# chapters

path: 113122111355313111212111151151111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Next Phase
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Monday starts as a normal day. Or at least it's normal for Kim Walsh, which means it's a succession of minor crises. Like Molly Shaw needing some advice on how to handle her supervisor at work, and Robert Vargas wanting to know how the fuck come he can't join the Dinner Club, because there's this girl he's totally hot for in there and he wants to do something extracurricular with her.<br/>
<br/>
Something a little harder to manage comes along in second period, when you take a break from your Spanish study hall to use the restroom. <br/>
<br/>
(Not that you needed to use the restroom. But Steve Patterson—or rather, the duplicate of him, who is doing <i>far too good a job</i> sometimes of replicating the original's personality—is being very tiresome. All he wants to practice, in Spanish, is his account of the morning's pre-class basketball practice, and all the ways that the guys have invented to disappoint him. He feels special ire for Jeremy Richards, who shouldn't even be on the squad. Usually you wouldn't mind listening to Patterson bitch about Richards: Jeremy was a friend of yours back in middle school, before he had a growth spurt and decided to become a jock and a jerk, only one metamorphosis being completely successful. But Patterson is so mean about it, to the point of mocking Richards for nearly bursting into tears, that you had to take a break from him.)<br/>
<br/>
After you are locked in a stall and trying to relax your bladder, you hear stifled sniffling and weak cries from a few stalls down. After peeing and washing your hands, you open the door and let it fall back while standing silently in place inside the restroom. Almost immediately after, the other locked stall door opens and Meghan Farris comes out. She jumps when she sees you. Her eyes are red and puffy behind her glasses. You can guess what it's about.<br/>
<br/>
Meghan is a small girl, about Kim's size, with dark hair that falls to the tops of her shoulders. She's a pretty girl, a sweet-tempered girl, a girl who has got friends and is popular with those friends. The trouble is, she wants more. And at Westside, that's like being a mouse that wants to play pro football.<br/>
<br/>
You have no idea what the talent is that Chelsea Cooper, or Kelsey Blankenship, or Cindy Vredenburg, or any of the other "popular" girls, have. Even girls like Eva Garner, who is fairly shy and tends to hide herself, manage to "pop" on the social scene. But Meghan Farris hasn't got it, and the harder she tries to make herself look like an alpha, the smaller and mousier she looks.<br/>
<br/>
Just two weeks ago she tried throwing a huge party, inviting all the popular kids and all the kids who like to hang around the popular kids. It was going to have all kinds of food and music, and it was going to be one of the big events of the year. But only a couple of the big guys she invited showed up (and it was guys who came, apparently because they expected a lot more of the popular girls to be there), and that turned the party into a huge disappointment for all the other people who showed up. It was like being invited to a major Hollywood premiere, and having no celebrities attend.<br/>
<br/>
Well, that was two weeks ago. So why is Meghan quietly weeping in the restroom now? Probably because someone put up a mean post on x2z this morning. It wasn't even about Meghan's party, directly. It was just a reply that someone made to another post about Sophia Van den Berg's big upcoming Halloween party, and whether it was going to be any good. To which some cunt or other said that it'd be fine so long as it was better than the lame party that Meghan had thrown.<br/>
<br/>
Anyway, you and Meghan lock eyes for about five seconds. And then you walk over to put your arms around her and squeeze her close. She bursts again into tears, and puts her face into the crook of your neck.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Monday brings third-period study hall with Victoria Rodriguez again. Just like last Monday, you can tell she is dying to ask you about Kim and Steve, because she's a busybody who can't leave anything alone, but by playing it very straight and cool you again bluff her into keeping her speculations to herself. But it's right before lunch that the big crisis of the day hits. <br/>
<br/>
You're just getting into the cafeteria line when you phone rings. This is pretty rare, so are wary as you take it out, and you're not really relieved when you see that it's Jack calling.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," he says, "can you get someplace you can talk without anyone overhearing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, I think so. Hang on." You leave the line for a corner on the opposite side of the corridor. "What's up?"<br/>
<br/>
"I wanted to call and talk direct instead of DMing. Faster this way. It's about the squad."<br/>
<br/>
"What about it?" <i>And why aren't you calling Number One?</i> you silently add.<br/>
<br/>
It's like he's read your mind, because he says, "I wanted to let you know before I said anything to Number One, but the other girls on the squad, they're trying to mount a coup against her."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Tell me something I don't already know,</i> you think with some small irritation. Cindy Vredenburg and her friends have been trying to knock Chelsea off her perch since before school started. But— "What's the story?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hang on, I'm getting my math homework out so it'll look like I'm reading the answers to someone. Anyway, Yumi Saito skipped class last period to talk to me. News of my joining the squad has leaked out, and she heard about it. She wants my help if there's a vote to take the captain's title away from Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"They'd need seven votes for that."<br/>
<br/>
"They've got them, if I help. Yumi says Kendra is working with them, and that gives them seven if I join. In fact, it was Kendra who told Yumi about how I'd be replacing Michelle on the squad."<br/>
<br/>
Part of you thinks <i>Shit!</i> while another part thinks <i>Interesting!</i> "Who would be the new captain?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kendra. That's the price of getting her support."<br/>
<br/>
"Hmm. I'll have to think about this. Thanks for the heads up."<br/>
<br/>
"Do you want me to tell Number One?"<br/>
<br/>
You hesitate. "I'll tell her. What did you tell Yumi?"<br/>
<br/>
"I told her I'm not on the squad yet, and that I don't like drama. Because I asked myself 'What would Jack Li do?' and that's the answer I got back."<br/>
<br/>
"That's the right thing. Keep me posted on your after-school plans, in case I need to talk to you."<br/>
<br/>
"You're the boss."<br/>
<br/>
You close the line. <br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You zone out after school while doing work—by now this is so normal that you don't even blink when you resurface at five o'clock to find your Speech and Student Congress work done without any strong memory of doing it. But you've got that also-familiar sense of urgency pricking in the back of your head. You've decided something. Now what is it?<br/>
<br/>
You glance down at a scrap of paper you were making notes on, and see five names: Meghan Farris, Victoria Rodriguez, Yumi Saito, Keith Tilley, Jeremy Richards.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh yes!</i> Now you realize what you've decided.<br/>
<br/>
It would be out of character for Kim Walsh to approach any potential partners in your scheme to infiltrate and control the Westside student body with duplicates. Kim is scarcely believable as that kind of puppetmaster: she is simply too generous and kind-hearted. If you approached anyone as Kim, it would have to be by revealing yourself beneath, showing that Kim is a fake. And that feels like a bad idea. It would be much better and safer if you approached potential partners from under the face of one of the duplicates, pretending (at least initially) that you <i>are</i> that person, with an offer of partnership.<br/>
<br/>
You glance over those names again.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, as Chelsea you could surely tempt Meghan and Victoria with prospects of social control and power. Kelsey could tempt them too, and could tempt Yumi as well. As Kirkham you could probably bully Keith into partnering with you; Steve could bully Keith as well, or seduce Jeremy with certain promises.<br/>
<br/>
But are these the only five you could partner with? There have got to be more. And if you've been thinking this through subconsciously, you would only have been using Kim's brain and your own. The others—especially Jack Li, who you purposefully duplicated because of his wide social contacts—could give you other leads, if you got inside their masks and the instinct and memories they contain.<br/>
<br/>
One thought will follow on another, and as you pack up your things, you think of a variation on the last thought. Why not let each of your doppelgangers recruit one partner—a partner for <i>him or her.</i> Tell the recruit that you—in the guise of that doppelganger—are the real deal, and make a one-on-one partnership. Don't tell that partner about the <i>other</i> partners you've recruited. Keep every one of your partners separated and ignorant of the others. That way they don't gang up on you.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, the more you think about it, the more you like that idea. Switch to the face of one of your other duplicates ... think through who you could partner with and manipulate from under that face while pretending to be that person ... recruit <i>one</i> partner ... help them set up a group of six or so duplicates they can control ... then move to another face and recruit another partner ...<br/>
<br/>
Yes, that's what you'll do. At least, for a start.<br/>
<br/>
But which doppelganger mask do you put yourself under first?<span class="O"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511111
author_id: seuzz
title: Dropping the Masks
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span><i>Chelsea,</i> you decide. Except the decision is so quick and intuitive that it almost isn't a decision. It's more like instinct.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yes, Chelsea.</i> Not only does she have her fingertip on the pulse of the school, she's got exactly the kind of scheming brain that you want to manipulate a junior partner. <i>I could get the experience I need from her, then use it when I shift into Kelsey or David or whoever later on.</i><br/>
<br/>
Also, she's got breasts and legs and that glorious mane of golden hair.<br/>
<br/>
<i>We need to meet tonite,</i> you text Number One. <i>Your house ok if no one else there.</i> She texts back <i>Great looking frwrd to it!</i> followed by a thumb's up and a string of smiley-face emojis.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Well, hello there, Kim!" Mrs. Cooper exclaims as she lets you in the front door. "Are you going to start being a regular out here?" She laughs.<br/>
<br/>
You give her one of your shyest smiles. "Maybe, Mrs. Cooper!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I do hope so! Maybe we'll have you over for dinner some night?" She laughs again.<br/>
<br/>
Before you can answer, there's a thunder of footsteps on the nearby staircase, and Chelsea appears. "Mom!" she barks.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, here's the boss lady," her mother says, and her voice tightens a little. "You girls going to be at it long? You can have the dining room, if you need the room to study."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, we're not studying," you tell her. "I just need to talk to Chelsea about some school things. Er." You glance between the beaming Mrs. Cooper and her glowering daughter. "I'll put my head in and say goodbye before I go."<br/>
<br/>
"You do that." Mrs. Cooper wags a playful finger at you. "I won't let you back in next time if you don't!"<br/>
<br/>
You give her a bright, beaming smile, then turn to follow Chelsea upstairs. You can't help wondering what Chelsea's relationship with her mother is like. Mrs. Cooper, like her daughter, is short but strongly built, with a prodigious bosom and loose cascades of blonde hair. <i>She was probably a cheerleader back in her day,</i> you think, then reflect that you'll soon know all (and more) about Chelsea and her family that you could care to know.<br/>
<br/>
"Did you have any trouble keeping Gordon away?" you ask Number One in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
"No." She leads you around a corner and down a short corridor to her bedroom. "We're hardly talking these days."<br/>
<br/>
<i>That could be a problem,</i> you reflect. <i>Maybe I should start a to-do list.</i><br/>
<br/>
Number One closes the bedroom door behind you, then turns a mildly quizzical face upon you. Her expression is empty, but her complexion is clear, bright, and glowing. <i>Like sunlight filtering through a peach grove,</i> you find yourself thinking.<br/>
<br/>
"We need to reorganize the team." You point to her face. "I'm changing places with you."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay." She sounds puzzled.<br/>
<br/>
You can't help feeling nervous as you glance around. You'll have disrobe, down to Kim's naked skin and beneath even that, and it would never do if Mrs. Cooper decided to bring up lemonade or hot chocolate for fresh brownies while you were in the midst of it all. "I'll start in the bathroom," you tell Number One. "Get rid of your mom if she happens to knock."<br/>
<br/>
You expect her reply with a <i>Gladly</i> or a <i>Happy to</i> or even a <i>Ptah! Yeah!</i> Instead, Number One only nods and says, "Done and done, boss."<br/>
<br/>
There's no time for pleasure once you're in the bathroom, but quickly peel off the t-shirt, sweatpants, socks and flip-flops that you'd changed into before coming. And you're still businesslike even as you unhook the bra and slide off the panties. That "fog" is coming over you again: the sense that someone else is willing you to perform. Your mind fades to a near blank after you are standing, slender and pale as a sapling, in Chelsea's bathroom, staring at your reflection in her vanity mirror, and your actions are automatic even as you lift and fondle your breasts with both hands, to touch and tap at your nipples. Your lips part as though to speak, but nothing comes out save a quiet gasp and gurgle. How long you stand this way, petrified, staring into the infinite distance behind the face in the mirror, you are not sure. But the world has faded to a featureless gray even before you feel yourself settle onto the bath mat and stretch out. Your hands are numb even as they grasp at your face ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You wake with a panic and bolt upright. Your heart is pounding and your breath is blowing in and out like a steam engine. <i>Jesus!</i> you think as you gently pat at your throbbing temple. <i>What the holy fuck was that?</i><br/>
<br/>
You know who you are and where you are, and how you came to be here and what you're doing, and you are assailed by the urgent sense that you need to put on Chelsea Cooper's mask and clothes and send the Kim Walsh doppelganger home. But you are trembling all over, and your limbs feel weak. All you can wonder (over and over) is <i>What the fuck was that?</i><br/>
<br/>
"That" of course was the weirdly robotic way you were acting as Kim, and you glance around uneasily, half afraid that the someone whose presence you felt will throw off a cloak of invisibility and step out in front of you. <i>I was myself,</i> you explain to yourself as best you can. <i>At least, I was being Kim. And then it's like I was ... someone's puppet.</i> It gives you a queasy tummy.<br/>
<br/>
But you force yourself onto your feet, even though your knees tremble, and squint at your reflection. <i>Oh God, it's me again,</i> you glumly think. A shock of straw-like hair that looks like it's been chopped at with a Bowie knife; rabbity eyes that dart about under thick eyebrows; gigantic teeth that show when your lips spread out in a nervous grin. Bony shoulders and chest. <i>It was so much nicer when it was—</i><br/>
<br/>
Whoa! Your cock rockets to attention and your ballsack tightens when you remember Kim's naked reflection. Sure, Kim is far from the hottest girl in school. But she's got boobs, and soft skin, and a pretty face, and beguiling eyes, and as you fondled her (your!) breasts and nipples, you were—<br/>
<br/>
<i>I was what?</i><br/>
<br/>
You frown. You still remember that gray and foggy sense of dislocation, of being a body manipulated from somewhere outside your own mind. But now you are on fire with a quite different memory: <i>Dude, I was totally gonna finger-bang myself, except I knew I had to keep moving!</i> You shut your eyes and chomp hard on your lower lip as you remember the your breasts and nipples prickling hard under your trembling fingertips, and the way your back bent like a bow drawn taut as you said goodbye to Kim Walsh's body.<br/>
<br/>
A hard shiver runs though you, and you grab the edge of the vanity. <i>Oh, these fucking masks!</i> You thought they gave you someone else's memories. So how come you got <i>a new set of memories</i> when you took off Kim's? <i>I don't understand these things or how they work,</i> you think, and for a moment you are very frightened.<br/>
<br/>
It's the sound of movement in the outer room that recalls you to your situation and your plans, and the recognition that there's nothing to do but press on with them. You are cheered, though, when you remember that it's Chelsea Cooper's body you will next be pouring yourself into.<br/>
<br/>
You put an ear to the door, then pull it partway open. Chelsea is perched on her bed, tapping at her phone with her thumb, and she looks up and over it when she hears the door. For a moment she stares. <br/>
<br/>
Then her face lights up, and she bounces onto her feet. "Boss!" she squeals.<br/>
<br/>
"Shhh!" You wave a frantic hand. "Keep it down! Get your clothes off! All of them!"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea kicks off her shoes with a giggle. "Happy to, boss," she gurgles. "But you know, we can't do it in here. Chelsea's mom and dad— And her brother—"<br/>
<br/>
"Just get your clothes off!" you hiss, not bothering to wonder what she's chattering about. "Is your door locked?"<br/>
<br/>
"You bet!" With a glee that is almost grotesque, Chelsea tears off her pink sweatshirt and wriggles out of her flannel pajama bottoms. "I never thought we were going to do <i>this,</i> even when you said we wanted some privacy!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's good." You almost choke on your own tongue as Chelsea unhooks her bra, and her fat, bouncy boobs pop out.<br/>
<br/>
Her shining eyes are locked on you, even as she bends to pull off her panties, but they drift down to your crotch. She titters. "Golly, I could put my eye out if I tripped and fell onto that thing!"<br/>
<br/>
You blush, but it's pointless to fight your gasping erection.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, get on the bed," you order as you hobble over to her. "Lay down. You need to hold still because—"<br/>
<br/>
You gasp as she throws her arms around your neck and beams into your face.<br/>
<br/>
"Mmmm," she groans from somewhere down near her diaphragm. "I kept meaning to thank you for leaving me that other one to play with, but I never got a chance because you always wanted to talk business. But I like this better."<br/>
<br/>
"Better?" you squeak.<br/>
<br/>
"Mm-hmm. Number Six, or whatever he is, he's okay. Adorable even. But <i>you—!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
She sucks in a sharp gasp, and a light like fireworks explodes into her eyes. Then she's pulling you down, and her mouth is covering yours, and she's forcing herself past your lips. Before you know it, she is trying to suck your tongue out by its roots.<span class="ddllorcSOP"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111111
author_id: seuzz
title: Who's Number One?
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>It's a kiss Chelsea gives you: tigerish, alive with a fury of desire. Her tongue is hot as a coal as she explores the inside of your mouth. For a very long moment you are too thunderstruck to react.<br/>
<br/>
Then you come alive yourself, and kiss her back.<br/>
<br/>
It doesn't last long, though. You're too self-conscious—and too surprised still—to keep it up, and with a sound like tearing burlap you rip your lips from hers. She growls at you and grins, and snaps hard teeth at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea!" you squeak. "Number One!"<br/>
<br/>
Her arms fall from your neck. "Yes, boss," she sighs.<br/>
<br/>
<i>What the fuck?</i> you want to yell, but you're shaking too hard, and barely have the coherence to form the thought, let alone the words. You straighten up, and find that in the shock of her attack, you have lost most of your erection. Your own eyes seem to be bulging from their sockets, but Chelsea's lids have drooped half shut, and from behind them she is studying you and waiting with that same languid curiosity she showed when you first stepped into the bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, just hold still," you stammer at her. "I need to— Well, just hold still!" You lay a hand across her brow, gripping her firmly by the temples, then pause. You are half expecting her to protest, but she remains limp. Then you have to reorder your own mind before you can recall the magic syllables that will remove the mask. Even then, your hand slips three times before the mask comes away in your grasp.<br/>
<br/>
But it's still Chelsea there, naked in all her golden-skinned glory, on the bed. Her eyes are closed, and she breathes deeply as you lay the mask beside her. <i>Got to get this finished,</i> you think even as lustful thoughts well up inside you again. Aside from having to finish before her mom or someone else comes up and knocks, you have to get the other mask onto her before she wakes up. Because the girl lying on the bed isn't "Number One." She is the real Chelsea Cooper, and she will straight up murder you if she ever wakes up again.<br/>
<br/>
You skip awkwardly back into the bathroom, to scoop up Kim's clothes and mask. Your heart is beating hard again as you lay the latter onto Chelsea's face.<br/>
<br/>
It vanishes, falling through Chelsea's face like a stone slipping quietly under the surface of a pond, and then it isn't Chelsea's face anymore, but Kim's. It's also Kim's slimmer, more boyish body. Her eyes click open, and her gaze focuses on you as you straighten up from over her.<br/>
<br/>
She sits up, and looks around with an alert look. You lick your lips. "Er ... Number Two?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just checking. Um, get dressed."<br/>
<br/>
With robotic efficiency, Number Two picks up Kim's clothes and starts to dress. Her expression is calm and her voice toneless as she asks, "Is there a change in our plans?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just a reorganization," you stammer, for you are still rattled from earlier. "Er, you're still, um, Number Two. But I'm still boss."<br/>
<br/>
Number Two nods as she expertly hooks her bra together and twists it around to tuck herself into it. "What happens to Number Six?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Number Six?</i> you wonder in your confusion. <i>Who is—? Oh!</i> "Uh, he stays where he is?" You feel yourself blushing to your roots. "I'm, er, I'm going to become Number One." A look of faint puzzlement shows on the doppelganger's face. "You'll see," you assure her. <i>I hope.</i> You didn't think you'd have to explain things to the girl you were imitating when you came up with the plan.<br/>
<br/>
"Just wait in here while I change in the bathroom," you continue as you scoop up Chelsea's clothes and mask. "If Mrs. Cooper comes up, tell her that, uh, Chelsea is in the bathroom."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, boss." Number Two's gaze is distant but blank as she pulls on her sweatpants.<br/>
<br/>
In the bathroom you rest a moment on the toilet, trying to recover your wits and calm your nerves. <i>Why is this so hard?</i> you wonder. All you have to do is switch from one mask and set of clothes to another. <i>Well, maybe that's it,</i> you speculate with a sigh. You turn Chelsea's mask over to study the glowing name that floats over its inner surface. <i>I'm tearing myself out of one body and putting myself in another. No wonder I feel as naked as a— a—</i> The phrase "naked as a skinned caterpillar" doesn't actually occur to you, but it's a good description for how small, soft, raw, and vulnerable you feel.<br/>
<br/>
With a sigh you drop back onto the bathmat and lay on the floor with your knees in the air. <i>Well,</i> you assure yourself as you balance the mask over your face, <i>if that's the problem, the sooner I get into Chelsea's mask, the sooner I'll be over it.</i><br/>
<br/>
You draw a deep breath and try to keep your eyes focused on the burning letters as you lower the mask slowly to your face. Your eyes roll shut as it sinks into the front of your skull ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your eyes roll open, and you feel tense and alert all over when you wake. For a second or two you stare at the ceiling, recalling yourself and your position. <i>Oh, right,</i> you think as the world organizes itself around you.<br/>
<br/>
Then, as you sit up, you freeze. <i>Oh. Right!</i> you think with a wicked grin.<br/>
<br/>
You lever yourself easily to your feet and turn to the mirror. Chelsea Cooper gazes back with a pert, mischievous light in her eye.<br/>
<br/>
For only a few short moments do you let your gaze rove hungrily over her face and hair, her neck and bosom, her curved torso and the shallow scoop of her bellybutton. Then you lift your arms and run gentle fingertips over them; you shiver pleasurably as you touch yourself. <i>I am Chelsea Cooper,</i> you think. <i>The boss got rid of the original girl, and gave her face and body and memories and everything else to me!</i> You suppress a gurgling shriek. <i>Lucky me! I get to be Chelsea Cooper!</i><br/>
<br/>
Just the smallest shadow of doubt crosses your mind, though, as you think of "the boss," and you glance around with a sense of mystification. <i>He was here a minute ago, with our clothes off. And—Mmm!—for a minute I thought we were going to do it on Chelsea's bed. But now he's— He's—</i><br/>
<br/>
You shut your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. There's a thought trying to form. Just on the edge of consciousness. With a little coaxing, you can grasp it. <i>The boss and me. He was here, and he brought me into the bathroom. No, wait. He came into the bathroom. But now I'm here and—</i><br/>
<br/>
"Ohhhh!" You groan as you lift your face back to the mirror. Your eyes are wide with memory and realization. You stare at your face with something like shock. Then:<br/>
<br/>
<i>I'm the boss!</i> you silently squeal. <i>The masks! I switched into Chelsea's mask! And now I'm—! And the boss is—!</i><br/>
<br/>
You grasp the edgy of the vanity and hike yourself onto the corner, pressing your pussy onto it as it fires to life as though touched by a hot coal. <i>Oh my God!</i> you gurgle in the back of your throat. <i>I'm inside Chelsea Cooper! And the boss is inside me!</i> You almost swoon as the mind and memories of Number Two twine themselves around and inside your own. <i>And she—! Chelsea—! Number Two—!</i> You grind yourself onto the vanity corner as the blood pulses hungrily there. <br/>
<br/>
<i>She's fucking Number Six, up in the loft, every day, every night, every chance she gets!</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You have to wet a washcloth and give yourself a cooling douche in order to calm yourself. <i>Me and Will. Will and me.</i> You can hardly believe it. <i>Me and my little scruffmonster!</i><br/>
<br/>
That's what she calls Number Six, what she called him even before you had given him that number, when it was just her and him, meeting behind your back and Gordon's back and all the other doppelgangers' backs for hot, back-breaking sex. From the moment you put Number One in for Chelsea, in fact. That very first night, when you trapped her inside a mask. You had kissed her then, but you had forgotten about it. Same as you had forgotten how you surprised Number One and Number Six out in the bedroom when you emerged from this same bathroom after first putting on Kim's mask. But they hadn't forgotten, and from that night on, any time they could manage it, they had gotten together. To kiss and pet and ruffle each other's hair, and to pull their pants off or down and impale themselves upon each other. <i>Who's my little scruffmonster?</i> Number One liked to coo at him while snuffling her nose in his hair before and after an explosive performance. <i>My own little scruffmonster!</i> The memories leave you feeling hot and foamy.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Well, that's something to worry about later,</i> you tell yourself as you drop from the vanity and back onto your feet. <i>Like, tonight,</i> you add with a giggle, <i>after I'm in bed and under the covers.</i> With another titter, you sniff your fingertips, then lick them with the tip of your tongue. <i>Like every night since the boss added me to the team!<br/>
<br/>
But I'm the boss now,</i> you remind yourself. <i>And I've got to get rid of Kim. Number Two, I mean.</i> With a sigh of resolution, you twitch your panties off the floor and start to get dressed.<span class="ddllorcSOP"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122111355313111212111151151111111
author_id: seuzz
title: Best-Laid Plans, If You Do Say So Yourself
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>Number Two is dressed and sitting patiently on the edge of your bed when you emerge from the bathroom some few minutes later. She is studying her phone, but looks up with an alert expression. "Any problems out here?" you ask. "Chelsea's mom?"<br/>
<br/>
"All quiet, boss."<br/>
<br/>
The salutation surprises you a little. "You knew it was me?" Number Two nods. "Oh, because it couldn't be anyone else. Right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess." Then Number Two slowly adds, "But it's also a feeling I've got."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh. Well, I'll need you to message everyone else tonight, telling them I'm boss now, and they need to follow my orders."<br/>
<br/>
"You're the boss," says Number Two. "Anything else?"<br/>
<br/>
You pluck thoughtfully at the front of your sweatshirt. <i>Weren't you—or somebody—thinking about making a "to-do list"?</i> "I'll DM you tonight if I think of anything. For now, I think—" You glance at the desk. "Yeah, there's some homework I need to finish up."<br/>
<br/>
Number Two picks up her purse, and you tuck your arm into hers as you lead her out the bedroom. "We need to see Kim now," you murmur as you go down the stairs in lock step.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll let you know if I hear anything, Chelsea," Number Two says in a more animated voice as you emerge into the foyer. "And please call me if you need anything else." She turns eyes that are warm and liquid with friendship upon you.<br/>
<br/>
"I will, Kim," you reply. "And thanks so much." You give her a quick, firm hug. "You know, you are the <i>best</i> student council president we could ever have had!" <i>Which didn't stop me,</i> you privately add, <i>from trying to sandbag you in the vote at the end of our junior year.</i><br/>
<br/>
"I told your mom I'd say bye to her."  Number Two looks around with a vague expression.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll tell her bye for you." You gently push her toward the front door. "I don't want to keep you."<br/>
<br/>
So Kim is gone and you're turning toward the stairs again when Mrs. Cooper appears. "Was that Kim leaving?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, Mom," you sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"You girls get your business taken care of?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ye-es!"<br/>
<br/>
"Can I ask what it was about?"<br/>
<br/>
You give her look. <i>Why is she always trying to run your business for you? It's been, like, two hundred years since </i>she was a cheerleader in high school. "It's just some school stuff, Mom."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, if there's anything I can help you out with, honey—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't need your help with anything, Mom. I don't need Kim's help either, I'm helping <i>her</i> out!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you don't have to jump down my throat about it, Chelsea!"<br/>
<br/>
You head up the stairs with a snort. <i>Except I do. It's the only way you'll ever learn to leave me the fuck alone!</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Did you say you needed a to-do list? Chelsea <i>has</i> a to-do list, except she keeps it in her head. Except it isn't even a "to do list." It's more like a seven-step plan with interlocking parts, updated day by day as events warrant.<br/>
<br/>
There was, for instance, the whole East-West Club fiasco over the weekend that had to be cleaned up. It was a freshman girl, Erin Richardson, who made the offending banner. You—Chelsea Cooper, that is—don't give a fig about freshman girls, but that means they are so far beneath your notice = you don't see any reason <i>not</i> to be nice to them. So you—or Number One, who as a doppelganger was handling things at that point—made a great show at the emergency meeting of the Westside branch of absolving Erin of any real blame, and insisted that the Westside branch <i>as a whole</i> should shoulder responsibility and make an extravagant apology to the Eastman branch. <i>We'll hold a car wash over at Eastman,</i> you suggested, <i>and donate all the proceeds to the Eastman branch. Of course,</i> you added, <i>only those who look good in bikinis or without their shirts on—</i><br/>
<br/>
Here Number One had shot a liverish glance at Eric Harlen, whose chest is so cadaverous you can count his ribs without needing to feel for them.<br/>
<br/>
<i>—will participate. Everyone else can just make a proportionate donation out of their own wallet.</i><br/>
<br/>
Of course, it wasn't out if the goodness of Chelsea's heart that this offer got made. Poor Erin was so pathetically grateful she swore she'd never be done repaying the favor, so now you've got a nice little spy down in the freshman class, in case you ever need anything done down there. Even better, in a private, seniors-only meeting of the Club you rounded hard on Kelly Rinaldi and shrilly put the blame all on her. <i>I thought you were supposed to be babysitting the dumb freshmen!</i> you remember shrieking, <i>to keep them from fucking anything up! Now look how fucked we are!</i> Kelly wildly protested that she had never made any promises about "babysitting" the freshmen, but— <i>You're not going to weasel out of this, Kelly!</i> you snarled. <i>Did you do it on purpose? Did Anita get you to put Erin up to it?</i><br/>
<br/>
So you—or Number One—managed to work up a feud with Anita Nuevo and her crew of soccer hooligans (one of whom is Kelly), and based on that burgeoning feud put Gloria and Kendra to work spreading the rumor that the escapade had been cooked up by Anita and her friends in order to embarrass Hannah Westrick, a girl from Eastman who moved to Westside this year and joined the soccer team, and who is herself feuding with Anita. And <i>that</i> little chess move (prepping the ground for an alliance-of-convenience with Hannah) fits in nicely with another one of Chelsea's long-term projects, which was to get herself in good with Marc Garner, the captain of the Westside boys' soccer team, who is Hannah's boy toy. Marc is one of the really genuinely popular guys at Westside, and Chelsea always thought that having him in her pocket would be a real coup, especially as he can bring along some really influential friends of his own. And, as the brother of Jessica and Eva Garner, his friendship could mess with the heads of two of the girls on the cheerleading squad who like to get hair-pulling contests with Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
Beyond that, you definitely need to cover your flank on the cheerleading squad, because your plan to bring in Number Seven has opened you up to a counterstrike by Cindy Vredenburg. It wouldn't be good for Number Seven to alienate Cindy and her friends by taking your side in any votes—in fact, it would be best if he wasn't taking <i>any</i> sides, since you want him to be popular with everyone on the squad. So if you could make it look like Marc asked Jack not to make trouble on the squad ... Well, then Cindy and them would have to blame Marc, and that wouldn't be good for her friendship with Eva and Jessica, would it?<br/>
<br/>
You find yourself grinning to yourself, and tapping a tooth with a sharp fingernail, as you reflect how neatly things are clicking together, even without making any new doppelgangers.<br/>
<br/>
But of course, it's to make new doppelgangers that you've changed positions. So the next order of business is to figure out who to recruit as Number One's junior partner.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're in bed, under the covers, trawling through social media for ideas and inspirations, when a DM pops up. It's from Number Three: <i>Two says yur boss now rite?</i> You reply with a thumbs-up emoji. <i>U have ideas for dealing with Gordon?</i> comes the follow-up.<br/>
<br/>
You make a face. Gordon has been such a butt, and Number One has been so hungry for her scruffmonster, that it's been easiest to ignore him. <i>No,</i> you reply. <i>He pretty far down list.<br/>
<br/>
Ok but he told me today he thinking of braking up w u and asking out kendra.</i><br/>
<br/>
You almost come out of the bed. With a trembling fingertip you dial Patterson's cell. "I thought that'd get your attention," is his dry opening line when he picks up.<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck?" you spit. "Who does that fucker think he is?"<br/>
<br/>
There's a pause. Then: "Boss?"<br/>
<br/>
You take a deep breath, and center. <i>That's right, be the boss. Don't let it rattle you. You're not Chelsea, you're Number One, just a cog in the plan. The boss's plan is what's important.</i> "Report," you tell Number Three in a flat, neutral tone.<br/>
<br/>
"He told me tonight, when we were up in the loft. I was teasing him about not being with you. He said he was going to dump you, because you're a bitch and are about to get kicked off the cheerleader squad. He said Kendra was going to be the new captain, and he asked me if it would be okay if he asked her out after he dumped you." He pauses. "He was drunk, but I think he was serious."<br/>
<br/>
Now that you remember, Gordon didn't put up much of a fight when Number One told him she didn't want to see Jason up in the loft anymore. In fact, he only grunted at her. Had he already decided then to break up with his girlfriend?<br/>
<br/>
Number Three asks, "Is he onto something, what he says about Kendra?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, but I didn't know he had heard about it. He must have heard it from Kendra."<br/>
<br/>
"She's a snake." Another pause. "The kind of snake who could be useful to us."<br/>
<br/>
"She will be."<br/>
<br/>
At the last big meeting, you said that Gordon was also going to be replaced. But you weren't planning to make him your Number Eight—if you were going to replace him, he would belong to one of your junior partners.<span class="ddllorcSOP"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511111112
author_id: seuzz
title: Gym-Jamboree
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>Gordon has told Number Three that he's going to dump Chelsea and start going with Kendra. <i>Don't think like Chelsea,</i> you remind yourself. <i>Think like the boss. Think like Number One. What's the best play to make?</i><br/>
<br/>
It would be a huge blow to Chelsea Cooper if she got dumped from the cheerleader squad and also lost Gordon Black, the captain of the basketball team, as her boyfriend. But Chelsea can always bounce back. And wouldn't the bounce be all the better, the ultimate victory all the sweeter, if she first got knocked down hard? Gordon and Kendra will be cogs in your machine before long, so it will be easy to arrange a reversal. You can afford to have some fun in the meantime.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks for the quick report," you tell Number Three. "I'll have to think about what to do, but it's nothing we can't handle. I'll see you tomorrow. In character." Number Three makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and the line goes dead.<br/>
<br/>
You put the phone under your pillow, then turn onto your back to stare at the ceiling. Hours pass, and you lay there, motionlessly, in the same posture, only occasionally blinking. Sleep never comes, but neither does thought. It's like you're waiting for a signal. But it never comes, unless the alarm that goes off at five-thirty is it. You reach under the pillow to turn off the alarm, then throw off the covers and stride into the bathroom for a quick shower. Then you change into workout clothes to do some stretches. Then it's down into the exercise room, where you prop your phone on the exercise bike and do a couple of miles. Then it's upstairs to take another, longer, sudsier shower and wash your hair. Out of the bath you scrub your face down hard, deodorize and powder yourself all over, use the tweezers on some bothersome hairs in your eyebrows, nose, and upper lip, and put on makeup. Then you blow-dry your hair.<br/>
<br/>
It's a little after seven when you dress, in short, lemon-yellow panties; a pale, plaid wrap-around skirt that rides more than midway up your thigh; a midriff-exposing halter top; and a sloppy, long-sleeve, knitted sweater that you leave unbuttoned up the front. Your hair you brush into shape, then shake it all out again and touch up with some gel to give it a tousled, "I just rolled out of bed but don't I still look awesome" kind of vibe. Indeed, your whole look, down to the ratty black Converse sneakers and lack of socks, is calculated to make it appear like you fell out of bed ten minutes before class and rushed off to school only after brushing your teeth.<br/>
<br/>
The house is alive with noise by this point, and you feel your own expression come alive as you throw your book bag onto your shoulder and wheel toward the bedroom door. Jordan, shirtless and with the start of a beer belly hanging over the top of his pajama bottoms, is standing at the head of the stairs, stupidly gazing down at his cell phone. You elbow him hard in the side as you head down. You've got things to do today, and you will run over anyone who gets in the way.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The boys are just trooping off toward the changing room when you come marching into the gym. You hesitate, then swerve over to cut off Gordon and Steve before they can disappear. You glare up at your boyfriend. "You didn't pick me up this morning," you snarl at him.<br/>
<br/>
His expression is stony. "You didn't ask me to."<br/>
<br/>
"God <i>damn it,</i> Gordon!" You only just stop yourself from stomping on his foot. "I was waiting outside at six-thirty and for twenty minutes before I realized you weren't coming by!"<br/>
<br/>
Steve jumps in. "You could've texted him, Chels."<br/>
<br/>
"You stay out of this! Gordon, do you ever think about how freaking <i>thoughtless—</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"He spent the night up here, Chels," Steve interrupts.<br/>
<br/>
"What?" You gape at Steve, then turn on Gordon with renewed fury, and jab him in the stomach with a sharp finger. "The fuck, Gordon? You know you can't keep doing that! One of these days the administration or somebody is going to— <i>And what are you fucking looking at?</i>" you scream at Jeremy Richards, who is loitering nearby and openly listening in. Steve glances over and growls, "Get your ass changed, Richards."<br/>
<br/>
"We'll talk about it at lunch," Gordon rumbles at you, and turns to leave.<br/>
<br/>
"No, we'll talk about it now! Gordon! If we don't talk about it now, don't bother trying to talk to me at lunch! Fuck you, Steve!" you scream at the smirking Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, fuck me, Chels," he gloats. "You just keep screaming at Gordon, see how well it works." He turns to follow Gordon, and if you had something heavy in your hand, you'd probably throw it at the back of his head. With a gasp of fury, you turn and charge off toward the girls' changing room.<br/>
<br/>
You've torn off all your school clothes and are halfway into workout clothes when the other girls start filtering in. You shoot them all a slit-eyed glare, one by one, as they come trooping in, laughing; and all of them falter under your murderous glance. All talk dies out as the others change under your wrathful gaze, but you say nothing from behind crossed arms, and don't even glance at them as, in ones and twos, they push past you toward the door. But the last of them you stop with a finger to the chest: Michelle Estrich.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle is a new girl at Westside, from out of town, and her presence on the cheerleading squad is something of an embarrassment to everyone. All the other girls are either "Team Cindy" or "Team Chelsea," but Michelle stands stubbornly aloof. It's her own fault, of course. Chelsea chose her for the squad during tryouts, and from Michelle she got the final vote she needed to claim the captaincy of the squad. And Chelsea even tried to be friendly with her, inviting her out with Steve and Gordon for a late-night private party in the gym, and setting her up for a romantic evening with Steve. But Michelle got all stiff and awkward about it and backed out, so Chelsea dropped her as more trouble than she was worth. And yet Michelle never bonded with Cindy's gang either. In fact, she doesn't seem to have any friends at all.<br/>
<br/>
Your anger at Gordon has cooled and then cooled some more, so that you now feel like there's a block of ice where your heart should be, and it's in a very cold voice that you speak to Michelle. "I hear you're quitting the squad."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle, who isn't very pretty but at least has regular features, gets kind of a parched look. "Where'd you hear that from?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kendra and Gloria."<br/>
<br/>
A spot of color shows in her forehead. "Kendra and Gloria told me that <i>you</i> wanted me to quit the squad."<br/>
<br/>
You smile mirthlessly. "That's what I said. You're quitting the squad."<br/>
<br/>
Now that spot turns white. "I'm not quitting," she says, and tries to brush past you, but you stop her again.<br/>
<br/>
"You're quitting because you're not good enough, Michelle, and I've already got a replacement lined up. Coach Tesla already knows all about it. In fact, she thinks that you've already quit."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, then I'll go tell her I'm not, and she—"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't want to fight me on this, Michelle. You wouldn't want to, even if it wasn't Jack Li who's joining the squad."<br/>
<br/>
She looks puzzled. "What does that have to do with—?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're adding a guy to the squad, that's what it has to do with. We need diversity, and Jack's got stuff he can teach us. Also, he's gay." You plump your lips into a smirk. "You wouldn't want to get a reputation for being <i>homophobic,</i> would you, Michelle, by keeping Jack off the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
A flush rushes up her neck and into her cheeks. "That doesn't—! Why don't <i>you</i> quit, if someone has to quit in order for—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Michelle, Michelle!" You sigh. "You don't get it. Nobody likes you. Nobody wants you. Nobody would take your side or even listen to you. I can make it very rough for you, you know, if you don't go along with me. Or—" <br/>
<br/>
You cock your head. "You could be the hero. We can't have eleven people on the squad. It's a stupid school rule, but there it is, someone has to jump out of the boat so Jack can climb in. And <i>you</i> could be that noble girl who sacrifices herself for the sake of diversity!" You give her a patient smile. "It's win-win for everyone!" Then you let the smile fade. "Or it's lose-lose if you don't. But I'd make sure you'd be a <i>far</i> bigger loser than the rest of us, if you don't—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>"Alright!"</i> Michelle looks like she's about to burst into tears. "I'll get out of your way! But just let me go, I don't want—!"<br/>
<br/>
She starts to run off, but you grab her by the wrist. "Michelle! Don't go away mad! I told you, I promise, I'll make you the hero for doing this, you'll—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want anything from you!" She jerks away and runs for the door.<br/>
<br/>
"You're going to get it anyway, Michelle!" you holler after her, even after she's gone. "You'll see! This'll turn things around for you! People will <i>love</i> you for being so noble!"<br/>
<br/>
But she's gone, and there's no one in the empty locker room to hear as you giggle to yourself.<br/>
<br/>
But you <i>will</i> make it up to her, you promise yourself. You <i>will</i> make sure the whole school knows how noble and progressive it was of Michelle to sacrifice her own position on the cheerleading squad so Jack could get on. The whole school will know how much you—Chelsea Cooper, captain of the squad—are in awe of Michelle and her sacrifice. You will have done her a good turn, in fact, since she needs the talking up.<br/>
<br/>
When you think about it that way, it actually makes you kind of a philanthropist!<span class="QbcRddgOKK"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111111121
author_id: seuzz
title: Rumors Plus
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You say nothing about Michelle to the other girls when you join them out on the gym floor, and when Yumi bluntly asks where your tenth is, you only smile and say that she's sitting this session out. Chelsea is usually very tough on the other girls at practice, but today you just put everyone through the usual exercise and practice regimen, and hardly say a word. You can't help noticing the knowing glances that get exchanged, though, particularly between Yumi and Kendra.<br/>
<br/>
Speaking of Kendra ...<br/>
<br/>
You know that she's planning to backstab you in every way possible. By getting you voted out as team captain; by getting you kicked off the squad, probably; and by stealing your boyfriend. But you pretend with her that everything is fine, and even pull her and Gloria aside privately after first period to tell them that Michelle has quit the squad. "Here's the story I want you to put out," you tell them. "I was talking with her about how we needed more diversity on the squad. I don't mean skin color"—you glance between Kendra, who is black, and Gloria, who is Hispanic—"because, God! we've got twice as many Asians on the squad as we can stand, honestly. But I told her I wanted to add a guy, and I wanted to add Jack Li, because he's got some great dance steps he could teach us. And—"<br/>
<br/>
"Did you have this talk with Michelle?" Kendra asks.<br/>
<br/>
"No! Don't be stupid. What I actually said to Michelle was, Get your ass off the squad or I'll make you regret it for the rest of your life, and your children's lives, and the lives of whatever fuckspawn <i>they</i> fart out! But the story <i>you</i> need to spread around is that Michelle thought it would be great to add Jack, because he's also gay, and that would be, you know, super <i>progressive</i> of us, but I was all, like, except we can't add an eleventh, and so she <i>volunteered</i> to quit to make room for him." You titter. "Wasn't that <i>noble</i> of her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Unbelievable," Gloria says in a very dry tone.<br/>
<br/>
"I know! People will eat it up."<br/>
<br/>
"Why do we want to tell people this story?" Kendra whines.<br/>
<br/>
"We need to give people a <i>reason</i> Michelle is off the squad."<br/>
<br/>
"And one that gives us some cred," Gloria adds for you.<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly! And it gives Michelle some credit too. You know, as, I dunno. Consolation."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to give that flope <i>any</i> cred," Kendra grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, grow up, Kendra. Be big about it. And put your back into this story. I want the senior class putting up a GoFundMe to erect a statue to Michelle." You giggle. "Won't that be funny!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But Kendra remains sulky all during the Interior Design class you share with her next, slouching with her arms crossed and hardly talking even when you break into small groups to work on a project. That gives you plenty of time to notice that you're getting some sidelong glances from some of the people in there.<br/>
<br/>
Or maybe it's just Christian Padilla who's giving you those sidelong looks. He's not very shy about it.<br/>
<br/>
Christian is a slab of beef who likes to dress like he's going to school in Hawaii. Today, for instance, he's in cut-off jeans, flip-flops, a sleeveless t-shirt with a pineapple printed on the front, and a shell necklace. His dark hair, which he wears chopped back into short curls, gleams like it's been oiled. He's also flamboyantly gay—one of Charles Hartlein's posse—and sometimes drops in on Chelsea to swap hot gossip.<br/>
<br/>
So when the bell rings, you dismiss Kendra while pretending to be absorbed in your phone, and remain in your seat long enough for Christian to get the impression he has time to impose on you. Which he does.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, Chelsea," he calls over to you with a bright smirk. "Walk you and talk you to your next class?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, just a sec!" He waits as you pop off the text to Number Two, telling her to expect a longer DM about Michelle, then grab up your stuff. "You're looking extra scrumptious today, Christian!"<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks!" He beams, then boldly tweaks and settles a fold in your sweater. "I wish I looked as good as you when <i>I</i> go casual!" You dimple at him.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen, before I walk you to your locker or anything—" He glances over his shoulder at Mrs. Heaney, who is busy at her desk. "Can I get you in a corner here to talk?"<br/>
<br/>
"What about?" But Christian doesn't answer until he has herded you into an actual corner of the classroom.<br/>
<br/>
"I hear there's things happening on the squad," he says in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Like what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like Michelle is quitting it?"<br/>
<br/>
"She already did. This morning. She—"<br/>
<br/>
"And Jack Li is joining the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"Wow, news spread fast."<br/>
<br/>
"I try to be first in line. I also hear—" He glances at the open doorway, and his voice drops almost to a whisper. "I also hear that Cindy and them are going to try getting rid of <i>you</i> next."<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. "Cindy's always got this big old hair up her butt about—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, this time it's serious. They've already talked to Jack about it, about helping them. And <i>Kendra</i> is going along with them." He looks very knowing. "She's going to stab you in the back."<br/>
<br/>
This is very old news, of course, but you pretend not to be impressed.<br/>
<br/>
"Where are you getting this from, Christian?" you ask. "Is this from Charles, is he stirring up some shit on account of—? I know him and Jack don't like each other—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, this is from me! I mean, Charles has heard all about it, too—"<br/>
<br/>
"I bet he has."<br/>
<br/>
"—but I'm just telling you. Kendra and Jack are gonna line up on Cindy's side. And I'm telling you this because— Well—"<br/>
<br/>
"How come?"<br/>
<br/>
He gets a pinched look, and you laugh. "Do you have a crush on me or something, Christian? Am I gonna have to sic Gordon on you?"<br/>
<br/>
Alarm shows in his face. "What?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just teasing. I know you like me, but Gordon's totally okay with it. I could even make out with you, and he'd just be all, like, Pff!" You reach up and tickle the back of Christian's head, and he stiffens. "I like you too, Christian. Maybe we could make out some time, if I could get the loft to myself. You ever been up there?" He shakes his head. "We'll have to do something sometime." You pull his head toward you, and kiss him lightly on the side of the mouth. "Thanks for thinking of me, I really appreciate it. Let me know how I can ever pay <i>you</i> back with a favor." You let him go, and with a last, beguiling smile over your shoulder, saunter off toward the door.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Christian </i>is<i> gay, isn't he?</i> you wonder when you're out in the hallway. Because unless he had a pencil case or something in his front pocket, you were giving him an erection.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Cindy and her gang must be pretty confident, if rumor of their plot has reached Christian and Charles and them. (And if it's reached Charles, it's probably out to half the school by now.) So during third period—a blow-off "French for Reading Knowledge" class—you DM Number Seven (under cover of using an online translator) to tell him about the warning you got from Christian. His reply doesn't come until the break between third and fourth period, though, and then it's just an exclamation point.<br/>
<br/>
You're still not worried, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't guard your flank, so you risk being late to fourth period by going off in search of Marc Garner. He's one of the guys that Chelsea likes to keep an eye on, so you know to look for him in the language wing. And sure enough, that's where you find him, in the doorway of Frau Kohl's classroom, in a clinch with Hannah Westrick.<br/>
<br/>
He's looking very fresh, hot, and happy as he twines himself closely to her. His face is flushed and his spiky blonde hair is wet, like he's freshly showered. <i>Oh, of course,</i> you think to yourself. <i>He would have just got out of soccer practice.</i> He and Hannah—a big, athletic, bosomy girl with a personality like an avalanche—are murmuring into each other's faces and ignoring the students who are squeezing past, but you boldly step up and into their eye line. "Hey Marc!" you exclaim brightly. "Hannah!"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, hey Chelsea!" Marc does a little double take at you, and flatters you with a deepening gleam in his eye as he gives you an appreciative up and down. Hannah smiles broadly at you too.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm glad I caught you together, 'cos I wanted to talk to both of you. Hannah." You delicately pinch the collar of her blouse. "I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about what happened last weekend."<br/>
<br/>
"What happened?" she echoes.<br/>
<br/>
"That thing with the East-West Club. That, uh, 'incident'?"<br/>
<br/>
"She means that banner," Marc tells Hannah.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. What about it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you know it was aimed at you."<br/>
<br/>
"What?" Hannah's forehead creases with puzzlement.<br/>
<br/>
"Someone was trying to stir up some shit. On account of, you know, you used to go to Eastman."<br/>
<br/>
Hannah's eyebrows shoot up. "No, I didn't hear about that. What are you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought it was just a mistake," Marc interrupts. "Wasn't it just some freshman girl who got mixed up—?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's what Anita and them are <i>trying</i> to make it sound like. It was totally meant to embarrass <i>you,</i> Hannah."<br/>
<br/>
She darts a quick glance at Marc, who is now starting to look alarmed. "What does Anita—? Anita Nuevo?" he stammers. "What does she—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Her and her friends on the soccer team cooked it up, and tricked that poor freshman girl into doing their dirty work. No one takes it seriously, Hannah, so you shouldn't either. But Anita was totally out of line with that, and I want you to know—" You tap her meaningfully on the shoulder. "I am <i>totally</i> in your corner. Anita needs to get knocked down a couple of rungs."<span class="QbcRddgOKK"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122111355313111212111151151111111211
author_id: seuzz
title: The Chessboard
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You're giving Marc and Hannah a song and dance about how you're on their side in Hannah's feud against Anita Nuevo, but far from looking grateful, they are looking a little ill. Marc in particular looks trapped.<br/>
<br/>
But they also look too bewildered to argue or even question you, so you tie up the conversation with a bright bow. "How about we get together tonight, get a bite somewhere? You guys and me and—" You roll your eyes. "Tch! I was going to say, you and me and Gordon, but he's doing something stupid with Steve tonight. But that's okay, he's always a grumble-butt when I drag him along with other people. It'll be nice, just the three of us. Are you okay for meeting up to eat?" You turn on your brightest, most eager smile.<br/>
<br/>
Still, they hesitate, and search each other's faces. Marc is the one who finally gasps out something like an acceptance. "Uh, sure," he stammers. "That'd be— I mean, we'd like to get together and ... talk. Right?" he anxiously queries Hannah. She looks between you and him, and nods.<br/>
<br/>
"How about Panera? They've got salads for me and Hannah—" You flash her a quick smile. "A big old slabby sandwiches of meat for you." You touch Marc's flat, iron-hard stomach with a teasing fingertip. "Six o'clock? I'm usually up here until five or so, so that'll give me time to run home to freshen up first. Oh!" You lean in and catch them together in a quick, tight hug. "I keep thinking how much I need to connect up with you guys! Hannah, I hear you are <i>such</i> a breath of fresh air on the soccer team! And Marc." You gurgle. "I wanna see what you and Hannah look like together, 'cos I hear you are both so <i>cute!</i> Six o'clock then! Bye!" You hop back into the rapidly emptying hallway and turn on your heel toward the cafeteria. Tempted though you are to glance back over your shoulder at them, you resist. It would look weak or needy if you did.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Relations between you and Gordon are Arctic at lunch. He brings you a tray of food, as he always does, but drops it with a bang in front of you before falling onto the bench at your side. He doesn't speak to you or to anybody, and you ignore him to talk to the rest of the girls and guys at the alpha table. Besides your friends Kendra, Gloria, and Maria Vasquez, that would be Cindy Vredenburg and Eva Garner, who hate Chelsea but feel like they have to protect themselves by keeping a seat at the most elevated table in the cafeteria; and Gordon and Steve and some of the guys from the basketball squad and other teams. When Cindy coolly asks if it's true that Michelle is leaving the squad, and that Jack Li will be joining it, you gleefully give her the story you told Kendra and Gloria to spread around—how Michelle nobly volunteered to step aside for Jack—and pretend not to notice the sly, smug smile that slowly creeps onto her face. But mostly you use lunch to viciously denounce Anita Nuevo, Kelly Rinaldi, Dominique Hughes, and all the other bitches and cunts that swirl around them on the girls' varsity soccer squad, and making great play of the fact that Hannah Westrick was a star player out at Eastman, and that they tried to keep her off the Westside squad when she moved to WHS, and have been doing everything they can to hurt and humiliate her. "Someone needs to explain to Anita," you grandly declare, "that she needs to think about the good of the team, and not just what she thinks would be good for <i>her!</i>" No one says much in reply, but they do listen alertly.<br/>
<br/>
After lunch, you and Kendra and Gloria take over the D-wing girls' restroom to freshen up your makeup and air out your clothes. Gloria asks if Anita is the next "project" that you all will be working on. "One of them," you confirm while concentrating on the lip gloss you're applying. "But it's only half about pushing Anita back down where she belongs. We're gonna be talking up Hannah."<br/>
<br/>
"Why?" Kendra asks with undisguised loathing. "She was the school slut back at Eastman."<br/>
<br/>
"Kendra," you reply. "Don't call the kettle black." Inwardly, you quail after the words are out, worrying that you have overreached, and press quickly on to cover it. "That was her junior year. Every girl's got a right to test drive anything in the parking lot her junior year. The senior year is when she stops opening her truck for everyone, and picks a regular driver. Like the way you and Steve have?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tell that to Steve," Kendra mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that's Steve. It doesn't mean <i>you</i> can't be exclusive to him. But I think Marc and Hannah must have settled in together." You fumble through your purse for the eyeliner. "They look really good together, you know. Almost as good as me and Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
You watch Kendra's and Gloria's reflections out of the corner of your eye. They both try to remain impassive. This puzzles you a little. Kendra's reticence you can get. But Gloria's? You have to wonder. If Christian has heard about Kendra's plans against you, then Gloria certainly has. And Gloria and Kendra hate each other—it's the reason Chelsea has always kept them close to her, so they will compete for her favor. So why hasn't <i>Gloria</i> warned you about Kendra's plot?<br/>
<br/>
"Oof," you groan after the silence has lengthened. "I shouldn't have had that soda at lunch. I need to use the toilet." You gather up your stuff. "You don't have to wait for me or anything." The last thing you see before you close the door on them is Kendra giving you a hooded look.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
They're both gone when you emerge, but as you're washing your hands, Kim Walsh steps into the restroom. That's not a coincidence, of course. You texted her while you were pretending to pee.<br/>
<br/>
You don't have the place to yourselves, but there's no one you know around, and if you keep your voice low while working again on your makeup, it's only so Number Two will lean in close so she can hear you over the rattling chatter of sophomore girls.<br/>
<br/>
"Call or text or talk to Number Seven," you tell her. "I'd do it myself, but I don't want it to look like I'm setting something up with him, if someone sees us. Tell him to come out to Panera tonight, between six-fifteen and six-thirty. I'll be there with Marc Garner and Hannah Westrick. Number Seven can bring friends if he wants, but he's to join us at our table when we invite him." Number Two nods. "Then, after about ten minutes or so, he's to—"<br/>
<br/>
It's a rather detailed plan you give to Number Two—one you worked out in third period—but she gets it instantly. She also gets it when you tell her to find Number Six and tell him to be out at Panera between six-thirty and six-forty, and to stop by that same table. "Tell Seven to include Six in whatever plans he's got for tonight, and tell Six to go along with him."<br/>
<br/>
"Is there anything special they need to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I'm just moving pieces on the chessboard."<br/>
<br/>
But is that all you're doing by bringing Number Six along? Or is it because you've been playing Number One all day, and minute by minute and hour by hour you find yourself thinking more besottedly of your scruffmonster, and are desperate to lock eyes onto him again?<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's only one more bit of business before eighth period study hall, when you'll have your usual end-of-the-day conference with Kendra and Gloria, and that comes between fifth and sixth period. During fifth, a Marriage and Family Life class, a message comes from the office that you're to go talk to Coach Tesla when class is out, so you make a quick trip to the gym during the break. You can guess what it's about, and sure enough it's about Michelle. The coach, whose face is flushed and baggier than usual, tells you that Michelle has quit the squad. "Are we going to have another series of tryouts?" she asks in a voice haggard with fear. You assure her that won't be necessary, that you've already spoken to Jack Li about stepping in to replace Michelle. The coach looks surprised and vexed, but she doesn't argue, and only mumbles that she'll trust you to take care of it.<br/>
<br/>
And there isn't much to talk about eighth period. You have already given Kendra and Gloria two big sets of marching orders—to spread a story about Michelle's quitting the cheerleading squad, and to start tearing down Anita Nuevo while building up Hannah Westrick—and they confirm they've gotten to work on both stories. As for any stray bits of tittle and tattle they have picked up, Gloria has only one that is at all intriguing: Victoria Rodriguez got in a hair-pulling fight in the E-wing girls' restroom with Trina Murillo.<br/>
<br/>
"Trina Murillo," you muse. "Isn't she—?"<br/>
<br/>
"With Marcos Rivera," Gloria primly confirms.<br/>
<br/>
"Marcos?" Kendra sniggers. "Which of his girlfriends is she?"<br/>
<br/>
"The one who lets him take her up the ass."<br/>
<br/>
"What's Victoria got against Trina?" you ask. "Or is it the other way around?"<br/>
<br/>
Kendra fills you in with a tedious story about how Victoria has lately cut out all her old friends—some nobodies whose names you recognize but whose faces you can't quite place—to try getting herself some new and more socially attractive ones. "My guess is Victoria is auditioning for Trina's place as Marcos's Number Two Girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"That's up to Cristina to decide, isn't it?" Gloria asks.<br/>
<br/>
Before Kendra can answer, her phone buzzes with a text. While she studies it, Gloria starts filling you in on the complicated dance that allows Marcos Rivera to balance three girlfriends simultaneously.<br/>
<br/>
But before she can finish, Kendra drops a bombshell. "Oh my God," she says. "Kelsey's set up to get some action this weekend." She gives you and Gloria a knowing look. "From two guys <i>at the same time.</i>"<span class="ddllorcSOP"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511111112111
author_id: seuzz
title: Dinner and a Side Plot
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You and Gloria exchange looks of surprise and amazement. You try to grab Kendra's phone. "Lemme see!"<br/>
<br/>
But she pulls it out of reach. "It's from Mindy, if that's what you want to know."<br/>
<br/>
"What's she <i>say?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Kendra reads: "Oh-em-gee, Kelsey's set up a three-way this weekend with Karl and Justin. She must mean Justin Roth," Kendra adds. "I'll ask her." She continues reading. "Probably at the Donna, she says, but I try find out."<br/>
<br/>
"Is Mindy usually on the level?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Usually. Almost always." Kendra concentrates on tapping in a reply. "She's who I got that news last week, about Eric Harlen and that sophomore girl."<br/>
<br/>
"No one cared," Gloria sniffs. Kendra shoots her a quick, spiteful look.<br/>
<br/>
"Whoa." You tap a front tooth with your fingernail. "The Donna, you think? We're gonna need someone to stake that out, try to get some pictures."<br/>
<br/>
"You could ask Kim," Kendra suggests with a smirk.<br/>
<br/>
"You could ask Steve to take you there," you reply, ignoring her gibe. "Get him to spend some money on you, instead of doing it all the time up in the loft." Now Kendra shoots <i>you</i> a dirty look.<br/>
<br/>
"That'd be expensive," Gloria says. "Paying for all day and a couple of nights."<br/>
<br/>
"How do <i>you</i> know how much it is?" you retort. "But we need to know where. It's got to be someplace like the Donna. They can't do it at one of their houses, can they? Unless— Oh, crap!" You feel yourself pale. "What if Kelsey's parents are going out of town or something, and that's how come—?"<br/>
<br/>
"I told Mindy to try to find out where. Maybe <i>she</i> could stake out the motel."<br/>
<br/>
"Is she going with anyone?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's been rubbing herself all over David Kirkham lately."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, <i>ick!</i> But do you think she'd do it? Why is she telling you this?"<br/>
<br/>
"We trade stuff. Also, Mindy thinks it makes us, like, gal pals. <i>Tch!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I want to hear <i>all</i> about it, the minute you—"<br/>
<br/>
Gloria interrupts. "Where did <i>Mindy</i> hear this?"<br/>
<br/>
Kendra makes a face. "Don't worry, Gloria, I'll find that out too."<br/>
<br/>
"Because if she doesn't know what she's talking about—"<br/>
<br/>
"I said I'd find out!"<br/>
<br/>
"Calm down, both of you," you order. "Kendra, you find out <i>everything</i> from Mindy. Gloria—" You ponder. "Do you know anyone who hangs out with ... Justin Roth?" you query Kendra. She and Gloria both nod. "See if they know anything. But, you know, indirect. Like—"<br/>
<br/>
"I know how to handle it, Chelsea," Gloria says.<br/>
<br/>
"I know you do. It's just— Wow. This is <i>big.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"What do we do with it?" Kendra asks. "If it happens."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean if we get pictures?" You giggle. "I'll have to think about it. You girls should too."<br/>
<br/>
You sink down in your chair, in a reverie of possibilities.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Of course, there's no reason to send Kendra and Gloria out snooping when you can just ask Number Four directly. Which you do after school, while sitting high up in the gym bleachers to watch basketball practice. The reply, when it comes, mystifies you: Number Four says she hasn't heard anything from Karl, even after he finally said he'd talk to Justin about it. But you get some possible light on what's going on when Kendra reports that Mindy told her that she heard from Michael Hurst that when he was out at the portables with some of the guys at lunch that Spencer Osbourne was telling them all that he heard from a couple of guys that Justin was talking to some of his friends about being set up for some three-way action with Karl and Kelsey. So maybe Four just doesn't know yet. Afterwards, when you're at home changing clothes, you text her again, ordering her to poke Karl to find out if anything is actually set up.<br/>
<br/>
Then you push it all from your mind as you drive out to Panera to meet Marc Garner and Hannah Westrick.<br/>
<br/>
They're staring at the menu board when you arrive; you squeal and give each of them a quick hug and grin. "This going to be so nice!" you exclaim. "I hardly ever get to see you, it seems like! There was the party out at my place at the start of school, but—" You do a double-take at Hannah. "You were out there, right? God, I sound awful, don't I? Not remembering? But that's where we met. I remember now!" You poke Hannah with a friendly finger. "You and Marc were out there, and someone told me you were going together, and I thought that was <i>scrumptious</i> when I saw you two together! And you moved over to Westside so you could be with him, did I hear something like that? Ooooh!" You bounce on your toes. "If there was a guy I liked so much I changed schools just to be with him, I think I'd <i>die</i> every time we got together!"<br/>
<br/>
Neither Marc nor Hannah have much to say to this avalanche of expression, and only exchange amused glances. But after ordering your food and taking a table, you cut out the gushing to get down to business.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea about I said earlier today," you tell Hannah. "About Anita and them."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, what was that all about?" Hannah asks. "What did you hear and where did you get it from?"<br/>
<br/>
Her words seem to chill your blood. Hannah, now that you get a really good look at her—something Chelsea never really did before—you notice what a big girl she is. Not that she's fat, but she is powerfully built behind a large bosom, and she has a bold nose and an unflinching gaze. Between that and the great mane of curly, dirty-blond hair that pours onto her shoulders, she puts you uncomfortably in mind of a lioness resting comfortably while speculatively studying possible prey. This girl, you realize with some slight worry, is not going to be easy to daunt or bulldoze.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I didn't <i>hear</i> anything directly," you confess. "I mean, it's not like Anita went online and posted, you know, 'Haha, we really did a thing to Hannah with that banner thing, ha ha.' But I know how Westside runs, Hannah, and I can put things together—"<br/>
<br/>
"So what did you 'put together'?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, only that it was one of Anita's friends in the East-West Club, Kelly Rinaldi, who— You know <i>her,</i> right?" You give Hannah a knowing look, and are gratified to see a faint flush appear at her throat. "Well, it was her that got that Erin girl to did the banner. So put the pieces together. Anita and Kelly. And Kelly and Erin. Who's totally innocent, but whatever."<br/>
<br/>
"That doesn't prove anything, Chelsea," Marc says. He's been listening with a look of open skepticism. "And, I mean, how does that banner, and doing something with the East-West Club, how is that—?" He gives Hannah a pained glance. "What does that have to do with Hannah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I don't know, Marc. But that's how I put things together. I mean, maybe I'm wrong, but ever since I've know Anita, I've felt like I've got good reason to not trust her." You give Hannah a very direct look. "How did your tryout for the girls' soccer squad go?"<br/>
<br/>
The flush on Hannah's face deepens, and Marc shifts in his chair. "When I heard about that," you tell him, "I told Gordon that he should talk to you about telling Anita— Did he talk to you?" Marc shakes his head. "Pssh! Sometimes I think I'm so done with him. All he ever thinks about is his own squad. But even if Anita wasn't behind this whole East-West fiasco, I want you to know, Hannah, that I'm totally on your side. Every time, about every thing."<br/>
<br/>
Your food arrives just then, and when the server is gone you change the subject by asking Marc if he's heard any good gossip from his sisters.<br/>
<br/>
He hasn't (of course) and the conversation has wandered off to the topic of some recent popular TV shows when someone looms up behind your shoulder. You look up, and squeal with pleasure. "Jack!"<br/>
<br/>
"Hey all." His grin is easy and relaxed, and with a loose wave of his hand he summons over a couple of girls—Laura MacGregor, Brianna Kirschke, Leah Simmons—who have followed him in. "What is this, like a team captains' meeting?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"No, we just got to talking at school, and the next thing we had plans." You tug at Jack's sleeve. "You wanna sit down?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is there room for all of us?"<br/>
<br/>
"Let's move to a bigger table," you declare, and before anyone can react you've scooped your bowl and silverware up and are eyeballing the room. "Oooh! Over there!" <br/>
<br/>
You and Marc and Hannah get your stuff moved while Jack and the others go to the front to order. The girls quickly join you, but Jack wanders away. A minute later, Marc's phone buzzes. There's a delay of another minute or so after he's checked and frowned at the text, and then he excuses himself to "use the head," which leaves you alone with a tableful of girls. Laura—a girl you yourself hung out a lot with your freshman year—takes advantage to pump you for information on how and why Jack is joining the cheerleading squad. You repeat the story that you've been telling everyone else: that you want to freshen up the old routines with some more dance-like moves, and that Jack would be the one teach you all those moves. "And he looks <i>great</i> in shorts," you add to much laughter.<br/>
<br/>
Your own phone buzzes with a text just as Marc rejoins you, and you check it under the table. It's from Number Seven: <i>Done.</i> He hardly even looks at you when he himself reappears.<br/>
<br/>
So as far as you're concerned, that finishes up dinner, and you're looking for an excuse to duck out early when Number Six comes sauntering over. You give him only the most cursory glance, but do a double-take when Laura MacGregor comes out of her seat with a cry of "Will!" and catches him around the waist in a quick hug.<span class="QbcRddgOKK"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111111121111
author_id: seuzz
title: Victoria Rodriguez
chapter_content:
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path: 113122111355313111212111151151111111211115
author_id: seuzz
title: A Coup Quashed
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"Well, what is everyone standing around for?"<br/>
<br/>
It's Wednesday morning, and you're in the girls' locker room, having just changed into workout clothes for first-period practice. There was an odd, charged atmosphere in the changing room when you entered—no one was talking—but you'd put it down simply to shock at Michelle's disappearance from the squad. Now, though, as you look around, you see that half the squad—more than half!—are gathered in the doorway with their arms folded. They are clustered around Cindy Vredenburg, who is staring at you with a look of open contempt.<br/>
<br/>
"We have to have a team meeting," Cindy says.<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. "After practice, Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"No, now. Because maybe you don't want to go to practice after we've had the meeting." A faint smirk shows on her lips.<br/>
<br/>
A chill strikes your heart as you realize that she's making her move now. Your eyes dart over the faces of the girls clustered about her: Yumi Saito (an expression of gloating triumph on her face); Lin Pol (inscrutable); the Garner sisters (looking a little embarrassed).<br/>
<br/>
"Alright," you sigh with pretended exasperation. "What do you want to talk about? Michelle? Who replaces her? Because that's—"<br/>
<br/>
"Have we already started?" Yumi interrupts. "Because I move a vote of no confidence in our squad captain."<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft! That's funny, Yumi—"<br/>
<br/>
"I second the motion," Cindy says.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," you sigh, "all in favor?"<br/>
<br/>
"Aye!" Yumi exclaims, then starts as Cindy, with a frown, grabs her by the shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"Hang on," Cindy says. "First we have to vote on the voting procedure."<br/>
<br/>
"We've already started voting," you retort.<br/>
<br/>
"It has to be a secret ballot."<br/>
<br/>
"We've already started voting," you repeat. "Haven't we, Yumi?" You smirk at her.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, then, we suspend voting," Cindy says. Her expression falters. Again, you sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"Do you need me to dig out the school handbook?" you ask her. "There are <i>procedures</i> we have to follow. Once a vote starts, it has to be carried through to the end. Unless," you add with a mischievous smile, "you want to table the motion and close the team meeting. It can then be revived at a later meeting."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy's face is now a rictus of anger. "Okay, then we table the motion."<br/>
<br/>
"A point of order has been made," you chant. "The chair rules against it. The vote will proceed. Kendra?" She jumps as you turn to her, and looks stricken. "How do you vote? Aye or nay?"<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes bulge with fear, and they dart between you and Cindy as her mouth hangs open. But you lift an eyebrow, and her will crumbles. "Nay," she mutters with downcast face. "Gloria? Maria?" They also vote "Nay": Gloria with a wariness, and Maria with a clear sense of confusion and mystification. "I also vote nay," you announce, and you don't hide your glee at having outmaneuvered Cindy in this very tight corner she tried putting you in. "You know," you add softly, "it takes a two-thirds vote to win a 'no confidence' motion, and four of the nine members of the squad have already voted against it. Cindy, how do you vote?"<br/>
<br/>
Her expression has curdled up into one of frustration and fury, and she twitches behind her folded arms. Her mouth works. Finally, she says, "Abstain."<br/>
<br/>
"Eva?"<br/>
<br/>
She looks trapped, and glances quickly between her sister and the back of Cindy's head. Then, looking very pale, she murmurs, "Abstain."<br/>
<br/>
"Jessica? Lin?" They too with quiet anger abstain.<br/>
<br/>
"That makes it one aye, four nay, and four abstentions. Motion defeated. Any other business?" They all glare at you mutely. "Then I declare this team meeting concluded." You give them all your plumpest smile. "Everyone onto the floor. Except you, Yumi. I think you should sit today out, think about what you did. But stick around. I want to talk to you at the end of class."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You run practice briskly and dispassionately, offering no praise but making no criticisms either, even when Cindy in her anger- and shame-distracted state messes up badly a couple of times.<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty good today," you tell them after breaking early. "All things considered. Now, you all know we're down one person since Michelle quit, but we know who's coming on in her place. It's Jack Li. Trouble is, he can't make it to first-period practice, so we're going to have to set up an after-school practice session. Three-forty-five to five o'clock. If your schedule can't fit that in, you need to talk to me. Anyone know they can't make it?" There's only sullen silence from most of the girls. "Good. But let me know soon as you can if something comes up. We'll start tomorrow!" You clap your hands. "That's all!"<br/>
<br/>
Then you turn to the bleachers, where Yumi is perched way up high. You crook a finger at her. Glowering, she comes down to meet you. You greet her with a tight smile.<br/>
<br/>
"I want you to know, Yumi," you say, "that I don't hold any grudges about this morning. You and your friends just fucked up your play, that's all. Or, actually, I guess I should say that <i>you</i> fucked up their play for them." You smile tightly at her again.<br/>
<br/>
"I know all about Kendra, and how she was supposed to vote with you. She'd have been the sixth vote you needed. But you needed it to be a secret ballot, so I wouldn't know if it was her or Gloria or backstabbed me. Kendra's a snake, but she hasn't any guts. The only reason I let that vote happen was so she and you and Cindy would see that you can <i>never</i> win. But I'm not going to give you or Kendra or anyone another chance.<br/>
<br/>
"I can tell you're not happy on the squad, Yumi. And now <i>no one</i> is happy with you either. I'm telling you this as a friend"—your smile is the twist of the knife inside the phrase—"that I think it's best if you quit the squad. No one likes being miserable. And no one likes hanging around with someone who <i>is</i> miserable."<br/>
<br/>
Tears are puddling in her eyes now, even as her face burns with fury. But your gut tells you it's best to make sure, so you add: "And if you don't quit, I'm going to have to go to Coach Tesla and tell her that you're a disruptive influence and need to be taken off the squad. Today's vote—you the only one voting 'aye', everyone else voting 'no' or abstaining—proves that."<br/>
<br/>
For a long moment you think she's going to explode with curses, and maybe even hit you. But, quivering with anger, she wheels and marches off. At the door her fury finally overcomes her, and she flips you off over her shoulder without turning around.<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head sadly. <i>Poor Yumi.</i> Her replacement—when the time was ripe—could have been a very useful ally on the squad. But now she might not even earn the honor of being replaced with a doppelganger.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't hear anything from Yumi before the end of the day, and you don't speak to Kendra either, preferring to let her twist with anxious uncertainty. The important thing is the meeting you set up with Michelle. Naturally, you didn't approach her directly, but got Number Two to set it up. She and Number Three are waiting with you in the shadow-hung gym when the appointed hour—eight o'clock—rolls around. None of you speak or move as you wait.<br/>
<br/>
The door creaks open at a little after eight, and a figure enters. The gym echoes as the door bangs closed, and footsteps sound. After a minute, Michelle's voice calls out, "Hello?"<br/>
<br/>
"Over here, Michelle!" you call, and hold up your phone. She follows that dim lantern over, but says nothing even after she has joined you. She looks very wary and uncertain.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks for coming out," you tell her. "I know you probably didn't want to. But believe me, you're going to be <i>so glad</i> you did."<br/>
<br/>
"Kim said you wanted to talk to me," Michelle says. She is eyeing Number Three. "She didn't say anything about, um, Steve being here."<br/>
<br/>
"He had to be here. He's part of what we have to talk about, part of what I have to show you. But first— Have you ever heard of doppelgangers, Michelle?"<br/>
<br/>
She stares at you. "What? Well, yes," she adds when you repeat the word. "They're, like ... legendary creatures?"<br/>
<br/>
"They're doubles," you interrupt. "Twins, sort of. People, or things, that look exactly like other people." Michelle nods, mystified. "Well, Steve and Kim here are doppelgangers."<br/>
<br/>
You let the declaration hang in the air as Michelle glances between you and the others. "I don't understand," she finally says.<br/>
<br/>
"They're doppelgangers. These aren't the real Steve and Kim. Never mind what happened to the real Steve and Kim, but these aren't them. Haven't been them for, oh, about week now, I think? The guys <i>replaced</i> the real ones."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," Michelle says. She edges back a step.<br/>
<br/>
"I can tell you don't believe me. I wouldn't believe me in your place, either. But I can prove it. Because they're not just doppelgangers, they are my— Well, 'slaves' is such an ugly word. I call them doppelgangers, but in a sense they're more like magical robots. They're not real people, they're fake people, and they're under my control. They have to do everything I order them to. That's how come Kim asked you to come out here, I ordered her to. Isn't that right, Number Two?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's right, boss," the doppelganger replies tonelessly. Like Number Three, she has been staring mutely at Michelle.<br/>
<br/>
You're about to continue when Michelle bursts out with a nervous but angry laugh.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, Chelsea, this is hilarious. I know, Halloween's this Friday, and this is a prank. But what do you want?"<br/>
<br/>
"I want to show you I'm not joking, Michelle. Number Three, unbutton your jeans and pull them down. Number Two, suck off Number Three."<br/>
<br/>
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the two duplicates complying. But your concentration is on Michelle, who gasps in surprise. You step forward and seize her by the elbow before she can flee.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry, Michelle," you softly assure her. "No one's going to hurt you. I want to <i>help</i> you, in fact. I want you to be my partner!"<span class="QbcRddgOKK"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511111112111151
author_id: seuzz
title: Convincing Michelle
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>Kim Walsh is on her knees, her face pressed into the folds of Steve Patterson's boxer shorts. In the silence of the darkened school gym, the slurp and gurgle of her mouth and tongue as she pleasures his cock sound more loudly than one would think.<br/>
<br/>
But you're concentrating on Michelle Estrich, holding her by the elbow and wrist to stop her from fleeing.<br/>
<br/>
"Here, let's leave them to it," you tell her, and tug her from her rooted position, leading her over to the bleachers. "You don't need to watch that. Not if you don't want to," you can't help adding. "But the only reason I—"<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on?" she shrilly demands. "What are you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's what I'm explaining to you, Michelle," you assure her. "If you just keep very still and listen very quietly, I'll explain!" You sit on the lowest bleacher, and pull her down beside you. She sits very stiffly.<br/>
<br/>
"To start with," you say, "I suppose you've noticed what a shithole this school is. It's like cats in a sack. I know that <i>you've</i> gotten clawed a couple of times." If she recognizes this allusion to the way you chased her off the squad, she doesn't show it. "And it's because of the people in it. Well, not <i>all</i> the people, not even most of them. Most of us, you know, are just trying to get through it, have some fun, the usual. But there's some people, like Steve over there—well, not <i>him</i> over there, that's not Steve, I told you—but people like Steve who are real shits and who make the whole school a shithole all by themselves."<br/>
<br/>
You pause to let this sink in. Michelle is listening with an expression that is hard to read in the dark of the gym, and she says nothing.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that's where the doppelgangers come in. See—" You lean in close, conspiratorially. "I've been getting rid of some of the assholes— Well, not 'getting rid of', I don't want you think I'm, you know— But I've been getting them out of the way, and putting doppelgangers like Number Three over there in their place. I told you, they're like magic robots, and they have to do what I say. So Number Three over there has to do what I tell him, and that means that 'Steve Patterson'"—you hook some air quotes around the name—"is doing what I tell him. I've just got started"—you giggle—"but I've already got plans."<br/>
<br/>
There's now no mistaking how ill Michelle looks. But still she says nothing.<br/>
<br/>
"Now, here's the thing." You grasp Michelle's hand, and ignore the way she flinches. "I can't possibly run <i>everything</i> that needs running. That's why I need partners. Well, <i>a</i> partner," you quickly correct yourself. "A helper. Someone who can manage the doppelgangers with me, and help me out in other ways. The reason I chased you off the squad, Michelle," you confide, "is so that you could help me."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle blinks at this admission, then jerks back in surprise. "What?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure! I know you were miserable on the squad, and the best thing for you would have been for you to quit. But you're no quitter, I figured that out a long time ago. I've wanted to help you out by helping you <i>off</i> the squad for a very long time, but it wasn't until just recently, practically last week, that I knew I had to do it. It's part of making things better around here. I had to get Jack Li onto the squad—we need the diversity—and you were the natural one to, you know, go. I've been telling everyone how it was your idea, how you volunteered to step aside—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I don't want that," she blurts out.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't want people thinking good of you? Sorry, Michelle." You smirk "But <i>I</i> want people thinking good of you. But that's only one reason I took you off the squad. The main reason was so you could help me with <i>this!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
You point over to Numbers Two and Three. They have apparently finished, and are standing quietly side by side, watching you and Michelle. Number Three has at least shown enough initiative top pull his pants up again.<br/>
<br/>
"We couldn't partner while you were on the squad," you explain. "Everyone knows we don't get along, and we don't want people wondering how come we started. But with you off the squad, because you were helping out—" You beam. "Then it makes sense that we'd become friends! And with your help, making more doppelgangers, replacing people—"<br/>
<br/>
"This is a sick joke," she says, and stands.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not a <i>joke,</i> Michelle!" You catch her. "Didn't you see me order them to—? And they did?"<br/>
<br/>
"They're in on it," she sneers.<br/>
<br/>
You snort. "Steve, maybe. Except no, he wouldn't, because me and the real Steve hated each other's guts. But Kim? Do you think <i>Kim</i> would be in on a joke? You think she'd suck off Steve in order to <i>prank</i> you?"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle wavers, and squints over at the doppelgangers. "I don't know Kim."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, she <i>wouldn't.</i> And I think you <i>do</i> know Kim enough to know she wouldn't. No, that's not Kim. It's a double of her. A replacement."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle half turns toward you. "You're saying you replaced Kim with a doppelganger?"<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly, that's what I've been—!. Oh!" A penny drops. "You're wondering how come <i>Kim</i> got replaced. Because she's not a bitch and an asshole, like Steve? Is that what you're wondering, Michelle?" She says nothing. "Well, it's because she's student council president, but not a very good one. She's too nice, too soft. There's too many problems the real Kim could have handled, but didn't. The new one can. I didn't <i>want</i> to do it, but it had to be done."<br/>
<br/>
"Had to?"<br/>
<br/>
"If we want to fix the school."<br/>
<br/>
You've had to improvise this bit about Kim, and are silently kicking yourself for using Number Two instead of Number Four tonight, for Kelsey would be far more believable as the kind of bitch who needed to be replaced. But you needed Number Two to make the approach to Michelle.<br/>
<br/>
But, in a sense, what you've told her is true. The old Kim flinched from using her student council president powers. Number Two, you will make sure, won't.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle studies you, then snorts. "Unbelievable," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"I know it's hard to believe—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's that you—" She shakes her head. "You think I'd go for a freaking fairy tale like this. Or, even if I did believe you, that I'd want to—" She shudders all over.<br/>
<br/>
You hop to your feet. "You don't want to help?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! This is—! The whole idea—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Aren't there people you'd like to 'fix', Michelle?" you ask her softly. "People who've done you wrong? Besides me?" She glares at you. "People you'd like to get out of the way, replace with doubles who will do what you tell them, who'll help <i>you</i> to—"<br/>
<br/>
"How do you 'get people out of the way', Chelsea? I can't believe that even <i>you</i> would—"<br/>
<br/>
You gasp. "You think I'm <i>killing</i> them? Oh God, no, Michelle! If that's what's bothering you—! Listen, it's magic. And it isn't even permanent. You think I want or need a doppelganger of Steve Patterson running around after we all graduate? Or of Kim? No! This is just until the end of school. After that, we get rid of the doppelgangers and the real people come back, and everything goes back to normal!"<br/>
<br/>
She shakes her head. "Chelsea, I don't have time for—"<br/>
<br/>
You grab her before she can start to leave.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, I know it's hard to believe. But what would convince you? I know!" You lay a sly finger alongside your nose. "You name someone you would replace with a doppelganger. Just pretend, pretend we're playing Truth or Dare and you just picked 'Truth' and this is my question to you. Who would you replace with a doppelganger, to make your life better? To make <i>someone else's life</i> better. Because this isn't about fixing our own lives. It's about helping people who need help. Protection from the horrible people." You grin at her. "Go on. Truth. Who deserves to be replaced, just for a few months, until school is over?"<br/>
<br/>
She wavers on her feet, and glances past you at the doppelgangers behind you. She sighs and mutters to herself. Then, when she says, "Why?" you know the battle is ninety percent won.<br/>
<br/>
"So I can <i>show</i> you I'm telling the truth. By making a doppelganger of them!"<br/>
<br/>
She wavers some more, then hardens.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," she says, and there's a hard, skeptical challenge in her voice. "Christina Miles."<br/>
<br/>
You feel your face fall. "Who's she?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's in the junior class. She plays tennis, and she's going out with the junior class president."<br/>
<br/>
"Hmm. That isn't exactly what I had in mind, but— Okay!"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay what?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll do it. Come out here tomorrow night, same time as tonight, and I'll have Christine and I'll replace her with a doppelganger. Right in front of you!"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle stares. Then she says, "Okay. Do it."<br/>
<br/>
"I will."<br/>
<br/>
"I want to record it on my phone, if you do."<br/>
<br/>
You catch your breath. <i>Photographic evidence? That's a bad idea.</i> Then you relax and grin. "Sure thing." After all, you reflect, if you get Michelle on your side, she'll understand that she'll have to get rid of the evidence. And if you don't get her on your side ... Well, you'll just have to make another doppelganger.<br/>
<br/>
"Christine Miles," you murmur to yourself as you enter a note into your phone. "Tennis, dating junior class prez. Interesting. You care about the junior class?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's where my friends are."<br/>
<br/>
"Really! Well, you're going to have more, up in the senior class. But we'll talk about this tomorrow. What?" you add, for Michelle is looking at you with a derisive expression.<br/>
<br/>
"I just can't believe you, Chelsea," she says. "Any of it."<br/>
<br/>
You dimple at her. "That's because you think you're talking to Chelsea Cooper. But you're not. I'm another doppelganger!"<br/>
<span class="QbcRddgOKK"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111111121111511
author_id: seuzz
title: Some Slick Dance Moves
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span><i>I'm not really Chelsea Cooper. I'm another doppelganger!</i><br/>
<br/>
Your confession shocks even you—it just came blurting out! But Michelle looks non-plussed.<br/>
<br/>
You quickly recover from your own surprise, and start to understand the ploy your subconscious—or whatever is driving you—made even as you start explaining it to Michelle.<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't really think <i>Chelsea Cooper,</i> of all people, gives a shit about you, did you, Michelle? Chelsea's a cunt, and she never liked you, even when she even bothered to think of you at all. I got rid of her— Okay, like I said, I don't 'get rid of' people, I just get them out of the way so I can take over. But I got rid of Chelsea because the bitch deserved it." You snicker. "And because she's very useful for the scheme. Between her and Kim, they're the bad cop/good cops who can run the school."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle is starting to look like she's got a migraine. "Whatever, Chelsea," she says, "I—"<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, I'm not Chelsea. I'm not even a doppelganger, really. Not like Number Two and Number Three over there. But it's part of the magic. You can use it to make a doppelganger, or you can change <i>yourself</i> into a doppelganger of someone. That's what I did with Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. So who are you really?" Michelle's tone is very dry.<br/>
<br/>
"Never mind who. I don't think you ever heard of me. I'm just ... someone in the senior class, who knows what it's like to have the Chelseas—and the Steves and the Gordons and the Kendras and all the other— <i>God I hate this place!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
A fury seems to erupt out of you, and you can't stanch it, even as it drives Michelle to take a step back.<br/>
<br/>
"God, this fucking school! This fucking town! I hate them! I hate Chelsea, I hate Patterson, I hate Kirkham and Kelsey and Anthony Kirk and ... and ... ! All so fucking stuck on themselves, and still they go around trying to fuck other people up! Fuck! That bitch Kelsey and that twat Mansfield! And Kim, and the administration, they don't <i>do</i> anything about it! The goddamn basketball team and the stuck-up bitches and cunts who won't— Who don't—!" You start to hiccup. "But I can— can—! <i>Hic!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
The storm recedes, though it leaves you trembling all over and fighting to recompose yourself.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, there!" you snarl. "Maybe that'll fucking convince you I'm on the level! Would Chelsea—? Shit, you really don't have any idea what a cunt she is. So many fucking plots and schemes, against people she doesn't even know! What I did to you yesterday morning—<i>Huk!</i>—I was thinking with her brain when I did it, 'cept I wanted it for something else. What I told you, how I wanted you off the squad, so we could work together. Please, Michelle! We don't know each other, but I want your help! I can't do it by myself, but we can—<i>Hok!</i>—fix things so people like you and me, we aren't going around getting kicked in the teeth. So we can get a little respect! For us and our friends—!" You dig the heels of your hands into your eyes, and snuffle back your running nose as the hiccups finally subside.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle has been standing frozen and silent through this tirade. After a long moment, though, she finally speaks. "You say you can prove all this?" You nod. "Can you prove it right now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tomorrow night I can. With that girl you told me about. Christine."<br/>
<br/>
A wary silence ensues. Then Michelle says, "I'll come back tomorrow, then. But I want to bring someone with me."<br/>
<br/>
"Christine?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, a friend."<br/>
<br/>
"Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because that's the only way I'm coming back."<br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
She hesitates. "I have to decide."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I have to decide if I'll let you bring them."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle regards you. "Then I guess we'll talk about it later."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess we will." You are feeling much calmer now. "Thanks for coming out and listening, anyway. Oh, and Michelle. Obviously you're not going to tell anyone about this."<br/>
<br/>
She snorts, softly. "No one would believe me."<br/>
<br/>
<i>They'd believe it if you told them Chelsea Cooper had a psychotic breakdown,</i> you think at her retreating back.<br/>
<br/>
After she's gone, you return to the doppelgangers. "That was quite a show you put on, boss," Number Three says. "I liked the way it started. With me and Number Two."<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you would."<br/>
<br/>
"Was all that you told her true?" Number Two asks. "About how you hate the school, and we're supposed to—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be stupid. That was just a story for her. She needed to be convinced because we need her help." You are completely numb as you speak, and yet you have the feeling that way down deep, where you can't feel them, you are being roiled with emotions. "Thanks for you help. I'll need you up here again tomorrow night," you tell Number Three. "Make sure you give Gordon a distraction. And I need to know who Christine Miles is," you tell Number Two. "We need her up here tomorrow night."<br/>
<br/>
"I know her," Number Two says. "I can work it."<br/>
<br/>
"Good. You can both go now."<br/>
<br/>
You pace the darkness with downcast eyes after they are gone, for longer than you know. You are not aware of any thoughts, but you are sure that someone is having them. But only vaguely do you wonder why he is not sharing them with you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Coach Tesla calls you into her office the next morning, as you are crossing the gym floor: she was watching for you from the doorway that leads to the classrooms and offices under the gym mezzanine.<br/>
<br/>
"What is going on with the squad?" she demands in a haggard voice. "Yumi Saito—"<br/>
<br/>
"Did she quit the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
The coach blinks. "Yes! This morning, she—"<br/>
<br/>
"I was pretty sure she would. She made a dramatic scene yesterday in the changing room, and I told her I didn't appreciate it."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, what is going on? First Michelle, now Yumi—"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm cleaning out the troublemakers. I haven't been wanting to bother you, Coach, because I know you don't want to deal with it." <i>You'd much rather spend the time in your office getting drunk,</i> you silently add, <i>because your life is off the rails.</i> "So I haven't bothered to tell you about the drama. But I'm taking care of it now. I've got someone lined up to take Yumi's place."<br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"I have to talk to her first, but don't worry, I've got a candidate list as long as my arm."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, if parents start calling me up and complaining—"<br/>
<br/>
"They won't, Coach. Michelle wanted to leave the squad, and Yumi won't complain because she knows she was in the wrong."<br/>
<br/>
The coach gives you a look "I just hope you know what you're doing, Chelsea. You know, when we talked about this at the start of the year—"<br/>
<br/>
"It's all under control, Coach. I promise. Have you had any complaints so far?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," she says, but sounds wary.<br/>
<br/>
"There, you see! You don't even <i>know</i> what's been going on, and I promise you it's actually a lot better now than it was. So there's nothing to worry about!" You dimple at her. "Anything else?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not for right now," she grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks! And I'm serious. Don't worry!" You bounce to your feet and with a toss of your hair exit the office.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
In fact, things are far from being smooth. That snap vote yesterday was a nasty surprise, for you were expecting it to come only after Jack had joined the squad, when you could have stage-managed it better. You had failed to catch how, with Michelle off the squad, Cindy and her gang could with Kendra's vote have gotten the two-thirds majority they needed to sack you as squad captain. But, thanks to quick thinking and Yumi's jumping the gun, you were able to bluff and baffle them. In fact, almost everything you spewed at them yesterday about procedure was bullshit you made up on the spot. But once Jack is on the squad, it'll be too late for them to do anything about it.<br/>
<br/>
"Is everyone set to show up this afternoon after school?" you ask the other seven girls when you are assembled on the floor. "Good! We'll have to meet in the Annex 'cos the basketball squads need the gym then, but that's okay. It's basically going to be a dance class, and that's where dance classes meet. Are you going to be okay with that, Lin? Those two left feet of yours not gonna have a problem? Okay, now let's show some hustle today!"<br/>
<br/>
It's during seventh-period Dance class that you actually set things up for the first after-school practice, when you call Number Seven over to the side when class is over.<br/>
<br/>
"So, don't forget you're staying after today to start showing us some of those awesome dance moves you've got!" you gush at him.<br/>
<br/>
"I won't," says the Jack Li clone, blushing with the same pleasure as the original probably would have. "I've already got some ideas—"<br/>
<br/>
"And so have I. Not about dance steps, but for the squad. You heard how Yumi quit?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." His expression falters.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, there's another big change coming. I'm stepping down as squad captain."<br/>
<br/>
Now he looks started. "What?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. I figure, with the new concentration on dance steps over gymnastics that we want, that <i>you</i> should be squad captain!"<br/>
<br/>
He stares at you. Then, through a frozen jaw, he mutters, "You serious, boss?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm totally serious, Jack! I'm stepping down as squad captain, and we'll vote you in as the new captain this afternoon! And after that—" Steel enters your voice. "You will appoint me as vice-captain, in charge of morning practice, routines, and recruitment."<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever you say, boss."<br/>
<br/>
"Excellent! Oh, Jack!" You give him a quick, tight hug. "We really are going places!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Eighth period.</i> As you wait for Kendra and Gloria, you get two good pieces of news: Number Two texts to say that Christine Miles will meet you this evening up at the gym. The better news comes from Michelle, who says she will <i>not</i> be bringing a friend tonight but will be coming alone.<span class="QbcRddgOKK"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122111355313111212111151151111111211115111
author_id: seuzz
title: Something Like a Boss
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>The mood of the squad when it gathers after school in the dance studio is muted but not as sullen as it was in the morning. Number Seven, if he notices the mood, doesn't show it. But Jack Li probably would have tried not to show it either.<br/>
<br/>
Once everyone is assembled, you make the introductions. There's not much reaction to Jack—it's been an open secret for days now that he would be joining the squad—and all the concentration is on you. After you've got everyone's attention, you drop the bombshell.<br/>
<br/>
"Jack's joining the squad is a huge deal for us," you tell everyone. "I want us to change the entire direction we've been taking things, more away from the gymnastic stuff and more to a dance thing. That's why I wanted Jack to join the squad, and that's how come"—you reach out to tickle his tummy with a claw-like hand—"I wouldn't let him say 'no'."<br/>
<br/>
Number Seven smiles with self-deprecation.<br/>
<br/>
"And in fact, we're changing the focus so much that I don't feel like I'm the one to who should be leading us anymore. We still want some of the gymnastics stuff, but it needs to be integrated into the dance routines and moves Jack will be teaching us. So, since the basic planning will be <i>his</i> job, he's the one who's going to be in charge." Per your instructions to him, Number Seven looks startled, as do the girls. "So, as squad captain, I am officially calling a meeting to order, and the first business is my resignation as squad captain." You fake a sniff of sadness. "And the second order of business is to open the floor to nominations for a new captain, and I nominate Jack." You step back and applaud while beaming at Number Seven.<br/>
<br/>
He is doing a good job of looking baffled and wrong-footed, just like you told him to be, and as he stammers uncertainly you surreptitiously nudge Gloria. "I second the nomination," she calls out. You give Kendra and Maria—who, like Gloria, you warned ahead of time of what would be afoot—a sharp glance, and they join you and Kendra in applauding Jack.<br/>
<br/>
"I, uh, this— I didn't expect—"<br/>
<br/>
"You're not gonna turn us down, are you, Jack?" You dimple at him.<br/>
<br/>
"Um—"<br/>
<br/>
"Any other nominations?" You turn to stare hard at Cindy.<br/>
<br/>
She is looking even more wrong-footed than Number Seven, and looks between you and Jack and the other girls with baffled confusion. She swallows a couple of times, and glances uneasily at her friends and allies, of which she now has only three: Eva and Jessica Garner, and Lin Pol. The Garners look as confused as she does; Lin studies you with a hooded gaze.<br/>
<br/>
The moment hangs, then breaks when Cindy's eyes fall to the floor. "No?" you ask. "Then I move that Jack be elected squad captain by unanimous acclimation!" Again, you and your friends applaud him lustily. The others hang back until Cindy listlessly begins clapping, then first the Garners, and finally Lin, join in.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Jack makes a sheepish speech of acceptance, promises to do his best, then spends the rest of class showing everyone the basic dance steps he wants you all to learn, and practices them with you. At the end of class you pull him aside—in the front of the room, so everyone can see—and offer to meet with him to talk about how to make the "transition" from one administration to the next. Of course, he gratefully accepts. But when you do send him a text, it's only to remind him of the instructions you gave him earlier about where and how to appoint you as vice-captain.<br/>
<br/>
You wonder if Cindy and her friends—who will surely be meeting (probably with Yumi, too) to discuss today's plot twist—fully grasp or anticipate your plan. Though it will look like a demotion to them, they won't be able to spin it, even to themselves, as a defeat for you, because you're the one who made the move. Nor will they be able to plot so openly against Jack as they could against you, not with you (and others) being able to play the "homophobia" card against them on social media if they do. Yumi won't be able to make a stink either, because you are out as team captain.<br/>
<br/>
But with you, as vice-captain, running things in the morning when Jack isn't around, it will be just like it was before, and the position of vice-captain will be <i>almost</i> as prestigious as the captaincy. And your own personal prestige may actually be augmented because of the way you so graciously stepped aside to let Jack take over.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Michelle, to your surprise when she arrives at the gym at a little after seven, wants to talk about the day's doings on the squad.<br/>
<br/>
"That doesn't matter," you sniff. "That's just me taking some of the piss out of Chelsea. And it fits with the story I got Kendra and Gloria peddling, right? About how you quit the squad to make room for Jack? So that'll help <i>you</i> out some." You look her up and down. "Though maybe you won't care. Like, if I'm impersonating Chelsea for the rest of the year, maybe you'll wanna impersonate someone else? Well, that's something to talk about later. First of all, I need to explain to you what's going to happen when Christine gets here."<br/>
<br/>
You have a mask and the rest of the supplies you'll need, drawn from the stash at the community center. You briefly explain what's going to happen and how it's going to happen. But before you get to the most important part, you stop to ask Michelle if she's feeling alright, because she's looking pale, and she keeps rubbing her arm.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," she confesses. "I mean— Yeah, I'm fine." She straightens herself up. "I was just thinking how I didn't believe you or any of this—" She casts an uneasy glance at Number Three, who has been standing rigid and mute behind you. She makes a face. "But if this is a prank you're taking it pretty far." Her glance turns suspicious. "But I still don't believe it."<br/>
<br/>
"That's okay, Michelle, I get it. Chelsea didn't believe it either, until she saw it. But don't worry about her, here's the most important part. I wrote it down for you." You hand her the paper you composed before she arrived.<br/>
<br/>
It's a longish paragraph, a version of the speech you give each doppelganger when it wakes up. Statements, orders, questions to test whether it understands. "You'll have to read this to the doppelganger after we make it," you explain. "And you need to mean it, Michelle, when you say it. You can't just mumble this stuff at them. You have to make them believe you mean business. So try it out on me. Read it to me."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle takes the paper while giving you a wary glance. "Listen to me you believe everything I tell you to believe," she reads off tonelessly.<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Mean it,</i> Michelle."<br/>
<br/>
"Listen to me, you believe—"<br/>
<br/>
You snatch the paper back and give her a hard look. "Listen! To me!" you snap at her. "You believe everything I tell you to believe." Michelle blinks. "Your name is A-Two. You are not Michelle Estrich. You were never Michelle Estrich. You are nobody and nothing."<br/>
<br/>
You hold the paper out to her. "Now you try. Read it at me. With my name, not this Christine's name. Like you're trying to <i>make</i> me do it."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle flushes. "Listen to me," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"More!"<br/>
<br/>
"Listen to me! You believe everything I tell you to believe. Your name is—" She can't stop herself from swallowing. "A-Two. You are not ... Chelsea Cooper."<br/>
<br/>
"Start over!"<br/>
<br/>
"Listen to me! You believe everything I tell you to believe! Your name is A-Two. You are not Chelsea Cooper. You were never Chelsea Cooper. You are nobody and nothing!"<br/>
<br/>
"Passable. Now keep going, keep the momentum up."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"... you will be Christine Miles. You will act like Christine Miles. Her friends, her family, everyone will believe you are Christine Miles because you will act just like her in front of them. Her life is yours. From now on you, you will be her."<br/>
<br/>
The new doppelganger—A-Two—wears a bright but slightly glazed smile as she listens intently to her new mistress, and when Michelle says, "Are you ready to go out and be her?" she replies, "Absolutely, boss!"<br/>
<br/>
Christine Miles, when she arrived, proved to be a skinny girl with long, kinky brown hair and a pronounced overbite, giving her a squirrel- or beaver-like demeanor. But she's pretty, and there's a lot of personality in her face. The doppelganger, after passing through a brief period of dull docility, has come to life again with all the quick, alert life of the original.<br/>
<br/>
The real acted curious and enthusiastic when she arrived. "So, hey, I'm Christine," she said after joining you in the middle of the gym. "And you're Chelsea, I recognized you," she added with a silly giggle. "Hey Michelle." Her eyes darted between you and the other girl, and you could see her trying to figure out how come Michelle, after leaving the squad, should be hanging out with the squad captain.<br/>
<br/>
She didn't have a chance to say anything else, though, before you ordered Number Three to grab her, and then ordered Michelle to shove the mask into the girl's face. You'd had to say it twice, the second time in a sharp yell, before she moved. She seemed horror-struck as Number Three laid the unconscious girl onto the gym floor.<br/>
<br/>
That was when she finally started to believe you. Her hands trembled as she picked the mask up again on its reappearance, and applied the layers to the inner surface. You had to trim the hair from her head, and fire it for her.<br/>
<br/>
But the twenty minutes of practice you forced on her weren't wasted. As soon as A-Two opened her eyes, Michelle was on her like a boss.<br/>
<br/>
Like the boss she now is.<br/>
<br/>
"So that's the first one," you tell her as the two doppelgangers stand at attention nearby. "I'm going to let you have five more. And of those five, I'm going to let <i>you</i> pick out—"<span class="QbcRddgOKK"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511111112111151112
author_id: seuzz
title: Ian Patton
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>This is the placeholder for a poll. For details, see: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/polls/item_id/2297706-BoM-Poll-Pick-a-Path" target="_top" title="Where does this branch of the story go from here?">BoM Poll: Pick a Path</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/polls/item_id/2297706-BoM-Poll-Pick-a-Path" target="_blank" title="Where does this branch of the story go from here?"><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a>.<br/>
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path: 113122111355313111212111151151111111211115111211
author_id: seuzz
id: E6H9V9HN5
title: Comes a Storm
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"I am nobody. I am nothing," Kendra Saunders. Her expression is empty but her gaze is alert, so that she seems to be drinking in the instructions, or feeding on them.<br/>
<br/>
"I made you from fire and ash," Michelle says. "What are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I am nothing," Kendra firmly replies, "made from fire and ash."<br/>
<br/>
"Your purpose is to serve me. You have no other desire. You are my slave. What are you, and why are you here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I am your slave. I was made to serve you."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle's face is pale and haggard. Her voice trembles. From fear? From loathing? From desire? From a mix of all three? It's hard to tell. But she looks like a girl who is gobbling down a meal because she is starving, yet is nauseated by every bite. "Who are you?" she concludes in a harsh, croaking voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I am A-Three," says the new doppelganger, who looks exactly like the former Kendra Saunders.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle glances at the paper she's been reading from, and some of the sickness drains from her expression as she looks back up at A-Three. "I have given you Kendra Saunders' face and form and life, her memories and—"<br/>
<br/>
But though you have been watching a listening attentively to Michelle, missing no shade of detail or inflection, none of it really sticks. You feel the vacancy of your own mind as you stand, unmoving, beside Number Three.<br/>
<br/>
"—she had is now yours. Everything she was, you are. So, who are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I am A-Three."<br/>
<br/>
"But what is your name?"<br/>
<br/>
The doppelganger smiles. "My name is Kendra Saunders." Her gaze turns smug.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle sighs, and most of the tension seems to evaporate off her. But there is still a quaver in her voice as she turns to you and Number Three.<br/>
<br/>
"This is Number One and Number Three," she tells the new Kendra. "They are doppelgangers like you, and they serve me like you serve me. You will help them, and they will help you." A-Three's nose seems to quiver a little as she regards you with calm speculation. "When we are all together, don't act like Kendra, act like yourself, like, um, A-Three. But when anyone else is around, you and Number One and Number Three will act like the people you are pretending to be."<br/>
<br/>
"I understand, boss."<br/>
<br/>
"Good. Do you have any questions?" Michelle looks like she's going to faint on her feet.<br/>
<br/>
A-Three glances between you and Number Three. "Is there a Number Two?"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle, panic in her eyes, looks at you. "Kim Walsh," you answer for her, "is Number Two. Christine Miles is A-Two."<br/>
<br/>
"Is there an A-One?"<br/>
<br/>
"The boss hasn't told me. I think she's keeping it a secret." <br/>
<br/>
Michelle nods when A-Three looks at her. "I'll tell you when it's time," she says, and sways on her feet.. "Okay, what are you going to do now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever you order me to, boss," A-Three says.<br/>
<br/>
"I mean—"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea and Kendra, and Steve," you jump in, "were going to Sophie van den Berg's party tonight. If you want us to resume their lives ..." You trail off.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, do that," Michelle says. For the first time, she seems to notice that Kendra is dressed like Storm from the <i>X-Men</i> movies. "When you leave here, just do whatever Kendra would have done—"<br/>
<br/>
"Except," you interrupt with a pointed smirk, "she shouldn't say anything about now being a doppelganger, or coming up here tonight. Right, boss?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right." Michelle is starting to look ill again. "You can all go now. Er, if you have any questions, um, A-Three—" She pauses. "You can ask Number One. She's the first, um, doppelganger I made. She knows how to do things."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure thing, boss," A-Three says. She casts a veiled but amused glance at you and Number Three.<br/>
<br/>
"I had something I wanted to talk to you about, boss," you tell Michelle. "But I think A-Three and Number Three can go ahead to the party," you add.<br/>
<br/>
Relief floods Michelle's face.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. A-Three, Number Three, go on and go to the ... party." With a quick flick of the hand she shoos at them. A-Three strides off for the side door; Number Three looks at you, and doesn't follow until you give him a small nod. <br/>
<br/>
When they are gone, Michelle collapses onto a nearby bleacher. "Oh, God," she groans.<br/>
<br/>
"You did great," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm so stressed out!" She puts her face between her knees. "What am I doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're helping make the school a better place." You gently stroke her hair. "Kendra is a rat and a snake, but she's smart. She hurt so many people. But now she'll <i>help</i> instead. A-Three will use her brain for good."<br/>
<br/>
"It still feels like—"<br/>
<br/>
"Shh. It's okay. It's only for a year. Not even year, just six or seven months."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle's expression is clouded with doubt. "Well," she mumbles, "I guess it could work."<br/>
<br/>
"Trust me. We'll talk about how we can use A-Two and A-Three to help you and your friends. We can do that tomorrow. Are you going to a party tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
"What? Oh." She winces. "I was going to, at Alexis's. But I don't feel like—"<br/>
<br/>
"I think you should go. Hang out with your friends. Remember how much you love them, and how you're doing all this for them."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle gives you a shaky assurance that that's what she'll do, but even if she does go out—which you doubt—you're pretty sure she won't stay long. You tell her to call you tomorrow. "We'll meet, up here or someplace else," you say, and accompany her out.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson's car is still parked by the gym, but Number Three doesn't climb out until Michelle has driven away. "Tonight was kind of a surprise, boss," he says. "What was all that in there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Making things easy for Michelle. She's going to be another 'boss', like me. Except she's a junior partner. We need to make it easy for her and her team to ... coordinate ... with us. So around A-Two and A-Three, we are going to pretend that Michelle is our boss. <i>Pretend,</i>" you repeat with emphasis.<br/>
<br/>
"Is Michelle a doppelganger too?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not yet, not technically."<br/>
<br/>
"Do you want me and A-Three to spend tomorrow night up in the loft? Or not?"<br/>
<br/>
The question jars you, and it takes you a moment find your footing.<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever," you reply, wondering why Number Three would even suggest such a thing. "Act like your originals when you're around other people. What you do when it's just you two ... That's up to you."<br/>
<br/>
"Understood. Am I going to see you out at Sophie's?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. I need to be fashionably late, of course. And I need to find Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
"It's going to be interesting, him and A-Three, considering what he was planning to do with Kendra after he dumped you."<br/>
<br/>
"That's <i>why</i> Kendra is one of us now." You smile. "See you at Sophie's, Steve."<br/>
<br/>
"See you at Sophie's, Chels," he replies, and his tone turns characteristically icy as he says it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Maybe the cheerleader squad shakeup has changed Gordon's life plans—insofar as the fake Gordon can have "life plans"—but he doesn't buck when you call to remind him that you're supposed to go out together to Sophie's place. He isn't happy about it either, but he's always a mule when it comes to going out and doing things. He picks you up at your house at a little before nine. Like Steve, he didn't come to school in any kind of costume, and he's not wearing one now. (The letterman jacket doesn't count.)<br/>
<br/>
The van den Bergs are old city money and old city power, and though they seem to have fallen on hardish times lately, they still live in the ancestral house on Borman Road, just across the street from the college. It's a big, rambling, nineteenth-century monster with three stories, half a dozen gables, a couple of chimneys and cupolas, and a tower, all wrapped with a covered porch and spackled with gingerbread. Except for the yard and grounds being nicely tended behind a tall, wrought-iron fence, it would be a perfect haunted house.<br/>
<br/>
Which is maybe why the family has gone out of its way for as long as you've known Sophie to host a kick-ass Halloween party every year. The street is crammed up and down both sides with cars, and the party has spilled out into the yard with knots of kids hanging out drinking and eating and laughing and flirting.<br/>
<br/>
Inside, the house is dark and moody, with ceiling decorations lit with black light, and low, grinding, death metal music rumbling along under the buzz and chatter of conversation. You keep your arm tight around Gordon so as not to lose him as you push your way through the crowds, touching and screaming with delight each time you bump into someone that you know. It isn't long before you are drunk on an electric buzz of talk, snacks, wine coolers, and company.<br/>
<br/>
"—we're gonna kick so much ass since adding Jack to the squad," you're chattering at Catherine Muskov, who foreswore a party of her own to come to this one. "He's already showing us these new steps, they're—" You start to demonstrate, and almost fling your drink all over Catherine's boyfriend, who's squeezed up close to her. "Anyway, trust me, I—"<br/>
<br/>
You're interrupted by a touch at the elbow, and turn. It's Kendra, grinning meaningfully at you. "Be right back," you tell Catherine, whose smile is maybe one of relief.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra pulls you up the stairs and down a hallway and into a little nook lined with shelves where you can talk without being overheard. "Great party, huh?" she says. You nod impatiently. She lowers her voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I just saw Chris Love macking on Danielle Davis," she says. When you stare at her, she adds, a little uncertainly, "The boss wants us to act normal here, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Right."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay." She looks relieved. "Well, so, you know that Chris'll fuck anything, right?<br/>
<br/>
"Well, he's not one of the <i>wrestlers,</i> but—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God, no." Kendra makes a face. "But I was thinking, if we set it up right, Chris and the boss could—" She grins. "Or at least we could <i>say</i>—"<span class="fngigffkfmk3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511111112111151112114
author_id: seuzz
id: DVTXYYCZL
title: Of Fakes and Feelings
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>A-Three's suggestion shocks you: It sounds like the kind of cruel prank that Kendra would have proposed.<br/>
<br/>
Of course, A-Three does look exactly like Kendra (or, rather, like Kendra in a Storm costume) and has been instructed to act like her original. But this feels like plotting behind her boss's back.<br/>
<br/>
It makes you queasy: Are Numbers Two through Seven (and maybe even Number Six?!) doing the same thing to you?<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think that's a good idea," you tell A-Three. "I think we should leave those decisions to the boss. Something like that might hurt her," you pointedly add.<br/>
<br/>
"It depends on how we do it," A-Three says. <br/>
<br/>
She lightly grips your elbow.<br/>
<br/>
"It's exactly the kind of thing Kendra and Chelsea would have done to the boss," she says in a near whisper, "so it would be completely in character for us. But we could push it in a way that helps her. A good rumor about the boss's sex life could get her noticed by the right kind of guy."<br/>
<br/>
Again, you're given pause, but now in a positive way. <i>Yes, I can see that,</i> you think. <i>A rumor that backfires on the girls spreading the rumor by actually helping its target!</i><br/>
<br/>
Still, you decide not to follow up, at least not right now.<br/>
<br/>
"Let me talk to the boss first," you tell A-Three. "I'll be seeing her tomorrow. It might mess something up if we did a thing like that without consulting her first." A-Three nods.<br/>
<br/>
"Now let's get back in circulation," you tell her, and glance her up and down. "Chris Ratliff was looking at you earlier like you're a double bacon-cheeseburger and a stack of onion rings."<br/>
<br/>
Kendra smirks appreciatively at you, and straightens her costume.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The downside to Sophie's parties are that, being parent-hosted, they always end before midnight, and you and Gordon depart early. There is some talk, before you go, of meeting up with Steve and another girl—someone from Eastman, you think; anyway, Number Three has got her tightly gripped in the crook of his arm, and he keeps drunkenly kissing the side of her head—at the school, but you primly tell Steve that he and his date probably want to be alone with each other. (She looks a little ill after you say that.) The ride away from Sophie's, in Gordon's Bug, is very quiet.<br/>
<br/>
"Pookie," you finally ask, "are you mad at me for quitting as head cheerleader?"<br/>
<br/>
You sense him looking at you sidelong. "It's your business," he gruffly replies.<br/>
<br/>
"But you're not dating the head cheerleader anymore. Doesn't that gut you? Even a little bit?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's your business," he repeats.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," you observe after a moment's thought, "you could still date the squad captain if you wanted to. I bet Jack would go for you."<br/>
<br/>
The explosion on the other side of the car cabin makes you jerk with surprise.<br/>
<br/>
<i>"Yeah, and what the fucking Christ is that all about?"</i> Gordon shouts. "That little Chinese fucking homo? And it was <i>your fucking idea?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"I did it for the good of the squad!" you squeal.<br/>
<br/>
"And <i>who the fuck</i> are me and Steve and the rest of the guys supposed to look? That prancing faggot leading a routine?"<br/>
<br/>
"You could look at me," you coldly retort.<br/>
<br/>
"I could look at you before! Now I gotta look past his pansy ass—"<br/>
<br/>
"Cut it out, Gordon! For a start, you're talking like a, a homophobic bigot! And if it ever got out, the things you're saying, what you're thinking—"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't start that with me, Chelsea. That's got nothing to do with—"<br/>
<br/>
"Then why do you care? Second of all—"<br/>
<br/>
You have to touch the corners of your eyes, to push back the flood of tears that is threatening to burst out.<br/>
<br/>
"Second of all," you continue in a voice that gets huskier and huskier with choked emotion, "it was the only way I could stay on the squad at all!"<br/>
<br/>
Gordon whips his head around. "The fuck are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
Now it's your turn to explode.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know fucking shit about the squad, Gordon! I tell you and tell you, and I explain, and it's all in one ear and out the other! You <i>never</i> pay attention to me or my problems, to what's going on in my life, or— Or—! Oh, <i>fuck you, you cheesehead!</i> Lemme out!"<br/>
<br/>
You're stopped at an intersection, but Gordon grabs to stop you from leaping out the car, and hooks a vicious right-turn into the parking lot of a convenience store. You sob into the crook of your elbow as he kills the engine.<br/>
<br/>
At least he gives you time to let it all pour out before he starts pressing you. Between hiccups you tell him to fuck himself, but with an iron-hard patience he holds you and waits until you have calmed down enough to tell him about the squad's myriad traumas.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh," he says when you've done explaining how the others were plotting to get rid of you, and the only way you could survive was by bringing Jack in and making him captain, to protect you. "I had no idea."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, bullshit,</i> you seethe to yourself. <i>You knew what Kendra was plotting, Number Three told me so! And you were going to dump me for her after she pulled it off!</i><br/>
<br/>
"Well," he concludes, "I still don't like him being on the squad. But I am glad you're still there too."<br/>
<br/>
He squeezes your knee. "You know, uh, it's been a long time since we—"<br/>
<br/>
"Steve has the loft tonight," you coldly remind him, "with that girl. Remember? Just take me home, Gordon, I'm getting a migraine. We'll talk tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
He sulks the rest of the drive back to your house.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * * *</div><br/>
That talk with Gordon surprises you, from two directions. The first is the fact that you even tried talking to him like you were still boyfriend and girlfriend. <i>It must be Chelsea's instincts,</i> you coolly reflect the next morning (a Saturday) as you drive up early to the school. <i>It's the kind of talk she would have had with him if all this had been real.</i><br/>
<br/>
But what of Gordon? Or the Gordon doppelganger, since that's what he is. Was he just "being in character" too? He doesn't have anyone to give him orders, not since you got rid of the real Chelsea, so is he just on autopilot? Or are those emotions real? You have to tell your own doppelgangers how to act; is the Gordon duplicate just acting on instinct, or does it have real emotions?<br/>
<br/>
You don't know how to answer that question. But maybe it's not important.<br/>
<br/>
You hope it's not important.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson's car is at the gym, and he's sinking three-pointers when you enter. His gaze is calm but slightly quizzical when he glances back at you. "S'up, boss?" he asks after sinking another shot. He lets the ball bounce away.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm meeting Michelle up here in a little while, but I have a job for you. By the way, how was your date last night?"<br/>
<br/>
"Messy. I cleaned up after us, though."<br/>
<br/>
"Who was she? Anyone important?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know what you mean by important. I think she was trying to make another guy jealous. It seemed in character to take advantage of the situation."<br/>
<br/>
You nod. "It won't complicate things if you and A-Three go to the Donna this afternoon, will it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think I'm supposed to run errands for Patterson's dad. But what's the job?"<br/>
<br/>
His gaze goes blank as you explain, but he instantly returns to focus when you're done.<br/>
<br/>
"If I get started early," he says, "I should be able to make it out there. But it would be better if I knew what time to be there."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll have Number Four text you." As though on cue, your own phone dings with a text from Michelle, telling you that she has arrived. "You can hang out in the loft until she's gone," you tell Number Three.<br/>
<br/>
He shakes his head and trots over to collect the basketball. "I should get started on the things for Patterson's dad."<br/>
<br/>
Then he pauses after scooping up the ball, and gives you a hooded look. "Are we going to replace any adults? Teachers, parents?"<br/>
<br/>
"Eventually," you tell him, though the thought had not occurred to you.<br/>
<br/>
He nods. "Patterson's father would be a good one," he says. "He knows a lot of important people."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll keep that in mind," you tell him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
He and Michelle meet at the door as she's coming in and he's going out. It amuses you a little to see him turn to scope out her ass before letting the door close.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God!" you exclaim as Michelle approaches. "A-Three and I had the best time at Sophie's party last night!" But your mood changes when Michelle only smiles wanly at you. "What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing," she says. "I'm still just ... getting used to all this."<br/>
<br/>
"It's all for the best." You catch her in a loose embrace, and even smooch her in the crook of her neck. She goes taut all over, but you ignore it, and pull her over to the nearest bleachers.<br/>
<br/>
"Now, we've got two of your three choices in place," you remind her. "Christine and Kendra. You get one more."<br/>
<br/>
"And you get three more, right?" she says. Her face is gray.<br/>
<br/>
"But you can veto anyone I pick," you remind her. "But do you have your third in mind?"<br/>
<br/>
Her lips disappear and she turns away. It's some minutes before she can, mutely and haltingly, share her thoughts.<br/>
<br/>
They are—as they would be—for the benefit of her friends. Kennedy Palmer and Naomi Batson are gossips and queen bees of the same type as Christine Miles, who have made life hard for her girlfriends. Diego Rojas and Ryder Hillberger are JV athletes who make things hard for her boyfriends.<br/>
<br/>
The fifth is the one Michelle hesitates over: Roberta Barr. She's someone whose friendship Michelle confesses to craving, but who for some reason holds herself mysteriously aloof.<br/>
<br/>
None of these names mean much to you, but after talking them over with Michelle, you advise her to pick:<span class="fnhfmnfeefni3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111111121111511121144
author_id: seuzz
id: V6B55QCWD
title: Saturday Night Orders
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"We've already helped out your girlfriends," you tell Michelle after she has described the people she wants to duplicate and replace, and her reasons for picking them. "You should use at least one of your picks to help your boyfriends."<br/>
<br/>
"Why do I only get to pick six?" Michelle asks.<br/>
<br/>
After all the dramatics she showed earlier—making herself ill as she used the masks on Christine and Kendra—her question impresses you. <i>Oh, really?</i> you want to say. <i>Gotten over our moral qualms, have we?</i><br/>
<br/>
Aloud, you just say, "I suppose you could have more. But six is more than enough to try to manage, don't you think? I do."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that how many you've got?"<br/>
<br/>
"Never mind how many I've got. But yes. Now then, your friends Roman and Justin and ... ?"<br/>
<br/>
"Scott," she says. "And Glenn."<br/>
<br/>
"Right, they're on the JV basketball squad? Well, I don't think you need to worry about them. Number Three can get Diego to lay off them." You look at her sidelong. "Do you want to get Diego out of the way completely?"<br/>
<br/>
She pales. "Like how?"<br/>
<br/>
You pinch her. "Not like <i>that!</i> I only mean, like, get him off the JV squad. I know Gordon and Steve are always talking him up with Coach Brooks, but honestly? That's only because they don't like Roman and his friends."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle mutters something under her breath.<br/>
<br/>
"But they could always go to the coach and tell him they've changed their minds," you continue. "Tell him that Diego's an incompetent asshole who's ripping the JV squad apart, and that Coach needs to put Roman in as JV squad captain instead."<br/>
<br/>
"You could get them to do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Steve is gone, Michelle. Remember? Number Three took his place."<br/>
<br/>
"And Gordon?" She blanches a little.<br/>
<br/>
The <i>Him too</i> stick a little in your throat. You cover it by fluffing out your hair and smiling, and saying, "I told you I'm not really Chelsea. And believe me, I didn't turn myself into her so I could have that <i>lummox</i> breathing all over me. So don't worry about Steve and Gordon, and don't worry about Diego." You slip your arm inside hers and pull her close. "Tell me about Ryder Hillberger."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Of course, you have other things to do on a Saturday—your mom takes you for a pedicure and lunch, and then takes you window-shopping, which is about the only way that Chelsea could relate to her; it's the only subject that doesn't naturally and inevitably return to the business of the cheerleading squad—but you're done with all that and with supper by seven-thirty. Still, it does leave you a little late for the "staff meeting" that you ordered everyone to show up for at the gym.<br/>
<br/>
It's been a week since the last such meeting, and as with that one the gym is plunged in darkness when you enter. The duplicates, again, are standing in a circle: things with the faces and forms of Steve Patterson, Kim Walsh, Will Prescott, David Kirkham, Kelsey Blankenship, and Jack Li.<br/>
<br/>
"Number Three," you crisply order after taking your place in the circle. "Report."<br/>
<br/>
He hands you his cell phone, on which a video is cued up. You play it as he talks.<br/>
<br/>
"A-Three and I checked into the Donna at a little after one. We took Room Nine, which gave us a perfect view of Room Eight. Well, not the door," he admits, "but you can see everyone who goes in and out."<br/>
<br/>
Indeed you can. Kelsey's BMW is parked only a dozen yards from the camera; the top is down and the girl is clearly visible behind the steering wheel, touching up her face with one hand while holding up her phone with the other. She does a little double take as Justin Roth, dressed in blue jeans and a billowing linen shirt open down to his navel, comes trudging up from the direction of the office. They exchange a few words, and Justin is about to put the key card into the lock of Room Eight when Kelsey calls him, and he comes over to lean against the car. He grins at her as she smiles and chatters at him. At one point, she puts her hand inside his shirt, and tickles him.<br/>
<br/>
"It was Number Four who recommended Room Nine," the Patterson doppelganger continues, "when we texted beforehand. She'd— Kelsey," he corrects himself, "had noticed some people in there one time, it made her nervous about being seen. So Number Four thought it would be the perfect vantage point. Also," he adds, "it's next to the Coke machine. You'll notice that at one point Roth comes out to get a bucket of ice. He's not wearing a shirt."<br/>
<br/>
"I told him not to put one on," Number Four puts in. "I thought it would sell things better."<br/>
<br/>
"Have you seen this?" you ask her.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, Number Three sent me a copy."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you think?"<br/>
<br/>
"It will definitely cause a scandal."<br/>
<br/>
"Where did you put the phone, that you got all this?" you ask Number Three.<br/>
<br/>
"In the window, between...<span class="nbsjbfsoatTK"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122111355313111212111151151111111211115111211441
author_id: seuzz
id: T32MMVN9M
title: Girl Bosses
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>Sunday mornings mean church, which is awful for every possible reason. You have to get up early to get ready, and you don't even get to wear anything good because your mom insists you wear something frumpy and ladylike. The services are boring, and there isn't even the consolation of hot guys to ogle, because the young ones at church are all dumpy or nerdy and they don't dress sexy either.<br/>
<br/>
You power through, but have a low-grade headache by the time lunch (roast beef and potatoes: very heavy) is over and done with. Still, it's nearly one-thirty before you are free to change into something more comfortable. It being the second day of November, you have to compromise with the season, and dress casually in jeans chopped off just above the knee; a loose-fitting long-sleeve tee; and a sleeveless hoodie cut so the hem rides just below your boobs. Some warm, woolen ankle socks and ratty canvas shoes complete the carefully chosen effect.<br/>
<br/>
A-Three squeals as she compliments you on your choices when you meet up by the mall. (You're in public, so her "act like Kendra" orders are clearly in effect.) You return the favor by complimenting her on her tight-fitting jeans, flannel shirt, cute boots, and ski cap. The latter intrigues you, for there's about three different colors and patterns swirling about it. A-Three gently pries the folds back to show you the secret: It's three bolts of wool salvaged from three different ski caps, which she has wound about her head in interlocking swatches and pinned into place to create the illusion of a single cap. You <i>beg</i> her to make one for you, and she happily agrees, though warning you that it takes "like, fifty fucking minutes" to get thing on. You assure A-Three that, on her, the effect is totally worth it. You're sure it will do the same for you.<br/>
<br/>
Though you park at the mall, it's through the much more classy Shoppes at Fell's Lake that the two of you graze the afternoon away, carefully fingering the clothes at Chesterbrook, studying the shoes at Anbrog, and drooling over the makeup at Eve. Neither of you has anything like the money demanded at these shops, but Christmas is coming, and you both want ideas to pitch to your parents. After a very lush two-hour browse, you retreat to Cafe Oro for an expensive coffee with some fancy cream. It's not exactly bustling, but there's enough people around that even in your secluded corner you keep the talk light: gossip about some of the teachers at school, complaints about parents, and speculations about which colleges various people will get into.<br/>
<br/>
After you finish, you both go into the ladies' room to "refresh" yourselves and to adjust your makeup. There you can finally talk frankly while applying eyeliner and lipstick.<br/>
<br/>
"You and Number Three did good work yesterday," you tell her while leaning over the sink and painting the edge of your lip with a complementary shade of plum. "That video should be all over school by Tuesday."<br/>
<br/>
"The boss told you about that?"<br/>
<br/>
"She ordered me to set it up through Number Three. I'll be seeing her this afternoon, by the way, with more orders about how to handle it. If I need to, I'll pass them along to you." You offer the lipstick to her; she takes it and studies it critically before returning it to you. "We'll talk on Monday night, if not sooner. Until then, be careful how you talk in front of Gloria."<br/>
<br/>
"She's not one of us?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, not yet. You know what the means during eighth period tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
"You'll call me names and tell me I'm no good for anything?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, and you'll give me dirty looks. By the way, have you heard anything from Cindy since the day she tried getting me kicked off the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. Kendra was helping her, did you know that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. I think it would best if you told her you'd still like to help her. That way she will confide in you if she has any more bright ideas."<br/>
<br/>
"Should I keep the boss informed?"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course. But give the news to me, and I'll pass it along. Kendra Saunders doesn't have much to say to Michelle Estrich, does she?"<br/>
<br/>
"She could." A-Three finishes putting her makeup away and closes her purse with a snap. "There's no one she won't talk to if she sees an angle in it." She stands back from the mirror and lightly adjusts the fall of her hair and the lines of her blouse.<br/>
<br/>
"It would be faster to keep me informed of everything. That way I can help you out." You put away your own makeup, and turn toward her. "Remember, we exist only to serve Michelle, and help her with the plan."<br/>
<br/>
"We serve Michelle," Kendra agrees.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You were supposed to meet Michelle at five at the gym, to help with Ryder, but traffic was heavy, and the others must have got there early, for things are already happening when you arrive. Ryder Hillberger, a junior whose lanky frame bulges awkwardly with muscles, is standing in the middle of the gym with Number Three by his side, listening calmly to Michelle. She glances over as you come hurrying in, but doesn't interrupt herself.<br/>
<br/>
"... I have given you everything that was Ryder's, so you can take his place. You will act like Ryder Hillberger. But you serve me."<br/>
<br/>
"I serve you," Ryder Hillberger echoes. He looks at you with a mildly quizzical expression as you join the small circle.<br/>
<br/>
"You're late," Michelle says. She is pale and a little breathless, but otherwise seems to be holding it together. "I had to do it without you."<br/>
<br/>
"It looks like you did okay."<br/>
<br/>
"The script helped. So did, uh, Number Three."<br/>
<br/>
Steve Patterson smirks at you over his folded arms.<br/>
<br/>
You study the new doppelganger.<br/>
<br/>
He is familiar—you had him in a couple of classes your junior year—and you remember the distaste Chelsea felt for him: He was a cocky little jerk, acting like he was older and more experienced than he actually was, and a couple of times last spring she was tempted to ask Gordon to take him aside and explain that he should really not try flirting with his girlfriend.<br/>
<br/>
He's gotten bigger in the last few months, with shoulders and a chest that better fill out a purple football jersey, but his hips and legs are still lean and narrow. He has grown his silky, light brown hair out, so that it falls past his ears and touches the top of his shoulders. His neck is very thick, and (all in in all) the impression of an engorged penis in a football jersey and a girl's wig is only accented by the contemptuous but appreciative leer he gives you.<br/>
<br/>
"A-Four," Michelle says, "this is Number Two. She also serves me." She catches your eye, and you silently give her your approval.<br/>
<br/>
"T'sup?" A-Four says, and tilts his head back to smirk at you from under his lashes.<br/>
<br/>
"Aren't we supposed to act differently when it's just us?" you politely inquire of Michelle. "I think he's acting like Ryder."<br/>
<br/>
"That's right," she says. "A-Four, when you are alone with others of your kind, like Number Three and Number Two, don't act like Ryder. Act like, um, professional." A-Four gives her a slightly puzzled glance, but the smarm drains from his face. "When you are with others," she continues, "be Ryder. When you're with us, be A-Four."<br/>
<br/>
"What orders do you have for him?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"A-Four," Michelle says after a brief moment of blank panic, "you're to change your—Ryder's—attitude toward Jesse and Julian and Alec."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean Dickhead, Buttercup and Fucknuts?" A-Four asks. His tone is pleasant and professional as he says it: he might have been calling them by their last names.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle blanches.<br/>
<br/>
"That's them," she says. "Don't call them that anymore, even with your— With Ryder's friends. Don't be friendly with them, but treat them like you treat, um ... Jason."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay then."<br/>
<br/>
"Will people notice the change?" you ask Michelle. She looks at A-Four, whose eyes dart. When he finally realize it's a question he's been asked to answer, he says, "Probably."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe if someone asks," you carefully suggest to Michelle, "tell them that Coach Porter told him to cut it out."<br/>
<br/>
"Do that," Michelle tells the doppelganger, who nods.<br/>
<br/>
"Anything else?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle hesitates, a look of agony on her face. Then she mutters, "That's all for now. I'll talk to you later."<br/>
<br/>
"Should I go now?" A-Four says.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. Go ... do whatever Ryder was supposed to do now."<br/>
<br/>
"Get buzzed on weed and beer at the Warehouse it is," he says, and starts to go.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe you and Number Three should talk a little," you suggest. "About the Warehouse." The two doppelgangers exchange a glance, then both swagger off toward the door. They have nice asses, you'd have to admit.<br/>
<br/>
After they're gone, you tell Michelle, "You did real good."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks."<br/>
<br/>
"Having second thoughts about the boyfriend thing?"<br/>
<br/>
She reacts as though you'd slapped her.<br/>
<br/>
It was the worst moment of your talk yesterday, when you'd suggested that Ryder could have a lot of uses beyond "laying off" her friends on the team. "He's the running back or something, isn't he?" you asked. "I've heard people calling him the team's MVP."<br/>
<br/>
That made her look ill, but she didn't come unglued until you suggested that the masks could also help her or her friends to land a boyfriend.<br/>
<br/>
<i>God, she'd never use the masks for something like that!</i> she said. You instantly backed off, and told her you meant that they could steer "other guys" to her friends. <i>Not the kind of friends Ryder has,</i> she'd said with an elaborate shudder.<br/>
<br/>
"No!" she says now. She rubs her arm. "I was thinking about ... well ... What you'd said about me maybe wearing one of those masks."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh!"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." The misery on her face deepens. "Except I wouldn't want to be Christine or Kendra. Or Ryder," she says, and there's something odd about the fractional hesitation between the last two names she said.<br/>
<br/>
But you can see now what her issue is. She has used up her quota of three masks, and her only choices would have to be drawn from those that you impose on her.<span class="ijmefjmgl259"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511111112111151112114411
author_id: seuzz
id: YQDD8XPCZ
title: The Last Space in the Trophy Case
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"Well, I have some definite ideas for the rest of the masks," you tell Michelle in a confiding tone. "But <i>you</i> might have some ideas I haven't considered. So—" <br/>
<br/>
You slip your arm into hers and pull her close.<br/>
<br/>
"How about you give me some ideas? Girls that maybe you'd, you know, like to be. And pitch them to me." You squeeze her. "Then it would be a win for both of us!"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I'll think about it," she mutters. "Is there anything else?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, one thing you could think about for me, is that I'd like to have you back on the squad."<br/>
<br/>
That startles her. "You would?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. I mean, 'Michelle Estrich' can't come back. But we have a vacancy I need to fill since Yumi quit, and the girl who fills it"—you touch her lightly on the shoulder—"could be you."<br/>
<br/>
"After tryouts?"<br/>
<br/>
"No tryouts. I've already told Coach Tesla I've got someone in mind. You could fill in the blank for me."<br/>
<br/>
She looks skeptical. "Shouldn't it be Jack's pick to make?"<br/>
<br/>
You smile. "Michelle. Jack just does what I tell him."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes widen, and she pales.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Maybe it was a mistake telling Michelle that Jack Li is one of your minions, and maybe it was a mistake telling her she could use a mask to get back on the squad. But maybe the two mistakes cancel out. If she does rejoin the squad under a new identity, that will show that she's swallowed her qualms about what you've done to Jack. And if she recoils from Jack's duplication and replacement, then probably she won't want to rejoin the squad.<br/>
<br/>
She's at least giving it some thought, because later that night she texts to ask if you are open to having a junior join the squad, and when you ask if that junior would be a new identity for her, she says it might be. In which case, you tell her, you'd love to have a junior on the squad!<br/>
<br/>
Monday brings unseasonably warm temperatures, and you take full advantage of it by dressing in shorts and a sleeveless top, which you cover with a pink hoodie. You put the morning squad through its paces, and if you curb your tongue when you'd like to lay it like a lash across Eva Garner's back, you remind the girls that although you are not squad captain anymore, you are still in charge of morning practices, and darkly warn them that you won't want to hear of any complaints lodged against you with Jack. <br/>
<br/>
"He told me he doesn't want to put up with any bullshit," you tell them. "That was his main condition for taking over the squad. Maybe you think you can get me trouble by bitching to him about me, but you'll only be storing up trouble for yourself." You hold Cindy's eye as you say it, and she flushes.<br/>
<br/>
Overall, it's a quiet day, but you know it's only the calm before the storm. Number Five will be showing that video to his friends, and Number Two will be having that talk with Anita Nuevo and Kelly Rinaldi. At lunch, you take advantage of the relative lull to try warming things back up between you and Gordon, simpering over him and rubbing his back. He reacts by draping a big arm around your shoulders, and nuzzling the side of your head. <i>I need to work on this relationship,</i> you tell yourself in a mental note, <i>at least until I can find a way of getting him under control again!</i><br/>
<br/>
As you'd anticipated, there's no gossip about Kelsey and her weekend when you meet last period with Gloria and Kendra, and neither girl has anything to say about the chatter going around school about your "demotion" and Jack's ascension. Possibly it's because they, like you, realize it's better to ignore it. But you're pretty sure it's on account of they think you've taken a bad hit, reputation-wise, and are waiting to see if they can twist it to their advantage.<br/>
<br/>
Well, that's what Gloria is clearly thinking. A-Three will just be obeying Michelle's orders to act like Kendra.<br/>
<br/>
But Gloria does ask if you've picked a new girl for the squad. You tell her that's for Jack to decide.<br/>
<br/>
She cocks an eyebrow. "Really?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm sure he'll listen to recommendations."<br/>
<br/>
"Are there going to be tryouts?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's up to him."<br/>
<br/>
Gloria continues to look dubious. Kendra too is listening attentively.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I ask," she says, "because I've had a lot of people coming up to me to ask if there's going to be tryouts. Or if, you know, someone's already been picked."<br/>
<br/>
"I know, I'm getting the same thing," you sigh. Kendra, too, nods. "Reagan Hackett came busting up to me at my locker just before lunch, just demanding to know what's going on."<br/>
<br/>
"She also talked to me," Gloria says. "She's not serious, is she? I mean ... <i>Reagan?</i> On the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
Kendra says, "She's asking because of Sydney McGlynn."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Jesus!" You cluck your tongue. "Not <i>her</i> again!"<br/>
<br/>
Sydney McGlynn is a newcomer to Westside. She is fit, tan, blonde, and buxom, but with a poise that Chelsea (whose natural effervescence tends to froth over violently) could only dream of possessing. She was a cheerleader at her old school in Kansas (or somewhere in the Midwest), and went to a national competition, and the specter of Sydney trying to join the squad has kept Chelsea in a state of nearly permanent panic, which she has only been able to deal with by stonily pretending she doesn't exist.<br/>
<br/>
But Sydney is one of those people whom you have, in the back of your head, been considering replacing with a doppelganger. Sydney has so far shown no interest in joining the cheerleading squad, and she seems mostly to keep to herself and to a small, tight-knit circle of friends. But her beauty, and the fascination that a lot of guys at Westside have for her, intrigues you, and you can easily imagine her being useful.<br/>
<br/>
So when you follow up your exclamation with, "Well, it's not going to be <i>Sydney McGlynn</i> on the squad, that's for God damn sure!" it's only for show. If you want her on the squad, it will be easy enough to get Number Seven to overrule Number One's objections.<br/>
<br/>
Gloria and Kendra both agree that adding Sydney to the squad would only lead to more confusion and worse problems, but you can tell that underneath their protests, they are calculating how that confusion could help them.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Gloria and Kendra have gone, but you're still sitting on the bleachers studying your phone after basketball practice, when Steve—looking flushed and healthy and freshly showered—comes of the changing room. "Hey Chels!" he shouts up at you. "You going home, or you gonna favor us with your presence?"<br/>
<br/>
You glare, but only reply, "I don't have to be home right away."<br/>
<br/>
"How fucking lucky for your family." Then, graceful as a gazelle (though tall as a giraffe), Steve bounds up the bleachers two at a time, stopping at eye level with you. The insolence look vanishes from his face, replaced by the neutrally composed expression of Number Three.<br/>
<br/>
"Coach wants Gordon's input about Rojas and the JV squad," he murmurs. "If you want something done there, you'll need to get him on the same page as me."<br/>
<br/>
"Understood. What's the story you gave Coach?"<br/>
<br/>
"Some bullshit about how unhappy everyone is. Coach says he doesn't see it on the court."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll talk to Gordon. I'll do that now."<br/>
<br/>
Number Three nods curtly as you put your phone away, then straightens up. There's a cruel and contemptuous look on his face as he says, in a loud voice, "If you don't want me around, Chels, just say so."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want you around, Steve," you retort. "Gordon won't say it to your face, but he thinks it's 'gay as fuck' that you're always around when we want to make out."<br/>
<br/>
He flushes.<br/>
<br/>
"You know, the only time I like being around you Chels," he says, "is when I got a case of the munchies I gotta get rid of." He hops down the bleachers. Gordon comes out just as he hits the floor, and with a jerk of his thumb in your direction, Steve tells Gordon, "She's all yours, man, and welcome to her."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Gordon asks you what that was about with Steve, but you brush him off with, <i>Just the usual,</i> and take his hand and lead him up to the loft. There you coo and caress and canoodle with him until you break down his reserves, and he grabs you and a handful of your breasts. You let him slobber over you this way while squealing that "I can't!" and "Not now! and "Gordon!" But of course you relent, and he lays back on the well-worn gym mat while you slip out of your shorts and underwear and slide yourself slowly down onto his flagpole-of-a-cock. You grunt and moan and cry with more ecstasy than you really feel, but it's still a disappointment when he rockets up inside you before you've hardly warmed up. <br/>
<br/>
But it all works out, for afterward you collapse and sprawl atop him, whimpering softly into the crook of his neck. It's in this position that you lobby him to second whatever Steve has to say about the JV squad. Gordon wants to know why.<br/>
<br/>
"Because," you tell him, "I can't stand Steve, but he knows what he's talking about. If you don't go along with him on this JV squad business, whatever it is, and things go bust, you'll look bad!"<br/>
<br/>
Gordon grunts and says that he'll talk to Steve. "Just go with him to Coach Porter, go along with what he says," you urge him. "Don't make it hard for yourself!"<br/>
<br/>
Then you giggle. "Just make it hard for me!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
After supper, Michelle sends you a text, saying that she's got a recommendation for the squad: Stacy Stahl. When you ask her to explain her choice, she only replies, <i>Good for me and good for you.</i><br/>
<br/>
You look up Stacy on social media. She's a popular junior, apparently, into gymnastics. Lots x2z activity connects her to Christine Miles, so you figure that's the angle Michelle is looking to play.<br/>
<br/>
But would she be useful to you? And do you really want Michelle back on the squad?<span class="ijfjffklfe2610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111111121111511121144113
author_id: seuzz
id: AWV6G2R3Y
title: Scandal!
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You need someone on the squad, and this Stacey Stahl girl is probably as good as anyone else. Yet, although you don't want to get into a fight Michelle over her choice, something about the choice feels suboptimal.<br/>
<br/>
After turning it over in your head a couple of times, you decide the problem is that Stacey will be of only limited utility to you if it's Michelle driving her around. Clearly, Michelle is interested in Stacey only because it will give her a more direct grip on the social clique that's been poking back at her girlfriends in the junior class, and that's not something that will benefit you. But a Stacey Stahl who is a minion and who can be ordered around, can be ordered (through Michelle) to also work for you on the cheerleader squad and in the senior class.<br/>
<br/>
But this isn't how you pitch it when you call up Michelle.<br/>
<br/>
"I really like this Stacey girl for the squad," you tell her. "She's an awesome pick, and I see why you want to add her to your string. But—"<br/>
<br/>
"But?" Michelle politely inquires after you've lapsed into an awkward pause.<br/>
<br/>
"But is she really someone you want to be, Michelle? Isn't this just ... <i>spite</i> talking?"<br/>
<br/>
There's a long silence, and you hold your breath.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not spite, Chelsea—"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course not. But I do know a lot about spite, Michelle, and how ... easy it is to be spiteful. I'll confess, there was just a teensy-weensy bit of spite when I turned myself into Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
<i>And who were you before?</i> you can almost hear Michelle wondering to herself.<br/>
<br/>
"But I made sure that wasn't the reason I did it. I turned myself into Chelsea Cooper because of the <i>advantages</i> she brought me. Are there any ... advantages ... you'd get by turning yourself into Stacey? Instead of just, you know, making a doppelganger?"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle sighs.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't see any <i>advantages,</i>" she says, "in turning myself into someone else."<br/>
<br/>
"There's <i>always</i> someone with more advantages than us, Michelle. Or even, if you don't see any advantages, how about turning yourself into someone you can have fun as?"<br/>
<br/>
"That sounds kind of mean," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh I don't mean it like that. You want to be someone like Stacey who can help out your friends. But would you have <i>fun</i> being Stacey, Michelle? Or would it be work?"<br/>
<br/>
There's another long pause before Michelle says, "I think I see what you mean."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay! So I'm not saying 'no' to Stacey. But how about you let it cook a little more? Come up with some other ideas. Someone ... fun! But with advantages! In the meantime, do you think we should still swap Stacey for a doppelganger?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I guess. That's why I, uh, picked her out."<br/>
<br/>
"Great! Tell you what, I'll make all the arrangements on my end. You just be available to show up for when we do it. Oh, gosh, Michelle! Isn't this exciting?" You gurgle with enough enthusiasm to make up for the sound of death coming through the phone.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your prediction that the Kelsey-Karl-Justin scandal would break on Tuesday proves right on the dot. You come out of the shower to find your phone insistently buzzing. It's Kendra. "Check your DMs!" she breathlessly begs you.<br/>
<br/>
"What's up?" you ask in alarm.<br/>
<br/>
"The video that Number Three and I took is going viral!"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Viral?</i> you wonder with a deepening dread. <i>As in ... all over the internet?</i><br/>
<br/>
"We'll talk about it at school," you tell her, and hang up so you can go online.<br/>
<br/>
To your relief, "viral" would be a exaggeration, but it has exploded all over x2z, and it's even drawing a lot of traffic from Eastman. The video is ricocheting around, popping up in multiple streams and being used to hijack others. There's a cataract of commentary, almost all of it gleefully trashing Kelsey as a skank and a whore and a lot of other nasty names. No one is defending Kelsey, exactly, but a few very lone voices (anonymously, of course!) try insisting that Kelsey's sex life is her own business; a few more (also anonymous) wonder who took the video and why, and condemn it for being posted. But most of the pushback (if you can even call it that) comes from a tiny handful asking how come Kelsey is the one being called names, instead of Justin and Karl. Of these, only Janelle Pelletier, Lily Hallet, and Emily Sparks are brave enough to put their names out in public.<br/>
<br/>
You nod to yourself in satisfaction. <i>Well, this will stir things up,</i> you tell yourself. <i>Now let's see what I can do with it.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
For the truth is that you had no real plan in mind when you ordered Number Four into a three-way, or when you ordered Number Three to record the meet-up and Number Five to circulate it. As when you blew up the cheerleading squad, you only had the sense that an explosion would destroy something that you could then rebuild to your own satisfaction.<br/>
<br/>
And though there's only a small minority fighting the lynch mob that is moving in on Number Four, it's with them and in their feeble protests that you glimpse something new and exciting.<br/>
<br/>
You start by texting Number Four, telling her to act and react simply as Number Four would to anything and everything that happens or gets said. After that, you dress. But you're hardly paying attention to the outfit you don, for your mind's eye is darting forward, feeling out and assessing various possibilities. You are still so preoccupied during your first-period workout that you ignore the querying looks from Gloria and Kendra, and there is no drama during class. <br/>
<br/>
But during second period ...<br/>
<br/>
Christian Padilla does a double-take and grins as you and Kendra come into the classroom, and he oozes from his seat over into the seat directly in front of you. He's already got his cell phone out.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, Chelsea," he simpers. There's an oily glee in his eyes, to match the oily sheen of his dark, curly hair. "Got a video I think you'll like to see."<br/>
<br/>
"I bet," you sniff, but take the phone anyway. You touch the screen to play, and frown stonily down at it for a few seconds before thrusting it back at Christian. "Yeah, I've seen it."<br/>
<br/>
He grins and leans forward across the top of your desk. "So," he whispers. "What do we think?"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you think?" you retort. "Are you pissed that it was Kelsey catching it from Justin and Karl, and not you?"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes pop. "What?" he stammers.<br/>
<br/>
"What's so special about it?" you demand. "Why are you interested? Why do you think <i>I'm</i> interested?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, Kelsey—"<br/>
<br/>
"Are <i>you</i> interested in Kelsey? I thought you'd be interested in Justin or Karl. Because I'm not. I'm not interested in any of them!"<br/>
<br/>
Christian reddens, turning a purple shade beneath his well-tanned face.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, excuse me," he says as he starts to rise.<br/>
<br/>
"Christian, you can answer me one question," you tell him. "What do you think of what Kelsey was doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," he snaps back after a moment's hesitation.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you think of what Karl was doing?" He says nothing. "Or Justin?" His lips curls, but still he says nothing. "You were acting like it was a big thing. 'Oo'!" you exclaim, mocking his mannerisms with some slightly less feminine ones of your own. "'Look at this! Isn't this a thing?' Well, what makes it a thing? That it was Kelsey? Or that it was Karl, or Justin?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess I actually don't care either," he retorts, and swishes back across the room to throw himself, exhausted, into his desk, where he buries himself anew in his phone.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra has been watching all this intently but silently. Now she leans over to ask in a very low voice, "What's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"Orders from the boss," you reply in a barely audible voice. "Make it a problem for Justin and Karl, not Kelsey."<br/>
<br/>
"Interesting," she says as her face briefly goes mask-like. Then she sits back in her chair and cocks her head to give you a coy look. "Am I supposed to follow your lead?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes." You take out your phone to DM Michelle. "We'll talk about it last period."<br/>
<br/>
After filling Michelle in briefly on what you are doing—so as not to cause confusion if and when A-Three reports to her—you look up to study Christian from under your brows.<br/>
<br/>
Stacey Stahl will be a fourth mask, and Michelle is supposed to bring you a fifth. For the last mask ... Well, a catty little queen like Christian Padilla—who is also in tight with Charles Hartlein and the rest of the "gay mafia" at Westside—would be a useful acquisition, and you doubt Michelle would have any objections, as she might to Sydney McGlynn or Catherine Muskov or some of the others you've been noodling over.<br/>
<br/>
And, if you're honest with yourself, you are dying to know what Christian is tapping into his phone right now. It's probably about you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
From Number Two you are able to get a copy of Stacey Stahl's schedule, and at the start of eighth period you detour past her math class and with a crook of the finger gesture her out in the hall to talk. She looks starstruck, and her astonishment at talking to you only deepens when you ask her to stay after school for a "private tryout" for the cheerleading squad.<br/>
<br/>
Only she can't. "I have to take the bus home," she moans.<br/>
<br/>
You smile. "Don't worry, I'll take you home myself," you assure her, and for a moment you worry she's going to faint right in front of you.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Good pick, Michelle,</i> you think to yourself as you make the quick hike to the library to join Kendra and Gloria. Stacey is a short, bouncy girl with the same body type as Chelsea: big boobs, strong thighs, and bowl-like hips. Her hair is brown and straight and falls in flat curtains down her back and over her breasts, but she's got the same glint of manic ambition in her eyes that Chelsea does.<br/>
<br/>
Her duplicate will fit right in on the squad.<br/>
<br/>
* Continue<span class="gjmjkih147"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122111355313111212111151151111111211115111211441131
author_id: seuzz
id: HTZWM96HM
title: Comes the Revolution
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You're all serious business—C-suite corporate executive—when you swing into the library at settle at the usual table, where Gloria and Kendra are already waiting. They, too, are wearing their most professional faces. They even have notebooks and pencils open and spread out in front of them.<br/>
<br/>
You also spread some writing implements out, and set and square up your cell phone, with the x2z app open, by your hand. But you don't write anything. Instead, you sit up very straight and stare off into the middle distance, and slowly and silently pump yourself up for the tirade that you're planing to loose.<br/>
<br/>
"You know what really pisses me off sometimes?" you say after a few minutes of solid silence. "The fucking double standards."<br/>
<br/>
Neither Kendra nor Gloria says anything.<br/>
<br/>
"The fucking double standards," you repeat. "A guy and a girl do it. You know what that makes the guy? A hero. A fucking superhero. It makes him fucking Superman." <br/>
<br/>
You glower.<br/>
<br/>
"And what does it make the girl? A whore."<br/>
<br/>
You clench your jaw, and a red mist rises before you. "It's so fucking hypocritical!"<br/>
<br/>
Kendra and Gloria listen intently.<br/>
<br/>
Your hand trembles as you fumble at the cell phone.<br/>
<br/>
"And if a guy has a three-way— If he sleeps with two girls at the same time? That's like godhood! People will talk about it for years. 'Remember the time Kevin Wyatt did it with Madeline Jones and Grace Galloway, out in Portable C, during lunch?' God <i>fucking</i> dammit! I get to hear about that <i>every single fucking day</i> from Steve and Gordon and Jason!"<br/>
<br/>
You snort.<br/>
<br/>
"And if it's two guys and a girl," you fume more quietly, "she's a super-whore! And no one says anything about how <i>gay</i> it was for the guys."<br/>
<br/>
You've been glaring off into space, unseeing, but not so blind that you've missed the glances being passed between Kendra and Gloria. After a very discreet silence, Kendra says, primly, "You're right, Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"You fucking know it," you growl.<br/>
<br/>
Then you slam your open palm on the table. The other two girls jump, and even you are a little startled.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it stops now! I'm fed up with it, and it needs to stop, and <i>this</i>—!" Your fingers are trembling hard as you queue up the video and hit the screen to play it. "This!" Your breath is coming in such hard gasps that you start to hiccup. "This"—you have to force the words out as the screen silently plays to show Justin Roth swaggering out of the motel office, and coming up to lean against Kelsey's BMW—"is where we make our stand!"<br/>
<br/>
You slam the phone face down, and cover your face with your hands.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's all grimly business-like from there. You order Kendra and Gloria to first of all find out "who the assholes were" who filmed it, and "who the motherfuckers were" that posted and circulated it. (Gloria is to concentrate on the first task, by talking to Kim Walsh to find out who rented that room on that day at that time; Kendra is to concentrate on the second.) And without ordering them to, you make it clear the attitude they're to take when talking about the video (and they're to talk about it with <i>everyone</i>): There's no excusing what Kelsey did, but Justin and Karl were <i>ten time worse</i> for doing it with her. You also speculate in front of them (and indirectly encourage them to speculate in front of others) that Kelsey wasn't even there for the sex, but was there to make Karl and Justin comfortable so they could relax and fuck each other.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra has to detour to her locker when the final bell rings, so you walk with Gloria to post-class cheerleader practice. A-Three can of course be trusted to follow your lead and orders exactly, but you have greater doubts about Gloria.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen," you tell her as you push along through the hallways, "you know I'm right about all this."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course you are," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm serious about this, Gloria. Listen."<br/>
<br/>
You pull her aside.<br/>
<br/>
"This isn't just about 'social justice' or any bullshit like that," you tell her. "It really is unfair, the way guys get away with this shit. And girls don't. I mean, think about it from your perspective, Gloria." You cluck your tongue. "I know you have the worst luck getting laid, but one of these days it's going to happen, and what happens then if someone posts a video of it? Do you want this kind of thing happening to you?"<br/>
<br/>
Gloria looks like she's been knocked by a brick between the eyes, but you ignore it.<br/>
<br/>
"We need to change the tone around here, Gloria, we need to get rid of the— the— the bullshit swagger macho culture. You understand that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I get it, Chelsea," she protests. "I agree."<br/>
<br/>
"But?"<br/>
<br/>
She looks confused. "But what?"<br/>
<br/>
"You look like you're going to say 'but something'."<br/>
<br/>
"No, no!" she protests.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm really serious about this." You touch the corners of your eyes, where tears are threatening to congeal. "I can't believe," you gasp, "that I've put up with it for so long. I can't. Fucking. <i>Believe it!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
You dive into the nearest girls' restroom and hide in a stall as the tears burst out.<br/>
<br/>
But they stop almost the instant you have the door closed. Quietly, professionally, you compose and send a text to Michelle, telling her to be ready to use a mask on Stacey Stahl tomorrow after school.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Dance practice goes well, with Jack praising and encouraging all the girls, even as he pushes you all to give ten percent more than you really have to give. Afterwards, you're all giggles and eye flutters with him, even as you feel hot and blown and sweaty. (He looks it too, but it makes him look sexy.) You ask him if he can stick around afterward for twenty or thirty minutes, to view a tryout for the vacant position on the squad. He says he can, and asks who it is. "Stacey?" he says with some surprise when you tell him. "I know Stacey. Well, I know who she is." But when he meets her in the gym afterward (and after he himself has showered and changed clothes) he talks to her like she's an old and familiar friend.<br/>
<br/>
As you watch her do a quick routine, you and he murmur to each other in low voices.<br/>
<br/>
"How's Number Six doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Very well. He was kind of awkward at first, shy, especially with so many girls crawling all over him."<br/>
<br/>
You feel a stabbing pang of jealousy. "Girls?" you coolly inquire.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. It's mostly girls we hang out with, and, well, I'm not available. Neither's most of the other guys. So Number Six is getting a lot of attention.<br/>
<br/>
"Interesting."<br/>
<br/>
"But I think Laura's got her hooks sunk pretty deep in him. Apparently they used to hang out a lot back when they were sophomores."<br/>
<br/>
You feel him giving you a sidelong glance. "Maybe we should bring Laura onto the team?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe. Or maybe someone. But I've got something else I need you to do." Briefly, you fill him in on the line you are pushing about the video.<br/>
<br/>
He nods. "That's easy. Jack already has a reputation for being kind of woke."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, socially conscious. I was going to ignore it all, but no one will think it's weird if I say something."<br/>
<br/>
"More than 'something', Number Seven. Don't be an asshole about it, but kind of push it."<br/>
<br/>
"I know what you mean, and I will. All the girls will go along with me, I'm sure."<br/>
<br/>
"Awesome." You grip his arm, and find he has a strong and hefty bicep. "I'm so glad we added you to the team."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm so glad you did too, boss."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Number Seven praises Stacey when she's done, but doesn't promise her more than that he'll "talk" to her later. After she's gone to change, you order him to text her in the morning to tell her that she's on the squad, if she wants it, and to invite her stay after school.<br/>
<br/>
"Jack was <i>really</i> impressed with you," you tell her as you drive her home (in fulfillment of your promise). "I was too."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks!" she squeals. "Do you think I— Um—?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're the only one we've seen, and between you and me I don't think we need to look at anyone else. But I dunno, Jack might feel like he has to give some other girls a chance."<br/>
<br/>
"There's some good girls out there," she admits.<br/>
<br/>
"But the thing is, you're going to have to be a team player."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I know."<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm serious. We've had so much— Pfft! Bullshit on the squad! It was just so aggravating! We finally got started cleaning it up, got rid of some of the troublemakers, like Yumi and Michelle.<br/>
<br/>
"Psht! Michelle!"<br/>
<br/>
You glance over at her. "You know Michelle?"<br/>
<br/>
"I know who she is. Stuck-up, pretend know-it-all, because she's a senior. Psht!" she snorts again. "No one in the senior class really likes her, do they?"<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
Stacey nods. "That's how come she hangs out in the junior class."<br/>
<br/>
You nod too. Only you nod because you understand even better why Michelle wants to replace this little cunt.<br/>
<br/>
You catch her giving you a sly, sidelong glance. "Are there any parties happening this weekend?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's <i>always</i> parties happening, Stacey."<br/>
<br/>
"I mean, ones that <i>you're</i> going to."<br/>
<br/>
You blush at the implied flattery.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure! I just haven't picked out the one we're going to."<br/>
<br/>
She catches her breath. "Us?" she inquires.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, yeah. The whole squad! We don't always go to every party together, but this weekend we'll <i>definitely</i> be going as a whole gang!"<br/>
<br/>
It looks like she's going to faint.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Later that night, you call Michelle. After confirming that she can be on hand tomorrow to help with Stacey, you ask her, "Now, she's not going with anyone, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"You mean, dating? She's going out with Jason Rowe."<br/>
<br/>
"What?" This news startles you. "How seriously?"<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty seriously, I think."<br/>
<br/>
"Because I asked her this afternoon if she's— Well, we were talking the weekend, and I asked if she had a boyfriend or anything, and she said no!"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle is silent a moment. Then she says, "Well, that's Stacey for you. Probably she's already thinking of trading Jason in for a senior."<span class="mgffmgigfk2610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511111112111151112114411313
author_id: seuzz
id: BSSN43SVG
title: Bros and Hos
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"We could arrange a boyfriend for Stacey," you muse.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" Michelle asks. Her tone is guarded, so you know that she knows exactly what you mean.<br/>
<br/>
"Tell me about Jason. I don't know him, is he someone like Ryan that we should, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Jason's a good guy."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. So you think we shouldn't?"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you asking me for permission?"<br/>
<br/>
You decide not to push it.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, if he's a good guy, what's he doing going out with Stacey?" You laugh. "We'll find her someone new. Some <i>asshole</i> in the senior class who could stand an attitude change, like your friend Ryan— Oh, by the way, how's he working out?"<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't heard anything from the guys."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, there's lots of assholes on the football team who could stand to be straightened out. And if we got one of them to be Stacey's new boyfriend—"<br/>
<br/>
"That wouldn't be fair to Jason."<br/>
<br/>
"Is he really stuck on her? She told me she didn't even have a boyfriend!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well—"<br/>
<br/>
"It's for the best, Michelle. If Jason's such a great guy, you don't want to see him going around with a <i>fake!</i> Oh, by the way, I've got one of my girls scouting around for a new girlfriend for whatsisname. Zion?"<br/>
<br/>
"Christine's boyfriend?" She sounds aghast.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. I  haven't decided yet, but I think she should break up with him. And since we don't want him to die of heartbreak—"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea!" she exclaims. "You can't just—! I mean, what you're—! It's not nice!"<br/>
<br/>
"I only said I was 'thinking' about it, geez! If you don't like it, okay. But Christine— Is Zion an asshole?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, he's also good guy."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I'll say it again. What's he doing going out with a cunt like Christine!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I guess he's in love with her!"<br/>
<br/>
"So we'd be saving him from his hormones. Besides, remember, we're going to be turning these people back to normal at the end of the school year. It's going to be weird for Zion, and for Jason, and for whoever, if their girlfriends—"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea!"<br/>
<br/>
"What?"<br/>
<br/>
There's a pause. "Nothing," she grumbles. "I guess. I mean, if you're so set on this—"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not set on anything, Michelle. And we're a <i>team,</i> remember? Partners! If I'm ever crossing a line that— Am I crossing a line now?"<br/>
<br/>
"It feels like you're close to one."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, we'll leave Zion and Christine alone. But Jason and Stacey— Look, it sounds like she's going to dump him the moment she's on the cheerleader squad anyway. Hell, ten to one, whatever party we end up at on Friday, she's going to end the night with her panties around her ankles and her ankles up by her ears! It's going to happen anyway, we might as well be in control of it. And Jason— Do you like him?"<br/>
<br/>
"What?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, if you like Jason, and you want to make it, like, not a crisis for him, and there's a girl you want to be who he likes anyway, then, you know, plug and play."<br/>
<br/>
"Plug and play?" Her voice is faint with bafflement.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Turn yourself into the girl who starts going with Jason after we have new-Stacey dump him and start going out with new-asshole-boyfriend!"<br/>
<br/>
There's a very long pause before Michelle says, "I'm going to have to think about this, after I take some ibuprofen."<br/>
<br/>
"It's not hard, Michelle, just think it through. I'll pull some notes together, come up with some names, and we'll talk about it tomorrow while dealing with Stacey. Talk to you tomorrow!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Chelsea herself rarely wades into x2z to post anything under her own name, and you don't do so now, either. But you do anonymously make a couple of posts in the Kelsey gossip streams, backing up those like Janelle Pelletier and Emily Sparks who are outraged at the double standards.<br/>
<br/>
<i>OMG, I am so mfing done with douchebag guys like Justin and Karl,</i> you write. <i>So effing glad Emily had the guts to come out say it wish I could do but lol I'll just say it we're not alone too sooooooo many girls I talk to are sick of hypocrisy and saying it privately some of them even in this stream where their smoking Kelsey's ass. Don't get me wrong its girls like Kelsey who reward guys like Justin and Karl for their shit behavior but its their shit behavior that needs calling out. Thanks Emily u rock!</i><br/>
<br/>
After posting that and a few more like it, you DM Kendra and Gloria, telling them that you want them to post similar notes, and to do so under their own names. Gloria is slow to respond, but when you check in an hour later (to find one snarky reply to your note that reads "Stfu Kelsey!") Kendra has a note of her own up, with her name and avatar shining brightly beside it:<br/>
<br/>
<i>I am so totally with Emily on this it just stinks the way people are giving Kelsey shit ubt none to the two guys. T3MNV9YR </i>[the randomly generated "user name" that goes with your anonymous post]<i> is right, I hear from so many girls thinking same thing but all too scared to say it around here even anonimusly but I wish they would. Don't be the bitch dog that dogpiles Kelsey just bc its happening here stand up for what you believe put ur name on it too!</i><br/>
<br/>
Anonymous user V55Qc6BCDW already has a reply to that, though: <i>Thats bc ur a whore too Kendra!</i><br/>
<br/>
To which Kendra has replied, <i>Jelous bitches gonna jelous bitch guess u wanted to be u with Justin and Karl but it wasnt so u such thir cocks here lol.</i><br/>
<br/>
Hot exchanges start flying after that, which you encourage both with more anonymous replies of your own (pretending to be other, newer commenters) and indirectly by DMing the rest of your minions to get them to contribute anonymously. You also DM Michelle, asking her and her minions to contribute.<br/>
<br/>
And by the next morning it's been enough to turn things around. Where yesterday ninety-nine out of a hundred comments were gleeful, chortling attacks on Kelsey Blankenship, more than half are furious, outraged attacks on the "asshole-bro culture" that permeates Westside.<br/>
<br/>
There's even talk of a student walkout.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So you are almost giddy as you dance into school the next morning. You feel so much raw, surging power that it actually makes you horny.<br/>
<br/>
But— <br/>
<br/>
"I don't want us wasting any time with gossip," you tell the assembled cheerleader squad after you're all out on the floor. "But if any of you are interested in what's being talked about online, be sure to come to the cafeteria fourth lunch."<br/>
<br/>
After practice, you tell Coach Tesla that Stacey Stahl will be joining the cheerleading squad, assuming that she can get her schedule changed, and you tell her that even before you get the text from Jack confirming that he's told Stacey that she's on. Armed still with the schedule that Number Two had provided you, you find Stacey at the start of  third to congratulate her in person and promise her that, until she can make other, more permanent arrangements, you can give her a ride home from after-class practice sessions. She is so happy it looks like her face will split open from sheer joy.<br/>
<br/>
You steal every second that you can during third and fourth period to check that the hot tide of indignation has not abated online, so that when lunch comes you won't look foolish when you hotly urge the girls at the alpha table not to let the moment pass.<br/>
<br/>
"We've got to show people that we're serious here, that we're sick of all the bullshit!" you tell them as Kendra, Gloria, Cindy Vredenburg, Eva Garner, and others listen intently. "We need a march, or a demonstration, or something!"<br/>
<br/>
"Some people are talking about staging a walkout," Kendra says, just as you'd told her to.<br/>
<br/>
"That's what we need!" you exclaim. "And I'd like to see the fucking school administration try to stop us!" Each of the girls you urge to pressure their friends—and Eva you urge to pressure her sister and brother ("Especially Marc," you tell her, "people listen to him!") into talking up the idea of a student walkout, maybe set for next week sometime.<br/>
<br/>
There's not much enthusiasm, you can tell, but you're pretty sure that you can stoke it given time.<br/>
<br/>
Well, you can stoke it in the girls. The guys? Steve is not the only one glumly chewing on his bad lasagna like it was a mouthful of nails.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's in Dance class that Gloria finally admits what you've already learned from Number Two: Kim refuses to tell her who rented that particular room last Saturday, from which they could film Kelsey and her boy toys. (Of course she didn't tell: you ordered her to refuse Gloria's request, as it would hardly do you any good if the world learned it was Kendra and Steve in that room.)<br/>
<br/>
"Then I'll take care of it, Gloria," you fume at her, "since you're either so incompetent or you just don't give a fuck like I do." She reddens. "All I'll have to do," you continue as you tap meaningfully at the screen of her phone, "is to show her what people are saying, and suggest that she does <i>not</i> want to be standing in the way of <i>that!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
And you give her another couple of hard glares eighth period, while praising Kendra for her "good work" in nailing down the names of people who saw and shared the video early. "Betcha anything it was him in that motel room," you say as you tap Spencer Osbourne's name on her list.<br/>
<br/>
But you've got another list of names that you've drawn up over the course of the day, and while taking a pee after the last bell of the day, you finalize them: candidates for who will go under Michelle's fifth mask. (The sixth mask is one she will pick for herself.) You've narrowed it down to three: Christian Padilla, Charles Hartlein, and Sydney McGlynn.<br/>
<br/>
But you are assailed by doubts at the last minute when you realize there could be advantages to adding a girl like Emily Sparks or Janelle Pelletier to the gang.<span class="fngigffkgge3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111111121111511121144113131
author_id: seuzz
id: WJGXTCNTN
title: Michelle Doubtfire
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You make a great show of welcoming Stacey onto the cheerleader squad at the post-class practice session, and of course Jack and Kendra follow your lead. The other girls are more muted, though the Garner girls do seem to go out of their way to make Stacey feel welcome. (Cindy, though, is only frostily polite.) Stacey blushes all over for sheer pleasure.<br/>
<br/>
"I've got a little business I have to talk over with Jack," you tell her in the changing room afterward. You're in the shower, washing off the sweat and heat, and your skin seems to bloom under the warm, soapy water. "I won't be long.  How about you wait— Oh, hell!" You shake your hair loose with a toss of your head. "We won't be sharing any secrets! Just come hang out with us back in the classroom. You know, under the mezzanine?" Even though school is out, there will still be teachers bustling about, so you won't be able to do the duplication and replacement in the middle of the gym.<br/>
<br/>
Your invite leaves Stacey giddy. She seems giddy about everything, and breathlessly volunteers that she's already talked to the counselors about switching her schedule around, and that starting by next week at the latest she'll be able to start making it to first-period practice, too.<br/>
<br/>
"Great! Oh my God," you gasp, "that is so refreshing, having a girl who's willing to give a hundred percent to the squad. It's all I could freaking do to get the others to give half that!"<br/>
<br/>
As you dress afterward at your locker, you text Michelle to confirm that she is waiting in the library for your signal. She is.<br/>
<br/>
"This'll just be a few minutes," you tell Stacey as you leave the changing room together. "Tell you what, how about—" You pause to dig through your bag. "How about you get me and you a soda from the machine—my treat—then come find us in the classroom."<br/>
<br/>
You smile at Stacey's back as she skips away. In the classroom, where Number Seven is waiting per your orders, you instruct him on what's to come next.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"My name is Stacey Stahl, and I serve you," the new doppelganger tells Michelle. Her eye is bright, and she stands poised and alert.<br/>
<br/>
She turns that bright stare on you as Michelle instructs her in her duties (for now): "Chelsea is also one of us," she says. "And so is, um, Jack." Number Seven lounges more casually with hands in his pockets, watching and listening to all this with a veiled amusement. "So is Kendra. Listen to them and work with them."<br/>
<br/>
"Do you want to mention A-Two and A-Four, boss?" you remind her.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, right." Michelle seems oddly rattled. "Christine Miles and Ryder Hillberger are also one of us," she tells A-Five. "Christine is A-Two, um, Kendra is A-Three, Ryan is A-Four. Chelsea here is Number One, and, um, Jack is—" She looks at you.<br/>
<br/>
"He's Number Seven."<br/>
<br/>
"Is there an A-One?" A-Five naturally asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I think," you answer for Michelle, "you told us we'd meet her later, boss."<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. When the time comes." Michelle shifts from one foot to another. "Any questions?"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you want me to do now?" A-Five asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Go home. I mean, do whatever Stacey would do."<br/>
<br/>
A-Five looks at you.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm supposed to take her home," you say. "I mean, that's what I arranged with Stacey. Unless you've got something to talk to me about?" you hint.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah, I do," she says. "Um—"<br/>
<br/>
"In that case, maybe Number Seven can take A-Five home. Or they can go do something." You turn to Number Seven. "What are your plans now?"<br/>
<br/>
"A bunch of us were going to meet at Panera."<br/>
<br/>
"That sounds terrific to me," you say. "Start worming A-Five in with Jack's friends. Does that seem like a good idea, boss?" you ask Michelle.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," she says. "I suppose that would ... work."<br/>
<br/>
"Introduce her to everyone, Number Seven," you tell him as he and A-Five turn for the classroom door. "Make her feel like one of the gang. Just remember, you two, to act like Jack and Stacey. Isn't that what you'd tell them, boss?"<br/>
<br/>
But by this time Michelle has given up even pretending, and collapses against the conference table that dominates the classroom; Number Seven even ignores her to grin and wink at you.<br/>
<br/>
After they're gone, you turn to Michelle. "What's wrong?" you ask. "You seem rattled."<br/>
<br/>
"Just nerves, I guess," she says. "Seven?" she then adds. "How many do you have?"<br/>
<br/>
"Seven, including myself. Do you want another one?"<br/>
<br/>
She hesitates, then shakes her head.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," you say, "I think six is enough. I almost wish I'd stopped at six. But I needed Jack." Michelle gives you a wary look.<br/>
<br/>
"But what's on your mind, Michelle?"<br/>
<br/>
She groans. "We've still got two more to go," she says. "And I'm not sure I can make it."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
She bites her lip.<br/>
<br/>
"I think I can do one more," she says, "the one that I ... picked for myself. After that—" You notice that she has begun to shake. "I don't think I can do this to any more people!"<br/>
<br/>
It's not a like a kick in the gut, exactly, but Michelle's confession does surprise you. Or maybe it doesn't. Though she has gotten a lot more confident at "programming" the new doppelgangers, you have sensed a greater reluctance in her as things have progressed. She was willing to duplicate and replace Christine and Kendra and Ryder and Stacey because these people were bullies that she wanted to control. But now that she's mostly gotten what she wants, those moral qualms she had have reasserted herself.<br/>
<br/>
But she owes you two more doppelgangers. That was the deal: She could name three, and you could name three. And now she is strongly hinting that, having got her three (four, even) she wants to renege on the deal.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, Michelle," you tell her. "When you agreed to help me, you agreed that I could—"<br/>
<br/>
"I know, I know," she says. "But can't you, um—?"<br/>
<br/>
Your eyebrows go up. "Can I what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Can you—? Instead of A-Six or whatever, can't you make that person, um ... Number Eight? Instead? Just you do everything and leave me out of it?" Her face is pleading.<br/>
<br/>
You hold her eye. Then you smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that's generous of you, Michelle. But if I'd wanted eight, I'd have made eight. But I wanted a partner instead. If you're telling me that, as my partner, you only want five ... Well, who's your fifth?"<br/>
<br/>
She hesitates. "You mean, the person that I'm— That I want to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. Have you picked yet?"<br/>
<br/>
She draws a deep breath, and her eyes dart. "Um ... Yeah, I guess."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's, it's kind of a weird choice, you'll probably think."<br/>
<br/>
"It's up to you."<br/>
<br/>
"I mean ... a really weird choice."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to make any judgements."<br/>
<br/>
"I mean, I thought about what you said, about it being someone ... fun. Who could bring advantages too. "<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" All this throat-clearing is starting to get on your nerves.<br/>
<br/>
She takes another deep breath, and in a quavering voice plunges on.<br/>
<br/>
"Chris Love," she says.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It was Kendra—A-Three—who put the idea in her head.<br/>
<br/>
Not that A-Three suggested directly that Michelle assume the form and identity of Chris Love. Rather, she mentioned him to Michelle as a possible boyfriend, and that started her thinking.<br/>
<br/>
Chris is a senior and a soccer player: a loose-limbed blonde boy with limpid eyes and a meltingly soft smile. He drapes himself in sloppy clothes—loose shorts, too-large muscle shirts, and bandanas—and is known for the casual (and casually confident) way he macks on girls. Lots of times you (well ... Chelsea) have seen him at parties with a boneless arm draped over a girls shoulder as they slouched together on a sofa, sharing a cell phone and giggling. But if he gets physical with girls, the farthest you've seen him go is to kiss them sloppily on the side of the head. There's lots of rumors that he scores lots of tail, and that he'll sleep with anyone. But those are just rumors.<br/>
<br/>
"And then <i>you</i> started talking about how Stacey could get a senior boyfriend," Michelle says. Her eyes wander about the room, settling anywhere but on you. She rubs her arm nervously. "And I was thinking ... well ..." She swallows.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," she says in a rush when you say nothing, "I was thinking that he could be her new boyfriend, and I could be him! Not because I, um, <i>want</i> to be her, um, but because it would be the best place to, um, run things from."<br/>
<br/>
Her gaze is almost frightened as she finally looks at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Look," she says, "it's kind of hard for me to talk to, you know, Christine and Ryder ... and Kendra ... and now Stacey. I'm ... I'm not part of their groups, and it's ... weird."<br/>
<br/>
"I understand."<br/>
<br/>
"But as Chris—"<br/>
<br/>
"That make sense," you assure her. "I totally get it."<br/>
<br/>
But she still looks dubious, and bites her lip. "Also," she says, "all this talk you're having online, about the culture at school, how it needs to change ... I think Chris could help there."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" You can't keep the skepticism out of your voice, because Chris Love seems like the kind of man-whore that you've been attacking.<br/>
<br/>
But she nods. "He ... he seems like he's got a sensitive side. I think he'd ... Well, I don't think people would be too surprised if he, you know, started saying the same kind of thing."<br/>
<br/>
You smile and clasp Michelle by the arm.<br/>
<br/>
"Michelle," you tell her, "you don't have to convince me. This is your pick, and I totally support it and understand it. I mean, I know I argued you out of being Stacey, but that's because right away it felt wrong to me. This—" You squeeze her arm and beam into her face. "This feels right!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Does it feel right? Honestly, it feels (as Michelle warned) kind of weird. But if she's on the verge of a breakdown or something, the last thing you want is to push back. So you tell her you'll swap her and Chris soon, probably tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
And after that?<br/>
<br/>
Maybe some of Chris's confidence will rub off on Michelle. So you decide to wait and see how things go before deciding whether to force a sixth minion on her.<span class="fmjggefeffn3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122111355313111212111151151111111211115111211441131311
author_id: seuzz
id: RV5V7CBMT
title: Love in the Afternoon
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>Your mother wants to talk about the cheerleader squad over dinner, but you brush her off with excuse that you've got a lot of homework to get done, including some projects that need doing so you'll have the weekend free. She looks hurt, but backs off.<br/>
<br/>
You do in fact have a busy night.<br/>
<br/>
There is, for a start, mask stuff you have to complete.<br/>
<br/>
Last Saturday you made up enough blank masks to get Michelle her full set of six, and Number Three polished them and left them for you in the loft on Monday. You also made up enough of those metal strips to go with the masks. But it's a lot more tedious getting the rune work done, and you've barely stayed ahead of it by staying up late almost every night this week to get one done. You do have one ready to go, to use tomorrow on Chris Love, but you need to finish another one for use in Michelle's mask. So after speeding through your homework, you buckle down to get that one done while talking on the phone to Number Two and cocking an eye at social media on your laptop.<br/>
<br/>
It's been awhile since you've coordinated with Kim, and she opens by telling you that she's got some candidates to be girlfriends for Zion Barber, the junior class president. <br/>
<br/>
"I've changed my mind, we're not doing that," you tell her. "But what are the names, anyway?"<br/>
<br/>
They're almost all junior girls, so they don't interest you, and Number Two confesses she doesn't know if they'd interest Zion. She's also not sure about the one senior girl on her list, but you do perk up when Kim drops her name at the end of the list: Kelly Rinaldi.<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" you ask. "What made you think of her?"<br/>
<br/>
"She and Zion have a class together, the Leadership/Citizenship one. I don't know what they think of each other, but it is an overlap."<br/>
<br/>
"Hmm. I'll think about it." As one of Anita Nuevo's sidekicks, she'd be useful, and because Anita is such a pushy bitch, you can maybe sell Michelle on a duplication and replacement. (Assuming you can wangle her into picking a sixth without throwing up.) "Did you have that talk with her and Anita about the banner?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, and I'm pretty sure I'm just about Anita's least favorite person now."<br/>
<br/>
"Doesn't matter. Next time you see Hannah Westrick, give her an apology about that whole fiasco, and make sure you make it sound like you totally blame Anita and Kelly for it."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes boss."<br/>
<br/>
"Now, about all the stuff that's going on with Number Four ..."<br/>
<br/>
You spend almost an hour talking about the burgeoning scandal surrounding Kelsey Blankenship, and whether you can keep bending it back to hit Justin and Karl instead. Number Two reports that "Kelsey" is practically in a nervous collapse, and is suffering hysterical crying jags. But all of her friends are rallying around her. At least officially.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm pretty sure that Amanda's been posting some nasty stuff about her," she says. "Brent and Ricky at least have been really vocal about supporting her. I'm not sure about the rest of the guys. I mean, they're real supportive of her when we're all together. But Anthony and Geoff, they don't say anything to me, not like Ricky and Brent do, about it. And no one's talking about the elephant in the room."<br/>
<br/>
"What's that?" You'd think the "elephant" would be that Kelsey had a three-way, which is what everyone's been talking about.<br/>
<br/>
"That she's been secretly going out with Karl," Number Two says after a pause, "and that she still hasn't admitted it."<br/>
<br/>
You also talk about why Lily Hallet, a member of the track team, should be so vocal about the "double standards" at the school, and you learn that she's one of a small group of girls who, at least among themselves, are pretty outspoken about the "asshole-bro" culture at Westside. You ask for their names, in case you want to "recruit" them to your team at some later date. Besides Lily, they are Audrey Briscoe, Rachel Bell, and Ella Swope. She also tells you a little more about Emily Sparks and Janelle Pelletier.<br/>
<br/>
As for whether the culture at Westside could be changed, she doesn't know, but she hazards that a lot more people would have to be duplicated and replaced before it could for sure happen. As for a walkout or some similar demonstration, she's pretty sure it could be done—the administration certainly wouldn't stand in the way—but she's not sure how many would join it. "It would have to be planned pretty carefully," she says. "You'd have to get the right people to start it and say they'd join it if it happened."<br/>
<br/>
All of this, then, is food for thought, and after hanging up you turn it all over in your head a couple of times as you finish the metal strip.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's cold and rainy the next morning, as it has been all week, but that doesn't dampen your mood, for it's Friday again. Last night while talking to Kim you went onto social media to find a party, and found one happening tonight at the house of a junior named Kian Benefield. When you asked Kim about it, she told you that Kian is a friend of Zion Barber's, so it seems the perfect place to take the cheerleaders out in a show of support and friendship for Stacey. You pitch it to all the other girls at first-period practice, but only Gloria and Kendra and Maria talk as if they will go.<br/>
<br/>
"I need you to put the screws to the squad this afternoon," you murmur at Number Seven when you catch up to him at his locker at the start of fourth period. "Tell Cindy and them—her and Lin and the Garners—that you want them all to show up at Kian Benefield's party tonight. As a show of support for Stacey."<br/>
<br/>
"You want me to order them to go?" he asks dubiously.<br/>
<br/>
"No, just do that passive-aggressive thing Jack does so well. Tell 'em you're gonna go out there 'cos you think squad spirit is important, and you think it'd be nice if we all showed up at the same time. Like around eight-thirty or so, maybe. Nobody has to stay for the whole thing."<br/>
<br/>
"You got it. Oh, a pack of us are going out to the Warehouse for the battle of the bands."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that tonight? Well, whatever. Do what you have to. Oh, how well do you know Chris Love?"<br/>
<br/>
He explains that he knows Chris pretty well through girls like Laura MacGregor and Elle Moore—in fact, Chris is supposed to be one of the guys going out to the Warehouse with them all. He says he'll figure out an excuse to get Chris up to the school around seven or so. "He's a good choice," he adds when you explain that Chris is slated next to be duplicated and replaced.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Grab his feet," Number Three grunts, and Number Seven, who had handled the mask, scoops up Chris Love's feet. Together, the two doppelgangers shuffle their colleague-to-be over to the nearby bleachers, and lay him out. You then dismiss them.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, this is going to involve a little more work than usual," you tell Michelle after you have summoned her from the girls' changing room, where she had been hiding out. "I'll undress him. You need to sit down or lay down, and put this onto your face." You hold out a mask.<br/>
<br/>
She blanches, and hesitates a moment before taking it. "And I have to take it because?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Because we need to make a new Michelle, a new doppelganger. Someone has to take your place so you don't disappear. Don't worry, she'll do everything you tell her. Also, we need to hide him." You point to Chris. "So, you'll put on his mask, and he'll wear yours, and then it will be like nothing's happened to either of you. Except you'll be him."<br/>
<br/>
"But won't he, um— Won't he know everything that I, um— That we—?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. It doesn't work that way. Come <i>on,</i> Michelle!" You frown at her.<br/>
<br/>
And so, visibly trembling a little all over, Michelle sits on the floor, takes a deep breath, and puts the blank mask to her face.<br/>
<br/>
You amuse yourself while everyone else is unconscious by pulling Chris's clothes off him: loose-fitting khaki trousers, a billowing undershirt, and a long-sleeve, baby-blue linen long-sleeve shirt that is several sizes too large for him. The figure underneath is lean and muscular, with well-defined chest and stomach muscles, and smooth as a girl all over. You lay his mask aside when it comes out of him, then watch him alertly for movement as you paint the inside of Michelle's mask and burn a little of her hair inside it. Chris vanishes when you set the mask on him, and another Michelle Estrich sits up with a look of alarm on her face.<br/>
<br/>
You convince the new doppelganger to hide out in the changing room, so as to keep the freakouts to a minimum, and seal Chris's mask. You then gently shake Michelle awake. "You should take your clothes off," you tell her. "There's a girl in the changing room who needs them." Michelle looks a little ill, but complies. She is shivering harder as she lays down afterward on the bleachers with the other mask. You leave her there to take the clothes to the other Michelle. Another Chris Love has popped into existence when you get back.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Birthday."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know."<br/>
<br/>
"Where do you live?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know."<br/>
<br/>
"Do you have a brother or sister?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know!"<br/>
<br/>
You bite your lip and try not to show too much panic. The fear on Chris Love's face is enough for the both of you.<br/>
<br/>
He is very white beneath his tan, and his clothes hang awkwardly off his frame. He trembles all over.<br/>
<br/>
For twenty minutes you have been trying to gently coax Michelle into relaxing so that Chris's memories and personality traits will come, but to no avail. Putting on the clothes, going out to his car, scrolling through his phone: none of it has worked to jog anything loose.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle Estrich looks exactly like Chris Love. But she has no idea how to act like him.<br/>
<br/>
* Continue <span class="fmjgihgfmgei3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511111112111151112114411313111
author_id: seuzz
id: NQLHQL7W8
title: Totally Mental, I Must Say
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"Okay, you obviously can't go out like this," you say when you surrender to the inevitable. "It just won't work."<br/>
<br/>
Actually, you're not certain of that. Physically, the mask is perfect.<br/>
<br/>
Chris Love stands before you in all his physical splendor. His fine-spun blonde hair shines like gold, and his skin is smooth and free of any blemishes. His nose, mouth, brow and chin are perfect replicas of the original.<br/>
<br/>
But the eyes are tense with fear, and his limbs hang awkwardly off a hunched spine. He shivers and grimaces.<br/>
<br/>
You don't understand what's gone wrong, and chew your thumbnail nervously as he sinks onto a bleacher and takes out his phone, ordering A-One—the doppelganger "Michelle Estrich"—to return to the school. When <i>you</i> put on Kim's mask, and Chelsea's, you got their memories and personality traits instantly. So what's wrong with this mask?<br/>
<br/>
When A-One arrives, you get Michelle to order it to wait again in the girls' changing room while you pull Chris's mask off your partner; then you gently coax her awake so she can order A-One to disrobe and let you remove the latter's face. After that, you gingerly place Chris's mask onto Chris himself. Only after it has vanished into him, and his eyes have popped open, do you wish that Number Three were here, to help wrangle him if it's the real Chris who wakes up on you.<br/>
<br/>
Fortunately, that's not necessary, for the Chris Love that wakes, though argumentative and shocked at finding himself naked, obeys Michelle's commands. He also answers those questions she puts to him, which she herself couldn't answer. (When's his birthday? Where does he live? Does he have any siblings?)<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, this is really weird," you tell her. "The mask seems to be okay, it works just like the others. It's only when you put it on." You trail off, staring hard at Chris as though through sheer force of will you can get him to explain to you what the problem is.<br/>
<br/>
"Look," you are finally forced to tell Michelle, "maybe this isn't going to work, maybe he's just going to have to be, you know, a regular doppelganger, and you'll have to stay as yourself. So just in case ... Well, let's fix him up. He's going to have to be A-Six until we figure things out."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So Michelle gives him the same programming as she gave the others, and the personality drains from A-Six's face, leaving him blank and pliant. "Go out to the Warehouse," she orders him when she's done, "or do whatever Chris was going to do. Remember to <i>be</i> Chris when you're with anyone except me."<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever you say, boss." A-Six heads for the exit, and by the time he reaches it, he has fallen into a perfect imitation of his original's swagger.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen," you tell Michelle, "let's bring him back out here tonight, after the parties are over. How long can you stay out?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't have a curfew on Fridays."<br/>
<br/>
"Then get him out here, and you come too. We'll put you back in his mask, and you can go home as him."<br/>
<br/>
She blanches. "I can't do that—!" she starts to protest.<br/>
<br/>
"And then bright and early tomorrow you come back out here and we'll take another look. I don't know what the problem could be—" You give her a beady-eyed glance, as though it's all her fault. "But maybe you just need to relax. Maybe you need to sleep on it or something, I don't know."<br/>
<br/>
She looks dubious but doesn't argue, and accompanies you out the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The party at Kian Benefield's house is full of juniors and sophomores, but you throw yourself into it anyway. Stacey is already there by the time you and Gordon arrive, and she squeals when she sees you—good to see the new doppelganger is acting exactly like her original—and introduces you around. You repay the favor by squeeing over her, and telling everyone how she's going to be an awesome addition to the squad.<br/>
<br/>
"What a bunch of doorknobs," Gordon growls when he catches you in the kitchen during an in-between moment.<br/>
<br/>
"Pookie," you retort, "why don't you go find a basketball player and compare jockstraps with him." He glowers and pushes off.<br/>
<br/>
Not that he's wrong, exactly. They seem to be all student council types here: the girls dumpy and dowdy and earnest, and the guys sweaty in their dress shirts and pants. The only one who seems to be having as much fun as you is a kook named Kyler, who is underdressed in some mortifying short-shorts and a button-up shirt that's unbuttoned down to his navel. Between that, and his giggles and grins, it's not hard to peg him as gay. You're also pretty sure the host, Kian, is gay, but much more quietly so. He's as well-dressed and well-mannered as every other guy there, but there's something soft and shrinking about him.<br/>
<br/>
Amid the blizzard of names you are introduced too—most of which go in one ear and out the other—the most notable is Zion Barber's. Yes, the junior-class president is there (as said before, the place is stuffed with student council types) and he's got Christine with him. They make an attractive couple, with her "rich white-girl" look nicely complemented by his African aspect. Or is it Arab? You can't quite decide. His skin is a milky brown and he has curly, poofy hair. But his face is a blend of ethnicities. You finally decide that his pug nose and deep-set eyes are sub-Saharan African, but they are filtered through a face that is more Egyptian in shape.<br/>
<br/>
"He's Ethiopian or Somalian or Sudanese, or something," Jack tells you when you mention it to him. You're in the middle of a small scrum—Stacey and all her well-wishers, including a tall, good-looking kid with brown hair who she introduced as "my boyfriend, Jason." (<i>That won't last long,</i> you thought even as you gushed over him.) "He's on the football team," she added as she collapsed against him and started stroking his chest.<br/>
<br/>
"Interesting," you tell Jack. "How come I don't see him around at more parties?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, maybe you just didn't notice him."<br/>
<br/>
"I think I should pay more attention to him."<br/>
<br/>
"What kind of attention?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud."<br/>
<br/>
Jack holds your eye even as he tips back his beer.<br/>
<br/>
But in fact you are only thinking aloud, just as you're thinking aloud when you ask him about your host, and he confirms that not only is Kian gay, he's going around with the half-naked, giggly kook. That too elicits an <i>Interesting</i> from you, though one that's no more meaningful than the one dropped earlier.<br/>
<br/>
By a little after nine, the entire cheerleading squad has shown up—Cindy dragging in last, of course—and after poking him in the chest and muttering what you want of him, Number Seven quiets those in the living room so he can make a ringing speech welcoming Stacey to the cheerleading squad, and toasting her. There are rousing cheers and hoots and yells from everyone, and Stacey blushes extravagantly. She does seem to be popular, even with this crowd, and you bask in a hard glow of satisfaction at knowing that she is (though indirectly) one of your minions and seemingly so well-placed (along with Christine) to influence the junior class. Though you have had nothing stronger than a single wine cooler, you feel almost drunk with pleasure.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't stay long at the party, and you have Gordon take you home immediately after, to the surprise of your mom when she sees you coming through the door. In fact, she asks if you're going out again, but you tell her that it's been a long day, you've got a headache, it was a rotten and boring party, and you don't see the point in exhausting yourself when there will be other parties tomorrow night. She brings you some aspirin after you are up in your room, which you accept with a minimum of gratitude.<br/>
<br/>
The real trouble, you decide after you are dressed down more comfortably in flannel pajamas, and have made yourself wretchedly bored with social media, is that you are worried about Michelle and her new doppelganger. You had texted her before heading home, telling her to just stay put and that you'll deal with it all tomorrow. But now you are gutted with anxiety.<br/>
<br/>
Why the fuck did the new mask work perfectly okay when put onto Chris, but not work on Michelle? The mask itself worked perfectly at transforming her physically, so the trouble must be in the metal band. Did you get one of the runes wrong? That's the only thing you can figure.<br/>
<br/>
Otherwise, the trouble would have to be with Michelle. It could be with her. She's got those moral qualms again: maybe she's putting up some kind of mental block that's preventing the memories and personality traits from seeping through? And if that's the trouble ... Well, then maybe she just needs time to adjust to the mask. Like, maybe she needs to fully relax, get a good night's sleep? You had suggested as much to her before cancelling the plan to meet with her. But it's not quite eleven, so there's still time to meet up with her and make that switch. <span class="fmjggefefgk3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111111121111511121144113131111
author_id: seuzz
id: T26GWV6LG
title: Beds and Foreign Bodies
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>Even though it's nearing midnight, you throw on some pants and a jacket, and text Michelle to meet you at the gym with Chris. Your parents are in bed by now, so you have to steal quietly from the house.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The switchover seems to take an ungodly long time. The fake Chris gives Michelle the address for his house along with a quick-and-dirty description of what to find there: parents, a little sister in the fourth grade, and a dog. Michelle herself protests that she doesn't know why she should be making this switch, but you bully her along, telling her that she should spend at least one night in Chris's bed, as him. <i>You wanted to turn yourself into him,</i> you fume at her. <i>You at least need to give it a chance!</i> Even after she is in Chris's mask, she looks wounded and resentful.<br/>
<br/>
But that's Friday night. Saturday morning brings a change.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The buzzing of your phone from beneath your pillow brings you groggily from sleep, and you groan when you see the text is from Chris Love: <i>Get together now?</i> he says.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh and maybe you even fall asleep again, for it's like no time has passed when another text from him comes in: <i>Maybe breakfast?</i><br/>
<br/>
You groan again and roll onto your back to thumb in a reply: <i>No go sleep or go run.</i> If Michelle wants to get out of the house and away from Chris's family, there's other ways to do it than by hauling you out of bed too.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Really want meet,</i> he replies, so you text back <i>one hour at school.</i> You know full well it will be two hours at least before you will get there, but Michelle can wait.<br/>
<br/>
Still, you do try to wake yourself up. Maybe it's because Michelle, being in a foreign body, has reminded you that you yourself are also in a foreign body, but as you lay in Chelsea's bed, you feel the strangeness—the alienness—of her body around you in way that you haven't felt it in a long time.<br/>
<br/>
Take your boobies, for example. They are big and they are fat and they are firm, and they sit heavily on your chest. You smile as you grab and gently squeeze them. <i>My boobs,</i> you groan happily to yourself. <i>Mine!</i> They were Chelsea's, and there were few sights more fascinating (or daringly forbidden, it seemed) back when you were a boy in the tenth and eleventh grades than Chelsea and her boobs. They made your eyes water to look at them: torpedo-shaped when stitched tightly inside a halter top, or bounteously lush when draped in the soft folds of a blouse. Their tips tingle now at your memory of looking at them, and you shiver with delight as you freely squeeze them now. <i>My glorious boobs!</i><br/>
<br/>
And your hair. It is soft and pillowy beneath your head, and when you turn your face huge curls of it fall across your eyes. <i>Mmm!</i> That was another fantasy you used to have, of digging your fingers into her golden curls and roughly teasing them out, and of burying your nose in their scented, silky depths. You pull a great hank of them to your face now and breathe them in deeply, like a bouquet. It is tangled and a little greasy to the touch, but you sigh contentedly and breathe it in some more.<br/>
<br/>
And your legs and your hips, those bouncy, springy legs and hips! When you were too daunted to stare at her boobs or face, you'd stare at her ass and legs. So taut, and well-shaped, and so muscular, with smooth, creamy skin! You drop a breast and glide your palm down over your firm stomach to your inner thigh, to rub and stroke. <i>Nngh!</i> Your legs twitch and kick involuntarily. <i>They're my legs now, and I exercise everyday to keep them in shape!</i><br/>
<br/>
And of course as you rub yourself, your fingers touch the tender strips of flesh between your legs. <i>Oh, the inner mystery, the inner sanctum, the Holy of Holies that you only dared to dream on when you were in your own bed, and had your sock at the ready!</i> Chelsea Cooper's cunny!<br/>
<br/>
It's rough and prickly this morning, for it's been awhile since you've shaved it. But the flesh seems to swell and engorge as you touch the prickling tips of those hairs. <i>Oh God, I'm making making myself wet, I've made myself wet,</i> you moan to yourself as you slip your forefinger inside. <i>Oh, how long has it been since—?</i> you ask yourself. You can't remember. <i>Well then it's been too long!</i> You splay your legs, then cross them beneath you, and arch your back and knead the back of your neck with one hand as with the other you probe and pleasure yourself more deeply. <i>I am fingering ... I am fingering ... ! Oh my God, I'm fingering Chelsea Freaking Cooper!</i> you glut to yourself. <i>And I ... I </i>am!<i> ... Chelsea Cooper!</i><br/>
<br/>
A shriek rises in the back of your throat, but dies behind your firmly clenched teeth, as you cum.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It wasn't an earth-shaking orgasm—maybe only a three out of ten—but it was enough to wake you up and get you moving. It must have exhausted those horny-teenage-boy nerves of yours, though, because you conduct the showering and soaping and shampooing in a much more business-like manner, and even when you dress—in a form-fitting track suit, for you're going to go jogging after you've taken care of Michelle up at the school—you only check yourself out in the mirror long enough to straighten the lines and pat yourself over and heft the flesh this way and that before nodding with satisfaction over the general contours of your thighs, butt, back, and bosom.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle—Chris Love, to all appearances—must have gotten bored while waiting, even though you are in fact only twenty minutes late, because he is on the far side of the outdoor track when you pull up, and has to jog all the way around again to meet you. "Hey!" he pants as he comes slowing up. His grin is liquid and easy. "Wanna take a spin around the track?'<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe after." You look around. "Where's A-One?"<br/>
<br/>
"Michelle? Home asleep still, probably." He bends over to rest his hands on his knees, and smiles up at you from under his brows. "Just wanted to get together with you this morning," he continues, still panting, "show you it all worked out!"<br/>
<br/>
"Worked out?" you frown. "What worked out?"<br/>
<br/>
"Last night! I woke up this morning feeling—" He straightens up and flexes his arms. "Feeling and thinking like Chris!"<br/>
<br/>
"What?" You blink. "Really?"<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't that what you were hoping would happen?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well ... yeah! I wasn't really counting on it, though." You peer closely at him. "So what happened when you went to bed? And woke up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, my mom— Chris's mom," he corrects himself, "was still up when I got back. She yelled at me a little for being out past my curfew, I told her I was sorry, was heading straight for bed. Kinda freaked me out, you know, 'cos of—" He touches a fingertip to his forehead. "So I got in bed and was all, like, Shit, I dunno what to do, I don't even know if I can sleep! I didn't even want to touch myself!"<br/>
<br/>
That confession reminds you of what you did in bed this morning, and you can only hope the flush you feel blooming beneath your skin doesn't show on your face.<br/>
<br/>
"But then I did fall asleep, and when I woke up this morning—"<br/>
<br/>
He claps a broad hand over the top of his skull, and chomps down on his lower lip. His eyes go distant, but they glint.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it was all kinds of confusing," he says. "It was like, I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't figure it out. I had wood, and I was all, um— I don't know if you know what guys do when they have wood—"<br/>
<br/>
"I've heard a thing or two," you snap.<br/>
<br/>
"Well." He grins bashfully. "I was in the middle of doing something about it when it just hit me. I was like, 'Hang on, this isn't like me, I don't—! Except I do! So who—?' And then I'm, like, 'Oh my God, I know what's going on!' Freaked me out hard!" he finishes with a laugh.<br/>
<br/>
"So you've got all of Chris's memories?"<br/>
<br/>
"Everything he'd remember when he's not stoned," he brags.<br/>
<br/>
"So when's your birthday?"<br/>
<br/>
"June 29."<br/>
<br/>
"Address?"<br/>
<br/>
"845 Sparrow Lane."<br/>
<br/>
"Parents' names?"<br/>
<br/>
"Greg and Jennifer. My sister's name is Hailey." He laughs. "Used to call her 'Hellion' for a coupla years, back."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright! Congratulations ... Chris!"<br/>
<br/>
His smile plumps up at the implied compliment, and you give him a long and appreciative look up and down.<br/>
<br/>
"Wanna take a jog together?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
He laughs—loose, casual, easy—and sprints off before you can even drop to the ground to do some warm up stretches.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"That's Andrea's car," he says as you're taking a cooling-down walk from the far end of the track back toward the gym. He nods at the white Honda Accord that is parked close to the natatorium. "Andrea Varnsworth."<br/>
<br/>
"There's only one Andrea worth talking about."<br/>
<br/>
You feel him cock an amused eyebrow at you. "Is she one of yours?"<br/>
<br/>
"One of my what?"<br/>
<br/>
"You know what I'm talking about. A Number Four or Ten or Eight Hundred and Thirty."<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, I've only got seven."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, is she one of them?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not really your business, Michelle."<br/>
<br/>
"Chris," he corrects you, and there's a hint of a growl in his voice. "Or A-Six, I guess I'm supposed to answer to that one too."<br/>
<br/>
You glance up at him in surprise, for it's just about the most unexpected thing he could have said.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," you say to cover your surprise (and discomfort), "You can still have another one for yourself."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, and I was thinking Andrea would be a good one. Or maybe Catherine Muskov."<br/>
<br/>
That really does floor you.<span class="fngigffkflh3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122111355313111212111151151111111211115111211441131311114
author_id: seuzz
id: WRYCFYCDK
title: Ambition from a Surprising Place
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"Are you still planning on, um, going out with Stacey Stahl?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Chris says. "Why are you asking?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you were suddenly talking about Andrea and Catherine," you answer. "I thought maybe you might ... you know—"<br/>
<br/>
You feel Chris glancing over at you, but keep your own eyes forward.<br/>
<br/>
Besides, you've got other distractions as you and Chris make your way slowly back to the school. The jog has left you with a stitch in your side, and there's two more cars pulling into the lot. They park next to Andrea's: more swimmers heading into the natatorium, probably.<br/>
<br/>
"I was just thinking out loud," Chris says in a careless tone. "There's a lot of people we could replace. That's just two of them."<br/>
<br/>
<i>There's a lot of good candidates,</i> you silently agree. <i>But why are you suddenly okay with making more duplicates?</i><br/>
<br/>
Your surprise almost doubles when Chris asks, "How soon can we do another one?"<br/>
<br/>
"This afternoon at the earliest. I have to make another dingus."<br/>
<br/>
"For who?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll have to think about it a little more." You hate the feeling of being pushed. "Does Chris know Stacey?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" He sounds confused. "Oh. No, not really."<br/>
<br/>
"So you'd need to set up a 'meeting' between them so they could supposedly get to know each other."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess."<br/>
<br/>
"I know how we can do that. I'll text you later. Keep your schedule clear."<br/>
<br/>
You're at the school by now, and there's an awkward moment as you and Chris Love turn to look at each other. He looks down his nose at you with a soft grin, and for a tremulous moment you are half-certain he's going to lean in and try to kiss you. And maybe he's thinking of doing it, too, because you hold each other's eyes for just a little too long.<br/>
<br/>
But he breaks it off with a lazy, one-fingered salute.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'll keep my phone turned on," he says. "Let me know when you're ready to do something." By the gleam in his eye, you know that there's a double-meaning in the phrase "ready to do something," but you just tell him you'll be in contact soon.<br/>
<br/>
<i>The fuck is going on with Michelle?</i> you wonder as you get in your car. <i>She was totally acting like Chris Love!</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Back home, you lock yourself in your bedroom to make the last metal strip for Michelle. As you work, you puzzle over Michelle's change of attitude. <i>At least she's okay with making another doppelganger,</i> you end up concluding. <i>Let's just get it done while she's still drunk or high or whatever is going on with her, and I'll worry later about if she's okay.</i> It certainly is weird that she's gone from not being able to get Chris's memories and personality to almost having lost touch with her own. Maybe she'll find an even keel by tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, you concentrate on the question of who to duplicate and replace next.<br/>
<br/>
It's by process of elimination that you reach your conclusion. Catherine and Andrea (and other girls like them) are, as Michelle observed, good candidates. But for that reason you want to save them back. You are still planning to recruit additional junior partners once you have fully set Michelle up with a circle of six doppelgangers, and you'd like to save candidates like Catherine and Andrea to tempt them. Sydney McGlynn, when you remember that she too is someone you've considered, is another one you want to hold back on. As for Emily Sparks or a girl like her, they are already doing the work you'd want from them: putting social pressure onto all the man-whores out there.<br/>
<br/>
It's intuition rather than reason, finally, that leads you to look to the gay subculture at Westside for Michelle's final recruit. Possibly in the back of your mind you are thinking of Kian Benefield and his kooky boyfriend—another gay doppelganger could open a back-channel there. You are probably also thinking of Number Seven, and the backbiting he gets from Charles Hartlein and his friends. But when you get right down to it, Christian Padilla recommends himself because he is a gossip, a confidante of Kendra (so is someone already connected to Michelle's circle of doppelgangers), and someone who can be a spy within Charles's gang. He can also be another voice that you can turn to put pressure on Roth and Hennepin.<br/>
<br/>
He should also be pretty easy to get to.<br/>
<br/>
But that's for later. <i>Lets meet at Nirdlingers at one,</i> you text Chris. <i>Tell Stacey to expect a text from me.</i> He replies with a thumbs-up emoji, and then a short text confirming he's texted Stacey.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"You know," you confide to Chris in a low voice. "You two would look really cute together."<br/>
<br/>
He grins at you, then sinks down in his chair and stretches his legs out in front of him. "Are you trying to set us up?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just telling you what I think," you airily reply. Then: "Stacey!" you call to the girl. "Go try the green one on again!" She hops alertly back for the changing rooms.<br/>
<br/>
It's coming up on two-thirty, and you're starving, but you've having too much fun with this shopping trip. You texted Stacey to suggest meeting her at Nirdlingers to look for some "cute clothes"; and you're pretty sure that the real girl would have leapt at the invitation. But of course the doppelganger (forewarned by Michelle) was sure to go anyway. You then texted Chris to tell him where you and Stacey would be, and that he should come out there to "accidentally" meet you and Stacey both. That, then, would set up their new acquaintance.<br/>
<br/>
But that's not the only arrangement you've made.<br/>
<br/>
So after Stacey has tried the green sweater back on, and then the black one with the white piping, and has come back out in a grayish-green hoodie, you are interrupted by the sound of someone calling your and Chris's names. Jack Li, a relaxed grin across his face, come sauntering up. He's not alone either, and after you've squealed and jumped up to give him a quick, tight hug, you greet Brianna Kirschke and Genesis Lee and Laura MacGregor and ... Will Prescott. The latter is a surprise, for though you'd told Number Seven to not come alone, you hadn't instructed him to bring any other doppelgangers with him. <i>He must have come with Laura,</i> you think with another stab of jealousy. <i>God damn it, it must be getting serious between them!</i><br/>
<br/>
There's further quick greetings all around: Chris and Jack slap palms, and then Chris has to get up to give Brianna and Genesis each a quick, nuzzling hug. "Chris is helping me and Stacey pick out some clothes for her," you tell the others, and shoot Chris a steely glance so he'll remember who he is ultimately supposed to be interested in. "We all ran into each other— Well, me and Stacey were already up here—"<br/>
<br/>
"We're just here 'cos I needed to stop and look at some shoes," Jack says. "But we're all on our way over to The Hamboree."<br/>
<br/>
"Ewww!" you exclaim. "No, wait, I don't think I've ever eaten there."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, they got awesome cheeseburgers," Chris says. "And patty melts."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God!" You cover your stomach—your taut, flat stomach—with both palms.<br/>
<br/>
"They got all kinds of stuff there," Jack says. "Come with." He nudges you with a wink.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I haven't eaten anything today. Do they have salads?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, come on," Jack urges. "You can afford to—"<br/>
<br/>
"All right! Jeez! Twist my arm!" You giggle and clutch at Stacey. "Do you think we're done here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess so," she says, looking a little dazed. "Um—"<br/>
<br/>
"You go look for your shoes or whatever," you tell Jack. "Me and Chris'll get Stacey checked out, we'll meet you up front." With waves and smiles, your group dissolves again into two.<br/>
<br/>
"That was lucky the way it worked out," Chris observes when it's just you and him and Stacey again. He puts his arm around her as he leans back and cranes his head to stare off in the direction of the shoe department. "Now we've got witnesses."<br/>
<br/>
"Luck had nothing to do with it," you retort.<br/>
<br/>
"You set it up?" He looks at you in surprise. "Oh, right. Jack."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. Also, I've decided that Christian Padilla is going to be your number six," you tell him. "Or seven, I forget what numbering we're up to. Is that okay with you?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's fine," he says, still distracted by the bobbing heads of the others. "Is that all we're going to make?"<br/>
<br/>
"Six is enough to manage," you remind him.<br/>
<br/>
"Then how about we bring someone else in?" Chris says. "Give him six to manage, and then we'll manage him." He turns to look at you directly.<br/>
<br/>
You have to steel yourself to keep from staggering back a step. "What?" you say.<br/>
<br/>
"You brought me into this scheme," he says with a calm and plain bluntness. "How about we bring someone else in? What about one of those girls? Or that guy?" He glances back over at Jack and his friends. "Though we probably shouldn't tell them that Jack is, you know. They might not like it, him being a friend of theirs and all."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll think about it," you tell him dazedly.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
And you do think about it, alone, in your car, after telling everyone else you've changed your mind about going to The Hamboree, and have sent Chris and Stacey off with the others. You are driving out to the school to meet Kendra, who you have instructed to bring Christian out to the gym for an "important meeting." But all the way up there you are thinking of Michelle's suggestion.<br/>
<br/>
You were planning on switching faces, with Kelsey or Patterson or Kirkham. But you've three other masks you could put yourself under.<br/>
<br/>
But maybe you should agree to Michelle's idea, if for no other reason than to keep a close eye on her. This change in her attitude is beginning to frighten you a little.<span class="ijnihffme258"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511115
author_id: gogostopgogo
title: Masks on Friends
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You are laying down on a pile of pillows and blankets and you can’t fall asleep. You’ve been feeling incredibly antsy and uncomfortable lately and its not just because you’ve been on the “rag" for the last two days. Its the thought of how you are going to get a mask onto Kim's Father. <br/>
<br/>
Despite the nagging hesitation that you are feeling in the back of your mind you’ve decided making your father into "Number One-B" was the best choice for one of the new masks Will Prescott had made for you.<br/>
<br/>
You’ve decided that your house would be a much better base of operation than the loft at Westside High going forward. It was in the perfect spot in the town as it was very centralized to every one of your minions homes and to Westside High School as well. <br/>
<br/>
Plus when you decide to change masks you wanted a more private location when you do so. “Changing Masks” that idea also fills you with dread too, as you really started getting accustomed to being your Kim self.<br/>
<br/>
 While the idea of becoming someone else sounded incredibly fun and amusing for a forgettable nobody like Will Prescott, the idea of switching bodies puts Kim at a great unease. In fact if you weren’t truly Will deep down the idea of using a mask to become someone else would frankly repulse you. Yes, Kim is very comfortable being herself. <br/>
<br/>
Plus being Kim was a great stepping stone to your role as the secret leader of the school. Taking control of her hardworking, persistent and ambitious nature had allowed you to already put eight masks on several key students in the school. If you were still Will (or anyone else for that matter) you’d still be dwindling around with your dick in your hands. You’d never have gotten this many masks on this many targets if not for being your current self!<br/>
<br/>
Thinking of which..<br/>
<br/>
You get up from the floor and cushions and stretch, then notice Deanna Showwater is sound asleep on her living room couch. <br/>
<br/>
You’ve really been neglecting Kim’s social life lately so you had agreed to movie night hosted at Deanna’s house. Its a weekly get together where Deanna invites Kim and some other girls (and sometimes a few guys) over for movie marathons at night.<br/>
<br/>
 Tonight was an all girl’s night so she had put on the Notebook then Mama Mia. Your Will self would have found both extremely boring but your Kim mind had found them both pretty cute. <br/>
<br/>
But none the less you came over because you had business to attend too. Thankfully after tiptoeing around the house to make sure no one else was in the home as you did notice the other girls leaving throughout the night, (and her parents were also gone visiting Deanna’s older sister at her college in New York), you decided now would be the perfect time to use a mask to replace Deanna. <br/>
<br/>
 You reach into your bag and pull out one of the newly created masks Will had made. In less than five minutes Deanna had become another of your underlings. Then after giving her replacement the typical commands you’ve become familiar with giving to the other eight golems, you also include the new commands about the "golem tax". <br/>
<br/>
Kim despite being an overachiever in school was severely lacking in personal funds. Growing up in a single parent household was hard for her. So she had applied to numerous different stores and retailers for a part time job recently, but you’ve decided to hold off on getting a part time job indefinitely. Not when your golems can each pitch in to growing your bank account. <br/>
<br/>
Thus far everyone of the golems were able to pitch in at least $100 gift visa cards for you,( Kelsey pitching in $300 due to her wealthy parents ), and even Will Prescott who was saving up his allowance for a new gaming console gave you a couple hundred dollars as well. <br/>
<br/>
Yes, if you were going to secretly run the school you wanted to look good doing it, no more wearing all the clothes Kim picked up from Good Will two years ago. "Number Nine" returns carrying a few gift cards from her room and hands you them, you decided to only keep the fifty dollar card to Forever 21.<br/>
<br/>
Deanna Showwater wasn’t the most necessary target to use a mask on but you needed her off your back. How were you supposed to run the school with people always bugging you wanting to hangout? <br/>
<br/>
Kim while being a bit of an introvert does care about her social status outside clubs and school. You didn’t want everyone thinking you were a shut in, and her friends were getting really annoying recently. <br/>
<br/>
"Give me a report on everything I should know that you keep a secret from me." you tell number Nine before you leave. <br/>
<br/>
Deanna starts giving you her typical endless gossip ,but when she mentions Anthony Kirk (a fellow student council member who you spoke to a few days ago), has a gigantic crush on you, you are caught off guard. Apparently Deanna was sworn to secrecy about this too as he was planning to ask you to senior prom later in the year. <br/>
<br/>
You blush a little bit at the news, but you also feel a deep hatred and jealousy boil inside you too as you feel your Will Prescott mind feels like Anthony Kirk is treading dangerous close to your “territory”. <br/>
<br/>
Because on the rare occasions Kim touches herself that name is often popping up in her head.<br/>
<br/>
 Kim rarely masterbates but on the rare occasions she does a few guys names pops in her head, mostly of male celebrities but a few Westside guys. One being Anthony Kirk and never being Will Prescott. And this fills you with a deep anger under the "fluffy gooey" feeling you are feeling on top. Because you know she would say yes to a prom invite from Anthony but not one from Will Prescott. (Even though you know you wouldn’t have the balls to ask her to prom, it still feels like a rejection.)<br/>
<br/>
The Deanne golem breaks you out of your trance by asking if everything was okay. You simply smile saying “fine” as you make your way out to your car. <br/>
<span class="ddllorcSOP"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111151
author_id: gogostopgogo
title: Masks on Family
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>You are soaking in the bath tub relaxing in the bubble bath and enjoying the scent of the lavender bath bomb, while you are in the middle of a chapter of the book Pride and Predudice, one of Kim Walsh’s favorites when your cellphone rings. <br/>
<br/>
The sound making your cat Kimi jump off the fluffy bathmat where she was curled up next to you on the ground. You groan putting the book aside and getting out of the tub into the cold bathroom air, as your suddsy puffy pink nipples prick in the air. You pick up your cell phone on the counter and answer.<br/>
<br/>
It’s Will Prescott, “Hey boss I was able to get a mask on Caleb for help with the job you wanted me to do.” <br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes, “Please put him on. And what did I tell you about calling me that?”<br/>
<br/>
“Sorry Bo..I mean Kim.” Will responses as Caleb answers the phone<br/>
<br/>
“Hello Caleb? Hi, this is Kim Walsh. I believe William had placed the mask on you?... Yes?…. Good. Now I need to you to listen to everything he tells you to do—“<br/>
<br/>
“See I told you, you had to!” Cries Will Prescott in the background.<br/>
<br/>
“William stay out of this. Anyway Caleb you and Will have a very important role, you and him will be making masks. Many masks for me and my friends who will be picking them up, and you can’t tell anyone else about this either, understood?"<br/>
<br/>
“Yes ma’am” Caleb states.<br/>
<br/>
 “Good, please place William back on the phone.”<br/>
<br/>
“William you are to continue following my orders in making more masks and you must watch your friend as well. Now that you have some extra help I expect more than seven masks by next Monday alright?”<br/>
<br/>
“But why can’t I get more help from one of the other golems?” Will whines. <br/>
<br/>
“William I allowed you one mask to get help from anyone of your choice, now please get the task I asked of you done.” You click the phone and hang up, rubbing your temples.<br/>
<br/>
You sigh, you feel a bit bad making Beta-Will and Beta-Caleb do all the "grunt work", but they lack the popularity of the other golems like Chelsea, Jack-Li, Deanna, Kelsey, and the others who already had their established roles in your new social order of underlings, and someone needed to make more masks.<br/>
<br/>
Speaking of which, after you toweled off and gotten into a bath robe you bend down under your bed to find the last mask William had made for you a few days ago.. <br/>
<br/>
You believe now would be the best time to carry out your plan for this final mask. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
The clock states 12:17 as you tiptoe to the darkened living room with only the television producing a soft glow. <br/>
<br/>
You turn to see your Father is sound asleep in his armchair.<br/>
<br/>
Your Father reminds Will Prescott of Vernon Dursley from the Harry Potter films the one who was Harry’s annoyingly evil step father, in terms of looks. However he is as sweet as a teddy bear and thats why your Kim mind is feeling so conflicted. <br/>
<br/>
But any empathy you had for your father is quickly removed by a slight change of thinking. You move toward him sleeping in his armchair and quickly place the mask onto his face. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
——<br/>
<br/>
"Father from now on those are your orders will you comply?” <br/>
<br/>
You ask of your new father golem you had just created. Your demands to him were pretty typical, keep acting like your dad, up Kim’s allowance, and clear out of the house for your upcoming parties, and golem meets that will take place here at your house. After all come Monday your beta’s will be adding more beta’s to your “court.<br/>
<br/>
After you issue those commands to your father he only answers with “Yes sweetie."<br/>
<br/>
You don’t know why but after he says this you feel tears wheeling up in you eyes and push your body into him and sob. <br/>
<br/>
“I’m so sorry I did this to you Daddy! I know you must really hate me for making you into a clone. I’m so so sorry” you whimper into his shoulder. <br/>
<br/>
You feel him wrap your small body into a bear hug, then he kneels down to look directly into you eyes. <br/>
<br/>
“Pumpkin there is absolutely nothing you could ever do in this world that would ever change the amount of love I have for you. I’ve seen you mature into the brilliant young woman that you are and I know if your mother was still here she would be so proud of you. I want you to know whatever path you choose in life I will support you.”<br/>
<br/>
 You feel better as he wipes the tears from your eyes. <br/>
<br/>
When you get to your room your attitude changes for the better when you read a text from Beta Kelsey telling you she has gotten a mask on Amanda who is now under her control.<br/>
<br/>
You lay down with a smile, as come next weekend you won’t just be the President of Westside High you will be its Queen.<br/>
<br/>
But what does Kim really want you think, after creating a new note in your ever growing notebook on who is a Beta. <br/>
<br/>
Kim has the popularity, the looks according to guys like Will Prescott, and soon power.. but what she really craves is a boyfriend… no a King to rule besides her.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes a King who is not a Beta Golem.”<br/>
<br/>
You sudden feel yourself blushing in your cheeks. You are getting excited… <br/>
<br/>
These past two and a half weeks you have treated your Kim body very professionally. Your Kim mind has treated this entire mask situation not much different than a business transaction and only touching “things" when necessary... But now your Kim mind is telling you she wants it, she is giving you permission to touch and play with her body.<br/>
<br/>
 You feel your mental barriers come down as you stick two fingers into your wet pussy. And without having to worry if your father would hear you, you let out a very unprofessional Kim scream of ecstasy. <span class="hmnlffkgii259"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122111355313111212111151151111512
author_id: gogostopgogo
id: H29GXD54M
title: Kim's lofty Ambitions
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"Kim Walsh, Westside High Homecoming Queen” you say out loud but quietly enough to only yourself as you make your way through the hallways of Westside High Monday morning.<br/>
<br/>
 It rolls off the tongue quite nicely you think to yourself. Soon enough you will certainly have enough votes to secure your place as the nomination for Homecoming Queen you think. You already began telling your betas to spread rumors that you will be who they will be voting for when the poll for homecoming King and Queen goes out next week, and they should tell their friends to vote for you too. <br/>
<br/>
One goal down you think to yourself.<br/>
<br/>
It was last night you decided on a few new goals over the weekend, (Goals Kim always wished to achieve by the end of the school year no matter how unlikely) , including: becoming Homecoming Queen, Valedictorian, and getting a whole page in the back of the yearbook where all the seniors can write their praise. <br/>
<br/>
Some of these goals will be harder than others to achieve, but unlike most classmates you have determination, and a magic spell book that will help you get it done. <br/>
<br/>
********<br/>
<br/>
As you make your way to your monthly student council meeting you can’t help but notice out of your peripheral vision a few freshmen/sophomore boys looking at you in a catcalling like way. On a count of your newest style of course, you think with hidden but joyful glee. Your tight pants outlining your ass and slight mid riff is probably what they are staring at. <br/>
<br/>
 Yesterday you and Beta-Chelsea, Beta-Kelsey, Beta-Amanda, and Maria (who was not a beta and had no idea the others were but tagged along any-way) went on a girl’s shopping trip to the mall. <br/>
<br/>
The girls helped you pick out clothes that would really give you an edge for the end of the school year. To make you really stand out to guys, unlike your usual frumpy goodwill clothes. <br/>
<br/>
Today you are wearing a designer jacket, a pushup bra, tight fitting denim jeans that really accentuates your behind, and a black thong under them. The later you find incredibly annoying as it keeps riding up your ass, as thongs are just as foreign to Will Prescott as they are to Kim Walsh.<br/>
<br/>
However, Chelsea slept over at your place last night to help you straighten your naturally wavy hair and really go all out on your makeup this morning. As usually Kim rarely uses any makeup in her normal day to day life. <br/>
<br/>
****<br/>
<br/>
Inside the student council meeting room you greet your fellow members warmly but you make sure to give a cold shoulder to Anthony Kirk, whom usually you are very friendly to and the person you’ve always sat by for every meeting. Today you decide to sit on the opposite side of the room from him.<br/>
<br/>
 Even as he smiles toward you, you don’t reciprocate any warmth, but only with an calm contempt look, you notice his smile slowly fade as you do so.<br/>
<br/>
 He has a crush on you and is even planning to ask you to homecoming as he knows you are single. You know this thanks to insider information from Beta-Deanna who spilled the beans to you over the weekend.<br/>
<br/>
However you have no intention of settling for him. You deserve someone cute like Mark Gardner or Greg Mansfield (both of which unfortunately have girlfriends already, but that can easily change).<br/>
<br/>
****<br/>
<br/>
As student council President you must go over a great deal of boring but mandatory issues affecting the school, you deliver your speech through power points. But throughout your delivery you can’t help but notice potential recruits to your golem cast in the meeting.<br/>
<br/>
One being Rachel Burton a girl even shorter than you, who is amazingly smart and is on the swim team, who reminds you of the actress Alexis Bledel. She is quiet but friendly towards you. She would be a good brainiac for your team. Also she would be good at getting close to another swim team member, Andrea Vansworth who Kim secretly despises.(  Over the fact she kissed the guy Kim had a huge crush on in middle school.)<br/>
<br/>
Another one is a very good friend to Kim, Sneha Reddy, an foreign national who immigrated from India her Junior year. She is very slim with long dark hair and if you were a lesbian you would think she is quite cute. She is also a girl that Will Prescott didn’t even knew existed, but Kim knows well. She is also projected to become Valedictorian with her grades outpacing your own. Which might need to be changed you think.<br/>
<br/>
Lastly is your best friend Bailey Richardson, another girl Will Prescott didn’t pay a single second too. He always looked upon her as being extremely plain looking with a dopey looking face with long brunette hair, and was also intimidated by her height. Her being 6’2 which makes her the tallest girl in the whole school. She is also on the girl’s volleyball team which makes her hard to come across being she practices so much. But you and her have been friends since middle school. <br/>
<br/>
<br/>
******<br/>
<br/>
“Hey is everything cool between us?” Says Anthony Kirk to you in the hallway after the monthly student council meeting has subsided. <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah why wouldn’t things be good between us?” You responde to him giving him your fakest smile.<br/>
<br/>
With a visible sigh of relief he answers “Okay good..because I… uhh well Kim.. I actually had something planned but… I was wondering…”<br/>
<br/>
"Oh no” - You mentally think to yourself, “Here it comes please don’t make me do this, why is he doing this now?” You think.<br/>
<br/>
You begin to feel really uncomfortable as Anthony begins to stammer. You realize that being Kim comes with guys hitting on you, but the fact that guys like you somewhere in your mind you find repulsive.<br/>
<br/>
Now you were just wondering if you should let him down lightly or break his heart. <span class="fmmkminghj369"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221113553131112121111511511115121
author_id: gogostopgogo
id: E5RS35F5R
title: Stealing your ex-girlfriend's boyfriend
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>No sooner had you let down Anthony Kirk with the line “Sorry I’m not ready to be seeing any guy at this time.” Than did your mind turn to the idea of getting a boyfriend. Because that’s when Lisa Yarborough (the girl Will Prescott was “dating” last summer) approached you.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey Kim, I’m loving your outfit are those lululemon's that you are wearing?” She states with a warm smile. “Because they are looking amazing!.  Also do you think you could help me with my calculus homework for….”<br/>
<br/>
Lisa’s rambling is silenced in your head as your Will Brain is brought to the forefront… How could you forget that Kim often tutors Lisa the girl you were madly in love with last summer? You never even made it to first base with her but you always considered her your unofficial girlfriend. <br/>
<br/>
You were obsessed with her gorgeous blue eyes and wavy blonde hair that you would often stutter in front of her all last summer. She was the first girl who ever gave you any attention so you were blindly simping for her trying to get her attention. Thankfully though any attraction you now have for her is muted being Kim and talking to her is easy. <br/>
<br/>
With a fake smile you say “Sure lets head to the library and take a look at it.”<br/>
<br/>
 You and her carry on a conversation as you walk together but you are mentally distant in your mind. “Lisa had ghosted ...Will…me for that douche Geoff Mansfield” But even as you think that you can’t help feeling a soft spot for Geoff that Kim always had for him. Like Kim, Geoff is taking AP courses so naturally they talked quite a bit in classes. Kim often found herself daydreaming about him and now you can’t help feeling her crush she grew on him growing on you. <br/>
<br/>
Once you get to the library you help Lisa with a few math problems but the angst and whole awkwardness of the whole situation you found yourself in makes you excuse yourself. <br/>
<br/>
Away from Lisa in between bookshelves, you quickly type into the group chat of Beta’s you created over the weekend, if anyone knows Geoff personally. <br/>
<br/>
A minute passes and Beta-Kelsey and Beta-Amanda both answer. You quickly text them privately how fast they could get a mask onto Geoff. Because the sooner you can turn him into a golem the faster you could break Lisa and Geoff up. And you can’t tell if its Will or Kim’s mind wanting it more..<br/>
<br/>
However the question remains should you put a mask on Lisa yourself, or get a Beta to place a mask on Geoff.<br/>
<br/>
Because as ashamed as you are to admit it by this time tomorrow you want to be dating Geoff. <span class="fngigffkflm3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311121211115115111151212
author_id: gogostopgogo
id: AZ3T3PPMW
title: The power of Kim Walsh
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>“Who are you and what did you do with the real Kim Walsh?” <br/>
<br/>
Your best friend Bailey Richardson says to you while walking down the hall to your last period, for half a second you momentarily panic wondering if one of your golems said something to someone, but then you realize its a figure of speech then you just roll your eyes.<br/>
<br/>
“Come on Bailey I’m being serious.” You say turning to Bailey who towers over you. Practically putting her generous bust at your eye level.<br/>
<br/>
“Yeah and I’m being dead serious to you Kim. Asking out Geoff after what happened with Lisa and Amanda at lunch today is seriously bad news!”<br/>
<br/>
 She is referring to what happened at the beginning of lunch period. Where Lisa had turned the hall to see her boyfriend Geoff sucking face with Beta-Amanda. (Both of whom were golems acting out your own orders you issued out over text.) When Lisa saw this apparently she flew into a blind rage. <br/>
<br/>
“Wait were you there to witness the fight?” You ask Bailey.<br/>
<br/>
“No, but I heard what happened, Lisa nearly threw Amanda on the ground by her hair. They started wrestling and punching each other, and now both are in the principles office…” <br/>
<br/>
For a brief second you are silently cheering inside as (Will Prescott) as you hear the news, kind of a perfect revenge on Lisa, the girl who scorned you last summer you think.<br/>
<br/>
“But seriously Kim these clothes you are wearing, you really want a guy to ask you out to prom that badly? You don’t need to dress like freakin Chelsea or Kendra to get a guy’s attention..” <br/>
<br/>
“Well yeah I would like one to ask me there but…” Your thought is interrupted when Beta-Deanna taps you on the shoulder from behind. “Oh hey Bailey I got to run I’ll text you later. We should catchup over coffee after school this week.” You say waving then walking away from Bailey with one of your golem spies. <br/>
<br/>
Beta-Deanna can’t help but suppress a big smile and laugh. “O.M.G so you know those like mask things we got from that golem kid Will this morning? Like I totally was able to confirm with golem Jack Li that he got a mask onto Andrea Vansworth in 3rd period, and she is totally going to be stuffing her face with Twinkies soon, so she better say goodbye to that little swim figure she has got going!” Deanna says with bright red cheeks from giggling.<br/>
<br/>
You are happy to hear this even though you "your Will-self" never had beef with Andrea. As it was Kim who never liked her. Even though the whole school thinks you (Kim) are just a shiny little beacon of joy and smiles, Kim held deep grudges for certain people like Andrea for kissing the guy she liked in Middle School. <br/>
<br/>
"Kim might seem like a push over but things work out for me in the end." you find yourself thinking with a mirthless smile.<br/>
<br/>
“Good work, you and Jack Li in following my orders to a tee. Now about the party I’m holding Friday at my house, how many people do you think will be showing up you think?” You ask Beta-Deanna for she is your certified gossip golem.<br/>
<br/>
“Well anyone who is anybody will probably instead skip yours and go to Catherine Muskov's party on Friday. Oh also the mask on Geoff has been removed like you asked, he is waking up behind the bleachers in the gym according to Jack Li."<br/>
<br/>
"Good" you think, "He should be waking up with no knowledge of his girlfriend seeing him make out with Amanda. Then her probably getting expelled because of the fight she started because of it. He should be single very soon. I should probably wait on trying asking him out, I need to get Catherine under my control if my party idea on Friday will work." <br/>
<br/>
But what is my next step you think flipping up Kim's notepad and scheduling assistant.<span class="fmjggefeffm3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311122
author_id: seuzz
title: Student Teachers
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"When are you going to see Chelsea?" you ask Marc.<br/>
<br/>
"After school. She hangs out in the gym, doesn't she? I was going to go look for her then."<br/>
<br/>
"What about?"<br/>
<br/>
Marc glances around. The hallway is crowded with people squeezing past, but he doesn't lower his voice when he answers. "Cheerleader stuff."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Marc!"<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
"Talk to <i>me</i> before you talk to Chelsea!"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," he says, but he sounds dubious. "When can you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tonight. Call me."<br/>
<br/>
"I want to talk to her—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Is it really a rush? What's it about, specifically?"<br/>
<br/>
He grimaces. "Okay, I'll call you tonight, around— <i>Fuck!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
"This is Friday, I got a date! I'm going out with Hannah!"<br/>
<br/>
You smirk at him in a way that makes him blush, and poke him in his hard, taut stomach. "That's gotta be more fun than talking to me about Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"That's why I wanna get it over with!"<br/>
<br/>
"You can't talk to Chelsea until you talk to me, or you're going to make whatever it is worse. So call me this weekend."<br/>
<br/>
He writhes in place. "I'm gonna be doing stuff all this weekend, probably! Oh, Jesus!"<br/>
<br/>
A voice sounds behind him—"Marc!"—and he squawks and wheels as his sister, Eva, materializes at his side. "Are you bothering Kim?" she demands.<br/>
<br/>
"No! I'm going! I guess I'll see you and Jess after school after all." He shoots you a beady-eyed glance, then dives into the coagulated hallway.<br/>
<br/>
You follow Eva into the room, where you share AP English IV. "Did you just save him from doing something stupid?" she asks you in a suspicion-laden voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I saved him from doing something," you reply, "but I don't know if it was stupid."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You certainly saved Marc from one stupid choice—putting himself in line to being immediately replaced by a doppelganger. But that's only because you suspect you can and will replace him later. For now you've got more strategic choices to make, and by the time the final bell has rung, you have made them.<br/>
<br/>
You need a secure place on campus, but as you consider it, you decide you really only need a place where you can copy and replace students, and that doesn't have to be the loft. Any classroom would work. And so would the office of an administrator.<br/>
<br/>
And a teacher or administrator could simply <i>order</i> your victim to report to that classroom or office, where you could quietly deal with them. And an adult—someone with an income—could be tapped for immediate expenses while you lay out plans for a more lucrative revenue stream.<br/>
<br/>
Kim normally spends her afternoons finishing up her homework in the office conference room, but after your talk with Mr. Staufford, you find yourself shying away from it, lest you get caught by him again and have to revive that talk about drug dealing. You don't like the thought of having to continue it.<br/>
<br/>
Then (mentally, not literally) you slap your forehead and exclaim, "Dur!" You should replace <i>Mr. Staufford</i> with a doppelganger!<br/>
<br/>
The thought's appeal isn't in the way it would spare you that conversation, though you'd be able to find out why he wants to have it, and with Kim of all people. Rather, Mr. Staufford is the most appealing of the administrators for your use. Of the four higher-ups—the principal, Mr. Sagansky, and the assistant principals—Mr. Staufford is the one real disciplinarian. He's the one always calling students out of class, the one cracking the whip in the hallways, and the one (you've heard) who is most impatient with Mr. Saganksy's weak-wristed way of running the school. Mr. Saganksy dresses like a tall and rangy cowboy, but he flinches from actually doing anything that would bring discipline back to the school. But Mr. Staufford (as Ms. Goretsky once told Kim) has the "lean and hungry look" of a man with ambitions to lead.<br/>
<br/>
(As for Garson Dow and Barbara Meek: Mr. Dow is an elderly man on his way to retirement, while Ms. Meek makes Mr. Saganksy look like a cross between Stalin and Attila the Hun. If she were running the school, there could be blood running down the corridors and she'd only chirp, "Hey, can someone get me some paper towels to blot that up with?")<br/>
<br/>
Maybe because of your talk with Marc, but you find yourself winding your way to the gym. The basketball team is practicing on one court, but you veer for the other court instead. (Westside was built during a spasm of concern about teen health, and the gym has not only a weight room on the mezzanine in the middle of the building, but two full-size workout courts on either side. You take a seat on some of the bleachers to do some thinking.<br/>
<br/>
You start by trying to run down a list of teachers in your mind, but you are quickly distracted by activity down on the court. There's some boys playing basketball, and thanks to Kim's extensive knowledge of the school you recognize them as members of the JV basketball squad. Younger members, too, sophomores probably. This wouldn't interest you, but you are drawn to the coach who is working with them. You can't quite place his name ... Oh yeah, it's Bruno. Bruno Something. No! Something Bruno.<br/>
<br/>
He's a young guy, just out of college. He's an assistant coach, actually, which is probably why he's showing a lot of enthusiasm. In fact, now that you think of it, you remember hearing from some of the guys like Laurent Delacroix how much he liked to hang out and play ball (of various kinds) with the more promising players in the P. E. classes he taught, even on his own time after school, like now. You remember some glassy-eyed grins being exchanged by the girls when some of the guys talked about this, but the boys were all insistent that it was only because Nathan—<br/>
<br/>
That's it! Nathan Bruno!<br/>
<br/>
—was just a big kid himself who was a serious competitor back when he was in high school. There was nothing creepy about it!<br/>
<br/>
It doesn't look creepy now down below, even when Coach Bruno stops directing from the sides, and dives in with a grin to steal the ball and score a basket himself before returning to the sideline.<br/>
<br/>
You take out your phone, open up a note-taking app, and type in Nathan Bruno's name. Then you add Mr. Staufford's, and Coach Gellman's, because Marc is captain of the soccer team and Coach Gellman coaches them. Then, because you've already replaced Chelsea with a doppelganger, you add Coach Tesla's name, even though she's a drunken old bag with a face like a frog and has as little to do with the cheerleader squad as possible.<br/>
<br/>
But all these (save Mr. Staufford) are coaches, and seem mostly confined to the gym. Maybe you should be looking inside the school proper, at a real teacher.<br/>
<br/>
After a few minutes you decide on:<span class="O"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135531311123
author_id: seuzz
title: Money to Make Your World Go Around
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"When are you going to see Chelsea?" you ask Marc.<br/>
<br/>
"After school. She hangs out in the gym, doesn't she? I was going to go look for her then."<br/>
<br/>
"What about?"<br/>
<br/>
Marc glances around. The hallway is crowded with people squeezing past, but he doesn't lower his voice when he answers. "Cheerleader stuff."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Marc!"<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
"Talk to <i>me</i> before you talk to Chelsea!"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," he says, but he sounds dubious. "When can you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tonight. Call me."<br/>
<br/>
"I want to talk to her—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Is it really a rush? What's it about, specifically?"<br/>
<br/>
He grimaces. "Okay, I'll call you tonight, around— <i>Fuck!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
"This is Friday, I got a date! I'm going out with Hannah!"<br/>
<br/>
You smirk at him in a way that makes him blush, and poke him in his hard, taut stomach. "That's gotta be more fun than talking to me about Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"That's why I wanna get it over with!"<br/>
<br/>
"You can't talk to Chelsea until you talk to me, or you're going to make whatever it is worse. So call me this weekend."<br/>
<br/>
He writhes in place. "I'm gonna be doing stuff all this weekend, probably! Oh, Jesus!"<br/>
<br/>
A voice sounds behind him—"Marc!"—and he squawks and wheels as his sister, Eva, materializes at his side. "Are you bothering Kim?" she demands.<br/>
<br/>
"No! I'm going! I guess I'll see you and Jess after school after all." He shoots you a beady-eyed glance, then dives into the coagulated hallway.<br/>
<br/>
You follow Eva into the room, where you share AP English IV. "Did you just save him from doing something stupid?" she asks you in a suspicion-laden voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I saved him from doing something," you reply, "but I don't know if it was stupid."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You certainly saved Marc from one stupid choice—putting himself in line to being immediately replaced by a doppelganger. But that's only because you suspect you can and will replace him later. For now you've got more strategic choices to make, and by the time the final bell has rung, you have made them.<br/>
<br/>
You need a secure location, both to do work and to make replacements, but you find yourself more preoccupied with the question of money; sub-heading, the getting of. It's true that you have enough masks to get yourself the doppelgangers you are planning, and that with contributions from those you could probably finance the supplies to make the additional masks your partners-to-be will need. But the idea of controlling a substantial stream of money, to spend on yourself and to spread around, influencing and corrupting others, is too enticing to pass up. So you'll spend a mask early getting financially secure. You've done two replacements without a secure location, you can surely do a third.<br/>
<br/>
Naturally your first thoughts go to the two students you know have money and enough of it to throw around: Kelsey Blankenship and Charles Hartlein. Kelsey is one of the queen bees of Westside, and would be a friend of Kim's if Kelsey had friends; the joke that privately circulates in her circle is that Kelsey doesn't have friends, she has <i>staff.</i> Her father owns a chain of car dealerships and is one of the richest men in the city, and Kelsey herself dresses in expensive, bohemian-Southwest clothes and drives a BMW. She was a cheerleader last year (and was on track to be captain of the squad this year, until she got sandbagged by Chelsea) and she carries herself like some kind of empress-in-exile on account of it. She is a vicious gossip though she pretends to be above all that, and really does run her little corner of Westside like it's a corporation or a government bureaucracy. So even without her money, Kelsey would be a prime candidate for duplication and replacement. She's a two-fer.<br/>
<br/>
So is Charles Hartlein, the flamboyantly out-of-the-closet president of the drama club. In fact, he's a lot like Kelsey, except male, gay, and genuinely bohemian rather than pretend. But like Kelsey he is a snob (but mostly toward jocks and the preppies and the "normies") and he loves to gossip. ("If you can't say something nice about someone," he likes to say, "come sit next to me.") He runs with—and runs—a crowd of arty types, particularly around the theater, and there's <i>very quiet because no one wants to get destroyed online by saying anything that could be construed as "phobic"</i> talk about him running a "gay Mafia" out of the school theater. He also is reputed to have a finger on the pulse of every sub-culture at the school, including things that aren't even <i>whispered about</i> but which are passed around with a wink, a nudge, and the promise that horrible things will be done to anyone who breathes a word about them.<br/>
<br/>
But he's also got money, even though one wouldn't know it to look at him. He dresses like he spent five dollars in a thrift store, but he has been known to toss around extravagant gifts with a flip of the wrist, just to make himself look good.<br/>
<br/>
Yet, even as you reflect on the advantages to be collected from replacements in either of those spots, you are pulled in another, more tempting direction. It's as you are drifting through the hallway toward the front office—where Kim typically does her homework after school, in the conference room—that you remember the talk Mr. Staufford had with you, about all the drug dealing that goes on at the school. It was that talk that got you thinking of money in the first place.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Gary Chen.</i> So far as Kim knows about the drug trade at school (and what Kim doesn't know about the drug trade could, in truth, just about be squeezed inside the school gymnasium) there's just one guy at school who is responsible for all the marijuana that gets sold there. If Chen were just expelled, the supply might completely vanish. Which isn't to say he's the only seller. There's lots of people who sell, but you've heard they all work for him. But maybe that's all just rumor and conjecture. But given the amount you've seen, he must be raking in hundreds of dollars a month at least.<br/>
<br/>
It's an enticing thought, all that money, plus (if the rumors are correct) the power that would go with controlling the person who controls the local trade. Gary is a psychopath, a small but sinewy Asian-American who can be lethal in a fight and has a hair trigger temper. Put him in charge of a gang, and he might be able to run the whole school by himself.<br/>
<br/>
But one thought will follow on another, and when you think of "gangs" and "marijuana" so close to each other, you will think of the football team. Not because they are some kind of dangerous, dope-dealing gang, but because half of them are massive users of weed, and because they also serve as security out at the Warehouse.<br/>
<br/>
You yourself have never been out to the Warehouse, and Kim has only been out once, but every kid in Saratoga Falls knows of it. It is, literally, a warehouse by the railroad tracks, in the decrepit ex-industrial part of town. Every Friday and Saturday a massive, high-school-students-only rave gets held there, with school bands, dancing, drinking, drug-taking, knife fights, and upstairs orgies. (Well ... the school bands, dancing, drinking, and drug-taking occur every Friday and Saturday night. There have been some bad fights there, too. But "orgies" might be exaggeration, though there are rooms and mattresses to rent.) There are no adults on hand, probably because whoever secretly runs the place has paid the cops off, and because things have never gotten so bad that cops have been needed. Largely that's on account of the "security" teams that patrol there, made up of some of the biggest and meanest guys on the football, lacrosse, and other teams from the two high schools. <br/>
<br/>
Again, Kim doesn't know much about how the Warehouse operates, but from some people she has heard that the football team doesn't just patrol the place, they secretly manage it as well, collecting and dividing a fairly substantial fee for their efforts.<br/>
<br/>
Chen has his string of dealers, but whoever manages security at the Warehouse could probably take his business away from him, and right quick too.<br/>
<br/>
But if you <i>really</i> wanted control of the Warehouse, and all the money that flows through it, maybe you should reach over and around to find the criminal elements behind it.<span class="O"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135532
author_id: seuzz
title: The Smart Set
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Just before the bell rings, ending your study hall, you DM Chelsea: <i>What class u have now?</i> You don't want to go to your last class of the day, and if you have a chance to talk to Chelsea again, you'd like it.<br/>
<br/>
Her answer comes a minute later. (Bless her, she must be dutifully checking her DMs at most every class break, to be sure of catching a message from you.) <i>Sudy hall in library,</i> she tells you, <i>with kendra and gloria.</i><br/>
<br/>
And just as you're reading it, you look up in time to see Kendra come striding in. She gives you the briefest of glances as she passes, as though you're bug.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra and Gloria are cheerleaders, and two of Chelsea's key sycophants. Kendra is a light-skinned black (her ancestors came from Kenya, she is always reminding people) with the physique of a track runner. Her hair is dyed a light crimson and falls in ringlets past her shoulders. Gloria is a lot plusher and more buxom, with thick, dark hair and pouting lips.<br/>
<br/>
Either of them, being close to Chelsea, would be easy to get to, and you'd have no problems then talking and texting with her from behind their faces. But Chelsea mentioned neither of them as a possible replacement, and you can understand why: they are already "servants" of Chelsea, and replacing them with magical clones would be redundant.<br/>
<br/>
Besides, you're leaning in another direction. Though her DMs told you that she has only a very cold relationship with Kelsey Blankenship and Amanda Ferguson, you figure that you've a fair chance of getting one of those two alone if an invitation came from Chelsea. She is, after all, at their level of the social pecking order, whereas Kelsey has never done anything but sneer derisively in your direction, and Amanda to your knowledge has never even acknowledged your existence.<br/>
<br/>
But then, as you're composing the DM in your head, Chelsea herself comes swinging into the library. She gives you a long look out of the corner of her eye as she passes you, then turns away when she reaches the table where Kendra is waiting. "Gloria's going to be late again, isn't she?" she sighs as she drops her backpack onto the table.<br/>
<br/>
"She usually is," Kendra says.<br/>
<br/>
"And it's not like her locker's on the other side of the school!"<br/>
<br/>
"It's disrespect, Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea clucks her tongue again . "Don't try to stir up shit, Kendra," she sneers. "Or if you're gonna try, at least try not to be so flipping obvious about it." She tosses her hair as she settles into her seat, and lifts up her phone to peer down her nose at it.<br/>
<br/>
You've seen enough, and you don't want to tempt Chelsea into acting "in character" with you. So you scoop up your stuff and (against your earlier intuition) scamper off to class. The delay gives you time to give more time to consider some alternatives to Kelsey and Amanda.<br/>
<br/>
You passed Marc Garner in the hallway as you ran for Astronomy, and that reminded you that he's been a recurrent candidate for replacement. He's handsome, smart, popular, is the captain of the soccer squad, and isn't the least bit stuck up so he'd be easy to approach and maybe even get alone. And he's not the only candidate who is a "Garner"; are his two sisters, Eva and Jessica, who are cheerleaders. In fact, through Chelsea it would certainly be easier to get to Eva or Jessica than to Marc, and you could probably get to them this afternoon, whereas Kelsey and Amanda are less certain.<br/>
<br/>
Also less certain than Eva or Jessica, but maybe even more attractive, is Catherine Muskov. She's on the track team, and is a soft and beautiful girl with a long, strong legs and a great bust. The attraction there, Chelsea reminded you, is that she's famous for the lazy, low-impact after-school parties that she has every day—kids spend most of the afternoons and evenings drifting in and out of her house, doing homework and lounging on social media. Whether she is an early replacement or not, she is definitely on your list of people to replace with a friendly and obedient doppelganger.<br/>
<br/>
And if you didn't want to rely on Chelsea's help, you're sure you could get Geoff Mansfield by himself, to replace with a magical clone.<br/>
<br/>
You hardly pay attention in your last class of the day as you go round and round, over and over these choices, imagining how you could get to them. At the end, though, you settle on:<span class="O"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135533
author_id: seuzz
title: Lives of the Party
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Just before the bell rings, ending your study hall, you DM Chelsea: <i>What class u have now?</i> You don't want to go to your last class of the day, and if you have a chance to talk to Chelsea again, you'd like it.<br/>
<br/>
Her answer comes a minute later. (Bless her, she must be dutifully checking her DMs at most every class break, to be sure of catching a message from you.) <i>Sudy hall in library,</i> she tells you, <i>with kendra and gloria.</i><br/>
<br/>
And just as you're reading it, you look up in time to see Kendra come striding in. She gives you the briefest of glances as she passes, as though you're bug.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra and Gloria are cheerleaders, and two of Chelsea's key sycophants. Kendra is a light-skinned black (her ancestors came from Kenya, she is always reminding people) with the physique of a track runner. Her hair is dyed a light crimson and falls in ringlets past her shoulders. Gloria is a lot plusher and more buxom, with thick, dark hair and pouting lips.<br/>
<br/>
Either of them, being close to Chelsea, would be easy to get to, and you'd have no problems then talking and texting with her from behind their faces. But Chelsea mentioned neither of them as a possible replacement, and you can understand why: they are already "servants" of Chelsea, and replacing them with magical clones would be redundant.<br/>
<br/>
Besides, you're leaning in another direction. The mermaid-like figure of Andrea Varnsworth is beckoning to your imagination.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea might be the sexiest girl at Westside, even in a class that includes Chelsea Cooper and Cindy Vredenburg. She is tall, toned and tanned, sculpted by hours and hours of swimming. In the early fall and late spring she wears short-shorts to school that expose long legs all the way down to her ankles, and in the winter she wears jeans so tight they might have to be sewn onto her. Her breasts are large and full, like torpedos, and she covers them with t-shirts that drape and pour off her bosom to dangle just below her navel. Her face is a little hard, a little Slavic, and her dark, cool eyes are perpetually hooded. But somehow that look of skeptical disdain makes her even sexier: it makes her a challenge to be broken down.<br/>
<br/>
She's going to be one of your recruits, eventually, there's no way she's going to dodge it. But she might be hard to get to. You've never seen her hanging out with anyone who looks like a close friend, but in her DMs Chelsea rattled off a lot of names that sound like they are friends of hers. You don't know much about Fatima Zahedi, Rebecca Sykes, or Brianna Gould, but if Chelsea vouches for them, not only as friends of Andrea's but as worthwhile recruits in their own right, then you're willing to trust her.<br/>
<br/>
The only two names in that circle that you recognize, though, are Jelena Petrovic and Sienna Goldman, who both play in garage bands. Of the two, Jelena, who is an out lesbian, is probably the more attractive and has more charisma, and as Chelsea gleefully noted, replacing a "pop star"—or what passes for one at Westside—with a doppelganger would be a definite stroke for you.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
But as you are composing a DM to Chelsea, the girl herself comes swinging into the library. She gives you a long look out of the corner of her eye as she passes you, then turns away when she reaches the table where Kendra is waiting. "Gloria's going to be late again, isn't she?" she sighs as she drops her backpack onto the table.<br/>
<br/>
"She usually is," Kendra says.<br/>
<br/>
"And it's not like her locker's on the other side of the school!"<br/>
<br/>
"It's disrespect, Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea clucks her tongue again . "Don't try to stir up shit, Kendra," she sneers. "Or if you're gonna try, at least try not to be so flipping obvious about it." She tosses her hair as she settles into her seat, and lifts up her phone to peer down her nose at it.<br/>
<br/>
You've seen enough, and you don't want to tempt Chelsea into acting "in character" with you. So you scoop up your stuff and (against your earlier intuition) scamper off to class.<br/>
<br/>
The delay gives you time to settle your own mind. When the final bell rings, you settle back in your desk to compose the DM to Chelsea: <i>Need your help with—</i><span class="O"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135534
author_id: seuzz
title: A Leopard Who Can Change His Sports
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Just before the bell rings, ending your study hall, you DM Chelsea: <i>What class u have now?</i> You don't want to go to your last class of the day, and if you have a chance to talk to Chelsea again, you'd like it.<br/>
<br/>
Her answer comes a minute later. (Bless her, she must be dutifully checking her DMs at most every class break, to be sure of catching a message from you.) <i>Sudy hall in library,</i> she tells you, <i>with kendra and gloria.</i><br/>
<br/>
And just as you're reading it, you look up in time to see Kendra come striding in. She gives you the briefest of glances as she passes, as though you're bug.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra and Gloria are cheerleaders, and two of Chelsea's key sycophants. Kendra is a light-skinned black (her ancestors came from Kenya, she is always reminding people) with the physique of a track runner. Her hair is dyed a light crimson and falls in ringlets past her shoulders. Gloria is a lot plusher and more buxom, with thick, dark hair and pouting lips.<br/>
<br/>
Either of them, being close to Chelsea, would be easy to get to, and you'd have no problems then talking and texting with her from behind their faces. But Chelsea mentioned neither of them as a possible replacement, and you can understand why: they are already "servants" of Chelsea, and replacing them with magical clones would be redundant.<br/>
<br/>
Besides, you're leaning in another direction. <br/>
<br/>
You've been threatened by Gordon Black and Steve Patterson, two of the biggest and meanest guys in school. But there are others at the school who, if not as big and definitely not as mean, can stand toe to toe with them.<br/>
<br/>
At the top of the list would be the school's quarterback and the captain of the wrestling squad. The former, Cameron Huber, is a beefy, hairy guy, certainly with enough muscles to deter Black and Patterson, and he's pretty popular around the school. He wasn't on the list that Chelsea sent you, though, but Laurent Delacroix was. Laurent isn't as tall as the basketball players, but he's got a lot of muscles and a cheeky grin, and Chelsea's DMs confirmed rumors you've heard, that he and the other wrestlers have a kind of "Pussy Patrol" that scores with lots of girls.<br/>
<br/>
There are lots of other male jocks you could copy and replace, but Chelsea went out of her way to list some girl athletes. The three she named—Stephanie Wyatt, Reagan Hackett, and Maggie Crenshaw—aren't listed because of their team connections, but because (Chelsea says) they are at the core of some tight-knit groups who, she says, could "stand a little handling."<br/>
<br/>
But as you are pondering these choices, Chelsea herself comes swinging into the library. She gives you a long look out of the corner of her eye as she passes you, then turns away when she reaches the table where Kendra is waiting. "Gloria's going to be late again, isn't she?" she sighs as she drops her backpack onto the table.<br/>
<br/>
"She usually is," Kendra says.<br/>
<br/>
"And it's not like her locker's on the other side of the school!"<br/>
<br/>
"It's disrespect, Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea clucks her tongue again . "Don't try to stir up shit, Kendra," she sneers. "Or if you're gonna try, at least try not to be so flipping obvious about it." She tosses her hair as she settles into her seat, and lifts up her phone to peer down her nose at it.<br/>
<br/>
You've seen enough, and you don't want to tempt Chelsea into acting "in character" with you. So you scoop up your stuff and (against your earlier intuition) scamper off to class.<br/>
<br/>
The delay gives you time to settle your own mind. When the final bell rings, you settle back in your desk to compose the DM to Chelsea: <i>Need your help with—</i><span class="O"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211135535
author_id: seuzz
title: Prizes Behind the Curtain
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Just before the bell rings, ending your study hall, you DM Chelsea: <i>What class u have now?</i> You don't want to go to your last class of the day, and if you have a chance to talk to Chelsea again, you'd like it.<br/>
<br/>
Her answer comes a minute later. (Bless her, she must be dutifully checking her DMs at most every class break, to be sure of catching a message from you.) <i>Sudy hall in library,</i> she tells you, <i>with kendra and gloria.</i><br/>
<br/>
And just as you're reading it, you look up in time to see Kendra come striding in. She gives you the briefest of glances as she passes, as though you're bug.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra and Gloria are cheerleaders, and two of Chelsea's key sycophants. Kendra is a light-skinned black (her ancestors came from Kenya, she is always reminding people) with the physique of a track runner. Her hair is dyed a light crimson and falls in ringlets past her shoulders. Gloria is a lot plusher and more buxom, with thick, dark hair and pouting lips.<br/>
<br/>
Either of them, being close to Chelsea, would be easy to get to, and you'd have no problems then talking and texting with her from behind their faces. But Chelsea mentioned neither of them as a possible replacement, and you can understand why: they are already "servants" of Chelsea, and replacing them with magical clones would be redundant.<br/>
<br/>
Besides, you're leaning in another direction. <br/>
<br/>
There are several names on Chelsea's list that you don't know, but Chelsea has provided some thumbnails. George Basham she calls a "rich so-and-so" who "runs with a posse of other rich so-and-sos." It sounds like another group like Kelsey's, and if Kelsey is worth replacing with a clone, then one of these guys—Basham, apparently—would be worth it as well.<br/>
<br/>
Similarly, Chelsea tells you of Kennedy Palmer, who used to be friends with Kelsey, but she got frozen out for trying to undercut Kelsey with some vicious rumormongering. She suggests that Kennedy would be really good for undercutting some of the more stuck-up elements at school.<br/>
<br/>
The same train of thought apparently led Chelsea to suggest Cristina Ramon, who she describes as a pushy busybody who runs a gang of trailer-trash girls. <i>Normally don't care thinking abt her and her type,</i> Chelsea sniffs, <i>but she's awful in a way we might like to have on our side.</i><br/>
<br/>
On the other hand, Chelsea mentions Brianna Kirschke only in passing, as someone who would be a good agent if you want someone inside the marching band. <br/>
<br/>
Finally, she mentions Sydney McGlynn, who is a new girl in town. She was a star cheerleader at her old school (somewhere in Kansas) and she seems to be rapidly building up a strong circle of influence. From between the lines, you get the impression that the old Chelsea was frightened of her, though the new Chelsea says that the girl might make "a good ally."<br/>
<br/>
As you are pondering these choices, Chelsea herself comes swinging into the library. She gives you a long look out of the corner of her eye as she passes you, then turns away when she reaches the table where Kendra is waiting. "Gloria's going to be late again, isn't she?" she sighs as she drops her backpack onto the table.<br/>
<br/>
"She usually is," Kendra says.<br/>
<br/>
"And it's not like her locker's on the other side of the school!"<br/>
<br/>
"It's disrespect, Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea clucks her tongue again . "Don't try to stir up shit, Kendra," she sneers. "Or if you're gonna try, at least try not to be so flipping obvious about it." She tosses her hair as she settles into her seat, and lifts up her phone to peer down her nose at it.<br/>
<br/>
You've seen enough, and you don't want to tempt Chelsea into acting "in character" with you. So you scoop up your stuff and (against your earlier intuition) scamper off to class.<br/>
<br/>
The delay gives you time to settle your own mind. When the final bell rings, you settle back in your desk to compose the DM to Chelsea: <i>Need your help with—</i><span class="O"></span></span></div></div>


path: 1131221115
author_id: rugal
title: The Mole Queen
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You hold the possibilities in your mind, mentally juggling them as you wait. Go through with your plan an essentially betray Chelsea or trust her? If you do double cross her, then what do you do? How do you use her, and everything else, to your benefit? In a way, wouldn't that make you no better than Chelsea, doing the same thing that you were so worried about her doing? As the mask emerges from her face you snatch it up and quickly seal it, then you stop to take a look at it. Chelsea will begin to stir soon so if you're going to put her under your control, then you need to do it now.<br/>
<br/>
The doubts and second thoughts, however, are too much and instead you simply lower yourself int the chair you'd been sitting in, mask in hand, as you take the hairs she'd give you and place them into a small ziplock bag and place them and the paste into your backpack. Eventually, she begins to make a bit of noise and begins to stir and you watch as she squirms and moans and her eyes slowly lift themselves open.<br/>
<br/>
"You alright?" you ask as she straightens herself.<br/>
<br/>
"Wha--? Am I--" she stops as she shakes her head and turns to face you. "So it worked?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah... well, the mask is sealed at least," you say as you hand it to her for her to look at. "I still have to make that new paste, though, since I don't have any of the stuff here."<br/>
<br/>
She studies the mask for a moment, turning it over and looking at it from every angle, before eventually handing it back to you. "You'll have to make another mask as well, won't you?" she asks. You gradually watch as her expression turns from serious to amused. "You know, Will, you probably could have brought that gunk with you and used it on my mask, right?"<br/>
<br/>
You gulp and nearly piss yourself at that.<br/>
<br/>
"Like, just use it while I was out and put the mask on me and then I could've been your slave." Her eyes light up as she continues and her grin widens. "Or maybe you could've made a mask of yourself and put <i>that</i> on me and then put <i>my</i> mask on yourself. It's not like I could've done anything about it, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I..." you start and then pause. What are you going to do; admit that you <i>were</i> going to do exactly what she said? No, of course not. You can't do that. So you shake your head and vigorously deny it. "I never thought anything like that. You've been really good to me so far, you know? You're, uh, way nicer than people think... um... that is--"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea raises up a hand to silence you. "Oh jeez, come on Will! You don't have to lie, you know? I know you thought about it, anybody would've."<br/>
<br/>
Despite what she's saying, though, you can detect no anger in her voice and in fact she gives you a smile that makes you want to melt. "But you've been helping <i>me</i> out without, like, acting like you're expecting anything." She then leans over and places a hand on top of your own and you damn near do. "You seem like a decent guy so I thought it was safe to trust you."<br/>
<br/>
"It's nice to know that <i>somebody</i> sees that," you blurt out to your own surprise.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's too, as she pulls back and her eyes open just a little bit wider. "Somebody... oh!" she exclaims. "You were with that one girl, hmm, what's her name again? Kelsey's friend..."<br/>
<br/>
"Lisa," you mutter simply. "I'm surprised you'd even know about that."<br/>
<br/>
"Right, Lisa Yarborough!" she exclaims. "And of <i>course</i> I'd know about it. Like, gosh, Deanna was just telling <i>anyone</i> who'd listen about all the shit that Kelsey was talking behind Lisa's back." However, she tempers the excitement, looking more serious and leaning forward. "That wasn't fair, it? What Lisa did to you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well... no, it still makes me a little upset," you admit, although trying to downplay it.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course it did, why wouldn't it?" she asks. "You know, everything that Kelsey was saying might have filtered back to Lisa and maybe she was thinking... oh, but I'm just spitballing so don't mind me."<br/>
<br/>
You can't help but wince at that. "I don't think that Lisa would be that petty," you respond weakly.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe, maybe not. It's not like you or I know her all that well," Chelsea states. "But Lisa's friendly with a couple of girls on the squad, right? Eva and Yumi and them. And those girls... did they ever tell you how Lisa did or didn't feel?"<br/>
<br/>
"Did they--" you stop yourself and sigh. "No, they didn't. Whenever I try to ask them, too, they just try to avoid it and brush me off."<br/>
<br/>
"Mhm, that's not surprising," Chelsea coos. "Girls can be very sensitive about this kind of stuff, you see. But maybe there's people Yumi and Lisa would be more willing to talk to, if not you, right?"<br/>
<br/>
That gives you pause. "You mean like Jenny Ashton?" you ask, throwing out the name of Yumi's best friend. You're not sure how well she actually knows Lisa, though.<br/>
<br/>
"Her or one of the Garners. Lin. Others, too, I'm sure."<br/>
<br/>
Yeah, of course she'd go right for the other cheerleaders. Chelsea's been awfully nice to you so far but at the end of the day, she's still Chelsea Cooper and still concerned largely with further securing her own position as the unquestioned captain of the Westside cheerleading squad. "So what you're saying, then, is that you want to use the mask on someone close to Yumi," you state.<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't that what you suggested?" she asks with a knowing grin. "I do like your suggestion of Jenny, too. That's a good one."<br/>
<br/>
"Jenny? Really!?" you exclaim. "I was just throwing names out there. Isn't she a little, you know, different from you? And not a cheerleader?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who better to keep an eye on Yumi and Cindy and all of them than their closest friend? The person they'd least suspect of being a spy?" Chelsea responds. "Besides, people -- most of all them -- might look side-eyed if I was hanging out with you as myself. But would anyone find it suspicious if Jenny was?"<br/>
<br/>
That's true and a fair point. Jenny's not necessarily one of your best friends but you've always gotten along with her and though you've never hung out with her without James and Carson and others present, you don't think it'd be too odd if you did either.<br/>
<br/>
"And as for that cheerleader thing, well," Chelsea's face twists into a smirk, "perhaps she'd consider trying out if a space opened up, hmm?"<br/>
<br/>
That almost makes you fall out of your chair. Jenny Ashton, a cheerleader? Jenny Ashton wearing that sporty top with the school logo emblazoned on the front, her hair tied back in a ponytail, waving pompoms as her skirt sweeps left and right... well, actually, it's a site that's as welcome as it is ridiculous now that you think about it.<br/>
<br/>
"I'd have to be the one to get her, though," you say. "I don't think she'd go off with you in a hundred years. That might be hard too because I'd have to pry her away from James and everyone."<br/>
<br/>
"James.. that's the boy she's always with, right?" Chelsea asks. "I guess that could cause problems too if he, like, likes her and suddenly you and 'her' are spending time together."<br/>
<br/>
"Um, well, I wasn't thinking of that--"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, well, then just give me that mask we made and then bring me another tomorrow before school and I'll just grab someone myself. It can't really be that hard, right?"<span class="O"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122112
author_id: seuzz
title: Confusions, Confessions, Temptations
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Actually, you don't make any conscious decisions about what to do—or what not to do—so on Monday afternoon, when Gordon hauls you into the bathroom to tell you that he's got a bunch of sandbags that need to be moved from his VW Bug into your truck—<br/>
<br/>
"Right now?" you squeak. He's got you pinned inside one of the toilet stalls, and even though he's only a duplicate of Gordon, he's enough like the real one that you can't help squeaking when he glares at you.<br/>
<br/>
"When the fuck else would I mean? If I say I got—"<br/>
<br/>
"You weren't supposed to pick them up until tonight!"<br/>
<br/>
"You arguing with me, you little shit?" he snarls, and bends your head toward the open toilet. "I say I got—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, alright! I'll help you move them!"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh-uh." He pushes your head down until your nose is only an inch from the quivering water. The stench of piss and dirty porcelain fills your nostrils. "You're gonna move that shit and I'm gonna watch. Chelsea didn't say nothin' about <i>me</i> having to move it, only about me getting it and bringing it up here."<br/>
<br/>
You accede (like you have a choice) and Gordon, with his hand clapped on the back of your neck, frog-marches you down the front hallway that runs past the library, main office, cafeteria and gym, and out into the student parking lot. He refuses to move his Bug to where your truck is parked, and there are no empty spots near his car, so you're forced to lug four hundred pounds of graveyard earth two sacks at a time halfway across the parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, and Chelsea says she wants to see that book or whatever it is," Gordon tells you when you're done.<br/>
<br/>
You nod glumly, get a tardy slip from the office, and walk into Calculus late.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You figured Chelsea wanted to see you after school, but she doesn't answer your texts. Instead, you find her in the gym after the final bell rings. You were meaning to look for her in the fuck room, but she's sitting on the bleachers with Kendra Saunders and Gloria Rea, and from the narrowed look she shoots you, you can tell that she doesn't want you talking to her in public. And when you notice the basketball team trudging out of the boys' locker room in their uniforms, you hurriedly run out.<br/>
<br/>
You're almost to your truck—if she doesn't want to talk to you, you'll be happy to go home—when you get her text: <i>wait in library til u hear from me.</i> You grumble at the bossiness of the directive, but trudge back the length of the school as ordered. At least you'll be able to get some homework done, assuming that Chelsea means to sit all through after-school basketball practice. <br/>
<br/>
But you stop dead in the doorway when you see the four girls sitting at a table in the middle of the library.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Chelsea listens with a thoughtful but puzzled expression as you explain the new spell to her. Her arms and legs are crossed, but that's clearly on account of the chill, not because she's mad at you. You're sitting on her back patio—did you ever think you'd be at Chelsea Cooper's house, alone with her? No!—by the swimming pool. But the weather is far too cool to think about swimming. You're out here, away from her family, for the privacy it affords.<br/>
<br/>
She nods, but you're far from sure that she's understood what you told her about the new spell. But then, you're not sure you understand it either. After a moment's thought, though, she gives the explanation back to you in a slightly different form.<br/>
<br/>
"So let's say we had two of these masks," she says after a long pause. "One of, um, you, and one of Steve." You assume she means Steve Patterson, Gordon's goonish best friend, but it doesn't really matter. You nod as she holds her hands up, palm forward. <br/>
<br/>
"And let's say," she continues as she moves her hands through the air, "that we put this stuff, the stuff this spell makes, inside your mask. And we put your mask on Steve. It turns him into <i>you,</i> right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. But the new sealant—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, the new sealant," Chelsea says, and her eyes narrow. "What happens to Steve? I mean, is it still him, he's just disguised as you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, yes. Sort of." You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue. "But I think he kind of goes away. Anyway, he would act like me, not like himself. I mean, he wouldn't act like he's Steve-but-disguised-like-me. He'd just be, well, me." <i>Which,</i> you think miserably, <i>is a pretty stupid thing to be.</i> "So there'd be two us."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea nods again. "Until <i>you</i> put on <i>his</i> mask, right? Then you'd be disguised as <i>him.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"I think so." You scratch your back, which has started to itch fiercely. "You know, I'm not—"<br/>
<br/>
"So it'd be like a body swap story," Chelsea says. "Except in this case, only <i>you</i> know you've been body swapped. Right? 'Cos Steve's been, like, hypnotized into acting like you."<br/>
<br/>
You bob your head up and down. She's got it, she's repeated what you told her, using her own examples instead of the examples that you used.<br/>
<br/>
"This is very interesting, Will," she says, and she lets her gaze go distant. You don't know what she's thinking, but the implications seem obvious.<br/>
<br/>
You could use the new spell to take over someone else's life without yourself disappearing.<br/>
<br/>
When the silence is unbearable, you start to say something, but she silences you with a gesture. You slouch and stare at the back of her house—it's a very nice house, in one of the tonier parts of the city, not far from where your aunt and uncle live—and drum your fingers.<br/>
<br/>
"Who were those girls in the library, again?" Chelsea asks, and fixes her attention on you.<br/>
<br/>
You gape at the unexpected question.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Those girls in the library. The ones you saw when you went in to do homework while waiting for Chelsea.</i> That's who she's asking about.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yumi Saito, Jenny Ashton, Eva Garner. And Lisa Yarborough. <br/>
<br/>
At a table, talking and laughing, the way friends do.<br/>
<br/>
Before you and Lisa broke up—<br/>
<br/>
You wince. She </i>said<i> you were never even dating in the first place.<br/>
<br/>
—it would have been a very natural and easy thing to join them. To sit and laugh and joke and be friendly with them all, maybe with your arm around Lisa's shoulders. <br/>
<br/>
But now? With you and Lisa busted up—or whatever—you couldn't do that. It would be way too awkward. What would Lisa say or think? And what would the other girls say or think if you barged in on them? </i>How rude! Did you actually think you were still the same kind of friends as before????<i><br/>
<br/>
But you couldn't sit at another table, either. They'd see you, and they'd know why you didn't join them. Even if they didn't buzz about it in front of Lisa, the other three would talk about it afterward. They'd talk about you, and what a loser you are, and how pathetic you looked sitting by yourself with your back to them, and how you really should just go away ...<br/>
<br/>
For a moment you stood paralyzed in the doorway.<br/>
<br/>
Then you slunk away, and wound up sitting behind the music wing, knees drawn up to your face, and feeling like you'd sprained your heart.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Uh, Yumi Saito," you murmur. "Jenny Ashton, Eva Garner and, uh—" You feel your ears redden. "Lisa Yarborough."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea remains grave. "And you and Lisa used to go out?"<br/>
<br/>
You shrug stiffly, and your eyes drop. <br/>
<br/>
<i>Chelsea drew it out of you, somehow. When you got to her house—she'd texted you at four-thirty, telling you where to meet—she asked how you kept busy while waiting for her to finish in the gym. You'd said something that caught her attention, and then something about the way she listened, with a very intense look on her face when you mentioned the names of those girls ... Well, your first cryptic words had thickened into a stream and then burst into a torrential confession of all your romantic confusions and frustrations.<br/>
<br/>
And Chelsea listened, and asked exactly the right questions to get you to tell her everything. Not once did she seem bored or contemptuous, which amazed you and left you feeling shamefaced but weirdly grateful ...</i><br/>
<br/>
She pats your knee now, and you tense and thrill all over. "And they never even told you why Lisa ended it." She clucks her tongue. "Girls can be such cunts about things like that. I know, I'm one of them." She flashes you a conspiratorial smile.<br/>
<br/>
"And you know," she adds as she stretches and relaxes in her chair, "we could do something about that. With these masks, I mean. And the new spell."<br/>
<br/>
Your blink. "Like what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like spying. Or getting back at Lisa, if that's what you want. Oh, but you probably don't want <i>that.</i> But if you did—"<br/>
<br/>
She pauses, then suddenly leans forward. "Cindy," she says. "Vredenburg, I mean. She's a nasty gossip. She could really ruin Lisa's reputation if she wanted to, just by talking, by stirring things up, you know. But you probably don't want to do that."<br/>
<br/>
You stare at Chelsea, and feel the hairs on the back of your neck go up. <i>What is she suggesting?</i> "Do what?" you echo. "How could I get Cindy to—?"<br/>
<br/>
"By <i>being</i> her, obviously." Chelsea smiles. "With the masks, only instead of you and Steve, it's you and Cindy. Then you, as Cindy, could go around and— Oh!" She sits back again. "But you don't want to do that. Probably. You just want to find out what Lisa was thinking.<br/>
<br/>
"And that would be easy too," she continues. "The same trick, but with you body-swapping with Yumi. Or with Jenny. You and Eva? No, you and Yumi." She nods, as though that's the final word. "Yumi's ears are full of grasshoppers, is what my grandmother would say."<br/>
<br/>
If you weren't in a daze before, you're in a daze after Chelsea smiles brightly at you.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121
author_id: seuzz
title: Chelsea's Special Touch
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I don't understand," you croak. "What are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm talking about doing a body swap," Chelsea says. "You and Yumi. Or Cindy. Depending on what you want to do." She smiles.<br/>
<br/>
It's a warm smile. A friendly smile. A gentle and encouraging smile.<br/>
<br/>
But there's something behind it. There's a slight metallic gleam in her eye, and a tightness at the corner of her lips. The skin between your shoulder blades prickles.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I get that," you stammer. "What I don't get is <i>why</i> you want me to—" Your voice fails when you can't find the words.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's eyes twinkle, like polished steel. "To help you out, Will. To help you—"<br/>
<br/>
She pulls her chair toward you; the metal legs squeal and shriek against the concrete.<br/>
<br/>
"Lisa really hurt you, didn't she? And I can tell you're trying to be <i>really fair</i> to her, you know, being all noble about letting her go. But down in <i>here,</i> right?" She pushes her fingers into her chest, and your eyes boggle slightly at her breasts. "It hurts. Doesn't it?"<br/>
<br/>
You tense all over, and your limbs stiffen. Chelsea is right. It does hurt, and you're surprised at the hurt that you feel, now that she is pressing and prodding at it the wound.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." Your voice cracks. "I mean, when you break up with someone, you—" The air thickens in your throat and lungs; it's like breathing peanut butter. <br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's smile turns pitying. "You've been <i>burying</i> it, haven't you, Will? Ignoring it like it will go away. But it <i>won't</i> go away, don't you see? Not if you don't face it and work through it. You've got to <i>do</i> something about it."<br/>
<br/>
"Like what? And I've been doing okay," you protest. "I haven't even really been thinking about Lisa." Well, not as much as you were right after the breakup.<br/>
<br/>
"Then why did you run away from her and her friends in the library?" Chelsea asks. She purses her lips. "You said you felt embarrassed. You said you felt like—"<br/>
<br/>
You know what it felt like when you saw Lisa and her friends in the library. You felt excluded. You felt like you'd been cast out. <br/>
<br/>
Chelsea puts it more brutally, though, in words you hadn't used when talking to her. "You felt like they'd held a trial and found you guilty and you <i>didn't even know what your crime was.</i>" She sits back, and her smile combines pity and contempt.<br/>
<br/>
And she's right. That's exactly what it felt like. You push your fingers under your cap and run them through your stiff hair. <i>How does Chelsea know what it felt like? How could she nail it so exactly?</i><br/>
<br/>
The patio door slams, and Gordon, a fell light in his eyes, comes trudging down the path to the pool. "So here you are. What are you two—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Gordon." Chelsea's voice has the sharp point and weighty heft of a hurled javelin. "Go back in the house. We're not ready for you. Talk to Jordan. That's my brother," she explains to you. (Must have been the slovenly college student with an unkempt beard and bed head you saw lounging on a sofa with his phone as Chelsea led you through her living room.) Gordon turns around with a snort.<br/>
<br/>
"That's another reason I can tell you're not over Lisa," Chelsea says. Now her tone has turned prim. "I didn't want to talk to you about, uh, what you tried doing to Gordon. I mean, aside from it being pretty <i>obvious</i> what you were trying to." Her lips disappear even as she smiles, and the pixie-like expression she tries forcing onto her face isn't very convincing. "At least, I assume you tried doing that to him because you were trying to get, uh, close to me."<br/>
<br/>
You turn very red and hang your head. <i>Fucking Caleb, and all the trouble he's got you in. Trying to make a mask of Gordon so he could use a disguise to get fuckably close to Chelsea, and doing it </i>with a copy of your face and body<i> so that he wouldn't be recognized if he got caught. Which he was. Now Chelsea is convinced it was </i>you<i> who tried that stunt.</i><br/>
<br/>
"That was a pretty desperate thing to do, Will," she continues more softly, "and I don't think you'd have done it if deep down inside you weren't really ... <i>really angry</i> with Lisa. I can tell you're a good guy. So it was the <i>resentment</i> that made you do it. Right? And I think now you kind of realize it. Don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Do you realize it? Is that something that's going on with you? It certainly stung you, and it stung you a lot harder that you'd ever have thought it would, when you saw Lisa and her friends in the library and you realized you couldn't join them ... That you couldn't even let yourself be <i>seen</i> by them.<br/>
<br/>
But what does this have to do with what Chelsea said about the masks? About using one of them to ... to <i>body swap</i> with Yumi or Cindy?<br/>
<br/>
"It would help you to come to terms with what happened," Chelsea says patiently when you ask her that. "You're still hurt by what Lisa did to you, and you still don't understand it." She shrugs again. "You can't get anyone to talk to you about it, right? Didn't you say something like that?"<br/>
<br/>
You suppose you must have. "Eva and Jessica—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, Eva and Jessica," Chelsea sighs. "I know all about <i>them.</i> Probably they think they're doing you a favor by not talking to you about Lisa. Or, I don't know, maybe they even—" She breaks off.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe what?" Your heart feels like it's sinking under a leaden weight.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea gives you a sidelong look. "Did you hang out with them a lot when you and Lisa were going out? Mm-hmm," she says when you nod. "But did they seem like they were <i>happy</i> to have you around?"<br/>
<br/>
You don't reply. But no, you always felt kind of awkward in their presence. Sure, they acted friendly enough, but they also seemed kind of strained, like they were holding something back around you. Jessica especially seemed like she was trying hard not to say something nasty. Eva looked embarrassed.<br/>
<br/>
At least they didn't treat you with open contempt, the way Kelsey Blankenship and Amanda Ferguson did.<br/>
<br/>
But Chelsea is still talking: "There might have been something else going on. There probably was. I mean, I know about these things, and I know how girls can be about their friends' boyfriends." She smiles tightly.<br/>
<br/>
And she leans forward, so that your knees are actually touching. Your cock stiffens.<br/>
<br/>
"If you got yourself in with these girls," she says very quietly, "if you got yourself in with them so you could talk to them about it, get the inside story, really get to know what they were thinking—"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I get it!" you exclaim.<br/>
<br/>
"Yumi," Chelsea declares as she sits back in her chair. "She's the best place to get this kind of thing. I don't mean, you <i>talk</i> to her. I mean, if you go to people and they think you're Yumi, then they'll tell you—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah yeah, I get it." You lean forward to rest your elbows on your knees, in order to hide the erection that's unfurling despite the shivers that wrack your frame.<br/>
<br/>
"Or Cindy," says Chelsea. "She's friends with them too, <i>and</i> if you want to <i>do</i> something about it all, she's the perfect—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to do anything to Lisa," you protest. "I don't want to ... to ... ruin her or anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course not," says Chelsea soothingly. "But if Eva or Jessica were talking about you behind your back to Lisa, if they or someone else were sabotaging you—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Like Kelsey and Amanda probably were,</i> you think.<br/>
<br/>
"—well, she's the perfect person to get some of your own back."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea falls silent behind a cat-like smile.<br/>
<br/>
You wipe at the cold sweat that has begun to pop out all over you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
How long you sit hunched in that chair, you're not sure. It feels like hours. At the same time, it feels like it's only a few seconds.<br/>
<br/>
It can't have been that long, though, because Chelsea hardly stirs before you start speaking.<br/>
<br/>
"Yumi's a friend," you say, and you clasp and unclasp your hands. "I don't want to hurt her."<br/>
<br/>
"You won't," Chelsea says. She leans forward again. "The way you explained it, it doesn't <i>sound</i> like this new spell would hurt her."<br/>
<br/>
"But what we're talking about, what <i>you're</i> talking about! I mean—" You lick your lips; they and your tongue are very dry. "A ... a <i>body swap!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"You're only <i>borrowing</i> her body for a little while. You play Yumi, and we hide her under your mask. Then when we take it off her—"<br/>
<br/>
"But what if she remembers all that stuff after the mask is off her?"<br/>
<br/>
"She won't. Will she?" Chelsea's tone sharpens.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. I don't even know if it'll hurt her! Maybe it'll—" You swallow. "Maybe it'll turn her into a thing like Gordon turned himself into!"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea frowns. "The way you explained it to me, Will, I don't think—"<br/>
<br/>
"But I don't know!"<br/>
<br/>
"Then we'll have to try it out," Chelsea briskly declares. She gets up, and you scramble up after her. "With someone who isn't a friend."<br/>
<br/>
"Like who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, there's lots of assholes in school who wouldn't be missed," she declares. "And if we screw them up, we can just bring them back the way we brought Gordon back." She backs to the house. You trot behind, hardly knowing what to say.<br/>
<br/>
And you wind up only mumbling "Okay" when she tells you that she needs a mask from you. "Make it like Gordon's," she says. "You know, so it can get all the memories and stuff. And make some of that new stuff too, that you told me about. That's the whole point of doing this, you know."</span></div></div>


path: 11312211211
author_id: seuzz
title: Taming a Terror
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Among the supplies you already have two half-finished masks. There is one that Gordon had made but hadn't finished, and there's the one you made as part of your own experiments. Gordon's is farther along but still far from complete, so that's the one you tackle that night.<br/>
<br/>
It turns out to be very long and fruitless work. A mask, right after it's made, is a pale, grayish color, like ash, and it has to be polished until it is blue. Gordon's mask is still mostly white, but there are streaks of blue in it. After an hour of rubbing at it with a cloth, you confess to yourself that it's going to take a lot of serious elbow grease to get the thing done. Hours and hours.<br/>
<br/>
Oddly, it's your dad who saves you from that kind of drudgery. He knocks on your bedroom door while you're working, and comes in without an invite. "When's the last time you had the oil changed in your truck?" he asks. Then he asks, "What's that?" before you can hide the mask.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, project for school?" you stammer. "Helping someone out?"<br/>
<br/>
"Doing what?"<br/>
<br/>
"An art project? And it has to be polished?" <br/>
<br/>
He grunts. "The oil in your truck, when did you change it last?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't remember."<br/>
<br/>
He sighs. "Then stop by a lube shop on your way home from school tomorrow. Here." He tosses you his credit card. "Put it on that."<br/>
<br/>
Then he cocks his head. "That thing has to be hand polished? Let me see."<br/>
<br/>
Reluctantly you had it over, and he peers skeptically at it, and rubs it with his thumb. "What's it supposed to look like when it's done?"<br/>
<br/>
"Blue all over."<br/>
<br/>
"How long have you been working at it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Off and on, um, six hours."<br/>
<br/>
His head shoots up. "<i>Six?</i> You've been jerking around—?" <br/>
<br/>
He snaps his mouth shut and gestures you to follow him. You have to comply, naturally, though you hate to.<br/>
<br/>
He leads you down to the garage, and from a large box he takes a thing that looks like a giant, motorized mushroom. He plugs it in.<br/>
<br/>
"Here. I don't know why I'm helping you out. But try it with this." He turns the motor on, and the floppy pad starts rotating fast with a whine. "See if that makes it go faster. It's a polisher."<br/>
<br/>
"Er, thanks!" you exclaim, but he just rolls his eyes and leaves you to it.<br/>
<br/>
But due to that timely intervention, you are able to finish the mask Gordon started in only thirty minutes, and the one you made in another forty-five.<br/>
<br/>
Your dad doesn't even look up at you from the TV when you pass him on the way back to your room.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Tuesday morning. The Westside student parking lot. Early.<br/>
<br/>
Very early.</i><br/>
<br/>
It's mostly empty, so you've been able to get a space close to the school for once. But even though the building is open, you cower in the cab of your truck as Gordon shuffles toward you.<br/>
<br/>
You have the finished mask with you, as per the instructions Chelsea texted you last night. It meant having to get up before dawn, and having to stop at the elementary school basement to grab up all the mask elements and the ingredients for the various spells. Even now the mask isn't actually assembled, as you have to attach the metal band that you made over the weekend to its interior.<br/>
<br/>
So when Gordon taps on your window, you tell him, "I still have to put it together."<br/>
<br/>
"Christ," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"So if you need me to finish it, I should take it off somewhere and—"<br/>
<br/>
"What class periods you got off?" Gordon asks. "Chelsea wants to know," he says when you only gawp at him. "What class periods do you got off or can skip? She's plotting something and needs you up in the loft then."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh ... second period?" you squeak. "No, hang on, seventh period is my—"<br/>
<br/>
"Too late," he snaps as he taps with one thumb at his cell phone. "You're skipping second. I don't know what's going on, but be up there. I'll take your crap in for you now."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's a bit of a mess when the bell ending first period rings. You run out of Mr. Walberg's room without waiting for Caleb, and thrust your way through the hallways. The surging crowd batters at you like a heavy surf, and when you do get outside you have to run a gauntlet of P.E. students coming out of the gym. It includes a couple of cheerleaders, and you try not to take it personally when Eva and Jessica, whom you pass on the way in, ignore you.<br/>
<br/>
The gym floor is empty, so you're able to make it up the stairs to the loft without being spotted. The door is unlocked, and you go in.<br/>
<br/>
The fuck room is even more disgusting by the light of day. It is dingy and dusty and crowded with crates and discarded equipment, and the gym mats lining the floor look like cheap, unmade beds. A stench of sweat—and of more intimate bodily fluids—pervades the air.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's going on?" someone asks behind you. You jump nearly a foot in the air, and come down to find Chelsea grimacing at you from the doorway. "Gordon said something about it not being done yet. I thought you told me last night—"<br/>
<br/>
"It is done," you protest. "Well, practically. I just have to put it together."<br/>
<br/>
"And how long will that take?" she asks as she joins you inside the loft proper. Her nose wrinkles.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno, a couple of minutes? Where'd Gordon put my—?" You spot your bag in a corner, leaning against a crate, and hurry over. "What's the deal, why do you need me to skip—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because we're doing that test now. Gordon'll be up here in a minute."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, I don't think we can try this stuff out on Gordon," you say as you unzip your bag.<br/>
<br/>
"Who says we are? But why not?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, he had that accident, so he's not exactly a, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"But we can try that stuff out in his mask, can't we? Then put it on someone and see what it does to them?" Chelsea's stare is very hard.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. I guess so. But why did you want me to make another mask?" Your hands fumble as you start setting stuff out on the crate. It's like laying out props for a magic act. Which, of course, is exactly what it is.<br/>
<br/>
"As insurance." She sounds very irritated. "We had that mask of Gordon, so we could bring him back after he had his accident. We'll make a mask of whoever it is Gordon brings back, as insurance in case the new spell messes <i>him</i> up."<br/>
<br/>
You almost drop the container of sealant. "Who Gordon brings back?" you echo. "What's he doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's catching us an asshole to try it out on," Chelsea says. "I gave him a couple of names. Hurry up," she says as the gears of your mind whirl uselessly.<br/>
<br/>
You've just got the metal band attached to the inside of the new mask when you hear a thumping and bumping and a lot of muted cursing from outside the loft door. You look up with wide eyes as the door flies open and Gordon, his arms encumbered with a very reluctant visitor, pushes inside.<br/>
<br/>
It takes you a moment to recognize his prisoner, for he's fighting like a large cat. He's small but wiry, wrapped in dark pants and boots and a large jacket, and either he's wearing a dark ski cap or he's got a thatch of dark hair. When he raises a snarling face, you see it's actually both.<br/>
<br/>
It's Gary Chen, Chinese-American gang-banger and drug dealer. "Fucker!" he yells in a strangled voice. "Cunt! Bitch!" he adds as his mica-like eyes snap onto Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
"Will, shouldn't you be doing your thing now?" Chelsea asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Whuh?"<br/>
<br/>
"The mask," she says. "Shouldn't you be ... whatever?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh." Yeah, the sooner you get things started, the sooner you won't have to worry about Chen—who is fighting Gordon like a demented panther—can get loose and cause any real damage. You sweep up the mask and jump for him. You push it toward Gary's face—<br/>
<br/>
He kicks it from your hand. As you scramble for it, he kicks you in the ribs, knocking you and all the air out of you sideways.<br/>
<br/>
"Will!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm trying!"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea!" Gordon yells over Chen's howls. "Whatever it is you and fuckface are trying to do—!" He grunts. "Get! It! Done!" he pants.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea snatches up the mask. "Get his feet! His <i>feet!</i>" she shrieks.<br/>
<br/>
For maybe two seconds you're frozen, until the sight of Chen sinking his teeth into Gordon's forearm propels you into action. You dive for Chen's ankles and catch the side of a boot in your mouth before you can get them pinned. A fist glances off the side of your skull.<br/>
<br/>
Then all the fight goes out of the prisoner. You look up.<br/>
<br/>
Chen, his eyes sightless pools of inky blackness, is sagging in Gordon's arms. With a sigh, the slab-like basketball player lets his burden slump to the floor, where he sprawls like a tossed-away doll. "God <i>damn</i> it!" Gordon hisses as he clutches the bruised and bleeding spot on his arm. "The fucker—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't kick him!" Chelsea yells. She sinks to her knees to stare hard at Chen's face. Of the mask there is no sign.<br/>
<br/>
Then she looks up at you. "If this works," she says, "who do you want to be, Will? Cindy or Yumi?"</span></div></div>


path: 113122112111
author_id: seuzz
title: A Heel Turns
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What?" you exclaim. "Why do I have to decide this now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because it's best to get it over with." Chelsea goes back to staring at Chen's slack and expressionless face.<br/>
<br/>
"I'd have to make another mask!"<br/>
<br/>
"So how long will that take?"<br/>
<br/>
You do have one mask on hand, all polished up, but no metal band for it. "A couple of hours?"<br/>
<br/>
"So you can get it done after school," Chelsea says, "and I can set it up so Yumi or Cindy is at my house and we can—"<br/>
<br/>
You almost shriek. "You mean you'd get your boyfriend to—?" You glance at Gordon, but he's concentrated on stanching the bleeding in his arm.<br/>
<br/>
"No, Will," Chelsea sighs. "I'd just invite them over to my house. Then we could—"<br/>
<br/>
But you've thought of another objection. "We'd need two masks," you say. "One for me and one for whoever. I mean, if it's going to be a <i>swap</i> there have to be two masks to make the swap."<br/>
<br/>
She makes a face. "So how long would that second one take?"<br/>
<br/>
But you don't answer, for now you've thought of something else. You've thought of Caleb, and the way he tackled Gordon a couple of weeks ago.<br/>
<br/>
Everyone thought it was you who did that. Which means he used a mask of you to do it. If he hasn't thrown it away— And why would he? Then—<br/>
<br/>
"Will?"<br/>
<br/>
"I might be able to get it all done tonight," you murmur, and you flush as you think of Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"Good. Then we'll—"<br/>
<br/>
"Might. Might!" You thrust a finger at her. "But I don't know if—"<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, don't point at my girlfriend," Gordon snarls.<br/>
<br/>
"Pookie," says Chelsea without looking over at him. "Go lie down over there and take your clothes off." She continues to stare at you. "Do you want me to set it up for tonight or tomorrow?" she asks you.<br/>
<br/>
You lick your lips. The decision only has to be made—<br/>
<br/>
Something crumples inside your chest. "Tonight. But if I call you in time, to say I can't make it, can you put it off till tomorrow?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe," she says. "If you can let me know before five o'clock.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, sure, I can let you know by then," you say. "But it would probably be eight or even nine o'clock before I'm ready.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh," says Chelsea. "So who do you want me to call?"<br/>
<br/>
The first name that comes into your head is—<br/>
<br/>
You thought Chelsea would look surprised at the name, but she only says, "Okay then," and looks back down at Chen. "Now tell me what's going on with him."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
What's going on with Gary Chen is that he's out cold, and yet there is no sign of the mask. You don't know what to do.<br/>
<br/>
To kill the time, Chelsea suggests you make up the stuff from the new spell. With her help you quickly mix up the ingredients—using a strand of her hair—and fire the mix over the sigil in the book. The result is a grayish, watery paste. Chelsea finds a brush so it can be applied to a mask.<br/>
<br/>
It'll be Gordon's mask you apply it to. You reacquaint yourself with the magic words that cause a mask to release itself, bend over the naked Gordon, and pry it off his glowering face. A Gordon-shaped statue appears where he had been lying.<br/>
<br/>
"Shit," you mutter as you turn back toward Chen. "If we put this thing on him, he'll turn into Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
"That's what we want," Chelsea says.<br/>
<br/>
"But he's wearing his clothes," you point out. "And if he turns into Gordon while he's still wearing them—"<br/>
<br/>
Just then a blue glow appears on Chen's face. It's the mask. "Shit," you mutter again, and thrust Gordon's mask at his girlfriend. "Here, you put that stuff inside the mask. I'll get Chen's clothes off him." Your skin crawls at the words.<br/>
<br/>
"Do you have to?" Chelsea squeaks.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. At least, we have to get them partway off him," you say, "'cos if we turn him into Gordon while he's dressed, his clothes are going to explode off him."<br/>
<br/>
And maybe Bruce Banner manages to stay inside his pants after hulking out, but you doubt it would work that way in real life.<br/>
<br/>
Chen's feet are enclosed in heavy, combat-style boots, and you get those off him first, then peel the heavy socks off. You gag on the smell that comes out of them. Then you unbutton his trousers and drag them down around his knees. His red boxers you leave alone.<br/>
<br/>
You're pushing aside the flaps of his jacket, and wondering how you can get him out of it and his shirt, when Chen groans softly. You freeze. "Chelsea!" you hiss.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm almost done!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, hurry up, because he's—"<br/>
<br/>
As you watch, Chen's brow wrinkles, and his lips curl. His eyes open. "The fuck?" he mutters, but he doesn't move any further.<br/>
<br/>
Thank God, before he can come alive and murder you—and before you can shit yourself—Chelsea scuttles over. Chen just has time to widen his eyes before she looms over him.<br/>
<br/>
Something goes <i>thump</i>. You scoot back, and so does Chelsea. Someone says "Oof," and you almost swallow your tongue.<br/>
<br/>
Gordon sits up where Chen had been lying. He has Chen's shirt and jacket on, and a black ski cap is stretched tight over the top of his head. He kicks at the trousers clinging to his calves. "The fuck are you doing?" he snarls.<br/>
<br/>
"Pookie, is that you?" Chelsea says. For the first time ever, she sounds scared.<br/>
<br/>
"Is that me?" Gordon peevishly repeats. "Who are you <i>asking</i> me to be? Why are you trying to—? Whose clothes are you trying to put me in?" His face turns very red, and he snatches the ski cap off his head. "The fuck is—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Pookie, stand up," Chelsea says firmly. Gordon glowers but complies. The jacket and shirt ride up high on him, and he pulls at them while grimacing. The pants fall around his ankles. "Take everything off."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck, yeah!" Gordon starts pulling clothes off a second time.<br/>
<br/>
You and Chelsea look at each other. "So, I guess it works!" she chirps.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, it turned him into Gordon," you reply, and glance over your shoulder at the stone giant prostrate beside some of the crates. "But we don't know what it did to Chen. Underneath, I mean." You give the living version of Gordon a nervous look, dodging a glance at his crotch. <br/>
<br/>
"So we'll take the mask off and see what happened under there." Chelsea sounds very serene—even cheerful. "Gordon, lay down."<br/>
<br/>
"Again?" he exclaims, but he complies. "What are you going to—?" He gives his petrified original a wary look. "I wish I understood what was going on," he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"It's your own fault you don't," Chelsea snaps. "Will? The, uh—" She points to Gordon's face.<br/>
<br/>
So you crouch next to him and grab his brow. The worried expression on his face is probably nothing on your own. If Chen is still alive under there, and he's awake, he'll be able to fly at your throat before you can react.<br/>
<br/>
You grip the edges of Gordon's face and pull.<br/>
<br/>
You're in luck, doubly so. Not only is Gary Chen still flesh and blood—and breathing—when the mask comes off, he is unconscious. "What do we do now?" you ask Chelsea in a whisper.<br/>
<br/>
She's already back at the crate where all your supplies are. "We do the same thing to him that we did to Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
You gasp. "You mean turn him into a statue?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, silly. We put this same stuff inside that mask we put on him. That way he's, you know, just like Gordon was. Has to do what I say," she sniffs.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you sure?"<br/>
<br/>
She looks at you. "What do you want to do, Will? Let him go? Just wake him up and—?"<br/>
<br/>
You see her point, but you see something else she forgot. "Then let's get Gordon's mask back on him," you say as you scuttle over to the statue. "That way we've got someone who's <i>almost</i> as mean as Chen on our side. You know, if it turns out we <i>don't</i> control him."<br/>
<br/>
"It will," Chelsea says. "You're so smart, Will," she adds. "I'm sure this spell you made up will work just fine!"<br/>
<br/>
You didn't "make up" the spell, but you're so flattered by the compliment that you hold your tongue anyway.<br/>
<br/>
But you can't quite escape the feeling that <i>both</i> you and Chelsea have overlooked something.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So what am I supposed to do now?" Chen asks after he's dressed. <br/>
<br/>
Well, more like "seethes." It looks like he's trying to shoot lightning out of his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
But Chelsea was right. Once she got that stuff inside his mask, and got the mask on him, he had to obey her just like Gordon did. Both Gordon and Gary are dressed again, and standing before the diminutive cheerleader like a couple of sullen schoolboys. Chen, though, is flexing his hands, like he's got the urge to snap someone's neck.<br/>
<br/>
"Just do what you normally do," Chelsea says carelessly. "Go to class. Hang out with your friends. Make it a normal day. Except—" She puts her finger in his face. "You don't tell anyone anything about coming up here, or what happened up here. You just tell them that you skipped second period."<br/>
<br/>
Chen glowers at her. Then, when she dismisses them, two of the biggest terrors at Westside High School shuffle out the door.<br/>
<br/>
You fall back onto a crate and let your breath out. It might be hours before your nerves stop quivering.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, don't look so sick, Will," Chelsea says. "Just think about who's going to be waiting for you at my house around nine."<br/>
<br/>
Yes. It's going to be—</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121112
author_id: seuzz
title: A Banquet of Babel
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What happened to you?" Keith asks at the start of lunch. You're at your locker when he comes sidling up, and his question gives you a start. <i>Is there something the matter with your face? Did the fight with Chen leave you with bruises?</i><br/>
<br/>
But it turns out he just wants to know where you were second period. "Yeah, you missed a good one," he drawls. "Mr. Hawks got <i>really</i> sarcastic with me." You just grunt.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb falls in with the two of you as you squeeze your way through the crowded hallways. "I wanna eat with Carson and them," he says. That would be Carson Ioeger, James Lamont and Paul Davis, who like to eat out on the front quad. Jenny Ashton is usually with them, and sometimes—<br/>
<br/>
Your heart goes <i>whump</i> in your chest. Sometimes Yumi eats with them too. Sometimes Eva and Jessica do as well, since they're all friendly with Jenny. (And friendly with Carson and James, to an extent. (At least to a greater extent than they are friendly with you. (Which wouldn't be hard.)))<br/>
<br/>
So whereas Keith says, "Somethin' wrong with <i>our</i> company, Johansson?" you say, "That sounds good to me."<br/>
<br/>
"Great," Caleb replies without any obvious enthusiasm. "And there's nothing wrong with you, Tilley, that a personality transplant wouldn't fix."<br/>
<br/>
As usual, the crew you're looking for is already lounging between A wing and the library. Carson and James sprawl lazily on their sides, while Paul hunches with his legs under and directly watches the girls.<br/>
<br/>
It's multiple girls today. Yumi is there, and another girl who has her back to you, and a third girl with long, shimmering blonde hair. You can't identify that last one until she turns her profile toward you.<br/>
<br/>
"Holy shit," Caleb snickers. "It's Cindy!"<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw slackens. It sure is. Cindy Vredenburg, a hot-as-burning-ice cheerleader, and one of the most desirable girls in school. She's one of those girls who <i>occasionally</i> eats with Jenny, but it's a rare thing nevertheless. <br/>
<br/>
Keith stops dead. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna go eat somewhere else," Keith says. He gets a stricken look on his face and starts backpedaling.<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy won't beat you up," Caleb says.<br/>
<br/>
"But what if her if boyfriend shows up?" Keith retorts. And as if he's afraid even that indirect reference might summon his special nemesis—Seth Javits, Cindy's beau, and a basketball player who has made the torture of Keith his special project for a couple of years now—he wheels around with a look of alert panic on his face, then sprints back the way you had come.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb rolls his eyes and on an equally rolling gait lopes on toward the company.<br/>
<br/>
"Hola!" Carson calls as you approach. "Como esta bien? Y tu madre? Cui bono y adios, muchachos!"<br/>
<br/>
"Someone fuck up your language module, Ioeger?" Caleb asks as he drops onto the grass.<br/>
<br/>
"Carson lost a bet," Paul says. His tone is disapproving. "He's not allowed to speak English today."<br/>
<br/>
"Then he must'a lost the bet a long time ago," Caleb says as he pulls his lunch from a brown paper sack.<br/>
<br/>
"Yo pero est un cabrio maquis. Comprende?"<br/>
<br/>
"What language is that?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Fake Spanish," says James as he takes a bite from an apple. "Thank God. Him and Christian Knouse were babbling High Elvish at each other before school."<br/>
<br/>
You turn your attention to the girls, who are staring very intently at a patch of ground between them without talking. Except for the third girl, the one who looks familiar but whose name you don't know. She gives you a vacant smile before turning back to the others. "Maybe it doesn't mean anything," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, it means something," Yumi replies. Her tone is very dark. "It always means something when Chelsea's being nice."<br/>
<br/>
"She's always been nice to me."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not on the cheerleading squad. No one on the squad is ever good enough for Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy stretches out onto her side and sighs. "And she's had it in for me ever since, well, ever."<br/>
<br/>
Normally you'd concentrate your attention on Cindy, who is slim and bosomy and has sheets of platinum hair cascading down the sides of a her face. But instead, under lowered brows, you turn your attention to Yumi.<br/>
<br/>
She is small and springy and Japanese, with a pixie-ish pie-pan face under a short, dark bob. Despite her stature she is powerfully built with strong thighs and calves, but there's nothing troll-like about her hourglass figure. Her eyes flash as they rake past your face when she turns to answer a question from Paul. "Maybe someone finally straightened her out?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know what you're talking about," she snaps. "No one can straighten out Chelsea. She thinks she's perfect and that her job is to remind us of it by highlighting our shortcomings."<br/>
<br/>
"But maybe someone told her—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oy! Paolo! Du mouthenstein ist attracten zie bluenflein gesesalstach. Schottenzie aer stupido provenmach douten feharenver!"<br/>
<br/>
"What he said," Jenny interjects. <br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea was being nice to you?" you ask Yumi. "When?"<br/>
<br/>
"This morning during practice." Yumi wrinkles her nose. "All cooing and going on about how good me and Cindy were, how we were such a credit to the squad." She turns to Cindy. "No offense, but I thought you were a little off, and I kept feeling like <i>my</i> feet were about to go out from under me."<br/>
<br/>
"I was off," Cindy sighs. Her eyes are locked onto the grass. "Me and Seth ..." She trails off.<br/>
<br/>
That signals a change in the conversational topic. You lapse into a thoughtful silence of your own while eating your lunch.<br/>
<br/>
It's a well-known fact around school that Chelsea Cooper is more than a little bit of a bitch. You've seen enough of her behavior over the years to be of the same opinion, but you've also seen enough of her behavior up close recently to have developed a more, well, <i>nuanced</i> opinion. She is brusque and impatient and demanding. But when she's not being that way she's also got ...<br/>
<br/>
<i>Breasts. Huge breasts. And big eyes. And great legs.</i><br/>
<br/>
You twitch. <i>No!</i> What you were trying to remind yourself that she's also got—<br/>
<br/>
Well, it would be wrong to call it a "caring" side. But she was very interested in you and your problem with Lisa yesterday, and she spent a long time talking to you about it and getting you to better understand your own feelings.<br/>
<br/>
And she even wants to use the magic to help you out, instead of hogging it to herself.<br/>
<br/>
As for her being "nice" today toward Yumi and Cindy—which, from what you've heard in the past from Yumi and Jessica and Eva, is a real rarity—it could be that her newfound habit of being nice to you has rubbed off on her attitude toward them.<br/>
<br/>
But it doesn't take you long to settle on another, more cynical hypothesis. She is setting it up for you to "body swap" with one of these girls, so it would make sense if she "spread a little sugar" as a prelude to inviting them out to her house.<br/>
<br/>
When Yumi and Cindy get up to go, you scramble up to follow them. "Hey, can I ask you a question?" you ask Yumi.<br/>
<br/>
"Knock yourself out."<br/>
<br/>
"It's about Lisa." Your throat tightens as Yumi shoots you a hooded glance from way down where her face is. "You still hang out with her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, I guess." Her pace quickens, and you have to quicken yours.<br/>
<br/>
"Like, how often?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, Will. I don't keep track in my workout journal."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you were hanging out with her yesterday, and—"<br/>
<br/>
"I was?"<br/>
<br/>
"After school? In the library?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"Yumi, slow up," Cindy complains. "What's the rush?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I know you used to hang out with her quite a lot over the summer. You and her and Jessica and Eva." You give Cindy a sidelong glance. "You too," you add, but Cindy ignores you. "I was just wondering if that was still a regular thing."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess so," says Yumi. "Is this going any place?"<br/>
<br/>
"Um, well, I was thinking, maybe, we could get together to talk sometime? When Lisa's not around and you're not busy with—"<br/>
<br/>
"Lisa's not around now. What do you want to talk about?" She picks up the pace again.<br/>
<br/>
It's pretty clear she's trying to lose you, so you just mumble, "I'll try to catch you later," and drop back behind. Neither she nor Cindy slow down or look back for you. You hear them talking in low tones, and your ears turn red. They're likely talking about you.<br/>
<br/>
Well, fuck it and fuck them. You found out what you wanted, that it wasn't a rare thing for Yumi to be with Lisa. That and the cold attitude Yumi has just shown to you firm up your intention to go through with that body swap. You shoot Chelsea a text confirming that you want the swap to go through that night.<br/>
<br/>
But that will mean getting two more masks done. You can cut that down to one mask, though, if you can get the mask of you that Caleb surely has at his house.<br/>
<br/>
So when you pass Caleb in the door to the library between sixth and seventh periods, as he's exiting his study hall and you're entering your, you pause to regard him speculatively when he asks, "What'd you run off with Yumi and Cindy for after lunch?"<br/>
<br/>
You can sneak over to his house after school. No one will be there, and you know where the spare house key is.<br/>
<br/>
Or you could take him into your (and Chelsea's) confidence, and arrange for him to have a body swap as well. He was clearly interested in it back when he had the book, before he lost it to Gordon. He couldn't get with Chelsea through Gordon, but you could surely arrange for him to get close to Cindy through Seth.</span></div></div>


path: 11312211211121
author_id: seuzz
title: Masked Masks
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I wanted to talk to her about Lisa," you tell Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
And, as you expected, he loses all interest. "Yeah, what did she say?" he asks, then he quickly adds, "Never mind, I gotta get to class." He scoots past you and into the hallway.<br/>
<br/>
<i>And that,</i> you sourly think at his retreating back, <i>is how come I'm not going to say anything to you about what me and Chelsea are doing.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
When school lets out you shadow Caleb long enough to confirm that he's heading straight over to Salopek instead of stopping by his house first. Then you swing around and race over to his place.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb and his mom live in a small, dumpy house in one of the more run-down neighborhoods. But it's not the worst part of town, so you are a little nervous about being mistaken for a burglar as you park and trudge the side of their house to the back yard. There's a skimpy wire fence around it, more ornamental than a real barrier, and it bends almost double as you grab it and loft yourself over. There's a birdhouse in the back yard, hanging off the eaves, and when you pry open a small, loose board on its back your finger touches a tarnished house key. With it, you let yourself in through the back door.<br/>
<br/>
"Hello?" you call. "Mrs. Johansson?" No one answers, as you were sure they wouldn't, for she, like her son, will be at work. Satisfied that you're alone, you hop down the short hallway to Caleb's bedroom. It is even messier than yours, and you rub your hands with a grimace as you mutter, "Now, if I were my asshole best friend, where would I hide a magical mask of me?"<br/>
<br/>
Under the bed? No, nothing there but dust bunnies. Under the mattress? No. Under the pile of books and papers on the desk? No. In the dresser, under the dresser, on a top shelf in the closet, under the pile of dirty clothes in the corner? No, no, no, and (fuck! the smell!) no.<br/>
<br/>
Hiding places, where are some of the hiding places he's told you about? There's a loose corner of carpet in the corner behind the bed, but when you peel it back there's nothing but a dirty envelope with a couple of dollars in it. The underside of the desk? That's where he once hid some pornographic paperbacks he picked up in middle school, but there's nothing there now but the old strips of duct tape he'd used to secure them. Ah! Behind the books in his bookshelf! You shift and feel behind the science-fiction and fantasy paperbacks that occupy four rows of a tiny bookcase, but find nothing.<br/>
<br/>
Somewhere else in the house? You make a quick search of the bathroom without success, and glance in the small parlor that someone once upon a time had converted from a one-car garage. The sight of porcelain bric-a-brac on some shelves—his mom likes to collect porcelain pigs—gives you start. Maybe Caleb has taken a leaf from that Edgar Alan Poe story he told you about that one time (what was it? "The Raven"? "The Tell-Tale Heart"? "The Giant Cock and the Girl Who Liked to Lick It"?) where the missing thing was hidden in plain sight. You glance around the walls, in case Caleb has mounted it like a mirror, but there's nothing but some family photographs.<br/>
<br/>
Your spirits have sunk low when you remember to look in the games closet. There's an old Monopoly game there, and an even older game of Clue, and a few others, but Caleb hasn't secreted the mask inside any of them.<br/>
<br/>
Back in his bedroom you slump in his chair and eye the clock. You've got plenty of time before someone comes home, but you need to get back to the elementary school to work on the mask for Yumi. You drum your fingers on the armrest and eye the movie poster he has tacked to the wall. It's a vintage poster of <i>The Goonies</i>, and as your eye travels down it you notice that a tear in the lower left-hand corner has been repaired with a bit of tape.<br/>
<br/>
That's odd. That tear is as old as the poster, and Caleb has only ever grunted about it being "not worth it" when you or Keith suggested fixing it. So why did he fix it now?<br/>
<br/>
You stare hard at the poster. It's just a sheet affixed to the wall, there's no way to hide something behind it. You get up and pat the poster down. Yes, it's flat against the wall.<br/>
<br/>
Wait. Hang on. There's a depression in back of it. Like a hole. Excitedly, you pry at the nearest thumbtack and pull the corner loose.<br/>
<br/>
A hole! There's a hole in the interior wall, a big hole too, punched clean through the drywall. The insulation has been shoved aside, and when you put your hand in and feel around ... Down low, so you have to put your arm in up to your elbow ... There's something that feels like a plate. You grasp it with your fingertips and pull it up—<br/>
<br/>
Yes! You have it! A mask just like the one that Black and Chen are now wearing! You get a chill when you turn it around and see your name—WILLIAM MARTIN PRESCOTT—floating over the metal band on its inner surface. <i>Caleb, you fucker!</i><br/>
<br/>
Before you pin the poster back down you explore the hole a little more, and shove down the insulation where the mask had been resting, until you can shove your arm in up to your shoulder without touching anything with your fingertips. There! Now if Caleb goes looking for it, he'll just think that the mask slid all the way down the wall to the very foundation. No way will his mom will let him drill or knock a hole in the wall down at the baseboard if he wants to try getting it out!<br/>
<br/>
You quickly put back everything that you disturbed, and bound out of the back door, depositing the key in its hiding place and hopping over the fence again. The street is empty as you drive off.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Thank God you finally got here," Chelsea mutters as she lets you into the foyer.<br/>
<br/>
"I told you it'd be nine-thirty before I got here," you retort. You grin nervously at Mrs. Cooper, who beams at you from the doorway into the family's living room. "I had to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Never mind," Chelsea says. She looks back at her mother. "Thanks, Mom! This is Will. From yesterday."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course." She beams as she comes in. "How are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fine, Mrs. Cooper. Thanks." Chelsea's mother looks like a somewhat aged version of her daughter. Short, very fit, with blonde hair and a slightly insane cast about the eyes. "I—"<br/>
<br/>
"Will's got the homework assignment we need," Chelsea says as she seizes your wrist and drags you down the hallway toward the stairs. "And Yumi needs to get home."<br/>
<br/>
"What are your scholarly aptitudes, Will?" Mrs. Cooper asks as she follows.<br/>
<br/>
"Er—"<br/>
<br/>
"Math and French," Chelsea hollers back, and you nearly trip as she hauls you up the stairs. "He's going to help us check our translations!"<br/>
<br/>
"Merci beaucoup d'avoir aide Chelsea!" Mrs. Cooper calls at you from the foot of the stairs. Then Chelsea pulls you around a corner.<br/>
<br/>
"God," she hisses. "I just spent the last hour pretending to be all interested in Yumi." You bang into her as she stops short. "You have all the stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes."<br/>
<br/>
"It's ready to go? You don't have to do anything else?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, after we copy her into a mask we have to seal it up—"<br/>
<br/>
"But that's all?"<br/>
<br/>
Before you can answer, a door opens, and a plainly astonished Yumi looks out at you from inside a bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
"Look who showed up, Yumi," Chelsea squeals. "You know Will, don't you? Will Prescott?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh ... yeah." Yumi's reply causes you to flush a little. It's really obvious that she's trying to figure out how in the hell you manage to rate being in Chelsea's house, with Chelsea holding you by the hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Will's helping me with a project." Chelsea pushes Yumi aside and pulls you into the bedroom. "You'll love it. Show her, Will."<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, I have to get going," Yumi says. The lines around her eyes are either from fatigue or anger. "So I'm gonna—"<br/>
<br/>
"She's been saying that for the last twenty minutes," Chelsea giggles. "Just two more, Yumi, so you can tell Will how much you love his, uh, thing."<br/>
<br/>
You turn your back on Yumi's raised eyebrows and unzip your bag. You pull out first the mask you stole from the Caleb, then the fresh mask. It's all set to go, and when you turn around with it Chelsea grabs Yumi from the side.<br/>
<br/>
"Now, Will!" she shouts. "Now!"<br/>
<br/>
You don't know why you blanch at Chelsea's shout, but you do. But that momentary hiccup isn't enough to save Yumi. You jump at her and paste her in the face with the mask. Your palm mashes into her cheek, and then she and Chelsea both tumble to the floor.<br/>
<br/>
"God!" Chelsea moans as she wriggles from underneath her unconscious squadmate. "She doesn't look like she weighs five hundred pounds but I swear she does!" She pushes her hair from her face. "Must be all the rice she packs away in her thighs for the winter." <br/>
<br/>
You don't dare point out that Yumi's build is remarkably similar to Chelsea's own. Instead, you just say, "What do we do now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Same thing we did this morning with Gary. Ugh. Let's get her in the bathroom, though, in case my mom—" You bend over to drag Yumi by her ankles as Chelsea useless picks up her hands. Somehow you get her into Chelsea's private bath.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," Chelsea says after dropping your book bag onto the tile by Yumi's head, "if I can trust you alone with her—" She snickers. "I'll leave you to finish up."<br/>
<br/>
She closes the door, leaving you alone with the girl you're set to impersonate.</span></div></div>


path: 113122112111211
author_id: seuzz
title: A Shedding and an Unshedding
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You sit on the edge of the tub and look down at Yumi Saito. Long minutes pass during which your heart beats very hard, and your breath comes in quick gasps. <i>What am I about to do?</i> you think.<br/>
<br/>
You know the answer to that question, of course. You're about to engineer a kind of "body swap" with her. In half an hour or so, you'll be looking down at yourself, and you'll be wearing her clothes, and you'll have her legs and feet and arms and hands and hips and face and ... and boobs and ... and ... <br/>
<br/>
Your mouth is very dry and your palms are very sweaty and your cock keeps ticking up and down as though it can't make up its mind whether to be excited or horrified.<br/>
<br/>
Yumi is wearing white, hip-hugging shorts and ankle socks, so when you reflect that those will be <i>your</i> legs in a bit, you can see exactly what they will look like. Chelsea's crack about them being "rice packed" notwithstanding, they aren't chunky, but they are well-shaped and obviously strong, and you know that Yumi did a lot of gymnastics before she got onto the cheerleader squad. Her calves are curved and very strong as well.<br/>
<br/>
From the waist up there is less to see, for she's wearing a fuzzy, zebra-striped pullover sweater. Her nose and mouth and chin are small, and her eyes are very large. Not anime large, but she's got the kind of face that you think could inspire the "cute anime girl" look that you see on TV.<br/>
<br/>
After a minute of rubbing your palms together, you remember that you should probably get her undressed. You'll need to put your mask on her before she wakes up, and if she's still in those clothes, the change will probably rip them.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Wait.</i> What if you wake her up while pulling her clothes off her, like what happened with Chen?<br/>
<br/>
Well, that's just a risk you'll have to take. With trembling limbs you kneel next to her. You start with her feet.<br/>
<br/>
Carefully you pull off the bright white tennis shoes she's wearing, and peel off the ankle socks. There's no movement on Yumi's face.<br/>
<br/>
You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. <i>The shorts ...</i><br/>
<br/>
No, you move up to the sweater, first. With exploratory fingers you find a narrow zipper running up the side, and after sliding this down you're able to peel the sweater back to expose her torso. You can't get it all the way off her without rough handling, but at least this way it won't get torn.<br/>
<br/>
Yumi's stomach, now exposed, shows an inward curve but no obvious musculature, but you don't press it with your fingertips to test for firmness. Instead, you look at her breasts, which are large enough to fill an ample bra. Briefly you give consideration to taking the bra off, then reflect sweatily that there's no risk of Hulk-like tearing there, only of severe deflation.<br/>
<br/>
<i>And the shorts ...?</i> You wipe your face with the hem of your t-shirt.<br/>
<br/>
You unbutton and unzip them, then tug them down past her knees, then all the way off. Your eyes steam behind the corneas at the sight of the trim lavender panties she's wearing beneath them. Their edges bite into her flesh ...<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh boy.</i> You almost give up at that point, but then think of what will happen down there when the change comes: your cock will come popping out from inside her panties. Your wince is like a full-body spasm.<br/>
<br/>
You compromise in a pervy kind of way by draping a towel over her midriff, then reaching under to hook your fingers into her panties and pull them down. They hang onto your fingers after you've got them off from around her feet, and you have to shake them off.<br/>
<br/>
You wash your face off in the sink and avoid looking yourself in the eye after drying it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It takes an agonizingly long time for the mask to come out from inside her, and you lift it off like it's a plate hot from the oven and lay it aside. Yumi remains asleep. You pick up the other mask, which is balanced atop your book bag, and drop it onto her face. It sinks instantly into her, and something kicks you in the shin. You look down. It was one of your feet.<br/>
<br/>
One of your bare feet. One of your four bare feet.<br/>
<br/>
The owner of that particular foot sits up with wide, staring eyes. "The fuck?" he gasps, and passes a hand over his forehead.<br/>
<br/>
You feel yourself turning green from the chest up.<br/>
<br/>
God, it looks just like you. Only wrong somehow. Everything is off, crooked. Malignant. It's the face that an evil twin would show. But he also looks very scared. "What?" he says, and he licks his lips nervously.<br/>
<br/>
"What's your name?" you ask, and lick your own lips in turn.<br/>
<br/>
"Will Prescott," he says doubtfully. <br/>
<br/>
"You know Yumi Saito?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." Now he looks very alarmed.<br/>
<br/>
"When was the last time you saw her?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno." He is turning very white. "A couple of days ago at school?"<br/>
<br/>
"Where are you now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Beats the fuck out of me," he squeals.<br/>
<br/>
You relax and let out a deep breath. <br/>
<br/>
It's going the way you'd hoped, except for the fact that his face is wrong. One reason you were late getting to Chelsea was that you'd prepped some more of that goop that makes slaves. The last batch you'd made—which, as far as you know, is still up in the fuck room—used Chelsea's hair. This new batch used yours. You'd put some of it inside that mask you got from Caleb's before coming out to Chelsea, and you've got the rest of it in a plastic tub inside your book bag. That means that this thing here should be your slave. But for now it's enough that he not know that he's really Yumi-in-a-Will-Prescott-disguise.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. What's the last thing you remember?" you ask him<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know!" He looks around, and pulls at the bra that droops off his chest. "Being at school, I guess. Wait!" he gasps. "Gordon! I was ... I don't know what I was doing, but Gordon caught me and hauled me off and he took some stuff from me."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, great.</i> Your doppelganger is a couple of weeks out of date. Hurriedly you think of what do about it.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, you can do no better than this: "Okay, get into these things," you tell him as you pull off your shirt. "You're in Chelsea Cooper's bathroom—" His eyes pop. "She's outside. Tell her I told you to go home, but meet me at the Starbucks on Orlando. Wait!" You grimace: it's going to be tough explaining things to him. "Go out to the Starbucks and wait. I'll be along. Or someone will be. Just keep to a table by yourself, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is someone going to explain to me what's going on?" he whines as he pulls off the rest of Yumi's clothes. "Like, who the fuck <i>you</i> are?"<br/>
<br/>
That's going to be the hardest one to answer, particularly when you're looking like Yumi Saito.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea peers through the crack when you open the bathroom door wide enough for your replacement to sidle through. She smiles expectantly, but you make a face and mutter that it'll be a little while before you're ready. Then you shut it on her.<br/>
<br/>
With a deep, gulping breath you squat onto your haunches in front of your book bag. You take out the sealant and apply it to the inside of Yumi's mask. Then you clean up and pack everything away, and even fold up Yumi's clothes and tuck them into a neat pile with her shoes on top.<br/>
<br/>
At last, you run out of ways to temporize. There's no going back, so why are you putting off going forward? Everything has worked out so far ...<br/>
<br/>
You sit on the bathmat, then lay out flat on your back. You grope for Yumi's mask and hold it over your face. It is a deep, glowing blue, and exotic letters—Japanese script, it looks like—floats above the inner surface. You close your eyes, take in a deep breath, and lower it onto your face.<br/>
<br/>
You feel it sinking into you, and it drags you down with it, the last thing you feel, it's like you're being turned inside out ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You feel your own mind first, and then your skin, and then the weight of yourself. You are very cold.<br/>
<br/>
You sit up so fast you give yourself a head rush, and look around. You're in a bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's bathroom. You remember that much, even though your head throbs.<br/>
<br/>
You also remember talking to a guy who looked like Will Prescott, and you remember undressing a girl who looked like Yumi Saito. You remember putting a mask together before driving out to Chelsea's, and you remember getting coffee with Cindy and Eva and Jessica before driving out to Chelsea's. You remember eating lunch in front of the school, and you remember chasing Yumi and being chased by Will afterward. You remember helping Chelsea and Gordon in the fuck room second period, and you remember the funny, creepy way Chelsea was being nice to you during cheerleader practice.<br/>
<br/>
You remember being Will Prescott, and you remember being Yumi Saito.<br/>
<br/>
You scramble to your feet and stare at yourself in the mirror. A very sober girl stares back at you. There's something wrong with her face—like she's your evil twin—but there's something very right about it, too.<br/>
<br/>
You know who you are, though. You are Will Prescott. But you're also Yumi Saito. You clasp your arms around yourself, and shiver.<br/>
<br/>
<i>It worked. It fucking worked.</i><br/>
<br/>
When you go home tonight, it will be to Yumi Saito's house, and Yumi Saito's bed, and when you get up tomorrow you will put on Yumi Saito's clothes and attend Yumi Saito's classes and talk and gossip with Yumi Saito's friends.<br/>
<br/>
Your expression tightens, but there's a gleam in your eye.<br/>
<br/>
And you're <i>goddamned sure</i> no one will be able to tell the difference. Not if you don't want them to.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121112111
author_id: seuzz
title: Yumi Explains Things to Lots of People
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The part of you that is used to being Yumi Saito feels nothing as you pull the panties on and snap the white, butt-hugging shorts about your waist. The part of you that is more used to being Will Prescott has to choke down a shrill squeal of delight. A long, trickling tremble, like a stream of cold water, runs down your back.<br/>
<br/>
You get the bra and sweater on, then sweep everything else up before yanking open the bathroom door. Chelsea, who is seated on her bed with her cellphone, jumps up. A manic grin spreads across her face, and her eyebrows arch. She looks much taller, now that you're much shorter.<br/>
<br/>
The words pop out of your mouth before they're fully formed: "You look like a psychotic munchkin."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's face falls. "Will?" she squeaks.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, it's me." You grimace as you drop your book bag. "Sorry. It just came out. It's just what Yumi would say. Except," you continue in a grumbling undertone, "she wouldn't <i>say</i> it, probably, and I'm not used to—"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea squeals. "You mean you <i>know</i> what she'd say? What she thinks?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." You eye your colleague warily. "That's what the masks are supposed to do, right?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea jumps forward and grabs you. Her hand is like a vise. "So you've got—? I mean, everything that she knows? You know it too?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like I said. I can even—"<br/>
<br/>
The words seem to hang behind in the air even as Chelsea yanks you onto the bed. "This is awesome, it's just what I wanted! I want you to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea!"<br/>
<br/>
Her face freezes.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I can't stay," you tell her. "I need to get home—" <br/>
<br/>
You do, too. You've got homework now, and a mother and father that watch to make sure that you get the homework done. Yumi wasn't finished when she told them she had to go out to meet a friend. <br/>
<br/>
And besides, you're suddenly a little shy around Chelsea. You're seeing her with Yumi's eyes, and though you're not sure what you see, it makes you nervous. "But first I've got to meet with, uh, that guy who left here a few minutes ago." You start pulling on your socks. "I got some things I need to explain to him."<br/>
<br/>
"Like what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like who I am and what's going on. He's way out of date."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"I mean he's out of date!" You pull on your shoes, which are very small, but so are your feet now. "Like, he still thinks it's September! He doesn't know what day it is or what's going on at my house or—"<br/>
<br/>
"How come?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because—! Look, it's hard to explain. But he's waiting for me at Starbucks now. If you want to talk we can ... Well ..."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi has as little to do with Chelsea as possible. You remember getting her text this afternoon, and then the phone call when Yumi temporized, and the get-together with Cindy and Jessica and Eva to talk about what Chelsea might possibly want to talk about. Those girls are probably waiting breathlessly for Yumi's debriefing on the meeting.<br/>
<br/>
You do a double-take at the hungry expression on Chelsea's face. "I don't know when we can talk," you say as you stand up.<br/>
<br/>
She grabs you again. "But we have to, Will! That's the whole reason I—" Then she claps her mouth shut.<br/>
<br/>
A chill goes down your back. "The whole reason you what?"<br/>
<br/>
She turns coy. "Look, I said you should do this because it would help you with Lisa. But I figure it could help me, too, you know!" Her voice rises to a near shriek. "You've got all day, you know, you've got all of Yumi's life to spend it with your ex-! Can't you give me, like, just an hour or two?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, I told you we can talk." You're suddenly desperate to get away. "But I can't right now, because— And you know it would be weird. All of her friends think it's weird. They all think it's weird that you invited me, er, Yumi out to your house."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's eyes freeze. "Really?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. We're not <i>friends,</i> Chelsea." The sentence sounds like a hammer blow. "You and Yumi, I mean, you're not."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's eyes brim with tears. "We're not?" she squeals. "That's a horrible—! Oh, wait." She pinches the bridge of her nose. "You're right, I forget who I'm talking to." She takes a deep breath, and all the distress is gone from her face when she looks back up at you. "But we really need to get together, Will. Tomorrow, if possible."<br/>
<br/>
"Why, where's the fire?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to waste time. You have a free period, a study hall or period you can skip?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. First period."<br/>
<br/>
She frowns. "That's cheerleader practice! Oh. Ha ha." She makes a face. "But I'm serious—"<br/>
<br/>
"Second period, maybe," you say. "Or fifth? That's my lunch."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea thinks. "Second period. Up in the loft. Oh!" She squeals again, and hops up and down on the bed. "This is going to be so great! We'll—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Bye, Chelsea." You turn to flee, and push and push at the bedroom door before remembering that you need to pull to open it. Chelsea follows you out. "Bye! It was so awesome a time we had! Can't wait to have you back!" You pull yourself firmly from her clutches as you stumble out the front door and run for your car.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The gangly high school senior who is currently answering to the name "Will Prescott" is slouched in a corner of the Starbucks when you arrive, but he perks up when you come in. You ignore him, though, and order a cafe misto at the front. While waiting for it, you try to think up how to talk to him. Nothing comes. You settle on a "Hey there" and a smile when you finally approach him. "Haven't seen you since—"<br/>
<br/>
"I think I know you," he blurts out. His stare is very hard, and very puzzled.<br/>
<br/>
You stop dead. "Uh, sure you know me, Will. My name is Yumi."<br/>
<br/>
"No, I mean I think I know you from—" The tendons in his neck pop out as he grimaces. "Did I see you in the bathroom at Chelsea Cooper's place about an hour ago?" he asks through gritted teeth. "'Cos it sure feels like—"<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw drops, and you narrowly miss dropping your cafe misto with it. "How did you know?" You put your fingertips to your face, half expecting to find it melting off your skull to reveal your real face beneath.<br/>
<br/>
"Just a funny feeling I got," he mutters. He crosses his arms tightly. "I am so <i>fucking</i> confused."<br/>
<br/>
You sit down and take the cell phone from your purse. <i>That's right, you have a purse now, and a cell phone with stickers on the back of its protective case.</i> You examine yourself in the screen. It's Yumi's face alright, with no hint or sign of anyone else beneath it.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, that's something confuses the fuck out of me too," you tell him as you put it away. "How you recognized me. But you know it's <i>me</i>? From the bathroom earlier?" He nods. "Well, here's the thing. I'm really Will Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"Awesome," he says tonelessly. "I guess that makes me Yumi Saito."<br/>
<br/>
<i>He's so unattractive when he gets sarcastic,</i> you think. <i>His face gets all scowly and petulant and his voice whines. A shave and a haircut and some better clothes would help with the sophomoric looks, but until he fixes his attitude—</i><br/>
<br/>
You almost jump out of your chair. Is that what Yumi thinks of you? <i>Think about something else think about something else!</i><br/>
<br/>
"Okay, let me explain what's going on," you tell him in a shaky voice. "Do you remember finding that crazy book at Arnholm's, and how you sold it to Caleb, and then one night he came over and asked you to put this metal band on your head ...?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You give him his biography, which is mostly your biography, explaining what he is and how Caleb made him, and how you, the real Will Prescott, got dragooned into helping Chelsea and how that led to ...<br/>
<br/>
He is looking rather aghast when you're done, but he's got a much brighter light in his eye. After going over some of the details again, he asks a question you're delighted to hear and delighted to answer: "But we're on the same team, aren't we, uh, boss?" ("Boss" because you'd explained that he has to do what you say.)<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. Absolutely!"<br/>
<br/>
"And when you find out about Lisa, and what she thinks—"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll tell you everything I find out," you blurt out. Internally, you wince as you're battered by Yumi's own knowledge of the situation.<br/>
<br/>
Will (how weird, you're going to have to get used to thinking of him as "Will") brightens at that. "What do I have to do about Chelsea?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing, I think. Lucky you. You're, uh, just supposed to keep my place warm while I— And that reminds me," you mutter, and scramble for your purse. "I have to get home real soon."<br/>
<br/>
"Yumi has a curfew?" Will jeers.<br/>
<br/>
"So do you," you retort. He shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
After cleaning up your table, you accompany him out. As he gets in the truck—your truck, but for now it's his—you give his face another look. It still looks twisted and evil, but somehow "right" at the same time.<br/>
<br/>
Only then does it occur to you that you're seeing your real face when you look at him. You're used to seeing your face in a mirror, so no wonder it looks strange when seen straight on.<br/>
<br/>
You get in your car, but before driving home you send texts to Cindy and the Garners, for their texts to Yumi have been piling up: <i>Sorry phone got turned off nothing to say just chelsea beingweird tell u more tmorow.</i><br/>
<br/>
Then you turn the motor over and drive home. <br/>
<br/>
And while you drive, you find yourself wondering: <i>How long is this impersonation for?</i> Because you don't have to talk to any of Lisa's friends now to discover that you never even had a chance with her.</span></div></div>


