# chapters

path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111121131211241
author_id: seuzz
title: The House of Professor Blackwell
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>There's a deserted feeling to the house on whose porch you stand. The yard has been blasted of all green things, and the cloudy sky casts a shadow over the house. The dark windows are like blind, lidless eyes, and the white walls of the villa have a sooty grime on them.<br/>
<br/>
"How do you have a key?" Seth asks Marc as he slides a key into the deadbolt of the dusky front door.<br/>
<br/>
"Lucy had it. As I said, the owner of this house used to come and go as her, so he put a key on her ring."<br/>
<br/>
At least the door doesn't creak as it opens.<br/>
<br/>
The foyer beyond is dark, and the wooden floor squeaks under your feet. Marc shuts the door, plunging you all into a near-total darkness. "Now, if I recall correctly," he says, "there's a library ahead to our left, a staircase ahead to our right, a living room over that way—" His hand brushes across you. "And a den and dining room and kitchen at the end of this hallway."<br/>
<br/>
"So what are we looking for?" Jeremy asks. His voice sounds hollowly in the gloom.<br/>
<br/>
"Anything that looks like a mask or a beta."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know where he keeps them? I thought Lucy had been out here before."<br/>
<br/>
"She has, but I don't remember her playing with any of them."<br/>
<br/>
A silence falls over your group.<br/>
<br/>
"So are we all just going to stand here?" Seth asks.<br/>
<br/>
You were wondering the same thing. But like the others (apparently) you feel reluctant to step deeper into the house.<br/>
<br/>
There's a rustle of clothing, and Marc advances down the hallway. In single file, with you taking up the rear, the rest of you follow.<br/>
<br/>
Half a dozen steps take you to a junction: an archway on the left and a staircase at the right. Dim, gray light streams in from the former, enough for you to make out your companions. Marc glances around.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, let's split up," he breathes. (You'd speak as quietly too.) "I'll check out the library. Lucy spent a lot of time in there, and maybe something will jog my memory. Seth, you look around downstairs. Gordon, you and Jeremy look upstairs. Pay special attention to a bedroom done up in Chinese colors and patterns. I think it's the professor's bedroom. He may have some stuff in there."<br/>
<br/>
Again, for a long moment no one moves.<br/>
<br/>
Then Marc turns into the library; Seth moves back the way you came; and you and Jeremy mount the staircase.<br/>
<br/>
It's built of dark, heavy wood—as most of the interior of the house seems to be—but is so solid that it makes no noise under your footfalls. Halfway up you hit a landing, then make a one-eighty turn to mount the rest of the way to the top floor. There you find another hallway, running parallel to and directly above the hallway below. There are windows at either end, but the light outside so dim that they cast no real illumination.  <br/>
<br/>
"Split up?" Jeremy murmurs. "I was afraid you'd say that," he mutters when you nod.<br/>
<br/>
You grin ruefully at his back as he softly stalks down the hallway toward the front of the house. He has a black goatee like a Koosh ball on his chin, but his hair is still mop-like, and he still walks like his legs are stilts and his feet are roller skates. It's almost like being back in middle school with him, and you momentarily wish that it was Keith inside Jeremy's skin, for then it would be like you're friends again ...<br/>
<br/>
You turn the other way and try a door on your right. It opens silently.<br/>
<br/>
Whatever the Chinese for "jackpot" is, this is it: a room done up in ebonies and scarlets, with silk hangings, lacquered wall ornaments, and a bed under a gigantic canopy with dangling tassels at all four corners. All that's missing is a statue of a dragon and a slant-eyed harridan in a kimono and beehive hairdo behind a cash register, and it could be the foyer to the Panda Gardens Chinese Buffet and Restaurant.<br/>
<br/>
A thick rug covers the floor, but you still move about the room on tiptoe. You pull open a wardrobe and run your hands through the suits, jackets, pants and shirts that hang there. You slide open the dresser drawers and paw through piles of silk underwear and dark socks. You look under the vanity in the <i>en suite</i> bathroom, and even drop onto your stomach to search under the bed. You find lots of personal effects, from nail clippers and scissors to bottles of aspirin, but nothing that looks magical, let alone like a mask or an undressed beta.<br/>
<br/>
You're patting down the curtains when a movement catches your attention in the corner of your eye: Jeremy, leaning in the doorway. "Did you hear that?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Hear what?"<br/>
<br/>
"A rattling sound, like rocks sliding down the roof."<br/>
<br/>
"A squirrel?"<br/>
<br/>
He frowns, but before he can reply, the ceiling above groans and squeaks, like heavy footsteps; then there's a rumbling, like a heavy weight being dragged across the roof.<br/>
<br/>
"That's a big squirrel," Jeremy says.<br/>
<br/>
"Is there an attic in this place?"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes widen. "You think maybe he keeps the beta in the attic?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think anything, 'cept maybe there's an attic with— Uh—" You were about to say <i>with something in it,</i> but you really don't want it to turn out that way. "Let's go see what else is up here. You find anything down your way?" You join him the hallway.<br/>
<br/>
"Just a spare bedroom. Nothing in it."<br/>
<br/>
"Took you long enough to search it."<br/>
<br/>
"I was listening to the stuff on the roof."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't get rattled, man," you tell him as you open another door. The room beyond is completely bare, and the floor is caked in dust. "Old houses like this—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Bang!</i> You and Jeremy jump and wheel on the window. Jeremy grabs your shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"It was bird," you tell him as you wrench his fingers off you. "Get a grip. On anything but me. Hey!"<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy has hurried across the room, his feet kicking up the soft white dust. He cranes his neck, looking out through the window. "Marc's out there," he says. "Down in the side yard."<br/>
<br/>
"Marc?" You hurry over to join him. "Did he throw a rock or something? Does he want us?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't know."<br/>
<br/>
It doesn't look like it. Marc is standing on a brick patio directly below, looking around with his hands on his hips. Jeremy tries pulling up the window, but it seems to be stuck.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey guys!" a muffled voice hollers from the hallway.<br/>
<br/>
You and Jeremy look at each other, then bolt from the room. "This way," the voice calls from the stairway. <i>What did Seth find?</i> you wonder.<br/>
<br/>
You thought Jeremy was behind you, but after tumbling down the landing to the first floor you find that you've lost him somehow. Through the archway and the room opposite you see Marc standing outside a set of French doors. He's rattling them, as though trying to come inside. <br/>
<br/>
"This way!" Seth calls again from down the hallway. You shoot one last glance at Marc, then trot into the back of the house. "Here!" You duck into and through a formal dining room and large kitchen. The outside door is open, and you step out and down onto a cracked and narrow sidewalk. The wind catches the kitchen door and slams it shut behind you.<br/>
<br/>
"In here!" It takes you a moment to realize Seth is calling from inside a stone shed. Prickles run up your spine as you trot over to the open doorway. Something about the shed's size and the shape bothers you. It's made of white blocks like marble, and two fluted columns flank the low doorway. The door is open, but interior is swallowed up in blackness. "Help me," Seth says from inside.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Help him with what?</i> you wonder as you duck and step in over the threshold.<br/>
<br/>
The door slams behind you, shutting you up into absolute darkness. You wheel and fumble for a latch. There is none, only a smooth metal door. You sweep your arms around, brushing the rough walls on all four sides with your fingertips. But you are alone inside the—<br/>
<br/>
You swallow as the word pops up out of your subconscious mind, from which it had been struggling to escape.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Inside the mausoleum.</i><br/>
<br/>
From outside comes a skittering chatter, as of hundreds of dry, scaly leaves rustling in the wind. Or—and you shiver and shrink back as the image forms in your head—the clatter of hundreds of bats drumming their wings on the stonework.</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111111211312113
author_id: seuzz
title: How to Sideline Yourself
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I was planning on sitting things out," you tell Carlos. "Would that be a problem?" you ask, for he looks a little shocked at your reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I thought we were all going to help out," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Can't Keith help out by keeping on being Cindy?"<br/>
<br/>
He rolls his eyes. "So I guess you figure if it's too risky for him it's too risky for you?"<br/>
<br/>
You grimace at his words, and mutter, "Something like that."<br/>
<br/>
He looks over your shoulder into the middle distance.<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, you might be right," he says. "Philip says the guy can't have made any more betas after losing the book, but who really knows?"<br/>
<br/>
"So how are you going to take care of Cindy? Are you just going to turn her back to normal? Can you?"<br/>
<br/>
He swings around in surprised. "Sure we can! This isn't forever! We're gonna put everyone back!" Then he starts to stammer. "Just not now, just not yet. Not with this guy, whoever he is, making betas out of her family members, that's for sure. We'll stick another beta in for her, but it won't be any of us. So don't worry about it."<br/>
<br/>
"So why did you want me to do it?"<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. "Thought you might want some fun."<br/>
<br/>
He turns away, then turns back. "Oh, before I forget," he says, "this is for you." From his pocket he draws out a metal strip.<br/>
<br/>
"What is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"A copy of my dear brother's brain." He flashes a set of Jessica Garner's dimples. "Lucky you!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's a metal strip a few inches long and about an inch wide. It's flexible and bends easily without creasing, and on over side of it float large blue letters, like a hologram. MARC DAVID GARNER, they say.<br/>
<br/>
"Just put it on your forehead," Philip tells you later when you catch up to him. "It'll knock you out for about ten minutes, so make sure you're laying down first. When you wake up, you'll have his memories and bunch of other stuff."<br/>
<br/>
When you ask him how weird it's going to be to have two brains all mixed together, he only shrugs. "You'll get used to it," he says. "Just let it come."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Uh huh,</i> you think.<br/>
<br/>
You leave shortly afterwards, for there's nothing else for you to do to help. A little after seven you meet up with Keith at McDonalds, where in typical fashion he moans about having to give up being Cindy, even though he's the one who insists on it. Back home you stay up past midnight to finish your homework, then crawl into bed. You wait until you feel yourself on the verge of drifting off, then fish that metal strip out from under the sheets and slap it onto your forehead. You figured that if it was going to knock you out, it might as well be when you were heading off to sleep anyway ... <br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Eva Garner is waiting next to the gym as you come sauntering out of the student parking lot at 8:05. She grins at you. "How are you doing, Will?" she asks, and rubs her forehead with a forefinger.<br/>
<br/>
"Doin' great, now. I woke up in a freaking strange bed, but I got it sorted out. Hey Blake!" you yell into the breezeway at the retreating back of the football player who rescued you from The Warehouse Saturday morning. "Where you off to?" you holler when he turns around.<br/>
<br/>
"Social studies! Santiago!"<br/>
<br/>
"Sucks to be you! Anything going on after school?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dunno! Come talk to me in English, or come find me in the gym after eighth!"<br/>
<br/>
"You got practice then or something? Sucks <i>donkey balls</i> to be you!" you add when he nods. He grins and lopes off toward the main building. "Jesus," you mutter at Eva, "I can't believe I'm talking like this to a football player I barely know."<br/>
<br/>
"You picked up Marc's personality, no mistake," Eva says. "So no problems?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like I say, I freaked out when I woke up. Got up to do my stretches before my morning jog, then remembered I don't do stretches or have a morning jog 'cos I'm not Marc Garner. The guy in my head had a little panic attack when that happened, but now—"<br/>
<br/>
But now it's like the world is one of those optical illusions, like the duck-rabbit illusion, or the gif of the ballerina who sometimes spins left and sometimes spins right. Depending on how you concentrate, either you are looking at and talking to the world like you're Will Prescott, or you're looking at and talking to it like you're Marc Garner. "Now, I just take turns with the cocksucker."<br/>
<br/>
"Which one is the cocksucker?" she asks with a smirk.<br/>
<br/>
You smirk back. "You think you're cute, Eva. But I've seen you in a housecoat and fuzzy slippers with curlers in your hair."<br/>
<br/>
She squeals and strikes at you, but you've Marc Garner's reflexes and memories of how far Eva can swing, and you leap away with a laugh.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's a day of small surprises, most of them pleasant, most of them having to do with girls coming up to talk to you. Most of them are girls who texted you on Saturday, and you feel yourself glinting at them as you chat and promise to "catch up" with them later. But a few of them are football players and wrestlers—guys who were working at The Warehouse on Saturday—checking in to see how you're doing. You more or less promise to hang out with some of them after school.<br/>
<br/>
The only real unpleasantness comes during Astronomy, when Stephanie summons you over. "You not get my text or are you just blowing me off?" she says.<br/>
<br/>
You can't help wincing: Stephanie was one of the girls who texted you Saturday with a request to meet up with you on Sunday. "I wound up spending Sunday with Eva and Jessica," you tell her, "it totally, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
And you are overwhelmed by a head rush of memories from Marc's memory strip: <br/>
Stephanie coming over to play at your house with your sisters when you were all eight and nine and ten years old. You jumping out of closets and chasing Stephanie and her chasing you; of playing soccer against her and your sisters, losing at first but evening up the score and then pulling ahead as you got bigger and stronger and better; of meeting Stephanie one afternoon at Potsdam Park to kick around the ball at the end of the summer at the start of your sophomore year, and of sliding in to kick the ball away, and of her tripping and falling onto you; of the contours her body resting on yours—the scent of her hair and skin—the warmth in your cheeks—the rush in your shorts—the embarrassment of trying to talk to her afterward.<br/>
<br/>
"And I totally spaced out," you lamely conclude.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. You gonna space out with Kristy?" Stephanie's eyebrows go up, and a canine shows in her smile.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Kristy?</i> Oh, shit! <i>Kristy Suffolk,</i> who you danced with at the Warehouse after your friends set it up with you. And she's a friend of Stephanie's!<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm not gonna space out with her," you stammer.<br/>
<br/>
"Did you space out on her in English?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>English?</i> Oh, shit, you had her in English and you totally didn't even look in her direction! You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Fuck, I was— Yeah I totally did."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it sure sounds like you did, Prescott. She wasn't even there today."<br/>
<br/>
"She wasn't?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, she was out with a—"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, don't fuck with me, Stephanie!"<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes freeze. But you return her glare with a hard one of your own.<br/>
<br/>
"You wanna get cute with me, get cute with me," you tell her, "but don't expect me to roll over and beg for fucking mercy. Christ. I had a busy weekend and I spent a lot of it feeling sick and hung over. If Kristy wants me to notice her, she should put herself where I'll notice her. Otherwise she's gonna have to play by my schedule."<br/>
<br/>
Stephanie's lip curls. "You're really interested in making her feel special, aren't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fine, I spaced out in English. Guilty as charged, and you turned a neat trick to get me to confess. You were just <i>looking</i> for a chance to embarrass me, weren't you?"<br/>
<br/>
White spots show under Stephanie's tanned cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
"If I wasn't so pissed off at you, Stephanie, I'd give you a better set of answers. But I'm mad, so yeah, I guess I'm spewing out a lotta shit that's gonna hurt me with her. You and her both. You should be happy, it'll give you something to use against me. That's what you want, isn't it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Bite me, Stephanie."<br/>
<br/>
You wheel and stalk over to your desk. You're vaguely aware that the other kids in the room are either staring at you with open mouths or being very careful <i>not</i> to stare at you as you throw yourself into your seat.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
By four-thirty, though, you're a lot calmer. Calmer? You are floating on a sea of happiness. That's what a beer and a couple of hits off some really magnificent ganja will do.<br/>
<br/>
You're down by the river with Blake and Erik Carstairs and a bunch of other guys from the football team. You are vaguely aware that you are way too buzzed—Marc's brain said it was okay, and too late realized that what was okay for Marc's physique wasn't okay for yours—but more aware that you don't give a shit. When your phone chimes with a text, you smile at it and show it to Blake. "Lookit that. Kristy Suffolk wants to hang out with me."<br/>
<br/>
"Get 'er out here, man," Blake says. He claps his arm around your shoulder. You grin at Connor Vale, who is pissing into the river. If you like it out here, Kristy would love it!<br/>
<br/>
"Who's that?" Blake asks when your phone chimes again. This time it's a call, and it's Keith. "Have you heard from Carlos and the guys?" he asks. "'Cos I haven't. Not even a text. That professor went home, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Cool."<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing cool about it, Will. And I can't raise them 'cos they didn't take the girls' phones with them."<br/>
<br/>
"That was dumb."<br/>
<br/>
"Should we go out and look around? Think maybe that professor caught them?"</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111113
author_id: rugal
title: Welcome Freshman
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You have lots of time to wait, and lots of opportunities to second-guess yourself while you do. Over the next two hours nearly half a dozen cars and trucks go in and out of the complex. You squint at the cabins as they come out. But unless your ... double or whoever is sneaking out inside someone's trunk or down in the floorboards, he doesn't make his escape during your watch.<br/>
<br/>
Meanwhile, you slowly recover from your earlier illness. You feel grungy and achy all over, but not actually sick.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Along about ten-thirty you get a phone call from Carlos. "Yeah, I knew you'd be answering Keith's phone," he says. "Mike told me." (About an hour before you'd gotten a text from Hollister: you'd replied by telling him it was you and that you had Tilley's cell with you.) "Uh, did you try getting into the complex a couple of hours ago?" Carlos asks now.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. There's a guy in there, and I think he has my phone. That's how come I had to borrow Keith's."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh," Carlos says. "Yeah, Dolores called and said some crazy kid was trying to get in. But what's this about someone out there having your phone.?"<br/>
<br/>
As coherently as you can, without mentioning the crazy part of it, you tell him about the text that Keith got, and how you tracked the holder of your phone down to the Top Shelf Storage Unit. "I think he's in the climate unit," you add. You hold your breath as Carlos says nothing. "Maybe I should have called you earlier, told you about it."<br/>
<br/>
"No, that's okay," he says. "I was asleep, probably wouldn't have been thinking clearly. I had kind of a late night of it too. Heard you were at the Warehouse. How was it?"<br/>
<br/>
"It was great, but if you could come out here soon, maybe we could get into the climate unit to see if that guy—"<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, are you out there right now?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. I've been watching the entrance. Was gonna follow the cocksucker when he came out."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Well, maybe we should go in and get them. I'll call Mike. Between the three of us, we can probably beat the ass of— Um, do you know who it is?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nuh-uh."<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't get a look at him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well ... Kind of. He came out of the unit, but when he saw me he ran back inside." You're glad you don't have to say more.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I think the three of us can take whoever it is. Where are you now?"<br/>
<br/>
"The laundromat across the street."<br/>
<br/>
That provokes a very long silence. "Are you sure the guy is still there? He could have left."<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, I've been watching."<br/>
<br/>
"But if you don't know what he looks like—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I got a good enough look at him to know he wasn't driving any of the cars that came out again."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, if you think so," Carlos says in a grumpy tone of voice. "I'll try to get Mike, and get out to see you as soon as we can. Later."<br/>
<br/>
Though he sounds like he's trying to be helpful, you find yourself wishing that your quarry would try leaving, so that you could just follow him and catch him and kick his ass without having to involve anyone else.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
No luck on that score, and you're quite bored and cross when the noon hour finally creeps into view and you've not heard from anyone. Several times you come close to calling Carlos and just asking him to give you the code that will get you into the facility, but you keep changing your mind. Finally, though, a subcompact rolls into the laundromat parking lot and stops next to you. Carlos gets out, and chucks his chin at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Mike's following, will be here in a few minutes. How about you hop into my car, and we'll make the jump across the street."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Whatever.</i> Carlos unlocks the passenger-side door, and you transfer into his car.<br/>
<br/>
"You know," you start to say, "I was thinking I should've just gotten you to give me the—"<br/>
<br/>
You've just time to see a shadowy figure rise up in the back seat before an arm goes around your neck, and something dark goes over your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's the sun shining on your face that wakens you. You're aware of a golden haze, and the warmth on one cheek. With a slight groan you raise your head and blink your eyes open.<br/>
<br/>
Someone is talking, and the words clarify as you pull down a deep breath: "—so it's not like you're missing anything. You know?" There follows a slurping sound, as of someone sucking down the last of a cola through a straw.<br/>
<br/>
You sit up and look around. You're sitting in the passenger seat of a car, and you're parked facing a busy street. You glance over, and see the Carl's Jr. marquee looming nearby.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, Eva," the other voice murmurs. You look over. Jessica Garner is seated behind the wheel, jamming the straw of her drink up and down. She frowns at the street. She looks a lot healthier than a girl should look after drinking and dancing to all hours at the Warehouse. You yourself feel a lot more disordered. Your skirt is riding up high on your thighs, and your brassiere feels like—<br/>
<br/>
Hang on. <i>Skirt? Brassiere?</i><br/>
<br/>
Well yeah, of course. Your mom had started laundry in the morning and by the time you left it wasn't done so you'd only had an older bra that really doesn't fit well anymore since your boobs have gotten a little bigger. In fact once your home and laundry's finished it'll be a good idea to toss this thing out.<br/>
<br/>
And the skirt? It's a nice floral print thing that you'd gotten back at the start of August with some of your birthday money. You've worn it a few times and it feels great and looks cute so when you'd gotten that call then of course you were going to wear it. The dark skirt contrasts nicely with the light, long-sleeved denim top you'd chosen out too. And all the makeup and attempts to style your hair that you'd done and then you...<br/>
<br/>
And then you face planted right there in the restaurant. Right in front of... you look at Jessica and suddenly there's a pit in your stomach as you pull yourself up from your half-slumped position. The passenger in the other seat must have heard you because she turns back to look at you and oh god it's Eva. Yeah, it was both of them you'd been with and then...<br/>
<br/>
"You okay back there?" she asks with a smile and a friendly tone. You try to say something but only a squeak comes out so the only thing you can do is nod. "That's good," she says with a sigh of relief. "We were kind of worried there."<br/>
<br/>
"Sleeping beauty's up I take it?" asks Jessica.<br/>
<br/>
Eva turns back to look at her sister in the driver's seat. "She's up," she says before turning back to you. "Are you sick or anything?" she asks and you can only shake your head. "Maybe you just didn't get enough sleep then," she continues as she turns back to face the front. "I remember this time in tenth grade when Jessica--"<br/>
<br/>
"Wait what are you... oh god, you better not say anything about that!"<br/>
<br/>
"Mrs. Potato Face," says a very amused Eva who bursts into giggles.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm gonna kill you when we get home," she says sourly. "That way there's no witnesses."<br/>
<br/>
But Eva continues to laugh and giggle and Jessica continues to grumble and against your better judgment you find yourself beginning to giggle too though immediately you clam up. You just had to do that didn't you? You've disrespected her and completely blown any chance you may have had. Wonderful, just great. You want to fall into a hole now. But if you've pissed off Jessica then she doesn't say anything outside of continuing to grumble at her sister. But still, you've blown it. You just know you have.<br/>
<br/>
That's why you're surprised when you're dropped off back at your house.<br/>
<br/>
"You really impressed us," Eva says with a positive expression.<br/>
<br/>
"We'll get together some time soon after school and you can show us some things," adds Jessica. "If it looks good we'll put in a good word to Coach for you."<br/>
<br/>
"And believe me our word carries a lot of weight so you'd be as good as in," Eva says. She gives you a thumbs up and then waves goodbye as the minivan drives off.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You toss your bag onto the floor and plop down on your bed face first. You feel hot and your heart's racing. You thought you'd ruined it for sure but Eva and Jessica seemed to like you and that causes your head to swim. It might take until junior year but you start to wonder if you might be a lock for the cheerleading squad then.<br/>
<br/>
But wait, why do you care about being a cheerleader?<br/>
<br/>
Well that's easy. You've been doing gymnastics since you were little and you started dancing last year too. Plus Gwen, that is your sister, was head cheerleader for Westside when she'd graduated a few years back and you want to carry on the legacy.<br/>
<br/>
Wait, sister? Since when did you have a sister?<br/>
<br/>
Since always of course. She's a fair bit older than you, being as she's a junior at Keyserling and you're just a freshman at Westside, but you've always been close to her and you've looked up to her a lot. <i>Cait</i>, she'd said to you when you told her on your birthday that you'd wanted to be on the squad, <i>you'll get there. You're way better than I was.</i><br/>
<br/>
That had made you feel good. And when Taylor had told you a little while ago that Eva had called her asking for your number so she and her sister could talk to you because they're getting a feel for people to recommend Coach Tesla keep an eye on your stomach was filled with butterflies that wouldn't go away. You've seen Yumi Saito and Gloria Rea, other cheerleaders, at after school gymnastics and you've admired how poised and cool they are.<br/>
<br/>
And now that could be you, you gush. If, no, when you make it maybe you'll even be able to get head cheerleader your senior year. Caitlyn Smart: Head Cheerleader has a great ring to it. However, there's just one problem you suddenly realize.<br/>
<br/>
Why in the hell are you Caitlyn Smart?</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111131
author_id: rugal
title: The Girl with Your Brain, the Boy with Your Face
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Why in the hell are you Caitlyn Smart?<br/>
<br/>
Who in the hell is Caitlyn Smart?<br/>
<br/>
Those questions run through your head as you sit back up. Well the second question is probably easy to answer. You see the bag at the foot of the bed where you tossed it down so you pick it up and root through it. Surely there should be something useful in here but all you see is some makeup and folded up notes. There's a wallet in there but when you open it there's nothing to really see: a library card, an unused gift card (probably from that birthday you thought about earlier) and some money. In disappointment you put it back but do catch sight of the phone in there as well.<br/>
<br/>
It's very girly you note given the pink case with a cutesy graphic on the back. But you don't care about what's on the outside of it, merely what's inside. Maybe there'll be some information there so anxiously you hit the home button and your mood falls when you see that you're greeted by the lock screen. Well of course it'd have one, that makes sense, but how are you supposed to know what number to unlock it is? How would you even be able to guess at it?<br/>
<br/>
Still you have to make some kind of attempt so you give it a minute of thought and without thinking enter the first number and something in the back of your mind tells you that's correct. So you try a second number, a third, a fourth and the phone manages to unlock successfully. You're stunned for a minute because either you have almost supernatural instincts or somehow got incredibly lucky.<br/>
<br/>
You look through the phone to see if there's anything on there that might give you an idea as to what's going on but there's nothing much to go off of there either. You check the contacts to see if you recognize anyone but it's all names like Willa and Taylor and Courtney that don't mean anything to you. So you go into the pictures and take note of what you see. There's a lot of selfies, mostly a trio consisting of an auburn-haired girl and two brunettes: a bright-looking girl with straight hair and one with wavy hair who seems to radiate more poise.<br/>
<br/>
Well you've noticed long strands of auburn hair falling about you so that girl is probably you and the other two, you'd have to guess, are friends... and when you think of that there's a small voice in the back of your head that wants to connect them with some of the names you saw in the contacts. In fact it's at that moment that your phone buzzes and a text from the person listed as Taylor comes through.<br/>
<br/>
<i>u still out w/ eva?</i><br/>
<br/>
Well shit, it's one of the girl's friends; the one you vaguely remembered from a few minutes ago. So that means you're going to have to play the part of Caitlyn for them right? But why? Why are you in a situation like this? But you sigh and grumble and shake your head. There's no point in questioning it, not now anyway. You need to just play along.<br/>
<br/>
<i>just got back,</i> you shoot back. That seems like a reasonably safe choice of words and maybe that'll satisfy them.<br/>
<br/>
That's why you're disheartened when another text comes through: <i>cool! how did it go?!</i><br/>
<br/>
Ugh. You're really going to have to do this you wonder? <i>they said i impressed them,</i> you reply.<br/>
<br/>
<i>omigawd thats awesome! w2g cait!</i> If you were hoping they'd be satisfied now your hopes are completely dashed by the next text you receive. <i>we have to celebrate! can u meet at the mall?</i><br/>
<br/>
You want to tell them that you're feeling tired and will have to skip it but that nagging voice is still there telling, compelling you really, to accept. So against your better judgment you send out a reply. <i>sure. when?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>maybe in next 45 mins? text willa for me? see if shes free?</i><br/>
<br/>
You grumble but go back to the contacts until you see Willa's name. You hit it and the text button and shoot one off to her. <i>taylor wants to know if ur free to go to the mall,</i> you send and then add, <i>in like 45 mins?</i> The response is quick and affirmative.<br/>
<br/>
<i>shes good,</i> is all you send.<br/>
<br/>
Taylor is quick to reply. <i>great! c u then!</i><br/>
<br/>
You want to smack that voice in your head. You don't really know where you are or who you are and you're going to have to try to pass yourself off as this girl to her friends for who knows how long.<br/>
<br/>
Again you have to ask yourself: just who is Caitlyn Smart?<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The answer to that question comes after you go into the bathroom because the voice is insisting that you need to make sure everything's good and redo any makeup that needs redoing. You look at the mirror as you try to determine what makeup would need to be redone and you see a girl, a very pretty girl with hazel eyes and long, straight auburn hair, look back at you. Seeing that triggers something in you and it's like a rush of information flooding into you.<br/>
<br/>
That girl looking at you is Caitlyn Smart. She's a freshman at Westside and turned fifteen at the end of July. She takes part in the gymnastics program after school along with her best friend Willa McBride who she's known since the first grade because they were both in the same gymnastics class. Willa's very good but Caitlyn's no slouch herself either but unlike her friend has grown less serious about gymnastics. She still finds it fun but largely she takes it because she wants to be a cheerleader down the road.<br/>
<br/>
And you're going to be hanging out with... Taylor Smith. Taylor's a viola player who's good enough to be put in the chamber orchestra as a freshman. Caitlyn's known her since early last school year and she's thought of Taylor as being very cool and composed. Maybe she doesn't quite get classical music but even she can't really deny her friend's talent for the instrument as well.<br/>
<br/>
They both are seeming very familiar to you now and so is Caitlyn herself... but it's not you. If you think hard you can bring up things about her life or her friends very easily and there's this weird feeling, like slipping on "Caitlyn" like a Halloween mask, where you find yourself able to fuss with hair and makeup the way she would. But something about it feels unnatural. When you think of Caitlyn it feels like you're reading from a book or as you use this mental mask trick to put on a now clean and better fitting bra it feels like you're playing a role.<br/>
<br/>
Oh you're feeling somewhat hopeful that you could play Caitlyn for her friends. But that's what it would be right? Because you still feel like you're, well, you: Will Prescott. Even though the person you're seeing and everything you're feeling physically are telling you otherwise you still feel your own thoughts and your own memories.<br/>
<br/>
Like those memories from yesterday night of Mindy in your lap, or dancing with Kristy or that anonymous girl who was all over you. Yeah, when you think about them... a shudder passes through you and you start feeling warm. Very warm. Right in your crotch. You squeak in surprise and immediately stop trying to think about that. You, that is Caitlyn, wouldn't think about any girl like that. Never once has she so neither can you.<br/>
<br/>
Caitlyn Smart with the brain of Will Prescott. If you want to get through the this meeting at the mall with Willa and Taylor you'll have to shove those Prescott thoughts aside. At least in the presence of others you can't show yourself to be anyone other than who you appear to be.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Cait, that's so cool!" exclaims Willa as she leans in and gives you a tight hug. "So did they say when they wanted to get together?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nuh uh," you shake your head. "Just that they'd do it and if I impressed them then they'd put in a word to the coach to keep an eye on me." You then look over at Taylor with the most grateful expression you can muster. "Thanks a lot," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I didn't really do anything. I was really just the middleman," she says with a wave of her hand. "Eva told me that they'd talked to some other girls over the last couple of days as well. But she didn't even have my number, she had to get it from Audrey. All I did was give her your name."<br/>
<br/>
"And if you didn't do that then I wouldn't be a shoo-in for the squad."<br/>
<br/>
"Shoo in?" questions Taylor.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh c'mon, you know she is," says Willa. "Maybe you should try out next year Cait."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think I'm even allowed," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Not allowed? What's that supposed to mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, 'cause you don't even see juniors on the squad now," you answer. "I mean there has been since Gwen was really good friends with some junior girl when she was head cheerleader but I mean even with that when was the last time you ever saw..."<br/>
<br/>
You trail off at that as something across the food court catches your eye. It's something that actually unnerves you. It's Cindy and she's walking arm-linked with some boy who's definitely not Seth Javits. No, he looks nothing like Seth at all. In fact--<br/>
<br/>
"Earth to Cait," says Willa as she waves a hand in front of your face snapping your attention back to her. "Yo, you spaced out on us for a sec. You okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's probably just excited," says Taylor. "I know I could barely think straight after I was picked for the chamber orchestra."<br/>
<br/>
"Probably, yeah. She's just excited I guess," replies Willa before turning back to you. "But that's just how you are, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right!" you giggle.<br/>
<br/>
Which is true: Caitlyn Smart can, at times, be an excitable person. She's not an ADHD riddled mess who's bouncing off the walls but even still, you're going to be playing the role of Caitlyn then that's something you'll have to get down. Because that's who you are right? Even if you look like this girl you're still Will Prescott. You know that much and that's what your brain is telling you.<br/>
<br/>
But if you're Will Prescott, then who's that boy walking arm-in-arm with Cindy? Because he happens to look an awful lot like you.</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111111312
author_id: rugal
title: Getting Into the Role
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Is he the guy who you saw earlier? It has to because he's the only person you know who looks like you. Unless... if you're this girl now then maybe she's you and it's some weird Freaky Friday body swapping scenario. But you dismiss that because that's the kind of stuff that only really happens in cartoons and movies so that doesn't make any sense. So it being the same guy you saw earlier is the likely explanation but if that's the case then why is Cindy with him? Do they know each other?<br/>
<br/>
You feel as if you should go up to them and figure out what's going on but you take a look at them and then a look over at this girl's friends.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, you okay?" asks Willa with concern showing on her face. "You look like something's got you spooked."<br/>
<br/>
You realize that you can't actually go and do that however. If this is some weird temporary thing you can't go messing up Caitlyn's life by making her friends think she's gone crazy. On the flip side if it's not a temporary thing then you can't go and make everyone think that <i>you're</i> crazy since you'll be the one having to live this life.<br/>
<br/>
"It's fine," you tell her as you give her a tiny smile. "I was just thinking that's all. I'm... really nervous about if I mess things up when I have to show off for them."<br/>
<br/>
"Well you shouldn't be worried 'cause you're gonna do great!" Willa grins. "You know how to be a cheerleader from your sister and everything and you've been doing all that dance and stuff right?"<br/>
<br/>
"If Eva likes you then I'd say you have a good shot," adds Taylor. "I mean I don't talk to her much but from what I see of her in eighth she can be..." She pauses as she tries to think of a diplomatic way to put it. "I'll just say that she's not easy to impress I think so you're well on your way there already."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, and look who's on their way <i>here</i>," says Willa.<br/>
<br/>
You follow her gaze and then immediately want to unfollow it as you see three of the most popular boys in the freshman class -- Chase Weir, Brett Landon and Elijah Denton -- walk in your general direction. Willa, to your embarrassment, calls out to them (and Brett specifically) causing them to turn to look at your trio. Chase gives a slight, confident smile of acknowledgment and you feel as if he's giving it directly to you which causes you to blush intensely at the thought. The three of them however say nothing else as they continue walking on past.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my god, Brett's such a hottie!" Willa exclaims as she practically melts into her chair.<br/>
<br/>
The part of you that wants to think of yourself as Caitlyn is overwhelming you right now and you hide your still burning face in your hands from excited embarrassment. One of the cheerleaders likes you and Chase looked at you with a positive expression! You could practically die right here because all told it's been a near perfect day based on those two things alone.<br/>
<br/>
"Why'd you have to call out to them?" you say in a muffled voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know why you two have to turn into such messes any time those guys are around," Taylor says. This causes you to lift your head and both you and Willa look at her. "They're just dumb jocks," she adds.<br/>
<br/>
Willa and you simply look at each other and start giggling. And while it's a bit fun letting yourself play the role of giggling school girl you have to wonder just why it is that, playing a part or no, you're getting so excited about some boy might have possibly been looking at you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So I'm only gonna be here until Tuesday," Willa says as the two of you stand outside the mall waiting for Willa and Caitlyn's mothers to pick you up. Taylor's already been gone for a few minutes.<br/>
<br/>
"Why's that?" you ask with surprise. "It's not anything bad is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well no," she says, "actually it's great. State championships are on Saturday so I'm going to be there."<br/>
<br/>
"Willa that's so cool!"<br/>
<br/>
"I mean it is because if I can do well here then I'm likely gonna go to a whole bunch of events next year and probably get to elite and if I want to join the national team..." She grunts at that however. "But it's halfway across the state so mom and coach want to leave early so I can get settled in Wednesday and spend most of Thursday and Friday practicing and working out."<br/>
<br/>
"That does suck but if you have to do it it..." you trail off.<br/>
<br/>
"I know but I'm gonna miss how everything goes with you too," she says. "Maybe I will anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"Or maybe you won't if they do it tomorrow or Tuesday. But this is way more important than me impressing some cheerleaders so I can maybe get a spot on the squad two years from now."<br/>
<br/>
"Nuh uh!" exclaims Willa emphatically. "That's important too 'cause it's you and like if that's your dream then I want you to get it. If you don't then I'm gonna be bummed."<br/>
<br/>
"Well maybe I should wait until after Saturday to tell you anything," you tell her. "I wouldn't want to mess you up."<br/>
<br/>
"No way! You're gonna tell me as soon as you know because otherwise I'll be worried sick!"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay okay I'll tell you immediately," you laugh. You see Caitlyn's mother pull up and you continue to stay in Caitlyn Mode and give her a tight, more sisterly than friendly, hug. You take note of how much shorter it seems like she is than you. From what Caitlyn's brain is telling you she herself is only around five foot three and you feel as if you have a good four or five inches on Willa.<br/>
<br/>
At home you eat dinner and take a quick shower before settling down for the night and checking your, or Cailtyn's rather, social media accounts to get caught up on any news or happenings outside of the events of today.<br/>
<br/>
As you lay there you feel relieved that you were able to pass this little test this evening without either of Caitlyn's friends suspecting that anything was wrong. They were even pretty fun to hang out with though how much of that is your own thoughts and how much of it are the girl's you're not quite sure. What are certainly the girl's are the ones your mind wanders to about the three boys you saw there too and especially Chase.<br/>
<br/>
You can feel something stirring and immediately your hand slides down your pants and panties. You want to pull back as it feels like it might be wrong but it's nothing Caitlyn hasn't done herself and you're feeling hot now so you try to push yourself aside as much as possible in favor of her.<br/>
<br/>
But you can't quite do it fully because you're finding the idea of getting turned on by those guys kind of weird so you instead think about Caitlyn's friends in a hope to just kill it there but it doesn't quite and your mind wanders even more to Cindy and Jessica and Eva. It's not long, then, that you bring yourself to climax and as you lay there afterwards you're only left with one question.<br/>
<br/>
Why did you think of a your best friend like that? No, why did you think of Caitlyn's best friend like that?<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Sunday proves to be rather uneventful for most of it. You have to wake up early to go to church (so nothing changing on that front) and when that's done you spend most of the day lazing around texting with friends, checking and updating social media as needed and getting caught up on any homework the girl might need to do. It's not until late in the afternoon when you head into the kitchen to get some water that you see someone who triggers intense emotions in the part of your psyche that's not Will Prescott.<br/>
<br/>
"Gwen!" you call out as you go over and give her a hug. "I didn't know you were coming over today!"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't plan on it but everyone else had stuff going on so I figured I'd drop by for dinner," she explains. "So what's up Cait? Mom told me you seemed pretty happy about something."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh right yeah I didn't text you did I?"<br/>
<br/>
So you go into the whole story about Eva Garner, who's one of the cheerleaders you inform Gwen, of calling you up because she said they were looking for people to recommend to Coach Tesla. More sheepishly you recount fainting but then more proudly add that it didn't seem to affect anything as they were still impressed and said they'd get back to you at some point this week to evaluate things.<br/>
<br/>
"That's great! See I told you that you had nothing to worry about," she says as she gives you another hug.<br/>
<br/>
"Did you do anything like that when you were a senior?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think so," she answers. "I was already helping Lucy to transition over to that role once I graduated and she was already on the squad. Actually I think her sister's on the squad this year too. Lucy mentioned that she complains about the captain all the time."<br/>
<br/>
Lucy? You remember a Lucy Vredenburg who was head cheerleader your sophomore year and was smoking hot so that means these girls were on the squad together. Gwen herself is incredibly attractive and the thought of both of them together in cheerleading uniforms causes a tingle to run through you though Gwen herself seems not to notice anything and you have to remind yourself again to push thoughts like that to the side when not alone.<br/>
<br/>
When you're alone that's one thing but around people you have to fully absorb yourself into the role of Caitlyn Smart. Your next test is getting through dinner with her family which you're able to do with no issue and there's something both a little exciting and a little unnerving at just how well you're able to subsume yourself in her personality. But you've been fairly lucky too since you've had ample time to take off the mental mask and be yourself so far.<br/>
<br/>
Tomorrow's going to be the big test because you won't really have any chances to "take a break" so to speak. You're going to have to keep up the Caitlyn act nonstop through an entire day of school.</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112
author_id: seuzz
title: The Famous Will Prescott
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You furrow your brow at the phone. It still takes several seconds for the fact to register: The name at the top of screen is "Will Prescott," and the text balloon <i>dude what up?</i> is being sent from your phone.<br/>
<br/>
Or at least from your account.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you want me to say back?" Keith asks.<br/>
<br/>
You grab the phone from him and scroll back in the messages. The previous texts you do at least recognize as ones you sent Keith on Friday in school. But this latest one? You blink at it again, and at the time: Today 8:34 AM: <i>dude what up?</i><br/>
<br/>
"Is it the guy who stole your phone?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess. I dunno." Your brain is too hazy to think clearly, and you tap at Keith's phone until you bring up his contact list. You don't know why there will be a clue there. And there isn't, unless it's that—<br/>
<br/>
"Dude!" you exclaim. "How come you're getting messages from Jessica? And Eva?" You gasp. "And Cindy Vredenburg?"<br/>
<br/>
He snatches the phone back and retreats behind the counter. "Dude!" you shout at him.<br/>
<br/>
"They were asking me about you!" he snarls as he studies the phone with a bent head. "I told you to be careful about them!"<br/>
<br/>
You're about to demand what the fuck and why the fuck when the bell on the door rings and a fat woman and two children come in. You glower as Keith helps them.<br/>
<br/>
And as you glower your stomach starts to do queer, unhealthy things. You are definitely not drunk anymore, and your head is pounding, and when you take a sip of the now cold coffee it's like your insides have decided to do a handstand. You shove your chair away and bolt for the restroom.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You spend a very long time cuddling with the toilet; each time you try to get to your feet your knees fold up. But you finally work up the strength to stand and lean against the sink. With shaky hands you wash your face, and study yourself in the mirror. You don't look nearly as sexy as you were feeling a couple of hours ago.<br/>
<br/>
Back outside you slump over the table and watch as Keith handles more customers. After twenty minutes there's a long enough break that he can come over to sit with you.<br/>
<br/>
"So I sent some texts around while you were—" he starts to say, then breaks off. "Am I gonna hafta mop up the bathroom?"<br/>
<br/>
"I put it all in the toilet and flushed lots of times," you assure him, but still he looks skeptical. "You sent some texts around?" you prompt him.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." His glare remains dark. "Jessica says it's Carlos who has your phone. I talked to him. He was trying to text me, got mixed up and used your phone instead."<br/>
<br/>
"How did Carlos get—? And how does Jessica know?" <br/>
<br/>
Then it comes back to you: Jessica taking your phone last night after you told her about how your dad would try calling you. "Well, can I get it back?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. You remember where Top Shelf Storage is?" Keith asks. You have to think a moment before you remember it as the place where you watched that long-ass desert movie with Carlos and Mike. "He's already down there, you can swing by and pick it up anytime before noon."<br/>
<br/>
It's almost ten-thirty now, so although you are still feeling ill, you stumble out the door and to your truck. It does you good to be in motion, though you are very careful as you make the straight shot down Twentieth to Top Shelf. Carlos meets you out front and hands you the phone.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry about the mix up," he tells you. "Glad to get it back to you, though."<br/>
<br/>
"How did you get it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Jessica called me last night, I met her out by the Warehouse and she gave me the phone. I gave your dad your alibi when he called. It was about eleven-thirty, I told him you were at Caleb's."<br/>
<br/>
You have a hard time buying that your dad would believe some strange kid who answered your phone, and you tell Carlos as much.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I just pretended to be you, and he bought it," he assures you. "Don't worry, you're golden." He claps you on the arm. "What are you doing now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not sure." The world has begun to spin again. "I don't wanna go home, not feeling like this. Suppose I could go find Caleb." You weren't fishing for an invitation, but you gratefully accept when Carlos suggests you hang out with him.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm doing my workout, but after that I was planning to watch a movie," he says. "I'll get Mike out here and we can watch it all together." He eyes you closely. "You'll probably like it better than <i>Lawrence of Arabia.</i> You, uh, don't want to do a video about that one, do you?" You shake your head. "We'll pick something you're comfortable talking about."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So that's where you spend most of the day. You text your mom after you're slouched in Carlos's studio to tell her you'll be spending the day with friends, and after Mike brings in some burgers you begin to feel somewhat human. Still, you half doze through the movie, even though it's one of the better <i>Star Trek</i> films, and only half listen as Mike and Carlos explain some of the nuances to you. By mid-afternoon, though, you are sufficiently recovered that you can go home.<br/>
<br/>
Though Carlos has assured you that you are "golden," you still enter the house with a feeling of trepidation, but your parents greet you as though your night and the world are entirely normal. Upstairs you strip off your clothes—they smell pretty funky, and you hope your mom and dad didn't notice—and take a long shower. Restored and in fresh clothes you feel ninety percent human again when you go downstairs for a light, early supper. Your dad asks about the movie you were watching with Caleb, and you improvise a story about changing out movies a couple of times in order to cover your ignorance of what Carlos had told him.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Eight o'clock:</i> You're sprawling on your bed and actually looking forward to making an early night of it when you decide to shoot Caleb a text to ask him about his night. You find that Carlos had turned your phone off, and when you turn it back on—<br/>
<br/>
It takes a deep breath, then explodes with texts. You have to scroll back and back and back and back and back and back to find where they start.<br/>
<br/>
The time stamp on the first is 11 PM—a text from a girl whose name you don't recognize, with a photo attached. It's dim and blurry, but you can make out the shape of the hat, and then you can make out it's a photo of you dancing with someone. Your finger numbs as you scroll down to find dozens of similar texts beneath: all from girls, some with photos attached, some that are just pictures of you, and some of them selfies of the text-senders. <br/>
<br/>
The common theme is that you are found desirable. The word "fuckable" gets used a couple of times, even.<br/>
<br/>
There's a morning-long lull in the texts—except for one from Caleb asking if you're awake or dead—before they resume. Photos are much fewer and far between here, and the texts are more restrained: more <i>hey, had a great time last night!</i> and <i>what r u doing today?</i> and fewer <i>come find me</i> and <i>mmmmmmmmm!</i><br/>
<br/>
And if that isn't enough, multiple people have sent you a link to x2z.com.<br/>
<br/>
You don't often go onto that site. At best, you've found, it's just a lot of bragging self-aggrandizement by kids who are already socially prominent. At worst—which is most often—it's scorn and bullying and vicious memes. There's even been some talk of getting the website to suspend its Westside stream, but nothing has ever come of it. And because you don't go there often, you have a hard time navigating it and understanding what exactly you are looking at.<br/>
<br/>
It's a variation on Tumblr, you suppose, except that the company itself "charters" accounts instead of letting individual users simply create one. Such charters are granted to "communities"—usually schools or clubs or churches or fan groups—and they are set up as a centralized "stream" into which people can drop pictures, notes, memes, videos, or anything else that they care to scribble or share. Hashtags can establish "sub streams" onto a dedicated topic. Posters are supposed to be registered, but there are numerous flaws that let anonymous trolls ply their usual filthy trade.<br/>
<br/>
You are terrified—but also piqued—to find that <i>#will prescott</i> is now one of the trending sub streams. With your heart in your throat you tap the link that takes you in.<br/>
<br/>
It's an endless stream of pictures of you. The most recent ones are from the Warehouse last night, some identical to the pictures you got in your texts, but many of them new to you. They show you dancing, drinking, lounging, sprawling with girls in your lap or standing with them cuddled in the crook of your arm. Some show you hanging out with guys, and you're amazed to discover shots of you with burly ballplayers by the bar, and backstage with some of the musicians. But the earlier photos in the stream are ones that Eva and Jessica took of you at the school yesterday afternoon: the "candid" shots of you in the library or at the water fountain, or posing for intimate selfies with some of the cheerleaders. With the change of outfits, they look like they were taken over the course of several days. Some are in locations you don't remember being in and having pictures taken.<br/>
<br/>
Then you find some of the photos tagged with another hashmark: <i>#overlooked hotties.</i> You tremble as you jump to that sub-stream, to find yourself swimming in the company of guys like Chuck Johnson, Karl Hennepin, Lee Reynolds, Justin Roth, Mitchell Belz, and others you don't recognize but who can plausibly fit someone's idea of a "hottie." You're stunned to see that your pictures are getting lots of likes.<br/>
<br/>
But it's the text from Stephanie Wyatt that is the night's topper: <i>get tgther tmrrw?</i></span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121
author_id: seuzz
title: A Consultation with an Expert
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You arrange to meet with Stephanie the next afternoon at the McDonalds on Orlando. She seems eager to see you, for she's already waiting when you get there, and you yourself get there early. She calls you into a back booth with a cheerful, "Hey! Will!"<br/>
<br/>
You're in your new things, but she's in her usual uniform—green polo shirt and athletic shorts. She gives you an appreciative once over as you approach, and you actually like the faint, glinting smile she's giving you for once. But  she also looks faintly puzzled. "So you had a fun night last night?" she says as you slide into the seat opposite her.<br/>
<br/>
You're smart enough not to wince in embarrassment, but you can't help shrugging. "My first time out there," you say. "I got a little out of control."<br/>
<br/>
"I hear you danced with Kristy."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh. Yeah.</i> "Not as much as I wanted." You hope that sounds diplomatic. "I went looking for her a couple of times—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" Stephanie's eyebrows go up.<br/>
<br/>
"But it was really crowded, and I was a little, um—" You rub your forehead.<br/>
<br/>
She snatches up a sugar packet and plays with it. "You can catch up with her tomorrow, right? You have English with her, don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." You say it with a gulp. Now Stephanie's stare is starting to make you nervous, and you feel all your conversation dry up.<br/>
<br/>
She picks up the threads by reaching across to tug at your shirt. "I noticed you decided to update your look."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. It's getting me a lot more attention," you hurriedly add before talk can die away again, "than I'm used to."<br/>
<br/>
"You hear from any of those girls you danced with?"<br/>
<br/>
Your breath comes in labored gulps. "Yeah. I didn't hear from Kristy, though. I don't think."<br/>
<br/>
"Were you looking for one from her?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. There were so many—" You take out your phone and start to scroll through it. No new texts have come through, since you've been too paralyzed with astonishment to reply to any. In fact, you're too paralyzed to respond when Stephanie snatches the phone from you and starts scrolling through it herself.<br/>
<br/>
"Whoa," she murmurs. "You're popular."<br/>
<br/>
"Famous," you mumble in the back of your throat as you recall the word that Blake Whosists applied to you.<br/>
<br/>
"And you didn't get one from Kristy. I already knew that. But you can talk to her tomorrow. In person." Her eyes get very hard as she holds your gaze in hers. "What are you gonna do about the rest of these?"<br/>
<br/>
It all seems to turn loose at once. Your guts slump in what feels like a landslide, and you fall across the table. "I don't know, Stephanie," you whisper. "I've never had anything like this happen before!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
She listens with a marvelous mix of sympathy and sternness as you stammer out your confusions. "I don't know what to do with these, uh, girls," you confess. "Most of them I don't even know! And what do they want from me?"<br/>
<br/>
"They want to get to know you," she replies. "You know that. You're not that clueless."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just used to it!"<br/>
<br/>
"I get that too. Better get used to it though, fast. And you're not gonna leave 'em hanging, are you? Not if you don't want them thinking you're a dick."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want that!" you gasp. "But it's already been, like, two days."<br/>
<br/>
She grunts. "That's easy to explain. You tell them your parents confiscated your phone on account of you came home smashed. Then you tell them how much you loved seeing them and that you want to see them at school."<br/>
<br/>
"There's so many of them!"<br/>
<br/>
"You always gotta have something to whine about, don't you, Prescott? Here, lemme help." She lays your phone next to hers, and scrolls through your texts while tapping something into hers.<br/>
<br/>
As she works, she continues to probe you with questions. "How many of these girls do you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hardly any. Most of them I don't even know their names!"<br/>
<br/>
"Then most of them probably only know yours. Don't worry, they're more scared of you than you are of them. What about Kristy?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. What about her?"<br/>
<br/>
She looks up. "How well do you know her?"<br/>
<br/>
You can only shrug weakly. "I know who she is. She's on the basketball squad with you, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. But you know her name and you know that much about her? Which is more than you know about—" She checks your phone. "Becca Daly?"<br/>
<br/>
"I never heard of her at all."<br/>
<br/>
"Right." Stephanie falls silent as she scrolls and taps. "You been watching her for a long time? Kristy, I mean?" she asks when she resumes.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, not like I'm a <i>stalker,</i>" you protest. She cocks an amused eyebrow at that. "Um, when Eva asked me if there was someone I specially wanted to run into at the Warehouse, and she suggested Kristy, I—" You break off at the puzzled expression Stephanie has turned onto you. "What?"<br/>
<br/>
"Eva suggested it?" She listens with growing puzzlement as you relate the background of your attendance at the Warehouse: How Eva invited you out, and suggested that she arrange for Kristy to be there for you if you were "specially interested" in her. But she only says "Huh" when you're done, then adds, "So you <i>weren't</i> especially interested in Kristy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I was after Eva mentioned her. Before that I wouldn't have—" You swallow the word <i>dared.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Well, be sure to talk to her tomorrow. You have to talk to these girls too. Like I said, if you don't want to want them to start calling you a dick." She taps her phone, and your own phone dings with a received text. "I'll walk you through it," she says as she turns your phone back toward you.<br/>
<br/>
She's arranged the names of the girls who have texted you or tagged you on x2z in a series of lists. "These girls I don't know," she says of the longest list. "You'll have to text them back yourself, try to figure out who they are, find them at their lockers or something. These girls"—her finger trails down to the next list—"they all hang out together. Maybe you can meet them as a group or something." She flashes you a cold smile. "Maybe you'll get lucky, maybe you'll get some new friends. Same with these girls and these." She points to the next two lists. <br/>
<br/>
Her finger hovers next to Lane Overstreet's name. "I'll leave it to you if you like this kind of thing." You blush. "Last one is Dorothy Harmon," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Who?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
She smiles again, and again it's cold. "Well, that answers my next question." She scrolls through your texts and stops at a photo of you in a beanbag chair with a girl huddled up tightly in your lap. "Her."<br/>
<br/>
You gulp. "Oh. No, I don't know her."<br/>
<br/>
"You could have fooled a lot of people. Including her. Jesus, Will, how wasted were you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty fucking wasted."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that one's up to you too. Just be nice to her." She checks her phone, which has dinged, and makes a face.<br/>
<br/>
"This is a good place to break, 'cos I have to go," she says as she stands up, but she pauses long enough to give you one of the hardest and most penetrating stares you've ever received. "They're really throwing you in the deep end, though."<br/>
<br/>
"Who? What deep end?" Again, you are shot through with the kind of paranoia that Keith has been peddling at you.<br/>
<br/>
Instead of answering, she jabs you in the shoulder with a hard finger. "We'll have another party Friday night, don't know where yet, but I want you there. Ditch the Warehouse if anyone asks, you don't wanna go there too often." She chews on her lip, then jabs you again. "And we're gonna have a study session Wednesday night at the library. You're gonna be there too."<br/>
<br/>
"I am?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure you are." Her expression, without losing its flintiness, turns puzzled again. She hesitates, then softly mutters "Sure you are" again before turning to go.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Back home, you follow Stephanie's advice and start sending out replies to the girls who had texted you, all variations on a theme: <i>great to tlk to u, sry late gting back my dad took phone away all wkend bc i came home WASTED ysday morning, how r u?</i><br/>
<br/>
Most of your replies vanish without eliciting anything back—at least, not for the moment—but some spark conversations. You have a short back-and-forth with Jamie Bornholm, of the swim team, who proposes hanging out after school Monday to do your calculus homework together. (You share that sixth period math class with her.) You're non-committal (but tell her "like to!") on account of "some guys" are already trying to set up something for Monday afternoon. Not that they are, but you want insurance just in case you decide there's a better off than Jamie that comes along.<br/>
<br/>
You like Jamie, you suppose, but you're more intrigued by Kyra DaSilva, who claims to be a cheerleader at Eastman High. You talk to her about Eva and Jessica and Cindy, pretending more intimacy with them than is perhaps warranted. She doesn't invite you to meet up with her, but you have the impression that she would meet you if the invitation came from your side of the table.<br/>
<br/>
You're trying to extract yourself from a tiring conversation with someone named Patricia Bloch—who is either a prattling airhead or a freshman; you can't tell which—when you get a text from a surprising source: Cindy Vredenburg. <br/>
<br/>
<i>Doing a vid w carlos n mike,</i> she says. <i>Do it w me? Tmrow at 430?</i><br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213
author_id: seuzz
title: The Very Busy Monday
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You've got a lot of plausible hangout choices for Monday afternoon—which is a huge change from the usual for you—but you settle on doing the video. You're excited by the idea of doing something with Cindy, and of having schoolmates <i>see</i> you doing a project with her. It also gives you something you can talk about with those girls you're going to be meeting with. You can tell them (truthfully or not) that you are co-starring in a YouTube venture.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You are now mostly used to your new wardrobe, so you don't get the same tingle Monday morning that you got Friday when you get to school. You do still feel a surge of confidence in having on nice things—including a tie—and that confidence is strengthened by the memory of your trending on x2z over the weekend.<br/>
<br/>
But if you have a tingle, it comes from a different source. It comes from thinking of all the girls you're going to be talking to. <br/>
<br/>
Replies to your texts came trickling in over the evening and night, so that by morning all but a handful of the girls who texted you had replied back to your replies. (And the ones who didn't reply? You sent them follow-up texts, so that they'd at least know you were thinking about them.) You've organized them all on your cell phone like an appointment book.<br/>
<br/>
So instead of heading over to the library or to Walberg's classroom, as you usually do, you saunter over to the baseball diamond, where the school team is already practicing. There are three girls crouching on the bleachers, and they smile at you as you hop up the steps to them. Two of them scoot aside so you can sit between them. The third sits slightly apart. You only know their names, not having had any dealings with them before. The girls who flank you are named Reagan Hackett and Kayla Shea, while the one who hangs apart is Kerri Mullen. They are on the volleyball team—so Stephanie had noted in the list she made up. Reagan flirts with you pretty hard, and when she mentions a Friday-night party she aims to attend, you make a great show of making a note of it on your phone.<br/>
<br/>
Your best friend is in a pissy mood when you catch up to him in Walberg's classroom, and it's not improved when you ask him how his Friday night was. "Short and ugly," he retorts. He confesses to having left early on account of the "noise and assholes" and his not wanting to get blitzed (coughcough) like some people he knew. When you faux-innocently ask if he's been on x2z, he shakes his head, then gets <i>very</i> frosty after he's been on and found that you are <i>still</i> trending.<br/>
<br/>
Somehow, that makes you happy—happy enough that you're not bothered by the ostentatious way that Kelsey, Geoff, and the other AP assholes ignore you all before, during, and after class.<br/>
<br/>
You've no time to plumb Keith's attitude in second period, for Mia DeWitt comes over to chat. She wasn't one of the ones who texted you, but she hangs her boobs over your desk while confessing that she's been one of the ones upvoting your hashtag every time it shows up. You blurt out an invitation to get together to watch some movies, and enter a memo in your phone to find time with her. Some of the other girls in Mr. Hawks' class, you fancy, are watching her and you with slit-eyed jealousy.<br/>
<br/>
In third period you're stopped in the doorway by a scary bunch of dudes in muscle shirts and jeans; you don't know their names, but they usually skip class or hang out in the back when they do show up, and you do your best to ignore them. Today, though, they insist on talking, and they invite you to drop in at the quarry east of town the next time you're down for some shit or other. You tell them you might, if you can borrow a skateboard. (One of them has one over his shoulder.) That elicits good-natured guffaws.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Fourth period: You go over to talk to Kristy, who regards you with grave interest. "Sorry I didn't get to dance with you more," you tell her. "I looked for you but I lost you."<br/>
<br/>
"You looked kind of preoccupied," she says in a very neutral tone.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I'm not usually that, uh—" You swallow hard. "I kind of lost my head. Um, Stephanie told me there's a party this Friday, but she doesn't know where. Are you going to it? I'm going to be there too, wherever it is."<br/>
<br/>
She smiles and says that'll be great. You look up at someone slaps you on the shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
It's Carlos. "We still on for this afternoon?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you reply, and before he can ruin your moment with Kristy by mentioning Cindy you hurriedly add, "We talking about <i>Wrath of Khan?</i> I'm doing a video for these guys," you explain to Kristy. "Movie review thing for YouTube." She's polite enough to pretend to be impressed.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Lunch:</i> You ditch your friends to eat in the cafeteria with some other girls you made a date with. Brianna Gould wears too much makeup for your taste, and the leopard-skin prints are a little too much; but you're more taken with her friend Katie Byrd, who lives up to her surname by being small and flighty and eager to talk about music. They both seem very interested in you, and their two friends Rebecca and Eric—who have their arms around each other—are also keen to talk. You improvise some complimentary opinions about the bands that played on Friday night, but when they ask if you're going out to the Warehouse next Friday you tell them you've already made other plans; when they remind you that the Warehouse will be equally as hopping on Saturday, though, you pronounce yourself interested in going‚if Brianna and Katie are.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Seventh period:</i> Five girls skip their class to join you in the library for your study hall. One of them, Katy, even admits to skipping out on basketball practice so as to sit in on the social session. You soon discern from the conversation that two of the girls‚ Madison Fortney and Dana McGuire—already have boyfriends are only there for company, which leaves Katy, Abby Derr, and Karen Rogers as the ones who might have a more than passing interest in you. Abby is too fat and plain for your tastes, and you're not keen on the bad job she's done of dyeing her hair green. Karen? She seems very shy, hardly talks, and doesn't look at you while hiding her face behind long blonde hair and the blue ski cap that she's jammed down all the way down to her eyebrows. She had sent you a number of texts on Saturday, but she sure acts terrified of you now.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Eighth period:</i> You skip Astronomy, as one of your correspondents, Alexandria Hull, is in there and has offered to take notes for you while you meet with her friends Jazmin and Danielle. They turn out to be sophomores, and they are very aggressive. They press up close to you, and play with your hat and hair, and talk about those friends they have who are dating guys who are seniors. It's very exciting, but also kind of scary for they all but bully you into flirting back, and though you hold your own you are relieved when the final bell rings.<br/>
<br/>
Not once during the day, though, did you manage to catch up to Dorothy Harmon, the girl who made out with you Friday night and most of Saturday morning. She never sent you a text.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's been a dizzy, busy day, and you come close to cancelling that video shoot. You're glad you didn't, though, when you find Cindy waiting for you outside the storeroom. She runs up to you with a squeal and squeezes your arm. "Did you have fun Friday?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
You tell her you did, and refrain from asking her about her Friday night. You're not sure you remember correctly, but didn't she break up with her boyfriend that night? And for your part, you only mumble something when she asks you about Kristy.<br/>
<br/>
Mike and Carlos and their friends Philip and Josiah are already waiting inside. They put you and Cindy behind the desk and spend twenty minutes fiddling with lights. While they do that, they try to remind you of the movie you watched, and the sorts of things that you could say about it. "Don't worry," Cindy whispers in your ear when you lapse into a befuddled silence. "They can make it look good in the editing."<br/>
<br/>
You sincerely hope so, for you are far too tongue-tied during the shoot that follows, and you spend almost two hours doing lots and lots of takes as you try to say something that sounds sort-of intelligent in a way that is even slightly articulate. The guys filming you look grimly unimpressed with your work by the time things wrap up.<br/>
<br/>
Cindy was a real sport about it, though, and almost single-handedly keeps your spirits up. They correspondingly sink when you exit the storeroom alone, for she has to stay behind to make some extra scenes, while you are probably already going to be late for supper. You can almost feel your heart settling toward your appendix as clamber into your truck and steer for the gate.<br/>
<br/>
There's a truck on the other side of it, waiting to go in as you go out. You toss its driver a casual glance as you pass each other, and do a double take.<br/>
<br/>
It's Seth Javits—Cindy's ... ex?<br/>
<br/>
He looks very pissed off.</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112131
author_id: rugal
id: NWH3P5YK7
title: Tuesday Twists and Turns
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>For a moment you sit at the exit, waiting to turn onto Twentieth Street but unsure of what to do. A pissed off Seth Javits is going into the storage facility, likely looking for Cindy. When he does, he'll find her with a bunch of guys and then, you surmise, the shit will really hit the fan. Part of you thinks that you should go back and help but as soon as the idea comes you know that it's stupid because what exactly would you be able to even do? You are a bit curious to see what could be happening but your sense of self-preservation overrides your curiosity.<br/>
<br/>
You turn out onto Twentieth and then make the drive home. After dinner and homework you spend the rest of the night browsing x2z and your text, checking and replying to more messages or continuing conversations from yesterday. But even when asked, you make no firm commitments and only say that you're seeing how the weekend develops before you solidify any plans. But you do promise a few of them to keep them updated. Then you turn in for the night and possibly due to sheer, unexpected exhaustion, find yourself falling asleep quicker than usual.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't talk much with Caleb beyond general light conversation as you walk to Walberg's classroom and once you get there, you'll tell him that you'll catch up as you break off and beeline towards Dorothy who, you realized yesterday, sits on the other side of the room. "Hey," you greet her as you walk over, "how's it going?"<br/>
<br/>
Her attention drifts from her phone to you and you're stuck by the fact that she's actually very cute, with large eyes and a pert nose. Jeez, you spent a long time being intimate with this girl and you can't even remember it? You'll have to remember to not go hard on the alcohol next time you're at the Warehouse.<br/>
<br/>
"It's goin'," she says in a rather lazy manner. Her expression, a sort of amused and sleepy smile, makes you hope that it's just how she talks instead of her showing you disinterest.<br/>
<br/>
"I've been getting a lot of messages over the last few days, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, you have," she says without changing expression or tone.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I haven't gotten anything from <i>you</i>. What's up?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Mmm, well y'know you just seemed pretty busy and all. Also, I guess I'm just kinda embarrassed."<br/>
<br/>
"Embarrassed about what? Not about being with me." You try to say it with humorous, but confident, self-deprecation. The kind of thing that invites a positive (for your ego) rebuttal.<br/>
<br/>
"Nuh uh, definitely not," Dorothy replies, taking the bait. "It's just... I'm not normally like that so like, it was kind of embarrassing for me. I just felt real awkward about it, right? So I was just avoiding you for a little bit 'cause it was reminding me of that. But I'm fine."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're not upset at me or anything like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Upset?" she asks and pauses for a moment. "Nah, it's fine. I don't have a reason to be upset about anything. We're cool."<br/>
<br/>
"That's good then because you know, I was thinking maybe we could get together?" That elicits only a noise of indeterminate meaning. "I was told by, uh, some friends that there's going to be a party this Friday."<br/>
<br/>
"Friday, huh? Where at?"<br/>
<br/>
Maybe it's the events of the last few days but where before you'd wilt, now you're feeling a little more confident so resolve to respond in a way you feel portrays some of that newfound backbone. "They haven't said anything about that yet but I'll tell you once I know. I'd really like to see you out there and get the chance to hang out some more outside of—" You're cut off by the first bell—the warning bell really—to signal that class is going to be starting. "Shit," you mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"I'd be fine with getting together whenever," Dorothy says before you can walk away. "But okay. Tell me where that party is and I'll see you there." With a snicker she adds, "Or maybe we can go there together."<br/>
<br/>
You don't know if she's actually serious about that or if she's just needling you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Second period comes and as you wait for class to start you ask Keith if he's heard anything from Mike and Carlos about yesterday. "Nah, I ain't heard a thing," he drawals. "Why? Somethin' happen?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. I was out there doing some stuff with them and Cindy was out there too," you say which causes him to perk up. "We just did normal stuff," you say when you see his reaction, "but when I was leaving I saw Seth coming in and I figured that he was probably there to find Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"Well nah, they ain't said nothin' to me. Prolly try askin 'em yourself if you're so worried," he answers.<br/>
<br/>
But before you can respond to, you feel a hand on your shoulder and and see Mia walk up next to you. "Will," she beams, "we still on for a movie some time? How's Friday sound?"<br/>
<br/>
"Friday... yeah, I'm heading out to a party on Friday so I don't know if that'll work," you answer.<br/>
<br/>
"A party... oh! Out at Cheswick's?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"That where it is?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's what some people were saying last night. You know him?" You shake your head. "Eastman guy. Here, wait," she says as she takes a notebook out of her backpack. She scribbles something, tears a bit out and then hands it to you. "That's his address. If Friday's no good for a movie then maybe I'll see you out there."<br/>
<br/>
"Count on it," you answer. She giggles and gives you a small wave as she heads over to her seat.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck man, you gotta let me get some'a that mojo you found," Keith states. "Goin' to a party with fuckin' Mia."<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, I'm probably going with Dorothy," you answer. "She said she wanted to go together last period."<br/>
<br/>
"Harmon? Fuck, then you're gonna be gettin' real lucky seein' as, well, ya know."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't."<br/>
<br/>
Keith looks at you and then grins. "Then you're bouta find out. Whatchu think about her?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess we spent a lot of time together making out whe I was at the Warehouse," you admit. "Only I don't remember it on account of being drunk. But she's cute and she seems nice so I'm not against going out to a party with her."<br/>
<br/>
Keith nearly doubles over. "Oh man, yeah you're in <i>good</i> wit' her then," he laughs. "Have fun I guess."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're still getting it a bit throughout the day. In fourth period Susie Lekuawehe, a pleasantly round Polynesian girl who you apparently were with at the Warehouse, asks if you're going to be out there this weekend too which earns you some grins from Mike and Carlos. You take the chance to ask them about what happened with Seth yesterday and they eventually assure you that nothing did. He stewed and threatened but Cindy got him to back off and then they left.<br/>
<br/>
At lunch Jessica asks you how things are going but doesn't do much more than that as she goes off with Yumi, Lin and Jenny. The real surprise happens at the end of eighth when Cassie catches your attention.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, um, so how's it going?" she asks which prompts a generic positive response. "That's good so, um, me and Melissa and a few others were going to get together at the library this evening for a study session. And I was wondering if you wanted to come along?"<br/>
<br/>
"To a study session?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, well, yeah! But it'll probably just be everyone talking because you know how those things are so if you don't want to go then that's fine. Uh, it won't just be girls there either so there'll be some guys there too if that helps. Or maybe it won't, I don't know. But if you want to come just show up. It's all really informal so don't sweat it if you can't."<br/>
<br/>
You assure her it's okay but you have no idea what you're doing yet. You're actually wondering if you should take her up on it because Melissa—her friend who was hanging around Andrew Harding and Lee Reynolds when Cassie was talking to her—is pretty cute when you're accosted by the Garners who have Stephanie in tow with them.<br/>
<br/>
"Will!" Eva calls out to you as she grabs your arm. "We were wondering if you wanted to hang out with us today."<br/>
<br/>
"With you guys?" you ask stunned. Though they've been doing this for the last little while you still have a hard time believing it.<br/>
<br/>
"Well us, Cindy and Yumi," she answers. "You don't have to or anything but come on, four beautiful cheerleaders want your attention."<br/>
<br/>
"And Stephanie, I guess?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Stephanie rolls her eyes. "I can't go anywhere today, Prescott. My dad needs that bureau moved from the house into storage."<br/>
<br/>
"You looking for help?" you ask her.<br/>
<br/>
"Not <i>looking</i> but if you're offering..."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't steal him from us," Eva pouts.<br/>
<br/>
"Ah, well, I don't know if I'd be able to hang out with you guys either," you state. "Cassie asked me about coming out to a study session at the library."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, Chatterbox Cassie?" asks Jessica.<br/>
<br/>
"Ah, didn't know you had already had plans," adds Stephanie. "It's fine, we'll find someone to help. No big deal."<br/>
<br/>
But it <i>is</i> a big deal because while these invites from different girls and the attention they've all been paying to you is nice, it's still uncharted territory for you and Stephanie has, so far, done a lot to help you out. So you'd kind of like to stay on her good side and continue picking her brain about what you should do.<span class="fngigffkgem3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121313
author_id: rugal
id: QJKX9VSXQ
title: A Little Help from Stephanie Wyatt
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"No, it's alright," you quickly say. "I didn't actually agree to anything. I'm totally fine with helping you out."<br/>
<br/>
Stephanie studies you for a moment and you wonder if she's going to protest but she just shrugs. "Okay, we've just got to stop by my place first then. I'll text my dad to tell him we're coming." She turns her attention to the twins. "Sorry for stealing him away from you."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry about it," Jessica says as she looks at her sister and smirks. "We don't need a guy to have fun. We just thought it'd liven things up a little bit."<br/>
<br/>
"See you around," Eva waves to you as she and her sister take off.<br/>
<br/>
You and Stephanie walk to your truck in silence and it's only once you've gotten in and gotten onto Borman that you finally speak. "Hey, so you said 'that bureau.' Is that the one we moved out to your grandmothers?"<br/>
<br/>
"Grandmother? Aww shit, no I didn't mean that," she says. "There's this stupid one that's been stuck in a really annoying place in the house for a long time. Mom finally convinced Pop to get it out of the house and take it over to the store. That's what I meant. Like 'that fucking bureau' or something."<br/>
<br/>
"The store?"<br/>
<br/>
"Argosy? Furniture store? Pop owns it, I never told you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, not really."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh, okay." Things are quite for an awkward moment as you're not really sure how to follow that up. It's Stephanie who speaks. "You gonna tell Cassie you're bailing on her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Am I—uh, not really I guess," you admit.<br/>
<br/>
"Why the fuck not?" she asks sharply.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, she said it was just a casual thing. Like just show up at the library or don't. So if I didn't show up I don't think it'd be weird," you explain. "She said there would be some guys there too so, you know, it just seemed like a general hangout."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that what you think?" she shoots back. "You know, Prescott, you can change your clothes but I guess you still got a lot of work to do to change being a dumbass. Send her a text and tell her that you're not gonna be able to make it."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't have her number. I couldn't text her if I wanted to."<br/>
<br/>
"Hm, well I don't have it either," she states. "Okay, well, tomorrow just apologize to her. Tell her something came up last minute and you couldn't make it."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think she's really going to care," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Just do it, Prescott, shit," she admonishes you. "When you said you'd help I should've just turned you down. The hell are you so eager to help me move stuff for, anyway? Usually you've gotta twist arms to get people to do it."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, I guess I just want to be helpful."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, uh huh. You got a crush on me or something?"<br/>
<br/>
You have to fight from jerking the wheel when you hear that. "Do I—" you sputter and yes, you'll admit to yourself that you're attracted to her but no way in hell would you ever think about trying to get with Stephanie Wyatt because you know that Stephanie Wyatt would never want to get with <i>you</i>.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just messing with you," she states matter-of-factly.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, if you want the truth," you begin, "it's just because you've been helping <i>me</i> a lot. I'm still new to all this shit, going to parties and having girls interested in me. So your, uh, advice is really helpful because I know that you're going to be direct."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, so how about this?" you start as you hit a red light. "Dorothy Harmon—uh you showed me some pictures of me and her—hadn't talked to me yesterday so I approached her today and she said that she wasn't mad at me or anything and that she was just feeling embarrassed because she's not normally, I guess, all into making out with guys all night or something."<br/>
<br/>
Stephanie suppresses a laugh. "Oh, no, go on," she waves you off when you ask her what's funny.<br/>
<br/>
"So I told her about the party on Friday that you mentioned and said I'd see her out there. But then she said she wanted me to <i>take</i> her."<br/>
<br/>
"I see. That why you didn't want to hang out with Cassie?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"Did you say you'd take Dorothy out there?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, not really. She brought it up but I thought she might have been fucking with me."<br/>
<br/>
"But do you want to?" Your silence at that question seems to confirm things for her. "So I think that's why you were so eager to turn down hanging out with Cassie or with Eva and Jessica. Because we're not into each other so it's safe, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"What's that supposed to mean?"<br/>
<br/>
The light turns green so you don't get a chance to see how she reacts, only hear. "Cassie was wanting you to spend some...<span class="nbsjbfsoatTK"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213131
author_id: rugal
id: RW2HGZQXR
title: Down by the River
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"Am I up for—sure, I guess," you find yourself agreeing before you've really had time to process. "I was kind of looking for something to do anyway on account of... you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Great, then go sit your ass down," Stephanie replies, giving you a small, friendly (?) shove.<br/>
<br/>
You sit impatiently through the eighth period, a nothing class that you couldn't really care much about. After the bell to end class rings Stephanie meets you outside and tells you the plan: that you'll follow her out while she picks up some food and then the two of you can hang out by the river. During this time, Keith texts you to ask if you're going to be coming out to storage unit but you demure. <i>"spending time w/ stephanie wyatt,"</i> is the answer you finally give when he keeps pestering you as to why.<br/>
<br/>
The two of you separate at her car but she tells you that you should wait until the parking lot clears out a bit so it's easier to follow her. So you do just that, waiting in your truck until you can easily make out her car. You pull up beside her to let her know that it's good. You follow her out of the school and through town until she pulls into Dairy Queen and tells you to wait while she runs in to get food. It's about ten minutes of you on your phone before she taps on your window and holds up some bags.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
From the DQ, you follow her out into Acheson and then the river. There's scattered groups here and there but it's a Wednesday and still early so finding a spot away from people is rather easy.<br/>
<br/>
Once you're parked, Stephanie comes around to the back of your truck. "Can you unlock the tailgate?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"You want to sit in the bed?"<br/>
<br/>
She rolls her eyes. "No, I want to eat on the ground," she snarks.<br/>
<br/>
So you unlock it, she opens it and hops into the bed and you follow her. You're up against the cab while she's sitting on top of one of the sides. For a good long while the both of you quietly eat with only a few words said until your phone buzzes as some messages come in.<br/>
<br/>
"What's up?" asks Stephanie when she sees you looking at it.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, nothing, it's from Dorothy. She said she woke up really sick this morning and stayed home. That she missed my messages because she was asleep most of the day." You take a look as another message comes in. "Says it might be the flu or something and that she doesn't think she'll be at school tomorrow either."<br/>
<br/>
"You sound disappointed."<br/>
<br/>
"Do I?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can hear it in your voice, Prescott," she points out, "but I don't think that you should be."<br/>
<br/>
"I shouldn't be disappointed? Why not?"<br/>
<br/>
"You want me to be honest, right? That's why you keep coming to me for advice."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, sure," you admit.<br/>
<br/>
"Dorothy's got a reputation, you know? Of being kinda easy." You admit that you didn't know and that you don't really know her at all. "Well she does. That's how people think of her, that she just likes getting intimate with guys."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that how she actually is?" you ask. "I don't think we... uh, well, I guess we spent a lot of time making out but I think even if I was drunk I would have remembered if we did anything more than that."<br/>
<br/>
"Dunno," she shrugs, "I only know what gets spread around. So I'm just saying don't get your hopes up too much about her. She might not have seen it as a big thing."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," you respond, "she seemed kind of pissed. She <i>said</i> she wasn't but... well, I just kind of felt like she was. I mean just because people, uh, think that she's easy that doesn't mean she still can't be interested in somebody right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, sure," Stephanie answers while looking thoughtful. "You're interested in her, though?"<br/>
<br/>
"A little, I guess," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Even if she actually is a slut, you wouldn't have a problem?" she presses. "You know, you wouldn't be worried that she'd be fucking around on you or something like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I," you start but trail off. No, you probably <i>would</i> worry about that, you guess. But would it be wise to actually <i>admit</i> that you would?<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry, I guess I'm being judgmental," she states as she moves to sit down beside you. "I've got my own problems when it comes to love and shit so I guess that colors everything for me."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh," is all you can muster.<br/>
<br/>
She lets out an annoyed grunt. "Fuck, I don't want to admit this but, you know, there's a guy I've liked but he was—is—with someone else. And I've tried to always say that well, it's just a crush and all but then I see him with someone else and... I dunno, it makes me upset," she admits. "Like oh, you'll look at <i>other</i> girls like that but you won't look at <i>me</i> the same way? It's a shitty feeling. So I guess I just get kinda bitter about."<br/>
<br/>
Another silence falls over the two of you that Stephanie again breaks. She turns to you and gives you a small smirk. "Prescott, you're going to that party on Friday, right?" She asks, to which you tell her you are. "Well then fuck it, let's just go together."<br/>
<br/>
"What!?" you ask in surprise. "The two of us?"<br/>
<br/>
"What did you think I meant?" she retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it's just... Dorothy wanted to go with me," you answer.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah but you said she's go the flu right? Don't see how she'd be going to a party if she's sick as a dog."<br/>
<br/>
"That's true," you say, "but I mean the two of us going together? Wouldn't that be weird?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're both going to the party anyway, right?" she asks. "If you mean 'cause I've been kinda bitchy to you... well, I've had the chance to look at you a little differently."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Look, don't think I'm asking you out on a date or anything like that," she responds. "Truth be told, I always thought you were kind of a wimp. But I guess I'm seeing now that you're a pretty nice and helpful guy and I don't hate spending time with you or anything."<br/>
<br/>
"That's still a big change," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"If you say so," she sniffs. "But maybe I'm looking to change things up or something. I've been focusing on... well, a lot of stupid stuff with this situation with Garner."<br/>
<br/>
"Garner," you say out loud. "Marc Garner? Is that who you like?" There's disappointment in your voice, you realize, because there's no way you'd ever be able to measure up to someone like him. Mark is handsome, outgoing, athletic and popular so of course even someone like Stephanie, and half the girls in school, would be into him.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, yeah," she says seemingly surprised that it even slipped out. "But I'm wondering now if maybe I haven't been so hyper-focused on him that I've been passing up other opportunities. Shit, I've even been allowing myself to... well, it's not important and it's real dumb so I'm thinking of backing off." She gives you another, actually friendly smile. "Anyway, don't worry about it Prescott. Just swing by on Friday, pick me up and have some fun out at Cheswick's. Look at it like a chance to start over."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, okay," you finally acquiesce. "I'll pick you up then."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That's about where things leave off between the two of you by the time you part, though you do exchange numbers.<br/>
<br/>
Thursday turns out to be uneventful. Dorothy's still out and when you text Stephanie about messaging her, she tells you it's probably best to give her some space for right now and let her rest. Speaking of Stephanie, she's hanging out with friends after school so you don't get the chance to talk to her and the messages from girls are starting to slow down as well. You wind up just spending the afternoon with Caleb which you feel like you haven't done in a while.<br/>
<br/>
Friday, however, is different as you're filled with anticipation for what's to come tonight. But to even get there you have to first get through school and school offers a surprise when you walk into Walberg's room and spot Dorothy and as it's been a few days since you've really seen or talked to her you separate from Caleb to head over.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," you greet her. "You feeling any better?"<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy looks up at you and you're almost taken aback by how haggard she appears. Her hair still has a bit of messiness and her eyes appear sunken in, like she's barely been getting any sleep. "Oh, Pre—uh, Will. Yeah, I'm a little better but still not..." She pauses and you note how weary her voice sounds. "I'm not gonna be able to go out to that party but, uh, are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well yeah," you state. "Actually, Stephanie wants me to pick her up and take her out there with me and I kind of said I would."<br/>
<br/>
"Stephanie?" she asks with sudden energy.<br/>
<br/>
"Wyatt," you say.<br/>
<br/>
She seems to be thinking for a moment. "Hey, do you think you can ditch the party tonight and hang out with me instead?" She asks.<br/>
<br/>
"But you're still sick, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm almost over it, that's why I'm at school," she insists. "I just... I really wanna talk to you, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'd like to but I already promised Stephanie I'd take her out there and, uh, I <i>really</i> don't want to risk pissing her of," you state. "She's been helping me out with you. With a lot of stuff really because this is all kind of new to me. So I figure owe it to her. Oh, but what about tomorrow? We can get together for lunch or something."<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy mulls it over before finally sighing. "Sure, okay. We'll meet up tomorrow," she relents. "Just... don't do anything crazy tonight, okay? There's a lot of stuff I wanna talk to you about."<br/>
<br/>
You part as the bell rings with an oddly good feeling. Because it seems like Dorothy is actually kind of jealous over you hanging out with Stephanie. Imagine that. A girl jealous over you. It's certainly a new and odd but not altogether unwelcome thought.<span class="fmjggefefhm3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132
author_id: seuzz
title: A Conspiracy Unmasked
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You hesitate before turning out onto Twentieth Street. <i>I'm not running away,</i> you tell yourself. <i>I don't even know if there's something back there to run away from. Besides, what makes me think I'll do anyone any good if go back?</i><br/>
<br/>
But the longer you hesitate, the more wretched you feel—the more you feel like you <i>are</i> running away from something.<br/>
<br/>
You slam your truck into reverse, wheel around a hundred-and-eighty degrees, and drive back into the complex.<br/>
<br/>
<i>What the fuck am I doing?</i> you wonder as you park your truck next to Seth's. <i>If the guys in there can't handle Seth, how much help can I add? And if they can handle Seth, then what's the point in my being there?</i><br/>
<br/>
But you know the answer to these questions, too, though it makes your gut flop like a stranded fish.<br/>
<br/>
You're going back because you want to impress Cindy. You're going back so she'll see that you were worried about her, and so maybe she'll see you—<i>Oh my God</i>—as a potential boyfriend.<br/>
<br/>
Your knees are shaking as you hop down the long corridor toward Carlos's studio. They shake harder as a babble of voices comes spilling out of the distant, open doorway. Cindy's shrill soprano rises high over the others, until it is cut down by Seth's hard bark.<br/>
<br/>
Two bay doors are open. You glance into the first long enough to see that it only contains only a workout bench and a foot locker. The next is the studio. You're shaking all over as you step over the threshold.<br/>
<br/>
Seth has his back to you, but Cindy and Mike are facing him from behind the desk. Philip and Josiah are watching from a corner. <br/>
<br/>
"—fucking now, Cindy," Seth is shouting. He jabs a forefinger at the floor. "You're done dicking me around. You tell me to fuck off or not, but if you do, I'm done coming back."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy glances at you but doesn't seem to see you. Maybe it's on account of the tears flooding her eyes. She puts her hand under her nose and sniffs hard. "Oh, Jesus, Seth," she cries. "Don't <i>be</i> like this! Just 'cos I want to make a— a <i>video</i>—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, just 'cos she wants to make a video," you blurt out. Seth whirls, and—God only knows how—you don't flinch as he glares at you. "Chill out, man."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck off!" Seth shoves you across the corridor, then turns back into the studio. "This isn't about a fucking video, Cindy," he snarls. "It's about you dicking me around—"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't talk to her like that!" you yell. Seth turns around again, and run up to put your chest at his. (And you have to go up on tiptoes, God damn it.)<br/>
<br/>
"Will," Philip says in a quiet, warning voice, but it's too late. Seth grabs two fistfuls of your shirt and hauls you up until you're not even on tiptoes anymore.<br/>
<br/>
"If you don't want me coming to find you special on Monday—" he snarls into your face. His face and his eyes glow, and little specks of spit fleck your cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
But that's as far as he gets. He does a double-take at something behind you, and his expression falls.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, just come find me Monday," you yell, then turn to see what he's looking at, since he's not paying any attention to you.<br/>
<br/>
It takes you a moment to recognize the persons standing behind you at your elbow, for he is decked out in a wardrobe just like your new one, and you're not yet used to thinking of the button-down denim shirts and the khakis (not to mention the suspenders and the Indiana Jones-style hat) as yours. And even when you see the face—rabbity eyes and crooked grin under a thatch of straw-like hair—it looks like it belongs to a stranger.<br/>
<br/>
But then it all comes into focus. You're looking at someone who looks exactly like ... you.<br/>
<br/>
And at the same time you do a double-take at him, he does a double-take at you. You feel your own jaw slacken, and watch as his does too.<br/>
<br/>
"How many fucking retards are there here?" Seth snorts in your ear.<br/>
<br/>
As for your doppelganger, he's not a reflection—though maybe his expression of startled horror mirrors your own. He swallows and murmurs, "Oh shit." His mouth twists up into a sickly grin, and his eyes start to water.<br/>
<br/>
But neither you nor he can break off staring at each other.<br/>
<br/>
There's a babble of voices inside the studio—"Oh, Christ"; "What are you doing?"—and desk drawers open and slam. Seth thrusts you away and your double hops back a couple of steps. "Philip?" he says. "Uh, what the fuck you wanna—?" Then Cindy shrieks "Oh my God!" and you glance over in time to see Seth first sink to his knees and then fall sprawling onto his face. Philip is standing over him with a grim expression while Mike, Josiah, and Cindy look on with surprise and horror.<br/>
<br/>
"Catch him too," Philip says, snapping his fingers at your double, who looks between you and Philip with eyes wide and his mouth forming a perfectly circular "o."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, what?" your double cries. "No!" He points at you. "Him, guys! He's the real—! Oh, <i>fuck!"</i> <br/>
<br/>
No one moves, and time seems to stop.<br/>
<br/>
Your doppelganger raises his hands. "Okay, look, let's just— Will," he says, addressing you, but also glancing into the studio at the others. "If we explain to you what's going on, will you promise not to freak out?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You take it all pretty calmly, you suppose, even the bit where they bind Seth up with bungee cords and haul him into the workout bay. Maybe it's because you're <i>still</i> not used to thinking of the guy in the hat and suspenders and hiking boots as yourself, so you're not too shocked to find there's someone else around who has that look. <br/>
<br/>
Also, his name is Carlos. Carlos Montoya. And he looks like you because—<br/>
<br/>
"It's a mask," Philip explains. "Well, a special sort of mask." He frowns and blinks behind his black-framed glasses. "Everything we think we know about the universe will have to be revisited," he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"Watch out, Will," Carlos says. "Give him a chance to start talking about Einstein and Hawking, and he'll take it." To Philip he says, "Just call it 'magic', man. So much easier that way."<br/>
<br/>
But it's probably Philip's neutral, scientific way of talking—he makes it sound like he's talking about a particularly ingenious bit of electrical wiring—that keeps you from freaking out too hard.<br/>
<br/>
"It" is the mask that he pulled off of Carlos's face. It didn't look like a mask when Carlos was wearing it—it looked exactly like your face—and it doesn't look like your face now that Philip is holding it. It looks like it's carved from a bluish, bone-like material, and it has the rough size and shape and dimensions of a classical tragedian's mask, with a brow, nose, cheekbones, chin, and lips. No eye holes, though.<br/>
<br/>
"It copies a person," Philip explains. "Then, when you seal it up, you put it on your face, and it will turn you into a physical duplicate of the person you copied into it. The body, too, not just the face. There's also an extra item that you can attach to it, that will copy the person's memories and personality traits and abilities." He blinks. "That makes it possible to pull off a perfect impersonation."<br/>
<br/>
"So you guys copied me," you say, making the inference. "And one of you was going to pretend to be me? A perfect impersonation?" <br/>
<br/>
Yes, it's remarkable how calm you're feeling. (Though you can't rule out making a dash for it, screaming, once you've got them to tell their full tale.)<br/>
<br/>
"Just to make a video," Philip says. "You, uh, weren't at your best in the bits we filmed. We thought we could improve things a bit for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh." Normally you'd feel insulted, but you've got other things to worry about. "And Keith—" <br/>
<br/>
You turn to Cindy, who has been sitting very quietly behind the desk all this time. A sickly grin—like she's clenching her teeth to keep from throwing up—spreads across her face. "Dude," you say to her. "You're all done up like Cindy because ... ?"<br/>
<br/>
"Um ... to fuck with Seth?" she squeaks. "And to help <i>you</i> out?"<br/>
<br/>
"Help me out how?" you ask. With a sweep of your arm you take in the studio and Carlos, who though he hasn't your face anymore is still dressed up in duplicates of the clothes that you're wearing. "Why did you want to give me a makeover and stuff?" Anger and humiliation fight for control of your voice. <br/>
<br/>
"A sociology experiment," Fairfax says. "You said something to Keith some time back, about not being popular. We decided to see if it would be possible to <i>make</i> someone popular. You."<br/>
<br/>
"And that's why you all were pretending to be ..." Even now you can hardly voice the names.<br/>
<br/>
But Philip nods. "Yes. That was us. Keith was pretending to be Cindy, and Mike and Carlos were pretending to be Eva and Jessica. Josiah and I have been pretending to be Maria Vasquez and Chelsea Cooper. Respectively."<br/>
<br/>
"And where are the real girls?" That's the bit that you weren't clear on when they first tried to explain how they were impersonating some of your classmates.<br/>
<br/>
"They're okay. They're, um, hidden under masks of ourselves. Someone has to impersonate us while we're impersonating them, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course," you agree, though you still don't understand how that possibly works. You clap your hands together and take a deep breath to stop from trembling. "So what now?" <br/>
<br/>
"Well if we could have a bit of your hair," Fairfax says.<br/>
<br/>
"What for?"<br/>
<br/>
His lips whiten. "To help with the project. I'm reluctant to say more, of course. We can count your discretion?"<br/>
<br/>
You nod. As if you have a choice.<br/>
<br/>
"Then what's next, I suppose, depends on whether you want to take off and take home, or stick around to watch."<br/>
<br/>
"What?" Cindy exclaims. "No, come on. He's part of the club now!"<br/>
<br/>
Fairfax blinks at her, then turns a querying gaze upon you.</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321
author_id: seuzz
title: Newbie Orientation
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Look, the only way I'm getting mixed up in this," you tell Fairfax, "is if I know exactly what's going on."<br/>
<br/>
His brow creases. "But you know what's going on, Will," he says. "I just got through explaining it."<br/>
<br/>
"So why do you want my hair? And what are you going to do with Seth?" All that guff about the real Cindy Vredenburg and the other girls being "basically okay" sounds a little hollow when they've got Seth Javits—no matter how deservingly—trussed up inside another storage bay.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, maybe I should explain things to him," Cindy says. She stands up from behind the desk. "Just us. Take a little walk?" she asks you.<br/>
<br/>
She says she's really Keith Tilley—imagine that, your ugly, dumbass friend Keith disguised as the gorgeous cheerleader Cindy Vredenburg—but you can hardly say "no" to her anyway. You shiver a little with delight as she totters over to you in her heels. "We'll just take a little walk around the lot," she says, and you shiver harder as she takes your arm in hers.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So, first of all," she says after you're halfway down the main hallway and out of earshot of the others, "I guess I'm sorry we didn't tell you about all this before. Or that I didn;t. I was kind of mad at you, though."<br/>
<br/>
"For what?"<br/>
<br/>
"For blowing me off. All those times I tried getting you to come out here, to be in one of our videos—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, how long have you been hanging out with these guys? How long have you been friends with them.<br/>
<br/>
She drops your arm. "Dude! I've been friends with them for, like, most of high school!"<br/>
<br/>
"Really?"<br/>
<br/>
She glares sourly at you. "Jesus, it's like you don't even pay attention most of the time."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry! I'm just saying I don't remember seeing them around, with you or anyone else."<br/>
<br/>
"Like I said, it's like you don't even pay attention."<br/>
<br/>
You grumble in the back of your throat. Whatever Keith says, you're <i>sure</i> that you'd have noticed him hanging out with Fairfax and those guys, same you notice when you and your friends hang out with Carson Ioeger and James Lamont and that gang. You can't help wondering if Keith isn't too ... embarrassed ... to mix his two sets of friends together.<br/>
<br/>
But Keith is still talking: "—so I guess I just kind of held it against you. But when we got the idea to, you know, help you out with your popularity—"<br/>
<br/>
"Was this before or after you turned yourself into Cindy?"<br/>
<br/>
"About the same time? It was Philip's idea. He thought that if we were going to do something like that, then it should have some kind of purpose. You know, other than, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"Other than so you could fondle your breasts and finger your own pussy?" <br/>
<br/>
"Oh, God," Keith moans, and his eyes roll up in Cindy Vredenburg's sockets. "You have <i>no idea</i> how hot that is."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Squick,</i> you think. Then, as you eye him sidelong, you think, <i>Erm. Hmm. Hmmmmmm.</i><br/>
<br/>
But he's still talking: "—run some sociology experiments. So I mentioned what you'd said about being popular, and Philip thought it'd be a great idea to see how far and fast we could actually make someone popular. So, I thought that was like a good turn to do for you?" A little bit of Cindy's breathlessness creeps into his voice. "And it seemed like it was working?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, seems like it," you agree. You also look around, and notice that while you weren't looking you and Keith exited the building and are now outside. It has stopped raining, but low clouds are hurrying overhead, and there's a sharp breeze. Keith, in Cindy's short skirt and hose, shifts from foot to foot as though chilly. You're tempted to put your arm around her waist and pull her close, but resist. " I still don't get what you did with the real girls," you say. "Are they really okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Totally," he says, and he sounds exactly like Cindy when he says it. "You don't have to worry about them. See, there's this stuff you can make, and if you put it inside a mask, well—" He hesitates. "Well, I'm not sure how it works. Philip's in charge of understanding it all. But say we make a mask of Seth. Which, um—" He glances back at the storage unit. "I guess is what we're going to do? Then if you put this stuff inside that mask, and we put it on him, then he turns into a thing like a robot. I mean, it looks and acts just like him. But he has to do what you say."<br/>
<br/>
"Like who says?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like whosever hair gets used. Yeah, you have to use hair in the spell—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Spell.</i> You haven't asked how they learned to make these masks and do this stuff, but you're starting to get an inkling. But you say nothing.<br/>
<br/>
"—and whoever's hair gets used, they are, like, the master of the thing. It has to do what you say."<br/>
<br/>
"It? It's an 'it'? It's not the person?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. It's a copy of the person. If you put this stuff in Seth's mask, and if you put it on Seth, then it's not Seth anymore. It's a copy of Seth. Same as I'm a copy of Cindy." He twirls about so that his skirt flies out.<br/>
<br/>
"But what does this have to do with the real Cindy? Where is she?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm coming to that. If you make a mask of me, and you put that stuff, with my hair, into that mask of me, and you put it on someone, then it turns them into a duplicate of me. But it's just another 'it', and I'm in charge of it. So it has to do what I say. So that's what we did with Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait," you say. "You mean that you're wearing a mask of Cindy, and she's wearing a mask of ... you?" Keith nods. "Oh, Jesus. Is that how come the guy at the donut shop has been calling you all a bunch of cunts, and telling me not hang out with you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, what?" Keith exclaims. "What are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
So you tell him what "Keith Tilley" has been saying to you. "So that's not you? It's Cindy?"<br/>
<br/>
Keith looks doubtful a moment, then shakes his head. "No," he says. "That's not <i>Cindy.</i> She's— Well, she's under that mask, but she's asleep. We tested it all out. The person gets knocked out, so they don't know what's going on, and when you take the mask off them, they don't remember being inside it."<br/>
<br/>
"Then why is that Keith-bot at the donut shop telling me to stay away from you guys?"<br/>
<br/>
"Probably because he's jealous," Keith says. "I'd be. Yeah, the things act just like we would. That's what you want, right? Your replacement to act just like you? Except we can keep them in line. I mean, you couldn't tell that wasn't Mike back there, right?"<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head, then jump. "Wait, that wasn't Mike in there?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. That's Eva in a Mike mask. That's not the real Josiah either. It's Chelsea. Cool, right? But they act just like the real guys, and don't even know who they really are 'cos like I said, they're asleep. And the only real people back in there are Philip and Carlos. <br/>
<br/>
"At least," he says after a thoughtful pause "I assume that's the real Fairfax. He's acting like the real Fairfax would. But, you know—" He shrugs. "He would even if he's the fake."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Keith goes over things a few more times, just so you're sure that you've got it, then takes you back inside. Philip, who has been texting on his phone, is waiting for you just inside the door. "All set?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
Keith nods. "But Will wants to know what we're doing with Seth. So do I."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, as Seth is now apprised of the fact that there are imposters about—or, at least, that there are multiple versions of Will around—we are going to have to replace him with a beta." <br/>
<br/>
"That's what we call the fakes," Keith tells you in an aside. "That's too bad. I was having a lot of fun dicking him around."<br/>
<br/>
Philip grimaces. "Yes. But it can't be helped."<br/>
<br/>
That sounds harsh, but Keith had assured you that these impersonations are temporary—probably only until the end of the semester, at most until the end of the school year. <i>Then we all go back to normal, including them. Good thing they'll have amnesia.</i><br/>
<br/>
Fairfax turns to you. "Did Keith fully explain how the masking procedure works? Including control of the beta?" <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. You use someone's hair, and that puts you in charge of the, uh, beta?"<br/>
<br/>
Philip nods. "We'll use yours on Seth. That will give you control of the beta that will be impersonating and replacing him."<br/>
<br/>
"Dude!" Keith punches you in the arm. "You're going to be the boss of Javits!"<br/>
<br/>
"And," Fairfax says, "you will even be able to impersonate him if you want. You will be able to switch between his mask and yourself at will. Uh, no pun intended."<br/>
<br/>
You slide Keith a sidelong look. He draws back. "Don't even think about it, fucker," he says. "Seth and me are totally busted up now. 'Course, you can always use him to get some new taint."<br/>
<br/>
"Are we still doing that other project?" you ask. "The one about making me popular?"<br/>
<br/>
Philip considers, then nods. "It might even be easier now, as we can coordinate directly instead of trying to maneuver you into improving yourself."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Well.<br/>
<br/>
You're going to be popular. And with a mask of Seth Javits, you can moonlight as someone who is already ... well ... feared and respected, if not "popular."<br/>
<br/>
But why not join this conspiracy by taking a different face? Some girl, like the Garners and Cindy,  who can improve your standing? Or a guy? Like that Blake guy at the Warehouse the other night, for instance. He was sort-of helping you out.<br/>
<br/>
Or hell— You could instantly get yourself a girlfriend this way.</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213212
author_id: rugal
title: Feminine Charm
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What if I wanted to be someone else?" you say, interrupting whatever Fairfax was trying to say. Admittedly you were too caught up in your own head to pay much attention to him.<br/>
<br/>
"Someone else?" Phillip blinks. "It doesn't really work that way. You can't be two separate people. It's not as if you're able to perform mitosis after all."<br/>
<br/>
If that's his idea of a joke (does Phillip Fairfax even possess a sense of humor) then it's not a very good one for nobody, including Phillip himself, laughs. "Well, I know <i>that</i>," you reply. "But I mean what if I didn't want to be Seth? You know let, I don't know, someone else have him?"<br/>
<br/>
Phillip can only look at you dumbfounded. "But the rest of us already have betas, Will," he states, "so the only one available for him is you."<br/>
<br/>
The explanation is said in such a way that you can't help but feel as if he's being a bit condescending. It's setting you on edge and making you a little testy. A little more willing to push back. "Am I the only one you?" you say in a bit of a challenging manner. "Why couldn't someone else have him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because the book--"<br/>
<br/>
The book? It must be that one you you had purchased and the one that had been stolen. But Mendoza and his buddies stole it so how did it wind up with these guys? That's a problem for another time however as you don't give Phillip the chance to continue. "Does it say that you can only have one of these... these betas?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, no--"<br/>
<br/>
"So why not let someone else have him then like," you look around until you spot Cindy, "like Keith."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh hell yeah," Cindy says with an absolutely wicked grin. "It's been fun dicking him around already but it'll be even more fun ordering him to, I dunno, kiss my feet."<br/>
<br/>
"We've already settled this," Phillip uncharacteristically (you'd assume anyway) snaps. "Will, everyone here has their own beta. Carlos has Jessica, Mike has Eva, Josiah has Chelsea, I have Maria and you've obviously seen Keith's."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, so if Cindy's a beta then does mean Keith--"<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's definitely me under here," Cindy replies, "as you already know."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know anything!" you exclaim in frustrated confusion. "All I know is that this is totally insane and that I want in. That I want," you look around at all of the assembled people, "that I want a... a beta. A girl, like you all have."<br/>
<br/>
You don't know what kind of response admitting that will bring. You can only take note at the way the rest of them look at one another.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It takes a little more pushing but you think you've finally cracked Fairfax's defenses and if you didn't the threat of Javits coming to and busting out certainly has. He says that they'll need someone to volunteer and Keith, naturally, is only too eager to volunteer. When the mask of Cindy is removed you're given hard, and eye bleach worthy, confirmation that yes it is in fact your friend who's been parading around inside of her mask; inside of <i>her</i>.<br/>
<br/>
It's while all of this is going on that Carlos places a hand on your shoulder and insists that the two of you go for a walk. Without really thinking you follow him and the fake Eva (or is that the real Eva and she's actually in on all of this) out of the studio and out of the climate controlled building entirely until you're outside in the parking lot with all of the outside storage units.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's up?" Carlos finally asks. "I'd have figured Seth would've been a great choice. You know, handsome, athletic, popular..."<br/>
<br/>
"And also sticking his dick inside Cindy which would be great if it <i>was</i> Cindy but knowing," you pause and shudder, "well, I just don't want to think about it."<br/>
<br/>
"They're broken up, at least I think they are now," Carlos replies. "Besides, as someone like him you wouldn't be hard pressed for a girl."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not hard pressed for girls <i>now</i> thanks to you guys," you state.<br/>
<br/>
"Go us," Eva chimes in with mock enthusiasm.<br/>
<br/>
"There were just... so many," you say. "Girls I didn't even know but who knew me. Girls who I wanted to know but who didn't get back to me. Girls I couldn't even fit into my schedule. I even had a few who were wanting to meet with me!"<br/>
<br/>
"It sounds like a good problem to have," Mike says with a chuckle.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, sounds like! But I'm not used to this, man! I want <i>a</i> girl, one! Not one hundred!" You sigh in exhaustion, "I mean the playboy life... I kind of dreamed of it but maybe it's not for me."<br/>
<br/>
"And so you can't be Seth because of that?" asks Carlos. "Or another guy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well first, being a girl is awesome!" Eva exclaims with uncharacteristic excitement. "Second, maybe he just thinks it'll be easier as a girl? Or wants to see how the other half lives?"<br/>
<br/>
"Something like that," you admit. "Because if I'm going to have a beta I'm not going to want someone worse off than me which means I'm getting into the territory of guys who pull in girls a lot easier which is just overwhelming."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're looking to give up on the whole Prescott Pygmalion thing?" asks Carlos.<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head however. "I'm not giving up really. I'm just... taking a break," you answer him. "But I'd want a girl who could still help me out. Make me look, you know, popular. I just want a break from my role as the guinea pig."<br/>
<br/>
"Fair enough," Carlos replies, "so who'd you have in mind?"<br/>
<br/>
But all you can do is shrug. "I kind of just decided. I haven't had the time to really think," you state.<br/>
<br/>
"I'd say a cheerleader would be good then but we kind of have that group covered," Eva states. "Phillip would probably like information from other groups though."<br/>
<br/>
"Like who?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyone and everyone," Eva states plainly. "Maybe you should think about where you'd want to go, who you'd want to be that's not a cheerleader."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's not too long afterwards that Cindy, Seth in tow, comes walking out. She's completely ecstatic and more than proud to show off her "new pet", even giddily adding that he "does tricks" as she orders him around, quite literally, like a dog. While you can understand Keith's relishing in having his tormentor at his mercy like this (and you'd probably do the same if it was someone like Kirkham) you can't help but find it a bit unsettling and creepy all the same.<br/>
<br/>
Phillip, flabbergasted that Keith having another beta seems to have gone off without a hitch, asks if you've decided on who you want but you can only give a negative response with much the same reason you gave to Carlos and the maybe-fake-maybe-real Eva. That this is all a massive shock and you've only just come to the decision to even join or even that you wanted a girl as a beta. He seems to understand and his mood, though still cautious and reserves, is much improved from earlier.<br/>
<br/>
Still he'd like a switch made as soon as possible and says that he'd like a name before the end of the school day tomorrow so that the group, whoever would be able to get her, could work on bringing her out to the studio so the procedure can be performed. In fact he says to everyone that getting in a group text would likely make coordinating anything in the future much easier and it'll mean everyone can stay abreast of what everyone else is doing.<br/>
<br/>
At home you endure the chiding you receive from your parents (and the taunting of your brother) for missing dinner, offering apologies and promising to get started right away on your homework. Which you do... for approximately ten minutes. But the lure of having a girl for a beta, of the girls in general, is too strong. Stronger still is your need to now check social media to scour for potential identities.<br/>
<br/>
Often, then, are you pulled away from your homework to check Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, x2z and anything else you can think of to get an idea on the girls in your school... and even a few from outside of it. That proves unwieldy and much as you might like seeing the various pictures of, say, Kristy Suffolk that pop up (including a few of her in a swimsuit at what looks to be a friend's pool) you realize that to get any work down, homework or otherwise, you'll have to organize it a little better.<br/>
<br/>
So you think more in terms of the various cliques and groups that populate the schools. But there's so many groups -- from the band nerds to the bohemians and on and on -- that even that proves less fruitful than you'd have hoped. So you narrow it down to just girls in your classes and quickly discarding a lot of them for one reason or another you work your way down to a reasonable number. From there the process becomes much easier.<br/>
<br/>
You realize that one of the AP girls from Walberg's class would be your best option and when it comes to that group there's really only one you have in mind. But a text out of the blue from a girl you talked to earlier today, an athlete, sends your mind racing to that group. You hop back onto social media and after some more investigating a couple of others stand out to you. Of course you think of Stephanie as well but, in her own bossy sort of way, she's already been helping so would you really need to make her a beta?<br/>
<br/>
You're satisified with who you have in mind yet even still, there's doubt lurking in the back of your mind. You wonder if maybe you should ask the others for their own opinions before making any decision. After all, they're your partners now.</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132121
author_id: rugal
title: Brains and Brawn
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You decide to spend the day going over the girls you've narrowed things down to, hoping you're able to catch sight of them to give you a little bit of a clearer picture about just who they are. After all, social media can only tell you so much.<br/>
<br/>
The first person name you're able to come across is actually the easiest. You'd met with Reagan Hackett and Kayla Shea before first period even started yesterday and though you'd certainly liked both on a physical level, it was Reagan that came to dominate most of the time you'd spent with them. She was more outgoing, more personable and far, far more flirty. More than you'd care to admit she seemed to know what buttons to push to make you want to feel like you were the only person she'd give this sort of attention to.<br/>
<br/>
So you'd made sure to send her a text practically the second you'd arrived at school asking her what was up. Was it rude to text someone this early in the morning? Well you'd hope not, especially as she'd sent you her own text late last night. A simple "hope to see you tomorrow" with assorted appropriate emojis and emoticons but it was enough to shoot her high up on your list. And if it's rude her response doesn't indicate as such.<br/>
<br/>
<i>just about to leave. u?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>just got to school. hoping we can hang out like yesterday,</i> you reply back. Quickly you add something to make it, you hope, more enticing. <i>just us,</i> is all you say.<br/>
<br/>
<i>oh! kay,</i> she replies. <i>i'll meet u by the baseball field.</i><br/>
<br/>
That's the end of the text conversation but you don't head over to the diamond immediately. Instead you loiter around a bit, giving yourself around fifteen or twenty minutes thinking that'll be plenty of time. After all, you worry that if you're standing around there when she arrives it'll make you look desperate and if you've picked up on anything from this entire experiment so far it's that you don't want to come off as desperate.<br/>
<br/>
Though why should you care if you do come off like that? Probably because it might ruin the image the others have helped cultivate for you and you'd hate to shit all over their work like that.<br/>
<br/>
"Well hey there!" Reagan greets you enthusiastically as you approach her near the bleachers. "Glad to see I left an impression on you."<br/>
<br/>
"As much of one as I left on you," you reply trying to sound confident. Is that good flirting? You don't know but Reagan smiles and laughs a little in response.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, can you follow me?" she asks as she walks past you and towards the direction of the agricultural annex, naturally you oblige.<br/>
<br/>
"Baseball your thing?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Not particularly," she replies, "but Kerri's boyfriend is on the team and the two of them are just... you know."<br/>
<br/>
You actually don't know but you laugh anyway as you feel that's the response she's expecting. "I don't really know as much about the volleyball team as I should," you state but continue trying to play it smooth, "but I'd definitely like to."<br/>
<br/>
As you're by the annex, relatively quiet this early in the morning, Reagan stops and turns back to you with a sly smile on her face, "Not a lot of people do but they're learning I hope," she says. "Kind of like you. I know you, for sure."<br/>
<br/>
"Do you?" you ask. "We only just met."<br/>
<br/>
"You're transparent Will," she states. "It's obvious, to me anyway, that this kind of thing is new to you right? Nobody's ever heard of you and overnight you're this big shot hanging around with the Garners and partying at the Warehouse."<br/>
<br/>
"What can I say? I decided it was time to break out." Though your words sound confident, you're nerves are betraying you. What is she getting at?<br/>
<br/>
She laughs a bit at that but it doesn't sound mean spirited. "You're definitely a geek, Will. A geek trying hard to look and act cooler than you are." She inches forward, that same sly smile turned right at you. "But I like it. You're not all that great at it yet but you're trying. It's cute and it reminds me of us, the volleyball team." She inches forward some more and brushes your chest. "I'd be happy to help you Will, in any way I can."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" is all you can say, your heart racing.<br/>
<br/>
"Definitely," she says with a wink. Then to your shock she leans in and gives you a quick peck on the cheek. "Get in touch after school," she says as she walks by. "I'd love to get to know you."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Well instantly Reagan's shot to the top of your list... or has she plummeted to the bottom? You don't mean that negatively either. Your mind is racing the rest of the day from that brief encounter before first period. She saw right through you but she's still interested anyway? You start to wonder, what could someone like her do with the masks? If she <i>really</i> wanted to help you? More importantly than that though... does this mean you'd have a chance with her?<br/>
<br/>
You'd certainly like that. Reagan is certainly a good looking girl after all, full-figured but in the kind of pleasant way that reminds you of Victoria Rodriguez. Someone who looks nice and soft who you'd love to grab and hold.<br/>
<br/>
You try to put her out of your mind though for first period as you see another name that you put onto your list. One that you felt almost obligated to put as soon as you entertained the possibility of an AP girl: Lisa. Her motives are still a mystery to you and in a way she's been the fuel for everything, or maybe her actions are what gave you the push to set in motion this entire daft series of events that's led you to where you are now.<br/>
<br/>
Where you are now being contemplating turning her into a beta using magic masks from a magic book. You'd love to know what she thinks, what she thought. More importantly you'd love to steal her away from that smug asshole boyfriend of her's. With her as your beta what could he actually do? You could not only end their relationship but have it go up in flames spectacularly leaving nothing but a smoldering, ruined husk in its place. Besides, if you managed to "win back" Lisa from Mansfield that would undoubtedly be a boon to your popularity.<br/>
<br/>
Fourth period brings another name from your list. She's one you hadn't really known but browsing her social media allowed her to stand out. Mandy Tiller's a softball player who's part of the crowd of athletically inclined girls that surrounds the magnetic Catherine Muskov both in your English class and in general. Of the others, Meghan Velasquez isn't quite to your tastes and while Samantha Carpenter is pretty, her social media presence is surprisingly small and what's there isn't terribly interesting.<br/>
<br/>
But Mandy seems to not only be a regular at Catherine's parties, there are also lots and lots of pictures of them together suggesting a tightness between them. You find the idea of having Catherine as a beta, or of being Catherine, intimidating but someone who could influence her into helping you sounds much more reasonable. Somewhat helping her is that your other choice from this class, her friend Kelly Rinaldi, is absent today.<br/>
<br/>
Of the last name you'd had on your list you're only able to catch glimpses of her during lunch but you don't need careful observation to know that Sophia Van den Berg is practically a no-brainer. She's on the tennis team which is largely the dumping ground for the rich AP snobs. And Sophia is certainly not lacking in the wealth department. Her family, in fact, is very old money and -- as the story goes -- have been involved heavily in Saratoga Falls since the town's earliest days. Their mansion, old and gothic and imposing, sits right outside of the university.<br/>
<br/>
The advantages offered by someone like her are immeasurable.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You allow yourelf to think about this when a text comes in from, to your surprise, Reagan after sixth. This time it's not much of a suggestion like it was this morning. She's outright telling you that she wants to get together after school. Where, though? Well she says that as the guy she'll leave that up to you. Your heart is certainly beating now because it's starting to seem like she is definitely interested in you and that you might have a chance with her.<br/>
<br/>
That would mean that you wouldn't even need the help of the others to get her out to the studio for all of the others' magic whatsits to do their thing. But if you have a chance with her then you can't help but think that you'd want <i>her</i> and not some weird magical slave robot thing that'd have to follow your every order. Would that really be a girlfriend at that point?<br/>
<br/>
Besides it's not as if any of the others on your list are awful choices. So you make a decision, first sending a reply back to Reagan but following it up with a text to the rest of the group with the name of the person that you want as your bet.</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321212
author_id: rugal
title: Catching the One That Got Away
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>r u serious?!?!?!</i> comes a text from Cindy.<br/>
<br/>
<i>yeah,</i> you text back, <i>i want lisa for my beta.</i><br/>
<br/>
You don't hear any kind of positive or negative confirmation back but instead get a text from Jessica asking you to meet at the studio right away. You tell her that you have something planned with Reagan Hackett but she's insistent, texting you back that this is more important. So reluctantly you text Reagan to tell her that something came up and that you're not going to be able to meet with her. She seems disappointed so you mollify her by promising to meet with her after school tomorrow and it does seem to work, thankfully.<br/>
<br/>
You drive out to the storage facility where Jessica seems to have made it just before you. Once you're parked she's quick to hustle you side the building and into not the studio you've seen but a unit right next to it, largely bare minus a box, a mirror, some weightlifting equipment and a few other small things. She practically forces you to sit on the bench.<br/>
<br/>
"What the hell are you doing?" she asks and though her voice isn't raised her tone is harsh.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I mean," she says while pacing, "are you really going to be doing this? Like you're going to get revenge on your ex or something? Force her to be your girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"Am I going to..." You trail off. Well, it wouldn't be a lie to say you had thought of the latter so in this case you do lie. "Why do you think I want to get revenge on her? Or force her to... no," you protest. "But I want to get back at her dickhead boyfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're going to make her a beta, use her as, I dunno, a pawn to do it?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Well sure," you say and quickly counter, "but how's that any different than what Keith's doing with Cindy and Seth? And even just you guys sticking these girls under those beta masks forcing them to be you so <i>you</i> can be <i>them</i>?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're not the ones using this stuff on ex-girlfriends, Prescott," she chastises. "Look," she sighs, "we wanted to help you as a social experiment or whatever. We still want to help you out as well, otherwise we wouldn't have let you in."<br/>
<br/>
"But?"<br/>
<br/>
"But I'm worried that this could be crossing a line." Jessica shifts nervously as she says it. "To tell you the truth I'm a bit put off by Keith having Javits under his control like that. Using Cindy to fuck with him is one thing but doing it directly... I don't know."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
But Jessica just shakes her head. "I can't really think of the right way to put it. I guess that with these betas having to listen to you could order them to do... things, you know?" she says. "Unsavory things, <i>dangerous</i> things. Keith could tell Javits to just go into the Wilderness and never come back. You could tell Lisa to..."<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't thinking of doing anything like that!" you protest. "And I don't think Keith would do anything like that with Javits either."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do you want me to do?" You're struck by the testiness of your response and Jessica must be as well because her own is firm.<br/>
<br/>
"I'd say choose someone else," she states, "and if Phillip has a problem with it then--" But she's cut off by her phone going off, a text you guess because she pulls it out, looks at it for a moment, grumbles, then starts typing. A few more dings and rounds of typing and, frustrated, she puts her phone down. "That was Eva," she says and defeat is evident in her voice. "She's bringing Lisa out here."<br/>
<br/>
"Well that's good right?" you ask. "When are they going to be out here?"<br/>
<br/>
"About half an hour," she answers as she stands up. Jessica walks over to the chest and opens it, she digs around and pulls out something. It's a mask. "Here," she says as she hands it to you. "You're going to need to put it on, load it with up to date memories I guess."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" you ask in confusion as you take it from her. "We're just doing that whatever to her mask right? Making her a beta?"<br/>
<br/>
"If it were up to me we wouldn't be using her at all," she mutters. "But since we're stuck with it... well, we've gotten into the masks right away. I figure you'd want to do the same."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, you mean <i>I'd</i> be Lisa?!" you ask in shock.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah" she nods. "That and... well, how well do you know her? You dated her for a while but how well do you actually know Lisa?"<br/>
<br/>
"How well...?" You give it some thought. "Probably not as well as I'd like to think I guess."<br/>
<br/>
"Mhm," she replies, "so before you order her around as a beta maybe you'd better learn about her. Really get to know her. This is really personal for you, Will. I don't want to see you letting your emotions get the better of you and you ruin things for her as well as doing... whatever."<br/>
<br/>
You're surprised. You don't want to say Mike Hollister's a scumbag or anything because hell, you barely knew him before the last few days. But when you'd see him in class or around school he always seemed a little more carefree so you weren't aware that he had this side -- more cautious, more moral -- to him.<br/>
<br/>
"You want me to be Lisa..." you say as you examine the mask. It's a strange concept but you can't deny it's an enticing one and not just for her body. Getting inside her head like Jessica suggested, learning what she really thought of you and your relationship, learning about her... She's still kind of a mystery to you. "So I just put this on my face?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"You'll want to sit down or something too," she states, "because you're going to be knocked out and you don't want to get yourself hurt."<br/>
<br/>
Nodding you take a seat and look at the mask once more. Then taking a deep breath you press it to your face.<br/>
<br/>
The world goes dark.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You wake up for a second time in as many minutes... or is it the first time? Everything went black, you were out, and then what? You woke up and Eva was there, Maria was as well. So were you, dressed in nothing but your birthday suit. An odd scene where you ordered yourself into a corner. Where you were told that it will take a while for the memories to come and so Maria suggested the two of you hang out once you were in the mask because with her would the safest bet; no chance of you getting dragged into anything.<br/>
<br/>
A scene where the Garners argued that everything was perfectly fine. That Eva and Jessica, as friends of Lisa, would be natural for Lisa to hang out with compared to Maria who she doesn't really know.<br/>
<br/>
But that's not right. Because you remember Eva telling you about this video project she was involved in and asking if you'd be interested in being in it. She'd seemed pretty positive about it and as for you? It seems like something dumb but if it's got any level of popularity then maybe it'd be good for your to do something for it. Because one thing might become a regular thing and if you were a regular in a locally popular video series or it managed to blow up...<br/>
<br/>
So you'd gone out to this storage facility with Eva because that's where she said it was, basically a storage unit converted into a studio. But the unit she showed you looked like no studio. It was fairly bare outside of a few things here and there and... was that Will? You could feel your heart beat. What you'd shared with him over the summer... you'd thought it might have been something. The kind of thing you were looking for but it didn't really turn out that way did it?<br/>
<br/>
But whose fault is that? You'd said it was his fault, that he was too childish and it was like you weren't really dating. But was that it at all? Because it was a few weeks before school when Geoff had really started to talk to you and the things he said, the things he did for you... you get giddy thinking about it. This was something closer to what you were looking for so it'd only make sense. What you had with Will was no actual relationship. It was just... a thing. Affectionately platonic is what you'd call it.<br/>
<br/>
But was it really? <i>He</i> sure seemed to think it was serious and he's seemed despondent since you told him you were never really dating. But you had no more time to contemplate and sift through the thoughts that raced through your head the instant you saw him because it wasn't long before something was pushed onto your face and you blacked out.<br/>
<br/>
You gasp and look down at yourself. You're greeted with smooth, white skin and large breasts that you want to grab and hold and caress. Dark hair falls into your field of vision. You can hardly believe it. You're actually Lisa. Every inch of her body is now every inch of <i>your</i> body. And her mind... that flash you'd gotten when you'd woken up, the confusion and dual sets of memories of the last half hour or so.<br/>
<br/>
You can't fault Maria for her caution and thinking logically it's certainly the most sound thing to do. Because it might be Maria Vasquez in appearance but it's still Phillip Fairfax in reality and the calm stability someone like that provides can help you ease into your new situation as you acquire Lisa's memories. Neither are the Garners -- Carlos and Mike -- wrong though. Being a little looser, having a little more fun and all in the safety of friends who you can screw up in front of as you adjust.<br/>
<br/>
But do you need to? Because those memories were so clear and so vivid. You're her in body so maybe you're already her in mind too? Because when you think <i>I am Lisa Roxanne Yarborough,</i> something about it just feels natural.</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213212122
author_id: rugal
title: An Influential Mind
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Lisa Roxanne Yarborough.<br/>
<br/>
It's a name that echoes itself in your head as everything serves to make you very aware that, for now, this is who you are. The clothes laying in a pile not far from you certainly belong to a girl named Lisa. The soft underwear you slip on is not something Will Prescott would ever wear nor is the bra that you spend too long fumbling with before something clicks and you're finally able to get it on properly. The jeans that tightly hug soft thighs, the blouse cut low enough to expose plenty of cleavage, the fashionable ankle boots and soft green coat... all of it belongs to Lisa Yarborough so if you're wearing them then you must be Lisa, right?<br/>
<br/>
And while flashes of her life are constantly floating in and out, threatening to overwhelm, you feel like you even if just barely. You'd like to keep that distinction, the one that exists separating Will Prescott from Lisa Yarborough, in place so the idea of immediately going out somewhere as her is out of the question as is going home.<br/>
<br/>
Home...<br/>
<br/>
You feel a twinge in the back of your head and in your chest. No, you most certainly do <i>not</i> want to go home yet. So you make a decision on just how to spend your time for the next little while and before exiting head over to that mirror to give yourself a once over.<br/>
<br/>
Ostensibly you want to make sure everything's in place, reaffirm what you look like and make sure nothing's missing. But you can't stop yourself from reacting in shock when you get over to that mirror and see yourself, nor can you get yourself to move. It's enough to make you question who you are for just a moment because the face you see is Lisa's face... <i>your</i> face. When you move your face, Lisa moves her's. When you move an arm, so too does Lisa.<br/>
<br/>
<i>You're freaking out, girl! Of course you're seeing yourself because it's you! You're Lisa Roxxane Yarborough, you're yourself. You're not... Will Prescott?</i><br/>
<br/>
That sobers you up and allows you to stop Lisa's mind from overwhelming your own. Thrown into a situation like this, having another's mind that you have to try and tame as it jostles for position inside your own head... it's tough! That reinforces your belief that you'll be spending your time right. You fight the temptation to do anything more to yourself and head out of the unit and into the adjoining one that houses the studio.<br/>
<br/>
Inside you see yourself -- Will Prescott -- dressed in all of your... finest. Jeez, you really do come off as immature viewing yourself from the outside. But it still activates a hundred different thoughts and emotions that you absolutely do not want to try and sort through right now so you're very stern when you speak to him.<br/>
<br/>
"Go home."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" he asks, obviously confused.<br/>
<br/>
"Get out of here, go home or do... something. Something normal for you," you tell him. "And tomorrow, don't seek me out please. Actually, when you leave here text Reagan and see if she's free, tell her things changed rapidly. If not, try and set something up for tomorrow with her."<br/>
<br/>
"Jeez, you want me to rub your feet while you're at it?" he grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"Just go!" you exclaim gesturing towards the door and, still grumbling, he makes his exit.<br/>
<br/>
"Right to the point," Eva laughs. Jessica, staying quiet, hangs back. "So you ready to hang out <i>Lisa</i>?" she asks putting special emphasis on your assumed name.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," you reply, "just not with you. But I'll talk to you guys tomorrow, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"While I can't say I'm overly enthusiastic about your choice I can say that I'm at least glad you're now taking things slowly."<br/>
<br/>
Having headed to the Crystal Cave, as it'll be less packed than some of the other coffee shops and thus lessen the chance of having to pull off an impersonation, you slowly sip your latte before responding. "I'm just not sure of my ability to pull of an impersonation right off the bat," you admit, "and I figured I was better easing into it with you than the others."<br/>
<br/>
"Understandable, it takes a while for the memories to come in after all."<br/>
<br/>
That causes you a bit of small shock. "What do you mean?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"It usually takes some hours before you get everything," she explains, "often an entire night's sleep."<br/>
<br/>
"That's weird because it felt like I had it all," you state.<br/>
<br/>
Maria nods. "Yes, well, some times you might get a flash here or there but--"<br/>
<br/>
"But that's not what I mean," you cut her off. "I mean I had it all. Like I was confused about just who I was when I woke up and I had to fight for a bit to make sure I was still me. It doesn't feel as bad but for a little bit at first, I felt like I was in danger of losing myself to Lisa completely."<br/>
<br/>
Maria's eyes widen for a second before narrowing. She focuses on you, seemingly analyzing you, before her expression softens and she grabs her own drink. "That's very interesting," she says before taking a sip.<br/>
<br/>
"Was it like that for all of you?" you ask. "Having to wait to get everything?"<br/>
<br/>
"As far as I'm aware," she answers.<br/>
<br/>
"So I'm, what, special or something?" you respond in surprise. "I mean if I have it all already..."<br/>
<br/>
She titters a bit but shakes her head. "I don't think that makes you special, that seems kind of absurd," she states. "More likely, it might not be the same for everyone and some people might get hit with everything at once. Maybe your relationship with Lisa and having her on your mind affected it as well. But are you able to separate everything? Recall anything specific?"<br/>
<br/>
You're not even sure how you'd do that or what, specifically, you'd be looking for. "I mean I have a few basics like, uh, her address but it's still kind of jumbled," you admit.<br/>
<br/>
"Mhm," she nods, "so you'll still need time to get used to it, same as the rest of us even if the circumstances are a little bit different. You're definitely not ready to impersonate her around her friends or family."<br/>
<br/>
Something about that causes another twinge deep in your subconscious and you're not sure why. Maybe you're just impressed by how sound of an explanation that is. "It must be frustrating for you," you say without really thinking, "you know being an airhead like that." You notice Maria's look and yelp in shock. "No no! I mean, um, <i>you're</i> not an airhead of course but Maria is, uh, you know..." You sigh in frustration. "I don't really know <i>what</i> I mean. It just slipped out."<br/>
<br/>
"I understand what you mean and it's not as bad as you'd think," she replies. "Maria's a... unique individual to be sure. But I like the uniqueness. I'm enjoying myself."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I mean with looks like that who wouldn't enjoy it?" you ask rhetorically. "But even still, you're a smart guy so I can't imagine how tough it has to be pretending you're <i>not</i> the smartest person in any room."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that what you think?" asks Maria with an almost playful smirk that takes you by surprise. "I told you, far less frustrating than you'd think."<br/>
<br/>
It's not frustrating being perceived by everyone around you as a ditz? As flighty and unreliable and even empty-headed even if you are plenty intelligent? You're having a hard time believing it... maybe because you don't <i>want</i> to believe it. You're not sure why but seeing Fairfax's contentment with his situation isn't sitting right with you. If you're being honest it's actually beginning to frustrate you a little bit. How could someone like him, how could anyone, be content with something like that?<br/>
<br/>
So you try to continue the discussion of the masks, of what you'll be doing and other subjects (Maria brings up something about getting "another beta") but you've long stopped paying attention as those thoughts continued to set root inside your head so you eventually thank her for all of her help and what she's done for you but that you really need to get going. You ask if you'll see her in school tomorrow and she tells you that you share sixth.<br/>
<br/>
You can't help but mutter that you knew that before gathering your stuff and leaving.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Home.<br/>
<br/>
Lisa Yarborough's home.<br/>
<br/>
When you were with her over the summer you never actually went over. Well, you came over to pick her up once or twice but you never really went inside or hung out. That was at Lisa's insistence and jokingly you'd wonder if it was because she found you embarrassing but she'd insisted that wasn't it at all. She just didn't like spending time at home because there was always stuff to do away from it that she didn't want to miss out on.<br/>
<br/>
But you have a weird feeling deep in the pit of your gut that you can't shake as you pull into the driveway. Excitement maybe? Lisa's house looks fairly normal, a little nicer than your own maybe but nothing weird or off-putting about it, at least visually. Because it hits you that feeling isn't one of excitement. No, it's one of dread and unease.<br/>
<br/>
You can feel that Lisa wasn't lying when she said she didn't like spending time at home. But though you're having a hard time placing the specifics, you can tell that she wasn't being entirely truthful with her reasoning. Something about that word, "home", does not inspire positive feelings in you.</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132121221
author_id: rugal
title: Chilly Receptions
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I'm home!" you exclaim as you shut the front door behind you. Immediately you realize that was an incredibly pointless gesture on your part though. You're used to having to do it with your own mother after all because even though you're a senior she still likes to know you made it back safe, even if it's more out of ritual necessity at this point than practical necessity. But that's your mother. Lisa's, on the other hand...<br/>
<br/>
You suddenly have a much clearer picture of her and who she is. Not just Lisa's mother but Lisa herself. Like stepping through that door and into Lisa's home was more than a simple physical act. It was like opening the door to Lisa's mind allowing you to step into a room where everything about her is right there, easily accessible and waiting to be picked out and used. You can be Lisa, of that you're now more confident than you had been back at the Crystal Cave. But confidence means nothing, you need proof.<br/>
<br/>
You can smell food of some sort, did Lisa's mother cook? You're disabused of that notion as soon as you follow the smell to the kitchen where a pizza, still warm but having cooled off quite a bit, sits. Of course she didn't cook; she hasn't in quite a long time. Work keeps her too busy to worry about cooking she always says. No, it's Lisa that cooks and then only for herself and while it might be a tad arrogant Lisa thinks of herself as a pretty decent cook. Though maybe it's because she's the only one judging her cooking.<br/>
<br/>
She can remember clearly the last time she tried to cook for the family, back early in the summer. It was a recipe she saw and that looked really good. She put a lot of effort into that dish and in the end only her father ate it and his response? The most unenthusiastic "it's fine" ever muttered by another human being. Her mother was out late doing work with a client -- a frequent occurrence for a highly in demand photographer -- so if she had any of it after getting home then Lisa wasn't aware of it. Since then she's never brought up the subject of cooking to her parents.<br/>
<br/>
And lost in thought, it's the grumbling of your stomach that rouses you back to reality and in the direction of the pizza. So you grab a slice, put it on a plate and head off in the direction of her room. Along the way you, as you're passing by a room with a half open door a man -- older, paunchier, wearing glasses and with a receding hairline -- walks out of that room. You have to quickly halt yourself to stop from running into him. Though you wouldn't know it were you looking at him as yourself, as Lisa you know that this is her father.<br/>
<br/>
"You're home late," he says in a manner that could charitably be described as distracted disinterest. Like it's something he has to say more out of courtesy than anything else.<br/>
<br/>
"Not any later than usual," you reply. "Is mom here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Haven't seen her," he mutters as he shuffles past you, "she's probably doing something for a client."<br/>
<br/>
You do nothing but stare at him as he walks off in the direction of the kitchen before shaking your head. Lisa's father is a smart guy doing engineering work both for the city and on his own. But he's always been a fairly distant father... not much different from her mother.<br/>
<br/>
In Lisa's room you throw yourself onto her bed. Nothing about this is exceptional, you realize. Well for you it is but not for her. Your father can be gruff and taciturn but you don't doubt that he loves you and you can remember countless times throughout your life he's been there to offer help or advice. That's to say nothing of your mother who's always been very generous with her attention and affection. Some times you'd feel like she was smothering you but she's always been there all the same.<br/>
<br/>
But Lisa's parents...<br/>
<br/>
It's not that she doesn't think that they don't love her but they're almost the total opposite of your parents, too absorbed in their own worlds. Lisa's been part of the chorus for years and she can count on one hand the number of performances they've been to... and that stopped once she was able to drive herself to and from events. Her academic accomplishments are never praised and in fact her parents never ask much about how or what she's doing in school.<br/>
<br/>
In fact they don't ask about much at all. They never knew about Will Prescott, they only barely know about Geoff Mansfield for example.<br/>
<br/>
Out of instinct, Lisa's instinct more than your own, you sit back at the head of the bed and hug yourself. You shiver with excitement as you do because it's something you yourself never really got to do when you were with Lisa. Sure you'd hugged her and such but never anything like the grabbing and caressing of her body you begin doing.<br/>
<br/>
It's a wonderful body too, soft and sensitive as you run fingers over exceptionally smooth skin. The clothes you'd not long ago put on are removed with only a minimum of care. Lisa's body, your body, is laid bare and you can't help but delight as you gently rub and lift and pinch voluptuous breasts and massage a wonderfully sized and round ass.<br/>
<br/>
Laying back on the bed you run your hands over thighs that are a little larger but soft and squishable. They work themselves up until you've reached the vulva. It's a shock when you do but you've worked yourself up so much that you don't want to stop. Lisa wants comfort, she <i>needs</i> comfort and you want to make her feel good. So you sink just a bit and allow her to guide you with all of the experience she's acquired.<br/>
<br/>
You're pleasuring Lisa in a way that you could've only fantasized about while also making yourself feel wonderful in a way you've done countless times. In this way you work until, as you approach climax, the distinction between Will Prescott and Lisa Yarborough ceases to exist for the briefest of moments.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
By the time you've woken up in the morning -- although really long before than -- any lingering doubts about your ability to play Lisa have left. Grasping at her mind, sinking yourself down into her personality, feels like second nature and you spend the early morning time the way she would as you shower, make a light breakfast, pick out an outfit and even apply a bit of makeup. All of it feels natural. Once you're ready you head outside and run into Susie Maitland, one of Lisa's neighbors and a popular Eastman student, and exchange some casual chit-chat about respective boyfriends.<br/>
<br/>
Susie's a nice, charming girl and Lisa's always wanted to spend some more time with her but talking with her lately can be an exercise in frustration. Susie's always gushing about her basketball player boyfriend and the two, from these brief conversations, seem to have a healthy relationship. But Lisa and Mansfield? Well, the fact you can feel Lisa's own envy towards Susie says it all really.<br/>
<br/>
But though, underneath the surface, the honeymoon period might be over (at least for Lisa), on the surface they're still very much a thing so much as you wish you could you can't just go and torch the relationship on day one. You still need to largely maintain the illusion. But you can certain get things started down the right path.<br/>
<br/>
"This isn't like you," Mansfield protests as you stand with him out by his car in the school's parking lot, you turned around and him behind you with his arms clasped around your waist. "You're usually so eager to..."<br/>
<br/>
You jump just a tiny bit as you can feel his lips press against your neck and though Will would want to slug him, Lisa's not the violent type. But you can find a nice middle ground so you stiffen. "No, Geoff. Not now," you say sternly before wriggling free of his grasp.<br/>
<br/>
"I seriously don't know what's up with you this morning. You on your--"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't finish that sentence," you interrupt while reaching forward to pinch his lips shut. You hold it like that for a few seconds before releasing your grip. "I'm kind of ticked with you right now. Do you know why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Can't think of anything I did," he shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
"That's the problem, Geoff. You didn't do anything," you chastise him. "I told you what Eva invited me out to and you didn't say anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I figured you weren't going to want to be interrupted from whatever it was you were doing."<br/>
<br/>
"But you didn't even talk to me later," you complain as you bring your hands up to hug yourself. You want to show a bit of vulnerability, try and see if you can make him feel bad. "I spent all evening and all night alone, Geoff. I could've really used some company, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
Mansfield reaches out and grasps one of your hand but quickly you pull it back.<br/>
<br/>
"No way," you state, "I'm going to think of what you can do to make it up to me. You're not getting anything out of me until then." You try to add a bit of playfulness to mollify him a bit. He protests but you're having none of it and by that point you've since turned on your heel and made your way towards the school proper; alone.<br/>
<br/>
Much as you'd love to just tear Mansfield down here and now you know you can't do it and it'd be incredibly out of character. But you can certainly play up Lisa's own frustrations towards her at times inattentive boyfriend and take pleasure in needling the jackass in any small way you can. But another feeling, not quite of dread but heavy in your gut all the same, begins to manifest as you get the stuff you'll need for first period.<br/>
<br/>
Walberg's class is always one that presents a weird mix of emotions for Lisa after all and you'll have a first-hand account of all of it.</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132122
author_id: rugal
title: A Consultation with Cindy Vredenburg
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You shoot off a series of texts to the others very soon after waking up telling them that you've given some though to a beta and while you have some ideas you're still a little unsure and you'd rather talk to them first and get a little bit of advice.<br/>
<br/>
<i>thats good,</i> Phillip texts back. <i>better to be cautious with this.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>we'll talk thru the day,</i> adds Carlos.<br/>
<br/>
You talk with them a little bit more in order to work out a loose schedule for your consultations. They'll take place throughout the first half of the day or close enough to give you a little bit of time to think over their suggestions and see which, if any, you'd take to heart. Once that's done you getup fully, get ready and head off to school.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're sitting in the library a good half hour before classes start. Not because you're suddenly getting diligent in your studies but rather because the first of your friends, and this one gets the term a little more solidly than the other, is scheduled to meet with you. Though usually a hang out for the seniors taking a study hall, before school it tends to be used as a hang out for people who want to get away from the weather. Thus the only studying being done is by you as you look at and catalog the students milling around.<br/>
<br/>
Boys and girls, seniors and who you assume are underclassmen. Students you know and students you don't. But you catch sight of one student that you do know gazing around as if she's looking for something... or someone. Since you know who she's looking for you raise your hand and with her attention now caught she makes her way over to you.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey there Will," Cindy smiles as she takes a seat next you.<br/>
<br/>
Though you know that it's really Keith under that gorgeous doll-like face you can still see only Cindy so when she smiles, when she sits next to you, when she places a friendly hand on your shoulder, you can't help but shudder in nervous excitement. But you try to brush away any other thoughts about her before they develop. <i>That's not Cindy. That's not Cindy Vredenburg. That's really a guy and not just any guy but my spaz friend Keith Tilley</i>, is all you think.<br/>
<br/>
"You've adjusted well," you respond, maybe trying to reaffirm that this isn't the real girl.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh don't I know it," she laughs softly in that airy, melodious voice. "The things I've had Seth do already..." she trails off as she looks both devious and wistful.<br/>
<br/>
"You know," you say, "I know you're, uh, broken up with Seth but before you had did you, uh..."<br/>
<br/>
"Did I...?" she asks and gets a thoughtful look on her face. "Well, I did what I needed to do to keep up the charade. At first anyway."<br/>
<br/>
You want to shudder at that. Is that what you're going to have to do when you're a girl? Especially one with a boyfriend? But this nise Cindy seems to not even give it a second thought. And another thought of yours that follows from that. "Uh what if I never found out?" you ask. "Like about what you guys were doing and I, uh, got it in my head to ask <i>you</i> out?"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy looks surprised for a second but smirks slyly. "Well, we wanted to make you popular..." she replies as she runs her fingers down your chest. You shudder with nervous excitement again and Cindy pulls her hand back and lets loose with another soft laugh. "Your face, man!" she says through laughs. "Oh, that's great!"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, don't do that!" you respond sharply.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh man, you were so, like, conflicted."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you going to help me or are you going to keep fucking with me?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry, yeah, but you slow pitched that right down the plate dude," she states and that seems to give her a bit of inspiration. "But it's really fun, man. Fucking with people, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why would I want to do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I just told you, it's fun!" she shoots back excitedly. "Plus you'll be able to get back at some group of assholes that really deserves it like I did with Seth."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, and who would that be?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Another thoughtful look crosses over Cindy's face as she's quiet for a moment. "Amanda Ferguson," she grins.<br/>
<br/>
"She'd be good?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dude, yes! I mean if you're like me at all, and we're pals so you definitely are, then you probably want to get back at, like, Mansfield and Kelsey and all of those snooty cunts right?" he asks. "And Amanda's just like... she's got this aura about her right? Like she's untouchable? She's Kelsey's best friend so if you wanted to mess with her... oh, and she's hot as hell! Always a bonus."<br/>
<br/>
It makes a lot of sense you realize and you can't deny wanting the opportunity to get back at those snobs. And she is undoubtedly one of the most attractive girls in the school with an ice cool confidence that seems to elevate her above the concerns of the rest of the mortals that surround her.<br/>
<br/>
Cindy then begins ticking off her fingers as she starts throwing out names. "Andrea Varnsworth, Gloria Rea," she continues.<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, wait. You're just throwing out girls that <i>you</i> have the hots for."<br/>
<br/>
"Well duh," she replies. "But if you wanted to help yourself and mess with anyone else too..."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay and what about hanging out with you?" you counter. "Does Cindy hang out with Andrea? I don't think she'd be caught dead with someone like Gloria either."<br/>
<br/>
"You're right," she says while thinking. "Yumi'd probably serve the same purpose I guess... oh!" Her face lights up as inspiration strikes. "We could, like, play-act the whole cheerleader civil war shit. Mess with the others just as much you know? Have some fun."<br/>
<br/>
"And what if I don't want to do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"What if you don't... ugh, fine," she throws her hands up. "What about Jenny then?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ashton?"<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Durr</i>, you know another Jenny?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah but isn't she our friend?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, and?" Cindy counters. "You want to help yourself, stay close to me and fuck with people--"<br/>
<br/>
"I never said anything about that last part," you mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"--so Jenny's, like, really well placed. She's not <i>popular</i> but she's kind of low-key crazy connected."<br/>
<br/>
It's surprisingly good logic you have to say and you find it hard to put forward a compelling argument against her outside of the fact she is, like you'd said, a friend. A very loose one that you never talk to outside of when you eat lunch with James and Carson and them. You don't even really know a whole lot about her so how good of a friend is she anyway? It's a suggestion you'll have to take seriously but even still you can't help but continue to be argumentative for the sake of it.<br/>
<br/>
"Even still, it makes me feel a little weird," you tell her. "Is there anyone else Cindy knows or has an idea about who could help my popularity?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not that I can really--" she starts but is cut off by another girl's voice.<br/>
<br/>
"H-e-ey!" comes a greeting in a very lazy drawl. A girl is headed your way and giving you a very interested, though as lazy as her speech, look. You wonder if she's talking to Cindy but she takes a seat on the other open side of you and you realize you're sandwiched between two definitely attractive, though opposite looking, girls.<br/>
<br/>
Where Cindy is slim, platinum-haired and something of a Barbie doll come to life this other girl has a little more meat to her (though not enough to even approach curvy) with jeans clinging tightly to her thighs, a simple t-shirt and straight dark hair. Something about her looks familiar but you can't quite place it.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry I missed you yesterday," she says as she looks right at you; you flinch as she places a hand comfortably right on your thigh. "Stuff just got, like, so hectic ya know? I couldn't respond back to your text."<br/>
<br/>
You'd texted her? Well that... doesn't quite narrow it down but you play along all the same. "Oh, well that's fine. I mean I could've gotten back to you sooner too," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"Mhm, yeah but I won't hold it against you," she says as she stands up. "I've got some rounds I've gotta make, just figured I'd let you know that I totally got your message though since we the Walrus will get on us if we talk. But I'll see you in there, 'kay?"<br/>
<br/>
You have this girl in Walberg's? Things are getting a little less hazy but it's not cleared up until Cindy pipes in.<br/>
<br/>
"Dorothy Harmon? How'd you get <i>her</i> interested in you?"<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy Harmon? Oh, of course! One of the girls you'd danced with at the Warehouse, at least you think you did because you'd certainly texted her on Stephanie's advice. She never actually responded though. "I dunno, I don't even know a thing about her," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"She's this stoner chick, hangs around with a rel mish-mosh of a group. Jordanna Trujillo and Spencer Osbourne and that whole crowd. I think Bethany Lewis is there too."<br/>
<br/>
That name you do know as you share a class with her. She's an adorably elfin girl that you know as being on the swim team. "Doesn't seem like the type of person Cindy would hang out with," you say about Dorothy.<br/>
<br/>
"Ah, well Cindy kind of knows her. They, uh, run into each other ever so often," she replies.<br/>
<br/>
"They seem like polar opposites."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh they are," Cindy states but her face lights up again. "But she, you know, knows a lot of people too so she'd definitely be a good choice for a beta. I could probably get her out or hell, you probably could."</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321221
author_id: rugal
title: A Consultation with Jessica Garner
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You don't give any sort of positive or negative response to that. You simply tell Cindy that if she thinks Dorothy's a good idea then you'll keep her in mind. Cindy, after all, is the one who better has her finger on the pulse of the school's social scene than you do. She titters but agrees with your assessment and shortly thereafter the bell for first period rings.<br/>
<br/>
In Walberg's class you're on the look out for Dorothy but only catch a glimpse of her as she comes in just before class starts and takes a seat clear on the other side of the room. She does give you a smile and a small wave when she sees you however.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, so what do you think of her?" you ask Caleb as you motion over to Dorothy. "Dorothy Harmon."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think," he shrugs. "She's cute I guess. Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, uh, do you know anything about her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing at all," he states. "Again, why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well I was hanging out in the library before class because... well, just because," you explain. "So she comes up to me and is being really flirty, like touching my leg and stuff. I guess I was with her at one point at the Warehouse."<br/>
<br/>
At that Caleb's demeanor turns much frostier. "Uh huh, well do whatever," he says coolly. "If you want to ask her out then do it. It'll probably be better for you to actually have a girl."<br/>
<br/>
"Dude, what the hell's your problem?" you demand. "You've been acting like an asshole pretty much from the moment we went out there."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb turns to look at you but only shakes his head after a moment. "Nothing's wrong," he says flatly. "Nothing at all. Glad you're having fun."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The rest of the period goes as normal and though you don't get a chance to really talk to Dorothy she does give you a simple message, telling you that maybe you should meet up some time to continue where you left off. And that's when it hits you that this was the same Dorothy Harmon you were looking for Monday because the two of you had apparently made out at the Warehouse. And made out quite a bit.<br/>
<br/>
Things have been such a whirl over the last few days that you can't make heads or tails of anything and details of that time at the Warehouse seem to come and go on a whim. At the same time you get a text from Jessica asking if you can skip second to meet her in the library and as it's only your Films as Literature class you acquiesce. There is a bit of irony you think, however, in the fact that it was an attempt to get extra credit in this class that helped start this whole thing.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess I'm going to be making this place my home," you joke weakly as you take a seat across from her. You don't want to risk a repeat of the uncomfortableness from this morning.<br/>
<br/>
"It's easiest to do it during our study halls," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"And make me miss all my classes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you missing anything important?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it's just Hawkes' bullshit class this period and a nothing business planning class next," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"That's good," she perks up, "because Eva's study hall is third period so it'd probably be a good idea to stay here. But we should probably get down to business. Did Keith help you any?"<br/>
<br/>
"A little," you respond. "Amanda Ferguson and a few others were who he brought up. Jenny Ashton too."<br/>
<br/>
"Jenny... yeah she'd be good for you I think," Jessica says but a light comes to her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
You can't help but notice it yourself. "You've got your own ideas though?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, a few," she says as she takes out her phone. You see her scrolling through and swiping and doing whatever until she seems happy. She passes the phone to you. "Alana Ocampo," she says, "she's a choir girl."<br/>
<br/>
You see a girl, hispanic and pretty with long straight hair but a wearing a backwards camo ball cap. "She doesn't look like one," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Looks aren't everything, man," Jessica replies. "She's in a lot of the higher end classes. Real smart girl, real pretty. You'd like her."<br/>
<br/>
From the way your partner's talking you can't help but wonder if it's <i>Carlos</i> that might like her. But you're smart enough to not actually voice that thought and instead go back to the phone. "Anyone else?" you ask as this Alana girl isn't particularly catching your interest.<br/>
<br/>
"Go to the next one," she says and so you do. "Trina Murillo. She's dating Marcos Rivera from the soccer team."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," you say quickly beginning to lose interest. Yes, she's cute but... that's it?<br/>
<br/>
"Well Marcos is, like, really tight with Marc. Jessica's brother," she says. "So if you're with the girl who's with one of Marc Garner's closest friends..."<br/>
<br/>
Now that does give you pause as you can see where he's going. That would put you in good with this Marcos guy which puts you in good with Marc. He's handsome, athletic, smart and the dream guy of practically half the school's female population. So it's not so much that this Trina girl can help you herself but if you can angle into getting a guy like Marc to vouch for you then you'll be sitting higher than you ever were.<br/>
<br/>
Absentmindedly you swipe again to see if there are any pictures of this girl and her boyfriend or hanging around Marc. "Who's this?" you ask as you look at a girl, looking like she could be either hispanic or Asian... maybe a mix. Maybe, vaguely, Filipino? She's pretty but in a very unpretentious way, dressed as she is in simple jeans and a dark tank top, bracelets adorning her wrist.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Cristina Ramon," says Jessica as she takes the phone back from you. "Hangs around with the type of people that hang out at the Warehouse I guess. Seems nice."<br/>
<br/>
You can tell from her tone that Jessica isn't as impressed with her as she is with the other two you saw and that's all but confirmed when she off-handedly throws out Victoria Rodriguez's name as a suggestion. That's a name you definitely wouldn't argue against and you ask if she'd be able to get her out to the studio if that's who you wanted.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," she answers. "It shouldn't be that hard."<br/>
<br/>
But much as he might not be sold on this Cristina Ramon girl you're definitely intrigued. If your new popularity is going to mean spending more time at the Warehouse, having a beta that really knows the place and the types of people that regularly hang out there would be incredibly useful to you. So you make special note of her and mentally place her on a list.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's as you're waiting for Eva to come into the library after second period ends that you observe some of the people who show up for this period of study hall. There's Kim Walsh and if anyone could help you out she could but getting her might be the actual problem so she doesn't go on your list. But one that has gone on there has shown up and you take the time to study Jenny closely when you nearly jump from a hand placed on your shoulder as you hear someone take a seat next to you.<br/>
<br/>
"Wow, you're jumpy," giggles a girl, pretty with long, straight red hair. "You probably don't remember but I'm Mindy McAdams. We rode together out the Warehouse? Danced a bit while there/?"<br/>
<br/>
The girl that was sitting on your lap when you were all crammed into that van. How could you forget <i>that</i>? "Yeah, I definitely remember you," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
She giggles again at that. "Glad to hear it," she says as she grabs your hand. "I really don't know how I'd missed you before now but you're definitely cute and I know we had some fun on Friday," she smiles. "I'd really like to get to know you a little better. You know, if we... oh jeez!"<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, it's fine," you try to reassure her. "Uh, well, maybe we should get to know each other instead of just me talking about myself.'<br/>
<br/>
"So you want <i>me</i> to talk about myself?" she asks but there's a warm smile when she dies. "Well, let's start by going back and forth."<br/>
<br/>
So you do and Eva must be taking her sweet time because you're able to go around ten minutes with her. You wouldn't say she's the most interesting person ever but she's very earnest and easy to talk to and like yourself she stumbles a bit here and there but it's all very endearing and in fact serves to put you at ease. After things have dried out for a time though she says that she'd definitely like to get together some time before going and rejoining her friends sitting at another table; Audrey Briscoe and Rachel Bell as she points out.<br/>
<br/>
So you're feeling pretty high on the hog when Eva finally strolls in and takes her own seat at the table. "You better thank me, Will," she says without so much as a proper greeting.<br/>
<br/>
"For what?"<br/>
<br/>
"I practically delivered Mindy right to you," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Delivered her? What do you mean?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
But Eva simply smirks. "She was definitely interested in you and I guess because we were all on in the same van on Friday and she knew you'd been talking to me she started asking me for help," she explains. "Figured that <i>you</i> might be interested in here though."<br/>
<br/>
"As a beta?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"As a... sure, if you want her as one. She'd probably be good for you," Eva says. "But I was thinking she might be better for you as a girlfriend."</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213212211
author_id: rugal
title: A Consultation with Eva Garner
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You can't help but go goggle-eyed at that. First at the thought that Eva Garner (or Mike Hollister playing Eva Garner) is playing wingman for you but also at the thought of you and Mindy. She'd probably make a nice beta for sure but a <i>girlfriend</i>? Not that you'd be opposed to it out of hand but would you be ready? What would you even do? Your partners have helped to give you style and a boost in confidence but it's not like that'll carry you and what happens when the honeymoon period wears off? How do you prevent her from finding you lame?<br/>
<br/>
Well there's maybe a solution to that.<br/>
<br/>
"Not that I don't appreciate you trying to do me a solid, you know? But what if, you know, she realizes that I'm a giant lame nerd?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Will, she's hanging around Rachel Bell and Audrey Briscoe," Eva counters. "It's not like they're unpopular but they're not at the top or even second rung of the social ladder. Mindy's definitely not out of your league. Hell, I don't think anyone is."<br/>
<br/>
"You think you could've gotten with Eva without the masks?" you ask. "Do you think I could've?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I mean, probably with all the caveats about personal preference and stuff removed, sure," she answers confidently. "It's all mindset, dude. You just have to be confident and comfortable, know how to make her laugh, not think like it's the most important bullshit in the world. You didn't really seem to have much of a problem talking to her before I came in."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess," you reply, "but what if, I don't know, I got her as both a beta and a girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't see the problem," she says. "It's still her right? Just that she'd have to do what you tell her."<br/>
<br/>
Whether Eva meant it or not, that's enough to deflate the idea a little bit. If she has to do everything you say then is it really the same thing? She wouldn't be your girlfriend because she wanted to be your girlfriend but because you told her to be your girlfriend. She wouldn't really be herself then, right? She'd just be this thing that's forced to obey. A... well, a beta.<br/>
<br/>
But though that deflates the idea of making Mindy a beta that doesn't mean you can't try to make her your girlfriend. You're struck by another idea, then, if you did want to do that.<br/>
<br/>
"Probably not," you respond. "But that doesn't mean I can't give myself the advantage. I could take, I don't know, Rachel or Audrey as a beta and maybe push her in my direction. If I wanted to date Mindy and I'm not saying I do, it's just a hypothetical."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh," Eva says and she sounds thoroughly unconvinced but seems to roll with it anyway. "But that's the way to think about. Who's going to help you and-slash-or who you simply would want as a beta or want to be. What'd the others have for you?" She nods as she listens to their suggestions. "There's some good ones in there no doubt but it seems like they're kind of forgetting that they're doing this for <i>you</i> and not themselves."<br/>
<br/>
"And you're telling me you've got my best interests at heart?" you snort.<br/>
<br/>
"More or less," she says while gesturing at herself. "I've got what I want. So what do <i>you</i> want? What are you looking for?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I guess someone who can help my popularity like you guys have been doing," you say though you're quick with an addendum. "They have to seem reasonable though. Like Keith's suggestion of Amanda, if she started taking an interest in me that'd be weird right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Probably, although if you played your cards right and take things slow," she says, "but okay, popular but reasonable. That's fine. I, well, Eva, knows plenty of people. She keeps her ear to the ground so she's pretty up to date on a lot of the goings on."<br/>
<br/>
"Like a gossip?"<br/>
<br/>
She shakes her head. "Not like that," she answers, "she's just observant and actually recognizes that things occur outside of her bubble." Quickly though she goes quiet and you can see her sifting through the data as it were. It's a good three minutes, if not more, before she finally talks. "Alright, someone believable," she says as she whips out her phone and swipes and taps a few times before turning it to you to show you someone's social media account, "Emily Sparks would probably be perfect for you then."<br/>
<br/>
You see a girl, and a very cute one at that, with brown hair and large dark-rimmed glasses. But the kind that work with the rest of her look and makes her even cuter. "Who's she?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Hangs out with all the cool artsy kids," she states, "but Eva knows her from the orchestra. Actually, the music area's probably a really good place to look at. A lot of the students are active outside of it too so they'd get you into places. Even being popular in there is no small thing. Like take," she swipes and taps some more, "Genesis Lee."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't see what's so special about her," you say and indeed you don't. She's not ugly but she's a step down from that Emily girl you'd say. Her glasses are also large and dark-framed but her face is a little plain, the dark curly and unstyled hair doesn't help and she's a little bigger overall.<br/>
<br/>
"She's got a lot of friends in the band and orchestra," Eva tells you. "A lot of friends who know a lot of people. I think you were with her on Friday too because she's been talking about you a lot. That's what Eva's heard anyway."<br/>
<br/>
That, of course, changes the entire game for you and she's re-inflated the idea of making a beta of a potential girlfriend.<br/>
<br/>
"Or her," Eva says as she shows you another picture. This time of a girl, who's certainly attractive, but of course you know nothing about and you say as much. "Peyton Morrow, she plays in the orchestra with Eva. Actually in the same section. She'd probably be great for you actually," she says but quickly adds, "if you don't mind having a junior for a beta."<br/>
<br/>
That causes you to flinch. "An underclassmen?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"She's only a grade below us, dude," comes the counterpoint. "And from what Eva knows she's one of the most popular girls in that grade. Junior or not that's a leg up don't you think?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You spend a chunk of the rest of the period looking over at some of the popular junior girls. You're not quite sold on Peyton but one girl does catch your eye with her porcelain skin, hair dyed a deep red and a fashionable coolness. "Sonia Bard," Eva says before making a face, "or Sonia Emilia or Scarlett or... well, she's pretentious. But I guess a lot of underclassmen think she's cool because she's in a band and..."<br/>
<br/>
You stop listening at that point. Having a beta in a popular band is a surefire way to boost your own popularity and coolness so despite what your partner's saying you make it a point to add this Sonia onto your growing list of notable names as well. It's not long after that the bell signaling the end of the period rings so you part from Eva.<br/>
<br/>
"Will!" comes a familiarly excitable voice. You stop and turn back to see Cassie Harper making her way towards you. "I didn't know you had study hall for third," she says with a wide smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Nah, I don't. Just, uh, I had someone who really needed my time so I kind of skipped third," you tell her. Without thinking you've started walking with her towards the English class you both share for fourth.<br/>
<br/>
"Your secret's safe with me," she laughs. "And yeah, you've really been getting popular," she adds with a bit more uncharacteristic nervous trepidation. "Especially with, um, the girls. I've seen, like, all the comments on x2z and stuff and it must be really weird."<br/>
<br/>
"It's overwhelming," you admit, "I'm just not used to any of this."<br/>
<br/>
"Aww, poor Will," she sympathetically coos. "I guess if you want advice about how to deal with girls though you can always come to me. I'm kind of an expert on girls."<br/>
<br/>
It's such a dumb joke, the kind of dumb joke she likes and the kind of dumb joke you can't help but laugh at. You've never had much difficulty talking to Cassie and you've always thought of her as a friend but after all this talk of girlfriends... could you think of her in that way? But you see her talk to a lot of people, even the types of people someone at her level probably shouldn't be able to talk to and you realize that someone like her is bound to have her share of suitors as well.<br/>
<br/>
But she's probably a big point in that whole confidence thing that Eva-slash-Mike was talking about make in the library and you wonder if Cassie might make for a good beta.<br/>
<br/>
As you're walking to class and as she talks you get two texts from Eva. The first is a little frustrating in that Maria's pushed her meeting with you back to the study hall you both share for seventh since it'll be much easier than trying to flip schedules or skip more classes. The second is more intriguing.<br/>
<br/>
<i>that girl u left with? her friend melissa adams would be a great beta</i></span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132122111
author_id: rugal
title: A Consultation with Maria Vasquez
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You text back that you'll keep the name in mind but in reality you don't actually know who she is. Well you do in the loosest sense: she's a nice-looking brunette who sits with Cassie and Beth Tanner, another of Cassie's friends, in your eighth period astronomy class. From looks alone you'd probably put her in that class of people that you're surprised Cassie would be able to talk so freely with and since you're here with the girl herself...<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, so that girl you sit by in Cash's, Melissa? What can you tell me about her?"<br/>
<br/>
Cassie looks at you and blinks in surprise. "Um, wow, are you interested in her or something?" she asks in a manner that's both teasing and friendly.<br/>
<br/>
"Me? Oh no. I don't even know her," you say as you scramble to come up with a plausible story. "But, uh, in the library? There was a guy there who was asking me about her because he was interested. That's why I was there in the first place."<br/>
<br/>
"Because you're such a lady killer now, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right, yeah," you sputter, "but I don't know her so I wasn't really any help. But I guess he saw us leaving together and knows you're friends with her because he asked me to ask you about her. That, um, was that just now. The texts."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, sure!" Cassie chirps. "Okay so Melissa is like, she's really pretty but duh you know <i>that</i> much right? Um, she's popular I guess? She goes to a lot of parties and knows a lot of people anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"She doesn't invite you?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"She does! I just always feel kind of weird when I go so I don't go all that often," she states, "but yeah, Melissa is super nice. She'd probably at least listen to him if he talked to her. Oh and if he brought her some cookies that'd probably help. She always complains that they're going to make her fat but she totally loves them! They're like her favorite junk food! Um, I guess that's all kind of vague though but hopefully it helps."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, yeah, every little bit you know?"<br/>
<br/>
It certainly helps you. If she's as plugged in as Cassie seems to believe she is then she's certainly someone you'd have to consider seriously. So you file her away on your list of potential betas as well.<br/>
<br/>
Fourth period is largely uneventful but since her name was brought up you take special note of Andrea, though aside from the fact she's stunningly gorgeous you're not sure what sets her apart from the others and in terms of helping you. She's always had a reputation as being a bit aloof. But you take note of the way that Bethany, her teammate, casually chats with her in a way that suggests close familiarity.<br/>
<br/>
The type of close familiarity you wouldn't mind having with someone like Bethany.<br/>
<br/>
It's amazing watching how she glides from chatting with Andrea to chatting with Jordana Trujillo, a rough girl who looks like she'd beat your ass five ways from Sunday for looking at her wrong. But Jordana doesn't enjoy the awe that someone like Andrea invokes however so though Keith only brought her up because he thought she was hot, you've now given yourself a reason to seriously consider Andrea as another possibility for your beta.<br/>
<br/>
At lunch you make sure to sit with James and his crew so you can observe Jenny a bit more and in sixth you take notice of the fact you share it with Genesis, especially when she notices you noticing her and turns away bashfully. You note that she's not so bad when you see her in person. You also share sixth with Cindy who asks if you've decided yet but you tell her that you're still thinking about it as you've still got one more meeting.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
At least you don't have to skip any more classes in order to take that meeting: Maria Vasquez is waiting for you in the library when you go in for your regular study hall. She's staring, unblinking, into a corner of the room, as though fascinated by the infinity that stretches out behind the blank wall behind the librarian's desk. Even when she turns at your approach, her gaze goes through you.<br/>
<br/>
Then, with a deep breath, she recalls her attention and focuses on you with a small smile.<br/>
<br/>
God, she's gorgeous, you think as you drop into the chair next to her. She has a great bosom and toned arms, and a great pile of coffee-colored hair that tumbles in loose curls around her face and shoulders. An angular face with a tight jawline and big, dark eyes. Pouting lips and a pert nose. You've seen her in a short skirt, too, so you know that her legs (though hidden) are strong and smooth.<br/>
<br/>
Too bad she's such a space cadet. That pose you caught her in—staring into nothingness—is her usual look. It doesn't help that she's been known to spurt out nonsense from nowhere.<br/>
<br/>
So it's funny to think that that ultra-brainiac, Philip Fairfax, is operating her machinery now. Given what an airhead Maria is, there must be acres and acres of empty room inside her skull for him to spread out. There isn't even much of a personality to get in the way. The sly thought comes to you now: Chelsea Cooper and Cindy Vredenburg have a lot of social wattage at the school, and Eva and Jessica Garner have a lot of friends and interests. What attracted Philip to Maria? It could only have been her body!<br/>
<br/>
Maria's smile turns fades into a frown, and you realize that you've been staring at her without speaking all this time, as though she were an absence instead of a presence. "Hey," you say. "You wanted to talk?"<br/>
<br/>
She grunts softly. "I guess it's convenient. I actually wrote a list up. I guess I could have slipped it into your locker or texted it to you. She pushes a folded piece of paper at you. "These are the logical choices as I see them."<br/>
<br/>
The paper rattles as you unfold it. In girlish, swooping curls are written four names: <i>Catherine Muskov, Kristy Carlson, Jelena Petrovic, Lynette Kolaya</i>.<br/>
<br/>
Two of them you instantly get, for as Philip says, they're logical: Catherine is a popular girl (though she's new to Westside, having moved over from Eastman just this year) with a giant social circle. Jelena fronts a band. A word from either of these would raise your profile. But who's Lynette Kolaya? "She's on the tennis team," Maria says in answer to your question.<br/>
<br/>
"Why do I want to be popular with the tennis team?"<br/>
<br/>
"Get popular with the tennis team, and they make you popular with lots of other people. Do you know who's on it?" You shake your head, and Maria rattles off a bunch of names you don't know, except for two: Kelsey Blankenship and Brooke Galloway. "Why not go straight for Kelsey?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Is she a fan of yours now?"<br/>
<br/>
You make a face. "So how could Lynette make me popular with Kelsey?"<br/>
<br/>
"Indirectly. With a nudge. Lynette would be a lever moving other levers. She moves Kelsey and Sophie and Rani, and Cody and Terry and Sean, and they move other people."<br/>
<br/>
That's got to be the cleverest kind of stupidity you've ever heard. Philip must be letting Maria's brain get to him. "And Kristy?"<br/>
<br/>
"She goes to Eastman. It occurs to me that you could leave Westside to us, while you use an Eastman student to get yourself some popularity over there."<br/>
<br/>
That sounds better, but you don't know her, and ask to see a picture. Maria takes out her cell phone.<br/>
<br/>
To kill time, you ask, "Who are you picking for your other beta?"<br/>
<br/>
"Haven't decided yet."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, who are you thinking about?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's lots of possibilities."<br/>
<br/>
Indeed there are. But now you're intrigued. Maria's face is a blank, but it seems like Philip is dodging you. "So who are some of those possibilities?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm waiting to see what you and the other guys decide. I'll pick someone who <i>logically</i> fits in with their choices."<br/>
<br/>
You can't help grinning. "Maybe that Trina girl, or whatever her name is, that Marcos is going out with?"<br/>
<br/>
Maria's lips whiten, and she shoots you a sidelong glare. "If you know about that, I'm guessing Carlos mentioned it?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you say, then you snicker. "Well, shit, man. If we're thinking logically, tell me who you're thinking about, so I can maybe pick out someone who can logically go with them."<br/>
<br/>
"There's a lot of variables, Wil. I think you should leave it to me."<br/>
<br/>
Variables? Maria doing a math problem? <i>Hilarious</i>. Her nostrils flare as you snicker again.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, just give me one name," you goad her. "Don't tell me you picked Maria because she was <i>logical</i>."<br/>
<br/>
"She was the logical choice," she insists as she turns the phone to you. "Someone to link Chelsea with the others.<br/>
<br/>
You ignore the proffered phone. "One name," you repeat. "The most logical name you can think of to link all of us now and all the new betas."<br/>
<br/>
Maria stares at you. Her brow is heavy and her eyes are dark, and her jaw is clenched. There's just the faintest blush under her cocoa-shaded skin.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," she says after you have grinned into the silence between you for half an eternity. "One name? Coach Tesla."<br/>
<br/>
You almost fall out of your chair.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That was all that Maria had to say, after that she stalked off to the girls' restroom, where you couldn't follow her. That's okay. You're pretty sure that "Coach Tesla" meant "Fuck you", it's probably best that Fairfax left so you couldn't keep teasing him. But you do have to wonder why he was so defensive. Was it because he really is trying to be logical about this project? Or was he just too embarrassed to admit any names?<br/>
<br/>
Eighth period is Astronomy—a bullshit class—and during it you doodle names in your notebook, arranging them in lists and disqualifying them one at a time. By the time the bell rings, you've narrowed it down to four.<br/>
<br/>
Maria is very quick about shooting you a curt, and very blunt text: <i>who have you picked?</i> she asks before following it up with an equally blunt <i>we need a choice now</i>.</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321221111
author_id: rugal
title: The Popular
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Right now? Is in right now? As in right this very instant now? You text back as much and the response is both expected and disconcerting.<br/>
<br/>
<i>yes. work to do. need time to do it.</i><br/>
<br/>
It's incredibly brusque though that's unsurprising. Given how much you were needling her you wonder if you've pissed Maria off. However you avoid actually asking her about it and think that it's better to give her time to cool off.<br/>
<br/>
They need an answer now? Well you'd narrowed it down to four and hadn't really had the chance to really weigh the pros and cons of each one. But there was one person that had taken a lead, even if it was a small one, as you were in the final stages of whittling down that list and now being put on the spot with no real time to think... well, there's nothing wrong with them you suppose. So you type in the girl's name and send it to Maria.<br/>
<br/>
<i>you sure?</i> she asks and your response is confirming that yes, this is who you want. <i>ok we'll get to work,</i> she says before following it up with another text. <i>meet us at top shelf around 10.</i><br/>
<br/>
That certainly confuses you. Ten o'clock on a school night? <i>y so late?</i> you ask.<br/>
<br/>
<i>have to set things up + other reasons</i>, comes the terse response. <i>is that too late?</i><br/>
<br/>
Ten will really be pushing it and though your curfew's at eleven you know that your dad will grumble and give you guff if you come troling in after ten. But still, you think you can manage it so you text back an affirmative. <i>it'll be fine</i>, you send and that nets a confirmation from Maria.<br/>
<br/>
So ten o'clock out at a studio in a storage facility on the edge of town. Oh your parents would definitely have fits if they knew where you were going. But they won't, or they shouldn't. So the important question becomes less about how you're going to play off where you'd been and more about what youre going to do in the intervening time?<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Not really knowing what else to do you decide to head back to the library to kill a bit of time while you think of something other than just going home. There's a little more traffic than you'd expect and though you don't recognize most of the students in here you do recognize Amanda Ferguson, one of the girls that Keith had suggested.<br/>
<br/>
Even from where you are, half the library away, it's like you can feel that aura that he had mentioned to you. As she browses and moves you note how people seem to naturally make room for her; she has to do nothing. Not even look at them. In fact as she walks through another group they part like the Red Sea while she, books in hand, is looking only at the phone in her other. Even as she walks past you, though you're not quite in her path, you feel as if you have to make room. For one brief second she lifts her head just enough to check her surroundings before she goes back to the phone screen.<br/>
<br/>
It's enough for you to catch a glimpse at dark eyes that show only disinterest and of a face that seems locked into a kind of bored scowl. Her hair -- long, thick and matching her eyes in color -- bounces as she moves while her clothes, equally dark in color, cling to a well-shaped body while her shirt is cut low enough to show a generous amount of cleavage.<br/>
<br/>
Everything about her shows a girl with ultimate confidence in herself though not showing off for the benefit of others; like she doesn't need their approval. But neither is anything about her disdainful. No, to show disdain for someone else would mean acknowledging that they even exist and Amanda Ferguson likely sees herself as existing on a different plane entirely. It would take most people, you especially, moving heaven and earth to get her to knowledge their existence.<br/>
<br/>
Against her even someone like Andrea Varnsworth is down to earth.<br/>
<br/>
"She's something, huh?" says someone as they sit down at your table and your stomach immediately starts doing flips because it's none other than Catherine Muskov herself who smiles at you while brushing back soft brown hair. "I've been trying to get her to come out to my place for some time but no dice. Can you believe I've gotten Kelsey out there but not Amanda?" she laughs.<br/>
<br/>
"Wow, um I can't imagine anyone turning you down like that. Uh, an invitation from you," you say. Though her demeanor is friendly, such is the force that Catherine exudes that you can't help but feel intimidated even though logically you shouldn't be.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not really an invitation," she shrugs, "although maybe an open one? It's not like I'm exclusive about who shows up at my place so I don't really do invitations."<br/>
<br/>
To your surprise she leans forward and she looks you up and down for a moment, then leans back again and smiles. "You're Prescott right? That guy that was trending on x2z over the weekend?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"The one and only I guess."<br/>
<br/>
"I see you in class but, you know..." she says but leaves the thought hanging.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm surprised you're even here," you say as you shift uncomfortably. "Um, not the library but, like, at this table."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just waiting on a friend," she replies, "and with you trending and then Reagan and Kayla talking about you I figured I should get a look for myself."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," she replies. "How long you been going to Westside anyway?"<br/>
<br/>
Has your presence up to now been that insignificant? "Uh, all four years," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"Hmm, well some people are late bloomers so no worries, I was just curious." She looks you over again. "You know, there's probably gonna be a party at my place this weekend," she tells you.<br/>
<br/>
Wait, is Catherine Muskov inviting you to one of her parties? "I thought you said you didn't do invitations?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Who said it was an invite?" she replies. "I'm just letting you know in case you want to show up," she says and with a grin adds, "Maybe trend again."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, hopefully it'd be for better reasons," you say as you slump.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing wrong with being the life of the party," she reassures you. "You should've definitely come out to a few earlier by the way. You'd have had fun."<br/>
<br/>
"Well I don't think I, well the old me, would've fit in."<br/>
<br/>
"Says who?" she challenges but she's not doing it to pick at you. "We get all kinds out there. Last week there was even some of those guys that play the, uh, games? With the dice and the little figures? Long as you just want to chill and have some fun you'd have fit right in."<br/>
<br/>
"You think so?"<br/>
<br/>
"They're my parties aren't they?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry I took so long Cat," says a dark-haired girl as she approaches the table. "Coach needed to talk to me and Maggie. You ready to get out of here?"<br/>
<br/>
You recognize her as Mandy Tiller, a softball player who you also share fourth period with. In fact she's usually hanging around Catherine as she sits behind her.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Catherine says as she turns to her and hops up. Though quickly she turns back to you. "Seriously though, come out this weekend. You'll have fun."<br/>
<br/>
"You know him?" you hear Mandy ask as she and Catherine walk off.<br/>
<br/>
"Only just met him. Seems..." It trails off from there as they move out of earshot.<br/>
<br/>
Though intimidated because holy hell it's Catherine freaking Muskov you were surprised by how personable, how down to earth, she seems to be. She's like the complete opposite of Amanda. Where Amanda is detached and regal, Catherine is connected and a woman of the people... or so that's the impression you get.<br/>
<br/>
It's like the two opposite ends of the popularity spectrum and it's a pretty interesting dichotomy to see up close. You're left to wonder, then, if this is something you'll act when you're a popular girl. Will you keep to their own inclinations or whill you go to your own? Will you keep the status quo or tip over the apple cart?<br/>
<br/>
You ponder that forea few minutes until you too decided it'd be best go home for the time being.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You manage to make it home just in time for dinner and the close call nets you a few disapproving glowers from your father. From there you waste a bit of time half-heartedly doing some homework until around eight-thirty. You make up the excuse of having to run something to a friend when your parents question you about where you're headed and, promises to be back by curfew made, you're out the door.<br/>
<br/>
You while away the time at a Starbucks and during that time you get a message from Jessica saying that it took a bit of ingenuity and pressing of the issue but they were able to get your choice to agree to come out to the studio around ten. So around nine thirty you leave and make your way out to the storage facility.<br/>
<br/>
It's to your surprie that there are more cars than you'd have thought out there but only one that you don't really recognize. Does it belong to <i>them</i>? You shiver with nervous excitement. Not long from now you'll have a beta of your own, a new identity you'll be able to slip into. Yes, very soon you'll have a mask of...</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213212211112
author_id: seuzz
title: Replacements Three
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You had texted ahead on leaving Starbucks, to say you were on your way, so you're not surprised that someone's waiting when you open the door to the climate-controlled unit. His face—narrow and sun-darkened, with angled cheekbones and flashing eyes under coffee-colored hair—isn't new to you, but you can't put a name to it.<br/>
<br/>
"Ay, Prescott!" he exclaims, and a white grin, sharp as a scimitar, slashes across his face. "Me alegra de verte otra vez!"<br/>
<br/>
Before you can say "Huh?" he grabs you by the collar and smashes something into your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Voices are sounding the next you know something, but you can't make out the words, even after you sit up onto your elbow with a wince. You look around. You're in the hallway of the climate unit—blue metal doors running down both sides of the corridor—and are sprawling on a hand cart. <i>Dumped on it, like a bag of loose junk,</i> would probably be a better way of putting it. It wobbles as you grab the handle and pull yourself up into a sitting position.<br/>
<br/>
Two of the nearby doors are open, and it's out of one of these that the voices are coming. One voice is harsh and raucous, rising above the others, and it sounds like the asshole who socked you in the face. You stagger to your feet.<br/>
<br/>
It's Carlos's studio that the voices are coming from, and there's three girls perched on the big desk, facing a guy—yeah, it's that asshole—who is lounging behind it with his hands clasped behind his head. He breaks out in that same biting grin when he sees you. "Ay, back with us, man. How was your nap?"<br/>
<br/>
You glower back at him, and at the girls as they turn toward you. Cindy smiles at you; Maria only gives you a quick look up and down.<br/>
<br/>
But Kendra Saunders squeals and hops over at you. You freeze all over as she takes your face between her hands and grins at you. "You are so adorable, Will!" she gushes. "I don't think I've ever told you that!"<br/>
<br/>
"Your girl's in the next room," Maria says, "waiting for you to take your clothes off."<br/>
<br/>
"What?"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy takes your arm. "Come on," she says, "I'll show you. These guys are being a lot of jerks."<br/>
<br/>
"'F'you need help getting into your new bra and panties," the guy jeers as Cindy leads you out, "just lemme know!"<br/>
<br/>
"What the fuck is going on?" you mutter at Cindy. "Uh, Keith?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it's me," she says. "And say hi to the new you," she adds as she pulls you into Carlos's workout room.<br/>
<br/>
You jerk to a stop. Huddled behind the workout bench, with his knees up under his chin, is the most miserable-looking teenage boy you've ever seen. His mouth and eyes are twisted into a frightened grimace as he peers up at you, and his face pales under its fading, summertime tan. "Oh God," he croaks.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," you whisper when you find your own voice. The sight fills you with horror—it's you, your own very self, seemingly torn whole from your own flesh and dropped naked onto the cold concrete floor.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it's kind of freaky the first time you see your own beta," Cindy says. She squeezes your arm. "Come on, get out of your things so you can send it home."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Home.</i> That's right, you need to send this thing home. Back to your house, back to your family, so it can take your place, so it can <i>be you.</i><br/>
<br/>
And you've got to hurry, because you—because <i>it</i>—has a curfew.<br/>
<br/>
"How did you make the thing?" you mutter as you peel back your suspenders and kick off your shoes.<br/>
<br/>
"With a mask, Will. We explained all that to you, remember?'<br/>
<br/>
"I mean—" You grimace back at the thing as you unbutton your pants. "I mean, when did you make a mask of me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just now. When you got here. What's the matter with you, Will? Don't you remember?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't remember anything! Except that guy— Who is that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Back in studio? That's Carlos. Well, Marcos, that's what you have to call him now. You remember Marcos, we had him—"<br/>
<br/>
"Stop telling me what I remember, man." You yank off the last of your things with a hard shiver and toss them at your doppelganger; it grabs them from the middle of the air with clawed hands. "I walked in the door and that guy just said hey, howdy, and socked me in the face with something."<br/>
<br/>
"Guess he was in a hurry. Anyway, yeah, we made a mask of you and put it onto Andrea." She grips your arm. "That's a good choice, by the way," she says. "I most definitely approve."<br/>
<br/>
Your eye flicks back over to your double, who is trying to get dressed while still squatting behind the workout bench. <i>That's not me,</i> you marvel. <i>That's Andrea Varnsworth, and they've used magic to turn her into me.<br/>
<br/>
Poor girl.</i><br/>
<br/>
But then you shiver with anticipation: <i>And in a few minutes I'm going to be her!</i><br/>
<br/>
But Cindy is still talking. "And we made a couple more substitutions tonight. Philip called Kendra out, 'cos Kendra and Maria are friends—supposedly—and he also got Marcos to come out, said they were all gonna watch a movie together, but, you know. I came out too, 'cos Kendra's a bitch and I wanted to see her get it. And we managed to get Andrea out too, though that was a lot harder, apparently."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh. So that's Carlos and Philip back in there? Kendra and Marcos are their new  whatyacallems?"<br/>
<br/>
"Betas. And it's Carlos and Mike back there, not— Philip hasn't got his new beta yet. Josiah hasn't got his either."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Right. Josiah.</i> You're always forgetting about Josiah because he's never around. "So if I'm s'posed to be Andrea, where's—?"<br/>
<br/>
But Cindy says, "Psht, be right back," and hops from the room.<br/>
<br/>
You glance over as your beta stands up. He looks a lot better when dressed. Come to think of it, he looks a lot better than he should, especially after he's settled that battered leather hat on his head. <i>Yeah, the clothes make a difference.</i> Rugged jeans, a rugged shirt, suspenders and hiking boots and an outdoorsy hat ... It's an actual style and it suits the thing's frame.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," you tell it.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey yourself," it retorts, and you feel yourself curdling a little under its glare. "They tell me I'm supposed to do whatever you tell me to do."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." It flinches. "Fuck. And I can tell that they're right." It hunches defensively.<br/>
<br/>
For a moment you're tempted to tell it to punch itself in the balls, or to do some other stupidly painful thing, to prove that it really is your obedient robo-replacement. But Cindy returns first.<br/>
<br/>
"Here." She thrusts a small pile of clothing at you; a mask balances atop. She jerks her chin at your beta. "You want him staying to watch?"<br/>
<br/>
"What? Oh, fuck no! You can take off now," you tell your beta.<br/>
<br/>
He leaps past you and is out the door before you think to yell after: "Hey!" His face appears in the doorway, eyes glittering feverishly in a pale face. "You know what to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Do what?"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy pokes you. "He knows everything you knew, Will, right to the minute you got here."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that right?" You nod at the thing. "Where you going now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Home, right?" he says. "Dad'll be steamed if I don't—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, okay, take off now. I'll see you tomorrow I guess."<br/>
<br/>
Your beta gets a shifty look, then disappears. Only then, too late, do you realize: <i>It's thinking about seeing me at school tomorrow, when I'm Andrea.</i><br/>
<br/>
Cindy pokes you again. "I don't know if Andrea has a curfew. But Mike and Carlos are dying to have Andrea back."<br/>
<br/>
Your heart bobbles between your gut and your throat, like a yo-yo.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It was chilly when you lay back on the workout bench and dropped Andrea's mask onto your face, and it's chilly when you wake. For a long moment you stare at the ceiling, thinking, <i>Where am I?</i><br/>
<br/>
Then you remember the storage unit, and the workout bench, and the mask, and Carlos and Marcos and Kendra and Cindy and Keith and Maria and ...<br/>
<br/>
You close your eyes and cover your face with your hands. The planes of your cheek feel both familiar and unfamiliar. <i>Andrea?</i> you call into the hollows of your mind. <i>Are you there?</i><br/>
<br/>
In answer come images: a dowdy little white frame house; a small living room with bare plaster walls and a bare wooden floor; the lined but merry face of your mother and the faces of friends; the crisp and invigorating chill of water over your limbs and the warmth of sunlight on your arms and legs; the dusty, leafy smell of the backyard garden and the thump of techno music from inside the house—<br/>
<br/>
And the phone call from Cindy Vredenburg, badgering you to come out and join her and some of the other cheerleaders who are watching a movie, and how it turned out to be inside a storage unit of all places. You didn't want to stay and was about to make some excuse for why you had to leave, when a cell phone chirped and then Marcos Rivera—who had been leering at you—leaned over and pressed something onto your face—<br/>
<br/>
It should all be quite alarming, but you let these memories flutter around you like the buttery leaves dropping from a tree.<br/>
<br/>
But then you cup your breasts—firm but yielding—in your hands, and a warm flush flows through you. <br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132122111121
author_id: seuzz
title: Alone in the Dark with You and Andrea
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You relax on the workout bench for a few minutes, gently cupping and squeezing your breasts until muffled voices sounding through the wall remind you that the others are waiting on you, and might come busting in on you if you don't get a move on. With a sigh you sit up—<br/>
<br/>
And you suck in a short, sharp breath at the sight of the bush between your legs. Just looking at it causes it to warm.<br/>
<br/>
But there will be time tonight to get to know it better. You look about for your clothes.<br/>
<br/>
There aren't many of them. Andrea Varnsworth never dresses up. But when you've got a body like Andrea's, you don't have to.<br/>
<br/>
You pull some panties up over your scissor-like legs and snap them about your hip. You pull the bra straps over your shoulders, hook them into place, then twist them around and tuck yourself into the cups. She had changed into jeans for this movie night, but they are old, broken-down things with frayed cuffs and worn spots, and they hang loosely off your hips once you've got them on. You drape a loose, black t-shirt over your torso, then—hardly noticing what you're doing—pull your loosely tangled hair behind your neck and shake it out. You push your long feet into the discarded flip-flops.<br/>
<br/>
All this time you've avoided looking at yourself in the floor-length mirror that Carlos has propped against a wall. But now you do turn to give yourself a once-over appraisal.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea Varnsworth looks back at you from under a hooded brow.<br/>
<br/>
Her face is narrow and a little hard, with eyes that settle naturally into a wary gaze. Her brown hair is thick but manageable, and you pat and pull it now so that it drapes easily and casually onto the tops of your shoulders. Her torso is slim and sculpted, as though smoothed by the flowing water that she loves to cut through. You hug yourself, and shiver a little.<br/>
<br/>
Then, with only one quick glance back into the mirror, you shut off the light and step out into the corridor.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Is that you, honey?" your mom calls after you've shut the front door behind you with a click, and shoved the deadbolt back into place. "How was the movie?"<br/>
<br/>
"It was fine," you call back, and cross the darkened living room to the short hallway out of which spills a stream of yellow-orange light. Andrea's mom—your mom, now, for the time—is propped up in bed with a book and a cup of tea. "It was boring," you add softly.<br/>
<br/>
"What did you watch?"<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. "I don't remember. Just a movie."<br/>
<br/>
"Who was there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just some people. Some of the cheerleaders." You grind your toe against the floor. All the floors in the house are bare wood, and not of the expensive hardwood kind, just bare boards sanded smooth. "I think they were trying to set me up with someone."<br/>
<br/>
She smiles. "Did it work?"<br/>
<br/>
"No." Even you can barely hear the word. "He wasn't my type."<br/>
<br/>
Your mom shrugs. "It doesn't always work out. As long as you weren't disappointed." She hesitates. "I hope it wasn't too awkward for you."<br/>
<br/>
"It wasn't. It was just boring. I'm going to go to bed now. Can I bring you anything?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, honey, but thanks. I'll see you in the morning."<br/>
<br/>
You nod, and pull her door half-closed behind you.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea's bedroom is at the other end of that very short hallway, and you duck inside it and close the door only long enough to strip off your jeans and change into a pair of linen pajama bottoms. Then it's into the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. Back in the bedroom, you throw off your t-shirt and bra and pull on a pajama top. Then you slip into bed.<br/>
<br/>
You stare at the ceiling as you waver between indulging and resisting the urge to do a little spelunking with your fingers. It's not a temptation that Andrea often resists, but it's also not a temptation that persistently comes to her. At the moment her body feels cold and unyielding, like stiff clay, and you're too shamefaced to put in the work you'd need to in order to loosen it up. In the end, you compromise by putting a hand down the front of your pajama bottoms and digging your fingers into the bush. But you only lightly stroke and press at it, and let your mind play back over memories of the evening. <br/>
<br/>
They urged you to stay—Carlos and Philip and Keith and Mike, in their disguises—and to make a party of it. <i>We're staying out till one or two, at least,</i> Carlos boasted. <i>We found out how late our guys can stay before having to be back home. Couldn't find out how long Andrea could stay out, though. But you should stay out late with us, go home after everyone's gone to bed, don't get caught before the memories start coming.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>What do you mean?</i> you asked.<br/>
<br/>
<i>It takes a couple of hours for the memories to start coming,</i> Philip explained. <i>I thought we mentioned that. They don't really come until after you've had a chance to sleep inside a mask. Being unconscious seems to ease the merger process.</i><br/>
<br/>
You felt like you had all of Andrea's memories—at least enough of them to fake your way at home—and said you thought you'd take a chance on going home and going straight to bed.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Come on, party,</i> Carlos urged. <i>We're gonna take our clothes off, get to know each other inside and out.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>No we're not,</i> Mike shrieked. <i>Pervert.</i> Carlos laughed.<br/>
<br/>
<i>I know you just got your first beta,</i> Philip said, <i>and you still have to get used to it, but you're going to be able to get a second. You can start thinking about who that will be.<br/>
<br/>
Do you know who yours will be?</i> you asked.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Not yet, but our, uh, first set of betas will still be around to help the, uh, beta you in the, uh, project. But mostly it's going to have to be you and your betas working on it. We're going find another project to use our second betas on.<br/>
<br/>
Like taking our clothes off,</i> Carlos chortled, <i>and—</i><br/>
<br/>
So that school project—the Make Will Popular project—is in your hands now. That's okay. Andrea can help now.<br/>
<br/>
Can't she? That's why you picked her.<br/>
<br/>
You shut your eyes and stroke yourself a little harder. Things are warming and loosening down there.<br/>
<br/>
She's got a lot of friends, but they don't overlap with you and your friends much. And though she cuts a very visible figure at school, it's not a figure that pulls a gaggle of people in her wake.<br/>
<br/>
Mostly (you see now that you've got an inside view) she acts as a <i>hostess.</i><br/>
<br/>
You can't place exactly when and how it happened—because Andrea can't. Maybe it started picking up during her sophomore year. It seems like maybe that's when the house started filling up most days after school with friends and acquaintances. Some of them, like Jelena Petrovic and Sienna Goldman, started hanging out because they had homes they wanted to stay away from. Others, you suppose, hung out because Jelena and Sienna hung out.<br/>
<br/>
And Andrea's place is a convenient hang out. Her mom works at Ristorante Locarno, the toniest eatery in Saratoga Falls, as a waitress and manager. It's long hours—though with fantastic pay—and it keeps her out of the house all afternoon and most of the evenings until late, six days a week. With no father or siblings around, it means Andrea has the place to herself and to anyone she lets in.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Lets in.</i> Yes, that's probably the best way of putting it. Andrea never invites anyone over, she just <i>lets in</i> most anyone who shows up. Invitations, when they're made, are usually made by Charles Hartlein.<br/>
<br/>
Your face doesn't twitch a muscle, but inwardly you grimace. Charles Hartlein— president of the drama club; out and proudly gay—probably thinks of himself as Andrea's closest friend. He certainly acts like it, confiding everything in her and dropping asides that make it sound like she confides everything in him. He's always dropping by, letting himself in without knocking, and shooting off texts to let people know that her house is open and expecting company. With him comes his other gay and bi- friends, like Christian Padilla and Adrian Semple. Andrea doesn't mind. But between Charles and his gang, and Jelena and her punk-themed musician friends, Andrea's scene is a very hip and bohemian one.<br/>
<br/>
And this is the scene you want to insert yourself into, not only as Andrea (which is easy enough; you're in it already, inside her skin) but as yourself? It's not your kind of thing. Even with a makeover, could you really fit in?<br/>
<br/>
You try to think of what Andrea knows about you, or what she's heard, particularly since Keith and Philip and them took you in hand. Nothing comes. You can't even recall Charles saying anything, and Charles has something to say about nearly <i>everything.</i><br/>
<br/>
Maybe you didn't make as much of a splash as you thought you had.<br/>
<br/>
You take a deep breath and sigh into the darkness. Even with both hands down your front, kneading and pressing and probing, you can't get stimulated, maybe on account of thinking about yourself and your situation and how you're going to use it to advance yourself socially. (It's not a sexy subject.) For a fleeting moment or two you even give some thought to ignoring your beta, leaving him where he is, and on just being Andrea. It would certainly be less work. There's hardly any work at all when it comes to being Andrea, except for swimming, which isn't work at all for her.<br/>
<br/>
It's morning when next you're aware of anything. The alarm on your phone is chiming softly.</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321221111212
author_id: seuzz
title: Bodies in Motion
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You feel hot and grimy as you surface from sleep, and your pajamas and the sheets are twisted up all about you. An acrid haze, like smoke, seems to hang between your brain and your eyeballs, and if you didn't feel unclean all over and in need of a restoring swim and shower you'd bury the chiming phone under the pillow and go back to sleep.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, like a good girl you stumble out of bed and across the hall into the bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
Not until you've splashed some cold water on your face and raised up to look at yourself in the mirror do you remember who you really are and what you're doing here.<br/>
<br/>
Water droplets congeal on the tip of your nose as you stare into your new face.<br/>
<br/>
It's still brown from the summer, though the tan is beginning to lighten beneath. A few tiny red spots show where Andrea hasn't scrubbed her pores as deeply as she should have. At this very close range you can see the tiny freckles at the top of her cheeks, and the white streaks of faint chapping on her lips. Hers isn't a coddled face, a pampered face. It's a face that has been turned into harsh winds and harsher waters, and has seen more sun than is probably good for it. The bones beneath give it a severe cast, and as you scrutinize yourself your already hooded gaze grows more hooded still.<br/>
<br/>
In one smooth motion you pull off the pajama top, then peel off the bottoms and everything else between your skin and the world. Your breasts fall out. They're on the small side, and pointed like pears. <i>Banana breasts</i> was the cruel jeer hurled at Andrea in middle school gym class, when they were just coming in and looked like they were going to turn out funny. The tips are nubby, like fingertips. But on the whole they're not badly shaped, and when covered with a shirt they have enough heft to give her a pleasing bust.<br/>
<br/>
Below that, though, all is perfection.<br/>
<br/>
Her stomach curves inward, and the skin and muscles are firm and taut, like she's been sanded down and polished from gleaming wood by a skilled hand. Her hips splay out like a narrow bowl, and her buttocks are like loaves of bread. The legs below are slim but strong, and taper down to long but graceful feet.<br/>
<br/>
You pull the thick brunette hair back behind your shoulder, stand away from the mirror, and drink yourself in.<br/>
<br/>
My God. No wonder Andrea can't walk through the hallways at school without guys swiveling like tops to follow her progress.<br/>
<br/>
You step into the bathtub only long enough to wash the heat of the night off your body with a spray of cold water, then wrap yourself in a towel. So arrayed, you step into the kitchen to start some coffee before retreating into the bedroom. You're still wet, but that's okay, because it's the black Lycra swimsuit that you pull on, grunting just a little with pleasure as it clasps itself tightly to your body. Over that you pull some vermillion shorts and a thin, off-white blouse that you leave untucked and unbuttoned. You pack fresh clothes, books, and homework into your gym bag, and set them by the front door. In the kitchen you pour yourself the coffee and set up a new filter of fresh grounds, then put on the timer so it will begin to brew at eight-thirty, when Andrea's mom usually wakes up. You make a breakfast of peach granola and oats with soy milk.<br/>
<br/>
<i>This would be really disgusting if it was still me eating it,</i> you think as you gobble it down. But with Andrea's palate, it's delicious.<br/>
<br/>
You wash out the bowl and coffee cup, set them in the rack to dry, and leave for school. It's a little after seven-thirty.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The cold water pours over your limbs as you slice through the pool; your legs thrash the water behind into a froth. The side of the pool looms suddenly before you, so you dive and curl, touch the wall with your feet, push off, and with strong, regular strokes pull yourself back the way you came. Your breath comes in quick gulps each time you breach the surface.<br/>
<br/>
You've done twenty laps and are turning for the twenty-first when from the corner of your eye you glimpse a figure looming at the side of pool. You pull up short and bob to the surface.<br/>
<br/>
It's Coach Acuna, in a gray t-shirt and turquoise shorts. She smiles as you paddle over and grab the side of the pool. "You're here early," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought I was on time," you gravely inform her.<br/>
<br/>
She only smiles at that—"on time" for Andrea is early for everyone else, and you still have the pool to yourself—and starts to outline the morning's practice plan.<br/>
<br/>
Coach Acuna runs the class, but she delegates a lot of the responsibility onto Andrea, and they frequently take turns with one managing the senior and junior members while the other manages the sophomores and freshmen. Today she wants you to do some teambuilding exercises with the underclassmen so that she can drill the upperclassmen.<br/>
<br/>
Inwardly, you cuss to yourself while keeping your expression neutral. Andrea doesn't much like the underclassmen, maybe because she has the impression that they don't much like her.<br/>
<br/>
So a little later, when you gesture the just-arrived Madison Crawford and Heaven Granberry over, they ignore you and continue giggling over—<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God. They're talking about Matthew Adams. Again.</i><br/>
<br/>
"He was at my place until ten-thirty," Madison says. Her tone is very smug. "My mom basically had to throw him out. She was all, like, Matthew, do you need someone to come pick you up or take you home?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God," Heaven giggles. "Like you have a curfew or something when you're at home."<br/>
<br/>
"It was probably for the best. He was wearing his <i>ripped</i> jeans."<br/>
<br/>
Heaven giggles again. "You told me."<br/>
<br/>
"And we were on the swing set together. So we were, like—" Madison waggles her index finger. "Wiggle wiggle."<br/>
<br/>
Heaven shrieks and clutches her friend. <br/>
<br/>
Matthew, when he comes in a few minutes later, plays it very cool with them, but his face is shining brightly. He says a few words to Madison and Heaven, then falls in with Lucas Bell and Juan Drake while waiting for the rest of the class to show up.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea doesn't pay a lot of attention to Matthew and Madison and Heaven and them. But she knows that Matthew is one of the "popular" boys in the sophomore class. He frosts his close-cropped hair and wears an earring, and he has a trick of looking up at girls from under his long eyelashes and blinking slowly at them. And Andrea has heard plenty of stories from and through Madison and Heaven—and Abigail Phillips and Allison Day—of Matthew's skill at getting close enough to girls at parties to feel them up all over.<br/>
<br/>
So you watch him today in and around the pool to see how a "popular" kid—or this one, at least—projects himself.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Drea," Charles Hartlein groans as he falls against the locker next to yours. It's just before fourth period. "Switch classes with me."<br/>
<br/>
Your lips twitch as you turn to study him, but you only listen as he starts prattling about how <i>awful</i> his third-period acting class was today, and how rehearsals for the upcoming school play are the <i>despair</i> of his existence, and how he saw on social media that his friend Terrence, who he made a real connection with at drama camp last summer, will be directing a spring-semester performance of <i>Rent</i> at his school in Vermont. "<i>Rent</i>!" he groans. "And we're stuck doing <i>Scrooge</i> this Christmas!"<br/>
<br/>
"Poor Charles," you coo at him.<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a sulky look. "I'll be at your place after school, to weep into your neck."<br/>
<br/>
Of course he will. You smile at him again, then slip into the crowd to make your way to English.<br/>
<br/>
The one class that Andrea and Will Prescott share.<br/>
<br/>
He tenses a little when you enter the room, but he doesn't turn to watch you. But Caleb, who is sitting next to him, does.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Good,</i> you think. <i>That'll make it more fun.</i> The expression drains from Caleb's face as you pad over to where he and Will are sitting.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," you address your replacement, and your voice is hardly more than a whisper.<br/>
<br/>
He straightens up and says, "Nngh?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm having some friends over at my place after school. You can come out if you want," you inform him.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll text you about it later."<br/>
<br/>
His nostrils flare. "Cool."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's mouth is hanging open as you turn away.<br/>
<br/>
You also feel the eyes of Carlos Montoya and Michael Hollister—well, their betas, which are in English class too—on you as you pad over to your desk, but Andrea always senses them watching her, so you pay them no mind. As you settle back to wait for class to start, you anticipate the afternoon to come.<br/>
<br/>
You've only had a few days since Saturday to make a splash on the social scene, and you shouldn't be offended that, so far as Andrea was aware, you still don't exist. So if Will Prescott shows up at her house after school, it's not going to make a splash all by itself—he'll just be another guy.<br/>
<br/>
But at least it will be a start, an introduction to that subset of the senior class.<br/>
<br/>
Yet you wish there were a way to <i>make</i> it a splash, some way to let Andrea's friends know that <i>Will Prescott</i> is someone who demands attention; for as you run down the list of people who like to hang out at Andrea's, none of them (it strikes you) are the sort to be impressed with some random guy just because he happens to be trending on social media.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe it's the way your bare legs rub against each other when you cross them that gives you the idea for making just such a splash.<br/>
<br/>
What if Andrea's friends caught her and Will emerging from her bedroom while pulling their clothes back on?</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213212211112121
author_id: seuzz
title: The Bedroom Play
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Hey," you say to the skinny blonde kid when you open the front door to him. "Thanks for coming over."<br/>
<br/>
Will Prescott gives you a tight, nervous smile as he steps into the house. "They told me you might have some, uh, orders for me."<br/>
<br/>
"They? Who's they?"<br/>
<br/>
"Keith and them." He hunches. "The, uh, the fake Keith and the fake ... other guys." The wind seems to die in his throat. "Fake like me."<br/>
<br/>
You look him up and down. He doesn't look bad, though Andrea doesn't go out of her way to score and rank guys on their looks. But the jeans and suspenders and hat give him a confident and slightly rakish air without overdoing it, and the lack of stubby whiskers makes him look both younger and more mature. You find yourself wishing you'd had the insight and the courage to clean yourself up earlier, and without the help of your friends.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't call yourself a fake," you chide him. "Don't run yourself down. Have fun with it. You're having fun, aren't you? Getting attention, like from—" You brush his shoulder with a fingertip. "In Mrs. Gladstone's class. What did Caleb say? After I invited you out?"<br/>
<br/>
Your beta rolls his eyes. "He said if I didn't come out I was an idiot, and I'd be an even bigger idiot if I did come out."<br/>
<br/>
"Some friend."<br/>
<br/>
"Is there a plan here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't whine. There's a plan. You just have to go along with it, and play it cool. I'll do all the work."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Mm-hmm. Well, Charles is going to do all the work, but I'll give it to him."<br/>
<br/>
"What work?"<br/>
<br/>
You settle your elbows on his shoulders and wrap your arms lightly around his neck. You are almost as tall as him, so it's no strain to pull your face close to his.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry," you breathe into his face. "You'll love it."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your original plan was muss-free. It was to hide in the bedroom with your beta, behind a closed door, until Charles arrived; then you'd emerge to surprise him. <br/>
<br/>
But once you and him were stretched out on the bed, propped on your elbows and looking each other in the face, it seemed a better idea to at least take your clothes off, so that you wouldn't be able to emerge too soon, and so that you'd look plausibly disordered when you did so. You might even be pulling on clothes as you emerged, to help the illusion.<br/>
<br/>
But then, once you'd wriggled out of your clothes and he had his shirt and boots off, your beta couldn't help looking up and down your naked form, and you indulgently told him that he could touch you: "You'd like that, right?" He nodded and started to stroke your arm and the sides of your boobs, and you wriggled deeper into the bed and smiled at him as he caressed you up from the back of your jaw down to your bellybutton. Your body warmed much more quickly under the quick, unpredictable strokes of his fingers than it had last night, when you tried stroking yourself.<br/>
<br/>
"Down there," you told him, and seized and guided his hand down to your bush. "Go on, it won't bite," you assured him when he blushed. He slipped his fingers in and felt at your bush and at the slit hidden within it. "You can go farther than that," you gurgled as you spread your legs.<br/>
<br/>
He took the invitation farther than you intended, and it was a wonderful surprise when he threw himself over you, put his knee between your thighs, and put his face in your neck.<br/>
<br/>
You grasped him by the belt and tugged at his jeans. As his hot skin and hot breath slid over you, you gave up to curiosity and temptation, and unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down. A fleshy shaft popped out of the front of his boxers and touched you with its burning tip.<br/>
<br/>
<i>I'm going to fuck myself,</i> you told yourself, and could hardly believe the thought even as you repeated to yourself. <i>I'm going to fuck myself. I'm going to let </i>me<i>—it is me, it looks like me, it smells like me, it acts like me, it knows me, and I can be it again if I want to— I'm going to let </i>me<i> fuck </i>me.<i> I'm going to know what it is like for the girl when I fuck her.</i><br/>
<br/>
The thought frightened you and abashed you, but you let the moment overwhelm you, like the breaking surf, and drag you under with quickening breath and blood. You clasped him about his narrow shoulders and held on as he kicked his jeans off, and you steadied him as he balance himself with one hand and with the other guided his cock—<i>my cock,</i> you reminded yourself in a dazed, wondering way—into you. You rose to meet him, accept him, and draw him deeper in.<br/>
<br/>
He came before you did, and your eyes were clenched shut as he cracked you open and spent himself in the deep crevices. But then you came under him when you opened your eyes and saw him staring into you with feverish eyes set in a burning face. He remained atop as you tried to pull him down, sagging on his elbows with his face in the pillow beside your head as you twisted your legs about his hips and tried pushing him deeper into you. When you sank at last back into the mattress, he followed. His skin burned all over inside your embrace.<br/>
<br/>
You were still clasping each other in this way when there was a sharp rap at the outside door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your heart nearly rockets out of your chest. "Oh, Jesus."<br/>
<br/>
Will raises his head. "Who's that?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's Charles. Oh, Jesus."<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Charles?</i> Here?" He gulps. "What do we do?"<br/>
<br/>
So lost are you in the post-coital that it takes you several long and arduous seconds to remember the plan. Even then, your breath comes in quick spasms.<br/>
<br/>
"It's okay," you gulp, "it's part of the plan. It <i>is</i> the plan. We— We wait for him to come in, like we're hoping he thinks there's no one home. Then we come out to see him."<br/>
<br/>
"What if he doesn't? Come in, I mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Christ, he never doesn't come in."<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't the door locked?"<br/>
<br/>
"No." <br/>
<br/>
But actually you're not sure it isn't, not until you hear the scratch and creak from the outer room. "Drea?" Charles calls out in a drawl muffled by the walls.<br/>
<br/>
"Now we hold very still," you whisper in your beta's ear, "like we're hoping he comes in and looks around and leaves." "Drea?" Charles calls again, and his footsteps sound on the wooden floors outside. He walks into the hallway and stands before the bedroom door, which sends your heart racing, then walks away again. "He's going into the kitchen," you whisper to your beta. "He's going to look for me in the back yard, in the garden."<br/>
<br/>
"What if he leaves?" your beta asks. "Do we do it again?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be greedy. And you can get off now." You push, and he rolls off. The bedsprings squeak. "Quiet."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't we want him to hear us?"<br/>
<br/>
"We don't want to be gross about it. We have to play it like—"<br/>
<br/>
The back door bangs shut, and Charles's footfalls sound again inside the house.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm going out there," you whisper to your beta as you sit up. "After I'm out the door, count to, um, thirty. Then get up, get dressed, and follow me out too. Play it totally cool," you murmur as you fish your clothes from off the floor. "You've got nothing to be embarrassed about. I invited you over, we fucked, it's none of Charles's business. Remember that. And ignore him. Just talk to him to be polite."<br/>
<br/>
"No problem doing that," he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"Then just hang loose. You've more business being over here than he does. I invited you over, I didn't invite him. But then we'll get some people to come out. It'll be like you came over to hang out, but just got here early. If anyone asks, that's what we tell them."<br/>
<br/>
"But won't Charles tell them—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, and that's what I'm counting on. But don't worry. Just play it all cool."<br/>
<br/>
"Gotcha."<br/>
<br/>
You look up as you tuck yourself into your bra. The worry is draining from his face, leaving a confident calm. You wonder at that as you pick up your t-shirt. <i>I can order him to do things. Can I also order him to be a certain way? To have a certain personality?</i><br/>
<br/>
Music starts to play on the living room stereo as you snap a pair of shorts on. You motion your beta to be quiet as you open bedroom door.<br/>
<br/>
Charles looks up from the futon as you walk into the living room. "There you are," he drawls. "Did I wake you up or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"Something."<br/>
<br/>
"I told you I was coming over," he calls after as you duck into the bathroom. "I'm looking for sympathy, Drea," he shouts as you close the door. "You don't have to say anything, I just want you to be here for me!"<br/>
<br/>
You drench some toilet paper in water and wipe yourself out inside your shorts and panties, then rub yourself dry with a washcloth. You finish up quickly, for you want to be there to see Charles's face when—<br/>
<br/>
The bedroom door opens, and your beta comes out. He's in jeans, socks, and t-shirt when he emerges; the suspenders hang down past his knees, and he's carrying boots, hat, and denim shirt.<br/>
<br/>
Charles does a double-take at him, then adds a triple-take when he sees how he's (un)dressed. Or maybe it's on account of recognizing who it is.<br/>
<br/>
"You want something to drink?" you ask Will.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh— Water, I guess?"<br/>
<br/>
"You can have a beer." You step back into the kitchen without offering Charles anything.<br/>
<br/>
Will is sitting at your mom's computer desk, tying his hiking boots, when you reenter the living room. Charles is staring at him with his jaw hanging open.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132122111121211
author_id: seuzz
title: The Party Scene
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I need to clean up the garden a little," you inform your visitors. To Charles: "Were you going to text people?" He stares at you, but you don't repeat the question. Instead, as you turn to leave, brushing Will's shoulder again with a fingertip as you go.<br/>
<br/>
You hope your beta is smart enough to understand the signal to follow you.<br/>
<br/>
He is, though you're already picking your way through the vegetable garden before he appears. It's a small garden, but it takes up most of the tiny back yard, between the back door, a work shed, and a wooden fence. Will teeters on its borer while you on bare feet work your way down the rows, pulling at the few stray weeds that have popped up since Andrea last worked it.<br/>
<br/>
"Is Charles texting people?" you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. I guess so, he's on his phone."<br/>
<br/>
"Did he say anything to you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. He didn't even look at me."<br/>
<br/>
"He's in shock. He's probably still trying to decide whether he actually saw what he thinks he saw."<br/>
<br/>
Will kicks at the dirt. "Um, what was that he saw, exactly?"<br/>
<br/>
"What was what?"<br/>
<br/>
"What we did. In your bedroom. Andrea's bedroom." He reddens.<br/>
<br/>
You smile. "What did it feel like we did?"<br/>
<br/>
He rolls his eyes. "I <i>mean—</i> Well, what did it <i>mean?</i> Why did we—? Were you just—?" His Adam's apple wobbles.<br/>
<br/>
"Was I just what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, fuck you, man."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, that's what we did."<br/>
<br/>
But he doesn't laugh at the joke.<br/>
<br/>
"It was for Charles's benefit," you explain. "A little scandal, something to give him to tell people. Something for them to chew on. Andrea slept with <i>you,</i> Will Prescott. That'll make them interested in <i>you.</i> Hopefully, it'll give you a lot of credibility with them."<br/>
<br/>
His eyes blaze with excitement.<br/>
<br/>
Then they dim as he realizes the implication: Giving him "credibility" was the only reason you let him fuck you.<br/>
<br/>
"Just keep playing it cool," you tell him. "You know, casual. We're going to have eight or twelve or ... I don't know, fifteen people over here pretty soon. Lot of girls. Pay attention to them. Talk to them. <i>Listen</i> to them. Pay attention to them and ask questions. But not, you know, in a desperate or creepy—"<br/>
<br/>
The back door opens, and Charles steps out. He squints at you, but stays out of the back yard.<br/>
<br/>
You straighten up and press the plucked weeds into Will's hands. "Go put this in the compost pile over by the shed. Stay back here and look around while I go see what Charles wants. You're awfully sweet," you add as you squeeze his hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Drea, how many people do you want?" Charles calls out as you approach.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. How many people do you want?"<br/>
<br/>
He rolls his eyes. "I get the impression you'd rather not have <i>anyone</i> over."<br/>
<br/>
"Really? What gives you that impression?"<br/>
<br/>
He snorts, and drops his voice to a murmur. "The hell, Drea?"<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
"You tell me. I'm baffled." He turns and goes back in the house.<br/>
<br/>
"Charles has decided to be dramatic," you inform Will when you join him by the shed.<br/>
<br/>
"What does that mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"It means you should ignore him even harder, especially if you catch him staring at you. Here's how to play it." <br/>
<br/>
But then you pause, struck by how funny is it that you're giving your beta—an actor playing you—something like stage directions and motivation—in a performance staged for the president of the school drama club. <br/>
<br/>
"I was curious about you, that's all," you tell your beta. "I wondered what it would be like to go to bed with you. You got my attention with your—" You give him a quick, appreciative look up and down. "Your new look. It got me curious, and then I wanted to know what it would be like to go to bed with you. What you'd be like in bed, and what you'd be like after."<br/>
<br/>
A shiver runs through you. The words are welling out of you in a very natural way, rising from someplace deep inside. Is it <i>you</i> who are curious about how Will Prescott would do in bed, and how he'd do afterward? Or is it Andrea? What you did this afternoon ... Would <i>she</i> have done the same thing herself, if you hadn't interfered with her?<br/>
<br/>
"That's why I asked you out here," you stammer, "and after we did it— Well, I told you that's why I did it. I was curious," you repeat. "So you're not going to try hanging onto me. You know you were just giving me satisfaction." You like the sound of the phrase, so you repeat it for emphasis. "You were just giving me satisfaction. And you did." You squeeze his hand.<br/>
<br/>
And he's enough of a goofball that he actually struts as he accompanies you back into the house.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Charles has decided to make it one of the smaller parties, but he must have lit a fire under the people he texted, for they're not slow in arriving, and only thirty minutes later your living room is crowded with people. He has also, for reasons you can only speculate on, leaned on his gay and bi- friends to come out for it: Christian Padilla, Alexander Peloquin, Crispin Fontana, Adrian Semple and Tim Gerard. Even Jelena Petrovic, though female, counts as gay.<br/>
<br/>
And the only other girls there are the ones he had to invite or else it would look weird: Fatima Zahedi and Sienna Goldman and Nancy Trent. The only other guy there besides Will is Nancy's boyfriend, Lyle Offerman, a hipster-dude college student. You affect not to notice the narrow-eyed stare that Charles alternately fastens on you and on Will throughout the evening.<br/>
<br/>
If you're not especially proud or impressed with the way Will acts with the others, you are at least pleased. He is coolly friendly with the guys, and if he's warmer with the girls he doesn't make a big show of it. He's got one advantage, at least: Fatima and Sienna are more interested in him than they are in the other guys—maybe because he's fresh meat or maybe because they guess he isn't gay—and he doesn't have to impose himself on them, but lets them drift in and out of his company as the party wears on. Sienna in particular seems intent on him. No surprise there: Sienna likes guys, and she isn't shy about latching onto them. She pushes Will into a corner a couple of times during the evening, and scrunches up close to him. But she doesn't lay hands on him—it's not that kind of a party—and he keeps his own hands to himself.<br/>
<br/>
Later, when you find yourself in the kitchen alone with Fatima, you ask her, "What do you think of Will?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's nice," she says. "He doesn't talk a lot."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe because he's too busy listening to you."<br/>
<br/>
She makes a face. "You think I'm talking too much?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not paying attention. I just notice him listening to you every time I look over."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean you catch me talking every time you look over."<br/>
<br/>
You glance around the corner into the living room. Will is sitting on the floor next to Tim, and the two of them are watching something on the phone that Adrian is holding up to show them.<br/>
<br/>
"Ask him to go for a walk," you urge her. "Around the block. Maybe he's just shy about talking in front of other people. Maybe he's a one-on-one kind of guy."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not trying to set us up, are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. Just trying to get him to mix."<br/>
<br/>
"Where did you—?"<br/>
<br/>
But she's interrupted by Sienna, who comes barreling in. "What kind of a sick-ass—" Then she breaks off to give Fatima a sour look. "Sorry."<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing."<br/>
<br/>
Fatima says, "I'll go mix," and slides out past Sienna—<br/>
<br/>
—who doesn't wait until she's out of earshot to hiss at you: "Why is it so <i>gay</i> in there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Take it up with Charles."<br/>
<br/>
"I'd like to. It's not a Friday night, but <i>Jesus,</i> Andrea. You need more of the right kind of guys out there."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think Will is gay."<br/>
<br/>
"Tell it to Tim and Adrian."<br/>
<br/>
"Poor Sienna," you cluck, and she bridles. "Are you feeling outcompeted?"<br/>
<br/>
She snarls. "Why did Charles ask him out if he isn't gay?"<br/>
<br/>
"You'll have to ask him," you repeat. "Maybe he was hoping." And with that sly insinuation you slide out after Fatima.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After that you start to watch Charles more closely, and you start to watch his friends for signs that he has told them of the afternoon's scandal. But if he does tell them, he has also told them to keep it close, for you can pick up no change in their vibe during the evening.<br/>
<br/>
It's nearing eight o'clock and the party is showing no sign of winding down when you get a text from Maria Vasquez, which you take into the bathroom to read: <i>Josiah wants to get together with you. Possible?</i><br/>
<br/>
It's a puzzling message, and not until your hand is on the doorknob does the explanation come crashing in on you.<br/>
<br/>
Josiah. Who is disguised as Chelsea Cooper.<br/>
<br/>
Who one night, when they were alone during her sophomore year, made out <i>hard</i> with Andrea Varnsworth.<br/>
<br/>
Which is who you now are.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321221111212112
author_id: seuzz
title: Unhappy Sequels
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Sorry busy here,</i> you text back to Maria. You almost add <i>Maybe tomorrow,</i> but you feel like you don't need any complications in your new life.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The low-key party continues until after eleven, which is when Will has to be home, but most everyone has drifted off by midnight. Charles is one of the first to go, though he is more often the last to leave, and he has nothing to say to you before going. You clean up what little mess they've left behind so that your mom—who comes dragging into the house while you're brushing your teeth—doesn't have to look at it. In bed, you text Will: <i>Did u like the party?</i><br/>
<br/>
Does a beta sleep? His reply is almost instantaneous: <i>yeh fatimas cute.</i><br/>
<br/>
You'd agree. She has lustrous, almond-shaped eyes and dark, cascading hair. <i>I think she liked u.<br/>
<br/>
are we going to date?</i><br/>
<br/>
For a moment you think he's asking if you and he will be dating, before deciding he must be talking about Fatima. <i>Dont know will think abt it. Was everyone else ok to u?<br/>
<br/>
think so r all anrea's friens gay?</i><br/>
<br/>
You can't help making a face. <i>Lots. Gnite talk to u tomorrow.</i><br/>
<br/>
So Will also noticed that Charles packed the house like that. As you turn onto your side, you wonder if that meant anything.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So, way to blow Chelsea off. Not smart, girl."<br/>
<br/>
You don't need to look around your locker door to see who is chiding you from the other side of it. Her snotty sing-song is a dead giveaway. So you finish loading up your books for second period before answering.<br/>
<br/>
"What's she going to do about it, Kendra?" you ask the horrible number-two girl on the cheerleading squad. "And am I supposed to be scared?"<br/>
<br/>
"You can be whatever you want, Andrea." She peer down her nose at you, her eyes glazed in a dead-eyed stare. "Everyone's going to know <i>what</i> you are, too."<br/>
<br/>
"What kind of a threat is that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not a threat. Just a prediction. Got a message for Chelsea?"<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"In that case she's got a message for you." She holds out a tightly folded note, and glares at you until you take it. "You can text her your answer. And you're gonna <i>have</i> an answer, girlfriend." She brushes against you hard as she slides back into the slipstream of students changing classes and changing books.<br/>
<br/>
<i>The fuck is going on?</i> you wonder as you force your own way through the crowd to History class. <i>That was Mike, wasn't it? What was he being so deep in character for? Did you piss the other guys off when you declined Josiah's message last night?</i> The answer still isn't clear even after you've settled at your desk and opened the note. <i>All hands meeting at studio 4 pm,</i> it says in a loopy, feminine scrawl.<br/>
<br/>
"What's that?" Jelena asks from the desk next to yours.<br/>
<br/>
"Just a note." You crumple it in your fist.<br/>
<br/>
"Who sends notes?" she snorts. "Who was it from, Tom Sawyer?"<br/>
<br/>
"What did you think of Will last night?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who? Oh. S'alright. What do you care?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think Fatima likes him."<br/>
<br/>
"Really? Huh. Is that why Charles had him out at your place?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. Do you see them together?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who, Fatima and whatsisname? Have they started going out?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I mean— Never mind."<br/>
<br/>
"Hmph." Jelena gives you a look before turning around to face the front of the class. "Yeah," she says, "it's a funny thing for you to be worried about, Andrea." Then she adds, "I'd'a figured Charles was trying to set him up with Alex or Crispin."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Speaking of Charles, by the end of school you're beginning to wonder why you haven't seen or heard from him. He hasn't sent you any texts, and he hasn't fallen across you path, either. When he doesn't show up at your locker after the final bell, you send him a text: <i>Running errands this afternoon.</i><br/>
<br/>
His reply doesn't come until you're walking to your car. <i>Y do I need to know?<br/>
<br/>
Because I wont be home tll later<br/>
<br/>
Y do I need to know</i><br/>
<br/>
You make a face but hurl your phone into the front seat next to you without sending another reply.<br/>
<br/>
You're early to the meeting, and you wait in the car nearly ten minutes before someone shows up. It's Carlos—the beta. "Hey," he grunts, and openly looks you up and down as he taps the door code in. "It's really Will, right? You having fun?"<br/>
<br/>
His tone is surly, and you stiffen under his gaze. "Sure."<br/>
<br/>
"Not too much fun, I hope," he says. "Not looking like that."<br/>
<br/>
He keeps giving you sidelong looks—hungry sidelong looks—all the way down the corridor to the studio, until you are totally creeped out. He lets you into the studio to wait while he goes into the workout room. You're giving some thought to returning to the car—you don't feel safe being alone with that thing—when you hear voices raised in argument. The words are gibberish, and it takes you a moment to recognize them as Spanish. All clarifies when Marcos—the real Carlos, under his new mask—swaggers in.<br/>
<br/>
"Ay, nice to see ya," he says as he perches on the desk. Like his beta, he looks you up and down. "Really nice to see ya," he adds as his eyes settle on your legs.<br/>
<br/>
"What's this meeting about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Pft, Philip. Peckerwood's got some idea we need a fuckin' <i>project</i> to keep us busy." He pulls his shirt off, showing off a taut, glossy torso with rippling abs. "This look like someone got trouble keeping busy? How 'bout you?" He leans across the desk. "We could keep busy together," he murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
"Not interested."<br/>
<br/>
He sucks a tooth, and is very slow about breaking off eye contact. "Yeah, okay," he says as he fluffs out his shirt. "I know what you look like under that thing anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"Have you tried that line on Kendra? About keeping busy together?"<br/>
<br/>
His glance is quick and sharp. The muscles in his cheeks tighten.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, okay, I wasn't serious," he mutters. "B'sides, I got enough action now." He studies his shirt, then pulls it back on.<br/>
<br/>
"So I don't understand," you say, and you say it with gentle indifference, for you want him to sense that you're not upset with him. "You were being Jessica before. Why switch to— Well, to a guy?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks like he's about to answer, but voices sound in the corridor, and he hops outside to meet them. It's four cheerleaders—Kendra, Maria, Cindy, and Chelsea—who come back into the studio with him.<br/>
<br/>
Your heart skips at the sight of Chelsea, and at the gleaming, smiling stare she settles on you. The memory of that evening two years comes back, when Andrea, alone with Chelsea, with almost infinite bravery kissed the little blonde goddess ... and the little blonde goddess kissed her back.<br/>
<br/>
But she says nothing now and only settles onto the floor with a private smile as Maria calls the meeting to order.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You were wondering why Philip hadn't found himself a new beta yet, and the explanation is that he wants there to be a <i>plan</i> for the new betas. (And, to your relief, it turns out that Mike was only playacting as Kendra when he made that very thuggish visit to your locker.)<br/>
<br/>
"Some of you already have new betas," Maria says in that very sober and very intense way that she's had ever since Philip moved in behind her face. "So do you have ideas about what we can do with them?" He grimaces when Marcos makes an obscene suggestion. "A legitimate experiment," she says. <br/>
<br/>
She might as well be a teacher and the studio might as well be a classroom, for all the cooperation she gets. Cindy suggests that, as they've succeeded in raising someone's reputation—yours—maybe they could try their hand at ruining someone's. "My boyfriend's a candidate," she snickers. Kendra suggests setting up some new romantic couples, maybe between (she clucks) "inappropriate people." "Or we could just screw around with the sophomores and freshmen," she adds, though she only shrugs when Maria asks her to expand on the idea.<br/>
<br/>
So the mood quickly turns grumpy and impatient, and it quickly ends. Maria falls in next to you as you walk out. "You haven't picked a second beta yet, Will," he says. "I wish you'd specially think about what you could do with it that might be interesting."<br/>
<br/>
You mutter something indistinct. She replies, "Josiah really wants to get together with you."<br/>
<br/>
"I know. I can guess what for."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not interested?"<br/>
<br/>
You smile tightly. "I'm thinking more about my secondary beta."<br/>
<br/>
Maria actually looks thunderstruck by that reply.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Charles doesn't come over until much later that evening, and he's in a snippy mood. Not until after he's criticized the music you're playing, the book you're reading, and the last movie you'll admit to having seen does he archly announce: "I've decided not to ruin your life."<br/>
<br/>
You raise an eyebrow. "Thanks. How were you going to do it?"<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a look. "That <i>guy</i> you had out here yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
"Adrian?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can never tell when you're trying to be funny but are just bellyflopping at it. I've decided I'm not going to tell anyone about how that guy was here early yesterday. You've been very coy about it, so I'll be coy too, and that's all I'm going to say." He turns away with his nose in the air.<br/>
<br/>
But the implication is clear: He won't stand for seeing Will Prescott hanging around you.</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321221112
author_id: rugal
title: The Connected
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Right now? As in right now? As in right this very instant now? You text back as much and the response is both expected and disconcerting.<br/>
<br/>
<i>yes. work to do. need time to do it.</i><br/>
<br/>
It's incredibly brusque though that's unsurprising. Given how much you were needling her you wonder if you've pissed Maria off. However you avoid actually asking her about it and think that it's better to give her time to cool off.<br/>
<br/>
They need an answer now? Well you'd narrowed it down to four and hadn't really had the chance to really weigh the pros and cons of each one. But there was one person that had taken a lead, even if it was a small one, as you were in the final stages of whittling down that list and now being put on the spot with no real time to think... well, there's nothing wrong with them you suppose. So you type in the girl's name and send it to Maria.<br/>
<br/>
<i>you sure?</i> she asks and your response is confirming that yes, this is who you want. <i>ok we'll get to work,</i> she says before following it up with another text. <i>meet us at top shelf around 10.</i><br/>
<br/>
That certainly confuses you. Ten o'clock on a school night? <i>y so late?</i> you ask.<br/>
<br/>
<i>have to set things up + other reasons</i>, comes the terse response. <i>is that too late?</i><br/>
<br/>
Ten will really be pushing it and though your curfew's at eleven you know that your dad will grumble and give you guff if you come rolling in after ten. But still, you think you can manage it so you text back an affirmative. <i>it'll be fine</i>, you send and that nets a confirmation from Maria.<br/>
<br/>
So ten o'clock out at a studio in a storage facility on the edge of town. Oh your parents would definitely have fits if they knew where you were going. But they won't, or they shouldn't. So the important question becomes less about how you're going to play off where you'd been and more about what you<br/>
re going to do in the intervening time?<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're not really sure what to do so you decide to hang around the school for a bit and thinking of some of the possibilities mentioned earlier the most mysterious to you, at least of the people that actually attend the school, is this Lynette Kolaya girl. You like how Fairfax had described her -- a piece who could get other pieces moving for you -- but you don't know a thing about her beyond that. You head over to the courts to check out the tennis team but it's as you're there that you realize just what not knowing anything means.<br/>
<br/>
You have no idea what she looks like.<br/>
<br/>
There's a few girls that you do know, mainly Brooke Galloway and Kelsey, but of the others you're not sure. Well no, you can be reasonably sure that she's probably not one of the two Indian girls you see, but there's still a few others -- two brunettes, a girl with long wavy blonde hair and another whose hair is thick with loose curls -- and you'd have no way of knowing who's who.<br/>
<br/>
At around that time you get a text from Caleb asking what you're doing and if you want to hang out. Considering this detour a bust you tell him that you're up for it and to meet you at the tennis courts. "Didn't know you were so interested," he says once he's made his way over.<br/>
<br/>
You simply grunt at that. "Someone mentioned Lynette Kolaya to me," you tell him, "saying, I don't know, that she might be interested in me after all that shit?" A lie of course but it's not like you can tell him the truth... much as you want to. "Figured I'd come here and get a look but I don't really know who she is. Or which one she is."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb points out the skinnier of the two brunettes. "I've got her in seventh, Hella smart, not the friendliest girl though," he tells you.<br/>
<br/>
"She's a bitch?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not like that," he shakes his head. "But she's friends with Brooke and I've been helping Brooke with math so I hear things. I guess she's had it tough, like she's had to work a lot harder than a lot of other people, so it's more like she comes off as not having a lot of time for people. That's how Brooke's said it anyway."<br/>
<br/>
That doesn't really seem like the type of person who'd have a lot of connections. Maybe Fairfax was wrong about her? "Sounds lonely," is all you can say.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe but I don't think she's lacking in friends or anything," he responds. "Like I know she's friends with Sophie."<br/>
<br/>
That causes you to shoot up. "Van den Berg?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"As in her pedigree's got a pedigree," Caleb says as he points out the other brunette.<br/>
<br/>
Well that changes the game completely doesn't it? Friends with an AP girl like Brooke, friends with someone like Sophie Van den Berg? But yet you wonder if that's something you'd want because the trade off for it is... Caleb said she's had it tough. But how tough is tough? Living in a trailer park tough? Abused by her parents tough? Strict family like your own dad tough (which is, admittedly, not all that tough)?<br/>
<br/>
But it does make you think as you head away from the courts with Caleb looking for some place to hang out that's not just his house. Someone you didn't even know existed until a few hours ago, someone seemingly insignificant has connections like that? In a way it makes you feel even smaller than you'd already felt. But at the same time there's something neat about it too you can't help but think.<br/>
<br/>
Being that insignificant yet that plugged in. Having useful connections like that. Someone like that can help your popularity but a thrilling, and scary, thought also occurs to you. Someone like that, someone positioned just right, could rule the school. The right person with the right connections, moving (to borrow Fairfax's imagery) all of the right levers.<br/>
<br/>
Last night, after you'd managed to bully Fairfax into letting you have your way but before you'd all separated you'd talked a bit about the masks, about this golem stuff that you can put in them. Fairfax had wondered what the limit was. There had to be, of course, because what was going to stop someone from taking over the school, or town or worse? A whole school, a whole town replaced by automatons forced to obey the will of one person. It was a chilling thought but one even more chilling comes to you.<br/>
<br/>
Who needs an army? A couple masks on all of the right people and you're good. Look what these guys managed to do for you with a few cheerleaders after all. Lynette knows one of the wealthiest people in town. She's on a team with the AP queen. With just three masks you'd have one of the most powerful, wealthiest cliques completely in your control and with them a good chunk of the school. A handful of masks is all it would take to run things.<br/>
<br/>
Someone like Jenny would be in an even better position. If it was only you who knew about the book, if you switched with Jenny... a mask on Yumi gets you a mask on Chelsea. Who'd suspect Jenny of being the real brains behind the cheerleaders; behind the school? Hell, who'd suspect Cassie?<br/>
<br/>
You suppose, then, that it's good the book fell into the hands of guys like Carlos and Phillip who seem to be a little more grounded. If you're having thoughts like this, imagine what would happen if it fell into the hands of someone like Chelsea or Patterson? That's a truly frightening thought and it's one that occupies you for most of the rest of the evening.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Ten 'till ten.<br/>
<br/>
You park your truck in the parking lot of Top S(h)elf Storage inbetween two unfamiliar ones. A guy, hispanic and handsome but also unfamiliar, stands near one of them and raises a hand as you open your door. "Glad you made it," he calls out.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, sorry I'm a little early," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry," he says as he walks up and claps you on the back before starting to walk you to the entrance of the units. "She got here right before you did. We were going to get the masks of you guys at the same time so there's no real issues." He says this as he pulls out his phone. "Just gotta let them know you're here so we can started."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, so you're friends with them?"<br/>
<br/>
The guy looks at you with a grin as he opens the door. "Sure," he says before quickly adding, "seeing as I'm Carlos." He laughs a bit when he notices your double take. "Yeah, since everything was fine with Seth, Phillip said it was fine if we all get a second beta. Mike's out getting his, I got Marcos here yesterday after we left. You'll probably want to give a bit of thought to your second as well. Once you're settled in with your first of course. No rush."<br/>
<br/>
So you've gone from no betas to soon having two? But Carlos is right, you'll have to get used to having a first one before you even think of seconds. A shiver of excitement runs through you as you get closer to the dual unit that houses the studio. It won't be long now until you have that first beta...</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213212211121
author_id: seuzz
title: The Tomboy
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You had texted ahead on leaving Starbucks, to say you were on your way, so you're not surprised that Jessica Garner is waiting just inside the climate-controlled unit to meet you. She pats the handlebar of the four-wheeled dolly at her elbow. "Have a seat," she says.<br/>
<br/>
You eye her and it warily. "What for?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ride in comfort, man."<br/>
<br/>
You hesitate, then drop cross-legged onto the platform. You're just looking up to ask what the deal is when she leans over you with something blue in her hand. You just have time to feel something cold and smooth being pressed onto your face before the world goes dark.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Voices are sounding, but you can't make out the words, even after you sit up onto your elbow with a wince. You look around. You're still on the dolly, which is resting now halfway down the hall of the climate unit. One of the bays is open, and it's from it that that the voices are coming. The dolly slides beneath you as you stagger to your feet and over to Carlos's studio.<br/>
<br/>
Four cheerleaders are perched on or behind the broad desk when you look in:  Jessica and Eva Garner, Cindy Vredenburg, and Maria Vasquez. "Will!" Eva squeals at you, and the other three turn to smile at you. "How was your nap?"<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck is going on?" You grind the heel of your hand into your temple, where a headache is fading. "What did you do to me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just getting you ready for your body swap," Jessica says. Her grin is very wide and wicked.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on," Cindy says before you can reply, and she takes your arm. "I'll show you." She leads you from the room.<br/>
<br/>
You kick at the dolly as you pass it. "The fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
"Carlos was just being cute." She lifts the rattling door of the next-door bay. "Forget about it."<br/>
<br/>
"But what did he do?"<br/>
<br/>
"He made a copy of you, Will. We told you we had to do that, right?"<br/>
<br/>
You want to ask why Carlos couldn't have warned you, or <i>asked</i> your permission, but you're too dumbstruck to speak.<br/>
<br/>
That's because Carlos's weight room is not unoccupied. Sitting on the bench, glaring at you, is a figure both familiar and alien.<br/>
<br/>
"Will Prescott," says Cindy, "say hello to Will Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," you whisper. It's you sitting on the weight bench—the same straw-colored hair, the same rabbitty eyes, the same fading summertime tan.<br/>
<br/>
Worst of all, he's totally naked. And he doesn't seem embarrassed about it. He's actually leaning back so that you and Cindy have a widescreen presentation of your crotch and junk.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it's kind of freaky the first time you see your own beta," Cindy says. She squeezes your arm. "Come on, give him your things so you can send it home."<br/>
<br/>
"What?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's gotta go home right?" Cindy gives you a look, and behind it you can almost just glimpse the face of your friend Keith. "Don't you have a dumbass curfew or something? Or was that just a lot of bullshit you used to get out of hanging out with me and Caleb?"<br/>
<br/>
You grimace back, but start to strip. <br/>
<br/>
"So how are you and Seth making out?" you ask as you pop off the suspenders and unbutton your jeans.<br/>
<br/>
"Tchsh. Something I'd talk about with Jenny. How about we wait until then."<br/>
<br/>
That's right. In the shock of seeing your beta you'd almost forgotten what you're really here for: to turn yourself into Jenny Ashton. <i>That's really Jenny over there,</i> you marvel silently as you eye your beta sidelong, <i>turned into a copy of me. No wonder she— he— it— looks pissed.</i><br/>
<br/>
"What made you pick Jenny?" Cindy asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh, I dunno."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, Will, you should have a reason. Not that I'm saying she's a bad choice, but c'mon, man. You could'a been—"<br/>
<br/>
"Look, did people argue with <i>you</i> when you said, <i>I want to be Cindy Vredenburg?"</i><br/>
<br/>
"Nope." She lifts her chin, and again Keith's stubborn dopiness bleeds through the mask and onto Cindy's face. "They were all, like, <i>I</i> wanna be Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, this way I get to be friends with Cindy at least," you retort. "And with Yumi and Lin and Jessica and Eva and— Fuck, just about anybody."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy frowns. "Yeah, okay, I can respec' that," she says. "And fuck, you can pro'ly get laid, too."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Jesus!</i> "I wasn't thinking about that," you mutter as you hurl your clothes at the beta, who catches them out of mid-air. "And Jenny doesn't <i>get</i> laid. I don't think."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm sure Mike and Carlos 'ud love to get it on with her. So, y'know, you just have to ask."<br/>
<br/>
So that's what he meant, not that you-as-Jenny could get a boy to fuck you. But you prefer to drop the subject, and instead ask what happened to them getting some second betas of their own.<br/>
<br/>
"We were gonna try for that tonight," Cindy says. "Mike wants Kendra, and Carlos wants some friend of Marc's. But it was easier to just get Jenny out here to watch a movie and, y'know, corner her. You know, like you pointed out, all us being friends an' all. Here, I'll go get'cher stuff." She hops from the room—<br/>
<br/>
—which leaves you alone with your beta, which is hurriedly dressing. You shiver as you watch from the corner of your eye, and it's not just from the climate-chilled air settling onto your naked, bony frame.<br/>
<br/>
At least your replacement looks better when dressed, and he looks better than you'd have credited yourself with looking. Rugged jeans, a rugged shirt, suspenders, hiking boots, an outdoorsy hat ... <i>Yeah, the clothes make a difference.</i><br/>
<br/>
"So," you say to it. "I guess you're supposed to go home and be me."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." Its tone is sullen, and with a jerk of its shoulders it sweeps up your cell phone—the last piece of the disguise. "I got ten minutes to beat the curfew," it says after checking the screen.<br/>
<br/>
"Then I guess you better go."<br/>
<br/>
It doesn't wait for you to repeat the order, but barrels past you to the door. But you shout "Hey!" and it stops in the doorway, only just missing knocking over Cindy, who has returned. "You know what to do, don't you?" you ask your beta.<br/>
<br/>
It rolls its eyes. "Yeah!"<br/>
<br/>
"It knows everything you know, Will," Cindy says. "It remembers everything right up until we made that mask of you."<br/>
<br/>
That doesn't make you feel any better, and your voice is a nervous croak when you say, "Okay, I guess you can go. Just don't get in any trouble."<br/>
<br/>
It mutters something, then dashes off. Cindy snickers. "What?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't hear him? He said, 'Like <i>you're</i> not getting into any trouble'. Here." She thrusts a pile of clothes at you. There's a mask balanced atop them.<br/>
<br/>
"Can we really trust those things?"<br/>
<br/>
"They do what we tell them, Will."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, all I know is, the thing you made that's supposed to be you really does act like you, except with a shittier attitude."<br/>
<br/>
"That's what makes it perfect."<br/>
<br/>
You'd argue, but it seems wiser to drop the subject.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It was chilly when you lay back on the workout bench and dropped Jenny's mask onto your face, and it's chilly when you wake. For a long moment you stare at the ceiling, thinking, <i>Where am I?</i><br/>
<br/>
Then you remember the storage unit, and the workout bench, and the mask, and Carlos and Cindy and Keith and Eva and Jessica ...<br/>
<br/>
You bolt upright, giving you a head rush. You cover your face with your hands.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck. They weren't real, none of them were real, they weren't your real friends, they were all a bunch of fakes giggling at you behind your back, plotting to turn you into a fake and to give your face and body to—</i><br/>
<br/>
You freeze, and your joints creak as you slowly pull your hands down from your face. The long lock of brunette hair falls across your eye.<br/>
<br/>
You are Jenny Ashton. But you're also Will Prescott. For a fluttering moment, as quick and as soft as the single beat of a hummingbird's heart, you are unsure which of those identities to claim as your real one.<br/>
<br/>
But the answer falls on you with the force of a dropped anvil.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Mm.</i> You cup and squeeze Jenny's breast. They're small, but they're nice. You open your legs to peer at her bush—a dark, curly patch. You smile to yourself and hop lightly to your feet.<br/>
<br/>
Out of the corner of your eye you watch yourself in the full-length mirror that Carlos has propped against a wall, as you pick up and don your clothes: panties and bra; a short-sleeved denim top; blue jeans; ankle socks and ratty sneakers. A thin, aquamarine windbreaker. Last is the ball cap, sun-faded from blood-red to dark pink. You pull back your hair, grind the cap onto your head and settle it into place, then grin at yourself.<br/>
<br/>
The tomboyish Jenny Ashton grins back at you.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132122111211
author_id: seuzz
title: Happy Birthday to the New You
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Guys!"<br/>
<br/>
Neither turns. "Hey! <i>Guys!</i>" you yell again.<br/>
<br/>
But Carson Ioeger and James Lamont, their heads bowed, just stride across the student parking lot on loping legs toward the gym.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Bastards.</i> You throw yourself into a sprint to catch up; your backpack bounces off your shoulder blades. "Guys!" you pant as you skid up to them. "Didn't you hear me?"<br/>
<br/>
Carson glances over. "Oh, hey Ashton. Was that you barking like a seal back there?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't <i>bark!</i>" You punch him in the shoulder. "You should'a looked back at least when you heard me."<br/>
<br/>
"I look back for no man. Hot, sexy women, on the other hand—" Now he does glance back over his shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"Fine, I wanted to talk to James anyway." You duck around and fall in beside his best friend. Like Carson, James is tall and rail thin, as though he's been stretched on the rack. He's half a head taller than Will Prescott; now that you're Jenny Ashton, he's a full head taller than you. "Wha'd you guys do last night?"<br/>
<br/>
"Homework," says James. Carson says, "Masturbated furiously."<br/>
<br/>
"Gross. You seen Yumi around?"<br/>
<br/>
"We just got here, Ashton," says Carson. "Have you thought about putting a GPS tracker on your friends?"<br/>
<br/>
"Thought about putting one on <i>your</i> skinny ass, but I think it's too skinny to hold it."<br/>
<br/>
James guffaws. "Come with me to my locker," he says as he opens the school doors for you. To Carson: "Catch up in the library?"<br/>
<br/>
"I got better things to do than watch you two flirt." Carson takes off down another hallway.<br/>
<br/>
You cast a dirty glance at the back of his dirty t-shirt, then squint up at James. He returns you an enigmatic squint of his own.<br/>
<br/>
He has a huge crush on Jenny. Everyone knows it, including Jenny.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you need from your locker?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing. Not anything I need that bad. Come on." His hand hovers over your shoulder, but doesn't settle there.<br/>
<br/>
"What's your deal?" you ask as he turns toward the library. You follow. "You weren't trying to get rid of Carson, were you?" You glance backward, but Carson has vanished into the crowd.<br/>
<br/>
"So what if I was? We're not fucking Siamese twins, him and me. I mean—" A grin fights its way onto his face. "I mean it would be awesome if we were fucking a couple of Siamese twins—"<br/>
<br/>
"That's gross," you retort. "And gay."<br/>
<br/>
"How's it gay?"<br/>
<br/>
"You and your best friend having a three-way or something with—"<br/>
<br/>
"It would be a four-way," James corrects you. "Even if they're conjoined it would be two of them and two of us—"<br/>
<br/>
"A fucking orgy then. And if you want to do it with Ioeger, you don't need anyone else there too. You and him's what you want, right?" you prattle on in a breathless way, and even knowing that what you're saying is a lot of hurtful bullshit you can't help finishing up with, "And that's what makes it gay."<br/>
<br/>
James has stopped in front of the library door, and his expression is very tight. "I'm sorry," you tell him, and pluck at one of the belt-loops on his jeans. "You were just being gross and I was just trying to be gross back."<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever, Ashton," he mutters as he opens the library door for you. "I don't even remember what we were talking about."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, what did you want to talk to me about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who says I ever want to talk to you about anything?"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, if you don't want to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Siddown, Jenny." He shoves you down into a chair. "I wanted to talk to you about your birthday, alright?" Pink spots show in his cheeks as he hurls himself into the chair next to you. He folds his arms and glowers.<br/>
<br/>
<i>My birthday?</i> you almost squeak. <i>Fuck, that's right! Jenny Ashton has a birthday coming up in, like, a week or two. She'll be eighteen.</i> You suppress a shiver.<br/>
<br/>
James is still staring at you. His eyes are a soft brown, and you suppress another shiver to see the fear and tenderness in them.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, what about my birthday?" you ask when he doesn't say anything. You tense all over.<br/>
<br/>
He holds your eye, then shrugs. "What do you want to do for it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing. I mean, I assume my parents are going to take me out and—"<br/>
<br/>
"What about us? Your friends? You don't want <i>us</i> doing anything?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't <i>want</i>— I mean, I don't want anyone making any trouble or anything. You know, just on my account."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that what you told Yumi?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yumi?" You feel overwhelmed and baffled. "What has she—? I haven't even talked to her! Have you and her been—? Has anyone—?"<br/>
<br/>
James leans across the table to thrust his face into yours. "Have <i>you</i> talked to anyone about your birthday?" he demands.<br/>
<br/>
You cringe. "No."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay then. So now's the time to talk about it."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, <i>God,</i> James! I don't—"<br/>
<br/>
"We're going to take you out," he declares. Something curls about your foot, and you gasp and jump as you realize it's his foot. "Some of us. All of us." He tilts his chin. "When are you free, and where do you want us to take you?"<br/>
<br/>
Your breath is now coming in short gasps. "You don't have to— We can just go hang out someplace. Like a regular night, or something. I mean, if you really—"<br/>
<br/>
"Who do you want along?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know! Jeez, this is embarrassing!"<br/>
<br/>
"Names, Ashton."<br/>
<br/>
You glance around, looking everywhere but in James's face. The library is crowded with people waiting for first period to start, but your head is in too much of a whirl to recognize any of them, let alone put any names to them. You wish the floor would open up and swallow you.<br/>
<br/>
James kicks you under the table. "You," you blurt out. "You and Carson and Paul."<br/>
<br/>
"Just us? You want it stag, huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"And Yumi. And Lin. Cindy." Your brain is a whirl-a-gig, and the names come flying out unbidden.<br/>
<br/>
"Eva and Jessica?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure."<br/>
<br/>
"Who else?"<br/>
<br/>
"What-<i>ever!</i> Anyone who wants to go, I guess!" Your face is burning. "We're just going to go have a study group or something, right? I told you, I don't—"<br/>
<br/>
"Bullshit. I mean, if you want to pretend that's all we're going to do for you, fine. But—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, God, James." You bury your face in your hands. But behind your embarrassment is a deep happiness at having so many friends who can be counted on to turn out to wish you a happy birthday. Tears burn the back of your eyeballs, and you sniffle.<br/>
<br/>
A warm hand settles on your forearm. You peep out at James between your fingers. He's leaning forward with a look of concern.<br/>
<br/>
Impulsively, you cover his hand with one of yours and squeeze it. "I'm being a goose," you squeak. "This is really sweet and awesome of you, and you're embarrassing me—"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not trying to embarrass you."<br/>
<br/>
"I know. I just feel like I need you to know that, like— I'm not <i>asking</i> for anything!"<br/>
<br/>
"I know."<br/>
<br/>
"If you didn't do anything at all for me, if it really was just a regular day, and all of us—" You gulp back a sudden attack of the hiccups. "Or even just you and me and Carson and Paul— Or you and me and Yumi— I mean if it was just a regular day with you or anyone else, it would be—"<br/>
<br/>
You have to break off before you break down completely.<br/>
<br/>
James squeezes your hand, and pulls you closer.<br/>
<br/>
"That's why we want to do this for you," he says as he peers deeply into your eyes. His own are now wet. "Because you make the regular days so awesome."<br/>
<br/>
And then you do lose it, and have to bury your face in your elbow. James drapes a long arm across your shoulders, and settles his head by yours, and holds you in this way until you're the master or your emotions again.<br/>
<br/>
You recover yourself by the time bell has rung, but you duck into the girls' restroom long enough to wash the puffiness from your eyes. <br/>
<br/>
You can't help giving yourself a secret smile as you do so, for you've passed the day's first test.<br/>
<br/>
You have successfully fooled her best guy friend into believing that you are Jenny Ashton.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Not that you had any real doubt that you could. Last night the others had tried talking you into staying out late, saying that it would take time for Jenny's memories and personality traits to start coming, and that it would be best if you went home only when it was very late, so that you could go to bed without risking too much time with her family. "After a night's sleep," Philip assured you, "you'll be able to fool anyone."<br/>
<br/>
But it felt to you like you had her memories already. At least, you could picture her house and her family and her friends, and when you looked at the other girls in the storage bay, you felt snap judgments about each of them. Eva: <i>Sweet but a little too naive and trusting.</i> Jessica: <i>Smart, but a little too tactless and sharp-tongued.</i> Cindy: <i>Popular but feckless.</i> Maria: <i>God, what is that space cadet doing here with us?</i><br/>
<br/>
In fact, that feeling of Jenny's mind and personality mixed up with yours was so strong that it seriously weirded you out to look at the girls and know that they were all fakes, and it was really creepy whichever way you looked at them: <i>These aren't my friends, they're other people pretending to be my friends. But really these are my friends, only they're pretending to be people who really aren't my friends.</i><br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321221112111
author_id: seuzz
title: First Day Nerves
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Third period is Jenny's study hall, and she spends it every day in the library with Eva Garner.<br/>
<br/>
And appearances are preserved, for to anyone who is watching it would appear to be Eva Garner who smiles up brightly at Jenny Ashton when the latter hustles in through the library door.<br/>
<br/>
But there's a hard twinkle in your co-conspirator's eye, and your own eyes can't help going to her breasts, which seem even plumper than usual. God, it's as though Hollister is intentionally thrusting them at you.<br/>
<br/>
"So how are you doing today, Jenny?" Eva sing-songs as you dump yourself into the chair across from her.<br/>
<br/>
"God. Okay, I guess," you mutter. "Only James—"<br/>
<br/>
"Memories coming in okay?" She brushes a strand of hair from your face.<br/>
<br/>
You slap her away. "Yes, I'm fine, and <i>stop it!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Oooh! Touchy!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not touchy, God damn it, I'm— Where's Rachel? And Audrey?" You wheel around, eyes darting about the library.<br/>
<br/>
"They'll be along. What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing's wrong! Only, what if they come in right as you're asking me something like—" You glance around again, and drop your voice to a hiss. "Like if my memories are coming in okay?"<br/>
<br/>
Eva giggles. "Calm down, Will."<br/>
<br/>
"My name's Jenny!"<br/>
<br/>
"And my name's—" She glances up as the door opens behind you. "Hey!" You can't help flinching a little as Audrey Briscoe and Rachel Bell enter and slide into the two empty seats at the table.<br/>
<br/>
They're both tall, rangy girls with alert, clever eyes and straight, mouse-brown hair that drapes around their shoulders. Audrey is the more chipper of the pair, with a toothy smile and a mischievous light in her eyes; Rachel's Jewish genes show in her aquiline nose and coal-black eyes.<br/>
<br/>
Rachel speaks now as she settles in: "So did Spencer really steal Jordan's book review, or is he just covering for Jordan?" she asks you.<br/>
<br/>
"What?"<br/>
<br/>
"That whole argument last period," she reminds you, for you and she both just got out of AP Constitutional Law. "Jordan said Spencer stole his book review, so that's how come he couldn't turn it in."<br/>
<br/>
It was a scene you didn't pay much attention to, both guys being a couple of scruffy yahoos and all. "Sure, whatever," you snap back. "What are you asking me about for?"<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos Cody thinks it was all something they cooked up between them," Rachel says, "so Mr. Walberg would let Jordan turn it in late," Rachel says.<br/>
<br/>
(Yes, even as Jenny Ashton, you can't escape having a class with Mr. Walberg.)<br/>
<br/>
"What are you talking about?" Audrey asks.<br/>
<br/>
And Eva snickers. "Yeah," she says, "because Jenny has <i>no idea</i> what you're talking about." She hides a smile behind the back of her hand as you glare at her.<br/>
<br/>
"I do too! It was last period," you explain to Audrey. "We had book reviews due today, and Jordan— You know, Jordan Fry?" Audrey shrugs; no surprise, for Jordan is one of the school lowlifes, and how he got in an AP class you don't know. "He started whaling on Spencer Osbourne, 'cos he said Spencer snagged it off him at breakfast and— Oh, why am I explaining this?" you exclaim, for you are suddenly bored the drama that hadn't even interested you last period.<br/>
<br/>
"He said that Spencer stole it off him," Rachel says, taking up the tale, "and that's why he didn't have it to turn in even though it was due today. And Spencer backed him up on it—"<br/>
<br/>
"So that's totally what happened," you burst in despite yourself. "It's totally a Spencer thing to do." Spencer Osbourne is a minor bully and mischief-maker with the guys, and a leering perv with the girls.<br/>
<br/>
Eva stifles a giggle. "It's totally like you, Jenny, to say that." You kick her under the table.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," Rachel continues. "But Cody—"<br/>
<br/>
"Which Cody?" Audrey asks. "Cody Schaefer?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. He says—"<br/>
<br/>
"Ooof!" Audrey squirms and grins. "Are you still in that group project with him? When can the three of us get together? You and me and Cody?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like to do what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dur, what do you think?" you burst. "And she wants to do it without you along, Raytch."<br/>
<br/>
Now someone kicks <i>you</i> under the table. Eva says, "Jenny's such a troublemaker."<br/>
<br/>
An awkward silence settles over the table. You break it by blurting out, "Does anyone have plans for Friday? I mean, next Friday, week from this coming—? Or Saturday, the Saturday after?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," Rachel says. "Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, nothing." The burning embarrassment you felt with James returns. "Only some of my friends—some other friends—they were talking about doing something. A party. Thought maybe you guys would be interested."<br/>
<br/>
This awkward invitation is answered—without enthusiasm—with a "Sure, maybe" from Audrey and a "Yeah, okay" from Rachel. Eva says, "Who with?"<br/>
<br/>
"Carson and James. Paul, I guess. Yumi and Lin, when I see them. Cindy?" You poke her in the arm. "You and Jessica?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kendra?" she ripostes.<br/>
<br/>
"Yych!" You make a face. "I'm not friends with Kendra."<br/>
<br/>
"You could be." Eva's smirk deepens. "All it requires is for <i>someone</i> to make a special effort."<br/>
<br/>
On the other side of you, Audrey clucks her tongue, but Eva isn't done teasing you yet. "What about Keith Tilley?" she says with glinting eyes. "You know, if <i>Cindy's</i> going to this party, then <i>Keith</i> really ought to show up too. And there's no way you can't ask <i>Will</i> out too," she adds with the air of a pastry chef crowning a multi-tiered cake with a single, shimmering cherry.<br/>
<br/>
"Who are you talking about?" Rachel asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Eva," you start to warn her, but she's already pulling out her cell phone. <br/>
<br/>
"Keith is just some guy," she says. "But <i>Will Prescott</i> is—"<br/>
<br/>
"What are you doing?" you cry.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm telling them about Will," she retorts as she scrolls through her phone. "There's been <i>so. Much. Chatter</i>," she says, "about him recently. He was out at the Warehouse, you know, and—"<br/>
<br/>
You watch in agony as she prattles on about your original identity, and what a splash you're making, as she shows Rachel and Audrey pictures of you from the weekend party. You don't know which is worse: the way she slavers over you, or the mild indifference that Rachel and Audrey show as they listen and study your picture.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, but then you do know horror when Audrey's lips part in her toothiest smile and she says, "You've got a crush on him, don't you, Jenny?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"God," Carson mutters shortly after dropping next to you on the grassy quad at lunchtime. "Here comes Johansson."<br/>
<br/>
You glance up to see Caleb trudging over with a lunch sack in his hand. "There's nothing wrong with Caleb," you hiss at Carson.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't say there was," he mutters back. Then, with bright, brittle cheer: "Oh, God! It's Johansson!" he exclaims.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you," Caleb snarls as he falls onto the grass. Carson punches you lightly in the ass.<br/>
<br/>
"Where's Tommy Hilfiger?" James says, and snaps a bite from his apple. <br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Calvin Klein. Abercombie Fitch."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck are you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think he means Prescott," Carson says. You tense all over.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh." Caleb frowns down at his limp sandwich. "Off interviewing hoes."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck?" James says.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb glares at you. "Where's your friend Eva?"<br/>
<br/>
"<i>My</i> friend?" you exclaim. "She's your friend too, isn't she?"<br/>
<br/>
"Then how come she isn't off trying to get <i>me</i> laid?"<br/>
<br/>
"Some tasks," Carson airily declares, "are beyond even the extraordinary talents of the Garner sisters."<br/>
<br/>
You feel your eyes bulging. "Is Eva trying to get Will—? Uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"Guh, guh, <i>what,</i> Jenny?" Caleb demands. "Spit it out."<br/>
<br/>
"She's not trying to get Prescott laid," Carson honks. "There's some things Prescott can fuck up on his own."<br/>
<br/>
You're about to say something waspish, but James says, "Watch it!" and in a flash he and Carson are on their feet and galloping away. A moment later, a burly figure dashes past after them, and all three vanish around the corner of the school.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," Caleb says, "at least some people are still in character."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"We need a plan," Philip announces later that night, when you're all meeting in Carlos's studio again. He's still inside the mask of Maria Vasquez, just as the others are still in their cheerleader masks. "A project. A social experiment."<br/>
<br/>
"I thought we had one," Cindy says. She's braiding and unbraiding Chelsea Cooper's hair. "Making Will popular."<br/>
<br/>
"That's the project for these identities. I think we should have a new project for the new betas we're going to be making for ourselves. Does anyone have any ideas?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't care," Jessica announces. "As long as it's something Marcos Rivera can help with."<br/>
<br/>
"And Kendra Saunders," Eva pipes up. She gives you a long, slow wink.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe we could try tearing someone down instead of building them up," Cindy suggests. "The opposite of what we're doing with Will. My boyfriend's a candidate."<br/>
<br/>
No looks excited by the proposal. Nor is there much excitement for Mike's idea that you all try to match up unexpected romantic couples, or for Philip's suggestion that you "infiltrate" and make a "social map" of the sophomore or freshmen classes.<br/>
<br/>
So palpable is the lack of enthusiasm for any of the ideas that hesitate before suggesting the blockbuster idea you had at lunch as you watched Ryan Shuler—one of the thuggish basketball players—chasing off after Carson and James: the body-swapping of other students, without warning.</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213212211121111
author_id: seuzz
title: Operation Freaky Friday
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"How about we use these masks to do, like, some body swaps?"<br/>
<br/>
The words come tumbling out of your mouth unbidden, like they are someone else's words, or like it's someone else's mouth that has attached itself to the front of your face. Your scalp prickles with embarrassment as everyone turns to look at you.<br/>
<br/>
"So, like, um," you stammer. "We could make masks of two people, and then we could put them on each other, so that when, like, when they wake up it's like they've swapped bodies? And then we could watch to see how they act? What they do?" <br/>
<br/>
They all stare at you until you wish the floor would open up to swallow you.<br/>
<br/>
Maria sucks in her lower lip. "I think that sounds kind of cruel," she says.<br/>
<br/>
Eva says, "Did you say 'cruel' or cool'?"<br/>
<br/>
"Cruel."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Because I think it sounds kind of cool."<br/>
<br/>
"Me too," Jessica blurts out. She turns to you. "You mean like in <i>Freaky Friday</i> or one of those kinds of movies?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Eva says before you an answer, and her face brightens. "Or like they're always doing in cartoons or Disney Channel sitcoms?" She turns to Maria. "We could find out how realistic those kinds of shows are!"<br/>
<br/>
"We <i>know</i> how realistic they are," Maria retorts with a frown. "They're not."<br/>
<br/>
"We don't know that."<br/>
<br/>
Maria's eyes widen. "If we do this to people, they could panic and really hurt themselves!"<br/>
<br/>
"Not if we're there to watch out for them."<br/>
<br/>
"They'd panic," Maria insists. "They wouldn't know how to act as their new selves. No, it's too dangerous."<br/>
<br/>
"So we put some memory strips into the masks," Eva says. "Like we've got. Yeah!" Her eyes widen with excitement. "We could see how they react in both cases! Because they wouldn't have the memories right away, right? And we could see how they— If they don't have the memories, how they try to get by. But then the next morning they'd have the memories and they'd be able to get along okay, and then—" She starts bouncing up and down. "Then we'd see what they'd do as their new selves when they've got total control of themselves!"<br/>
<br/>
"I like it," Jessica declares. She grins at you.<br/>
<br/>
Maria, looking harassed, looks over Cindy and Chelsea. "I'm all for it," Cindy says. "Can we do it with Seth?" Chelsea says nothing, but smiles at the ceiling with her eyes closed.<br/>
<br/>
Maria pulls at her hair. ""God," she groans. "Okay. But we need to think really carefully about who we do it to. They have to be really grounded people, the kind who won't panic if—" <br/>
<br/>
She takes a deep breath but doesn't finish the sentence.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Talk then shifts to possible candidates. Lots of names get tossed around, and there's a lot of squealing laughter (from Eva and Jessica mostly; but Maria hardly smiles) as proposed victims suffer proposed swaps. But no decisions are made before the party breaks up.<br/>
<br/>
You walk out with Cindy. "Are you going to be getting into Seth's mask any time soon?" you ask her.<br/>
<br/>
"Meh. Probably not. Not sure I really want to know that asshole from the inside out. Specially not if we wind up swapping him with someone else."<br/>
<br/>
"So you'll be staying as Cindy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't say that either. Why?" <br/>
<br/>
"Just wondering. Be kind of funny seeing Seth coming down the hall and knowing it's really you." <br/>
<br/>
Cindy makes a face, then glances back over her shoulder toward the studio, where the others are still getting themselves together to leave. <br/>
<br/>
"Bet you a box of donuts that Fairfax is gonna want us swapping out with people who can watch the fun," she says. "You know, all of us getting new betas and everything. So 'less it's some of the cheerleaders getting swapped around with each other, it's pro'ly not gonna be Cindy for me much longer." She grimaces.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Swapping cheerleaders around for each other.</i> The idea sticks in your mind like a burr sticks to a sock.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>The next morning:</i> Yumi is bristling all over as she bursts into the library third-period and hurls her backpack onto the table in front of you. "Someone tell me it isn't really against the law to kill a cheerleader," she snarls.<br/>
<br/>
You and Eva and Audrey and Rachel look up at her with surprise. Not because she's acting all charged up—Yumi is often popping off about something or other. But because—<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you had Chemistry or something this period," you snap.<br/>
<br/>
"So I'm skipping." She glares at Eva. "The <i>fuck</i> is wrong with Cindy these days?"<br/>
<br/>
A furtive look skitters across Eva's face. "I don't know. What makes you think there's something—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why do you want to kill Cindy?" you interrupt.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't, I want to kill Chelsea," Yumi says, "and I thought Cindy did too. Hey." She nods at Audrey and Rachel. "At least, once upon a time she did. These days—"<br/>
<br/>
"It's her and Seth," Eva bursts in. "She's all distracted on account of him and—"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck him. And fuck her too if she can't— God, Eva!" Yumi rounds on her friend, who is turning very pink. "And when did <i>you</i> become such a chicken-shitted—?"<br/>
<br/>
"We can go," Audrey says, and she pulls her books toward her. Rachel, after a second's confusion, starts to follow.<br/>
<br/>
"Sit. Stay," Yumi orders, and they freeze. "I feel like having an audience."<br/>
<br/>
And then she launches into a breathless, red-faced account of the terror that Chelsea Cooper inflicted on the other cheerleaders just that morning—insults and catty comments, threats, the vindictive imposition of exercises in punishment for failures at routines, shrieks of outrage over those same failures, and a hurricane of furious tears as she accused the other members of the squad of purposefully sabotaging their chances at a state or <i>even a regional championship,</i> just to spite Chelsea during her one shot at captaining a cheerleading team.<br/>
<br/>
It's a shocking recital, and it becomes more shocking as you think back to last night at the storage complex, and to that same Chelsea hugging herself and squeezing her boobs and smiling vacantly as her arch-enemy Cindy Vredenburg stroked and played idly with her hair.<br/>
<br/>
"It wasn't that bad," Eva grumbles when Yumi has run out of outrage.<br/>
<br/>
"That's what Cindy told me last period!" Yumi fumes. "Which is why I'm asking , what's wrong with her? Time was, she was the one trying to talk everyone into dumping Chelsea curbside. Without her, who have we got?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>It could be you,</i> you find yourself thinking.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Chelsea, you can't help but notice, is giving you a very steady and very hostile look after you finish presenting your case for swapping her with Yumi Saito. Of course, you wouldn't be swapping <i>this</i> version of Chelsea Cooper—who is really Josiah Shank—and Yumi. But Josiah would have to give up being Chelsea in order for your proposal to work.<br/>
<br/>
So maybe (you reflect as you settle back against the chilly concrete wall of Carlos's studio) you should have proposed something else.<br/>
<br/>
And maybe Fairfax is thinking the same thing, for Maria's comment on your suggestion—"Interesting"—is only lukewarm. "Other ideas?" he asks the room.<br/>
<br/>
Cindy raises her hand. "Seth and someone else."<br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't give a fuck."<br/>
<br/>
Maria sighs. "You have to suggest some—"<br/>
<br/>
"Carson Ioeger," you blurt out.<br/>
<br/>
"Works for me," says Cindy.<br/>
<br/>
"Why Carson?" Maria asks.<br/>
<br/>
"He's always giving Seth shit," you say, "and Seth is always giving him shit. They could get to know what it's like to be on the receiving end of each other's shit. And, um, Jenny and Cindy"—you glance at Keith—"are perfectly positioned for watching how they react."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. Any other ideas?" Maria fixes a keen eye on Eva and Jessica, who are giggling and smirking. "Yes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Marc and Hannah," Jessica says, and bursts into the giggles. She clutches her sister.<br/>
<br/>
Maria frowns. "That's his girlfriend, isn't it?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's what makes it perfect," Eva gasps as she clutches Jessica back.<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"What? But—"<br/>
<br/>
"It's too weird. It can be Marc and someone else or Hannah and someone else, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"That's no fair! You can't just veto our—!"<br/>
<br/>
So an argument breaks out, which you stay out of. The long and short of it is that Mike and Carlos settle for proposing a swap between Marc Garner and Stephanie Wyatt. The latter is an old friend of the Garner siblings, and she was once a soccer player, so maybe it would be interesting to see them adapt as each other.<br/>
<br/>
"Do you have any ideas?" you ask Maria when that much is settled. "Or you?" you ask Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
The latter only closes her eyes and purses her lips. But Maria says, "I was thinking of Charles Hartlein and Cody Schaefer."<br/>
<br/>
Now it's your turn to frown. You only know Cody from Jenny's second-period AP Constitutional Law class. He's a well-spoken preppy type who reminds you of Geoff Mansfield but without the smarm. Why Philip wants to swap him with the gay drama student you can't guess.</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132122111211111
author_id: seuzz
title: Masks and Attachments
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>An awkward silence settles over the room. Pinched glances are exchanged, but everyone hesitates to say anything.<br/>
<br/>
Probably you should keep quiet. But just like last night, words come tumbling out of your mouth without your quite willing them to come.<br/>
<br/>
"I still think we should switch Yumi and Chelsea," you say. "It's the classic kind of a body swap, right? Two people who can't stand each other have to live their lives as each other. And some good might come of it. Chelsea might learn to be a decent human being. And whatever problem Yumi's got—"<br/>
<br/>
You shouldn't have been looking at Chelsea—at the guy who's pretending to be Chelsea—when you said she "might learn to be a decent human being." You probably shouldn't have been looking at her anyway, regardless of what you said.<br/>
<br/>
For her eyes lock on you, and they start to burn. Her nostrils flare, and her jaw tightens.<br/>
<br/>
Then in a single leap, she is on her feet and out the door.<br/>
<br/>
For a shocked moment, no one says anything, and no one moves. Then, with only a quick, sidelong glance at you, Maria hurries after her.<br/>
<br/>
And again, just like last night, you wish the floor would open up to swallow you.<br/>
<br/>
No one says anything, and no one looks at you either. You'd love to break the silence, if only you had something to say. Instead, you swallow and swallow again, and your face burns, until you feel tears stinging the back of your eyeballs.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Stupid, stupid, stupid!</i> You should have noticed how much Josiah liked being Chelsea Cooper, just from the way he stared at you when you first proposed the Yumi-Chelsea swap. Now he's furiously pissed off at you, and your idea is dead (so what was the point in even proposing it?) and everyone will probably hate you for ruining Josiah's happy fun-time. <i>Stupid!</i><br/>
<br/>
You cringe as Eva takes a deep breath and stretches her legs and leans back to address the ceiling.<br/>
<br/>
"It would probably be a really good idea," she says, "to get Josiah out of that mask."<br/>
<br/>
Jessica looks momentarily startled, then snorts, "No shit."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm serious," Eva says.<br/>
<br/>
"So am I. It can't be healthy."<br/>
<br/>
You're too dumbstruck to say anything.<br/>
<br/>
"It's probably a lot of fun being Chelsea," Cindy says. "He was having a lot of fun this morning, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Too much fun," says Jessica. "Yumi and Lin weren't the only ones that wanted to smack him."<br/>
<br/>
"What did he do?" you croak.<br/>
<br/>
"What Yumi was telling us all this morning." Eva gives you a quick, sharp look. "That's what he did."<br/>
<br/>
"I mean ... Why'd he do it?"<br/>
<br/>
Jessica stretches her legs. "I dunno," she says. "He goes in and out of character. Maybe Philip said something to him last night. Lately Chelsea's been more of a space cadet than Maria."<br/>
<br/>
Talk continues in that vein for a little while, until you screw up the courage to timidly apologize for causing an issue. The others brush it off. "Don't worry about it, Will," Jessica says. "He can't be Chelsea forever, he might well give it up sooner rather than later."<br/>
<br/>
But everyone falls quiet again when Maria returns. Chelsea isn't with her.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," she sighs, "let's call a night, shall we?"<br/>
<br/>
"What's with Josiah?" Jessica demands. "And what's the plan?"<br/>
<br/>
"No plan, not yet. We'll talk about it tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry," you say. "I shouldn't have pushed for—"<br/>
<br/>
"Forget it, Will," Maria says. "It's not your fault." But she doesn't look pleased with you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But you do worry about it all night, and the next morning you are still ill with worry. Before school you lurk in the small quad that nestles between the gym, the theater, and the main building while waiting for the cheerleaders to show up for morning practice. That's where Carson finds you when he comes loping in from the parking lot. "What are you doing out here, Ashton?" he demands when he sees you.<br/>
<br/>
"Waiting for you and James. Where <i>is</i> James?" You peer past him toward the parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
"Already in the library. So what do you want?"<br/>
<br/>
"Want? Nothing. Why would I want anything, I'm just waiting for you guys, that's all."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." His eyebrows go up. "Is it about your birthday party?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! I'm—"<br/>
<br/>
The door to the school building opens, and Kendra Saunders and Gloria Rea come striding out. <i>Chelsea's enforcers,</i> you think. Chelsea's not with them, but at the sight of them all your courage deserts you.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, come on, let's go find James," you squeak, and you grab and drag Carson along behind you.<br/>
<br/>
So you don't catch up to any of your colleagues until third period, when you find Eva waiting just inside the library door. She gestures you over with a frantic wave of her hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Quick, before Rachel and Audrey get here," she mutters. "We're all set for that switch like you were talking about. Except— Don't you have first-period choir or something with Deanna Showalter?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, why? Wait." You clutch her arm. "Is Josiah going along with—?"<br/>
<br/>
She brushes you off. "Yes. Or Philip talked him into it, one way or another. Got a text a little while ago." She glances past you, and pulls up close. "Josiah will give up Chelsea, but you've got to get Deanna for him. That's who he wants for his next beta."<br/>
<br/>
"Deanna?" You make a face. "I can't stand that— I wouldn't be convincing trying to talk to her."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, someone's got to, 'cos Josiah—"<br/>
<br/>
"Help me out, man." You grab Eva again. "You and Jessica hang out with her, don't you? I've heard you, or them, talking about her—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, but you owe us. We'll talk about it at lunch."<br/>
<br/>
"In front of Carson and—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Shh!" She pulls you over to a table as the door opens behind you. "Me and Jessica were ready to <i>kill</i> Marc this morning," she announces in a loud voice for the benefit of Rachel and Audrey, who have just come in.<br/>
<br/>
Then she's off talking about her brother, giving you no time to wonder why Josiah would suddenly be willing to switch a goddess-bombshell like Chelsea Cooper for a second-rate gossip queen like Deanna Showalter.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But Eva doesn't show up at lunch, and neither does your replacement. You try wheedling some news about "Will" out of Caleb, but he says he hasn't got anything to tell you. The whole thing gives you a nasty itch, like a rash. You switched with Jenny in order to help your beta out, but it's like he's avoiding you or something, and you wind yourself into a temper by the time lunch is over, and decide to make it a point to confront your substitute after school.<br/>
<br/>
But that's when Maria and the other catch up to you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"We need you to get together with Yumi," Maria tells you. You're in the A-wing girls' restroom, and she's touching up her makeup. (Jenny doesn't wear any makeup worth touching up, so you're playing with some water in the sink instead.) You have the place to yourselves, for the school has mostly cleared out. "Like, tonight if you can. Anyway, the sooner the better."<br/>
<br/>
"What for?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm getting to that, Will. You'll have to stop by the storage complex before then. Make it around eight. We'll have a mask and memory strip for you to pick up."<br/>
<br/>
"For copying Yumi?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. You—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know if I can get out to see her after eight."<br/>
<br/>
Maria's brow darkens. "Tomorrow, then," she sighs. "Whatever works for you. But you'll also need to get some clothes of hers. Something loose fitting, like sweat pants, that you can get in and out of quickly."<br/>
<br/>
"Me? Why am I going to be putting them on?"<br/>
<br/>
Maria puts down her mascara and gives you a direct look.<br/>
<br/>
"You're being awfully excitable, Will," she says. "You won't have to put them on. I meant 'you' in the generic sense of 'someone'. Clothes that <i>someone</i> can get in and out of—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, alright, jeez. So loose-fitting clothes and a mask and memory thing. Off of Yumi."<br/>
<br/>
"Right. The mask will knock her out and you should be able to rifle her clothes then."<br/>
<br/>
"If the mask knocks her out, what'll I say when—?" You break off as Maria's frown deepens into a glare. "Never mind, I'll figure out something to say. Or will I have to say anything? Is that when we switch her and Chelsea?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. That will be for later. The clothes and the mask are just the first step. We're going to do this very carefully and logically, and that means preparing ahead of time. Probably we won't be able to make the switch until this weekend. But the sooner we get the pieces together, the sooner we can do it."<br/>
<br/>
"What happens after I get the mask and clothes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Bring them out to the studio."<br/>
<br/>
"And then?"<br/>
<br/>
Maria puts her things away. "And then hang loose and listen for your name."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You text Yumi after supper, and she says it'll be okay for you to come over later. At the same time you've been texting your beta, badgering him for news. But he says there isn't any. You wonder if you're going to have to take him in hand.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe it's this close juxtaposition that gives you the wild idea: You could set yourself up to date Yumi. But it wouldn't be Yumi, it would really be Chelsea, because the switch would have happened by then. How awesome would it be to set yourself up with Chelsea—in Yumi's body—as your girlfriend?</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321221112111111
author_id: seuzz
title: Teases for Two
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>So Fairfax has a carefully laid out, multi-stage plan for pulling off the Yumi-Chelsea switch.<br/>
<br/>
Well, you can concoct a carefully laid out, multi-stage plan of your own. One that will give you Chelsea (trapped in Yumi's body) as a girlfriend!<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So what's going on with Will these days?" you ask Yumi after you've got the school books spread out on the floor of her bedroom. Homework is your excuse her for coming over.<br/>
<br/>
She looks up with a blank expression. "Will Prescott?" you needle her. <i>Jeez, are there any other 'Wills' that she knows?</i><br/>
<br/>
Her expression remains blank. "What about him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God, Yumi, c'mon. You've got to have noticed. It's like he's gotten popular these days. Changing his image. You know."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi shrugs. "Well, it happens to every guy eventually, right? They get tired of being dateless and decide to do something about it."<br/>
<br/>
"So you think that's it? You think it's working?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, I haven't really been paying attention." <br/>
<br/>
<i>Ouch.</i><br/>
<br/>
But then her brow furrows. "Are Carson and them giving him shit about it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, not that I've—"<br/>
<br/>
"Because that's something they'd totally do, you know. Give him shit. Like, God forbid one of their friends actually <i>tries</i> to grow up."<br/>
<br/>
Her comment leaves you flummoxed, and in that moment she leans forward with just the trace of a twinkle in her eye. "So why are you asking. What do <i>you</i> think of Will and his ... updated image?"<br/>
<br/>
And just like that you flashback to your first morning as Jenny, when Audrey asked point-blank if you have a crush on Will Prescott. <i>I don't know I never paid attention to him,</i> you want to yell. <i>I just noticed he's changed his look that's all god I'm not asking because of that!</i><br/>
<br/>
Luckily, your tongue refuses to engage, which gives your brain time to spin around and shoot off in a better direction.<br/>
<br/>
"I like the new look," you gasp in a confiding tone, and inch up to put your face closer to Yumi's. "It makes him look— I don't know."<br/>
<br/>
A tiny smile creases her lips. "Like he's suddenly started caring about his appearance?"<br/>
<br/>
You slap her lightly on the arm. "More than that. He looks more confident. You know? More relaxed, too. Have you noticed that about guys?"<br/>
<br/>
"Noticed what?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." You sigh and turn over on your back. "Like, the douchey guys are all about strutting around, and the derpy guys just kind of scuttle. The good ones, in the middle, you know, they don't strut but they don't scuttle. They just do what they want to do without making a fuss about it."<br/>
<br/>
"Pft. Name one guy like you mean."<br/>
<br/>
You draw a deep breath and dive deep into Jenny's memories. "That guy George who's in the orchestra with you."<br/>
<br/>
"George Basham? Ew!"<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong with him?" You flip back onto your side.<br/>
<br/>
"He's a <i>total</i> douche."<br/>
<br/>
"Really? Tell me."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi does tell you, and it doesn't take her more than a few sentences to get you to peg him as a Geoff Mansfield clone: rich, privileged, condescending, tight with his friends and sniffy toward everyone else.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, at least he doesn't strut," you conclude when she's done. "At least, not that I've seen."<br/>
<br/>
"He doesn't have to. He can pay other people to strut for him."<br/>
<br/>
You give Yumi a few more names of guys who Jenny likes to eye from afar without tipping her hand: Michael Wilson (a tall, rangy kid on the swim team); Raymond Koepp (another member of the orchestra, but who also likes to hike and camp); Nicholas Gray (a handsome and unpretentious member of the school choir); and Luke Richardson (a red-headed member of the baseball team).<br/>
<br/>
Yumi's dimples deepen during the recital. "Sounds like Will's got himself some competition."<br/>
<br/>
"He isn't even in the competition!" you stammer. Then you blush. "What competition? There is no— Jesus, Yumi!" She openly laughs at you. "I've just noticed him lately, that's all! I wondering if <i>you</i> had too."<br/>
<br/>
"Well," she drawls, an averts her eyes. "I have noticed the way Cindy and Eva and Jessica have sort of taken him in hand."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" You straighten up, for this sounds like an opening. "Does everyone talk about him at cheerleader practice?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! It's just they've been the ones getting him to change his look. Haven't they talked to you about it?"<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, me neither. I don't get it, but I don't pry." Her expression falls into a frown. "Except I am a little worried about Will."<br/>
<br/>
"How come?"<br/>
<br/>
"He went out to the Warehouse last weekend. That's not his kind of scene."<br/>
<br/>
"It looks like he made it out okay."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, most people do. But Will? At the Warehouse? I mean, I wouldn't call Cindy and Eva and Jessica a fast crowd, but they're faster than Will."<br/>
<br/>
And that's when you toss her the hook: "You'd be more his speed, right?"<br/>
<br/>
She gives you a look and changes the subject back to homework. But that tells you she's interested enough in your alter ego to be embarrassed at your suggestion.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So that was stage one of your plan: planting the idea with Yumi of you as a boyfriend. But you've still got stage one of Philip's plan to execute.<br/>
<br/>
You picked up the gear at the storage complex before coming out: a blank mask with a memory strip attached to its inner surface. Carlos—Jessica—told you what to do it, and it's simplicity itself. Just get the mask onto Yumi's face and give it ten minutes to copy her, during which time it will vanish inside of her. He suggested ambushing her from behind, but instead you decide to pretend to find it on accident inside your book bag. Not long after the above conversation you pull it out to show her, telling her it's a weird antique that you found in a thrift shop. <br/>
<br/>
It takes only a little goading to get her to put it up close to her face—"So I can how it looks, like, for Halloween"—and then to nudge it into place. As Carlos warned, it seems to vanish inside her face, and she rolls onto her side with an open mouth and a frozen stare of surprise. While she's out you dig out some old sweat pants, a floppy t-shirt, and underthings from her dresser and stuff them into the bottom of your book bag. Then, when the mask comes out of her, you hide it away as well, then go out into the living room to chat with Yumi's mom.<br/>
<br/>
Your friend looks vexed and confused when she comes charging out a little later, but you pretend that everything is normal, and when she asks you about the mask, you tell her you put it away then went out to use the bathroom, and why is she asking about it? She drops the subject after that, but the incident has killed her enthusiasm for studying, and you don't stick around long afterward.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Awesome!</i> is what Jessica says at school the next day when you show her the mask and clothes you got off Yumi. She takes them from your book bag and slips them into her locker. But when you ask what "stage two" will be, she only tells you it'll happen this weekend.<br/>
<br/>
So move on to the second stage of your own plan: getting Yumi and your beta together. "Where have you been going at lunch?" you demand of him when you corner him at his locker.<br/>
<br/>
He blanches. "Oh, eating."<br/>
<br/>
"With who?"<br/>
<br/>
"People."<br/>
<br/>
You grip his arm. "Names, Will."<br/>
<br/>
He reddens. "Different girls," he mutters. "On the volleyball team and softball teams mostly."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Wow.</i> You'd love to hear more, but you'll be late to class. "Ask Yumi out after school," you order him. "Coffee, Panera, friends, like that. Be relaxed and casual." You grip  him harder. "But before you go, ask her out on a date this weekend."<br/>
<br/>
His eyes widen. "Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. That's the reason you're asking her out today. You want to go out with her tomorrow night. But don't spring on her, for God's sake. Just at the end, ask if she'll go out with you tomorrow night."<br/>
<br/>
"What will we do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus. Don't the volleyball girls have ideas you can steal?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So you're pleased with the way things are going, until Eva yanks you aside after school for a private conference.<br/>
<br/>
"We're all ready for the swap," she hisses, "except Yumi won't play ball. She's got a date tonight. With <i>your beta.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
You pale. "Why is that a problem?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because we need to get her someplace alone! Up at school, preferably. Can you talk to her, or your beta, find some excuse to get her up here at around seven?"<br/>
<br/>
Off the top of your head you can think of only one way to do it: Get your beta to arrange a double date for him and Yumi, and you and James Lamont.</span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213212211121111112
author_id: seuzz
title: Double Dealing and Double Dates
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I'll think of something," you assure Eva, and dodge her frown. "Is there a special time we need to do it?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, but we'll need, like, fifteen minutes notice, at least." Eva squeezes in close and drops her voice to a mutter. "But it has to be in the parking lot, in her car or in yours. So, like, try to get her out there after basketball practice is over, or get together with her later tonight. Oh, and there can't be anyone else around. Obviously."<br/>
<br/>
You make a face, but repeat your assurance that you can figure something out. You start to turn away, but Eva is pressing something into your hands. "What's—? Oh!"<br/>
<br/>
It's a mask, and it lusters in your hands.<br/>
<br/>
"It's the one you made of Yumi," Eva whispers. "You have to get it on to her, like you did the other night, to get her most recent memories into it."<br/>
<br/>
Another complication. You gulp.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The second-worst part of the next hour is trying to figure out how to get Yumi alone in the Westside parking lot, and to do it without knowing exactly how the other guys intend to pull off this switcheroo.<br/>
<br/>
But the worst part is arranging the double-date with James.<br/>
<br/>
Several times, as you test out various texts on your phone, you almost bug out of it. But the sensible part of your brain tells you that a double-date with James along would be the best way of impressing on the new Yumi that she should be going out with Will Prescott. Otherwise, the Yumi-encased Chelsea is likely to scamper off in a panic.<br/>
<br/>
But after you finally shoot out the oh-so-casual, totally-not-meaningful invite to James—<i>hey, come hang out with me n yumi and will p at panera fr sup?</i>—you have to wait an agonizing half hour for his curt reply: <i>k sure watt time?</i> You reply that you'll have to get back to him.<br/>
<br/>
Then you text Yumi and your beta, asking them to meet you up at the school around five. <br/>
<br/>
And because you've had a sudden brain-wave, you fire a text to Eva asking if she and the rest of the crew can meet you at the same place at four-thirty, so you can explain your idea and get them to say if it will work.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So when Yumi pulls into the student parking lot, she finds you and your beta lounging in the bed of his truck. The rest of the lot is mostly empty.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey!" you chirp as she climbs from her car with a frown of curiosity. "We're waiting for James!"<br/>
<br/>
"Your James?" she calls back. You wince inside at the implication that you and Lamont belong specially to each other. "What for?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're all going out together. You don't mind a quartet, do you?"<br/>
<br/>
She shrugs, and climbs up into the truck bed with you, as you'd planned. Far off, on the other side of the parking lot, the Garners' minivan slides out of its parking space and prowls over, stopping a scant dozen yards away, parking where Yumi won't see it. The doors open, and the two Garner girls get out; their footsteps can't be heard over the growl of traffic on the nearby boulevard. You keep your eyes on Yumi's face and distract her with a pointless but excited story of a pop quiz that rattled you this morning so that she won't look around and notice that—<br/>
<br/>
Jessica reaches up and around from behind her, to press a mask into her face. It vanishes, and Yumi falls onto her side, banging her head as she goes down.<br/>
<br/>
"Smooth, sis," Eva snorts as she and Jessica hop into the truck bed with you. "Give her a concussion, why don't you?" <br/>
<br/>
"How are Josiah and Chelsea coming along?" you ask as you and your beta scramble to spread your victim out on the bottom of the truck bed.<br/>
<br/>
"All set," Jessica says as she takes out her cell phone. "I'll get Philip to come out here and move Chelsea's car over." Eva begins to pull off Yumi's clothes, and you squat next to her to help.<br/>
<br/>
Ten minutes later, Chelsea's car is parked directly behind your truck with the driver's side door open; the unconscious Yumi, now in Chelsea's clothes—it's a good thing they are nearly the same size—is wedged in behind the wheel. You and your friends stand at the ready, watching anxiously for the reappearance of the mask. When it falls out of her face, Jessica catches it and passes it to you. "Better get out of here," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"That goes for you too," you tell your beta. "Meet you out front." He hops into the truck cab as you sprint toward the school. You look back as you run, in time to see your truck turning out of the parking lot; the Garners are already back in their minivan, leaving Maria alone by Chelsea's car. She bends over Yumi as you watch, then straightens up and closes the door.<br/>
<br/>
A grin spreads across your face. That was her putting Chelsea's mask onto Yumi.<br/>
<br/>
So Yumi Saito is now inside Chelsea Cooper's body and Chelsea Cooper's clothes. When she wakes it will look to her like she's been body-swapped.<br/>
<br/>
Inside the school, you jog off for the nearest boys' restroom, where Seth Javits, his arms crossed, is slouching by the door. He glowers, but lifts his chin in acknowledgement. "Is Cindy around?" you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
"She's waiting for me, said to come find her after you showed up. The fuck are you faggts up to? Never mind, I don't wanna know." He lurches upright and with a scowl swaggers off the way you came. You make a face at his back.<br/>
<br/>
It gives you a queer turn—though you were expecting it—when you push into the restroom and find two identical copies of Josiah Shank waiting for you inside.<br/>
<br/>
Well, they're not exactly identical. Only one of them is wearing glasses; the other peers at you near-sightedly, and huddles inside the sleeping bag he's wrapped around himself.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, man," you snort. "What if some of the basketball guys came in here and found you like this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus yourself," the one in the glasses snaps back. "That's how come we put Seth out front. And the fuck took you so long getting here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, I got it here as quick as I could." You hand him the mask you made of Yumi. <br/>
<br/>
He takes it only to pass it off to the one wrapped in the sleeping bag. The bag slips a little as he takes it, dropping just enough to show that he's wearing the top that you and Jessica pulled off Yumi. (It's a good thing the tiny, bony Shank isn't much bigger that Yumi.) "And when the fuck are you gonna get me a mask of Deanna?" the real Josiah demands.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought Mike and Carlos were handling that. Come on, don't we need to get you into the girls' bathroom?"<br/>
<br/>
"They've been too busy fucking around with this goddam shit," he mutters. "I want Deanna's face by this goddam fucking Saturday night, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
You haven't had a lot of dealings with Josiah, so it surprises you a little to find that this mousy blonde nerd likes to cuss so much and so hard. "We'll get it done, don't worry," you assure him as you peer into the hallway, then gesture him and the other to follow you out. It takes an ungodly long time for the fake Josiah to bunny-hop his way around the drinking fountain and into the girls' restroom.<br/>
<br/>
"You know that's my price for going along with your fucking shit," Josiah grumbles as he maneuvers his beta into one of the stalls and helps it out of the bag. "I was having a lot of fucking fun—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, you were having a lot of fucking fun fucking around with Chelsea's fucking tits," you growl at him. "Did you have a lot of fucking fun fucking her boyfriend too?" you unwisely add. Josiah scowls, but he says nothing before bending over his beta to rip at its face. He fumbles at it a little more before straightening up.<br/>
<br/>
And when he backs out of the stall, it's Yumi Saito who is sprawled next to the toilet. <br/>
<br/>
"Okay, there's that," Josiah says. "I hope you have fun with her." With a glower he hikes the sleeping bag up under his arm and flees.<br/>
<br/>
You're not long in following, after you arrange the new Yumi so that she doesn't look so much like she's passed out in a drunken stupor. You prop her purse next on the sink, then go out to wait in the hallway.<br/>
<br/>
And now that the deed is done, your heart begins to hammer hard in your chest.<br/>
<br/>
What have you done? Okay, obviously you've pulled off a kind of body-swap between Yumi and Chelsea, two cheerleaders who loathe and detest each other. But what will they do when they wake up in each other's bodies? Will they freak out? Will they hurt themselves? Will they run around squawking that they've been body-swapped, drawing attention to you and your friends? Will they figure what's happened and how it's happened?<br/>
<br/>
Will someone wind up—you gulp at the thought—dead?<br/>
<br/>
You settle back against the lockers with your head bowed over your cell phone. You text James, telling him to plan on meeting you in twenty minutes at Panera, then flip through old texts and Twitter and Instagram and other social media sites without reading—without hardly even seeing—the pages. Your eye flicks at the time, counting down the minutes until you can go into the restroom to check on the new Yumi. <i>Ten minutes,</i> Philip and them told you. <i>Sometimes twelve, sometimes eight, before they wake up.</i><br/>
<br/>
Ten minutes to go before you go in to check, to ask her if she's finished getting ready for the double-date that you've set up for tonight.</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132122111211111121
author_id: seuzz
title: Breaking Bread with the New Girl
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Ten minutes pass, then twelve. But it's fifteen full minutes before you unglue your shoulder blades from the school lockers and push your way back into the restroom.<br/>
<br/>
Yumi Saito is standing at the sink, regarding her reflection with frank horror. She jumps at your entrance, and turns saucer-like eyes onto you.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," you greet her, and do your best to keep the quaver out of your voice. "You almost ready to go?" You'd like to ignore her distress, but it's so obvious that you have to follow up with, "What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
She only stares at you. "Yumi?" you say.<br/>
<br/>
She claps her mouth shut, but her eyes still bulge.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God,</i> you think. <i>Am I going to have to ask her if she's sick, and take her home, or maybe even to the hospital?</i><br/>
<br/>
Fortunately, you get inspiration.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, it's okay." You squeeze in close so you can put your arm around her shoulder. "It's only Will, and it's not even a date, not really. Me and James'll be there. It's just a fun little get-together."<br/>
<br/>
Her lips part, and a soft squeak escapes her throat.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, don't be so nervous." You rub her back. "And we need to get going, James'll be meeting us out there in twenty, and Will's probably wondering if you fell in."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi swallows thickly and turns away. She fumbles at her purse as though it were a dead possum, and her feet turn loose of the floor only after you've put your arm in hers and tugged her toward the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You prattle all the way out the school, mostly to cover the awkward silence but also to fill Chelsea in on the role she's supposed to be playing. You inform her that Will is bound to be more scared of her than she is of him, that there's no reason to be scared at all because it's not really a date, and you confide that Will is probably looking for nothing more than a little confidence boost.<br/>
<br/>
"It's probably just about him not wanting to graduate this year without having had a girlfriend," you tell her, and the words surprise and discomfit you even as they come tumbling out. "I mean, I'm sure that's what it is, with the new clothes and stuff. Make a change, get himself an attitude adjustment. So, like, if you could just play along and make him feel better about himself, that's all he's really looking for, I'm sure."<br/>
<br/>
Then you hear yourself add, through gritted teeth, "He's probably not going to ask you out again or anything. 'Cos this isn't a date."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit.</i> You've practically gone and torpedoed your whole plan to set yourself up with this Yumi-Chelsea hybrid as a girlfriend, all to keep Chelsea from throwing up on your shoes<br/>
<br/>
And she doesn't throw up. But neither does she reply, and she slows up as you approach the white pickup truck parked at the end of the front walkway. She hangs back, and she gives you a pained and frightened look when you nudge her to get in. She clambers up and sits next to your beta with her arms and legs pulled in, like a doll positioned in a display case.<br/>
<br/>
Your beta gives her a long look up and down. "Hey Yumi," he says. "You look nice."<br/>
<br/>
She swallows again, and turns very pale. But with a rictus-like smile she manages to squeak out three syllables: "Thanks, uh, Will."<br/>
<br/>
He looks over the top of her head at you, and raises an eyebrow. You flash him a quick grimace back.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You and your beta chat around her on the way out, talking about your respective school days and possible plans for the weekend. At Panera, Yumi hangs back and studies with the menu board with something like panic on her face. But when she fumbles at her purse, you lean in to hiss that she should let Will pay for it—"because he'll want to." She looks relieved at that, and orders the lowest-calorie salad on offer. You make a face, and order the same while Will orders himself a ham-and-melted cheese panini that looks to be almost six inches thick when arrives.<br/>
<br/>
You've just settled into a booth with Will and Yumi on one side and you on the other when James saunters in. He's dressed a lot sloppier than your beta is, and you can barely hide your wince as he flops in next to you. In contrast to Will's button-down shirt and slacks, he's in a ratty, blue fleece pullover, and his jeans sport a ragged hole at one knee. Little spit curls of hair spike off the back of his head and over his ears.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," he says as he drops a lanky arm around your shoulder. "So who's paying for mine?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're paying for your own," you snap at him.<br/>
<br/>
"Did Yumi pay for her own?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," you admit through clenched teeth.<br/>
<br/>
"Then Will can pay for mine too. Hey man." He jerks his chin at your beta. "Nice shirt. 'Zat one of Geoff Mansfield's hand-me-downs?"<br/>
<br/>
Your beta flushes. "Are those some of Carson's things you got on?" he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, probably." He sniffs his shoulder. "Maybe. I leave so much of my shit at his place and he leave so much at mine that we don't know what's mine and what's his any more."<br/>
<br/>
"Like girls trying on each other's things," Will snorts.<br/>
<br/>
"And who picked out your new shit?" James says. You pinch him on the thigh, but he ignores you. "I hear the cheerleaders have been playing dress up with you, like you're a purse puppy or something."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi, you notice, perks up at that.<br/>
<br/>
"If you guys wanna take it outside," you say, "me and Yumi'll let you."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just jerking his chain, Prescott knows that." James slides a leg past yours; he's probably trying to kick your beta in the shin, but it's Yumi who winces and jumps. "I'm'a go order me something." With a grunt, James clambers to his feet.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry about him," you start to apologize to the others. But James has pushed exactly the right button to get Yumi talking.<br/>
<br/>
"So you've been hanging out with Cindy and the Garners?" she says, turning to your beta with a sharp but quizzical smile. "What's that all about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Um—" Your beta gives you a terrified look. <br/>
<br/>
"Go on, Will." You grin at him. "Yumi's been <i>fascinated</i> by you. We were talking about you a couple of nights ago"—you dimple at the fake Yumi—"and she was quizzing me <i>hard</i> about you."<br/>
<br/>
The real Yumi would probably have glared at you. She might have even stormed out.<br/>
<br/>
But Chelsea isn't to be embarrassed by anything that would embarrass Yumi. She just turns a high-wattage smile onto Will.<br/>
<br/>
So Will stammers a quick and dirty summary of the shopping trips he's been on, and the clothes that they helped him pick out. Yumi listens closely, and confirms who the girls were. "And Seth was okay with Cindy shopping for you?" she asks with arched eyebrows.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, I didn't ask."<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy can handle Seth," you put in.<br/>
<br/>
"They all sound so interested in you," Yumi tells Will. "Which one are you going to ask out?"<br/>
<br/>
Will looks at you. "I, uh, thought <i>we</i> were—" He breaks off as James falls into the booth with you again.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, they can't <i>all</i> go out with you," Yumi says with a titter, "even without taking Seth into account. You know," she continues, looking around the table with a bright, expectant look on her face. "I suddenly realize, I don't think I remember how we all got to be friends. I know I don't remember how Eva and Jessica and Cindy"—she says the last name with special emphasis—"all got to be friends with us. Or with <i>you,</i> Will."<br/>
<br/>
Her hand disappears under the table, and Will jumps in his seat.<br/>
<br/>
Neither he nor James seem keen to recollect on who met who and where and how, so it's up to you to offer up what you know, with the two boys putting in corrections. Most of you met in elementary school or middle school, which Yumi affects to remember with a laugh after you point it out. She forces the conversation into further reminiscences, and you help her out as best you can when you realize that Chelsea is trying to learn as much as possible about her new identity. James turns bored and impatient; with a kick under the table you prod your beta into contributing more than he'd obviously like to. <br/>
<br/>
But Yumi drinks it all in, and milks the rest of the table as hard as she can by dragging in the names of the people you sometimes hang out with: Carson and Paul, Caleb and Keith; Lin and the Garners and Cindy and Kim Walsh and Jamie Bornholm and Lisa Yarborough and Brooke Galloway and ... And to make things easier for her for when she goes home, you also make sure to mention Yumi's older brother and her younger sister.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Its awkward start notwithstanding, the date seems to have done the new Yumi a lot of good—she's a lot more relaxed at the end of it than when it started.<br/>
<br/>
And that's good, because your own nerves are shot from trying to surreptitiously educate her about her new self. After an hour, you finally have to excuse yourself to the restroom to gather up your strength.<br/>
<br/>
James is loitering just outside when you come back out, reading some flyers pinned to a corkboard. "Hey," he says with a sharp glint in his eye. "Are we all four supposed to go somewhere after this, or can we go off two-by-two instead?"</span></div></div>


path: 11331211121121111111321213232231111121321221112111111213
author_id: seuzz
title: Trading Confidences
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Thanks for coming out with us," you tell James. You squeeze his forearm. "But this was enough for me tonight. I'll probably just gonna go hang out with Yumi, though. I wanna talk to her about how things went."<br/>
<br/>
James hides his disappointment by glancing back at the table. "So that <i>was</i> a date?"<br/>
<br/>
"For them two." You squeeze his arm again. "Thanks again for coming along."<br/>
<br/>
His mouth is all twisted up when he rounds back on you. "So this was a favor I did for you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh ... Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Can I ask you to do me a favor?"<br/>
<br/>
You fight the urge to swallow hard. "Well, sure. Any time. Like what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like turnabout? Like, if <i>Carson</i> goes on a date and he wants someone along you'll come along with me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh. Sure!"<br/>
<br/>
"Because you never know." James's glance turns satiric and knowing. "If Prescott can get <i>Yumi</i> out on a date, Carson could still find <i>somebody,</i> right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. And you could too." You pinch the front of his pullover, but he only rolls his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on," he sighs. "Can we wrap things up back there? You say you're exhausted, and I'm about to cut my arm off and bleed all over 'cos I'm so bored."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So you all part, with James going off in one direction while Will gives you and Yumi a ride back to the school. Yumi flinches a little when you grasp her by the arm after he's driven off, but she looks relieved when you ask if you can follow her back to her place.<br/>
<br/>
Then she fusses around inside her car until you pull away in yours, which is okay, because you intended all along for her to follow you to her new home.<br/>
<br/>
Yumi's mother has a few sharp words for the girl she thinks is her daughter, about getting her weekend homework done before she's allowed to go out and goof off, but you jump in to answer that that's what you've been working on all evening. "You owe me," you mutter to Yumi as you pull her toward her bedroom. Out of the corner of your eye you watch as she gives her room a quick frightened glance over from the doorway before following you in.<br/>
<br/>
You brought your school bag in with you, so you dump it on the floor and suggest that you actually get some work done. "Besides," you add as you spread out some math homework, "I want to talk to you."<br/>
<br/>
"About what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dur! About Will! Come on, get some work out so we can talk."<br/>
<br/>
She is very slow to comply, and sorts through her books as though they are new and strange to her—which they are—while you fiddle impatiently. Once you've each got some paperwork in front of you—you with Calculus, her with some English—and can pretend that you're only gossiping casually while doing schoolwork, you look up at her from under a lowered brow and put it directly. "So. Will. Are you interested?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," she says, sounding mulish and resentful.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, Yumi. Who are you holding out for? It's no one who would have asked you out, because he'd have asked you already and you'd have said yes."<br/>
<br/>
That's another one of those jibes that would have earned you a pop in the jaw from the real Yumi But this one just gets a queer look on her face. "Well, who do <i>you</i> see me with, Jenny? I mean," she adds with sudden animation, "you <i>are</i> my best friend!"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Wow, way to be totally subtle, Chelsea,</i> you think.<br/>
<br/>
"I could see you with lots of guys," you tell her, not wanting to push her too hard toward your beta. You grin. "Tell me some of the ones you'd like me to <i>say</i> I could see you with."<br/>
<br/>
She makes a face. "Just pretend there's no one," she retorts. "Tell me who I should be holding out for."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, Yumi." You roll onto your side with a groan. "You never talk about things like that. There <i>have</i> been guys who've asked you out, though. Right?"<br/>
<br/>
She hesitates. Then with a wicked smile she says, "Not as many as you probably think."<br/>
<br/>
"No?"<br/>
<br/>
"No." Now she turns onto her side. "I think I scare them off."<br/>
<br/>
"You can be pretty scary," you cautiously agree. <i>Where is Chelsea going with this?</i> you wonder.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, yeah!" she says. "You know, I like to tell myself that I just don't like taking shit from people. But, you know—" <br/>
<br/>
She breaks off. Then her eyes widen at a thought, and the corners of her mouth twitch. "I'm <i>really</i> insecure about myself," she simpers with a kewpie smile.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God.</i> "No."<br/>
<br/>
She nods. "But for true." The smile fades and her gaze goes distant. "I've got so much pressure on me. You know, Chinese tiger mom and all that."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yumi is Japanese, Chelsea. She'd disembowel anyone who called her "Chinese."</i><br/>
<br/>
"I mean, you heard my mom out there," she continues. Her tone turns cramped and hectoring. "I get that <i>all the time.</i> She makes me feel like I'm just not good enough, that I just don't deserve happiness. I think it really affects my self-image and self-confidence." She nods.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" You feel a giggle bubbling up inside you.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. A lot of the time when I'm being nasty— Look, I'll admit it, Jenny, I can be a total bitch. Right? You can tell me, I know it's true. Anyway," she continues when you don't reply, "me being a bitch, that's usually me chasing away happiness. Because I don't deserve it." She presses her lips together primly, and nods again.<br/>
<br/>
"Wow," you say after you've half-suffocated yourself by stifling the giggles. "That's a pretty, um, amazing confession to just drop on me."<br/>
<br/>
Fright shows momentarily in her eyes, then she screws a smile onto her face and grabs your arm in a claw-like hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I'm just teasing. Or am I? It serves you right for asking me about all the boys I've <i>turned down.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, you got me. I won't ask about them. But what about Will?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Well. Will." She shrugs and avoids your eye.<br/>
<br/>
"Guys like Will can sometimes surprise you, you know. Creep up on you. One day they're just the dumb guy you've known since middle school, and then the next day they're this hot biscuit, and you're just now noticing it because you were thinking of them as, you know, like—"<br/>
<br/>
You falter as Yumi turns back onto her stomach and scoots up at you with a smile.<br/>
<br/>
"That sounds like something that's happened to <i>you,</i> Jenny," she says. "Who was it?"<br/>
<br/>
You feel yourself blushing. "No one."<br/>
<br/>
"Bullshit. You can't talk about something like that if you haven't, you know, felt it!"<br/>
<br/>
Has Jenny felt this way? <i>Jesus,</i> you think with a sudden stab of surprise. <i>She has!</i><br/>
<br/>
"Okay, fine," you tell her. "But it's no one in particular. It's with lots of guys, and it's not like—"<br/>
<br/>
"Who?" she insists. "Name one."<br/>
<br/>
Prickles of horror break out all over you. "Truth or Dare?"<br/>
<br/>
She stares, then bursts out laughing. "Sure! Truth!"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, one name. But that's all." Yumi nods impatiently. "Okay. Cole Parker."<br/>
<br/>
"When?" She grins eagerly. "When did you notice he's—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Start of the year," you reply. "It was weird, and that's how come I noticed it sometimes happens the way I said it does, that they just kind of creep up on you. 'Cos, you know, I saw him over the summer, over at Eva and Jessica's, and didn't think anything of him. You remember, you were over there with us lots."<br/>
<br/>
She nods.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyway, so I've known Cole since sixth grade. He was a goofball, always acting like he was high, like he'd busted a lungful behind the school. Like he thought being stoned on weed made you cool so that's the way he tried to act. Then, you know, <i>Jesus.</i>" You shake your head at the memories you're pulling up. "Then in middle school he totally <i>did</i> start doing weed. And he got tall and lanky, and his hair all exploded out so he looked like a frizzy lollipop. So I still thought he was, like, a goof. Because he was." You shrug.<br/>
<br/>
"So how'd he change?" Yumi leans forward eagerly.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, he got onto the school soccer team a year or two back, and he cleaned up his act. I think Marc must have helped straighten him out or something. But it still didn't change him as far as I was concerned. Until—"<br/>
<br/>
You squirm under Yumi's gleeful stare.<br/>
<br/>
"So I was looking in one of the classrooms at the start of the year, looking for someone, and there was this hot guy"—inwardly you choke on the words—"sitting up near the front of the room. I don't know what made him seem so hot. Like, something about the way he was sitting, like he owned his space. And he caught me looking at him and he just nodded and he said 'Hey Jenny' and that's when— God, it's so crazy to think it happened this way, but I swear to God it did. But that's when I realized it was Cole. He just seemed so different I didn't recognize him for a moment. But then I realized he'd been looking like that even when I saw him up at Eva and Jessica's."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi looks like she's about to burst with glee. "So why didn't you notice it when you saw him there? That he was—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh." You sniff and shrug with embarrassment. "Well, it was at Eva and Jessica's house when I saw him, and he was with Marc, naturally. And, you know, everyone looks like a goofball next to Marc."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi gapes, then bursts out laughing, and she only laughs harder when you tell her to shut the fuck up.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You stay as late as you dare, so that Chelsea can go straight to bed while minimizing contact with Yumi's family. In the morning she should have Yumi's memories, and then she'll be alright.<br/>
<br/>
But when the next morning dawns, it's to a text from Jessica: <i>help us w deanna today.</i></span></div></div>


path: 113312111211211111113212132322311111213212211121111112131
author_id: seuzz
title: Birthday Surprises
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>help us w deanna today,</i> reads the text from Jessica. Is that a request or a command?<br/>
<br/>
<i>u rly need me?</i> you type, but delete it before sending it. With the stink Josiah has been making about giving up Chelsea's mask, it seems like a good idea to keep on everyone's good side by helping out every chance you get. <br/>
<br/>
<i>can do whats the plan?</i> you text back, and kick off the sheets as you wait for Jessica's reply, letting the cool morning air flow and drape softly over you. You feel yourself falling asleep again when your phone chimes: <i>no plan yet but stay loose. will call when no more.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>sounds good,</i> you reply, then scramble for the shower.<br/>
<br/>
Jenny never takes long to clean up, and you're very brusque and business-like this morning with the suds and the washcloth and the quick, violent toweling when you emerge into the steaming bathroom. After wrapping yourself in terrycloth bathrobe, you scamper back into the bedroom to check texts again.<br/>
<br/>
But Jessica is silent as you dress out in track pants, a t-shirt, and ratty sneakers. You rub the worst of the moisture from your hair and pull it back into a business-like ponytail, then text Jessica to let her know you're all set to help out, that she just has to send you the word.<br/>
<br/>
But your plans are nearly derailed when Mr. and Mrs. Ashton surprise you at the breakfast table with a stack of pancakes with a candle in the middle of them. "Happy birthday!" they exclaim.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So where do you want to go for dinner tonight?" Jenny's dad asks as—all embarrassed—you tuck into the birthday pancakes while he and his wife watch.<br/>
<br/>
You swallow a mouthful with a great gulp. "Um, James and some of the guys were talking about taking me out tonight," you reply. Now you're glad of James's party idea—if it will get you out of a mortifying birthday dinner with Jenny's family.<br/>
<br/>
But then it occurs to you that you haven't heard any more from him about that "party" idea. Is it still on?<br/>
<br/>
Mr. Ashton's expression falls. "It's your eighteenth birthday, honey," he says. "I was kind of hoping—"<br/>
<br/>
"Charles," Mrs. Ashton says in a warning tone.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry," you plead. "Only James was talking about— Lunch?" You look between Jenny's parents. "How about lunch instead? Can we do that?"<br/>
<br/>
Mr. Ashton looks disappointed, and even Mrs. Ashton looks a little wan behind her smile.<br/>
<br/>
"That sounds like a great idea," she says. It <i>is</i> her eighteenth birthday," she tells her husband, "you can't blame them if all her friends want to take her out—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, lunch," he says. "But can we make it special? How about Taco Famoso?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dad!" Taco Famoso is locally infamous for its bad—even noxious—Mexican food. It only stays open (Mr. Ashton has joked) because someone has to be the worst restaurant in town and Taco Famoso drew the short straw. "That's not where you were going to take me for dinner, were you?"<br/>
<br/>
"It was going to be my second choice."<br/>
<br/>
"And what was your first?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ristorante Locarno?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Wow.</i> From the crappiest to the best restaurant in town. "Can we go there for lunch?"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you sure you don't want a Famoso quesadilla?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think that's where James and them are going to take me."<br/>
<br/>
Mr. Ashton laughs, and that settles lunch plans.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After breakfast you call Jessica to warn her that you won't be able to help until early afternoon, and she says they'll try to take that into account. "Why do you need me?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Because we're not sure if <i>we're</i> going to be able to get away to help," she replies. "You're not the only one with a family life, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you going to be able to make it to my party tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
"What party?"<br/>
<br/>
"The one I told you about last week! For my birthday! The one that James—"<br/>
<br/>
"Is that still on? Because I haven't heard any more about it."<br/>
<br/>
"I better be having a party! It's my excuse for having lunch instead of dinner with—" You shove your bedroom door closed and lower your voice. "With Jenny's parents."<br/>
<br/>
"You still call them 'Jenny's parents'? Jesus, our parents have been 'mom and dad' now for—"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you call Marc?"<br/>
<br/>
"Our goofball brother. Do you want him along tonight? If that party's still on?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think it's on, but I better make sure. Bring him along, sure, if it is."<br/>
<br/>
"Because he's bound to bring Hannah along if does. Fuck, did Eva tell you about what happened the other night, while the rest of us were out and they were here alone?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think so."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, remind her to tell you. Here's a preview. Marc and Hannah, in his bedroom, when they thought they had the house to themselves."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God. No!"<br/>
<br/>
"Totally. It's even grosser than you can imagine. Wait, sounds like we're about to go. Text one of us when you're done with lunch." She hangs up.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Lunch is pleasant and low-key, though there is one moment of tension when your phone chimes and you have to turn it off because your dad wants you to himself on this very special day. Because you don't want to ruin things for him, you linger instead of rushing through the meal, and let him take you and your mom on a drive through the hill country west of town. You have the impression he'd like to do more, but Mrs. Ashton makes an excuse to get you back to town.<br/>
<br/>
After that, it's almost a relief to check your phone and find the lunchtime text came from Josiah, saying that it's up to you to get Deanna someplace where you and he can make a mask and a replacement.<br/>
<br/>
Deanna's stock in trade in gossip—which is mainly why Jenny dislikes her so much—and you're at a loss on how to bait her into a meeting until you remember that tidbit Jessica dropped about Marc and Hannah being "gross" up in his bedroom. So you text Deanna to ask what she's heard about that. <i>nothing,</i> she texts back, and adds a breathless-sounding, <i>whats the story?<br/>
<br/>
meet me at top shelf storage in hour,</i> you reply. She pesters you for more, but you put her off with <i>no time now talk then.</i> After that you text Josiah to finish setting things up.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you want to be Deanna for?" you ask when you connect with him outside the climate unit some forty minutes later. He's looking more rabbity than usual; you'd swear his tiny pink nose is quivering with excitement, and his unblinking stare unnerves you. "She's such a nitwit."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't ask why you wanted to be Jenny," he retorts. "She's a fucking toast rack."<br/>
<br/>
You give him a dirty look. "Is it on account of her boobs?" you ask as you tap in the door code. "There's girls with better boobs than Deanna. What about Genesis Lee? Or Susie L? They're sweet, and they gotta melons you couldn't fit in both hands."<br/>
<br/>
"Why don't you just shut the fuck up?"<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck is the matter with you? I know you're pissed at me 'cos I made you get out of Chelsea's mask—"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you need me for if you're gonna answer your own fucking questions?"<br/>
<br/>
You come <i>this freaking close</i> to hauling off and punching him. "Look, let's just try to get along," you tell him in a voice coiled with fury. "At least, let's just get this job done without killing each other. I don't like Deanna and you don't like me, so after we do this thing how about we just don't have anything to do with each other?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds great." He yanks open the door and stalks off toward Carlos's studio without waiting for you.<br/>
<br/>
So it's a tense thirty-minute wait before Deanna shows up, during which you silently cruise the internet on your phone. You feel a flood of relief when you get the text from Deanna: <i>im here were r u?</i> You go out to meet her, and instantly she starts pestering you: "What's all the mystery?"<br/>
<br/>
"No mystery," you tell her. "I've got some storage stuff I'm having to move, and it makes sense to talk to you out here. I don't want to do it over texts or over the phone."<br/>
<br/>
"It sounds mysterious, Jenny," she insists. You give her a sidelong glance.<br/>
<br/>
She's trying to beguile you with a smile, which would work better if it wasn't rolled up inside a doughy face. Not that Deanna is fat, exactly, but she does carry lots of soft poundage, particularly on her hips. Maybe that's why Josiah wants her: she's squishy with femininity.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I don't want it getting any further," you tell her, "on account of Eva would be really pissed at me. But she's not telling me what happened anyway. But Marc and Hannah—"<br/>
<br/>
You improvise a story about Marc and Hannah getting up to no good in his bedroom. You don't have to work at it long, though, because it takes you less than a minute to get down to Carlos's studio, and you're just starting to weave in a bit about bedsprings when you round the corner. <br/>
<br/>
Almost you walk into disaster, for Josiah springs at you with a mask. You jump aside with a yip before he can connect, and he catches himself, but you bump into Deanna as you dive away. There's a brief and confused scramble before you wage in to grab the girl about the torso. You only know it's all over when you feel her dragging you down to the concrete.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck. Oh, fuck!" you exclaim as you pull yourself from the wreckage; Josiah more nimbly springs up and leans over his alias-to-be. Deanna lolls on the floor with her mouth and eyes open.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, you can fuck off now," Josiah tells you. "I can handle it from here."<br/>
<br/>
"Good. I'm gone." You brush yourself off and turn toward the door.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, but hey," he calls after you. "I heard you're having a birthday party tonight."<br/>
<br/>
"Who told you that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Carlos. Dur. So where's it at, what time? I wanna show up as her." He points to Deanna.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1133121112112111111132121323223111112132122111211111121311
author_id: seuzz
title: Gag Gifts and Otherwise
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Josiah? At your birthday party? In Deanna Showalter's face? "I thought we were going to fucking avoid each other after this," you say.<br/>
<br/>
He grins, and now he looks more like a rat than a rabbit. "You told Carlos you were having a party. I think I should be there too."<br/>
<br/>
<i>I don't even know if there's going to be a party!</i> you almost yell at him. But probably there is. And, anyway, you need an excuse for not going home tonight.<br/>
<br/>
"I have to call some people," you grumble at him. "I don't know what's going on. I'm not the one who planned it!" you add when Josiah makes a face at you.<br/>
<br/>
And since you don't want to spend any more time with him than you have to, you tell him that you'll text "Deanna" later with details, and stalk out of the unit.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Son of a bitch!</i> You cuss under your breath all the way out to your car, and your fingers are twitching hard as you try texting James. You have to remind yourself not to vent your fury on him. <br/>
<br/>
<i>wats plans fr tongith?</i> you ask him. After ten minutes pass without an answer, you drive off and find a strip mall to park in front of so you won't run into "Deanna" when she emerges from the storage complex.<br/>
<br/>
<i>what make syou think thres plans?</i> James replies when he finally finds time.<br/>
<br/>
<i>wernt u planing a party? my b-day?<br/>
<br/>
i though u didnt want one.</i><br/>
<br/>
You throw your head back and yell at the car ceiling. Then you type: <i>dont make me beg.</i><br/>
<br/>
He sends back a winking emoji and a laughing emoji, then asks who and how many you want to come. You tell him you want Eva and Jessica and Cindy there, then after a moment's thought you add Yumi's name and Will's name—you want to see how Chelsea is doing in the mask, and it would be a good chance to lobby some more for her to hook up with your beta. <i>plus maybe one or two i can't think of,</i> you add to cover for Deanna without mentioning  her name. He counter-proposes some names of his own which you accept, and says he'll get back to you.<br/>
<br/>
You keep texting James, until it's settled that you'll all meet at Balducci's for pizza.<br/>
<br/>
And speaking of Yumi and Chelsea ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I haven't been able to spend any time with her," Maria Vasquez tells you when you talk on the phone a little later. "She was really freaked out at first, and she drove off and wouldn't take any of my calls. And I haven't seen her at all today."<br/>
<br/>
"Haven't you at least heard from her?" you ask. You feel a surge of guilt and horror: What if Yumi has done something to herself?<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, I texted her this morning. She told me she was going to be busy so she couldn't see me. I talked to Gloria and Kendra, and they told me they haven't heard anything from her either. I suspect she's off by herself trying to get used to the idea that she's suddenly now Chelsea Cooper."<br/>
<br/>
That would make sense, but before you reflect more fully on what Yumi is likely to do, Maria asks you about Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
"I spent all yesterday with her," you report. "I, uh, took her on kind of a double-date. Me and James Lamont, her and, uh, my beta." You cringe, for you haven't told Fairfax or any of the others about your plan to trick Chelsea into dating you. "Then I spent the evening with her, doing homework, keeping her from getting in trouble."<br/>
<br/>
"How did she handle it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty well, I guess. I get the impression she was trying to pick my brain, trying to get, you know, information about Yumi's family and about her friends so she could, I guess, fake her way through things. I helped her. It seems funny that Yumi didn't try the same thing."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe she did, just not with me. Did you get together with Chelsea today?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I had family plans. And then"—you make a face—"I had to help Josiah with Deanna."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, I heard."<br/>
<br/>
You tense. "Yeah? What did he say?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just that it went off okay and he wants me to come out to the complex later. Why, was there a problem?"<br/>
<br/>
You hesitate. "No," you tell him with a sigh. "Only, we're not each other's biggest fans right now."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you don't have to do anything with him if you don't want. Josiah's job is to listen from a distance, to see what other people are saying about it all, while we stay close to the girls to observe.<br/>
<br/>
<i>So that's why he picked Deanna,</i> you think. It would make sense, since Deanna talks and gossips with so many people.<br/>
<br/>
But Philip is still talking: "If you've got nothing else going on, can you try to get together with Yumi today? To see how Chelsea has adjusted to getting the memories?"<br/>
<br/>
"I should see her tonight. It's, uh, my birthday, and a bunch of the guys are throwing a party for me."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Happy birthday."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks. I'd have you out there too but, y'know. Maria." You grit your teeth. "I'll see Deanna out there, though. Josiah wants to be there."<br/>
<br/>
"He must already be trying to get into character," Maria says, in a tone even drier than usual. "Funny."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Well, open it," Carson honks after dropping a small package wrapped in newspaper onto your plate. He plops into a chair at the end of the table and locks his gaze onto the TV hanging in the corner of the dining room. "I paid good money for it."<br/>
<br/>
You're at Balducci's, the city's premier pizza place. Four tables have been pushed together to the half-dozen of your friends that are already there, and the half-dozen expected to arrive shortly.<br/>
<br/>
It's a gag gift Carson has brought you—a bottle of blowing bubbles—to go with the small, stuffed Tigger that Paul Davis has given you. Those are the only presents so far, which is fine with you. It's enough to have friends and food, and the volume steadily rises as more people crowd in: Eva and Jessica and Cindy, Deanna and Meghan Faris and Jamie Bornholm, Caleb and Keith and Will. The latter two are fakes, of course, and it gives you a queer turn to watch them goofing off with the oblivious Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
And then there's Yumi. You made sure to save the seat next to you for her.<br/>
<br/>
She's very serene and sunny as she sweeps in, and she gives you a big hug before settling in at your side. She chats gaily and confidently with her friends; makes a few snarky remarks about her brother, who was being a pest all afternoon while she was trying to get ready; and she brushes away all talk about the cheerleader squad when Jessica obliquely raises it. You could almost forget that she isn't the real Yumi.<br/>
<br/>
Almost.<br/>
<br/>
But when she excuses herself to use the restroom after most of the pizzas have been consumed, you make a point of following her. You catch her at the sink, brushing her bangs back and checking her makeup. She gives you a quick smile that is a little too knowing for your comfort. "Happy birthday," she tells you again.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks. Um, did you talk to Will any more today?"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't talk to him at all." She turns back to the mirror. "Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was just wondering. You know, I didn't want to push you last night, after your date with him."<br/>
<br/>
She spares you a half glance and a little less than half a smile. "Why are you suddenly the matchmaker, Jenny?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I don't mean to be."<br/>
<br/>
"You told me it wasn't a date. You told me you just wanted me to boost his confidence. You know." She straightens out her blouse. "So he could get it up enough to get himself a real girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh." You feel yourself crimsoning. "Well, yeah. But—"<br/>
<br/>
"So do you or don't you think that <i>I</i> could be that real girlfriend?" A dimple shows in her cheek as her smile turns sly.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, um ... Are you interested in him?"<br/>
<br/>
She puts her makeup away before answering. "I guess I could be persuaded, Jenny," she says, but she avoids looking you in the eye until she adds, "But don't you think <i>he</i> should be the one doing the persuading?" She pushes you away and breezes back out the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I have no idea what it might mean, Will," Maria tells you. It's Sunday afternoon and you're supposed to meet the other guys up at Carlos's studio for a conference, but so far it's only you and Fairfax. "Was she acting more like Yumi or more like Chelsea, in your opinion?"<br/>
<br/>
While waiting for the others, you broke down and told Fairfax your plan to maneuver Chelsea (as Yumi) into dating your beta. To your surprise, he accepted the idea without arguing, so you followed up by telling him of your restroom conversation with her. <br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," you confess. "That's why I'm asking you. Is Chelsea the sort to fuck around like that?" <br/>
<br/>
Maria  contemplates the ceiling. <br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," she admits. "Whichever way things go, it would be fascinating to see what happens. A real test of character. But you know," she adds after a moment's thought, "if you really want to push her and your beta together, you should do it through someone other than Jenny."<br/>
<br/>
You blink. "I can get Eva and Jessica to push it, I guess."<br/>
<br/>
She shakes her head. "Someone else. You'll want a second beta anyway. Think about someone who could exercise some influence on, uh, Yumi."<br/>
<br/>
"Like who?"<br/>
<br/>
After twenty minutes of talk—for the others are very late—you come up with four names ... and a whole school of other candidates.<br/>
</span></div></div>


