerie." Sienna echoes your thoughts, you're guessing the others would too if they said anything. "If I didn't see him put that thing on I wouldn't be able to tell."<br/>
<br/>
Everyone else, in fact, is in agreement and a moment later Jelena has taken her mask off of Charles. Another couple of moments and Charles is back in the land of the conscious. "That was... wow." is all he can say.<br/>
<br/>
"It was kind of creepy." Andrea states.<br/>
<br/>
"Call as hell though." Charles grins, "You should give it a try, Drea."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you... why would I try it?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Because he's right, it <i>is</i> fascinating." Jelena states to the surprise of everyone else. "So we know that with this mask and one of those metal strips you can impersonate someone perfectly. That's great but I want to really put that to the test." She looks down at the material used to make the mind strip, "We have enough material here to make more of those strips and we can gather material to make more masks."<br/>
<br/>
"What are you talking about?" Andrea asks.<br/>
<br/>
You can tell by the look on Jelena's face that the gears are turning. "I'm saying that we do a real experiment with these things and put them to a real test. We get the materials, we make six masks, one of each of us, and we trade them." That mischievous smile appears on her face, "I'm saying that we spend a day as someone else and see if we can pull it off."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You look forlornly at your dwindling cash supply as you open the drawer. You need more money, especially with a girlfriend, but... well, could probably ask your dad for some but you know what he'd say. <i>"I've got money for you, ma boy, right here at good ol' Salopek HO HO HO!"</i> You need a job, sure, but that's about the last place you want.<br/>
<br/>
Since Andrea, Fatima, and Charles covered the cost of materials for the strips, it's yourself, Jelena, and Sienna covering the costs for more mask material. Thankfully you might not have to take as big of a hit since it'll be split between three people but you have to gather a greater quantity of stuff so who even knows? It's still late in the afternoon so you do have time to make a quick run and grab your share of the stuff. All told the cost actually comes out to about the same as last time.<br/>
<br/>
Just like you figured, you get some harassment from David Kirkham, who throws you into a locker and makes some remarks about how you should send your cute little girlfriend over so she can see what a real man is like. You fight the urge to punch him in his smug face, mainly because you're not particularly strong and Kirkham would just make it worse, and he eventually gets bored and leaves.<br/>
<br/>
You take lunch with your usual crew and as you leave to go back to class run into Jelena. You tell her that you'll need a more private area and you think you've got just the place in mind. You tell her about the basement in the abandoned elementary school and that seems to pique her interest. You ask her if she can tell the others to meet at there once school gets out and she agrees. Whether or they agree to it or not, you don't know, so hopefully but you wouldn't want to risk Andrea's mother walking in on what you all are doing so it's worth the chance.<br/>
<br/>
You chat with Caleb a bit as school lets out until you feel an arm slip around yours and turn to see Fatima's smiling face. Pleasantries are exchanged, as well as a quick kiss between you and her. You tell Caleb you'll try catching up to him this weekend as you head out to the parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Thankfully the crew does show up at the school and you lead them to the padlocked door and then on into the basement. Enough light filters through to see so you decide not to waste any time in getting to work. You all get to work actually making the masks and once that's done half of you take the mind strips while the other half takes to polishing the masks. Thank god Sienna had the foresight to buy a couple of cheap power buffers to go with the one from her dad.<br/>
<br/>
Between buffing, making the runs, getting the masks and strips updated, and then combining it all the process takes a few hours. You take a quick step outside to see the light situation and notice the pink hue made by the sun going down. That probably means it's time to either hurry it up or put the actual switching off until tomorrow but you step back in and think you feel your eyes bug out as you notice the light is on. You tell them that you've actually avoided turning on that light for fear of faulty wiring but they tell you not to worry (Sienna's, unsurprisingly, tells you to "stop being a pussy").<br/>
<br/>
"So what do we do?" you ask as you take a seat on the dirty floor. "Like who switches with who? Do I switch with Jelena or Charles or something? Do Sienna and Fatima switch?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why not do it like a circle thing?" Fatima chimes in, "You get someone's mask, that person gets the next person's mask, and so on."<br/>
<br/>
"Wouldn't that be kind of confusing with a large group?" Andrea asks. "Besides I'm not too keen on having, say, Will in my head. No offense."<br/>
<br/>
"We could do a smaller version of that, though." Jelena states. She picks up Charles' mask and looks at it, "We break up into two groups of three and do it in a circle like that. Take Charles' mask here: let's say I put it on. Then Charles has Andrea's mask while Andrea has mine. You three," she points to you, then Fatima, then Sienna, "Would be the other group."<br/>
<br/>
There's agreement with that and Jelena's group agrees that they'll do it in the order she laid out: Jelena to Charles, Charles to Andrea, Andrea to Jelena.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm surprised you're going along with it at all, Fatima." you say as you touch your own mask, "Before you seemed incredibly put off by it."<br/>
<br/>
"And maybe I still am. But," she looks at Sienna, then you, "I've got you two so I guess I can hope things will be fine. Jelena seems so confident about it too that it kind of mellows me out."<br/>
<br/>
"So how do you want to do this?" you ask as you look down at the masks.<br/>
<br/>
"We could do it like, you take my mask, I'll take Sienna's, Sienna can take yours." Fatima replies.<br/>
<br/>
"Him?!" Sienna exclaims incredulously. "I'm not really in the mood to have a cock between my legs and if I did want one I could probably do better. So how about I become you, you become him, he becomes me? Ugh, goddamn it's actually weird as fuck just talking about this shit but I also... kinda don't want him in you. He's a guy so give him a pair of tits and a pussy and he'll go to town."<br/>
<br/>
"What the hell?" you ask, "That's dumb! Besides by that logic wouldn't I be doing the same in your body?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure but I've done worse to my own so what the fuck ever. Fatima's not me though."<br/>
<br/>
"I really don't have a problem with it." Fatima says, "Because I'd probably do the same in his." She blushes a bit in embarrassment at that.<br/>
<br/>
Sienna throws her hands up, "Fine, whatever, do what you want and I'll go with it."<br/>
<br/>
So once more it comes down to you being the tiebreaker. Being a girl for a day is going to be weird no doubt but, well, if either of them are willing to become a guy then you can do the opposite. Fatima's cute, she's your girlfriend, and being inside her head would help you understand her a lot better which would definitely help on your just started relationship.<br/>
<br/>
But you're curious about Sienna too. She's attractive in a rough, tomboyish way sure but you wonder about her seeming hostility to you. In general you wonder about her brashness, her crassness, and the way she carries herself. If you're going to have any kind of relationship with Fatima it would pay to have Sienna on your side and maybe the best way to do that is by spending a day in her head instead.</span></div></div>


path: 113322111121112
author_id: rugal
title: Sienna Goldman: Her Struggles...
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Look, I don't want to create any problems or anything," you say, "so if Sienna wants me to take her mask then it's not a big deal."<br/>
<br/>
"Will, don't let her bully you." says Fatima with a bit of an exasperated tone.<br/>
<br/>
"She's not bullying me or anything, but I'm the new guy in the group so I'd rather not throw things into disarray."<br/>
<br/>
Sienna snorts "Yeah because you've been doing such a great fucking job of that already with that book and shit." She looks at you and for once you don't see any of her usual snideness but instead she looks deathly serious, "But you wanna take a walk in my skin that's fine by me."<br/>
<br/>
She takes her mask and hands it to you. She takes Fatima's mask for herself while you hand your own to Fatima. Jelena calls out and asks if you all are ready. The three of you look down at the masks you now hold, then you look up and look around at each other, before responding that you're as ready as you're going to be. The act of getting changed is an awkward affair. Nobody's really in the mood to see each other naked so its a lot of finding objects to hide behind, passing clothes around with your backs turned.<br/>
<br/>
When you come to after putting Sienna's mask on the first thing you note is the odd weight distribution. The sensation was a little odd when you were Jelena but Jelena's skinny and a little flatter overall so it wasn't as much of an adjustment to get used too. Sienna, on the other hand, hand, is a different matter entirely. She's not fat and it'd be a stretch to call her chubby, but she's a girl with curves: an average but nice pair of tits, wide hips, thick thighs. It's a struggle to keep your balance as you throw on the ratty jeans and tanktop.<br/>
<br/>
But you remember yesterday at Andrea's what Jelena had said and how Charles had managed to subsume himself in her personality. Close your eyes, focus. You do just that and memories, mannerisms, all of it come flooding in. It's almost sensory overload but you find that separating the wheat from the chaff is a lot easier than you'd expect. After a moment you've got the hang of it and much like the mask that's changed you're physical body you've slipped on the mental mask. Things feel right, you look at the room as it looks like everyone else is getting the hang of things as well. You're the first to speak.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck, I need some booze."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You pull Sienna's beater into a parking space in the complex's parking lot. Her dad's truck isn't there but you do see the car belonging to Diane, her father's girlfriend who recently moved in with them. At this point you've subsumed yourself completely in Sienna's mind so all you can do is hope that she's passed out while you get in and out grabbing what you need.<br/>
<br/>
It's a small apartment in a not all that great area of town, tiny and cramped. Arnie Goldman, Sienna's father, is an auto mechanic and could probably afford a place slightly nicer however he's said that he doesn't want all of his money tied up in rent. Diane could easily help as well, being a secretary for one of Gerald Turner's near ubiquitous car dealerships, but she always needs that money for other things, usually prescription pills because she's in oh so much pain from a car accident--really a minor fenderbender--from a few years ago. Really she's just an addict.<br/>
<br/>
You head to your room and fumble through grabbing a few things that you need: a guitar, a small amp, and some sheet music mostly. You get it out to your car and head back in, rooting through the refrigerator for a leftover case of beer. As you you start to head out of the kitchen that's when you see her, having apparently been roused from her slumber.<br/>
<br/>
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Diane asks, a slight slur in her speech.<br/>
<br/>
"Out." you state simply although with a defiant tone.<br/>
<br/>
"I asked you a question." comes the reply.<br/>
<br/>
"And I gave you an answer." you shoot back, "I'm going out. I'll be back later. It's none of your business."<br/>
<br/>
She glowers at you, "None of my business? As long as I'm living here..."<br/>
<br/>
"So what?" you cut her off, "I'm eighteen, you don't have any say in my life."<br/>
<br/>
"You really should start showing me a little respect, you little shit. Your dad..."<br/>
<br/>
You cut her off again, "My dad's too fucking oblivious. You don't give a shit about him and you're only here because he took you in after your old boyfriend did the right thing and kicked your ass out." She continues to glower but you press on, "You don't do shit around here except down oxy and fuck guys, and don't think I haven't seen Jim's car around here because I have," you're referring to a previous boyfriend of Diane's, "and that's it. You could toss some money our way, you could maybe cook a dinner or two, but instead you just lay around here like a weathered old ska--"<br/>
<br/>
It's her turn to cut you off this time with a hard slap across your left cheek. "You disrespectful little bitch!" she yells as she lays another slap across your face, "You want to keep running your mouth?!" another slap, "Keep it up!" another, "Come on anything else you want to get off your chest?!" and one more for good measure. That one rings your head a bit.<br/>
<br/>
The two of you glare at each other for a moment before she goes to get a glass of water and you hear her muttering to herself on the way back to her room. As you head out to your car you notice Darcy Whitehead, an Eastman student who lives in the same complex that you talk to every so often, get out of hers to head into her apartment. This isn't one of those times where you feel like talking though and as she starts to ask you about your red check you simply shoot a look at her and she backs off.<br/>
<br/>
Of course after getting in the car you realize your check isn't the only thing she was looking at; as you look in the reareview mirror to check behind you before back out that's when you notice that one of those slaps busted your lip open.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"God for real, what a fucking cunt." Andrea Kramer states as she takes a sip of her beer.<br/>
<br/>
You grunt, "I'm telling you Andi I don't feel like talking about it." you protest, "I come here to get away from that shit."<br/>
<br/>
Andi's pretty Eurasian features scrunch up, "Like you can't keep that shit in though right? They always talk about how you have to vent and everything."<br/>
<br/>
You grunt again and it's Nadine Martin who speaks of this time. "She doesn't wanna talk she doesn't wanna talk. Don't force the issue."<br/>
<br/>
You're currently taking a break from practicing at the house Andi shares with a few other people. Out of the three of you she's the oldest at 21 and a senior at Keyserling. Sienna and Nadine had met her after going to a show and seeing her with her old band. Eventually the bassist for their band left and, needing a replacement, they got in touch with her.<br/>
<br/>
Andi's band had recently broken up so she agreed to join them, the trio changing the band's name to Lady Steel. Andi, the product of a Chinese-American mother and a white father, was definitely someone who marched to the beat of her own drum. Even her personal style, right now a simple white sundress and a pair of combat boots that showed off her numerous tattoos, caused her to stand out almost wherever she went. Likewise despite her rather girlish features she had the harshest voice Sienna had ever heard which served their music well.<br/>
<br/>
Sienna had met Nadine in much the same way they had met Andi: running into one another at a show last year and striking up a friendship. A senior at Eastman, Nadine cut a slightly more boyish figure with her close-cropped hair and a body sculpted from a passion (maybe addiction at time) for fitness and a vegetarian diet. In contrast to Sienna and Andi, Nadine is generally calmer but it doesn't stop her from being an absolutely amazing, in Sienna's eyes anyway, drummer.<br/>
<br/>
Things go on like this for a little bit though practice quickly ends once night officially hits and some of Andi's roommates start coming home from class or work. So mostly it's just a lot shooting the shit, drinking, and getting prepared for the gig at Dennehy's tomorrow night. It actually makes you, internally, a bit nervous since obviously Sienna hadn't said anything about it before switching into her mask. You just have to hope that you don't fuck things up for her but you seemed to do fine during practice so hopefully it won't be a problem for the actual show.<br/>
<br/>
Eventually it hits eleven and you decide it's time to get back to the hellhole, Nadine having left about an hour beforehand. Once you get home you're relieved to see that The Bitch is apparently asleep along with your dad so you take a quick shower then head to your room. You had avoided doing anything in the shower but laying there the temptation becomes too much. Who was the last guy you had in here, you wonder, before remembering that it was Ryu Myun-heok, that Korean exchange student from Eastman, two weeks ago.<br/>
<br/>
He was definitely cute and he had energy to spare. That was definitely a good one, yeah, you think and soon you've brought yourself to orgasm. You go back to clean up, and then crawl back in bed. "God you're such a perv, Will." the Sienna part of your mind admonishes. But it also feels a bit of envy for Prescott and Fatima. She enjoys sex no doubt but some times... wouldn't it be nice to have someone to just hold? Someone to comfort you when you're down or when that cunt has cussed you out and smacked you across the face? That's really why you like the sex isn't it? You're no better than her, seeking temporary comfort to alleviate whatever problems you have. That's why you're so abrasive to everyone you meet.<br/>
<br/>
As you drift off to sleep your mind is filled up with only one thought: you're a piece shit. Maybe this'll be the night you don't wake up.</span></div></div>


path: 1133221111211121
author_id: rugal
title: ...and Her Triumphs
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You do wake up the next morning, however, and trudge through the routine of showering, getting dressed, and just plain getting ready. You head out to the kitchen to get breakfast but notice Diane sitting at the table eating a bagel. Your dad's fixing a bowl of cereal but he turns when he hears you come in. He sees you enough to where he undoubtedly sees your still messed up lip. You're expecting him to say something but instead he simply goes to the fridge to grab some milk. Diane's noticed you as well but likewise says nothing.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Well fuck this</i> you think as you head back to your room. You put some shoes on, grab your backpack and head out the door. You have some money left over from the gig last week so you'll just stop and grab some cheap fast food on the way to school.<br/>
<br/>
You're mostly disappointed in your dad. Why does he let that cunt do what she wants? She's useless, she's cheating on him, she's a self-absorbed bitch yet he seems blind to everything. Or maybe he's just willfully blind. You love your dad, you honestly believe he's a good guy, but he seems content to let that bitch wrap him around her finger. Fucking Diane, why were you even thinking like that last night? She does that shit and gets in your head. Fuck her, you may not be the best person but you're damn sure a better one than her. You're not "filling a void" or whatever, you're doing what the fuck it is <i>you</i> enjoy.<br/>
<br/>
You pull into the parking lot, finish your sausage biscuit, and get out. You notice Kelsey Blankenship and her crew give you the stinkeye as you walk past them. Snooty AP bitches, you know what they whisper behind your back. Slutenna, that's the main one. It's a good one; maybe you'll change the band name to that.<br/>
<br/>
There's Chelsea and Kendra and Gloria and Gordon and Patterson. You're just a cockteasing whore to them, especially after you kicked Patterson in the balls for getting grabby. So what if you like to fuck? That doesn't mean you want that attention unprovoked. You think Patterson would like it if you went up and fondled his balls while kissing his neck without his consent? But when he does that to you he's just being a playboy, <i>he's</i> just being Steve Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all. You shouldn't have to apologize for who you are to those assholes or that bitch or--<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Sienna." Fatima waves her hand in front of your face, you hadn't even noticed her come bounding up next to you. "So how'd everything go last night?" You turn to her and she immediately catches site of your lip, "Oh. Fuck I should've..." she briefly slips out of character before slipping back in and lowers her eyes, "I'm sorry."<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft, what the fuck ever." you say dismissively, "What about you? How'd last night go?"<br/>
<br/>
"It was... it was nice." she replies and you notice that there's a twinge of guilt in those words. "Mom made some fesenjan that was really good."<br/>
<br/>
You just nod, "Yeah, she's a pretty good cook. Me 'n Andi 'n Nadine  just went down the street to grab some cheap-ass burritos after our last break."<br/>
<br/>
"Right, the show, yeah. I should've told you I guess."<br/>
<br/>
You wave off her concerns however as Prescott comes walking over and offers a greeting while grabbing hold of Fatima's hands. He goes to lean in but both stop and cast a glance your way. "What the fuck are you guys lookin' at me for? I ain't the fun police." you say as they, a bit awkwardly, give one another a quick kiss. You let out a small laugh and smirk, "God you two are ridiculous. Prescott, bring her out to Dennehy's tonight. It's in that shitty shopping center up on Carver. You two need a real date."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So we've got the setlist memorized right?" you ask as you take a sip of your rum and coke. You're still surprised by just how much of a hard drinker Sienna can be but, well, her dad's old bandmates were the kind of upstanding gentlemen who'd laugh as a kid sipped beer. It started even more in earnest once she started playing music herself a few years ago. As you finish you muse that that's the advantage of having a buddy who's the legal drinking age.<br/>
<br/>
"We <i>did</i> but we've got to cut a song." Andi grumbles, "Those assholes in Norrin Rad! went long on their set."<br/>
<br/>
You grunt, "God those guys are pricks. Fucking hacks too." You sigh and scan the setlist, "Shit I dunno... cut May's Decemberist Romance then. That's the longest one anyway."<br/>
<br/>
The show itself goes surprisingly, to you anyway, well. You subsume yourself even more deeply into Sienna's personality and at times it feels like you're on autopilot. It's a very hard and heavy thrash style that her group plays and her and Andi are both generally animated on stage. Lot's of movement, stomping, you jump down into the crowd at one point during a song. and occasionally letting belting out a few backup vocals on your own.<br/>
<br/>
It's not the prettiest affair. Sienna's not some expert guitar player and the whole thing is, at times, sloppy and raw but it's loud, fast, and aggressive which is practically the entire point and the crowd eats it up; it's pure energy. Right after one song you briefly spot the singer of the previous band, just enough to flip him off, before going into your next. Lady Steel's a popular band around town and you can see why even if, personally, the music wouldn't be to your taste if you were on the other side of the stage.<br/>
<br/>
Still you did harbor vague notions of being a rock star at one point and as the last song ends and you and the others head off stage covered in sweat you're happy that, for a brief moment, you got to experience it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So yeah, that was really good." Prescott says as the two of you sit in your room back at the apartment a little bit after the show. Prescott, or rather Fatima, had wanted to get the chance to talk to you a little bit one on one before you switched back to your regular lives. Your dad and Diane are, thankfully, gone, so you're not going to have to bring anyone in to deal with that shit show.<br/>
<br/>
"Easy as fuck." you reply with a grin, "It's really fucking amazing what these things can do."<br/>
<br/>
"You're still kind of absorbed in her personality, I take it." he replies.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I guess. Kinda makes it easier to deal with, you know, shit."<br/>
<br/>
"She really should've told you." he says with a sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever. I know what I said yesterday but part of the reason I agreed on taking Sienna's mask was that I wanted to get in her head." you say as you flop onto the bed. "I figured if me 'n you were gonna have any kind of relationship I'd need to understand her too. You two are damn near inseparable, after all, and I didn't want to feel like I was fucking things up."<br/>
<br/>
"What'd you learn?" asks Prescott.<br/>
<br/>
"I learned that her mom walked out. I learned that her dad is, to be blunt, kind of spineless. I learned that Diane's a cunt." you pause and sit back up, "Don't tell her I said any of this by the way but I learned that she's self-loathing, that she struggles with relationships because she's always felt like she's alone outside of you. But I also learned that despite all that, she carries on. She refuses to let those same problems overwhelm her and that whatever she feels in her mind and heart she fights through it pushes forward. I learned that she has some pretty cool bandmates and one great friend with, loathe as she is to admit it, someone who seems to make her happy so he's probably a good person."<br/>
<br/>
You and Prescott look at each other and without provocation you grab his hands and pull him in. Neither of you resist as your lips press together, as your tongues probe one another's mouths. After a moment you pull away and look at one another. You've subsumed yourself in Sienna's personality once more.<br/>
<br/>
<i>He really is kind of cute and he's shown a lot more confidence than when he first joined up. He seems like a genuinely nice guy, he makes Fatima happy, and if that's the case then she's lucky to have him. But why couldn't that be me? Why can't I have someone to give me dopey little kisses to cheer me up? Why can't I... why can't I have him right here, right now? Shit why, CAN'T I have him right here, right now?</i><br/>
<br/>
"Wi--Sienna..." Prescott says and it looks like the rush of hormones and emotions has caused Fatima to dive deep into your own personality as well.<br/>
<br/>
You notice the bulge in his pants and to his surprise you reach a hand out and lay it there. His eyes flash in surprise but you notice there's a hunger there as well. You shoot him your own hungry smile.<br/>
<br/>
"I also learned that I am really, really fucking horny right now."</span></div></div>


path: 11332211112111211
author_id: wordsmitty
title: A learning experience
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>His eyes are a mixture of desire and confusion. It has him paralyzed between a teenage boy's lusting body and Fatima's shock at her friend - whether Sienna or Will, she can't tell - but the physical body she has is taking control anyway. His face is full of color from the heat his hormones are creating, and he involuntarily sucks in his lower lip, parting his mouth slightly to moisten it. You watch his tongue barely peek out as it glides slowly across.<br/>
<br/>
The mask's instincts of Sienna watch and take control as you lean back and rip your t-shirt over your head with her much practiced dexterity tossing it aside along with your bra. There's only a flicker in your head that you shouldn't do this.<br/>
<br/>
<i>It's that pesky, naive, considerate boy's attitude,</i> Sienna's conscience tells you as it pushes you on. You're her now and react as she would. <i>Let's see if he's as good as you thought he might be for Fatima.</i><br/>
<br/>
His eyes have rested on your chest just as you knew they would. You study his face watching his nose slightly flare as his breathing accelerates. Your own breathing is deeper as your breasts ebb and flow in hypnotic rhythm. Slowly, you move your hands forward to his as you speak.<br/>
<br/>
"You can feel it, can't you?" His eyes look up and lock on yours. "This is what you want, isn't it?" You softly continue the seduction as you guide his hands to your breasts. His palms seem cold and a bit oily obviously from perspiring fear, but you know how to ease that. You've done it before with shy, reluctant boys, firing their desire and shoving them into you so you can feel something slide up and down inside you. You've had to wrestle with some to get them rubbing the right place, and you've gone crazy when they did whether it be their shaft or tongue.<br/>
<br/>
All Sienna's thoughts push you harder to have him release your horniness. One hand stops forcing his to massage your breast and slithers up his arm to run through his hair. His eyes hang tight to yours as you pull his head closer until he suddenly freezes solid.<br/>
<br/>
"Sienna, stop! I, I'm dating F-Fatima."<br/>
<br/>
"But this is what you want. I can see it in your eyes. She's not going to give it to you, not for a long time, and you're not going to try." You pause and then smirk, "You're not going to try because I threatened you to be nice to her."<br/>
<br/>
His breathing is even more rapid now, and his eyes shift from side to side but fail to escape since you're nose-to-nose. He could obviously pull away; you aren't that strong, so you know you have him. All you have to do is reel him in figuratively, then literally.<br/>
<br/>
"No," he murmurs then adds more emphatically, "No, that's not why?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm here - now - ready, and so are you," you breathe into his face. "We can do this. That's what you want, right? A naked girl writhing under you as you pulse pleasure into both of us?" You pause enjoying your control wash over his face. Then you add the kicker, "Be nice to me like you would Fatima. We don't even have to let Fatima know."<br/>
<br/>
A couple moments pause before he shouts, "What?" then pushes you off. "I already know."<br/>
<br/>
He stands and glares at you causing your sensuous smile to fade along with Sienna's personality. You suddenly feel terrible. You were acting no better than that slut Diane, thinking of no one but yourself. You're just using the sex to cover all the things in your life that are wrong and to try to forget them. <i>You aren't that,</i> the Sienna in you shouts. Then your own, Will Prescott, memories, attitudes and emotions come forth.<br/>
<br/>
"Will, ... Fatima, I, I'm sorry. I don't know what ..."<br/>
<br/>
"Save it," he snaps then relents as his face relaxes. "It's not like I didn't have the same thoughts when we came here alone." He pauses and looks very thoughtful off into a dark corner of the room. You remain quiet staring up for half a minute until he continues. "It's part of what we agreed to," he sighs looking back down with a smile. "There's things about each of us that we would never tell and never know any other way."<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly, you feel very exposed and scared. She has every single last one of your memories - ones that you've never shared and would never want to with anyone. You haven't ever looked back into Sienna’s head very far, only enough to fit the situation, but she has some deep, very, very dark secrets that flash quickly, including taking boys that showed an interest in Fatima. You blink hard and push those away as Will continues.<br/>
<br/>
"Doing this makes us see and understand each other better ... hopefully," he chuckles and sits down beside you. "Sometimes there are things that we, behind the mask, might do differently and better for the person we're pretending to be." He smiles away then shakes his head before turning back. "I know how Will felt, feels, about Lisa. I almost acted on it today even though I, Will, had told her he was dating Fatima. I can tell what she wants, too, and what she's doing. From the person inside here," he points to himself, "to the person inside there," he playfully pokes your nipple sending a shiver through you, "I would never do that, and I hope you'll understand when you see it from behind that mask."<br/>
<br/>
The words seemed to have melted you, and all you wanted to do was hug and kiss and ... <i>Fuck! No not. ... Damn it!</i><br/>
<br/>
He laughs, "I know what you're thinking and what Sienna has done in the past. As much as I would like to do it, and this body really, really does, Will would never go through with it."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I bet the little fucker would be too guilt ridden to show his face again. Would probably make a mask and become someone else to get away," you quip half talking down as Sienna and half in jest as yourself. You both chuckle. "But damn, it sure would be nice to have someone that caring and loyal," you finish sinking back into Sienna's emotions.<br/>
<br/>
"You will, some day, Sienna." He smiles and hangs over you for just a couple moments before giving you a quick kiss on the lips. "But it won't be Will Prescott," he adds jumping up. "I can let myself out. See you tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
You watch and realize what a wonderful friend you and Sienna have, and you - both Sienna and Will - seriously hope Will Prescott can live up to being the best for Fatima. As you stare at the ceiling in thought, one thing keeps coming back from this little encounter. One truth that overwhelms everything else no matter where your mind wanders. One thing that you never would have learned without the book and the masks and switching as you've done. Sienna gets extremely aroused - like now, and she really does like getting released, and you agree with her.<br/>
<br/>
* * * *<br/>
<br/>
By the time you're up the next morning, Dad and the bitch are gone again, thank goodness. Sienna doesn't want to deal with them, and you'd rather not go through that again, but it did give you a new perspective on her life. You have very few friends that you know what their home life is like and usually imagine it's about the same as your own. No, mostly you think they have it better with nice siblings, a loving mom and supportive, non-overbearing father.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yeah, Will Prescott is definitely naive with too straight of morals. A virgin too shy to take advantage of the best opportunity he'll get for a long time and leaves me to myself.</i><br/>
<br/>
With Sienna's thoughts at the forefront, you toss off your clothes and head to the bathroom. In a nice hot shower, Sienna takes over relaxing herself, and you push aside your own guilty misgivings knowing this is what she would do anyway.<br/>
<br/>
* * * *<br/>
<br/>
Everyone's gathered back at the old elementary school just before noon Saturday after having switched back to the real selves,  supposedly. There's no way to really tell if they did or didn't since no one shows the masks, but you know you, Fatima and Sienna did over at her place before coming. Each of you had tried to fill in the other whose mask you had worn of what interactions had taken place, at least important ones. You were glad you didn't have to tell Sienna about you and Fatima as Will nor what you'd let the mask lead you to do afterwords or in the shower when alone.<br/>
<br/>
"I know we're worried about not being able to keep up with what our physical forms had done before we changed back," Jelena announces excitedly when the last arrives. "I made an interesting discovery: when I curiously put my own mask back on, it refreshed my memories with what Drea had done as me."<br/>
<br/>
Fatima and you look at each as most of the others were doing with embarrassed, if not guilty expressions. When you turn to Sienna, she gives you a smirk.<br/>
<br/>
"Shit, you couldn't have done worse than I would have myself. Almost makes me wish I had done something to give your life a little excitement," she grins at Fatima before turning to you. "Maybe yours will be."<br/>
<br/>
You avoid her look as Jelena continues, "You can do that later. But what about what's next in the book?"<br/>
<br/>
Fatima and you look at each other before she offers, "I just looked at it briefly until I noticed one of the words meant cemetery."<br/>
<br/>
"Um," you quietly mumble feeling all eyes turn on you. "The book's still at my house."<br/>
<br/>
"Well," Jelena sighs. "I guess that will have to wait. We can try switching with someone else unless you can go get it quickly."<br/>
<br/>
You'd actually like to switch with Fatima and get to know her better, but that means she'll get to find out what you did after she left, when alone as Sienna, which may be worse than your attempted seduction. Then again, you're not sure if you want to get involved with a cemetery.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11332211112111212
author_id: rugal
title: Gotta Get Away
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What are you...?" is all he can get out as you continue looking at him.<br/>
<br/>
"C'mon, you feel it right?" you ask with a smile. You take your hand hand off of his pants and then proceed to take your pants off. You don't know how much of it is Sienna and how much of it is you but goddamn are you ready to get laid. "You wanna do it right? Because I do. I'm ready to and I just..." you stop and look at his face. You see the desire there, clear as day. If she's got your mind then she knows exactly how you feel but you also look and see uncertainty and doubt. And <i>you</i> don't know if that's coming from your mind as well or from Fatima directly.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't fucking know anymore." you sigh as you pull back and cross your arms. "You were right, back then, this was all a shitty idea."<br/>
<br/>
"Sienna." he starts before catching himself, "Will, it wasn't. It's brought us all a little more together. It brought <i>us</i> together. I know I had reservations and I still kind of do but if nothing else, up to now, it's been worth it."<br/>
<br/>
You look back up at him and notice his warm smile. That one definitely isn't Will Prescott. You smile back at him. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right I guess. Fuck, I dunno, my head's all fucked right now." you sigh, "For real, don't tell Sienna I told you any of that stuff about her."<br/>
<br/>
Will just laughs, however, "Really? I mean, come on. Sienna and me have been friends since the third grade. You think I <i>don't</i> know all that stuff or that she hasn't told any of it to me? Trust me, I know the deal with her by now." he smirks, "But if you don't want me to tell her fine, I won't. So are you gonna put your pants back on or..."<br/>
<br/>
You're sitting there right now in a t-shirt and your underwear. "It's late and I'm gonna sleep like this anyway so nah, fuck it." you reply.<br/>
<br/>
The two of you continue chatting for a little bit before he eventually leaves. It's past midnight at this point so you head over to the bathroom to wash up a bit before heading off to bed. You catch sight of your face in the mirror: the pert nose, pouty lips, dark brown eyes, the close-cropped platinum hair--dyed of course since you can see the dark roots--and slight bags under the eyes.<br/>
<br/>
It's a physical version of the contrast that you've experienced over the last day and a half: striking but with a level of weariness.<br/>
<br/>
You trudge back to your room and collapse onto your bed pulling the covers over you. You're worn out from everything that's happened and everything you've experienced in this short time frame, both the highs and the lows. Like you've been doing constantly during this time you lose yourself in Sienna's personality.<br/>
<br/>
God what the fuck were you doing earlier? Are you that desperate to get laid that you're willing to fuck your best friend's boyfriend like that? Well it wasn't really him under there it was... well it <i>was</i> your best friend. But for a moment there you weren't thinking that were you? You were thinking that it was him and you wanted him on top of you. You don't love him or anything, you barely know him, but you look at him and Fatima and... and what? You get jealous, right?<br/>
<br/>
God, that's how shitty and self-centered you are. Fatima's like a sister to you and instead of just being happy for her you have to act like a bitch to him. He wasn't good enough for her, you thought, he wasn't just going to leave her. Just like that prick DeMarcus Simmons. He'd leave just like your useless mom did. Just like your dad's "friends" did. Just like how your dad pretty much did once that bitch entered the picture. Just like Myun-heok and Adam Karter and Justin Roth and the other flings. Maybe those gossipy shithead are right and you really are just a slut.<br/>
<br/>
But fuck them, why should you feel bad for liking what you like? Better to be honest about what you enjoy than try and hide it under facades of moral superiority and upstandingness like Kelsey. Or by keeping a guy's balls in your purse like Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
Why the fuck does everyone else get to be happy? Why can't you find someone like Andi did? She's been dating the same guy for six years and young or not they're getting married after they graduate. On the flipside look at Jelena. She doesn't seem to have anyone and yet she seems like she couldn't care less. You've got your band and your friends and you'll be away from all the drama the cunt brings you so why can't you be happy with that?<br/>
<br/>
As you hear the front door open you're thankful that sleep comes. You'll be out before she can start on you so by all accounts it's been a decent day.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's around lunch time on Saturday and the six of you are gathered back at the elementary school. You're back to yourself and so is everyone else. It's a bit weird adjusting although catching up was surprisingly easy. Jelena, sharp as a tack as always, had the observation that if putting on someone else's mask gives you everything in their mind what would happen if you put your own mask on?<br/>
<br/>
As it turns out putting your own mask on is a good way to get up to speed on the goings-on in your life while you've been away. Especially because, and maybe it's because it's your own mind in the thing, unlike someone else's mask the memories don't fade. So you now get to experience the awkwardness of last night in Sienna's room from your own perspective. You get to see the show from last night as well from your own and the intense makeout session "you" and "Fatima" engaged in after the show but before "Will" found you and wanted to go back to Sienna's apartment.<br/>
<br/>
It's all a bit disorienting but no moreso than anything else you've done over the last week. It's just another step in understanding what exactly this book can do. The book...<br/>
<br/>
"So yeah, what about the book?" Andrea asks. Seemingly reading your thoughts.<br/>
<br/>
"Right we should probably look at it." Jelena states, "Did you look at it at all?"<br/>
<br/>
You look at her, then over at Fatima who looks over at you. You point at yourself in a "who me" manner but it's Fatima who says that she didn't touch it while she was you and a quick look through of the last few days confirms that. Not that it matters anyway, the book's still back at your place. There's a bit of a resigned tone in her voice but Jelena says that they can go a few more days without looking at it so everyone can get readjusted. Everyone's given their own masks back and then goodbyes are said.<br/>
<br/>
As everyone separates you ask Fatima if she wants to go to lunch but she declines as she's got a thing with her family.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Prescott!" Sienna calls out, "If you're offering grub I'll take you up on it. You invaded my privacy and ate like shit while you were me so the least you can do is get me some food to make it up."<br/>
<br/>
You groan but you really don't have a counter-argument so it's the odd look of you and Sienna heading off to lunch together at the Flying Saucer.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So yeah, like I said yesterday, sorry." Sienna says inbetween bites of her sandwich, "I really shouldn't have thrown you into that situation like that. It's like tossing a baby into the deep end."<br/>
<br/>
You shrug, "I wanted to understand you better, now I do." you say after taking a sip of your water. "Thursday evening was the only time it was really bad. We didn't really cross paths Friday and she was still out when I left this morning."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it happens." she replies as she idly stirs her coffee, "Some times it's only once a week but there's always gonna be a blow up and it's never gonna be pretty. Some time's it's worse than that but not much and not a lot."<br/>
<br/>
"You let her just do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"What the fuck do you expect me to do, Prescott?" she snorts, "I'm eighteen, I'm a legal fucking adult, so it's not like she's going to jail for child abuse or some shit."<br/>
<br/>
"Assault and battery." you reply.<br/>
<br/>
She grunts, it's a sound you've gotten used to in the last day and a half. "I'm gone in a few months. Fatima's going to Keyserling for nursing. Everyone around here gets in there anyway so I'll enroll, Me 'n her are gonna get a small apartment, maybe with Nadine. We've got this shit worked out." She takes another bite of her sandwich. "Besides, I don't need cops showing up there. Dad goes through enough shit with that bitch, I don't need to add to it any more than I do."<br/>
<br/>
"So what, you're just gonna keep quiet until June rolls around?" you ask. "And what happens if you lose it and smack <i>her</i> around?"<br/>
<br/>
"I've been dealing with this shit for a year. I can do another nine months. I get what you're trying to do. You're trying to be the good guy and you're trying to help but I don't need it, okay?" she says with a hint of irritation. She looks down at her sandwich and then back up at you, "Or maybe I do. I don't fucking know, all I know is that day and a half I spent as Fatima... it was nice. It was real nice getting away from all the bullshit."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, whatever shit you go through I enjoyed getting away for a bit too." you say as you take another sip of water, "The concert, Andi and Nadine, that was fun."<br/>
<br/>
"Right, yeah. That's why I'm gonna ask you a big favor, Prescott, a real fucking big favor." she shifts a bit in her seat, "Switch masks with me."<br/>
<br/>
"Switch masks?"<br/>
<br/>
"Did I fucking stutter?" she asks rhetorically, "You can spend some more time as me, I'll spend some time as you. Simple enough."<br/>
<br/>
You lean back, "You wanna switch? For how long?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno, a few days? A week? Like we'll do it today and then we can do it again every so often." She looks at you and there's no edge in her expression, only something that looks pleading, "Prescott. Will. I just... I need a break. Just for a bit."</span></div></div>


path: 113322111121112121
author_id: rugal
title: Drunk Afternoon
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I dunno," you say as you look down at your half-eaten sandwich, "I mean like you said that's a big favor. And it's not like my life is just dandy and perfect either. You'll probably have to deal with assholes like Geoff Mansfield and David Kirkham."<br/>
<br/>
"AP shits and bullies. I can deal with them." she says a bit quietly.<br/>
<br/>
"My friends can be kind of annoying dickbags too." you add.<br/>
<br/>
"I said I can deal with it." she replies, this time with a little bit more conviction.<br/>
<br/>
"You'd also have every two-bit bully and asshole in the school gunning for you too."<br/>
<br/>
"I fucking told you I can deal with it!" she exclaims with more fire.<br/>
<br/>
You look her in the eye, "What about Fatima? You'd basically be dating your best friend for a few days."<br/>
<br/>
That causes Sienna to look a bit uncomfortable but she recovers and looks at you with steely resolve. "I've got the memory of you trying to literally fuck yourself in my head, you know." She eyes you with amusement as it's now your turn to squirm a bit, "If I can get over the thought of placing my hand on your cock and you wanting the hot beef injection I can live with sucking face with Fatima."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright so what about me? You just kind of sprung this on me." You eye her up, "You don't think that's maybe a little selfish? Give me your life because mine's shit?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh fuck off, that's why I asked you first." First she throws up her hands in frustration, "You know what? I shouldn't have brought this up. That was retarded." Then it's crossing her arms as she leans back in her chair, "Fucking asshole." she mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, I didn't say no did I?" you reply causing her to look back at you, "Maybe this is retarded too but I'll do it."<br/>
<br/>
"You..."<br/>
<br/>
"I had your thoughts, I was privy to all of them. Everything that you keep buried in the back of your mind. Everything you keep locked away deep down." your gaze is serious. You're definitely a little surprised by what comes out of your mouth but you feel that it's best to give off even the illusion of being able to stand firm, "The specific words might be gone but what I felt? That doesn't go away." Your eyes are locked onto Sienna's now, "I want to help and if that's what I have to do then that's what I'll do."<br/>
<br/>
Her own gaze remains transfixed on yours and you can tell that for once she doesn't have an immediate response. You can see her trying to formulate a response and then her lips stretch into a small smirk. "Seriously. All that?"<br/>
<br/>
"It sounds good doesn't it?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Sienna breaks out into laughter, "God you are such a fucking dork, Prescott, I swear to god. How many shitty comic books did you have to read to talk like that?" she asks teasingly.<br/>
<br/>
"Years of D&amp;D games, actually." you retort.<br/>
<br/>
Sienna laughs a little bit more but once she stops she looks at you and you can see a genuine sense of relief.<br/>
<br/>
"So how long are we going to do this?" you ask and are met with a shrug. "Until Wednesday? We'll see how it goes from there." you say after a moment of thought.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, Wednesday, sure." she replies before giving you a small smile, "Thanks."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Sienna!" Adam Karter's wide-armed greeting turns into a hug as he walks up to you. You manage to wriggle your way free of his clutches however to which he replies with wide-eyed shock. "Sienna, what happened? We used to be so close and now you're going to just push me away?" The faux-sincerity is met by you flipping the bird. "Already did." he replies, so you use both hands. "So you're looking for round two? Well who am I to--"<br/>
<br/>
"Adam, enough." he's cut off by the voice, and fist as she lays into his arm, of Chris Yves. "Glad you made it, Sienna. You too Nadine."<br/>
<br/>
Nadine follows in right behind you and you take a quick mental moment to compare and contrast her and Chris. Both lesbians, both rather boyish in appearance, but where Chris is wiry with harsher features and clothes that, at times, hang a bit loosely Nadine is more toned and more than a fair bit taller--and rather tall for a girl period--with clothes that seem to fit in that just perfect way. Where Chris has the look of a grimy DIY punk, Nadine looks more like an androgynous new wave throwback. Both in your, or rather Sienna's, experience are fairly astute as well but where Chris is a lot more brash Nadine is quiet.<br/>
<br/>
It's a quality Sienna admires in both girls though especially in Chris. <i>Why can't I be more like that? Why do I come off as such a bitch where she doesn't?</i><br/>
<br/>
So naturally when you had gotten the call from Chris for a small get together at the Warehouse while spending the early Sunday afternoon working on new material with Nadine you jumped. Saturday had been a rare day without any sparks at all between you and Diane so maybe you were feeling a bit bored; <i>God, do I actually enjoy that shit deep down?</i> you pondered. The only regret was that you weren't able to invite Andi out as her and her fiance had a tendency to keep Sunday as a day for themselves.<br/>
<br/>
So here you were spending your Sunday at the Warehouse drinking beer and shooting the shit with Karter, Chris, Nadine, and a few others; guys from both Chris' and Karter's bands and their girls mainly.<br/>
<br/>
The Warehouse is, well, just that. It's an old and disused situated at the edge of the old industrial district among an endless number of buildings whose ages have started showing as the bad economy and slow decline in manufacturing choked the life out of the district much like it has most everywhere else around the country. So naturally the buildings have turned into gathering places for high schoolers and college students to hang out, get drunk, get high, and party away from prying eyes. It also means that the buildings tend to be home to any number of squatters, winos, and other associated characters. The Warehouse just happens to be the most popular as it's the least prone to those types, or maybe its popularity is what keeps those types away.<br/>
<br/>
"What this place really needs is something big." Karter says as he stands up an hour, and a few beers, later. "I mean lookit it: she's a big gal and we come in so small that it just leaves her unsatisfied."<br/>
<br/>
"What the fuck are you even on about?" Chris asks as she watches Karter pace away from the group.<br/>
<br/>
"What I'm saying is that big girls need more lovin' too. A place like this needs a party."<br/>
<br/>
"It has plenty." you add.<br/>
<br/>
"But that's all small time, Si!" he exclaims.<br/>
<br/>
"I've fucking told you not to call me that." you grumble though he doesn't hear you.<br/>
<br/>
"I mean think about it: me, you, Chris, everyone here, everyone not here. We're seniors." he stops pacing and turns around throwing his arms wide, "We blow this shit out! We do the biggest party this place has seen. We let all those mother fuckers coming after us know that <i>we</i> were here. That this place belongs to us. We do it up and we do it up right."<br/>
<br/>
"You've seen too many movies." Chris sighs, "You're out of your goddamn mind."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe," he grins, "but c'mon! It sounds like a good idea right?"<br/>
<br/>
And so this is how the rest of the afternoon progresses. Random tangents, boasts, reflections on life, love, and the pursuit of happiness. By the time evening rolls around you're more than a little buzzed but man that's the beauty of this shit right? You open up, you get peoples' true thoughts and feelings. At the Warehouse it's another drunk afternoon and for you when you're among friends that's the best afternoon you can really ask for.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Naturally your good mood is ruined by your arrival home. It starts almost as soon as you walk in the door with Diane haranguing you about missing dinner and other garbage. It's just some fast food and there's a few burgers left over so whatever, you'll throw them in the microwave it's not a big deal. But of course with you Diane will never miss an opportunity to make a mountain out of a mole hill.<br/>
<br/>
"Where were you even at all day?!" she exclaims.<br/>
<br/>
"I told you I was out, it's none of your business." You root through the fridge for something to drink and grab some water, "Where's dad?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's taking a nap, not that you care." she glares, "You're never around."<br/>
<br/>
"I am, just not when you're here." you reply as you throw the burgers into the microwave.<br/>
<br/>
"You're just... you're so antagonistic!" comes the reply, Diane adding a bit of extra whine to her voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, so are you." you shoot back as the microwave goes off. You go to make your way to your room working your way around the dining table but Diane blocks the hall. "Move."<br/>
<br/>
You notice her sniff, "I knew it. You were out drinking with all those other scumbag friends of yours."<br/>
<br/>
That just about does it. "First, you're not my mom. Second, don't say shit about my friends. Third," you try shove by her but she holds firm, "move."<br/>
<br/>
"So you can go pass out in your room? That's what you do."<br/>
<br/>
"Diane, I'm not in the mood now fucking move!"<br/>
<br/>
You try to shove past her one more time and this time she seems to relent just enough to let you pass. However your foot catches hers, and you're not sure whether that's on purpose on her part or not and you wind up stumbling, dropping the plate and water, the last thing you see being the wall of the narrow hallway as your head smacks into it. </span></div></div>


path: 1133221111211121211
author_id: rugal
title: Ashamed of the Story I Told
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's not enough to knock you unconscious but it definitely <i>is</i> enough to make you see stars as you pull yourself up and sit down, back against the wall and hand on your forehead. Yeah, that's probably gonna leave a knot. Great, just fucking wonderful. Diane, for her part, doesn't seem to pay you all that much attention as the commotion has been enough to rouse your dad from his sleep.<br/>
<br/>
"What the hell is going on out here?"<br/>
<br/>
Arnie Goldman is a man who looks a good decade older than his forty-two years would suggest. Before becoming a mechanic he played in a popular local band, drinking, screwing, and doing more than his fair share of drugs. Your mother was a groupie who got shotgunned into marriage when she was pregnant. Eventually she grew bored of your dad, started sleeping around, and eventually left when you were six; you haven't even gotten so much as a happy birthday since.<br/>
<br/>
Your dad, who always had a thing for cars, got out of music and got a job as a mechanic to help raise you. But the years of living a small time rock star lifestyle combined with the stress of being a single dad took its toll, one look at his gut, receding hair, and sunken and weary looking face will tell anyone that.<br/>
<br/>
"Sienna? What happened?" he asks as he finally notices you.<br/>
<br/>
You start to speak but the bitch makes sure to jump in. "I'll tell you what happened: she was with those loser friends of her, got drunk, and lost her balance."<br/>
<br/>
"What?! That's not--" you start to protest.<br/>
<br/>
"So you're saying you weren't out drinking?" Diane sniffs, "I could smell it on your breath."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah I was but I tripped because <i>you</i> wouldn't move your big fucking clown foot!"<br/>
<br/>
"Sienna," your dad starts and you know what's coming, "don't talk to Diane like that."<br/>
<br/>
"Dad!" you call out but he seems to be having none of it.<br/>
<br/>
He shakes his head, "Look, honey, you know what I've said about you and your drinking."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm <i>fine</i>!" you point an accusatory finger at Diane, "It's her that's the problem!"<br/>
<br/>
"Arnie, dear, you see how she is. She just doesn't take responsibility for her own actions. It's always somebody else's fault." She lays on the innocent victim act extra thick and the worst part is that it works.<br/>
<br/>
"Sienna, enough." The tone in his voice is admonishing, like he's speaking to a child, "You've only got a few months left before you graduate so please just try and get along with Diane until then."<br/>
<br/>
With that he heads back to his room and you're left completely dumbstruck. You remember your dad introducing you to all kinds of music, him teaching you guitar, and the time he took a week off of work even if he couldn't really afford it when you had chicken pox. He was probably never going to win Dad of the Year and he was probably ill-equipped to deal with raising a kid on his own but he did his best and you genuinely love him for it.<br/>
<br/>
So to see him effectively turned against you by a woman who's hated your guts from day one, seeing you as a threat to his attention (and thus her free ride), is too much. "Where are you you going?!" she demands as you grab your keys off the table.<br/>
<br/>
"Out." is all you say before slamming the door behind you. This draws the attention of a neighbor but you ignore it. Fuck it, let 'em look.<br/>
<br/>
As you pull out of the parking lot you realize you want to talk to someone. Fatima? No, she's heard your stuff enough so there's not really much she can say. Jelena? You never really go to her with your problems, or rather Sienna doesn't (and you've found it easier to just let Sienna's identity take the lead and think of yourself as her), which would seem odd and probably mean you'd have to reveal what you and Sienna agreed to. Part of that agreement was not telling anybody.<br/>
<br/>
No there's only one person you can really talk to, you realize, so you make your way across town and then eventually just outside of it. You pull to a stop in front of a house that you haven't seen in a good half a week and knock on the door. A shaggy-haired boy in his early teens answers.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey is, uh, is Will here?" you ask Robert.<br/>
<br/>
He eyes you for a moment before turning around and calling upstairs, "HEY WILL, YOU GOT A GIRL HERE TO SEE YOU!" You can hear footsteps down the stairs as Robert closes the door most of the way as he goes to meet them. "You break up with that other girl? That sucks, she was cute. This one's kinda trashy." you're able to hear him say.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Little fucking asshole</i> is all you can think.<br/>
<br/>
You hear Will tell him to shut up as he pulls the door, "Oh, Sienna! Um, what's up?" he asks as he steps outside and closes the door.<br/>
<br/>
And that's when you open the valve on all the emotion that's been bottled up as you pull him into a hug and do something Sienna hasn't done in a long time: cry.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Tougher than you thought, huh?" Will asks as the two of you sit in the back of his truck out by the river.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh, "Even with your brain I just... I don't know how you do it."<br/>
<br/>
"Well like you said, you've got my brain in there. You should know." he replies simply.<br/>
<br/>
"God that first night, I just lost myself in it. All I could think of was that I'm a real piece of shit."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe I am, I dunno." he says taking a moment, "Some times I kind of think maybe I do deserve it. All the shit Diane gives me and everything those snobs whisper about me. I talk a good game but some times, like tonight probably, it's just... it's really fucking hard. Especially with dad and what that bitch has done." He takes a deep breath, "I've never told this to anyone but I guess it's pointless hiding it from you huh? But yeah I actually thought of just ending it a few months ago."<br/>
<br/>
You look through Sienna's memories and you come across it. It was near the end of the last school year, an incident not unlike what happened Thursday night, her dad not seeing it and not believing her. This happened close to the same time as Patterson's fondling and neck kissing. It was a combo that had her sitting in her room, door locked, with a bottle of Diane's pills. She ultimately decided against it. With Patterson she just let the "crazy bitch mad about some cat calls" story spread, after all who'd believe her? Only Fatima knew the truth. But this? Well not even Fatima knew that.<br/>
<br/>
"But you didn't." you say, looking down as you pull your knees up, "You're a strong person."<br/>
<br/>
"No I'm not." the reply is matter of fact.<br/>
<br/>
"You are. You just need to be more open."<br/>
<br/>
"That's why I'm not. It's easier to say nothing and let everyone think whatever they want about me." he takes another moment, "I'm a fucking coward."<br/>
<br/>
You place your hand on top of his causing him to turn to you. "You're not. You're a stronger than you think you are. Most people would've cracked. Most people in that situation would've gone all the way. You didn't."<br/>
<br/>
And then, seemingly on autopilot, you place your other hand on his cheek and lean in to kiss him. It's not like what happened Friday night with Fatima under your mask. This time it's slower, less hungry and more tender. More meaningful. You take off the jeans you're wearing as well as your underwear and he does the same. You lay back, he enters you, and for at least the next few moments you <i>are</i> Sienna Goldman, mind and body.<br/>
<br/>
Sienna's an aggressive partner, more than most can handle, but this time you lay low on the aggression. The movements of your hips and his are slow but steady. He's gentle but, maybe because who's behind the mask would know Sienna's body better than anyone, masterful. He knows how to move and just what to do to make you feel amazing. And then it's over, it's the best climax you've reached in a long time, and you wrap your arms around him tightly.<br/>
<br/>
"What the fuck did we just do?" you ask quietly. "What the fuck did <i>I</i> just do?"<br/>
<br/>
"We don't tell Fatima, right?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I... I don't know. Maybe for now, I guess." you reply, "I asked her out because Jelena told me that someone needs to make her feel better. I was, I am, I like that. But.." you pause trying to think of the right words. He begins kissing your neck.<br/>
<br/>
But you've spent all this time in Sienna and have seen, experienced, and felt what she goes through. Everything that she keeps hidden that causes her pain. Jelena said that you needed to make Fatima feel better but what just happened... Sienna's mind is telling you how great it was. How comforting it was. It wasn't just sex to her, it was making love. And that makes you feel good. You realize that maybe you want to give Sienna that comfort that she lacks and desperately wants.<br/>
<br/>
Having two minds, two sets of emotions, the fact they're pretty much cheating on your girlfriend and that a part of you doesn't feel that bad about it because that part of you feels like maybe <i>this</i> is the person you should try and be with... it's all confusing. You need to talk to someone. You need advice. You can't talk to Fatima but... Jelena? Andi? Anyone?<br/>
<br/>
As round two begins you're left wondering: what the fuck are you supposed to do?</span></div></div>


path: 11332211112111212111
author_id: rugal
title: The 15th
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Once the deed is done a second time Will and yourself sit in the bed of the truck. You're sitting crosslegged, your left arm resting on your leg and your forehead resting in your hand. You've got a headache but it's no longer because of hitting your head. It's been silent for a while and after a few minutes it becomes unbearable. "What do we do?" you ask, though you're not quite sure if you're specifically asking him or just trying to break the silence for a moment, "What the fuck are we supposed to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." comes the reply.<br/>
<br/>
"We... we're her boyfriend and her best friend and we..." you take a second to try and compose yourself thought it does little good. "Do we tell her?"<br/>
<br/>
The answer is repeated. "I don't know."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know!?" you exclaim, "But you said--"<br/>
<br/>
"I know what the fuck I said, alright!" he yells back before calming himself, "But I was just... I was caught in the moment. I wasn't thinking clearly. We both weren't. I can't keep it from her. I don't want to hurt her but..."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't think she's gonna be hurt either way?" you ask, "And caught up in the moment? What were you that eager to try out your new cock or something? You've fucked plenty of--"<br/>
<br/>
He cuts you off, "Don't fucking complete that." His voice is stern when he says it. "I just... I've got two brains going at it up here and I thought... Well shit, I don't know what I thought and that's the whole problem."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Yeah, I get you. It's the same thing. I just got so caught up in the moment and..." you take a quick glance at him, "Fuck why's it gotta be so fucking complicated? I didn't mean for any of this shit to happen. I should've put that stupid book in Walberg's time capsule."<br/>
<br/>
"Probably." Will states simply. "Probably I should be pissed at you too. But it takes two to tango, right? I fucked up just as bad."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry." you move your right arm onto your right thigh now and bury your head in your hands. "I should've just gone to Fatima or Jelena or something to calm down for a little bit. If I hadn't gone to you..." The thought hangs in the air for a moment. "I don't know. I guess I'll sleep on it or something."<br/>
<br/>
"<i>You'll</i> sleep on it?" comes your companion's response. "We're gonna have to work something out."<br/>
<br/>
"I know, I know but, well, I guess I don't really know at all do I?" You sigh, "We can both sleep on it and then, I don't know, do whatever we want I guess."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. Okay and what if what I want to do isn't what you want to do."<br/>
<br/>
You just give a simple shrug. "She's your best friend so just do what you want and whatever happens happens."<br/>
<br/>
With that being about the closest to a plan either of you can think up, plus the fact it's getting late, you agree to head back. The drive to your place, well the Prescott residence, is silent with not even a grunt passing between the two of you. Once you've got your car it's back to the apartment making sure to avoid both your dad and Diane. You don't even bother to shower or even change out of your clothes. The events of the day have left you emotionally exhausted and instead you collapse onto the bed and before long drift off to sleep.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
When you get to school you do your best to keep on the lookout for Fatima. Despite two drives back last night, the drive to school, plus a rather restless night's sleep, and you're still unsure of what you should do. Do you tell Fatima the truth? Well why should you? She doesn't know of the switch made on Saturday and she doesn't know what happened last night so... ignorance is bliss right?<br/>
<br/>
But no. You can't. God putting it like that, that's just callous. It's also made you aware that for probably the first extended period since putting on her mask you haven't allowed yourself to be wrapped in the security blanket of Sienna's mind and personality. Maybe that's why sleep was so restless and why even now you're still so undecided? Sienna's a headstrong girl and once her mind is made up it's set. But you? Well, you're the opposite. Indecisive, fidgety, nervous. Or you were. It was only a few days but when you were with Fatima you felt more confident and more bold. She had an ability to put you at ease.<br/>
<br/>
Could Jelena see that? Is that why she not-so-subtly encouraged you to ask her out? Was Jelena... and that's when it hits you as you see her get out of her own car not far from where you're standing. Maybe you <i>should</i> talk to someone and maybe that someone should be Jelena. Sure Sienna doesn't go to Jelena with her problems but, well, <i>Sienna</i> doesn't. So you call out to catch her attention and then head over to her. "Hey, uh, I need to talk to you about something really fucking important so can we, like, go somewhere quiet? Just me an' you?"<br/>
<br/>
That seems to catch her off guard but she quickly acquiesces and the two off you are off before finding a generally rarely traversed by students hallway that leads to the front office, the nurse's office, etc. It's a path Sienna's walked on the more than a few times she's come to school hung over to take a quick breather in Nurse Diesel's office. "So what did you--" Jelena starts before noticing the knot on your head, her eyes going wide with concern. "What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
That's when, after swearing her to secrecy, you give her the basic rundown of what happened. What went down Thursday night, what you and Fatima nearly did Friday, the switch, the hanging out on Sunday, the incident with Diane that evening and your little tryst with Sienna. Most of it doesn't take Jelena by surprise, Sienna's home life isn't a well kept secret amongst the group, but all the same she does place a sympathetic arm around your shoulder. The last part, however, is what unsurprisingly catches her interest.<br/>
<br/>
"I just feel like I messed up and messed up bad."<br/>
<br/>
"And so you came to me looking for some sage wisdom, hm?" she smiles, and it's a warm one with no hint of mischievousness to it. "Well my advice is that you know what you should do and what you want to do."<br/>
<br/>
"But if I knew that then why have been beating myself up over it?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Because some times the answer is so obvious that you fool yourself into thinking that's not it. Because a lot of the time the right thing is the harder thing."<br/>
<br/>
You chew it over for a few seconds before nodding. "You're right, yeah. Just like you were on Monday."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes twinkle behind her glasses, "I like to think I've got great observational skills. I liked puzzles as a kid so I guess I approach things like that. People are just big, living puzzles really. It's fun to sit back, watch them, figure out what makes them work and how the pieces fit together. Life is one big puzzle."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that what you saw in me and Fatima? Two pieces of that puzzle that fit together?"<br/>
<br/>
"A little." she replies as she rests her head on your shoulder, "But I'm also a bit of a hopeless romantic. Cheesy as they are I love a good romantic comedy."<br/>
<br/>
"Is there anybody that you?" you look down at her face but see that she's in no hurry to respond. "You know, that you've got your eye on?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's one that was recent. Few months back at a frat party I was at with my sister. Asian girl. Petite thing, really cute and nice and funny. That was a good night, I keep hoping I'll see her again. That's the attainable though. The unattainable..." Jelena lets out a long, though content sounding sigh. You let out a small noise of curiosity and she lifts her head from your shoulder. "Nothing. Some times there's a thing you want but know you can't have. And some times you have that thing but it winds up being temporary; fool's gold, you can say." She offers another smile as she heads back to class.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyway remember: you know what you want to do and what you have to do so." she says as she departs before adding a quick "Right, I wanted to get started this afternoon but given events, well, Wednesday will be good."<br/>
<br/>
It takes you a moment to realize that she's talking about the book and that she's given you a bit of a reprieve to work things out. As you head to class yourself it strikes you that, should your relationship with Fatima go to shit, you're at least glad you met someone as nice as Jelena.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So it is that you meet Fatima at lunch and this time it's her you're asking to talk to in private after pleasantries are exchanged. Like Jelena said, you know what you want and have to do so you do it and spill your guts to Fatima about everything that happened yesterday. Her response is one that takes you by surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"I know." she says plainly. "Sienna called me up last night and told me everything."<br/>
<br/>
You almost want to laugh at the absurdity. All that agonizing you did and it was pointless. It all meant nothing. Instead you just ask her a simple question. "You're not mad?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was, a little, but..." she pauses and you note that the look on her face is one of sadness. But it doesn't look like a sadness born of betrayal because you see a small bit of contentment as well. "Sienna's my best friend. We've known each other a long time and she's like a sister to me. I know the hand that life's dealt her and I really want her to be happy."<br/>
<br/>
"So... you're breaking up with me so me and her can get together or...?"<br/>
<br/>
She shakes her head, "No. We talked and we think that there's a part of you, subconsciously, that wants to play the hero. You see a girl in distress and want to help her. But she's got your mask and she said that what you feel for me, she can tell it's real." She takes a breath, "These masks give you a perspective you'd never have. You lean so much about a person. So we decided: come by my place tonight and you and I'll switch. A day to look at things from my point of view, to look at <i>me</i>, and see what it is that you really want."</span></div></div>


path: 113322111121112121111
author_id: rugal
title: Was That the Human Thing to Do
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You stare at Fatima in silence for a moment trying to make sure you heard her right. "You want me to..." you stop and take a quick look around just be extra sure that nobody's actually around. "You want me to come to your house, and put on your mask."<br/>
<br/>
"Until tomorrow evening." is her rather simple reply.<br/>
<br/>
"And you'll, what? Go home under my mask?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
She shakes her head. "No, I'll go home as Sienna."<br/>
<br/>
You're taken aback. "You know how her home life is." you state, "All of the shit she has to deal with... I don't want you having to deal with that. I don't think, from having her mind here, that she'd want you to do that either."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not a child, Will." she replies and there's a tone of defiance in her voice. "And I've known Sienna a long time. A long, long time. I've seen the stuff she's dealt with first hand. One night there isn't going to kill me or anything. Besides like I told you, her and I talked about all of this already last night. She knows that it's not going to do me in."<br/>
<br/>
You place a hand to your forehead and shake your head. "Christ, it's like I told her last night I really should've put that book into the time capsule. So now I'll be you, you'll be Sienna, Sienna will be. God it's getting confusing. At this point it feels more like I'm other people than myself."<br/>
<br/>
"It's weird, yeah, but..." Fatima pauses for a second to gather her thoughts, "But I'm glad. The masks and the book and everything, it's still weird. There's still a big part of me that feels uncomfortable about all of it. But the perspective these things can offer is just mindblowing and part of me thinks of how good that could be if other people were able to use them too."<br/>
<br/>
"Whoa, hold on!" you exclaim, "We can't just go around announcing this shit to the whole world!"<br/>
<br/>
"I know, but still... you haven't thought about that either?" she asks, "Imagine if Chelsea could see the world from the eyes of someone unpopular. Imagine if someone like Gordon could look at things from the point of view who someone he or his gang harass. Or a teacher and a student. It could just... It could open this whole world up. These points of view that people didn't know existed. It's the old 'walk a mile in my shoes' expression. People might be able to gain a greater understanding of one another <i>and</i> themselves."<br/>
<br/>
You give a small, amused laugh. "That's a rather lofty vision." you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"What can I say? I'm a total bleeding heart." she shoots back. "I think that's why I'm not so mad or upset about what happened last night. It was the perspectives intermingling. It was getting lost in the moment and where one personality began and the other ended. At least, I'm assuming that's how it was. That's how I felt on Friday night when..." she stops herself and blushes a bit. "Or maybe I'm just doing a really good job of convincing myself not to be upset and it's all just me rationalizing it. I don't know."<br/>
<br/>
You stare at her for a moment, surprised. Part of you is amazed by the type of person she seems to be and it's because of that that another part of you feels even worse about what happened. You yourself don't know if she's just mentally minimizing the impact of what she heard or if she's truly able to look past that but you've potentially hurt her and it feels awful. So you do the only thing that comes to mind and pull her into a tight hug. "I'm sorry." you say quietly, "I shouldn't have... fuck, I'm sorry."<br/>
<br/>
And you're surprised when you, almost on autopilot it seems, you bring your face down and both her lips and yours meet. There's no resistance and in fact she seems to comply and go along with it. It feels long and deep, in reality it's short as both of you pull back once what's happening really sets in. "I'm... holy fuck, Fatima, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." you stammer.<br/>
<br/>
Fatima, for her part, has her hand on her chest and shakes her head, her face a confusing mix of conflicting emotions. "No I... I wasn't viewing it as... I mean I was seeing..."<br/>
<br/>
You hear the bell to indicate the end of your lunch period. "I'll, um, do it." you state, "The... thing. With the masks. Your house. I'll do that."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." comes the quiet reply as Fatima nods, the conflicting emotions still on her face as you make your way to Sienna's next class.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You towel off some of the sweat on your face and body after stepping off the treadmill. It's something Fatima likes to do to help keep, if not in shape then at least stay healthy, running for about an hour at least every other day after getting home from school. You head into the kitchen and down a glass of water and after rinsing it have a brief run-in with her mother. "&lt;Oh, hey mom. Didn't hear you come in.&gt;" you say in Farsi. Soraya and Yousef, her parents, both speak English but having immigrated from Iran tend to speak their native tongue in the home and around family leaving Fatima bilingual as a result.<br/>
<br/>
You go to give her a hug but being all sweaty and smelly you think better of it. "&lt;So what's up?&gt;" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"&lt;I was actually planning to head back out soon to pick up some dinner. How does chicken sound?&gt;" she asks in return.<br/>
<br/>
"&lt;That sounds fine.&gt;" you reply as you head to the hallway closet to grab a towel, "&lt;I'm gonna hop in the shower so I'll probably see you when you get back.&gt;"<br/>
<br/>
You catch sight of yourself in the mirror before you step in the shower. It's a heart-shaped face with a typical Persian nose and large, soulful light green eyes with a mane of long, thick, dark hair. You noticed it when you asked her out but it strikes you again: Fatima is an incredibly cute girl with a face that looks as if she has compassion for damn near everything that's ever lived. As a result you try your best to keep your showering to just that.<br/>
<br/>
You go through the rest of the day in the way Fatima generally does. You run through her homework, then it's dinner with her family, the rest of the evening and night is then spent doodling, checking Facebook and other social media (especially Tumblr where she uploads a lot of her art), and then a little bit of light reading of some kind of young adult novel that you yourself might not otherwise care about. All told a rather low key affair.<br/>
<br/>
But Fatima wanted you to do this to get a bit of her perspective on things and so you allow <i>Fatima Zahedi</i> to envelope you, subsuming yourself in her mind as you search through her thoughts. You start somewhere simple: family.<br/>
<br/>
After moving to the United States your parents both went back to school. Your mother got a degree in education and has spent the past twenty years as a teacher at James K. Polk Elementary. Your father, meanwhile, went to school for business administration working for Gerald Turner's original dealership eventually working his way up to general manager making good money. It was from your parents that you got most of your character, your mother instilling in you a sense of "doing right by others" and generally living a morally upstanding life and your father giving you an appreciation for always having goals and a plan to reach them.<br/>
<br/>
You move on to something else: Sienna. The two of you met in the fourth grade sharing the same class. Sienna, being generally poorer, had a tendency to be teased and you eventually stepped in to stick up for her. It was slow going at first, Sienna not taking too kindly to it but you were able to crack through her shell and the two of you have been practically inseparable ever since.<br/>
<br/>
You take a moment to retreat from Fatima's personality and look at both her and Sienna. Sienna is brash, tough, but emotional and hot headed. She's like a wounded animal backed into a corner, guarded and huddled but lashing out defensively at everything she feels is a threat. Fatima, meanwhile, is almost the opposite. Outwardly she seems meek but her strength is a quiet one. It's an internal thing that she doesn't advertise but at the same time allows her to not get as caught up in the games of Chelsea and others who would attempt to belittle her and keep her down.<br/>
<br/>
You step back into her personality to look at something else: yourself, or rather Will Prescott. Will... he came in all gawky but something about him set you at ease. You're not sure what but around him you feel like you can relax a little bit, enjoy things, be a bit more outgoing. Your mind is tsk-tsking, telling you that's not a logical way to feel about someone you just met but your heart tells it to quiet down. He's awkward but there's something about it that's charming and earnest, not like DeMarcus.<br/>
<br/>
That's why you were so shocked and at the time more than a little hurt by what Sienna told you. <i>But it wasn't him or them. It was the masks. It was just like Friday night.</i> That's what you had told yourself, and maybe it's a silly little lie to protect yourself from the reality but you don't want to think that. You'd rather think the best of people and your best friend and boyfriend especially. That's why earlier this afternoon...<br/>
<br/>
That kiss. When he pulled you into that hug, when your lips met, for a moment you weren't seeing Sienna but through the mask to Will. You could tell that what happened is something he agonized over and that ate at him, again not like DeMarcus who seemed to show no remorse for cheating on you with Molly Shaw. No, Will is much to genuine for that. He's not a bad looking guy, whatever he may think, but you think that's probably what really attracts you to him. He seems like someone who thinks he's in no position to judge, someone who you can be open and honest with.<br/>
<br/>
Once more you step back from Fatima's personality. The way she looks at you... it's amazing and flattering and leaves you speechless. It also makes you feel even worse. How could you do that to her? Sienna deserves happiness as well but not at Fatima's expense. She wanted a day but it took you only hours to realize that if you're to have any relationship with Fatima you'll need to set things straight with Sienna.</span></div></div>


