# chapters

path: 11121113211222221222222122121121
author_id: trimtom233
title: Melanie Heath
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>While the prospect of being a man that girls swooned over was tempting, the Evie thoughts in your head were quite consuming. Never before has Evie realized her jealously of her own best friend was this great. Those blue eyes, those golden locks, the boyfriend, and the bigger cup sizes, were everything Melanie had, which Evie didn't. <br/>
<br/>
"Hey do you want to come sleep over at my place tonight? It's saturday and we haven't had one in a long time." Was the first sentence that popped into your head, as Melanie and Evie both been sleeping over at each other's houses during slumber parties and various other times since Middle School. "Yeah sure that would be fun, but let me text my Mom to confirm it with her" replied Melanie. "Cool, can you come over around 9 tonight? I'm having a family friend over." You lied. You just needed time to make another mask for the swap. <br/>
<br/>
As you lied through your teeth you couldn't help but feel an Evie thought emerge. -This was your best friend and you're getting her into this huge mess as well as the real Evie. It was one thing masking a complete stranger, another to do it to one's best friend. And you realize if Evie alone had these masks she never would have stooped to the point of basically stealing her best friends life and body. But thankfully it wasn't Evie in control rather Will/Evie and that was just enough for you to decide to go through with it. You let out a devilish but cute smile.<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly Melanie walks out behind her car, which she used to call her Mom from and smiles "Yeah, she's okay with me spending the night tonight!". "Wicked." You reply, a stupid habit Evie picked up after re-watching a few Harry Potter movies last weekend. "I'll see you at 9!"<br/>
<br/>
8:42 pm that night you are laying on Evie's bed, on your belly with your feet in the air, browsing her Facebook photos. You are scrolling through all the pictures of Evie and Melanie. You look at pictures of them both posing on a beach in their bikinis when Evie and Melanie flew out to California to visit Melanie's father. The picture of them two wearing Micky Mouse ears in front of Disney Land, the time when they went on a chorus trip in middle school. All of it you vividly remembered as if you actually went to these events. You smile as you think about where your new life will take you. You know exactly where this new life will take you and you're quite excited.<br/>
<br/>
You then type in "Devon Mervil" on Facebook once again to get another look at Melanie's boyfriend of 7 months. He's cute, your Evie self realizes. A tall boy with long brown hair who practices track on the Eastman's running team. Your jealousy boils up again when you remember all the times Melanie has hummbly bragged about his penis size (and the fact that she's actually had sex with him.) Something Evie has yet to do with any boy. But the feeling subsides when you realize you're going to be the one who will be dating him soon enough. You pull up a picture of his profile pic and grab your right breast, and bite your lip. You want to touch yourself and you havethe  time because you finished making the mask in record time this afternoon. But Melanie will be here any minute...</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211212
author_id: kim233
title: Slip your hands down your underwear.
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You needed this you realize, Evie Cummings hardly ever masturbates but the excitement is too much. You slip your hands down your pink pajama bottoms and then your floral panties. You feel the short but curl pubic hair that Evie lets grow freely, and insert a single finger into your pussy. Devin Mervil's smiling face stares back at you and you quickly pick up the pace. You're trying to keep your voice down to avoid letting the parents know, when you're jolted up by the sound of the doorbell. You swear and pull your index finger out of you and wipe the stickiness on your PJs before bolting down the stairs. <br/>
<br/>
"Hey Eve!" says a smiling Melanie with a backpack and pillow under her arm. She waves to her mom as she drives off before you invite Melanie into your home. "So did you bring the DVD?" you chirp. "Yup" she says as she reaches into her backpack and pulls out '13 going on 30' case. A movie Evie and her both love and watch quite often. "Oh Hi Melanie how've you been dear?" calls out Evie's Mother from the living room. "Good, Mrs. Cummings! Its nice to see you too!" she calls back. "Moooooom" you say. "You said you'd let me and Melanie have the living room when she comes." Your new mother agrees and heads up stairs. "I'll heat up some Popcorn." you state when she leaves.<br/>
<br/>
You both are sprawled out on the couch with various snacks spread across the tables watching the movie when Melanie looks up from her cell phone and says" I always found this movie fascinating." She's referencing the main character of the movie. "What do you mean?" you reply. "Oh just the fact that the magic lets her turn into a completely new person, and lets her live a whole new life." "Yeah it is really cool, but also really weird. Could you imagine waking up as someone else?" You're quite interested in this conversation now. "Well yeah, that would be fun actually to be older like that," she states. You can't help but let out a small laugh.<br/>
<br/>
When the movie is over you both head up stairs to your room, you're certain now Evie's parents are asleep and won't wake up or bother you now. As Melanie sits down on your bed turned away from you, you quietly pull up the night stand drawer to reveal the mask you had your clone drop off. You reach in to take the mask then slowly sneak up behind your victim when you reach around her to jam it onto her face. Suddenly Melanie lets out a loud "Eve!" and swats the mask out of your hand and stands up. "What was that?" You haven't fully realized until now (thanks to Evie's mannerisms) but Melanie stands a good 7 inches above your 5'2 frame. You bite your lip and think....</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122
author_id: seuzz
title: Stalking a New Body
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're going to need another mask, no matter what direction you move in, so you drive out to your old neighborhood. Caleb isn't at the community center, and you almost call him so he can come out and keep you company -- and maybe do a little of the work for you -- but you decide to leave him out of it. He'd probably just yell at you for wanting to make <i>another</i> jump.<br/>
<br/>
In fact, you decide not to tell him what you're doing. Let him think that you made a jump directly into -- Well, into whoever you decide to make the jump into.<br/>
<br/>
And that means there's going to be a fourth victim of this mask madness. Gordon into your life, Dane into Gordon's, Evie into Dane's, and someone else into Evie's. You better make this next one count, you tell yourself firmly.<br/>
<br/>
So you give it a lot of thought as you make and polish up another mask with the car buffer. And when you get to the end of it, you have settled on Bhodi Weaver.<br/>
<br/>
You think. You're pretty sure. Yeah, it'll be him.<br/>
<br/>
You have the impression -- from Evie's impressions, at least -- that he'd be a familiar kind of place, sort of like Evie herself, only more so because (dur!) he's a guy. He's been part of her group since middle school, being dorky right alongside them, being into videogames and comic books and even some RPGing. He's still really into the first two, and he takes art classes and he likes to draw comic book kind of stuff -- superheroes and like that. He's kind of shy and kind of gawky, and he gets these enthusiastic fits where he doesn't pay any attention to what he's saying or how he's saying it. <br/>
<br/>
Hell, if he was two years older, he'd probably be a friend of yours.<br/>
<br/>
But he's also got advantages that you didn't have as a sophomore, and that you still don't have now. He's actually on a sports team -- the JV soccer squad -- and he seems pretty good at it. He's got some physical development, and he's working out to get more. There's a pretty good chance that by the time he's a senior he'll have the kind of physique that the big varsity guys, like Patterson and Delacroix and Marc Garner, all have.<br/>
<br/>
Wait, are you really thinking of sticking it out as this guy for another two or three years?<br/>
<br/>
Anyway, beyond that, there's the in he's got with the girls, even if he doesn't realize it. The way some of them crush on him, calling him "Teh Body" behind his back, and giggling. Knowing that a girl wants you is half the battle, isn't it? You just have to collect your prize, right?<br/>
<br/>
So occupied, it doesn't feel like it takes you long to finish the mask. You then make up the raw metal band for copying Bhodi's brain and pack everything you'll need for the ambush. Then, after making one more quick stop for a vital bit of clothing, you go home, where you spend the evening carving the runes into the metal band and affixing it to the mask.<br/>
<br/>
But you take along something else from the basement, which you leave packed in the trunk of Evie's car.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You smile tightly at Andy as he walks toward you. You're sitting in the car, parked near the entrance of the student parking lot, and he has to dodge morning traffic to reach you. Naturally, he saw you as he drove in, and just as naturally he has to come over to talk after he's parked. Guys with crushes do that to girls they've known a long time. You roll down your window before he has to tap on it. "What are you sitting out here for?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Trying to work up the nerve to face the day," you reply. "It's Tuesday." You lost a day when your new mom had to do some stuff for you to do after school yesterday.<br/>
<br/>
"Could be worse, could be Monday," Andy says. He shrugs spastically. "So, we could go in together. Like, two against the world?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll see you inside. I don't want to move, don't want to talk. I kind of want to fall asleep."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh sure. I hear that, too." He shrugs again, takes half a dozen steps backward with a line of worry creasing his forehead. Then he turns, and hops away on long, awkward strides toward the school.<br/>
<br/>
Andy Jensen's not a bad guy, and you'd better get to like him. Because if your plan for the day goes as you intend, by this time tomorrow you'll be wearing the body of his best friend.<br/>
<br/>
But you're not watching for Andy. You're watching for Dane Matthias, and the longer it goes without him showing up, the more nervous you get. If he got himself killed before you have a chance to get him out of trouble with Gary Chen -- Well, you don't know what you'll do, but you'll feel pretty awful about it, you're sure.<br/>
<br/>
Even after the first bell rings at 8:20, you linger, as there are still cars coming in. You tell yourself you'll only wait until 9:05, but to your relief Dane's car rolls in at a quarter till the hour. You duck so he doesn't see you, and watch for him to park.<br/>
<br/>
He's very long in getting out of the car, and he's hunched over, and he looks around furtively once he's out. And he only looks sort-of like Dane, for he's missing the sports jacket, and he walks in short steps instead of long, Bigfoot-like lopes, when he heads toward the school. <i>Poor Evie,</i> you think. But also, grimly and selfishly, <i>Better her than me.</i><br/>
<br/>
After waiting a few minutes to make sure the coast is clear, you get out and hustle over to Dane's car. The back door is unlocked, and into the foot well you shove the other thing you took from the basement: the briefcase with all the weed in it. Then you run toward the school and hide in the library until the end of first period. During the break you go looking for Karl Hennepin and from the puzzled senior get Dane's locker number. You make yourself tardy to second period so you can slip a note into that locker, telling its new owner that "Chen's shit" is in the back of Dane's car. You disguised your handwriting, so you don't think Evie will recognize it as her own.<br/>
<br/>
"What happened to you during first?" Andy asks when he sees you during fifth-period AP Biology. You tell him you fell asleep.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You get more and more nervous as you approach eighth-period Geometry, which Evie shares with Bhodi. It's almost a sexual nervousness. In a way it is, as you're proposing to get extremely intimate with "Teh Body." And, anyway, Evie herself has something of those sexual feelings for him, so they're mixed up with your own sense of anticipation.<br/>
<br/>
He's not even paying attention when you come in, being absorbed in his cell phone, and even when you say "Hey" to him, he doesn't look up. Evie's memories do him a reasonable amount of justice, you suppose. He is tall and broad-shouldered, even if he's all limbs, and he wraps his ankles around the legs of his chair as he hunches forward. He has that slightly unnerving "Indian" look, meaning that he has the chocolate coloring of a Hispanic or Native American, but European features that wouldn't look out of place on an Englishman. His coal-black hair is thick but straight, and he parts it in the middle so that it flops on either side of his forehead before sweeping back to cover his ears. When he looks up, his dark eyes are thoughtful and distracted. "Hey, what are you doing there?" you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh." Bhodi looks away, but shows white teeth in a shy smile. "Nothing. Just texting about what to do after school."<br/>
<br/>
"We should hang out," you tell him. "Just you and me."<br/>
<br/>
He looks startled. "We should?"<br/>
<br/>
"Something wrong with me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh. No!" A plum-colored flush shows in his cheeks. "If you want. Do you want to? What do you want to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Go walking in Suffolk Wilderness, take notes on the birds and the bees?"<br/>
<br/>
He stares, and his eyes widen, and he grins. It's not a grin of happiness, though. It's the green-tinted grin of someone afraid they're going to throw up. "You'll have to give me a ride. I mean -- !"<br/>
<br/>
"I can do that," you say. You meant to ignore the double entendre in "give a ride," but it probably shows in your eyes, and Bhodi looks even sicker, so sick he has to put his head on his desk and cover it with his long arms. Lucky for everyone, class starts right then.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're merciless about keeping that appointment, even though you'd forgotten that Bhodi hasn't got a car. Fortunately, you're prepared, for you thought through the scheme yesterday afternoon, and made the necessary trip and purchase. <br/>
<br/>
So when you park at the Wilderness with the silent Bhodi, you only have to roll down all the windows and pick up Evie's purse and tell him to wait in the car while you make a quick trip to one of the outdoor restrooms they have near the park entrance. You go into the women's bathroom, but you're not a girl when you come out several minutes later. You're Will Prescott again, and you're in a cheap pair of shorts you bought specially at the thrift shop. You circle around the back of Evie's car, and Bhodi doesn't see you before you have the mask onto his face from behind. You crawl back inside the car, strip him of his clothes, stuff them in his bag, and drop Evie's things in his lap. Then, when the mask comes out of him, you put her mask onto him, gather his stuff, and take a long walk on cheap flip-flops into the wilderness.<br/>
<br/>
You'll have to call Caleb to pick you up after the coast is clear.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221
author_id: seuzz
title: Stalking a New Body, Part 2
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're really pleased with the way your plot went off, and can't help congratulating yourself. The only part you didn't anticipate was having to give Bhodi a ride out to the Wilderness, but even that didn't call for a real change in plans. You just had to excuse yourself before making the ambush.<br/>
<br/>
In fact, that's the part that worries you most about this change, and as you jog along in your half-naked state toward a screen of trees, it's what preoccupies you. Evie, you've noticed, is quite level-headed and doesn't panic easily. Bhodi is jumpy like a cat. Are you going to pick up Bhodi's jumpiness while he picks up her cool-headedness?<br/>
<br/>
And that introduces another worrisome thought. Only now does it occur to you that you don't know how much Bhodi is going to remember once he's inside Evie's mask. Your other victims thus far -- Gordon and Dane and Evie herself -- have not been put inside a mask containing a brain band. When Bhodi wakes up, how much will he remember? Will the band have recorded everything that you've been doing inside it, or will it only remember everything up to the minute you got it off of Evie? And if it does record everything, will it have also recorded your thoughts and schemes, so that Bhodi will know what you've been planning? What you're planning now?<br/>
<br/>
<i>Hmm.</i> Evie had a good nerve, but she hadn't got the brains to make up for your own deficiency. You pause on the trail, weighing whether to turn around and call the whole thing off, but quickly decide it's too late for that. You'll just have to bluff your way through on the other side.<br/>
<br/>
You move under the eaves of the forest, and follow the trail about a hundred yards before turning off and striking uphill until you've lost sight of the track below. Even then you scout around until you find a fallen log you can hide behind. There you hunker and drop your gear. From the backpack -- Bhodi's pack, soon to be yours -- you pull out the stuff you'd hurriedly shoved inside it: his clothes, his mask, and the sealant and brush. You work the one into the other, then lie back and put your new face over your old one.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You wake with a jerk, your leg kicking out, and swinging an arm. It's like waking from a nightmare.<br/>
<br/>
Except there is no nightmare to wake from. You've just shocked yourself awake. You spread your hand over your chest and will your heart to stop hammering. You blink and gather your wits and -- <br/>
<br/>
Those aren't your legs. They are very long and brown and have bristly black hairs on the shins and calves. The feet are enormous, with toes that look more like stubby fingers. You raise your hand and examine it. It is long and strong and mocha in color, with gleaming nails. Your arm -- Damn, you've got a bicep! A real one! You stretch your arms, and they go out forever! Kind of like yours do, but even farther. Hair falls over your eyes, and you push it back easily, for although its thick, it is soft and floppy instead of stiff like yours.<br/>
<br/>
Now, if you can just get the brain to work --<br/>
<br/>
And it's like you pushed a button.<br/>
<br/>
It starts at the base of your spine and rises, sending pulses ahead, like the sonar pings of a submarine, to strike the top of your skull. It rolls up between your shoulders and up your neck and over your scalp and washes down over your face like a black flood. You cover your face with your hands as it pours over you, then seeps into you like milk seeping into porous bread. After only a few seconds you are sopping with him.<br/>
<br/>
Bhodi Weaver. He fills your head the way water fills a pool. You're soaking in him, like sponge in a bath. You only have to relax and open yourself to him and -- <br/>
<br/>
Your heart leaps, and three of your four limbs jerk and spasm. Something grabbed you from behind! You were waiting for Evie, it was driving you nuts because she wasn't talking and you couldn't figure out anything to say and what the hell was she planning on doing by taking you out here and -- !<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh yeah.</i> Despite the hammering heartbeats of horror, you relax in the sure knowledge that you've got Bhodi in here with you. You close your eyes and put your head back and think of Evie.<br/>
<br/>
Whoa! You snap your eyes open. The front of your shorts tent, and they tent hard and they tent big. Gingerly you peel them up and look.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh my God, that sausage makes yours look like cocktail weenie! And it's rampant!</i><br/>
<br/>
Oh, Christ, no wonder Bhodi jumps three feet in the air every time a girl talks to him! He's living with King Dong, and it bursts out of its cave with a roar any time a girl so much as smiles at him!<br/>
<br/>
You put your arm behind your head and suck hard on your lower lip as you think of Evie, and of Paulina, and of Kaitlyn and Danielle and Samantha and Leslie and Alexandria and Zoe and of bunches of other girls that you -- Bhodi -- don't know but whose faces and bodies he's studied. You could beat yourself to death while thinking of them; you could beat yourself ten times a day if you had the privacy.<br/>
<br/>
You've got the privacy now, and your free hand almost unbidden goes to your cock and wraps around it ... and it's maybe only twenty seconds before it's barking at the sky and hard spasms are running from your heels to the top of your spine. You have to wipe yourself from your shoulder down to the side of your stomach with a bunch of leaves when you're done.<br/>
<br/>
But at least you spent the tension. You peel off the shorts and throw them away -- you don't need them now -- and pull on Bhodi's stuff. He's a conservative dresser, even in the casual wear, so it's boxers and Levis and ankle socks and Converse sneakers from the waist down; a white t-shirt under a long-sleeve black-and-red plaid flannel shirt up above. No jewelry of any kind, not even a watch. You stand up and stretch and check yourself on your iPhone, turning to look at yourself in profile, and ducking your head to look up from under your brows. You especially like the teeth -- white and strong -- and the way they show up in your brown face. <br/>
<br/>
"Teh Body, huh?" you murmur to yourself. Bhodi has no idea what the girls like to call him behind his back, or the way they talk about him. <br/>
<br/>
But you do.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't keep it quiet as you tramp back down to the trail, or along the trail. But you do slow up when you see the trail head coming up, and you take off across a field of tall grass and circle around the ranger station so you can spy out the parking lot from the side without being immediately obvious. Evie's car is gone.<br/>
<br/>
That looks like a good start, and it looks like a better start when you check your new phone again and see that there are no new calls or texts. You send one to Caleb, asking him to call you back at Bhodi's number. It's ten minutes before he returns it, though, during which you prowl the perimeter of the lot. "Will?" he says guardedly when you answer.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, you know it's me, I told you in the text."<br/>
<br/>
"Where are you? Have you been playing Dane all this time?"<br/>
<br/>
"I've been hiding out," you answer evasively. "But I got a place now -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Because I saw Dane today, and he had a shiner."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Whoa.</i> "No, that wasn't me. But can you come pick me up? I'm up at Suffolk Wilderness."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck are you doing up there?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was with a girl and she took off. Look, it's complicated. I just need a ride back to town."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, okay. But who are you now? The name looks weird on the ID."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll let you see. It's no one we ever heard of before. That makes it perfect for staying out of Chen's way, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever." He sounds unhappy as he hangs up.<br/>
<br/>
And he's not especially happy when he sees you and gets the particulars. "How are we supposed to hang out if you're in the sophomore class?" he demands after you're on your way back into town in his car. "Not to mention, how long are you going to do this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Until I've had some fun. Would you believe all the sophomore girls are in love with this guy?" You have the window down, and are tapping the roof of the car in time to a rocking melody only you can hear.<br/>
<br/>
"You're kidding. What's your pick up line? 'Thank you, come again'?" he asks, imitating Apu from <i>The Simpsons.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Don't be racist, cocksucker. Hey wow, that's right. I'm a minority now. Cool!"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus."<br/>
<br/>
"Also, you should see the sausage on this guy. You know how Keith's always bragging about his? Well, Bhodi -- "<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Ananananana!</i> I don't want to hear it! In fact, where am I taking you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Home, I guess. Unless -- "<br/>
<br/>
Unless Evie is waiting for you there, to confront you. You should go find Andy. Unless Evie's gone to Andy to tell him that she's really his best friend, Bhodi. You should go find Paulina. Unless Evie's gone to see Paulina because she's one of Paulina's best friends.<br/>
<br/>
Dammit. But you're going to have to run into her sooner or later.<br/>
<br/>
"Unless what, Will?"</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211
author_id: seuzz
title: Impressions and Auditions
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What are you doing now," you ask Caleb. "Wanna hang out at the elementary school? I got supplies I hafta take back there."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," he says. "As long as we don't talk about your new cock. I was going to make another mask anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" You grin. "Who for?"<br/>
<br/>
"For me, dipwad." He keeps his eyes on the road, and the muscles in his cheek tighten.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I mean who were you going to -- ?"<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't decided." He glances at you. "How do you know this guy's really that popular with the girls? How did you find him?"<br/>
<br/>
You can't answer any of those questions without telling him about Evie, so you just tell him you heard some girls talking about how they had a serious crush on him, and how they called him "Teh Body." "'Cos his name's Bhodi, see? B-H-O-D-I, and it sounds like -- "<br/>
<br/>
"I get it." Caleb shoots you a skeptical, sidelong look. "And you got inside this guy and found out he's thirty-one kinds of Baskin-Robbins ice cream? Really?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't give me shit, man. This guy's hung like a horse and he's got girls who want it from him."<br/>
<br/>
"You can say the same thing about Patterson."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, Patterson -- " You do a double take. "Whoa. Is that who you're gonna use the mask on?"<br/>
<br/>
He shifts in the seat. "Thinking about it. I was kind of hoping you were going to get Seth Javits or someone like that, someone who could give me a leg up into -- "<br/>
<br/>
"You wanna turn yourself into Steve Patterson?"<br/>
<br/>
"Temporarily! A couple of nights a week." He flushes. "You know, to score with some of the -- I mean, if you think you can use this Hershey bar here to -- "<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, don't be racist, man. I can totally call you out on that shit now, Scandinavia-boy."<br/>
<br/>
"Bite me."<br/>
<br/>
You laugh softly at him, not with him, all the way back to the elementary school.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You and Caleb hang out for a couple of hours, talking a little as you carve runes into two brain bands -- two of them because you both need something to do, and the car buffer would make too much noise to talk over. You give him a quick sketch of Bhodi's life -- how his dad, now a fifty-something tax attorney, met his mom while working in India, brought her back to the US, and had two sons, Bhodi the younger and Jai the older who just graduated from college. <br/>
<br/>
As for your acquired life and its history -- Your impression of these, like your impression of Bhodi's home life, comes as a soft swirl of petal leaves, each with a different face or tiny incident. Mrs. Cunningham, the first-grade teacher who showed you how to add and subtract; Mr. Moon, who tried patiently to teach you piano for a year when you were eight; David Smith, who moved into the house next to yours in the third grade and was your best friend until his family moved again; the two weeks at a Bible camp in the mountains, where you cried out of homesickness, and cried again when you came home to find that Jai had moved to college while you were gone; swimming lessons, and the horror of chlorine you acquired; the move from Missouri to Saratoga Falls, and the anxiety of going to a new school; vomiting up cooked beets in the Schuyler Middle School cafeteria; the trophy your soccer team won in the eighth grade; the first time you saw Paulina, on your first day in the freshman class at Westside.<br/>
<br/>
These don't come in a rush, but occur singly over the hours as one thing or another reminds you of them. Mostly you occupy yourself with thinking about your new friends, and describe them in a halting way to Caleb when he asks if any of Bhodi's friends are close to any girls and thus worth copying into a mask.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," you have to admit. "There'll all kind of dorky still? Like Andy Jensen? I mean, he looks like he's still in seventh grade or something. I dunno, I guess some of the girls might think he's cute, 'cos he's got these big eyes and all."<br/>
<br/>
None of the others seem promising either. Joe Dickerson has a Charlie Brown-sized head. Seriously, it's like a bobble-head, and it's perfectly round, with a huge forehead under his close-cropped hair. But at least he's got a serious brain, which is more than can be said for Grant Lowery, whose goofy manner, comical bug-eyed expressions, and cherry-colored hair make you think of a de-freckled Ron Weasely. Justin Orr, with his long face, thick blonde hair, and blue eyes would be conventionally handsome except for the disfiguring acne that gives his cheeks the color and texture of ripe strawberries.<br/>
<br/>
You sketch these guys briefly for Caleb, mostly so you can dismiss them. But you're able to think of a couple of possibilities. "There's Kieran Matthews, he just moved to town, I've heard some of the girls squealing over him." You struggle for the words to describe him, then snap your fingers. "Hang on, I got a picture of him on my phone. Melanie -- Melanie Heath, I mean -- she wanted a picture of him, so I -- " You scroll through your iPhone until you find it. "Here, that's him." Caleb glances over to eye the picture of a smooth-faced kid with a grave expression, alert eyes, tousled brown locks, a tie-dye t-shirt, and a giant silver pendant hanging from a chain around his neck. "I bet you could get in a clinch with some of the girls if you went to a party as him."<br/>
<br/>
"Parties, huh? I guess that's the way to do it." Caleb flips through a few more photos, stopping on one. "I hate my birthday, I hate my parents, and I do drugs," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh." He was reading the homemade t-shirt of the guy in the picture. "Trask McKinney. Yeah, you don't want anything to do with him. Gets wasted all the time, I hear. That's probably vodka in the plastic cup he's holding."<br/>
<br/>
"What are you doing with his picture?"<br/>
<br/>
"We were at a party and he showed up. I couldn't believe -- Bhodi couldn't believe the t-shirt," you correct yourself. "So he took a picture. It's homemade, the t-shirt I mean, in case you can't tell. It's just a shirt and he used an indelible marker to write the -- "<br/>
<br/>
Caleb has been scrolling through the images, and he interrupts you with a low whistle. "Damn. Who's she?"<br/>
<br/>
"Melanie Heath. I mentioned her. She's at Eastman now."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb looks up with a grin. "Do you know any guys at Eastman I could be?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's got a boyfriend now."<br/>
<br/>
"Excellent. Can I be him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't -- " Then you stop. Tyler Ward does play soccer on the Eastman boys' JV team. You're friends with Melanie. Actually, you probably could swing it. "Write his name down. Maybe I can get to him for you."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb reaches for a scrap of paper and writes "Tyler Ward" on it. "Who was that other guy?" he asks, and writes down "Kieran Matthews" when you tell him. "Who else in here has a hot girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think any of them have <i>girlfriends.</i> Oh, Matthew Adams, write his name down."<br/>
<br/>
"Is he in your phone?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't think so. But he walks around like he thinks he's cute. On account of his hair, I think."<br/>
<br/>
"What's so special about his hair?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. He keeps it short and frosted."<br/>
<br/>
"What about guys on the sports teams? Don't they -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah, there's them!" You clap your hands. "Andrew Webb might work for you. He's on the soccer team." You retrieve the phone from Caleb and scroll through, stopping on one that shows the JV soccer squad. You tap the screen and expand the image. "This guy, he's going to be like the, I dunno, Javits of the sophomore class."<br/>
<br/>
"He doesn't look like Javits."<br/>
<br/>
"I mean 'cos he's so cocky." The kid is smooth and pink, from his strawberry-blonde buzz cut down to his knees, but he lifts his chin and squints arrogant little piggy eyes at the camera over folded arms. "He's going to be the team captain when he's a senior. That's what he's planning on, anyway. Him and his two friends. They say they've got it all planned out, he's gonna be soccer captain and the others are gonna be the football and basketball captains." At your urging he writes down their names too: Aaron Riggs and Elijah Washington.<br/>
<br/>
You're definitely warming up to the idea getting Caleb a mask of someone in the sophomore class, but he shies away, and despite your urging declares more firmly his intention to use a mask on Patterson, or another of that type in the senior class.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's close to dinnertime before you're done with the bands, and you leave after helping Caleb make two masks but before he can start polishing them. You don't need a ride from him, because Bhodi lives in Acheson only a couple of blocks away from the old school. The Weavers aren't rich exactly, but they are comfortably upper middle class. Todd Weaver is a tax attorney, and his wife Darpana runs her own small business -- a maid service. The Weaver house -- no surprise -- is neat and tidy.<br/>
<br/>
But Bhodi is far from spoiled. You were able to come home late only because it was not your night to cook for the family, and after you finish the meal and load the dishwasher and take out the trash, your new mother only has to point upstairs for you to take the hint to go up to do homework.<br/>
<br/>
You check texts as you work, though. Still none from Evie, and your mom said nothing about her coming by after school. Cautiously you sound out Andy and Joe and Justin to see if they've heard from her, then probe at Paulina and Lindsay. From the latter you hear that Evie is texting from home, claiming to be sick.<br/>
<br/>
So far, so good. But it occurs to you that there's one test to make that will settle how safe you are.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111
author_id: seuzz
title: In the Game
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You text Grant, who you've not chatted with yet. <i>txt evie for me, ask who she had lunch w tday.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>y u no ask her?</i> he texts back. <i>fighting? :D</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>no, just cheking on a thing, dont want her know im cheking. pls?</i><br/>
<br/>
The reply comes a couple of minutes later. <i>k. tell me y, tho? ;)</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>tell u after. dont tell her im asking.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>just askd, yr ok, tell me y.</i><br/>
<br/>
He keeps bugging you, and you keep putting him off between math problems, until thirty minutes later he gives you evie's answer: <i>lunch w smantha, zoe, others. so y????</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>not important, its ok,</i> you instantly text back.<br/>
<br/>
<i>FUUUUUUU!!!!!</i><br/>
<br/>
You push the phone away as relief floods over you.<br/>
<br/>
You took lunch alone today -- which is a rare thing for Evie -- so you could check on Dane's car. The case was gone from the back seat, so unless someone stole it, Chen's got his stash again and the real Evie should be reasonably safe. After that you wandered around the back of the school eating as you walked.<br/>
<br/>
But the person answering Evie's texts told Grant that she ate lunch with Samantha Fletcher and Zoe Koch, as Evie usually does. <br/>
<br/>
That must mean that Bhodi is only remembering what Evie does on most days, not what she did today, and that means the mask didn't record anything that you did while in the mask. That's going to make it a lot harder for him to figure out what's going on. <br/>
<br/>
Sure, it will be awkward talking to "Evie," but you're pretty sure you'll be able to bluff your way through.<br/>
<br/>
You finish your homework, then break out some comic books and relax by studying and copying the designs and anatomy into one of the many, <i>many</i> sketchbooks that Bhodi owns.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Since Bhodi doesn't have a car, he carpools with Joe Dickerson and Grant Lowery, paying gas money from his allowance. Grant's cherry-colored head bobs in the back seat as Joe drives up, and he grabs your neck from behind as you get into the front. "Yo, what was all that stuff about Evie last night?" he demands. You twist and punch at him to get free.<br/>
<br/>
"Something going on with Evie?" Joe asks as he cautiously pulls into the street. (He's cautious about everything. It's like he's afraid of breaking that ginormous bobble-head of his.)<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno what you're talking about." You reach behind, grab Grant, slam him face first into the head rest. <br/>
<br/>
"Oof. So why were you all asking who she had lunch with yesterday?"<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos I didn't see her in the cafeteria, wondered what happened to her."<br/>
<br/>
"She said she had lunch with Zoe and Samantha. And why couldn't you ask her yourself?" Then Grant hoots. "Oh, you didn't want her to know you're interested in her, did you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No!" You feel the familiar blush rushing up your cheeks, and the monster stirs inside your jeans. (You filled a sock last night and filled it again this morning, and the thing is still restless.) "It's 'cos I didn't want her <i>thinking</i> I was worried about her!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's what I said!"<br/>
<br/>
You half turn in the seat. "I wasn't worried about her, okay?" you shout. Grant grins idiotically back, and you know the blush is visible all over your face. "And I didn't want her thinking I was. That's why I said don't mention my name! You didn't, did you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe!"<br/>
<br/>
 You grab at him, and the car wobbles as he dives aside. But your arms are long enough that you snag and claw at his shirt. "Ow! Quit it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Serves you right!" You turn back around.<br/>
<br/>
"So if you're not worried about her," Joe asks, "why were you asking about her?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Christ,</i> you find yourself thinking. <i>Dickerson sure has a big forehead. Big and domey, like a space alien's. And he's got little raisin eyes under it.</i><br/>
<br/>
You shrug. "I was just curious."<br/>
<br/>
"Curious in your shorts," Grant chortles.<br/>
<br/>
Now you do turn around to grab him with both hands, and he squeals and kicks and laughs hysterically. You slap him hard once, then turn around again. "Pft. If you seriously wanna give me crap, give me crap about Paulina."<br/>
<br/>
"Paulina?" Grant sits up with a hard gasp. "What up with you and Paulina?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing yet," you brag. "But -- "<br/>
<br/>
Then you flinch, for Joe -- who has stopped at a light -- has turned his whole body to look at you. He lifts a querying eyebrow over a twinkling eye, and his lips pucker in a tiny smile. <br/>
<br/>
"What?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you going to do?" Grant asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm gonna ask her out."<br/>
<br/>
"Out to do what?"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you think to do what? To go on a date! The start of a series, if it works out." You lean back so the monster has room to stretch in your lap.<br/>
<br/>
The car seems to rock with an inaudible laughter. Joe turns around to grin at Grant, who grins back. "What's wrong with that?" you demand. "Is that so -- ?" Bhodi doesn't cuss. "So stupid?"<br/>
<br/>
"Did you take drugs or something this morning?" Grant howls. "Are you high on cold medicine?"<br/>
<br/>
A horrible feeling overwhelms you. Have you misunderstood something? Have those girls actually been laughing <i>at</i> Bhodi all this time? Does everyone think he's a joke? Was Caleb right to be so skeptical that Bhodi Weaver has a lot of feminine admirers?<br/>
<br/>
Your face feels like it's on fire as you gape at your two friends. Or, "friends," as you're starting to think is the case. "Is there something funny here I don't know about?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
Joe and Grant cackle and chortle and snort. "No, nothing funny at all," says Joe, and wipes his eye with the back of his hand. "Good luck. I mean that seriously. It's awesome."<br/>
<br/>
But you sink into the seat and sulk the rest of the way to school.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Bhodi's parents would really like to see him in the AP classes, but nine years of schooling have left them with no real illusions about his academic abilities. First period is the best of the day -- soccer practice. Bhodi has been playing soccer for many years, and however badly puberty has been rocking him -- he's in the middle of a growth spurt, and his arms and legs are still shooting outward -- he hasn't lost it. He's a forward on the Westside boys' JV squad, and can be aggressive without losing control of the ball.<br/>
<br/>
There are only two things that he dislikes about the team -- and they are your dislikes after about fifteen minutes, for the sprints and warm ups have you feeling no separation between yourself and the mind and body of Bhodi Weaver. The first is Andrew Webb. Coach Gellman is in charge, but you wouldn't know it from the way Andrew tries to run things. He points out when people do things wrong, gives advice, acts like his praise is actually worth something. He makes no secret of his ambition -- to be captain of the varsity squad when he's a senior. <br/>
<br/>
And more than one of your teammates has remarked that he probably sees you as a rival. Bhodi long ago noticed that Andrew undercuts him every chance he gets, and it's just getting worse.<br/>
<br/>
The other thing you dislike is the lack of any real camaraderie on the team. Back in Missouri, everyone liked to hang out with each other outside of practice. These guys are mostly loners and hustlers, and they seem to get on each other's nerves. Right now, for instance, you are watching Austin Carpenter and Dylan Riley getting in each other faces over something, bringing the scrimmage to a halt. Andrew -- pink and mottled from running, sprints over to see what the trouble is even before Coach Gellman can get involved. Soon it's a three-way yelling match, ending with Austin throwing up his hands and walking away. Andrew yells at him; Austin gives him the finger. Coach Gellman blows his whistle at the offenders, pulls Austin aside, puts him on the sidelines. Play resumes.<br/>
<br/>
But a few minutes later, the state of play having drawn the ball far off and you close to where Austin is squatting, you ask him what the deal was. You like Austin, and don't believe for an instant that it was his fault, whatever it was.<br/>
<br/>
"Dumbass Dylan," he snorts, and shakes his shaggy brown hair. "Did you see where he lost his cap when he headed the ball?"<br/>
<br/>
"He wasn't supposed to be wearing it."<br/>
<br/>
"That's what I told him, and he told me to fuck off."<br/>
<br/>
"Why didn't Coach see it, take it off him?"<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos Coach is on the other side of the field and he's watching Bobby fuck up."<br/>
<br/>
"What did Andrew say when he ran up? You guys were all fighting."<br/>
<br/>
"He told me to mind my own business, that I'm not running the team."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, jeez. He's one to talk," you snort.<br/>
<br/>
"Tell me about it. And then he turns around and tells Dylan to put the cap in his pocket, so Dylan starts yelling, and then Coach comes over -- "<br/>
<br/>
"So why'd he throw you over here?"<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos I flipped off Andrew. A real nice one, too." He grins sourly, and shows you the bird. "And I didn't tell him what it was about," he says under his breath. "I don't narc."<br/>
<br/>
You just have time to tell him that you think he did okay before the ball comes sailing back in your section, and  you hustle over toward it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Second period: American Government. Another of Bhodi's favorite classes, but largely this time on account of the girls who are in it. Bhodi was shy about showering after soccer practice for the first few days of the semester. But after getting a look at Danielle Decker, Alexandria Hull, Jazmin Colon, and Kaitlyn Page, he doesn't mind getting naked with soap, water, deodorant, and fresh clothes -- folded and packed every day in his gym bag -- before running to Mr. Hartford's classroom.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Girls of Second Period
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>They sit in the front corner of the class, two at the front and two in the seats immediately behind. You take the walk slow so you've got time to look at them as you approach. <i>Oh yeah, those four girls are mighty fine.</i><br/>
<br/>
Kaitlyn Page is in the front corner, primping into her phone. Her hair -- brunette, but it has a dusty texture, as though she's misted some face powder over it -- hangs loose today, framing a square but handsome face. Her smart glasses give her a professional, even a slightly corporate look, as does her dark blouse and slacks, her heeled boots, and the touches of subdued jewelry on her lapel. She gives you a quick look up and down, as though you were a column of numbers. But her instant return to the phone suggests you do not offer a return on interest anywhere close to investment grade.<br/>
<br/>
Immediately opposite her is Alexandria Hull -- a stacked set of contrasts. Her chocolate-colored hair is cut short and clings tightly to her head, like swirls of icing. But her eyes -- big -- are a startling blue. Her heart-shaped face ends in an elfin chin and balances atop a petite body that she keeps tightly wrapped in a boyish short-sleeve work shirts and distressed jeans. She's got her notebook open, and appears to be sketching the cavities of a complicated mechanical device -- perhaps an internal combustion engine.<br/>
<br/>
Behind Alexandria sits Danielle Decker, who as an ethnic composite matches or even surpasses Bhodi. Her skin suggests an African heritage; her bone structure is plainly European; her bowl-cut hair is stereotypically East Asian. But the hair she streaks with blues and purples, and the cheeks she decorates with streaks of yellow and white, like Indian war paint. The latter aren't so noticeable at a distance, but close up they resolve themselves into streaks of glitter. It's also a cut of color and exoticism against her clothes, which are drab blouses and jeans, and her lack of jewelry.<br/>
<br/>
And across from her sits Jazmin Colon, who is as plump and delicious as three scoops of coffee/caramel ice cream. She leans forward in her seat with both elbows on her desk as she texts on her cell, and she casually pops her retainer in and out of her mouth as she does so. Like Kaitlyn, she looks up at you as you pass, but this is a lingering and appraising glance from under dark eyebrows that arch over lazily amused eyes. She sucks her retainer in with a <i>thlock,</i> and smiles widely at you, and turns her head as you pass.<br/>
<br/>
You slide into your usual seat -- two chairs behind Danielle -- and slip down until your chin is almost even with the desktop, and you're practically sitting on your shoulder blades. As you watch, Jazmin pokes Kaitlyn in the shoulder. Kaitlyn half turns, then turns back around. She swipes the screen of her phone to a text, then swipes back to the screen, inside of which you can see a tiny, blurred reflection of the girl herself. She tilts the phone to the side --<br/>
<br/>
And you realize she's using it to look back at  you. <br/>
<br/>
She swipes the screen again and taps in a short text. After a few seconds, Jazmin puts her phone down on the desk and sits back. She tucks a finger into her hair and starts to casually twirl it.<br/>
<br/>
You close your eyes and suck in a groaning breath through your nose.<br/>
<br/>
Then another student -- a guy whose name you don't even know -- sits down between you and her, cutting her off from view. More students cut you off from the other girls. Class starts. But it's enough.<br/>
<br/>
When class is over, you make a point of standing in the aisle as everyone else leaves. Jazmin does a double take at  you over her shoulder, and smiles at you again. After she's got her pack on her shoulders and has brushed her hair out, she turns and slowly walks toward you, smiling up boldly at you. When she reaches you, you cluck your tongue like you're popping out a retainer.<br/>
<br/>
She grins a little harder, and pops her retainer out and holds its tip between her teeth. It's a gross but exciting little fantasy -- bending forward to bite its tip between your teeth, and to slowly suck it from her mouth into yours.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, you put your hands gently on her shoulders, turn sideways, and slide past her through the aisle. You're not so careful -- intentionally not so careful -- that you don't brush against her with the rock-hard member engorging the front of your jeans. Her eyes widen just the tiniest bit -- and then her smile sharpens just the tiniest bit as well.<br/>
<br/>
Then you're past her, and you give her a long chance to watch your ass as you walk out the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After that, you'd really like to skip third and go outside to lean against the wall and gently faint away. But you've got Computer Programming with Mr. Boykin. Andy Jensen is in there, and so is Joe, and that'll make it worth it, since you can totally brag to them about what happened in second.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh man," you say as you drop into the chair next to Andy. "I almost scored with Jazmin last period."<br/>
<br/>
Andy has big eyes -- with his close-cropped blonde hair, they give him a pre-pubescent look -- and they widen even more at this news. His mouth hangs open, and his lip curves up in something halfway between a smile and a sneer. But "No way" is all he can find to say.<br/>
<br/>
"She almost gave me her retainer."<br/>
<br/>
"What?" He bounces back, and a sharp crease slashes down his forehead and between his eyes. "That's disgusting."<br/>
<br/>
"Not the way she tried to give it to me." You grit your teeth against the erection you're giving yourself. "She wasn't using her hands. She just, like, popped it out between her teeth -- " You try miming what she did. "And then, like, I was supposed to take it the same way from her. Like, pulling it out of her mouth by putting my mouth over hers and sucking at it -- "<br/>
<br/>
Andy flies back, flapping his hands in front of his face, and laughing. "That's gross! Like you were going to -- She was going to -- Is that, like, French kissing or something? But with a <i>retainer?</i>" He gasps with laughter.<br/>
<br/>
"What's French kissing with a retainer?" asks Joe, who has sat down on the other side of Andy. <br/>
<br/>
"Bhodi! He says, like, him and Jazmin last period -- She had her retainer? And -- " <br/>
<br/>
You busy yourself with powering up the computer and logging in while Andy tries to explain it to Joe. You notice some of the other students trying to listen in, but ignore them. When you look back, both Andy and Joe are staring at you with incredulous grins on their faces. "I swear, totally true," you say, holding up a slim, brown hand. "She was going to slip me her retainer, mouth to mouth -- "<br/>
<br/>
Andy turns cherry-tomato red and bounces up and down in his chair, laughing. Joe pulls him close and whispers in his ear. Andy's eyes and mouth both pop open, and he turns to stare at you. "No way!"<br/>
<br/>
"What?"<br/>
<br/>
He kicks you. "So who are you going to -- ?" Little spasms run through him. "Jazmin or Paulina?"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean 'or'?" you grin back.<br/>
<br/>
Andy slaps his hands over his face and almost screams. Mr. Boykin has to tell him to be quiet, and class hasn't even started yet.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You almost skip lunch, despite your hunger, because Bhodi shares lunch with Evie, and you are dreading your first encounter with the real Bhodi Weaver. But you will have to get it over with eventually anyway, and you'd rather do it when surrounded by friends so that there is less likely to be a scene. Besides, you have to get your food in the cafeteria line.<br/>
<br/>
But you don't see Evie when you take a quick glance through the cafeteria, and when you stop by the table where your group usually sits to cautiously ask if she's around, Samantha Fletcher says she's absent. Delighted and relieved, you celebrate with a tray of beef enchiladas and fiesta potatoes.<br/>
<br/>
As sophomores -- and not top-of-the-line sophomores, either -- your group clusters at one end of a table against a back wall. Andy sits with you, and so do Joe and Grant and Justin Orr, who you've not yet seen today. He's not going to be doing his acne any favors, you can tell, because he's also piled up the greasy enchiladas and oil-drenched potatoes.<br/>
<br/>
Samantha has disappeared, though, by the time you're sitting down, and her best friend Zoe has gone too. You ask where they went. Justin answers by leaning way back off his stool and gazing at another table. You half stand and take a look: Ah, there they are, in a cluster of girls and a few boys. Must be a gymnastics thing, since Samantha and Zoe and some of the others are on the JV Cheerleader squad -- the "unofficial" squad, that is, as there is no official JV Cheerleader squad, just a lot of juniors and sophomores who wish there was.<br/>
<br/>
No, wait, you recognize that curly head in the middle of those girls. You snort. <i>Kieran Matthews.</i> The pretentions stoner who hasn't got the guts to be a real stoner, who just walks around wearing the clothes and gear and talking earnestly about the virtues of hemp. Your meditations on his shortcomings -- and he's short, too -- are interrupted by snorting giggles. The guys are all looking at you. "What?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, just looks like you've got some competition down there," Grant says with a manic grin.<br/>
<br/>
"What competition?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
"For the girls." He guffaws as Andy pokes him in the side. "Maybe they're trying to give Kieran <i>their</i> retainers."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, screw you!"<br/>
<br/>
Joe leans across the table. "So, are you going to ask Paulina out or not? Start of fifth lunch is the perfect time to catch her."</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Perils of Paulina
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Yeah, that is a good idea," you reflect aloud. Better than in sixth period Biology, when you'll have all kinds of people sitting around watching.<br/>
<br/>
It's a moment before the stares of surprise and incredulity on the faces of the others melt into masks of laughter. But you don't mind. You're pretty confident it'll go well. And if it doesn't? You've got enough distance to remember that it isn't <i>you</i> she'd be rejecting. Only the person you're pretending to be.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
They all follow you out the cafeteria, of course, and into the hallways, but you force them back after grabbing Grant by the shoulder and pummeling him -- he runs away, chortling and shrieking. They loiter at the end of the hallway, though, watching and grinning, as you lean against Paulina's locker. When the bell rings, the crowds surge into the corridors, hiding them, so it's okay.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Bhodi," says Paulina. She surprises you from behind, and despite your cool nerve, you jump a little. There's a bright gleam in her eye, and a little bit of a dimple in her cheek as she twirls the combo of her locker. She keeps glancing at you sidelong.<br/>
<br/>
She is really beautiful. Tall and thin without being skinny, with long hair that has reddish highlights when the light catches it just right. Her skin glows palely without being chalky, and the dusting of pink in her cheeks is like a reflected glow off a carnation. She has just the tiniest bit of an overbite, so that it's easy for her to suck nervously on her lower lip. You like it that she's doing that now.<br/>
<br/>
Did someone warn her that you were going to make this approach? You wouldn't put it past the guys.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, what are you doing Friday night?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't know yet." She shrugs. "Hanging out with friends, probably. Like usual."<br/>
<br/>
"Hang out with me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. I guess we could get some people together." Her eyes dart nervously, but they don't lose that gleam.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I was thinking maybe just us. We could go get something to eat, hang out. I dunno, go see a movie?" You lean forward, and your hair falls into your face. You brush it back with one hand.<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes widen, and a smile stiff with panic pulls the corners of her mouth up. "Just the two of us?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. I mean -- " <i>Don't backpedal, don't backpedal!</i> "If you want to get together with some other guys," you say, backpedaling, "we could do that. But you know, I like hanging out with you when there are other guys around. I wanted to try it without them around. No distractions, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, sure." That smile gets bigger and bigger, and her nostrils flare.<br/>
<br/>
"Or, I know." You snap your fingers. "We can set up to meet other guys somewhere, like a hangout or a party, but we can get together early, just us, and -- you know -- a couple of hours later we can go meet them. If we want to."<br/>
<br/>
"That sounds great." Her eyebrows have lifted almost to her hairline; her smile is almost manic; her nostrils are pulsing; her pupils look dilated.<br/>
<br/>
"Awesome. I have to get to class, but -- " You lay a hand on her shoulder as you brush behind her. "Thanks, I'll talk to you tomorrow about when we meet? Right here, same time?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure!"<br/>
<br/>
"It's a date, then. Bye. Owf!" <br/>
<br/>
In walking backward, you trip and almost sprawl all over another student. "Watch it, you fuck," someone snarls at you, and you apologize -- which only draws an "Asshole!" in reply -- and lope down the hall toward your friends.<br/>
<br/>
It's like an eight-legged, four-headed monster, they are packed so tight together, all grinning at you. "So?" Grant demands.<br/>
<br/>
"So what?" you coolly reply. Then you lick the tip of your pinkie finger and smooth down an eyebrow. They dissolve in gales of laughter.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You have English fifth period, and Jazmin is in there too -- without her friends, though. You're tempted to flirt with her again, but decide to see if she makes the first move, and only take your regular seat halfway across the room from her. She's occupied with her cell before class, though, and doesn't look around when she leaves class afterward.<br/>
<br/>
It's a little awkward in Biology, since Paulina is in there too. You can't ignore her, but you can't exactly hang out with her either after the talk at her locker. So you smile and jerk your chin at her, and she smiles shyly back and turns around to whisper furiously with Zoe Koch, who glances at you briefly before turning away with a hard giggle. You splay out in a desk and exchange a fist bump with Eric Hines, who sits across from you.<br/>
<br/>
He and Austin Chamberlain wind up being your partners when Mr. Carr breaks the class into trios and and puts everyone in the lab to sketch some models. It's not real animal cadavers, only some very old plastic-and-rubber human torsos with removable organs. There's much ribaldry as each group of three starts taking out the intestines and other organs to sketch them with colored pencils, with boys guffawing and girls shrieking.<br/>
<br/>
The worst offenders have to be the three "Ath-holes" (short for "Athlete Assholes") as they are sometimes called. The trio of Aaron Riggs, Andrew Webb, and Elijah Washington -- the guys who are determined to be team captains their senior year.<br/>
<br/>
Of the three, Webb is far and away your least favorite. He's the buzzcut jerk on the soccer team you got crossways with first period, and he's just as much of a jerk and a showboater in this class too -- yelling at people to quit jerking off while he himself sniggers over the hose-like tubing of the large intestine that his pal Aaron Riggs has draped around his neck.<br/>
<br/>
Aaron, meanwhile, is on the JV football squad. He's going to have to get a lot taller and wider if he's going to become captain of the varsity squad. Right now he's still well under six feet tall. But he's already building thick arms that he likes to show off in muscle shirts, and they are an odd contrast with the hairless chin and with brown hair that hangs in lank curls over his ears and eyebrows. With that hair, and his droopy eyes, and his shell necklace, from the head up he looks more like a genuine stoner than Kieran Matthews does.<br/>
<br/>
Elijah Washington is the only one of the three that you -- with Bhodi's instincts to guide you -- actually like. He's a tall, skinny African-American kid with a shy smile and a quiet manner who laughs at the antics of his friends without joining in with them. He's on the basketball JV squad, and word has it that he's actually pretty good. It would be funny if the one guy who is least like an "Ath-hole" would be the only one to actually achieve his part of the plan they've concocted.<br/>
<br/>
But right now he is laughing at and goading his friends to greater heights of douchebaggery as Aaron puts the small intestine around his shoulders and stands atop the lab, dancing around like it's a feathered boa. Andrew laughs at him too, then turns around to yell at a guy who's accidentally dropped a pencil case with a loud clang, scattering writing implements. He and the others wouldn't be getting away with it if Mr. Carr hadn't stepped out of the room.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," Austin mutters. "Why don't you go tell your friends to sit down and shut the fuck up," he says to Eric.<br/>
<br/>
Eric -- who plays on the JV basketball squad too -- sits up. "Who, me?"<br/>
<br/>
"They're your friends."<br/>
<br/>
Eric stares back dumbly. Not an uncommon expression on his face, your borrowed memories tell you. Eric has a dopey look anyway, what with the athletic hoodie he always wears, the ball cap he always wears backward, and the massive swoop of blonde hair he combs from one temple to the other, and which hangs down so low it almost covers his eyes like a visor. He has to lift his chin to peer out from under that swoop, looking down the bridge of his long nose, just to see Austin's face. "They're not my friends," he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
Somebody yells, and something shatters loudly. The class collectively catches its breath, then explodes in a buzz of excited confusion. A glass jar has broken and scattered on the floor.<br/>
<br/>
Paulina, a look of intense mortification on her face, is standing over it. She covers her mouth and nose.<br/>
<br/>
"Way to go, Paulina," Andrew sneers in a loud voice.<br/>
<br/>
Paulina looks up. Her face is red and tears are showing in her eyes. Her eyes lock onto yours.<br/>
<br/>
Deep down, you are still Will Prescott. This is not a girl you know, and she's not a girl you especially care for, even though she is very cute. But you also have Bhodi Weaver's memories and instincts and affections, which very much incline toward Paulina.<br/>
<br/>
On the other hand, deep inside where you are Will Prescott, you have a bantam need to fly at anyone who has offended you or one of your friends, and you vibrate hard in sympathy with Bhodi's affection for Paulina and his loathing of Andrew. But on the surface you also feel Bhodi's aversion to violence of any sort. Not that he's a pacifist, mind you. It's just that he hates the idea of pain, and doesn't trust himself to come out well in a fight.<br/>
<br/>
For that matter, Will Prescott has never come out well in a fight either.<br/>
<br/>
But the fact remains: Paulina is looking at you with horror and humiliation in her eyes as Andrew's ugly sneer rings in the air.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111
author_id: seuzz
title: Respect from Unexpected Places
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's almost an out-of-body experience --<br/>
<br/>
And since you're not in your body, but in Bhodi Weaver's, in a sense it is.<br/>
<br/>
-- as you rise to your feet.<br/>
<br/>
Really, you should just go help Paulina, but you have to walk past Andrew to get to her, and you can't help putting your hand on his shoulder and shoving him aside as you pass.<br/>
<br/>
And he shoves you back, hard, hurling you into another table.<br/>
<br/>
You fly at him, more flailing than swinging, throwing him back across his lab table. He pounds a couple of blows as you drag him to the floor.<br/>
<br/>
Girls scream and guys yell. Hands bat and tug at you. You tear at his shirt and grapple for his hair. He grabs a good handful of yours while pounding you in the sides.<br/>
<br/>
But then burly arms insert themselves into the scrum, and a loud voice barks Andrew's name and Bhodi's. You let go of Andrew, and he lets go of you, and you fall back to breathe and glare hard at each other.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Mr. Carr pulls you and Andrew out into the hall. The teacher is hard-faced but fair as he demands that you explain yourselves. Andrew, of course, says that you started it by shoving him; you insist you were only trying to brush past him to help Paulina and that he shoved you halfway across the room.<br/>
<br/>
The upshot is that Mr. Carr punishes neither of you, preferring to imagine it was just a matter of misunderstanding and testosterone, and sends you back inside with a strict order to leave each other alone. Naturally, the air is poisonous between you and Andrew, and you catch him and Aaron muttering together; and you and Austin Carpenter also mutter.<br/>
<br/>
So you're not much looking forward to your seventh period Art class, which you share with Andrew's friend Elijah. You make a point of taking the long way around to your locker before heading to Mr. Trencher's room.<br/>
<br/>
It's a weird mix of students in there. It's Art II, which means it's for people who are pretty serious about the visual arts -- drawing and painting and such like that -- and you'd expect it to be a pretty bohemian crowd. But even for an art class, it's a pretty ragged bunch. From the sophomore class, for instance, there's Trask McKinney, whose bloodshot eyes, filthy blonde hair, and skinny torso and arms mark him out even to the naive as a particularly wasted specimen of drug user. From the senior class, Justin Roth has the same glassy-eyed look, though his frame is much more robust. <br/>
<br/>
The two weird people in there are George Mendoza and Andrea Varnsworth. Mendoza's presence gives you a particular fright, and you're glad you're in disguise, for he is one of Chen's friends, and you stiffen as he watches you come in and take your seat. As for Andrea -- Well, you are of two minds, but both of them agree that it is an achingly intense pleasure to have the gorgeous captain of the swim team lounging in a desk, showing lots of thigh and calf and tummy.<br/>
<br/>
There's something else that bothers you about the room, though, and it's not until Roy Booth drops heavily into a desk behind an empty seat that it hits you -- Dane Matthias is in this class too.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit shit shit shit shit!</i> There's nothing you can do about it, of course, and there's no real danger. But how awful is it going to be to have the real Evie Cummings show up, probably still confused and horrified from her bizarre alteration into the stoner senior? What if she comes over to talk to you -- Bhodi Weaver, one of her friends -- and tries to convince you of who she really is? Could you fake your way through while pretending not to believe her?<br/>
<br/>
Dane is usually tardy, Bhodi's memories tell you, so it's no relief when his seat is still empty when the bell rings, and even after twenty minutes of class you still jump slightly at every little thump or footfall in the hall. Not until there's only ten minutes left in the period do you begin to go numb, but even then you experience only two minutes of comparative relaxation before you start to dread walking out into the hall in case he's out there waiting for you.<br/>
<br/>
But when the bell comes and the weirdness arrives, it's from a totally unexpected quarter: Elijah Washington.<br/>
<br/>
You and he catch each other's eyes as you're getting up. "You sure are jumpy, man," he says softly, and grins a little at you as he slips his jacket on.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not jumpy. What makes you think I'm jumpy?"<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs lightly. "Maybe you're not. But you kept jumping."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not jumpy."<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs again. "Ain't nothin' to worry about, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"What should I worry about?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothin'. Like I said." He shrugs his backpack onto his shoulders, and the whites of his teeth and eyes contrast boldly with his dark skin. "Andrew's just an asshole, that's all."<br/>
<br/>
You're too dumbfounded to make a reply as he struts slowly from the room after delivering that <i>mot.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But now it's eighth period. The period you've been dreading. The period that Bhodi shares with Evie Cummings, and thus the period when you will see the real Bhodi in his new guise.<br/>
<br/>
It's true that you heard at lunch that Evie is absent, but maybe that was just a rumor, so you approach Mr. Kowalski's Geometry class with great caution. But her desk is empty, so you allow yourself to relax a little as you go inside.<br/>
<br/>
Grant and Joe and Andy are in there, and both of them are looking up at you with wide eyes. "What?" you ask, and tense.<br/>
<br/>
They look at each other. "Dude, we heard you totally whaled on Andrew Webb in your biology class," Grant says.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, that." You shrug and roll your eyes, as though it was a complete and completely inevitable victory you scored over him. "He had it coming."<br/>
<br/>
They look at each other again. You like the look of respect in their eyes, so you can't resist embellishing. "Yeah. He was giving crap to Paulina, so -- " You mime popping a guy. "And it was for all his other crap, too."<br/>
<br/>
Grant covers his gasping mouth. "Oh my God." Joe settles back and blinks, as though this revelation of your mettle requires a reassessment of some important variables. Andy puts his hand up for a high five, and you give it to him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So that's the first day of your new life. Pretty successful in most ways; but you've only dodged trouble with Evie and the real Bhodi. When Andy asks what you're doing after school, you tell him that you're going home. That will be the safe thing to do, of course -- unless someone you don't want to see shows up to try to see you.<br/>
<br/>
So after Joe drops you off, you throw your things into the bedroom, throw yourself onto the bed and text Caleb: <i>didnt see u tday, wassup?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>whatever. what u doing now?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>clubhouse, work, masks?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>ok, giv me 1 hr</i><br/>
<br/>
That's going to cut it tight as far as your chores are concerned. Tonight's your night to fix supper, so you find your mom to ask about the night's menu. It turns out that although the menu won't be hard to prepare -- roasted spiced chicken, roasted vegetables, and mashed potatoes, there won't be a way to make the timing work. You text Caleb back, telling him you'll meet him at the school at seven, and get to the prep work, doing homework at the kitchen bar while waiting for the various items to finish.<br/>
<br/>
Of course, it's a surprise to you that Bhodi has to fix dinner on some nights, and it's a surprise to his friends as well. But when you think about it -- as Bhodi has -- it makes sense. His mother insists that he learn how to do things, and cooking isn't really that hard. The recipes tell you what to do, and she has a line of cookbooks with menus that are very easy to follow, though she has spanked them up with her own changes and corrections. Bhodi's been partly responsible for meal prep since he was thirteen, and he's more than used to it by now.<br/>
<br/>
Over dinner, which turns out perfectly, you talk about the day while leaving out the drama in Biology, and casually drop that you're going to be doing something on Friday with friends. That elicits no comment, but then you didn't need it to. Because you fixed dinner, your parents clean up.<br/>
<br/>
To cover up for your absence, you change into running clothes and pretend that you're going for a jog -- as the sun isn't far from setting, you will have to make it a quick session with Caleb, mostly to swap notes. He said in his texts that he had finished up a couple of new masks, so you'll have to talk to him about who to use them on. There is also the next spell in the book, which you have to decipher.<br/>
<br/>
You're just jogging up when Caleb appears. He rolls his eyes when he sees you. "Nothing," he snorts when you ask what his deal is. "Just can't believe it's you. Except I can, since I have to spend the day babysitting the fake you."<br/>
<br/>
"What's he getting up to?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing good. Why can't you go back to being yourself?"<br/>
<br/>
You're about to retort that you can't because -- And then it hits you. Why can't you? If you shoved Gordon into this mask of Bhodi, he could carry on as the sophomore, and you could resume your own existence.<br/>
<br/>
In fact, you could do that right now, probably.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111
author_id: seuzz
title: An Escape Route Into a Dead End
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You and Caleb stand in the lengthening shadows around the elementary school. He's staring at you. You're deep in thought.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Why couldn't you go back to being yourself?</i> Right now, even?<br/>
<br/>
You have already learned that the masks cease recording any kind of memories after they are taken off the person they copy. That means the last thing recorded in Bhodi's mask is the memory of going up to the Suffolk Wilderness with Evie Cummings. That's only one day in the life of Bhodi that a new victim would be missing if you hung it on their face.<br/>
<br/>
And who better to turn into a sophomore than Gordon Black -- the guy currently stuck under a mask of yourself? He couldn't hurt you with the body of Bhodi Weaver, even if he knew you had anything to do with it.<br/>
<br/>
So -- <br/>
<br/>
You could get to Gordon, get your mask off him, then put Bhodi's on him. After that, you could rescue everyone else. Get Gordon's mask off of Dane -- sure, the poor guy would be in trouble with Gary Chen, but he'd probably be better off as himself than as the captain of the basketball squad. The real reason for turning him back to normal, though, is that you could turn Evie back to normal. And then Bhodi --<br/>
<br/>
Wait? What would you do with Bhodi? Because Gordon would be walking around wearing his mask ...<br/>
<br/>
Wait! Of course! Put Gordon's mask onto Bhodi! Let the two of them suffer the body swap while you just watch from the sidelines!<br/>
<br/>
You're about to tell Caleb that's what you want to do when another worry occurs to you: "What do you mean he's getting up to no good?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb snorts. "Jesus, Will, it took you that long to process what I just said?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I was trying to process what you said about -- Never mind! Just tell me how much trouble I'm in at home."<br/>
<br/>
"How the fuck should I know? He doesn't even like talking to me. The replacement you, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"Is he in trouble in school?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shrugs. "He keeps to himself."<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos I don't want to change back if I don't know what's been going on."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb makes a face. "You know, the longer you put it off, the harder it's going to be to go back."<br/>
<br/>
"If I just knew what the heck was going on with my life -- "<br/>
<br/>
"Heck?" Caleb blinks. "Since when the fuck do you say 'heck'?"<br/>
<br/>
You blush. "Since I turned myself into Bhodi Weaver. He doesn't cuss, so I don't have the habit so much anymore."<br/>
<br/>
"Christ. So anyway, are we doing anything now, or did I waste gas to get here?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I guess we'll -- "<br/>
<br/>
Then you grab him. An exciting idea has come to you.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God, this is the best idea ever!</i> You practically throw yourself into a gymnastics routine, you're so excited. Caleb flinches behind his car to keep from being kicked in the jaw by your high stepping routine.<br/>
<br/>
"A brain band!" you exclaim breathlessly. "I'll put a brain-band onto Gordon, and I'll put it on, and that way I'll have his memories!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb sucks in his cheeks. "Uh, I thought you wanted <i>your</i> memories. You know, the ones that he's been picking up while -- "<br/>
<br/>
"But that's what I'll have! Dude, don't you see?" You grab him, and he brushes you off. "We take the mask off Gordon. I put a fresh brain band on him. It comes out, and it has all his memories, including the ones that he will have after putting on that mask of me! Then I'll know what he's been up to and what he's been doing!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb looks skeptical. "Yeah, well, maybe. What if it only records his memories up until the moment he put your mask <i>on?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Why would it do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, man, I'm just saying."<br/>
<br/>
"But I don't have anything to lose if it doesn't work, do I? And if it does work, then I got a lot more! I'll have Gordon's brain inside mine, the way I've got Bhodi's brain inside me now!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb pales. "That does <i>not</i> strike me as being an asset."<br/>
<br/>
"Why not? I'll have, like, his basketball moves and stuff." You mime throwing a basketball. "Dude! I'll have his memories of all the times that Chelsea sucked him off!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb goes rigid all over, and vibrates like a gong that's been struck hard. "Will," he says firmly, "we have to make two brain bands of him. Right now. One for you and one for me."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you know it!" you chortle. "Come on!" You race for the door, grab the handle and -- <br/>
<br/>
<i>Bang!</i> It doesn't budge.<br/>
<br/>
"The key, Prescott," Caleb says. "Hurry!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm hurrying!" you laugh. You pull your keys out, jam the key into the padlock -- <br/>
<br/>
Except you don't. You're so excited you keep fumbling it and can't get it inserted. Caleb tries grabbing it from you, and you shove him away and he shoves you and you drop them. He snatches them from the dirt, and you stand back to let him work the lock.<br/>
<br/>
But he can't get it to work either. "Jesus, man, where's the right key?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"That's it."<br/>
<br/>
"No it isn't. It doesn't fit."<br/>
<br/>
"Bullshit. Let me try." He slaps at you, but you take over.<br/>
<br/>
And still you can't get the key inserted into the padlock.<br/>
<br/>
You frown at it. It's the right key. It's got to be. It's the only key that size on the key ring, and it <i>looks</i> like the right key. Except you've never really looked at it. You try it again, much more slowly and carefully. It still won't work. "It's not the right key," says Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
Now you don't argue. <i>Is</i> it the wrong key? How could you have gotten the wrong key? You had it with you all day. You left the padlock open yesterday when you parted from Caleb, and all he had to do was snap it shut when he left. "Of course that's what I did," he tells you when you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
You stare at the padlock ... and the hairs on the back of your neck go up.  "That's the wrong padlock," you tell him. "That's not the padlock I bought."<br/>
<br/>
He stares at it dumbly. "You sure?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure I'm sure, I've handled it enough times." You grab it and pull at it. It's fat, strong, solid, and shiny. "It's a different kind of lock. Oh Jesus!" Bhodi's non-cussing ways fall away as horror seizes you. "The guys at the community center! They found the clubhouse and they cut our lock off and they put their own back on!"<br/>
<br/>
You and Caleb stare at each other in horror. If they got your lock off, and if they got down into the clubhouse --<br/>
<br/>
Your phone tweets, but you ignore it as you and Caleb drop next to the window and try to peer in. But you can't make out anything in the dark. "I'll go home and get some bolt cutters," Caleb says. Both of you run to his car.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Recriminations between you are fierce, even though both of you knew you were running a hard risk by continuing to use the old school basement. Tempers aren't improved when you get back to the school -- it's getting pretty dark now, you need to get home -- and cut the lock off and go downstairs.<br/>
<br/>
You've been cleaned out. Oh, some of your tools are still around, but all your supplies are gone. The masks that Caleb made are gone. Even the car buffer is gone.<br/>
<br/>
Most important: The grimoire is gone.<br/>
<br/>
You want to curl into a fetal position and die. It's not just that this upsets your plans. It's that this stuff, in the hands of somebody else -- You can't even articulate how horrible that might be. You've fucked up so many other people with the book and the masks, but that was okay, because it was on accident. Other people could do it on purpose.<br/>
<br/>
"Do we go to the community center guys and tell them that was our stuff?" you ask Caleb hollowly.<br/>
<br/>
"What, and tell them we've been trespassing and fucking around their property?" he explodes.<br/>
<br/>
"It's better than them playing around with that shit and finding out what it can do, man! If we have to pay restitution, or plead guilty, it'll be worth it, if just to get the -- Why are you looking at me like that?"<br/>
<br/>
He shoves you in the chest. "Who's going to jail in that case, man? Who's paying the fine? You? Who are you, anyway? It's gonna me who -- "<br/>
<br/>
So you argue in circles, even after getting in his car so he can drop you off a block from your house. You agree to part, cool off, then call each other to talk about it again.<br/>
<br/>
Of course, you don't look like you've been out running when you get home, but you move fast through the living room and announce you'll be in the shower so Bhodi's parents don't notice. In the bathroom, you check your texts, which were piling up while you were with Caleb. Most are from Andy, but a few are from Grant and Joe. The gist of all of them is: Informal party at Joe's place. Do you want to come over? They are practically pleading for you to.<br/>
<br/>
<i>No.</i> You're not in the mood. You quickly text back, telling them you were out running. Your phone tweets again while you're in the shower, and when you get out find it's from Paulina. She's over there too, and she really would like it if you came over.<br/>
<br/>
You suck on your lip. You're still not much in the mood, and you and Caleb arranged to talk. But it would look kind of weird and bad if you blew off this request from Paulina. Well, you have a ready-made excuse if you don't want to: the old "Mom and Dad won't let me" excuse you've often used on Keith.<br/>
<br/>
But do you really want to use that excuse? After what happened in Biology today, it sounds like Paulina is feeling very tender toward you.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111
author_id: seuzz
title: A Turn of the Tables
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You know what you want to do about the missing magical supplies—talk to the community center people—so you don't need to do any more thinking about the problem. Caleb is the one who needs to come around, and that's not your problem.<br/>
<br/>
So you text him that something's come up and you'll talk to him much later in the evening—after eleven, as that's Bhodi's curfew. Then you text Andy, telling you're free to be picked up. He quickly texts back, and a few minutes later you're standing at the curb waiting for him.<br/>
<br/>
Conversation is oddly strained. Andy is usually chatty, and the texts you got from him and the others were very chirpy, like they already had a great party going on. But here, behind the wheel, he is very subdued, and he gives only one-word answers to everything you say. You finally ask him if everything's okay. "Sure," he says. "Awesome." And he doesn't look over at you.<br/>
<br/>
It was dark in the car, and it's dark on the walk up to Joe's front door, but once you're under the porch light, you see that Andy is very white in the face. He goes straight in without knocking or ringing the doorbell, and takes you through an empty living room to the stairs. "Where's Joe's parents?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Out. A movie, I think. Convenient."<br/>
<br/>
"For what?" You pause on the bottom stair.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, just 'cos," he says, and avoids looking you in the face. "Come on."<br/>
<br/>
Slowly, and with mounting trepidation, you follow. The upstairs hall is dark, and the only light comes from the crack under Joe's bedroom door. Andy raps a couple of time on it, then enters. You let him get all the way inside before following.<br/>
<br/>
You freeze just inside the room. There's a whole pile of kids here: Joe, Grant, and Justin representing the boys along with Andy; Paulina and Lindsay Cho and Melanie Heath for the girls. Basically the whole gang. "Hey guys," you say. "What's, uh—?"<br/>
<br/>
Something heavy hits you from behind, knocking you onto the bed. You twist over in time to see Andy—his eyes wide, his teeth bared, and his face green—scrambling atop you. The others crowd around and on top of you too. You're too surprised to immediately react, and then they've got your legs and arms pinned. "What the—? What the—?" is all you can sputter.<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay looks over her shoulder. "Okay, we're ready," she calls.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Ready? Ready for what?</i><br/>
<br/>
She and Paulina—who is looking at you with a particularly revolted expression—step aside. You hear a door open—that would be the door to Joe's private bath. A new figure looms into view. His hair is dark, as is his skin. And he looks as grimly horrified as the others.<br/>
<br/>
It's Bhodi Weaver.<br/>
<br/>
You open your mouth to yell, but he lands on your chest first and puts his hands to your face. You twist, but he gets a grip on your forehead. Something inside you tears away, and the world goes black.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're lying on your side when you awake, and you feel like you've been dragged through deep water and over rocks. You don't hurt, not physically, but your mind is ragged. You shake your head and blink and try to remember what—<br/>
<br/>
<i>The faces.</i> That's what comes back to you immediately. The grave, ugly, fearful and hate-filled faces of your friends as they piled up around you and on you.<br/>
<br/>
Only they're not your friends. They are Bhodi Weaver's friends. And it was Bhodi Weaver who grabbed at your face and --<br/>
<br/>
And what? Your sphincter loosens. Did he take the mask off you?<br/>
<br/>
You twist around and try to sit up, but find that your arms are pinned behind you. Cold hoops enclose your wrists, and they click and clack metallically when you pull at them. You catch a glimpse of a leg, and scramble up and back, twisting your shoulder painfully as you push back against the headboard of the bed.<br/>
<br/>
They're all sitting or standing and staring at you with expressions of loathing: Andy, Joe, Grant, Justin, Paulina, Lindsay, Melanie. <br/>
<br/>
And Bhodi. He's dressed in a t-shirt and track pants, and looks healthy and normal. <br/>
<br/>
You lick your lips, and swallow.<br/>
<br/>
Joe nudges Grant, who nudges Andy, who looks at Bhodi. Your one-time alter ego only keeps his dark eyes on you.<br/>
<br/>
Andy gets onto the bed with you, and you rear back as he looms over you with a cigarette lighter. He flicks it. "Okay, who are you?" he says. "Really."<br/>
<br/>
It takes a moment for the question, and the significance of the lighter, to register. Then you bounce back so hard that he falls over and the flame goes out. "Jesus, you don't have to do that!" you holler.<br/>
<br/>
"So what do I gotta do?" he yells back, and after two ineffectual flicks gets the lighter back on.<br/>
<br/>
"Just ask me a question! Jesus!"<br/>
<br/>
"I did! Who are you?"<br/>
<br/>
You stare goggle-eyed at the flame, then glance at Andy's face. He is pale and staring, he probably doesn't want to use that flame. Maybe you could bluff him—<br/>
<br/>
But with what? And if you don't talk, he'll probably thrust that thing at you and maybe he'll do more than scorch your skin. If he accidentally thrusts it into your eye --<br/>
<br/>
"My name's Will, okay? Will Prescott." You rear back. "Happy? Can I go now?"<br/>
<br/>
"What are you doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Trying not to shit myself!"<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay Cho pushes forward. "Let me handle this," she says brusquely. With her flat face and flat eyes, she looks a lot tougher than Andy does. A tight scowl disfigures her mouth as she straddles your legs. Before you can flinch, she unzips your jeans and is groping for your cock. You twist, but then she's got it in her hands, and then you have to calm down. <i>Get them by the balls, and their hearts and minds will follow, indeed!</i> She pulls your dick out, and wrenches the lighter from Andy. "Okay, asshole. You're going to answer my questions and you're going to answer them fast. Or else—" She flicks the lighter and puts the flame close to the tip of your cock.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So, you gabble out explanations. It helps that they have some props on hand for you to point to: not just the mask they took off you, and the mask of Evie that Bhodi had been wearing but also—to your immense shock—the grimoire as well as the masks Caleb had made and all your supplies from the basement.<br/>
<br/>
So it wasn't the community center that got in there and took your stuff. It was Bhodi's friends!<br/>
<br/>
You reel at these revelations, but that cigarette lighter keeps near your cock keeps you concentrated on explanations. You tell them that you're senior at Westside—and Justin tells them that he's seen you in his eighth-period Astronomy class—and that you found the grimoire at Arnholm's Used Books. You tell them about how you were goofing off with the masks with your friend Caleb when you got caught by Gordon Black, and how Caleb's quick thinking led to your switching places with him briefly, before switching places then with Dane, and then—<br/>
<br/>
You make Lindsay give the lighter back to Andy before telling her about how you then moved from Dane to Evie, and from Evie to Bhodi.<br/>
<br/>
They're not impressed by your story, no matter how much you protest that Gordon is dangerous to have as an enemy, and that Chen is a psycho. "So you just thought you'd fuck everyone else up!" Melanie yells at you. "Typical stupid guy shit!" You catch Grant and Joe exchanging some hooded glances at that. <br/>
<br/>
And Lindsay says flat-out that she doesn't believe you. "What's this, then?" she says, and thrusts a piece of paper at your face. It's a list of names: Tyler Ward, Kieran Matthews, Matthew Adams, Andrew Webb, Aaron Riggs, Elijah Washington. "Were these some other people you were going to replace?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! Well, sort of," you have to admit. "Caleb, he wanted to know some guys that maybe we could get a mask of so he could, you know—" You try to shrug, but it's hard because your hands are cuffed behind your back. "Um, get close to girls with. You know, to, uh—" Your mouth goes very dry when you see the brittle look in Melanie's eye. Her boyfriend's name is on that list.<br/>
<br/>
And then Paulina runs from the room. Lindsay stares daggers at you, and runs after her. "Look, I'm not a bad guy," you yell. "I was just trying to stay alive!"<br/>
<br/>
They all look at you with pain and disgust in their eyes. Slowly, they leave in knots, until you're left with only Bhodi. "Look, I'm sorry, man," you tell him, though it's a really useless thing to say. "I was just really desperate, and—"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up," he says quietly, and looks away.<br/>
<br/>
"You know, I was planning to put everything back tonight. I was going to let everyone out and put them all back to normal. Well, except—" He looks up as you suddenly turn tongue-tied. "I was going to put Gordon inside your mask, and I was going to put you inside Gordon's. That wouldn't be too bad for you, right? You'd be a senior, and captain of the basketball team, and you'd have the head cheerleader for a girlfriend—"<br/>
<br/>
He just looks nauseated by your plea. "I don't believe you, and even if I did—"<br/>
<br/>
The door opens again, and Lindsay comes in. She puts her hand on her hips, and her eyes glitter. "So what the fuck are we going to do with you?" she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Let me go? Put me back to normal? I was going to do that, I was just telling Bhodi, I swear, I—"<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" she says, and you don't like her tone. "Would you make everything normal again?" You nod. "Would you do <i>anything</i> to make things normal again?"</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111
author_id: seuzz
title: All Is Made Clear
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You'd do <i>anything</i> put everything back together?" Lindsay asks you in a hard voice. You nod. "Because if you swear that and don't follow through—" She looks over at something. You follow her gaze. It's the grimoire.<br/>
<br/>
You edge away warily. "What do I have to do?"<br/>
<br/>
She holds your eye. "You have to bring Evie back."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Is that all?</i> "Sure, I can do that. That's easy!"<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't you say that you turned her into some guy named Dane Matthias?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, and it'll be easy to—" <br/>
<br/>
"Because he's gone." Lindsay's mouth is a line as she amplifies. <br/>
<br/>
"While we were talking," she explains, "Joe was trying to track these people down, see where they live. Because we don't need <i>your</i> help getting these masks off people ourselves. Right, Bhodi?" He nods. "But there's a problem with this Dane Matthias guy. He's gone to Oregon."<br/>
<br/>
"Like on a vacation?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. His mom put him on a plane to a military academy this morning."<br/>
<br/>
Your mouth drops open. Dane in a military academy? <i>That</i> does not compute. And since when would his hippy, dope-smoking mom do something like that? "That's impossible!" you yelp. "You don't know Dane or his mom, they'd never—"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno anything except what his mom told Joe." Lindsay glowers. "But you'd do anything to get her back. Isn't that what you said, what you promised?" She leans forward. "Do you promise that now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, sure," you gasp, and sidle back from her. Your voice is faint, because you're sure that you <i>aren't</i> about to faint.<br/>
<br/>
She stares at you very hard, then goes out again. "See?" you tell Bhodi. "I told you I'd—"<br/>
<br/>
"I told you to shut up," he says, and slumps in his chair.<br/>
<br/>
The others come crowding back in. They all have pinched looks. Joe sits on the bed next to you now. "So how are you going to get her back?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
The pressure of having all these guys around you, staring at you, judging you, is almost more than you can bear. You can hardly think. You can't drive out to Oregon—it's a couple of days away—and you can't fly, and even if you could, how could you get into this school when you don't even know which one it is? Dane's mom would know, but—<br/>
<br/>
Then the ideas slowly start to come. Hideous ideas—not because they're evil, but because they're nauseating.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, first we have to know where he is and how to get to him," you slowly say. "His mom would know that, and she would also be the one who could get him back, get them to put Dane—I mean, Evie—on a plane to come home." You glance over at the blank masks Caleb made. "So if one of us pretended to be her—"<br/>
<br/>
Your voice catches in your throat. No one blinks or moves. <br/>
<br/>
"I think we're gonna have to do <i>something</i> like that, guys!" you protest. "I don't want to, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"Can't you just make a phone call?" Andy says. He's just as green in the face as when you started explaining all this stuff—what was it, an hour ago? "You don't need to look like her to make a phone call."<br/>
<br/>
"But I'd need her voice and her memories. I mean, <i>someone</i> would, whoever—" You lick your lips. You know that you're going to have to be the one to do it. <br/>
<br/>
"No, wait, hang on," you exclaim after another idea has come. "We don't have to do that right away. Those metal strips inside the masks, they copy memories and stuff. If we just got a copy of Dane's mom's brain to start with, then we could know what we have to do. Maybe that would be enough, or we'd see another way of getting Evie back."<br/>
<br/>
Glances are exchanged, and an unspoken assent seems to settle on the room. "Then you should do that," Lindsay says. "Let's get started."<br/>
<br/>
"Hang on, don't I have to go home soon?" you ask. "I mean, doesn't—" Your mouth goes dry as you glance at Bhodi. "Uh, how are we going to—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Conference again," Lindsay says, and they all troop from the bedroom once more, this time leaving you all alone. <br/>
<br/>
You turn over and lay face down on the bed. You are exhausted and ragged and frightened. It's a tough thing. You're pretty sure Bhodi is going to want to have his life back instantly. But then who is going to play Evie? You're sure they're not going to let you do it. And if you don't take Evie's part, to maintain the illusion that she's still in town, what are they going to do with you?<br/>
<br/>
But they apparently come to a quick consensus, and pile back inside. You roll onto your back, but Grant forces you back onto your stomach and rattles at the handcuffs. A second later you are released. You rub your arms and stretch your shoulders, but look worriedly at your captors. "What's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're taking you back over that school," Joe says. "We're gonna lock you in there over night. You're going to work on one of those things that copies brains."<br/>
<br/>
There should be two of them already made up and ready to go, somewhere in the mess of stuff that Lindsay and the other collected from out of the basement. But you decide not to mention that: it might be useful to have a third one on hand. Besides, if you mention you've already got one of those brain bands made up, they take you out to Dane's right away, and you're not sure you want to face up to that so soon; and if you're going to spend the night in the basement, you'll need something to do anyway.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, sure, but what about—? I mean, even if Bhodi goes home, who's going to play Evie?"<br/>
<br/>
"Evie will spend the night with me," says Lindsay. "At least, that's what we'll say. We'll worry about tomorrow when it comes. Come on, Joe's parents will be back soon."<br/>
<br/>
And so the whole troop of you—with the sophomores pressed around you as though fearful you'll try running off—go out to your cars and caravan back to the elementary school.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It winds up being much less fraught out there than you'd feared. The girls don't stay long—they cluck distastefully at the shabby basement—and then you're left with the guys. Their curiosity overcomes their disgust as you start setting out the supplies to make the brain band, and they start asking questions of you. Or, rather, Joe and Grant ask questions. Justin only watches intently, while Andy sits to one side with Bhodi.<br/>
<br/>
There's a lot of time to pass, at least until eleven rolls around, and as you carve runes into the band you ask them to explain how they managed to catch  you. "I remembered everything you were doing while you were, you know, pretending to be Evie," Bhodi says quietly.<br/>
<br/>
"But I thought the mask didn't record those memories," you protest. "I thought they cut off recording when I made it. I even called around to find out if you were remembering any of that stuff."<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs stiffly. "It took me awhile to start remembering anything . All that afternoon I was really freaked out, but I knew how to get to Evie's house, and I went there. But when I woke up the next morning, I remembered everything." He turns very red under his dark skin. "Everything she remembered, and everything that you did as her. So I skipped school and came out here, busted into the basement, cleaned it out, looked over all the stuff. Put a new lock on. Sent some texts around, found out where—" He makes a face. "Where <i>I</i> was and what I was doing. So after school was out I went over to see Lindsay. I knew how to take the mask off because the book explained it. So I showed her who I was. She freaked out, but I got everything explained. Then we got everyone else out a little bit at a time, showed them."<br/>
<br/>
With that kind of an explanation behind it, it makes sense. You don't understand how you managed to get Bhodi's memories so fast, while it took him so much longer to get Evie's. Maybe he just panicked and freaked out, and he had to relax by falling asleep before they would come.<br/>
<br/>
But that gives you another idea—a kind of peace offering. "You know, if the masks record all the memories," you tell him, "even when someone else is wearing them, then if you put on that mask of yourself, you'll see what I was doing today. That way you won't be lost when you go to school tomorrow. Though, uh—" You glance sheepishly at the other guys. "I guess they've told you some of the stuff I did. And you'll see I was serious when I told you earlier that I was going to fix everything. You'll see me talking to my friend Caleb about it."<br/>
<br/>
Bhodi ponders this for a couple of minutes. Then with awkward movements he sweeps up the mask of himself and goes off in a corner. As you and everyone else watches, he slumps to the floor and puts his mask on. It seems to dissolve into his face.<br/>
<br/>
Andy goes over to sit by him, and that leaves you with Joe and Grant and Justin. There's a tension in the air, and you catch them exchanging meaningful glances.<br/>
<br/>
Then Joe sucks in a deep breath and leans forward. "You know," he whispers. "We're going to lock you in here overnight, and probably all day tomorrow too. You'll need something to do." He looks at his friends, then leans back in again. "Maybe you could make some extra masks? Three of them? So we could do the kind of stuff you and your friend were doing? That friendly body swapping before you went crazy?"<br/>
<br/>
You look around wildly. Grant and Justin have the same expressions—worried but expectant. They must have talked about it on the way over, as they rode together.<br/>
<br/>
Are they serious? Or is this some kind of test, maybe a trap?</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111
author_id: seuzz
title: Underground Work
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What are you guys talking about?" you cautiously ask.<br/>
<br/>
Joe and Grant and Justin glance at each other. "Making some more of those masks," Joe says quietly. "You need something to do down here, and—"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you want them for?"<br/>
<br/>
His lips disappear, and his gaze goes a little shifty. "Nothing bad. Like, how you and your friend— What's his name? Anyway," he continues when you don't answer. "You were pretending to be each other?" He shrugs. "Just something like that."<br/>
<br/>
"That's how it started," you retort, "and look where I ended."<br/>
<br/>
Joe winces and withdraws, and you think that'll be the end of it, but Grant leans in. "But we saw how you messed up," he says. "We wouldn't."<br/>
<br/>
You're dubious that he's right, but you don't argue. They may be sophomores, but they're not smaller than you, and there's three of them—five, including Andy and Bhodi in the corner.<br/>
<br/>
And could they get into trouble? If they only had masks of each other, they could only swap them around like you and Caleb did. Unless there's some set of bullies on the loose to jump them like Gordon jumped you—<br/>
<br/>
And that was a one-in-a-million fuck up on your part, his part, and Caleb's.<br/>
<br/>
—then they're right there's not much chance of them getting into a fucked-up state like you got.<br/>
<br/>
Besides, doing this favor for these guys might get you in good with them, and given that you've got a half-dozen kids from the sophomore class pissed off at you, and you don't have a home at the moment, then you need all the friends you can get.<br/>
<br/>
Still, you decided to play it a little warily, in case it's a trap.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't guess I could stop you guys from making the masks on your own," you observe as casually as you can manage. "You've got the book, I mean." The three sophomores give each other quick, sidelong glances. "Except you might mess up. If you're going to do this thing anyway, I should do it for you so you don't hurt yourselves."<br/>
<br/>
Joe and Justin look insulted, but Grant breaks out in a wide grin. "That's awesome." He bumps you in a friendly way with his fist. "How long would it take you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Depends on if you guys want to do full role-playing, like— Uh, like I was doing with Bhodi." You feel yourself crimsoning a little at the reference to your just-completed adventure. "I can have three masks ready by tomorrow morning, but you won't be able to have memories or anything in them."<br/>
<br/>
"That's okay," says Joe, and even in the dark you can't miss the dark blush that swells up his neck and throat to swallow his jaw and cheeks. "Just as long as we can, you know, look like each other."<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, man," Grant says, and his hands and feet go in about three different directions. "I wanna play around with the whole—"<br/>
<br/>
"Quiet," Justin growls. He doesn't talk much, you've noticed. He glances over his shoulder at Andy and Bhodi. "We can worry about that later."<br/>
<br/>
"I can do the work," you continue, "but I'm gonna need a sleeping bag or something, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay and them will bring one back," says Joe. "We'll stop by tomorrow morning to pick up the masks, tell you what's going on."<br/>
<br/>
"Won't Bhodi be carpooling with you? You want him to know about this?"<br/>
<br/>
They look at each other. "I'll stop by," Justin says.<br/>
<br/>
Before there can be anymore talk, Bhodi stirs in the corner. He and Andy talk quietly for a moment, just the two of them, before Joe and Justin go over to join them. But Grant stays with you, and grabs your hand for a quick, excited squeeze while grinning manically.<br/>
<br/>
Bhodi doesn't talk to you, and he goes outside with Andy, taking his mask with him. Joe comes back over to tell you that your idea worked—he can now "remember" what you did as him today. Lindsay comes back not long after with a sleeping bag, which she hurls at your head; the guys say something about staying with you to make sure you work, but she barks at them like a trail boss and chases them back upstairs. "We'll check on you after school," she says from the top of the stairs. You nod, and say nothing about expecting a visitor in the morning.<br/>
<br/>
You spend the night working, though the dim electric lights are a strain on your eyes. You have enough ingredients to put together three new masks, which you cast, though the odor stinks up the basement. It's another three hours of polishing them, by which time it's deep in the early morning hours. Stiff and cold, you crawl into the sleeping bag for an exhausted slumber.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're woken the next morning by the banging of the door, and you bolt up with a kind of drowning sensation. "Hey, rise and shine," says Justin, who is standing where Lindsay had stood the night before.<br/>
<br/>
"Christ, I was up until two working on the shit for you guys," you retort, and rub your eyes deeply. If your brain had feet, they'd be sliding around under you, like a dog running on a parquet floor.<br/>
<br/>
"At least you don't have to go to school today." He clomps down the stairs. "Lucky bastard. You got that one guy, the basketball guy, covering for you, and Bhodi's back to being himself—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, and what's going to happen to Evie?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. That's Lindsay's job to figure out. Is this them?" He stops at the table where the new masks are piled.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." You yawn deeply. "All ready. Except ... "<br/>
<br/>
"Except what?"<br/>
<br/>
You grind the heels of your hands into your eyeballs. You don't want any fuck ups. "Well, you have to put your faces into them. And then you have to seal them." <br/>
<br/>
"How do we do that?"<br/>
<br/>
You look around, but the sealant is nowhere to be seen. When packing up supplies, Lindsay must have kept it back along with the two masks they all seized.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh. "You guys took all our shit, right? Including a Tupperware container?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess."<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Don't</i> guess," you snap. "It'll be with the masks, so maybe you should bring it all here so I can—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I remember what you're talking about," he quickly says.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh. Well if you do, it's that stuff I'm talking about. You have to paint it all up across the inside of the masks. Or else you'll mess up the images if you start swapping them around."<br/>
<br/>
Justin picks up a mask. His long, heavy-lidded face scrunches up thoughtfully. "Okay. Put our faces into them, seal them up, swap them around. Is that all?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I guess. Basically. Except when you put them on—" You yawn again. "When you put your faces in, you'll knock you out for ten minutes or something. And when you put them on after you seal them up, you'll knock yourselves out again. Same thing when you take them off."<br/>
<br/>
"How do you take them off?"<br/>
<br/>
"You got some paper?" Justin has to retrieve a notebook from outside, and when he's back you write down the magic words and teach him how to say them while grabbing onto his face. "Now that's all." Your stomach growls. "Hey, do you think you could go get me some food or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"Joe's gonna drop you off some on his way to school. Breakfast and lunch, so don't eat it all at once."<br/>
<br/>
"Bhodi'll be with him, right? Shouldn't you get out of here before they get here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm fine, they won't be along until a little before eight. It's six-thirty now," he adds when you blink at him.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, Jesus.</i>"Then go away so I can get a little more sleep."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you have to finish that thing for Lindsay?"<br/>
<br/>
"She won't be by until late this afternoon." You crawl into the sleeping bag and turn your back on him. "Good-bye."<br/>
<br/>
You can feel him grinning at you, but you ignore him, and a couple of minutes later you hear his feet going up the steps and the door closing. The lock claps shut with a <i>thunk.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Joe stops by with a sack of food from McDonalds. After he leaves, you lay in a dim state between consciousness and unconsciousness for a couple of hours before rousing yourself to finish that brain band.<br/>
<br/>
As you work, you naturally ponder what will be coming next. The brain band you're working will have to go onto Dane's mom so you can find out what the hell is going on with him. After that you're going to have to figure out a way to get Dane back. It might be as simple a matter as making a phone call, but if you have to do anything more than that—<br/>
<br/>
Your mind freezes and goes blank when you try to contemplate the sequel to getting a copy of Mrs. Matthias's brain.<br/>
<br/>
You also wonder about Caleb. He doesn't know what all has been happening. He'd yell at you hard if he knew, but he's your only real friend in this mess. Maybe you should tell Lindsay (when she shows up) that you want him out here, that you'll need his help.<br/>
<br/>
You pause, considering your options. You dig inside the pack of supplies and pull out the two brain bands you and Caleb made the other afternoon, before it all went to shit. You slip them into your pocket. <i>Just in case.</i><br/>
<br/>
And maybe you should prepare for other eventualities. You've got a couple of hours before Lindsay shows up. Plenty of time to make a new mask. With that and one of your three brain bands, you could grab her, copy her, lock her in the basement, and impersonate her long enough to collect the mask stuff and ...<br/>
<br/>
... And then what? Take off for new places and let Evie's friends deal their own problems by themselves?<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Mind of Marianne Matthias
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Though you're sorely tempted to use the magic supplies to escape, you resist. Mostly this is because the mad plan you concocted—replace Lindsay Cho with yourself, then leave town—leads to even blanker and scarier "What If?' scenarios than staying in town and helping her and her friends get Evie back. <br/>
<br/>
But the idea of being extra prepared still appeals to you, and you need something to keep from dying of boredom. So after completing the brain band, you scrape up just enough further magical material to make one last mask. Then you buckle down to make a fourth brain band.<br/>
<br/>
Then, because you have enough material still, you make a fifth one.<br/>
<br/>
Because there's nothing else to do.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That's all you get done before you hear the crunch of tires on the grass outside. You quickly hide the extra stuff that you made, and are sitting on a desk with the most innocent look you can muster as the door opens.<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay comes in. "Are you done?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
You hold up the brain band. "Are you going to let me out now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, but we're going to wait for Joe and Andy to show up. Then we're all going to go find this Dane guy's mom." She steps back outside and locks the door.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Hmm.</i> If you were going to go with that half-assed "replace Lindsay" plan, that would have been your moment to make a move. Oh well.<br/>
<br/>
It's almost fifteen minutes before the other guys show up, and you hear Lindsay's snappish voice as she berates them. You're at the top of the stairs when it opens again, and the three sophomores fall back a little in surprise. <br/>
<br/>
"Okay, can we get this done with?" you demand. Lindsay glowers and says something about you all taking her car. But Joe seems to read your mind, for he suggests taking separate cars, with you riding with him.<br/>
<br/>
"Great work on those masks," he tells you. "Thanks for that." His lips twitch into a grin. "We'll try to keep Lindsay and them from killing you."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks. Did you set them up yet? Use 'em, I mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"The masks? No, haven't had a chance. Except Justin and Grant probably got theirs made already." He looks over his shoulder at Lindsay's car, which is following. "We haven't decided if we should tell Andy, 'cos he might tell Bhodi, and—" He shrugs. "Is it fun?" he asks after an awkward silence.<br/>
<br/>
"Pretending to be someone else? I guess." Privately, you make a face. "Depends on who you're being. At the very least, you get a chance to be bored in someone else's life instead of your own."<br/>
<br/>
He laughs. "Your friend, Caleb. He doesn't know about all this, right? I mean, that we all know what you were doing with Bhodi, and about the masks, and—"<br/>
<br/>
What a dumb question. "When would I've told him? I didn't have a phone, and you locked me in the basement." Suspicion seizes you. "Did he say anything to Bhodi today? Thinking he was me?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. I guess he might try that." Joe darts you a quick, worried look. "You want us to tell him? In case he can help with this mess?"<br/>
<br/>
You can hardly believe that he broached the idea himself, and you try not to sound too enthusiastic. "Might be a good idea," you allow. "But maybe Lindsay and the girls wouldn't want that."<br/>
<br/>
"You know, Evie's her friend," Joe replies with a scowl, "and our friend too, and we want to get her back. But when all that's done, it's not gonna be her and Paulina's party anymore. Right?" He looks over at you. "It's like, you and me and Grant and Justin, and your friend Caleb maybe? It's gonna be us doing things. Right?"<br/>
<br/>
You would prefer it just to be you and Caleb, but you like the idea that Joe and his friends are definitely on your side, and that as long as you promise to help them they'll help you because they want to be partners with you at the end. You put out your fist for a bump. "Damn straight," you say.<br/>
<br/>
He grins, and bashes your fist with his. His cheeks redden.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You've no idea how to handle Dane's mom when you get to her place, and Joe isn't helpful either. But it goes off surprisingly well. You knock on the door to her trailer, and when she answers—looking very sleepy and a little stoned—you tell her you're friends of Dane's. She says something about how he moved, and then, almost automatically, you pull the brain band from your pocket and slap it against her forehead. You and Joe catch her in your arms and carry her inside, laying her on the busted-up sofa while Lindsay calls you a bunch of dirty names. "What else were we going to do?" Joe retorts, which shuts her up even as she flushes. She then says something about "searching the place," and she and Joe scamper into the back of the trailer.<br/>
<br/>
Whatever they find, it's not anything worth talking about or taking, for ten minutes later the four of you are outside again with the brain band. "I'll put it on," you tell Lindsay when she asks what happens next. "But buy me some coffee or something someplace. This isn't going to be fun, and I don't wanna have our talk in the back of someone's car."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't deserve anything nice," Lindsay retorts, but Joe shushes her and says he'll treat you to something at Starbucks. As you're sure the brain band will knock you out, you crawl into his back seat and lay down. You don't even look at the name before laying it across your forehead.<br/>
<br/>
It weighs on you like anvil, and it drags your head and body down with it as it sinks into someplace warm and soft and deep.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You are wafted back to a wakefulness that is still so near to sleep that you stare at the roof of Joe's car for a very long time before it occurs to you that you're conscious again. And even then, it's the cutting out of the engine that causes you to stir. You look over. Joe is leaning around his front seat to look down at you quizzically.<br/>
<br/>
You stare back at him. He looks very familiar. Oh, you know it's Joe, but it's someone else, too. You're sure of it. There's someone else inside or behind that face. Or you've seen it before. You gasp: <i>Is it reincarnation?</i> Yes, that must be it! You're seeing his previous soul, maybe a whole parade of them, fitting inside his face like nesting matryoshka dolls. Now, if you can just recognize them, figure out who they are, you can totally blow his mind by telling who he was in his past lives!<br/>
<br/>
He says something, and he says it again, and he says it a third time—all of his faces simultaneously crinkling up with concern—before you realize that by "Are you okay?" he's not trying to impart a second, hidden message.<br/>
<br/>
Why do you feel this way? Oh, right, it's because you've got people inside you too, same as he's got them inside him. But yours is ... You take a deep breath. You know the answer to this. It's somewhere in there.<br/>
<br/>
Marianne? Yes, Marianne Matthias. She's inside you, because you copied her brain, and she --<br/>
<br/>
You rub your forehead—a delicious feeling—and giggle. "That really is some good stuff," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God. Will, are you <i>high</i>?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, wow!</i> You are! Not long before you and your friends knocked on your door, you'd lit herself up a bowl of—<br/>
<br/>
You take a deep breath, and exhale. "Yeah. This is gonna be real interesting."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Somehow Joe gets it all out of you, in the corner of the Starbucks, with some scalding black coffee that does nothing to sober you up. You're not so far gone that you can't talk or answer basic questions, though Joe tells you afterward that those answers dripped out of you like cold syrup. When he's had enough, or thinks he's gotten enough, he takes you back to the car and uses the magic words you taught Justin to tear the brain band out of you.<br/>
<br/>
And that works out well too. That very pleasant fog is gone when wake, but the basic memories are still there, and you're able to clear up any last confusions you may have caused in your stoned state. You're surprised—once you're sober again—to see that you and Joe are alone. What happened to Lindsay and Andy? Joe says that when he saw what kind of state you were in, he sent them away. When you had Marianne inside you, you hadn't even noticed they weren't there.<br/>
<br/>
But it's time to go find them and explain what you found out. He drives you over to Lindsay's house, where a great crowd is waiting when you arrive: Lindsay, Andy, Justin, Grant, Paulina, and Melanie. <br/>
<br/>
There are two surprises waiting for you.<br/>
<br/>
The first is that Bhodi isn't among the crowd waiting.<br/>
<br/>
The second is that Caleb is.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111
author_id: seuzz
title: An Old Conspirator and a New Conspiracy
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Christ, Will," Caleb grumbles. "You really are a fuck up."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb Johansson has been your best friend for a very long time. But he has this habit of treating you as the idiot responsible when things to wrong. <br/>
<br/>
Sometimes you're able to shrug it off by giving him the bird. But this isn't one of those times.<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Me?</i>" you yell back at him. "<i>I</i> fucked things up?" The crowd of sophomores you tries to shush you, but you plow on. "Who's the shit-for-brains who pasted Gordon in the face with a mask? 'You have to switch places with him, Will'," you shriek. "'It's the only way he won't kill you'! Christ on a stick, Johansson! That's how this <i>whole thing got started!"</i><br/>
<br/>
He turns very red. "It was a <i>great idea,</i> Will, and if you'd listened to me instead of going around half-cocked you'd be—"<br/>
<br/>
Some of the sophomores grab you when you fly at him like a bantam rooster. What were you thinking, that you wanted Caleb's help? You'll know better next time.<br/>
<br/>
"Both of you need to shut up," Lindsay barks. To you she adds, "What did you find out about Evie?"<br/>
<br/>
"First of all, tell me what this fuckface is doing here."<br/>
<br/>
"We had to tell him what was going on. He got to talking to Bhodi—"<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos you didn't tell me you changed back again!" Caleb yells.<br/>
<br/>
"Because I was being held prisoner in a dungeon!"<br/>
<br/>
"It wasn't a dungeon!" hollers Andy.<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay looses a shrill whistle through her teeth. "Your friend tried talking to Bhodi," she says. "That's all. So we had to tell him what was going on. Then he wanted to come out to see you, and it seemed like a good idea—"<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos he likes to gloat when I get in trouble!"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't have to stay here!" Caleb turns to the door, but Lindsay pushes him onto the bed. <br/>
<br/>
"No, you're staying!" she shouts. "You're one of the ones who caused this mess!"<br/>
<br/>
"Prescott's the one who got up in your friend's grill! Bitch!" he adds when she punches him.<br/>
<br/>
"Get off him!" you holler, and yank Lindsay off Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
So, it's a real mess all the way around, but after a lot more yelling things finally settle down somewhat. There's one unexpected dividend to the fight: The way you went at Lindsay after she went at Caleb calms things between you and your best friend. It's a reminder that you've got something like a common enemy.<br/>
<br/>
Once everyone is off a boil, you relate for the full company what you learned from Marianne Matthias's brain band. The facts are pretty straightforward, even though Dane's mom doesn't fully understand them. But: <br/>
<br/>
Right after you put Evie inside the mask of Dane, his cousin Dwayne—that drug dealer who warned you that Chen would be coming to fuck you up—came to the trailer and told Marianne that he'd arranged to send Dane to a military school, and that he would be leaving that evening. Naturally, this freaked both "Dane" and his mom out, but when Dwayne explained that Dane was in a shitload of trouble, and that his own personal safety required him to go, his mom relented. Dwayne paid for everything, and put "Dane" on a commuter flight to Oregon.<br/>
<br/>
"Could you call the school as his mom, get them to send Evie back out?" Lindsay asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Who pays for the plane ticket? His mom hasn't got any money. I get the impression her nephew pays her and Dane's expenses. He'd have to pay for the ticket."<br/>
<br/>
"What about using a mask of him?"<br/>
<br/>
"But she had to sign the papers to put him in. Probably she's the only one who can get him out."<br/>
<br/>
"So you'd need both?" Andy asks.<br/>
<br/>
You make a face, and nod.<br/>
<br/>
There's a silence. Then Lindsay says, in a hard voice, "You said you'd do anything to get Evie back, Will."<br/>
<br/>
"I know," you sigh. "What are you doing about Evie until she gets back?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're taking turns being her," says Paulina. "So you're not the only one making a sacrifice here."<br/>
<br/>
You think you catch a furtive look on Andy's face, and you're sure you see Grant's eyes light up. Yeah, you bet the guys would be totally willing to help shoulder the burden of keeping Evie in circulation by sharing her mask. But you can also bet what Paulina and Lindsay and Melanie would have to say about <i>that.</i><br/>
<br/>
While you're wryly amusing yourself with these reflections, Joe pipes up. "We can help Will if he needs, like, someone else inside another mask," he says. He looks around, and Justin and Grant both nod.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'll help," says Caleb. "The moron's right, this is all partly my fault."<br/>
<br/>
You and he exchange a long glance. Despite the "moron" crack, he's got a twinkle in his eye. You can't fight down the half smile that comes onto your face, and he doesn't resist the one that comes onto his.<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay snorts. "Okay, so that you're all now friends again, what do we need to do?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After reasoning it all through, it doesn't take long to come up with a plan. You will need to get a mask of Marianne Matthias anyway, if you're going to imitate her voice on the phone or her face on Skype, if that's what it takes to get Dane out of the military school. And her face is probably the only one you can safely use to get close to Dwayne—and you'll likely need his face and mind both if you're going to get to any cash stashes he's got sitting around.<br/>
<br/>
It's almost dinner time by now, but Lindsay insists on getting started as soon as possible. "As possible" proves to be "an hour later" since two masks that she took from the basement haven't been polished, and you have to do that first. Only then do you drive back with Joe and Caleb to the Matthiases' trailer.<br/>
<br/>
This time, no one answers the door. Caleb is in favor of giving up and going home, but you've no place else to be—except an elementary school basement—so you look for inspiration on the brain band you already made of Dane's mom. After you revive, and after your two friends have shaken a little sobriety into your weed-addled brain, you "remember" that there's a key inside the flowerpot next to the stairs. With it, your trio lets yourselves inside. The place is empty, except for the disgusting mess of old packages, discarded clothes, moldy towels, saggy furniture, and ratty rugs. The stink of stale weed drifts in the air. <br/>
<br/>
With Caleb and Joe propping you up, you lead them into her bedroom and grab up some clothes for the upcoming pretense: wormy pants, a blue t-shirt, a bra and some undergarments, and flip-flops. You camp out in Dane's bedroom, which is still piled up with his schoolwork and old clothes. Talk is clipped and meaningless—mostly variations on, "Oh, here's something even grosser than that thing we found before"—and after Joe and Caleb text dinner excuses to their respective parents, Joe goes out to get some burgers for the three of you. Caleb looks at you and shakes his head.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, don't start that shit up again," you say. At least you think that's what you say. Your head feels like it's full of helium. "I didn't fuck anything up until— And I might be high, but I can still—" You make a weak fist.<br/>
<br/>
"That's what I'm talking about," he says. "You're high. I can't believe this. You're all fucked up on weed, and you didn't even have to smoke any."<br/>
<br/>
"It's 'cos Marianne was high when I—"<br/>
<br/>
"I know how come." He shakes his head again. "But this is what it's like when Will Prescott is high. Christ, I'm glad you're not a stoner, man. It's a good look on Dane, but on you it's just—"<br/>
<br/>
"Just what?" You are actually feeling very mellow, and your blood is too thick to really boil, but you know you should be offended by his words.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno, man. I'd look just as stupid, I bet."<br/>
<br/>
"You bet?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Both of us, we're more sugar and caffeine junkies."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Mm.</i> He is skinny, same as you. But now that he's mentioned it, you wonder what he would be like stoned. "You wanna try it? Because I can—" You fumble at your forehead.<br/>
<br/>
He lets you humiliate yourself this way for a minute, then grabs your hands and pushes you back onto the bed. "Sure, you look like you're having fun. I'll give it a try." You close your eyes as his fingers grasp your forehead.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You come up out of a very relaxing sleep to find yourself sprawling on the bed of Dane Matthias with a passed-out Caleb next to you. You sit up hurriedly, and inch away. You smile when you think of a spaced-out Caleb coming to.<br/>
<br/>
You barely have time for that thought, though, before Caleb's phone rings, and you answer. "Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
A pause. "Who's this? Will?"<br/>
<br/>
"Joe?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I'm out front. What's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing. We're just waiting. Why are you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because there's a car out front, wasn't here when I left."<br/>
<br/>
<i>WTF?</i> Then you hear a noise outside, from the living room. Someone moving around. The creak of sofa springs.<br/>
<br/>
"Shit," you squeak. "She must have come home. Hang on."<br/>
<br/>
You drop the phone and creep out the door for a peek. On the sofa is Marianne Matthias, with her eyes closed.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Perfect. You can get her face now.</i><br/>
<br/>
You glance back at Caleb. An evil, delicious thought forms. <i>And Caleb can play her for the part that comes next.</i></span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112
author_id: seuzz
title: Bonding with Bhodi
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You quickly dismiss the temptation. It would be hard to get a stoned Caleb Johansson, disguised as Dane's mom, out of the trailer without causing a small calamity.<br/>
<br/>
You rush forward on tiptoes with the blank mask and tip it onto the woman's face. Then you race back to the bedroom, where you pry the brain band out of Caleb. Joe has been squawking your name all this time on the phone, but only now do you answer him, telling him that you're making the mask now.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb wakes before the mask comes out Dane's mom. He's groggy, but you slap some energy into him and tell him to get out to Joe's car before your victim comes to. A minute later you scoop the mask off Mrs. Matthias and race out the door. You dive into the front seat of Joe's car with a terrified laugh, knocking over a paper sack and scattering hot fries.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your trio retreats to a nearby park to eat. There's some talk about the new brain band, and whether the marijuana haze will ever fade from it. Caleb finally makes the point that if the copy of Marianne Matthias is ever going to sober up, it won't be while no one is wearing the band. And when he adds that <i>he</i> can't stay out stoned all night, you grumpily surrender and put the band back on.<br/>
<br/>
Which proves to be fun when you get the munchies. And it proves to be better fun when you point out that you'll need another mask for Dwayne Macaulay, probably, and that you're too stoned to make one. There's some talk about what to do about that, but you don't follow it, and are content to let them drop you off at the basement, where you fall asleep.<br/>
<br/>
It's dark when you wake, except for a light in the corner, from which comes the whine of a car buffer. You wonder a little at that, but only lay very still, collecting your thoughts until the whine stops.<br/>
<br/>
But you sit up—sore and stiff and cold all over—when the silhouetted figure rises and approaches. <br/>
<br/>
It's Bhodi. "You awake?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you say, and scramble back from your one-time victim. "What—? Uh, what are you doing here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Working on that mask. Helping out." He shrugs his lean shoulders. "Your friend's outside. I came with him, said I'd help."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Uh, cool. Are you done?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think so. I'm taking it out for him to look at."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll come too." You swing your legs off the table.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you okay? Your friend said you were pretty stoned."<br/>
<br/>
"I was. I think I'm okay now. Better, anyway." You're still light-headed, and you wobble on your feet as you get up. Now that you can think more clearly, you realize that Mrs. Matthias did not smoke as much as you thought she had. Bhodi gives you the time when you ask him, and some calculations based on what he says tells you that you should be past the worst of it.<br/>
<br/>
Outside you find the dusk almost gone. Caleb greets you and leads you and Bhodi over to his car where, under the dome light, he examines the sophomore's work. "Looks good to me," he says.<br/>
<br/>
You're muzzy enough in the head still that you don't say anything about what's going on until Caleb asks if you're ready for part two of the plan—whatever it is. "Not that I'm complaining," you reply. "But I'm a little lost. What was going on while I was sleeping?"<br/>
<br/>
"Joe and I stopped by at Lindsay's after we dropped you off," Caleb says, "to tell her how we were doing." His voice gets a little bit of an edge in it. "Bhodi was there. He decided he wanted to tag along. Joe had other stuff to do, so he helped because you were passed out."<br/>
<br/>
Naturally, you're tongue-tied around your erstwhile victim, and can only give him a sidelong glance when you ask, "How are you doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm okay. Better." He scratches awkwardly at a spot on his back. "So you and your friend are going to—" He licks his lips. "You need two disguises to get Evie back?"<br/>
<br/>
You catch Caleb giving you a glance. "I think we have to. You want to help out? I mean, it's my fault—our fault—that all this happened. But if you—"<br/>
<br/>
"I already helped," he says. "I worked on that thing." He looks around, as though he could spot something better to look at in the dark. "Is there anything else that needs doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think so."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh." He sounds disappointed. "I think I'm going to walk around a bit, then." He walks off on those stork-like legs.<br/>
<br/>
He's gone about a dozen yards when Caleb jabs you in the back. "Go after him," he hisses.<br/>
<br/>
"What for?"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean, what for? Isn't it obvious?"<br/>
<br/>
"What is?"<br/>
<br/>
He snorts. "Christ. He wants to talk. Probably to you. He didn't have anything to say to me while we were alone." He shoves you when you start to protest.<br/>
<br/>
So on tottering feet you stumble after Bhodi. It takes no time to catch up to him. "Hey. So, um—" <i>The fuck are you supposed to say?</i> "It was great of you to help out with the polishing stuff. That's always the shit part of—" You trail off, and feel yourself blushing all over. <i>This is so pathetic.</i> As if Bhodi, the kid whose life you tried to steal while forcing him to become someone else—and a girl, no less—wants to hear how glad you are that he helped out a little. And what is Caleb thinking, that Bhodi wants to talk to you? He wouldn't even let you apologize to him last night after you got caught.<br/>
<br/>
But somehow your dumb teenage male brain manages to lurch instinctively toward the words without your intending them. "Look, I wanna say I'm sorry again about all this. It was a dumb and selfish thing to do, to you, to Evie, to everyone. I'm really serious about trying to put things back."<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't say anything, he doesn't even nod. Instead, he stands with his hands in his pockets and stares off at the houses across the street from the old playground. "So if you want to hit me—" you say.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't wanna hit you," he says. "I just want to understand—" Emotion strangles his voice. He looks down at the ground, and kicks at it savagely. "Oh, never mind."<br/>
<br/>
"No, go on, tell me. Ask me. I wanna make everything up to you."<br/>
<br/>
He kicks and he kicks and he kicks at the ground. Finally, he says, "Can you just tell me how come you did it to me? Why you picked <i>me</i> instead of somebody else?"<br/>
<br/>
The question crushes you. It means he's still not forgiven you. Of course, why should he? In his place you wouldn't say something cheerfully dumb like <i>No harm, no foul, no problem.</i> <br/>
<br/>
"Look, it wasn't personal. It wasn't anything against you. You were just, well, available."<br/>
<br/>
His head sinks. His voice is thick with gloom. "So there wasn't anything special about me."<br/>
<br/>
That's when it hits you. He's not asking because he's resentful. He's asking because he wonders if maybe you <i>wanted</i> to be him.<br/>
<br/>
And there is actually a flattering answer to <i>that</i> question.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Well, okay, actually, there was <i>one</i> reason I grabbed you," you tell him. "While I was being Evie I got to listen to all the girls, like Paulina, talking about you. Uh, you know how I asked her out on a date while I was, uh, being you?" You give him a moment to nod or speak, but he says nothing. "Well, it's because I heard them talking about you. They <i>like</i> you, Paulina especially. So I was thinking I could—"<br/>
<br/>
You come real close to dancing backward, lest he hit you.<br/>
<br/>
"I have kind of a hard time talking to girls, man," you say. "It's a whole lot easier when you know that they like you. And I knew that they liked <i>you,</i> so— So that's how come I picked <i>you</i> instead of Joe or Andy or Grant or someone like that."<br/>
<br/>
It's so dark now that you can't make out his expression, but after a moment he raises his hands and grind them into his eyes. When he speaks, you can tell he's almost overcome with emotion.<br/>
<br/>
"The thing is," he says in a very raw voice, "you let me remember those things you did, and you were—" His voice cracks. "You were better at being me than I was!"<br/>
<br/>
You are too shocked to say anything but "No I wasn't!"<br/>
<br/>
"You were! With Paulina! With Joe and Grant! In my classes. The way you— I wouldn't have hit Andrew! You know how you did that in Mr. Carr's class? I couldn't do that! It's like— Fuck!" he wails.<br/>
<br/>
You pull him close, and only after you're holding him do you realize how instinctive it felt to pull him into an embrace. This isn't like you.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, but it <i>is</i> like Marianne Matthias. You've still got her brain band inside you. Her instincts are helping guide you.<br/>
<br/>
Then you remember the plan you made with Caleb last night, just before you got caught. You were going to make a copy of Gordon's personality and wear it, so that you had his talents along with your own.<br/>
<br/>
What would Bhodi say if you offered to give him a copy of your brain to wear?<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121
author_id: seuzz
title: One Bhodi, Two Brains
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Stop it," you tell Bhodi as hold him. "I wasn't better at being you. I just gave less of a fuck about it." He keeps rigid in your arms. "I knew what you wanted, I knew what you'd like to do. Like with Paulina, and with Andrew. But I was also me, and ... I dunno, maybe that just gave me the tiniest little extra push to do the stuff you wanted to do. You'd have done it, with just that little extra push."<br/>
<br/>
You feel the pulse in your throat when you add, "I could gave that to you."<br/>
<br/>
"Give me what?" Bhodi asks. His voice is muffled, and you can feel him tense up a little.<br/>
<br/>
You release him. "That little bit of me." You sigh when he just blinks at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, what was it like when I was pretending to be you?" you ask. "So there was this guy walking around, looking like he was Bhodi Weaver. Like <i>you</i> walk around acting like Bhodi Weaver. And he talked and acted like Bhodi Weaver, just like you talk and think like him." You can't keep a corner of your mouth from twitching into a smile, though Bhodi remains grave. "But he had the brain of Will Prescott inside him, too."<br/>
<br/>
You punch him in the arm. "So what if we put the brain of Will Prescott inside <i>you?</i> Then you'd be just like that guy. The brains of Bhodi Weaver and Will Prescott, inside the body of Bhodi Weaver. You'd have all the stuff I had while I was pretending to be you." You shrug. "Which means you could—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, God!" He turns away and hangs his head. For a moment you think you've badly miscalculated.<br/>
<br/>
But then he looks over his shoulder at you. "You could do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure! I'm not proud of my brain. It gets me into a lot of trouble, and there's a lot of people, like your friend Andy, who'd be a lot better—"<br/>
<br/>
"I mean, there's a way you could do it?"<br/>
<br/>
"We could do it tonight," you tell him. "In thirty minutes you could be walking around with my brain inside your head."<br/>
<br/>
"But how?"<br/>
<br/>
"The book shows a way of doing it, and I've got the stuff already made up. I made it up for us to use on Dwayne Macauly, but we can use it on you and I can make up some more. It's just a thing that copies brains and mind, okay? Not the whole body. Then you put it on, and you can remember everything that person knew, get their personality, too." You shrug. "I'm wearing one right now. Marianne Matthias."<br/>
<br/>
"Right," Bhodi says. "I heard that you were ..." He squints at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. We could do the same thing with you."<br/>
<br/>
But you don't press him. Just because you've offered to let him get inside your brain doesn't mean you're keen to let him. You see the advantages of it. Letting him see what  you're like, that you're not a bad guy, might help him forgive you more easily. But there's a lot of junk up in your attic that you'd just as soon he not explore.<br/>
<br/>
You catch him giving you a couple of sidelong looks, and when his shoulders slump you figure he's decided not to take you up on the offer. But then he surprises you by saying, "Okay. I'll try it out. You know. For a day or something."<br/>
<br/>
You grin despite yourself. "Sure, if that's how long you can stand me for."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So what did you talk about?" Caleb asks after Bhodi has gone off with a copy of yourself inside his skull, and it's just the two of you inside the basement.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, stuff," you reply. You haven't told him what you gave Bhodi. "What did you talk to him about with him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I told him not to be mad at you, that you were a moron but there wasn't any harm in you."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks. What did <i>he</i> say?"<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't he tell you? You two seem pretty tight all of a sudden."<br/>
<br/>
You make a face and decline to dignify the remark with an answer.<br/>
<br/>
"So, I don't have to be back until eleven," Caleb says. "Want me to keep you company?"<br/>
<br/>
"Please. For a start, you can tell me why you made a new mask instead of polishing the last one over at Lindsay's."<br/>
<br/>
"Because maybe I don't want to look at Lindsay's fat face?" Caleb snorts and sits on the edge of the table atop which you are sprawled. "Because I still want to get one of those masks onto someone so I can have some fun? I told Bhodi we'd make a new one so that we'd have a spare in case we need to copy <i>another</i> person, but I know what I want it for. You know," he adds in a lower voice, even though it's just the two of you in the basement and no one can hear you. "If you've nothing else to do, we can make up a brain band to go with it. Could be useful if—"<br/>
<br/>
He breaks off as you get to your feet and shuffle over to the hiding place. From it you pull the second polished mask and three brain bands. They clatter on the table top as you spread them before Caleb. His eyes bulge.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck! When did you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't have anything else to do, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"So what were <i>you</i> planning to do with them?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. I just wanted to be prepared."<br/>
<br/>
He grins. "Boo-yah! So, you want to make up some more masks?"<br/>
<br/>
"You can," you grunt. "I'm just ready for the day to be over."<br/>
<br/>
So you sit in the corner with Caleb's cell phone, finishing yet another brain band while he makes six more masks—two of which he polishes—for he had bought a lot of materials.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I figure your new friends aren't going to be content with the ones they already got," he says, "so we might as have too many to go around as not enough."<br/>
<br/>
His reference confuses you for a moment. And even after you've figured it out, you play it cagey. "I don't know what you mean," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
He smiles faintly at you. "Is it supposed to be a secret from me? Too bad. Joe told me you made up some masks for him and his friends."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, that. Yeah. Did he say something about who was going to be running things after we get Evie back?"<br/>
<br/>
"Are we really going to do that?"<br/>
<br/>
The question shocks you, but only for a moment, because it's exactly the kind of challenge Caleb would make. "Sure. It's better than having Lindsay and her friends royally pissed at me."<br/>
<br/>
"I just can't picture you going out there to get him back, Will," Caleb says. "Especially not as that potheaded MILF."<br/>
<br/>
That's another shock, and a more long-lasting one. "You think Marianne Matthias is a MILF?"<br/>
<br/>
"If you cleaned her up. Use your imagination, Prescott," he continues in a pitying tone, "if you don't got enough testosterone to see it."<br/>
<br/>
You flip him off.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're wakened by Joe the next morning with your breakfast. You'll say this for life in the basement. Though it's easy to go stir-crazy, it's nice being able to wake late on school days. Especially Fridays, which this is.<br/>
<br/>
"Any chance you could let me out of here? Aren't we all friends again?" you ask Joe as you wolf down a donut. Instead of bolting back up to go to school, Joe is grinning idiotically at you from the stairs as he watches you eat.<br/>
<br/>
"Where would you go?" he asks, and that grin stays plastered in place on the front of his round, Charlie Brown-like head. "How would you get there?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. Thanks for keeping me company," you add, "but don't you have to get to school?"<br/>
<br/>
"I got time. It's only seven-thirty."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, you could let me sleep in." You scowl as he giggles. "You got a feather up your ass or something?" He only giggles again.<br/>
<br/>
It's as you're sipping on some still-scalding coffee that it hits you, and at the realization you almost drop the cup. "You're not Joe!" you shout.<br/>
<br/>
He squeals. "Of course I am!"<br/>
<br/>
"No, you're fucking not! You got those masks sealed up, didn't you? And I hung out enough with Joe yesterday, I know he doesn't— Fuck you, Grant!"<br/>
<br/>
He squeals like an excited pig and turns bright red. "Guess I gotta work on it a little, huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"If you don't want the girls figuring it out, yeah! But except for the personality, you look just like him."<br/>
<br/>
"You should make up some of those brain bands for us," he says, "so it'll be perfect."<br/>
<br/>
You grunt. You've got some made up, but you don't want to waste any.<br/>
<br/>
"Was it fun being that guy's mom?" he asks. "Joe said you were totally high."<br/>
<br/>
"That wore off. It was fun while it lasted, but I'm not looking forward to putting on the whole disguise."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're going through with that?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Him too?</i> "I told Lindsay I would. Don't you want Evie back?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, what I mean is, you're gonna pretend to be her, make the trip?"<br/>
<br/>
"Someone has to."<br/>
<br/>
"She's hot, you know. That guy's mom." He shifts from foot to foot. "You know, I could do it. We wouldn't have to tell Lindsay and them. And while I'm out of town, you could be me."</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212
author_id: seuzz
title: The Return of Marianne Matthias
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Joe's offer—<br/>
<br/>
But it's really Grant wearing a mask of Joe Dickerson.<br/>
<br/>
Well, either way, it's a very tempting offer, but you decline it. "I promised Lindsay and Paulina I'd do it," you explain. "I don't want you thinking I'm the kind of guy who breaks his promises."<br/>
<br/>
Grant snickers and shrugs, possibly by way of showing that he doesn't care either way, possibly because you've embarrassed him.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," he says, "but I think that's supposed to happen this afternoon."<br/>
<br/>
"What? Me leaving town to get Evie?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. But don't you have to get a mask of some other guy? I think that's happening this afternoon."<br/>
<br/>
Actually it happens a little later that morning.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
 You're right in the middle of polishing up a mask when the door opens and Lindsay Cho steps in. You both jump at the sight of each other.<br/>
<br/>
You jump because, of course, you weren't expecting to see her so early. She jumps because she's just caught you in the act of polishing a mask. "I thought you guys got that done last night," she says. "What's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just polishing up a mask," you say. "To use on whatsisname?"<br/>
<br/>
"You were supposed to do that last night! What were you and your friend doing all night, sucking each other off?"<br/>
<br/>
You redden, and against your better judgment you pull out another one of the polished masks. "No! We got it done!" you say as you brandish it at her. "This is another one."<br/>
<br/>
She explodes. "Another one? The fuck do we need <i>another one</i> for?"<br/>
<br/>
"For just in case! Caleb and Joe bought enough stuff to make a couple of more masks, and there's nothing else to do with it except—"<br/>
<br/>
"Christ! We can't leave you fuckers alone for one fucking  minute!" As Lindsay clatters down the stairs, you shove a chair over to hide the small nest of masks you've already accumulated. <br/>
<br/>
"Here!" she says, and from her giant purse pulls out a mask. "I was bringing you this one to polish up, so you might as well do it now too." She thrusts it at you.<br/>
<br/>
"What time is it?" you ask. "Don't you have to be at school?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm skipping." She grimaces. "But as long as I'm here— " She grabs you by the arm. "We can go get that guy's face. Do you have the mask of that woman?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dane's mom?" You wrench yourself free. "Sure. Gimme a minute to get things together."<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay fumes as you make a great show of picking up the mask and checking to make sure it is the right one, and of searching for and finding the brain band to go with it, and checking to see that it's the right one too. You wad Marianne Matthias's clothes up into a ball, pick up a blank mask to use on Dwayne Macaulay, and dip into the hidden pile to retrieve a blank brain band.<br/>
<br/>
Up in her car—a relatively new family sedan, and quite clean on the inside—you ask her what the plan for the day is. "I told you, getting a copy of that guy. Dur."<br/>
<br/>
"You're going in with me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Do you need any help?"<br/>
<br/>
"The guy's a scary-ass drug dealer," you remind her. "You probably shouldn't, unless you— Never mind."<br/>
<br/>
"Unless I what?"<br/>
<br/>
You give her a sidelong glance. If she hadn't gotten so pissed at you, and so gotten you pissed at her, you'd bite your tongue. "Unless you take your pants off and distract him with your pussy, I don't think you're going to be a lot of help."<br/>
<br/>
It's a mercy she doesn't have a stroke right then and there.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, she pulls over in front of a house, and after fighting her voice past some kind of blockage she taps out a text on her phone. She says nothing more about it, though, and just tells you to get changed into Dane's mother's things. You clamber into the back and, after laying down, strip off your clothes and put on Mrs. Matthias's pants and t-shirt. After that, you fit the brain band inside the mask and drop both of them simultaneously onto your face. <br/>
<br/>
All the lights go out.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're very stiff when you wake up, and there's a fog inside your head. No, it's more like a burning haze. <i>Jesus, I need some water,</i> you think, and sit up.<br/>
<br/>
You almost brain yourself on the roof of a car.<br/>
<br/>
Wincing and blinking, you look around. You're in the back seat of a car. <i>Dane?</i> Did Dane pick you up again? No, that can't be right for ... some reason that will come to you. <i>Heather?</i> It's a woman driving, so you try that name. "Hey, Heather honey?"<br/>
<br/>
The driver looks around with a fierce frown, and you fling yourself back. <i>It's Mrs. Hu, the woman you worked for nine months in her nail and pedicure salon until she caught you stoned at work once too often and canned your ass while shrieking all kinds of ching-chang-chow curses at you! She's come to get you!<br/>
<br/>
No, wait, it's not Mrs. Huh, it's ... Hang on, don't tell me. It's ...</i><br/>
<br/>
"Will?" she says.<br/>
<br/>
<i>No, that's not her name. Tip of my tongue ...</i><br/>
<br/>
"Will?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>No, that's your name. Is it?</i><br/>
<br/>
The universe rushes in at you. You groan and bury your face in your knees, squeezing your breasts together.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Breasts.</i> You raise your head and look.<br/>
<br/>
You've got breasts inside your t-shirt. Big floppy breasts. You pull the collar of your shirt forward and peer at them.<br/>
<br/>
They're whales! Big, pale, wobbly whales! With pointy tips you could suck on and suck on forever. Dane used to suck on them, when he was just a wee little baby, and his daddy, Dane Senior, used to suck on them too.<br/>
<br/>
You squeak.<br/>
<br/>
"Will!"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God, yes? I'm here." You feel your eyes rolling in their sockets. "We're all here. Both of us."<br/>
<br/>
"Who's 'both'?"<br/>
<br/>
"Me and Dane's mom. Jesus, I just had a flashback to him as little kid, and her holding him and—" You gulp. "Nursing him."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, Dane. My little boy. Growing up so sweet and handsome. Wish he could do better in school, but what are you going to do?</i><br/>
<br/>
Tears start in the corner of your eyes as you think of Dane, at military school. Turning him into a ... a <i>killbot!</i> No, not your sweet baby Dane!<br/>
<br/>
<i>"Will!"</i> Lindsay leans across the back of the seat and sinks her claws into your shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shouldn't she be driving?</i> You bolt upright—<br/>
<br/>
—then realize that the car's not in motion. You're parked in front of a strip center.<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay puts her face close to yours and shows you her teeth. "Sober up!"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, alright! Jesus! It just ... Well, it takes me a moment to get oriented is all. Where are we?"<br/>
<br/>
"Parked in front of a donut shop, we're not going anywhere until—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Mm. Donuts. You could really go for a bear claw right about now.</i> "What did you say?"<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay seethes. "I said, go inside into the bathroom and finish getting changed."<br/>
<br/>
So that's what you do.<br/>
<br/>
It's Salvation Donuts, just off Borman, owned by the same people who own the Christian school. You almost enrolled Dane there when he was ten—<br/>
<br/>
<i>Focus, Will!</i><br/>
<br/>
You wave cheerily at the girl behind the counter, point at the counter where the donuts are going stale, then waltz into the bathroom. You lock it and—<br/>
<br/>
You're half curious, half disgusted, half bored, and half crazed with desire as you pull off the pants and t-shirt again. Mathematically, this means you are two minds, each of which is of two minds about what you're doing. Marianne is only thirty-two years old, and she still has a lot of her twenty-something charms, if she does say so herself. Her hips are big without being gross, and her thighs and legs curvaceous though without muscle. She's got a flabby little pot belly going, but it's not too bad. And those glorious D cups! She gets lots of stares in the grocery store when she—<br/>
<br/>
<i>Focus, Will!</i><br/>
<br/>
You slip on the panties and the bra, then pull the pants and the t-shirt over them. You kick on the flip-flops, then run some water in the sink and contemplate your reflection in the mirror.<br/>
<br/>
Marianne Matthias has reddish-gold hair like her son. It's thicker than his, though, and she wears it in bangs and in flat curtains that hang almost to her shoulders. You pull it back and wish that someone had thought to bring a scrunchie. Your face is getting a little fuller these days, but—<br/>
<br/>
<i>Hrm.</i> Caleb is right. Marianne Matthias <i>is</i> a MILF. And you flinch when it comes over you that Marianne wouldn't mind being called that. She looks at some of the guys that Dane brings over, eyeballing them while laying on the sofa and pretending to be passed out, and thinking that most of them are hot and probably randy and wouldn't it feel <i>good</i> to have a hard, seventeen-year old cock inside her again. <i>Dane Senior was seventeen when he—<br/>
<br/>
Eugh!</i><br/>
<br/>
You flush the toilet and exit the restroom. Through the plate glass window you see Lindsay fuming, but you kill a minute by pretending to study the donuts before regretfully discovering that you don't have any money in your pockets.<br/>
<br/>
"About fucking time," Lindsay growls when you rejoin her. "Are you going to be a space cadet all afternoon?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you want me in character?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just enough. Okay, finally, here's Justin," she says as a kid with a long face and the complexion of a strawberry gets out of his car. "Think he'll be enough to handle that creep?"<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121
author_id: seuzz
title: Mugging Macaulay
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Will Justin be enough "back up" for when you see Dwayne? <br/>
<br/>
"No, but he'll have to do," you tell Lindsay. To Justin: "Hi, sweetie. Do you go to Westside? Do you know my son? Dane? Dane Matthias?"<br/>
<br/>
Justin turns very pale, and darts a glance at Lindsay. <br/>
<br/>
"Ignore him," she says. "He's been disgusting ever since he got into her mask."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, don't worry, honey," you retort. "You'll get a boyfriend some day."<br/>
<br/>
Justin takes a step back as Lindsay turns a flushed and livid face on you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Justin—<br/>
<br/>
But is it Justin? That was Grant disguised as Joe who showed up at the basement this morning, so you'd bet this is Joe disguised as Justin.<br/>
<br/>
Anyway, Justin doesn't say a lot on the drive out to Dwayne's house. He takes the front seat with Lindsay while you sprawl in the back and give them some necessary cautions.<br/>
<br/>
"You better leave the talking to me," you tell them. "Dwayne's a real live wire." How live a wire? Such a live wire that you retreat deep inside Marianne's mind when thinking about him. At least he treats <i>her</i> at least with a certain civility, and she can contemplate him without shitting herself with fear.<br/>
<br/>
"He's my nephew," you continue. "Well, Marianne's nephew. Her sister's son." <i>Sister's son, sister's son.</i> It sounds like something the Rohan guys say in <i>The Lord of the Rings.</i> Marianne <i>loved The Lord of the Rings</i> growing up, and not just the movies, though she had the <i>aching hots</i> for the guy who played Eomer. He was such a <i>total Viking hottie!</i> Just like Dane Senior. And one of these days Dane Senior's going to come back, and you and Dane Junior are—<br/>
<br/>
"What are you mumbling about?" Lindsay demands. "Who's a Viking hottie?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry," you reply. "Just leave Dwayne to me. The talking, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"You said that five minutes ago, Will. When do we turn?"<br/>
<br/>
You look around, and give some brief directions that will take you north of the interstate, to the decrepit, fly-blown part of town where Dwayne lives. Ten minutes later, you park in front of the cinderblock house with the peeling paint and the weed-infested yard. A blind twitches in the bedroom window.<br/>
<br/>
"Let me do the talking," you tell them again as you get out. "You guys are, um, friends of Dane's, and you're driving me around because ... Um ... " Marianne is an enough of a pot head that you hope her story doesn't have to make sense for Dwayne to buy it.<br/>
<br/>
"Who does the thing with the mask?" Lindsay asks. Your trio look at each other. You almost forgot the mask in the car. <i>God, this is going to be such a clusterfuck, isn't it?</i> "I'll do it," you say. "He won't let you get close to him."<br/>
<br/>
So you've got the mask in your hand as you advance up the cracked sidewalk to the house. The door opens before you can knock at it, and Dwayne, his eyes wide with suspicion, glares at you. "Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
He has the face of a rat: narrow eyes over a thin, pointy nose; mousy brown hair; and face-covering whiskers too short to be a beard but too long to be called "unshaven."<br/>
<br/>
"Hi Dwayne, can I come in?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who's that with you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who, them? Oh, they're friends of Dane's. Dwayne, sweetheart, I need to go to the market and I need some money—"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't need anything, Aunt Marianne. Go home and sleep it off." The door slams in your face.<br/>
<br/>
"Dwayne!" You tap at the door. "Dwayne, come on, sweetie. I want to make some velvet cupcakes. You remember my famous velvet cupcakes." You tap at the door, and scratch at it. "I'll make enough for you, but I need some—"<br/>
<br/>
You squawk as the door opens and Dwayne yanks you inside.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't come down here, Aunt Marianne," he tells you in a very firm but gentle voice. "I've told you before. You just need to go home. I'll get you what you need for your cupcakes and I'll send Ila over with them. Do you need anything from the store?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just some party favors." With a beating heart, you hold up the mask. "See what I found? I got some more, and I thought we could have like a masquerade party. Wouldn't that be fun?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's awesome. But you need to go home."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Oh, do you need a paper and pencil, Dwayne, because I do have some more— Or do you want me to text you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't text me!" Dwayne stalks back into the dim dining nook. You follow.<br/>
<br/>
And as he rummages through a busted-down desk you put a hand on his shoulder. When he ignores that, you reach around and put the mask to his face. <br/>
<br/>
He folds up and sinks to the floor.<br/>
<br/>
For just an instant you blink down at him. Then you scamper back over to the door and let Lindsay and Justin in.<br/>
<br/>
"Got it!" you hiss at them.<br/>
<br/>
"So we can go?" Justin asks.<br/>
<br/>
"No! It's still copying him. It'll be ten minutes or something."<br/>
<br/>
"Should we look around for any money?" Lindsay asks. "Wallet, credit cards, debit cards?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh please," you snort. "Dwayne doesn't keep anything in a <i>bank.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"What about cash," Justin says. You shrug.<br/>
<br/>
So he and Lindsay start searching the joint.<br/>
<br/>
They'd make a mess of it except it's already a mess. Discarded newspapers—does Dwayne actually read those?—and loose papers are strewn over the floor and coffee table. Plates with crusted-over food teeter on the ratty love seat. Three garbage sacks stuffed with the wrappers of packaged food sit in the corner. A laundry rack holds some drying pants and shirts and underwear. You congratulate yourself on thinking ahead when you snatch a full set of those.<br/>
<br/>
And that possibly proves your undoing. Lindsay suggests searching the bedroom, and you think that's a fine idea because then maybe you can get some of Dwayne's socks and sneakers to go with the disguise. You open the door. "Oh, pardon me," you say without thinking as a figure raises up in the bed.<br/>
<br/>
Then you and she scream at each other.<br/>
<br/>
It's Ila, Dwayne's girlfriend, a woman with stringy, strawberry-colored hair. She's in her underwear and a halter top, no more. You take turns gasping "Oh my God" at each other.<br/>
<br/>
Then someone bumbles up behind you. Ila takes one look at Lindsay and her confusion turns to fear and anger. "The fuck is going on? Marianne?"<br/>
<br/>
"Go back to sleep, Ila," you babble. "It's nothing, just me and Dwayne—"<br/>
<br/>
But Ila jumps up and busts past you. She busts past Lindsay too, who despite having the vocabulary and disposition of a football player seemingly has none of their blocking and tackling instincts.<br/>
<br/>
Ila screams when she sees Dwayne sprawled on the floor. "What did you do? Fuck! Marianne, what did you do You killed him!"<br/>
<br/>
"No I didn't!"<br/>
<br/>
"You fucking killed him! I'll get the—! Cops! The fucking cops!"<br/>
<br/>
"Stop screaming, Ila! He's just—!"<br/>
<br/>
Justin tackles her; like bowling pins, they both crash into you. Nails rake at you, and you rake yours at someone else. At least two people are screaming, and one of them might be you, but you're not sure.<br/>
<br/>
A blow to the stomach knocks the wind from your lungs and tears into your eyes. When you clear them and sit up, the room is mostly quiet. But the front door is open. Lindsay stands in the doorway, looking out.<br/>
<br/>
"The bitch ran off!" she yells. "Is she going to get the police?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe." You look around. The police inside Dwayne's place would be a bad thing for lots of people and for lots of reason. "Where's Justin?"<br/>
<br/>
"Chasing her."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, get him back here," you holler, thinking far more quickly than is Marianne's wont. "We'll get Dwayne out of here until the mask is done with him."<br/>
<br/>
"How long will that be?"<br/>
<br/>
"Long enough! Plus we have to get that brain band into him."<br/>
<br/>
You and Lindsay are both futilely trying to drag the limp Dwayne Macaulay to the door when Justin comes pounding back up. With his help, you drag Dwayne down to the car and push him into the back seat. You pile on top of him as the other two jump in. A rear door hangs open as you peel out; in the distance, sirens are already beginning to wail.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Lindsay manages to keep her head long enough to get you to a shopping center on the other side of Walmart, where she parks in an alley. The mask comes out of Dwayne not long after she's shut off the engine, but then another ten minutes pass while the brain band copies him. You three talk about what to do, and what is likely to happen. <br/>
<br/>
There is some chance, you realize, that a neighbor got the license plate of Lindsay's car, and in the hands of either Dwayne or the police that would be very bad for her. As for the real Marianne: Normally you wouldn't worry about Dwayne getting violent with her, but after what happened at his house all bets are off.<br/>
<br/>
"Could we put a mask on the real Mrs. Matthias?" Justin asks. "To hide her from, well, everyone?"<br/>
<br/>
"What about me?" Lindsay squeals. "After that fuck up back there, I think <i>I</i> need a place to hide!"<br/>
<br/>
You can't help smiling: Lindsay's now reasoning as you did when Gordon came after you.<br/>
<br/>
And that introduces another possibility: You could trap Dwayne under a mask. Maybe that would neuter him.<br/>
<br/>
Or you could just lock him in the elementary school basement until you think of a better plan.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214
author_id: seuzz
title: A Double Trap for Dwayne Macaulay
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Let's take him back to the elementary school, we'll lock him in the basement," you say.<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay and Justin look at you as though you're high. Well might they, since you are currently looking like Marianne Matthias, the pot-head mother of a pot-headed high school student. <br/>
<br/>
"What good'll that do?" Lindsay shrieks.<br/>
<br/>
"It'll get him out of the way! He's the problem!"<br/>
<br/>
"We can't keep him locked up forever, Will," Justin says.<br/>
<br/>
"Why not? You were going to keep <i>me</i> locked up forever!"<br/>
<br/>
"No we weren't!" Lindsay yells. "Only until we got everything back to normal!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, same thing here. Look, we have to put him someplace, at least for now. If we don't, when he wakes up, we're all going to be in so much trouble!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's a twenty-minute drive back to the school, during which the brain band reappears on Dwayne's forehead. To keep him knocked out, you put the mask back on him. But after sinking into him, in comes back out again instantly. The brain band, when placed on his forehead, at least vanishes for another minute, but then it too reappears.<br/>
<br/>
Brain-band, mask, brain-band, mask: You alternate between them in a desperate race to keep Dwayne Macaulay unconscious while Lindsay hauls ass back to the makeshift prison. When she finally parks at the school, Lindsay runs over to unlock the door while you and Justin scoot your victim out of the back seat. You shoot fearful glances at the houses across the street: It would be just your luck if you were observed.<br/>
<br/>
Then it hits you: Lindsay and her friends could keep you safely locked up because they knew you weren't going to make any noise. If you hollered and someone found you, you'd have to explain what you were doing in the basement, and if you tried to go home you'd find a doppelganger of yourself waiting for you.<br/>
<br/>
But Dwayne won't have that problem. He'll holler his head off when he wakes up, until someone comes along with bolt cutters to let him out. He might even break out the windows and crawl out through them.<br/>
<br/>
There's no time to dwell on it, though, as your trio heft Dwayne down the steps and lay him on the cold, concrete floor. One last slap of the brain band knocks him out long enough for you to dive back into your corner and retrieve all the magic supplies—the masks and the brain bands, the sealant and the grimoire—and hustle them at Justin.<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay's jaw falls open when sees that small treasure trove. "The fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was bored," you say. "And the guys bought a <i>lot</i> of supplies. And one last thing," you call back as you clatter up the wooden stairs to the door. "You have to take this mask off me and put it on Dwayne."<br/>
<br/>
"You're high!" Lindsay shouts after you.<br/>
<br/>
"No I'm not!" Actually, your brain does feel like it's on fire. But whether it's from excess weed, a fever, or a sudden flash of insight, you're not sure. You are really hoping it's the latter as you throw the masks and whatnot into the back seat. You pile in after it, and beckon impatiently at Justin and Lindsay.<br/>
<br/>
"After I take this mask off," you tell them, "go down and put it on Dwayne. We'll turn him into Marianne Matthias, that way he won't be as dangerous when he wakes up. Maybe it'll freak him out so much he'll just run away. In fact—!" You are nearly bowled over by the brilliance of your idea. "One of us can then put on Dwayne's mask. One of us has to put it on anyway, and if she—I mean, Dwayne—shows up at his house we can have her—him—arrested!"<br/>
<br/>
"What'll we do about the real Mrs. Matthias?" Justin asks. His eyes are wide and staring.<br/>
<br/>
"She never comes out of the trailer if she can help it. Or— I dunno. We'll do something. We just have to keep Dwayne from causing trouble. So let's get the mask off me and onto him!" You fall back onto the seat and pull at your face while muttering arcane words.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Hey. Hey." The voice penetrates the blur that surrounds you and fills your head. "Hey!"<br/>
<br/>
"Hey yourself," you mutter. "It's for horses."<br/>
<br/>
"Will!" Your shoulder is shaken roughly.<br/>
<br/>
"M'yhu?" You bolt upright—<br/>
<br/>
—and bang your head on the roof of a car. "Jesus!"<br/>
<br/>
You rub your head, then freeze when you look down to find that your boobs have been stolen. Your bra is flapping loosely where your bosoms were! <i>Marjorie Orville swore she'd steal your boobs, and now she has!</i> <br/>
<br/>
"Will!"<br/>
<br/>
The world turns right-side-up again as Justin glares at you from the front seat of Lindsay's sedan. You look down again, and— <br/>
<br/>
"Fuck!" You struggle with Marianne Matthias's undergarments, which are all that you're wearing. "Get me out of these things! Where's my clothes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Somewhere back there."<br/>
<br/>
"Why'd you take them off me, you pervert?" You come real close to smacking Justin across the face.<br/>
<br/>
"To give to Dwayne. So he can put them on after he wakes up. It was Lindsay's idea," he protests.<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay snarls. "You assholes are so fucking perverted!"<br/>
<br/>
You fall onto your back. The world gradually starts to make sense again.<br/>
<br/>
You are Will Prescott, not Marianne Matthias, though you've got her brain inside yours. You are in your own body again, though, and you should have some clothes around here too. You look around. <i>Oh, there they are, in the floorboard.</i><br/>
<br/>
And as you struggle back into your own things you ask what's going on. <br/>
<br/>
"Beats me," Lindsay snarls. "You're the one with a plan. Please tell me you thought past what we did back there in the basement."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," you lie as you pull your t-shirt over your head. <i>What did you do back there at the basement?</i> "You put Marianne's mask onto Dwayne?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, and we gave him her clothes too."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck,</i> you think. <i>That was a mistake. If he was naked he might have kept himself out of sight.</i> But you don't see a point in arguing. "Okay," you say aloud, "now one of us needs to turn himself into Dwayne so that he can have Marianne arrested."<br/>
<br/>
<i>"What?"</i> Lindsay exclaims. Justin asks, "The one in the basement? Or the real one?"<br/>
<br/>
You don't answer, but ask what time it is, then lean forward to study the dashboard clock: 10:35. "Okay, the real one will be passed out, she's not going anywhere," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"But why do someone need to be arrested?" Lindsay demands.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, just trust me," you retort. "I guess I can put Dwayne's mask on. I got nowhere else I need to be."<br/>
<br/>
"Justin can put it on," Lindsay declares. "I trust him more than I trust <i>you.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Then who's going play me?" Justin bleats, and turns a terrified glance back onto you. <i>Yep, it must be Joe under a Justin-mask, and he doesn't want to confess the deception to Lindsay.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Does anyone <i>have</i> to play you?" Lindsay asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Whoever has to play Dwayne might have to be there awhile," you point out. "There's dealing with the police, for instance, if they show up, and maybe he'll have to be the one to go out and get Evie out of that school."<br/>
<br/>
But after spouting off a lot of bad words, Lindsay insists that while Justin plays Dwayne Macaulay, you can play Justin Orr. "If you've got enough fucking masks back there," she fumes. <br/>
<br/>
You gain more time by suggesting that she drop you and Justin off at his car, after which you and he—him disguised as Dwayne—will do something about the two Marianne Matthiases.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Christ, I'll be so glad when we can put a sock in her," Justin says after Lindsay has dropped you off at Salvation Donuts and driven off back to Westside so she can report to everyone about the day's cock-ups thus far. He gives you a sidelong glance and points to his face. "Uh, just so you know, I'm not really this guy. Okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guessed. You're Joe, right?"<br/>
<br/>
He blinks. "How'd you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Grant showed up at the basement earlier. He was playing you, and even I could tell he wasn't doing a good job." You don't mean to alarm Joe, but his cheeks turn white under Justin's blazing acne. "I'm sure it'll be okay," you assure him.<br/>
<br/>
He lets out a deep breath and changes the subject. "So I guess we do that swap like Lindsay said," he sighs. His pallor deepens. "But, um—"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't want to, do you?" you say. "You want me in Dwayne's mask instead."<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a pinched look. "Yeah, to be honest."<br/>
<br/>
"But then we'd be lying to Lindsay. And when she say her again, she'd think that you're me. Well, me pretending to be Justin."<br/>
<br/>
"Dude, we're already lying to her so many ways," he moans.<br/>
<br/>
That's true too.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141
author_id: seuzz
title: A Drug Dealer's Trade
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Okay, I'll do the honors with Dwayne," you tell him. "But I know a way we can help you out."<br/>
<br/>
"With what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay has to think it's <i>me</i> under a Justin mask, right?" You point to his face, and he nods. You pick up one of the four blank brain bands. "So I'll make a copy of my brain and you can wear it under Justin's mask. That way you can act like I would if <i>I</i> was wearing his mask."<br/>
<br/>
His expression turns thoughtful. "That could work. But what if she makes me take the mask off?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't let her make you," you suggest.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's a real production making all the necessary changes. You start by pulling Marianne's brain band out of yourself, which knocks you out. When you come to, Joe tells you that he put the blank band onto you while you were asleep, and shows you the resulting band with your name on it. Then he gets in the back seat and you help him pull Justin's mask off. You pop your brain band onto him, then return the mask. While he sleeps with a sagging jaw, you change out of your clothes and into Dwayne's: a pair of ragged jeans and a black t-shirt. They're both fairly tight on you, and the cuffs of the jeans ride up past your ankles. <i>Funny, it doesn't seem like Dwayne would have been your size or smaller.</i> Then you break out the sealant and close up the inside of Dwayne's mask.<br/>
<br/>
All this time you've been sitting in the parking lot in front of Salvation Donuts, and you keep squinting around and wondering if and when someone's going to come over to see what the two high-school boys are doing in the backseat of the car.<br/>
<br/>
When Joe wakes up again, you ask how he's doing. "Dunno," he grunts, and clutches his temples. "It feels ... crowded in here."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll give you an easy question. What's your brother's name?"<br/>
<br/>
"Brother? I don't have a— Oh!" <br/>
<br/>
His eyes go very wide, and he leans forward, practically putting his face between his knees. He gasps and chokes a couple of times, then looks up with a pale face.<br/>
<br/>
"Robert," he says faintly. "My brother's name is Robert!"<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds like you've got it. Well, it can take awhile to sort things out. I'll let you get used to it while I—"<br/>
<br/>
You break off, and pick up Dwayne Macaulay's brain band between your finger and thumb, as though it were a baby cobra. "I'll turn myself into him," you finish weakly.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Fuck!" you exclaim in a low mutter. "God <i>damn</i> it!" You hunch low in the back seat and peer through the back window, and the two side windows. "Fuck!" you repeat.<br/>
<br/>
"What?" Justin Orr asks as he drives slowly up the street. "I don't see anything."<br/>
<br/>
Indeed, the street in front of Dwayne Macaulay's house looks deserted, save for the usual cluster of automobiles. He knows each one, down to the scrapes and dents (not to mention the license plate numbers and colors and makes and models). The old, cracked sidewalk is clear of traffic. Nothing is out of place. Everything looks normal.<br/>
<br/>
And that's what's got Dwayne Macaulay's finely tuned antennae—which thanks to his brain band you now possess as well—quivering hard. After what happened this morning, there <i>ought</i> to be someone, or lots of someones. <i>So where the fuck are they?</i><br/>
<br/>
"Is it okay?" Justin asks.<br/>
<br/>
You shoot a spiteful glance at the back of his head, and fight the urge to push his face into the windshield. "Drive three houses up," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
"But isn't that—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up. I know what I'm doing." Inasmuch as Dwayne Macaulay ever knows what he's doing. Deep down, you suspect that his paranoia stems much more from his knowing that he <i>doesn't</i> know what he's doing than because he does.<br/>
<br/>
So it makes no sense to stop three houses down from his place and to scamper back toward it on bare feet rather than stopping directly in front of it. But that's what you do after sending Justin away with instructions to hang loose down at the Walmart until he hears from you.<br/>
<br/>
You sidle up to the front door, which is closed. <i>Did you guys close it on your way out?</i> You doubt it, and you squint fretfully at the shaded windows. <i>The cops.</i> Ila's just fucking stupid enough to have brought the cops out here and let them look around. Not that there's anything sitting out where they could find it.<br/>
<br/>
Unless Ila started pulling shit out to get rid of it just before they arrived. She'd be stupid enough to do that, too.<br/>
<br/>
You gnaw on your lower lip as you put your hand to doorknob. You twist it and it opens. You hesitate, then leap through the doorway and shove the door shut behind you. Warily, you glance around.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Searched! The goddamn place has been searched!</i> The garbage sacks have been overturned and contents strewn; the sofa shoved away from the wall; the desk drawers pulled open! <br/>
<br/>
<i>Of course it's a mess,</i> you remind yourself as you fight to still your racing heart. <i>Me and Lindsay and Justin searched it earlier while Dwayne was knocked out.</i><br/>
<br/>
But that doesn't mean the cops haven't been by and done their own search!<br/>
<br/>
From the hook under the living room desk you retrieve the semi-automatic and shove a magazine into it. You rack a round, and keep the pistol loosely by your side as you make a careful sweep of the place of the place with quivering nerves. It's a good sign if they didn't find the weapon. But maybe someone's here and is hiding!<br/>
<br/>
You start with a sweep of the kitchen, making sure the back door is locked, then return through the living room hop down a short hallway into the back. The bathroom is also deserted. In the bedroom, the bed is a snarled mess of sheets, but there's no one in it, behind it, or under it. You whip open the closet door and push aside the hanging shirts. It's empty too.<br/>
<br/>
You allow yourself a ragged sigh of relief.<br/>
<br/>
Then you push the bedroom door closed and drop to the floor at the foot of the bed.<br/>
<br/>
You hurl back the cheap rug that covers the bare, wooden floor and push your finger into a knothole. You find and squeeze the hidden trigger; there's a click, and that part of the floor drops away on hidden hinges. The trapdoor only drops a foot, but it's enough for you to reach into the secret space under the floor and pull out the two metal briefcases. Your fingertips are slick with sweat as you open first the one and then the other.<br/>
<br/>
The first holds twenty thousand dollars in worn twenty and hundred dollar bills—the patient accumulation of almost ten years of various criminal endeavors, and the seed money for would-be investments. The other holds five thousand dollars in weed—the reserve stash that Dwayne deals down at the river to teens and college students.<br/>
<br/>
You set both cases by the front door, then text Ila on Macaulay's phone: <i>wfru</i>.<br/>
<br/>
There's plenty of time for your fear and anger to build before she replies: <i>home wru?<br/>
<br/>
somewhere kp phon on<br/>
<br/>
ruok?<br/>
<br/>
y</i><br/>
<br/>
Well, "y" for now. You chew your lip and ponder the set up.<br/>
<br/>
What with having to drive across town, and change masks and clothes, it's been nearly an hour since you left Macaulay in the basement. He'll want to get out, either through a window (likely) or by making a ruckus (if worse comes to worse) and is surely out by now. He won't have any money, though, which means no cab or bus. You doubt anyone, even the police, would give him a lift. Probably he's going to have walk. On bare feet, no less, which will take anywhere from ninety minutes if he runs to three hours if he walks. <br/>
<br/>
But you've probably got less time than that to figure out what comes next.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Fortunately, Dwayne Macaulay is very quick at thinking things through. They may not have the brightest thoughts—or he'd never have wound up with the life he's got—but at least he can get some halfway decent ones when he needs them.<br/>
<br/>
You text Ila again, telling her to come pick you up. As she lives only three blocks away, she's there in just five minutes. You fly down the sidewalk when she pulls up and throw yourself and the two briefcases into the passenger seat. "Walmart, baby," you tell her. "Fast as you can without breaking the speed limit."<br/>
<br/>
The whites show around her eyes. "What happened, baby? Marianne was at your place, there were some kids with her, she—"<br/>
<br/>
"I know, she coldcocked me, dragged me off. She's lost it, baby. She got into some bad shit." You spot a prowler up ahead and frantically order Ila to slow down. "She got into some bad shit," you repeat, "and she's crazy. I have to move the stuff—" You pat the briefcases. "I got away but she's after the stuff, she was threatening to carve me up. Listen, after you drop me off, I need you to go downtown to see Karol Mathis."<br/>
<br/>
"Him?" Ila shrieks.<br/>
<br/>
"It's okay, baby, I'll call him after you drop me off. He'll look after you, send someone to babysit my place, catch Marianne if she comes back after me. He'll fix it, have her put away where she can detox or something." <i>Not fucking likely when it's Dwayne Macaulay in a Marianne Matthias mask.</i> "I gotta leave town for a couple of days, but everything'll be fine till I get back. Talk to Karol if you need anything."<br/>
<br/>
Walmart isn't that far away, so you don't have to put up with Ila's anguished pleas for long. After she's away, you trot over to Justin's car. "Get us onto the street," you tell him as you dive in. "Take Hoover down to Borman, turn left."<br/>
<br/>
He obliges, then nods at the briefcases. "What's in those?" he asks.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411
author_id: seuzz
title: The Businessman
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You open the briefcase with the money and show Justin the contents. He almost drives off the road. "The fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dwayne keeps his savings under the mattress," you explain.<br/>
<br/>
"What are we going to do with it?" Justin asks in awestruck tones.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, we're not gonna give it back." Justin howls and pounds the steering wheel. "Don't get us in an accident," you snap, for you've got Dwayne Macaulay's horror of attracting police attention, plus an extra helping on your own account. "Just get us downtown. You know where Ben's Barbecue is?" you ask as you take out your phone.<br/>
<br/>
"We're getting some lunch?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I gotta see a man there. We still gotta take care of the real Dwayne Macaulay, you know."<br/>
<br/>
You sure are glad of the brain-band you're wearing, and the confidence it gives you. Without it, you'd never know enough to make this call; and even if you did, you'd never have the guts to place it.<br/>
<br/>
"It's Dwayne," you tell the man who answers. "I gotta problem. This bitch I know's gone fucking psycho, I need someone to babysit her."<br/>
<br/>
There's a pause. Then Karol Mathis says, in a cool, dry voice, "I'm a restaurateur, sir. I don't who you are or why you think—"<br/>
<br/>
You want to yell, but that would be the exact wrong tack to take. "Her name's Marianne Matthias," you say in a voice half-strangled with self-control, "and she's a relative of mine. I don't do any business with her myself, but she gets into it anyway. I wouldn't be asking you for a fucking babysitter if I didn't think—"<br/>
<br/>
"There's no call for language," he says, then pauses. "What kind of babysitting are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
That's better. "She's whacked out. She got into bad shit, or something. She needs detox or maybe just a plain drunk tank. Or something longer than that. She's scrambled her brains up good."<br/>
<br/>
There's another pause. "Is she coherent? Could she ... Can she talk?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, she can talk, it's just that nothing she says makes any sense. I mean it's English, the words make sense. But she's all scrambled up. She doesn't know who she is, she thinks she's ... other people. She busted into my house talking like she was my girlfriend, then she started telling me she was my mother, and <i>then</i> she said she was SpongeBob SquarePants."<br/>
<br/>
You flatter yourself that's a smart bit of invention—it'll make anyone think Macaulay's crazy even before he starts insisting that he's Dwayne Macaulay, no matter what he looks like. "If she's like that," you conclude, "who knows what she's going to say, or about, to who."<br/>
<br/>
Again, Mathis ponders your words before replying. "Come by as soon as you can," he says, "and we'll talk about what I can do for you." He hangs up.<br/>
<br/>
"Who was that?" Justin asks as you drop the phone.<br/>
<br/>
"Man who's going to fix things for us. He can find Dwayne, keep him quiet for us."<br/>
<br/>
"How?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because Dwayne Macaulay works for him, that's how." You drum the lid of the briefcase with your fingers. The scowl on Justin's face suggests that he doesn't understand you, but he drops the subject.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Ben's Barbecue is a local landmark, a greasy eatery with scarred wooden tables and sawdust on the floors. The building was once a large gas station/repair garage—little renovation work went into disguising where the old double bay doors once were—but that was at least seventy years ago. A few old-timers might still know who the original "Ben" was, but now it is owned by Karol Mathis, and from behind its down-home ribs and pulled pork, its collard greens and curly fries, its Texas toast and its carrot cakes, he runs the underworld (such as it is) of Saratoga Falls.<br/>
<br/>
You leave Justin in the car with the briefcases and go in alone. But your request to see Karol is denied by the man at the register, who asks you to wait instead. He does bring you a complimentary pork sandwich, though, which you shove into a bag to save for later, for your stomach doesn't need food on it at a time like this. You anxiously wonder what it means that Mathis won't see you.<br/>
<br/>
But twenty minutes later—by which point you're nearly frantic—you are summoned into the back. You navigate narrow hallways made narrower by crates of canned goods to the cramped office where Mathis conducts his business.<br/>
<br/>
He's not alone. A well-dressed man with slicked-back hair is with him. You grimace, even as you relax a little into a chair. <br/>
<br/>
Mathis, a small man with leathery skin and closely cropped gray hair, turns an unwinking stare on you. "So tell me about this person and her medical problems," he order you in a calm and quiet voice.<br/>
<br/>
"She's my aunt. My dad's younger sister. <i>Much</i> younger sister. I have to take care of her, she's a pothead. Her son—my cousin—they're both potheads. Sweet, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"This cousin," Mathis says with a slight frown. "Is he the one you had to buy that plane ticket for?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. Maybe that's what did it to his mom," you add in a burst of improvisation. "I don't know her to get into the heavy stuff, but maybe she did. But her brain's broken. I think she's hallucinating. I know she's paranoid, and she's got delusions about being other people."<br/>
<br/>
"Is she violent?" asks the other man. His name is Lionel Brampton, and he is Mathis's shady legal advisor. Macaulay has had to use his services too.<br/>
<br/>
"She busted into my house this morning, assaulted me, chased my bitch out."<br/>
<br/>
The two men exchange a glance. Brampton uncrosses and recrosses his legs. "I assume you don't want to bring charges for ... a multitude of reasons," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"I want her kept quiet," you say. "Out of the way, safe, and quiet, until she sobers up. If she can sober up."<br/>
<br/>
"What could she say," Mathis asks, "that no one would want her to say?"<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach begins to do flip-flops. These men—or Mathis, at least—is quite capable of keeping Macaulay "quiet" by permanently silencing him. You're not sure you want that. Or, at least, you don't want that on your conscience, no matter how awful the man is.<br/>
<br/>
"Normally I'd trust her to say nothing. There's no harm in her, none in her kid. She just needs sitting on," you insist, "until she gets her head clear."<br/>
<br/>
"A private hospital," Brampton says, and Mathis, after glance up at the ceiling, gives a light shrug. "Those don't come cheap," Brampton tells you.<br/>
<br/>
You lick your lips. "How much?"<br/>
<br/>
"For how long?"<br/>
<br/>
"A month?" That should be enough time to figure out another solution.<br/>
<br/>
"Ten thousand," Brampton says.<br/>
<br/>
You've got the money, but Dwayne's instinct is to bargain. "Five," you instantly retort.<br/>
<br/>
The corner of Brampton's mouth goes up. "That's what the <i>hospital</i> would charge."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, seventy-five."<br/>
<br/>
Mathis tilts back in his chair. "If you don't want to spend any money on this solution, Macaulay—" he says in a musing tone.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright! Jesus! I'll go get it now." You start to rise, but Mathis stops you with a lift of his hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Where is she now?" <br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. I think she'll be heading back to my place. If you send someone around there now, there's a good chance you'll catch her."<br/>
<br/>
Mathis grunts, and dismisses you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That's the first half of the job. The second half is getting the real Marianne to safety, in case Macaulay, on finding himself with Marianne's face and body, makes for her trailer. Besides, if Mathis and Brampton can't find the fake Marianne quickly, they might go looking at her trailer, and accidentally snag the real woman.<br/>
<br/>
She's awake and frying some eggs when you arrive at her place. She's quite bemused by your insistence that she "take a little vacation," but she allows you to drive her down the farthest corner of town, close to Suffolk Wilderness, where you check her into the Donna Motor Courts, a clean but inexpensive dump where Dwayne has conducted "business" in the past. You pay, in cash, for a week's occupancy for her, and leave her with a small stash of weed and two hundred dollars that she can spend for meals at the Sunshine Cafe across the street. You urge her not to go out unless she has to.<br/>
<br/>
But you can tell she's going to go stir-crazy before long.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess we could babysit her," Lindsay concedes with obvious reluctance when you meet with her and the rest of the "gang" that afternoon. You're at the Sunshine Cafe, and you're still Dwayne's mask, even though it's an odd sight seeing him at a large booth with half a dozen high school kids.  She glances around, and everyone else at the table shrugs. "Just, like, visit her for a couple of hours after school?" Lindsay asks. "Would that be enough."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," you say. "Just don't let her get you high. You can play cards with her, she likes that. Or buy some board games. Take her out to the Wilderness, she could use the exercise." <i>So could you, you dumpy cow,</i> you think at Lindsay. "Just for a week, till I get back with Dane. Uh, Evie."<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay frowns. "Why so long?"<br/>
<br/>
""Cos I have to drive. Macaulay can't fly," you explain. "He's got half a dozen warrants out on him. They've got him on a 'no fly' list. I'll have to drive."<br/>
<br/>
"So take the mask off and fly under your own face. Jeez!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm a minor! And I'd need ID." Your own IDs are at your house, where Gordon Black is, somehow, still impersonating you.<br/>
<br/>
"You've got ID, Justin," Lindsay reminds you.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh. Right.</i><br/>
<br/>
You suppose you could send Justin out to retrieve Evie. Now that the dangerous part is over, he could fly out and you could play Justin from under a mask. He could take a plane.<br/>
<br/>
And it would spare you having to personally explain things to Evie.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112
author_id: seuzz
title: Alone with Yourself and Dwayne Macaulay
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're saved from embarrassment by the guy who looks like Justin Orr: "I thought I was supposed to go get Evie back."<br/>
<br/>
That draws puzzled glances from everyone else. He reddens a little under the white acne scars. "That's, uh, the real Justin," he says, and flicks a finger at you. "I'm Will." He keeps his eyes forward as the kid who looks like Joe and the kid who looks like Grant stare at him with raised eyebrows.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh Christ," Lindsay exclaims. "I can't wait until we get things back to normal and so I know who's who. So you two need to switch back, then Will can—"<br/>
<br/>
"Will can't take a plane out to Oregon," you say, taking up the part you're supposed to be playing. "He needs ID, and his ID is at his house."<br/>
<br/>
"So go get it," Lindsay says.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb jumps in. "He can't," he says, and his eyes dart between you and Justin. "Gordon Black is pretending to be Will."<br/>
<br/>
"So switch them back!"<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay," Pauline says as she lays a firm hand on her friend's shoulder. "Just let the guys work it out. Stop trying to run everything."<br/>
<br/>
"Good idea," you say. Lindsay flushes, but holds her tongue "So, uh, Will and I will switch back, and then he should use Macaulay's mask to get out to Oregon. He'll have to drive, but it's not like there's anything else going on with his life."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe he should have a say in it," says Bhodi,.<br/>
<br/>
"It's fine with me," says the guy who looks like Justin, after a fractional hesitation as he sorts out who should be answering on your behalf, "if that's what, uh, Justin thinks is best." His complexion reddens even more.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Lindsay has one idea I like," you tell him afterward as you and he drive off together. "We need to get people out of these masks and back to pretending to be themselves. Wait," you add. "Did I say 'pretending to be themselves'?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think you did." Justin says. "Except what we really need to do is stop hanging out with Lindsay. Tell her it's all back to normal, and then who cares, right?"<br/>
<br/>
You grunt. "I suppose we can take that brain band out of you now. That way we can tell her 'switched' back."<br/>
<br/>
"No, leave it in," he says. "I kind of like it."<br/>
<br/>
"You <i>like</i> it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." He sucks in his lips. "It gives you a new perspective on things. I think it's doing Bhodi some good, too," he adds.<br/>
<br/>
You catch your breath. You'd almost forgot about giving Bhodi a copy of your brain. And you'd clean forgotten that Joe, with a copy of it too, would "remember" what you'd done. "How can you tell? What's he doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. He just seems more confident. That's why you suggested it to him, right?" Justin squints at you. "So he wouldn't be so, uh, insecure?"<br/>
<br/>
Again, you grunt. You've never thought of yourself as being the confident type. And the day you pretended to be Bhodi it wasn't confidence in yourself you felt, it was confidence in him.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess that's why I want to keep wearing your thing, man," Justin says after you've awkwardly expressed this. "It gives me a kind of confidence in myself too. Except—" He laughs nervously. "Who am I? I got your brain in me, and I look like Justin."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe Lindsay's got the right idea," you repeat.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Dwayne Macaulay keeps his car parked behind a convenience store a couple of blocks from his house, and that's where you have Justin drop you off. You're relieved to see it's still there, and that there's no sign of the real Macaulay. It's been hours since you dumped him in the basement, and you're paranoid about where he's been and what he's been up to, but you can only leave it in Karol Mathis's capable hands.<br/>
<br/>
Speaking of Karol Mathis: you call to tell him you'll be out of town for up to a week: "I'm getting Marianne's kid out of that school. Maybe that's part of what fucked her up. I dunno, he's all she's got." You assure him that Macaulay's various business enterprises won't suffer during your absence.<br/>
<br/>
Then you text Erik Carstairs, the Westside football player who's in charge of security at the Warehouse. You tell him you'll be out of town, and that he'll be in charge of collecting rents and payoffs on Sunday from the various dealers at the club. That's okay: Carstairs has collected for Macaulay in the past, and Macaulay trusts him, insofar as he trusts anyone.<br/>
<br/>
By five o'clock you have the car gassed up and have run it through a lube shop to check for basic problems. You'd already stocked up on water bottles and traveling snacks. Just to be safe, you pick up some cheap used t-shirts and jeans at a second-hand store instead of swinging by his place for extra clothes.<br/>
<br/>
By five-thirty, you're on the interstate, heading for Oregon.<br/>
<br/>
And what have you got to amuse yourself?<br/>
<br/>
Only your own thoughts. And those of Dwayne Macaulay.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's like your nerves have been on fire since putting on his mask and brain band. It's like you were <i>thinking</i> with his nerves. <i>Get back to the house. Get the money and the stash. Talk to Ila. Talk to Mathis. Go get Aunt Marianne. Prep the car. Meet the other guys. Talk to Mathis and Carstairs. Collect the car. Hit the road.</i><br/>
<br/>
You flip down the visor against the lowering sun, and catch sight of your face in the mirror there. <i>Jesus, you really do look like a rat.</i> The nose and chin, small and pointed. The dark, narrow eyes that gleam and dart about. The tufts of beard down the jawline, and across the chin and upper lip. Even your ears, which are round and stick out from the side of your head, have a rodent-like quality.<br/>
<br/>
But it's fitting, somehow. The same qualities that let rats survive—a watchful cunning and a careful daring—have seen Dwayne Macaulay in and out of juvenile programs and short stints in jail. They've also left him under outstanding warrants scattered from Arizona to Maryland for a variety of small crimes: possession; possession with intent to distribute; burglary; assault. He's never found a secure footing, and even the last three years, in Saratoga Falls, under the wing of Karol Mathis and with his Aunt Marianne to look after (funny how caring for someone else brings more stability than caring for yourself does, sometimes) he feels as though his life is just one long sprint from the end of one high wire to the start of the next.<br/>
<br/>
He's never had rest and stability, and as you dart in and out of traffic—nipping at the bumpers of the cars ahead before zipping around them—you wonder if Dwayne himself would even want it. Burning nerves are a sign that you're alive.<br/>
<br/>
But safety and stability are not the same thing. And power is something else entirely.<br/>
<br/>
<i>God, what Dwayne Macaulay could do with set of masks and brain bands like that book can make!</i><br/>
<br/>
Get Karol Mathis off in a quiet spot somewhere, pop a mask and brain band onto him, cap him in the back of the head and <i>bam!</i> After hiding the body you could be Karol Mathis with all that money and power.<br/>
<br/>
Better: Corner a police lieutenant or captain, substitute yourself for him, put the squeeze on Mathis for a cut while keeping yourself clean.<br/>
<br/>
Better still: Be a city councilman, or the mayor. Or get yourself onto Mathis's tit by capping Lionel Brampton and taking his place.<br/>
<br/>
Fuck, why stop there? Leave a trail of murder victims and aliases until you've moved into Los Angeles or New York or Nashville or someplace like that as a movie or TV or music star. There's thrills to be had there, <i>and</i> money and fame and women.<br/>
<br/>
You glance at the briefcase, and wonder if you're really going to find yourself a whore for the night wherever you stop to crash.<br/>
<br/>
And there wouldn't be anything easier than taking the book from the kids back there. This trip to bring Dane back, that'll get you in good with them, they'll never spot the double-cross coming. Just get your hands on the book long enough to get out and to a car and away, and with the money you got you can set up and hide anywhere you want, anywhere in the country, while figuring out where you want to go and who you want to be.<br/>
<br/>
And sure, you're not really Dwayne Macaulay, but you don't need to be, not after you're ... whoever.<br/>
<br/>
So occupied you drive until it's nearly midnight, when you finally pull off the highway and drive into a tiny little town with the absurdly grand name of Emerson City, where you catch six hours of sleep in a tiny motel.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's a hard, ugly trip, and more than once you catch yourself eyeing a small city and giving hard and careful consideration to the thought of abandoning your mission and old life and starting over again—as Dwayne Macaulay—in a new town. The hardest such fit comes while crossing Wyoming, when your old Ford sedan suffers a breakdown and you're forced to spend three days, fuming with boredom, while it's repaired. By text you keep Caleb, Karol Mathis, and Erik Carstairs apprised of your situation. It's funny that three such different people should all urge you to <i>hurry back soon as you can</i>, and that's part of what tempts you to chuck it all and start over.<br/>
<br/>
But good sense prevails. Or maybe it's ambition. Even Dwayne, whose restless impatience and laziness (you sense) is behind his suboptimal life choices, can't resist the lure of the masks waiting back in Saratoga Falls.<br/>
<br/>
So you press on.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121
author_id: seuzz
title: The Return of the Reluctant Prodigal
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's Sunday (nine days after you left Saratoga Falls) before you arrive at Putnam Academy to reclaim the errant Dane Matthias. (Dwayne was the one who took full charge of installing his cousin there—he even went so far as to claim to be the boy's guardian—which is why you have come out in the guise of Dwayne and not of Marianne Matthias.) Anyway, it doesn't take much work to get Dane withdrawn from the school, even on such short notice, though you have the impression that the commander—or whatever he is—doesn't much like your look and tries delaying things. But at a little after ten, Dane Matthias, stripped of his school uniform and returned to jeans and a t-shirt, is brought to you.<br/>
<br/>
He flinches at the sight of your face, and in the sidelong glance he gives the commander you think you see a silent plea not to be sent off in your company.<br/>
<br/>
You yourself are rather shocked by his appearance as well. His eyes are hollow, and he seems to have shrunk inside himself, despite the stiff, straight posture that has been instilled in him during his brief stay at the academy. Most shocking of all is his hair. Gone is the shaggy mop of coppery locks. He was apparently shaved down to the scalp, and it's a very short carpet that has started to grow out again.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, man, we're taking you home," you tell him, and give him a reassuring squeeze to the upper arm. Again, he flinches. "It'll all be okay, you'll see. It's all back to normal. Got everything?" Dane shrugs and holds up his back pack. "Come on, then. It's a long drive."<br/>
<br/>
He waits until you're in the car before speaking. "Do you have to take me home?" he asks in a dull, hollow voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you wanna go home?" you ask as you start the car. "Don't tell me you liked it here."<br/>
<br/>
"It was okay." His Adams apple bobbles. "Liked it better than home."<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, everything's back to normal. Going back to normal. That includes you."<br/>
<br/>
You catch his sidelong glance. "Me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. I know who you are, man. Your name is Evie Cummings, and your friends sent me out to rescue you."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You and Evie have a good, long talk over the next few hours. You start by telling her that you are <i>not</i> Dwayne Macaulay, the guy who hustled her onto a plane to Oregon, but a fellow Westside student named Will Prescott who, like her, is wearing a magical disguise. From there, bit by bit, you steer her through an explanation of the masks and how they work; how her friends have the book that makes the masks; how they have been taking turns using a mask of her in order to keep her family from realizing that she's gone missing; and that you were tasked with retrieving her from her oddball exile.<br/>
<br/>
Only when she asks why <i>you</i>—a senior she doesn't know—got the job do you explain how her fantastic misadventure got started.<br/>
<br/>
Even there you build up to it slowly, by telling how you're the one who found the book, and got to playing around with it with your friend Caleb, and how one bad day for you—the day Gordon Black hauled you out to the portables for a righteous beat down—turned into a bad day for both you and Gordon, which was followed by worse days after you hid out as Dane Matthias, culminating in ...<br/>
<br/>
Finally you admit that it was <i>you</i> who forced an unwilling body swap on her, which led to everything else that followed.<br/>
<br/>
That ends the conversation for awhile, and you let her stew over your confession silently for a few minutes before you resume.<br/>
<br/>
"I've learned my lesson, man. Er, <i>Evie,</i>" you tell her. "Or I guess I have. I hope I have. Your friends had to catch me first, but after that, uh—" You break off with a shrug. "I've put myself through a lot of hell setting things up to get you back, and when we get  back we're putting everything back to normal. Your friend Lindsay's going to make sure of that."<br/>
<br/>
Naturally you say nothing of the trouble that her friends Joe and Grant and Justin and Bhodi have been getting up to, and want to get up to.<br/>
<br/>
You let her be quiet, and you don't interrupt the silence. Not until you stop for a late lunch do you speak again, and that's when you offer to get her out of Dane's mask.<br/>
<br/>
She hesitates, but declines the offer. So after you've collected some burgers and fries and are on the road again, you ask her for her story.<br/>
<br/>
She shrugs, and even under your constant prodding she doesn't say much. She was, of course, completely baffled to find herself transformed into a guy, and still more appalled when she got hustled off to a military school in Oregon. ("It's not something that happens to me a lot," she dryly observes.) After that, she tried to survive by simply accepting whatever happened, and doing her best to deal with it.<br/>
<br/>
It still wasn't enough. Her first night at Putnam she was cornered by some of the upperclassmen and given a rough, rude interrogation. She failed it, even in her own estimation, and they informed her (with gleeful malice) that she needed "toughening up," and that they were just the boys to give it to her. She won't give any details, though; and even when she says that "the girls I knew in middle school were meaner," you sense that she's only making a dark joke.<br/>
<br/>
But when you stop for the night, and are alone in the motel room, she falls upon her own bed and weeps long and hard into a pillow.<br/>
<br/>
It's a performance that neither you nor Macaulay know how to deal with, and it's all you can do to sit next to her and lightly stroke her back. ("His" back, technically, as she's still in Dane's mask.) The crying jag only lasts five minutes, though, and when she turns a tear-streaked face up at you her expression, though wan, is more peaceful than you've seen it yet. She hesitates again when you ask if she wants to take the mask off, but she shakes her head and says she'll wait until she gets home.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Evie looks a lot happier the next morning when you get up. This isn't to say that she's happy, exactly, but she is in a better mood, and you catch her in the passenger seat touching and stroking herself in an exploratory way. You ask her <i>again</i> about taking the mask off, and this time she is quicker and more emphatic about wanting to leave it on.<br/>
<br/>
And then she starts asking you quick, eager questions about the masks, and how they work, and what kinds of things you can do with them. You have to struggle to keep up with her, and it embarrasses you to admit how much you don't know.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess it's pretty neat," she says when you've made it clear you've exhausted everything you know. "I mean, when you know what's going on. It's no fun just having it <i>shoved onto</i> you. How are the other guys dealing with it?" You admit that you don't know. "Anyway, it's pretty neat," she repeats, and she touches her chest with her fingertips. "You know, I was so freaked out at first, and then I was at that school, that I just didn't want to deal with it. I didn't even want to ... to touch myself."<br/>
<br/>
<i>You mean you didn't want to touch your cock?</i> you don't ask. <i>Then how did you piss or wipe yourself after you shit?</i><br/>
<br/>
"I just wanted to forget that this was my body. But now—" She strokes her face. Dane is a hairy guy, and after twenty-four hours she's already getting a beard. "It's just a disguise. And when you think about it that way ..." She trails off.<br/>
<br/>
When you stop again for the evening—you've reached Nebraska—you don't ask her about removing the mask. Instead, she asks you to take Macaulay's mask off. You oblige, and wake to find her bending over you and studying your face intensely.<br/>
<br/>
"I think I've seen you around," she says as you talk afterward. "You look familiar. I like your face better than the other guy's."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks. The other guy's a real asshole."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you're an asshole too," she says with a grin. "But it'll be okay if you make it up to me."<br/>
<br/>
"Like how?"<br/>
<br/>
She just rolls her eyes and says she'll have to think about it.<br/>
<br/>
The comment, and just the way she's acting, reminds you more of the boy sophomores than of Lindsay and Paulina.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The trip only takes one more day to complete, and during it she tells you about herself and you tell her about yourself, emphasizing the parts that don't make you seem like a body-stealing psychopath. She grows ever more alert and eager the closer you get to Saratoga Falls, and when you're an hour outside of town—it's a little after noon on a Wednesday—she insists on being the one to text her friends that you're almost home.<br/>
<br/>
For your own part, you feel yourself growing more worried. You have heard nothing from Karol Mathis regarding "Marianne Matthias", and Caleb only replied <i>we'll talk</i> the last time you texted him. Even Lindsay only said <i>yay!</i> when you texted her from Oregon that you had Evie and were on your way home.<br/>
<br/>
Your concern deepens when you stop by the Donna and find that Marianne checked out a week ago. You lodge Evie there, with instructions to hang loose till her friends show up, and text Caleb: <i>im back tfucks going on?</i><br/>
<br/>
Thirty infuriating minutes later, he replies: <i>come out to the basement.</i><br/>
<br/>
Mystified, you drive down to the old Acheson school. Caleb is waiting, even though it's still early in the afternoon. "Why aren't you in school?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
"I am," he says. "It's been a busy week." He dodges your eye.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211
author_id: seuzz
title: The Fate of Dwayne Macaulay
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What? The? <i>Fuck?</i>" you yell. Your fists bunch up.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb winces. "You shouldn't have left the book with us," he says. "And all that money."<br/>
<br/>
You wheel on him, and only the sliver of you that recognizes him as your best friend prevents Dwayne Macaulay's instincts from punching out most of his teeth. As it is, you can hardly make him out through the blurred vision of your trembling rage.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb takes two long steps back, and raises his hands. "Hey man, what's done is done."<br/>
<br/>
You're standing in the elementary school basement. A breeze is blowing in through a broken window, stirring up dust. In the dingy, late afternoon light the place looks even more like a junk heap that usual.<br/>
<br/>
And it's not improved by the addition of a life-size statue of Dwayne Macaulay.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Don't freak out,</i> Caleb warned you as he unlocked the basement door. <i>Especially looking like that. We think he's not dead. Just, uh, resting.</i><br/>
<br/>
You wheel from Caleb and advance on the ... thing. It's lying on one of the tables, and except for the lifeless pallor it looks exactly like Macaulay.<br/>
<br/>
Except that he's made of stone.<br/>
<br/>
He's naked, which would alarm you if you hadn't spent seven days pretending to be him, so you're not shocked by his bare torso and crotch. As you lean over him you see that the physical replica is exact right down to the pores in the skin. Even the tufts of his beard are detailed to the individual hair, as though he had been flash-fossilized.<br/>
<br/>
You run a fingertip over him. It feels like pumice, and there's a little "give" when you push at him. And when you focus on his chest, you see that Caleb spoke truthfully when he said it looks like he's breathing in a very slow and shallow way.<br/>
<br/>
You glare back at Caleb. "The book did this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." He shrugs and dodges your eye. <br/>
<br/>
"What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb is a little hazy on the details because (he explains) he wasn't there when it happened. But Macaulay, still in the Marianne mask, showed up at the trailer while some of the sophomore guys were there to pick up some stuff for Marianne. There was a fight, but there were several of them and only one of Dwayne, and he only had the muscles of a soft, thirty-something woman, so they overpowered him. And the next spell in the book called for a human sacrifice—<br/>
<br/>
"A what?" you bellow.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb flinches again. "Well, not literally. But the list of ingredients called for a human being. Look, no one was going to <i>actually do it,</i>" he exclaims. "We weren't going to try executing that spell. But then Macaulay showed up and one thing led to another, and—"<br/>
<br/>
You pinch the bridge of your nose. "So you did it. You know, I did make arrangements before I left for Dwayne's boss to take care of him."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, and look at the bang-up job <i>they</i> did. He was out there for a week and never caught him."<br/>
<br/>
"So when did this happen?" You point to the petrified Macaulay.<br/>
<br/>
"Yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
You look back at the figure. Something about the story strikes you as fishy. "Didn't you say he was in the Marianne mask when you turned him into this rock monster?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. And he still looked like Marianne after we dropped the stuff—"<br/>
<br/>
"You said you weren't there."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's ears redden. "The guys called me out. Anyway, he still looked like Mrs. Matthias after we, uh, did the thing to him. But she was ... unresponsive? But we knew there was a mask on him, so we took it off, and we found that." He points to Macaulay.<br/>
<br/>
"You have any idea what he <i>is,</i> what he's supposed to be?"<br/>
<br/>
"We think he's a golem. Yeah," he continues when you shake your head. "They're like a living statue, you craft them and—"<br/>
<br/>
"He's gonna come alive?" you yelp. "Like <i>that?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Keep your shirt on, man. You have to use a mask to activate them. The ones the book makes, I mean. See, the old-fashioned golems, you just make a statue, and they walk around obeying your orders, like a robot. But these, you have to put a mask on them for them to come alive. Then they turn into a copy of the person in the mask, and they do what you say. I've got one at school pretending to be me."<br/>
<br/>
It feels like your hair has caught on fire. "You made <i>two</i> of these things?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb blinks, then grins weakly. "Well, the other one's not like this one, the other one's just a lumpy thing. It doesn't use a human body, either, so we didn't kill anyone when we made it. Not that we think we killed this guy here," he hastily adds. "You saw that he's still breathing, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"And Lindsay is letting you do this?" The world is making less and less sense.<br/>
<br/>
"No, Bhodi is. She gave the book to him, thinks he's okay with it, won't do anything with it." He shakes his head. "He's got the rest of us working out of it. Oh, by the way, before you get too shirty with me about all this, you'd have been in here doing the same thing." He fixes you with a keen eye.<br/>
<br/>
You raise your chin. "What makes you think that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because Bhodi's into it, and he's got that brain band of yours inside his head. Joe too."<br/>
<br/>
You stagger.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah, they told me about that. I don't really know them super-well, and I didn't know them before, so I can't tell how much difference it's making. But they're pretty into it. Oh yeah, we've been going through the book."<br/>
<br/>
He says it with a cheerful abandon that makes your blood run cold.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
They have unlocked three spells since you left town, Caleb explains to you. The first made a kind of glue that attaches a brain band to a mask to make an all-in-one disguise. By attaching a blank band to a blank mask, you can copy someone all at once instead one piece at a time. The downside, Caleb says, is that for some reason it takes longer to get into someone's brain if it's attached to a mask than if you put on just the band or if you put them on separately.<br/>
<br/>
After that came a spell that created a golem. It took a week for them to do that one, and they had to dig four hundred pounds of earth out of a graveyard, but it crafted the slave that is currently at the school pretending to be your best friend. "You put hair into it, and the thing has to obey the person whose hair you use," Caleb say. "Though like I say, it just lays there until you put a mask on it. We used my hair when we made it, and today I put my mask on it and sent it to school."<br/>
<br/>
"Is it going to fool anyone?"<br/>
<br/>
"It looks just like me, and talks and acts just like me." He grins. "I discovered I'm kind of annoying."<br/>
<br/>
You grunt.<br/>
<br/>
Then you shiver. What if the person you're talking to is actually a fake?<br/>
<br/>
Before you can challenge him on the point, he jumps ahead to the next spell, which is the one that baffled them until, providentially, Macaulay showed up. "So now we're on to the one after that."<br/>
<br/>
"Hold it," you say. "You're doing all this without Lindsay knowing about it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. I'm not sure if Paulina knows. She and Bhodi have gotten pretty close since—" He sidles up and nudges you in the ribs. You flush. "I get the feeling he's told her a little bit about what's going on, about the guys making masks of each other."<br/>
<br/>
You clutch your head. Things sure have gotten busy in your absence, and you have a feeling that, far from simplifying with everyone turning back into themselves, things are going to get even more complicated.<br/>
<br/>
But at least you got Evie back, you reflect witha sigh. And you can send Marianne home. And you don't have to worry about Macaulay anymore.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," you say, "if this is the worst that's happened, and we can keep Lindsay from finding out—" You catch yourself as a furtive look skitters across Caleb's face. "What?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I said that Lindsay doesn't know what's going on, but she has been kind of getting into it herself. Second-hand. Indirectly."<br/>
<br/>
"How do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, Mrs. Matthias was going stir-crazy. And it was getting hard for the girls to keep juggling that mask of Evie around. So they showed Dane's mom the mask and she's been playing Evie the last few days."<br/>
<br/>
You cover your face and whimper. "Anything else?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I think you're up to speed now. I guess we should have a meeting, figure out what comes next."<br/>
<br/>
"Next?" you murmur.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb doesn't hear you. "Two meetings, I guess," he says. "One with the girls and one just with the guys, to talk about the next spell."<br/>
<br/>
"And what does that one do?" You suddenly feel very weary.<br/>
<br/>
"It makes this paste and you put it inside a mask. Then, uh—" He grimaces. "Look, Joe and I tried it out last night. It would be faster if we saved the explanation for later, when we can tell everyone. Except the girls, obviously."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, obviously," you grunt. "Okay, let's meet tonight, at Dane's old trailer, I guess." You glance at the busted window. <i>Yes, best to abandon this place.</i><br/>
<br/>
"What do you want to do about him?" Caleb asks, and points to your face. That's when you remember you're disguised as Macaulay—the way a fish remembers that it swims in water. "We can glue that brain band and mask together, put them on the real one. It should turn into another golem thing, like I've got at school. Except it'll obey me, 'cos we used my hair to make it."<br/>
<br/>
Yes, you could bring Macaulay back. You could use him as a bank.<br/>
<br/>
But would the world miss him if Dwayne Macaulay just ... disappeared? Marianne and Dane Matthias are his only family, and his business acquaintances care nothing for him.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112
author_id: seuzz
title: People and Possibilities, Part 1
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It doesn't matter what you do with Macaulay later; right now there's stuff that you—as him—need to do.<br/>
<br/>
You tell Caleb you'll meet him and all the other members of your expanding "club"<br/>
at Dane Matthias's trailer after school.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You start by checking Evie out of the motel (and collecting a partial refund) and dropping her off at Dane's trailer. On the way out you warn her that Dane's mother has been pretending to be her. Her expression tells you that she's fairly weirded out by the news, but she takes it calmly.<br/>
<br/>
Then you drive downtown to the law offices of Brampton and Wolf to get a refund of the ten thousand you gave him to take care of "Marianne Matthias."<br/>
<br/>
Lionel Brampton doesn't want to see you, though, so drive a few blocks north to Ben's BBQ. At least Karol Mathis graciously pretends to be pleased at your return, though he makes a point of stressing that he expects you to collect two weekends' of rent from the Warehouse before closing time. You tell him you'll do that, and you also tell him you want your money back from Brampton. "I found Marianne when I got back to town. She called me while I was on the way back. She's got her head back on, so I don't need that job done anymore. Not that anything <i>got</i> done while I was out," you add with a growl.<br/>
<br/>
Mathis returns your glare with a soft smile. "You're not getting anything, Macaulay. This is a no-refund business."<br/>
<br/>
"Bullshit. I don't give ten thousand—"<br/>
<br/>
"You gave Lionel Brampton ten thousand dollars for peace of mind. You got your peace of mind." Mathis shrugs. "He fulfilled his end of the bargain."<br/>
<br/>
"I paid him—no, I paid <i>you</i>—to <i>find her and put her away,</i> which you <i>didn't!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
The smile fades from Mathis's face. "Then sue us."<br/>
<br/>
You almost leap over the desk at him. He sees it in your eyes, you're sure, the murderous anger. But he doesn't flinch, only his gaze further cools.<br/>
<br/>
You stalk to the door. "Macaulay," he calls after you, and you stop. "You're not irreplaceable. You just proved that by taking that vacation."<br/>
<br/>
<i>You're replaceable too, motherfucker,</i> you think as you barrel your way through the narrow hallways to the alley behind the restaurant. <i>It's just that I don't want to be you any more than I want to be Dwayne Macaulay.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The meeting at the trailer instantly gets off to an awkward start. You figure that Marianne is going to be wearing the Evie mask when she gets there, so to avoid having two Evies staring at each other, you leave Evie in Dane's mask for the moment. But Marianne is divested of her disguise when she enters the house, and when she sees her son—or the person she thinks is her son—she cries out and rushes at him.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, sweetie," she moans as she clasps Evie's whiskered face in her hands. "They cut off all your hair!"<br/>
<br/>
Paulina and Melanie, who followed Marianne in, give you a ghastly look of surprise; Lindsay gives you the stink eye.<br/>
<br/>
"We can fix that Aunt, uh, Marianne," you stammer. "This isn't Dane. It's that girl you've been pretending to be." You glance back at Evie's friens. "At least I heard that's what you've been doing."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Yes." Marianne looks abashed, and she darts her eyes about. She also looks a little haggard. Enforced sobriety seems to have aged her.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, this is her. It's a long story, but—" You step over to "Dane" and gently push him onto the sofa, then pull at his face. A mask comes away, and suddenly it's Evie Cummings sleeping on the sofa in Dane's clothes.<br/>
<br/>
Marianne gasps. "Where's my Dane?" she shrieks.<br/>
<br/>
The girls rush to hush her, and her cries of outrage are further muffled as with loud voices a half-dozen boys barge in the front door: Caleb Johansson, Bhodi Weaver, Andy Jensen, Joe Dickerson, Grant Lowery and Justin Orr. Voices overtop each other until with a piercing whistle you get them all to shut up.<br/>
<br/>
"Now that we're all here," you tell the hushed crowd, "maybe we can start putting things back to normal."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But matters go cockeyed almost at once.<br/>
<br/>
You tell Marianne can move back into her place now. But instantly, she starts arguing. She <i>liked</i> being back in high school. Why can't she continue? She'd be happy to share Evie's life, or some other girl's life. (She looks around the room with a hopeful expression.) And whichever girl it was could hide out at the trailer and have fun skipping school while she was taking their place. As for "Marianne Matthias" and what would become of her, the woman herself only shrugs. She wants to start over. There are some seriously hot guys at Westside.<br/>
<br/>
But at the same time she wants her son back, and she loudly demands that you tell her where he is.<br/>
<br/>
Okay, he's also wearing a mask, you tell her, so you'll just take it off him. For what it's worth, you'll also get the mask off Gordon Black and return <i>him</i> to normal too. No problem.<br/>
<br/>
But Caleb raises his hand. "Problem," he says. "Gordon's been acting goofy ever since we put Dane in as his substitute. He quit the basketball squad and I hear his dad kicked him out. So there's no going 'back to normal' for him. Also, Chelsea broke up with him."<br/>
<br/>
"Not <i>my</i> problem," you snap. Then a horrible thought strikes you. "Has Gordon been fucking up <i>my</i> life?"<br/>
<br/>
"Depends on what you mean by 'fucking up'." Caleb twines his hands behind his head. "He doesn't talk to me or Tilley anymore, and I think he's taken to hanging out with Justin Roth. Oh, and that job at Salopek your dad wanted you to take? He took it."<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw drops. "When the fuck did this happen?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sometime last week, best I can say. I told you, he doesn't talk to me anymore."<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay jumps in. "Look, this isn't our problem, it's your problem," she declares. "You got Evie back, and that's all we wanted from you." She looks around the room, but no one else nods along with her. "So you guys figure this out. Meantime, I'll take back that goddamned book that started the whole mess and get rid of it."<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't bring it," Bhodi stammers when he realizes she's addressing him. "Uh, I'll have to go home and get it."<br/>
<br/>
"What about me? And my Dane?" Marianne cries.<br/>
<br/>
"Not my job either." Lindsay joins Paulina in helping to lift the now-revived Evie to her feet. "Just don't take too long. I want this stuff over with by tonight."<br/>
<br/>
The crowd parts as Evie and the rest of her friends shuffle out. Except for a slight snuffling from Marianne, all are silent after they have gone.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, now that it's just us, I assume some of you guys are wearing masks," you announce in your loudest voice after you've heard a motor start and a car drive off. "Maybe you should take those off."<br/>
<br/>
Grant and Justin and Andy blush and squirm the sofa, but they don't stir any further. Joe gets a furtive expression on his face. Caleb snorts.<br/>
<br/>
And Bhodi says, "Look, Lindsay's the only one who wants to get rid of the book. I say screw her. What could she do?"<br/>
<br/>
"She could go to the police," says Joe.<br/>
<br/>
"What would she tell them?" Bhodi snorts. "That there's guys running around with magical disguises?"<br/>
<br/>
"We could just give her the book," says Justin. "We've got masks of everyone, we don't need the book to keep switching things around."<br/>
<br/>
"There's more than that," says Grant. "Me and Caleb were looking at the next spell."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, before we get into that," Caleb starts to say, but he stops to give Marianne Matthias a hard look.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, just say whatever you want in front of her," you tell him. "She knows enough about this fucking stuff, she might as well hear about all of it." In the back of your mind you're thinking of the ten thousand dollar retainer, and how if she causes problems you could probably still get Brampton to have her picked up.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shrugs. "Okay, Joe and I looked at a new spell last night, and tried it out. Didn't we, man?"<br/>
<br/>
But it's Grant he looks at, and it's Grant who breaks out in shy grin and shrinks down into his seat.<br/>
<br/>
"So here's what it does," Caleb continues. "It makes a kind of paint. We put it into that mask of me, and Joe put it on. It turned him into a copy of me, same as you guys are copies of each other. But it's also like it turned him into a golem."<br/>
<br/>
Justin and Andy shift away from their friend.<br/>
<br/>
"Temporarily," Caleb says. "But he was my twin and he had to do what I said, the same as the other golems did. Also, he acted just like me, and when I asked him he didn't remember anything about being Joe. Like I say, he acted just like the other golems. But when I took the mask off, he turned back to normal. He was normal when you guys switched masks around this morning, right?"<br/>
<br/>
Andy and Justin nod, but they don't shift back toward Grant.<br/>
<br/>
"Also, he didn't remember <i>anything</i> from when he had the mask on. He said—"<br/>
<br/>
"It's like I went to sleep when I put it on, and didn't wake up until I took it off," Grant blurts out.<br/>
<br/>
"So here's the thing," Caleb says. "You can use this stuff to copy other people. Not just each other but anyone. Then you can put your own mask on them, if it's got this paint on it, and they'll turn into copies of you. <br/>
<br/>
"It's almost like a body swap," he concludes. "Except, after you turn yourself into them, you're leaving an obedient, mind-blocked copy of yourself behind."<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121
author_id: seuzz
title: People and Possibilities, Part 2
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>At first, everyone is too stunned to speak. Or maybe they're just confused. Even you're not sure you follow what Caleb is saying.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, here's an example," he says after surveying the puzzled looks. "We'll use Mrs. Matthias here as an example, since she's super into this stuff," he adds in a mutter. "So who's the most popular girl in your class?" he asks the guys on the sofa. "Or who's <i>a</i> popular girl?"<br/>
<br/>
"Leslie Osbourne?" says Joe.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't like her," says Bhodi.<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever. We'll just go with her. So we get a mask of this Leslie Os— Is she related to Spencer Osbourne? Okay, never mind," he continues when no one answers. "Anyway, we get a mask of her, it's got a brain band in it and everything so that when you're wearing it you've got all her memories, you can imitate her perfectly. We give that mask to Mrs. Matthias, she puts it on, now she can go out and pretend to be Leslie Osbourne, the way she was pretending to be Evie last week. Only no one will be able to catch on, because she's got all of the girl's memories.<br/>
<br/>
"But what about the real Leslie?" he continues. "We can't have her running around. Also, people might actually miss Mrs. Matthias. So maybe she can't just disappear. What do you do?"<br/>
<br/>
You catch Dane's mother giving a narrow and suspicious stare, and it occurs to you that she probably thinks you're the real Dwayne Macaulay.<br/>
<br/>
"Turn her into a golem," Bhodi murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb wheels on him with an upraised finger. "Right. But not permanently, not like we did to— Uh. No," he quickly resumes after catching himself, "you make a mask of Mrs. Matthias, with a brain band and everything, and you put this paint inside it. 'Golem paint,' let's call it, because that's what it basically is. You put <i>it</i> on Leslie, and it will turn her into Mrs. Matthias. Then, while the new Leslie goes to school and takes over her life, the golem will play the part of Mrs. Matthias. As far as everyone else sees," says Caleb, "Leslie is still Leslie, and Mrs. Matthias is still Mrs. Matthias. But actually there's been a body swap."<br/>
<br/>
But Justin still looks confused. "What happens when, uh, the new Mrs. Matthias starts telling people what happened? That she's really Leslie, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"She won't. She doesn't know it. She doesn't know anything about being Leslie. It's like Leslie has fallen asleep under the mask," he says as Justin starts to protest. "The mask takes over and just acts like Mrs. Matthias. Also, it has to obey Mrs. Matthias. Well, it does if we use her hair in the spell."<br/>
<br/>
"How long does this last?" Joe asks in awestruck tones after a long silence has held the group.<br/>
<br/>
"Until someone takes the mask off of Leslie, when Mrs. Matthias wants to switch back. Or, I dunno, maybe forever, if you leave it on her," Caleb says with a stiff shrug. "Oh, and when or if we do take the mask off Leslie, Leslie won't remember anything. It'll be like she had amnesia. So she <i>still</i> won't be able to tell anyone what happened."<br/>
<br/>
There's a brief stir, but no one says anything until Mrs. Matthias, her breath coming in quick gulps, says, "I could go back to high school again. As someone else!"<br/>
<br/>
"We could all be someone else," Andy blurts out. "Anyone else. Not just each other."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck," mutters Justin.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, that's where things stand now," Caleb says. "I assume we don't want to tell Lindsay or girls about this." He's answered with mumbled negations. "Then if we want to, uh, do anything with this stuff, we need to keep the book away from Lindsay until we can make this new stuff. <br/>
<br/>
"If, you know," he stammers into the silence that has swallowed the group, "we actually wanna do anything with this new spell. Or with the book. With new masks." <br/>
<br/>
Everyone looks very pale, and no one says anything. Furtive glances are exchanged.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," Caleb says, "I think that's all, so how about we all take off now. We'll get together, like, tomorrow after class to talk about what comes next."<br/>
<br/>
"What about me?" Marianne demands. Her tone is fierce. "I know what I want!"<br/>
<br/>
"You'll just have to wait a day, ma'am," Caleb says. And when no one else says anything, he punches you in the chest and leads you out of the trailer.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So never mind those guys," Caleb says when you and he are hidden in the back corner of a Starbucks. "What are <i>we</i> going to do with <i>you?"</i><br/>
<br/>
And when you don't answer right away, he says, "I mean, you're not going to keep being <i>this guy,</i> are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! I'm just thinking about what you told me. About what Gordon's got up to as me."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shrugs. "It's nothing too bad. So you drop these new friends of his and come back to being friends with me and Tilley."<br/>
<br/>
"And quit that job?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb makes a face at you as he slurps his coffee. "It's good for you to have that job."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want it."<br/>
<br/>
"So quit it and tell your dad I should have it. I still want it."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you want to use this new mask upgrade to give yourself a better life?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb freezes. You lean back and watch him. <br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, man," he finally gasps, and puts his head in his hands. "It can be tempting. But part of me also wants to give that damn book to Lindsay so she can burn it."<br/>
<br/>
Your mouth falls open. "Who are you, and what have you done with the real—?"<br/>
<br/>
The jape dies in your throat as Caleb raises his head. It's not a funny line anymore, not now, not with the kind of stuff you've seen and the kind of stuff that you've done. In fact, that's all it takes to snap Dwayne Macaulay's finely tuned sense of paranoia back into action, and you let your eyes dart about the room before bringing them to rest back on Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"I can let you pull at my face if you want, man," Caleb says. "Ain't no mask coming off me. I've stayed out of them since I had that one run-in with Gordon's mask."<br/>
<br/>
"You still feel burned by that?"<br/>
<br/>
He hesitates, then shakes his head. <br/>
<br/>
"No, that was a cock-up because we didn't have those brain band thingies," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"So why don't you want one?" you press. "Last time we talked, weren't you talking about taking over for Patterson?"<br/>
<br/>
"I've had those other guys to babysit. I mean, they're smart. Joe is. Andy is. Bhodi is, I think, except he's got your brain all mixed up in his, and I can't tell if it's making him smarter or dumber—"<br/>
<br/>
"Careful, asshole. I don't just got this fucker's face, I got <i>his</i> brain too," you remind him.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. But the point is they're still sophomores. And how dumb were we when <i>we</i> were in the tenth grade?"<br/>
<br/>
"What's that got to do with you not turning yourself into Patterson?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shrugs. "I dunno. I guess I've gotten used to thinking and acting like the adult. But maybe I'll think different later." He rests his chin in his hand. "You ask what I'm going to do. I'll wait till I find out from them what <i>they're</i> going to do." He locks eyes on you again. "So what are <i>you</i> going to do?"<br/>
<br/>
You slump in your seat and don't answer.<br/>
<br/>
You'd try thinking things through, but it turns out Caleb is eager to do it for you. "Alright, the possibilities as I see them," he says, and he starts ticking off fingers.<br/>
<br/>
"One, you go back to being yourself. Two, you go back to being yourself, but you keep doing like Gordon was doing, with the job and the new friends."<br/>
<br/>
"That's too hard."<br/>
<br/>
"No it isn't," Caleb retorts. "We already had a plan for that, remember? We were going to copy Gordon's brain so you'd know what he'd been up to, could even keep doing it if you wanted to."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Right.</i> Now you remember that. You had that idea just before Bhodi and the rest of them grabbed you. <br/>
<br/>
But Caleb is still talking. "And third," he says, "you could leave Gordon there, and just go do whatever you want. And four, you could do like the rest of those guys are going to do. Go do what you want, be who you want, and put some of that golem paint inside Gordon's mask. Leave him to cover for you."<br/>
<br/>
You mull all this for awhile, without really thinking it through in any detail. More to delay things than anything else, you observe, "We need to get Dane out of Gordon's mask, at least. His mom wants him back."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb snorts. "Sure. But I bet she forgets about him when she's inside her new body."<br/>
<br/>
"We're going to let her do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"If it'll shut her up and keep her happy, why not?"<br/>
<br/>
You see his point. "Okay. Any other possibilities? For me, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"I think I covered the main ones."</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213
author_id: seuzz
title: Discarding Dwayne
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You suddenly feel very tired. <i>So many things to think about. So many things to get straight. Wouldn't it just be easier to let things drift?</i> You are suddenly eager to get away from Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"I've got things to do," you say as you edge out of the booth.<br/>
<br/>
"What things?"<br/>
<br/>
"This guy's things." You point to your face. "You guys didn't totally blow through the stash I left behind with you, did you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'll have some more for you anyway. Catch you later."<br/>
<br/>
"Will!" Caleb shouts, but you're swiftly out the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your thoughts seem smothered with an acrid smog as you drive across town. It doesn't help that you recognize and can name the cause. <i>Impatience.</i> One of Macaulay's counselors—back when he was a high school troublemaker—told him that was his basic problem: he lacked the patience to think things through, and so always got in trouble by doing the quick and easy (and violent and illegal) thing instead of the hard, smart thing. Dwayne had replied by throwing the man's own stapler at his head.<br/>
<br/>
Well, you're not going to have to play Dwayne much longer. There's just a few things you need to do, and then you'll tear him out of your head. Then you'll be able to give things the good think-through they need.<br/>
<br/>
But a suspicion chews at the back of your head: Except for dumping Macaulay, you're going to leave things just as they are.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Macaulay's place, when you arrive, is an even bigger wreck than when you left it. The furniture has been thrown about, and fly-infested bits of fast-food meals cover the empty surfaces. They must have been left by whoever Mathis sent over to watch and wait for Marianne. <br/>
<br/>
At least the closet is intact. You hustle all of Dwayne's things into a single suitcase, pack up a few toiletries, then leave. Hopefully, anyone who searches it will conclude that Macaulay has lit out of town.<br/>
<br/>
Next you drive downtown, to the Warehouse. It's a weeknight, so the breeze is free to sweep dirt and trash across the empty parking lot. You shouldn't have any trouble with anyone—they should all know you, and know your business—but you slide Macaulay's semiautomatic into the back of your jeans anyway.<br/>
<br/>
But the doors are locked, and you have to batter at them with your fist. "Yeah?" sneers the squint-eyed teenager who eventually answers. "No trespassing."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Christ.</i> You rack the semiautomatic and put the muzzle in the kid's face. "This is my season pass. If Carstairs is here, call him down." <br/>
<br/>
The kid turns pale, and backs away with his hands in the air. "Erik's not here," he stammers.<br/>
<br/>
"Then who is?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just a couple of us." He licks his lips.<br/>
<br/>
"Then get me a fucking beer while I make a call." You wave the pistol, indicating he precede you into the saloon.<br/>
<br/>
"Everything's locked up."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not talking about the fucking stocks, dumbass! I'm talking the fucking beer you motherfuckers got back in the main fucking hall! Move!" You point the piece at his foot, and he rushes off like you lit up his toes with a blow torch.<br/>
<br/>
Back in the saloon you slump in a broken booth with your back to the wall and take out your phone. As you tap out a text to Carstairs, the kid brings you two warm Coors. You slap three ones into his hands, just to show you're not a complete asshole, and glare at the faces that peer around the corner of the far doorway.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's almost forty minutes before a grinning Erik Carstairs swaggers in like the football player he is: blonde, bluff, and packed all over with hard, bulging muscles. "'Sup, man," he asks as you and he slap hands. "Have a good vacation?"<br/>
<br/>
"It was shit. Where's the money?"<br/>
<br/>
"In the office. Wanna see the books?"<br/>
<br/>
You loft a briefcase at him. "Just pack it in. Three weekends' worth."<br/>
<br/>
"Fucking Scorchicos, man." Erik shakes his head. "They keep playing, our guys are gonna have to cut back. Fucking sophomores are the only ones turning out to see them play."<br/>
<br/>
You grunt, and with a shrug Erik saunters into the back. A few minutes later he returns with the suitcase. It will have fifteen thousand dollars in it, money owed by the Warehouse vendors to Karol Mathis for the food and drink he sells them. You slam back the last of your beer and press the second one onto Erik in exchange for the suitcase. "If anyone asks about me, you saw me and I collected."<br/>
<br/>
"Do I need a receipt?"<br/>
<br/>
"Smart ass."<br/>
<br/>
Now you've got the money Mathis asked you to bring him. But you won't: this will reimburse you for the money you lost to him and Brampton. <br/>
<br/>
And its disappearance will be a further motive explaining the disappearance of Dwayne Macaulay himself.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Next you drive out to the far south end of town, where you stop briefly at Ray's Barbecue to pick up some dinner. Were Ray of Ray's Barbecue and Ben of Ben's BBQ related? Maybe; there are urban legends that they were brothers who feuded each other into oblivion. After wolfing down a basket of brisket and fries, you drive a few blocks back into town to check in to the Layzee-Nites Motel.<br/>
<br/>
But after offloading and unpacking the suitcases and toiletries, you make another change. Inside the locked bathroom you stretch out on the floor and remove Macaulay's mask, turning yourself back into Will Prescott. You do not, however, remove the brain band (which would be a separate operation), for you still want Macaulay's brain inside yours for a little while. After changing shirts, you leave everything but the money behind and, under your own face, hike a further few blocks up Twentieth Street to the Donna Courts Motel, where you had installed Marianne. And there, under the name Mack Martin, you check in for the night.<br/>
<br/>
You are just opening the room door, and congratulating yourself on having made a clean escape, when you hear someone call your name. You wheel.<br/>
<br/>
It's Kim Walsh, a girl from school. Actually, she's slightly more than "a" girl: the tiny red-head with the serious demeanor is the president of the student council. But she's turned a bright smile onto you now. "I never thought I'd run into you here," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"I never thought I'd run into you here either," you stammer. You have to wonder what she's doing here—and why she's carrying a set of folded sheets.<br/>
<br/>
"My dad owns this place. But what are you, uh—?" She breaks off, and her smile turns puzzled.<br/>
<br/>
In a flash, with Dwayne's own brain, you see the deductions and intuitions she is making and having. The Donna Courts Motel doesn't just rent rooms to weary travelers. It is also possible to rent a room and get a partial refund for checking out early, and so it also operates as a place where people can rent rooms by the hour if they want a discreet place to fuck or to transact the kind of business that can't be conducted in an office setting. It's Dwayne Macaulay's kind of place.<br/>
<br/>
It's certainly not the kind of place that you'd associate with Kim Walsh.<br/>
<br/>
It's also certainly not the kind of place that anyone would associate with Will Prescott. <br/>
<br/>
So you blush as you see the thought condensing behind Kim's eyes: <i>OMG! Is Will here to ... No! Really?</i><br/>
<br/>
"Uh, I'm spending the night here," you stammer; from the back of your head, Dwayne jeers at you. "Yeah, my folks ... and my brother ... they're out of town? And ... uh ... the house was feeling kind of empty and lonely?"<br/>
<br/>
"You want some company?" Kim smiles and points back to the office. "When I'm done with Room 18, I'll be back in there working on homework."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, no. Thanks. Well, maybe. Depends." Your blush deepens. "I'm, uh, kind of undecided at the moment."<br/>
<br/>
She beams. "Okay, stop by if you want. We had fun Saturday, didn't we?"<br/>
<br/>
You're jolted by a wave of nauseated panic. "Yeah! We should do ... that ... again. Sometime." You feel yourself turning green.<br/>
<br/>
She nods, wishes you a good night, and walks off toward a room across the way. You bolt into your own room and lock the door. It's several minutes. before you stop feeling sick.<br/>
<br/>
It's Dwayne's damn brain band is what it is. It's making you jumpy. <i>Fucking paranoia.</i> You really need to get it out of your head.<br/>
<br/>
And yet ...<br/>
<br/>
As you hunch on the edge of the bed, the nausea of fear yields to a glow of exultation. The adrenaline feels good.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, now that it's over ...<br/>
<br/>
You <i>like</i> the way you handled things at the Warehouse, and the way you're handling them now. In fact, if it weren't for the fatal danger you're putting yourself in with Karol Mathis, you'd be tempted to continue as Macaulay.<br/>
<br/>
And as you muse on it, a vivid fantasy creeps over you.<br/>
<br/>
Why <i>couldn't</i> you continue as Macaulay? But in disguise? Keep the brain band on and ... run his business from inside the high school? No one would suspect Will Prescott—<br/>
<br/>
<i>No!</i> you correct yourself in a flash of inspiration. No one would suspect <i>Dane Matthias</i> of being a secret, criminal mastermind!<br/>
<br/>
It would be easy. Leave Gordon and Dane where they are. Put on Dane's mask. (Someone needs to replace him anyway.) There's no brain band in it, so there'd be room for you to keep Dwayne's brain band in play. Place a few of those golem things like Caleb was telling you about in key positions.<br/>
<br/>
A fake Erik Carstairs to run the Warehouse, for instance. A fake Gary Chen to run the trade inside the school.<br/>
<br/>
A fake Karol Mathis to run the upper end of things ...<br/>
<br/>
... and a fake Dane Matthias, raking in all the money while turning a glassy, dopey grin back on the world.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112131
author_id: seuzz
title: The Many Faces of Crime, Part 1
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You wake the next morning from a hard, dream-filled sleep in which (you seem to remember) you faced down every thug and bully in the school, as well as Karol Mathis and Dwayne Macaulay. It fills you with a determination to follow through on that vague plan for making yourself king of the high school underworld. The determination is only reinforced when, after a shower, you take a seemingly casual stroll down Twentieth Street to the Lazee-Nites Motel, where you note that all the windows in Dwaynes' car have been smashed in.<br/>
<br/>
Karol Mathis is already on the hunt for you. He just doesn't know who "you" are—or who you might be.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Back at the Donna, you use the rooms' landline to call Caleb. He picks you up at around nine (having sent his golem in to cover for him at school) and you treat him to breakfast at the nearby Sunshine Diner. He gives you the latest news—Andy Jensen and Justin Orr have already picked out two new sophomore faces for themselves—and asks you about your own plans.<br/>
<br/>
"Let's leave Gordon and Dane where they are," you say. "We can put 'em back to normal later if we want."<br/>
<br/>
"Dane's mom wants him back to normal," Caleb reminds you.<br/>
<br/>
"She'll get him. I'll cover for him."<br/>
<br/>
"You?" Caleb blinks hard.<br/>
<br/>
"How hard can it be? Besides, after everything that's gone down, I want a vacation, and that goofball's the right kind of vacation." You twine your hands behind your head and sit back. "Every day's a day at the beach for Dane."<br/>
<br/>
After some thought, Caleb sees your point and expresses a certain amount of envy. But then he changes the subject to tell you about some damage to the grimoire. <br/>
<br/>
"I didn't do it," he insists after retrieving it from his car and showing it to you. "It" is the page that comes after the spell that makes the golem paint—the bottom half has been torn away. Without a full set of instruction, and no sigil, it will be impossible to execute the new spell, which means you can't get to the spells that come after. But after staring at the page awhile, you shrug. "We got enough to have fun," you tell Caleb. "Speaking of which, what are we gonna do today?"<br/>
<br/>
His plan accords fully with yours: buy supplies and make more masks.<br/>
<br/>
For seven hours straight you work. You return to the Donna, where you make a dozen masks and blank brain bands, and a tub of sealant. You also make a small tub of golem paint. Caleb asks why you need it, as your plan is to leave Gordon and Dane to manage as best they can. "In case I ever need to get out of the Dane mask, and into someone else's," you tell him—an explanation he accepts.<br/>
<br/>
You also bought a car buffer—with the fifteen thousand from the Warehouse you could have bought hundreds of them—and polish up the masks while Caleb carves brain bands. Including the other items you already had on hand, you have eight masks and six bands ready to use by the time you break for the evening. Caleb has also make a special trip to collect one brain band from the other guys—the copy of your own brain that you gave to Joe Dickerson when you left town.<br/>
<br/>
After Caleb has gone, you put on Dwayne Macaulay's mask, and with his phone you text Erik Carstairs. You give him your room number, and tell him you need to see him in an hour.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're at the door almost before the sharp knock subsides. You open it and hop back into the middle of the room. "Hey, you alone?" you demand of Carstairs. "Come in, lock the door."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I'm alone. Who would I bring with me," he says as he shuts the door.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't know. Don't wanna know." You hop over to the curtains. "Sit on the bed."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck's going on, man?"<br/>
<br/>
"Gotta make sure of things." You peep through a crack between the edge of the curtain and the wall. It's dark out, so it's mostly a futile action. "I said sit down," you repeat. Carstairs drops onto the bed with a worried frown.<br/>
<br/>
"There's been a change in management downtown," you tell him. "That's why I'm a little jumpy. You can do me a favor, help me out."<br/>
<br/>
"What's that?" Erik says with obvious wariness.<br/>
<br/>
"You see that thing on the bed next to you? That mask? Put it on your face."<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't move. "I said, put it on your face," you repeat.<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck is going on, man, you can't just—?"<br/>
<br/>
But you can and do. You whip the pistol from the back of your jeans and train it on his face. "Put it on, man."<br/>
<br/>
He jumps back. "Jesus!"<br/>
<br/>
You advance two steps. "Put it on, kid, I'm telling you nicely you'll—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright! Alright! Jesus!" He almost drops the mask as with trembling hands he lifts it and puts to his face. For a moment it hangs there, making him look like a blank, blue-faced ghost. Then it vanishes. His hands fall to his side, and he sags and falls back. The bed bounces under his weight.<br/>
<br/>
You cross to the rear of the motel room, crouch behind the bed, and with the pistol cover the doors and windows. For ten nerve-twisting minutes you wait for someone to burst in. Dwayne <i>always</i> worries about unexpected company.<br/>
<br/>
No one does. But still your heart hammers in your chest when a blue glow from Erik's face tells you the mask has finished copying him. With one hand gripping the pistol, you nudge the mask off him, and drop a different mask onto him. From your vantage point he's upside-down, so you don't see the change until he sits up and turns around. Will Prescott pulls at his shirt—a sleeveless purple thing that was too big for Carstairs and is like a tent draped over his new form—and gazes back at you with round eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God," he says. "It worked, didn't it?"<br/>
<br/>
You weren't keen on duplicating yourself again, but you needed a spot to put Erik until you're done making his mask. "Take those things off and get under the covers," you order your temporary self. "Anyone comes in through that door— Well, I'll probably hear them myself," you finish lamely as you sweep up Erik's mask and take it into the bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
Now it's your hands that are trembling, and it seems to take an ungodly long time to get first the sealant and then the golem paint into the mask, time during which at each moment you expect to hear the shattering of glass or the cracking of the door. When you're done you don't even bother to switch out of Macaulay's clothes, but instead just drop into the bathtub—like a too-small sarcophagus—and rip his mask from your face.<br/>
<br/>
And then you don't have to relax, because the darkness drops on you of its own accord.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Waking is a brief matter. And again darkness engulfs you after you've torn Macaulay's brain band out of your forehead.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
And another darkness overwhelms you after you've placed Carstairs mask on your face. Before that, though, you snip off some of your hair and burn it inside Erik's mask. That gives you a chance to study it. The lights that play over its surface suggest, in an abstract way, the narrow, angular lines of his face. More convincing are the blue letters that danced over the brain band you've soldered into it: ERIK THOMAS CARSTAIRS. This will be your first experience with a mask that unites body and mind, and it makes you nervous, for Caleb has warned you that memories are slower to come when brain and body overwhelm the wearer at the same time. But you don't think you need to be convincing as Carstairs for the next part of your plan, and you're pretty sure you can remember all that you would need to know to pull it off.<br/>
<br/>
Besides, you'll be taking a convincer with you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's a hard pain in your leg when you wake, and you have the impression that you've only been unconscious for a few minutes, and maybe only a few seconds. Certainly you're very groggy. Your legs are bunched up at the head of the bathtub, and with a hiss and a grunt and a gasp you unfold them. There's something funny about them. The calves are very large and dark, and they're covered with fine golden hairs. You put your hand to your forehead, as though intuitively trying to ward off an incipient headache.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God!</i> You fly backward, and crack the back of your head on the tile behind. You nurse it as a cascading flood of memories pours through that crack, washing away your own brain and replacing it with another.<br/>
<br/>
At least, that's what it feels like. Then, when your skull has filled with memories and impressions that tell you that you're ERIK THOMAS CARSTAIRS, you feel yourself materializing in the middle of them, like a fish in an aquarium. They seep into you, and you fill them with yourself. You sink lower in the cold tub with a soft groan.<br/>
<br/>
For several minutes you relax there, letting yourself acclimate to the eddies and currents of Erik Carstairs' mind. Your cock unfurls as you think of the girls you've had; your muscles tense and ache at the memories of the tackles you've made; you smile as you think of friends embraced and enemies humiliated. You wedge your strong, narrow feet against the tile around the spout, and let mind and muscle and blood and sinew knit into one solid whole.<br/>
<br/>
You are Erik Carstairs.<br/>
<br/>
You cradle your hairy nuts and tell it to yourself again. <i>I'm Erik Fucking Carstairs.</i><br/>
<br/>
Then with a heaving gasp you get to your feet and study yourself in the mirror. The close-shorn blonde hair with the twinkling highlights. The dark eyes under the dark eyebrows. The mischievous smile that slashes across your face. The meaty slabs of the chest.<br/>
<br/>
The naked Will Prescott watches with wide eyes as you swagger into the bedroom to dress in Erik's—your—clothes.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121311
author_id: seuzz
title: The Many Faces of Crime, Part 2
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It takes maybe thirty seconds to pull on Erik's things: jockeys and jeans, ankle socks and Converse sneakers, the sleeveless tee. It takes longer to retrieve Erik's backpack from his car—a twenty-year-old Pontiac Trans Am that his dad restored and gave to him for his sixteenth birthday—and dump his books out and replace them with the money from the Warehouse, a blank mask and other mask supplies, and Macaulay's pistol. You hike it onto your shoulder, give Will Prescott a wink and a smirk, and tell him to hold the fort till you get back.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You chuck your chin at Brian, the floor manager, as you saunter into Ben's BBQ. "The boss in?" you yell at him, and inhale the tangy odor of tomato sauce, spices, and smoked meats. It makes your mouth water.<br/>
<br/>
"In the back," he says. "You need him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Guy at work gave me a message to pass on."<br/>
<br/>
Brian nods, and you slip around the counter and dodge your way past work stations to an unmarked door. Narrow as the hallways were before, when you could slip through them in Dwayne Macaulay's scrawny frame, they are almost impossible for you to squeeze through in Carstairs's bulkier body. Not to imply that he's "big", for he's quite lean and trim, with narrow hips and a flat belly. But your elbows bump into the boxes, and you back into a stack of crates when one of the meat carvers, returning from a smoke break, tries to slip past you.<br/>
<br/>
"Come in," a mild voice says in answer to your knock on the door marked "Manager".<br/>
<br/>
For just a flash, you imagine Karol Mathis recognizing you beneath your disguise, and rising from behind his desk with his own pistol to blow your face, mask and all, clean off. But he only looks up at you with an expression of mild annoyance. You shut the door behind you, twist the lock, and grin at him as he frowns.<br/>
<br/>
"Dwayne says you trashed his car," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
Mathis's eyes freeze, but he says nothing.<br/>
<br/>
"Dwayne called me, said to tell you he got the message."<br/>
<br/>
"Where is Dwayne?" Mathis asks.<br/>
<br/>
"He got your message, that's how Dwayne is." Your grin widens as you set the backpack on the corner of Mathis's desk. "But I saw him, and he's shitting bricks. Bricks shaped like—" You open the pack, and Mathis tenses. He doesn't relax even after you start pulling out packets of twenties and hundreds and dropping them on the desk.<br/>
<br/>
"He said there's fifteen thousand there. He collected it from me night before last, then gave it back to me to give to you. He's on his way out of town."<br/>
<br/>
"Do you know where?" Mathis picks up one of the packets and idly rifles the bills.<br/>
<br/>
"Nope. Oh, he also said to give you—" You take out the mask.<br/>
<br/>
Your plan had been to tell him it was a valuable antique, then when a propitious moment came you'd whip out the pistol and force him to don it, as you'd done with Erik. But now, with the mask in your hand, and him sitting not two feet from you, you ask yourself <i>Why the fuck not?</i>, and just smush it into his face. His chair rolls back and hits the wall, and he slides out of it. You push him into a corner and take the chair yourself after making him set a little more comfortably on the floor.<br/>
<br/>
A tense ten-minute wait ensues. You get one bad scare when there's a knock on the door, and a rattle of the knob. Voices sound inarticulately, then move off. Mathis's phone dings, showing a text from "Nora." (Who?) You set out the rest of the supplies, pack the money away, and lightly drum your fingers while waiting for things to start moving again.<br/>
<br/>
You're able to move a lot more quickly this time, once the mask is out of him, and you get the mask sealed and painted lickety-split. You half expect Mathis to pop his eyes open and grab your wrist as you bend over to put the mask back on him, but nothing happens until you push it into him, after which his eyes open.<br/>
<br/>
And just like that, you are now in control of Karol Mathis's criminal empire.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Not that you want to run it from where he's sitting. That's the entire point of using Dane's mask as a disguise. Which reminds you ... <br/>
<br/>
Oh, but first you question Mathis about his end of the set up at the high schools and the Warehouse. It's none of it very interesting or even very complex, and after thinking about it a few minutes you decide to let things continue as they have been, only without Dwayne Macaulay as an intermediary. No, from this point on, you explain to the compliant Karol Mathis, all the weed that Macaulay used to supply to Westside High and Eastman High, to the Warehouse and the river bank, will be delivered to the Warehouse along with the shipments of liquor and food, and that you—Erik Carstairs—will distribute it from there and return the payments to Mathis. He docilely accepts your decision, and with another wink and a smirk at a compliant golem you leave him.<br/>
<br/>
"What, were you sucking him off back there?" Brian chides as you swagger out through the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
"More like the other way around," you retort. You jab him with a strong finger. "But don't tell him I said so." You both guffaw.<br/>
<br/>
Back at the motel you divest yourself of Erik's mask, replace your mask on the real football player with that of his own golem, and explain to said golem how he's going to be running things at the Warehouse. But the golem is impatient with the explanations, for he remembers giving them to Mathis himself. So you cut the talk short and have him drive you clear to the other side of town, to Dane Matthias's trailer.<br/>
<br/>
There's no one home, to your surprise, but you remember where the spare key is kept. That's when you discover the door isn't even locked. Some of Dwayne's paranoia creeps over you, even though you are out of his brain band, as you and Erik enter the dark trailer, but no one jumps you. After digging through Dane's room to find the mask and requisite wear, you change yourself into Dane Matthias. "Oh, whoa! Fuck!" you moan in what you hope is a very Dane-like way as you study your close-shorn hair in the mirror. It's cut so short that you can't even tell that's it's a coppery-reddish blonde; there only dark roots. "My 'do, man! I look like a fucking, uh, killbot or something."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Hrm,</i> you think. <i>Maybe this isn't going to be as easy as I thought.</i><br/>
<br/>
Still, you think you can fake your way through long enough to make one last replacement. You tell Erik who to text and what to say, and explain to him how it's going to work.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Gary Chen's eyes sharpen and glitter when they land on you. "I thought we fucking got rid of you," he hisses.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, come on, man, don't be like that," you whine from the sofa where you're sprawled. "You know what they did to me? You know where they sent me?" You pull at the short tufts of hair on your crown. "Look at it!"<br/>
<br/>
Chen turns his head and blows a fat glob of spit onto the floor. "Fuck you. Like I give a shit. I'd'a done—" He turns again his head again as the Erik-golem steps out from a nearby corner, where he'd been standing quietly. "So the fuck do you want, man? And why fucking here?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's been a shakeup," the Erik-golem tells him. "Dwayne's run off, he's not distributing our shit to us anymore. New pipeline set up."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" Chen cocks his head. "You were getting your shit from Dwayne? Fuck! I got 'sclusive rights at Westside, that fucker was—" He goes up on his toes, rooster-like. "Karol Mathis know what kind of shit Dwayne was pulling? Do <i>you</i> fucking know who—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Change of management there too," you tell Chen. He turns a sneer at you, then does a double-take as you level the pistol at him. "I'm in charge now."<br/>
<br/>
The air is electric as no one says anything. Then Chen laughs.<br/>
<br/>
"Faugh! Gimme that, you dope-head." In two strides he's almost atop you. "Before you—"<br/>
<br/>
But the Erik-golem is faster, and throws himself at Chen. The pair fall at you like an avalanche, and you hurl the (empty) gun away to shield yourself.<br/>
<br/>
But Erik and Chen between them somehow manage to regain their balance, and slowly they twist and quietly they grunt as they struggle. Erik has his arms around Chen and is pulling him back, so that Chen has only one foot on the ground. But he's thrashing furiously in Carstairs's arms, and as his lips peel back and his bright white teeth flash, you realize that's trying to find a way and a place to sink a deep and painful bite into his captor.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't get a chance. You pull the third blank mask of the night out from under your butt, leap forward, and jam it onto Chen's face. He stiffens, then sags, almost taking Erik with him as he collapses.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your orders to the Chen-golem are brief and to the point: to keep dealing his weed the way he had been already, and once a month to collect a new delivery from Erik while still paying off Mathis. He accepts your instructions with an ill-suppressed, almost slavering rage, but a few more instructions give you the confidence to send him out to do his job. You send Erik home as well.<br/>
<br/>
Back in Dane's bedroom, you shove stuff off his bed and prop yourself up with your phone to text Caleb to tell him where you are and who you are. You tell him nothing else, of course. Then you ponder what to do next.<br/>
<br/>
You might persevere with your plan to impersonate Dane, but the evening has shaken your confidence a little. Maybe you should switch to Erik's mask, or to Chen's. But you also still like the idea of being someone "unexpected" as a crime lord.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe a teacher?</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213113
author_id: seuzz
title: The War Chest
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're woken the next morning by the chime on your phone. It's a text from Caleb, telling you he's on his way over to spend the day with you. The golem will be covering for him again at school.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," you mutter as you let him into Dane's trailer. "Don't you plan on ever going to school again?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sometime," he says, and pushes a bag of donuts at you as he squeezes past you into the trailer. "Just not as myself." He looks around the messy living room. "And are you really planning on living in this dump?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, someone's gotta cover for Dane," you remind him. "And it makes a great clubhouse when his mom's not here. Which she isn't, I don't think."<br/>
<br/>
"She isn't," Caleb replies. "She was out all night with the other girls." He grabs the donut bag back from you and dips a hand into it. "She is getting pretty frantic about getting herself a new face, though. Which I guess is what I came out here to talk to you about."<br/>
<br/>
But it isn't Mrs. Matthias who he wants to specifically talk to you about, but plans in general. The other guys have all worked out who they want to be, he tells you, and they plan to start making the replacements tonight. So Caleb has come over to help you finish up making the necessary masks.<br/>
<br/>
It gives you a shiver to think of it—a bunch of guys turning themselves into copies of other people, and taking over their lives—even though that's what you were doing yesterday with Erik Carstairs and Gary Chen. And it's what you're doing now, which is why you are in Dane Matthias's trailer. But a thing like that, you suppose, always looks worse from the outside than from the inside.<br/>
<br/>
That's not all you have to talk about, though. Lindsay, he says, is still trying to get the grimoire back from Bhodi so that she can destroy it. "I think we can keep it from her for another day," he tells you as you dump the unpolished masks and unfinished brain bands onto the floor between you. "After that, she's going to start thinking something is up, if she's not thinking it already."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do you want to do about it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Give it to her," he says. <br/>
<br/>
"What?" you exclaim.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it's not like we can get any farther into it, you know," he reminds you. "So it's not like we're giving anything up."<br/>
<br/>
"What if we want to make more masks and shit?"<br/>
<br/>
"Funny you should mention that," Caleb says. "See, I was figuring that if you didn't have anything else to do—" He breaks off to give you a squint. "Do you?"<br/>
<br/>
You prickle warily. "I dunno. What do you want from me? Maybe I do got plans."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb snorts. "Well, I was figuring that, if you didn't have anything else to do, you could copy out the key spells so we could keep on keeping on. Like you said. We don't need the book for that, not if we've got copies of the key spells. <br/>
<br/>
"The book doesn't like it when you try copying stuff out of it," you remind him.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, could you at least try copying down the sigil things? And make some rough notes? In case we need to make more of this stuff? Not the ones that make golems, we don't need those. But the ones for making masks and—"<br/>
<br/>
Well, he's right that it makes sense to make your own copy of the book, so you can give the original to Lindsay. So you agree to try copying the book, though it does leave you feeling like you're doing more homework by skipping school than you were when you going.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But for the rest of the day you and Caleb make more masks and brain-bands, so that by the time he leaves (taking a couple of masks and brain-bands with him) you have turned the rest of your supplies into a war chest of sixteen blank masks and eleven bands. You can tell by Caleb's expression that he has the feeling that there should be more than that on hand, but he doesn't ask, and you don't volunteer that you used some of them yesterday to make yourself a trio of golems. He leaves you the grimoire to copy out overnight, and says he'll be back in the morning to collect it so he can pass it along to Bhodi to give to Lindsay. As he heads out the door, you remember to ask him to ask Joe Dickerson if you can have back the brain band of yourself that you made for him.<br/>
<br/>
Mrs. Matthias must have taken advantage of it being a Friday to go out (in disguise, certainly) to some high school parties, for she doesn't come home that night, giving you the freedom of the trailer to copy spells into an art sketchbook that Dane had in his bedroom. To your annoyance, you find that you still can't copy down the spell ingredients without breaking pencil points or smudging the ink, so you settle for writing down veiled clues and reminders of what kind of things you need for the spells, rather than an actual recipes. Given that difficulty, you are pleasantly surprised to find that the book—if it really is its magical influence that is interfering—will let you copy down the sigils. Even better, it turns out to be very easy to copy them, despite their intricate and highly detailed designs—your hand seems to move of its own accord, and the wheels emerge almost perfectly even as you work freehand. So easy is it, in fact, that you find your mind wandering as you entertain plans and possibilities for your own impersonations.<br/>
<br/>
The day you spent in Dane's trailer has convinced you that you don't want to adopt Dane Matthias's persona. It's too filthy an experience, and the stories that Caleb told you about the way "Gordon" is now behaving have reminded you that the real Dane is still around, so that it would be awkward if he tried renewing his acquaintance with his replacement. Caleb has also told you about Mrs. Matthias's plans—she has picked out the identity of the sophomore girl she means to replace—and that reminds you that as Dane you'd be sharing this trailer with a fake version of his mother, which gives you the slight case of the heebie-jeebies as well. At the same time, you don't want to adopt (at least not semi-permanently) the personas of any of the three golems that you made. Carstairs, Chen, and Mathis are way too obviously tied to illegal activities. You still want an impersonation that is completely above suspicion.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb tried telling you about the classmates that your new conspirators intend to impersonate, and about the impersonations that they have suggested to him. But the thought of being a sophomore again didn't excite you. Also, you decided it would probably be awkward if you, as a sophomore, were ever seen talking to Carstairs or Chen, your two chief lieutenants, let alone Karol Mathis.<br/>
<br/>
And so, almost by default, you driven to the last expedient. You are going to have to "break bad" and impersonate a teacher.<br/>
<br/>
Although, as you think about it, would that be such an awful choice?<br/>
<br/>
You'd be an adult, which would be an advantage, and you'd be able to talk to Carstairs and Chen without it looking weird. You could collect and relay messages through a fake version of Dane Matthias to Caleb and the others. As a "crime kingpin," you'd be above suspicion.<br/>
<br/>
The only problem is that almost all the teachers you know (or have had) are all kinds of old and ugly. Some of them are the kind of hideous that you don't often find outside of a deep-sea trench.<br/>
<br/>
Like, how horrible would it be to wake up every morning as old, fat, bad-tempered Mr. Walberg?<br/>
<br/>
You have to remind yourself that those are <i>your</i> teachers you are thinking of. There are at least some other teachers at the school who would be tolerable as impersonations. Mr. Hagerman, for instance, who was your junior-year English teacher, is young and hunky—all the girls in class had a crush on him, and you'd bet he gets lots of pussy outside of school. (Though there were rumors he got lots of pussy inside school as well.)<br/>
<br/>
As you finish up, though, you reflect that you don't actually know enough to pick out someone to be at school. You could just make a list of the teachers you know, or go online to find someone to be. But you'd have a better idea of who to be if you consulted your two golems. Because if you're going to run your crime ring from inside the school, it would be best if you turned yourself into a teacher that either Carstairs or Chen actually took a class with.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Unless</i> (it occurs to you) <i>I just pick the best teacher, then turn one of </i>their<i> students into a golem.</i></span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112131131
author_id: seuzz
title: Girls Galore
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's Friday night, which gives you the weekend to ponder your strategy.<br/>
<br/>
But the weekend comes with some serious distractions.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're woken Saturday morning by the sound of someone bustling around inside the trailer, but it's a text from Caleb that really opens your eyes: <i>New guys'll be over abt ten plan to use ur place to make more subs.</i> It takes you a minute or so to sort out what he means.<br/>
<br/>
You pull on some flannel cutoffs—the remnants of old pajama bottoms, it looks like—and pad out into the main part of the trailer. Dane's mom is bustling around, getting it cleaned up. She looks up at you with a crinkly smile—<br/>
<br/>
—which almost instantly falls off her face. Her expression turns haggard as she stares at you without speaking.<br/>
<br/>
"I just got a text," you tell her warily. "Um, some guys are supposed to be out here around ten?"<br/>
<br/>
Mrs. Matthias says nothing, but her gaze narrows. "You know about this?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
She says nothing, but returns to straightening up the living room. She moves much more slowly and deliberately, and you can tell she's watching you out of the corner of her eye. After she's gathered an armful of old newspapers, she thrusts them at you with the muttered order to take them out to the garbage. When you come back in, she brusquely tells you to clean up the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
<i>She doesn't know if I'm her son or someone else,</i> you realize. <i>And either way, it's freaking her out.</i><br/>
<br/>
And that freaks you out a little. You don't know if it would make her feel better if you took off the mask or not.<br/>
<br/>
The two of you eventually settle into a mindless routine of helping each other straighten the place. You take over vacuuming duties when she hauls out the machine but can't get it to work. Gradually, the trailer becomes neater in appearance, though there's a funky smell you can't get rid of. And, all in all, the place just looks dumpier and even more tired after there's no garbage to soften the fundamental cheapness of the place.<br/>
<br/>
At a little after ten the door rattles under a flurry of hard knocks. You open it to find two boys. They're strangers, but they grin at you like they know you.<br/>
<br/>
One of them, at least, you are familiar with. Andrew Webb was the asshole you got in a fight with on the day you impersonated Bhodi. His close-cropped, white-blonde hair bristles and gleams in the morning light, and he smirks knowingly at you. In his red, sleeveless jersey and shorts, he looks like he's trying out for a sophomore-class production of "Future Douchebags of Westside High."<br/>
<br/>
The other kid is even burlier. He has strong legs and and biceps and a trim torso under his tight, yellow t-shirt, and he gives you a faint—but very direct and confident—smile. His brown hair curls stiffly over his ears and off the back of his neck, and a little tuft of chest hair puffs out over the front collar of his shirt. Like Andrew, he looks like he just came, freshly showered, from the gym.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey man," this second kid greets you in a low, strong baritone. "You heard we were coming over, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, I guess," you stammer. <i>And who are you?</i> you want to add. <i>And who are you supposed to be?</i><br/>
<br/>
You step aside to let them in. The kid in the yellow shirt nods at Mrs. Matthias, who has stopped in midst of her dusting to stare back at him with obvious, eye-watering lust. "Paulina!" he calls to her. "You were great last night!"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Paulina?</i> That doesn't sound right, but you can't remember what Dane's mom's name is.<br/>
<br/>
But she is melting while you are wondering. "Hi guys!" she coos back. Then she blushes and fiddles with her hair. "Oh God, I'm a mess!"<br/>
<br/>
"We'll get you cleaned up," Andrew says, and his smirk deepens. He winks at you. With an embarrassed murmur, Mrs. Matthias hurries down the hallway into the back of the trailer, leaving you alone with—<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I give up," you tell them. "Who are you guys?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ethan Clayborne," says the kid in the yellow shirt. He puts out a hand, and almost crushes yours in his grip. "Andrew Webb," says the other, and punches you in the shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. And underneath?" You wave a hand in front of your face.<br/>
<br/>
The boys exchange a quick, shame-faced grin. "Justin," mumbles Ethan. "Andy," says Andrew. "Jensen," he quickly adds.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Okay, so that would be the kid with the long, acne-scarred face who's playing Kid Handsome,</i> you remind yourself, <i>and Bhodi's best friend who's playing the soccer hooligan that Bhodi hates.</i><br/>
<br/>
"So your friend thought this'd be the perfect place to make some more swaps," Ethan tells you. "Last night, at the party, it was kind of—" He grins at Andrew, who smirks back. "Well, it was kind of a mess."<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't get as messy as <i>you</i> wanted," Andrew chortles. He punches Ethan in the shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
The moment weirdly hangs. Then Ethan flies at Andrew, grappling with him. The boys tumble onto a sofa, then roll off. There's a lot of soft grunting, and Andrew squeals and yelps a couple of times. But in only a few seconds Ethan has the other one pinned to the floor of the trailer. He holds him there a moment, then gets up, slapping Andrew on the ass as he rises. Andrew rolls onto his back to grin up at the other. "Fucker," he says.<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. "So what's the plan?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Gonna get a couple of girls out here," Ethan says. He picks idly at a scab on his forearm before brushing it off. "Someone for whatsername—" He jerks his chin at the hallway Mrs. Matthias disappeared down. "And some'n for Grant." Andrew hoots. "We set it all up last night," Ethan continues. "After, you know." He arches his back and stretches.<br/>
<br/>
<i>He's really enjoying the feel of that body,</i> you think. It does look really fit.<br/>
<br/>
The story, as they explain it to you, is that "Ethan" and "Andrew" invited two girls—Leslie Osbourne and Kaylee Mercier—to a birthday party this afternoon, giving Dane's address as the location. Grant Lowery—who is pulsing so hard with anticipation it looks like he's going to split himself asunder—shows up soon after with the "party favors": a quartet of masks and brain-bands, plus various sealants. Mrs. Matthias appears as the time closes in on noon, looking freshly showered and made up. Caleb is the last to arrive, and he is so late that he has hardly time to greet you before Grant, who is watching from the window at the front of the trailer, shouts a warning that Kaylee has arrived. That sets off a flurry of preparation, with Grant and Andrew almost tripping over each other to get to the front door.<br/>
<br/>
You just have time to get a quick look at Kaylee Mercier as she comes in the front before Grant has grabbed her from the rear and Andrew has shoved a mask into her face. Your first impression is that she's another Chelsea Cooper: short and tanned, with hair like flowing gold and a bright, warm grin. She's dressed in a sleeveless blue blouse and tight jeans. Grant squawks and slaps himself in the face with excitement as Ethan and Andrew carry the girl into the back of the trailer.<br/>
<br/>
"Christ," says Caleb from next to your elbow. "Thank God they weren't this sloppy last night." It seems to you they handled the girl quite expertly, but you only ask him "what happened" last night.<br/>
<br/>
"They were at a party. Dane's mom was there too," he adds in a low murmur. The woman is standing at the entrance to the hallway, watching as the three boys maneuver their first victim down it. "Done up like Paulina and trying to go down on every boy there," he adds in a still lower voice.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Paulina?</i> you wonder yourself. <i>Lindsay's friend? The fuck?</i><br/>
<br/>
"Anyway, she's the one who got it done. She pulled that Ethan dope off into some upstairs room or other, probably promising to give him a blow job, then pulled Justin in so they could do a switch. Jesus. Glad I didn't find out till after that's how they did it. Then her and Justin went and got the other guy."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh. And now this girl—"<br/>
<br/>
"She's smoking, isn't she?"<br/>
<br/>
You tense all over. <i>Yeah, she sure as fuck looked good.</i> "Uh, is that who Dane's mom—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Her or Grant. Don't remember which."<br/>
<br/>
"Grant?" you ask in some surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." Caleb gives you a look. "She's got a pussy down there, you know. Imagine having that and those boobs to play with any time you wanted."<br/>
<br/>
You freeze, then gasp at the picture. <i>Why didn't I think of that?</i> you ask yourself.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb gives you a sidelong look. "So," he asks, "have you been thinking about who you maybe might—?"<br/>
<br/>
"What about you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Neh, I'm going to wait. I don't know the kids down in that class, you know? Anyway, Justin and Joe and them are working to some kind of plan."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." Caleb nods, then his tone turns acidic. "They're gonna turn themselves into a bunch of cool, sexy, popular cocksuckers."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Not a bad plan,</i> you reflect.<br/>
<br/>
But you've got one of your own.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The guys are still busy in the back when there's another knock at the door, and you open it to usher in another girl. She's dressed more modestly than Kaylee, in a long-sleeve shirt and white hose under her gray skirt. But you don't take long with her, and a moment after she's introduced herself as "Leslie," and looked around the trailer with a puzzled expression, you and Caleb hit her with a mask. Mrs. Matthias comes running out as you bundle this second girl toward the hallway. She moans with obvious delight when she sees your latest victim.<br/>
<br/>
<i>This must be the girl for her,</i> you reflect.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121311311
author_id: seuzz
title: A Very Merry Re-Birthday
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Oh my God," Leslie Osbourne moans as she studies herself on her camera phone. She strokes her throat with her free hand, and her head lolls to one side. "I can't fucking believe this! Just look at me!"<br/>
<br/>
Kaylee Mercier giggles and reaches for Leslie's bosom. "Touching is believing," she says, but Leslie slaps her away before she tweak her friend's nipple.<br/>
<br/>
Ethan Clayborne and Andrew Webb exchange sniggering grins, and blush. Their eyes are shining hard.<br/>
<br/>
The swaps were all completed in the back bedrooms while you and Caleb held down the front. From out of the back there first emerged a person who looked like Grant Lowery, blushing and grinning beneath his cherry-dyed hair, but he only said, "Wish they'd let me stay" before he hurried out the door. A little while after that, someone who looked like Mrs. Matthias came stumbling out. She looked a lot less happy, and gave you a hard squint before grabbing up her purse and keys and going out too. Then it was quiet for a bit, except for snatches of muttered conversation that echoed distinctly from the back of the trailer.<br/>
<br/>
Then there was lots of squealing, and Ethan and Andrew, blushing like ripe tomatoes, came shambling out and threw themselves onto the dumpy sofas. They only guffawed and slapped at each other when you asked how things were going in the back.<br/>
<br/>
Kaylee Mercier was the first to emerge. She came on shy, mincing steps, a mad grin spread across her face. Her hair was tousled, but she was modestly made up too. For a moment she stood in the middle of the living room, hands clasped behind her ass, fidgeting as she balanced on the sides of her feet, grinning at Ethan and Andrew. Then with a shriek she fell into the chair opposite them and covered her blushing face with her hands. When she dropped them, tears of laughter were streaming down her cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
The boys laughed with her, and stared hard at her. Pretty clearly, it seemed to you, they were hard tempted to lunge over and perch by her side, where they could lean over to plunge a forefinger down the front of her blouse and between her boobs.<br/>
<br/>
Because that's what <i>you</i> were sorely tempted to do.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, she and the boys laughed and cackled. Between fits of laughter they gossiped briefly about teachers and classes they shared, which would set them off laughing again. Andrew almost passed out and fell off the sofa at one point, he was laughing so hard.<br/>
<br/>
You and Caleb could only exchanged pained grimaces, which the others ignored.<br/>
<br/>
But when Leslie came out, everyone sobered up.<br/>
<br/>
She seemed more comfortable on her feet than Kaylee had been, so that she <i>glided</i> in. But there was something very self-conscious about it, too, and there was something self-conscious about the way she tilted her head and lifted her chin to smile at the rest of the company. She was more neatly coiffed than Kaylee, with thick, mouse-brown hair that fell down her back and over one shoulder. She was very pretty, with regular features, but she hadn't the bursting sunshine visage of Kaylee. (Something about her, in fact, reminds you of the snooty Kelsey Blankenship in your own class.) She was very slim, with a fairly flat chest, and thin arms and legs. But she had a beautiful neck, which is probably why it was the first thing she reached for after she was seated and had taken out her cell phone to admire herself.<br/>
<br/>
Which she is doing even now.<br/>
<br/>
"Happy birthday," Ethan grunts at her.<br/>
<br/>
She gives him a narrow look. "What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"I just mean, it's like the first day of the new you. Your birth day. You know." He shrugs. "Re-birthday?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's a re-birthday for you too," Leslie retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well." He shrugs again.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyway, isn't it really your birthday?" Leslie presses.<br/>
<br/>
Ethan stares at her. "Well, not till tomorrow," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"But aren't you going over to Dana's? Wasn't she doing a party or something for you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, not for me," he stammers. "But, um." He leans forward with a sigh. "I guess I—"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I've got a better idea, anyway" Leslie says. "A re-birthday present for you." She leans forward. "Come with me into the back so I can ... give it to you."<br/>
<br/>
Ethan's eyes widen.<br/>
<br/>
Her talk is giving you a boner, so you can only imagine what it does to Ethan when she runs a tongue over her lower lip while giving him a hungry stare. Then she gets up and glides over him, and straddles his lap with his hips between her knees. She wraps her arms around his head and pulls his face to her breast.<br/>
<br/>
Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpse Andrew and Kaylee exchanging shocked but shining grins.<br/>
<br/>
Leslie lowers herself onto Ethan's lap, and leans over to put her mouth to his ear. She nuzzles at it and whispers into it. Ethan's eyebrows pop up, and a happy flush blooms in his cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
Leslie slips back onto her feet, and extends her hands to help pull Ethan up. He staggers heavily after her, back toward the bedrooms. You and the others are left with your mouths hanging open.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God," Andrew says, and turns his brightly blushing face toward Kaylee.<br/>
<br/>
She returns him a grin like a shark. "You don't want my teeth anywhere <i>near</i> your dick, motherfucker," she tells him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After an awkward wait, the rest of you decided to leave and come back later. You decamp to a nearby McDonalds, where Andrew and Kaylee fake flirt with each other. But they break off long enough for Andrew to ask you and Caleb about "what kind of thing" you're looking for in an "upgrade." Caleb mutters something back about wanting to "kick the tires" and "look at the showroom displays" first. Kaylee bursts out with the bright suggestion that you all should go out to Dana DiBenedetto's place for some "happening" or other.<br/>
<br/>
But that doesn't work out. Andrew texts Ethan, to goad him into going out to Dana's as well, then bursts out laughing and shows you the curse words that Ethan texts back. A little later, though, after getting another text, he forces you all to drive back to Dane's, and then <i>he</i> disappears into the back while Ethan, looking drained but happy, comes shambling out to collapse in the living room with the look of a man who's just swam the English Channel. He won't let you and the others drag him back out, though, even after the sound of creaking mattress springs start echoing from the back of the trailer, and he instead starts texting around to invite more friends out. It'll give you and Caleb, he says, a chance to scope out some "maybes" for yourselves.<br/>
<br/>
At least he gives Andrew and Leslie a warning, though, and they are back in the living room when other kids from school start to show up.<br/>
<br/>
But you're not interested in looking them over, and follow Caleb out when he asks you for the grimoire so he can take it back to Bhodi. He also takes a couple of masks and brain-bands with him. Once you're on the road, you ask him who they are for.<br/>
<br/>
But his answer—if it really is an answer—is indirect. "Fuck me," he snorts, "but maybe we should give them to some more moms who want to be teenage girls again."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, yeah, I'd be up for that," you agree.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb gives you a sidelong look, as though weighing whether you are serious. "What was it like for you, knowing what she was doing back there with those guys?" he asks. "I mean, in the back, with ... um ..."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, pretty goddamn frustrating. Right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm talking about Dane's mom and what she was getting up to with the guys."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah I know."<br/>
<br/>
"And you wanted a piece of it?" Caleb asks. "Even though you're pretending to be her, uh, kid?"<br/>
<br/>
"What?" You wheel on him. "Oh, come on, man! That's not funny!"<br/>
<br/>
"So it wasn't weird for you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it might be if I was really Dane! But I'm not!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb stares at you. Then he snaps his fingers, "Oh, that's right. You don't have one of those, um—" He traces a line over his forehead. "So I guess it's not like you really feel like you're him."<br/>
<br/>
"No! I mean—! Oh, Jesus! That'd be pure squick if I did!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb smiles. "No," he coolly replies, "pure squick would be if his mom, looking like that girl, fucked <i>you</i> while you were looking like Dane."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, <i>Christ!"</i><br/>
<br/>
"So would you?" Caleb asks. "Fuck her, I mean? While done up like her kid?"<br/>
<br/>
You blanch, but don't answer. The fact is, you suspect you probably would crumble pretty quickly if tempted.<br/>
<br/>
"Did Ethan tell you what she says she's going to do?" Caleb then asks.<br/>
<br/>
"You mean there's more?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, more of the same. That's what Justin was telling me, just before we left. She told him that she wants to do it with all of us afterward, after we've all got, you know, new faces. She wants to fuck all of us inside our new faces. She's calling it her 'birthday present' to us."<br/>
<br/>
"No!" you gasp. "Are you fucking with me?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, but like I say, apparently that's what <i>she's</i> going to be doing. Fucking with us. Gonna do it with Grant even—with Kaylee, I mean—soon as they have a chance too."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's news leaves you with your jaw hanging open.<br/>
<br/>
And it also leaves you wondering if you shouldn't make a detour in your plans—get yourself a sophomore face so you can collect a "birthday present" before returning to your long-range plan.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213113112
author_id: seuzz
title: Lord of Discipline
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Almost you yield to immediate temptation: the faster you get yourself a sophomore identity, the faster you can get laid.<br/>
<br/>
But it's better to get your secret crime ring set up first, you remind yourself. Indeed (you reflect as you think through the future), once the guys have gotten you into a sophomore face, they'll be expecting you to be inside it, and that's not a location where you'll be able to get the rest of your ring set up.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Caleb drops the grimoire off at Bhodi's house, along with the masks and brain-bands he brought along. In exchange, he brings out two more brain-bands, which he passes along to you. Both of them have your names on them—they're the brain-bands that you lent to Bhodi and to his friend Joe.<br/>
<br/>
As for the items you dropped off, you ask Caleb what Bhodi is going to do with them.<br/>
<br/>
"For him and the rest of the gang," Caleb says as he pulls back into the street. "We might have to make some more," he adds with a sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"How many more people are going to be making these swaps?" you demand. It seems to you that you've made more than enough.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, there's me and you," Caleb says, ticking off his fingers. "Bhodi and his friend Joe. Paulina and Evie—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>"Paulina and Evie?"</i> you exclaim. "What the fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to mention that. Well, I only found out this morning. It turns out Paulina and Evie want to play too. Apparently, everyone's now into it except Lindsay."<br/>
<br/>
"Evie wants to—?" You are choking on the revelation. "After, um—?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb gives you a wry glance. "Yeah, I guess she didn't take any harm from it," he says with a tinge of sarcasm.<br/>
<br/>
You flush and slump in your seat. You should feel relief (you suppose) that she wasn't scarred for life by what you did to her. At the same time, it reinforces your decision to concentrate on your "crime ring." That will put some distance between you and a girl whose abduction you still feel guilty about.<br/>
<br/>
So after you return to Dane's trailer—where a full-blown party is apparently in progress—you sneak out again, taking the notebook and its newly copied sigils with you, along with two small tubs of sealant and a magical glue. <i>It's Mrs. Matthias's trailer,</i> you figure, <i>so she can decide when it's time for the party to end.</i><br/>
<br/>
You text Erik Carstairs from your car, asking him to meet you up at the high school.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The sun is lowering in the western sky after you have pulled Erik's mask off the football player and got it onto yourself. You have also attached one of the brain-bands copying your own mind and memories into the mask of Dane Matthias, and sealed it up with some of the golem-making paste, and that's the mask that you put onto Erik. The result is a "Dane Matthias" who's got your memories and personality, rather than Dane's. That will be good enough to keep "Dane" in circulation, you figure, and it will be a convincing fake for those (like Caleb) who assume that you are stuck playing the Danester for right now.<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty freaky news about Evie, huh?" the new Dane says after you've woken again and are pulling on Erik's clothes. You grunt. "Didn't see that coming, right?"<br/>
<br/>
You ignore him. "We're gonna have to hit the supply stores separately," you reply. "It's getting on closing time for most of them."<br/>
<br/>
"Do I need to go back to the trailer after that?" the fake asks. "Or can I spend the night with you?"<br/>
<br/>
"What are you, queer all of a sudden?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! I just meant— Uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"Listen, if I spend the night out, it's not gonna be anyplace you want to hang out at." You reach for the sketchbook and review the hints you scribbled down for the list of ingredients. "Meet me back up here," you tell the golem after giving it a shopping list. "Then we'll see."<br/>
<br/>
"You're gonna go out and get laid, aren't you?" the golem glumly replies.<br/>
<br/>
"If I want to." You pull a few twenties from your wallet, give them to the golem, then push it out of the car.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
In fact, it was Erik's plan to hit a night spot: The Warehouse. Last night was his night to work there, and tonight it was his plan to party there. <i>So much pussy to be plucked,</i> you think with a groan as you turn your car toward town. <i>So much hot, dripping, luscious pussy.</i> Erik's popular with the girls anyway, and the kind of girls who like going to the Warehouse are the kind who like the studs who manage and police it, and as far as anyone knows, Erik is the one who runs it, which means on work nights he can hardly finish a patrol without having one or more girls throw themselves across his path. <i>Come back tomorrow night,</i> he tells them. Then, with a firm but gentle grip (and a smirk) he pushes them aside.<br/>
<br/>
But you're got stuff to do first. Anyway, the fun never starts at the Warehouse before ten or even eleven, so you've got plenty of time to get the basics done.<br/>
<br/>
It takes you an hour to collect your part of the ingredients, and it's another half hour before the golem returns with his. So dusk is falling hard as you camp out in a dark corner of the Westside parking lot to fire a mask and make a brain-band. These you take back to Erik's house—Dane you order back home, there to "have as much fun" as it can—for some supplementary work. Out in the garage, you use Erik's dad's car buffer to polish the mask to a deep, glowing blue. But you toss the unfinished brain-band into the bedroom, to finish up tomorrow. Erik's dad—an ex-jock who empathizes with his son and encourages him in his training and his playing without inquiring too deeply into what he's doing—asks you if you plan on hitting a party. "Shower first, party after," you tell him as you saunter through the living room.<br/>
<br/>
<i>What's the difference between me and guys like Erik?</i> you ask yourself after you're washed and dressed. You are studying yourself in a full-length mirror. You're wearing fresh jeans and a white t-shirt under a large, crimson, billowing football jersey. The body in the mirror is strong, hard, and stacked with muscles; you can't stop a confident smirk from twisting itself onto your lips. <i>Was the difference always in the seed?</i> you wonder. <i>Or could "Will Prescott" have had that kind of reflection, even without the help of magic?</i><br/>
<br/>
But the difference, even if it wasn't there at birth or conception, goes a long way back. You liked playing sports in elementary school, but you weren't as good at them as kids like Erik were, so you didn't play them as much, and after years of discouragement you finally stopped, while kids like Erik just worked harder and harder at them. <br/>
<br/>
So was it that kids like Erik were just better at sports, so they liked sports better and played them more? Or did kids like him enjoy sports more than you did, so they played them more, and that's what made them better at it? <br/>
<br/>
You retreat into Erik's memories. School was never fun for him. His experience with math and science and English and the rest ... Well, it was like your experience with sports. They frustrated him, and he didn't have fun with them, and he felt more and more discouraged by them, until he finally just gave up and now skates through school with Cs and Ds. But recess ... P. E. class ... sports ... He always loved physical games, and through himself into them with everything he had.<br/>
<br/>
So now here he is. Or, rather, now <i>you</i> are, <i>being</i> him.<br/>
<br/>
And you wouldn't change anything about him.<br/>
<br/>
"See you in the morning," Mr. Carstairs says as you saunter back out to the garage.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's hardly any parking at the Warehouse, so you have to drive up to Eastman, where you'll meet friends to carpool out. Blake O'Brien ... James Bridges ... Scott Bickelmeir ... Cole Stanchik ... Most of the guys are waiting for you, and after you've collected them (and a few girls who've wandered over to blush and grin and flirt) you pack into the bed of Blake's truck for the drive out. You quickly have your arm around a blonde girl in a lacy white dress and cowboy boots, and lots of bare, tanned leg between the hem of one and the top of the others. She pretends to be mad at you, even as she snuggles up warmly in your embrace. "I shouldn't even be talking to you!" she pouts, but she has to put her mouth to your ear to make herself heard over the whine of the wind and the roar of the engine. "You're stealing our best players from us!"<br/>
<br/>
"What are you talking about?" You bury your nose in the side of her head, and keep it there, breathing in deeply the scent of her freshly washed hair.<br/>
<br/>
"Frank and Joe Durras!" she retorts.<br/>
<br/>
You grunt.<br/>
<br/>
That's a situation Erik has watched, so at least you're conversant with it. They're brothers, new to Saratoga Falls, and made a splash at Eastman High when they entered the school in September. But now, only a month later, they are transferring to Westside.<br/>
<br/>
But they're basketball players, not football players, so it's nothing to do with Erik, and even less to do with you.<br/>
<br/>
"So you go to Eastman, huh?" you tell the girl. It reminds you that you should give some thought to the "business opportunities" at the other high school.<br/>
<br/>
But first you need to decide on which teacher at Westside to "recruit" to your gang.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112131131121
author_id: seuzz
title: Grading the Teachers
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Mrs. Heaney."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, <i>fuck!</i>" Gary Chen snarls. "That old fat ass? Faugh! Only a fucking perv would—!"<br/>
<br/>
He raises a clenched fist. But you only have to wag a finger at him, and with a scowl he shrivels up.<br/>
<br/>
It's Sunday, and you're out at Hochstetter Park. This is another part of the city, like the Warehouse, where you normally wouldn't hang out. It's a tired, seedy old park near the industrial district, and the neighborhood isn't improved by the grim, sooty-brick visage of the Hochstetter All-Saints Hospital that looms nearby. But that makes it a good meeting place for you and Chen. You're not likely to run into anyone you know there, and if you do, they will be the kind of assholes who wouldn't be surprised to see Erik Carstairs and Gary Chen sharing a couple of beers and a smoke.<br/>
<br/>
It took some doing to get Chen to come out. When you texted him, he told you to fuck off. Even when you called him, he only snarled at you. So you had to text around to get an address for him, and had to show up at his house, before he would acknowledge you as his master and sullenly follow you out to Hochstetter, there to exchange notes about your school schedules.<br/>
<br/>
The goal, of course, is to find a teacher to add to your gang. You're not inclined to explain the plan to Chen—even as a golem, he's too much of a live wire to trust—so after settling onto the grass with some cheap brews and a pack of Marlboros, you asked him in that casual, lazy way that people have when they're talking bullshit with each other, which of the teachers at school he'd like to "body swap" with.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Th'fuck?</i> he retorted. <i>None of 'em!<br/>
<br/>
And then you could fuck up their lives,</i> you added, which at least caused him to freeze into a thoughtful silence.<br/>
<br/>
Then you asked him about various teachers and their desirability. <i>Would you fuck them?</i> (That would be the female teachers.) <i>Think you could get laid if you were them?</i> (That would be the male teachers.) <i>Whose life do you think it would be good to have? Which one would you fuck up if you could fuck them up from the inside?</i><br/>
<br/>
You asked the Chen-golem these questions because you didn't want to go through the bother of swapping out masks to find out what Chen <i>really</i> thinks or feels. <br/>
<br/>
He made some grudging confessions when you pressed him. He'd definitely fuck Ms. Cho and Ms. Simeon. Coach Schell, too. Ms. Willet, the art teacher. Mrs. Oliver, another math teacher like Ms. Simeon. Coach Acuna. Coach Puente, but only on account of her boobs and the hairy bush she's probably got. <i>Fuck,</i> he sighed at the end, <i>I'd probably do Ms. Meek, and she wouldn't have to beg me.</i> He was lying on his back by now, one leg crossed over an upraised knee, a cigarette dangling between his fingers as he blew a geyser of smoke at the sky. As for male teachers, he'd only allow that Mr. Hagerman, Mr. Montague, and Coach Gossett were likely getting some serious poontang, and he wasn't even sure about Mr. Montague. (<i>Dude's probably sucking dick,</i> he snorted.)<br/>
<br/>
This list mostly matched the instincts you are getting from Erik, though he'd add the tutor he works with (Ms. Welch) and Bruno Nathan, one of the assistant coaches.<br/>
<br/>
But then you laid these aside to concentrate on the most promising set of candidates—the teachers that Chen and Carstairs have for class. You started by going through Erik's schedule, beginning with his first-period Marriage and Family class.<br/>
<br/>
That is how you came to ask Chen his opinion of Mrs. Heaney.<br/>
<br/>
She is a lard-ass, you'd have to admit. She's middle-aged, too. But she's prettier than any of the other middle-aged teachers. Maybe on account of the fact that she <i>is</i> fat—the middle-aged female coaches, for instance, are gaunt and their skin is baggy, even if they are in shape. But Mrs. Heaney is also well-coiffed and always dresses very nice. And wouldn't a waddling, middle-aged, female Marriage and Parenting teacher be one of the least likely crime ... queen-pin imaginable?<br/>
<br/>
"Mr. Muniz," you offer next.<br/>
<br/>
"God <i>damn!</i>" Chen exclaims. "I hate that motherfucker! You know what he fucking did to me one time?" He sits up on one elbow and spins out an elaborate story, the point and horror of which you don't quite grasp, but which seems to have involved the math teacher telling Chen to more or less "grow up and fly right" if he ever wanted to make anything of himself. You can only suppose that Chen was deeply insulted by the talk.<br/>
<br/>
The golem has no opinion of Mr. Hummel, who teaches Erik's Woodworking class. You're intrigued by him, though. He's is a young guy, skinny, with a long, thin ponytail that trails all the way to the small of his back. He has a short beard and mustache, too. He's one of the "cool" teachers at the school, which would make him a natural to hang out with and maybe a fun guy to impersonate. But he's also too obvious a choice—the opposite of Mrs. Heaney—for he has dropped some pretty broad hints in front of his students that he has first-hand experience with weed.<br/>
<br/>
Much the same could be said of Bruno Nathan, the assistant coach. He's also young—just out of a college—with a strong body and handsome face. Though he'd look natural hanging out with Erik outside of school, he also looks too irresponsible.<br/>
<br/>
As for the others, Chen concurs with your assessment that Mrs. Gladstone is "a dog," and the thought of impersonating fat, grouchy Mr. Walberg leaves you retching. Coach Porter, who runs the football program, would be at least as plausible as Mrs. Heaney, but he's in his fifties and has had some health issues.<br/>
<br/>
So next you ask Chen to list his teachers. With a sigh, he quickly rattles off names and opinions.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Mrs. Gladstone?</i> "Woof." <i>Coach Gellman?</i> He howls like a wolf in pain. <i>Mr. Peters?</i> "Oh, Je-<i>sus!</i>" Mrs. Heinz? "Bleugh-eugh-eugh-eugh-eugh-eugh!" <i>Mr. Muniz?</i> "I told you all about that fucker." <i>Mrs. Gambetta?</i><br/>
<br/>
He pauses and stares at the sky, his jaw working. "I'd do her," he allows.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Where the fuck you been all afternoon?" Roy Nelson mutters when you come swaggering into the Warehouse an hour later. He glares up from under his brows, but remains bent over the mop he's using to clean the floor of the barroom.<br/>
<br/>
"Boss man don't have to do no work," his friend Dominic mutters.<br/>
<br/>
Well, you <i>are</i> late. And Erik Carstairs doesn't usually set this bad of an example. Normally he's the first to arrive on Sundays, which is the day the crew spends cleaning up from the weekend.<br/>
<br/>
You answer by grabbing Roy's mop from him and jabbing him in the gut with the hard end. He falls back with a gasp and a grunt, and for a moment it looks like he's going to rush you. But you plunge the mop into the water bucket and slop it around the floor while holding his eye, and he backs off. "Go see if Cantu needs any help with the shit upstairs," you tell him. "At least go find some other way of fucking off," you add when Roy's lip curves in disgust. He wheels and stalks off, leaving you with Dominic.<br/>
<br/>
You work hard for the next few hours, mopping the floors, wiping the tables, mucking out the toilets. In ones and twos the various vendors—the guys who sell beer, whiskey, snacks, and weed—drift in to collect their cut of the nightly receipts. When they've all arrived, you take Blake and Ryder Hillberger—the junior quarterback who Erik is training to take over management of the Warehouse next year—into the back storeroom where you count up the unsold items, calculate the amount of each kind of item sold, then bring the vendors in one at a time to settle accounts, paying them out of the cash receipts they collected on Friday and Saturday night, less the amount they ask you to use to replenish stocks for the upcoming weekend. What is left—several thousand dollars—you lock up in a metal briefcase. Blake and Ryder give you a funny look, but don't say anything when you take it with you when you leave. (It would have been Dwayne Macaulay's job to come around and collect it.) You take it home—to Erik's—and tuck into the back of the closet.<br/>
<br/>
You are tired and filthy from the afternoon's work, and but at least you've shaken off the hangover from Saturday night's bacchanalia—during which you screwed that Eastman girl, and one of her friends—and wash it all off in a shower. Then, again in clean clothes, you lock yourself in the bedroom to finish the brain band.<br/>
<br/>
It and the mask you will use on a teacher tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
You did wind up spending an hour inside Chen's mask, nursing his anger and insecurities as you chain-smoked, but gleaned only two useful insights: Mrs. Gambetta is the one teacher he has that he wouldn't mind fucking, and Mr. Muniz is the one teacher he would definitely like to fuck over. Indeed, the thought of turning the sanctimonious math teacher into a drug distributor gave you a stiffer hard-on the thought of ramming your dick into Mrs. Gambetta.<br/>
<br/>
But when you go to bed, you still haven't culled your list of possible acquisitions any further down than five. Not until the next morning, after sleeping on it, do you feel a strong instinct to choose:</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132
author_id: seuzz
title: The Copyist
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You only had a single beer at the Warehouse, but you feel hung over the next morning. <i>It must have been that fantasy I had last night, about becoming a drug-dealing, shapeshifting criminal mastermind,</i> you blearily decide after showering and studying yourself in the mirror. Maybe you dreamed about it all night, and it exhausted you.<br/>
<br/>
Whatever the truth, you feel like you've bled the temptation from your system. You tear Macaulay's brain band from your forehead, and toss it, his phone, and his pistol into the motel dumpster. <br/>
<br/>
Then you call Caleb on the room's landline. "Yeah," he honks when he picks up.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey man, it's me, Will."<br/>
<br/>
"Which one?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whaddaya mean, which—?" <i>Oh, right. Gordon's out there also pretending to be you.</i> "The <i>real</i> one, asshole. Are you going in to school today?" The clock reads seven-thirty.<br/>
<br/>
"I am. Maybe you wanna ask the other guy what he's doing?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck,</i> you mutter when another penny drops. "Which one are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"The real one, of course. Hey! Hang on, Will, I gotta—!" There's a lot of cursing, and a "Give me that!" before he comes back on. "Yo, who's this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who do you think it is, motherfucker? And which one are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Will?"<br/>
<br/>
"What the fuck's going on there?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm taking my golem to school. Actually, I'm in the back seat, and he's driving us to school. Then I'm gonna take the car and— Where are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"The Donna Courts, down on south Twentieth."<br/>
<br/>
"You spend the night there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Where else would I spend the night?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, there's the Marriott up by the mall, and—"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up. Just come get me. I'll pay for your breakfast."<br/>
<br/>
"I already ate, but I'm part hobbit and'll take a second breakfast if you're springing for it."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
If Caleb is part hobbit, he's tallest and gangliest part-hobbit ever, and he follows you into the Sunshine Diner on loping legs. His laugh is like a hiss as you tell him about running into Kim Walsh. "You have any idea what Gordon could'a done with her Saturday?" you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
"Not a clue. Speaking of which, you decide what to do about him?" He signals a waitress.<br/>
<br/>
"Leave him like he is. We can always change things back later."<br/>
<br/>
"And Dane?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dane's exactly the sort to go around tell everyone he got swapped into Gordon Black's body. We don't need that."<br/>
<br/>
"His mom wants him back," Caleb says after the waitress has taken your orders and departed. "And Lindsay wants everything back to normal."<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay can go sit on her own face." You wonder if some of Dwayne's brain has stuck to yours, like lint.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb sucks on a tooth. "That's a pretty vivid picture. But you know, if we're going to leave Gordon and Dane where they are— And if we're gonna make it look like things are back to normal—" He shrugs. "Looks like you're gonna be stuck playing Dane."<br/>
<br/>
His words send you briefly reeling back into that fantasy. But you quickly shake it off. "It doesn't have to be <i>me</i> who plays Dane," you retort. "Could be <i>you.</i> Or Joe or Grant or one of them," you add when Caleb makes a face.<br/>
<br/>
"So, I get to be Dane," he says, "and you get to be me? Or Grant gets to be Dane and you get to be Grant?" He shakes his head. "You saw their faces last night. None of them is gonna want to trade for Dane Matthias when they can be ... Well, whoever else is out there." His brow furrows.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, you remember the excitement Caleb caused when he told them about the new spell. And it wasn't just the guys who got excited, either. "What do you we do about Mrs. Matthias?" you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb chews his thumbnail, and doesn't say anything until after the waitress has brought you your food. Even then, he's wolfed down his eggs and half his pancakes before speaking.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll go out and talk to her today," he says. "Find out what she wants, what she'll settle for. For herself. For Dane."<br/>
<br/>
You catch the pronoun he used. "You'll go? Am I supposed to go with you?"<br/>
<br/>
He hesitates, then shakes his head. "No offense, Will, but I think I'm a better negotiator. Besides, I got a job for you, keep you busy today."<br/>
<br/>
You groan when he tells it to you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Ninety minutes later, after an extended shopping trip, Caleb drops you off at the Donna Courts with bags of supplies and the grimoire. Bhodi passed it along to him last night, and you've got the use of it until this evening to make a bunch of masks; after that, it will have to go back to Bhodi so he can give it to Lindsay. Caleb promises to come help you after he's talked to Mrs. Matthias.<br/>
<br/>
But you've made no progress when he knocks on your door at a little after eleven. "Christ!"  he exclaims when he sees the unopened packages that you and he spent hundreds of dollars buying. "When were you gonna get started?"<br/>
<br/>
"I had a better idea," you tell him, and toss the sketchpad at him. He catches it and frowns at the complex design that swirls across one of the pages. "I figure we could just make a copy of the book. That way we could use it anytime we want, even after we give the original to Lindsay."<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a critical stare. "This is one of the sigils?" he asks. You nod. "And it works?" You flip him the brain band that you made with it. "Are you gonna be able to copy everything out? I mean, these things—" He taps the sigil that you copied. "They're pretty damn complicated, aren't they?"<br/>
<br/>
Yes, they are, and you were yourself very surprised at how fluidly the first one flowed out from the pen. But when you compared your free-hand copy to the original, you could hardly tell the difference. "Well, I'm still gonna make some masks up," Caleb grunts. "Just to make sure that you're doing it right." He settles into a chair while you huddle up on the bed with the sketchpad. As you work, he tells you of his interview with Mrs. Matthias.<br/>
<br/>
It was rough. She was stone-cold sober, and seemed paranoid. She wanted a new body—a second chance on life—and was convinced that Caleb and his friends were going to run off with the grimoire and leave her behind. As for <i>who</i> she wanted to be, well, she didn't know, obviously. She'd have to look over the possibilities. Someone would have to help her with that. Someone should bring her a school yearbook, or a bunch of links to Facebook profiles so she could pick someone.<br/>
<br/>
At least there was some good news to come out of it: She turned out to be a little more flexible about Dane. Caleb showed her pictures of Gordon Black, telling her that was who her son was pretending to be. She seemed impressed. But she still wanted you all to tell Dane about the masks. "She said it's okay for him to stay as Gordon," Caleb tells you, "as long as he knows what's going on. But I talked her out of that." <i>How?</i> Caleb's mouth twists into a satirical smile. "I told her we were going to turn her into a high school girl. I asked her how her son was going to handle it, if he looked at a cheerleader and knew it was really his mother. That shut her up." He stretches. "So I think we're in the clear on leaving Dane the way he is. Except, someone who <i>looks</i> like Dane probably needs to come back."<br/>
<br/>
You agree. If you're not going to be Dane, you'll have to turn yourself into someone else. And where would you put that other person after you take over their life? Dane's mask is the obvious hiding place.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
By four o'clock, when Caleb returns to the school with the grimoire, you have copied out the sigils for all the spells you have so far unlocked. Caleb has also used them to make some tubs of sealant and glue, and enough masks and brain bands to give you a total of twenty of each. He has also polished up two of the former and carved runes into one of the latter.<br/>
<br/>
Voices herald his return; still, you jump when a hard fist hammers at the motel room door. Grant Lowery and Joe Dickerson are with him, and they push you aside as they tumble into the room. "Whoa!" Grant exclaims as he surveys a bed covered in masks. "It's like a factory in here!"<br/>
<br/>
"You got enough for all of us?" Joe asks. Where Grant surveys the masks with a bright, eager smile, Joe frowns at them.<br/>
<br/>
"Enough for you guys, and me and Caleb. Plus some spares."<br/>
<br/>
"And you made a copy of the book, too!" Grant says. "That's what Caleb says. So if we wind up changing our minds and want to switch with someone else instead—"<br/>
<br/>
You catch Caleb's warning look, and bite your tongue. "I guess," you mumble. "But you wanna get it right the first time."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, sure," Grant says. "But come on, we're all meeting out at Justin's, gonna talk about who we're gonna be." He hops on the balls of his feet.<br/>
<br/>
You tense all over, and make a point of locking all the masks and supplies and whatnot away before accompanying them out. Grant has ridden with Joe, but Caleb has his own car, and you ride out with him.<br/>
<br/>
"You know," he observes on the drive, "you can keep living in motel rooms if you want. But at school Kim was asking, uh, <i>you</i> how long you were gonna be staying at the Donna."<br/>
<br/>
"No! What did he say?"<br/>
<br/>
"He said he didn't know what she was talking about. Anyway, before things get too awkward, you should figure out where you're going to go. By which I mean," he adds, "who you're going to be."<br/>
<br/>
But it's not that simple. You should probably use your new ID to keep an eye on people. On Grant and his friends. On Mrs. Matthias. On Lindsay.<br/>
<br/>
Or maybe you should forget about them and stay in the senior class with Caleb.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121321
author_id: rugal
title: Boys Will Be Boys... and Girls
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You never really get out to the southwestern side of town, out where Justin Orr lives. The neighborhood it sits in seems, at first glance, to be almost picturesque and stereotypically Americana; like something out of a TV show from the fifties. But looks, as you perhaps know all too well by now, can be deceiving. Because upon further viewing "quaint and cozy" instead turns out to be cramped. Those sidewalks look like they've seen better days. The lawns range from "barely maintained" to "overgrown". The houses themselves are, instead of a brilliant white, dulled and weathered.<br/>
<br/>
It's into one of these depressing little houses that you step, greeted by Andy Jensen (or is it?) who lead you through the living room and down a small hallway.<br/>
<br/>
"Good thing we avoided your mom, huh?" Joe whispers to Andy.<br/>
<br/>
Andy, in response, snickers. "That's Justin's mom, you idiot," he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"That's—" Grant starts but then stops, grins, and reaches for Andy's face. "I'm gonna rip that off of—"<br/>
<br/>
"Knock it off!" Caleb states "We don't really care about—"<br/>
<br/>
"What's the problem?" Justin's face pokes out from a door at the end of the hall and his eyes go wide. "Shit, you're here already!"<br/>
<br/>
"We're here and we totally could've fooled Justin's mom!" says Grant excitedly as he leads everyone into Justin's room, a thing as tiny and cramped as the rest of the house, covered in discarded clothes and the musky odor of a teenage boy who likely engages in the type of teenage boy activities that would produce something like that.<br/>
<br/>
Andy tackles him onto the bed. "Yeah, we definitely could've fooled <i>your</i> mom, Justin!" he proclaims.<br/>
<br/>
The boys begin jostling for position, each trying to get spot on the bed, before you've had enough. You let out a sharp "hey" and Caleb seems to have felt the same for he claps, loudly, in an attempt to get their attention. This is exactly the kind of horseshit that you were afraid of from these goofs. You realize that it's the kind of horseshit you were afraid of because they remind you a lot of you and your friends and look how that ended up? Left to their own devices, it'd probably end up even worse. That means that you need to start nipping things in the bud and imposing a sense of order.<br/>
<br/>
"First thing's first," you say once you and Caleb have found some areas to stand, "I want anyone in a mask out of it." That causes a few glances around and you grunt. "Now," you say calmly but sternly. "This doesn't go any further until everyone is themselves."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It turns out that only Justin and Andy were swapped with one another while Grant and Joe are the real deals, which is at least a small relief since it keeps things slightly easier. Not much is said between any of you while waiting for the two swapped boys to wake up. Something catches your attention while you wait but you hold off on saying anything for the moment. Instead, you hold court once everyone has come to.<br/>
<br/>
"So, you guys are going to be making some swaps, right? That's what I heard."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah we were thinking of—"<br/>
<br/>
"Getting some nice boobs!" Grant exclaims with a giggle, cutting off Joe.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, <i>you</i> are because—"<br/>
<br/>
"Guys!" you cut in before Andy has the chance to finish his sentence. "One at a time or I'll shut this whole thing down."<br/>
<br/>
Andy's eyes go wide. "How would you—"<br/>
<br/>
"We'll talk to Lindsay," Caleb states. "I'm sure she'd be glad to know."<br/>
<br/>
That produces a collective gulp as all four look at one another. But that seems to do the trick for they're all quiet now. "You're all switching but I noticed that someone's missing. Where's Bhodi?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
There's a hesitation and it's Joe who eventually speaks. "He's, uh, not participating," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Does he know about what you're doing?"<br/>
<br/>
Joe nods. "Yeah but, you know, him and Paulina are practically glued to one another now so he said he doesn't have any interest."<br/>
<br/>
"What about her? And the other girls?"<br/>
<br/>
"Except Lindsay, right?" Grant asks and you shoot him a glare at his smarmy response.<br/>
<br/>
"They don't know," Justin states. "I mean if we told 'em, it'd probably get back to Lindsay and you know she's not going to go for it. Otherwise you wouldn't have threatened to tell her."<br/>
<br/>
He glances at Caleb who simply shrugs. "So you guys are doing this behind their backs? And Bhodi's keeping Paulina in the dark?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's the idea," says Justin.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, so then who are you all intending to replace?" you ask. You point a finger at Joe. "You first."<br/>
<br/>
"Me? Uh, Alejandra Roldan Cortes," he says with some hesitation. That causes eyebrows to go up.<br/>
<br/>
"Told ya it was about boobs!" laughs Grant.<br/>
<br/>
"Shut the fuck up," Joe growls. "I'm doing it 'cause she's on the JV soccer team with Evie."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're doing it to help Evie?" you ask which gets a nod. "And how do you plan on getting her?"<br/>
<br/>
"How do I—?" he starts. "I dunno, I guess I haven't thought about it. She's a junior, too, so..."<br/>
<br/>
"It'll be even harder then. Okay, you," you point to Justin, "you're up next."<br/>
<br/>
"Ethan Clayborne," Justin says quietly. "He's on the wrestling team."<br/>
<br/>
"Chicks dig him," Grant says. "That's why you want him, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"And who do <i>you</i> want?" asks Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"Kaylee Mercier," he says with no hesitation.<br/>
<br/>
"Why? So you can suck off Justin when he's in his mask?" jeers Andy.<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft, yeah right! Kaylee's hot, man! She's on the track team, too, so she's got that really tight physique and... oh god!" You half-expect Grant to cum right there.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess that just leaves me," Andy says. "Anyway, I'm going with Andrew Webb. He's on the soccer team."<br/>
<br/>
It takes a moment but the name comes back to you as the guy who gave you shit when you'd replaced Bhodi. So he's probably trying to help out Bhodi, same as you suspect Joe is trying to help out Evie. But a question still remains. "Okay, same question I posed to Justin: how are you getting him? How are any of you getting your targets?"<br/>
<br/>
That produces nothing but murmurs and stares. Caleb groans and rubs his temples. "This is not gonna work," he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"Not if we leave them to their own devices," you say. "That's why we should stick around them. The girls aren't really anything to worry about but these chucklefucks..."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I getcha," he responds. "So how are we gonna do that?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You spend some time talking to everyone and working out what will be done. The first thing, you realize, is to get you and possibly Caleb into identities first. From there, they'll act as a springboard from which you can then help the boys get into their identities as well. The question then becomes, though, who you'll actually become. There are some people — the super popular types like James Randolph or Courtney Blessing for example — that the boys wouldn't be able to get to in a million years.<br/>
<br/>
So you decide to take things step-by-step. First, they'll help set you up in a new identity that they say, theoretically at least, they should be able to get; hopefully by the end of school tomorrow. Once you're in, you can then find a spot for Caleb. Once you both are set, then it's using your positions to set things up to facilitate everyone else's moves. But who should it be for you? The boys pull up different social media sites — Facebook and Instagram and x2z and such — on their phones as different names come up.<br/>
<br/>
Top of the list is Julie Eckler. From how the others describe her, you want to view her as a sophomore version of Kim Walsh: a smart, nosy, and ambitious mover and shaker. The type of person who could get in anywhere. "But she's not really that hot, huh? Not as hot as Kaylee," says Grant. And it's true that while not ugly, she's rather plain and unfashionable. But Joe is quick to point out that she's still well-liked.<br/>
<br/>
The next name that gets brought up is Riley Petersen. Justin shows you a picture of a pretty, but unpretentious girl. You're told that she's very friendly and well liked but a lot of people. But that could also make her a little harder to get to because "she might have commitments already."<br/>
<br/>
After some more discussion, you're shown Heaven Granberry. She's a girl with dark hair that's long in some pictures and tied up in others. She's on the swim team and her body, tall and slender, looks made for gliding through the water. She has a bright smile and you're told that she's very friendly and low key popular. But some of the boys share classes with her and she's always nice to them which makes her seem like an easy target.<br/>
<br/>
Andy next shows you a girl named Candice Lauer. She's a new student, still feeling her way and hasn't settled into any sort of group yet. Andy's talked to her a few times and she's friendly enough and talks with plenty of people. Caleb points out that all means she'd probably be good and you notice Joe shift uncomfortably at that. Justin pulls you aside later to tell you that Joe has a bit of a thing for her. "She's cute and he thinks he can impress her because she's new," he says.<br/>
<br/>
The last person, after much debate, is Jody Lepley. She's a girl with a natural prettiness and wild hair that falls in thick, tight curls. She's got a bass in a lot of pictures and the guys point out that she plays in a band. "She's really cool, actually. And she talks to us," Joe says.<br/>
<br/>
"We all kinda wanna fuck her," Andy smirks. "I mean c'mon, it's true!" he exclaims defensively when everyone's attention turns to him.<br/>
<br/>
"All girls?" you ask somewhat incredulous.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry, man," says Joe. "But most of the guys we know aren't in any better of a position than us. So it wouldn't really help, right?"<br/>
<br/>
If that's true, then he does have a point. So with that done, you debate a little more and finally decide on who you want to be. You break for the day, hoping that by this time tomorrow you'll have started settling into being...<span class="O"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121322
author_id: seuzz
title: The Boys' Choices
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Justin Orr lives in largish house in the southwest part of town, not far from the river. At first glance, it looks like the set for a cozy, old-style family-TV sitcom: white, clapboard siding; square windows under a steeply pitched roof; white rails framing a small porch; and the whole thing set back from the street behind a narrow yard and sidewalk.<br/>
<br/>
But the neighborhood is cramped and shabby; the sidewalk is spiderwebbed with cracks; weeds infect the lawn; and the front of the house, on closer inspection, is faintly smeared with grime and mildew.<br/>
<br/>
Andy Jensen has beat you there, and he's the one who lets you in. But is it Andy? Your eyes narrow at the stiff and self-conscious way he introduces you all to a small, dark-haired woman as "friends of Justin's."<br/>
<br/>
You're not the only one with suspicions. "Jeez, dude," Joe mutters as maybe-Andy leads you all up a narrow staircase. "You think your mom cares who we are?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's not my mom," maybe-Andy retorts. "She's Justin's mom."<br/>
<br/>
"Bullshit," Grant laughs, and he grabs maybe-Andy from behind. "I'll hold the bastard down, one of you get the mask—"<br/>
<br/>
"Cut it out," Caleb snaps. "Let's just— Where are we going?" A door at the end of the hall opens, and Justin Orr (or is it?) peeps out. His eyes are wide with worry, and his chronic acne is flushing very red.<br/>
<br/>
Grant chortles at maybe-Andy. "Yeah you can fool your mom," he says as he struts on ahead. "But remember, we're pros."<br/>
<br/>
This is exactly the kind of horseplay that's got you worried about giving these guys advanced masks; and if you weren't more worried about Lindsay and her friends, you'd pick an identity that would let you keep a close watch on them.<br/>
<br/>
Justin's bedroom is small and narrow—more like a large walk-in closet than a proper bedroom—and the floor is layered with discarded shirts and trousers; a musty odor of unwashed clothes and unwashed bodies rises off them. Between the bed, the dresser, and a computer desk and chair, there is hardly space for one person to turn around, let alone the six high school boys who have bundled into it. There's a lot of muffled cursing as the sophomores tumble over each other and fight for space on the bed. Caleb props himself against the corner of the desk; you squeeze yourself onto the narrow window ledge.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, so me and Will spent the day making up a bunch of masks," Caleb starts. But he stops and frowns as Grant shoves Joe, who in turn knocks maybe-Justin off the bed.<br/>
<br/>
"Hold it," you say. "Where's Bhodi?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's not coming," says Grant. He grabs maybe-Andy by the neck and forces him over.<br/>
<br/>
"He's not doing the thing with us," says maybe-Justin as he clambers back atop a yelping Joe. His crusted-over zits shine very whitely amidst his flushing acne. "Him are Paulina are, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I get it." You don't need a portrait of the newly emboldened Bhodi getting serious with Paulina.<br/>
<br/>
"But I guess you guys <i>do</i> wanna do the thing," Caleb says. "Unless you just wanna keep getting queer with each other," he loudly adds as maybe-Andy pounds Grant in the nuts.<br/>
<br/>
"No one's getting queer with—!" Grant blocks another blow from maybe-Andy. "Quit it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Christ," Caleb snorts at you. "Let's just give the masks to Lindsay. These guys are gonna fuck everything up."<br/>
<br/>
"We're not gonna fuck anything up!" Grant hollers, even as he grabs Joe by the head and tries sitting on him.<br/>
<br/>
But they all freeze in place, at your next words. "Just tell us who you want to be," you demand. "You thought about it, last night and today, didn't you, who you want to turn yourselves into," you continue as they remain struck as still and silent as statues. "'Cos I don't wanna waste my—"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, Will, that's enough," Caleb says. "Well?" he asks the sophomores.<br/>
<br/>
They hang their heads, and look very shifty, until maybe-Andy scratches his nose and raises his hand. "Yeah, I picked someone."<br/>
<br/>
"Grant did too," Joe interrupts. "Kaylee Mercier."<br/>
<br/>
"You wanted her too, man!"<br/>
<br/>
"Did not!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb looses a shrill whistle. "I don't care who picked who," he brays at them. "I don't even know these people, so I don't give a shit. You." He points at maybe-Andy. "Is that your face or are you wearing a fucking mask?"<br/>
<br/>
Maybe-Andy looks at maybe-Justin, then shrugs. He puts a hand to his brow.<br/>
<br/>
"No, leave it on," Caleb orders. "Yeah, okay, you say you picked someone. Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ethan Clayborne," not-Andy murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
"Gay," Grant sniggers. "I'm kidding!" he cries when not-Andy slaps him on the head.<br/>
<br/>
"And who did you pick?" Caleb asks him.<br/>
<br/>
"Kaylee Mercier." Grant grins and fondles an imaginary set of boobs "Nothing gay about wanting tits."<br/>
<br/>
"She likes to suck cock," not-Justin says. "So that means <i>you'll</i>—"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up," Caleb tells him. "What about you, er, Andy? Who do you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Andrew Webb." Not-Justin darts a glance about the room from under lowered brows.<br/>
<br/>
"And you?" Caleb jerks his chin at Joe.<br/>
<br/>
"Alejandra Roldan Cortes."<br/>
<br/>
Grant giggles. "Only 'cos you like saying her name."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm gonna throw you out the window in a minute," Caleb warns him. "Like I said, I don't give a shit who you pick. But are you gonna be able to get close to these people, to copy and replace them?"<br/>
<br/>
A silence falls over the room. "Like how?" Grant finally asks.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Can you believe these morons?</i> Caleb asks you with his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Like, you're going to have to get them by themselves," you explain to the silent group. "You're going to have to get these guys alone, so it's just you and them. You have to get them alone, so you can put a mask onto them. And change clothes with them. And put their mask onto yourself, to turn yourself into them. That's what you're gonna have to do," you repeat into the deathly quiet. "You have to get them by themselves, so you can replace them." <i>Like I did with Evie and Bhodi,</i> you add silently.<br/>
<br/>
"So can you?" Caleb asks. In answer, four faces fall. "Oh, Jesus," he groans.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, let's do it like this," you say. "Joe." You snap your fingers at him, and he sits up alertly. "You and me and Caleb are gonna go off and talk about this, just us."<br/>
<br/>
"Why him? Why alone?" Grant demands.<br/>
<br/>
"Because you all wind up acting like a bunch of dipshits when you're together. We'll talk to Joe about how maybe you can get to these people. The rest of you, stay here and talk about <i>other</i> people maybe you can be. People you can get to, if you can't get to these others. And for God's sake," you add as maybe-Justin falls off the bed again, "get out of those masks. This is serious business, not a lot of pranking."<br/>
<br/>
Not-Andy and not-Justin look properly abashed. But Grant giggles with shining eyes.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Justin's back yard slopes down to a narrow creek bed that's cloaked and muffled with bushes and drooping trees, so that's where you and Caleb and Joe settle down to talk. "Okay, first of all," you tell the sophomore, "who are these people that you guys picked, and why'd you pick them?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I picked Alejandra," Joe says with folded hands, "on account of Evie. She's on the soccer team with Evie. She's a junior, actually, which, um—" He sucks in his upper lip. "Which makes it hard to get to her."<br/>
<br/>
"Why is this on account of Evie?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because Alejandra kind of makes things hard for Evie? So I figured, you know, if I, uh—" His blushes. "Became her." He swallows. "Well, then I could make things easier for her."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. That girl Grant picked, is she on the soccer team too?"<br/>
<br/>
He snorts. "No, she's just popular. Though I guess he could, uh, use her popularity to make Evie popular."<br/>
<br/>
As for Andy's and Justin's choices: Ethan Clayborne is on the wrestling squad, and Andrew Webb is on the boys' soccer team. You are able to place Webb's name after Joe tells you a little about him: He's the pink-skinned bully you got into a fight with on the day you impersonated Bhodi. Andy, you guess, picked him for the same reason Joe picked Alejandra: By becoming one of Bhodi's bete-noirs, he can maybe make Bhodi's life easier. Clayborne, meanwhile, is probably the best all-around athlete in the sophomore class, and the object of major crushes by all the girls, which is surely why Justin picked him.<br/>
<br/>
But none of the four will be easy to get to, for they move in different, and more exalted, social circles than the sophomores who intend to replace them. "Thing is," Joe insists, "if we could just get to <i>one</i> of them we could probably get close to the others."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shakes his head at that, but you open up to Joe with your own thinking.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe I can help," you tell him. "I'm gonna be doing my own impersonating. Someone close to Lindsay and the girls. I wanna keep an eye on them," you explain as Joe's eyes get very wide. "To protect you guys by making sure they don't figure out what you're up to. So. Can you think of someone who could do that? Someone who could watch Lindsay but also help you guys get at the people you want?"<br/>
<br/>
Joe hunches his shoulders. His voice is a croak when he finally speaks again.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," he says, "there's Lucy Gibbon. Paulina's, like, got a crush on her or something. And I think Lindsay's got a crush on Bradley White. He's one of Ethan's best friends, so that would help there. Uh, you're not thinking about, uh, turning yourself into—" He licks his lips. "Into Paulina, are you? Or Melanie?" His breathing becomes labored. "Though Melanie'd be <i>perfect."</i><br/>
<br/>
Yes, Melanie Heath, who knows about you and the masks and what you did to Evie, would be perfect cover to spy on Lindsay from.<br/>
<br/>
Come to that, Lindsay herself would be perfect cover.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213222
author_id: seuzz
title: A Snow Job?
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Yes, the perfect place to spy on Lindsay would be ... as Lindsay herself. And the second-best place to spy on her would be as either her friends Melanie Heath or Paulina Nowack.<br/>
<br/>
But you doubt if Bhodi and his friends would like it if you made yourself a replacement for any of them. Paulina not of all, and probably not for the other girls—even if Joe has suggested Melanie, and even if all the boys are eager to get out from under Lindsay's dominating thumb.<br/>
<br/>
So you ask Joe to describe the other two.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, Lucy's kind of a delinquent, kind of a—"<br/>
<br/>
"Next," you snap. After spending a week as Dwayne Macaulay, you've had your fill of thugs.<br/>
<br/>
Joe blinks. "Okay, who did I say? Bradley White? Okay, um, he's a friend of Ethan Clayborne, so that'd be convenient there. And like I say, Lindsay has a crush on him."<br/>
<br/>
"Does he know that?"<br/>
<br/>
Joe blinks again. "I don't know. But <i>you'd</i> know it if you, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"You have a picture of this guy on your phone?"<br/>
<br/>
Joe looks both insulted and disgusted, but you badger him into looking online for a photograph. After some thought, he thumbs his way across his cell phone screen to a web page. "This is him," he says as he blows up a thumbnail and hands the phone to you.<br/>
<br/>
He's a good-looking kid, you'd have to confess, though far from scary handsome. Just ... normal and regular and fresh-faced. Kind of rabbity, maybe. His eyes cast a shy, furtive shadow over his wide smile, as though he's both pleased and embarrassed at being photographed. His hair is a blonde mop that hangs past his eyebrows in front and curls over his ear lobes and the back of his head. It has weird curves in it, too, that faintly repel you, until you realize it's "hat hair." He probably keeps it locked under a ball cap most of the time, the way you do. But you wouldn't be displeased to have a face like his, even if his physique is a little scrawny—<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, he looks just like you," Caleb mutters over your shoulder. You start at his words.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Caleb continues. "Except he's knows how to shave. And to wash his face. Better smile, like he remembers to brush his tee— Oof!" He edges away before you can elbow him in the stomach again.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's the deal with the snowboard?" you ask, for Bradley White is posing with one.<br/>
<br/>
"That's what he's in to," Joe says. "Competitive snowboarding. I guess he's pretty good. I've heard he is." He takes the phone back. "That was the website for the club or whatever it is he belongs to, where I found that picture."<br/>
<br/>
Snowboarding sounds cool—at least it's not a PE-type sport—so you tell Joe that you'll take him.<br/>
<br/>
"Awesome!" he says, sounding relieved. "That'll really help—" He swallows. "And Bhodi knows him pretty good. They played soccer last year, on the freshman team, so Bhodi can probably talk him into—" Again, he swallows. <br/>
<br/>
Caleb catches your eye: it's pretty obvious that Joe hasn't come around totally yet to the idea of <i>kidnapping and replacing</i> some of his schoolmates.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Neither you nor Caleb talk much on the drive back to the Donna. Whatever is preoccupying Caleb, he keeps it to himself. As for you, though—<br/>
<br/>
You're about to embark on a new life, and the realization of it is hitting you hard and sinking in fast. Of course, Bradley White will not be the first impersonation you have undertaken. It's more like the ... you count up names on your fingers ... fifth? Sixth? You're sure you're forgetting someone, but it's been a crowded few weeks. But most of those impersonations, like Dwayne Macaulay's, were strictly temporary. And even when you were thought you were making a permanent switch—like with Bhodi—you had it in the back of your mind that you might go back to being yourself, once all the heat around Gordon and Chen and Dane had died down.<br/>
<br/>
But your old life has changed too much for you to feel comfortable returning to it. So <i>this</i> switch ... This one is going to be for keeps, maybe for the rest of your life. Your stomach twists up hard.<br/>
<br/>
It's like when you moved up into middle school from elementary school, and from middle school into high school. Both times, on about your third day in the new building, jostling with the new teachers and students and routine as you tried to find your footing, you had a vivid fantasy about the new school only being a temporary thing. That in a day or two you'd be able to leave and go back to your old school and your old teachers and old friends, and everything would be just like it was before summer vacation. You'd have your old locker and your old classroom with the old smells, and it would be like you had never gone away.<br/>
<br/>
And that fantasy made it even harder—it almost made you sick with nostalgia and hatred for the new school—to face up to the fact that things were going to be different from now on. That <i>this</i> was the way your life was going to be. You felt so repulsed by the new school that you actually felt repulsed by yourself, as if your new life was so different that you weren't even <i>you</i> anymore, but were someone else. <br/>
<br/>
<i>This isn't my school, and these aren't my teachers, and I'm not a person who should be here.<br/>
<br/>
So that means I'm not me anymore.</i><br/>
<br/>
It gives you now that same sick, queasy feeling now as you had then. It's like your intestines have twisted up into a fist and are pressing themselves deep into your diaphragm.<br/>
<br/>
You shiver hard all over, and hunch up in your seat. If Caleb notices, he doesn't say anything.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
At the Donna you straighten up the room while Caleb works on finishing up a mask and brain band. You talk about how you're going to accomplish the upcoming switch, and then you take over for Caleb while he runs home and then over to Dane Matthias's trailer to get the stuff you'll need to take care of Bradley. He's still out doing that when you get a text from Bhodi confirming that he can help you get hold of Bradley. You back-and-forth with him, and settle on plan that will get Bradley out to the Donna with the excuse that there's a high school party in progress in one of the rooms. When Caleb gets back, you fill him in, then submit to having your brain copied into one of the just finished brain-bands. It is then glued into the mask you made of Dane, and the whole thing is sealed up golem-paint made using your hair.<br/>
<br/>
When you put it onto Bradley, it will turn him into a hybrid of you and Dane Matthias: Dane's body but your brain. That will be easier and quicker than trying to track down the real Dane (inside Gordon Black's body), and you and Caleb both figure it will be easy for a fake you to pretend to be Dane; and if anyone sees a personality change, it can be chalked up to his short, sharp adventure at Putnam Academy.<br/>
<br/>
It's a little before seven when you hear a car park outside your room. Caleb peers out through the curtains. "It's Bhodi and Joe," he says. "Fuck," he adds. "I think they got Paulina with them?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>The fuck?</i> You scramble up to join him at the window. Sure enough, Paulina is in the back seat of Joe's car. But she remains there while as the two boys get out and troop toward the door.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," Bhodi says after you've opened it. He and Joe don't come in. "Yeah, so Bradley should be out here in a little bit. Like, thirty minutes?" He darts his eyes about. "I guess me and Joe should hang out with you 'til he comes, make it look more like a party?"<br/>
<br/>
"That sounds fine," Caleb says. "Is Paulina coming in too?"<br/>
<br/>
Bhodi flinches.<br/>
<br/>
Joe, who has been listening with an anxious expression, jumps in. "Yeah, about Paulina," he says. "She knows about this. About the masks. What we're doing. All of it."<br/>
<br/>
You feel your eyes pop. Caleb says, "The fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's cool with it!" Bhodi protests. "She wants to help. In fact—" His eyes and his mouth twist up into a haggard half-grin.<br/>
<br/>
Joe steps in again. "She wants to be the one who, uh, becomes Bradley," he says. "She wants to be the one in his mask."<br/>
<br/>
You have to put a hand against the wall to keep from falling over. Bhodi pushes past you and sits on the bed with his hands folded between his knees.<br/>
<br/>
"What's the deal?" you demand. "And can't she come in here and explain it herself?"<br/>
<br/>
"She wanted us to explain it," Joe says. An expression of disgust crosses his face. "It's some revenge play she wants to do. Some girl she's got it in for—" He pauses as Bhodi mutters something you can't make out. "She says if it all works out, the girl will have to switch schools."<br/>
<br/>
You stare at Joe, then look over at Caleb, whose eyes are as wide as yours. You look back at Bhodi.<br/>
<br/>
He's hunched over, and it looks like he's about to throw up. <br/>
<br/>
"There's lots of other people you could be," Joe says. "If not Bradley."</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213223
author_id: seuzz
title: Spy Girl
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You mull the names that Joe has given you. You have no idea who Lucy Gibbon and Bradley White are, or what they're like. At least you sort-of know Melanie Heath—one of Lindsay's friends, and who is one of the two girls (Paulina Nowack being the other) who know about the masks, and about what you did to Bhodi and Evie.<br/>
<br/>
But mostly you know that she attends Eastman High.<br/>
<br/>
Still, she would surely know what Lindsay is thinking and when she is thinking it. If you turned yourself into her, it would put you close to Lindsay.<br/>
<br/>
You realize that Joe and Caleb are watching you very closely, with worried expressions. You shake your head clear. <br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I'll have to think about it," you tell Joe. "But, uh, forget about Melanie, okay? That would be too weird. Like, she's a friend of you guys. Right?"<br/>
<br/>
Joe gets a pinched look, but he doesn't argue. "Sure. But what do I tell the other guys?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Tell them to hang loose." You gesture him to follow as you turn back to the house. "Tell 'em to think about other people they might be, in case I— I mean <i>we,</i>" you correct yourself with a nudge at Caleb, "can't think of anything. And we still have to take care of Dane Matthias and his mom."<br/>
<br/>
Joe's face shows disappointment as you part on the back porch. He goes inside, while you and Caleb walk slowly around the house and clamber into his car.<br/>
<br/>
You're both silent until you're a few blocks from Justin's house, when Caleb finally speaks. "You're totally going to turn yourself into Melanie, aren't you?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"You heard what Joe said. She'd be perfect. Perfect cover to spy on Lindsay from."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb sucks in his cheeks. "You're taking this job pretty seriously."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, sure. But I'm not volunteering to turn myself into—" He shuts his mouth with a snap.<br/>
<br/>
"Into a what?" It feels like your scalp has erupted with fire ants.<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a puckish, sidelong glance. "Oh, I'm sure it has totally to do with saving those guys back there from Lindsay. It has <i>nothing</i> to do with turning yourself into a girl with long, soft, blonde hair. And a nice set of boobs. And a great pair of legs."<br/>
<br/>
You feel your face starting to burn, but you can't lay your tongue on any words.<br/>
<br/>
"She's got a great smile, too," Caleb continues. "And she's really sassy. I didn't get to know her real well while you were gone, but we talked a couple of times. She can really raise a welt with the side of her tongue when she wants. I bet she can do lots of great things with her tongue," he adds with a smirk.<br/>
<br/>
Still you say nothing. The drive continues in silence, with Caleb ignoring you even as you drill holes into the side of his face with your eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"No, it can't be any of those things," Caleb finally says. "It's probably that really hot boyfriend she's got. That's the appeal, right?" He grins at you.<br/>
<br/>
He's just braking at a stoplight, so you pound him in the balls. He howls and laughs and laughs again inside of his howls.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The trouble, of course, is that it will be very hard for you to get to Melanie Heath. Neither you nor Caleb have her contact info, and you can't ask any of the sophomores to set up a meeting without tipping your hand (probably) about what you're going to do. So back at the Donna you take turns working on masks and using Caleb's cell phone to scour the internet for clues. Eventually you find Melanie's Twitter account, and follow that into her other social media: Facebook, Instagram, Tumbler, x2z, etc. You learn that she is going to be attending a party Friday night.<br/>
<br/>
"It's some kind of going-away party," Caleb informs you the next day when he stops by the Donna to help you move out. "A pretty big thing, apparently."<br/>
<br/>
"Like how?" you ask. "And why should I care?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because Melanie cares," he retorts, "and you're going to be her, right? Anyway, I can tell you that Ioeger and Lamont are jizzing over it—"<br/>
<br/>
"Over an Eastman party?" you exclaim.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, not directly. But it's all got something to do with Gordon getting kicked off the basketball team, and that's got them giving each other hand jobs. Oh, also, Javits punched you out at school the other day, and you punched <i>him</i> out, but I don't think <i>that</i> has anything to do with this party."<br/>
<br/>
You straighten up from the cardboard box you're packing with masks. "You're not making any sense, dude."<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos it doesn't make any sense to me either," he says. "But James and Carson were asking me and Tilley at lunch what it was all about—that fight you got into with Javits, I mean—and we had to tell them you weren't hanging out with us much anymore, so we didn't know, except that you'd gone crazy or something."<br/>
<br/>
You give up on trying to follow Caleb's story, and just ask about the place where this party is being held. "House of some soccer player, so, like, all the freaking Eastman jocks are gonna be there. Including Melanie's boyfriend, 'cos he's a hairy, muscle-y jock too." He breaks off and waggles his eyebrows at you. "It's a going-away party for some guys they're all friends with."<br/>
<br/>
"And you found out about this Eastman party at <i>Westside</i> today?"<br/>
<br/>
"From Carson and James. Like I said, they were jizzing themselves over it."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Whatever.</i> Carson Ioeger and James Lamont, with their weird anti-jock antics, are even crazier than the Will Prescott who is really Gordon Black in disguise.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Though the party is supposed to start at seven, you're sure that no respectable high school party could possibly get going earlier than nine, and Melanie (and her boyfriend) might not even show up until ten. So you and Caleb spend the evening preparing for the kidnapping and replacement, which you are timing for ten-thirty. You yourself don't have a curfew, of course; and Caleb has set his golem up to spend the evening at home. <i>I'm going to have to get one of those for my own,</i> you think.<br/>
<br/>
At a quarter till eleven you pull up in front of a large house belonging to one Kyle Lakewood, but there are so many cars clogging the street that you have to park two blocks away and hoof it over. A low, rumbling beat thumps into the night as you approach; the front door hangs open, despite the cool October air, letting light and high school students spill out. You swallow at the sight of so many big guys (and lithe girls) in letterman jackets, laughing hoarsely and tossing back drinks from giant, plastic tumblers.<br/>
<br/>
"Let's split up," Caleb shouts in your ear as you both confront the standing-room-only crowd. But you shake your head; even if one of you found Melanie, you'd never find each other again.<br/>
<br/>
So you both push into the crowd, jostling (but mostly being jostled back by) lots of hulking guys who, thank God, don't pay much attention to you.<br/>
<br/>
It's Caleb who first spots your quarry, and pulls you over. He must have keen eyes: there are at least a dozen people piled onto a sofa beside a piano, laughing with their heads thrown back. Most of them are girls sprawling across the laps of a couple of (lucky!) guys, and one of them is Melanie. Her smile seems wider and brighter than the rest, and she flips her long hair back behind her hair with tapering fingers.<br/>
<br/>
Not until you are standing directly before her does she notice you, and even then she only gives you a blank look as you stare down at her. "Hey! Melanie!" you shout at her, but she doesn't react. Is she drunk? Her eyes are glassy. "Lindsay sent us to find you!" Caleb shouts in turn.<br/>
<br/>
For a moment she gapes at you. Then she jumps. "Omigawd!" She struggles off the lap of the guy she's sitting on, then falls back as he grabs her. "What is it?" she asks you, giggling from atop his chest.<br/>
<br/>
"Message from Lindsay!" you shout, and try to dodge the gaze of her boyfriend, whose expression is darkening into a scowl. "She couldn't send you a text on account of it's about—" You wave your hand before your face.<br/>
<br/>
"Omigawd!" she exclaims again, and again she tries to rise. When her boyfriend pulls her back down, she jabbers into his ear. "I have to!" she shouts when he still hangs onto her. "I'll be right back! Promise!" She darts in and kisses him wetly on the cheek.<br/>
<br/>
So he lets her go. But still he glares at you and Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's it about?" she shouts as she follows you through the crowd. "Outside!" you shout back. "We have to go!" "Is it an emergency?" "Kind of!" Caleb assures her.<br/>
<br/>
Once you're outside, you quickly explain as you hustle her along, that it's Mrs. Matthias: She's gone nuts or something, is demanding that she continue being Evie, and Lindsay wants you out there to talk some sense into her. "Ohmigawd!" is all Melanie can say in reply. You are starting to hope that she actually is drunk.<br/>
<br/>
The next part is remarkably easy. You open the back door to Caleb's car for her, and she slides in. You lean in, as though to help her, reach past to pick up a mask, and press it into her face. She freezes, then slowly falls over.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Omigawd!" you exclaim. A mask is still copying Melanie, but you're already wearing her brain band. "That was totally lucky, us catching Melanie like that and getting her away!"<br/>
<br/>
"Why, was her boyfriend getting handsy?"<br/>
<br/>
"That wasn't her boyfriend! I thought you met him!" Caleb blinks at you. "Melanie and Tyler had a huge-ass fight and he skipped the party. That was another guy she was making out with, and he's psycho weird!"</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213224
author_id: seuzz
title: When Second Thoughts Come Too Late
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You mull the names that Joe has given you. You have no idea who Lucy Gibbon and Bradley White are, or what they're like. You barely know Melanie Heath—who is at least friends with Bhodi's group—for she actually attends Eastman.<br/>
<br/>
But you know Lindsay Cho, who Joe didn't even mention. Boy, do you feel like you know her.<br/>
<br/>
She would not be your first choice for an impersonation. She's not an attractive girl. She's dumpy and frowny and slumps on her feet, and she doesn't bother to dress up nice. And she doesn't like you.<br/>
<br/>
Of course, why should she, considering that you kidnapped two of her friends and tried to impersonate them?<br/>
<br/>
No, she would not be your first or second or even your fifty-second choice. But she's got the grimoire; she's seems like the paranoid type; and if she ever finds out what her friends are up to ... Well, she probably won't kill them. But she'd probably kill you for helping them out.<br/>
<br/>
So the safest way to prevent that from happening ... is to become her?<br/>
<br/>
You realize that Joe and Caleb are watching you very closely, with worried expressions. You shake your head clear. <br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I'll have to think about it," you tell Joe, "and look up this, uh, Lucy girl and Bradley guy."<br/>
<br/>
"What do I tell the other guys?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Tell them to hang loose for a little while. Keep thinking of other people they might be, in case I can't, or don't, uh—" You lift your cap and rake your fingers through the tangle of your hair, for your scalp is suddenly afire with itches. "Besides, we've still got Dane and his mom to take care of. That could complicate things."<br/>
<br/>
Joe's face shows disappointment.<br/>
<br/>
"Also, um, don't mention Melanie to them," you add. "I don't think she's, uh, going to be the one I pick. Besides, remember, she was <i>your</i> idea."<br/>
<br/>
Joe turns very white, and his head jerks awkwardly as he nods. <i>Such a ginormous, round head,</i> you find yourself thinking for about the ninety-third time since meeting him. <i>Like an over-inflated beach ball.</i><br/>
<br/>
You and Caleb walk Joe back to the Orrs' back porch, telling him you'll try to have news for him and his friends tomorrow morning. Then you walk around the side of the house to clamber into Caleb's car. You're both silent until you're a few blocks from Justin's house, when Caleb finally speaks.<br/>
<br/>
"You're totally going to turn yourself into Melanie, aren't you?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm totally going to turn myself into Lindsay," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
The car jerks and heaves as Caleb's foot slips off the gas. "Jesus," he mutters. "Is that a joke?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. Do you think it sounds like one?"<br/>
<br/>
He's gone pale, and he gives you a couple of sidelong looks. "Okay," he says, "explain it to me."<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. "Like I was telling Joe. Lindsay and them need watching. She's got the book and she's got a bad attitude. And the best way to watch her is by being her."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb doesn't reply for long time, except to ask and confirm that you want to return to the Donna. When next he speaks of the matter, his voice is very tight and controlled. "You know, if you're telling me the truth about this, you really are going above and beyond the call of duty for those guys back there."<br/>
<br/>
"Why would I lie?" you shoot back.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know why you would. I just mean, if those <i>really</i> are your reasons—" He shifts in his seat. "Why are you knocking yourself out for Joe and them? I mean, turning yourself into <i>Lindsay?</i> That's really taking one for the team. And it's not even your team," he adds almost under his breath.<br/>
<br/>
"You saw how they were back at Justin's house," you retort. "They're gonna fuck things up, and Lindsay's gonna catch on, and then she really will take a blowtorch to my nutsack. She threatened to do that when she first got Bhodi's mask off me, you know! And she was legit serious!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that's the problem, those guys back there. We shouldn't be giving them masks."<br/>
<br/>
You turn to give him a direct stare. "What?" he asks you.<br/>
<br/>
"Why are you only saying this now?"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought I said it couple of times back there!"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you were—! You mean to say you <i>seriously</i> want to give all those masks to Lindsay?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! I'm just saying we shouldn't be helping Grant and them with this thing!"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you really wanted to help them out with that!"<br/>
<br/>
"And I thought <i>you</i> did! Christ, Will! You made up masks for them, you showed them how they worked and you left the book with them when you left town!"<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos they asked me to! And they had me locked up in that basement! And you helped them while I was gone!"<br/>
<br/>
So you and Caleb yell at each for a couple of blocks, each trying to pin the blame on the other, before collapsing into a mutual, moody silence. "Well, it's too late now," he grumbles as he turns into the Donna parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
"It's both our faults," you reply, and he shrugs. Peace, if not happiness, is thereby somewhat restored between you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
At the Donna you gather up all your stuff: masks and mask supplies, and the thousands of dollars that you'd collected from The Warehouse. The mood between you and Caleb continues brusque and business-like. "Do you think as Lindsay you can help Joe and them get to those guys?" he asks as he sweeps the masks into a smelly cardboard box that he rescued from the motel dumpster.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. Probably have to wait until I, uh, know what she knows, who she knows."<br/>
<br/>
"There's that guy she's supposedly got a crush on."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, we'll have to see."<br/>
<br/>
"So what are you going to tell Joe and them? About what you're doing, who you're being?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm gonna tell them I'm gonna be Dane." It's an improvised reply, but it feels totally right as soon as you say it.<br/>
<br/>
"So how is <i>Dane</i> going to be able to help them?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." It sounds like Caleb is trying to get a rise out of you, but you keep your temper. "I might need <i>your</i> help with that."<br/>
<br/>
"Me? I don't know Brad or Evan or Megan or whoever it is they—"<br/>
<br/>
"I mean, maybe we'll have to put you somewhere you can help."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb straightens up and gives you a look. But he doesn't argue.<br/>
<br/>
"And I guess I kind of am going to be Dane," you continue. Your thoughts are moving like quicksilver, and they haven't run into an obstacle yet. "We've got that mask of him, right? Where is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"At my place."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it hasn't got a brain band to go with it. So we'll make a brain band of me and slap it into the mask. Then we'll put that golem paint into it and slap it onto Lindsay, turn her into one of those golem things." You affect to ignore the way Caleb's lips disappear as you say all this. "Then that'll turn her into a guy who looks like Dane and acts like me, won't it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, and what a nightmare <i>that's</i> going to be."<br/>
<br/>
You continue to ignore him. "So we'll tell them that's me. He'll take over being Dane, and I'll be Lindsay." Your heart gives a couple of wild beats.<br/>
<br/>
"What'll we tell Dane's mother?"<br/>
<br/>
"Same thing, that I'm being him. Oh, and that we're tracking down a new identity for her. Which reminds me, you should text Joe, tell him that him and the others should be thinking of a hot girl for Mrs. Matthias to become."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," Caleb mutters, but he takes out his phone. "And how are we going to get to Lindsay?"<br/>
<br/>
"We'll invite her out to Dane's trailer, to talk about Dane and what to do about him." <i>Yes, this is all fitting neatly together.</i> "And <i>you</i> should be the one to text her."<br/>
<br/>
"You know, I'd say it sounds like I'm doing all the work," Caleb retorts. "But then I remember how all this is going to end up for you."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After checking out of the Donna you drive out to the Matthias's trailer. It's dark, and Mrs. Matthias isn't in, but you remember where the spare key is, and let yourselves in. You're surprised to see that it's a lot cleaner than when you last saw it. It even looks (and smells) like it's been vacuumed.<br/>
<br/>
But Dane's room is still a mess. You stretch yourself out on the bed and let Caleb drop a newly minted brain band onto your forehead. Then, while he negotiates by text with Lindsay—and goes out to fetch some burgers for supper—you finish carving up a second band and polish another mask. As you work, you talk some more with Caleb, and he fields text messages, including one from Joe telling you that he and the others are meeting with Mrs. Matthias to pick out a new identity for her.<br/>
<br/>
By eight o'clock, everything is in readiness: You have a brain band and blank mask to copy Lindsay, and a mask of Dane (with your own personality and memories inside it) to put onto her; you have also made up a small batch of the golem paint. Caleb leaves to pick Lindsay up and bring her back to the trailer.<br/>
<br/>
And yet, only now does it occur to you that you don't actually have to <i>become</i> Lindsay. Maybe you could make a mask of her, put that golem paint into it, set her own mask onto her, and turn her into a golem of herself that you could control. That's all you really need to neutralize the threat from her, right? Then you could find another identity for yourself.<br/>
<br/>
Except ... what if it doesn't work that way? And what if you're only able to control one golem at a time? It's always a bad idea to gamble with magic. It would be especially dangerous to gamble with it when you're trying to take out a threat like Lindsay Cho.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132241
author_id: seuzz
title: The Choice for a Cho
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're just coming down the hall from using the toilet—which was as surprisingly clean as the rest of the Matthias's trailer—when the front door is yanked open and Lindsay comes in.<br/>
<br/>
Your first, very uncharitable thought, is that she looks like a pissed-off troll.<br/>
<br/>
Your second impression isn't much better.<br/>
<br/>
Her face is set in a hard, truculent glower under a comically over-large trucker hat, and her shoulders are hunched up about her ears. Her lips are parted in a soft frown. Her dark eyes dart about, and what little light is in them dies when they settle on you. Caleb, following her in, stumbles into her, and she shoots him a dirty look over her shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," you greet her. "Thanks for coming."<br/>
<br/>
She bites her lower lip, and you see it in her eyes: She's about to say <i>fuck you.</i> But she thinks better of it, and only shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
"Your friend says you're gonna be moving in here," she sneers as she casts another dark gaze about the living room. "You been cleaning up, getting it ready?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, the plan's something like that." You're tempted to shut her down now with a mask. But you hold back. Maybe you're thinking she should have her say first? "I know you want us to put everything back to normal—"<br/>
<br/>
"You got Evie back. That's all that matters to me." She squirms on her feet. "Whatever your other problems are, they're not mine."<br/>
<br/>
You blink. "But you said last night—"<br/>
<br/>
"Look, you got Evie back," she repeats with a glare. "I think you <i>should</i> put everything back. What you did was <i>evil.</i> That <i>book</i> is evil."<br/>
<br/>
Then she looks away. "But Evie and Paulina are all, like, don't push it. So just, you know, do whatever the fuck you want." She licks her lips. "And if it means turning yourself into a pothead, well, I think you <i>deserve</i> it."<br/>
<br/>
But you barely hear her words over the rushing blood in your ears. <i>Evie was taking your side? Sort of? Paulina too?</i> Your knees start to tremble.<br/>
<br/>
"Will?" Caleb says, and you realize you've been staring at Lindsay with your mouth hanging open.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh!" you grunt. "Yeah. Um, well, thanks. I guess." You scratch under the bill of your cap. "There's one more thing, though." <br/>
<br/>
For a brief moment you are wildly tempted to give up on your plan, and to surrender everything to Lindsay, and to return to your own life.<br/>
<br/>
But the temptation dies the moment your fingertips touch the mask hidden inside the paper bag at your elbow.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, we had a few extra things lying around, from before? Caleb and me?" you say as you take it out. "Uh, we heard that Bhodi gave you the book back. We figure you'd want to get rid of everything else, too."<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay's expression tightens as you advance on her. But she hasn't time to even raise her hands before you smush the mask into her face. For one moment she hangs in place. <br/>
<br/>
Then her legs buckle. Caleb yells "Watch out!" and you and he grab her as she falls, and are dragged down to the floor with her in a heap.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus!" Caleb exclaims as you disentangle yourselves from her. "You sure as fuck took long enough, man. I was starting to think you were chickening out."<br/>
<br/>
You grunt. "Let's get her back in Dane's bedroom. You have any idea how long 'til Dane's mom gets back?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not a clue. Oh, God!" His face crimsons as he tries lifting Lindsay by the wrists. "It's like trying to carry a sack of cement!"<br/>
<br/>
So it is. Lindsay is small—the crown of her head doesn't come up much beyond your or Caleb's collarbone—and she's not fat. But lifting and carrying a deadweight is lot harder than it looks like in movies. Finally, though, you're able to slide her down the hallway and to lift and roll her onto Dane's bed. "Go on a diet or something," Caleb groans after falling breathlessly to the floor, "after you're her."<br/>
<br/>
You ignore the jibe, and concentrate on disrobing Lindsay, so that her clothes won't get torn when you put Dane's mask on her. Her sockless, stubby feet are jammed inside black, worn-out Converse sneakers, and those are the first to be liberated. Then off come the jeans and—you grimace a little—the underthings, exposing her flabby, fleshy hips and thighs and a tangled bush. Then you and Caleb roll her over so you can peel off her denim jacket and a thin, powder-blue t-shirt. From behind, you unhook and unclasp her bra. It's tedious work, for you have to fight her lifeless limbs, and when you roll her back over again, the mask gets left behind on the bed-spread. "Brain band," you mutter at Caleb, and he reaches past you to slap the metal strip onto Lindsay's forehead, where it disappears.<br/>
<br/>
You and Caleb then hunch on the edge of the bed, and study her. "It could be worse," you observe after a long silence.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess," Caleb says. "I mean, fuck, you were playing that drug dealer for, what, a week?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yeah, I'm not doing this to have fun,</i> you almost reply. But then, why are you doing it?<br/>
<br/>
Right. You got into this mess to escape first Gordon Black and then Gary Chen. Now you're stealing Lindsay's identity in order to help out a bunch of dumb sophomore guys who <i>are</i> in it to have fun. Momentarily, your temper flares at the unfairness of it all.<br/>
<br/>
But, dammit, you grudgingly admit to yourself, you actually do like Joe and Justin and Grant and them. They helped you out when they didn't have to, even after you'd done something really bad to their friends, first to Evie and then to Bhodi. And they're good enough that it seems like even Bhodi's forgiven you.<br/>
<br/>
And has Evie? Your heart races, and you feel yourself flushing. You drove cross-country with her, but you barely talked, it seems like. You didn't know what to say to her, and she didn't seem like she wanted to talk to you. But Lindsay said—<br/>
<br/>
Your reflections are interrupted by the sound of a door opening in the outer rooms. You and Caleb exchange frightened glances, and he dashes from the bedroom and pulls the door shut behind him.<br/>
<br/>
You hold your breath and listen to him greet someone. Oh, it's Mrs. Matthias—you recognize her voice. You can't make out their words, though, until Caleb from the other side of the door says, "I'll check and see." The door opens, and he looks in. "Dane's mom," he mouths at you, and you nod. "You're changing into Dane. Come out when—" His eyes widen, and you look down to see that the brain band has reappeared on Lindsay's forehead. You snatch it up, and when you look up again, the door has shut.<br/>
<br/>
You press another mask onto Lindsay's face—one already prepped for her to receive—and scramble out of the way when Dane Matthias appears on the bed next to you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
At least he's up to speed on what's going on, for though he lacks Dane's memories and personality, he knows everything you've been thinking and planning up until an hour ago. "Jesus," he says as he pulls on some of Dane's old pajama bottoms, which you found under the bed. "Pretty fucking funny to think I got Lindsay's pussy in back of this thing." He grasps his package and squeezes it.<br/>
<br/>
"Just remember, you're supposed to be Dane," you hiss at him.<br/>
<br/>
He straightens up. "I thought we were gonna tell his mom that I'm, er, you."<br/>
<br/>
"Right. But at school, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"And with Chen?" he asks. "Ah!" he grins mirthlessly as you blink at him. "Forgot about <i>him,</i> didn't you? Christ, I thought we were doing the whole identity-theft thing to get <i>away</i> from that psycho!"<br/>
<br/>
"Look, if you want to go back to being Lindsay—"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll put up with Chen first! But fuck." He pulls on a smelly t-shirt. "With Dane's cousin gone, what's Chen gonna be like? Oh!" He snaps his fingers at you. "And what am I supposed to do for money? Wasn't Dwayne, like, supporting them, basically?"<br/>
<br/>
"Looks like you're gonna have to get a job. It'll go with your new haircut," you add as his face falls. "The new, more responsible Dane Matthias."<br/>
<br/>
He cusses under his breath as you push him toward the door. "Now go say 'hi' to your new mom," you tell him, "while she still <i>is</i> your mom."<br/>
<br/>
You hunch on the edge the bed after he's gone, listening to the voices. It's impossible to read the emotions inside the muffled words. On and on they drone, with Caleb joining them. Eventually you realize that no one is going to come back to talk to you, because no one is going to hint to Mrs. Matthias that there's another person in the trailer.<br/>
<br/>
So you pick up the loose brain band that's lying on the bed. The name LINDSAY MARIE CHO floats in blue letters above it.<br/>
<br/>
<i>I can do this,</i> you tell yourself.<br/>
<br/>
But aren't you going to need help? The new "Dane" is going to need help, you suspect. You know that in his place (and it is a version of you in his place) you'd be panicked at being thrown into a doubly-new life, as Dane Matthias and as a Dane Matthias needing to change his lifestyle. Justin and Grant and them need managing, which you can't do from under Lindsay's identity. And you also are scaring yourself as you imagine yourself becoming Lindsay. It would be much nicer if you had someone nearby to confide in.<br/>
<br/>
Only Caleb can help you with any of these. But not as "Caleb Johansson"; he would have to become someone else.<br/>
<br/>
Thing is, he doesn't seem like he's eager to take on a new identity.<br/>
<br/>
A silence descends in the outer rooms, which shocks you out of these worries. You notice again the brain band in your now-sweaty palm.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Best to get it over with,</i> you tell yourself, and put it to your forehead.</span></div></div>


