# chapters

path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324111
author_id: rugal
title: The Kimquisition
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You want to know what's happening with me?" you ask as you shift nervously. You try to deflect. "Nothing's happening, just what I told you before." You begin to contemplate the mask in the bag. All you need to do is take it out and everything is fixed. Nothing to worry about.<br/>
<br/>
"Please don't talk to me like I'm dumb," she says with more force than you'd have expected as she releases you.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry," you apologize, "it's just..."<br/>
<br/>
"It's just what?" she asks with concern showing on her face. "If there's something going on I want you to tell me, you know I'm here to help. You just have to tell me the truth. What's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
You reach into the bag and feel around. Your fingers find the cold, smooth surface. Just take the mask out and shove it onto her face before she can do anything. Then everything will be done, just like you said it would. Just like you told Caleb. Just like you told yourself. Your fingers grasp the mask tightly. You take one last look at Kim...<br/>
<br/>
And your grip loosens. You can't do it. You look at her and the concern she's showing and your resolve melts away. You're actually touched by it even though you're sure she'd show the same concern for any other student. But that just makes what you were about to do even worse doesn't it? Because Kim is far too nice, far too sweet, for you to just shove under a mask so you can steal her life. So you walk over to the bed, set the bag on the floor and sit down.<br/>
<br/>
"First, can you promise that everything I tell you stays between us?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course," she answers.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, and I want you to keep an open mind too because everything I'm going to tell you is one hundred percent true."<br/>
<br/>
"I've heard a lot of wild things about what some students get up to," she says, "so I don't really know what you could say that I wouldn't believe." She takes a seat next you, turned just a bit to face you and places her hands in her lap. It's like she's going to play the part of the little girl waiting patiently, though with some undisguised eagerness.<br/>
<br/>
So you launch into the whole long, sordid and complicated tale. A story so winding, twisting this way and that, that even you get confused and have to backtrack on more than one occasion. But you've still got the basic framework though: finding the book and using it, swapping with Caleb for fun and the trouble he got you into with Chelsea and Gordon. There's your identity being forced on Gordon -- and you emphasize that it's been him the whole time because you haven't been yourself really for a good week or two as you've lost track of time -- and the myriad of body jumping that left you getting tangled up with the sophomores and having to help them get their friend back thanks to your mistake and the drug dealers and...<br/>
<br/>
You're exhausted by the end of it. Kim just watches you intently the entire time, nodding and making noises to let you know she's paying attention.<br/>
<br/>
"So that's where everything stands," you finish up as you take the mask out of the bag and set it down between the both of you. "This is what's gotten me into so much trouble." You then launch into an explanation of just how the masks work as well as the different spells you've found in the book.<br/>
<br/>
Kim picks the mask up and examines it carefully. You fight down the urge to smush it onto her face. "It's definitely hard to believe any of that's real. It sounds like something out of some old pulp novel; <i>Will Prescott and Book of Masks</i>," she says as she looks up at you with a smile. "But you're not really someone who tells tall tales either," she adds.<br/>
<br/>
"I always sucked at the creative writing assignments," you say.<br/>
<br/>
Kim laughs a little bit at that. "You were never any good at them from what I remember," she states. "And when I look at the way that, quote-unquote, you've been acting or what's happened to Gordon it becomes more believable. Gordon's actions make a lot more sense if it's really Dane impersonating him."<br/>
<br/>
She takes another look at the mask and then sets it back down on the bed. "You were going to use this on me, weren't you?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I came this close to doing it, Kim. I'm really sorry," you say with contrition.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be," she states and you're struck by the warmness of her tone. "I mean it <i>is</i> partly your fault you're in this situation in the first place but not wholly. And you need to be <i>someone</i>. I guess I should feel flattered that you thought my life was good enough to steal," she laughs. "So where's the book now?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't have it," you tell her. "Bhodi, uh one of the sophomore guys that I helped, he's holding onto it right now. Lindsay's demanding it though, probably so she can burn it or something."<br/>
<br/>
"I can understand why she'd want to get rid of it although it does seem like a waste to just destroy something like that."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, the knowledge wouldn't be lost. Not all of it anyway," you explain. "I was able to copy out the spells that we'd made it up to. We'd still be able to use them."<br/>
<br/>
"Mhm," Kim replies absentmindedly as she looks once more at the mask. "More importantly we need to get you out of here and back into school."<br/>
<br/>
"School? I'm not really concerned about my education right now."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that's important too but I mean for your own sake," she says as she looks back at you, her eyes filled once more with sympathy and concern. "You can't really stay cooped up in here, you'll go crazy.  The fact you were going to use this on me is proof enough. It means that you realize it as well."<br/>
<br/>
"That's true, but," you say as you yourself look down at the mask, "I don't think you're going to want me using that to just... replace someone else. You know, steal their life."<br/>
<br/>
"I'd rather note if I can help it," she replies as she makes a face. "But if there's no other way I'll find someone at school for you to be for a little bit until we can figure out something better. Not like you can copy someone who doesn't exist."<br/>
<br/>
Copy someone who doesn't exist? Of course! There's a way around it that might be much more palatable to her. "Well we can't do that exactly but there might be something we can try," you tell her. "Because the way these things work, you have to use that sealant that I mentioned from one of the spells. If you put it on someone without sealing it then it's just going to copy them too."<br/>
<br/>
"So it would just make some kind of composite person based on everyone it copied before it was sealed?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"That's the idea I think."<br/>
<br/>
"I see, that's definitely way better morally," Kim states as she looks to be focusing. "But then if someone doesn't exist how are we going to get them into school? They won't have any records. You can help out around here and we can pay you under the table so you'd have money but everything else would be hard."<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly her eyes go wide and she stands up. "Jeez, I didn't mean to step away for this long!" she exclaims. "I'm sorry Will but I have to get back to work. But can we meet back in here around noon tomorrow?"<br/>
<br/>
"Us?"<br/>
<br/>
"And Caleb and any of those sophomores too if they can make it," she tells you. "It'd probably be good if everyone was on the same page."<br/>
<br/>
With that she starts to leave but having forgotten something you suddenly remember it and call out to her, stopping her. "Hey, um, so what did 'we' do on Saturday?" you ask. "You said we had fun."<br/>
<br/>
Kim thinks about it for a moment before giving you a sly smile. "That'll be my secret," she says coyly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Will."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I can't believe she's on board," Caleb says with enthusiasm. "I mean it's lame that you pussed out and had second thoughts <i>again</i> but at least this time it was a boon."<br/>
<br/>
You'd had him take you over to Starbucks but put off mentioning anything about how it had gone to him until, as you're now going back to the Donna, you were finally able to work up the nerve to tell him. All he'd known is that the switch hadn't happened given that you were still you.<br/>
<br/>
"Can't believe she's going to help you like that too."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're coming tomorrow right?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," he answers, "and I'll tell the guys too. That probably means Paulina's coming out as well. I'll tell them not to tell Lindsay."<br/>
<br/>
"She should probably know what's going on," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"She thinks the book's evil, she wouldn't be down for it," he counters. "Jesus himself could tell her he needed the book and she'd spit in his face I think. For an annoying little hobgoblin I'm kind of impressed by how willful she is."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe I should just take her on as my identity."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't even joke about that," he states.<br/>
<br/>
"Who said I was joking?" you respond. "I need a new place and it gets her out of the way. Two birds with one stone." You let out a long, tired sigh though. "But it's not going to be her. Ideally I'd like to stay in the senior class, maybe junior."<br/>
<br/>
You don't say much more from that point until you get back to the Donna. You lock the door to your room behind you and flop onto the bed. Tomorrow's going to be a big day and you're going to have to make a big decision. One that you can't flip-flop on this time.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213241111
author_id: rugal
title: Recasting the Role
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Is this everyone?" Kim asks as she surveys the relative crowd of people.<br/>
<br/>
It's a little after noon on Saturday and a group is gathered inside the room you've been renting at the Donna Motor Courts. It's a rather large group as well. There's yourself and Kim of course, plus Caleb. In addition Bhodi, Justin, Grant, Andy and Joe are here too. None of that's a surprise, they've been your main conspirators for lack of a better term. No the real surprise comes in the form of three more people: Paulina, Melanie and, to your even larger shock, Evie are all here.<br/>
<br/>
"We're missing two," you tell her. "Lindsay and Mrs. Matthias aren't here."<br/>
<br/>
Kim nods. "Well if they couldn't make it--" she starts.<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, it was by our choice," Caleb cuts her off. "Marianne's sort of being kept separate. You know, adult and all. She doesn't want a bunch of kids telling her what to do."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," Kim simply states.<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay would be against it no matter what," Caleb tells her.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Joe adds, "she's already demanding the book so she can get rid of it. She'd just tell us to put everyone back and be done with it."<br/>
<br/>
"No matter how screwed up everything's gotten," you grumble.<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay won't be a problem," Paulina jumps in to your surprise. "If she asks, we'll just say that Bhodi gave the book to me so I could get rid of it. I wouldn't want it around after what it did to my friend after all."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do we tell her about where I end up? She'll need to know that."<br/>
<br/>
"Does she?" Paulina asks. You don't know her too well but it's a side of her you're surprised to see.<br/>
<br/>
"It'd be a good idea to at least let her know," Kim states. "But after we've already done it. She can't do anything about a fait accompli. We do it," she points to Paulina, "then go with what she said."<br/>
<br/>
"We're keeping the book?" asks Andy.<br/>
<br/>
"You can't just throw a magical tome in front of people and not expect them to want to go through it," Kim declares. "But we'll do it carefully. At least one of us," she motions between yourself, herelf and Caleb, "will need to be present and everyone will have to be at least aware of what's going on. It'd probably be best to set up a group text once we're ready to go through the book."<br/>
<br/>
You're impressed on the one hand but on the other you probably shouldn't be. It's the type of take charge attitude and foresight you'd expect from someone who's gotten to where Kim has managed to get. Would you have been this on the ball if you had put that mask on her and taken up her identity? Maybe, maybe not but it's all moot now and you're definitely glad that you were able to be truthful with her.<br/>
<br/>
"But we're getting ahead of ourselves," she says as she turns her attention back towards you. "First thing's first, we need to get you back in the game. Have you figured out what you want to do?"<br/>
<br/>
Yes, it's that time. You've been dreading it yet you've also been anticipating it. You were thinking about it all last night, you were thinking about it for most of the morning. Only a little bit before everyone started arriving did you finally come to a decision. You know that you can't back out of it this time. Whatever you choose is what you're stuck with but that's for the best anyway. Your old life is gone so there's not really anything to go back to. Best to start a new one.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you nod. "It'll be best if I just let you find someone for me. There's too many issues that come with just making an entirely new person."<br/>
<br/>
"That makes sense," Kim says though she shifts a bit. "Honestly in regards to just replacing someone I kind of share Lindsay's hesitance. But you're right. It would be hard getting you into school without any identification or records and you can't just sit here all day. That'd defeat the entire purpose."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're letting someone else pick for you?" Caleb asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm letting Kim pick for me, not just someone else," you retort. "She'll make the best choice possible."<br/>
<br/>
Kim looks at you for a second with a faint hint of surprise, then smiles and nods.<br/>
<br/>
"Awesome, then you should pick a someone popular or hot," Caleb tells her with a grin. "Because when Will comes back I want to leech off of that popularity just a little bit."<br/>
<br/>
"You want to be a senior?" Kim asks you but it's Caleb who answers for you.<br/>
<br/>
"It's what he told me yesterday. That he was hoping to stay in the senior class."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait!" a voice cries out. To the surprise of you and apparently everyone else it's Evie and she's looking at you with her eyes filled with worry. "You can't just, uh, stay with us?" she asks. There's looks of confusion and curiosity and Evie shrinks back a bit. It's not the kind of outburst she's used to. But she says nothing more and it's Melanie who speaks up next.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, uh even though I don't go to Westside but I mean," she motions to the sophomore boys, "it'd probably be a good idea to have someone look out for these doofuses and make sure they don't cause trouble."<br/>
<br/>
"Looking out for everyone might be a good idea too," Kim says, her face locked in concentration. Her expression brightens as she looks at you once more. "We could always get you a teacher. One of the younger ones maybe. You'd have a lot more freedom and if you wanted to look after any of us that'd probably be the best place to do it from."<br/>
<br/>
"Income too," Caleb points out. "It costs money to go through the book. It's definitely a good suggestion but I'd still rather have you with me in the senior class."</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213241112
author_id: rugal
title: Preparing For the New Guy
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Is this everyone?" Kim asks as she surveys the relative crowd of people.<br/>
<br/>
It's a little after noon on Saturday and a group is gathered inside the room you've been renting at the Donna Motor Courts. It's a rather large group as well. There's yourself and Kim of course, plus Caleb. In addition Bhodi, Justin, Grant, Andy and Joe are here too. None of that's a surprise, they've been your main conspirators for lack of a better term. No the real surprise comes in the form of three more people: Paulina, Melanie and, to your even larger shock, Evie are all here.<br/>
<br/>
"We're missing two," you tell her. "Lindsay and Mrs. Matthias aren't here."<br/>
<br/>
Kim nods. "Well if they couldn't make it--" she starts.<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, it was by our choice," Caleb cuts her off. "Marianne's sort of being kept separate. You know, adult and all. She doesn't want a bunch of kids telling her what to do."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," Kim simply states.<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay would be against it no matter what," Caleb tells her.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Joe adds, "she's already demanding the book so she can get rid of it. She'd just tell us to put everyone back and be done with it."<br/>
<br/>
"No matter how screwed up everything's gotten," you grumble.<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay won't be a problem," Paulina jumps in to your surprise. "If she asks, we'll just say that Bhodi gave the book to me so I could get rid of it. I wouldn't want it around after what it did to my friend after all."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do we tell her about where I end up? She'll need to know that."<br/>
<br/>
"Does she?" Paulina asks. You don't know her too well but it's a side of her you're surprised to see.<br/>
<br/>
"It'd be a good idea to at least let her know," Kim states. "But after we've already done it. She can't do anything about a fait accompli. We do it," she points to Paulina, "then go with what she said."<br/>
<br/>
"We're keeping the book?" asks Andy.<br/>
<br/>
"You can't just throw a magical tome in front of people and not expect them to want to go through it," Kim declares. "But we'll do it carefully. At least one of us," she motions between yourself, herelf and Caleb, "will need to be present and everyone will have to be at least aware of what's going on. It'd probably be best to set up a group text once we're ready to go through the book."<br/>
<br/>
You're impressed on the one hand but on the other you probably shouldn't be. It's the type of take charge attitude and foresight you'd expect from someone who's gotten to where Kim has managed to get. Would you have been this on the ball if you had put that mask on her and taken up her identity? Maybe, maybe not but it's all moot now and you're definitely glad that you were able to be truthful with her.<br/>
<br/>
"But we're getting ahead of ourselves," she says as she turns her attention back towards you. "First thing's first, we need to get you back in the game. Have you figured out what you want to do?"<br/>
<br/>
Yes, it's that time. You've been dreading it yet you've also been anticipating it. You were thinking about it all last night, you were thinking about it for most of the morning. Only a little bit before everyone started arriving did you finally come to a decision. You know that you can't back out of it this time. Whatever you choose is what you're stuck with but that's for the best anyway. Your old life is gone so there's not really anything to go back to. Best to start a new one.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you nod. "It'll be best if we just create a new identity entirely. A guy."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," Kim nods with approval. "Truth be told, I was hoping that you'd go for the new identity over replacing someone. I've got some reservations about that honestly."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't know why you had to specify the gender," Caleb says but then breaks out into a grin. "Unless... Will, were you actually thinking of becoming a girl? Did you want to play with a pair of boobies that badly?"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up," you say. Well not just you. To your surprise Kim says it in unison with you. The two of you look at eachother for a minute and then snicker.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, anyway, yeah I considered it. So what?" you retort. "I thought it might've been best for hanging around Kim without rumors spreading. Evie too. I didn't want things getting weird with her."<br/>
<br/>
 "What, like she'd develop a thing for you?" Grant laughs. "Oh man, I don't think that's happening though. No offense or anything dude but, uh, I just don't see it."<br/>
<br/>
Evie says nothing, just shifts nervously. It's Melanie who casts a hard look in his direction. "Well guys are idiots anyway but it'll be nice to have at least one non-shit-for-brains around," she says. Grant shrinks back a bit at the force of her words.<br/>
<br/>
"So how's this going to work anyway?" asks Justin. "Not like you can just create a person out of thin air."<br/>
<br/>
It's Caleb, however, who speaks up. "We've kind of been over this already," he says. "As long as you don't seal the mask it'll keep adding faces so the person will be a kind of blend of all of them."<br/>
<br/>
"So he just puts the mask on all of us?" Joe asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, if he wants to be a sophomore," Caleb explains. "It's just a theory but I think it's a good one at least. But the way I assume it works is that it uses the first person as a template. So say we put the mask on Joe, but then put it on me and Will and, I don't know, Patterson then the end result will still be a sophomore. It'll just be a sophomore that has features from some seniors."<br/>
<br/>
"Well that'd just leave you and me then," you point out. "And no offense but if I'm going to be a new guy I want to at least look a little better."<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, if I were in your shoes I'd feel the same way," Caleb says. "We just have to find some of the better looking seniors and you're good."<br/>
<br/>
Everyone seems to agree that's the best way to go but you notice that Evie's looking a bit uncomfortable. Melanie seems to notice too and she's the one who talks. "I don't really think it's going to be awkward or anything if you were a sophomore though," she says "Leaving these guys on their own is probably a bad idea."<br/>
<br/>
"You guys would be fine with me using your faces?" you ask the boys. There's no objections. You look over at Caleb and all he can do is shrug; it's not his decision. Melanie's probably right but you still want to be a senior as well.<br/>
<br/>
"What about getting me into school?" you ask as you try to delay choosing and give yourself a minute. "I mean I made my decision but still..."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb looks at Kim and Kim in turn looks at him. Nothing's said for moment before Kim turns back to you. "Caleb and I will figure something out," she says. "In the mean time, what are you going to do for faces?"</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213241113
author_id: rugal
title: Preparing For the New Girl
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Is this everyone?" Kim asks as she surveys the relative crowd of people.<br/>
<br/>
It's a little after noon on Saturday and a group is gathered inside the room you've been renting at the Donna Motor Courts. It's a rather large group as well. There's yourself and Kim of course, plus Caleb. In addition Bhodi, Justin, Grant, Andy and Joe are here too. None of that's a surprise, they've been your main conspirators for lack of a better term. No the real surprise comes in the form of three more people: Paulina, Melanie and, to your even larger shock, Evie are all here.<br/>
<br/>
"We're missing two," you tell her. "Lindsay and Mrs. Matthias aren't here."<br/>
<br/>
Kim nods. "Well if they couldn't make it--" she starts.<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, it was by our choice," Caleb cuts her off. "Marianne's sort of being kept separate. You know, adult and all. She doesn't want a bunch of kids telling her what to do."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," Kim simply states.<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay would be against it no matter what," Caleb tells her.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Joe adds, "she's already demanding the book so she can get rid of it. She'd just tell us to put everyone back and be done with it."<br/>
<br/>
"No matter how screwed up everything's gotten," you grumble.<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay won't be a problem," Paulina jumps in to your surprise. "If she asks, we'll just say that Bhodi gave the book to me so I could get rid of it. I wouldn't want it around after what it did to my friend after all."<br/>
<br/>
"So what do we tell her about where I end up? She'll need to know that."<br/>
<br/>
"Does she?" Paulina asks. You don't know her too well but it's a side of her you're surprised to see.<br/>
<br/>
"It'd be a good idea to at least let her know," Kim states. "But after we've already done it. She can't do anything about a fait accompli. We do it," she points to Paulina, "then go with what she said."<br/>
<br/>
"We're keeping the book?" asks Andy.<br/>
<br/>
"You can't just throw a magical tome in front of people and not expect them to want to go through it," Kim declares. "But we'll do it carefully. At least one of us," she motions between yourself, herelf and Caleb, "will need to be present and everyone will have to be at least aware of what's going on. It'd probably be best to set up a group text once we're ready to go through the book."<br/>
<br/>
You're impressed on the one hand but on the other you probably shouldn't be. It's the type of take charge attitude and foresight you'd expect from someone who's gotten to where Kim has managed to get. Would you have been this on the ball if you had put that mask on her and taken up her identity? Maybe, maybe not but it's all moot now and you're definitely glad that you were able to be truthful with her.<br/>
<br/>
"But we're getting ahead of ourselves," she says as she turns her attention back towards you. "First thing's first, we need to get you back in the game. Have you figured out what you want to do?"<br/>
<br/>
Yes, it's that time. You've been dreading it yet you've also been anticipating it. You were thinking about it all last night, you were thinking about it for most of the morning. Only a little bit before everyone started arriving did you finally come to a decision. You know that you can't back out of it this time. Whatever you choose is what you're stuck with but that's for the best anyway. Your old life is gone so there's not really anything to go back to. Best to start a new one.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you nod. "It'll be best if we just create a new identity entirely. A girl."<br/>
<br/>
Everyone's eyes go wide at that.<br/>
<br/>
"I can understand wanting a new identity, but..." Kim says in disbelief.<br/>
<br/>
"I know, but I figure if I want to hang around you without rumors spreading then it's probably the best bet," you tell her. You then look over to where the girls are. "Besides, I want to make it up to Evie too. If I'm a girl I can hang around her without it being awkward."<br/>
<br/>
Evie looks surpised at that and shifts nervously but it's Grant who speaks. "What, like she'd develop a thing for you?" he laughs. "Oh man, I don't think that's happening though. No offense or anything dude but, uh, I just don't see it."<br/>
<br/>
It's Melanie who casts a hard look in his direction. "Well guys are idiots anyway so I think that's a great idea," she says. Grant shrinks back a bit at the force of her words.<br/>
<br/>
"So how's this going to work anyway?" asks Justin. "Not like you can just create a person out of thin air."<br/>
<br/>
It's Caleb, however, who speaks up. "We've kind of been over this already," he says. "As long as you don't seal the mask it'll keep adding faces so the person will be a kind of blend of all of them. Now this is just a guess but it probably uses the first person to put it on as the template."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" asks Kim.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, so if we take a blank mask and Will puts it on, then we add a couple of girls to the mask then the result would still be male because Will was the first person to put it on so everything's building on top of that," he explains. "So maybe he'd look really, really effeminate but he'd still be a he. Like I said it's a guess but it's the kind of guess that doesn't seem too farfetched."<br/>
<br/>
"So he just puts the mask on us then," Paulina says as she points at herself, Melanie and Evie.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, if he wants to be a sophomore," Caleb replies. "Like I said, it's probably using the first person as a base so even if we added a bunch of seniors afterwards the resulting person would probably still look around your guys' age."<br/>
<br/>
"I could put it on first," Kim says, "then we could use them."<br/>
<br/>
"Or we can just put it on some other girls from school," Caleb counters. "I don't think Evie or Melanie are going to want Will borrowing their faces."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't mind," Evie says with a quiet but surprisingly strong amount of determination.<br/>
<br/>
Melanie looks at her, a look on her face of curious contemplation. "Yeah, I don't mind either," she says. "It won't be <i>us</i> really. Besides, he helped us so we should return the favor."<br/>
<br/>
"What about getting me into school?" you ask. "I mean I made my decision but still..."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb looks at Kim and Kim in turn looks at him. Nothing's said for moment before Kim turns back to you. "Caleb and I will figure something out," she says. "In the mean time, what are you going to do for faces?"</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132411131
author_id: rugal
title: The Sophomore Chimera
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You were hoping to be a senior and when you'd first decided on making up an identity it was to be as a senior guy. Both because, well, you weren't all that interested in repeating half of high school over again and you wanted to remain with your friends, all of your friends, and see what you could do with a fresh start. You were also interested in Kim. If you were more handsome, a little more popular, if you had the brain of someone a little more outgoing would she be into you? Could you have actually had something with her?<br/>
<br/>
But the sophomores, immature as they may be, are your friends too you realize. Bhodi and Joe and the others could've easily used the initial request to make masks for them as a trap but they didn't and been on your side every step of the way. You were reluctant about the girls too assuming they'd be well and truly pissed at you. It's understandable, even on Lindsay's part, but it was to your shock to not only see them (well, three of them) here but that they all seem to be on your side as well.<br/>
<br/>
Through all the bitching, moaning and headaches they've shown you a lot of trust and have had your back. So it's only right that you show them the same loyalty in return and stick by them. Especially to Evie. You really cocked things up for her and she's been so timid and shy since you got her, much moreso than normal, that she's probably still a little messed up from the experience. So for her sake as well it's best that you stay close.<br/>
<br/>
"We can use the girls," you say as you nod towards the three of them, "that is, if they're they're fine with it."<br/>
<br/>
All three of them look at each other for a moment before Melanie, on behalf of the other two, speaks up. "Yeah, it's fine," she declares before looking again at the other two. "So which of us goes first?"<br/>
<br/>
"Um, I said I didn't mind so I'll do it," Evie states.<br/>
<br/>
Everyone looks at her but Melanie, taking charge in the way she's been doing the entire time, steps up once more. "Okay, well I don't think all of us need to be here," she says.<br/>
<br/>
Kim eyes her for a moment but nods. "Right, we'll get together tomorrow or on Monday maybe. You two," she points out Andy and Justin, "should probably get back in your own masks. Out in your cars since I don't think Will wants to wait for you guys to, um, change first."<br/>
<br/>
Andy and Justin had shed their new disguises -- Andrew Webb and Ethan Clayborne respectively -- after they got here at Kim's insistence. Being detail-oriented she wanted to know who she was really dealing with beneath the masks. Both of them acquiesce (probably feeling, and probably correctly too, that they couldn't really argue) and and leave along with the rest of the boys leaving just the girls, yourself, Kim and Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
Melanie and Paulina are next to go. "We'll be back," Melanie says. "You're going to need something to wear for the moment and I've got some gym clothes that should hold you over for a minute. Paulina's going to come with me to get them, shouldn't take too long."<br/>
<br/>
"I am?" Paulina asks in confusion but Melanie nudges her in the side. "Right, yeah. Don't worry Evie we'll be back soon."<br/>
<br/>
Once the two of them are gone Caleb and Kim confirm that they're going to go out somewhere to figure out what to do about getting you back in school. She gives you her number before remembering that you're sans phone right now. She'll figure something out there too but for now just call her on the landline once you're done.<br/>
<br/>
Then they're gone leaving you alone with Evie.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm surprised you're so gung ho about this," you tell her not being very sure of what to say,<br/>
<br/>
She's silent for a moment as she regards you and you're not quite sure what she's thinking. "It's like Melanie said," she finally says, "you helped me out so I figure that it's only right to help you out."<br/>
<br/>
"You should've never been in that spot in the first place," you tell her as you take a seat on the bed. "I shouldn't really be in this spot either. It was my own weakness and indecision that screwed everything up."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you pulled through when it counted," she tells you. "Mel told me you were the one who took all the initiative in planning and doing everything. Doing that, you know, you kind have to be strong and decisive."<br/>
<br/>
She's obviously trying to pick your spirits up and gives you a friendlier smile than you'd expect. You can see why her friends wanted her back so badly, even beyond the fact that she's their friend. When she should be thinking more of herself she's putting others first. It makes you feel even worse about what you did to her. But she doesn't give you time to dwell on it because she picks up the bag that sits next to you, digs through it and pulls out the blank mask.<br/>
<br/>
"This is what you use, right?" she asks as she looks at it. "I just put this on?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're going to want to lay down first," you tell her. You dig through the bag yourself and pull out the brain band. "You're going to need this too," you say as you show it to her. "It copies the mind and if I'm going to be a girl..."<br/>
<br/>
She takes it from you, looks at it and hands it back. "You'll have to find someone else to use it on," she tells you. "I know you, um, had everything for a little bit but I'd still rather if you didn't have me in there with you."<br/>
<br/>
But taking your advice she lays down, grabs the mask and puts it to her face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You get dressed in the clothes that Melanie provided for you: just a simple pair of running shorts and a loose t-shirt that she uses both for exercising and lounging. She was right in that that they do fit you well enough, though since she makes up part of this gestalt being you've become it makes sense she'd at least have an idea. Though her mind tells you that she's generally good at judging this sort of stuff in general.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, it's Melanie's mind that you're using in the band and though you would've rather had a Westside sophomore's mind you didn't have a choice. Evie already refused and Paulina did so as well though was cagey in her reasoning. So it was left to Melanie who for her part didn't seem to mind. Though thinking about it, if you're going to play the part of the new girl it's probably better that you don't have as intimate a knowledge of sophomore class.<br/>
<br/>
And just who is this new girl?<br/>
<br/>
Well she's got a bright smile and dark eyes that squint when you show it but show a warm curiosity when you don't. Her skin has the hint of a tan to it as if she spends a more than a bit of time outside, likely coming from Evie who's own skin shows the effect of daily outdoor practices. She's also where your chocolate colored hair comes from.<br/>
<br/>
But there are bits and pieces of the other girls there too. You have height as both Paulina and Melanie are a little on the taller side as well and so you're probably around even with the latter. In body shape you're athletic though closer to Melanie than the much slimmer Evie and Paulina. It's the type of body made for gliding through a pool and you half-seriously wonder if it might be a good idea to see if there are spots on the swim team. You'll need to establish yourself somewhere and fast.<br/>
<br/>
It's a sharp observation born from Melanie's own perceptions and with them you can't help but think that you would look sharp in a one-piece swimsuit. Though of course to join any team you'd need a name and focusing on that word, sharp, gives you a good one. Though maybe you'll modify it a bit; Sharpe sounds nice. But what about a first name?<br/>
<br/>
You're still thinking about it as you exit the bathroom. Melanie looks up from her phone. She was the last person you copied and she's stayed with you because you'll be staying with her. Not tonight but starting tomorrow. Because a motel on the other side of town with no car will make getting to school hard and Melanie, surprisingly enough, lives closer to Westside than she does her own school. And according to her, her parents are very laid back and hands off though there is a cover story cooked up if they ask.<br/>
<br/>
It's been to your surprise that she's been on top of everything today and she's done a lot to help you. Though with her brain you're getting an idea as to why and that there's a bit of a benignly ulterior motive based largely on her own suspicions of... certain things. Things that you won't pry into with her unless she wants to talk.<br/>
<br/>
"Wow, it turned out well. I'm shocked. I was half-expecting you to look all weird and freaky," she says with a grin. But it soon leaves her face. "Ugh, but when the guys or I guess their... doubles see you..." She can do nothing but shake her head. "So what are we going to call you anyway?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sharpe?"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, that's a last name. But we'll need a first name too, durr."<br/>
<br/>
"I only just thought of <i>that</i>," you protest but she's right. First name, first name. What are some ones you've always liked? "Katie?" you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. But you don't hate it. "Katie Sharpe," you say and you like the way it sounds.<br/>
<br/>
"Figured you'd go with something a little closer to... whatever," Melanie shrugs. "Anyway, I was just talking to Lindsay. I kind of told her we helped you find some place because I figure she needs to know no matter what Paulina thinks. You don't have to tell her we're keeping the book but you should at least explain everything else to her; let her know what's going on."<br/>
<br/>
You've been dreading it to be honest, having to talk with confront Lindsay. You can imagine she'll be her usual pleasant self and while Melanie's probably right you really don't know if you want to deal with her just yet.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324111311
author_id: rugal
title: The Dreaded Meeting
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Despite your misgivings however you know that she's right. Maybe it's her own personality influencing you as well.<br/>
<br/>
Melanie likes openness and honesty and isn't one for being sneaky and cagey. Though this does cause a fair amount of problems with her. In a general sense she's developed a reputation as someone who can't keep a secret and if you tell her something in confidence everyone else will know by the end of the day. Which isn't totally true, she's got enough common sense to keep secret what needs to stay secret. But her idea of what needs to stay secret isn't always the same as everyone else's.<br/>
<br/>
It also has a habit of leading her and Paulina, who's as cagey as they come, into frequent disagreements. Usually minor ones but on a few occasions they've gotten big and were Evie not there to smooth things over cracks in the relationship would've likely formed a long time ago. Not that Melanie hates or dislikes Paulina. She likes her plenty and Paulina's largely a nice girl. But there's a cynical, mysterious edge to the girl that unsettles Melanie at times too. Like she's got skeletons she doesn't want getting out.<br/>
<br/>
The type of thing where Melanie wishes she would be more open. But that bit of mystery makes Melanie wonder if there's a trust issue and she has to think of other things lest she start getting too frustrated.<br/>
<br/>
That's why Melanie likes Lindsay who's about as open a book as a person gets. Sure she can be surly and abrasive but at the same time there's no ambiguity with her and one always knows what's going on and where they stand.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, okay," you tell her. "You're right but I'm not looking forward to it."<br/>
<br/>
"Better to rip the band-aid off," she says as she grabs her purse and keys.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You walk into Don's Donuts with a bit of trepidation. Not because of the location, chosen because of proximity to Lindsay's house, which is one you've always liked. That's something you and your borrowed brain agree on. But because you spot <i>her</i>. Lindsay sitting in a booth, idly looking at her phone. You could've just picked her up but that was a no-go from Melanie because if there were blow ups she didn't want her car to be ground zero.<br/>
<br/>
She also wanted this to be between you and Lindsay as she has nothing to work out with the latter. She's not just leaving you high and dry, she's just taken a seat as far away as possible while still presumably being able to keep watch.<br/>
<br/>
Cautiously then you approach the booth until you're right on top of it. "Lindsay?" you say in an unsure voice as, with hesitance, you take your seat across from her. Lindsay looks up from her phone to eye you queerly. She's taking you in, examining you and likely confused as to why this random girl is addressing her.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" she asks as if to confirm your suspicions.<br/>
<br/>
"Melanie said it'd be a good idea if we talked."<br/>
<br/>
"Melanie said..." But she stops. She eyes you again, this time with more curiosity. And you can tell realization is setting in because you see her expression harden. "Who'd you replace?" she asks with undisguised scorn.<br/>
<br/>
"Nice to see you too," you respond, "and I didn't replace anyone."<br/>
<br/>
"Bullshit," Lindsay replies. "I know how the masks work."<br/>
<br/>
"Melanie didn't tell you?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Of course she didn't, you realize. This is probably one of those situations where she felt being a little cagey and letting Lindsay find out on her own would be far more effective than just telling her all the details. That and, at times, Melanie can have a mischievous streak and watching you squirm while you try to tell Lindsay why you picked a sophomore girl as your new identity is the type of thing she'd find funny.<br/>
<br/>
"All she told me was that you used the godforsaken book to get a new face," she answers without attempting to hide her distaste at the idea.<br/>
<br/>
"I couldn't stay holed up in a motel room all day every day," you protest.<br/>
<br/>
But Lindsay's quick to counter. "You <i>could've</i> just put everything back," she states. "Instead you have to shove some other person under another mask and steal <i>their</i> life because you're too much of a fucking coward to own up to your mistakes."<br/>
<br/>
"I took responsibility when I got Evie back," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"After we threatened you."<br/>
<br/>
"Those dumb threats didn't mean anything," you say and hope she doesn't call you on your bluff. "I could've left her there. I could've put a mask on <i>you</i> and stolen <i>your</i> life or grabbed the book and skipped town entirely. But I didn't because I realized that fixing my screw up was the right thing to do. I risked my ass dealing with paranoid drug dealers to get her back. I gave up <i>my</i> life getting her back."<br/>
<br/>
"You look pretty alive to me," she snorts.<br/>
<br/>
"I am <i>now</i> but Will Prescott's life belongs to someone else. Shit's changed so much that going back's impossible."<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay just shakes her head in frustration. "Alright, then who am I talking to?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Katie Sharpe."<br/>
<br/>
"Never heard of her," she replies dismissively.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course you haven't. She didn't exist until an hour ago."<br/>
<br/>
Lindsay's eyes narrow. For a solid minute she's quiet, regarding you harshly. "What the <i>hell</i> are you even talking about?" she finally asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll give you the short version," you tell her. "I was staying up at the Donna and ran into, you know Kim Walsh right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Everyone knows her. Even the freshmen."<br/>
<br/>
You nod and then go into the version of the story Melanie helped you cook up on the drive out here. In this telling, Kim's reputation was well earned and she broke you down into confessing what had happened and to your surprise she agreed to help. She knew that you needed to get out as well but with your life gone and with the masks explained to her she helped you hit on the idea of copying a few people into one mask, into a new composite identity.<br/>
<br/>
"Using..."<br/>
<br/>
"Evie," you tell her and immediately go on the defense. "She was the first one to volunteer actually. Then Paulina and Melanie. And I've got one of of those mind bands in here with Melanie's brain to help me, you know..."<br/>
<br/>
"This is ridiculous," Lindsay throws her hands up but the hostility has largely faded from her voice and demeanor. "So you're <i>still</i> using the book?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just this one last time," you tell her. "Paulina insisted she take the book from Bhodi afterwards because she didn't trust the boys with it. You know how they are."<br/>
<br/>
"Thankfully she's actually sensible," Lindsay states as she studies you. "And I guess I can sort of see the others in you if I look really, really hard. So what are you going to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kim and Caleb are working on a way to get me enrolled at Westside. After that I guess it's whatever. This is my life now so I'll have to figure it out."<br/>
<br/>
"Consider it punishment for messing with shit you shouldn't have been messing with," she tells you. "But you got a second chance too so I'd highly advise not messing this one up because I doubt you're going to get a third. I won't let you get one." She regards you once more. "Katie, huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"You can still call me Will if you want."<br/>
<br/>
But Lindsay just shakes her head. "Like you said, Will's someone else," she states. Again she regards you. Her head shakes once more and you see her shoulders slump.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks for getting Evie back," she says, "and... sorry for being a bitch."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"That went a lot better than I thought," you say as you exit the parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you guys were going to rip each other's throats out for a second," Melanie laughs. "But Lindsay's actually nice. She just is who she is and she was under a lot of stress."<br/>
<br/>
"That I put her under."<br/>
<br/>
"What's done is done," she says. "I guess seeing the position you were in softened her up though."<br/>
<br/>
"You want to talk about stressed," you lean back in the passenger seat. "I kind of want to just get back to the Donna and take a very hot bath. It's been a long day."<br/>
<br/>
"There's still plenty of it left, too." Melanie glances at you out of the corner of her eye and you see her smile. "Mall's still open and you need way more to wear than my hand-me-downs."<br/>
<br/>
"Clothes shopping?" you bolt up in surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, and just hanging out there in general. Just focus all your mental energy on finding some good outfits."<br/>
<br/>
It's solid enough reasoning though from peeking into her mind you know that it's something that Melanie enjoys as well. Being fashionable, finding nice outfits. It always picks her up and, again, maybe it's the influence of her personality but you're feeling very, very open to the idea too and she's right, you do need a wardrobe. You're not really short on cash right now either.<br/>
<br/>
But at the same time a hot bath and a nap until Kim comes buy is also sounding awfully tempting.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213241113112
author_id: rugal
title: The Muskovite
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You tell Melanie to stop by the Donna which causes her to grunt in disappointment. You tell her to leave the car running as you dash back to your room to grab cash from the briefcase before locking back up. "Hold onto this for me?" you say as you hand the money over to her, a necessity as you don't have anything to carry it in.<br/>
<br/>
She lets out a whistle as she takes it. "Where'd you get this from?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"You know the guy I was impersonating when I left to get Evie? Let's just say I borrowed it from him."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus Christ!" she replies with a laugh of amused disbelief. "You're insane you know that? But I'm kind of glad we got mixed up with you since at least you're not boring."<br/>
<br/>
"The crazy times are over and done with," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"For you maybe, who knows what the Doofus Gang is going to get up to though," she sighs.<br/>
<br/>
"They're that annoying?"<br/>
<br/>
"You've been around them," she answers. "I wouldn't hang around if I hated them or anything but they're just immature, especially when you put all of them together. Well, maybe Justin a little less so." She looks at you with a knowing smirk. "Between us if I didn't already have a boyfriend..." she trails off and giggles.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, her mind tells you that she finds Justin to be handsome in his own way but what she really likes is quietness he has to him. He's nice and dependable but can come off as a bit aloof and Melanie has more than once fantasized about seeing what's behind the barriers he's erected... and seeing what's in his pants. But she's not going to wait for him either though you half-suspect the stormy relationship with her boyfriend -- periods of intense intimacy followed by a cooling period, arguing, separation and repeat -- might very well be because she probably is still waiting for him deep down.<br/>
<br/>
"You've got no problem telling me that you want to jump his bones?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
She waves it off though. "You've got everything I've got up there so it's not like I can really hide it from you," she tells you. "It's pretty nice not having to keep a secret like that."<br/>
<br/>
"You could just tell him."<br/>
<br/>
"No way!" she exclaims as she starts the car. "The girl shouldn't be the one having to make the move. Where's the romance in that?"<br/>
<br/>
"You haven't even talked to the girls about it."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh jeez, I can't do that either!" she exclaims and you notice her body language reflecting a sudden nervous bashfulness. "I kind of feel like I could mess everything up by introducing romance into our group."<br/>
<br/>
"Paulina and Bhodi," you tick off your fingers, "Andy is one hundred percent into Evie. I saw Grant staring at your boobs back at the motel."<br/>
<br/>
"Grant stares at every girl's boobs," she replies dismissively. "Ohmygawd! Joe was telling me that he was going to turn himself into Kaylee too!"<br/>
<br/>
"They were saying before you got there that it's because she's popular so she'd be able to help Evie."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't believe that right?" she asks. "First, he definitely has a thing for Kaylee. Second, he has a bigger thing for teammate Wendy and the two of them are like..." she holds up her right hand and twists the index and middle fingers around one another. "Third, I should've walloped him because Kaylee's my friend and if I'd known it was her before all of these decisions were made..."<br/>
<br/>
She lets out a curse as she hits the steering wheel in frustration.<br/>
<br/>
Therein lies one of the contradictions that makes up Melanie Heath. She's sensible and whether she knows it or not she's got a natural take charge attitude and the ability to lead others. But her emotions can get worked up rather easily, especially when she's playing party girl and she's had one drink too many, and when they do the result isn't good. Usually it means a fight with her boyfriend, then flirting (and sometimes sloppily making out) with another boy until things get patched up... usually after Owen -- that is Owen Bradley, a member of Eastman's JV soccer team and a notorious playboy himself -- has had his own dalliance.<br/>
<br/>
"Well if I'd known I would've probably told him to find someone else," you say. "But, uh, how many people from Westside are you friends with anyway?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The answer turns out to be more than you'd have expected because after coming out of one store with a bag of clothes as well as a sensible (and sensibly priced) purse that you're putting to immediate use you're called out to by a someone your borrowed mind immediately recognizes as Allison Day, an auburn-haired girl with a bright expression who happens to be a member of Westside's swim team.<br/>
<br/>
In turn, Melanie greets her warmly and the two chat for a moment before Allison takes notice of you which leads to Melanie introducing the both of you and the short version of the story you've both been crafting for your identity. You worry that it might be a tad bit unbelievable but if it is then Allison doesn't call you on it. Instead she says that "some of the others" went off to the food court (well not Abigail Phillips, she dragged her boyfriend, Lucas Bell, to another store) and since she was about to head over herself maybe the both of you could come with her. Melanie accepts on both of your behalves.<br/>
<br/>
It's at this point that you almost want to start comparing her to Catherine Muskov. Like a Catherine in training.<br/>
<br/>
You find the table, well two tables pushed together really, where Allison's friends are sitting and head over to join them. There's Ava Price who's on the volleyball team, Miranda Estrada who's a teammate of Evie's and... you almost double take when you see her come back from emptying her tray, even though Melanie knows her well.<br/>
<br/>
Alice Meehan, who plays on the girl's JV basketball team with Paulina, is someone who's impossible not to notice; when you're as big as her how could anyone ignore you? And you don't mean big as in developed either (though she's certainly not lacking there) but rather she's tall. Very tall. She has to be hovering around six feet which, for a sophomore girl, is pretty impressive. But her face, which still looks young, betrays her height as does her giggly and very girly personality as you can't help but notice the Disney characters and princesses that decorate her messenger bag.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Katie!" Allison perks up and casts that bright expression on you as the conversation starts to lull. "So you were telling me about, like, where you came from and stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, well," you look over at Melanie for assistance but realize that she's leaving you to fend for yourself. This is going to be your first test in trying to pass yourself off as this person you've created. "I can't really say where I'm from exactly," you admit, "because my parents traveled a lot because of their, uh, photography work? I never really stayed anywhere more than a year or two."<br/>
<br/>
You're unsure as you say it but maybe that gives you a bit of credibility because that simply draws a lot of "oohs" from the other girls. You figure that does keep you from having to go too much into places you've never seen.<br/>
<br/>
"Still, that's gotta suck though," Ava says as she picks at some mashed potatoes. "Like you just start making friends and then you're gone. I don't think we'd really know that feeling."<br/>
<br/>
"Well I only came here in seventh grade," Miranda says, "but my family didn't move around a lot either so it's not the same thing I guess."<br/>
<br/>
"But you probably got to see a lot of cool places though, right?" asks Allison.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," you answer, "but it's mostly just cities and stuff. Like I lived in, uh, Alabama before I moved here? That was kind of nice because I was right on the coast so I could go to the beach and swim in the gulf."<br/>
<br/>
"Ooh, yeah. Your skin is like... so tan!" Alice marvels. "I burn way too easy."<br/>
<br/>
"You probably saw some foreign places right?" asks Miranda.<br/>
<br/>
But you shake your head and you're thankful that Melanie's a quick thinker because it's helping you big time here. "Unless you consider Indiana foreign then no. That's actually why I'm here," you say. "Because my parents got work in... Chile I think? Like their first foreign deal. But they didn't want to uproot me that much and they're friends of Melanie's family so..."<br/>
<br/>
"They pawned you off," Miranda says.<br/>
<br/>
"You're totally making it sound worse than it is!" Alice exclaims.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, sorry! I didn't mean it like that," Miranda apologizes but you wave off her concern.<br/>
<br/>
"You said you swam?" Allison asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, uh, for fun yeah," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, the swim team's always looking for members."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, me?!" you ask wide-eyed. "Oh no, I couldn't. I'm not really a swimmer like, um, you. I probably did more sunbathing than swimming. Besides they're still getting the details of my enrollment worked out. I don't even have my schedule yet."<br/>
<br/>
Allison's expression remains friendly. "Well, a lot of us on the team are kind of like you. Well the sophomores anyway," she states. "But I can talk to Andrea and she'd probably be able to have you come out tomorrow to try out." Her expression turns a little more serious and dour. "Truth be told, Westside can be a snake pit and as the new girl everyone's going to want to play you. You'll want people around that'll have your back, trust me."</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132411131121
author_id: rugal
title: Action and Inaction
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I appreciate the offer and all but," you look at Allison. Her expression is serious but it doesn't feel like she's pressuring you. It's a sympathetic seriousness. "But you really think I could make the team?"<br/>
<br/>
"As a sophomore? Oh yeah, no problem," she answers.<br/>
<br/>
"It's the juniors and seniors that are doing most of the real stuff," Ava states which draws a sharp look from Miranda. "What? That's just how it is. The volleyball team's the same and Ellie's like the nicest girl ever. We don't have JV teams or anything like you and Alice."<br/>
<br/>
"Or me," Melanie adds.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah but you don't have to, like, crush her hopes like that," Miranda says.<br/>
<br/>
"Well it's true though," Allison states. "We're barely a step up from freshmen. We're just there to learn." She turns her attention back to you. "Really, all you have to do is show that you're willing to learn and you're good."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I mean if that's <i>all</i> that's expected," you say as you bite your lip nervously. But then you let out a large smile. "Oh, what the hell? Trying out can't hurt can it? Oh but what about other teams?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're all locked up," Miranda says.<br/>
<br/>
"Us too," adds Alice.<br/>
<br/>
"Most of the other teams are pretty set and strict about their roster numbers," Allison explains. "But the swim team is kind of, ugh and I totally don't mean this pun, but it's pretty fluid. Which is nice if you're a new kid because it's a pretty good way to ease into the rest of the school without having to deal with, well..."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, but you'd definitely know how to fit in right?" Alice asks but then catches her blunder. "Sheesh, no! I mean, uh, you're probably used to it and oh my gosh I am just sounding so insensitive right now!"<br/>
<br/>
"It's fine," you laugh. "It is pretty hard joining a new school and then having to find a spot where you fit in so if this makes it a little easier then I'm really super grateful for the chance."<br/>
<br/>
"The swim team's good, you'll see," Allison says. "We've usually got each other's backs and the seniors do a good job of looking out for us."<br/>
<br/>
"Andrea though," says Ava.<br/>
<br/>
"Andrea's nice," Allison counters. "But she's got her own stuff going on. She delegates us to Rachel and Rachel is really, really nice."<br/>
<br/>
"So what time would I have to be out there?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Probably before noon," Allison states. "Give me your number so I can text you."<br/>
<br/>
"Ugh, sorry but I can't. I just got a new phone but I forgot to grab it before I left this morning. I don't remember the number either," you "admit" sheepishly. "The airline lost my luggage and stuff so like, I've been really stressed and not thinking straight."<br/>
<br/>
The lie seems to work because that produces a chorus of of sympathetic cooing from the assembled girls before Allison says she'll make sure to text Melanie so she can get word to you. You settle in for more conversation for a little while longer and find that you're actually enjoying the rest of their company and despite all of the bullshit you're spewing "your life" they don't seem to find any of it really unbelievable either as nobody calls you on any of it.<br/>
<br/>
After a point you think you may actually be starting to believe your own stories and you're left wondering if, or when, you really will start thinking of yourself exclusively as your assumed identity.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my gosh, it was really nice meeting you Katie!" Alice exclaims as she pulls you into a friendly hug as everyone begins to leave to go off to other places for the evening (Abigail and Lucas never did return). "You're, like, so cool! I totally hope we can hang out some time."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, don't be a stranger," Miranda adds. "Hopefully we get some classes together."<br/>
<br/>
"I'd like that," you say in return. "It'll be nice going in with some friends. Totally puts me more at ease."<br/>
<br/>
Further goodbyes are exchanged and the group separates. You tell Melanie that they seem nice and she can only gush about how cool they are. You're still in awe at Alice's height which then somehow devolves into the mutually agreed position that she is totally adorable and is like the world's biggest little sister which morphs into further commentary on the other girls and Melanie's admitting that it's only a portion of the Westside students she knows though they're the ones, outside of the group you've been dealing with, that she's closest too.<br/>
<br/>
You muse to yourself that at this rate there might not have been any girls at Westside that Grant could've been and that Future Catherine Muskov label you've since attached to Melanie is looking more and more appropriate.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After leaving the mall, the conversation about your phone -- or lack thereof -- led you to stop and pick up a no-contract phone and plan because you weren't really sure what, if anything, Kim would have on that front and you'd rather make sure you had everything you needed for tomorrow. Which also necessitated going to another store just prior to leaving the mall to pick up a swimsuit. <br/>
<br/>
"So what was up with Allison?" you ask on the drive back to the Donna after finally getting your phone set up.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" Melanie asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," you shrug, "but her mood totally one-eightied for a minute there. She got pretty hung up on the whole 'it's good to have people who have your back' thing."<br/>
<br/>
"It's not like she's wrong. You probably know better than her what Westside's like."<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft! Yeah right," you reply. "I was way, way on the outskirts of everything with the other dorks and guys who don't really get noticed aside from the occasional bully. She probably knows more than I do."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess so," Melanie says. "I think she got hurt pretty bad over the summer. Like emotionally, not physically."<br/>
<br/>
"Boyfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"She wasn't with anyone, but she's never really talked about it" she explains. "I really wish she would though."<br/>
<br/>
"You can't force her to."<br/>
<br/>
"I know but I feel like I can't help her either if I don't know what's going on," she states.<br/>
<br/>
"Just being her friend is probably enough," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
She grunts at that however. "Just kind of being there hasn't done much of anything lately," she says in a bit of a sullen tone. "I couldn't help Evie with, you know, all that. I can't even really do anything about the guys she likes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Guys?"<br/>
<br/>
"Guy, sorry. This whole day's worn me out too."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe you need to start taking a little action," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"What, like break up Evie's crush and his girlfriend?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I mean we have ways of making it happen," you say half-jokingly, but you can tell by the way way her face is hardening that Melanie's not a fan of that. "But I just mean in general. Like with Justin."<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing's happening there," Melanie protests. "I already told you that it's pointless."<br/>
<br/>
"It's pointless because you want it to be pointless," you counter. "Like, are you just scared that he's going to turn you down or that you'll mess things up with everyone else? Do you just want to play around with other guys too?"<br/>
<br/>
"You tell me," she states defiantly. "You've got my brain."<br/>
<br/>
"And I'm not using it right now. You like people being open right? So I want you to be open with me and I want to hear it from your own mouth."<br/>
<br/>
"Then it's probably all of that, okay?" she huffs. "I like being around him and I think he likes being around me but I don't know if he <i>likes</i> being around me. I don't even know <i>who</i> he likes. He always keeps that stuff to himself."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're just going to keep stringing your boyfriend along because you're too nervous to make a move on the guy you really like?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not stringing him along," she replies defensively. "He's getting what he wants and yeah I'm having fun too but..." She pauses for a moment. "Look, if I say something to Justin and he says yes then that's really awesome and we can, like, double date with Bhodi and Paulina and junk. But what if he says no and he likes someone else? Then everything's just kind of awkward and I don't know if I could keep hanging around. At least, not for a while."<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing like that happened with Paulina and Bhodi," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"Because there was no risk! It was totally obvious they both liked each other so them not doing anything probably made it more awkward anyway." She continues to stare straight ahead at the road, her face much more hardened than it's been all day. "I like that you're trying to help me and all but just ignore it, okay? There's no safe way to do it without throwing everything out of whack."<br/>
<br/>
So you take her advice and drop the issue for now, if only because she's done a lot for you today and you feel like you should respect her wishes for the moment. It'd probably be better if you just tabled any talk of her love life in general. Melanie's obstinate enough to where you know she's not going to listen to someone like you telling her what she should do.<br/>
<br/>
But a safe way to do it? Well there might actually be. You think back to what you'd joked to her about: using the masks to bust up Marc Garner and his girlfriend for Evie's sake. Even if you weren't wholly serious there, why not use some masks to help her? If the two of you can find out what girls Justin's current identity hangs around with maybe you could set it up for Melanie to take their identity as well. That way she'd be safe to pursue him with no messing up of the group dynamic, especially if nobody else knew.<br/>
<br/>
You have the material and those copied pages. It certainly wouldn't be hard for the two of you to keep this to yourselves.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324111311211
author_id: rugal
title: Swimming In Possibilities
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Much as you think something like that would help her, you're left to conclude that proposing it would probably be pushing an issue that Melanie clearly doesn't want pushed.<br/>
<br/>
Besides that, her own mind is telling you that while she's okay with the masks in theory in practice she doesn't like the idea of just stealing someone's life. If she did it, you realize, she'd probably want to tell the person she was replacing so that they know what's going on and all swapping is consensual. You're not sure if you like the idea of telling anyone else about the book either, your group's already big enough and that's more by accident than design.<br/>
<br/>
So wanting to respect her boundaries and her own sense of morality you decide that it'd be a bad idea to keep pressing the issue and put it aside for now. Melanie would probably rather win Justin over without having to use deception anyway.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you finally say in response to her. "sorry."<br/>
<br/>
"It's whatever," she states. "You don't have anyone you like?"<br/>
<br/>
"I did," you sigh. "But that ended at the start of school year."<br/>
<br/>
"Well what about now?"<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't really thought about it," you answer. "I don't really have a lot going for me anyway so it's not like anyone would've been interested back."<br/>
<br/>
"That's not true," she states. "I'm sure there's probably some people out there that wouldn't mind being with you. You're not terrible or anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah? Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not me if that's what you're thinking," she laughs. "I just mean in general. There's definitely girls out there for you. It probably would've been better if you were a guy so you could, you know, take advantage of that."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe," you reply, "but I guess I just don't want to worry about it right now. I'm fine with where I am."<br/>
<br/>
"That's true I guess," she says after a moment.<br/>
<br/>
You note the tinge of disappointment in her voice. Having her mind you know what she's getting at and there's a suspicion, an inkling on her part, but it's not something that you want to focus on. You know she herself has no interest in you -- if her words weren't enough her mind is -- but she wonders... ah, but it's too much for you to want to think about so you let the thought drift and indeed brush off any thoughts of romance or your love life. Getting settled in is going to be more important and take up too much of your mental faculties.<br/>
<br/>
There's tomorrow too.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks for sticking around today," you say with real sincerity.<br/>
<br/>
"Well someone had to," she replies. "You really did do a lot for us. Even beyond getting Evie back. I don't think Paulina and Bhodi would've actually been able to stop being all awkward without you forcing their hands like that."<br/>
<br/>
"Well it's not like I meant to do that."<br/>
<br/>
"Even still." Melanie's quiet for a moment but she gets playful look on her face. "So there's probably gonna be a party tomorrow with some Eastman people. You wanna come?"<br/>
<br/>
"Eastman? Wouldn't that be kind of awkward?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"No?" she replies. "I mean I'm sure there'll be some Westside people too. It's not, like, freakin' West Side Story or something."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll consider it I guess."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Back at the Donna you give your new phone's number to Melanie and tell her to get in touch if she needs anything. Without prompting on your end she tells you she's going to pass it on to the others too since you're probably not going to have their numbers. You thank her again for helping you out as she leaves to go home. You're left feeling really glad that it was someone like her you were with all day. Not that you have any issue with Evie or Paulina or the guys but Melanie's easygoing and has enough social awareness that everything went much smoother with her around. You're even starting off in a good position thanks to her.<br/>
<br/>
Well, potentially starting off anyway.<br/>
<br/>
But you've still got plenty of time until tomorrow and with nothing to really do you get to work on making some masks and bands. For what you're not actually sure but you figure that it's probably better to be prepared just in case something does come up.<br/>
<br/>
That something happens to be later in the night when Kim drops by.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my god, that's you Will?" she says as she closes the door behind her. She makes her way over to you, her face showing copious amounts of amazement as she looks you over. "If I wasn't already aware of everything I wouldn't believe you weren't this... this girl!"<br/>
<br/>
"You already saw Justin and Andy in their disguises," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"I know, but this is different because it's not just, you know, someone who already exists," she marvels, "or a guy turning into another guy. I'm pretty amazed that they can do something like this. It's still hard to believe. If I really didn't know better you couldn't tell me that this wasn't some real girl."<br/>
<br/>
"Well she is now," you reply. "She even has a name and everything."<br/>
<br/>
"Really."<br/>
<br/>
"Hi, my name's Katie Sharpe. I'm sixteen and my parents are photographers. I've lived in a lot of places but they recently took a gig overseas that was too good for them to pass up so I'm staying with Melanie's family since her parents and my parents are old friends." You flash her a bright, squinty-eyed smile and hold out your hand. "It's soooo nice to meet you!"<br/>
<br/>
Kim doesn't shake but does laugh. "You even came up with a backstory?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, Melanie came up with most of it," you admit. "We needed one. The name's mine though."<br/>
<br/>
"It's a little unbelievable don't you think?"<br/>
<br/>
"I worried about that too," you say. "But we ran into some of her friends at the mall and they seemed to buy it so I guess it's all good."<br/>
<br/>
"The mall?" she asks with amusement.<br/>
<br/>
"I needed clothes and Melanie was the one who offered," you shrug. "She really helped me out a lot today. She even offered up her mind for the band."<br/>
<br/>
"Good to know she's reliable then," Kim says as she she takes a seat. "So you're working on more masks?" she asks. "I can see them on the bed."<br/>
<br/>
"I need <i>something</i> to do," you state.<br/>
<br/>
"Well that's good because I'll need to take one of them," she declares as she picks one up. "Caleb and I figured out a way to get you enrolled. We just have to pay a visit to someone tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
"You're going to impersonate them?"<br/>
<br/>
But Kim shakes her head. "We're going to use that paste stuff so we can order them around for a little bit," she explains. "Just long enough to do what we need, then we're taking it off of them. Oh, and before I forget," she reaches into her purse and pulls out a phone. "I had an old one so if you need it..."<br/>
<br/>
But you show her your own phone. "Thanks but I'm good," you say.<br/>
<br/>
It's at that moment that you get a text that turns out to be from Allison just confirming that she got your number from Melanie. She also makes sure to tell you that Andrea wants it done between eleven and noon. Then you get a few more texts from the different guys, Evie, Paulina... then Ava and Miranda and Alice. Did Melanie give your number to <i>everyone</i>?<br/>
<br/>
"Looks like you're popular already," Kim titters. "I'll leave you alone for now then. I'll give Caleb your number too. Oh and text me what you want for a schedule when you get the chance. All goes well, you should be able to start Monday."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks," you say as you fall backwards onto the bed. "I've got a long day tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Oh god, my stomach's doing flips," you admit to Allison.<br/>
<br/>
You're at Westside in the natatorium's own locker room changing out into your swimsuit as you're just minutes away from your impromptu tryout. Since Allison's the one who put your name forward she felt it appropriate to come by, watch and give you a bit of moral support. Otherwise the only other people here are Andrea Varnsworth, due to being team captain, and Rachel Burton, since she works with the underclassmen.<br/>
<br/>
"You'll be fine," Allison states warmly. "I mean I know you're going to have nerves but it's kind of just a formality. Just show some basic swimming competence and you'll likely get in. Oh man though, I was just like you when I tried out so I totally know how you're feeling."<br/>
<br/>
She turns her back to you as she says this. Your eyes go to your bag which houses everything you've brought with you, most importantly a blank mind band. Try as you might to do otherwise you're getting inside your own head. You're starting to worry that you'll mess up. But you never attached Melanie's band to the mask, you're wearing it separately. That's what's given you an idea, then, to ensure you make it: copy Allison's mind onto the blank band and swap her mind in for Melanie's.<br/>
<br/>
It'd probably be enough to erase any worries you might have about not making it and you could always swap Melanie's back in afterwards. Besides, you're curious to know what happened to her over the summer if it's something so bad she doesn't want to talk about it. If you're going to be friends and teammates it'd probably be good to know.<br/>
<br/>
But then your thoughts go to the other big item in the bag: the mask. Why swap out just the mind when you can go the whole way? Setting up a new identity is hard after all and you're worried something might go wrong. But if you're someone else, someone like Allison, what do you have to worry about? Your mind will be copied enough onto Melanie's band that you should be able to attach it and golemize the mask which would be enough to avoid any suspicion.<br/>
<br/>
And if you wanted to know everything about Allison, what better way than to be Allison?<br/>
<br/>
But what are you even thinking? Doing either of those would likely constitute a betrayal of Melanie's trust; of everyone's trust. Allison's right of course, you'll be fine. Do you really want to destroy everyone's trust in you because of small bout of nervous paranoia?</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213241113112113
author_id: rugal
title: The Mermaid, the Dolphin and You
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Of course you don't so as quickly as the thought of replacing Allison arrives you allow it to leave. The same goes for using the mind band as what would that really get you? Allison's mind might help you navigate the waters of the pool but Melanie's will likely be a greater help in navigating the waters of high school social life.<br/>
<br/>
"You really think I'll be fine?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Allison turns back to and her expression and tone are encouraging. "I have total faith," she tells you.<br/>
<br/>
You laugh nervously. "That's a lot of faith," you reply. "But I appreciate the encouragement."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess we're kind of in the same boat, that's all," she says. "This is my first year swimming too. I haven't been doing it forever like Abby and I'm not just, like, freakishly natural like Heaven."<br/>
<br/>
That certainly surprises you as you'd have thought those on the team would've been doing it for a while. "So how'd you get into doing it anyway?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I guess I just felt like I needed to change things up," she explains. "Abby told me they were looking for people this year and we've been friends for a long time so I figured why not?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well that's making me feel a lot better. You know, if we're in similar positions and all."<br/>
<br/>
Allison pulls you into a friendly hug as you've finished changing. "You'll do great, don't worry," she says before ushering you out of the locker room.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're exhausted as you pull yourself out of the pool. You stand there panting, bent over and trying to catch your breath. You've never swam like that in your life... or swam much at all really. You had to rely on Melanie's own knowledge and technique and while she's better than you by virtue of being more athletic she's a soccer player, not a swimmer. How well did you do? You're not sure and the doubts are starting to creep back into your head once again.<br/>
<br/>
"Think we should have her go again?" asks one girl's voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I think she's done more than enough Andrea," comes another voice. "We went pretty long with her."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe you're right," replies the first voice. "Katie?"<br/>
<br/>
You look up and moreso than the adrenaline that's running through you or the cardio workout this has inevitably given you, it's being mere feet away from Andrea Varnsworth that's got your heart feeling like it's about to burst out of your chest. The swim team captain is one of the most desirable girls in the entire school with long dark dark hair, a large chest and a body shaped by the water that she effortlessly glides through the water like a raven-haired mermaid. But if her curves are soft, her demeanor is hard. She walks around the school with an air of cool indifference, like the worries of the school and its denizens deserve not even a first thought.<br/>
<br/>
It makes for a girl as inscrutable as she is beautiful... and more than a fair bit intimidating. Because even if you completely subsumed yourself in your new identity and erased every bit of you that was Will Prescott, Andrea's gaze staring a hole through you would be enough on its own to make your heart rate skyrocket.<br/>
<br/>
It's all you can do to mutter out a simple response as you continue to catch your breath. Your mind and heart are racing to the point where you don't even make out what you actually say.<br/>
<br/>
"You're not actually enrolled yet are you?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Ah, um, well they're working it out last I heard," you say. "I guess I should know by tonight at the latest what's up."<br/>
<br/>
Andrea regards you in a way that you can't quite figure out before moving to consult, out of ear shot, with Rachel Burton.<br/>
<br/>
Rachel is an AP girl in addition to being a member of the swim team. You've often times seen her in the company of other AP girls like Kelsey as well as the likes of the gossipy Deanna Showalter or her teammate Jamie Bornholm. You yourself don't really know her well beyond that though the few times you've talked to her she's seemed pretty decent. Certainly a far sight better than the condescending snobs that make up most of the rest of that clique.<br/>
<br/>
She looks back at you, then talks to Andrea once more before turning back at you. Her eyes, an icy blue, sparkle and her mouth forms into a wide smile before she turns back to Andrea once more. While they're making their decision Allison comes up next to you and places a comforting hand on your shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," Andrea states as the both of them make their way back over to you, "it's yours if you want it."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" is all, dumbfounded, you can say.<br/>
<br/>
"What she means," Rachel states, "is assuming everything goes through for you... welcome aboard. Congratulations."<br/>
<br/>
You can feel a look of disbelief come over your face and a smile start to creep in as Allison cheers and wraps her arms around your shoulders.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my god, Katie!" she exclaims excitedly. "See? I told you that you didn't have anything to worry about!"<br/>
<br/>
"You're raw and your technique can use refining but you've definitely got a lot of potential,' Andrea says and you're surprised to hear what sounds like a compliment. "Rachel does a lot of work with the underclassmen so be sure to listen to her. She knows what she's talking about."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh! Um, yes! I will!" you exclaim. "Thank you!"<br/>
<br/>
Andrea takes her leave at that point. Rachel begins to take her's as well but stops to give you a friendly clap on the shoulder. "You'll do well. See you on Monday," she says before taking following Andrea out of the gym.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I never felt so... so nervous in all my life!" you declare in excitement. "Oh my god, I thought my heart was going to jump right out of my chest. Is, um, Andrea? Is she <i>always</i> like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"More or less," Allison titters, "but you get used to it. Andrea's nice and she's incredibly supportive of all of us. Guys, girls, seniors, underclassmen, it doesn't matter. She's just... very intense."<br/>
<br/>
"What about Rachel? She seemed nice."<br/>
<br/>
"Ohmygawd, Rachel is," she pauses for a second, "you'll really like her. She's, like, the number two on the team even though she's not really the second best swimmer."<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't that how it usually works though?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, Rachel is in all of the advanced classes and she's just, like, really smart and organized and stuff. She keeps everything running smooth and does a lot of coaching and teaching for the sophomores and juniors. Well, the sophomores mostly." Allison laughs once more. "Actually, everyone kind of thinks of her like a dolphin because she <i>is</i> a good swimmer though and is, you know, smart."<br/>
<br/>
"So like a dolphin."<br/>
<br/>
"Right!" she exclaims. "We should really celebrate though. I was going to get together with Abby and some others for lunch and it'd be really cool if you joined. Uh, you know, if you want to. I mean if you've got other stuff you have to do that's fine."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, uh, I don't really I don't think," you tell her. "Melanie's off doing something with her boyfriend so--"<br/>
<br/>
But you're interrupted by your phone dinging. You mutter out a sorry before checking it and are surprised to see that it's a text from Joe.<br/>
<br/>
<i>this u will?</i> he asks and you send an affirmative. <i>oh damn! melanie said u were trying out for the swim team?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>yeah. im still at the school,</i> you reply.<br/>
<br/>
<i>cool! well i think im gonna need ur help.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>for what?</i><br/>
<br/>
The response isn't quite as instantaneous. <i>got kaylee for grant but couldnt get alejandra. dont kno if we can at all.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>ur giving up?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>been thinkin of backups. i can get u and u can help me out?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>i dunno maybe? y not ask caleb?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>i did. he said ask u</i><br/>
<br/>
That fucker. <i>gimme a minute bcuz something else came up too,</i> you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
Outside of running down possible ideas you're not really sure what help you could be to Joe in trying to find another identity now that his main choice seems to be a bust. Also, you're worried about the awkwardness that might result from him seeing you since you don't think he or any of the guys have yet. But if they fucked up with Alejandra and Caleb's passing the buck to you maybe he really does need help.<br/>
<br/>
Of course maybe it'd be better to just talk to Caleb yourself and figure out what to do to help Joe. If you can get Bhodi to give you the book maybe the two of you can work on the book a little bit. That and it might be nice to just hang out with him for a little bit, especially if he's going to have to get used to seeing you in your current -- and maybe permanent -- guise.<br/>
<br/>
But you give a quick glance over to Allison. "Ah, someone's asking me if I want to do something too," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, if you want to I can't stop you," she replies. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
You're ready to exchange goodbyes but why should you? Since when was it your responsibility to make sure that Joe and the rest of them could perform the exchanges? If they need help Caleb should know what to do so you shouldn't really encourage his laziness either by acquiescing or giving him the ego boost of getting through another part of the book. Besides, Allison's been incredibly nice to you so far and you're not sure that you want to part ways just yet.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe it's the Melanie section of your head but you're definitely up for a friendly lunch.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132411131121131
author_id: rugal
title: Lunch For Fakes
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>sry man but i cant help you,</i> you text back.<br/>
<br/>
<i>wtf! why?!</i> comes the incredulous response.<br/>
<br/>
But you remain unfazed and decide to stand firm. <i>i've got stuff i need to do to get set up,</i> you reply. <i>talk to the others.</i><br/>
<br/>
Joe protests a little more but very quickly his resolve fads and he acquiesces to your decision, especially when you tell him that you're going to hang out with some people today and possibly tonight and you'll at least scout out some identities for him. Does he have a preference? He says not really though he hopes it's someone who can somewhat easily hang out with everyone else. Despite that he does send some names he's tossed around as back ups though, most meaning nothing to you as neither you nor Melanie know them much if at all.<br/>
<br/>
"Ugh, well <i>that's</i> over," you say to Allison with relief. "I turned them down and then, uh, I got some texts from my dad right after. He just wanted to see how things were going."<br/>
<br/>
"You're a total daddy's girl or something?" she asks with amusement.<br/>
<br/>
"Nuh uh," you shake your head. "Well not anymore than any other girl I guess. But my dad was, uh, the real emotional type? And I'm an only kid so, you know, he tried to dote on me a lot."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh jeez, yeah. Alice's dad is like that too." Allison smiles at the thought. "Like me and Miranda were at her place a few weeks ago and her dad was, like, just popping in all the time and would call her princess and stuff," she begins to giggle at the memory, "and Alice was all 'oh my gosh he's so embarrassing'! I mean he's super nice but like, she was not having any of it! It was so funny!"<br/>
<br/>
You laugh as well though less because you find the story amusing than the fact it makes you think of your own father, your real one and not this imaginary one you've cooked up, and image of <i>him</i> being the doting type. Would he have one one of those types if you had actually been born a girl? If you'd been Willa instead of Will? Well... no, probably not. But the image of it is certainly funny enough for that very reason.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, but it sounds like that was nothing then?" Allison asks but then gets an amused look on her face. "So who was that first person you were talking to? A boy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Something like that," you say as your mind goes into construction mode once more. "Just, you know, someone I ran into with Melanie after we left the mall. I gave him my number just to get him to go away."<br/>
<br/>
"Bad move, huh?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
You groan. "But I was pretty direct with him so hopefully he takes the hint," you reply. "Anyway, what's this lunch?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It turns out to be a get together at La Cocina Cantina, a latin restaurant near Keyserling and certainly the nicer of the two well known latin places in town. Though Taco Famoso should more accurately be called Taco Infamoso as their food is so poorly regarded that it's something of a social media challenge to see how many of their nasty tacos one can eat before their stomach goes into open and explosively violent rebellion. You get what you pay for, you suppose.<br/>
<br/>
La Cocina, on the other hand, is definitely not dingy and the food is much better regarded. It also tends to cost a little more but thankfully for your group you're friends of Miranda and as her parents own and run the restaurant you're able to get away with a discount. In fact it's a true family affair as, besides non-family employees, Miranda's parents also work in the kitchen while Miranda and her older brother Felipe work as servers.<br/>
<br/>
"I really wish he'd come over here," Allison sighs. Felipe, a member of Keyserling's soccer team, is regarded by nearly all of Miranda's girl friends as a total hunk. It's something you can feel from Melanie's own mind as well.<br/>
<br/>
"And do what? You're about five years too young for him," states Athena Thicke.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't think I didn't see you staring at his butt when he first walked by," grins Wendy Adler.<br/>
<br/>
"Who said I couldn't fantasize?" counters Athena. "At least I know it's just that."<br/>
<br/>
"You all can fantasize all you want. I've got the real deal," Ava says as she grabs the arm of her boyfriend, David Harrell, and wraps it around her. "He's all the hottie I need."<br/>
<br/>
It's a larger assortment of people than what you saw at the mall yesterday largely taken from the various athletic teams. Besides yourself and Allison, Athena is another member of the JV soccer team, David is on the JV football team and Wendy is a member of the track team along with...<br/>
<br/>
"What about you, Kaylee?" asks Allison. "Are you and Ethan, like, actually a thing now?"<br/>
<br/>
"What just because we came here together?" Kaylee Mercier giggles. "Um, we're just friends."<br/>
<br/>
"Right now anyway," Ethan Clayborne adds as he gives Kaylee a certain look. "I'm joking though. I'm not really ready for any kind of relationship with anyone.<br/>
<br/>
"You shouldn't let him play with you," Wendy says to Kaylee.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, if you know what you want you better grab it," she says as she smiles at David, "because if you don't... oh!" Her eyes go wide at that as she turns to Allison. "Sorry, I didn't mean..."<br/>
<br/>
But Allison brushes it off. "It's fine! I'm not going to, like, hyperventilate every time I see a couple," she states.<br/>
<br/>
"What about you new girl," Athena says as she turns to focus her hard gaze on you (she might have the worst case of resting bitch face you've ever seen), "did you have any boyfriends where you're from?"<br/>
<br/>
"Athena!" Allison interjects.<br/>
<br/>
"Or girlfriends?" adds Wendy.<br/>
<br/>
"Wendy!" Allison's interjection is, again, sharp.<br/>
<br/>
But you shake your head. "Um, I really didn't," you titter nervously. "I just didn't stay in any places long enough to get the chance, or really want to, connect with a boy like that."<br/>
<br/>
"That's so sad," Ava responds. "There's a lot of good guys here though. You should totally find one." She looks back at her boyfriend expectantly. "You know a lot of guys right? Tell them about Katie!"<br/>
<br/>
"I can't really play matchmaker with all your friends," David protests.<br/>
<br/>
"Well if Katie's looking for someone to help her get settled in," Ethan says while turning to you, a lascivious look on his face.<br/>
<br/>
But you immediately put the clamp down hard on that "Sorry but I'm just not interested in that right now. Really," you demure.<br/>
<br/>
It's in this manner that lunch continues. Talk of boys from the girls, of who's dating who, who broke up and who's hooked up before spilling off into other topics. The atmosphere is loose, light and easygoing and you find yourself, once more, at ease with this group much like with Melanie's friends from the mall. Your looks and Melanie's mind are certainly making the job of ingratiating yourself into this circle of popular sophomores a lot easier than you'd have anticipated.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Dude!" exclaims Kaylee, really Grant, once most of the group has left. Either gone home or, in Athena's case, stopping into the restroom. "You're, like, cute as hell! That thing really did a good job."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks?" you reply. "You're not looking so bad yourself. When did you get her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yesterday afternoon," Ethan, really Justin, answers.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, Kaylee has the hots for Ethan big time so it was really easy to get her to come over," adds Kaylee.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you settled in?" you ask her before turning to Ethan. "What about you?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're both good now," he answers. "It took us a while to start getting things at first but we've mostly got it. It's like flipping an off and on switch."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Kaylee giggles in the same way Grant does. "That's why we couldn't get Alejandra. I didn't really have any clue what to do at first. Then once I had everything," her face scrunches up. "Kaylee's never hung out with Alejandra really. The only way to get her would be through Miranda probably since they're on the same team."<br/>
<br/>
"We could just get Miranda for Joe," adds Ethan.<br/>
<br/>
"No go," you shake your head. "Melanie's mind is the one I'm using and I can tell you straight up she'd be pissed if you did that."<br/>
<br/>
You notice an inquisitive look from Ethan at the mention of Melanie's name but it's Kaylee who pushes on. "Well we need to do something for him," she says before she perks up. "Hey, go grab Athena! I know for a fact she's one of the girls who gives Evie shit on the team."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, right!" Ethan chimes in. "I don't think it's personal from what she's said. Just that Athena's got that 'everyone has to measure up to my standards' type of personality."<br/>
<br/>
"Your sure Joe would want her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I dunno," Kaylee admits. "She wouldn't be bad though right?"<br/>
<br/>
She'd certainly be a place where Joe could help out Evie and as a bonus, if she's part of the same circle you're going to be running in then it'll mean you'd all have little issue getting together. Well maybe not Andy since his current identity's name hasn't come up in any conversation with Allison's group of friends and you wonder if it might be better to talk Andy into another identity, but you can't just force identities on and off of the others.<br/>
<br/>
Which is probably why it'd be better to work from that list of names Joe sent you because he'd probably rather have one of them and you don't remember seeing Athena's name on it. There are a few names from Eastman that Melanie recognizes so maybe you could snag one of them at the party.<br/>
<br/>
And as you look at Ethan an additional thought occurs to you: maybe you should mention that party to Justin because if he's there and Melanie's there... well, it's a subtle way of helping to pay Melanie back for her help.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324112
title: Kim Welsh and the mask of permanence
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You are currently snuggled up under the covers of your bed with your pajamas on, reading under a book light with your black rimmed glasses on. A small strand of red hair falls in your face and you brush it behind your ear, because Kim Welsh has a mane of curly red hair, and now you are Kim Welsh. Thats why you are currently in her bed, wearing her pajamas in her house. You are currently reading the book that allowed you to become her with the use of magic masks. With your newly gained intelligence you've been speed reading through the "Book of Masks". Its a good thing Kim took a Latin language class online, because you've been using this new skill to secure your future as Kim Welsh and hers as Will Prescott. After all he can't disappear can he, nor would it be nice to keep her as a golem slave forever right?<br/>
<br/>
Its only been approximately 8 hours since you've donned your new identity and you've already felt like you were finally home. "Home is where the Heart Is" a sign Kim has says, hanging above her bed, and you definitely feel your heart here. ..<br/>
<br/>
The future the original Kim was crafting for herself was too desirable to pass up or to ever give away. Being the prude that she was her Harvard acceptance letter was something she did not tell anyone, rather the accomplishment alone was to be most proud of, so she thought. She would be attending Harvard for her bachelors degree then hopefully off to law school on a full scholarship the following fall, and she couldn't be more pleased with herself. All those late night hours of cramming before tests, the struggle of AP classes, running for senior class president, all while working a job, was in preparation for going to one of the most prestigious colleges in the U.S. this was her future, but now it's yours. All those painstaking hours of her life would now benefit you because you are now Kim Welsh. You look like her, sound like her, and have her memories. You know her Social Security number, credit card pin, and every detail about her life to successfully pass as the one and only Kim Welsh. <br/>
<br/>
It was about 8 hours when you had been your old self and in the heat of the moment had finally admitted that you liked her. Right there in the hotel room with the mask behind your back, it was a desperate plea to her to take the option of becoming your girlfriend, or have a mask slammed onto her face, of course she didn't know the outcome of either of those options as she had no idea you had a magic mask in your hands. She was taken back for a second upon your reveal to her and she had politely declined your offer to take her out on a date, stating she just wasn't ready to have a boyfriend. Of course it wasn't until after you had donned her mask and taken her memories that she really did not find you attractive at all, your personality was fine but you were not eye pleasing to her in the slightest. But her rejection of you doesn't bother you now, you realize you are much more happy being her then having her as a girlfriend would ever make you.<br/>
<br/>
This is what brings you to overlook the next chapter of the magic book, a spell that would be able to craft a permeant mask, a mask that can never be removed. A masked if placed on the real Kim would turn her permanently into a copy of the Will Prescott with all his and her old memories. This seems like a much more humane way of leaving Kim instead of keeping her as a golemized Will Prescott forever, while you go off to Harvard. She would be free to determine her own destiny even though it would be in the body and life of Will Prescott. <br/>
<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132413
author_id: seuzz
title: Anyone for Tennis?
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You've only one lead on the crowd that the new "Will Prescott" is hanging out with: Sean Wilcox, the guy at the Sunshine Diner who told you about a party where your doppelganger might be showing up. You look up Sean online.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Thank God for social media,</i> you think as you scroll through Instagram, Twitter, x2z, Facebook, and other places. You also shudder a little at how much is out there about your classmates, and how easy it is to find out about them. You yourself were never much into into social media—you kept in touch with Caleb and Keith, and with Carson Ioeger and a few other people mainly through texts—and a quick glance at your own profiles shows that Gordon hasn't updated them since his transformation. (Of course not. He doesn't know your passwords.) But Sean and his friends ...<br/>
<br/>
Well, Sean himself mostly shows up when tagged by others, and except for an occasional tweet about the latest anime series that he's fallen in love with, he hasn't got much to say about himself. By inference you glean that his family actually owns The Sunshine Diner, and that he's on the school tennis team. And through the team's webpage you find some of his friends.<br/>
<br/>
That Terry guy with the blue bangs, for instance, is one of them. He's on the tennis team with Wilcox, and he also works at the diner. It also looks like he's the "Colson" that Caleb told you is having a party tonight.<br/>
<br/>
That cinches it for you. You don't know if Terry Colson has a life worth taking over, but he can get you close to Gordon. From there you can scout out a better impersonation if you need another place.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So if your truck's not running, how'd you get down here?" Terry asks. You follow as he lopes around the corner of the Sunshine Diner, toward a low-slung sedan in the corner of the lot. It was probably once navy-blue, but the sun has bleached all the brightness from it so that it now looks covered with a film of fine dust. <br/>
<br/>
"My friend Caleb dropped me off. Johansson?" you prompt, but Terry only puts a cigarette to his lips and peers at you from under his heavy lids. <i>Am I going to want to smoke when I'm him?</i> you wonder. "I told my folks I'd be hanging out with him instead coming out with you. What they don't know won't hurt them," you add with a blush.<br/>
<br/>
<i>And the lies I'm telling you now won't matter when I </i>am<i> you.</i><br/>
<br/>
"I hear you," he says around the cigarette. "Can you stay out all night?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can if you can. But we gotta stop someplace first."<br/>
<br/>
"Cool. Me too."<br/>
<br/>
His car is unlocked, and it rides so low you almost have to sit on the asphalt in order to slide in. The seats are covered with a furry plush—<i>It's like something that a pimp would drive,</i> you think—that stinks of stale tobacco smoke. A plastic Jesus dangles from the rearview mirror, and before you can stop yourself you touch it and set it swinging.<br/>
<br/>
"You like it?" Terry says. "Came with the car." He jabs Plastic Jesus with a long finger. "I'm looking for a new one, maybe one with a cord you pull and his tits light up." He laughs. Or maybe it's a cough.<br/>
<br/>
"Where'd you get it? The car, I mean?" You're making conversation, not because you need to know.<br/>
<br/>
"Bought from Luis Castillo. You know? I'll text him later, see if I can get him out tonight. He's always up for cerveza." He buckles himself in. "Anyway, I left everything just the way I bought it. A shrine to Luis's granddad." He runs a fingertip over the dashboard.<br/>
<br/>
"Something special about his granddad?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't give a shit about his granddad. I just like the idea of driving around in a shrine to him." He inhales half the cigarette, then grinds the rest of it out in the dash-mounted ashtray. "Buckle up, man." He exhales a thick stream of smoke.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's only a block back over to the Layzee-Nites, where you ask him to come into your room to help you pick up some stuff. He asks what you're doing with a room there. By now you're too nervous to trouble over a lie, and only mutter something about needing "a place just to get away from it all for a couple of days." Terry says, "I hear that. You know I got a sofa—"<br/>
<br/>
But if there's an invitation at the end of that sentence, you'll have to deliver it yourself, for you've picked up a mask off the bed, and on the word "sofa" you wheel and smash it into Terry's face. You catch him around the shoulders and fall back with him onto the bed.<br/>
<br/>
As the mask copies him, you shift all of your belongings into the back seat of his car. In the room, you pull his clothes off him. He's a tall, lanky fellow, not much different in build from yourself, but he does seem to have more muscles than you, and his stomach shows a faint four-pack. You pull your own clothes off, and put his clothes on.<br/>
<br/>
The rest goes quickly. After the mask comes out of him, you put one of those brain band things onto him, and when that's done you drop the mask of Dane Matthias onto him. "So what's the plan, boss?" the fake Dane asks when it sits up. His eyes are clear and his brow only slightly furrowed, for you updated it with your own memories just before going out to meet Colson, and coated it with golem paint.<br/>
<br/>
"Same plan you know about," you reply as you point to his face. "Terry Colson's car is out front."<br/>
<br/>
"Cool. So what's he like?" Dane peers down at his hair-matted chest, as though trying to discern Terry Colson through it.<br/>
<br/>
"Dunno yet. How about you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think everything's working." The furrow in his brow deepens. "I'm not too sure about trying to fake my way through as Dane, though."<br/>
<br/>
"You'll do fine. Just remember you're supposed to be stoned and happy about it. And, uh, your mom will be moving out, so you won't have to worry about fooling her."<br/>
<br/>
He makes a face. "Yeah, about that. How am I supposed to eat? I don't know if either of 'em had a job. Wasn't, like, Dwayne taking care of them or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe you should get a job. Or, I dunno," you add as his eyes pop in alarm. "Maybe I'll have you over at Terry's. I get the impression he has lots of guys like you over. And we've still got the cash we took off'a Dwayne. I can pass you some of that."<br/>
<br/>
He opens his mouth to reply, but you quiet him with a raised finger. "I have to finish changing. You should too." You point to the pile of clothing—Dane's—that you saved out for him. He scoots over to let you onto the bed. You stretch out on your back, turn the brain band so that the name—TERRY PATRICK COLSON—faces you, then close your eyes and set it on your forehead.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>How weird is that?</i> you think as you loose a fast stream of piss into the toilet bowl. <i>I get his body, so I get his bladder, so I get what was in his bladder too.</i> Terry had been holding it back, and you have the impression he was going to ask if he could use your bathroom. You ought to feel funny holding his penis between your forefinger and thumb. But Terry Colson's mind has merged so completely with yours that you have to remind yourself that it ought to feel weird playing with another guy's sausage.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, you can tell the difference between his brain and yours, just as you had no trouble distinguishing between yours and Dwayne Macaulay's, or yours and Bhodi Weaver's. But it's not because your brains are separate. It's like—<br/>
<br/>
You pinch off the flow, then let it shoot back out again. The rush of pee hitting the toilet water echoes against the hard floor and hard walls of the bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
It's like one of those optical illusions where the lines look one way, then look like something else. First a duck, then a rabbit. You can think one way, and it will feel perfectly natural—<br/>
<br/>
<i>I'm Will Prescott, and I just took over the identity of Terry Colson. I'll need to give my contact info to Caleb at least, and maybe to Bhodi and the rest of the guys in case they need to find me. It sucks that I got myself into this mess, but it's my own fault, I guess. Well, </i>Caleb's<i> fault, because he's the one who—</i><br/>
<br/>
Then, with just a little push, you can think the other way and it'll feel perfectly natural too.<br/>
<br/>
<i>I'm Terry Colson, and I'm out here at the Layzee-Nites 'cos Will Prescott asked me to pick him up for the party tonight. I need to call Dorothy, make sure she comes out too; Will would like that. Should I call Sophie? She was being pretty weird last time we talked. Maybe I should wait 'til tomorrow, get her alone, maybe go to the park? Jesus, even if we just wind up holding hands, I'd—</i><br/>
<br/>
You flip back to your own native outlook, but it's no use. Terry's cock is still rising, pinching off the stream of piss. <i>Terry and Sophie, naked as can be; F-U-C-K-I-N-G!</i><br/>
<br/>
You shake off the last drops, and flush. Then you lean across the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. You push over your blue-tinged bangs, and let your jaw relax. When your face lengthens, your heavy-lidded eyes look more mournful and more stoned than usual.<br/>
<br/>
Though as Terry Colson you've got reason to be both. </span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324131
author_id: seuzz
title: Chez Colson
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Andrew cracks open a beer and swallows half of it down in one long gulp. "Be out of your way in thirty minutes," he gasps through a ripping belch.<br/>
<br/>
"Bro! Hang out if you want," you reply. You're occupied in running your finger down the CD tower and pulling out the occasional disc for a closer examination. Most of them are old mixes compiled years ago by an older cousin.<br/>
<br/>
Terry's brother—no, <i>your brother;</i> you make a slight mental adjustment—only belches again. "Vanessa," he replies. "You guys can go all night if you want."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks, I was planning to." You slip him a sidelong smile. "Bring her back."<br/>
<br/>
Andrew glances around. "Gonna clean up a little? I guess I—" But what he guesses goes unexpressed. He just rubs his forehead, and blinks stupidly.<br/>
<br/>
There's no hint of marijuana in the apartment air. But you'd bet your last paycheck that Andrew is stoned stupid. He pulls a dirty plate out of the sink and picks at the spaghetti crusted onto it. But he's not so far gone that he actually puts it in his mouth.<br/>
<br/>
An hour later—not the thirty minutes he promised—he finally leaves. His beard looks like a nest for a family of sparrows, and his hair looks like he combed it with a pencil. But Andrew Colson is handsome and he lifts iron, so he looks like a Norse god—albeit a Norse god with a distracted air, like he's not sure if he left the keys to Valhalla in his other leather breeches, or if he dropped them in a fjord when he and the other gods staged that panty raid on the Valkyries' sorority house. So Vanessa—whoever <i>she</i> is—will probably suggest they stay in and spend their date in bed.<br/>
<br/>
By the time he leaves you've got the CD tray filled with a rotation of music, and you've been outside to lounge on the hood of your car and smoke another cigarette. Terry has been smoking more heavily since the start of the school year, and Sean and Cody have been chiding him about that—it can't be good for his stamina, let alone his lungs—and if you were planning on sticking around as Terry Colson you might give serious thought to cutting back. But it's a certainty that you'll be finding yourself another role to inhabit; and even if you move later rather than sooner (as in, the end of the school year rather than tomorrow) there's no reason to change any of Terry's habits in the meantime. There's rather more reason to leave him in all his ruts.<br/>
<br/>
You do pick up the apartment a little after Andrew has gone, but only enough to move the dirty clothes into the bedroom, where you pile them onto Andrew's bed, along with the shit on Terry's. (No use being unprepared if someone wants to stay over with you.) You wash up the plates and stack them to dry, and in the bathroom you thrust the filthy towels under the sink. But it's not like you vacuum or dust or even wipe down the kitchen counters. No one coming to Andrew Colson's place for a party would expect it to be clean.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Cody Schaefer texts you a little after seven: <i>Got pizzas anything else?</i> You shoot back an <i>N</i>, then a moment later add, <i>Got 25$ 4 u.</i> You don't, actually. But Terry always offers reimbursement, thought Cody never accepts it.<br/>
<br/>
But Sean is the first to arrive, with three cases of beer and a box of wine. He's also got two weeks' pay for you, in cash, which you take with a fist bump. "It gonna be safe there?" Sean asks when you shove it into the kitchen utility drawer.<br/>
<br/>
"You wanna be my banker <i>and</i> my boss? Put on some music," you tell him as you put the wine in the fridge. "People gonna start showing up soon."<br/>
<br/>
So there's a soft techno beat echoing out the open front door and into the street when the Cody pulls up. You and Sean are outside, enjoying the music and the cool evening air as you pass a cigarette back and forth. (Sean enjoys a smoke now and then too.) Cody joins you after putting the pizzas inside. "You did remember to tell people this is happening," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you, man, I can't do everything." Then you add, "Prescott should be showing up, I told him <i>his</i> presence was required." Sean smirks; Cody grunts. "Sophie and Brooke. Dorothy." You wedge the cigarette in the corner of your mouth and take out your phone. "Any pussy you're particular for?" you ask through the wafting smoke.<br/>
<br/>
You expect him to glare back—Cody is usually such a goddam <i>gallant</i> son of a bitch—but he puts his foot up on the hood of your car (his tennis shoes retail for what Andrew pays every month in rent for this standalone apartment in the college student ghetto) and says "Kelsey" as he tightens the laces.<br/>
<br/>
Sean guffaws. "You want <i>Kelsey</i> out here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I want her <i>pussy</i> out here." Cody's voice is tight with coiled fury. He tightens the laces on his other shoe, like he's strangling someone. "Her pussy," he repeats.<br/>
<br/>
Sean twitches the cigarette from your mouth before it can fall from your sagging jaw. "You're still pissed off about this afternoon?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm even <i>more</i> pissed off. The way she was talking to Lynette—"<br/>
<br/>
"Then you don't want her pussy out here." Sean knocks some ash off the cigarette. "She had a hornet up it about something."<br/>
<br/>
"I'd dig it out of her," Cody growls. "With a fork."<br/>
<br/>
You have to catch your breath. Terry has <i>never</i> heard Cody talk this way. Not even about Kelsey Blankenship.<br/>
<br/>
In fact, now that you think about it ... "Did you go anyplace after practice?" you ask. "Meet up with anyone?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I stayed in and did homework. My dad likes me to have it all done if I'm going out on the weekend."<br/>
<br/>
"So no one-on-one time with ...?" <i>Caleb Johansson, or some sophomores? Who might have copied and replaced you with someone else?</i><br/>
<br/>
"With who?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. Only it's like someone stirred you up."<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey did."<br/>
<br/>
Sean tosses away the cigarette. "We can ask Brooke what her problem was. Fuck, it's usually Brooke that Kelsey's yelling at."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You've not long to wait. About ten minutes later a car pulls up carrying Brooke Galloway and Sophie Van der Berg, both (like Kelsey Blankenship and Lynette Kolaya) of the WHS girls' tennis team. Then Dorothy Harmon arrives, having caught a ride with Emily Sparks and Darrell Parson. So one and half pizzas have been consumed before the guest of honor—at least, that's the way you think of him—arrives. Half a dozen people, with a lot of whooping and hollering, leap from the back of his white pick up truck, while three more pile out of the cab.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Jesus,</i> you muse as you watch through the screen door. <i>I never had so many friends I had to carry them in the truck bed. They all fit up front with me. With room to spare.</i><br/>
<br/>
First to the door are Spencer Osbourne—grinning like the Joker—and Dean Stratton. Andrew Harding and Eric Harlen with their arms around Rebecca Sykes and Brianna Gould. A glowering Sienna Goldman brings up the rear.<br/>
<br/>
And last, trudging up the driveway, are a guy and girl with their arms around each other. The girl is Mia DeWitt, who in your previous incarnation you shared a second period film class with. The guy is—<br/>
<br/>
You almost swallow your tongue as he lazily saunters through the doorway, as though he were a star basketball player standing six-and-a-half feet tall and weighing over two hundred pounds.<br/>
<br/>
—Will Prescott.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It shouldn't be such a shock, seeing your alter ego this way. Terry Colson has seen him in the school hallways, and has had him out for parties just such as this. He's already etched in the memories you've stolen.<br/>
<br/>
But there's a difference between <i>remembering</i> the swagger that he barely holds in check, and actually <i>seeing</i> it.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," he says, and he barely glances at you as he brushes past. Inside, he lifts a general hand in greeting. Then he buzzes something in Mia's ear, and she buzzes something in his. He drops his arm from her waist and trudges over to pick up a beer. "Someone bring wine?" he asks no one in particular.<br/>
<br/>
"'Frigerator," you tell him, and he trudges into the kitchen. <br/>
<br/>
"Bring me one of those?" Spencer calls out.<br/>
<br/>
"Your hand broken?" Will retorts as he pulls a plastic tumbler from a cabinet. "You had it wedged up Michael's ass, and he broke it?" Guttural laughs from the gang; Spencer grins and blushes and fetches his own beer.<br/>
<br/>
Mia, you notice, isn't the only girl watching Will. So is Emily, and so is Dorothy. The latter, you notice, has a stricken look on her face.<br/>
<br/>
Will carries a bottle, a tumbler, and a plate slopping over with pizza to the couch, and with a kick of his foot convinces Darrell to give up his spot so he can take it. Mia sits next to him and takes the tumbler of wine and a slice of pizza. Will watches her intently, and after she's taken a bite he leans in to nip at the side of her throat. She squeals.<br/>
<br/>
Someone nudges you, and you jump. It's Brianna Gould. "Got a cigarette?" she asks. You give her your pack. Then you follow her out the door.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought Will was into Dorothy," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
She looks up at you from under her brows as she puts a flame to the cigarette. "I don't think Will's settled on anyone," she says. She hisses out a stream of smoke. "What about you?"<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213241311
author_id: seuzz
title: The Party Boy
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The open doorway is a rectangle of light spilling out into the night. It makes for a kid of optical illusion: Standing on the dark stoop and looking into the brightly lit house is like looking outside onto the world from inside a dark tunnel.<br/>
<br/>
It gives you a touch of vertigo to recognize a house that you've never seen before, and to recognize the faces, names, and partial personal histories of people that you barely remember seeing before, and to understand people you have never talked to. For a moment the old expression about being "beside one's self" almost makes sense, for you feel as though you are two separate people with two separate brains, standing next to each other. One is a stranger to the place, a little frightened, who would just as soon sneak off. The other knows everyone inside, and has talked with them, sat with them, danced with them, rubbed against them, and slept with some of them. He has even got naked with and exchanged hand jobs with one of the guys. He feels a little funny standing out here instead of being inside with everyone else.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm still feeling around," you tell Brianna Gould. You take the cigarette from her and draw a hit from it. You almost lean in to kiss her, but she'd probably take it as more meaningful than you want her to. "Why does anyone have to decide anything?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess that's my philosophy too, how come I'm still feeling around."<br/>
<br/>
<i>No,</i> you think. <i>That's not why you're alone, Brianna. You're just so desperate to be with a guy that you wind up scaring them all off.</i><br/>
<br/>
Then you think: <i>But if you want to pretend for tonight that you're not in the mood to make final decisions, I could go along with you.</i><br/>
<br/>
Before you can stop yourself, you've put your hand on the small of her back, and given her a single, hard rub down all the way to her ass, which you pat. "Some nights it just doesn't pay to think too hard," you tell her as you give the cigarette back.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll say amen to that." She takes another hit off the cigarette and hisses the smoke out through clenched teeth.<br/>
<br/>
So when she drops the cigarette and grinds it out under her heel, you put your arm around her waist and lead her back inside. You feel Andrew Harding's eyes on you—he was the last one to collide with Brianna—but a moment later he turns back to Emily, who is putting a crick her neck as she glares up into his face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's not a rowdy crowd. Most of them take AP classes, and many of them—like Cody and Sophie—come from old money. <br/>
<br/>
But they're still not the sorts of people that—with your intimate knowledge of him—you'd expect Will Prescott to hang out with.<br/>
<br/>
Yet even here, in the midst of a party so intimate that everyone, if they wanted to, could concentrate on him, he stands aloof somehow. He doesn't withdraw into a corner, as you might do if you were being yourself, but perches in the center of the room where the pizza and beer are spread out. He drapes his arms loosely around Mia, but he looks past her, over her head, watching the others with an uplifted chin; he listens intently and unsmilingly, only grunting the occasional response when anyone speaks to him; and just as often turning away from whoever is talking to penetrate Mia with a hard gaze, and to draw her up to his face for a long, nourishing nuzzle.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Jesus," Spencer grumbles at one such point, when Will turns away in the middle of his monologue about the time Kyle Kent skateboarded off the roof of the middle school and broke his collar bone. Spencer catches you smirking at him. "Are <i>you</i> listening to this, Colson?"<br/>
<br/>
"Meh," you reply, and turn your full attention to Brianna, who is half-nestled in your lap. "Jesus," Spencer mutters again, and plops onto the other side of the girl.<br/>
<br/>
"Why are you trying so hard to impress him?" you ask Spencer. "Prescott, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not trying to impress him."<br/>
<br/>
Brianna snorts. "Oh, please," she says. "If you were trying any harder you'd have to pull his pants down and suck him off."<br/>
<br/>
"I am not—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Would <i>you</i> suck him off?" you ask Brianna. <br/>
<br/>
She turns away with a curve of her lip. "He's occupied tonight."<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Prescott! Will!" you shout. He looks around Mia long enough to return you a dead-eyed stare. "What about her?" You jab a finger at Brianna, who slaps it away and smacks you in the leg.<br/>
<br/>
Will's eyes shift to Brianna, then shift back to Mia. His lips twitch up in a half smile, and he pulls her after him. You feel your eyes widen as they step into the bedroom and shut the door behind them.<br/>
<br/>
For a long moment you can do nothing. <i>He did not just do that!</i> wrestles with <i>He just did!</i> The need to do something about it tangles with the desire to not cause a scene. Your offense at Will's presumption grapples with a terrified reluctance to confront him.<br/>
<br/>
Spencer hoots, and leans around Brianna to waggle his eyebrows at you. "What are you gonna do about that, man?" he jeers. "Gonna do anything? Gonna tell him he's <i>got permission?</i>" He sniggers. <br/>
<br/>
Cody catches your eye with a frown and jerks his head at the closed door. "Will and Mia," you shout back at him over the music. His expression shifts from puzzlement to alarm, and he gives the door a hard stare before turning back to you. With a vast effort that almost cracks your frozen muscles, you shrug and look away.<br/>
<br/>
No one else shouts the news over the music, but word about the bedroom door and what is presumably going on behind it gradually but unmistakably filters through the room, like a person-to-person virus. After a quarter hour an open space has formed in front of the door—a spot that no one want to stand in or walk through. You watch faces, and notice that no one will look at you. Even Brianna has fallen silent.<br/>
<br/>
The fatal break occurs when Dorothy Harmon runs from the house, followed closely by Emily Sparks. You feel your face burning, and the sofa under your butt gets warmer and warmer. Maybe it's getting warmer because you're squirming, but you're definitely squirming because it's getting hot.<br/>
<br/>
Finally you can't take it anymore, and leap off the sofa and follow them out. Brianna doesn't follow.<br/>
<br/>
It takes you a moment to spot Dorothy and Emily out in the street, next to Will's truck. It gives you a pang to realize that it's not <i>your</i> truck any more.<br/>
<br/>
Dorothy is snuffling hard as you approach. Emily does a double take at you, and she has such an expression on her face that you slow up. Not that she's a formidable girl: she's a small thing—a Munchkin, practically—with long brunette hair that drapes out from under a ski cap, and dark-framed glasses. Terry doesn't care that she dresses up like she's trying to look less pretty (he'd hump her anyway, if she was the type to put out), but you can't help thinking that she'd look totally adorable if she put away the cap and glasses and ditched the pea coat, the twill trousers, and the Doc Martens for a short-skirted dress and maybe some strappy sandals.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, wait. That's a fantasy that Terry has.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, so, hey," you stammer as you slow up to join them. "You gonna be okay, Dorothea?" you ask, using Terry's playful name for her.<br/>
<br/>
"What do <i>you</i> think?" Emily spits in answer. Dorothy murmurs something, but Emily stills her with a hand on her arm. "Jesus, do you just let <i>anyone</i> do it in your bedroom?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's not <i>my</i> bedroom," you correct her. "It's Andrew's, and he's letting me—"<br/>
<br/>
"Do you know what motherfucking sophistry that is? It's <i>bullshit,</i> God damn it!"<br/>
<br/>
"So what do you want me to do? I can't bust in on them, and even if I did, they'd just—"<br/>
<br/>
"You could not be such a limp-dicked pushover for him!"<br/>
<br/>
Speaking of being a pushover, someone pushes you aside now. It's Cody, and Emily leaps back as he pulls Dorothy into an embrace. It's too dark to read the face he shows you over her shoulder, but his brows are lowered.<br/>
<br/>
You shift from foot to foot, and for a lack of anyplace better to turn your eyes, you look back at the house. Everyone seems to be crowded around the doorway.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe we should move things," you suggest.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," Cody growls. "Move them where?" You shrug. No one else has a house that can be repurposed for a party on such short notice. It sounds lame, but all you can suggest is, "The Warehouse?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm gonna go home," Dorothy murmurs. Cody says that he'll take her. Emily, with a parting glare at you, says she'll go too.<br/>
<br/>
You return to the door and tell people that the party is moving to the Warehouse. Still, it takes you a couple of minutes to push and prod people out of the house.<br/>
<br/>
Spencer's the last one out, and in the doorway he grins back at you with gleeful malice. "What about Prescott?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll kick him out."<br/>
<br/>
Spencer just laughs in your face.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132413111
author_id: seuzz
title: Playing Ball with the New Will Prescott
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>No, you don't kick Will Prescott out of the apartment. You wait for him and Mia to finish. You knock back two more beers—which spreads a pleasant numbness over your buzz—as you wait, and smoke three cigarettes, which is a bit much in such a short period even for Terry.<br/>
<br/>
But thirty minutes later, the door opens. Mia's eyes dart about as she emerges, and guilt pools in her eyes. "So everyone left?" she asks in a pinched voice.<br/>
<br/>
"They went off to the Warehouse." You look past her at Will, who is looking very serene. "You can catch up if you want."<br/>
<br/>
He rubs her between the shoulder blades. "I can drop you off there."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not going?"<br/>
<br/>
"I got a curfew." He frowns down at his phone. "Shit. Maybe I can't drop you off. You heading out there?" he asks you.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." You all three exchange glances. Then with a sigh you get off the couch. "I'll take you, Mia."<br/>
<br/>
And yet Will still drapes his arm around her shoulder as he walks her to your car.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Mia is silent until you're on the road—so still and silent that you might have the dark cabin to yourself. Only after the silence has grown very tense does she blurt out, "Nothing happened in there."<br/>
<br/>
"Where? The bedroom, you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes." You can hardly hear her over the swish of tires rushing over the pavement. "We just, you know, hung out."<br/>
<br/>
"You could'a hung out with everyone else."<br/>
<br/>
"Will wanted someplace quiet. He said the party was making his ears hurt."<br/>
<br/>
"You could've gone off someplace else."<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I'm <i>sorry!</i> I didn't think we were going to do anything, and we didn't."<br/>
<br/>
"Did he—?" You're torn between a prurient curiosity about what your alter ego got up to and a horror of what the answer would be. "What did <i>he</i> think you were going to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, ask him! We just talked. Okay? Jesus!"<br/>
<br/>
You grunt.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't feel like he was trying to, you know," she mutters. Then: "God, why am I trying to explain things to <i>you?</i> You're not my mother!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, everyone <i>thinks</i> that—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, God!" She pulls her knees to her face. "You know, people sneak off at other parties, and no one thinks that—!" She breaks off, snuffling heavily.<br/>
<br/>
One very glib reply floats in the forefront of your brain: <i>Sure they think it. Anytime two people go off together everyone assumes they're looking for a place to fuck.</i> Okay, not everyone thinks that, but enough people think it that Mia should have known better.<br/>
<br/>
But you feel a deeper reaction way down in your gut. It's like a low but powerful rumble that sends a shiver all the way up your spine and a tingle over your scalp: <i>Everyone just assumed that Will Prescott was going to fuck Mia DeWitt in your bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
Incredible!</i> You assumed it too, without even realizing it. You could never have pictured yourself doing that. But apparently everyone—including Terry Colson—could imagine <i>this</i> Will Prescott doing it.<br/>
<br/>
There could be no better proof that this Will Prescott is not the same as the old one. <br/>
<br/>
Now you <i>do</i> burn to know what this one is like.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Saturday morning.</i> You're up at nine—early enough to meet Andrew as he comes stumbling in, red-eyed, from his date—but you wait until eleven to text Will. He texts back to suggest basketball at this old elementary school near his house. That gives you a moment of panic—<i>What if he finds the "clubhouse" in the basement?</i>—before you remember that you've moved out of there permanently. You counter by suggesting a game of tennis, but yield to his preferences when he gives you a hard <i>No</i> in reply.<br/>
<br/>
He's a lot better at basketball than you ever were. He is fast, and even with Terry's long arms he can put the ball around you, then cut past to catch it again and put it through the basket. He also has an unerring eye, and when he's tired of a running game he just stands off and swishes basket after basket after basket. He's brutal, too, and has no compunction about running you over or mugging you to get the ball away. After twenty minutes of hard humiliation, you resign the game. He accepts with a shrug, and informs you that in a real game his antics would have fouled him out in the first five minutes.<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever," you say. "I wanted to talk about last night."<br/>
<br/>
"What about it?"<br/>
<br/>
His blunt reply stops you very short, so that you can only stare at him. He still looks as unimpressive as you always felt. He's lanky, with rabbity eyes that peer out from under bushy bangs. But there's a hardness to his eyes, and his jaw is set. The stare he returns you isn't hostile, but it isn't puzzled, either. <i>He's waiting for me to call him out,</i> you realize. <i>He isn't going to apologize, and he's not even going to explain it. He's just going to listen to me, and shrug, and tell me I can stick it someplace if I don't like it.</i><br/>
<br/>
So you change tack: "Are you serious about Mia?"<br/>
<br/>
He actually starts a little, and glances away. "I dunno. What's it matter to you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you serious about Dorothy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, fuck." He puts his hands on his hips and looks down.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just curious, man. It doesn't matter. Not to me. Shit, I'm not serious about anyone, and I've had more than a couple of girls in my bed." He looks up sharply at that. "No one expects any better from me," you continue. "So, you know, as long as people know what to expect from you—" You break off.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," he grunts His jaw works. "Like— I dunno."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, after last night, maybe everyone will get it and it'll be okay. Dorothy and Emily are pissed at you, though."<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever."<br/>
<br/>
You sigh. "Yeah, whatever. They'll get over it. Like, they get you now."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh."<br/>
<br/>
You ball up your fists. <i>This is one undemonstrative motherfucker.</i> <br/>
<br/>
"Well," you say aloud, "I just wanted to, clear the air a little. See if there was anything I needed to straighten out, see if there was anything you wanted me to, uh, explain to people." Your ears start to burn. <i>What a lame thing to say.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Huh," Will grunts again. "I guess that's pretty cool." He glances around the old schoolyard, and you tense up, waiting for him to dismiss you.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, his gaze gets hooked inside yours, and for a moment he gives you a penetrating stare. Then he says, "You got any beer left from last night?"<br/>
<br/>
"Some."<br/>
<br/>
"Let's go, then," he says.<br/>
<br/>
You marvel at how casually he has invited himself over to your place—as though it's his, and you're the guest—and at how easily you accept it. He doesn't talk much on the way back to Andrew's apartment, leaving you with plenty of time to wonder if this is <i>you</i> rolling over so easily for him, or if it is Terry.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The bedroom door is shut, but Andrew is a heavy sleeper and it's just you and Will, so you don't bother being quiet. You plonk down next to the stereo with a couple of beers. You find yourself explaining to Will again (as Terry had just a week before) the circumstances of Terry's life: How your father's a drunk and your mother is seriously bipolar, so you've moved out and taken a bed in your brother's apartment. This time, though, Will actually seems to be listening, and you doubt you'll have to tell him again.<br/>
<br/>
He's more evasive when talking about himself—as you expected—and only allows that his dad works for an engineering firm and that he has a little brother. When you ask him about his classes, he only says, "They're fucking classes," puts back some beer, and asks you about the tennis team.<br/>
<br/>
Talk is suspended by lots of silences. Will isn't shy about turning off in the middle of the conversation to study the CD tower or your brother's bookshelf, and pulls out a paperback or two to study while grunting answers to your comments and questions. He doesn't seem bored, though, and even after minutes of silence (during which he stares hard at the ceiling or the wall) he will pick things up right where they had left off, or circle back around to pick up talking about some topic you left off earlier.<br/>
<br/>
After one such silence, though, you pick things up with a topic you (and Terry) have been curious about for awhile. "So last time we were out here—you, me, Sean and Spencer—you were talking about Chelsea Cooper." Will's eyes harden, and his lips whiten at her name. "Where did all that come from? All that stuff you were telling us about her and—" You leave off, and let him infer the rest of the sentence: <i>her pussy.</i><br/>
<br/>
He holds your eye, then sinks back in his seat and stretches out his legs. He clasps his hands behind his head.<br/>
<br/>
"It's something I used to think about a lot," he says. "I was obsessed with her. You know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'd think about—" His jaw works. "Everything I'd do to her. Love to do to her. How I'd turn her inside out. Make her pant and scream."<br/>
<br/>
"You made it sound like first-hand knowledge."<br/>
<br/>
He gives you another hard look. "Yeah, well, I got a good imagination."<br/>
<br/>
You almost feel sorry for him.<br/>
<br/>
"But fuck it," he says. "I'm over that, I'm over her. I want some pussy I can actually pinch." He holds up his forefinger and thumb.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213242
author_id: seuzz
title: The Bold and the Beautiful
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Oh, fuck," you groan. "I'm gonna have to move out of here if Kelsey <i>and</i> Kim are gonna keep showing up."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe you should turn yourself into Kelsey," Caleb smirks. "<i>Are</i> you going to turn yourself into someone else? 'Cos it sure seems like you're taking your sweet time about it."<br/>
<br/>
You make a face back at him. Kelsey Blankenship—rich, snooty, stylish, going-to-Harvard-or-Stanford-or-Oxford-or-someplace-that's-not-State-are-you -fucking-kidding? Kelsey Blankenship—would be a fine identity provided you were okay with a sex change. But you've got time to think about it, for you've got a bunch of masks to finish up first. You push the door closed and invite Caleb to join you.<br/>
<br/>
By ten o'clock—after a couple of breaks, including one for supper—you and he have polished up most of the masks and made a large dent in the stack of brain bands. It will be more than enough for tomorrow, which is when the guys are planning on making their first substitution. It was Bhodi who volunteered to make the break-through. He will try to get Andrew Webb—who he knows from the soccer team, even if he despises him—off alone with Andy. Afterward, with Andrew playing for their team, the guys figure they can quickly get the others, for Andrew (despite or maybe because he's a jock-asshole) runs with a popular crowd.<br/>
<br/>
And that, perhaps inevitably, gets you thinking about the popular kids in your own class, and which of them you might substitute yourself for.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You work diligently all the next day (a Friday) as well, so that you have all the masks and most of the brain bands done when Caleb stops by after school. Bhodi and Andy are with him. They are both very quiet, and look jumpy.<br/>
<br/>
"So you're gonna do the thing this afternoon?" you say. "It's all set up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." Bhodi licks his lips.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you gonna need any help?"<br/>
<br/>
Bhodi and Andy exchange a glance. "Like, from you?" Bhodi asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. I want to help if I can."<br/>
<br/>
"They can handle it on their own, Will," Caleb says. "We don't need to be there."<br/>
<br/>
"Justin'll be there too," Andy says. "After, uh, Andrew, we're going to try to get Ethan for him. Use Andrew to get to—" A tremble runs through him.<br/>
<br/>
You give Caleb a look; he gives you a stony glance back.<br/>
<br/>
"So is this all we need?" Bhodi asks as he picks a mask up off the bed.<br/>
<br/>
"That and one of these." You hand him two brain bands. "Plus another one for Andy. You've got a mask of him already, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right."<br/>
<br/>
"You also want this." You hand him a plastic tub with some goop in it. "Paint this inside Andy's mask, then cut off some of his hair, drop it into the mask, set it on fire. You'll want to get all that done before Andrew shows up. Uh, you want me to write any of this down?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I know how to do it," Bhodi says. He wipes his palm on the front of his shirt, which doesn't reassure you. "It's just good to be reminded, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"You want us to stop by after we're done?" Andy says.<br/>
<br/>
"Up to you." <br/>
<br/>
They nod, and after an awkward pause announce that they should be going. They trip over each other on the way out the door.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, they're gonna fuck it up," you snap at Caleb when they're gone.<br/>
<br/>
"They'll be fine, Will. <i>We</i> didn't fuck it up, and we're almost as big a bag o' fuck-ups as them."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Sure we didn't fuck it up,</i> you think as you survey the room. <i>That's how come I'm looking for a new identity after losing my old one to Gordon Black.</i> "I wanna tag after them anyway," you say, "watch them, make sure they pull it off."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, Will! You'll undermine their confidence."<br/>
<br/>
"Then we won't tell them we're there! We'll sit off somewhere and watch. Do you know where they're gonna do it?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb rolls his eyes. "Fine, they're doing it down at the municipal soccer fields. We can watch from the parking lot, it'll give me a chance to give you the gossip. But I need to stink up your head first." He saunters past you to the bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The Morris Clevenger Community Athletic Fields are a large sports complex of soccer/football fields, batting cages, and sun-warped bleachers on the south side of town next to South Creek Park. You're aghast at the very public location that Bhodi and Andy have chosen, for even though the fields are entirely deserted under a cloud-wracked sky, there is no shelter from spying eyes on the wide expanse of fading grass. Least of all from yours and Caleb's as you squat in the front seat of his car to watch.<br/>
<br/>
"So I had lunch with Carson and James today," Caleb says after you're settled in. Bhodi and Andy and Justin are already standing out in the middle of the field; Justin bounces a soccer ball on his knee; and as you watch now, Andrew Webb saunters out to meet them. His close-shorn blonde hair bristles under the late-afternoon sun; his thighs and arms (he's dressed in shorts and a sleeveless tee) glow pinkly with health; he struts along like a rooster on his way to a fight. "Are you listening?" Caleb asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Carson and James. Lunch."<br/>
<br/>
"You're gonna wanna pay attention, 'cos it's about you. Well, the other you."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, Ioeger and Lamont were dying to know what was up with you, and I had to tell them I didn't know. So they told me what they knew. Did you know you're trying out for the basketball team?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm what?" You spare Caleb a glance, then twist back around to watch the boys. They're in a small huddle now, hands on their hips, glaring at each other. Well, Bhodi is glaring at Andrew, who is grinning impudently back.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. You know that Gordon—uh, the guy who looks like Gordon—got tossed off the squad for being baked all the time. That left an opening."<br/>
<br/>
"So Gordon's trying to get back on?" you say. "Even though he's looking like me?" Andrew has laid a finger on Bhodi's chest, and raised his chin at him.<br/>
<br/>
"It's more complicated than that. Turns out, there's some guys from Eastman who are moving over to Westside, and they also want to try out for the squad, 'cos they played for Eastman, and now they want to play for us."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck? We poach them or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dunno. Anyway, there's gonna be some tryouts on Monday, and you're one of the ones who's trying out. That's what the guys told me, anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"How do they know this?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's reply includes the word "Javits," but that's all you hear as you gasp and bolt upright. Justin has grabbed Andrew by the shoulders from behind; Andy, stepping up from behind Bhodi, smacks the soccer player in the forehead. You grip the dashboard as Andrew's legs buckle. He sinks to the grass, taking Justin with him.<br/>
<br/>
"Smooth," Caleb says.<br/>
<br/>
You glance anxiously around the parking lot, but it doesn't look like anyone else is on hand to have witnessed the magical mugging, and the three sophomores drop to grass to screen the unconscious Webb with their bodies. You sink back into your seat and chew on your thumbnail. <br/>
<br/>
"So Gordon's trying to get back on the team," you remark after a moment's silence. "Is he gonna try getting back together with Chelsea? Didn't I hear that they broke up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, from me, and good luck to him if he tries that while looking like you." You ignore his snigger. "Oh, and she's got troubles of her own." <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" You chew your lip and stare at the guys in the field, even though nothing is happening.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. That was the other part of the talk at lunch. James says he heard that Chelsea tried putting the moves on Patterson, and that he told her to go stick her head up her cunny—but only after she gave him a blow job."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck! No!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, maybe not. It might just be a rumor him and Ioeger are trying to start. But Cindy is apparently this close to staging a coup to knock her out as cheerleader captain." He nudges you, and you look over to see him pinching his fingertips together."<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy's been trying that since school started, hasn't she?"<br/>
<br/>
"This time it sounds like she's got a chance. Still, I wouldn't bet against Chelsea. Mmph. I'd rub up against her hard, but I wouldn't bet against her."<br/>
<br/>
You flash Caleb a grin. <i>Damn right Chelsea would be fine to get close to, even if she is the biggest bitch in school.</i> You suck in your cheeks. <i>Yes, she deserves the grief.</i> She's the one who knocked you into this current mess by sending her thug-boyfriend to beat the crap out of you after you lipped off to her. Steve Patterson—Gordon's former best friend—is probably the only guy in school with the balls to blow her off after getting blown by her.<br/>
<br/>
Nothing is happening out on the field, so you bemuse yourself by thinking on these very powerful people. Steve Patterson, basketball squad captain and terrifying jock-bully; Chelsea Cooper, current cheerleader captain; Cindy Vredenburg, the sexy cheerleader who might be on the verge of toppling Chelsea; Seth Javits, Cindy's brutal boyfriend who is now probably the number two guy on the basketball squad. No one dares to argue with or cross them. Kelsey's another one like that.<br/>
<br/>
There's some movement on the field that catches your eye: Andy is taking off his shirt and laying out on the grass, and Bhodi and Justin are bending over him and Webb. Then they are still again, with Justin blocking your view.<br/>
<br/>
They've got the right idea, you decide. If you're going to steal someone's life, go big or go home.<br/>
<br/>
A quarter hour passes, during which Andy Jensen gets up and walks off to sit in a car. At the end of it, Andrew Webb gets to his feet, stretches, and strokes his bicep. Then he and Bhodi exchange a high-five.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132423
author_id: seuzz
title: The Guy Who Would be Queen of the School
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You seen enough?" Caleb asks as the three sophomore boys—Bhodi Weaver, Justin Orr, and their new best friend, Andrew Webb—saunter off.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Let's go get a shake or something."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You settle in at a nearby McDonalds. "So tell me some more about what's going on at the school," you ask Caleb. "About the cheerleaders and all that."<br/>
<br/>
"I knew you weren't paying attention back there," he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Was so. Cindy's trying to get rid of Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"So what more do you wanna know?" Caleb sucks down some of his shake.<br/>
<br/>
"Pft. She's always trying to get rid of Chelsea. But you said she had a pretty good chance this time."<br/>
<br/>
"So I hear, on account of Chelsea and Gordon busting up."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck has that got to do with the cheerleader squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"You'd have to ask Jenny or Yumi. They were the ones tried explaining it to me. You want I should call 'em out here?" He takes out his cell phone.<br/>
<br/>
"No! I'm already trying to dodge Kim and Kelsey and that Sean gink, I don't need—"<br/>
<br/>
"Well then all I can tell you is it has to do with the fuck room and who gets into it. Drama about that."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shrugs. "What I glean is it's a prestige thing. Patterson kicked Gordon out after he got Gordon fired from the squad, and he kicked Chelsea out too. You know what a big deal it is to be able to hang out up there."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm-hmm." The infamous "fuck room" is a loft above the gym, where a very exclusive membership gets to hang out during and outside of school hours. Everyone assumes that lots and lots of hot, messy sex gets had in it.<br/>
<br/>
"So it's a huge knock against Chelsea and makes her look weak, so maybe some of the other girls on the squad are finally ready to help Cindy try to knock her off her perch." Caleb shrugs again. "Oh, and Patterson is dangling Gordon and Chelsea's old fuck room keys in front everyone. You know, be his favorite and you get one. Everyone's betting that Seth and Cindy will score a set regardless, 'cos Javits's real talent on court is sucking up to Patterson."<br/>
<br/>
Actually, from all you've heard and seen, Seth Javits has speed, hustle, shooting accuracy, and sheer meanness in his talent stack. But sucking up to Patterson would be a valuable talent too, you suppose.<br/>
<br/>
"So Cindy's gonna be cheerleader captain," you muse. "Her sister was too, back in the day, wasn't she?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. Did I tell you she once talked to me?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! Lucy? What's the story?"<br/>
<br/>
"She said, 'Take your freaking stink someplace else.'" Caleb makes a face and slides his straw in and out of his shake. "I forget the circumstances."<br/>
<br/>
<i>The Vredenburg sisters. Lucy and Cindy.</i> Not quite peas in a pod, but close, both being tall and willowy with long, straight, platinum hair. To this basic pattern Cindy adds big green eyes under dark brows; pie-pan cheekbones; and a pink, bow-like mouth. There is, admittedly, something mask-like about her face—it is so perfectly free of lines or blemishes—but maybe that's why you feel yourself drifting faster toward a decision that you should place a mask atop it—and then put that mask on yourself.<br/>
<br/>
"So Cindy's gonna be head cheerleader," you muse again, and pull down some of your shake. <i>Not a boast that a lot of </i>guys<i> would be able to make.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Saturday afternoon.</i> You've changed motels so as to avoid people you know. Meanwhile, Andy Jensen and Justin Orr have been by to offer their gratitudes and respects (and to show off their new bodies, you suspect). Webb you now clearly remember from the time you ran into him while impersonating Bhodi: a pink-skinned bully with a tendency to smirk down his nose. Clayborne, meanwhile, turns out to be a strapping hulk-in-training. His biceps already fill out the sleeves of his t-shirt, and his athletic shorts disclose thick calves and bulging thighs. He's better-looking than Webb, too, even if he's got a few zits popping out of the top of his cheek. (Justin somehow can't escape having zits!) His features are regular, and his brown, wiry hair twists into stiff waves over the top of his ears and neck. His gruff baritone also contrasts favorably with Webb's squeaky tenor; and where Webb's snub nose makes him look childish and insolent, Clayborne's upturned snub and large, serious eyes gives his face a vulnerability that contrasts well with his hardened limbs.<br/>
<br/>
And tonight he's planning to use his muscles, his hair, his snub nose, his decent grades, and his reputation as a shy and thoughtful romancer to snag Kaylee Mercier's body for Grant, and/or Leslie Osbourne's body for Mrs. Matthias. As he swaggers out the door with Webb trailing behind, you have to admit that he probably won't have a hard time of it.<br/>
<br/>
You're glad they're gone, though. You have your own appointment to keep, and she'll be meeting you here.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, Cindy Vredenburg is going to be meeting up with you in Room 22 of the Layzee-Nites Motel. Even now you get lightheaded when you think about it.<br/>
<br/>
It's on account of the fight that "you" had with her boyfriend. It seemed to you a plausible reason for you and her to meet to talk, and Caleb (though skeptical) texted her a message on your behalf. You were proposing to meet her at the library or some other neutral ground where (maybe) you could maneuver her into a hushed corner to make the switch. Imagine your shock when she asked if you were still staying at the Donna Courts, and indicated she'd be willing to meet you there. She was still willing, even after you said you'd moved over to the LN.<br/>
<br/>
As two o'clock approaches, you hunch on the edge of the bed and wipe your palms on your knees. Caleb, standing in the corner by the door, gives you a look.<br/>
<br/>
Naturally, she's late, but at two-twenty there's a knock on the door. Caleb opens it.<br/>
<br/>
And there she is: Cindy Vredenburg, come to call on you in a sketchy motel room. You stagger to your creaking knees as Caleb lets her in with a smile that to your eye looks about as genuine as the Mona Lisa executed in crayon. "Hey, Cindy," you croak. "Thanks for, uh, coming out." You have to drop your eyes from her face.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," she says. "I wanted to see that you're doing okay."<br/>
<br/>
You look up again, to see her eyes filled with a grave concern; the corners of her mouth pull down in a slight frown.<br/>
<br/>
<i>What? She's worried about you?</i> You? Cindy has never been more than polite to you on the few occasions (a number you could count on the fingers of a clumsy, one-handed shop teacher) that she's ever spoken to you. <br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I'm fine," you reply. Behind her, Caleb lifts a hand that cradles a brain band; you frown at him; he stands down, but frowns back at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Because I saw that bruise Seth gave you," Cindy continues, then breaks off. Puzzlement shows in her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah, that." You touch your cheek. <i>Is it the right one or the left one that's supposed to be damaged?</i> "I got some stuff to put on it, helped out."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyebrows go up. "Well, I wish you'd tell me what it was. Seth looks like he got hit by a train." <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, sorry about that."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be. I told him it was his own fault. Are you still going to try out for the team?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, sure. I'm not gonna let ..." You trail off as Cindy's eyes narrow. "It's what I want."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," she says, then hesitates.<br/>
<br/>
"But you know, Will," she continues, "the guys on the basketball squad are ... Well, they're a tough bunch."<br/>
<br/>
You feel yourself flush. It's one thing to know that you're probably too much of a pussy to survive—let alone thrive—under the face-stomping bullying you hear gets practiced on the basketball squad. It's another to have someone else <i>tell</i> you so to your face.<br/>
<br/>
"Look," Cindy sighs, "maybe you and Seth just got off on the wrong foot." She takes out her phone. "I'll call him, and maybe we can all—"<br/>
<br/>
You catch Caleb's eye. He steps up behind her and claps his palm to her forehead.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Okay, there's her brain," Caleb says as he lifts the band. "Not the sexiest part of her by a long shot, but you'll want it." He grins as he lays a blank mask on Cindy, who is now arranged on the motel bed. "Now for the real fun."<br/>
<br/>
"Dude, what are you doing?" you shriek as he unbuttons her skinny jeans and starts to pull them off.<br/>
<br/>
"Getting her out of her clothes," he retorts. "We can't put the other mask on her while she's dressed like this!"<br/>
<br/>
He's got a point, and you relent. To hide Cindy, you have constructed a hybrid "Dane Matthias": the old mask you had of him, with a brain-band copying your own memory and personality inserted into it, all covered over with golem paint. The resulting golem will look like Dane, but will have to pretend to be him without having his memories. Still, it should be able to pass in public as Dane Matthias, and at least as well as Gordon is passing as you and Dane himself is passing as Gordon.<br/>
<br/>
Cindy's form, once disclosed, is magnificent. There isn't a bit of fat on her slim frame; her hips and legs are narrow but strong; her breasts are large and ripe. Caleb moans. "Can I be Seth? Please?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's breaking up with him."<br/>
<br/>
"She is?"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course she is. Do you think I want his hairy cock anywhere near me?"<br/>
<br/>
And as though speaking his name has summoned the devil, you're interrupted by a hoarse shout from the parking lot. "Cindy! Cindy, I know you're here!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb jumps over to the window and peeps out the curtain. "Jesus! It's Javits! And he looks like he wants to freaking <i>murder</i> someone!"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck!" You look at Cindy. "If he finds us here like this—"</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324231
author_id: seuzz
title: A Magical Motel Mugging
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You leap to the bed, where the naked Cindy Vredenburg is sprawled. "Quick, help me cover her up!" you hiss at Caleb as you toss the edge of the bedspread over her.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you doing?" Caleb hisses back. "Let's just lock the door, he's not gonna—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>"Cindy!"</i> Seth roars.<br/>
<br/>
"You said you wanted to be Seth." You point at the door. "If we let him in, we can grab him, but I don't want him seeing his girlfriend like this!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's eyes bulge. "Wait. You're saying you—? You—?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>"Do you wanna be Cindy's boyfriend or don't you?"</i><br/>
<br/>
"But you said—!"<br/>
<br/>
"I changed my mind!" You jump over to the door. "In or out, man?" You lay your hand on the knob. "Lock it or let him in?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb gulps, then with wide, staring eyes he nods. "Let him in."<br/>
<br/>
"Good." You twist the handle. "I'd rather have you jizzing on me from inside the tent than from outside." Caleb slips behind the door as you open it and step over the threshold. <br/>
<br/>
Seth Javits is standing in the parking lot, hands on his hips, glaring around. He has a long face with a long nose and chin and slightly protuberant eyes under sandy hair that is trimmed neat and closely brushed over his scalp. He is only a little over six feet tall, so he's no giant. But he has broad shoulders, a deep chest, a trim tummy and narrow hips, all of which are shown off to his advantage by the tight Levis and loose football-style jersey he's wearing. He looks like a guy in excellent fighting trim.<br/>
<br/>
He also looks like a guy who's been in a bad fight. Most of the right side of his face is stained by a black and purple bruise centered on his cheekbone, and his right eye is partially swollen shut. He also has an obvious cut on the left side of his mouth.<br/>
<br/>
You know it's bait for an ambush and not a real taunt. Still, you don't think you've ever been braver than when you yell at him: "Hey, Seth! Your girlfriend's in here and she's taken her clothes off for me!"<br/>
<br/>
Seth wheels at your voice and stares; the rest of his face turns almost as purple as the bruised half. His nostrils flare.<br/>
<br/>
Then, wordlessly, he stalks over to you.<br/>
<br/>
"I was hoping I'd run into you off campus, Prescott," he snarls as you step backpedal into the room. "I'll do you a solid and call 911 when I'm through with you."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God, if this doesn't work ... !</i><br/>
<br/>
Seth charges into the room after you, and his bulk seems to squeeze most of the air out of it. Or are you just hyperventilating? You can't seem to catch your breath. And you feel yourself going numb all over as he glances over your shoulder and frowns at the bed. <i>Caleb! Now!</i> you want to yell, but your throat is frozen.<br/>
<br/>
But he takes the cue anyway. Behind Seth, the door swings shut and Caleb looms behind him. Caleb stretches out his arm.<br/>
<br/>
Seth catches the movement out of the corner of his eye, and half turns. Caleb grabs at him—<br/>
<br/>
—and with a cry falls backward as Seth punches him in the gut with his elbow. He twists about, grabs Caleb by the front of the shirt, and pulls his fist back.<br/>
<br/>
Your feet won't lift from the carpet as Seth punches Caleb back into the wall, then kicks his feet from under him. Your friend slides to the floor.<br/>
<br/>
"Fucker!" Seth yells as he wheels with blazing eyes on you. That's just the stimulus you need, and you dive for the chair where you've stacked extra masks and bands. You grab one, but Seth grabs you and hauls you backward off your feet. The room turns upside down and hits you in the shoulder with what might be a wall or might even be the ceiling. When the world stops spinning, you spot Seth bending over the bed and pulling the bedspread back.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, shit! Now or never!</i> You run at him on your knees. Naturally, you fall onto your face with your nose at his heels.<br/>
<br/>
"Son of a bitch! Motherfuckers!" Hands close on the back of your neck and you roll into a fetal ball. "I'll—" The rest of Seth's promise is lost in a grinding choke, but the blows to your knees and shins are eloquent enough.<br/>
<br/>
Then they stop. You brace for worse and clench your eyes shut. "Oh, Jesus, Will," Caleb gasps. You curl up harder. "Snap out of it," Caleb says, and you're kicked again in the legs. "We gotta take care of him. Her too."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Take care of—?</i> You open your eyes and look up.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb is kneeling between you and a pair of sprawling, jeans-clad legs. Cautiously you raise up. Seth, his eyes open and his lips peeled back, is staring fixedly at the ceiling. "The fuck did you do?" you whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"I hit 'im with a brain band," Caleb croaks. "Way to take one for the team while I—" He gulps; his face is a livid patchwork of reds and whites. "Anyway, I got 'im. Hope I didn't hurt him too bad on the way to the floor." He wipes his nose. "I don't wanna  pick up any bruises or broken bones when I'm him."<br/>
<br/>
<i>When Caleb is Seth.</i> You get first to your knees, then to your feet. Your chest is heaving and shaking as you survey the fruits of an afternoon: Cindy Vredenburg and Seth Javits, laid out in the motel room, ready to be copied and replaced by yourself and your best friend.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb must be thinking something similar, for after he stands he grips you on the shoulder as he also stares down at them. "Christ, Will," he says. "Just look at who we're going to be."<br/>
<br/>
But not yet. There's thirty frantic minutes of labor to be done first before a new Cindy Vredenburg and a new Seth Javits can lift themselves to their feet and prepare to resume some old lives.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Fuck us, man, look at who we are," you murmur. You're staring at yourself in the mirror with big, wide green eyes, and slowly stroking your long, platinum hair. Your plump, round boobs slowly rise and fall, and there's a little flutter at your throat as you swallow, and swallow again, and swallow again.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, fuck us, man," Caleb agrees. He's standing behind you, and his popped-out eyes are almost as wide as yours. He's scoping himself out, of course, and cradling a slab-like pec. But his eye keeps roving back to you, to your face in the mirror and down to your ass.<br/>
<br/>
"So here we are," you say. "Oh, by the way—" You turn and bump into him as you search for your underwear. "How did you—? How did <i>Seth </i> know," you correct yourself, "where Cindy was?"<br/>
<br/>
"He followed her. He was pissed off." His nostrils flare. "Uh, we're not gonna keep fighting, like they were at the coffee shop, are we?"<br/>
<br/>
You brush past him with a wry smile. At least once a week Seth and Cindy have a volcanic blow up. The latest one started when Seth got a text from Chelsea, asking him to meet her. Cindy had found it on his phone, demanded to know if he'd acted on it, yelled at him when he said he hadn't yet—<i>"Yet?</i> she screamed—and it blew up from there with accusations about who at school each was likely to cheat on the other one with.<br/>
<br/>
In the middle of it, Cindy got Caleb's text, and seized a chance to run off and commiserate with another of Seth's victims.<br/>
<br/>
So no, despite her seeming sympathy, Cindy wasn't much interested in <i>you.</i> You were just a sharp pin she could use to jab into her boyfriend in a small act of private, petty revenge.<br/>
<br/>
You turn back on Caleb with arched eyebrows and pursed lips. "I don't know if we're done fighting," you purr. "Depends on if you're going to keep that appointment with Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
A slow grin spreads over his face. "So we really are these guys now?" he says. He puts out his hands.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't touch me," you snap, and he freezes. "This is gonna take getting used to."<br/>
<br/>
He grimaces and shrugs, then pops his neck. "Yeah, sure, I guess." He looks around, then bends over to snap up Seth's underwear. "But uh, how much of these guys are we going to get used to? Get used to being? Get used to <i>doing?</i>" He gives you a sidelong look as he pulls the tidy whities up his legs.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." You turn your back on him. (Like that will do much good. Caleb will have Seth's memories now, including his memories of taking Cindy through the back door.) "I'm going to have to get used to it before I figure out how much I want to get used to." Your heart is starting to beat hard.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, fuck, man," Caleb sighs. "It's like you're already acting like her." <i>And you're already acting like Seth,</i> you can't help thinking back at him. "What's the point of <i>being</i> these people," he whines, "if we're not going to, you know, <i>be</i> them all the way through?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Be them all way through.</i> You suddenly feel as though you've stepped into the deepest end of a very deep pool, and felt the water close over your head as you plunge downward. <i>How deeply can you impersonate Cindy Vredenburg— How deeply can you </i>be<i> her— While still being Will Prescott?</i><br/>
<br/>
Or is that what's supposed to happen? Is Will Prescott, having <i>become</i> Cindy Vredenburg, supposed to vanish, leaving only Cindy Vredenburg behind?<br/>
<br/>
"What about our Saturday night special?" Caleb asks.<br/>
<br/>
Your face tightens. <i>Beer, a little weed, rap music, and sex-by-the-river.</i> Great sex, it's true. Javits has a long, hard cock and he can turn Cindy into a whimpering puddle of affection with it. <i>We'll do it, but I need time and space to myself</i> vies with <i>No, but we'll totally be Cindy and Seth in public from now on.</i></span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213242311
author_id: seuzz
title: Saving Yourself, If Not Your Virtue
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Fine, you're right, it's Saturday," you tell Caleb. "So do you want to do it now or wait 'til we get to the river?" You turn around and push your breasts out at him.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's—Seth's—eyes bug out. <i>"Now?"</i><br/>
<br/>
"Sure. It's Saturday and we're in a sleazy motel room with our clothes off. Or," you add as Caleb swallows hard, "do you need to go home and jack off a couple times while working up your nerve?"<br/>
<br/>
His mouth falls open, and he pales. Then he flushes beneath the bruise that your doppelganger gave him.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I can do it now," he stammers. "I got — I got it." But he licks his lips.<br/>
<br/>
You almost feel sorry for him. If you were in his place, and he was in yours, you'd probably be begging for a chance to bang Cindy too. And you'd probably be equally terrified because ... Well, because though it would look like Cindy, you'd know it was your best friend underneath, and how weird would <i>that</i> make it?<br/>
<br/>
So you yield, just a little.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on," you say, and you drape an arm around his shoulder and pull close to him. Seth Javits's musk—a blend of armpit sweat, dirty socks, the rubber soles of old sneakers, and swaggering cruelty—wafts up your nose. "I know you want to have this body," you murmur with your mouth close to his. He stiffens under your arm. "You want to have it the way Seth's had it. With your mouth and your tongue and your cock. You want to feel your shaft up her pussy, and to hear her groan and pant for it." Caleb chokes a little through his nose. "You want to <i>be</i> with her," you whisper to him, "the way Seth's been with her, and to do all the things that Seth has done with her, and to do them to her the way <i>he</i> does them."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb whimpers a little. Inside, you giggle.<br/>
<br/>
You're also marveling at how easy it is to talk like this. But it's not so far from some of the sexual teasing Cindy gives her boyfriend when he's pretending to be shy, so you suppose it's just you falling a little bit into character.<br/>
<br/>
It has the effect, though. Caleb abruptly crushes you to his chest and puts his teeth into your neck. You gasp and thrill, for it's one thing to "remember" what it feels like to have Seth Javits at your throat, and another to have his hard teeth nipping into you. Parts of your brain go pleasantly numb, and you can't help wondering if the orgasm—<i>he is going to bring you to orgasm, isn't he?</i>—is going to be as bone-cracking good as Cindy's memories tell you it can be. <br/>
<br/>
He pushes you back onto the bed, and falls atop you.<br/>
<br/>
Then Caleb—<br/>
<br/>
Or is it Seth? It looks like Seth, and he peers down at you with the same smoky arrogance that blooms on Seth's face when he's being masterful. The gleam in his eye tells you that this is going to be one of the quick, hard, and merciless fucks.<br/>
<br/>
So then <i>Seth</i> peels off his underwear, plants his hands on either side of your shoulders, and raises his hard body over yours. You arch your back and part your legs and prepare to receive him. He slides a calloused hand under you and lifts you to meet him. A thing warm and heavy and ... <i>inquisitive</i> ... noses at you. You suck hard on your lower lip.<br/>
<br/>
And as he slides in—slowly, pushing and pulling and rubbing and stroking you until you are wet enough to receive him fully—you find yourself thinking ... <br/>
<br/>
<i>Damn, we should get a motel room more often. His truck, the floor of my walk-in closet, that stinky supply closet at school, they can't any of them beat having a mattress under you!</i><br/>
<br/>
And ...<br/>
<br/>
<i>We'll have the fuck room at school. We'll have a key to it and we can do it up there. Lucy says there's old gym pads in it.</i><br/>
<br/>
And ...<br/>
<br/>
<i>Am I tight enough for him? I'm not squeezing him too hard, am I? Is this just right? God, I want him deeper inside me!</i><br/>
<br/>
And ...<br/>
<br/>
<i>I wonder what he's thinking. Is he thinking anything, or is he just doing it? I hope I'm better than an old sock!</i><br/>
<br/>
And, finally, as you feel him quickening ...<br/>
<br/>
<i>OH JESUS WE FORGOT THE CONDOMS AGAIN! OH FUCKING CHRIST IF MY BEST FRIEND GETS ME PREGNANT—!</i><br/>
<br/>
You almost come up off the bed when that last one hits. Caleb apparently takes it as a signal that you're ready to cum, and he pushes you back down again and starts pile-driving you. "Guh—? Wuh! Wuh! Wuh!" Is that him or you making that noise as he climaxes? You search and scramble about mentally for your own orgasm, but you're too slammed by the horror of being a walking cliche—a pregnant cheerleader who had to sneak herself an abortion!—to find it.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb gives one last push into you, then deflates onto you like a lead balloon. You grimace back tears, push at him— "Goddamn it, get off me!"<br/>
<br/>
"Mmgh." Caleb lifts up long enough to roll onto his back, trailing a mess with him. You scramble up and run into the bathroom, where you wedge yourself under the bathtub faucet and desperately scrub and scrape yourself clean.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Okay, we can keep doing that," you tell Caleb afterward, when you're back in your jeans and t-shirt and tennis shoes, and he, though shirtless, is at least in his pants. "We'll keep doing the Saturday night special too, starting next week."<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs and continues stroking his rippling line of abs (voted "Best in Class" last year by an anonymous committee of Yearbook staffers). A contented smirk plays on his face. <br/>
<br/>
"But you start wearing a rubber. All the time!"<br/>
<br/>
He frowns. "I thought you were on birth control."<br/>
<br/>
"I am! Cindy is! But I'm not—!" You take a deep breath. "What if it doesn't work on me, man? What if it doesn't work on masks?"<br/>
<br/>
"What if my batter don't work on masks?" he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not taking that chance! God! You <i>asshole!</i>" You smack him in the shoulder. "<i>You</i> can have your fun and not worry about it! But I'm not taking any chances!"<br/>
<br/>
He looks offended. "Chill out, dude. It's like you've let the real Cindy out."<br/>
<br/>
"And you've let the real Seth out!"<br/>
<br/>
"Little Seth, you mean?" He pats his zipper.<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up! It's dicks on top of dicks with you!" Your eyes narrow. "You're acting like Seth, man, the real Seth. Unless this <i>is</i> the real you, and it turns out you're the same model of douchebag as him, only geekier!"<br/>
<br/>
At least he flinches at that. "I'm just having fun," he murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, we'll have fun and you'll wear a rubber, but that's all."<br/>
<br/>
He frowns. "What do you mean, that's all? What would I be missing?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Jesus! It really is only about the sex with him, isn't it?</i><br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to do the whole 'girlfriend' thing at school with you," you inform him with folded arms. "Or at parties. Or, at least, not as much."<br/>
<br/>
He looks bewildered. "What about being in character? Aren't you supposed to be Cindy, and isn't Cindy supposed to be my—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who am I, man? Really?" You narrow your eyes.<br/>
<br/>
He winces, but still he argues. "But I thought you wanted to be Cindy," he grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Well, that's the problem, isn't it?</i> If you let him fuck you and you dangle off him in school and out of school, giggling and drooling over him— And if you get into wall-banging fights with him when he looks at other girls— And if you whine to your girlfriends about him when you're mad at him and brag to them about him when you're not— Well, then, how much of <i>you</i> will be left?<br/>
<br/>
"Look," you say as you struggle to find the words to explain it. "Do you want to be Seth?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well ... sure. That's how come I'm—"<br/>
<br/>
"I mean, <i>be</i> Seth. So totally that there's nothing left of <i>you.</i>" Caleb says nothing. "'Cos that's what I'm worried about. I want it to be <i>us. Us,</i> man!" you emphasize. "Us <i>pretending</i> to be Cindy and Seth, and having what they got and doing what they do, but it still being <i>us.</i> And us being able to hang out and talk and do stuff like we did when it ... When it <i>was</i> us. But you know." Your squirm. "I want it to be us like it was before," you repeat, "only with more sexy bits."<br/>
<br/>
He blinks hard, once. "What does that have to do with the way we act at school?"<br/>
<br/>
"I want to keep some distance between us, so we're not a hundred percent Seth and Cindy. Only, like thirty-five percent. We just be them enough that everyone thinks we're them."<br/>
<br/>
He looks dubious and a little confused. "But we still do the Saturday night special?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," you sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"And sometimes on weekdays?"<br/>
<br/>
"We'll flip a coin for those."<br/>
<br/>
"Pff. Alright. You set the pace, dude." He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes. "You got the pussy so you crack the whip."<br/>
<br/>
It's all you can do to keep from kicking him. But that's something that <i>Cindy</i> would do.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You drove up separately to the motel, so you drive off separately after Seth returns the key and officially vacates the room. He takes all the magical supplies as well and drives home. You return to your own house.<br/>
<br/>
Lucy isn't home, so you have to sneak into her bedroom to raid it for extra birth control supplies. Then back in your bedroom you scan social media for contact information for the sophomores. Grant's is the first you find, and you send him a text with an attached selfie of Cindy: <i>Will prescott says hi! Tell the others</i><br/>
<br/>
Thirty minutes later you're negotiating for a cheerleader business meeting with the Garners when Grant replies: <i>cool i cld use help w kaylee.</i><br/>
<br/>
You chew on your cheek. You suppose you could help Grant get to the girl he's going to replace, but you thought "Ethan" was going to work on that. And you need to talk to Eva and Jessica about offing Chelsea as squad captain. </span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132423111
author_id: seuzz
title: Two Ambushes
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You text Grant back: <i>um ok why me?</i><br/>
<br/>
There's a very long pause before he replies: <i>ur chereleder now riite?<br/>
<br/>
ys</i><br/>
<br/>
Another long pause. Then: <i>k-lee want tobe chereleedr so u can tak to her?</i><br/>
<br/>
Okay, it makes sense now. Still, you want to know more about it all, so after some back-and-forthing Grant agrees to meet you at the Dairy Queen near his house.<br/>
<br/>
As you touch up your mascara, part of you is thinking it's very weird that you, Cindy Vredenburg, will be meeting up with a geeky sophomore boy. But another part of you wryly reflects that it's going to be an even weirder meeting for even weirder purposes than that.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Forty minutes later.</i> You freeze on entering the Dairy Queen, and it's not on account of the blast of cold air. Packed into one side of a booth just inside the door are three sophomores, and they look up at you as one. <br/>
<br/>
You're tempted to breeze on past while pretending not to know them.<br/>
<br/>
Really, it's bad enough that Grant is bouncing up and down with a shit-eating grin smeared across his face. Worse is the way that Ethan Clayborne, looking very healthy in his WHS Wrestling t-shirt and mesh shorts, is hunched over in the seat. With his hands clasped between his knees, it's obvious that he's nursing an ardent hard-on as he stares at you.<br/>
<br/>
But worst of all, sitting between them— <br/>
<br/>
<i>Why the hell did Grant bring </i>Paulina<i> along? And why is she looking so amused?</i><br/>
<br/>
Yes, you're <i>this freaking close</i> to strolling on past while turning them a very cold shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
Except there's no reason that Cindy Vredenburg would be inside a Dairy Queen <i>except</i> to meet someone.<br/>
<br/>
Anyway, you've already locked eyes with them, and Grant is waving excitedly. You suck in a breath, put on a bright, tight smile, and glide over to their table. "Hey. Um, Grant, isn't it?" you say. "And ... Ethan?"<br/>
<br/>
Grant giggles. "You know Paulina too," he says.<br/>
<br/>
You widen your smile even as you furrow your brow. "Um—" you say as you contemplate the tall, skinny, brown-haired girl who ought to be a complete stranger to you.<br/>
<br/>
"Hi, <i>Will,</i>" Paulina smirks. "You're looking really good. That t-shirt and jeans really show off your figure."<br/>
<br/>
The smile falls off your face, and then you fall off your feet into the booth opposite them. Grant claps his hands over his face and squeals; Ethan leans farther forward, until his chin is practically touching the table, to stare up at you from under his brows.<br/>
<br/>
"Bhodi told me what was going on," Paulina continues. She shuts her eyes and rolls her shoulders in a little shrug.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh?" you say, and the grunt sticks in your throat. You dart your eyes between Grant and Ethan. But Grant only continues to grin and titter while Ethan drinks you in deeply with his large, hazel-tinted eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh," Paulina echoes. Her smile deepens in a way that you don't like, even though it doesn't look threatening. "I hear you even made a copy of that book before you gave it to Lindsay."<br/>
<br/>
You don't answer. You can't even bring yourself to blink.<br/>
<br/>
Grant tries charging in to the rescue. "She's cool with it, man!" he exclaims. "She even went to the—" He jumps a little, and gasps. "She knows all who we are," he continues as his smile turns sickly, "all who we, uh, want to be. She wants to help!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah? Why?"<br/>
<br/>
Paulina shrugs again. "What am I supposed to do, Will? Call the FBI?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>You could tell Lindsay,</i> you think. <i>You could try tearing all the masks off everyone and kicking our asses.<br/>
<br/>
You could try using that golem paint, if you knew how it works, to lock us all up so we can't do this stuff.</i><br/>
<br/>
A long moment's silence engulfs the table. "Well, I guess that means we've got a lot to talk about," you finally announce. "Like—"<br/>
<br/>
"Like Kaylee!" Grant exclaims. "Paulina came along to explain how you should do it."<br/>
<br/>
"Kaylee wants to be cheerleader," Paulina says as you gape back at her, too shocked to challenge the idea that you need <i>help.</i> "You're a cheerleader," she continues, and a smug little smile tugs at her lips. "So Kaylee would love to talk to you about cheerleading. She'd especially love it if you invited her out to your house. Isn't that the way you're supposed to do it?" Her amusement deepens. "Get them alone so you can replace them?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." <i>Paulina really thinks I need that explained to me,</i> you wonder. "I can see how that could work. Anything else?" <i>Anything that isn't totally obvious?</i><br/>
<br/>
"No. Except you'll need some kind of story to explain how you know who she is and how you know she wants to be a cheerleader." Paulina's eyes twinkle.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I guess," you drawl. "I assume you want to explain how to do <i>that,</i> too, right?"<br/>
<br/>
But instead of answering, Paulina blinks and gazes over the top of your head with a thoughtful purse of her lips. <i>Yeah, not so easy, is it?</i> you think at her.<br/>
<br/>
It's Ethan, to your surprise, who voices the answer. "Tell her you ran into me and Grant," he says in his surprisingly rumbly baritone. "We were jogging in your neighborhood and got to talking and we mentioned her to you. So you said you'd talk to her."<br/>
<br/>
"That sounds good," Paulina says. You shrug and take out your cell phone. "You want me to write the text for you?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I think I can manage that much," you snap. "Who do you think is the airhead here, me or Cindy?"<br/>
<br/>
Paulina freezes, but Grant laughs. "You are blonde," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up."<br/>
<br/>
But you do take their suggestions when you find the phrasing tricky in a few spots. "Can we come along too?" Grant asks after you've sent it.<br/>
<br/>
"You better," you retort, "if you want to be around when we do the thing." <br/>
<br/>
<i>So maybe that's why Paulina wants to try running things,</i> you find yourself thinking. <i>Because Grant's an idiot maybe she thinks we're all idiots too.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Oh, wow, I <i>love</i> your back yard!" Kaylee Mercier gushes as she presses her nose to the sliding glass door that leads onto the deck. "Do you have parties here? Ell-oh-ell," she giggles, "of course you do." She pulls the door open and calls to Grant and Ethan and Paulina, who are standing in a tight huddle in the middle of the yard.<br/>
<br/>
Lucky for you she's not looking for a reply, for you're still in too much shock (the second of the afternoon) to offer any. Kaylee Mercier isn't just cast from the same mold as your archenemy Chelsea Cooper. She looks like a tweak of a Chelsea clone. She's got the same long, soft blonde hair that bounces in loose cataracts to her shoulders; the same wide forehead and slightly pug nose; the same toothy smile and pert gleam in her eye. The same short torso balanced atop wide hips and strong legs.<br/>
<br/>
Put Kaylee Mercier in a cheerleader uniform and have her show up for practice, and the other girls might not notice until the period was over that it wasn't Chelsea leading them.<br/>
<br/>
The only difference is that she hasn't called you a "chimp-faced bitch" at the top of her lungs in front of half the school, like Chelsea did your junior year at one of the games.<br/>
<br/>
Well, like she called <i>Cindy,</i> you correct yourself. You lean against the door frame with folded arms and try to disassociate yourself from Cindy (and Kaylee from Chelsea) as you watch Grant's intended bounce across the lawn to greet the others. You're not the least bit surprised when she slips an arm around Ethan's waist; you're only a little surprised when Ethan puts his own arm around her and smiles down into her face. You glance at Grant: He looks like he's about to burst.<br/>
<br/>
Paulina catches your eye and says something to Kaylee, who turns around to squint and smile at you. Then all four turn around and walk slowly back to the house. "Like, hurry!" Grant hisses as he brushes past you.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll do my best," you mutter back. "Around the corner and down the stairs at the end of the hallway!" you order everyone. Cindy's dad has already glanced twice into the parlor with a frown on his face, which would be reason enough to get everyone down into the old "family playroom" even if you didn't other, more occult reasons for getting out of sight. "I have to run upstairs for a second, but there's a refrigerator and pantry down there with snacks for the guys," you continue, "and we have <i>all afternoon!</i>" <br/>
<br/>
Paulina glances back at you even as she continues chatting with Kaylee. Her tight expression is even more eloquent than Grant's plea: <i>Hurry!</i><br/>
<br/>
But it's still nearly five minutes before you can get up to and down from your bedroom with the mask and brain band, for Cindy's mom stops you on the stairs to ask about the kids below and how you know them and why they are here. When you finally trundle down into the converted basement, you find the girls and Grant perched on the stiff-backed horsehair sofa. But Ethan is on his feet and striding up quickly to meet you. "I'll do it," he murmurs at you.<br/>
<br/>
"You'll do— What?"<br/>
<br/>
"The thing." He pushes up close to you and fumbles at the sack with the mask. "I'll do it."<br/>
<br/>
You were planning on some talk first—a lull before a quiet ambush—but Ethan yanks the bag and mask from your feeble grip. Your heart goes into your throat as he swaggers over to the sofa, and Paulina and Grant scramble back as he straddles and falls onto Kaylee's lap. His broad back screens the deed, but when he stands up again to pop his neck, Kaylee is slumping onto her side. "She's all yours, man," he tells Grant, who for once is struck dumb.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So that's how you get Kaylee," Paulina says. Her voice is still shaking, and she's very white in the face. "Now, here's how you get Alejandra for Joe."</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324231111
author_id: seuzz
title: What Paulina Had to Say
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Throw a party," Paulina says. "That's how you can get Alejandra out here." She glances around the refurbished basement with a searching eye. "You probably have a lot of— I mean," she corrects herself, "<i>this girl</i> probably has a lot of parties." She looks you up and down.<br/>
<br/>
You swallow your resentment and tamp back the retort, <i>I </i>am<i> this girl now.</i> "They've been known to happen," you coolly reply. "But this is pretty short notice for one."<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't have to be a real party. You just have to— Hey! <i>Quit that!</i>" She snaps her fingers at Grant, who flinches away from Kaylee's unconscious body. You're not sure, but you think he might have snatched his hand away from the front of her blouse. He shoots a quick grin at Ethan.<br/>
<br/>
"Help me corral these idiots," Paulina mutters at you. "Can you wait upstairs?" she says to the boys.<br/>
<br/>
"I got a better idea," you say. "Ethan— Justin— Whoever you are. Can you pick her up, carry her in here?" You point to the bathroom door. <br/>
<br/>
Now Ethan grins at Grant, who gasps indignantly back. He bends at the knees, scoops Kaylee into his arms, and straightens up. A slight strain shows in his face, but pride gleams in his eyes as well. He follows you into the bathroom where he carefully lowers Kaylee onto the cold tile between the toilet and the sink.<br/>
<br/>
"I suppose we better undress her," says Paulina, who has followed you in. She pushes the boys out and shuts the door on them. Then she does a double-take at you.<br/>
<br/>
You can see the thought in her eyes: <i>This is really another guy too.</i><br/>
<br/>
But she says nothing, and only drops next to Kaylee and tugs at her shoes and socks. You go to work on Kaylee's blouse. "You were saying I should throw a party," you prompt Paulina.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. None of us really know Alejandra. Except for Evie, and you probably don't want <i>her</i> around when you do the thing."<br/>
<br/>
"How is Evie?" you quietly ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I guess." Having gotten Kaylee's skirt off her, Paulina pauses to study her tight, frilly underwear. "She missed a lot of school, has some catching up to do.<br/>
<br/>
You can't find any words for what you really want to know, except for the blunt ones you'd rather avoid: <i>Is she doing okay after that thing I did to her? Does she have, like, PTSD?<br/>
<br/>
Has she forgiven me, or said anything about me at all?</i><br/>
<br/>
"What about Lindsay?" you ask instead.<br/>
<br/>
"Why are you worried about Lindsay?" Paulina retorts. "I guess she's looking after Evie. I wish she'd leave her alone, actually."<br/>
<br/>
"Why, what's she doing to her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, hovering, being all motherly. Talking crap about you and your friend, naturally." She looks up at you. "Are you worried about her, about what she's going to do to you? Is that why you're asking about her?"<br/>
<br/>
Your chest turns very cold. "Why, is she planning something?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. But she's got that book, and if I were you I'd be—" She makes a face. "Well, I'd be worried if I was in your place."<br/>
<br/>
Your breath quickens.<br/>
<br/>
"But I don't think she'd do anything without telling me or Bhodi," she goes on. "Anyway, it's not like she <i>can</i> do anything to you. She doesn't know that you're—" Again, she glances you up and down. "And where's your friend Caleb? Has he also gone and gotten himself a—" Her lip curls satirically. "A transplant?"<br/>
<br/>
You don't distrust Paulina, exactly, but neither do you want to tell her that you are now Caleb's girlfriend. "He's pretending to be one of, uh, <i>this girl's</i> friends."<br/>
<br/>
Paulina gives you a long and steady stare. "Okay, be mysterious," she says. "If you didn't want me knowing who <i>you</i> were now, you shouldn't have told Grant and them."<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't know that he'd tell <i>you,</i>" you retort. "Why <i>are</i> you helping us out with, uh—" You point to Kaylee. She is naked now except for her bra and panties.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." Then she adds, "No, I do know. Bhodi told me what was going on, and—" She hesitates. "Lindsay's still mad enough at you and Caleb to do something. Maybe. I don't want her knowing that Grant and Justin and them are doing it too."<br/>
<br/>
You fight down a grimace. It sounds like Paulina wouldn't stop Lindsay from killing <i>you.</i> It's only because Bhodi's friends are mixed up in it that she's not telling Lindsay now. "You could try to stop them," you point out.<br/>
<br/>
She actually laughs at that. "Have you ever tried to stop Grant from doing something?" she snorts. "And they're all egging each other on. You couldn't pry Justin out of that mask he's wearing now, not for anything." She shrugs. "Still, I guess I get the appeal. You get something better, get something you don't have. That's what's in it for Justin." She looks down at Kaylee, and snorts again. "I should go out there and punch <i>Grant</i> in the back of the head, though."<br/>
<br/>
"You could stop him from putting on the mask, turning himself into her."<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, you can't stop Grant from doing whatever he wants. In fact, I'll bet you any amount of money you want," she archly declares, "that Justin's sitting on him now, got him pinned to that black leather couch thing, to keep him from busting in through the door. Or at least listening at it."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure you could stop him," you reply. "It's easy. <i>You</i> could put on Kaylee's mask, tell Grant he has to be someone else. Tell him— Well—" You crimson at the hypocrisy of what you're about to say. "Tell him he has to be a <i>guy.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to be Kaylee Mercier!" Paulina exclaims. "She's an airhead! I mean, she's a sweet girl and all, I got nothing against her. But let Grant be her. He wants—" She makes a face. "If it wasn't Kaylee it'd have to be some other girl. He wants <i>things</i> to play with, and he'd pitch a fit if we made him be a guy."<br/>
<br/>
So you drop the suggestion, which maybe you weren't even serious about anyway. Besides, you're still struck by a novel implication of what Paulina said: that someone could look just like Chelsea Cooper while still being "a sweet girl."<br/>
<br/>
As you're mulling this, a bluish glow envelops Kaylee's face; the mask appears there, and Paulina catches it with a seeming expertise that surprises and impresses you. "I guess now we should put Grant's mask on her?" she asks. "Before she wakes up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Someone's told you how this works."<br/>
<br/>
"It just seems like the obvious thing to do. We should probably get her out the rest of her things, though. <i>God,</i> I can just picture <i>Grant</i> waking up inside panties and a bra."<br/>
<br/>
You smile tightly to yourself, and lean forward to find the hooks behind Kaylee's shoulders. But Paulina stops you. "Maybe I should handle the rest of this bit by myself, Will," she says.<br/>
<br/>
You blush but take the hint.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Paulina joins you and Ethan out in the rumpus room a few minutes later while Grant ducks into the bathroom to get himself into his new disguise. His doppelganger joins you a few minutes later, looking abashed and frustrated. When opens his mouth to speak, though, Ethan shuts him up with a rumbly, "Quiet."<br/>
<br/>
As you wait, Paulina finally explains her idea for a "party": You will pretend to be throwing a large party to which Andrew Webb, Ethan Clayborne, and Kaylee Mercier (three of the more popular sophomores) have been invited, and they in turn will invite Alejandra along. Of course, there will be no such party, but once Alejandra is inside the house you will be able to ambush her just as you ambushed Kaylee.<br/>
<br/>
<i>What if Alejandra wound up inviting some of her own friends along?</i> you object. Paulina thinks that unlikely, but you don't want to take a chance.<br/>
<br/>
But you come up with a variation on Paulina's idea after checking a new text from Caleb. He has wound up at the house of Catherine Muskov, where a mild, spontaneous weekend party has been going on for hours and looks to be going on for many more. He says that Catherine is asking where you are, and he's feeling very awkward—<i>fucking weird</i>—about not having his girlfriend there with him.<br/>
<br/>
Of course you knew about the party, for Catherine has sent you a couple of texts of her own in the meantime, which you've ignored along with other texts from girls in Cindy's social circle. But now you propose to Paulina that "Ethan and Kaylee" invite Alejandra out to Catherine's. "People are always crashing her house," you tell Paulina. "And not just seniors. No one will think it funny if sophomores show up. Especially—" You glance at the buff and athletic Ethan Clayborne. Catherine is co-captain of the track team, and she likes to have plenty of beefcake around, even if she does have a boyfriend of her own.<br/>
<br/>
Paulina is skeptical—<i>It'll be a big party, right? How will we get Alejandra by herself?</i>—but you assure her that you and the rest of the conspirators will be able to scheme her into a dark corner for the replacement.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
In the end, Paulina agrees to the plan, and you text Catherine to say you'll be over soon. You're given pause, though, when in her reply Catherine cautions you that Chelsea will be there too.<br/>
<br/>
But will that be a problem? You give the Grant-golem a thoughtful look-over.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shove Chelsea under Grant's mask? And give Kaylee a mask of Chelsea, at least long enough for her to quit the cheerleader squad and endorse you as squad captain?</i> Or maybe it could be a permanent replacement. Kaylee wants to be a cheerleader; and Paulina assures you she's "a sweet girl."</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213242311112
author_id: seuzz
title: The Brain Twister
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>After texting Catherine, you and the others sit back to wait for Grant to come out in his new disguise.<br/>
<br/>
You wait. And you wait. And you wait.<br/>
<br/>
Glances are exchanged. Golem-Grant hangs his head and grins to himself.<br/>
<br/>
Ethan finally trudges over to the bathroom door. "Dude, are you dead in there?" he barks.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't come in!" a feminine voice shouts back.<br/>
<br/>
"Then stop fingering yourself! Get dressed, and get out here, we got places to go!"<br/>
<br/>
The door muffles Grant's reply. Ethan swaggers back to the sofa, and whaps the fake Grant on the back of the head.<br/>
<br/>
At last, a minute or so later, the bathroom door fumbles open and Kaylee Mercier totters out with a wide grin stretching across her pink, shining face. "Oh fuck me!" she gushes as she clumsily resettles her bosom with the palms of her hands. "This is going to take, like, so much freaking getting used to!"<br/>
<br/>
You cringe, and dodge a sidelong glance from Paulina. Does she think <i>you</i> were acting like this goofbag when <i>you</i> first put on Cindy's mask?<br/>
<br/>
"God, I'm so glad I'm not in, like, heels or anything," Kaylee continues. She twists around to rub and admire her butt—which is, admittedly, one of the girl's best features. "I feel like I'm all totally off-balance and stuff! Maybe this girl need a boob reduction!" She giggles. "Or a boob enbiggenment!"<br/>
<br/>
"You're fine the way the way you are," you snap as you haul yourself to your feet. "So, do you know Alejandra Cortes?" You have to repeat the question when Kaylee only gapes back. "Alejandra Cortes," you say for the third time through gritted teeth. "Do. You <i>Know.</i> Her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, sure. Her." Kaylee titters again. "The girl we're getting for Joe. Oh, <i>fuck!"</i> She claps her hands over her face and guffaws. "Can you <i>picture</i> Joe and boobage? Oh, fuck!" she gasps again, "That's gonna be, like—"<br/>
<br/>
"But <i>Kaylee</i> knows Alejandra, right?" You tamp back the urge to haul off and slug her. "Doesn't <i>Kaylee</i> know Alejandra?" That's what Paulina had told you, that Kaylee was more likely than anyone else to know an 11th-grade soccer player.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" Kaylee giggles again.<br/>
<br/>
No, you don't slug her. But you do grab and hold her by the chin. Her eyes pop in surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen," you growl into her face. "Get your fucking head in gear. Do you understand me, Grant? Get your new, <i>fucking</i> brain in gear. You <i>did</i> put that metal band on, didn't you?" You dig your nails into her cheeks, and Kaylee cries out in a soft whimper. "You didn't just pop yourself into her panties and call it a day, did you? You <i>do</i> have her memories, don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, sure!" she squeals, and squirms inside your grip. "I just—!"<br/>
<br/>
Ethan's voice booms out from behind and above your shoulder. "Stop fucking around, man," he rumbles. "So you got boobs now, so fucking what? You gotta be serious about this."<br/>
<br/>
Kaylee pales and swallows; her eyes roll in their sockets. <br/>
<br/>
"Okay," she stammers. "Um ... Alejandra Cortes. Oh, sure! I ... Kaylee knows her! Sort of." She twists about, but still you keep hold of her.<br/>
<br/>
"Good enough to text her?" you ask. "You know her good enough you can text her about a party she should come out to?"<br/>
<br/>
"M-maybe?"<br/>
<br/>
You glance back at Paulina, who raises a skeptical eyebrow in answer. Golem-Grant has covered his face with his hands and is peeping out at you through his fingers.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. Can you text Alejandra?" you ask Kaylee. "You got some way of contacting her?" Kaylee's brow furrows, then she nods. "Good." You let go of her, but continue to glower into her face. "Send her a text or a voice chat or whatever the fuck you need to reach her. Tell her you're at Catherine Muskov's house, and there's a raging party going on, and there's this really cute guy who is all talking about her, about Alejandra, I mean. Tell her she totally needs to come out to Catherine's so she can meet him, 'cos this guy is <i>hot.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah? Okay, who is he?" Kaylee asks as she fumbles at her phone.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. Just a guy."<br/>
<br/>
"I need a name!" she pleads.<br/>
<br/>
"No you don't. You didn't catch it. Fine, tell her he's from Eastman," you add when Kaylee's expression turns reproachful. "He's from Eastman, and he's, like, a football player or something. And he's beef stacked on top of cake with extra slices of beef and extra slabs of cake piled on top, and he's talking about <i>her.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Kaylee's eyes widen, and she swallows as she bends over her phone. <br/>
<br/>
Silence envelops the room as she taps a message in. It takes her a suspiciously short time to do so, and on a hunch you demand to see it before she can hit "Send."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," you sigh as you glance over it, for it reads like a badly edited business memo: <i>Thers eastman football plyaer here at catherine muskovs whosi very hot and taking ab u. Come over n meet hm.</i> "Is that the kind of thing Kaylee would write?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I don't know!" Tears pop into Kaylee's eyes. "I'm not used to— I just wrote what you told me to!"<br/>
<br/>
You grimace to yourself, for even you can tell that you're acting too much like a bully, even though Grant deserves it. You suck in then let out a deep breath.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen," you say, and now you take Grant's fake face gently between your palms. "You have to write it like Kaylee would write it. I'll give you the facts, but <i>you</i> have to think like <i>Kaylee</i> would think, and you have to write it like <i>Kaylee</i> would write it." <br/>
<br/>
But Grant only returns you a doubtful frown. <br/>
<br/>
"Okay, think of it like this," you continue as a sudden inspiration smites you. "It's like you're a spy. You're still <i>you,</i> Grant. You're still you, only you're disguised inside this new body and you've got some new memories that you have to use. So you're like a spy. You have to <i>fool</i> everyone into thinking that you're Kaylee Mercier. You have to <i>fool</i> them," you repeat, "and to fool them, you have to act like her, and talk like her, and you even have to <i>think</i> like her. You have to pretend to be her so totally that even when no one is watching, you're still being her. Okay? Because you're like a spy under deep cover." <br/>
<br/>
Grant blinks, but there's a dawning light of comprehension in his eyes, so you release him. "You have to <i>be</i> her while still being yourself," you continue. "Like I'm being Cindy Vredenburg—" You favor Kaylee with an arrogant little toss of your head. "While still totally being Will Prescott. You see?"<br/>
<br/>
Kaylee nods, and her expression turns thoughtful. "I think so," she murmurs. Then she closes her eyes, and says, "Give me the facts again? Where we are, what's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're at Catherine Muskov's. She's the co-captain of the track team—"<br/>
<br/>
"Tch, I totally know Catherine. Kaylee's on the track team too, you know. She's been out to— Oh!" Her eyes pop open again. "Weekend party! I was— I mean Kaylee was—"<br/>
<br/>
"You <i>are</i> Kaylee now," you remind her.<br/>
<br/>
"Right." A smile tugs at her lips. "I was thinking of going out there, but then <i>you—</i> But we're telling Alejandra there's a guy out here, at Catherine's? An Eastman guy?"<br/>
<br/>
"A football player. And he's hot."<br/>
<br/>
"And he's talking about Alejandra," Kaylee murmurs. Her expression tightens. Then she shivers all over, and squeals. "Oh my God! Have to tell Alejandra, she <i>has</i> to get her butt out here!" Rapidly she begins tapping at her phone.<br/>
<br/>
You let out your breath—you're surprised to realize you'd been holding it in—and cross back over to the sofa, where Paulina is sitting with her hands folded atop her knees. "Nice hypnotism job," she tells you. She turns to golem-Grant, and grabs him by the hair. "And you left us this one I still get to abuse," she adds as it cries out.<br/>
<br/>
"He just needed some reminding. You glance back at Ethan. "How are <i>you</i> doing, man? Do I need to give you the same kind of talk?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nah," he grunts, and rolls his shoulders. "I'm pretty solid in here."<br/>
<br/>
So you turn back to Paulina. "What about you? Can we find a skinsuit for you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," she replies, and her lips whiten. "I don't mind being me."<br/>
<br/>
You twinge a little at the implied rebuke, but affect to ignore it. "Just as long as you don't have a problem with what the rest of us are doing," you say. When she doesn't reply, you ask, "Do you?"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to worry about me."<br/>
<br/>
"What about Lindsay?"<br/>
<br/>
She doesn't answer right away. "I'll keep an eye on Lindsay."<br/>
<br/>
"Do you think you can get that book away from her?"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you copied it all out." Paulina's tone is sharp.<br/>
<br/>
You make a face. "I guess I'm mostly thinking I don't want someone else making masks behind my back." Actually, you're mostly thinking you don't want Lindsay reading up on the golem paint, and thinking that maybe she could use it against you and Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"Lindsay's not going to make anything out of the book," Paulina assures you. "She thinks it's evil. She's going to get rid of it. Burn it or something."<br/>
<br/>
"All set!" Kaylee chirps behind you. "Alejandra says she's going to come out to Catherine's. So, I guess we better go out there? Or at least I should?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll pick up Joe," Ethan says as he takes out his own phone. "We should get Andy— Uh, <i>Webb</i> out there too. You coming?" He glances between you and Paulina.<br/>
<br/>
She shrugs, and you've already told Catherine you'll show up at her house.<br/>
<br/>
But you've still got some cheerleader business to deal with, and you think—you hope—that these guys can pull off a substitution without your direct supervision.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132423111121
author_id: seuzz
title: Piled Higher and Deeper
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Catherine Muskov lives on the other side of town, and on the drive out you have plenty of time to regret hitching a ride with Kaylee and Paulina instead of taking your own car.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God!" Kaylee prattles while idling at a stoplight. "You know what just <i>hit</i> me? Like, right now? I was almost totally buckbonkey with <i>Ethan Clayborne</i> back there at your house!" She twists around to dimple at you in the back seat. "Can you believe it?"<br/>
<br/>
"You weren't nothing with Ethan," Paulina corrects her. "He just carried Kaylee in there for us."<br/>
<br/>
"Still, he was <i>carrying me!</i>" She arches her neck and back, and when the light turns green the car lurches as she punches the gas. "What do you think?" she gabbles. "Me and Ethan? Together?"<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, you <i>want</i> to hook up with him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you?" Kaylee giggles. "Come on, Paulina, who's your type?"<br/>
<br/>
Mortification fills Paulina's eyes as she glances back at you. But having talked Grant into acting in character, you don't really want to tell him to drop back out again. Didn't you tell him he needed to <i>be</i> Kaylee even when no one was looking?<br/>
<br/>
So it's a very long ride out to Catherine's as Kaylee Mercier, who doesn't know Paulina all that well, tries to get to know her new friend.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But it's just as well that you took only one car, for when you arrive at Catherine's you find cars lining both sides of the street all up and down the block. "I saw my boyfriend's truck back there," you tell Kaylee and Paulina as you turn up the sidewalk toward the front door, "so I'm going to have to go hang out with him." You scowl as Kaylee giggles. "What's so funny?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing. Only I'm laughing 'cos Paulina won't." Her eyes glint meaningfully.<br/>
<br/>
You feel your jaw tighten. "But I'll try to shake him off long enough," you say (maybe a little too loudly) "to help you guys with Alejandra." You grasp the door handle. "Come find me when you're ready to do the switch."<br/>
<br/>
"If we need you, Will," Paulina says. Kaylee titters again.<br/>
<br/>
Even with all the cars out front, you're not prepared for how many high school kids are piled up inside Catherine's house. Boys and girls, upperclassmen and underclassmen, Westside students and Eastman students and maybe even some who don't go to either school—all are draped across each other or stacked up two or three four deep on the floors and sofas and even on the stairs. Soft music thumps from a distant room, and it's perfectly audible too, for most everyone, whether sitting or leaning alone in a corner, or snuggling up intimately in couples or trios or quartets, is absorbed in their cell phones, and murmuring or laughing quietly at them. <br/>
<br/>
"Mingle," you tell Paulina and Kaylee. "I'll catch up with you guys later." The former nods; the latter doesn't need to be told twice, and trots into another room with a bright smile. You glance around, then head through an arched doorway into a sitting room that's carpeted with bodies. You pick your way through and over them with a tight, apologetic smile until you reach a short corridor leading into the kitchen, where there's lots of loud, manly voices talking over each other. Guys in Westside and Eastman lettermen jackets turn to watch you with open admiration as you slide between and among them, but they don't pause to address or greet you. On the other side of the kitchen you look out onto a back porch and the yard beyond, but still you see no sign of Seth. <br/>
<br/>
So finally you just ask someone. "Hey," you say as you nudge Luke Richardson in the hip with your toe. He's perched on the bottommost step of the staircase with his arm around a girl you don't recognize. He looks up from his phone and brushes his sloppy, reddish-brown locks away from his bright green eyes. "You seen my boyfriend around?" <br/>
<br/>
"Seth?" he says. "He's around."<br/>
<br/>
"I know he's around, I saw his truck out front." You flash a quick, tight smile at his girl, who is peering up at you narrowly, like a dog worried you're thinking of snatching away its dinner bowl.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I saw him earlier," Luke says, "but I don't know where—" He gnaws at his lip. "Maybe upstairs?"<br/>
<br/>
You crane your neck to look up the staircase—so many people you'd have to step over and around to get to the second floor. Maybe if you texted him—<br/>
<br/>
"Your boyfriend's in so much trouble," says the girl. <br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"The guys you're stealing from us. They're gonna kick his ass." A smirk plays on her lips. "His ass and everyone on the Westside team."<br/>
<br/>
"Lori goes to Eastman," Luke says. "Shh," he tells her.<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever," you snort back. "Can I get through?" You put a foot on the step where they're sitting.<br/>
<br/>
"They're better than all your guys put together," the girl sneers as you brush past. "They're gonna kick your asses."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I guess they're gonna kick <i>your</i> asses," you retort, "since they're playing for <i>us</i> now." The girl mutters an obscenity at your heels, but you're too concentrated on pressing up the stairs to make another retort. <i>How in the hell,</i> you are wondering, <i>are we gonna find a quiet spot to knock out that girl so Joe can switch with her?</i><br/>
<br/>
Catherine's bedroom is at the end of a long hallway, and that's where you finally corner Seth. He's sprawling on the bed and tapping at his phone while his hostess, her boyfriend Michael, and Christine Coolidge of the swim team huddle up nearby. Christine, who is pressed up close to Seth, does a massive double-take at you, turns as white as a sack of bleached flour, and leaps off the bed and runs from the room. You heave yourself into her place and plant your palms on your boyfriend's chest. "Hi," you snap at him.<br/>
<br/>
"There you are," he snaps back. "'Bout fucking time."<br/>
<br/>
"Are we still fighting?"<br/>
<br/>
"Guess so. Unless—" He grabs you with a strong arm and pulls you down onto him. "Unless this is foreplay for some hot, angry make-up sex."<br/>
<br/>
"You guys want some privacy?" Catherine asks.<br/>
<br/>
"No, we're fine." You struggle back onto your elbows. <br/>
<br/>
"You know," Michael says, "watching you guys kind of makes me wish <i>we</i> had more fights." He squeezes his girlfriend's hand.<br/>
<br/>
"You have to practice it. On second thought," you say as Chris Ratliff, one of the blonde beefcakes on the football team, comes barreling into the room, "can me and Seth have a <i>few</i> minutes by ourselves?"<br/>
<br/>
For a moment no one moves. Then with a groan and a sigh Catherine and Michael clamber off the bed. "Just keep your clothes on," she says, which is a bit rich coming from a barefoot girl who's wearing nothing but red short-shorts and a halter top. <br/>
<br/>
"I just want to talk to him a moment," you reply as they tug a baffled-looking Chris out of the room with them. After they're gone, you stretch over and push the door closed.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not getting lucky tonight, am I?" Seth says. His face is red beneath that purple bruise, and his one good eye glares balefully at you.<br/>
<br/>
"You got lucky this afternoon, and I just need to talk now. I brought some of the guys out here. You know." You lower your voice. "Justin and Grant and them."<br/>
<br/>
"What for?"<br/>
<br/>
"To do a switch. The girl Joe wants, this is the only place we could catch up to her at."<br/>
<br/>
Seth's brow darkens. "You're gonna try doing the thing <i>here?</i> Are you fucking crazy? With all these—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Which is why I think we're gonna need your help getting a place we can do it in. Oh, also, do you want them knowing where you are? Who you are, I mean?"<br/>
<br/>
He blinks. "You didn't tell them?"<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head. "I only told them who I was. Oh, also? You'll never guess this, but Paulina is totally part of the thing too. Yeah, she knows what's going on, even though she's—"<br/>
<br/>
Seth shoves you aside as he sits up. "Start at the top, Will," he says. "The fuck has been going on?"<br/>
<br/>
So you relate the afternoon's revelations and adventures to him: How Paulina knows about the substitutions and is helping without wanting to do any switching herself, and how you've switched Grant with Kaylee Mercier and are planning to switch Joe with Alejandra Roldan-Cortes here at Catherine's.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shakes his head when you're done. "That's a fucking bad idea, man," he says. "This place is like school on a Tuesday morning. <i>Everyone's</i> here, or heading out here, on account of—" He makes a face.<br/>
<br/>
"On account of?" you prompt.<br/>
<br/>
"Those guys who're moving over from Eastman. They're here now, downstairs. I came up here to get away from them. It's a fucking <i>Welcome to Westside</i> party Catherine is throwing here."<br/>
<br/>
"So? Catherine's got hundreds of people in and out on weekends."<br/>
<br/>
His eyes pop. "Are you saying you'd try this stupidity on a regular—?"<br/>
<br/>
There's a rap at the door, and Stephanie Wyatt puts her head in. "Hey," she says, and looks you and Seth up and down. "Seen Catherine around?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's not in here."<br/>
<br/>
Stephanie rolls her eyes and rubs her nose. "Yeah, okay. You guys hiding out up here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sort of. Do you <i>mind,</i> Stephanie?"<br/>
<br/>
She snorts at you, but shoves off and pulls the door shut behind her.<br/>
<br/>
"See what I mean?" Caleb says. "Just before you got here, Catherine was talking about going around and dunning people for ten, twenty bucks each, and calling in pizza orders from all over town. This is gonna turn into, like, the <i>biggest fuck-all party of the century</i> by the time it gets rolling."<br/>
<br/>
You suck in your cheeks as you check your phone. Paulina has just texted to say that Alejandra has arrived. </span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324231111212
author_id: seuzz
title: Action Under Cover
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You dash out to the top of the staircase for a look around, but can make out nothing but the tops of the heads of the people below. <br/>
<br/>
<i>iz joe here yet?</i> you text Paulina. <i>y,</i> she replies.<br/>
<br/>
You chew your lip. You got Alejandra out here on a fake pretext; it would look bad if you changed the story now.<br/>
<br/>
<i>get evryon upstairs Now we do it in bdroom look for me.</i> <br/>
<br/>
Seth hovers at your shoulder. "That girl's here," you tell him before he can ask what's going on. "We'll do it in Catherine's bedroom, fast as we can. You'll have to help keep everyone out."<br/>
<br/>
"You're asking for a clusterfuck," he warns. <br/>
<br/>
But it's too late now: Paulina is now in the foyer below, gesturing at someone in the next room. You push Seth back toward the bedroom. "What the—?" he says as you drape yourself across him.<br/>
<br/>
"It's how we'll keep people out," you say. "Help me make it look good, man. Seth," you whine in a loud voice for the benefit anyone who might be eavesdropping. "My pussy is <i>thrawwwbbing</i> for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," he mutters, and adds a muffled <i>Mmph</i> when you jam your tongue into his mouth and push yourself onto him.<br/>
<br/>
He freezes, and for several long seconds you're the only one doing any work. Then he pulls you close, wraps his tongue around yours, and tries swallowing it.<br/>
<br/>
You'd suck in a sharp breath if only your mouth wasn't full of his. You were just going to pretend, but now a deep shudder runs through you, and your feet and ankles weaken as though starting to melt. It's like when you were back at the motel, doing the dirty—now as then, Cindy's body thrums to life in her boyfriend's embrace. Even when a snippy voice says "Excuse me" directly into your ear you don't break off, and only cling all the more tightly to Seth as one, two, three ... or more ... people brush past you. A door closes, and something thumps loudly against it—still you snatch at Seth's tongue with your own.<br/>
<br/>
How much time passes you're not sure before a voice bellows, "Whoa! Someone got a mattress to rent? Bet they got one in here!"<br/>
<br/>
Seth tears his mouth from yours, but—dizzy and disoriented—you can only cling to him as you try to catch your breath. Out of the corner of your eye, though, you see a hand twisting the handle of the door you're leaning against. You've just enough time to think, <i>Uh-oh</i> before it falls open, and you and Seth tumble backward through the doorway. "Jesus!" someone yells.<br/>
<br/>
The room whirls as you fetch up against the corner of a bed, and you quail as something big and blonde hurls itself past you onto the mattress. "God damn it, Durras!" your boyfriend barks. "Watch what you're doing!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'd rather watch what <i>you're</i> doing," retorts the other. "What you <i>were</i> doing." The speaker's smile glints as he waggles his eyebrows at you. They, like his shaggy hair, are a golden blonde.<br/>
<br/>
Paulina jumps into view. "Hey, this is a private party!" she snaps.<br/>
<br/>
"Can't be more private than what was going on out in the hall," chortles the other. "We should all have such a party!"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you, man!" Seth advances on the bed.<br/>
<br/>
And you? Well, you can only glance wildly about, trying to place yourself and the others. <br/>
<br/>
You're back in Catherine's bedroom, with Seth and Paulina and the guy on the bed ... And with Ethan and Kaylee and Andrew Webb, who are looking shocked and aghast. And ... <br/>
<br/>
And that's all? You frown. <i>Shouldn't there be more people in here?</i><br/>
<br/>
Then suddenly there are. With a lot of hooting and laughing, four strapping guys in Westside lettermen jackets, and two in Eastman colors, tumble into the room. A girl—Dominique Hughes of the girls' basketball team—follows them in, peering over their shoulders on her tiptoes. Heads are bobbing in the hallway behind her, and she's pushed forward as more people try shoving their way inside.<br/>
<br/>
You do a double-take as Paulina catches your eye. Her face is very pale, and her expression haggard, as she gives you a hard, baleful stare. You glance over at Kaylee: she is turning green. Even Andrew Webb is looking ill.<br/>
<br/>
You mutter a harsh cuss word under you breath as you realize the position you are all in.<br/>
<br/>
Only Ethan—the altered Justin Carr—seems to be keeping his nerve. He saunters over to the closet door and props himself against it with folded arms and a tilted chin.<br/>
<br/>
You suck in a deep breath. If only he can keep everyone out of that closet—and if only Joe can keep quiet, for you presume he's on the other side of that door with the unconscious Alejandra ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There follows one of the most harrowing three hours of your life.<br/>
<br/>
No one goes anywhere. A squad of football players and wrestlers, representing both high schools, park themselves in Catherine's bedroom, and even when some of them leave, more cycle in, bringing chips and sodas—and later on slices of greasy, cheesy pizza—with them. Catherine and Michael return to reclaim the bed. Twice you and Caleb try to lure everyone out by suggesting a move downstairs, only to be balked by group inertia. Three times you have to distract Catherine when she makes a move toward her closet. And once you almost throw up when the blonde guy who started the whole trouble—it turns out he's one of the Eastman students who's moving over to Westside, in whose honor this party is being thrown—picks a pair of red-and-white sneakers up from off the floor. "Whose are these?" he asks, and has them snatched away by a green-faced Paulina. "I'll find out whose they are," you say as you grab them from her, and run out of the bedroom with them before you can barf all over the carpet. You stash them under a bathroom sink where Joe can retrieve them—you presume they are Alejandra's—if and when he ever gets out with his new body. <br/>
<br/>
Around about seven you and Caleb are taking a break down in the kitchen when you overhear Catherine saying that she'll "get it from my closet." "Catherine," you call after her in a quavering voice. "I, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
But this time she's not to be distracted. Up the stairs she troops as you stumble along behind, frantically trying to invent some plan to waylay her. That blonde guy—whose name you've never quite caught—has taken up Ethan's station by the closet, and you almost swallow your tongue as Catherine pushes him away with an "Excuse me." <i>Catherine?</i> you try to say as she grasps the door handle and pops on the light, but it comes out through your nose as "Wwwheeeennghh!"<br/>
<br/>
She pushes open the door, and steps inside.<br/>
<br/>
"You okay there, lollipop?" the blonde guy asks as you clutch the corner of the desk. "Hey." He snaps his fingers in your face. "Hey!"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" You tear your gaze from the closet, where Catherine is calmly digging through a rack of blouses and tops.<br/>
<br/>
"You look like you're going to be sick."<br/>
<br/>
"What? Oh. Yeah." You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. "It's a little hot in here, right? Stuffy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hey everyone!" Blondie bellows. "Let's give Cindy some space!" He looses a shrill whistle through his teeth. "I said, <i>everybody out!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Joe, I wish you wouldn't order everyone around my house," Catherine says as she steps from the closet with a white-and-green printed blouse. She puts out the light and pulls the door shut. "But it is kind of crowded," she admits.<br/>
<br/>
You sink against the wall as Joe—<i>his name is Joe too?</i> your brain pointlessly bleats—herds everyone, including Catherine, and Paulina, and Ethan, toward the door. The latter tries to hang back, and Joe has to push him out by the shoulders. Catherine shouts something at you from the hallway, but Joe shuts the door on her, then turns and props himself against it with a bright grin. <br/>
<br/>
It's only you and him now, and the silence between you is heavy.<br/>
<br/>
Except it's not just you and him. You freeze as a slim brown arm snakes out from under the bed. Fortunately, you're the only one in a position to see it. <br/>
<br/>
"Joe," you squeak. "Your name is Joe?" <br/>
<br/>
The arm pauses. You suppress the urge to stride over and stomp on it.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," says Blondie. "Glad to see you caught my name. I caught yours. You're one of the cheerleaders, right? I like cheerleaders."<br/>
<br/>
"I have a boyfriend!" you gasp. You find it very hard to concentrate on Joe and not on the arm, which is still hovering over the carpet.<br/>
<br/>
He laughs. "Yeah, you were giving him a hands-free tonsillectomy earlier. But don't worry, I'm not coming onto you. Just flirting a tiny little bit." You swallow, and his grin sharpens.<br/>
<br/>
"So I was saying I like cheerleaders," he continues. "Me and my brother are starting at Westside Monday. I'd wanna hit the ground running. The dating ground, I mean. So, the cheerleading squad. <i>You're</i> taken. But who isn't?" He leans forward and lifts his eyebrows. "Who should I be flirting with <i>hard?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
You stumble forward to meet him before he can come around the bed to meet you. "You're asking for a recommendation?" you squeak as you kick at the arm, which now <i>finally</i> pulls back under the bed. "Well, you got your pick, 'cos I'm the only one on the squad who's got a boyfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"No! Really?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, Chelsea was dating Gordon—"<br/>
<br/>
"Black?" he says. "Captain of the squad, the guy that went crazy?" His ears visibly prick up.<br/>
<br/>
"Umm ..."<br/>
<br/>
"Interesting. You know, your boyfriend's on the team too, guess we're gonna be teammates, if he's good enough and doesn't get cut at Monday's tryouts."<br/>
<br/>
He flicks a finger at you. "We should take off, trade this scene for a double date. You and him and me and a girl you can pick out for me." His smile is blinding. "I want us all to be <i>terrific</i> friends."</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213242311112122
author_id: seuzz
title: Unexpected Dates
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You can't be sure, but it sure seems like this guy has just asked you out on a date—even though he knows you have a boyfriend. Sure, he called it a "double date" with you and Seth and another cheerleader for him. But the way he's looking at you now ... like he's not just peeling your clothes off with his eyes, put peeling back your skin... and maybe more.<br/>
<br/>
You give him one of Cindy's freezing smiles, the ones that she saves for when she wants to scare someone off for good. "Does it have to be tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
But his own smile only blazes out more warmly. "Sooner is always better."<br/>
<br/>
You shudder. He must be all hands with the girls when he gets them alone. <br/>
<br/>
"Sorry," you reply. "Seth and I have plans for tonight, just involving us." You falter as his grin widens; a shimmering flash of gold runs through his hair. "Maybe we can all do something later, next week or next month," you add, though you feel your throat constricting. "Assuming you actually <i>do</i> make it onto the basketball squad."<br/>
<br/>
He laughs at that—a merry sound, as though you've just cracked a particularly juicy joke. You expect him to block your way as you march up to the door—he seems exactly the kind of arrogant jackass who'd try touching or even grabbing you after being shot down—but he swiftly steps aside and opens the door for you. <br/>
<br/>
"I'll hold you to that," he says. "I want us all to be friends," he repeats. "I'll even flirt with your boyfriend, if that's what it takes."<br/>
<br/>
You try to snarl something back at him, but you can't find any words. Instead, with a burning face—and the conviction that he's ogling your ass—you march off.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"His name is Joe Durras," Seth sighs. He throws his free arm over your shoulders; with his other hand, he steers the truck out of Catherine Muskov's neighborhood. "Him and his brother are moving over to Westside, and why are we talking about him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because he's a jerk and he came on to me upstairs."<br/>
<br/>
"What? Fucker, I'll—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't get all into character with <i>me,</i> dude. If I wanted to give him a blow job I could give him a blow job and you'd have to swallow it. Not that I <i>want</i> to give him a blow job," you hastily add as Caleb twists around to give you a pop-eyed stare. You feel yourself blushing hard. <i>Why the hell did I have to put it </i>that<i> way?</i> you chide yourself. "I'm just reminding you that we're <i>not</i> really these people," you stammer, "and I don't have to fucking act like Cindy with you if I don't want to."<br/>
<br/>
His arm rests heavily on your shoulders. In the dark cab of the truck, prowling down the dark streets—the days are getting short, and it's well past eight—you are very conscious of its weight. "Are you saying I could get it on with some other girl?" Caleb asks. "'Cos if you don't have to act like Cindy with me, then I don't have to act like Seth w—"<br/>
<br/>
"Would you?"<br/>
<br/>
Strangely, the question seems to surprise him. "Would I what?"<br/>
<br/>
"If I told you you could— If I said you could go out and fuck other girls, would you?"<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't answer right away, and when he does speak again there's trepidation in his voice. "You're not gonna go all Cindy-psycho on me, are you?"<br/>
<br/>
You bridle, but you're glad he asked, for you did feel a surge of brittle jealousy rising up within you. "No," you reply, and try wrestling your Cindy Vredenburg-persona into submission. You snicker. "Jesus Fucking Christ, man, please tell me you actually <i>would!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
But he squirms, and pulls his arm off you. "I dunno," he pants. "I mean, it'd make things kind of tough between us, wouldn't it? If word got around that I— That Seth had cheated on Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess it would," you allow.<br/>
<br/>
"You'd have to be mad and we'd have to fight, and you might even have to break up with me."<br/>
<br/>
You hadn't thought of that. "Makes sense."<br/>
<br/>
Seth falls silent. You don't pick up the conversational thread. For a block or more, there's only the throb of the motor, and the sigh of the heater.<br/>
<br/>
Then Caleb lets loose. "Is that what you're <i>trying</i> to do?" he bellows. "God damn it, are you <i>trying</i> to break us up, so that you don't have to—?" He chokes on his own words.<br/>
<br/>
"What? I'm not trying to break us up!"<br/>
<br/>
"Then why are you trying to get me to cheat on— on Cindy? So you'll have an excuse to—?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not trying to get you to do anything, motherfucker!" you holler back. "I'm just telling you— I don't know what I'm telling you!" You have to fight to catch your breath. "Except you can do anything you want!"<br/>
<br/>
"Like cheating on Cindy so you can break up with me," he sneers.<br/>
<br/>
"No! If I cheated on you, you could break up with me, if you wanted to!"<br/>
<br/>
"Did you want to cheat on me? With that guy back at Catherine's?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't! Want! To cheat! On you! With <i>anybody!</i>" you shriek. "I want us to be friends, Caleb," you continue in a very ragged voice. "Like we've always been. Only now as ... as <i>these</i> guys." The nipples prickle and harden. "You like us being these guys, instead of who we were, right?" you continue in a calmer voice. "Hot-shot basketball player, and the girl who's gonna be captain of the cheerleading squad by the end of next week?" You scoot up next to him.<br/>
<br/>
He flinches, but maybe it's only surprise at the turn of your mood, for after a moment he drapes his arm back over your shoulders. "That gonna happen?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Chelsea can't hang on, not after—" You can't help smiling to yourself. "Not after what we did to Gordon. And," you continue, "that's something not even Steve can say, right? That he's dating the head cheerleader?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb grunts. "He gets enough action."<br/>
<br/>
"Speaking of getting action—" You lightly pinch his thigh. "This isn't the way to the river."<br/>
<br/>
He jumps. "I thought you didn't want to— Wouldn't want to—"<br/>
<br/>
"I talked myself into it. That fight we just had." You slip your arm around his waist. "Is it just me, or is Cindy and Seth's makeup sex even hotter than their regular sex?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So you do wind up parked by the dark and swirling river—though only after Caleb has stopped off to pick up some rubbers—where you straddle his lap and he tries from below to thrust you up and through the roof of his truck cab. After that, as he recovers, you slurp warm beers together and giggle with a shared half-a-joint. Then you sprawl back on the bench and let him eat you out. Even with all that, you're home by eleven-thirty. You sleep deeply, and smile secretly to yourself through church services the next morning, and it's not because of the text from Paulina reporting that the new Alejandra Roldan-Cortes is doing very well.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb is eager to get back together with you that afternoon, but you've a text from Kendra Saunders, one of the other cheerleaders. You'd ignore her—Kendra is one of Chelsea's very slimy, snake-like sycophants—but Eva and Jessica Garner text to say that she is desperate to meet with you. So you're intrigued, though still wary, as you pull up in front of Cafe Oro for a three o'clock meeting. "Desperate" is not an adjective that often applies to Kendra.<br/>
<br/>
But she doesn't look very desperate as she waits for you at a corner table with folded arms and a tilted chin. Kendra is African-American, but of Kenyan ancestry (as she eagerly explains to anyone who will listen) which you suppose explains her high cheekbones and light, coppery tan. <i>Hair coloring</i> of course explains the coppery shade of her tresses, which explode out and drape down to her shoulders in tight ringlets. She is very carefully made up, and you can't help feeling a stab of anger and regret at not getting dressed and made up for this meeting. You already feel wrong-footed.<br/>
<br/>
She gets right business. "So, I hear there's going to be a vote on Monday," she says as you drop into the chair opposite her.<br/>
<br/>
<i>A vote? What is she talking about?</i> "For squad captain," she snipes when you give her a blank stare back.<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach drops. "What are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea's going to call a vote tomorrow, first period. A vote of confidence in herself as squad captain. You know the bylaws, Cindy." Kendra's lip curls. "Anyone can call for a vote of confidence at any time. So Chelsea's going to call one tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw slackens. "Why would she do that?" <i>And why are you telling me this?</i> you silently add.<br/>
<br/>
She gives you a look. "It isn't like she's going to lose. I know you're going to vote against her. But you need seven votes to kick her out as captain. How many do you got?"<br/>
<br/>
Kendra knows the answer as well as you do: You've got your own vote, and the votes of Lin Pol and Yumi Saito. <i>Maybe</i> the votes of Eva and Jessica Garner. To her own vote, Chelsea can add those of Kendra, Maria Vasquez, and Gloria Rea. That only leaves Michelle Estrich's vote up for grabs, and even with her you would be one short of the seven needed to unseat Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
"I still don't understand why she would call a vote," you reply. "It would look horrible if half the squad voted to get rid of her."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes it would," Kendra says. Her smile turns smug. "So when you and your little claque vote against her, and you <i>still</i> don't have enough votes to dump her ass, she's going to tell Coach Tesla that you and Yumi and Lin need to be cut from the squad. For the sake of morale and teamwork."<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach lurches. "Why are you telling me this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I want to make deal. You'll want to make it with me, Cindy." Her smile puts you in mind of a cobra. "I can give you my vote and Michelle's. That'll get you to seven, won't it?"<br/>
<br/>
 Your blood chills. "And you want?"<br/>
<br/>
Her smile widens. "To be squad captain after Chelsea quits."</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132424
author_id: seuzz
title: Hijacking Javits
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You seen enough?" Caleb asks as the three sophomore boys—Bhodi Weaver, Justin Orr, and their new best friend, Andrew Webb—saunter off.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Let's go get a shake or something."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So tell me more about what's going on at school," you tell Caleb after you've settled in at a nearby McDonalds. "About the basketball team and all that."<br/>
<br/>
"I knew you weren't paying attention back there."<br/>
<br/>
"Was so. I'm trying out for the basketball squad, apparently." You slide your straw in and out of your chocolate shake. "Tell me about it."<br/>
<br/>
"You care?"<br/>
<br/>
You rub your eye and shrug. "I guess I'm not surprised Gordon's trying to get back on the squad. I guess I <i>am</i> surprised they're having tryouts again."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, they've got a slot to fill, since they kicked the guy they think is Gordon off."<br/>
<br/>
"So why don't they just promote someone from the jay-vee squad?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb throws his hands up. "Beats the fuck outta me. It's not like I'm making the decision. Maybe it has to do with those Eastman guys that're moving over."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, what about them?"<br/>
<br/>
Now it's Caleb's turn to rub his eye. "It's two guys who go to Eastman," he sighs. "They were on the squad there, but they're moving out to Westside and want to play for us now." He cocks his head. "Maybe that's how come they're having tryouts again. Because there's two guys who want to join, but there's only Gordon's slot to fill."<br/>
<br/>
"So why are they letting other people try out?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno, Will. I do know that they're putting the whole squad through the wringer. <i>Everyone</i> has to compete in the tryouts, even the guys who are on the squad now. It's like they're starting over from scratch."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean they might cut some of the current lineup?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe. I heard Carson say that <i>everyone</i> is on the line. Except, of course, for Patterson," he adds, and sucks down some of his shake.<br/>
<br/>
"Or Javits," you mumble as you suck down some more of your own.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Saturday afternoon.</i> You've changed motels so as to avoid people you know. Meanwhile, Andy Jensen and Justin Orr have been by to offer their gratitudes and respects (and to show off their new bodies, you suspect). Webb you now clearly remember from the time you ran into him while impersonating Bhodi: a pink-skinned bully with a tendency to smirk down his nose. Clayborne, meanwhile, turns out to be a strapping hulk-in-training. His biceps already fill out the sleeves of his t-shirt, and his athletic shorts disclose thick calves and bulging thighs. He's better-looking than Webb, too, even if he's got a few zits popping out of the top of his cheek. (Justin somehow can't escape having zits!) His features are regular, and his brown, wiry hair twists into stiff waves over the top of his ears and neck. His gruff baritone also contrasts favorably with Webb's squeaky tenor; and where Webb's snub nose makes him look childish and insolent, Clayborne's upturned snub and large, serious eyes gives his face a vulnerability that contrasts well with his hardened limbs.<br/>
<br/>
And tonight he's planning to use his muscles, his hair, his snub nose, his decent grades, and his reputation as a shy and thoughtful romancer to snag Kaylee Mercier's body for Grant, and/or Leslie Osbourne's body for Mrs. Matthias. As he swaggers out the door with Webb trailing behind, you have to admit that he probably won't have a hard time of it.<br/>
<br/>
You're glad they're gone, though. You have your own appointment to keep, and he'll be meeting you here.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Seth Javits.</i> Caleb gave you a boggle-eyed stare when you told him what you wanted to do. You had decided after tasking him with calling around to find out more about this "fight" that your replacement got into with him.<br/>
<br/>
It's not clear why blows got exchanged, though you can guess it had something to do with Javits being an asshole and with the altered Gordon being ... well, with still being <i>Gordon Black, alpha asshole</i> deep down inside. Apparently it happened in the gym, in front of Steve Patterson, when "Will" went in to talk about trying out for the squad. Anyway, someone said something, and "Will" and Seth wound up punching each other. It might have worked out to your doppelganger's advantage, though: more than one person, Caleb reports, says that Patterson is giving "Will" a chance on the team only because he slugged it out with the bigger, meaner Seth.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe you're pissed at Javits for what he did to your replacement; maybe that's how come you want to steal his body, his mind, his girlfriend, his life, and his future. Or  maybe you'd want them for yourself anyway. Whatever the reason, you do know that being <i>Seth Javits</i> will be a huge improvement on being a Will Prescott who has to skulk out of sight around cheap motel rooms.<br/>
<br/>
And for Seth himself you have fashioned a good hiding place: the mask of Dane Matthias, but with a brain-band attached that copies your own mind and memories, and all covered over with golem paint. Once you slap it on Seth, it will transform him into an obedient golem who will take Dane's place. It will have to pretend to be Matthias without having his memories, but how hard will that be? You were mostly able to do it when <i>you</i> had to wear the mask—except for getting fuckways with Chen—and the golem will be exactly as smart as you.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Hrm. Well, better it than me,</i> you reflect.<br/>
<br/>
But first, of course, you have to knock out and copy Seth, the way Bhodi and them managed to knock out and copy Webb and Clayborne. Man, it would be so embarrassing if you screwed up where they didn't!<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Two forty-seven.</i> "He's not coming," you tell Caleb as the minutes tick well past the two-thirty meeting time. Caleb had set it up by text, telling Javits that you wanted to talk to him to "clear the air" between you before the tryouts.<br/>
<br/>
"He's coming," Caleb says from the window, where he's watching the motel parking lot through a crack in the curtains. "He'll want another shot at breaking your face."<br/>
<br/>
That's exactly what you're scared of. So there's two reasons you feel like throwing up. One, Javits might not show up. Two, he might.<br/>
<br/>
You're about ready to start peeling the wallpaper from anxiety when, a few minutes after three, Caleb thrusts the curtain back into place. "He's here," he hisses. "Just pulled up across the way."<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't you tell him which room—?" you start to ask, but Caleb grabs you and shoves you toward the door. Your heart goes into your throat as you're thrust onto the sidewalk outside.<br/>
<br/>
Seth Javits drives a bigger and manlier truck than Will Prescott ever did, and though he's got an inch or two more in his legs than you he has to hop to the ground as he dismounts. He does a double-take and grimaces hard when he sees you. You catch your breath: Most of the right side of his face is stained by a black-and-purple bruise centered on his cheekbone, and his right eye is partially swollen shut. As he strides up, you also see that he's got an obvious cut on the left side of his mouth.<br/>
<br/>
You hope his face doesn't hurt too much, for it will be yours soon. Then, as Seth bunches up his fists, you hope that <i>your</i> face isn't going to start hurting too much.<br/>
<br/>
"Prescott," Seth hisses. "The fuck do you want?"<br/>
<br/>
"I just wanna talk," you stammer, and hold up your hands. You back into the room, bumping into the door which bumps into Caleb, who is hiding behind it. "That's all."<br/>
<br/>
"About what? About how—?" Seth freezes, and his good eye narrows. For a moment he studies you closely, and you lick your lips.<br/>
<br/>
Then he snorts. "And what's this gay shit about getting me out to a motel?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's where I'm staying. Uh, I'm kind of in trouble at home."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want your fucking sob story, motherfucker. I wanna know what the fuck you want!"<br/>
<br/>
You back deeper into the room, and carefully keep your eyes off of Caleb. "Can we just come in and have a civilized conversation?" you squeak.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, you want a civilized conversation now," Javits retorts, but he does stride into the room after you. "You'll keep your fucking hands to yourself, though," he adds as he slams the door behind him. "'Cos if you don't, I'll bash your face into the bathroom sink so it'll—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>It'll what?</i> You'll have to find out when you're him, for Caleb steps up and smoothly reaches around to slap his palm against Javits's forehead. You leap forward to help him catch the ballplayer as he wobbles, folds up, and topples to the floor.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus," Caleb says after he's scrambled back onto his knees. "Did you do that?" He points to Seth's face. "With these?" He grabs you by a bicep.<br/>
<br/>
You throw him off. "Shut up, man, or I'll give you a taste of the same."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb hoots. "You couldn't raise a bruise on me if I gave you ten minutes with my hands tied behind my back!"<br/>
<br/>
"Bet I could after I'm him." You nudge Seth with your toe, and Caleb pales. "That's right, you weren't thinking about what comes after this, were you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm thinking it now," Caleb mutters. "What <i>are</i> you going to do? Like, with me, when you see me at school?"<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. "Are you going to be yourself still? All the cool kids are turning themselves into other people."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, what are you gonna do about Tilley?"<br/>
<br/>
Now you wince. Seth Javits is your friend Keith's personal monster. Not a week goes by that he doesn't hurt or at least humiliate him. "I'll play it by ear," you mutter.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's reply is interrupted by the chirp of a phone, which Caleb finds in Seth's pocket. He lets out a low whistle after checking it. "Here's someone else you need to think about." He turns the phone to you.<br/>
<br/>
You blink. It's a text from Jeremy Richards, a former friend of yours and Caleb's—until he became best friends with Seth and joined the basketball team.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324241
author_id: seuzz
title: The Last of Seth Javits
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Someone else for you to torture," Caleb snickers as he hands you Seth's phone. Jeremy's text is short and direct: <i>meet n talk?</i><br/>
<br/>
"I thought Jeremy and Seth were friends," you say.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's lip curls. "Sure they are. Besties. That's how come you should go take a poke at him."<br/>
<br/>
You wince, but you get what Caleb is saying. Jeremy was one of <i>your</i> friends once, until he had a growth spurt right after middle school and decided he'd rather be a jock. He's never bullied you or your friends—or anyone else that you know of; he's still too wimpy for that—but he is cold and sneery toward you. <i>Like he's fucking embarrassed he ever hung out with us,</i> Caleb once said, then added: <i>I know I'm fucking embarrassed I ever hung out with him.</i><br/>
<br/>
You feel Caleb's eyes on you as you stare at Jeremy's text, but he doesn't say anything, and after he minute he turns around and starts busying himself with straightening up the motel room. You slink off to the other side of the room, to crouch by the wall and study the phone and the unconscious Seth Javits with a sidelong glance.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Seth and his friends. Seth and my friends. What am I going to do about them all?</i> you wonder, <i>after I'm Seth?</i> Naturally, that leads to deeper and more unsettling thoughts: <i>How much of him am I going to be after I </i>am<i> him? How much of him should I try to be?</i> And: <i>How much of him can I be while still being myself?</i> <br/>
<br/>
For you still feel it, like a faded bruise: the oppressive sense of Dwayne Macaulay's personality closing itself around your own.<br/>
<br/>
When you pick the brain-band up from off Seth's forehead, it seems to burn your fingertips.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Seth's body is the next thing to be copied, and while the mask is inside him you retreat to the bathroom to disrobe and crawl into the hard, chilly bathtub with a coarse towel draped over your midriff. You're trembling, and not just from the cold, as you lift the brain band to your forehead ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
... and the cold shocks you awake again. You feel like you're suffering from a full-body ice-cream headache. A pile of clothes is weighing on your lap, with a mask the color of blue ice on top.<br/>
<br/>
At least you know who you are and where you and how you got here, but that knowledge leaves you feeling very grumpy. It's like there's someone inside your skull with you, and he's bellowing at you. You'd like to make him shut up, and you rub your face impatiently. But you hold back from putting on the mask, for you're half afraid that if you put the mask he'll come bursting out and take full charge. But you soon thrust these fears aside, for the sooner you get into Javits's body, the sooner you'll be able to slip on his clothes and get warm again. <br/>
<br/>
You half expect to see a purple bruise staining the cheek of the mask, but it is smooth and uniform. With a soft, sour groan you press it to your face. Your fingers feel like icicles.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Jesus H. Christ! You're <i>still</i> not dressed?" Caleb gapes when you come stalking out of the bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
"It's freezing in there," you retort as you drop your things onto the bed. "Where's Seth?"<br/>
<br/>
"Standing in front of me, flaunting his junk." Caleb turns his head and glares at the wall. "If you're cold, put something the fuck on."<br/>
<br/>
"I meant the original." The bed is empty.<br/>
<br/>
"You mean 'Dane'?" Caleb crooks his fingers around the name. "He's waiting outside. I think I might join him."<br/>
<br/>
"Fine with me. You can take him home while I get checked out here." You snatch up Seth's red briefs. <i>Gross,</i> you think as you slip your feet and legs through them, but they feel very natural after you've snapped them into place. "Then we can meet up someplace."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's eyebrows shoot up. "I thought your first order of business would be checking in with Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
You freeze with your jeans clutched in one hand.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Cindy.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">~ ~ ~</div><br/>
"What do you mean, 'yet'?" Your girlfriend's lips and eyes twist into a piercing scowl. "You mean you <i>were</i> going to go meet her?" she shrieks. "You were actually <i>planning</i> to— Don't tell me to be quiet, Seth!" she spits as you try hushing her with your hands.<br/>
<br/>
"I just meant that I was going to see her at school," you protest. "I can't help it if she comes around—"<br/>
<br/>
"Let me out, Seth!" Cindy pounds you with her tiny fist. Out of the corner of your eye you see the other patrons of the coffee bar turning in your direction. "Let me—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Calm the fuh— down, Cindy," you growl. "People are looking."<br/>
<br/>
"Good! Let me out of here!" She kicks at you. "Let me out before I tell the whole freaking shop just what a mother— fucking—!" She gasps as you brace yourself across the booth to stop her from moving. "You son of a bitch, I will scream and you'll have the cops on your ass if you don't—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Then we'll take it outside." You jump to your feet. Cindy scrambles out and charges from the dining room. You run after her, sparing the barista only a hard scowl as he steps around the register with a frown. But he doesn't follow you into the parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy. Cindy!" You snatch at her, but she slaps you away. "God damn it! Will you calm down long enough to—?"<br/>
<br/>
"I've put up with some real <i>shit</i> from you, Seth!" She wheels around and for an instant you think she's going to deck you in your undamaged eye. "But skulking around with Chelsea is the lowest—! slimiest—! <i>shittiest thing you've ever—!"</i> <br/>
<br/>
Her complexion cracks, and it's like her face wants to crack open too. Her eyes roll up into a pair of baleful slits, and her lips peel back to show all four canines. Her hair—those glorious sheets of smooth, bouncy, platinum bangs—flies about her ears like banshee wings as she shakes her head at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy! Baby! I never— I never <i>would—!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck off, Seth! Fuck off and take fucking Chelsea with you!" Cindy stomps off to her car. You grip the tailgate of your truck and watch as she wrenches open the car door, falls into the cabin, turns the motor over and lurches backward out of the parking space. The way she bounces the car into the street ought to be comical, but you're actually worried she might get into an accident.<br/>
<br/>
Also, you yourself are so pissed that you want to put your fist and foot through your fender.<br/>
<br/>
Because it's not like it's your fault. You didn't ask Chelsea Cooper—Cindy's archrival on the cheerleader squad—to text you, asking if you and her could meet up sometime this weekend. You sure as fuck didn't ask Cindy to go scrolling through your messages while you were in the coffee shop bathroom. Snooping was her idea—<br/>
And yeah, that's exactly what she was doing, she was <i>fucking snooping through your shit</i>, so it was her fault that she found that text, <i>which you were totally going to ignore.</i><br/>
<br/>
Okay, <i>probably</i> totally going to ignore.<br/>
<br/>
Still, she got pissed off when she found it there. And she got even more pissed off when you said <i>I haven't seen Cheslea yet</i> instead of <i>I wasn't going to go see her,</i> which is what you should have said.<br/>
<br/>
You were still in the parking lot, staring down at Chelsea's text and wondering if maybe you should meet up with her—if Cindy's going to be pissed at you, she might as well have a good reason—when a text came in from Johansson, asking you to come out to the Lazee-Nites Motel because Prescott wanted to "clear the air" with you ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">~ ~ ~</div><br/>
"We had a fight," you tell Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"No!" His eyes light up. "Seth and Cindy? What about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you, that's what about." You slump. First Cindy, then Prescott ... and now you <i>are</i> Prescott and you get to be Seth after he had a fight with his girlfriend and got ambushed by a freaking little shit like—<br/>
<br/>
"So I guess you got the afternoon free," Caleb honks.<br/>
<br/>
But do you? There's that text from Jeremy, you remember.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Christ.</i> You can guess what that's about, too.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">~ ~ ~</div><br/>
"Oh, God damn it," Jeremy moans. He falls against the gym wall and slides down it to slump on the grass. "I am so fucked." He presses his bunched-up fists into his eyes. "So fucked," he whispers.<br/>
<br/>
You kick him in the hip. "You're not fucked, man. You're only fucked if you <i>think</i> you're fucked."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I <i>am</i> fucked." He pulls his knees up to his face.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Christ, man. I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't pull yourself out of it." And you would have, too, if he hadn't raised his head to show eyes bruised with unshed tears.<br/>
<br/>
"You think I'm not fucked?" he groans. "What do you <i>think's</i> gonna happen? They were already talking about cutting me from the squad, even before—" His Adam's apple bobbles. "I'm <i>fucked.</i> No way I'm making it through these tryouts. I don't know how I made it through them at the start of the year." He hangs his head. "Patterson'll probably call me Sunday night, tell me not to even bother showing up on Monday."<br/>
<br/>
That was last Wednesday morning, right after Coach Stokes announced there would be another round of trials to give the team a new roster.<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy clutches his head. "I am so fucked."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">~ ~ ~</div><br/>
"So we gonna hang out?" Caleb asks. "Talk about how we bend the new Seth Javits to our advantage?"</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213242413
author_id: seuzz
title: Of Friendships and Fouls
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You chew on the inside of your cheek. Caleb's suggestion is pretty damn tempting. You're now steering one of the alpha assholes at Westside High, and there's got to be lots of juice you can squeeze from that fact—juice you could share with Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
But maybe you should take it slow ... Look around ... Get a feel for what's possible, what you could do without pulling Seth too far out of character.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" Caleb's eyes light up when you tell him you're going to meet up with Jeremy instead. "Gonna figure out some way of fucking him up at the tryouts on Monday?"<br/>
<br/>
You flinch as though slapped. "The fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. It's what's called 'condign punishment' in the literature, Will. Richards has been living by the jock code of assholery ever since we were freshmen." He jerks his shoulders. "You live by that code, you die by it. Am I right?"<br/>
<br/>
You feel your stare harden as you study Caleb. It's like you're seeing him for the first time, which in a sense is what you're doing. You see him now as an arrogant, nervy little smartmouth who deserves squashing because ... well, because that's what arrogant, nervy little smartmouths deserve. Also, he's funny looking in a way that offends you—with that big nose and those sneering lips and that scruffy rug of hair that's just begging to be ripped off his skull like a strip of dirty old carpet—<br/>
<br/>
He returns your glare with an even one of his own, and you have to concede that if he's arrogant it's because he's smart, and what you sneer at as "nervy" in him would probably be "gutsy" if you were talking about other people. Fuck, look at how brilliantly he's used these masks to mess up the lives of Gordon and Chelsea and Chen and Prescott and—<br/>
<br/>
You slap down Javits's instincts—fuck, they sure did roar up inside you out of nowhere, didn't they?—and snap yourself back to the present. "I just wanna go see him for now," you gruffly announce. "See what he looks like when I look at him with—" You point to your own eyes. "As Seth, not as me."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you got an idea already what he looks like to Seth? You put the brain band on, didn't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, I put the fucking—!" You catch yourself, or Seth, or whoever it was that was snapping at Caleb. "I wanna know first hand, not—" You knock yourself in the temple with the heel of your hand. "Not just remembering."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb raises a skeptical eyebrow, but you dismiss him. "Take the Danester home. I'll catch up to you later."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb studies you for a long minute as you pull on socks and jeans and shoes, before he turns with an elaborate shrug and trudges to the door.<br/>
<br/>
You pause after he's gone with your shirt crumpled up in your hands. Then you toss it aside and pick up Seth's phone—which is your phone now. <i>where?</i> you ask Jeremy. <i>when?</i> While waiting for his reply, you swagger into the bathroom, put on the light, and turn to the mirror. Seth Javits, his brow dark with thought, stares back out at you from its depths.<br/>
<br/>
His face and nose are very long and lean. <i>Horsey</i> wouldn't be a bad descriptor, and you even have long, horsey-like teeth to go with the mouth. Your eyes are slightly protuberant, though, so that when you goggle them and pucker your mouth you look less like a horse and more like a narrow-bodied fish. You goggle them now. <i>Fuck you, Javits,</i> you think. <i>You funny-faced son of a bitch.</i><br/>
<br/>
But you're a lot more impressive below the neck. Your trapezius muscles are hard and bulging; your pecs are like thick plates of meat; your eight-pack was voted "Best Abdominals in the Class" last year. You raise an arm and slowly flex and clasp a bicep. <br/>
<br/>
You've the body of a trained athlete and of a fighter, so you shouldn't be especially bothered by the swollen eye and blackened cheekbone. What's galling, though, is that you should have got them from a little pissant like Prescott. Well, he surprised you, that's all. He came hopping into the gym on Wednesday after school to ask Patterson about showing up for the tryouts, and naturally you laughed when he asked. Next thing you knew, you were getting punched one, two, four, six times hard, all in the same spot, just below your eye. You manage to land two blows of your own before Patterson separated you, but it looks like the little fucker hurt you a lot more than he actually did. (No, your face doesn't hurt, but it is still a little tender to touch.) You've been telling people it was Patterson who did you most of the hurt as he tried breaking up the fight—but you can't shake the feeling that people are snickering at you behind your back.<br/>
<br/>
You're pulled from these faux-autobiographical musings by another chirp from the phone. Jeremy wants to meet in front of Schuyler Middle School. You reply that you'll see him in twenty minutes. On a whim you snap a selfie of your new self, pull on the vintage football jersey (rescued from a second-hand clothing shop) and swagger out the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">~ ~ ~</div><br/>
"I'm no good at basketball!" Jeremy whines as you drag him by the arm into the Westside gym. Your nostrils flare. It's a new gym to you—today is your first day, as a freshman, at Westside High—but the air is thick with the fun, familiar stench of oiled wood, old sweat, dirty shoes, and testosterone.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm no good either!" you retort. "This is how we get good!" <br/>
<br/>
"But I've never been on a team before," Jeremy grumbles. "You have, and don't bullshit me about you not being good. An' I suck at PE."<br/>
<br/>
"And this is how you <i>un</i>suck." Across the floor, Coach Brooks does a double-take at you. You flash him a nervous grin back. "No one starts off good, man. I didn't. That's what being on a team is for. Getting good."<br/>
<br/>
"But you've had practice!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's what I'm saying! Jesus, man, do the math! And you'll do fine, you've got ladders instead of legs." Though you're a month older than Richards, he's got most of a head on you in height. "All you need is practice and confidence. Hey!" you greet Coach Brooks, whose sun-baked pate is as round and smooth as an egg; all his hair seems to have migrated to his bushy eyebrows and into his ears. "My friend and I wanna try out for the basketball team."<br/>
<br/>
The coach smiles at you, but he gives Jeremy—who is hanging back behind you—a skeptical look. "I don't think he likes me," Jeremy grumbles after you've put your name on a clipboard and are returning to the library.<br/>
<br/>
"That's 'cos you look like you don't want to be there. I told you, you just need confidence, man. This'll get the loser stink off you."<br/>
<br/>
"What loser stink?" Jeremy stops dead in the middle of the hall.<br/>
<br/>
"The loser stink that's got your head all turned around wrong." You punch him in the arm. "Hang out with a better class of people, get your head on right. You'll get that if you're on a good team."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">~ ~ ~</div><br/>
That's one of the memories that you play over in your mind on the drive out to meet Richards. <br/>
<br/>
But you've got several others, too. <br/>
<br/>
Jeremy, in front of the movie theater, abruptly telling you he's changed his mind about seeing the show with you when Caleb points at a couple of football players swaggering over in your direction.<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy, at lunch, turning away from you and Caleb and Keith with a cold, supercilious glare, and shambling over like a Frankenstein monster to squat with Javits and some other guys from the basketball team. <br/>
<br/>
Martin Gardinhire telling you that he's heard Jeremy snarking on you and Caleb behind your backs.<br/>
<br/>
"'Sup, man?" you ask Jeremy as you climb out of your truck in front of Schuyler Middle School. He's in shorts and a tank top, holding a basketball. You point at it. "We supposed to do something with that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought we could," he says. His face is very pale under his dark, shaggy hair, and his whiskers bristle like a Koosh ball that's been glued onto his chin. <br/>
<br/>
"You didn't say anything about that in your text, man. I ain't dressed out for it."<br/>
<br/>
"Well—" He licks his lips, and takes a deep breath. "It was mostly for me."<br/>
<br/>
You grin at him. "Lookin' for a workout?" You gesture him for him to give you the ball, which he does. You drill it on the sidewalk a couple of times, to get the feel of it. It does feel natural, but your pulse flutters as you wonder if you've got Seth's court skills in addition to his memories. You turn toward the school blacktop, which is on the other side of a chain link fence, and loft the ball at the basket. It would be like making a three-point shot from under the opposing basket, and you don't expect to make it. And you don't, but it messes up the net as it falls, so it's a more than respectable shot.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on." You slap him in the stomach and loft yourself at the fence, clambering over its rattling links and dropping to the other side. Jeremy, though, uses the gate. "Wuss," you holler at him as he lopes over to retrieve the ball.<br/>
<br/>
It wouldn't take much to destroy his confidence. But even as you imagine betraying and breaking him, you feel Seth Javits's own personality digging in its heels. <i>This is my friend,</i> he objects. And Jeremy was once your friend, too.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132424132
author_id: seuzz
title: The Hunger Game
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You gotta want it," you mutter at Richards as you block him with outstretched arms. He glares back and drills the ball off the school blacktop. "You gotta want it, asshole. You gotta want it, you motherfucking piece of—"<br/>
<br/>
He tries faking left but darts right even before you can jump at the feint, and you sweep the ball away as he tries to pass you. Like a fucking doofus he blinks and bobbles his head as you take it down to the half court and turn around. He lopes after you, but you dart around, race back down to the basket, and loft the ball up and over the rim. "Don't just fucking stand there, pick it up," you holler as he jogs after. He flushes and hangs his head as he gallops after the runaway ball. <br/>
<br/>
It's only ten minutes into the one-on-one session Jeremy begged you play, and already you're beating him seventeen to eight. You haven't the heart to point out that though he's in shorts, you're handicapped by the tight jeans you wore for your afternoon date with Cindy. You can sense all the energy draining from him, and after another quarter-hour of humiliation he drags himself over the chain-link fence that separates the court from the rest of the playground and falls onto his ass. You bounce the ball half a dozen times, looking for something to say, then stride over to join him. He squints up into your face, then looks away.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to be the best guy on the court come Monday, you know," you remind him. "You just have to be in the top dozen."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not even in the top fifteen," he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"There's only thirteen on the squad."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm counting Robey and Stanton, too," he says, naming two of the jay-vee players. His shoulders sag. "And Bruno and Falk and Lovejoy and—"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you, man!" You make to hurl the ball at a spot next to his face, and he flinches hard. "Fuck you if you're just gonna curl up and die! Fuck you, why'd you call me out here to fucking waste my time?" You nail the blacktop with the ball. "Fuck you and be done with you, man!"<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy covers his face with one hand and looks away. He's about to start crying, you can tell, and pity and contempt fight for possession of your breast.<br/>
<br/>
"You sad, sorry son of a bitch. The fuck do you think you're doing out here? What, you trying to get as good as Lebron in one afternoon? You think you're gonna get, like, a full season of training into one scrimmage?"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you wanted me to try." His voice is thick with resentment.<br/>
<br/>
"I do, but to try doing what?" you yell back. "The fucking impossible? Anyway, <i>trying</i> isn't enough. Any fuck face can <i>try!</i> Ungh! Look at me!" You knock your knees together and hobble about in a circle like a retard. "I'm trying to make a basket! <i>Fuck!</i> You do it or you don't!"<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy's head sinks further between his shoulders. "Then I guess I don't," he whimpers.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck!</i><br/>
<br/>
You weren't trying to harass him, to humiliate him, to break him. But once you got your hands on the ball, you had to put Seth's skills to work for you. Many of those skills are in the head and not the hands, so you fell into the taunting and bullying without even noticing. <br/>
<br/>
But now that the wreckage of Jeremy Richards has fetched up in the corner of the middle school basketball court, you could punch yourself out for letting yourself go so far.<br/>
<br/>
You squat next to him. "Look, man. Trying isn't enough. Patterson wants you to <i>do</i> it. Can or can't, that's what matters to the cocksucker. But that doesn't mean you gotta be perfect, doesn't mean you gotta score every layup. Sometimes you're up against better people. Fuck, it's all I can do to keep in sight of Patterson's ass when it's him and me. And Shuler and Sax and Lloyd? Those assholes? I can put them away as easy as I put you away just now."<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy shoots you a brief, dark glare.<br/>
<br/>
"But you know how come Patterson likes 'em? How he and Gordon never talked smack about them? 'Cos they're <i>mean.</i>" You raise your eyebrows to emphasize the point. "'Cos they come at you with all they got. 'Cos if you don't put everything you got into stopping 'em, they'll leave their footprints on your face. You know that, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"So they can't take Patterson. They can barely take me. But that's only 'cos we gotta be better than them, 'cos when it comes to meanness, they're even worse than us."<br/>
<br/>
"Jonas," Jeremy mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, him too." You tense all over. It took two years of alpha-dog battling before Seth got his feet planted firmly on Jonas Martin's face. "And Luke Bennett, I'd love to get that motherfucker someplace dark and quiet where I could—" You break off. <i>Where I could give him a new face</i> is what you were going to say, but you unnerved yourself with its secondary meaning.<br/>
<br/>
"Ain't nothing wrong with you, man," you continue, "except you're only eighty percent as good as you could be, and less than half as mean as you should be. You let the other guys walk all over you. Keeps you outta trouble, I know," you add with a shrug. Then you jab Jeremy in the shoulder with a long, stiff finger. "But <i>that's</i> how come Patterson and Black were always thinking about cutting your ass. Not 'cos you were bottom of the heap, but because you acted like you didn't even want <i>that</i> much."<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy's head sinks lower, but when he looks up at you most of the self-pity has drained from his eyes. "So you're saying I just need to be mean? Meaner?"<br/>
<br/>
"You gotta <i>want</i> it!" Spit flies from your mouth, so ferocious are your words. "You know who <i>doesn't</i> want it, who's as big a pussy as you? Frazier. Frazier and Tummler and Green. Sure, they got the skills. Fuck, sometimes I wanna break Frazier's legs, I'm so jealous of how good he is on them. Son of a bitch is a fucking ballerina."<br/>
<br/>
"He's good," Jeremy admits. "He knows it, too."<br/>
<br/>
"And him and Tummler and Green think that'll keep 'em on the squad after Monday. They think they're all set with their hot shit. Same as those Eastman fucks." You spit to the side. Frank and Joe Durras are their names. Naturally, you and Patterson scouted them out, along with the rest of the Eastman squad. They're good, like most of your crosstown rivals, but not so good that you're intimidated by them. "They're gonna come over on Monday and show off their stuff and figure it'll be enough to make us want them. And maybe we will, but don't fucking bet on it. 'Cos Patterson wants 'em good, but mostly he wants 'em <i>mean.</i> Hungry, 'cos that's how you keep getting better than good. Fuck, I told you what he told me our sophomore year?" You grin. "About how the basket is a girl's cunny, and the ball is your cock, and the whole point is to jam the one <i>hard</i> into the other one?"<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy winces.<br/>
<br/>
"That's what he wants. When he goes to the coach and tells him who he wants on the squad, that's what he'll be looking for. Bet those Eastman fucks aren't gonna give it to him. Bet Frazier and Green and Tummler aren't either." You stab him in the shoulder again. "You could. He's had lots of doubts about you—" <i>And so have I, though I've been too much of a friend to ever say them out loud,</i> you add silently to yourself. "But you show him on Monday that when the pressure's on, you can be just as mean and as hungry and as <i>hot to score</i> as he is when he's got a girl up there alone in the fuck room—" Again, you stab him in the shoulder. "<i>That's</i> how you make the cut on Monday."<br/>
<br/>
You stand up. "So do you want it that bad, man? You want it so bad you'll fuck everyone over to get it? 'Cos if you don't, you're the one who's gonna be fucked come Monday."<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy says nothing for a moment, then unfolds himself and stands. "I can try."<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Don't! Try!</i>" Jeremy flinches from your shout. "You will make me your bitch on this fucking blacktop, or fuck you!" You thrust the ball at him. He winces as he takes it. "But," you add a little more kindly, "that doesn't mean you gotta outscore me. Just make me <i>worry</i> that you will."<br/>
<br/>
He nods, bounces the ball a couple of times, then leads you out to the middle of the blacktop.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Well, you are worried when you part. Not because he harried and chased you and almost pulled an upset, but because even after that talk he was still too limp and uncertain. <br/>
<br/>
But he's always been like that, and probably always will. Seth talked to his father about it once, how Jeremy always seemed to hang back when it was obvious he could give more and give harder. <i>Why can't he give a hundred percent?</i> you'd exclaimed. <i>Probably,</i> Mr. Javits said, <i>because he's afraid a hundred percent still won't be good enough. If he only gives ninety percent, he can still pretend it would be.</i><br/>
<br/>
Speaking of Mr. Javits: When you get home to your new place he's out front giving the lawn an end-of-the-season mow. Without being asked, you haul out the weed-eater do the trimming—you have it in your hands before you realize how in-character this is for Seth, and how out-of-character it is for Will Prescott. <i>Gotta get the asshole outta my head,</i> you mutter silently to yourself as you work.<br/>
<br/>
Afterword, up in your new bedroom—with its shelves of trophies and ribbons—you relax on your neatly made bed with your cell phone. No text from Cindy, which pisses you off. But Catherine Muskov is asking you out to her house to an impromptu party for the Eastman guys. There's also one from Ryan Shuler, who wants to talk basketball business.<br/>
<br/>
Nothing from Caleb, though.</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324241323
author_id: seuzz
title: Gaming the Game
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Maybe your meeting with Jeremy has left you worried about the tryouts. Or maybe you're just feeling conscientious after helping Mr. Javits out in the yard. But you text Ryan Shuler back: <i>wsup?<br/>
<br/>
meet?</i> he texts back a minute later. You suck on your lip as you tap out <i>where?</i> For if Shuler wants to meet face to face, he must think it's important.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"It's this Monday bullshit," he snaps when you're settled in at a nearby McDonalds. <i>Settled in</i> but far from <i>relaxed</i>, for Shuler is squeezing you in on one side while Shawn Sax and Matt Nichols—two other teammates—glare at you from the other side of the table. "What are we gonna do about it?" Shuler continues.<br/>
<br/>
"Like do what about it?" you retort. "And why do you call it bullshit?"<br/>
<br/>
Shuler snorts and turns to his friends. Sax leans back and tilts his chin at you. But Nichols leans forward with a lowered brow. "So you're okay with these tryouts?" he growls.<br/>
<br/>
If they're trying to intimidate you, they've got the wrong son of a bitch. No one is going to throw a punch in a public place like McDonalds, but Seth Javits wouldn't dodge them even if he met them coming toward him on a dark street in the warehouse district. <br/>
<br/>
Still, way down deep, you can't help squirting out a little fart of fear. In his black leather jacket and close-shorn buzz cut, Nichols looks like a skinhead. Shawn—the only African-American on the squad—with his gold earring, his scarlet-and-emerald bandana, and his 'stache-and-goatee, looks like a ghetto gangbanger crossed with Jack Sparrow. Even Shuler, who at five-eight has to make up for his (lack of) height with pugnacity and precision shooting, exudes a well-muscled menace in his wife-beater and torn jeans.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not my call if we have to go through tryouts again," you retort. "I didn't tell Gordon to go fucking crazy and get his ass kicked off the squad." (Way down deep, you snicker.) "I didn't ask the Durrases to come out here and try out for the squad."<br/>
<br/>
"No one as'd if it was your idea, man." Shawn's voice is a resonant, rumbly purr. In three years of playing basketball and sharing classes with him, Seth has never once heard him raise it, even in anger. He doesn't have to. That voice, those hard-packed muscles, and that hooded gaze peering down an aquiline nose are usually enough to get him his way. "Alls we wants t' know is, is it bullshit? In your humble opinion." The last four words fairly drip off his lips.<br/>
<br/>
And despite yourself, you shift in your seat. "It's not the way I'd've handled it."<br/>
<br/>
"How <i>would</i> you have handled it?" Shawn's voice is almost inaudible.<br/>
<br/>
"Expand the roster," you say, and catch yourself in mid-squirm. "Or tell the Eastman guys they have to compete for Gordon's old spot."<br/>
<br/>
"Did you tell Patterson that?" Shuler asks. "Or Coach?"<br/>
<br/>
"Look, what do you want?" you demand. "And why are you bitching at me? You think I can do anything about it?"<br/>
<br/>
Instantly you regret the question. If they say "yes," then it'll put you on a spot. If they say "no"—if they even <i>think</i> it—you'll have forfeited most of your credibility with them.<br/>
<br/>
"<i>We</i> wanna do something about it," Nichols says. "We wanna know if you do too."<br/>
<br/>
You glance around the table. "What, you think I got a fucking time machine in my garage? 'Cos if one of us don't got that, I don't see how—"<br/>
<br/>
"You go to Patterson," Shawn says, "an' you tell him it's bullshit. You tell him," he continues in a soft, low rumble, "there ain't no reason t' change the squad, 'cept maybe t' add one o' these Eastman assholes."<br/>
<br/>
"So why don't <i>you</i> go and tell him that?" you retort. "Or are you too much of a chickenshit to face him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why don't you?" Nichols retorts in turn. His hair visibly bristles. "Or can't you take his dick out of your mouth long enough to argue with him?"<br/>
<br/>
You come half out of your seat with a bunched-up fist, but you catch yourself—and Shuler catches you by the arm—before you can throw it.<br/>
<br/>
"Patterson'll listen to you, man," he says. "He <i>always</i> listens to you."<br/>
<br/>
"Why, 'cos I got his dick in my mouth?"<br/>
<br/>
Shawn sniggers. "Say it a little louder," he purrs. "I don't think the cooks in the back heard you."<br/>
<br/>
You flush. Despite yourself, you're actually flattered by the compliment they're paying you. Steve Patterson is not known for listening to or taking advice from anyone.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, you said that's the way you'd handle it," Shuler says. He sweeps off his cap and ruffles his thick, chocolate-colored curls before settling it back on. "Replace Gordon with one of the two Durras guys. Just tell Patterson that's what he should do."<br/>
<br/>
"The tryouts are already scheduled," you point out. "And even if Patterson went along with it, we'd have to get Coach to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Who's making the new roster?" Nichols says. "Who's picking out who stays and who goes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Coach'll make the final decision, I suppose."<br/>
<br/>
"'Cept he's gonna listen to Patterson," Shuler says. "He always does. Him and Gordon, back when it was them two."<br/>
<br/>
<i>True.</i> Coach Brooks is a lazy, lazy man who likes to leave the running of the squad to the team captain, and you've got admit that Patterson is more than capable of running it without adult supervision. "That still doesn't explain how I get him to cancel the tryouts."<br/>
<br/>
"Use your fuckin' brain, man," Shawn sighs. "Alls Patterson's gotta do is pick a guy to replace Gordon, an' tell Coach he's for letting the rest of the squad be. Tha's all."<br/>
<br/>
You blink, and look around the table again. "Tell him it's about morale, or some shit like that," Shuler says. "Tell him we got a winning roster and it'll fuck us all up if goes cutting guys out and jamming new guys in. Except for whoever he wants to stick in for Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
Now you see it in a flash. These guys—these ball-busting bad-asses—are shitting themselves just as hard as Jeremy is. They're each terrified that they'll get cut from the squad, so they're banding together to try gaming the tryouts.<br/>
<br/>
You're tempted to tell them to go fuck themselves, that they'll find out on Monday night along with yourself and all the other poor assholes whether to come to practice on Tuesday. But their idea, if you could talk Patterson into it, would also save Jeremy.<br/>
<br/>
Better yet, it would save Jeremy without his knowing about it, because you could put the fix in with Patterson without telling him about it. It would boost his confidence if he stayed on the squad, even while the crisis might finally teach him to give that extra ten percent that he's been too scared to throw in.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, why didn't you fucking explain all this at the start?" you demand of the trio. "<i>That</i> I can do."<br/>
<br/>
The air freezes. Then Shuler, Sax and Nichols all break out in raucous guffaws.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"This better be fucking important," Steve Patterson says. With his hands on his hips he glares around the gym loft, then points to a large, wooden crate. "And if it's gonna take more than ten seconds you can make yourself useful by helping me move that."<br/>
<br/>
<i>The fuck room.</i> You can hardly believe it, but you're standing in the fabled Westside Lounge and Fuck Room. Even Seth, who has been invited a handful of times up to spend an afternoon in it, would get a thrill from standing in it again.<br/>
<br/>
Not that there's much to look at. It's a loft, vaulted over with iron rafters and lined on one side by a long row of dirty window pains, high up under the roof of the school gymnasium. Officially it's a storage room, and it's stuffed with crates and boxes and discarded gym equipment. There's a set of dusty, broken weights in one corner, and a row of shelves and cabinets along a far wall. A dorm-sized refrigerator sits next to one support pillar, and piled up in the center of the room is a stack of dirty gym mats that reek of sweat, beer, old socks, and—<br/>
<br/>
"You bringing a date up here tonight?" you ask Patterson as you grab one end of the crate while he takes the other. It's hefty, but you're able to shift it over three feet to open up some more space.<br/>
<br/>
"It's Saturday night," Patterson retorts. "Is that what you invited yourself up here to ask me?"<br/>
<br/>
And still you hang back from broaching the subject of the tryouts. Patterson scares you—yes, you, Seth Javits!—that much.<br/>
<br/>
It would have been different if it was Gordon you were asking. Sure, Gordon was six and a half feet of mean-minded muscle, like the offspring of a buffalo and one of the slabs at Stonehenge. But he would always listen even if it was with a frown, and if he said, "Fuck you, no," that would be the end of it and he'd basically forget you'd ever asked.<br/>
<br/>
But Steve Patterson, though taller and rangier, is like a dagger carved from cold stone and hardened ice. His eyes are the color of Arctic fog—a fog that hides icebergs—and the air seems to congeal when he locks them on you. And the son of a bitch has a memory, too. Every slip or misstep you've ever made on the gym floor; every wrong answer or embarrassing mistake you've made in a classroom; every goof, flub, bungle or boner you've ever pulled at a party—you're sure it's all been noted, processed, and cataloged in that analytical calculator he has for a brain. And you're pretty sure that his opinions of people only ratchet in one direction: down.<br/>
<br/>
But now you're up here with him, and you didn't even have to wheedle the meeting when you texted him. <i>at schl,</i> he replied. <i>come up.</i> So maybe Javits's rep is still high enough that you can safely make that pitch.<br/>
<br/>
He listens with cold courtesy until you're done.<br/>
<br/>
Then he says, "Are you fucking high? No."</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213242413231
author_id: seuzz
title: The Company That Misery Keeps
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Are you fucking high?" Steve Patterson asks after you've presented your idea for fixing Monday's tryouts. "No." He turns away.<br/>
<br/>
"Why not?"<br/>
<br/>
He favors you with a cold glance over his shoulder before grabbing and heaving another crate into a corner. "Because I want us fielding the best team in the state, you fucking numbskull."<br/>
<br/>
"We got that already," you protest. "Probably. Even without Gordon—"<br/>
<br/>
"We're picking up Frank and Joe Durras." He surveys the loft. "We gotta cut someone to make room for them, and besides—"<br/>
<br/>
"You've already decided to add them?" you demand. "Even before the trials?"<br/>
<br/>
He gives you another glare. "You've seen 'em in action. You know they're good enough. They're better than most of the faggots we got on the squad now. You know that too."<br/>
<br/>
A chill rushes down your back. "Yeah, well," you stammer, "maybe they're good, but there's a difference between having the best players and having a team that plays well together. I'm talking about—"<br/>
<br/>
You're talking about morale, you were going to say, but the word dies in your throat as Patterson crushes you under a look that's as heavy as an iceberg. "Are you telling me there's going to be trouble after the shakeup?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Pluto called. It wants its wind chill factor back ...</i><br/>
<br/>
"Well, not from me, but I've heard from some people—"<br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't wanna tell you, man, it was, like, confi—"<br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
You flinch. "Okay, Shuler and Nichols and Sax. But I bet there's others. I bet it's everyone."<br/>
<br/>
"Including you?"<br/>
<br/>
You grimace under his weight of his glacial gaze. "Look, none of us are happy. How the hell would <i>you</i> feel if Gordon was still running things and he made <i>you</i> try out for the squad again?"<br/>
<br/>
"Gordon wouldn't make me try out again."<br/>
<br/>
"Well then pretend <i>I</i> was running things and <i>I</i>—"<br/>
<br/>
"Kah!"<br/>
<br/>
You blink at the noise he made, then realize it was a laugh. Seth has never heard Patterson laugh before, you realize. (And neither have you, naturally.)<br/>
<br/>
"Then pretend that <i>Coach</i> is—"<br/>
<br/>
Patterson waves you silent, and he even smiles. (Sort of. It completely fails to connect with his eyes.) <br/>
<br/>
"I get what you're saying," he says. "I'm not a moron. I'm not surprised people are pissed off." <br/>
<br/>
Then the smile falls off his face. "Let 'em be pissed," he growls. "And if they're sincerely pissed off about having to try out again, then they don't have to show up on Monday. Or let 'em show up, and if they're so pissed off they can't shoot straight, I'll cut 'em for being not able to fucking handle a ball."<br/>
<br/>
His voice deepens without growing any warmer. "I don't want 'em happy," he tells you. "They just need to be happy to give me everything they got. And if they can't do that, then I'm willing to start over Tuesday even if it's just me, the Durrases, and you."<br/>
<br/>
His eyebrows go up fractionally, which drops the ambient temperature to just above absolute zero. "You will be there Tuesday, won't you?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>If I pass the tryouts,</i> you're about to retort, but you catch yourself in time. You straighten up, lift your chin, and tell him, "Fuck yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"Good. Is there anything else?"<br/>
<br/>
"You want me to pass that message along to everyone else, about skipping Monday if they're really unhappy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Your call if you tell 'em. <i>Now</i> is there anything else?"<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head.<br/>
<br/>
"Fine." He leans against the dorm fridge. "I'd ask you stay and make it a threesome, but I only got room in my three-ways for one sausage. So would you qualify to participate?"<br/>
<br/>
It takes you a moment to interpret his meaning. When you do, you flush and tell him you'll talk to him later. "Keep it for Monday," is his parting shot as you turn to the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
At home, your mom catches you in the kitchen as you're making yourself a small after-dinner sandwich. "I thought you'd be off with Cindy," she says.<br/>
<br/>
That would be your normal routine: down at the river, in your truck with a six-pack, a little weed, and your and your girlfriend's underwear twisted about your ankles. Not that your mother knows that, or needs to know that. "We had a fight," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, honey!" She raises her hand to stroke your shoulder, but pulls back as you tense. "Was it serious?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just a misunderstanding." You open the fridge to get a soda. "But we both kind of blew up."<br/>
<br/>
You avoid looking her in the face, but you can't escape the tiny "tkch" sound she makes. "Well," she sighs, "Cindy's a sweet girl. I'm sure if you call her and talk to her you can get it all smoothed out."<br/>
<br/>
You nod and dodge past her with your plate and bottle. "Probably do that now," you say as you rush for the stairs. You can feel her eyes on your back. She really likes Cindy, and it's all you can do to keep her from planning out your dates and your conversations for you herself.<br/>
<br/>
Upstairs, lounging on your bed, you shove the sandwich in your mouth with one hand and tap a text into your phone with the thumb of your other. It's not to Cindy, though. <i>talkd t sp,</i> you text Shuler. <i>he saod f peps dont likr trials dont cm t thm.</i> You get a lot of misspelled cuss words in reply, followed by a phone call. You're very tired by the time you finish relating exactly what Patterson said, and that you don't like it either, and you end up crossly telling him that if he and his friends don't like it then maybe they <i>should</i> just quit the squad. So he cusses <i>you</i> out and hangs up.<br/>
<br/>
And that leaves you too mentally exhausted to try sweet-talking Cindy into forgiving you. So you turn in early after shooting Caleb a text saying that you'll talk to him tomorrow afternoon.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"What's the old expression?" Caleb chortles. "No rest for the wicked?"<br/>
<br/>
"You callin' what I'm doing evil?" you demand of him.<br/>
<br/>
He rolls his shoulders in a shrug, and smirks. "Hey, I wouldn't call stealing a guy's body, soul and life <i>ethical,</i> but I ain't judgin' either. I just think it's ironic that you <i>still</i> got hornswoggled into going to <i>church.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Except you weren't "hornswoggled," for church attendance is a regular thing for the Javits family, just as it is for the Prescott family. So you were up early to shower and shave and put on some itchy slacks and wool socks, tight dress shoes, a constrictive tie, and a too-warm sports jacket. Still, you looked real nice (except for the still-fading bruise on your face) when you checked yourself out in the mirror—lots of straight lines and tapering angles. There were certain girls there—girls who go to the Christian school, which South Creek Presbyterian basically owns—who more or less drooled over you (as they always drool over Seth), much to your smug delight.<br/>
<br/>
But now you're dressed out much more comfortably in floppy athletic shorts, a polo shirt, and canvas sneakers, and you're hiding in a back corner of the municipal library, where no one is likely to catch you talking with (snicker) Caleb Johansson. Not that you're likely to be there long with him. You've been texting with Marc Garner and Laurent Delacroix, who are trying to get together a pack of guys for a game of touch football over at the municipal fields.<br/>
<br/>
"So," Caleb says now after the silence between you has turned awkward. "You hooked up with Cindy yet?"<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
His eyes pop. "Why not?"<br/>
<br/>
"I kinda got a lot on my mind." You clasp your hands between your knees, and your shoulders hunch up. "There's those tryouts on Monday, and everyone is freaking out." Briefly you relate the gist of your conversations with Shuler and them, and with Patterson. "So, it's all kind of fucked up."<br/>
<br/>
He sniggers again. "No rest for the wicked," he repeats. "But you're not gonna leave Cindy hanging 'til Monday, are you? I mean," he continues as he ignores the cold glare you throw at him, "isn't that what the cheerleader's boyfriend is supposed to do? Go crawling back, begging forgiveness?"<br/>
<br/>
You can't help sneering. "You'd love to see that, wouldn't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dude," he says, leaning forward, "hands on both my grandmother's graves, I would use a mask to turn myself into the proverbial fly on the wall to see that!"<br/>
<br/>
You briefly wonder if it would be possible to use a mask to turn yourself into a fly, or into some other kind of animal, but quickly dismiss it. "<i>Are</i> you going to turn yourself into someone else? Or is this"—you flick a contemptuous finger at him—"the best you figure you deserve?"<br/>
<br/>
He makes a face. "No, I've been thinking about it," he grumbles. "Not seriously, but I've been thinking. I got a look at the girl that Grant turned himself into. He's seriously hot now. He looks like Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"No!"<br/>
<br/>
He grins. "Totally. Like Chelsea Cooper's kid sister."<br/>
<br/>
"Whoa." You lean back in your chair. For a moment you're mesmerized by the thought of Chelsea—that bosom, those legs, that great mane of soft, golden hair. But gears are whirling in your head, and you're yanked out of the daydream by a sudden implication. "No! You're not thinking of turning yourself into ... Chelsea! Are you?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shrugs and rolls his tongue around in his cheek. "How come not?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, for a start, we couldn't hang out. Not with Cindy around."<br/>
<br/>
"So you got a better idea?" he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
Do you? If Caleb wants to be a cheerleader, there's girls who are Cindy's friends. Yumi Saito. Lin Pol. The Garners. As one of them, he could help you manage your girlfriend.</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132424132313
author_id: seuzz
title: The Enemy of My Girlfriend Is My ...
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>So Caleb is thinking of stealing the body and life of Chelsea Cooper, the captain of the cheerleader squad.<br/>
<br/>
There could be very cool, even if you'd have a hard time hanging out with him afterward, for your girlfriend hates Chelsea, and is plotting to displace her as head cheerleader. But maybe Caleb, as Chelsea, could help cool off that rivalry. It would sure make the life of Seth Javits easier if Cindy wasn't constantly exploding about what a bitch Chelsea is.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I think I can get her for you," you tell Caleb after mulling it over.<br/>
<br/>
"Who? Chelsea?" He sits up. "You can?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." You pull out your cell phone and thumb through your texts, looking for the one that Chelsea sent Seth. "She wants to meet up with me anyway," you explain. "It's how come Cindy's so mad at me. She found Chelsea's text on my phone."<br/>
<br/>
"Your phone." Caleb snickers. "I don't care who you look like these days, it's funny hearing you say that."<br/>
<br/>
You give him a dirty look, and return to tapping out a reply to Chelsea, telling her you'd like to meet her this afternoon at the city library.<br/>
<br/>
Her answer comes not twenty seconds after you hit "send." <i>So great! See you in ten!</i> A string of happy emojis and hearts follows.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That leaves Caleb scrambling to run home to fetch the necessary mask materials. Luckily, Chelsea's "ten" turns out to be closer to "fifty." Unfortunately, Caleb gets caught helping his mom and texts to say he doesn't know when he can get back.<br/>
<br/>
So you're stuck in the library alone when Chelsea texts to say that she's arrived, and to ask where you are. <i>back south wing,</i> you reply, and you lope out to find her. She's coming up the ramp that connects the periodical section to the library proper when you emerge from the stacks, and she does a double take at you and dimples in reply to your curt wave. "Back south wing," she titters. "You're talking like it's an ocean liner or something!"<br/>
<br/>
You don't think ocean liners have wings—back or forward, south or north, or any other kind—but you don't correct her. You hold out your arm to ... shake her hand? Help her with her bag? You're not sure. But she grabs the opening, and dives in to give you a quick, hard embrace. "We don't get to hang out hardly like this anymore!" she exclaims. "Remember back in tenth grade, before we were all, you know, <i>involved</i> with each other?" She turns a blinding smile up into your face. "We used to just hang out, and we could all have friendly hugs without it being a <i>problem?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Yes, you remember the time Gordon got in your—in <i>Seth's</i> face—and described <i>VERY LOUDLY</i> exactly how many of Seth's bones he (Gordon) would break if he (Seth) ever touched his (Gordon's) girlfriend ever again, even on accident. "That was really great," you admit as you put your hand awkwardly on her back. "I wish we could <i>all</i> be friends."<br/>
<br/>
"So true." Chelsea pulls herself closer to you. "Cindy's so pretty," she says in a tone that is very sweet but a trifle metallic. "She's so smart, too. Not like me, I'm such a ditz! I don't see <i>why</i> she acts so jealous of me."<br/>
<br/>
You freeze, and mumble something. "What's that?" Chelsea asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing. Um. My stuff's way back in there." You wave into the stacks.<br/>
<br/>
"You're hiding out!" Chelsea giggles. "We are, I mean. It's like a <i>secret rendezvous.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." You gulp. Despite yourself, you feel your cock stiffening. "Something like that."<br/>
<br/>
"It's okay, Seth." Chelsea, one arm still around your waist, pulls you toward the stacks even as she leans her hip against yours. ""I know. It would be kind of, yeah, awkward if Cindy heard about this. I assume you didn't tell her we'd be getting together like this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nuh uh. So, uh, what did you want to meet up with me about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Does it have to be about something? I just wanted someone to <i>talk</i> to. You know. A friendly, um—"<br/>
<br/>
You've come out the other side of the stacks, into a little corner where there's two low armchairs. Your stuff sits in one of them, and Caleb's abandoned book bag sits in the other. Chelsea is looking between them.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I think you can move that stuff to the floor," you tell her, pointing at Caleb's chair. "A guy was here," you further improvise. "But he had to run someplace, asked me to watch his stuff while he was gone."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea doesn't have to be told twice, and pushes Caleb's bag to the floor as she plops herself into the chair. Her eyes shine as you settle more stiffly into the other chair. She turns in her seat, pulling her legs up under her, so that she blaze her baby blues directly into your face. "So tomorrow's a big day for you," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh. Yeah. You mean the trials." You stiffen all over, and it's not all from the tension of trying to delay her, for the perfume of her hair is suddenly all about you. "It's gonna be a mess."<br/>
<br/>
"You'll do great," she says. "You're the best player on the team."<br/>
<br/>
"Steve is," you correct her.<br/>
<br/>
"Steve's just tall, that gives him an advantage. Even Gordon used to say that, and he and Steve were best friends. But you're <i>good,</i> Seth."<br/>
<br/>
The compliment embarrasses you. "How is Gordon these days? I don't ever see him since, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea frowns and sighs and shuts her eyes and shakes her head; you marvel at how elaborate she makes it all look. <br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," she says. "He just went from cuckoo to coconuts, you know. Steve and I—" She seems to catch herself, sighs again, then snorts. "Back when <i>we</i> were still talking. Anyway, we were all thinking that maybe his dad finally went too far and broke his brain. You know what a jerk Gordon's father is, right?" You reply with a small shrug. Seth has heard rumors that Gordon's dad, who's a cop, is even more terrifying than his son.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I can't help it," she continues, "whatever it is, but I don't think Gordon cares. He just wants to smoke dope and get high these days. And giggle." Her frown deepens, but her eyes show puzzlement. "It's so weird. It's like he's just so ... so <i>gosh-darn happy</i> to be off the squad and away from his dad and—" She bites her lip. "And broken up with me."<br/>
<br/>
For a moment her gaze goes very distant and very wet. It is still wet when she turns her attention directly onto you.<br/>
<br/>
"It's been really lonely for me, Seth," she says in a much smaller voice, "since I broke up with him. For awhile Steve and Jason and I tried keeping the old group going. And—" She hiccups. "And I told Steve that we should, like, get more involved with you and Cindy. <i>You'd</i> fit right in with us. Would have. I never did get why Steve and Gordon didn't, you know, let <i>you</i> have a key to the loft."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Probably,</i> you think, <i>because you pitched a raging fit when they suggested it.</i> That's what Kendra Saunders told you at the start of the semester, and she said she heard it directly from Steve.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyway," she sighs. "Steve and Jason had a falling out, and then Steve—" Her face puckers up all over. "Well, he said he didn't want <i>me</i> hanging out up there with him any more because—" Her complexion curdles beneath her makeup. "Because, he said, he didn't want people gossiping about us and getting the wrong idea. Which I suppose," she hisses, "was him trying to be a gentleman and saying that he didn't want people thinking I was his <i>whore!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
She catches herself again, and trembles all over. You fight the urge to clamber backward up the wall and onto the ceiling to get away from her, because it looks like she's about to have some kind of breakdown.<br/>
<br/>
And she does, though it's a lot quieter than the explosion you feared was about to engulf her.<br/>
<br/>
"So I was saying earlier that I'm just so starved for a friendly face," she says in a voice that cracks. She sniffs hard, and dabs back tears with the her fingertips. "Because I don't have Gordon anymore, or Steve, and Jason's off doing— I don't know what he's—"<br/>
<br/>
"You've got lots of friends, Chelsea," you gabble back at her. "Kendra and Gloria and Maria, and you're super popu—"<br/>
<br/>
"I mean <i>guy</i> friends, Seth!" She hiccups again, and now the tears are streaming hard down her face. "Do you <i>know</i> how much I miss having a guy to— To hold me? Or even just to touch me? Oh God!" She covers her face with her hands. "Just having one who smiles at me like a friend! I miss it <i>so—!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
That's the moment that Caleb chooses to swing around the corner of a bookshelf; and it's the moment that Chelsea drops her hands and catches sight of him. Instantly her expression turns haggard. "Yes?" she snarls at him. "You want something?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, this is the guy who was here earlier," you stammer.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, come get your shit and get out!" Chelsea kicks Caleb's bag at his ankles.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea!" you exclaim. "You don't have to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck it, man," Caleb says, and in two long strides he is looming over Chelsea. "I don't got time to waste." He slams his open palm against her forehead, and you've just time to see a flash of silver before Chelsea, her face a mask of surprise, goes slack. Her eyes cross and close, and her head lolls to the side.<br/>
<br/>
"Dude," you groan. "She was coming on to me. Hard."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't flatter yourself," he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Seriously. She was totally—"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, we'll find out soon enough." Caleb crouches in front of her, his hand on her knee, and stares up into her face. "Even if she was, though, don't expect <i>me</i> to."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Twenty minutes later.</i> "She was totally coming on to me, wasn't she?" you ask Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a look. "You've got worse problems than that, dude."</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324241323131
author_id: seuzz
title: Peeling Chelsea
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Dude," you reply. "How much more trouble could we be in?"<br/>
<br/>
You and Caleb are in the back corner of the city library, with the captain of the Westside High School cheerleader squad curled up unconscious in a chair as you and your best friend attempt to engineer a sort of body swap. If you're lucky, no one will come back here and catch you. If you're unlucky, you hope they'll just think Chelsea is asleep.<br/>
<br/>
At least the scene is a little better than it was a few minutes ago, when Caleb too was unconscious, and stretched out on the floor. That was part one of the swap, as he forced himself into a kind of mind meld with Chelsea by slapping on a magical metal band that contained a copy of her memories and personality.<br/>
<br/>
He's awake again now, though a little groggy, but he's got the presence of mind to dive for Chelsea as a bluish glow engulfs her face. He catches the mask as it drops out of her. "Now for the tricky part," he says as he lays it aside and digs into the plastic bag that he brought with him from home. He draws out another blue-tinted mask.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you doing?" you exclaim as loudly as you dare, for though you're hidden in a back corner, you are still inside a library and you can't afford to draw attention to yourself. "You're not going to put it on her, are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's the idea, isn't it?" he retorts. "Turn her into me?"<br/>
<br/>
"You want <i>Caleb Johansson</i> popping out inside her clothes?" You point at Chelsea. Her peppermint-colored sweater looks big enough to hold your friend's torso, and the skirt could probably fit around his own rail-like build. But her white hose would totally tear if his legs sprang out where hers are now nestled, and you wince to imagine his boat-like feet popping into her tiny little tennis shoes.<br/>
<br/>
"We can't have her waking up," Caleb hisses back. "Not after what we did to her. Maybe you could carry her out? We could put her in her car, it's parked outside."<br/>
<br/>
"I can't carry her out like this! It'd look fucking weird, and ten to one we'd get stopped by the library staff wondering what happened to her."<br/>
<br/>
"So we do what? Undress her here?" Caleb's eyes bulge when you don't answer. "No!" he gasps. "You're not seriously thinking—"<br/>
<br/>
"We don't have to get her out of <i>everything.</i> Just her shoes and her hose. The rest will be okay. I think."<br/>
<br/>
"You think taking her panties and hose off will be okay?" he whinnies. "Are you fucking—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just keep watch!" You drop into a crouch and pick up one of Chelsea's feet. "We should'a done this while she was being copied," you mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, fuck fuck fuck fuck <i>fuck,</i>" Caleb moans, but he hops over to keep watch for anyone coming through the stacks. Still you can hear him murmuring to himself there, even as you concentrate on Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
First one shoe you untie and pull off, then the other, while casting a fearful glance up into her face to see if it will wake her up. She doesn't stir. <i>Man,</i> you think as you slide a hand up under her skirt to feel for the top of her hose. <i>If Gordon—if the </i>old, real<i> Gordon—ever caught me doing this to his girlfriend, he'd wouldn't just break all my bones. He'd duct-tape me to the school parking lot and run over my head with his car. And then he'd get mean.</i><br/>
<br/>
You have to lift Chelsea's skirt to find the top of her leggings. You pry at the elastic top, which binds tightly to her waist, but it doesn't want to turn loose. You grimace, and shift your hold to the sides of her hips. Again you pry and tug, but only succeed in pulling her toward you, and she slides down in her seat. Her head lolls, and she groans softly. You freeze.<br/>
<br/>
But she doesn't wake. More carefully, you force your fingers between the top of her hose and her skin, and slowly peel it down.<br/>
<br/>
Bit by bit, inch by inch, sometimes working on the sides, sometimes at the front, and sometimes by reaching around her back, you tug the hose down. Your face twists up into a rictus of fear, and your heart hammers in your throat. This would be a hell of a lot sexier if Chelsea were awake and willing instead of lying there as a dead weight. As it is, you can't help thinking that it must be a little like trying to peel the panty hose off a dead, cross-dressing whale.<br/>
<br/>
You've just got the back of her hose off and under the curve of her buttocks when she makes a noise, and you look up in time to see her swallow. Her eyes are still closed, but there's no telling how long that will last. "Dude!" you hiss over your shoulder while keeping your eyes locked on her face. "Caleb!" You wrench Chelsea's hose the last few inches they need to clear her hips, and yank it halfway down her thigh.<br/>
<br/>
She opens her eyes and turns her head. For a moment she gives you a puzzled, sleepy look. Then her eyes widen, and she gasps. "Seth?" she squeaks.<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw hangs open. But before you reply, something long and brown shoots past your ear. For an instant it's like her face is swirling down a drain.<br/>
<br/>
Then you're staring into the frowning face of your best friend. <br/>
<br/>
You fly back, bumping into someone who grunts and also falls backward. There's a brief, confused battle with gravity, and then you're in a tangled heap on the floor. You whip around into a crouch and come face to face with your best friend. "Get off me," he groans. You scramble away until you bump into the wall, then whirl around and fall onto your ass.<br/>
<br/>
Two Caleb Johanssons are glancing with expressions of wide-eyed consternation between you and each other. The one in the chair is wearing a peppermint-colored sweater; white hose is clinging to his bony knees, and his dick is visibly flapping about underneath a disordered gray skirt. He kicks at the air, making a further twisted mess of the hose.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb—the real Caleb—is the first to recover his wits. "Stop that," he orders his doppelganger with a jab of his finger. The other falls still. "Will," Caleb says, turning to you. "Are you okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"I've been better," you retort, and glance around. At any moment you expect a librarian to come hurtling out of the stacks with a finger to her lips. "Let's just—" You lick your lips and pat the air with your palms. "Keep it quiet. Okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, let's just get this farce over. I told you it was a bad idea."<br/>
<br/>
"He's always getting bad ideas," the other Caleb says. "Shut up," you and the real Caleb retort in unison.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I'll keep watch now," you say as you scramble to your feet. "While you and, uh—" A horrible thought hits you. "Shit!"<br/>
<br/>
"What's biting you now?" Caleb demands.<br/>
<br/>
"You and him, changing clothes." You point between them. "He can't go out dressed like that!" The other Caleb has at least brushed his skirt down so it covers his crotch, but still looks like a cross-dressing scarecrow, and would look like more of one if he actually stood up. "And it'd be just as bad," you continue, "if <i>you</i> put on his— Uh?"<br/>
<br/>
"You were saying?" Caleb says as he pulls jeans, a shirt, and some sandals from the same bag that had the mask in it. "Some of us at least are able to think a little bit ahead."<br/>
<br/>
You make a face. "So where was your plan for dealing with Chelsea? No, just shut up and change." You turn your back to him. "And don't tell me to turn around until you're all set back there, because I <i>don't</i> want to see more than I already have!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The rest of the changeover is much less fraught. Caleb's replacement, in replacement clothes, lopes out a few minutes later with the original's wallet, keys and book bag; a minute later you and Caleb (still in his form and clothes) follow. He goes straight to Chelsea's car and climbs into the back seat with her things under his arm. At his direction, you camp out inside your truck to wait.<br/>
<br/>
Fifteen minutes later, a messy-headed Chelsea Cooper briefly pops up in the back seat of her car to look around, but she dives back down again, and you settle back to wait for a more definitive signal. It's another quarter-hour before it comes—an impatient flick of her wrist—and you run over to jump into the passenger side of her car as she gets out to move into the driver's seat. "Are we going somewhere?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Why would we be going anywhere?" Chelsea replies. Her eyes and face are much harder than they were up in the library earlier. "You think I wanna take you someplace quiet for a blow job?"<br/>
<br/>
You grin. "That's what she was planning to do with me, wasn't it?"<br/>
<br/>
Her lip curls into an ugly but familiar sneer—the expression Chelsea usually wore when forced to look at Will Prescott. <br/>
<br/>
"Whatever Chelsea was planning for Seth," she says, "it all went into the shitter half an hour ago. Same thing for whatever Cindy is planning," she adds.<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy? Planning what?"<br/>
<br/>
"To take over as head cheerleader, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Yeah, well, she hasn't told me her plans."<br/>
<br/>
"Doesn't matter what they are, they won't work. That's what I was gonna tell you back there, before we got in that fight with her clothes." She brushes down her skirt. "Chelsea had plans of her own. Tomorrow morning, your girlfriend was going to find herself kicked off the squad."<br/>
<br/>
You give a start. "Was?" you echo. "Uh, is the new Chelsea going to follow through on those plans?"<br/>
<br/>
Now Chelsea gives a start. "Why wouldn't she?"</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213242413231311
author_id: seuzz
title: Coups Within Coups
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Dude!" you exclaim, although Caleb—with his soft, golden hair, his pillowy lips, and his expansive bosoms—is looking very un-dude-ish at the moment. "That's how come I wanted you, uh, to you know." You point up and down his figure. "Be Chelsea," you finally gulp out. "So you could dial down the whole 'hate-Cindy' thing she's got going!"<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a look. "Are you saying you had ulterior motives when you told me you'd help get Chelsea?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb stares at you, then rolls his eyes. "Fine," he grunts. "I should've known. At least it's better than the blow job I was half-expecting you to ask for." He does a double-take into the rear view mirror, and adjusts it. "But you have to tell Cindy to start being nice to me too," he continues as he gives himself a look-over. "And that means letting me keep on keeping what I got now. We grabbed these bodies 'cos we want to enjoy them, right?" He puckers his lips at the mirror, then grabs and adjusts his breasts. "God! I need to get home and into the bathtub so I can touch myself <i>all over!</i>" He flashes you a hooded look. "Makes me feel sorry for you, you know. Best you get to do is manhandle Seth Javits's cock."<br/>
<br/>
"You sure are turning out to be a bitch."<br/>
<br/>
"Asshole."<br/>
<br/>
"Cocksucker. Yeah!" you bark before he can hurl another insult at you. "Just try not to think about what Gordon's cock tasted like!"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's eyes pop. "You—! <i>Eugh!</i> Get out!" He slaps at you, hard, with both hands. "Get out! Now I'm gonna have nightmares!"<br/>
<br/>
You laugh but hop out of the car. You run around to the driver's side, though, and tap at the window. Caleb rolls down the window. "Promise me you're not going to do that thing Chelsea was going to do to Cindy?"<br/>
<br/>
"If you promise to talk her into not making trouble for me."<br/>
<br/>
"Does Cindy really make trouble for you? For Chelsea, I mean?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's mouth twists into a snarl, but he catches himself, and his gaze goes distant. For a minute he stares past your shoulder, so intently that you glance back to see if he's looking at anything behind you. But there's nothing there but your truck and the wall of the library.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I don't know," he snaps when you turn back around. "Don't ask me figure out how much of the stuff up here"—he points to his temple—"is legit and how much is just paranoia and ragweed."<br/>
<br/>
"How much is Caleb Johansson?" you can't resist asking.<br/>
<br/>
He narrows his eyes at you, then with a poisonous smile he kisses the tip of his left middle finger, and blows it along the stiffened bird into your face. "Love you, Will!" he shouts as he starts the car. "Go give it to Cindy anally for me! Everyone driving this car would love to hear about that!" He backs out, twists the wheel around, and shoots forward toward the street. You watch until he turns into traffic and disappears.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Well, you really do need to talk to Cindy anyway. It's been a little more than twenty-four hours since her boyfriend has talked to or texted her, and you're beginning to worry that too much time is passing.<br/>
<br/>
So while still parked in front of the library you send her a note asking to meet. You're pleased when she quickly replies to say that she can see you this evening at her place. There's no indication of her mood, and after agonizing over it you decide not to inquire. <br/>
<br/>
You knock at the Vredenburgs' front door at a little after seven. There's a commotion like stampeding buffalo on the other side, then the door is wrenched open. Lucy Vredenburg, Cindy's even sexier older sister, gapes at you for a moment, then glowers balefully into your face. <br/>
<br/>
"Oh, it's you," she says. "Never mind!" she hollers over her shoulder. "I'll text and tell 'em I'm meeting 'em downtown!" She's bigger than her sister, so when she barrels past you, knocking you in the shoulder, you fall half a step back. "Nice seeing you, Lucy," you taunt her as she passes.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey! Dickhead!" You turn, and Lucy flashes you a sour smile. "So you answer when called." She is staring hard at you. "Are you really as big of a dick as people say you are?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, my dick's just as big as they say it is," you retort. Seth has never understood why it is that Lucy has it in for him, and you see no reason not to indulge his own instinct to jeer back at her.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, rinky dinky, then." But she cocks her head, and studies you appraisingly. "I dunno," she says at last, and there seems a glimmer of appreciation in her eye. "Maybe we <i>should</i> go hang out sometime, just once, to find out if you've got any redeemable qualities. Cindy—" She breaks off.<br/>
<br/>
"What about Cindy?" you ask. But without answering or amplifying anything she has said, Lucy turns and stalks down the sidewalk. She was a cheerleader, like her sister, two years ago at Westside, <i>and</i> she was captain of the squad. Since moving up to Keyserling College, it's like she has only gotten stronger, sexier, and more toned, and you can't help boggling a little at her ass as she strides away.<br/>
<br/>
"Lucy?" a voice calls from inside, and you quickly swing around and jump into the Vredenburg's foyer, slamming the door behind you. Cindy appears at the foot of the staircase, and you smile at her.<br/>
<br/>
"That was me at the door," you tell her. "Lucy took off when she, uh, saw me." You feel your smile fade. "Hey."<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," she replies. But she smiles too, though it looks a little pale. She twists a strand of hair behind her ear, and looks around. "So, come on up— No." She looks around again, then steps off the lowest stair. "We'll go in the sitting room."<br/>
<br/>
You wilt a little. <i>Bedroom</i> means a hard makeout session. <i>Sitting room</i> means polite talk, at best. You can't help comparing Cindy's ass to Lucy's as you follow her through the living room and through a wide, open archway. Cindy is a lot more lithe. But Lucy would promise you something to hold on to. She's probably much more of a tiger in the sack, too; and now that you think about it (with Seth's memories) you do remember hearing rumors about some deep-throated screaming that would echo through the gym rafters when Lucy was entertaining an admirer up in the fuck room.<br/>
<br/>
You shake yourself free of these thoughts as Cindy gestures you into a low-slung arm chair. With its zebra-pattern cushions, it's the only vaguely masculine thing in a room of chintz, ceramic figures, and fringed clothes draped over the end tables and the tops of the sofa and rockers. The walls and furniture are decorated in greens and pinks that are the color and texture of cake frosting, too. You have a vague memory of being told that it was decorated by Cindy's late grandmother to resemble her old home when she briefly moved in with the family when Cindy and Lucy were little.<br/>
<br/>
You settle deeply into the chair—<i>was it Cindy's grandfather's?</i> you vaguely wonder—and expect Cindy to take the sofa. But instead she puts her knee between your thighs, balances herself on the arms of the chair, and leans over to give you a soft, luscious (but tongue-free) kiss. "Oh wow," you gasp as she pulls away with a hooded smile. "That was, uh ... Not what I was expecting."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry I blew up at you," she says. "I know you'd never, you know, do anything to hurt me."<br/>
<br/>
"No. No, I wouldn't." It comes out as a squeak, for your cock is quickly stiffening. Cindy is still balancing atop you, only without touching you, and you gulp as you imagine her falling onto you with her mouth open, and her legs open, squirming to pull down her panties with one hand while tugging at the hem of your shorts with the other. <br/>
<br/>
You've got the second-most gorgeous cheerleader at Westside High looming over you, and she is <i>this close</i> to letting you crush her in your arms and with your hands. And all you had to do was turn yourself into Seth Javits to get it!<br/>
<br/>
Her smile turns puckish. "Anyway," she purrs, "it's not like you'd ever really <i>want</i> to date Chelsea. Right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God! Uh. No! What I mean is—" You gulp again as Cindy's eyebrows peak. "That's never gonna happen." On impulse you clasp her about the waist, and you feel a shiver run through her. "Why would I want that when I've got you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tch," she says. "And I thought I almost got you into saying something bad again. We could have had another fight. It's fun making up after we fight."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh ... Yeah!"<br/>
<br/>
She smiles, and there's a very liquid surge in your cock.<br/>
<br/>
But instead of falling onto you she straightens up. "Well," she sighs, "I won't have to worry much about Chelsea after tomorrow. Not after she quits the squad."<br/>
<br/>
She turns sharply at your yelp. "Something wrong?" she asks. "You didn't sit on a needle or anything, did you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I—! What did you just say? About Chelsea quitting the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"I made a deal with Kendra. That's where I was this afternoon, talking with her and Yumi and—" She sighs. "And Lin and Eva and Jessica and yada bladdah blah." Her expression turns wistful. "There's going to be a vote of confidence at practice tomorrow, and Chelsea's going to lose it. Kendra and Michelle are going to vote against her."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes turn wet. "Kendra gets to be the new squad captain, though," she says, and there's a little squeak in her voice. "That's her price for helping us finally getting rid of Chelsea. But it'll be worth it, I think, 'cos there's no way Chelsea's going to stay on the squad after we can her ass."<br/>
<br/>
She sniffs. "Oh, Seth," she groans as you boggle at her. "Do please tell me that you <i>never</i> wanted to date the head cheerleader!"</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132424132313111
author_id: seuzz
title: Of Tryouts and Tribulations
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You do your best to comfort Cindy, whose dream has been to follow her sister, Lucy, in becoming captain of the Westside cheerleader squad. It'll be worth forgoing that dream, you assure her, if it means getting Chelsea off the squad. Cindy smiles (though wanly) and kisses you (but chastely).<br/>
<br/>
That's very nice. But all that time you're thinking, <i>Gotta warn Caleb, gotta warn Caleb.</i><br/>
<br/>
It's a little before nine o'clock before you can tear yourself away, though. You've already got your phone out as you pull into the first shopping center you pass on your way home. "Hello-oh!" Caleb chirps when you pick up.<br/>
<br/>
You waste no time filling him in what you learned from Cindy. Some of it he will already know: That Chelsea intended to call for a vote of confidence in herself tomorrow morning, one which she was sure she could survive. But, you inform him, Kendra has arranged to double-cross Chelsea by giving her vote (and the vote of another cheerleader) to Cindy, which would give the rebels enough votes to oust her. "So," you conclude, "I know you said you weren't going to do anything to Cindy. But I just want to make sure that you know that you can't call that vote tomorrow. 'Cos you'll lose it."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb is silent for a long moment. "Jesus," he says at last, in a low, angry voice. "Oh, God, I knew—! Chelsea knew that Kendra was a snake, but—! Oh, fuck!"<br/>
<br/>
"So what are you gonna do?" You feel the small hairs rising on your back.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," Caleb mumbles. (It sounds like he's chewing his fingernails.) "Fuck! I mean, I'd still be keeping the tits and the pussy, even if I'm not head cheerleader. You know? But fuck, I was really looking forward to swanning it around at school tomorrow, the way Chelsea does, rocking that whole 'I'm the head cheerleader and you're a sorry sack of shit' thing she does. Oh, God damn it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, we weren't counting on all this drama when we picked who we wanted to be, were we?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who's this 'we', dickface? I don't know what kind of drama <i>you</i> think you gotta worry about—"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, the tryouts tomorrow?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you. You got nothing to worry about there."<br/>
<br/>
You gasp. "Even if I don't, there's still—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't wanna hear it, Will, I've got, like, eight hours to fix this mess with Kendra and Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"What's to fix? Just don't have that vote tomorrow!"<br/>
<br/>
"It's not that easy," he retorts. "Look, thanks for the heads' up, I owe you bigly, but I gotta figure out what I'm gonna do about it. Shit, and this comes right when I was having fun posting photoshops of Kelsey eating dog food on x2z. I'll catch up to you later." He hangs up before you can reply.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Later,</i> though, does not encompass <i>tonight,</i> and you go to bed without hearing back from him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's no message from him the next morning, either, but you've got other stuff to distract you. You arrive at school so early you even beat Patterson there. "You spend the night here?" he asks when he does arrive.<br/>
<br/>
"Just wanted to get here early, see if you need any help." In the back of your head you're thinking, <i>Don't be such a suck up, don't be such a suck up!</i><br/>
<br/>
"Just don't embarrass yourself this morning," he says as he unlocks a side door into the gym. (Having a key of his own—another perk to being team captain.) "And that's for your sake, not mine." You glower at his back as you follow him in.<br/>
<br/>
Everyone else shows up early too, so that team members and team hopefuls alike are dressed out and warming up a good ten minutes before practice is officially supposed to start. There's no chatter, no laughing, and certainly no smiling. There's a tension in the air, as of a bowstring being drawn very tight. You feel everyone watching everyone else out of the corners of their eyes, and naturally you contribute a few sidelong glances of your own.<br/>
<br/>
Mostly, of course, you're interested in the Durras brothers, coming from Eastman. Frank is the taller of the two, and he moves with a power and confidence that puts you in mind of a locomotive. His eyes glint watchfully from under dark bangs as he sweeps the gym with a keen glance. His brother, Joe, looks a lot more cheerful and approachable, with a wide, bright and easy grin and shaggy blonde hair that hangs over his ears and tangles up in his brows.<br/>
<br/>
You're not sure what to think of them, but Seth's instincts tell you to be careful.<br/>
<br/>
But they're not the only guys who are joining practice for the tryouts. Paul Fitzgerald and Michael Metlock are there too, which doesn't surprise you, as they were on the JV squad but didn't make the cut for the varsity squad. Adam Dortch's is more of a surprise. He too played on the JV squad, but only through your sophomore year before dropping off it—and dropping most of his old friends—without explanation over the subsequent summer. So you have to wonder why he's trying to get back on.<br/>
<br/>
The biggest surprise, though, has to be Will Prescott, who is stretching out by himself at no little distance from everyone else. Every one of the new applicants made it by impressing Steve in a set of qualifying trails. You can scarcely believe that Gordon did well enough with your old body that he made it this far, but the evidence is that he did.<br/>
<br/>
The tension—which only increases as the minutes pass—is finally broken when Coach Brooks comes striding out of the PE offices with Patterson at his elbow. Seth hasn't seen much of the coach this season, and you're struck by how roly-poly he is. The elastic of his purple shorts is cutting deep into his gut, and his jowls are even jowlier. He is also very hairy (except on top, where his egg-like pate is very shiny) with caterpillar-like eyebrows and hairy knees.<br/>
<br/>
His instructions are short and to the point: The competitors will be divided into two groups and work out on the two separate basketball courts, demonstrating their skills and stamina in a series of drills. "We'll wrap it all up with a little game,"  he concludes. "It's supposed to be fun, isn't it?" But his face shows no trace of amusement as he says it.<br/>
<br/>
You're part of the group that's sent to the court on the other side of the mezzanine, and you're disappointed to see that the "new guys" will be staying behind. So is Jeremy, and he gives you a quick deer-in-the-headlights look as you turn to jog off after Patterson. With you, you notice, are the team members you'd bet on surviving the ordeal: Shuler and Sax and Nichols; Dylan Lloyd and Jonas Martin; Darren Green and Luke Bennett. <br/>
<br/>
You're not given long to wonder about it, though, for Patterson almost instantly sets everyone to a hard jog around the perimeter of the court.<br/>
<br/>
The mystery deepens forty minutes later when Patterson (after switching off supervisory duties with Coach Brooks) returns to send five of your guys onto the other court while bringing over four replacements. Jeremy is one of them, and during a quiet moment you ask him how things went on the other side. He shakes his head. "Fuck," he mutters in a very low voice. "Those Eastman guys are spooky good. An Dortch is like he's still in practice, too." He darts you a quick, worried look.<br/>
<br/>
"What about—?" You jerk your head at Fitzgerald and Metlock, who accompanied Jeremy over, and who are looking very grim as they execute a gladiatorial-like one-on-one duel under Patterson's intense gaze. They look like they're trying, but their moves are clumsy.<br/>
<br/>
"Pf, I'm better'n them," Jeremy mutters back. "If I get cut it won't be for one of them."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not gonna get cut, man," you assure him, then button your lip as you catch Patterson glaring at you, so you don't get a chance to ask how Prescott did. A minute later, Patterson pulls Fitzgerald and Medlock out and puts Jeremy and Scott Frazier in. You're pleased to see that Jeremy more than holds his own. But you don't like the look on Steve's face as they fight it out.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Keep your phones turned on this afternoon and tonight," Coach Brooks tells the assembled players when it's all over. "We won't try to keep you in suspense. Okay, shower and change, boys. No one wants your stink in a classroom."<br/>
<br/>
The mood is very subdued at the lockers afterward, with none of the usual taunting horseplay. You accompany Jeremy out; at the door you're surprised when Shuler stops you and offers a friendly fist bump. Jeremy's brow is creased with worry when you turn back to him again. "Nothing," he says when you ask what's wrong. "I should feel good."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure you should. You made it, I'm sure."<br/>
<br/>
"No," he replies tonelessly. "I should feel good because it's over. I can't change the outcome now." You wince internally.<br/>
<br/>
First period is a study hall for you, which Seth usually takes in the PE classroom under the gym mezzanine, so you return there after changing books at your locker. This gives you a chance to stare and grin at Cindy as she and her friends come out of the changing room for cheerleader practice. She returns you a confident smile of her own.<br/>
<br/>
But that smile has vanished twenty minutes later when she charges into the classroom and flings herself into the chair across the table from you. You can only stare as her face twists up to fight back tears. She struggles for a moment, then runs from the room.<br/>
<br/>
You're halfway out of your seat when a green-faced Yumi Saito comes in. "Oh, you're here," she says. "You better go after her."<br/>
<br/>
"What happened?" you ask with a heart that's plunging downward like a falling elevator.<br/>
<br/>
"Shit happened, that's what. Half the squad just got cut." She looks dazed as she says it.<br/>
<br/>
<i>"What?"</i><br/>
<br/>
"It was like an ambush. Chelsea even waited for us to spring it. And she left it to Coach Tesla to drop the axe."</span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324241323131111
author_id: seuzz
title: A Double Cross to Bear
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"The fuck?" you exclaim in answer to Yumi's news. "I thought Chelsea was gonna— Guh!"<br/>
<br/>
"You thought Chelsea was going to what?" Yumi's brow crinkles.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," you stammer. "What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, how much did Cindy tell you about what was going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"She told me she made some kind of deal with Kendra. That Chelsea was going to call some kind of vote, but Kendra was going to vote with you guys."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, fucking Kendra," Yumi glances over her shoulder. "She double-crossed us." She closes the classroom door and perches on the edge of the table.<br/>
<br/>
"So she tells us yesterday that Chelsea is going to call a confidence vote this morning, right? Then she was going to get Coach Tesla to cut the people who voted against her. You know, because it was 'demoralizing' to have them around." You nod, for this is basically what Cindy had told you. "But this morning Chelsea doesn't say anything. No vote. So we just start to have practice. And the rest of us are all looking at each other like, what the fuck, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
Yumi shakes her head. "So I guess Cindy finally had enough, and she just blurts out, 'Chelsea, I think we need to have a vote, 'cos most of us don't like what's going on with you and the squad', and Chelsea says, 'Cindy, you don't want to do this', and I'm looking at Kendra but Kendra's not saying anything or doing anything, not giving us any kind of signal. So we have the vote, and—"<br/>
<br/>
She takes a deep breath. "And technically Chelsea loses it, 'cos she only has four people voting for her, including herself, but you need seven out of ten to kick her out as captain, and <i>Kendra</i> voted for her even though she promised us her vote—"<br/>
<br/>
Yumi's voice cracks. It's obvious, from her demeanor, that she is fighting the urge to start hurling furniture about.<br/>
<br/>
"And then what happened?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, Chelsea's all just as cool as can be, and she says, 'I think we need to talk to Coach Tesla about it.' So she calls Coach Tesla out, and it's like everything was planned ahead of time, 'cos <i>she</i> says the squad can't go on if it's got that kind of a split, and she tells those of us who voted against Chelsea—" Her voice cracks again. "She tells us to pack up and leave." She punctuates the story with a shrug.<br/>
<br/>
"So that's who?" you ask. "You and ... and Cindy and—"<br/>
<br/>
"And Lin and Eva and Jessica and Michelle." Yumi sighs. "Kendra even double-crossed Michelle, got <i>her</i> to vote with us so she could get <i>her</i> cut too.<br/>
<br/>
You feel feverish. "You figure maybe Chelsea got Kendra to set you guys up?"<br/>
<br/>
Yumi shrugs. "Don't know. Doesn't matter. You need to go find Cindy now."<br/>
<br/>
You'd rather find Caleb and kick his ass. But you sweep up your books and shove them into your backpack. "Seth," Yumi says as you charge for the door. "Don't be a moron when you find her. Don't talk about it. Just be there for her."<br/>
<br/>
You nod and mumble a "thanks" at her.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It takes you awhile to find Cindy. She's not in the library, and neither is she in the theater wing. You don't find her until you're making a circuit of the back of the school—and praying she's not so stupid as to run off toward the portables, where the worst elements of the school like to hang out—that you spot her sagging against the corner of the natatorium. <br/>
<br/>
Remembering Yumi's caution, you approach her without speaking. She glances up at you, showing a tear-streaked face. You drop your pack at her feet and take her in your arms. For a moment she resists.<br/>
<br/>
Then she grabs and clings to you, pressing her face into your shoulder. She shakes all over as she quietly bawls.<br/>
<br/>
Time slows. You're not the least bit aroused by having her in your arms, despite how good her curves feel. Instead, you are overborne by a tender desire to hold and shelter her, and to gently squeeze her until all the horror and anger and shock have been wrung from her. This girl has done nothing to deserve this grief. On the contrary, she has borne every insult and degradation that Chelsea Cooper has hurled at her, and has been tricked into destroying both her dreams and her happiness. As you meditate on her wrongs, your anger burns deeper. Kendra needs to pay for it. Chelsea needs to pay for it. Caleb—<br/>
<br/>
Way down deep, far below Seth Javits's seething fury, you are much colder and calmer. Is this disaster really Caleb's fault? He promised you that he wouldn't call that vote, and according to Yumi he didn't. It was Cindy who pressed it. Maybe he was just as surprised by Kendra's treachery as Cindy was? Maybe Kendra is the real villain?<br/>
<br/>
Or maybe you were, by warning Caleb of Cindy's plan. So your anger is mixed with fear and humiliation as you wonder how much of this catastrophe is due to your own betrayal of Cindy—a betrayal you could never explain to her, and never apologize for.<br/>
<br/>
Eventually Cindy quiets down, and her muffled sobs turn into sniffles and snuffles. Her eyes are pools of horror when she turns her face up to yours, but at least her gaze is clear. "It didn't work out," she says in a small voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I heard. Don't talk about it." You pull her close.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess I have first period off now," she says after a long silence. "I can spend it with you, in study hall."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess you can," you agree. "Though I'd rather we could spend it together on the cheerleader squad. What would you think of that?" You give her a gentle squeeze. "You and me, cheerleaders together?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God," she says, but there's a little titter in the exclamation.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, don't you think I'd look good as a cheerleader? A skirt and hose? I'd have to pad my bra—"<br/>
<br/>
"Seth!" Now she does giggle.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey! That's right, I'd get to wear a bra! I'd get myself a big one, too, the kind you could carry cantaloupes around in." She punches you in the chest. "I'd make everyone else on the squad jealous! 'Omigawd, lookit Seth! How come <i>he</i> gets to have giant hooters, and we'—"<br/>
<br/>
"Stop it!" Cindy hiccups. "We wouldn't put you in a skirt!"<br/>
<br/>
"Why not?" You pretend to be offended. "I got the legs for it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, you <i>do.</i> Actually, I do kind of wish—" But she breaks off, and puts her face into the crook of your neck, rubbing it there. <br/>
<br/>
"You wish what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing. Maybe it's better this way."<br/>
<br/>
"No it isn't," you reply, and you feel her tense all over. "But it'll be okay. I'll see to that."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy raises her face. Her brow is dark and her eyes fearful. That fear visibly deepens as she stares at you.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" she asks. "You're not— You can't beat Chelsea up!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's not what I meant. But anyway, who says that I can't?" Adrenaline floods your limbs, and you feel your lips peeling back with the urge to fight and rend and tear and crush. "What that cunt needs," you announce in a very loud voice, "is a really good sock in the snoot. She's a spoiled, fucking—"<br/>
<br/>
"Seth! Shh!"<br/>
<br/>
"—conceited, duplicitous, five-faced—!"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy grabs you by the back of your head and jams her mouth into yours. Her tongue stills yours. You crush her in your arms and kiss her deeply back.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You wind up skipping second period together, for she doesn't look like she's in any shape to go into class. But before the bell can ring for third period she does duck into a girls' bathroom to clean herself up. So she is perfectly presentable during third-period Chemistry, which the two of you share. Then there's lunch, which is normally taken in the cafeteria with the other cheerleaders and basketball players, but which today you take in the student parking lot, in your truck. The shock of first period is still on her, though, so you talk not about it or school, but about possible camping trips you might take. <br/>
<br/>
Then, after stopping off at the locker the two of you share, you part for the rest of the day until eighth period, when you'll have English together.<br/>
<br/>
Fifth period is a bullshit business class, but sixth period is Athletic Weight Conditioning. Seth used to spend it in the company of Gordon and Steve and Jason Lynch, but then Gordon stopped coming and Jason has been doing his working out with the wrestlers, leaving you and Steve to spot and watch each other. But as you're changing out in the locker room, you find that there's two new additions to the class roll.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, look who it is!" Joe Durras's voice rings off the cement walls and the metal lockers. He grins brightly at you. "Missed you this morning, should'a been with us on our side of the gym!" He raises his hand for a high five, but it blurs as you try to slap it, and he punches you lightly in the chest instead. "Gotta be quicker'n that! So's this locker taken?" He bangs the locker next to yours, and the door pops open. This seems to surprise him, for his jumps back, then turns to give his brother a dark look.<br/>
<br/>
"Javits," says Frank. He leans past Joe to put his hand out. His grip is very firm, you discover. "Looking forward to working with you."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh?" You can't help but bridle at his presumption. "You think you made it onto the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes." His smile is faint but confident. "Of course I could be wrong."<br/>
<br/>
"Frank's always wrong," Joe chortles, "which is how come he shouldn't jinx it. Yeah, he's always wrong and I'm always right, which is fucking weird seeing as how he's an AP student and I'm stuck taking remedial bullshit." He glares at his brother. "Explain that, Eisenstein!"<br/>
<br/>
"You mean Einstein, you dope," Frank snaps back. To you he says, "Can we get together after school?"</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213242413231311112
author_id: seuzz
title: It's the Suspense That Gets You
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You probably wouldn't hang out with Frank and Joe Durras even if you didn't have tons of other things to do. "Sorry, I've got plans," you tell Frank. "Anyway, I bet Steve'll be putting a party together for all of us once the roster is set."<br/>
<br/>
"Oooh!" Joe hoots. "Shot down <i>again,</i> Frank! What does this make, two hundred and thirty-nine times in a row? Maybe you should try asking out a girl instead," he adds as his brother turns a slit-eyed stare onto him. "Or maybe you should ask around, find out who at school is actually <i>gay</i> before you— Eyeaaiggh!"<br/>
<br/>
Joe leaps away and disappears around a corner with Frank it hot pursuit. You flinch as all the lockers in the changing room clang and bang in unison, as though thumped simultaneously with a hard fist. From the back of the locker room, Joe Durras howls and laughs.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Why, are you expecting to get a text tonight?" Patterson asks you during sixth period, when you have a chance to quietly ask him when people will find out what the new squad roster looks like.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, Coach told us to keep our phones on—"<br/>
<br/>
"Only guys getting cut'll get a text," he says, then grimaces as he pushes the weights up again. "And the guys getting added."<br/>
<br/>
"And who are they?" You can't help shooting a glance at the other side of the mezzanine, where Joe and Frank Durras are getting friendly with Laurent Delacroix and the wrestlers.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson does three more reps before sitting up. "Why, are you taking or placing bets?" With a towel he wipes down his chest, which is thickly matted with hair. "But yeah, keep your phone on," he adds after taking and exhaling a deep breath. "I'll send everyone a text about the roster after it's settled."<br/>
<br/>
"Which will be when?"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus. I have to conference with Coach, you know. He still likes to pretend he's in charge. I'll tell you this much, though, if you can't fucking sit still. I need someone to take over doing the liaison thing with the jay-vee squad." That was Patterson's job when Gordon was still team captain. "Are you interested?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, sure."<br/>
<br/>
"Good." His glance is cold but not unfriendly. "You know what that means, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not getting cut?"<br/>
<br/>
The ambient temperature drops a couple of degrees. "It means that you keep Robey and McInerney and the rest of those cocksuckers off of my dick, or else I'll come down hard on <i>yours.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Right. Sure." Seth actually gets along with the JV guys, including those that Patterson can't stand, so that won't be a problem. "I'll make sure they keep to the, uh, chain of command."<br/>
<br/>
Patterson lays back down to resume his workout, so maybe he doesn't mean to roll his eyes at you, even though he does.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Jeremy is loitering outside the door to your Stat class when you go to seventh. "Did Steve say anything to you about, uh, things?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you said you were just happy it was over," you say as you brush past him into the room. When he doesn't reply, you turn around. He is staring at you with horror-struck eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God, he told you, didn't he? And I'm—"<br/>
<br/>
"He didn't tell me shit," you reply. "I asked and he just got mad at me."<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy's face falls further. "He knows you were asking about me. Or you wanted to know about me, at least. Right?" His voice falls to a whisper. "That's how come he—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I bet he was pissed because I bet everyone has been bugging him about it. And don't take this the wrong way, man, but my girlfriend just got cut from the cheerleader squad, so I got a lot on my mind right now." Out of the corner of your eye you notice heads lifting and turning in your direction.<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy's jaw drops. "The fuck? Cindy?" he squeaks.<br/>
<br/>
"And Yumi and the Garners and a bunch of other girls. Fucking gym was swimming with blood after first." You wince a little as it hits you that there is a gynecological interpretation of that metaphor. "So, if you don't mind, can we postpone the freakout until we <i>know</i> you've got something to freak out over?"<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy turns very pale and stammers an apology. "Forget it, man," you tell him. "I'll call you tonight. We'll get together, one way or another, one reason or another. But I gotta—" You do a double-take at Caleb Johansson, who is watching you with open interest. "I gotta hang out with Cindy after school," you growl at Jeremy while glaring at Caleb. "You know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. I'll—" Jeremy audibly gulps. "I'll talk to you later." When you glance back over, he's gone.<br/>
<br/>
That leaves you free to swing on over to where Johansson's golem is sitting. He shrinks back as you swing up next to him, and he gasps as you grip him by the hair at the top of his head and wrench him into sitting up straight.<br/>
<br/>
"Text Chelsea and tell her I need to meet with her," you hiss in his ear. "Tell her not to text me or call me, but to text or call <i>you,</i> and <i>you'll</i> pass the message along. Understand?"<br/>
<br/>
He nods, and winces as he nods, for you've still a tight grip on his curls.<br/>
<br/>
"And don't say 'Chelsea' when you text me or call me. Say that 'Will' has a message for me. Okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," he says. "But, um ... Aren't <i>you</i>—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. But it's a code name. Understand? Good." You shove him forward. "Just remember what I told you," you warn him in a very loud voice, "or you'll be writing me an apology in your own piss and shit, you little fuck."<br/>
<br/>
All the nearby students cringe as you swagger past, except for that prissy-pants Kelsey Blankenship. "You're such a shit, Seth," she informs you.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry, I didn't know Johansson was one of your fuck buddies," you retort.<br/>
<br/>
"Asshole."<br/>
<br/>
"Bitch. Was that you I saw eating dog food on x2z this afternoon?"<br/>
<br/>
She gasps and glares; you chuckle to yourself as you saunter over to Seth's regular seat.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Afternoon practice has been cancelled on account of the morning's trials, so you have plenty of time to spend with Cindy after the final bell rings. You park down by the river and cuddle with her in your truck. There is no prospect of sex, of course, and you'd actually find it damn awkward if she did come on to you. Instead you just sit and hold each other and watch the swirling river currents. You don't talk much, and when she does rouse herself to talk, Cindy asks you about the morning's tryouts. You tell her what little you know and the even less that you can guess, for you really do feel in the dark about their outcome.<br/>
<br/>
You're glad for the talk, though, when you get a text from Caleb's number: <i>will says he w talk later when things calm down.</i> "Prescott," you gruffly tell her when she asks who "Will" is. "Guy who gave me this beauty mark." The bruise on your face is much faded but still noticeable. "I figured we should get, like, straight with each other," you explain when she asks why on earth you'd want to get together with him. "In case, you know, he winds up on the team."<br/>
<br/>
"That's not going to happen," she says. "Is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"You never know," you reply while secretly resenting the implication that the original you could never in a million years make it onto the Westside squad. "Patterson can be a real dick, you know. He might put Prescott on just to spite me."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, he wouldn't do that. He cares about the team too much."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, still," you grumble. "I don't want to talk about him. To be honest, I don't want to talk about the team or the tryouts, either. It's all been so stressful lately." You look over in time to see her eyes drop. "Hey, we'll get through it," you tell her. You point to your cheek. "Trust me, give it a week and the bruising goes down."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy smiles, but you can tell it's not genuine. "I'm just not looking forward to telling—" She sucks in a deep breath. "My family."<br/>
<br/>
"Lucy, you mean." You feel Cindy tremble, and she nods. "Best to get it over with, quick."<br/>
<br/>
"I know. Maybe you could—? No." She hangs her head. "I need to do it myself."<br/>
<br/>
"It's Chelsea's fault, not yours. She'll understand."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think she will. Maybe you should explain it to her. She was asking about you this morning, at breakfast."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Maybe she's finally thawing toward you. She said maybe you and her should get together to get to know each other."<br/>
<br/>
Lucy had said something like that on her way out the door last night, but you hadn't taken it seriously. You're not sure you take it seriously now, and just grunt.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Cindy soon decides she must get home. You return her to the school where she picks up her car, but you hang out a little longer in the parking lot, studying Patterson's car, which is still parked directly next to the gym. You know better than to disturb him, but you can't bring yourself to leave, either.<br/>
<br/>
Until a little after five, when a text pops up on your phone.<br/>
<br/>
It's from Coach Brooks, and it announces the new roster.<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy's name isn't on it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Fuck. I told you," Jeremy says. He takes another pull from the vodka bottle. There are no tears on his face, but he has the look of one who is crying, on the inside at least. "I fucking told you."<br/>
<br/>
"It's bullshit," you tell him. "And it's nothing against you."<br/>
<br/>
"Doesn't matter, I'm still off the team."<br/>
<br/>
"So are Green and Lloyd. I can't fucking believe it."<br/>
<br/>
"I can." Jeremy is starting to slur his words, for he started on the bottle long before you could return to the river to keep  him company. "It's Patterson's way of telling me what a piece of <i>shit</i> I am."<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 1112111321122222122222212212112211111111111121214112112132424132313111121
author_id: seuzz
title: The Gloom of Jeremy Richards
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's incredible. Literally, <i>not credible.</i> Patterson didn't just replace Gordon. He cut and replaced nearly a quarter of the squad.<br/>
<br/>
It had taken you nearly a minute to fully digest the new lineup. You quickly noticed that both Frank and Joe Durras's names were on it, which was not a surprise. You were bowled over, though, when you saw "Will Prescott" in the middle of the list. And after carefully combing through it, you grimly confirmed that Jeremy's name wasn't there.<br/>
<br/>
But he wasn't the only one Coach and Patterson had cut and replaced. Dylan Lloyd is gone too, which is a shock, and so is Darren Green. Lloyd is a smirking jerk, and you won't miss him, but he had drive and hustle and at least as much talent as Jeremy. Green didn't have any flash, but he was competent, and he and his friend Luke Bennett, when on the court together, played like they were psychically linked. You wonder how much better Adam Dortch, who will be replacing him, could possibly be.<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy takes another pull from the vodka bottle—the one he had with him, already open, when you caught up to him by the river. "'T's shit," he slurs. "I never should'a fucking tried out."<br/>
<br/>
You yank the bottle from him and swallow a large mouthful yourself. Then you chuck the bottle into the gurgling river. "Fuck you," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, fuck you," you repeat more loudly when he swings his head around to look up at you with his jaw hanging open. "Fuck you, man!" Your gullet is on fire, and so is your brain, and so is your scalp, it feels like.<br/>
<br/>
"You think it's the end of the fucking world?" You yell it at the river, not at Jeremy, because you can't bring yourself to look at him. "You think anyone gives a shit whether you're on some fucking high school basketball squad? Well, they don't! So why do <i>you</i> give a fuck? If it's not the end of anyone else's fucking world, why is it the end of <i>yours?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Your words echo inarticulately over the flat river. But there's no one else about to hear them. It infuriates you even more to hear them swallowed up by the empty air.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess you don't wanna be my friend anymore," Jeremy says in a thick voice. He starts to get up. "I guess I don't—"<br/>
<br/>
You grab a fistful of hair. "Fucking shut up and sit down before I punch your stupid face out the back of your head." He grabs your wrist, but his grip is weak, and you tighten your own hold, twisting his hair between your fingers.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't give a fuck if you're on the team or not, man," you pant at him. The alcohol you swallowed seems to vaporize off your breath. "Doesn't make no fucking difference to me. You think <i>that's</i> how come I hung out with, did shit with you, made you my—" <br/>
<br/>
Your voice catches. But you're already enmeshed—wracked and torn—in the whirling gears of Seth's personality. So after that hiccup you let go and let him have his say. "Made you my best friend," you finish with a gasp. "Is that it?"<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy chokes a little, but you don't relent. "You goddamn ... <i>peckerwood!</i> I'm the one who <i>fucking hauled you into the gym to try out for the team!</i> You think if it didn't made a difference to me before, it would make a difference to me now? Fuck you! Yeah, <i>fuck you!</i>" You shove him away. He cowers.<br/>
<br/>
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," you growl. "'Cos I don't feel one fucking molecule of sympathy for you as long as you're acting like this. Fuck you and fuck the team. You didn't even like being on it. And you think it matters to Garner or Dougherty or Richardson and them? You think it makes a fucking difference to them if you're on the squad or not? You think <i>that's</i> what they cared about? Yeah, let's go find them now," you jeer. "You can bawl your head off with them, see if they like that, see if they respect that! Jesus!"<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy says nothing, but only hangs his head and snuffles quietly. You pace in a tight circle, then in a larger circle. You walk off a couple of dozen yards and glare across the river with your hands on your hips, wondering at the fury that you feel—that <i>Seth</i> feels. It's like there's a stake through your heart. You want to punch Jeremy into a bloody pulp while screaming at him that he's your best friend and he always will be and you will fucking kill him if he doesn't get that.<br/>
<br/>
He's quieted down when you return to him a few minutes later, and is wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "Come on, man," you tell him gruffly. "Let's take you for coffee someplace, get you sobered up 'til you can come back here and drive yourself home."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You wind up at Starbucks, huddled inside a booth and facing each other while nursing a couple of plain black coffees. Jeremy is pale and wan, but he's in control of his emotions again. He hunches his shoulders but listens as you explain to him that his friends—the real, honest-to-God guys who like him and like hanging out with him; guys like you, and Marc Garner and Austin Dougherty of the soccer team, and Luke Richardson and Noah Baker and Sebastian Clarke of the baseball team—couldn't give a squirty shit about whether he's on any kind of sports team or not.<br/>
<br/>
"You know what they'll say tomorrow when they see you?" you tell him. "Probably nothing. Or they'll be, like, 'Man, it sucks what happened.' And that's all you'll hear. Then on Thursday or Saturday or some goddamn day they'll text you and we'll all go hang out and throw a ball around or go out to the Warehouse and you won't ever be able to tell that anything's changed. 'Cos them being friends with you doesn't have <i>shit</i> to do with the freaking basketball squad."<br/>
<br/>
"Except that's how I got to know them," Jeremy says darkly.<br/>
<br/>
"So what? That's just, like, how they got to know you. It's not how <i>I</i> got to know you, dipshit, and I think I still like you fine."<br/>
<br/>
He twirls the coffee mug between his hands, and you feel your exasperation with him returning. "It's just ..." He swallows and squirms. "I'm just worried people won't respect me as much anymore." His voice turns hollow and pained. "Like they only liked me <i>because</i> I was, you know, on the squad with you."<br/>
<br/>
You rub your temple. "Yeah, I can tell. And I keep telling you, it's not true. Though you might make it true if you keep going on like it might be true."<br/>
<br/>
He flinches and slouches backward in his seat. He pulls at his fingertips. He grimaces.<br/>
<br/>
"It's just so easy to be scared," he says. "You don't know what it's like, being scared."<br/>
<br/>
"Pfah! You think you're the only one scared of Patterson?"<br/>
<br/>
His lips twist into a kind of smile. "I don't mean him or Gordon. I mean, it's scary not being in the ... in the <i>charmed circle.</i>" Something about the way he says that phrase makes you think he must have read it somewhere. "People who you wanna hang out with, be friends with, and they just, you know." He shrugs. "Ignore you."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean the 'in group'."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I guess. You know, like back in middle school. Cameron Huber and his gang." He gives you a worried look from under lowered brows. "I'd watch 'em from outside and think, 'Man, it must be so great to be part of that crowd'."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, you're not in middle school anymore, and there's nothing charmed about the football team."<br/>
<br/>
"No. But hanging out with you, and Cindy." His tone turns wistful. "Marc. Austin. It's so ... So different from what it was like in middle school. For me."<br/>
<br/>
You tense all over, wondering if he's going to follow that thought in an obvious, logical direction.<br/>
<br/>
He does. "And you know what's really stupid about this whole thing?" he says, and his tone turns sneering. "Patterson cut me for Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"What's stupid about that?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's <i>Prescott.</i> Dork!"<br/>
<br/>
You tighten your grip on your mug. "I thought he was a friend of yours, a long time ago."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, a very long time ago. Tch!" Jeremy slumps further in his seat. "I bet <i>they're</i> all laughing about it right now. About how he fucking showed me up."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well." You down the last of your coffee. "They're not your friends anymore, so fuck 'em." You push your mug away and get to your feet. "Come on. Let's go back out to the river, find out if you're sober enough to drive yourself home."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Tuesday morning.</i> You get to school very early, and go looking for Tilley. You find him loitering outside on the other side of the school. He squeals and runs when he sees you coming, but you easily catch him.<br/>
<br/>
"You listen and you listen good, you little asswipe," you snarl as you grind his face into the wall. "You will go find Richards today, you and your fuckbuddy Johansson, and you will tell him you heard about the squad and you're fucking sorry about all what happened there, you get me?" Keith does his best to nod. "You will tell him it sucks, and that you and your friends were always proud and happy for him, and that what happened to him with the squad is <i>bullshit</i>. Then you'll tell him you're his friends and you always will be!"<br/>
<br/>
You pound him in the kidneys. "You got that, you <i>fucking sack of goat shit?"</i></span></div></div>


path: 11121113211222221222222122121122111111111111212141121121324241323131111211
author_id: seuzz
title: The Toppling Towers
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You've a strong sense of trepidation as you approach pre-class basketball practice—the first with the new roster. Everyone else seems to feel it too, for the mood in the locker room is very subdued. Even Joe Durras, who was a chatterbox before and after sixth period yesterday, puts his nose in the air, as though sniffing the mood, looks puzzled for a moment, then returns to changing his socks and shoes. <br/>
<br/>
But Patterson has things well in hand. He doesn't even introduce the new guys before setting everyone to stretching and then running. After that, it's drills and practice as if it was a normal day, and all thirteen of you had always made up the Westside High School basketball squad.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey man, great to have you back," you tell Adam Dortch when there's a pause and you find yourself panting next to him. "Like you never been gone." He jerks his chin in acknowledgement, and smiles before wheeling around to chase a ball that's bounded away and is now running free.<br/>
<br/>
What you said is true. Dortch is even better than you remember, as though he's been training. He was tall and lanky, even gawky, when you played with him as a sophomore, but he's filled out a little and put on some lean muscle. In one detail, though, he still looks like the guy who dropped off the squad to hang out with pot-heads: that great mane of kinky brown hair that explodes off his head in all directions and drapes down to his shoulders. <br/>
<br/>
Patterson has noticed it too, and halfway through practice he yells at him: "Put some bobby pins in that 'do when you come in this afternoon!"<br/>
<br/>
Dortch gives you a quick, twinkly-eyed grimace. "At least he didn't tell you to get a haircut, hippie," you chortle at him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Cindy's waiting at the locker you share with her. You pull her close and rub the side of her hip and the small of her back, and give her a wet kiss on the mouth. "Hang out with me this period," you murmur to her.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. But in the library, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
You make a face but acquiesce, and after changing out books you half lead and half carry her on your hip into the school library. You ignore James Lamont, one of your old friends who Seth torments and who torments him back, to drop your stuff onto a desk in a back corner near the stacks. Cindy settles in with you, and you help each other unpack each other's stuff so that you'll have an excuse to brush your hands together.<br/>
<br/>
"You hear anything about Kendra, and whatever went wrong yesterday?" you ask her. Cindy still has shadows around her eyes, as though she didn't sleep well, but her manner, though grave, seems steady. She shrugs and drops her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Jessica's been pumping Maria, 'cos they're still sort of friends," she tells you. That would be Maria Vasquez, who is Chelsea's best friend. "Maria seems kind of shocked at the way everything went down, but she says Chelsea doesn't tell her anything." She lowers her voice. "She did say that the new people on the squad are all going to be juniors and sophomores. Chelsea wants to broaden it out, 'cos it was all seniors before. She says that's how come Coach Tesla went along with Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
You pull at your lip. You don't know what to make of it all. It does sort of sound like this was something that Chelsea had been planning even before you and Caleb pulled a switch on her. On the other hand, opening the cheerleader squad could also be a way for Caleb to get some of Bhodi's friends to get onto the squad, so maybe that's the plan. Didn't he say something about one of the impersonated girls being a virtual clone of Chelsea?<br/>
<br/>
"But that's all Maria knows?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. Oh, except that Kendra is going to be, like, executive vice-president of underclass recruiting and management."<br/>
<br/>
"What?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm exaggerating. But she's going to be the assistant captain or some bullshit like that, and she's supposed to help manage the new girls."<br/>
<br/>
"So is that how Chelsea got Kendra to switch back to helping her?"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy makes a face. "Can't be. Why would Kendra settle for being vice-president when she could captain of the squad?" Her expression darkens. "I think Chelsea found out somehow about Kendra's deal with us, and she, like, threatened Kendra into double-crossing us."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean blackmail?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe. Or maybe it was, like, 'I will make you so miserable that you'll kill yourself the day before Christmas because you can't stand it anymore'." Cindy shudders. "Chelsea could do that, you know. Did you see those pictures on x2z she posted, of Kelsey eating dog food and giving it a thumbs up?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't waste my time there," you lie.<br/>
<br/>
"You should look. They were pretty funny, actually. Kelsey deserves it," she hisses.<br/>
<br/>
"Let's talk about what <i>you</i> deserve," you tell her, and clasp her hands between your own. You lean in and whisper about where you'd like to take her to eat some evening, and what you'll buy her on the way there, and about the room you'll reserve at the Embassy Suites and the expensive liquor and desserts you'll have waiting there. You describe how you would stroke her and undress her, and how you would gradually raise her to a pitch of wild, writhing excitement by holding and squeezing and nipping and tonguing her in certain places before blitzing her catatonic with the sustained attention of your cock. She spends the balance of first period as a soft, gooey, gently moaning puddle in your arms.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But you still have heard nothing from Caleb, so after walking Cindy to her second period class you go in search of the fake Johansson. You drag him outside and give him the same message you gave Tilley, then demand to know when you're going to hear from his original again. "I don't know," he bleats. "Stop it! Keith's used to this kind of shit, I'm not!" You tell him he'd better get used to it until he brings you a message from the real shithead.<br/>
<br/>
You brought your own lunch today, for you suspect you'll be taking lunch outside with Cindy from here on out. But to your surprise she wants to check out the lunchroom to see what the recent earthquakes have done to the seating arrangements. The previous practice had been for all the cheerleaders and certain select athletes (Gordon and Steve, Jason Lynch and Dalton Douglas, plus a rotating cast of temporary favorites) to sit at the center table. Even back then, lunches had always been fraught, what with all the jealous backbiting. Now that everything has blown up ...<br/>
<br/>
Even you're astonished, though, by what you find after you've got your trays.<br/>
<br/>
The central table is crowded with football players. Blake O'Brien. Brian Kelly. Roy Nelson. Cole Stanchik. Dominic Kleason. Inside, you shudder hard, for those are the asshole football players, the dope-smoking hooligans who run the Warehouse and who even Seth shies away from aggravating. Your astonishment deepens when you see the heads of Eva Garner and Michelle Estrich, looking confused and forlorn, bobbing amongst them.<br/>
<br/>
And where are Chelsea and her friends? They're two tables down—which for Chelsea is like being exiled to Siberia—where she and Kendra and Maria and Gloria Rea huddle at one end with their heads down while plainly trying to ignore—<br/>
<br/>
<i>Jesus!</i> You blink. <i>That's the marching band's table! Chelsea's been forced to sit with the marching band!</i><br/>
<br/>
"Hey, Seth!" You turn at the sound of your assumed name. Dortch is waving at you from the center table, and now you see that Patterson is sitting there too, between him and O'Brien. Your basketball captain gives you a brief, cold look before turning back to survey the lunch room. Dortch points to two empty seats at the table.<br/>
<br/>
But as you approach, Patterson speaks. "Eva. Cole," he says. "All you guys." He points to one side of the table. "Move down one. Cindy, you're there." He points to the spot directly opposite him. You puzzle at his orders, until you realize that he's pointing to Chelsea's old seat—the place from which she dominated the lunchroom when she and Gordon were still king and queen of the school.<br/>
<br/>
Out of the corner of your eye you glance at Chelsea. What must Caleb be thinking, to find himself banished, at the moment of his triumph, from the spot he intended to rule from?<br/>
<br/>
<i>Well, fuck him.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Good practice this morning," you tell Steve as you settle in next to Cindy, who has stiffened under the open grins of the football players. <br/>
<br/>
He grunts and looks through you. "A good start." He tips back his milk. "I wanna see you after practice this afternoon. Clear an hour out of your schedule."<br/>
<br/>
"About the jay-vees?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." He leans over to mutter to Adam, who raises his head, looks around, then shouts Olivia Byrne's name, and points to an empty stool.<br/>
<br/>
You look around the table, and your flesh prickles. Steve isn't just assembling a new basketball team, you realize. He's assembling a totally new posse to rule the school through.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Now you can say it was a good practice," Patterson tells you after school, when on dragging feet you follow him up the stairs to the loft. You wince but say nothing.<br/>
<br/>
Inside he pulls a beer from the dorm fridge and tosses it to you. "Oh, and here," he adds as he tosses you a ring with two keys on it. "That's for the side door to the gym and for up here. You're officially in."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Thanks." A hard thrill runs through you.<br/>
<br/>
"You and Cindy can have it weekdays, except Fridays. I'll want the place then, and Saturday nights."<br/>
<br/>
"That doesn't seem fair. To you, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"It's fair enough. Oh, one more thing. I moved the stuff up here."<br/>
<br/>
"What stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
Patterson strides over to a row of cabinets and unlocks them with a key. You look around his shoulder to peer inside.<br/>
<br/>
A dozen masks—mostly unpolished—are neatly lined up on the shelf inside.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213242413231311112111
author_id: seuzz
title: A Better Class of People
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You feel your eyes bulging and your sphincter loosening. <i>Patterson's got hold of the masks?</i><br/>
<br/>
You stare back up at him. He looks coldly back down at you.<br/>
<br/>
Then he breaks into a grin—a terrifying sight, like seeing a Great White shark breaching the ocean surface.<br/>
<br/>
"You're such a dope, Will," he says as he grabs you in a headlock. "I almost didn't tell you, it was so funny watching you hop and run every time I told you to!"<br/>
<br/>
You twist and kick, trying to get free before he can rip the mask off your face. <i>What is he going to do to you? Does he know about Gordon, and what you and—?</i><br/>
<br/>
A realization hits you, and the world turns a very dark red as the blood rushes into your eyes. "C—? Caleb?"<br/>
<br/>
"Took you long enough to figure it out." He shoves you away, and you bounce off one of the support pillars. "So is it you making Javits dumb, or him making—? Whoa!"<br/>
<br/>
You fly at him, but he dodges aside with a laugh and you crash into the cabinetry. You wheel for another charge, but a hard punch to the side of your head knocks you woozy. "Just calm down there, man," Patterson says.<br/>
<br/>
"You fucking—! How long, asshole?" you demand as he laughs again. "How long have you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Since last night." He stretches an arm and rolls his shoulder. "Didn't get a lot of sleep 'cos I had Kendra up here too—"<br/>
<br/>
"Kendra? The fuck? What happened with Chelsea?" Your eyes pop. "Was that really Chelsea out there today, at lunch—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nah, that was a golem. I got a couple of them now. Something we should talk about and one of the reasons I brought you—"<br/>
<br/>
"Whoa whoa whoa!" You raise your palms. "Start at the fucking beginning. Like, with what you did after we talked Sunday night!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's not complicated. After he hung up on you, Caleb did some fast thinking, then put in a call to Kendra Saunders. He had the masks and other supplies with him at Chelsea's house, and thirty minutes after Kendra arrived, a golem that looked like her left with orders for the next morning. "I was thinking of doing something with her anyway," Caleb explains, "and the whole cheerleader vote thing just made me speed it up."<br/>
<br/>
As for the vote and its outcome, Caleb disclaims any responsibility for that clusterfuck. "I didn't call the vote," he reminds you. "Cindy did. I was ready to let things go on the way they were going on, but she forced my hand."<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't have to cut her and everyone else from the squad!"<br/>
<br/>
"I sort of did. Chelsea'd set it up with Coach Tesla a long time ago, that if there was ever a vote of confidence, the people who lost it would have to quit the squad. Anyway, it really is for the best. It was seniors on it, and this way we can get some juniors and sophomores onto it."<br/>
<br/>
"Since when do you give a shit about that?"<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. "It'll be a convenient way of keeping in touch with Andy and Bhodi and them. We could add that girl that Grant's impersonating."<br/>
<br/>
The desire to keep in touch with people is also why he replaced Steve—it would be the best way of talking with you when he needed to. "Kendra is one of Steve's fuck toys," he explains. "Chelsea used to send her up to keep Patterson happy when she needed something from him, and I think Kendra liked it anyway. So last night I put myself in Kendra's mask, called Patterson up and asked for a good fuck, met him up here." He laughs—a nasty, Patterson-like sound. "Fucker was all laid out on that mat over there, naked and with me on top of him. So all I had to do was drop a mask onto his face. Plop! Then I changed places with him, took Kendra from a couple of Steve's favorite positions, and went home around two."<br/>
<br/>
"And was up here bright and early to give us all the business today. Fuck!"<br/>
<br/>
He laughs, and asks if you'd like a couple of spare identities for yourself. You tell him you'll think about it. Then you both relax in the loft with some beers and talk about plans for reorganizing the school's social scene by using Chelsea and Patterson (and whoever you pick) to scramble the hierarchy.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't come to any decisions, and even your intuitions are unsettled, for the possibilities are so wide open that it's hard to think of where to begin. Eventually Caleb gets to his feet with a sigh and says that he'll leave the loft to you and Cindy for the night. So you call her after he's gone and ask her to meet you at the school.<br/>
<br/>
You make a great production of it when you meet her in the parking lot. You lead her to the side door and surprise her by using your new key to let you and her in. She squeals softly when you sweep her into your arms and carry her up the stairs into the loft.<br/>
<br/>
Even now, thirty-six hours after the squad catastrophe, her mood is subdued. But she looks around the loft with glinting eyes, and she allows herself a quick grin of pleasure when you tell her that Patterson has banished Chelsea and her friends from the loft as well as from the center table in the lunchroom. "It's not what you really wanted, I know," you tell her. "But I bet Chelsea is just burning up with fury."<br/>
<br/>
You take things slowly with her, but after an hour of nuzzling and stroking you succeed in talking her out of her clothes, and then, in the most exclusive room in the school, you slide your rock-hard cock into Cindy Vredenburg and spend yourself there.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So, are you and everyone else having fun up there eating with Steve?" Jeremy asks you the next day. It's fifth period, and you're skipping it with him out behind the music wing. "Does the cafeteria shit taste better 'cos you're at his table?"<br/>
<br/>
You knew it was a bad idea to skip with him instead of going to class. But you saw him loping away from Mr. Boykin's classroom as you were approaching, and you also saw the black, resentful look that he shot you over his shoulder as he charged for the doors. So with a deep sigh you followed him outside. You didn't call him, but just dropped your pack at his feet when you caught up to him. "So, what's your beef?" you demanded when he only gave you a sulky look.<br/>
<br/>
Now, five long minutes after the tardy bell has rung, he has told you his beef.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh. "You didn't even like eating at that table with everyone when you were on the team," you remind him. "You were always, like, let's ditch this scene, go eat outside, go eat with Marc and them." <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, I guess I don't gotta suck up to Steve and Gordon any more." There's a subtle emphasis on the second "I" in that sentence. <br/>
<br/>
"I don't either, motherfucker," you inform him. <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" He lifts his chin. "So why don't you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"God damn it, man. You didn't always used to act like my jealous girlfriend before. Why now?" You are real close to telling him that you don't want to be his friend if all he's going to do is bitch and backbite.<br/>
<br/>
He says nothing back, and you say nothing either. The silence is filled by the grumble of traffic on Borman Road, and the far-off shouts of kids on the athletic fields.<br/>
<br/>
After several long minutes of this, Jeremy decides he can't stand the silence, and he grunts. "You say something?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"No. No, okay, I'll say I'm sorry," he mutters. "I just need to work through it," he adds a moment later.<br/>
<br/>
"Work through what? No one died."<br/>
<br/>
He drops his ass onto the grass and braces his forearms across his knees. You slide down the wall to sit next to him.<br/>
<br/>
"It just hurts," he says.<br/>
<br/>
You stifle another sigh. "Yeah, I know I'd hate it if I got cut from the—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm over that," he says. "I don't care about <i>that</i> anymore."<br/>
<br/>
"So what <i>do</i> you care about? I told you you're not losing any friends." <i>Yet,</i> you silently add.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't care about the basketball team," he repeats. "Don't care about it now, didn't care about it then. That's how come I had a hard time on it, couldn't give it my best."<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. <i>Great excuse, fucker,</i> you think. <i>You could'a been a rock star but you just didn't want to.</i><br/>
<br/>
"I only wanted on the team, you know," he says, "because—" He shrugs his bony shoulders. "I thought it would get me an in with the guys. You know." He shrugs again. "They'd have to like me."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that's dumb," you say. "No one likes anyone else 'cos of stuff like that."<br/>
<br/>
"I know that. I figured <i>that</i> out a long time. They only <i>tolerated</i> me, 'cos I'm still such a— Such a fucking <i>geek!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"No you're not. And people weren't just—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes they were. It's obvious, obvious to everyone." He turns a face curdled with disgust at you. "You know what happened to me yesterday? Keith Tilley—" He says the name as though the word tastes like dog shit on his tongue. "He came and found me and told me he felt sorry for me. I mean, how much lower than shit do you gotta be for Tilley to—"<br/>
<br/>
"He was your friend, right?" Even in your ears, your tone sounds very cold.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, a long time ago. That's what I mean about still being a fucking geek. Even Tilley still thinks I am."<br/>
<br/>
"Or he just still likes you and wants to be <i>your</i> friend."<br/>
<br/>
Jeremy hugs himself. "I wanted better friends than that," he mutters. "That's how come I wanted to go out for basketball."<br/>
<br/>
His words are deeply insulting. But you can't help understanding them, and sympathizing with them.</span></div></div>


path: 111211132112222212222221221211221111111111112121411211213243
author_id: seuzz
title: The Bodyguard
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Fuck," you growl. "That was one of the best things about missing school, not having Kelsey around to scowl at me." The rich, snooty Kelsey Blankenship has never looked at you with getting a nasty curl in her lip. It's like she's allergic to you.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shrugs and shuts the door behind him. "So I guess I'm going to be a good guy and help you polish stuff up? The other guys are antsy to get themselves some new identities."<br/>
<br/>
"They figure out a way to get to who they want?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds like it. Bhodi's gonna try setting up a thing tomorrow with that soccer player for Andy. They think that if they can get to him they can get to that wrestler Orr's got the hots for, and after that they can get to anyone they want."<br/>
<br/>
You say nothing, but you can't help wondering if the guys are underestimating how hard it might be.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Caleb helps you all evening, and the next day (with nothing else to do) you work some more. By the time it's ready for to school let out you have polished up all the masks and have runes carved into a majority of the brain bands. You also have half a dozen containers of golem paint, one for each of the people (Justin, Joe, Grant, Andy, Mrs. Matthias, and yourself) who will need it.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb has brought Bhodi and Andy with him when he stops by at a little after four-thirty. The two sophomores are very quiet, and stare at the masks with a grave anxiety that is easy to read on their faces. "So, you ready for this thing?" you ask them. "When's it happening? This afternoon?"<br/>
<br/>
Bhodi licks his lips. "Yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"You gonna need any help?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb answers for them. "From who?"<br/>
<br/>
"From us," you reply. You've been through enough with these guys—earning their trust, helping them with masks, loaning them your brain, helping them outwrestle and outwit a dangerous drug dealer—that you hate to think of them screwing things up at this late moment.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb snorts, but Bhodi looks grateful. "Justin'll be there to help," he says. "But if you want to supervise—"<br/>
<br/>
"I want an excuse to get out of this place. I'm going stir crazy. So, checklist," you snap your fingers at Caleb, and ignore the jaundiced glance he shoots you. "Make sure we have everything we need ..."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're happy with the supplies you brought, but you're not at all happy with the location that the guys have chosen to make their ambush: the athletic fields next to South Creek Park. That complex of soccer/football fields, batting cages, and spectator bleachers is wide open from every direction; and though it is currently deserted, anybody might drive into the parking lot at any moment.<br/>
<br/>
In fact, here comes someone now! Sweeping along on a mountain bike!<br/>
<br/>
You let out your breath when you see that it's Andrew Webb, but you don't relax. The position is still exposed.<br/>
<br/>
You and Caleb are scrunching in the front seat of his car, while Bhodi, Andy, and Justin are standing out in the middle of one of the soccer fields. The other four insisted that you and Caleb hide out for the moment: Bhodi had challenged Andrew to come out to the Clevenger Athletic Fields for a "soccer duel" to settle the differences between them, and your presence and Caleb's would look weirder than Justin and Andy's. But you're tense all over as Andrew—looking pink and healthy and assholish in his buzz cut, his shorts, and his sleeveless tank top—struts out with a raised chin to meet Bhodi and the others. "That's one confident motherfucker," Caleb mutters. You silently agree, for you now more vividly remember the fight you had with him when you were playing Bhodi for a day.<br/>
<br/>
The other three surround him, but he pays no attention to Andy or Justin but sticks his face into Bhodi's. Even at this distance you can see the glares they give each other. Bhodi puts his hands on his hips (as do Justin and Andy) but Andrew keeps his arms loose at the side; and when he raises a hand you half expect him to pop Bhodi in the gut, but he only lays a finger on the other's chest. Bhodi shows his teeth, and you catch your breath as Justin grabs Andrew by the shoulders and Andy springs at him with an upraised palm. <br/>
<br/>
It's over in that moment: Andrew's legs buckle and he sinks to the grass, taking Justin with him. The other two squat down next to him; Bhodi's head pops up and he looks at you.<br/>
<br/>
You're already out of the car, though, and sprinting fast toward them. "How was that?" Bhodi yells at you.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb (several paces behind you) answers: "That was the brain band you used? Sweet and smooth!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, pretty good," you agree, but wheel to survey the horizon. There's no pedestrians or other observers on foot, and traffic on the nearby boulevard hasn't slowed. Still, that doesn't mean someone won't come along and notice an unconscious high schooler. "Make a circle around him," you order. "Block him off from view."<br/>
<br/>
"Then get down here yourself!" Caleb snaps, and he hauls you into a squat with the others. "Relax. You're the one who's gonna get noticed if you don't stop freaking out."<br/>
<br/>
You make a face, but acquiesce. "Andy, is your mask ready?" you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
He nods. "And I copied myself into that brain thing on the ride over." He fumbles at his shirt pocket.<br/>
<br/>
"The golem paint?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dang," Andy mutters. "Um, it's back in the car."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll get it," Justin says, and he jogs off.<br/>
<br/>
"You're making them nervous, Will," Caleb says.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't mean to." You pat the pale-faced Andy on the arm. "You're doing fine. It's a great thing you're doing for Bhodi. Taking the spot of this asshole, I mean." You nudge the unconscious Andrew.<br/>
<br/>
Andy's eyes fall. An awkward silence envelops the group.<br/>
<br/>
Then Bhodi speaks. "It's a, uh, really great thing <i>you're</i> doing," he says. "Helping us out."<br/>
<br/>
You look up at him with wide eyes. He sounds sincere, and his eyes are sincere when they meet yours.<br/>
<br/>
You drop your own gaze. "Well, thanks. Nice of you to say so, considering that I, uh—" You feel yourself blushing.<br/>
<br/>
"You're making it up to us," Andy says. He seems to regret the words as soon as they're out, and hangs his head.<br/>
<br/>
You clasp your arms around your knees, and for a lack of anything less mortifying to look at, you stare down at Andrew Webb. <i>God, even knocked out he looks like an asshole,</i> you think. The fine blonde hair trimmed down to a glittering buzz cut; the too-pink skin, like that of a lightly boiled lobster; the shorts and the wife-beater; and even unconscious, his soft lips curve into a light smirk under an insolent snub nose. You knew guys like that in middle school—<br/>
<br/>
"If you want to make things up to Evie," Bhodi says, interrupting your reminiscence, but then falls silent as Justin returns with a plastic tub. He squats next to Andy, and together they work to pluck some out some of Bhodi's hair and burn it inside Bhodi's mask after they've painted its interior.<br/>
<br/>
"You were saying something," you tell Bhodi.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing."<br/>
<br/>
"Something about Evie. I want to keep making things up for you guys, and she's— Well, she got it worse than anyone."<br/>
<br/>
Bhodi dips his head, and his lank bangs fall into his face.<br/>
<br/>
"I was in a car with her for, like, seventy hours," you continue, "but we didn't talk that much. I'd still like to get square with her."<br/>
<br/>
Bhodi brushes his hair back. "Well, there's people you could help her out with. Like Andy's doing with me."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb speaks before you can: "I thought Joe was helping her out there."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, yeah. But there's others."<br/>
<br/>
"Who others?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"On the JV squad." He looks up. "Caleb says that you're, uh, looking for a new, um, person to be?"<br/>
<br/>
You feel your face tighten. "I'd kind of like to stay in the senior class," you murmur. Bhodi nods, and his shoulders sag.<br/>
<br/>
"Thing's coming out of him," Justin says, and he lifts the metal band off Andrew's forehead. "Mask?" Andy hands him a mask; it vanishes as Justin sets it on Andrew's face.<br/>
<br/>
"Are there any seniors who could help Evie out?" you ask. "Anyone on the varsity soccer squad?"<br/>
<br/>
Bhodi sucks on his lower lip and says nothing for a very long time. "Hannah Westrick," he finally says. "Evie says that <i>she's</i> the one who's really got it in for her."<br/>
<br/>
"That girl Gabriela," Andy says. "The one that looks like a gang member."<br/>
<br/>
You hadn't thought about choosing a female identity, but you keep your mouth shut.<br/>
<br/>
"Hannah Westrick," Caleb says. "Isn't that the girl that Garner's dating?" He nudges you. "I bet <i>he</i> could talk his girlfriend into going easy on Evie."<br/>
<br/>
"Anyone else?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Austin Dougherty's supposed to be, like, keeping an eye on us for the varsity squad," Bhodi says. "He could maybe say something."<br/>
<br/>
"There's the mask," Justin says. You look down. Indeed, the mask has reappeared on Andrew's face. Gingerly, Justin picks it up, examines it, then holds it out to Andy, who takes it as though it is burning to the touch.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb nudges you and stands. "Come on," he says. "We're done here."</span></div></div>


