# chapters

path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122
author_id: seuzz
title: Wrong Faces in Wrong Places
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>So you'd have to wait ... what would it be? Two days longer to get your minion up and running? You can live with that. "The way I'm feeling right now, I'd fuck up every order if I covered for you today," you tell Justin.<br/>
<br/>
He passes the word to Connor, then gives you a funny look as you linger at the store with him. "I need some caffeine," you explain. He whips you up a cappuccino and sends you on your way.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Pouring caffeine into a pit of deep exhaustion turns out not to be the best idea you've ever had. You've a feeling like popcorn exploding behind your eyeballs, and when you talk it's like your tongue, jaw and lips are trying to go in six different directions at once. During first period Mr. Walberg almost climbs onto the lectern when you answer one of his questions with noises that sound like a stroke victim trying to talk in one of those sub-Saharan languages that's full of clicks and pops.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you on prescription medicine or something?" Caleb asks as you lurch toward the doorway when the bell rings.<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck are you asking me that for? Aren't you—?" You were going to ask if he wasn't also exhausted, but he doesn't look it. He looks completely fresh and rested and relaxed. "Why are you looking so—so—?" You can't find a word to describe him. <i>Crisply laundered and buffed for a new day</i> would be one way to describe him, but your brain has unraveled into a heap of loose yarn, so you fail to come up with any good description at all.<br/>
<br/>
"Why am I looking so sexy?" Caleb finishes for you.<br/>
<br/>
"Not hardly." Someone jostles you in the push toward the door, almost pitching you into a wall. Normally you'd snarl something at them, but now you just lean against the cool plaster and try to recover some little strength. "Last night, didn't it wear you totally out?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb gets a slightly panicked expression. "Oh sure! But I got a good night's sleep so I'm all, you know, recharged." He hurries out the door.<br/>
<br/>
He's gone before it occurs to you what must be going on. You and Justin were supposed to switch this morning, and at the same time Caleb and Connor were supposed to switch. So that must be Connor inside Caleb's mask. He must be getting some kind of extra strength from it.<br/>
<br/>
But why is he pretending like he doesn't know you were all out late working last night? Well, you'll ask him at lunch.<br/>
<br/>
If you don't sleep through it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
And maybe you do fall asleep, for being asleep on your feet is the only excuse you can have for bouncing off of Joshua Call outside your bullshit, third-period Career Planning class. One minute you're squeezing through the crowded hallways like a glob of toothpaste, and the next your face and shoulder are ricocheting off a hard torso wrapped in a t-shirt the color of ketchup. (Or dried blood.) You look up with a scowl, and feel the scowl numbly slide off your face when the owner of that t-shirt turns around.<br/>
<br/>
You'd forgotten about him—both about the fact that he is supposedly enrolled at Westside High and that you spotted him (and he spotted you) at Wal-Mart last week when you and Connor were shopping for supplies for the first minion. You'd forgotten about him because, blessedly, he seemed to have forgotten seeing you.<br/>
<br/>
But what is Call even doing here? What little you've heard about him, he's on his way to dropping out.<br/>
<br/>
And why are you even worrying about this instead of scrambling away?<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit.</i> As you step backward you glimpse the answer inside the classroom: Nicholas Horner and Jeff Spencer are there. Those are two of Call's friends. Of all the days for them to show up—<br/>
<br/>
You dodge around Call and through the doorway, and at first you think he's going to let things pass. But then you feel his feet on the back of your heels. You trip and almost fall into Vanessa Bailey's lap. She shrinks back from you and gives you a dirty look, and gives an even dirtier look to the guy treading on your feet.<br/>
<br/>
You slide into your desk and look up at Call from under your eyebrows. He stares down stonily at you, but you can see a trace of malicious amusement in his eyes. "Hey, man, what's up?" you croak at him.<br/>
<br/>
Hard muscles in his shoulders twitch. Then he shoots a glance at the front of the room. <i>Thank God.</i> Mr. Peters is watching with a look of interested bemusement.<br/>
<br/>
Call looks back down at you, and for a moment you're convinced he's going to hock a loogie into your lap. But he backs off with a nasty smile instead. That would be bad enough, but he gives a long look to his two friends, and out of the corner of your eye you see them give you the same nasty smiles that Call has given you. All during class you feel their eyes on the back and sides of your head.<br/>
<br/>
You bolt from the room when the bell rings, and make it to English without being intercepted.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Are you going to try copying Kelsey today?" you ask Caleb in a low voice after you've recovered your breath. (He's in that class too.)<br/>
<br/>
"Connor and Justin said they were going to do that," he replies.<br/>
<br/>
"Cut the crap, Hutchison," you murmur back. "I know it's you."<br/>
<br/>
He pales. "Oh. Okay. You got me." He flashes a quick, mirthless grin.<br/>
<br/>
"So are you going to try that thing today?"<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"You got any ideas for how to do it?"<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus." You rub your eyes. "How are you managing to be so, like, awake and stuff?"<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, I slept well last night. Seven hours."<br/>
<br/>
"No you didn't."<br/>
<br/>
He swallows. "Quality makes up for quantity?"<br/>
<br/>
You stare at him hard, but Ms. Gladstone calls class to order before you can figure out what's going on.<br/>
<br/>
When you do figure it out, you almost come out of your chair with a yawp, and the whole class swings around to stare at you. You bury your head under your arms, and from under them you shoot laser beams with your eyes at Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
At minion-Caleb, that is.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Look, I can't tell you anything," he says, and with dismaying ease pries your hand off the front of his shirt. It's lunch time and you're behind the music wing with him. It. Whatever the correct pronoun is. "That guy—" He makes a face. "Uh, Caleb. Jesus, do you know how weird it is to feel like you're the real guy when you know you're only a copy of someone else?"<br/>
<br/>
"No I don't, and I'll make you feel something worse than that if you don't tell me what your fucking original is doing."<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, I can't tell you. He was very specific about that." A kind of shudder ripples through him. "Just thinking about it makes me feel really weird, like I'm going to fall apart."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm going to tear you apart if—" But it's no use threatening the thing. You haven't the strength to even grab onto him, let alone thrash him. "Can you tell me where he is?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's kind of a gray area, I think, but I think he doesn't what me telling you guys anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Why not?"<br/>
<br/>
"If I told you that, I'd be telling you what he's doing, and I can't do that."<br/>
<br/>
This talk is going to turn into a bad comedy routine if you keep it up, and it would just get worse if Keith Tilley—who has just appeared around a corner—joins in, so you drop it. "If you're not going to say anything, at least don't say anything to Keith," you tell the minion.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't gotta do what you say."<br/>
<br/>
"Shut the fuck up."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
At least you've got a puzzle to work on, and that helps keep you awake the rest of the day. How did Caleb get into the school basement to switch the minion? When did he do that switch? And where is he now and what is he doing?<br/>
<br/>
Well, ten to one he's doing whatever he was wanting to do when he tried getting you to lend him the key to the basement. He had to have made the switch early this morning, since he was with you last night at the cemetery. And as for getting into the basement—<br/>
<br/>
You feel at your pockets and pull out your truck keys. The basement key is missing off the ring. Fucker must have picked your pocket last night.<br/>
<br/>
You have very little time to get out to the school before your four o'clock curfew, and you don't spare the horsepower getting there. The lock is off the basement door, and you push your way in with a grim look. A girl's voice sounds as you come down the stairs. "Hey, that was fast. Get on the table and—"<br/>
<br/>
You freeze on the bottom stair. Eva Garner—a naked Eva Garner—stares back at you.<br/>
<br/>
You guffaw. "Dude! I shoulda guessed!"<br/>
<br/>
Eva—Caleb, that is—grabs up a sleeping bag to hide her body. "God damn it, Will! If you tell the other guys—!"<br/>
<br/>
But it sounds like the other guys are already here. You look up at the sound of heavy steps on the stairs above.<br/>
<br/>
It's not Justin or Connor, though, and your sphincter loosens at the sight of Joshua Call. His eyes make a slow journey of it between you and the naked Eva. The silence only misses the distant bark of a dog to have the final touch of comedy to it.<br/>
<br/>
Then a figure like a spider monkey leaps on his back. Call and the interloper fall headlong down the stairs, and you are barely able to leap out of the away as they come at you like an avalanche. As the echoes die, Caleb Johansson—the minion—gets shakily to his feet, but Call remains very still. After a moment of paralysis, you bend down and turn him over. He's breathing, but there's a bloody gash across his forehead.<br/>
<br/>
You look up in horror at Eva. "Shit. What do we do?"<br/>
<br/>
For a moment she struggles. Then with a kind of hoarse ferocity she says, "We use the new spell on him."<br/>
<br/>
"It'll kill him!"<br/>
<br/>
"It's him or us!"</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221
author_id: seuzz
title: A Bad Spill and a Bad Spell
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's all happened so fast you barely have time to comprehend it: Joshua Call has been knocked out cold.<br/>
<br/>
And before you can say another word or make another move, Caleb's minion flies at you.<br/>
<br/>
He's surprisingly lithe and strong. Or maybe he just caught you with your guard down. Either way, he throws you into a desk with a blow that knocks all the air out of you.<br/>
<br/>
A girlish shriek sounds nearby. "What the fuck are you doing? Get off him!"<br/>
<br/>
Instantly, the thing that looks like your best friend scrambles back. There's no fear or anger in its face, only worry as it looks over at a pink-faced Eva Garner. "What did you do that for?" she demands.<br/>
<br/>
"It's what you told me to do," minion-Caleb says. "You told me not to let anyone in here. That's why I—" He nods at Call, and jerks his chin at you.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't mean my friends!"<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't tell me there were any exceptions!"<br/>
<br/>
You suck in a sharp breath as you sit up: you landed hard on your back and though you doubt anything is broken, several of your ribs are very tender. "Never mind your guard dog," you say. "What about Call?"<br/>
<br/>
Eva squats next to him. "We use that new spell on him."<br/>
<br/>
"We can't do that! We all agreed we couldn't!"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't agree to cut my own throat, and what do you think he'll do if we let him wake up? What's he even doing here anyway? What are <i>you</i> doing here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm here because I figured out you sent Captain Counterfeit to school today. Call's here because he must have followed me."<br/>
<br/>
"What did you say to him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't say anything! I bumped into him, that's all!"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Jesus, what a mess," Eva moans. "Help me get the stuff together so we can work that spell on him."<br/>
<br/>
"I can't! I have a four o'clock curfew and I gotta get home or my dad'll kill me!"<br/>
<br/>
"Call will kill you! At least help me make a start!"<br/>
<br/>
The pisser is that Caleb is right. There's no telling what horrors will result when Joshua Call wakes up.<br/>
<br/>
After struggling to pick him up—but he's way to big and dense with muscles for that—you leave him on the floor and hurriedly get the stuff together for the spell that the four of you solemnly foreswore from executing. It doesn't take long, since it uses almost all the ingredients that go into the spell that makes the minion. The only difference is that it only uses a handful of cemetery dirt instead of a truckload.<br/>
<br/>
And it uses a living human body.<br/>
<br/>
So you mix up a slurry like you'd make for a minion. Your colleague is about to pour it over Joshua when you grab her wrist. "Hair," you say. "It needs hair."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll use Eva's," Caleb says.<br/>
<br/>
"We'll use mine," you retort. "You've already got one minion." You shoot a dark glare at the fake Caleb, who has retreated into a corner but is watching with a hopeful kind of interest in the goings-on. You yank open a drawer, looking for scissors—<br/>
<br/>
A blank mask rattles and bumps into view. <i>An extra mask?</i><br/>
<br/>
Oh right, it must be the one you made up to use on Kelsey. "Quick, put this on him," you say, and toss the mask to Eva.<br/>
<br/>
"What for? That's not part of the—"<br/>
<br/>
"In case something goes wrong. We'll have a backup of him, we can put it on the minion."<br/>
<br/>
"Just what I wanted for Christmas," she mutters as she kneels beside Call again. "A robo-call."<br/>
<br/>
"Hilarious." You check your phone. "I gotta go."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not bailing on me before we do this!"<br/>
<br/>
"I have to! I told you, my dad'll—"<br/>
<br/>
"Your dad's at work!"<br/>
<br/>
"My mom will tell him I was late, and if she doesn't my brother will!" You hop over to the stairs. "You'll be fine! I'll call you when I get home!"<br/>
<br/>
"Fucker!"<br/>
<br/>
You run up the stairs. You suppose that Caleb could have sent his minion to chase and to stop you, but you make it out before he can realize it.<br/>
<br/>
And you brake into your driveway with roughly two minutes to spare.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You fully intend to call Caleb and to talk him through the spell once you're inside your bedroom. But your mom stops you just inside the door with a short list of things that she needs you to pick up at the store for supper; and you're only a block down the road when she calls you to say that your little brother needs a ride home from the middle school, as he had a flat on his bicycle. Robert's school is on your way to the market, so you don't even get to talk to Caleb while you're doing the shopping, and you gnaw your lip impatiently through these errands; and when you get home you spill canned goods all over the floor in your haste to get them into the pantry. A solid hour passes before you're able to make that call.<br/>
<br/>
That gives you plenty of time to worry about what's going on in the school basement, since you keep expecting Caleb to call you first. And all those worries revolve around the new spell and the ways it might go wrong or rebound in terrifying ways. After all, it's got Joshua Call at the center of it.<br/>
<br/>
It was Connor, naturally, who put his finger on what was so scary about the spell—aside from the way it called for a human body to be used in it. "It's the same spell as the one before," he pointed out. "Same ingredients, anyway." He peered at the book closely. "The screwy sigil looks real similar, too. I bet it does the same thing."<br/>
<br/>
"Makes a minion?" Justin said.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. I think it just substitutes a person for the cemetery dirt."<br/>
<br/>
"Dur," said Caleb. "But why make that substitution?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck if I know. Maybe a living human's got more of the magical whackadoo that a minion needs, so you only need a hundred and fifty pounds or so of human instead of four hundred pounds of dirt."<br/>
<br/>
"Or maybe it turns the person into a minion directly?" Justin suggested. "You know, so they're your minion without there having to be a mask?"<br/>
<br/>
"Either way," said Connor firmly, "it looks like it turns a person into a minion. And either it kills him or brainwashes him." He closed the book. "Human experimentation is a little too much for me."<br/>
<br/>
Everyone else had agreed.<br/>
<br/>
But now that it has come to the point, you can't help wondering if Connor was right. <i>What if the spell gives Call superpowers?</i> You can't help cussing at the book silently as you take out your phone and throw yourself onto your bed. <i>Why can't it be like a straightforward cookbook and tell you what you're making instead of leaving you to run these horrible risks?</i><br/>
<br/>
"Will!" your mom calls from downstairs just as Caleb's phone rings.<br/>
<br/>
You cuss again, and with the phone to you ear run out the door and to the stairs. Caleb doesn't answer before you're at the bottom.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't have to answer, because he's standing in the kitchen, looking red-faced and a little haggard. You do a double-take between him and your mom.<br/>
<br/>
She holds up a single finger. "Twenty minutes," she says. "Caleb says he needs your help with his car. You have twenty minutes, until it's straight-up five-thirty. If you're not back before your father pulls in—"<br/>
<br/>
"I will be! Thanks Mom!" you shout, and drag Caleb out the door. "Christ, that's lucky. What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sure. I was just told to come find you."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, God damn it, it's <i>you</i>, is it? Is Caleb okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's still dressed up like Eva Garner so he's smoking sexy—"<br/>
<br/>
"Did the fucking spell go off okay?"<br/>
<br/>
He scratches the back of his head. "That's what we're not sure about.<br/>
<br/>
It only takes a few minutes to get to the school, and you make the minion lead the way down the stairs. Another Caleb—this one naked—is waiting, and he shows you his teeth before speaking. "I thought you said you were going to call!"<br/>
<br/>
"I had to—" You stop, and quiver. There's another person in the basement: Eva Garner, and she is just as naked as Caleb. Or, you guess she is, since she's holding the sleeping bag in front of her. Anger and horror show on her face.<br/>
<br/>
There is at least one too many people here. Before you can ask which one it is, the naked Caleb speaks. "Tell her to calm down."<br/>
<br/>
"Who? Me? And who do I tell—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Eva, you dope. You see any other 'her' here?"<br/>
<br/>
Your throat goes numb, but you manage to force the words out. "Eva, calm down."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb rolls his eyes. "How about you try harder than that."<br/>
<br/>
But it has had some effect on the girl, for she relaxes a little, though she still looks deeply uncomfortable. You point to her. "Wait a minute, is that—Is that—?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's the new minion," Caleb says. "The one with your hair in it. So when she started screaming, I had to get you out here to shut her up."<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw drops. "You mean that's Joshua Call under there?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sure where Call is, exactly," says Caleb. He picks up a mask. "I guess we got a copy of him in here. But the guy himself, I think, is—" He trails off and looks at Eva. <br/>
<br/>
You gulp at the implication: <i>Call is under there, but he's under your control.</i><br/>
<br/>
So it appears that Connor was right: the new spell has transformed Joshua Call into a minion. Into <i>your</i> minion.<br/>
<br/>
More than that, you realize, you've now got a way out of curfew: You can send a copy of yourself back home; but you'd have to assume the identity of Joshua Call for at least twelve hours while the minion was playing you.</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212
author_id: seuzz
title: A Minion of Your Own
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You don't like being grounded, but you doubt you'd like playing Joshua Call any better. Being safe from him is good enough. Having him as a minion is an unexpected bonus—though one that makes you feel more than a little guilty.<br/>
<br/>
"I can only stay out for ten minutes," you tell Caleb. "What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
"It was like making the first minion, but a lot faster. I took Call's clothes off him—ychh—and poured the shit over him."<br/>
<br/>
"With my hair in it, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Caleb says wearily. "I couldn't forget that, not the way you were shitting yourself over it. I set the mess on fire and there was another big flash, but this time the fire burned for only a few seconds. Which left me crapping myself, but it didn't relight when I tried. Then I saw what it made."<br/>
<br/>
He quivers a little. "It was like it turned him into stone. It was Call, but he was grayish-white all over, and hard like he'd been encased in concrete. That was creepy enough, but I kept expecting his eyes to pop open, like in a horror movie. Finally I worked up the nerve to put a mask on him. I didn't want him coming back in any kind of body I couldn't handle, so I took off Eva's mask and put it on him, and—" He points to Eva.<br/>
<br/>
The girl has been huddling up against a wall, listening intently to all this, and looking like she's about to cry. "Eva?" you say to her gently. "Are you okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think so," she says in a half-sob, and her lower lip trembles even harder.<br/>
<br/>
"Joshua Call," you say. "You know who he is, right?"<br/>
<br/>
A look of distaste comes over her face, and she nods.<br/>
<br/>
"Do you know where he is?"<br/>
<br/>
Distaste turns to a kind of despairing confusion. "I don't know," she wails. "I don't know what's going on! I was here, wherever here is—" She looks fearfully around the basement "—all day, and then you came in and Joshua came in, and Caleb came in and there was a fight, and I was—" She falters. "I was saying and doing stuff I really don't understand, and then it was like I passed out and when I woke up—" Tears well up in her eyes. "I really want to go home, Will," she wails. "I don't like whatever this is!"<br/>
<br/>
"It's alright, Eva," you say soothingly. "You trust me, right?" She looks doubtful. "You trust me," you say more firmly, "and you'll let me help you."<br/>
<br/>
Tears pour down her cheeks, but she visibly relaxes and doesn't fight you when you reach for her face. She just closes her eyes as your fingers close over her temple.<br/>
<br/>
You chant some arcane syllables and pull. There's an obscure flurry of motion beneath your fingertips, and you stagger back a step as Eva transforms into a perfectly executed statue of Joshua Call.<br/>
<br/>
It's just like Caleb had said. He is the color of concrete, and so minutely detailed that you'd think it was the asshole himself wearing some kind of makeup: you can see the very fine folds of skin when you peer closely, and minute acne eruptions. But when you touch and press him, his flesh is cold and unyielding, like rock. Even his hair has the texture of stone that has been carved.<br/>
<br/>
"I really have to get home now," you say when you've recovered your voice. You snatch the grimoire up from the floor, where it had been laying open under Call. "I'll take a look at the spell, see what else it has to tell us."<br/>
<br/>
"What do I do about ... him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Leave him here. I'll come out tomorrow morning and—" You shiver. "And if it looks like it's okay I'll put Call's mask on him and send him out. But hide him, okay, in case Connor or Justin come out."<br/>
<br/>
Your knees are knocking as you run up the stairs and outside. You feel horror and trepidation, but also a little excitement as you race home, which you reach without incident and beating your dad by almost twenty minutes.<br/>
<br/>
The spell Caleb used on Call seems to have executed correctly, for you are able to turn the page over and read the rest of it. It confirms the deductions your quartet had made: it turned Call into the same kind of minion that you had made earlier, and it appears that it will work the same way. You're more cheerful—though still guilt-stricken over what you've done—as you go to bed, for tomorrow when you put Call's mask onto the minion, you will have an obedient Joshua Call at school with you.<br/>
<br/>
Except that you've forgotten about that head wound.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"We were just horsing around and I tackled him, and we fell onto the ground together. We were on a patch of concrete, and I don't know what he hit, exactly, but—" You trail off.<br/>
<br/>
The doctor's face is grave. "It looks like he hit the corner of something."<br/>
<br/>
"There was some furniture around. Um, is it really serious?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. It might just be a minor concussion. You're sure you don't have any contact information for his family or relatives?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. Can I stay with him?"<br/>
<br/>
"He could stand to see a friendly face when he wakes up." The doctor moves off abruptly.<br/>
<br/>
You're in a kind of holding room off the emergency room at the hospital. It was the only thing you could think to do after you put Call's mask onto the minion and he fell to the floor, unconscious, with blood oozing from his forehead. At least you had the presence of mind to yank the mask back off him.<br/>
<br/>
It was seven thirty in the morning—an early start to the day, as you had much to do before school—and your mind raced frantically and uselessly for several minutes before you began to settle on a course of action. You slapped the mask of yourself onto the minion, and after getting it to shut up—which only took as long as for you to say "Shut up"—you made it put on Call's clothes and ride with you in your truck to the hospital. There you swapped masks on the minion—your mask for Call's—and rushed him into the emergency room. Grimly, you reflected that a medical emergency was a good excuse for missing school.<br/>
<br/>
You're now sitting next to a gurney on which Call is propped up with his head bandaged. Worry soon turns to boredom, compounded by the fidgetiness that comes from trying not to pay attention to all the other sick and wounded people in the room. The doctor wasn't concerned enough to put Call into a room.<br/>
<br/>
A couple of hours pass. You surf the web on your phone and text Caleb with an update and with answers to his questions. He helps out by going around to your classrooms and telling your teachers that you're out helping a friend who has a medical emergency. You back it up on your end by getting a signed note from the physician who has been looking after the case.<br/>
<br/>
A little before noon, Call's eyes flicker open, and you summon a nurse. She restrains Call, gives him a brief account of his hitting his head, and gives him an examination. She goes off to get some painkillers, leaving you alone with your erstwhile adversary/minion.<br/>
<br/>
He is, at first, naturally very hostile to the sight of you, and his face shows alarm, anger, and fear when he discovers that you are able to shut him up and make him be still just by telling him to do so. After that, you quietly impress upon him the story that he is to tell people: that he met you at the old Acheson elementary school for an exchange of homework, and that some playful rough-housing turned very physical; and that he is not angry with you.<br/>
<br/>
The latter directive, which you assumed would have just controlled his mouth, seems to change his entire attitude. All the hostility drains from him, and he looks at you with a much friendlier mien.  Tentatively, you try building on it, telling him that he likes you, that he wants to protect you, and that he wants to beat the shit out of anyone who hassles you. He'll start attending classes again, and he'll watch out for you in the hallways. He'll also defend you if any of his own friends start criticizing you or the way he's watching out for you. By the end, you're exchanging firm handshakes and exclamations of mutual esteem.<br/>
<br/>
The doctor comes in a little later, and Call tells him the story that you'd given him to tell, and tells it with all the conviction of someone who really believes it. He gives a phone number for an aunt he's living with, so that she can be contacted.<br/>
<br/>
There is only one problematic note during the examination and interview, before you leave. The doctor changes the dressing on the head wound, and frowns over it, and frowns over the wound itself, which doesn't look as nasty as it had when it was covered in fresh blood but still looks unpleasant. With beating heart you ask him if there's a problem. He doesn't answer, and only replaces the dressing. You notice, however, that he takes the old bandage with him instead of chucking it into the trash.<br/>
<br/>
But there's no further reason to stay at the hospital, and you part with Joshua by telling him to call you later tonight to talk.<br/>
<br/>
It looks like you might have the rest of the day free, if you chose to take it. You ought to head back to the school. But maybe you ought to tell Justin and Connor what happened with Call, and how you had to use the forbidden spell. There is an hour coming up when they will both be at Starbucks, and you could tell them then.</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121
author_id: seuzz
title: A Stolen Day
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're tempted to say nothing to Justin and Connor. <i>What they don't know won't hurt them</i> and all that. But there's always the chance that they'll notice that the page with the forbidden spell has turned loose, and then they'll want to know what has happened, and it'll be worse having to explain everything afterward. With a sinking feeling, you decide it's best to come clean with them.<br/>
<br/>
You stop by the school before going to the Starbucks, to drop off the note from the hospital and to explain that you need to skip the rest of the day as well. It turns out to all be pretty straightforward, though the secretary also says she'll be notifying your parents, so there's another awful conversation you'll have to face later on.<br/>
<br/>
Connor hasn't shown up at work yet when you arrive, and Justin is busy. He gives you a puzzled look when he sees you, and comes over ten minutes later to the table where you've camped. You tell him you need to talk to him and Connor together; he replies that that'll be difficult since they will both have work to do. So you ask him for a pad of scrap paper and a pencil, and with those supplies you scrawl out a disjointed account of yesterday's events. When Connor—a few minutes late, by the look of it—rushes in, you signal him over, press the pad into his hands, and sit back to wait for a chance when they have both read and digested the news.<br/>
<br/>
It's forty minutes before that happens, and it's Justin who comes over to sit with you. His expression is intense. "The fuck are you and Caleb doing behind our backs,? he demands in a fierce whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not our fault," you hiss back. "Call followed me back, and then Caleb's minion jumped him and knocked him out."<br/>
<br/>
"That doesn't mean you should have used that—" He glances over his shoulder. "That spell," he mouths.<br/>
<br/>
"What did you want, to see me and Caleb in the hospital? Or chucked into juvenile hall for trespassing or shit? Anyway, it's not like anyone's noticed."<br/>
<br/>
"You killed him, it sounds like." Justin's voice is inaudible, but you can read his lips and thoughts plain enough.<br/>
<br/>
"It was him or us. You remember Call. The guy who hangs around Jeff Spencer and Joe Thomason and—"<br/>
<br/>
"Spencer," Justin says, and his expression becomes drawn. "Oh fuck, I remember who you're talking about now."<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't know who he was?"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought he was just one of the guys who hassles <i>you.</i>" His tone suggests he doesn't know who he has a lower opinion of: you, or the kind of losers who hassle losers like you. He pinches his nose and rubs his eyes and for a very long time without saying anything, only sighing. And before speaking again, he abruptly gets up and goes behind the counter, where he has a fast, intense conference with Connor, who looks startled and gives you hard look. Then Justin returns. "Come on, let's sit outside," he says.<br/>
<br/>
He leads you around the back of the Starbucks and pulls up a loose stone from near the corner of the building; to your surprise he takes out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the hole. He offers you one, but you decline. He lights one and draws deeply on it a few times before speaking.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, this is just my opinion," he says. "I don't speak for Connor, but he likes you and Caleb more than I do."<br/>
<br/>
"Gee, thanks," you mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"What's done is done," he continues, "and if it was one of Spencer's asshole friends—and if it was the asshole friend I think you're talking about—then I guess we can try to forget what happened and just carry on. But we're not doing that again, okay?" He fixes you with a piercing look.<br/>
<br/>
You nod fervently. "I feel horrible about it. We only did it because, well—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I get it. Just so long as you don't go around doing more of it." He takes a few more puffs. "Did you look at the spell that came after?" he asks in a lower voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. I don't have any clue what it does, though. It looks like you make up some kind of paste, using a lot of the same ingredients that you use to make a minion. Hair, a little cemetery dirt, those chemicals. You set it on fire then the paste gets spread inside a mask. I don't see the use or point of it."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm. I get off in an hour. Let's go over to the school and pick up the book. I want to look at that new spell, and I'm sure Connor will want to too."<br/>
<br/>
"I can pick it up now, bring it over."<br/>
<br/>
Justin shrugs, so that's what you do.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's still almost two hours before you have to be back home, so you spend the balance of the time making up a new mask to replace the one you had to use on Call. There's not enough time to buff it, so you just make the basic mask and metal band; later on you'll carve the runes into the latter and buff the former.<br/>
<br/>
Your mom has a very concerned expression when you get home, for she has heard from the school, and she talks to you about what happened: you give her the story of meeting a classmate before school—you tell her he needed a ride—and how horseplay led to an accident. You recount the same story to your father when he gets home. The family conference goes off better than you'd dreaded, but your dad questions you closely and directly, and demands to know if the incident this morning had anything to do with your reasons for staying out all Sunday night. You insist it doesn't. He seems disbelieving but can't shake your story, and only acidly observes that you've been getting into a lot of mischief lately. He and your mom have a conference of their own in the bedroom later that evening; but if they decide anything, they don't tell you.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb drops off homework for you; between that, work on the metal band, and a couple of texted conversations with him, Connor and Justin, you have a very busy evening. Plans get made: Tomorrow you'll finish making a new mask while one of them goes over to the school to start up work on the new minions; and on Wednesday you'll cover for them at work while they go in to school to scout out ways of getting a mask onto Kelsey. <br/>
<br/>
Things start to unfold as planned the next day, though there's a wrinkle after school when your dad asks you to go with him over to see that aunt that Joshua Call lives with. You're not surprised to find that it's a trailer park, or that this aunt is nothing but baggy skin and bones and is missing her two front teeth. Your dad wants to make sure that everything is alright on Call's end of things, and you're very happy that you were able to "reprogram" the minion, for your schoolmate is cheerful and friendly and backs you up all the way. It is said that there will be no lasting harm to him from the incident, a remark which causes your lips to twitch.<br/>
<br/>
Otherwise, things go as intended and without a hitch. With the excuse that you're helping a friend with an art project you polish up the mask in the garage and attach the metal band to its inner surface. You get a good night's sleep on Tuesday, and meet Justin early Wednesday morning  at the school. He's close-mouthed when you ask what he and Connor decided about the new spell, and just tells you to get undressed. You've just pulled your shirt off over your head when something large comes flying at your face—<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You pass from dreamless sleep to a groggy waking that you are coming to recognize as one associated with taking masks on and off. Your head throbs slightly as you sit up. Justin must have slammed his mask into your face while you were undressing, though why he would have done that—<br/>
<br/>
You stop and settle back onto your elbows. Connor is leaning against a desk opposite, smiling at you. Okay, it looks like Connor, but it must be Justin, right? "Hey," you grunt. "Why are you done up like Connor? I thought you were going in to school as me."<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm going in as Caleb," he says. "I was waiting for you to wake up before changing."<br/>
<br/>
This makes no sense. "Then why did you put on Connor's mask?"<br/>
<br/>
He laughs. "I'm not wearing a mask. This is my face."<br/>
<br/>
<i>So that's really Connor?</i> "Then where's Justin?"<br/>
<br/>
"At work."<br/>
<br/>
Okay, you've had enough of the games. "What the fuck? I thought I was supposed to cover for him at work today."<br/>
<br/>
"You covered for him yesterday. Today's Thursday."<br/>
<br/>
"The hell?"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't remember? You covered for Justin yesterday morning, and for me yesterday afternoon. You also spent the night and morning at our place, and I covered for you at home. You really don't remember?" he asks again as you gape at him.<br/>
<br/>
"Stop fucking with me, man."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not fucking with you. We used you as a guinea pig," he says. "It's all okay, and it makes up for the dumbass stuff you did last weekend."<br/>
<br/>
"Guinea pig?" You feel yourself pale. "What did you do? Did you try out that new spell on—" Your mouth turns dry, suddenly. "On me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but don't worry. It's all okay."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay?! According to you, I just lost a day of my life!"<br/>
<br/>
"It wasn't a very important day. But I'll make it up to you now, let you take a day from someone else."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean, take a day from someone else?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm gonna help you set it up. We're going to use the new spell to get that new mask onto Kelsey, <i>and</i> we're gonna have fun with disguises."  He cocks his head. "So how do you want to get close to Kelsey? Disguised as one of the Garners? Or as Karl?"</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211
author_id: seuzz
title: How to Make a Temporary Minion
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"You're not making any sense," you tell Connor. "How did I lose a day, and what are you talking about with—?"<br/>
<br/>
"We'll talk about it on the way to class," Connor says. He swings his legs up onto the table, and before you can stop him he's laid back and settled a mask onto his face. You'd like to throttle him, but it would look like you're throttling Caleb, and that wouldn't give you the same satisfaction.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"It's that new spell," says the guy in the passenger side of your truck on the way out to Westside. It looks like Caleb, but it's actually Connor.<br/>
<br/>
"You already said that," you grumble.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it turns people into minions. But only temporarily."<br/>
<br/>
Turns people into minions. And he used it on you. You jerk the wheel violently, cutting off traffic in the other lane as you dive into the parking lot in front of a convenience store. "I thought you said we weren't going to use spells like that any more," you tell him sharply after you've pulled to a hard stop.<br/>
<br/>
"It only does it temporarily," Connor says. "It doesn't hurt them or kill them. Like you did to—"<br/>
<br/>
"But you used it on me!"<br/>
<br/>
"And it didn't hurt you." There's something slightly off about his grin. It's sort of like the shit-eating grin that Caleb puts on when he's feeling particularly gleeful, but there's something missing inside it.<br/>
<br/>
"So tell me about it."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm trying to. Come on, we don't want to be late to class."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll fucking turn this truck around and we'll miss the whole day if you don't start—"<br/>
<br/>
He sighs, and relates it from the beginning.<br/>
<br/>
As you'd noticed, the new spell uses almost all the same ingredients as the spells that make minions, only it makes up a kind of paste that you put inside a mask. "It's like putting a minion inside the mask," Connor explains. "And it turns whoever puts that mask on into a minion. The minion of the person whose hair is in it. At least we think it's the hair that does the trick. It's the hair that works in the other sorts of minion, but we should run a few experiments just to be—"<br/>
<br/>
"Just tell me what the fuck you did to me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, we tried it on ourselves first, not you. We got our masks—the ones of Justin and I, you know—and we put the paste inside it. We used Justin's hair inside his mask, and my hair inside mine. We tried our own masks on at first." He snaps his fingers. "Oh, we found out something real interesting when we did that. It turns out that if you put your own mask on, it's like it downloads all the memories into your own brain, so that you, uh, remember all the stuff that the mask was doing if it was out riding around on someone else. So, for instance, Justin went to class as you yesterday. If you put on your mask again, you'll all the memories of what he did."<br/>
<br/>
That sounds convenient, but it's hardly the most important thing you want to hear about right now, and you snap your own fingers impatiently at him.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, so we put on our own masks, and nothing happened except we got some new memories. But then Justin put on my mask, and he turned into me. But he turned into a minion of me. I mean, he was me, but he was also my minion, and he didn't remember being Justin. He thought he was me, and he only remembered the stuff I remembered, and he totally had to do the stuff I told him to do. I took it off him, and after he woke up he didn't remember anything that he'd said or done. It was like he was asleep under the mask."<br/>
<br/>
"So if you tested it on yourselves, why did you test it on me? And without warning me," you add through gritted teeth.<br/>
<br/>
"Because you deserved it after all the fuckups you've done recently. And we wanted to do a safe, dry practice run for what we're going to try doing this weekend."<br/>
<br/>
"What's that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like what we did with you. Justin hit you with his mask yesterday, which turned you into his minion, and you went around and did all the stuff he told you to do. You went to work, and you came home, and you did some shopping and helped fix meals—"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus!"<br/>
<br/>
"—and spent the night and came out here this morning. And when I took the mask off you—" He laughs, and it doesn't sound like Caleb laughing. "You didn't even know any time had gone by and still thought it was Wednesday morning!"<br/>
<br/>
You press a middle finger against his cheek.<br/>
<br/>
"So we're going to try doing that with someone else this afternoon or tomorrow. Take 'em out of action, slip into their place, get a mask of Kelsey, then let them back out to wonder if they somehow missed a day somewhere. That's why I'm asking if you want to try using one of the Garners if you want to use Karl Hennepin."<br/>
<br/>
You're coming up on the school, so you don't have a lot of concentration to spare for this very weird question. You're not sure you understand it. "So, you're saying I'd—We'd kind of push these people out of the way—"<br/>
<br/>
"For a day. Maybe less."<br/>
<br/>
"And I'd play them, use them to get a copy of Kelsey?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right. You wouldn't have to worry about running into anyone, because the real person would be out of the way."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Whoa.</i> This is a little more intense than a slumber party. This is like full-on identity theft. Bodily identity theft. For only a little while, but a lot more intense than just getting together quietly somewhere with just friends to screw around.<br/>
<br/>
Only one thing puzzles you: "Why aren't you and Justin doing this yourself? Why are you putting it onto me?"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't want to do it? Justin and I'll do it, no trouble. We just thought you'd want to take a first crack at it."<br/>
<br/>
You don't answer, being in a bit of a daze. <i>Getting to be someone else. In public. With their friends.</i> More than that: Getting to be one of the popular kids, the ones who sail around like they're too cool for you. Which they are.<br/>
<br/>
"If you want us to handle it for you, Will—"<br/>
<br/>
"What are my choices? I mean, <i>who</i> are my choices?" Your heart beats rapidly.<br/>
<br/>
"The people you got masks of. Except for Geoff Mansfield, unless you want to try faking your way through without that mental metal thing in the mask. The Garner sisters, plus Marc. That girl Marc was with. And Karl."<br/>
<br/>
You can rule out Hannah. She was fun, but she doesn't have anything to do with Kelsey. Karl—her secret boyfriend—is an obvious one to try using. That's why you copied him. Marc moves in Kelsey's circle, but Eva and Jessica are actual friends of hers. Insofar as Kelsey has friends.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh my God, and they're cheerleaders, too! You could get into the girls' locker room during cheerleader practice and—</i><br/>
<br/>
The honk of a horn brings you back to the present, and you swerve back into your lane. Your palms are sweaty. "Giving it some thought, huh?" Connor says in a sly tease.<br/>
<br/>
But you're now glaring at the car that honked at you. It's a black muscle car, at least twenty years old but in very good shape. Not content to honk at you, the driver has pulled into the lane in front of you and slowed down to about half the speed limit, forcing you to slam on the brakes. You're crawling along now, being tailgated by the car behind you and cramped in by the one in front. You fume, and even though the school is coming up fast on the right, and there is traffic in the left-hand lane, you risk a wreck by jumping out to the left and roaring past the obstruction.<br/>
<br/>
Or you try to. The asshole leaps forward, cutting you off and forcing you past the turn-off into the student lot.<br/>
<br/>
Connor grabs onto the console of the truck and says a couple of bad words, which you can't make out through the roar of angrified blood in your ears. "Calm the fuck down, Will," are the first of his words that you make out when you're rational enough. "Just circle around—"<br/>
<br/>
"Circle around where?" you yell.<br/>
<br/>
"Christ. Make a left up here at the next subdivision."<br/>
<br/>
You mutter foul imprecations against the cocksucker who forced you into this maneuver. After that you have to make a left turn into the student lot, and wait for almost five minutes before the line of cars turning in thins enough that you can leap like a rabbit across the opposite lanes. It earns you the blast of a horn from another car, and now you don't care, and lean across Connor to flip that other person off while guiding your truck with one hand. "Take a fucking valium, Prescott," Connor growls.<br/>
<br/>
And that black muscle car is waiting for you in the lot. It swings in behind you and crawls along behind as you look for a parking place. Now the ice begins to flow into your blood. You don't recognize your persecutor. There are a lot of assholes and bullies who it could be, and you circle the student lot twice while trying to figure out how you might handle them. It depends a great deal, of course, on who it is. Finally, you park. Your pursuer dives into a nearby space the next row over. You watch carefully out the window to see who—<br/>
<br/>
Its door opens and a dark-haired figure gets out. Terror grips your anus briefly when he turns around, showing a hard face. Then you bark a relief of laughter when he jerks his chin at you in jaunty greeting.<br/>
<br/>
It's Joshua Call. Your minion.<br/>
<br/>
And that gives you another datum to consider in weighing Connor's proposal. You'd only be playing this person for one day or less, but during that day it would be much easier to talk to Call—if you needed to talk to him—in the guise of Karl Hennepin than as one of the Garners, or as yourself.</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113
author_id: seuzz
title: A Day in the Life You'd Be Shortly Vacating
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You don't have anything to say to Joshua Call—or to a minion that looks like him—so after returning his nod with one of your own, you turn back to Connor. Out of the corner of your eye you see Call watching you, but then he only shuts his car door and swaggers off toward the school.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck me," mutters Connor. "So that's your minion."<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty sweet, huh?" You can't help angling your shoulders proudly. Connor returns a sour smile. <br/>
<br/>
"So I'm trying to help you set up a meeting where we can make a replacement," he says, and the word "replacement" gives you a bit of a chill, since he's replaced Caleb at the moment. "Who should I be talking to?"<br/>
<br/>
"Eva or Jessica," you reply. You almost blurt out the names, and the way they come spilling out feels like a relief: there's no agony over picking an alter ego. "You'll see Eva second period."<br/>
<br/>
"Will I?"<br/>
<br/>
"Won't you?" You blink at Connor's question. "Doesn't Caleb have her second period?"<br/>
<br/>
His gaze goes distant. "Uh, yeah," he says slowly. "AP Calculus, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not the one pretending to be Caleb," you remind him.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, Calculus," he says with more confidence. "And right now we've got Walberg."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't sound so cheerful when you say it," you retort. "Caleb would never sound like—" You put on a brassy grin and pipe in a falsetto. "We've got Walberg!"<br/>
<br/>
Connor stares at you thoughtfully for a moment. Then, slowly, he flips you off. Caleb would have been a lot quicker, but it's not totally out of character for him to emphasize the gesture this way.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It seemingly says something about your school social life that you can return to Westside with no memory of the previous day and sink right back into it without missing a beat. Will it be that easy for Eva or Jessica or whoever you replace? When you step into her body, her social circle, her life, will you find a thing immensely more vibrant and interesting and exciting than your own? You find yourself wondering what your life looks like when someone is paying attention to it; and if you're not particularly alert to the academics in each class, you do study each one intently.<br/>
<br/>
First period is Sociology II with Mr. Walberg, a class that is tied for last place in your affections with every other class you have to suffer through. The teacher, with his gruff, bluff manner would be amusing—he has a very dry and sarcastic sense of humor—if he didn't aim his humor so much at students like you. The class itself is dominated by the AP clique: Geoff Mansfield, Martin Gardinhire, Brooke Galloway, Amanda Ferguson, and Kelsey Blankenship, all of them very smug and conscientious and paying keen attention to the teacher and everything he says. But there's a mix of other students in there too. Laurent Delacroix, the captain of the wrestling team, sits in front of Kelsey; in the back sits Jonas Martin, one of the thugs from the basketball team; and off to the side with one of the worse cases of stylish bed-heads in the school is Dean Stratton, slumbering with his face against the wall and snapping to wakefulness every fifteen minutes when Mr. Walberg barks at him. There are others in the room, of course, but these are the ones you know<br/>
<br/>
And all of them look like they lead a more interesting life than you: Studying and prepping for college; hustling with a sports team; or recovering from late-night, weeknight party scenes when they're not attending them.<br/>
<br/>
Second period is Film as Literature, a class you signed up for thinking it would be a fun blow-off; to your dismay it's pretty hard-core, with stiff lectures, weekly short papers, and movies that you're supposed to watch on your own time, not in class. Keith Tilley—your other close friend, but who has been pushed to the margins over the past few weeks since you got mixed up with that grimoire—is in here too, and you greet each other in friendly silence after shuffling into the room. If Walberg's class is dominated by the AP students, then this one is dominated by the creative clique: Tim Gerard, Andy Tackett, Kevin Winkler, Karl Hennepin, etc. These are the guys in sloppy clothes who write poetry and short stories, actually discuss the class material outside of school, and corner the teacher, Mr. Hawks, with questions and comments of their own. That doesn't mean—as you already know—that they are fanatical about attending, and today you notice that Hennepin and Winkler are absent. For that reason—and because the class attracted a lot of slackers like yourself looking for an easy A—the room is more often than not half empty because of people skipping.<br/>
<br/>
So Sociology II is a useless chore; this one is just useless, as you're not learning anything, not enjoying anything, and not even socializing with the students who are in it.<br/>
<br/>
The same can be said about third period—Career Planning—and worse could be said about it. You put it on your schedule as a desperate attempt to get your dad off your case about post-graduate plans, and justly are you now being punished for the maneuver. It's mostly filled with juniors and sophomores, but there are a few seniors; and glancing around you'd say that the older the students are in the class, the less impressive they are. The sophomores at least look well-scrubbed and slightly frightened of the future and their place in it; the juniors look resentful of it; the seniors look like they don't give a rat's ass. The most typical attendee is Kyle Kent, who slouches in the back with hair hanging over his eyes and a mouth hanging open in a drugged-up stupor. At least he's attending; most of the seniors—yourself excluded—seem to show up only once a week, if even that. That's lucky, since most of the seniors—like Nicholas Horner and Jeff Spencer are the sort of trench-dwellers who hang out with Joshua Call.<br/>
<br/>
Speaking of whom: You briefly catch sight of him peeking into the classroom; but you don't catch each other's eye, and when he sees that his friends are not in attendance today he disappears back into the hall.<br/>
<br/>
Three periods down, not one of which you'd regret swapping for someone else's schedule, when you go into fourth, where you hook up with fake-Caleb again. This is English IV, with Ms. Gladstone, and it would be better than the others if it weren't for the teacher, who seems to resent that she's been tasked with teaching the likes of you. It's got a pretty cool mix of students, though, and isn't dominated by AP prigs or pretentious twats. Laurent is in here, for instance, and if he doesn't have time for a guy like you, he'll give you a quick grin when he does deign to notice you. Erik Carstairs, one of the dope-smoking—and hence unthreatening—football players, is in here too.<br/>
<br/>
But it's the girls that make it an awesome class, for this is the class that the athletic girls attend. There's Kristy Suffolk of the basketball squad; Catherine Muskov of the track team; and—most heart-stoppingly desirable of all—Andrea Varnsworth of the swim team.<br/>
<br/>
But as awesome as they make it, the presence of these girls in their tight t-shirts and revealing shorts is also a rebuke to your unhappy love life. None of them, except Bethany Lewis, also of the swim team, ever speak to you and you haven't the nerve to speak to them. What's the point of being in their presence if you're not to get anything from it?<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"You set anything up with Eva?" you ask Connor after the bell has rung, signaling the start of your lunch break. "Do we need to ditch Tilley?"<br/>
<br/>
"I need <i>you</i> to talk to her," he grumbles back. "I can't get her to speak to me."<br/>
<br/>
"What, you need me to talk her into talking to you so you can talk me into her skin?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's all your fault from the other night, jumping her and everyone else while Caleb was sitting at her table. Oh, and I don't care if we eat with Keith. In fact, I'll keep him distracted while you go talk to Eva. We'll eat with Carson and James, I wanna hang out with them anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"You've really been missing Westside, haven't you?"<br/>
<br/>
You mean the question sarcastically, but from the expression on his face, you can tell he has been. But you do as he asked, and go off in search of one of the Garner sisters.<br/>
<br/>
There are two lunch periods built into the school schedule: Fourth Lunch (during fourth period) which half the school will have, and Fifth Lunch (during fifth period) which you've got. You don't know which lunch Eva or Jessica might have, but you go looking for them.<br/>
<br/>
You start in the cafeteria, dodging through the line that snakes around the walls of the thunderously loud cavern and then circling through the dining spaces. You don't see either of the Garner girls, and you don't see any faces of people you'd like to meet with. So you check outside.<br/>
<br/>
And there's Jessica, sitting in the quad between the gym, theater, and library.<br/>
<br/>
And—<i>Shit!</i>—she's talking to Lisa.<br/>
<br/>
It would be damned awkward joining them, and scarcely less awkward going up to briefly talk to Jessica without talking to your ex.<br/>
<br/>
To the girl who you'd like to think was your ex but who herself says was never your pre-ex.<br/>
<br/>
As you ponder the scene some movement catches your eye: Lin Pol and Yumi Saito, coming out of main building.<br/>
<br/>
Last year, at least, they were friends with Kelsey. Are they still her friends? Could you use one of them to get close to your target?</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131
author_id: seuzz
title: Conversations That No One Wants to Have
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You've already got a mask of Jessica; if you tried using Lin or Yumi as a face you'd have to make up a new one. So you steel yourself for a scene with Lisa and march over to where she and Jessica are sitting. <br/>
<br/>
They're sitting in a sunny patch of ground, cross-legged, facing each other with a spread of food on paper bags between them. Lisa is in a baby-blue dress—a color that complements her hair and skin while Jessica is in a tube top and distressed jeans. Lisa's expression is one of vague concern; Jessica's is unreadable behind her sunglasses. <br/>
<br/>
You've always felt more abashed around Jessica than around Eva, notwithstanding the similarity between the sisters. Maybe it's the way she wears her hair in a short bob instead of long curls like Eva: it gives her a sassier appearance and makes everything she says a little more cutting, a little more personal. At least, she seems cutting and personal when you're around, like her filter goes down to a lower setting when she sees you.<br/>
<br/>
Lisa spots you coming before Jessica does, and that look of vague concern clears up into an equally vague smile. "Hi Will," she says. Jessica shifts her head to look up at you, but her expression continues to be opaque.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey girls," you reply, and after giving Lisa a quick smile thenceforth avoid her eyes. You kneel beside them in a way that you hope conveys that you don't mean or want to intrude in on them long. "Hey Jessica, do you have some time to talk? Uh, later?"<br/>
<br/>
She must have just taken a bite from the apple in her hand, for she sucks on something before replying. "Like when, later, and for how long?" she says.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sure. It depends on— At least two minutes, but maybe twenty. Or more." Even though her eyes are hidden, you find you can't look directly at her. "I wanted to talk to you about Caleb."<br/>
<br/>
"What about him?"<br/>
<br/>
"About him and Eva."<br/>
<br/>
She sucks on that piece of apple a little more, chews it slowly, swallows. "Yeah, okay. After school? Library?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Thanks. It won't be for very long," you blurt out. "I've got to be home by— I've got something I have to do, so I won't take up much of your time."<br/>
<br/>
Jessica just nods curtly, and you feel that you've been dismissed. Slowly you rise again and, still avoiding Lisa's face, walk awkwardly off. You don't know what's worse—the conviction that they have only a few words to spare for you behind your back, or that those few words are almost certainly completely negative.<br/>
<br/>
<i>I won't take up much of your time,</i> you told Jessica. But if it goes off right, you'll be taking up as much as a day of her time.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You go looking for Connor afterward, and find him sitting with Carson and James and Jenny and Paul, in the company of Keith. He looks very relaxed, splayed out next to them, and nods at you when you drop down with them to rapidly gobble your lunch. He's talking in a much lazier and more confident way than Caleb is wont to, and Carson and James seem to respond to it, for they reply in similarly lazy and confident tones. The scene leaves you feeling out of place, as though you've crashed in on a party to which you weren't invited and to which you don't belong. Keith seems to feel the same way, because he slouches next to you with his mouth hanging open in a querulous stare when he's not stuffing it with a baloney sandwich. You fidget all through the meal, and react with muted, one-word answers when one of the others pokes you with a question or comment. The sense of being an uninvited, junior member of this league of geeks is only accented when the bell rings, and the guy who looks like Caleb gets slowly to his feet, kicks you lightly in the knee, and tells you to trot along with him. "You talk to anyone?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, Jessica." You tell him of the appointment.<br/>
<br/>
He frowns. "You've got a four o'clock curfew."<br/>
<br/>
"Like I don't know that."<br/>
<br/>
"And I don't know how we can do anything in the library. You should have asked her out for coffee."<br/>
<br/>
"I have a curfew," you remind him.<br/>
<br/>
"We could have worked around that. We've got masks, and partners outside of school." He glances around with a worried expression. "Well, I'll think about it, figure something out. Keep your phone on, and if I can't get something set up, try to work it so Eva or Jessica will talk to me. To Caleb, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
You part for your separate sixth period classes. Only three more hours to go, and if you were hyper-aware of your surroundings during the morning, during the afternoon you are so distracted and anxious that you hardly know where you are for the balance of the school day.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You get a text near the end of last period—Astronomy—and peep at it furtively when you have a moment: It's from Connor, telling you to get Jessica out to the parking lot, to your truck, when classes let out. At first you're inclined to argue—you set it up for the library, dammit!—but then reflect that Jessica is more likely to go with you if she thinks you're on your way out the door and so won't be wasting her time. It's a bitter thought: another reminder that not many people want to waste their time with you. You'd pass on the message to her immediately, but you don't have her cell number, and you don't have her schedule. So you go to the library to wait.<br/>
<br/>
And you wait and you wait and have lots of time to reflect on what a bad spot the library would be for getting a mask onto a person. It was hard enough at the municipal library, where you had hidden corners and private nooks for doing an ambush. But the school library is an open floor filled with tables and chairs all of which are visible to each other, and many of which are filled with people trying to do some last minute studying or gathering for post-school socializing.<br/>
<br/>
You loiter near the front, checking the time. You don't have a lot of leeway, and you wish you knew what Connor had planned, for then you could have something solid to worry about. Instead, you can only worry about all the ways that things could go wrong because you don't know what you're supposed to do except maneuver Jessica out to your truck. Oh well, at least the time will give you an excuse to lead her out there, since you will have to be taking off soon.<br/>
<br/>
But where is she? Connor texts, asking where you are, and you have to text back <i>Waiting for jess.</i> That gets no reply. You're about to text asking where he is and what he's doing when the door finally flies open and Jessica hurries in. "Hey Will," she says brusquely. "Can we make this fast? I have to—"<br/>
<br/>
"I have to be somewhere too," you blurt out. "Walk with me to my truck?"<br/>
<br/>
She thinks a moment, then nods. You fall into a quick pace down the hallway leading out past the gym and to the parking lot. "So what do you need to ask me about Caleb?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is Eva pissed at him or something?"<br/>
<br/>
She sighs deeply. "Just tell him to leave her alone."<br/>
<br/>
"Is he bothering her?"<br/>
<br/>
She doesn't answer for a moment, not until you've passed a cluster of other students and are in the clear again. "You know he had that study session with her last week, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I might've heard something about that."<br/>
<br/>
"What did you hear?"<br/>
<br/>
"He told me he had a study session with her."<br/>
<br/>
"And that's all?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah."<br/>
<br/>
She says nothing, and you say nothing either until you're in the parking lot. "Did Caleb make a pass at your sister or something?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Bad question, for she stops in her tracks. "Do you think he would've?" she bluntly asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Walk with me to my truck," you say, and she follows. "I don't picture Caleb as the kind to make a clumsy pass," you continue. "But he has the impression that Eva is pissed at him, and he wants to know why."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, ask him what happened that night, and see what he says."<br/>
<br/>
"What am I supposed to hear him say?"<br/>
<br/>
"See if he mentions Geoff showing up while we were there."<br/>
<br/>
"Geoff? Mansfield?" Your heart pounds hard, twice. This is the first confirmation you've gotten that your ambush has set off ripples in the Garners' group.<br/>
<br/>
"Just see if he tells you anything about Geoff and anything that happened with him."<br/>
<br/>
"So what am I supposed to tell him about Eva?"<br/>
<br/>
You've reached your truck by this point, and can't help glancing around nervously. There is a screen of cars on either side of it, but you seen no sign of Connor, either in his own face or in Caleb's. You lean against the side of your truck, and the tension almost makes you sick.<br/>
<br/>
Jessica sighs impatiently. "There was a weird scene with Geoff, and Caleb should have seen it, but he's acting like he didn't. Which is an asshole thing for him to do if he saw it. So I don't want you to be disloyal to him or anything, but—"<br/>
<br/>
While she's talking you hear a shuffling and scraping nearby, but keep your eye concentrated on Jessica. And—you know not how—you keep your face in neutral when Caleb's face looms up behind her, and reaches around to smother her with a mask.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311
author_id: seuzz
title: Into the Girl You Go
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Caleb—or someone who looks like him—smothers Jessica under a mask. You were expecting something like this to happen, and at the same time you were totally not expecting it. So you're paralyzed with surprise as Jessica sinks back against her assailant. "Little help here?" he says as he sinks beneath her.<br/>
<br/>
You lurch forward and fumble with your hands, but you can't find a spot to grab onto; and, anyway, you have a well-brought-up boy's sense of decorum about clutching at girls. With an "Oof," Caleb staggers and drops to the ground with Jessica atop him.<br/>
<br/>
"What did you do?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"You saw what I did. Moron. Get her off me. Get her feet." You grasp Jessica by her ankles and help him shift her onto the ground. He grasps the handle to the truck door. "Keys, man."<br/>
<br/>
"How is this supposed to work?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just shut up and help me get her in your truck before someone comes along."<br/>
<br/>
It takes almost a full minute, with you scampering around to the passenger side to pull her into the cab from one side while Caleb pushes her in from the other. Then he hauls you over to another car—a sedan that you recognize as Connor's—and shoves you into it. "I need you to finish this up," he says, and pushes a Tupperware container at you. "Yank off or clip off a bit of your hair and hand it here.<br/>
<br/>
It takes several seconds before your hands and fingers organize themselves to work. You twitch some hair out of the side of your head and hand it back to him. He's dug out the book and a mask.<br/>
<br/>
"This is you," he says as he lays the mask onto the book."We're going to put it onto Jessica, but we have to finish it up first." He drops the hair into the interior of the mask and sets it on fire with a lighter. There's a small flash and an acrid, burning smell. "There," he says as he hands you the mask. "A minion to go."<br/>
<br/>
"Where'd you get this stuff? Connor?" you guardedly ask. "You didn't bring it this morning, did you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I skipped last period, got Justin to pick me up so I could get the stuff together for this meeting. Perfect, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Perfectly fucked up. You grabbed Jessica in the parking lot while I was talking to her. How are we gonna set it up afterward so she doesn't notice she lost a day?"<br/>
<br/>
"We'll worry about it on the other end. It's not like you're ruining a friendship."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're not exactly friends with her."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want her hating me!"<br/>
<br/>
"We'll worry about it later. For now you need to get undressed," he says as he opens the car door.<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck for?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because Jessica Garner dresses better than you." He gets out and slams the door shut.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh yeah.</i> You're going to—<br/>
<br/>
You hiccup.<br/>
<br/>
You're going to be putting on her clothes after putting on a copy of her body. You push off your shoes, tweak off your socks, pull down your pants and underwear, and rip off your shirt. People are passing by in the parking lot, and though they're not paying attention to you, you still duck down to hide.<br/>
<br/>
You're half huddled in the foot well of the car when there's a tap at the window. You roll it down, and Caleb hands you a mask through it. "Have fun, Jessica," he says with a faint leer.<br/>
<br/>
Your heart thumps to life rapidly in your chest. You look over at your truck, and see a head bobbing up and down in the cab, and arms working. "What's going on over there?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's just Will Prescott. He woke up inside a girl's clothes and is trying to get out of them. Hurry up, you'll need to give the minion some orders before leaving."<br/>
<br/>
So, after drawing a ragged breath, you wedge yourself down into the foot well so you won't hurt yourself when you pass out, and push the mask onto your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You wake with a feeling of cramp. It's like someone has lifted a hood of darkness from over your head, but has left you boxed in somewhere else. You turn your head with a glare—<br/>
<br/>
And bang your head against something. "Ow," you mouth, and go to touch your head where you banged but find your arm is wedged in between your body and—<br/>
<br/>
More gingerly you look around again. You're inside a car. In the foot well, it looks like, and—<br/>
<br/>
"Ohhhhh!" A queer sense of deja vu filters up from the back of your neck and into the floor of your brain pan. It fills up the interior of your cranium, and your head lolls with dizziness.<br/>
<br/>
<i>You were out in the parking lot, talking to Will Prescott. He was being a pest, as usual—</i><br/>
<br/>
Is it the dizziness or that alien, mortifying thought that causes you feel nauseated? You close your eyes and try to center. You are wearing a mask of Jessica Garner, which means you've got Jessica Garner's memories, including her memories—complete with emotions—of the talk you were having with her just a few minutes ago. She was impatient because she needed to get back to—<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit.</i> You snap your eyes open. You've got your own places to be.<br/>
<br/>
You struggle out of the foot well and onto the seat. There are some clothes here. Your clothes. No time to have fun feeling up this new body. You've got to get dressed.<br/>
<br/>
But in dressing you do feel yourself up, at least a little, at least in passing. You get a firm handful of your large, firm breasts—so warm and playful the slang word "puppies" might have been invented specifically for Jessica's pair—as you tuck them into a bra. You smooth and rub your torso as you pull the tube top on. You suck in a sharp breath as you pull the panties up over your crotch, and the skin of your legs tingles as you tug the jeans on. No socks to worry at, just ratty, comfortable canvas sneakers that you slide your feet into and pull the laces tight.<br/>
<br/>
Jewelry? Phone? By your side. You pull the necklace around your throat and fiddle with the catch at the back, but it won't go on, and with a cat-like hiss you shove it into your pocket. The thin bracelets go on easily enough, however, but you hiss again when you check yourself out using the phone as a mirror. A blotchy, distempered, angry face glares back at you. You'll have to stop in the bathroom before you show yourself to your siblings.<br/>
<br/>
A motion catches your eye: Caleb, crooking a finger at you. He's by a white truck. Your truck. Will Prescott's truck. You can see the back of Will's head in the cab. You gulp and get out of the car, and walk quickly over.<br/>
<br/>
"Here's your bag," Caleb says, handing you your—Jessica's—compact orange backpack; you sling it over one shoulder. "And here's your minion." He indicates a pale Will Prescott.<br/>
<br/>
His eyes are crinkled up, and his lip is twisted up in a fearful curl. For a moment you're at a loss as to what to say to him. Then: "Just go home and do what you'd normally do," you tell him. "Try not to get in trouble."<br/>
<br/>
"Too late," he says. "I'm going to miss my curfew."<br/>
<br/>
"Then get going. I'm going to be late too." You step back as he rolls up the window and starts the truck.<br/>
<br/>
"I put the mask for Kelsey in your bag," Caleb says. "You know how to get in touch if you need something?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can call Caleb's number." <i>Not that I want to,</i> the sour thought forms. Jessica is as pissed at Caleb as her sister is. "I don't know how soon I can get to her."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, don't fuck things up," Caleb says. "Jessica's perfectly safe where she is, so there's no real deadline. We just don't want her missing too much."<br/>
<br/>
He lays his hands lightly on your shoulders. Violently you wriggle free, and he frowns. "Sorry," you mutter. "Instinct taking over, that's all."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess that's good," he says. "You don't want anyone thinking you're acting weird." But still he looks concerned.<br/>
<br/>
"I gotta go," you say, and take a step back. Then you turn around and return to the school. It's like when you walked away from Jessica and Lisa at lunch. Only now the feeling of awkwardness comes from sensing your friend's eyes on your back. Probably on your ass.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You could use the girls' locker room to patch yourself back together, but that risks running into Chelsea Cooper, and—<br/>
<br/>
Ugh. A memory of this morning's cheerleader practice flashes into your head. It's disorienting, getting hammered from two sides by Jessica's anger at it and your own native excitement at thinking of the changing room and what else was going on in there. You tell yourself you need to focus, but it's mostly Jessica's own steely determination that keeps you marching to where you need to go: the girls' restroom in F wing.<br/>
<br/>
You need to meet up with Eva and Marc, so you can't dawdle. Marc doesn't care if you're delayed—he's got his stupid friends to talk to—but Eva wants to get home, and she was grouchy when you—when Jessica—said she had to talk to someone first. Jessica didn't even say it was you: she knew Eva would react badly to your name.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Cunt.</i><br/>
<br/>
You pause just inside the bathroom door. Kelsey has tennis practice after school. Maybe you should tell Eva and Marc to head home, and try to intercept Kelsey after tennis. That might bring things to a quick head.<br/>
<br/>
Or—<br/>
<br/>
Your hand goes to your bosom.<br/>
<br/>
You could stretch out the fun a little longer.</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112
author_id: seuzz
title: Garner Gossip
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You need to catch Kelsey alone, and that most likely means setting up an appointment with her: She is so organized and so self-important that she practically needs an executive secretary to help her run her life.<br/>
<br/>
A  hard wave of resentment inundates you. <i>Ever since those fucked up cheerleader tryouts—</i> But that's one of Jessica's thoughts. You push open the door to the restroom: You'll have time to review the Garners' vexed relationship with Kelsey Blankenship while fixing up your face.<br/>
<br/>
The girls' bathroom smells nicer than the boys', but isn't much different. It's empty, which is a relief, for you want to be alone. You set the bag on the edge of the sink, unzip it, dig past the books and the blank mask—you should bury that more deeply so no one finds it—to the little makeup kit. Then you look at yourself in the mirror.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Okay, not as bad as you thought.</i> Those worry lines will go away if you just relax. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, and force the muscles in your face to unclench. You roll your neck and shoulder. <i>I am Jessica Garner,</i> you chant to yourself, <i>and I am a very lucky girl. I'm going to go home and I'm going to see my parents and I'm going to have a fun, relaxing time with my sister and my iPhone while I do my homework and listen to music and—</i><br/>
<br/>
In that much, at least, there's not a lot of difference between your life and Jessica's. You're only sure you'll get a lot more texts between now and when you go to bed.<br/>
<br/>
Speaking of texts—<br/>
<br/>
Your hand goes instinctively to the phone, to check if any new ones have come in, but you pull it back and return to the mirror. Your face is much clearer, and the blotches have retreated, but you cover them over with a little more makeup. The mascara is in good shape. You put the necklace on, turning the clasp to your throat so you can watch yourself work it in the mirror, and now it goes together easily; you turn it right side around and step back to gauge the effect. <i>Very nice. A present from an aunt on your sixteenth birthday.</i> Eva got one with a purple stone instead of a blue one; bastard-Marc got a wad of cash.<br/>
<br/>
You turn your head this way and that, and pull out a hair brush to straighten out some of the curls. Your hair is naturally very curly, just like your siblings'. Marc keeps his so short that no curls show; Eva lets it go long in ringlets; you keep it just long enough that curls will form, and you curl them more tightly with a permanent so as to give you a sassy, Italianate look. Your green eyes are very bright, and your lips settle into a quizzical smile when you're done. Now if you could only manage to run into Alec Brown in the hallway—<br/>
<br/>
You flinch as a spasm of lust wrenches your innards. You close your eyes and suck down a deep breath. Jessica has it bad for him. Well, that's none of your business, and it's not like you'll be here long enough to run any risks. Stay away from any party scenes and don't get hammered like you did last Friday when you—<br/>
<br/>
You pause with your hand on the door. <i>Oh, Jesus. You really fucked things up for Hannah, didn't you?</i> Guilt seeps out of the lining of your stomach as you open the door and set off to find Marc and Eva.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The traditional daily game of rock-paper-scissors puts Eva in the back seat, you in the front passenger seat, and Marc in the driver's seat for the ride home. Your idiot brother doesn't bother to hide his satisfaction at getting to man the steering wheel, and splays arms and legs while grinning. You get revenge by pulling up music you know he hates. But he only sniggers and nods along to the beat.<br/>
<br/>
His cheer seems inversely proportional to Eva's grumpiness. She's huddled in the back with her phone. She's not mad at you—at Jessica—just as Marc isn't pleased with you. But it's your fault that they are both in this state.<br/>
<br/>
Eva, like Jessica, is crossways with Geoff Mansfield, and is crossways with most of his friends too, which means she is crossways with many of the people that she hangs out with and considers to be friends. That would be Brooke Galloway and Rachel Burton and Deanna Showalter among the girls, and Martin Gardinhire, Anthony Kirk and Ricky Golia among the guys. Kelsey and Amanda Ferguson, curiously, are keeping out of it, and Lisa is also trying to keep neutral, but it's put a lot of stress on everyone. It all has to do, of course, with that very weird assault that Geoff made against the girls and against Marc and  his date at the municipal library last week. The Garners want to know what the hell he was doing, naturally; and, equally naturally, Geoff has disclaimed any knowledge of what they're talking about. The Garners' conviction that he did something, and is guiltily foreswearing any knowledge of it, has left them furious with him; and his vociferous denials—backed, it must be admitted, with testimony from Gardinhire that he and Mansfield were together that night—have split the normally tight-knit AP group.<br/>
<br/>
That's not what you were intending when you used Mansfield's face to stage that attack: You thought it would get him in Dutch with the Garners, but you didn't foresee that he'd have the rest of his friends on his side, putting the Garners in the wrong. Not that you have a lot of love for Eva and Jessica, but you do like them better than Mansfield, and wish that your raid hadn't gone awry that way.<br/>
<br/>
The crisis has had an odder effect on Marc. Like his sisters, he hangs around with the AP crowd; unlike them, he has another set of friends he can fall back on, and after swatting Mansfield around—<br/>
<br/>
Your lips twitch involuntarily at the memory, and you hide the smile by looking out the window.<br/>
<br/>
Jessica was utterly mortified when she heard, but it's the one delightful bit you can find in the mess. The day after the affair at the library, Marc went looking for Geoff, cornered  him, demanded an explanation, threatened him when he didn't get it, and after his sisters also started meeting resistance from the AP crowd Marc hustled Geoff out behind the school and hit him a couple of times, putting him in the dirt. That's left Marc <i>persona non grata</i> with everyone else in that cluster—including with Kelsey and Amanda and Lisa—but he's reacted to his banishment with a kind of fey cheer. He's been hanging out more with his soccer teammates, and with some of the football players and wrestlers. That's alright, you suppose, but Jessica knows her brother well enough to recognize the dangerous light in his eye, and the brittleness in the grin that he's been constantly wearing since the day he knocked the snot out of Geoff Mansfield—<br/>
<br/>
That grin is in place as he swings around now to face you. "We still on for tomorrow night?" He's stopped at a light, so he glances back at Eva.<br/>
<br/>
You glance back too, but she doesn't raise her head, so you answer on her behalf. "Sure, as long as you're still good for the money."<br/>
<br/>
"Give it to you when we get home. Oh, have you decided who we're going to run into at the show?" He snickers.<br/>
<br/>
Again, you glance back at Eva; she is still concentrating on her phone. "Kelsey and Anthony," you say. There's been no sisterly consultation, but Eva doesn't gainsay you. You hope she heard.<br/>
<br/>
"Perfect," says Marc, and shifts in his seat in a manner that you, as a guy, recognize is meant to accommodate a swelling erection. "How about we make the dinner and movie thing a regular outing, but for real? I'll keep paying for them."<br/>
<br/>
"That'd be nice, I guess," you say. You're very tentative—<br/>
<br/>
For Eva has something to say. "You two can have a brother-sister night out as often as you want. Just cover for me while <i>I</i> go out and get fucking wasted at some—" Her voice breaks, and she breaks off.<br/>
<br/>
That's the other crisis afflicting her that you're responsible for. No one says anything the rest of the drive back.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The Garners live in the western part of town, not far from the river. Their mom is a realtor and their dad a home-builder, so there's enough money for a two-story, three-bedroom house, plus some attachments You get out of the car at the same time as Marc, but you let him swagger on into the house while you hang back to wait for Eva. When she doesn't emerge from the minivan, you put your head in. "If you want me to kick his balls through a goalpost, I will."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't. Want. Anything," she snaps, and with a spasm of fury shoves her phone away and struggles out of her seat out of the back seat. But she's not pissed at you, particularly, so she lets you fall in beside her as she heads into the house. "Except for everyone to shut the fuck up.<br/>
<br/>
You'd like to put your arm around her in a sisterly way—or more—but you keep your hands to yourself. "Who were texting with?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hannah."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Ah. The third person whose life you've wrecked.</i> No wonder Eva was keeping to herself in the back seat.<br/>
<br/>
You're only supposed to be in this body long enough to get a copy of Kelsey Blankenship into a mask. But there's a chance to do that tomorrow. Maybe you should take some extra time here to repair some of the damage you've done.</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121
author_id: seuzz
title: More Complicated that Calculus
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Jessica Garner's afternoon and evening conform to a fairly regular routine, one that you have only slightly delayed with your ambush. It starts with you spending ninety minutes on homework: reading for AP World History and exercises for AP German IV. That is followed by thirty minutes of free time during which you can check social sites and text messages. These are a little thin on the ground recently, thanks to the split in the AP group, but you field a couple of messages from Yumi Saito complaining about Chelsea Cooper, and one from Adrian Semple asking a dumbass question about the last meeting of the Environmental Club (to which you both belong). <br/>
<br/>
There are more interesting things over on Instagram, where Catherine Muskov has been posting pictures of herself and select friends at various Saratoga Falls landmarks. You intently study them, both the ones that are new to Jessica and the older ones. There's Catherine and Kristy Suffolk at the entrance to Suffolk Wilderness. (No relation, despite teasing.) There's Catherine and Almida Jones at the Railroad Museum in the old Appalachian &amp; Pacific train depot. There's Catherine and her boyfriend, Michael Allen, in front of Polk Elementary. Catherine has said that there's a pun or an allusion behind each photograph—something that connects her and the person and the location—but you're not trying to penetrate those meanings. You—Will Prescott—are more taken with Catherine's fresh-faced, natural beauty and open countenance; Jessica feels a burning finger of envy. <i>Why hasn't she asked you to pose in any of the pictures?</i> But you leave likes on all the recent ones anyway.<br/>
<br/>
But Jessica has her own Instagram presence. She doesn't update it very regularly, but—<br/>
<br/>
On an impulse you take out your phone and take a selfie A couple, actually, until you get one you really like. You quickly get it online and spend a few minutes admiring it. That's you behind that pert, enigmatic smile and gleaming eyes. <i>I'm really Jessica Garner,</i> you think again, and another thrill goes through you.<br/>
<br/>
But then it's 5:30, time for Eva to practice on the viola and for you to do daily aerobics in the exercise room. You shut out the sound of your sister's warbling bow with ear buds and some ironically iconic 80s rock. <i>Wow, it really is amazing having a strong and supple body that's in decent physical shape.</i> The workout leaves you drained and energized simultaneously. Tingly. You take a quick shower and change into relaxed flannel shorts and a t-shirt in time for dinner.<br/>
<br/>
As with most evening meals in the busy but well-to-do Garner house, this one is delivered from a restaurant: Sans Serif, in this case. It's a rich and savory chicken pot pie, and instinctively you limit your portions. Martin Garner—the paterfamilias—who is developing an apple-shaped belly, noticeably does not, and enjoys the meal with a boisterous good humor. So does Marc.<br/>
<br/>
At least until he has to kick you in the foot a third time and give you a quick, meaningful smile.<br/>
<br/>
"We're talking about going to see a movie tomorrow night," you announce.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah, which one?" asks Mr. Garner genially.<br/>
<br/>
"<i>The Cabin in the Snow.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Which one is that?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's starting tomorrow. It's about these four exchange students in Iceland who rent an old farmhouse for a weekend, but there's a ghost and it—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, a spooky movie!" Mr. Garner exclaims.<br/>
<br/>
Cynthia Garner shudders. "You couldn't get me in to see one of those," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"I got you into plenty when we were dating." Mr. Garner winks at you. "That's where you kids came from. So who are you seeing it with?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just the three of us," you say, and are by now conscious of the way Marc and Eva are letting you carry the burden of the conversation. "You know, kids' night out."<br/>
<br/>
"For a scary movie? That's a waste. You're supposed to see it with someone you're dating, so you can hug each other tight during the scary parts."<br/>
<br/>
You have no answer to that. The three Garner kids had consciously chosen <i>The Cabin in the Snow</i> as a movie that their parents would not want to turn into a family outing. It hadn't occurred to anyone that it might be an odd choice for brother and sisters to go see.<br/>
<br/>
Marc comes to your rescue. "We're going to try asking some people from school along. We just got the idea this afternoon."<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds great," says Mr. Garner. "You three going to try eating out before the show?"<br/>
<br/>
"What are we having for dinner tomorrow?" Marc asks cautiously. There follows a not-very-interesting discussion of places that dinner might be delivered from, concluding in a temporizing "We'll decide tomorrow" from Marc.<br/>
<br/>
That should be the end of it, but Marc follows you and Eva upstairs immediately after dinner. "Thanks for helping out down there with the movie plans," he tells your sister. "You could have made it look like it was something you wanted to do."<br/>
<br/>
"Bite me," Eva retorts.<br/>
<br/>
Marc snorts, and jostles past you to go downstairs again.<br/>
<br/>
The pressure from Jessica's personality is irresistible, and you push the door closed after entering the room that the sisters share. Eva is on her bed, knees up to her chin, glaring furiously at the wall. "What are you going to do tomorrow night?" you ask her. She shrugs. "We could go off together, just you and me. We shouldn't let the opportunity go to waste."<br/>
<br/>
"What opportunity?"<br/>
<br/>
"A night out. Friday night out."<br/>
<br/>
"With who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe you could call Jeremy?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to call him," she says acidly.<br/>
<br/>
"Then call Cindy. See if she wants to go out. Her and Seth and you and— Well, you could suggest you and me to make it a foursome, let her make the inference that she should call Jeremy and prod him into calling you."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes fall. "What's the use?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, don't say 'no' if someone asks you." <br/>
<br/>
She looks up, and you hold each other's gaze. She knows exactly what you're saying without saying it: You can set things up so she goes on a double-date with Jeremy Richards in the company of Seth Javits and Cindy Vredenburg. "We'll talk about it tomorrow," you tell her when she says nothing, and still she says nothing, so you pick up your books and go downstairs, to finish your homework while giving her some privacy. But you can't concentrate on it for thinking about the problems you've caused Eva and Marc.<br/>
<br/>
Marc's problem—aside from the way he's gotten into fights with many of his friends—is that he's acting like a fool over Hannah. As you might have anticipated, the antics of "Hannah Westrick" at the Warehouse did not go unnoticed—or undocumented. Gossip about the night began to circulate the very next day, and when Hannah denied she had been at the Warehouse that night, the photos started going up on social media sites. Particularly unflattering were the ones of her, with her top off, gnawing the faces of some of the musicians.<br/>
<br/>
Marc instantly stopped courting her, even though his sisters told him that if he didn't like that kind of thing in a girl he liked, he should go out with her and keep her out of that kind of trouble. But his stupid, pig-headed pride is in the way for some reason. Jessica and Eva have been fielding calls from Hannah asking them for help in fighting the gossip and getting Marc back onto her side.<br/>
<br/>
These requests are especially poignant given that Eva was also sighted at the Warehouse that evening. Fortunately there were no photographs showing her clearly—those purportedly of her are too blurry and smeared or dark to make out the figure clearly—and she has a quasi-alibi, as she was out on a date with a Jeremy Richards, that night.<br/>
<br/>
Or so she and Jeremy claim. Karl Hennepin says she was with Hannah when they all went out to the Warehouse.<br/>
<br/>
Jessica doesn't disbelieve her sister, and is really pissed off at Hennepin now. Marc at least pretends to believe Eva, and is taking her side in all the arguments about the night. But that isn't stopping him from trying to leverage his support into an advantage for himself.<br/>
<br/>
That's what this "movie night" is all about: paying him back for supporting her alibi with one for him. The triplets are supposedly going to a movie while in fact Marc takes off with some of his guy friends for some kind of guy thing; meanwhile, the two girls will pretend that they all three went to a movie, then accidentally met some school friends and wound up spending the whole night out.<br/>
<br/>
But as you sit down to Jessica's calculus homework—whose complexity is nothing on what's been going on thanks to your duplicates showing up—you're pondering turning that movie night to another advantage. While Marc is out with his friends, if you can get Eva to go out with Jeremy and a few others, you can dash over to Kelsey's and get that mask made. It should be easy to get Eva and Jeremy together; you just have to convince Cindy Vredenburg that—<br/>
<br/>
A text pops up. <i>Fuck.</i> It's Connor, asking for a status update. You text back that nothing can be done until tomorrow night. That leads to series of texts that climaxes in a phone call—<i>sotto voce</i> on your end. "I knew I shouldn't have given you this job," Connor fumes. "You're going to fuck things up. Just get the—"<br/>
<br/>
"They're already fucked up! Every time we use a mask we fuck things up for someone."<br/>
<br/>
"So get this last mask and get out of there!"<br/>
<br/>
But you have a sudden flash of inspiration.</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211
author_id: seuzz
title: Short Plans Turn Long
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Listen," you interrupt Connor. "If you're so hot to get a mask onto Kelsey, how about you come out with me tomorrow and take over her life for the weekend?"<br/>
<br/>
That elicits a long pause, and when he speaks again his tone is angry. "If you're not going to be any help—"<br/>
<br/>
"I am trying to help out. I've been thinking—" <br/>
<br/>
But you haven't. You're totally improvising.<br/>
<br/>
"—and we've already fucked things up with Jessica, a lot more than we fucked them up with Hannah and with Geoff. There's no way we can put Jessica back in circulation without her noticing that something crazy happened. So we can go little or we can go big. Let me play her for the whole weekend, and we'll put her back out early next week. With such a huge blank space in her life she won't be able to say anything without making people think she's crazy.<br/>
<br/>
"And we'll do the same thing with Kelsey, " you continue over Connor's own attempted interruption. "If I hit Kelsey with a mask tomorrow night, she'll remember it was Jessica who did it and then there'll be more hell for Jessica to pay after that. But if you replace Kelsey for the whole weekend, then when she wakes up she'll have this massive blank spot and then she won't have Jessica to blame. She'll hear from her friends that she was totally normal all weekend and was doing stuff with them and partying and everything, and her seeing Jessica just before it all happened will only be part of one big mystery instead of being one small mystery that she can rip into with her teeth. We'll get a mask of Kelsey," you say when Connor doesn't immediately reply, "and Jessica won't get the blame. Or not too much of it."<br/>
<br/>
"What will they say when they start comparing notes and realize they all had these blank spots?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why would they? Why won't they keep their mouths shut when they realize that everyone thinks they were acting totally normal during that blank spot? Would you tell anyone if you had a massive amnesiac episode, but everyone was acting like you didn't do anything crazy?"<br/>
<br/>
"I might if I thought someone had—" Connor trails off. "When are you going to see Kelsey?"<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't made plans yet, but I'm going to try to get rid of Eva for tomorrow night. Marc's already running off somewhere with some of his stupid friends. I think I can get to Kelsey, she and Jessica are old friends. Jessica's on the cheerleader squad because of Kelsey." Some of Jessica's bile wells up in the back of your throat. "We could hang out all weekend, get in some trouble. Kelsey's got that big house, and if we wanted to have that slumber party I screwed up last weekend we could do it at—"<br/>
<br/>
Connor groans. "Oh, you sure know how to fucking tempt a guy. You're sure you can't get to Kelsey tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
"Positive, and school's too crowded tomorrow. You have to let me do it tomorrow evening."<br/>
<br/>
"Let me talk to the other guys. I'll let you know what they say about maybe doing something tomorrow night." He hangs up.<br/>
<br/>
You hope no one discovers a problem with what you've proposed. You've got yourself thoroughly excited by the prospect of a weekend playing Jessica Garner, with your friends playing some of her friends. But despite that excitement you are able to get the rest of the homework done in short order, maybe because for you the act of writing things out in Jessica's neat and crisp handwriting is a moment-by-moment reminder of where you are and what you're doing. Before long you're in a slight sweat and flush, and your free hand is pressed tightly between your thighs and up against—<br/>
<br/>
It aches. Your pussy aches.<br/>
<br/>
With that hand still anchored firmly between your legs you text Cindy Vredenburg to ask what she's doing tomorrow night. Her reply comes ten minutes later, as you're finishing up the homework set: <i>Thing w/seth maybe.</i> You don't hesitate to call her directly after that. Your pitch is direct: She should go on a date with Seth, but invite Jeremy (who is her boyfriend's best friend) along. He'll need a date too: Cindy should suggest he ask Eva. Cindy perceives your intent and quickly agrees; she'll tell you in the morning if it'll work. <br/>
<br/>
That done, you go back upstairs. "If you don't need the bathroom, I'm going to be in the tub," you tell Eva. When she shrugs, you add, "I've been a good sister and got a lot done," but don't amplify.<br/>
<br/>
You run a tub of hot water, fill it with the oils that Jessica likes, and slowly, deliciously disrobe and sink into it. The water is hot and silky and raises goose bumps all over. After you are comfortably relaxed you gently explore all over: hips and the sides and insides of your legs; stomach. You delay the moment when you grasp and noodle around with your breasts until you've satiated yourself with all the more vanilla bits; and when you've raised your core temperature by playing upstairs you put fingers down to the lower places, where you work and knead hot water deep into the crevices to heart-swelling effect. Only the knowledge that there may be people passing nearby keeps you from forcing matters to a conclusion; but you are gnawing hard on your fist before you reluctantly bring your bath to an end.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Friday morning, first period, ought to be an hour of huge excitement for you: Cheerleader practice, prefaced and concluded by the squad changing out in the girls' locker room. But you've got Jessica's own feelings to dampen your enthusiasm. She knows what practice is like, and she never looks forward to it. "We should kill Kelsey the next chance we get," you mutter to Eva as you approach the gym door. (Marc, in the passenger side, leaped out before it had even stopped moving and ran off to meet some friends.)<br/>
<br/>
"What's got your panties in a twist?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just the way she got us stuck in here."<br/>
<br/>
Eva grunts, recognizing your allusion to the disastrous cheerleader tryouts just before classes started. Kelsey, who was on the squad her sophomore and junior years, and had been gunning hard for the captain's position, had pressured Eva and Jessica into trying out  so they could vote for her for the captaincy. But Kelsey had been outmaneuvered by Chelsea Cooper—<br/>
<br/>
—who even now is sailing in from the other direction with her best friend Maria Vasquez in tow. She reaches the gym door just before you do, and doesn't spare so much as a glance in your direction as she goes in.<br/>
<br/>
And when Kelsey saw that Chelsea had blocked her from an easy, first-ballot victory, Kelsey had quit in a snit, leaving Jessica and Eva to struggle along while Chelsea runs the squad with a sharp whip and sharper tongue.<br/>
<br/>
You and Eva enter the gym, and despite your worries about what might happen at practice, your excitement quickens. Cindy Vredenburg is leaning against the wall next to the entrance to the boys' locker room, a sucker in her mouth, and she's looking at you with no kind of expression like she ever directed at Will Prescott. You nudge Eva. "Catch up with you a minute." She gives you a quick, hopeful look before following Chelsea into the girls' changing room. You and she haven't spoken since last night, and certainly won't speak about it overtly, but her glance conveys her hope: Cindy will be bringing news about a double date.<br/>
<br/>
"So hey you," you say to Cindy, and relish both the ease with which you speak and the friendly face the stuck-up Cindy has turned to you. "What are you and Seth doing tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing, unfortunately," she says. "He's got plans with some guys, including your brother."<br/>
<br/>
"No! What are they doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hasn't Marc told you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God, no, which means it's bound to be trouble. You need to put the screws to Seth, make him—"<br/>
<br/>
"I already tried, it's not happening. But I told him to talk to Jeremy anyway about asking Eva out tonight. He knows it's a good idea for Jeremy, so if Eva doesn't get an invite—" She glances behind her at the entrance to the locker room, where Jeremy and Seth and the rest of the boys' basketball squad will be changing out from their pre-class practice. "It's because Jeremy's a dipshit," she says very quietly.<br/>
<br/>
You—Will Prescott and Jessica Garner both—are inclined to agree. Jeremy was a good friend of yours in middle school before a growth spurt led him to try out for the basketball team. Ever since he's fallen between too stools. Too much of an insecure prick to hang out with you and Caleb, and too much of a doofus to prosper with the jocks. Except for Seth Javits, who for some reason has adopted him.<br/>
<br/>
"So, sounds like your brother and sister are going to have plans," Cindy says. "What are you doing?"<br/>
<br/>
Is Cindy angling to hang out with you? That would be sweet! Well, sweet for you; totally par for the course for Jessica, so you affect nonchalance. "I—"<br/>
<br/>
You catch yourself before telling Cindy you're trying to get together with Kelsey. It's no sure thing that Kelsey will be free, even for a little while; Cindy would be a definite sure thing. And isn't Cindy—a willowy, platinum-blonde cheerleader—as desirable a catch as Kelsey? And hasn't she got an older sister, now at Keyserling, who was ultra-desirable back when Connor and Justin were still at Westside with her? Shouldn't you collect this bird who is trying to fly into your hand instead Kelsey?</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Art of Getting Your Way
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You don't want to close the door completely on Cindy, so you temporize. "I need to get together with Kelsey after school," you tell her. "That might turn into something, but it might not. Either way, keep me posted on what you're doing? It's Friday, and if I wind up at home with my parents—"<br/>
<br/>
"Hear that," Cindy says. "When Seth told me he was—" A red spot shows in her forehead, and you guess that her boyfriend's plans set off an argument. But she catches herself. "I wouldn't mind talking to Kelsey about squad stuff, you know?" Her voice softens. "Like, would she join the squad again if she could be captain?"<br/>
<br/>
That's a shocking suggestion, for lots of reasons, and you can barely find the words to react. "Uh, that'd be amazing if we could do it," you stammer. "But there'd have to be tryouts, and people would have to quit, and, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"I know, but I'm not going to try figuring out a way around all that if Kelsey isn't interested." She looks at you closely.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, we should all definitely get together to talk at some point," you say. <i>So we can copy you,</i> you add to yourself. "But we should go change now."<br/>
<br/>
"In a minute," Cindy says. "See you on the floor."<br/>
<br/>
There are a lot of other places you'd like to see her as well.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Practice goes off much better than expected. Chelsea must have gotten laid last night, or someone put drugs in her breakfast bar, because she keeps the session brusque and business-like. Only once does she erupt, but it's at you. You can't help it: you have to stare at Gloria Rea as she does a slow series of backward somersaults. Her movement are supple and graceful, and you have a sudden and inexplicable vision of yourself tied tightly to her warm body with bungee cords and ejaculating into her as she wheels with feet over her head. "Yeah, it's pretty goddamned impressive, isn't it, Jessica?" Chelsea's voice snaps you back to awareness. "You should have taken gymnastics at some point so you can learn how to do something a tenth as good." As Jessica has a shelf of gymnastics trophies—real ones, not ones for "participation"—it's a mean and wholly unmerited gibe. Kendra Saunders smirks at you from behind Chelsea's shoulder, and the next chance you get you execute a series of fast hard tumbles to remind the bitches of what you can do. Not that it makes a difference. Chelsea knows how good you are, and ignores you.<br/>
<br/>
But you learned your lesson, and in the locker room afterward  keep your face turned toward the inside of your locker, even as you and everyone around peels down to bare skin while changing clothes. It's enough, though, to give you an electric thrum from the base of your spine to the base of your skull as you expose Jessica's trim body in a semi-public place.<br/>
<br/>
Second period is a study hall, which Jessica usually takes in the library, either doing some solitary studying or talking quietly with Rachel Burton, who also has a study hall that period. To your disappointment, though, for you'd been looking forward to some girl talk, Rachel isn't around; neither is Carson Ioeger, who is usually camped out at a table in the corner with a chess set and his iPhone. So you settle down with your own phone to tease Caleb—or whoever it is that has Caleb's cell phone.<br/>
<br/>
<i>i know why eva's not interested in you :p</i>, you type.<br/>
<br/>
A minute later comes the reply: <i>wtf?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>who's this?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>me, asfaik.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>caleb?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>y</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>eva's trying to date jeremy. :x</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>richards?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>lol, right?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>where are you?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>library.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>meet at lunch?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>ew, loser like you? :p</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>F U.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>lol.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>plan 4 2day?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>i plan 2b sexy.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>FFFFFFFF UUUUUUUUU</i><br/>
<br/>
You laugh long and softly to yourself. <i>your locker b4 lunch, ok?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>ok and FFFF UUUU.</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>in your dreams, lol!</i><br/>
<br/>
You send out one more text before laying the phone aside: a note to Kelsey saying you want to talk to her briefly at the start of third period, which you share. With that set, you turn your attention to figuring out what to ask her, and how, such that you can get her alone at her place.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It figures that you can't dodge Mr. Walberg: He teaches third period AP World History. But the classroom looks and feels different, probably because you're a different height and it is filled with a different set of students. But it's still dominated by the AP fucks, including Kelsey, who is already at her regular seat as you enter. You give Mr. Walberg a warm, simpering smile as you pass his desk—but he ignores you—and slip into the desk just in front of Kelsey.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey Blankenship and Chelsea Cooper are the alpha-est girls you know, but they are "alpha" in very different ways. They share a certain steeliness, but where Chelsea covers hers with an acidic sweetness, Kelsey swaddles hers in imperial velvet. She affects an expensive bohemian look of jeans skirts, dark blouses, sandals, and silver and turquoise jewelry. Right now, for instance, she has a pair of blocky silver earrings showing beneath her long, brunette hair. You recognize the pattern as Anasazi—<br/>
<br/>
<i>That's a racist term,</i> Kelsey had corrected Jessica when she'd made the mistake of using it a few months ago. <i>The correct term is 'Hisatsinom'.</i><br/>
<br/>
Never mind that Kelsey had been using "Anasazi" only a few weeks before. She had succeeded in making Jessica feel both uneducated and begrimed with an awful social sin.<br/>
<br/>
Her smile as you sit down isn't unfriendly, but it is quizzical, which makes it a lot nicer than any other smile she's ever given Will Prescott. It keeps grating on you: all these people who are so much nicer to people who aren't you, and are nice to you when they think you are someone else. But even Jessica feels condescended to when Kelsey turns her attention her way.<br/>
<br/>
"Can we get together this afternoon after school?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey's smile doesn't move. "What are we doing right now?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm trying to find out if I can get together with you for a longer talk this afternoon."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you free for coffee?"<br/>
<br/>
"Can we do it at your house?"<br/>
<br/>
Now that smile does shift to something closer to a frown. "What's this about, Jessica?"<br/>
<br/>
You grip the sides of her desk and lean in. "Eva and Hannah Westrick."<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey sighs and rolls her eyes. "I don't give a shit about any of—"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't give a shit about my brother?"<br/>
<br/>
That gets her attention. "What does this have to do with Marc? You mean Marc, don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's the only brother I know of. But all this bullshit has to stop. Marc's doing stuff tonight with Seth Javits and some other guys, probably Steve and Gordon if Seth's mixed up in it, and I don't want to be home if those assholes show up at our place."<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey sighs deeply. "It's his own fault—"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, let's talk about it. You're the only one who can do anything about it, and I'm—"<br/>
<br/>
You're very proud of the way you get the tears to spring up in your eyes on cue; you're pretty sure you've got a complexion-curdling flush to go with it as you sniff deeply and wipe your nose with the back of your hand. "I don't want to talk about it where people can see me like this."<br/>
<br/>
It's a risky gambit, but it works. Kelsey seems awed by the performance, which she quickly covers with a more characteristically smug pleasure at your flattery of her as the "only person" who can solve everyone's problems. "Four o'clock?" she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Just us?"<br/>
<br/>
She nods, so you get up. She clasps your wrist. "It'll be okay, Jessica." You nod again, fight back the tears, and stumble back to your seat while ignoring the embarrassed glances of the others in the class.<br/>
<br/>
Your nipples are hard as you take your seat.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Why don't you try asking me out instead of my sister?" You flash deep, mischievous dimples at Caleb as you settle with your back against the locker next to his. You run a tongue over your lower lip. "Tell you my fantasies if you tell me yours."<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a horrified, sidelong look, then turns away, probably to hide the boner you'd bet you're giving him. "I think we should have lunch with Jenny and them," you continue in a lower voice. "Jenny and Yumi and maybe Cindy'll be there too. Meet me at the doors by A wing, we'll pretend we ran into each other." You push back into the hallway and give Andrew Harding a dirty look when he jostles you.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb is long in showing up at the rendezvous point. "I had to shake Keith," he says. "Oh, and we should talk about Will and Lisa. Prescott's always bugging me to bug you about her."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Touche.</i> You've been trying hard to avoid diving into Jessica's memories of you and Lisa and her opinion of that pairing. It's enough that you get a sinking feeling every time you think of "Will Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"I set up a play date with Kelsey at four o'clock," you tell him. "Someone needs to show up there. Or I need a mask or—"<br/>
<br/>
"So talk to Connor." Caleb's tone is grumpy. "He and Justin are running things now."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean by that?"<br/>
<br/>
"The slumber party. Justin's already got dibs on Eva, and Connor's gunning for Kelsey. That leaves me with a mask of Miss Alcoholic Blackout."<br/>
<br/>
"You could be Marc."<br/>
<br/>
"Would you fuck your own brother?" <br/>
<br/>
"Eww. Then how about Geoff? Never mind, I wouldn't fuck him either. Well, shit, man, I don't know—"<br/>
<br/>
Except you do. <i>Cindy.</i> But you doubt Connor would like you making another mask. You'd have to do it in secret.</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111
author_id: seuzz
title: Of Nudges, Pokes and Other Forms of Foreplay
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You file it away in the back of your head, for there's no reason to bring it up now: <i>Get a mask of Cindy for Caleb.</i> "Maybe we could get a mask of Richards for you," you joke aloud, and poke Caleb in the ribs. "You know, Eva's got a date with him tonight."<br/>
<br/>
"She does?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think he's going to ask her out. I set it up."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb stops and turns wide eyes on you. "Why would you do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why, did I fuck something up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why do him a favor like that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno, I guess I was being sisterly." You snicker. "She's got a thing for him. Can you believe that?"<br/>
<br/>
"So who's Jessica hot for?"<br/>
<br/>
"Someone better than Richards, that's for sure."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" His voice turns sly. "Come on, tell me."<br/>
<br/>
"Anybody. Anybody on the wrestling team, for a start."<br/>
<br/>
"You like Delacroix better than Richards?"<br/>
<br/>
What a question! "Well, yeah!"<br/>
<br/>
"Do you, <i>Will?</i>" He cackles.<br/>
<br/>
You grab him by the hair with both hands, and he yelps.<br/>
<br/>
"Best part of being a girl," you gasp after you've manhandled him. "You get to beat the shit out of douchebag guys. But come on, if I'm going to be seen with you in public, we should go hang out with Jenny and her friends so I don't look stupid." You can't keep an extra waggle out of your hips as you walk along next to Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
As usual, the quartet of Jenny Ashton, Carson Ioeger, James Lamont, and Paul Davis is sitting on the front quad near the corner of the library. Sometimes Yumi Saito—another cheerleader—will be sitting with them; more rarely Lin Pol will join the company; and in very rare cases Cindy Vredenburg will deign to join the company. But today it is just the four of them.<br/>
<br/>
Jenny's eyes brighten when she sees you approaching. "I thought I was going to miss out on my cheerleader updates," she says, and the guys groan.<br/>
<br/>
"Can't I be popular for my own reasons? Hi, Carson," you say in a dreamy voice, and dimple at him. He turns red and looks away with a mutter. <br/>
<br/>
"Is there any news?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. Why would there be?" You peel open the yogurt and sniff daintily at it. This is not Will Prescott's usual kind of meal, and Jessica's not fond of it either, but if you handle the plastic spoon right you'll be sure to drive the guys wild. "It was actually a pretty quiet practice today—"<br/>
<br/>
"Has Cindy said anything to you?"<br/>
<br/>
"About what?"<br/>
<br/>
Jenny smiles meaningfully. You perform a set of calculations with a rapidity that would put a computer processor to shame. "What has Yumi been telling you?"<br/>
<br/>
Jenny hops across the grass on her butt and pulls you close, whispering in your ear. "Cindy's trying to expand the squad roster to fifteen." Jenny sits back and gives you that same meaningful smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Why? Why does she want to expand the roster?"<br/>
<br/>
"So she <i>hasn't</i> said anything to you!"<br/>
<br/>
"Not about—" You draw a breath and stop. These are deep waters, even for Jessica, and you're reluctant to accidentally commit yourself.<br/>
<br/>
"So what <i>has</i> she talked to you about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Only about getting together tonight."<br/>
<br/>
Jenny claps her hands. "I bet that's it! That's when she's going to talk to you about it. She's getting together with you and Eva, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, just me. Because Seth is doing something and Eva's going out on a date."<br/>
<br/>
"Who with?" The light in Jenny's eye suggests you've successfully diverted her.<br/>
<br/>
"Jeremy Richards, if he's not a complete doofus and actually asks her out."<br/>
<br/>
The boys have been talking amongst themselves, but apparently Carson has been half-listening to you and Jenny, for he inserts himself at this point: "So what makes you think Eva won't be free tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
You and Jenny exchange an exasperated look at the denseness of Carson's question. "It's being <i>arranged</i> for him to ask her out."<br/>
<br/>
"Doesn't he get a say in the matter?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"He just gets a nudge in the right direction," says Jenny.<br/>
<br/>
"How come nobody ever nudges me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Go stand on a cliff and I'll arrange a nudge for you," Jenny says. Back to you: "How long has she been waiting for him?"<br/>
<br/>
"To ask about tonight, or to ask ever?"<br/>
<br/>
"Both."<br/>
<br/>
There follows a long and very girlish talk about Eva's longstanding attraction for Jeremy, and the devices whereby she has finally by small degrees pushed him into a corner whereby he would act upon her fascination. Several times you almost lapse out of character, so struck are you by the incongruity of your talk, and you almost turn to Carson and Caleb and the other boys to exclaim, "Can you believe I'm talking like I'm interested in this shit? Isn't it amazing?" but you restrain yourself.<br/>
<br/>
The conversation eventually circles back to Cindy and the cheerleaders, though. "Maybe Cindy wants to spring it on only one of you instead both at the same time," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Spring what?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Jenny seizes you by the wrist. "Just get her on the subject of cheerleaders and the squad, and tell her you know she's up to something and you want to know what it is." Her grip tightens as she becomes more excited. "And you've got to talk her into doing it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Jeez, Jenny, why does it matter so much to you?" But Jenny just laughs.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Sixth period is an advanced art class with Mr. Trencher. You had Trencher earlier in your school career and really liked him, and Jessica likes him too, so you're extra bubbly and cheerful this day, which leaves him smiling and laughing. This might be why he doesn't object when you pull out your phone to check a text message in the middle of class; but he's a graying hippie-type, so he's far from being a hard-ass anyway. It's from Caleb, telling you to meet Connor in the student parking lot after school to pick up a "spy kit" to use on Kelsey. <i>Spy kit?</i> You text back asking what that's all about, and that you're supposed to ride home with Marc and Eva. <i>talk to Connor not  me,</i> he texts back.<br/>
<br/>
You look for Eva at her locker during the break before seventh period. "Hey, any change in plans for tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
She's looking drawn and distracted. "No," she says, and her voice is tight and she avoids your eye. Then she does a double-take and looks at you. "Any change in your plans?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kind of. I'm going over to Kelsey's for a little while after school, so I'm going to get a ride out of here with someone else."<br/>
<br/>
"Anything after that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. Why?" Something in her manner suggests there's a reason she's asking, but she just shrugs, and she gets a little more haggard in the face.<br/>
<br/>
You can guess what this is about. You march off to English class. Marc is in there too, but you ignore him and he ignores you. Instead you glare hard at Jeremy Richards, who is folded up in a desk like a misplaced step-ladder. He's got a furtive look in his eye and is jogging his leg. He catches you staring and gazes back with a dumb look of bafflement. Then you see the light dawning on his face, and he looks away, turning pale. You stride past without speaking to him, drop into the desk behind—not your normal spot—and spend most of class kicking it. When the bell rings, he bolts from the room. It had better be to find Eva, but the way he's looking it might be to find a toilet to throw up into. <i>What a fucking goober.</i> He really does belong with you and your friends, not with Javits and Patterson and Black and the other alpha jocks.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, he's dumb enough to hang out with you and Caleb and Keith, as Keith himself proves almost immediately after Jeremy's made his long-legged dash for the exit. Tilley is also in that English class, and as you're bending over you bag to reload your books, he saunters over. "Hey," he says, and when you raise your head you almost forget who you're pretending to be and answer as yourself. But you catch yourself and just stare back. <i>God, he's ugly.</i> You don't normally mind Keith's beetle-brow and bad skin, but Jessica notices and comments loudly inside your skull.<br/>
<br/>
"So," he continues with a jerk of his chin. "You and Johansson have a hot date tonight or something?" His eyes miss yours, your nose, your chin, and are boring directly at your breasts.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, no."<br/>
<br/>
"Because Johansson at lunch was all, like, yeah, I'm eating with Jessica, I think her and me are doing something later. Pft, I knew it, he's such a fucking liar."<br/>
<br/>
You're torn between the urge to confirm Tilley's conviction that Jessica would have nothing to do with Caleb, and the urge to discomfit him by admitting that you're getting together with him on a Friday night. You split the difference: "We had lunch together."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, me and Prescott saw you two making out on the quad." He puts on a dopey smirk. "'Cept it wasn't with each other."<br/>
<br/>
God, if this is what you and your friends are like, no wonder everyone thinks you're not worth their time. You hike your backpack onto your shoulders and leave without answering Tilley.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Last period: Calculus. You find out what Eva was getting at when she asked if your plans for the evening had changed.<br/>
<br/>
Alec "Brownie" Brown is in there, along with his best bud and fellow wrestler Laurent Delacroix. The two are always friendly to Jessica, though never more than that. But today Brownie rises from his desk and pads over to yours, sinking into the desk in front. He turns those smoldering hazel eyes toward you. "Hey Jessica," he says in a throaty baritone. "Whatcha doin' tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
This moment has been Jessica's fantasy for most of high school.</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112
author_id: seuzz
title: An Ambush on Birdbrook
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Jessica's lust for Alec "Brownie" Brown is like a deep-swelling, over-topping wave, and it rises now within you, capsizing your gut and dragging it down toward your knees. But this waves shares the spaces of your body with a more obdurate rock: your own indifference to Brownie's masculine virtues.<br/>
<br/>
Of course you can recognize them: the smooth summer-tanned skin and strong bones of his face; the dark stubble; the close-cropped hair that shimmers with mingled blondes and browns. He's in a loose gray sweatshirt and jeans, but you—and Jessica—know he's got a strong, well-proportioned physique under it. And there's the bold gaze he's turned on you, as though daring you keep up with a guy who can gallop easily over hard and broken ground.<br/>
<br/>
If you were looking out for Jessica's interests you'd tell him "I'm not busy tonight" and let him make the next, obvious proposal. If you were looking out for your own interests you'd tell him you were busy in a way that would discourage him from any kind of follow-up at all.  Hammered as you are between Jessica's urges and your lack of the same, and some faint, conscientious knowledge that you shouldn't screw thing up too much for Jessica, you try a middle course. "I've already set up a girls' thing with Kelsey," you reply. "But I'm free tomorrow night."<br/>
<br/>
You are so focused on his face that you can see the faint twitch in his nostrils. "Tomorrow night I'm going to the Warehouse. I've got a friend playing in a band there, going to support him." His gaze is direct and powerful. "I'll pick you up at nine if you can make it."<br/>
<br/>
That's less than what Jessica would want from, and much more than you would want after your last experience at the Warehouse. But it's that or you shoot him down completely with no hope of recovery. "That'd be great," you reply. Your smile feels desperate, and you hope for Jessica's sake that it looks eager and not merely sickened.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't show his teeth in the smile he returns. "Awesome. Nine o'clock. You ever been out there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"So you know not to dress up too nice," he says. He grips the back of the chair with strong, brown hands as he gets up, and your eyes—guided by Jessica's instincts, not your own—go to his ass as he walks back to his regular desk. As you tear your gaze away, you catch Laurent looking at you. He breaks into a very toothy grin, and leans forward to whisper something to Brownie after he's seated himself. Blushing furiously, you turn toward the window. Several long, humiliating minutes pass before you feel the hot flush leave your cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Eva looks a lot happier after last period when you find her at the orchestra room. "Hey, just reminding you I'm getting a ride out to Kelsey's after school," you tell her. "Can you tell Mom and Dad I'm doing homework at her place and you and Marc will pick me up for dinner and the movie?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. You got plans for tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
You grab Eva by the forearm and rise onto tiptoes. "Tomorrow night I'm going out with <i>Alec Brown!</i>" Your voice would rise to a shriek except that it's choked with excitement.<br/>
<br/>
Eva grabs you back. "That's so great! But I thought— Never mind. Jeremy asked me out tonight, so I'm going with him." She at least manages to keep her cool; but of course she's been anticipating the invitation all day.<br/>
<br/>
No more gets said about either of your dates, and neither of you acknowledge that the other set it up. You do wonder, though, why if Eva could have set up this dream date between Brownie and Jessica, she had never done so before.<br/>
<br/>
Connor is visible on the far side of the parking lot, but you wait, lingering on the curb until Marc and Eva have left before going out to meet him. "Took you long enough to spot me," he grumbles as you approach. "I was about to come over and get you."<br/>
<br/>
"Do I know you?" you retort. "I saw you, but I didn't want my dear brother and sister to see me with you." You get in his car, and he gets in too. "Besides, I don't have to be out to Kelsey's until four. What's this, that 'spy kit'?" You open the plastic bag he has on the seat between you.<br/>
<br/>
"I think it's got everything you need. Here's the mask for Kelsey," he says as he takes it and a small plastic container out. "That's to seal it."<br/>
<br/>
"Why the clothes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Those are my clothes, to go with my mask." He digs down and draws out a second mask. "It's all set to go. All you have to do is—"<br/>
<br/>
"Where are you going to be?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm explaining," he says with a slightly strangled impatience. He must having a hard time holding back his excitement. "Out at Kelsey's, you get the mask onto her, get her undressed, then before she wakes up you put my mask onto her. Call me, I'll be down the street— Wait a minute, where does she live?"<br/>
<br/>
"Out in Essex Hills."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God."<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly. Her dad owns Blankenship Motors, do you think they actually live in town? They live on Birdbrook."<br/>
<br/>
"What's the house number?"<br/>
<br/>
"No house number, Hutchison. They have Birdbrook all to themselves."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you fucking kidding me? So what's the mailing address? Just 'Birdbrook'?"<br/>
<br/>
"You think I send snail mail to Kelsey Blankenship? How the fuck should I know?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's not a private gate or anything, is there?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, just a long driveway. But you'll be down the street?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." He starts repacking the bag. "Call me, I'll come out. You should have my minion ready to go by then, and he can instantly exit."<br/>
<br/>
"You're leaving it all to me, then?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why, you think you can't handle it?"<br/>
<br/>
You stick out your tongue at him. "I've got lots of reasons to smash Kelsey Blankenship in the face, and some of them are Jessica Garner's reasons. Don't worry about me."<br/>
<br/>
Connor looks like he's salivating.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Essex Hills is a development northwest of the city, and you believe you've heard it's not even technically part of Saratoga Falls, but is a kind of self-governing enclave of ultra-snooty rich people. In middle school, Kelsey told people in that bragging way she has that not only is the area named after the county in in England, but that all the streets are named after actual towns and cities in Essex. That just called attention to her street name, and it took a couple of years before she managed to shake the corrupted tag "Birdbrain" that people hung on her address. Not that "Birdbrook" sounds much better, you think, which sounds less England-y than merely suburban.<br/>
<br/>
But there's nothing suburban about the empty streets with their widely spaced entrances in the gently rolling hills. Large white or red-brick houses with steeply pitched gray roofs and tall, shimmering windows peek out from behind their curves, or from inside screens of trees. Birdbrook is on the far side of the development—as far as you can get from the city without toppling over into raw countryside. So what if it makes for a long commute? Her dad owns the largest chain of car dealerships in the city, he and his family can afford to wear out their cars. <br/>
<br/>
Birdbrook is a short but winding street, and even though it has only one house on it, the carriage drive—as Kelsey says it's called—to the house is still set off from the street by two low mounds and an arched gate. The house itself actually looks like two houses, joined together by an entry hall topped by an ornamental tower. Connor stares up at it and lets out a low whistle. "Don't waste any time, okay?" he tells you. You smile and pat his cheek and get out of the car.<br/>
<br/>
Up the steps to the front door. You ring the bell; the answer comes over an intercom. "You're early," Kelsey says. "Come on in." She has unlocked the front door remotely; and as Jessica has been to the house lots of times before, you have no trouble finding your way to her suite in the east wing.<br/>
<br/>
She's standing in the hallway when you get to the top of the stairs, her face turned down to her iPhone. "I thought you wanted to talk about Eva and Marc," she says querulously. <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." You clutch the plastic bag a little more tightly. You really want to get the mask onto her before you have to improvise some talk about the rest of the Garner siblings.<br/>
<br/>
"Then why am I getting this text from Cindy about coming out?" she asks, sounding very pissed off. She stalks back into the bedroom. "She's talking like you invited her along. I wish there was a fencepost big enough in town that she could impale herself cunny-side down on it."<br/>
<br/>
<i>That's all I can take,</i> you think, and as she turns a corner to the bedroom, you pull the blank mask from the bag. Kelsey's still got her back to you when you step through the doorway. Her very large bedroom is all done up in peaches and tans, but you've time to admire it later.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey's thumbs are tapping on the pad of the phone, and so absorbed is she that she doesn't notice you coming up behind her with the mask. You drop the bag on the floor with a thud, put one arm around her chest, and sweep the other around to her face. For an instant she goes very stiff, then folds up and takes you to the floor with her.<br/>
<br/>
You scramble out from under her. There's no chance of anyone hearing, but you close the door anyway. Then you scoop up the fallen iPhone. Before putting it on the vanity, you glance at it. Kelsey has typed a fairly rude reply to Cindy, but hasn't hit "send" yet.</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111122
author_id: seuzz
title: Strip Tease
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Let Connor decide what to do about Cindy.</i> Carefully, you lay Kelsey's iPhone with its composed but unsent reply onto her vanity table. Then you turn your attention to the fallen girl.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey Blankenship is tall and lithe. Deceptively lithe, for she is a fair athlete and a more-than-fair gymnast. She and the Garner girls have known each other since elementary school—even though they went to different schools—as they went to the same gymnastics academy all the way through early high school. Kelsey always did best—a sore spot for Eva and Jessica, since it seemed unfair that she should have so many advantages <i>and</i> should merit the better set of trophies. But they swallowed their resentment and stayed friends with the bossy Blankenship girl, and tried to stay in her good graces even after she tried shaking them during their sophomore year, when she apparently decided that AP Classes and Socially Conscious After-School Clubs and People With Money were more interesting than gymnastics. That didn't stop her from joining the cheerleader squad, though; and when she decided to make a play for the captaincy of the squad, she fell upon the Garners with gooey smiles and barf-making cheerfulness (as though they had never ceased to be best friends) and talked them into trying out for the squad which she would soon—she assured them—be running. And when that didn't work out she dropped the squad and the Garners like they were a handful of boogers.<br/>
<br/>
But why are you rehearsing a past that has nothing to do with you when you could be stripping Kelsey down to her skin? The point is that what skin she shows the world always looks good, and you're sure the rest of her will look good too.<br/>
<br/>
You start with her sandals, unbuckling and pulling them off her feet. You run your palms up the sides of her calves and thighs to her jeans skirt, which you unzip and unwrap and lay next to the sandals. She's wearing a black, sleeveless blouse with silver threads running through it; you straddle yourself on her lap to unbutton and pull it off her shoulders. Now she's down to her bra and panties, and briefly you cradle her shoulders in your hands. Then you reach under to unhook the bra. This is very hard to do in a sitting position, so you lay yourself atop her, your face close to hers, while working the clasps. You linger with a cheek touching hers even after you've got the bra away.<br/>
<br/>
You sit up. Kelsey's breasts have a subtle pear-shape to them, and they are not very large. But you find them firm when you close your hands around them. The nipples are flabby, though, and don't respond when you rub them with your thumbs.<br/>
<br/>
Last, the panties, which fit tightly to her. She has a very fluffy bush, and before you can stop to think better of it, you probe it with a finger. <i>How much pleasure does it give Karl Hennepin,</i> you wonder. <i>Does she let him finger her?</i> You lay your other palm on the side of her throat. <i>Will Connor let you finger him when he's looking like this?</i><br/>
<br/>
Connor—You've got to get everything else ready for him. That means pulling the thin, stiff silver bracelets off Kelsey's wrists; the choker with the turquoise pendant from around her throat; the two toe rings on her right foot; and those two honking big earrings. You spread this loot out on the vanity table for Connor's quick and easy retrieval, and spread Kelsey's clothes on the bed. Next to them you pile Connor's clothes, and put Connor's mask, the sealant, and the paintbrush on the padded chair at the vanity table.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey herself lays with disordered hair on the floor, staring glassily at the ceiling.<br/>
<br/>
You look around the room. The bed is king-sized, with a bedspread of desert tans and golds; hanging on the wall above the headboard is a short, zebra-striped blanket of rough wool. The walls are a muted, dusty peach, except for the far wall opposite the bed, which is white and is crisscrossed with black line work. They are abstract-ish designs of Zuni, Pueblo and—when she was calling it by its un-PC name—Anasazi flavor which she has painted on the wall herself. Jessica admires them, the way she forces herself to admire everything Kelsey does; to your native eye they look like a scramble of mecha-tarantulas.<br/>
<br/>
You open a closet door on a girlish whim and look through Kelsey's things. So many dresses and blouses and shirts and sweaters. On the floor, so many sandals and sneakers and pumps and boots. On the shelves so many skirts and shorts and jeans. You shut the door. Next to closet are a set of narrow double doors, and the lights over the doorsill go on as you pull them open to reveal a floor-length mirror; hanging on the inside of the double doors are two more mirrors. Some girls get to have a full-length mirror hanging inside their closet. Kelsey gets to have three of them—like in a department store—taking up most of a bedroom wall.<br/>
<br/>
You turn in place, examining your own borrowed body. It's compact, taut, sexy. Jessica has better boobs, and you really like her tight, clingy hair. Given a choice between Jessica and Kelsey, you'd much rather put your cock into the former. She's just sexier. But Jessica's jealousy of Kelsey dampens your appreciation of this body. Jessica is sexier than Kelsey, but Kelsey has <i>style.</i><br/>
<br/>
While still studying yourself, you glimpse a glow in the mirror: the mask coming out of Kelsey. Quickly you close up those mirrored doors and hasten to her side. You carefully lift the mask from her face, and set Connor's onto her. Her face abruptly changes to his, and you snap your hand back as his eyes open.<br/>
<br/>
For an instant, you stare at each other.<br/>
<br/>
Then he realizes he's naked and half-pulls the bedspread off the bed to cover his shame. Most of the carefully composed wardrobes come crashing down on him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The minion's panic is not very long-lived. It seems reasonably up-to-date on what is going on and what is expected of it. It is resentful, though. "I wish I was the one putting these things on," it says as it holds Kelsey's bra up to its chest. You yank it away and tell it to get dressed. "You're not my boss," it retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"No, but I'm calling your boss now, and what'll he say if he gets here and you're not—"<br/>
<br/>
"I could really fuck things up for you guys before he got here, you know." Minion-Connor grins in an evil way. "Like, what if I went running through the house naked?" But you ignore him and send Connor the <i>all ready</i> text. The minion hops over to the window and looks out. "Nice driveway. Where are we, exactly?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey's place, dur. Essex Hills," you add when the minion turns to give you a look.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh God, really? What's the address?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Not this conversation again.</i> "Ask Connor when he gets here. And get dressed already. I'm going to wait downstairs."<br/>
<br/>
Partly you're heading down because the minion is unnerving you, but mostly it's because you don't know how to work the intercom or remote lock. While you're loitering in the foyer, a heavy-set Hispanic woman in a uniform walks through. She gives you a look, but you just smile and look away like you totally belong there. She accepts your bluff, and keeps walking.<br/>
<br/>
You yank the door open as soon as the doorbell rings. "Get in here and get upstairs," you hiss at Connor. "That freaking minion—"<br/>
<br/>
"What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing, and that's the problem. He's prancing around with his cock flapping and trying on Kelsey's clothes. Which I can totally see you doing, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"Shit. Which way?"<br/>
<br/>
You run into the east wing, with him at a gallop behind you.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe the minion saw Connor arrive and it sobered him up; or maybe it settled down after losing you as an audience. But when you run into the bedroom you find it sitting on the bed, completely dressed and wearing an innocent look; Connor spares you a brief glare before tossing it his car keys. "I'll text you some contact info," he tells it. "Check in every day with a report. Otherwise, just be normal."<br/>
<br/>
"Ja wohl," it says with a Nazi salute, and scurries out before Connor's answering kick can connect.<br/>
<br/>
"So where's Kelsey's mask?"<br/>
<br/>
"On the vanity. I didn't get a chance to seal it. That <i>thing</i> was totally out of control."<br/>
<br/>
"That thing is basically me, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"So you can guess how much of an asshole it was being, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Quit exaggerating. I'm starting to remember that Jessica Garner was always a bit of a drama queen, and so are you, Will."<br/>
<br/>
"Can you just get changed already? Turns out there's a maid or someone downstairs, and this house is big enough you could hide a small frat party without noticing."<br/>
<br/>
But Connor has already scooped up the mask and sat down with the paintbrush. You occupy yourself with straightening up the bedspread and Kelsey's clothes while Connor seals up the mask. "By the way," you say, "I thought you had to work afternoons at Starbucks."<br/>
<br/>
"I switched with Justin. Just work schedules," he adds. "Not—"<br/>
<br/>
"I get it. So Justin is working late?"<br/>
<br/>
"Till eleven. Can we get Eva out here around then, so he can do a switch?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. She's got a date. What about Caleb?"<br/>
<br/>
"If we can get that other girl out here, we can take care of him whenever."<br/>
<br/>
You've basically decided to get Cindy for Caleb, but that would involve  making a new mask. And Connor might not appreciate it. Maybe you should keep that idea secret from him, as just a thing between you and your best friend.</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111221
author_id: seuzz
title: A Kelsey Out of Character
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Caleb's not real happy about having to be Hannah," you blurt out while Connor is blowing on the inside of the mask to dry it. It seems better to get the talk out of the way before he's inside Kelsey's mask and falls under her influence.<br/>
<br/>
"Justin's set to be Eva, so that only leaves Hannah," Connor says. "Unless he wants to be Marc, and that would be kind of icky if he wants to play."<br/>
<br/>
"Could we make another mask? I mean, it would eat up time, I know—" You feel yourself redden under Connor's stare. "But Hannah's not really part of Kelsey's group, and there are lots of girls that we could—"<br/>
<br/>
"Can we talk about this after I've got the mask on?" Connor says. "You wanted me to hurry."<br/>
<br/>
So you relent. At least you got the topic out there. <br/>
<br/>
Connor lays back on the bed. He holds the mask high over his face for a few moments, staring up into it. You look away when you notice the bulge in the front of his slacks.<br/>
<br/>
When you glance back, Kelsey Blankenship—though dressed in Connor's clothes—is lying unconscious on the bed.<br/>
<br/>
You curl up on the floor next to your friend's dangling legs and take out your iPhone. There's a text from Eva, asking if you need to be picked up, and one from Cindy, asking if you're at Kelsey's. That reminds you of the text that is hanging on Kelsey's phone. To Eva you reply <i>no</i> and to Cindy you reply, <i>talking now, txt later.</i><br/>
<br/>
You were thinking earlier today about getting Caleb into a mask of Cindy, and here's a convenient chance. Kelsey is really close to Amanda Ferguson, so there's another possibility; but Kelsey is close to lots of girls, and when she crooks her finger they usually come running. As long as you're not gunning for Chelsea or one of her friends, you stand a reasonably good chance with Connor's help of getting Caleb his choice.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, but what would his choice be? You text him: <i>if not hannah for u, who? give me list.</i> Then you lean back to wait for someone to make a move.<br/>
<br/>
It's Connor who stirs first, and when the leg by your face twitches, you turn around. Kelsey, her face crinkled in a puzzled expression, has raised her head and is looking back at you. For a moment you're afraid that it really will be Kelsey, that her personality will have overwhelmed Connor's, and that you'll have to wrestle her to get the mask off and restore him. But while you're still processing this horrible fantasy she raises her hand and studies it.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus Fucking Christ," she says. "Look at me, I'm Kelsey Fucking Blankenship." She lays her head back down and grabs her boobs with both hands.<br/>
<br/>
"You're in a funny set of clothes," you remind her. "Better get changed."<br/>
<br/>
She gasps and sits up sharply. "Fuck me, I get to look at myself naked! Where's the bathroom?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's some mirrors over there." You point. "But the bathroom—" <br/>
<br/>
She grapples excitedly at her polo shirt and pulls it off in a most unladylike way. Her boobs bounce. She sucks in a sharp breath and cradles them and makes kissy-face noises. "Oh, aren't they sweet?" A feverish gleam comes into her eye. "Bathroom. Where's the—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you remember? You're Kelsey Fucking Blankenship."<br/>
<br/>
"No time to remember, I gotta—" You point to a door, and she scrambles for it with oversize shoes clomping awkwardly on her feet. From around its corner you hear clothes falling off and onto the floor. "Oh my God!"<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey's face appears around the edge of the door. She's biting on her hand, but takes it out long to say, "I'm sexy," then vanishes again.<br/>
<br/>
You groan. "You've got all night for that kind of thing, man."<br/>
<br/>
"I've been waiting, like, five years for this, I gotta take it in. Oh! Oh, <i>oh!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Mmmmmm!"<br/>
<br/>
"If you're trying to cum or something—"<br/>
<br/>
"There's no <i>trying,</i>" comes her strangled voice. "Oh God, wherever I touch myself I'm, like—"<br/>
<br/>
"So stop touching yourself!"<br/>
<br/>
"Ohhhh!" Then comes a hard sniffle. "I think she must have been horny when you caught her."<br/>
<br/>
"No, you're just—! Wait, hang on a minute." You bounce over to the vanity and retrieve Kelsey's phone and flick over to the other text streams she had going. "Jesus! You do know what she was doing just before I got here, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, what?"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean, no? You've got her memories, don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hmm?"<br/>
<br/>
"Take a shower! A cold one! Kelsey was sexting Karl just before I got here! They were talking about meeting at the Donna. In fact, I think he's on his way over there now!"<br/>
<br/>
That brings Kelsey, still naked, out of the bathroom. "Let me see." She scrolls through the messages, frowning. While she studies them, your own phone dings with a reply from Caleb: <i>my choice? really?</i><br/>
<br/>
You cuss under breath at having to juggle two horny guys at once. <i>if u want Hannah, ok,</i> you text back. <i>Want someone else?</i><br/>
<br/>
"I don't remember any of these," Kelsey says faintly. "But you're right, I think he's on his way over to—" Her voice catches.<br/>
<br/>
You jaw falls open. "You don't <i>remember?</i> There's a band inside that mask! It's got Kelsey's name in it, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but it takes time to get into one of these things, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I don't know, Connor. For me, it's like instantaneous."<br/>
<br/>
"It is?" She looks incredulous. "Justin and me, when we get into them, it takes like an hour to even start getting memories and shit. I didn't even start to feel comfortable inside Justin's mask until, like, a day had gone by, and by that time—"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You seize this girl—this girl who looks like Kelsey Blankenship but has an uncharacteristic look of befuddlement on her face—by the shoulders and shakes her. "You were planning to impersonate Kelsey Blankenship in front of her family and friends, and you weren't even going to be good at it until <i>tomorrow?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
She frowns. It's not as convincing as Kelsey's usual scowl, but it's a little more in character for her. But then she speaks. "I was just going to stay in for the night, Will. I mean, how much trouble could I get into if—"<br/>
<br/>
You grab up the phone. "How many messages has she got?" You look through the list. Just since school got out there are texts from Cindy and Karl (a dozen of them), Amanda Ferguson, Brooke Galloway, Lisa Yarborough, Anthony Kirk, Geoff Mansfield, Rachel Burton— You toss the phone away.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, Kelsey was basically on her way to meet Karl when I showed up. No wonder she was so pissy when Cindy texted her. Oh, and that's another thing, she's in the middle of a conversation with Cindy Vredenburg. Also, I'm talking to Caleb about whether he can get a mask of a different girl, and—"<br/>
<br/>
"Chill out, Will," Kelsey says. "So I'll turn off my phone. It doesn't matter. We were just going to hang out here all night and—" She grins impishly and brushes the side of your head. "Why should I care about Karl when I've got you?"<br/>
<br/>
You groan and turn away. She's right, probably. So "Kelsey" lets everyone go hang by their thumbs. Kelsey's going to come back with a huge blank spot anyway.<br/>
<br/>
But it bothers you, having these loose ends dangling, especially when you know that if <i>you</i> were inside Kelsey's mask—<br/>
<br/>
If <i>you</i> were playing Kelsey Blankenship—<br/>
<br/>
But Connor has clearly been lusting for this moment since he realized it was possible, so there's no use suggesting that <i>you</i> take over as Kelsey from him.<br/>
<br/>
Then Connor gives you an opening. "I know what you're thinking, Will, but I'm not going to—" She shudders. "Meet Karl at the Donna just so you can get those photos. We'll do it later, set up a scene with that mask of Karl—"<br/>
<br/>
"What if I do it?" you blurt out. "Yeah," you continue, even though you're regretting your words almost as soon as they tumble out. "I'll go meet Karl at the Donna, and you go along and take pictures. Hide out in one of the other rooms and take pictures through the curtains."<br/>
<br/>
"We don't need to do that, Will. We can set up a scene tomorrow—"<br/>
<br/>
"It'll be hours until we're ready to have a party. Justin won't show up until eleven-thirty or later, and I— Jessica is set up to stay out all night. You can't wait three more hours? Also, I told you that Caleb doesn't want to be Hannah. He can use those hours to make another mask and we can get another girl for him."<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey drops onto the bed with a deep sigh. "You're turning this into work! It's supposed to be <i>fun!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Just a few more hours of work. You'll get bored being Kelsey before Justin even shows up."<br/>
<br/>
"Doubtful," she says, and hugs herself. Her breath slithers in and out through her teeth.<br/>
<br/>
"Is there <i>anything</i> I can say to get you to change your mind?"<br/>
<br/>
"You really want to be Kelsey, don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, not particularly. I'm just thinking how we can get some business done before—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't mind someone else being Kelsey, at least for a little while," she says, and a smile spreads onto her face. You don't like it. It's not so different from a real Kelsey smile: loaded with trouble. "And I'll let you be Kelsey until Justin comes if you do me a favor."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God.</i> You don't even need to ask what it is.<br/>
<br/>
"Let me fuck her. As myself."<br/>
<br/>
Is it really worth that price, just so you can—<br/>
<br/>
Well, what benefits would you get from it, exactly?</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112211
author_id: seuzz
title: A Kelsey Back in Character
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Connor says he'll let you play Kelsey this afternoon and this evening if he gets to fuck you—as himself—while you're inside her mask. Why would you ever agree to this? The only advantage is that you'd get to fuck Karl Hennepin—not an attractive proposition—and get some compromising photos of him. That was the whole point of getting a mask of Kelsey; but after all this effort and trial, it seems like a really silly payoff.<br/>
<br/>
You're about to tell Connor to forget it, that he can keep playing Kelsey, when you remember the phone in your hand, and the text from Caleb. He's unhappy with Connor and Justin, and you have the impression he's unhappy with you. You could do him a really big favor if you let him use the afternoon to craft a new mask and use it on another girl.<br/>
<br/>
The fake Kelsey smirks. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd—"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll do it," you reply, tilting your chin. "But you have to let Caleb make a copy of a new girl, so he doesn't have to be Hannah."<br/>
<br/>
"So let him be Jessica and you be Hannah," Connor sighs. "You had fun as her."<br/>
<br/>
Now it's your turn to smirk. "I guess you really don't want to fuck Kelsey, do you?"<br/>
<br/>
She scowls and puts out her hand. "Deal." You take it and shake firmly on it.<br/>
<br/>
"Let's get moving. You take off that mask while I talk to Caleb. You're going to have to let him into your house—your and Justin's house—to get the car buffer—"<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't it over at the school?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is it? We'll check. But I'll talk to him, make sure he's on board with this. Come on, move." You push Kelsey back to the bed. "We don't have a lot of time."<br/>
<br/>
With a slow and reluctant groan Connor puts his hands to his brow. You help him get the mask off, and quickly avert your eyes from the naked Connor Hutchison who has reappeared there. You're going to be getting an eyeful of that pale, skinny form soon enough.<br/>
<br/>
You get Caleb on the phone for a short, fast conversation. Yes, he'd rather have lots of other aliases than Hannah for a weekend of fun. Yes, he'd be willing to put in a few hours work to get a new mask made. Yes, he could get you a list of acceptable faces within the next few hours. Yes, Cindy Vredenburg would rank high on the list, but he'd have to think some more before committing. He'll drive over to Will Prescott's house now to collect the key to the school basement, if your doppelganger will turn them over.<br/>
<br/>
So you make a quick call to your old number. The Will Prescott that answers is a little surly, but promises to cooperate with Caleb when he shows up.<br/>
<br/>
By now Connor has begun to stir. "I can't believe no one's interrupted us," you marvel after he's sat up with a groggy look. You start peeling off your clothes. "But get dressed. I'll change in the bathroom. As soon as I get Jessica's mask off, put Kelsey's on me." Then you slap him, to his surprise and your own. "And then you go outside the bedroom and wait for me. No sneak previews." He grouses but agrees.<br/>
<br/>
There's a lovely, thick bath rug on the bathroom floor, and you nestle down onto it. "Ready, set," you murmur as you grip the sides of your face. But instead of "Go," you utter a set of magical syllables, and pull at your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're cold when you wake up, which is only one reason you feel grumpy. You've got other reasons for feeling grumpy, you're sure, but you don't remember what they are. You also have the conviction that you need to remember where you are and who you are.<br/>
<br/>
What a fucked up feeling to wake up to. Of course you know who you are. You're—<br/>
<br/>
You're halfway to sitting up when the head rush knocks you down again. Hair falls in your face, and you instinctively brush it back. You brush back Kelsey Blankenship's hair with Kelsey Blankenship's hands. Because you're Kelsey Blankenship. Your arms tremble as you support yourself in this awkward position: splayed halfway up and halfway on your side on the bath rug in your bathroom.<br/>
<br/>
In Kelsey Blankenship's bathroom. <i>What the fuck is wrong with Connor and everyone else that they have this bullshit line about not getting into character until a day later?</i> You want to kick his fucking ass all the way back to the god damned city for fucking up your plans to see Karl. But everything's been getting in your way, from Jessica Garner showing up to Cindy Vredenburg texting you with some bullshit—<br/>
<br/>
Never mind. The thing to do is to get dressed and call Karl and tell him you got delayed. He's used to waiting on you.<br/>
<br/>
You peek out into the bedroom, but unless Connor is hiding under the bed he's as good as his word and is waiting in the hallway. It'll be okay. Your dad is at the dealership and your mom is at the university, and Jimena and Damaris don't come into this side of the house unless summoned.<br/>
<br/>
Should you change clothes? You're tempted to use that as the excuse for Karl, but it would waste time.<br/>
<br/>
With brusque dispatch you get into fresh panties and bra—that much of a concession to changing clothes is a necessity—before picking up the phone. To Cindy you text: <i>busy now, talk later? rly want to see you.</i> Insincere as hell, but it'll hold the cunt. To Karl you text: <i>dad called, running late, forgive me? xxxxx</i> You scoop up the discarded jeans skirt—<br/>
<br/>
<i>No.</i> You take it to the hamper and daintily drop it in with the discarded underthings. Karl likes the skirt with the tear down near the hem. You rummage for it in the shelf, pull it out. You also pull out the black woolen turtleneck. That'll look good with it. Oh, and that purple blouse you got last weekend at Nirdlinger's, you haven't shown that to anyone yet. You can make it a nice, long session with lots of things to peel off. In that case maybe you should wear jeans instead—<br/>
<br/>
<i>The sweater and blouse will be fine,</i> you tell yourself firmly. You're on a bit of a schedule. It's already four-thirty, and you'll need to be back by six at the latest.<br/>
<br/>
Karl's reply says he's okay, and you reply with another string of kisses and the lie that you're walking out the door now.<br/>
<br/>
On goes the blouse: crisp and with the store smell laundered out. The skirt around it and zipped up smartly. The sweater. You sit at the vanity afterward and carefully brush out your hair. You sigh as you do so. It's so boring, being just a mousy brown and very straight. But it suits your face and form, and you're loathe to try out any radical new looks for fear of doing damage to it. When you've got it free of all those tangles you put in it when you ambushed Kelsey, you pick up the jewelry. Four bracelets over a wrist. The two toe rings—how Karl loves those. A change of earrings: emeralds, you decide. You wish you had time to do nails and makeup better, but Karl thinks you're halfway back to town by this point. So you buckle on sandals, stroke your legs to reassure yourself that there's no stubble, and pick up your purse and sunglasses.<br/>
<br/>
Connor is just outside the door, and he jumps a little as you yank it open. "Have some trouble figuring things out?"<br/>
<br/>
"Do I <i>look</i> like I had any trouble? Come on, I have to drop you off at the school with Caleb, and he'll have to drive you out to the Donna. Karl and I'll be in Room 17, so you'll have to try to get a room right across from us." You leave him scrambling to keep up as you stride down the hall to the stairs.<br/>
<br/>
"Do they take credit cards?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." You dig inside Kelsey's purse and pull out a huge billfold. From it you extract a couple of twenties. "This should cover it for you."<br/>
<br/>
Connor chokes. "Does she just carry around that kind of—" You give him a look. "How are the memories coming?" he asks faintly.<br/>
<br/>
"Perfectly clear. Garage is this way. Oh, and last year, when you changed out Michael Trujillo's trunks at that swim party for a pair four size smaller? I'm the one who told him it was you. I mean, Kelsey's the one who told him. To get back at you for making a scene at her Christmas party."<br/>
<br/>
Connor stops at the entrance to the garage. "You remember all that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, perfectly." You put your hand on your hip and turn a freezing glance at him. "Don't just stand there, Connor. If you can't keep up what use are you?"<br/>
<br/>
He's a little pale as he jerks back to life.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey's car is a forest-green BMW coupe, only a few years old, since she was given it new near the start of her high school career. You love its close, low-to-ground cabin and the creamy interior, but sniff as though unimpressed with it all while Connor gets in gingerly. You slip on sunglasses, press the remote to open the garage door, buckle yourself in, and turn the motor over to a gentle purr. You back out, turn around, and drive out slowly onto the street. The coupe can make the trip back to town in minutes, but Kelsey drives for comfort and show, not speed.<br/>
<br/>
Connor is silent, so you hand him Kelsey's phone. "Text Caleb, tell him we're coming, so he'll have this number."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you in charge now?" Connor asks peevishly.<br/>
<br/>
"It feels natural this way, doesn't it?"</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111122111
author_id: seuzz
title: A Chronicle of Karl and Kelsey
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Essex Hills and the Donna Motor Courts are on diametrically opposite sides of Saratoga Falls, so it takes almost thirty minutes—even taking the faster back routes—to get Connor to the old elementary school and yourself to the scene of your assignation. Plenty of time to think about where you're going, who you're meeting, and what you're going to be doing.<br/>
<br/>
The relationship between Kelsey and Karl started as nothing but a summertime infatuation. There was a poetry reading at one of the coffee houses, with Karl attending as a reader and Kelsey as an audience member. She liked his poem, and the two had squeezed around a cramped table at the back when he was done, and talked while drinking coffee. Kelsey had never paid much attention to Karl before, but she liked the angles of his face under the dim lights of the cafe, and she'd liked the way his tangle of hair caught those same lights. She especially liked the way he paid close attention to her. They hadn't so much as touched that night, but a few days later she called him and invited him to meet her there again, that afternoon, to listen to some more of his poems in a private reading.<br/>
<br/>
Not many got read, not after she clasped his hand as he raised his mug, and drew it that mug to her own mouth and drank from it while eyeing him greedily over the rim. They'd held hands over the table after that. He'd been forward enough to suggest a move to a booth, and she'd followed him over and they'd sat on the same side and pushed up against each other, and she'd let him lay strong hands upon her while she groaned ardently. That afternoon she decided she wanted him, at least once, though probably no more than that.<br/>
<br/>
But where? The river was too common, with too much of a chance of being seen. She didn't want to get caught at her house, or at his. They were still making out while she pondered these possibilities. Aloud, she only said something that she meant flirtatiously: "If we were checked into a motel, we could really have some fun."<br/>
<br/>
And he'd said, "What about the Donna Motor Court?"<br/>
<br/>
That had shocked her, less because of what it sounded like he was seriously proposing—he was joking, right?—than because the Donna belonged to the father of Kim Walsh, who was a friend of hers.<br/>
<br/>
"That's where people go for that kind of thing," Karl said.<br/>
<br/>
"I figured that kind of thing would be, you know, illegal."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think it's illegal, but people disguise it. It's cheap enough to rent a room for a night, then leave before the rental's up. I hear the owners give a partial refund for the unused time. So everyone pretends it's not, you know—"<br/>
<br/>
That quashed the fun for the afternoon. But a week later, after mentally prowling the margins of what she was willing to do, and where, Kelsey had gone by the Donna, and visited with Kim, and determined that her friend probably didn't realize what was going on at her family's business.<br/>
<br/>
Two days later, in agonies of lust and second-guessing, Kelsey had revisited the Donna. Kim wasn't there. Kelsey parked in a corner, hid in a shadow, and called Karl. She made him come out and rent a room while she waited invisibly nearby. The inside was spare and smelled of disinfectant, but was clean. She was reluctant, jumpy, flighty, and in a spirit of more of terror than desire, she got onto the bed with him, undressed with him, sheathed him in a condom, and let him fuck her.<br/>
<br/>
The danger felt intense. So did the attending pleasure.<br/>
<br/>
That was in July. Two weeks passed, during which they only met in coffee shops, before she called him and asked him to set up another assignation at the Donna. Then another week passed, after which she had to comfort herself with him after the disaster of the cheerleader tryouts. A week after that, he called her, asked her for a meeting at the Donna. Thrilled at this confirmation of his interest in her, she agreed.<br/>
<br/>
Since then they've met at least once every ten days, sometimes once a week, sometimes twice. But still they pretend in school that they hardly even know each other. Karl's been smart enough not to raise the topic of whether they should be a public couple, and Kelsey's grateful for that. Karl simply would not fit alongside Geoff and Anthony and Martin and Brett and the others in her group. Besides, being a Blankenship and being supposedly available means she gets to field all sorts of competing attentions, which she greatly enjoys. And there are guys out there who if they asked her—<br/>
<br/>
Guys like Steve Patterson. It would be damned awkward if she started dating Steve while Chelsea Cooper was dating his best friend, Gordon Black. But Steve, even more so than Gordon—who's an unsocialized brute, in Kelsey's opinion—is the most desirable catch in the senior class.<br/>
<br/>
And if Steve knew that she'd been doing it with Karl Hennepin, there is no way (or so Kelsey is convinced) that he'd ask her out.<br/>
<br/>
You jerk yourself out these daydreamed reminiscences when you realize you've passed the Donna. You make a careful U-turn via a parking lot and return to make an easy right-hand turn into the parking lot. Karl's car is in the far corner, and you park on the other side of it: hidden from the street, but easy for someone in a room opposite to catch the two in a photo side by side.<br/>
<br/>
You check yourself in your phone, then get out, lock the car door, and glide gracefully to Room 17. As you raise your hand to knock, you glimpse Caleb's car pulling into the lot. You don't wave, but you do linger a moment in view so they'll know exactly where you are.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Oh, the traffic in this town," you groan after you've got Karl clasped tightly in your arms. His sweatshirt has a stink on it that Kelsey finds erotically stimulating, and you burrow your face into it. "Did you give up on me?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was starting to worry."<br/>
<br/>
"I tried taking a back way to get here faster, but there was construction, and then I couldn't get through this one light, and the traffic was horrible." You lift your head to beam at him. "I'll make it up to you. I promise. You can be on top."<br/>
<br/>
Karl cocks an eyebrow, for that's quite a concession. Kelsey insists on taking the top position—it gives her a feeling of control—but you're more interested in seeing the thing over and done with. You pull him over to the bed.<br/>
<br/>
The Donna is a very old motel, and the Walshes haven't modernized it since it was built, (though they have kept it in good repair) so it is still decorated in soft pinks and turquoises; one of the walls is painted cinderblock; and the only furniture consists of a bed and a small, low dresser. The bedspread is scratchy, and the sheets smell of detergent.<br/>
<br/>
You wriggle into the middle of the bed and let Karl clamber atop you. He looks into your face for a moment, then plunges in with open mouth for a kiss. Your tongues curl about and explore each other's hot, wet mouths. Then he goes for your neck: oh, it's tender, and you gasp in short breaths as he nips at it. You put both arms around him, clenching his tangle of soft hair in one hand and rubbing his bony spine with the other. Legs tangle, and you hike one around his waist.<br/>
<br/>
To expedite things, you pull his sweatshirt up, and it gets bunched up around his head before he sits up to strip it off. He has some definition to his chest, and Kelsey's hands go instinctively to it, to rub it while you give him appreciative moaning noises. He holds himself up with one arm and tries lifting your sweater. "No," you gasp. "Just—Oh! I want you now! Just—Skirt, down there." You fumble at the zipper and with his help get the skirt off and tossed to the floor, then wriggle out of your panties. You are now naked from the waist down.<br/>
<br/>
He sits up and reaches for his pants, but you pull him down atop yourself with a mutual "oof", and the bed bounces. As he lifts himself you grapple with his belt and the buttons of his jeans; he returns to kissing you lustily. It's a distraction, and not very stimulating, as you try blindly to get the guy out of his pants. But the buttons finally pop open, and your palm touches cotton and something large and warm inside it. Your fingertips find the opening in front, and you pull it out, and there it is in your hand: Karl Hennepin's latex-swaddled sausage.<br/>
<br/>
You choke a little in the back of your throat. Karl shifts southward, kicks violently at the bed, and gets his jeans the rest of the way off.<br/>
<br/>
Then he slows down and let you carefully guide his cock inside you. This position is a new experience for Kelsey—usually she's sliding down onto it—and, needless to say, it's new to you, too. <i>Inside inside inside,</i> the words echo stupidly in your skull. <i>I've let someone else inside me.</i> The intimacy is harrowing, it's like a union and merging, and when you release his cock you wrap your legs about him to push him in further. How different it is on this end, you're not putting him in for your pleasure, you're letting him come inside you for his, you're open to him and you're letting him—<br/>
<br/>
And then he's coming, hard and rapid. You blink and stare at the ceiling as he presses his face into the pillow beside your head and himself into you. And the funniest image forms in your head.<br/>
<br/>
His cuming, you think, reminds you of a dog—one of the small kind—going <i>bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.</i></span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111221111
author_id: seuzz
title: Dumb Boys
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Are you sure you came?" Karl asks weakly. He's curled up on the bed, and the whites of his eyes are showing.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm positive," you assure him again as you tuck your blouse into your skirt and zip it up. "It's not something you don't know happened." You twinkle at him. "Are you sure <i>you</i> came?"<br/>
<br/>
He groans and turns onto his back. You climb onto the bed and bend over his face, and kiss him. "I just have to get used to it, is all. It's different doing it the other way. Isn't it? For you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm. Thank you. That was just what I needed to get the weekend off to a rocking start. What are you going to do this weekend?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. Why, you want to get together or something?" His tone is very hopeful.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. Maybe we could run into each other? Text me if you're out someplace." You hop off the bed and go into the bathroom do a little more cleaning up. That means straightening your hair and adjusting your makeup and shaking out the clothes so they rest more comfortably on your frame. You glint and glimmer at your face when you're done. <i>You let a guy fuck you, Kelsey,</i> you tell yourself. <i>This wasn't you fucking a guy, this was you letting a guy fuck you. You've got two guys inside you, fucking you from directions.</i> You turn your head this way and that, to check that the hair falls in just the right way over your ears and neck so that the earrings are visible. <i>And it couldn't happen to a nicer girl.</i><br/>
<br/>
Out in the bedroom Karl has only just got into his jeans and is sitting on the foot of the bed. You clamber onto the bed behind him, put your arms around him, and gnaw hungrily at his neck. "If you're going to be so slow, you're going make me horny all over again."<br/>
<br/>
He lays a hand on the back of your head and pushes your face deeper into his neck. "You want to hang out, go for a second time? Or a third? Make it the start of a long weekend?"<br/>
<br/>
"Can't. Got to be home by six, and I'm hanging with my girlfriends tonight. I'd sneak you in but I think you'd look funny in a dress." You give him one last, growly kiss, then sit back to massage his shoulders. "But maybe we could stand to see a little more of each other."<br/>
<br/>
You're not sure what prompted you to say that. Maybe you were just following a thought, but it feels like something inside Kelsey was nudging you. Maybe she's thinking about taking the relationship public?<br/>
<br/>
Karl tenses under your touch, and you work at his neck and shoulders. "Tiger Driver is playing this weekend," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Who's Tiger Driver?"<br/>
<br/>
"A band. Local guys. We could go see them."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah? Where?"<br/>
<br/>
"A private place, north side of town."<br/>
<br/>
He must mean the Warehouse, and Tiger Driver could be the band that Brownie wants to take in on that date with Jessica. "What kind of music?"<br/>
<br/>
"Punk. Influenced, anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm, that's not really my thing. I like poetry readings." You put your nose into his mop of hair and inhale deeply. "Remember to text me," you say as you slap the side of his torso and hop off the bed. "I have to get going. Can we walk out together? I don't like thinking of you being here alone." You pick up your purse and dig around in for your billfold. Only after you get it out do you realize he hasn't answered you. "You wouldn't just lay here alone after I left, would you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? No."<br/>
<br/>
"You'd get another girl out here?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks shocked. "No!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just teasing. Here." You give him three twenties, which will more than pay for the room rental, and he takes it without embarrassment. "Come on, finish getting dressed before I—" But then you've lunged in and are kissing him on the neck again, and he falls back and drags you down. But after kissing him down the side of his neck and top of his shoulder and onto his chest, you get up and hurl his sweatshirt at him. "I'm serious, Karl. I let you fuck me and it was a blast, but you need to get up and we need to get out of here." So he moves much more quickly.<br/>
<br/>
You linger outside the motel room door as he closes and locks it, turning your head this way and that so it can be captured clearly in a photograph, and when Karl turns toward the office, you catch his arm and pull him in for a lingering kiss. Then as he trots to the office to return the key and get a partial refund you stroll around his car and the back of yours, leaning on the trunk to show that it's your car and that you're comfortable sitting on it. When Karl comes back, you pull him back into another tight embrace. You get into your cars, but you linger behind the wheel of yours, playing with make up and phone and checking messages. When he doesn't move, you wave him farewell, then turn the motor over on your car. He does too, and you follow him out into the street, but turn in the opposite direction. After driving half a block you turn around and return to the Donna, to park next to Caleb's car. You sit there for a moment, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel, then get out and frown at the doors opposite.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, one of them opens and Connor looks out. His grin is wide and evil. "Quite a show you put on."<br/>
<br/>
"You should have seen the one I put on inside the room. Did you get pictures?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh yeah! Come take a look."<br/>
<br/>
You let the twin of Connor's smile creep onto your own face as you follow him in.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You like the photos as you flip through them, and the video, but you don't like the way Connor keeps playing with your hair as you study them, and you tell him finally to knock it off. "You'll get a chance later."<br/>
<br/>
"Why not now? We're here, we've got a room and the afternoon—"<br/>
<br/>
"Is that all you want, a quick fuck? Don't you want it to be special?"<br/>
<br/>
"I've never been this close to Kelsey before. And you promised to—"<br/>
<br/>
"You know, I shouldn't have worn this sweater." You tap the screen. "Kelsey's going to know that she never wore it to one of her fuckfests with Karl."<br/>
<br/>
"We could restage the scene."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not doing this with Karl again."<br/>
<br/>
"We've got a mask of him. We can use that."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. That's true. We should do that."<br/>
<br/>
Connor laughs. "Which means, Will, that you just fucked Karl Hennepin for pleasure, not business."<br/>
<br/>
You turn one of Kelsey's patented freezing glares on him. But he knows who you are, and it has no effect on him. In fact, he laughs again. "It was always for pleasure, wasn't it? You knew we had that mask, you knew you didn't have to come out here and suck Karl off—"<br/>
<br/>
You grab up keys and purse and stalk to the door. "Hey, where are you going?" Connor calls after you. You've got your car door open before he catches up, but he slams it shut before you can get it. "Okay, I'm sorry I—"<br/>
<br/>
"I did it for two reasons, you fucking prick!" you yell at him with all the seething fury that Kelsey genuinely feels for Connor Hutchison. "First, I did it so you'd let Caleb get a new mask! I did it for my friend, not for you and not for me, but for him! You've been running fucking roughshod over things ever since you got your thumbs into this business, but it's my book and I should be in charge and <i>take your goddamned hands off of me!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Connor backs up and raises his hands in a placating gesture.<br/>
<br/>
"Second, it was to shut you the fuck up about getting into character!" You put your hand on your hip and turn an acidly sweet smile on him. "I think I'm doing a pretty goddamned good job of playing Kelsey Blankenship if I say so myself, a hell of a lot better than you were. Blah, blah, look at me, I got boobies!" You jab him in the breastbone with a strong finger. "I don't know what the deal is, maybe it's because it's my fucking book, but I can do it faster and better than you or Justin can. So I suggest you let me keep playing Kelsey the rest of the afternoon and tonight, long enough to get your pajama party set up, since I'll know how to do it, and <i>then</i> you can move in and go crazy without fucking anything up for us. Okay?"<br/>
<br/>
Long before you're finished Connor has gotten a huge, terrified grin on his face. But his brain and his tongue haven't seized up. "God, you're hot when you get mad."<br/>
<br/>
"Just get the fuck back over to the school with Caleb, get that new mask done. I've got a pretty good idea who we should use it on, and tonight might be the only night to get her." You shove him away from your car.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Fucking idiot,</i> you fume as you drive back to Kelsey's. <i>Asshole.</i> But you're too focused on getting business done to let it distract you. Still, your anger stays at a steady boil, like a pot on the back burner of the stove.<br/>
<br/>
You got texts while you were with Karl, including one from Caleb. It's a list of names of acceptable "play dates" for the weekend, in no particular order. Some of them—like Chelsea Cooper—would be very hard even for Kelsey to secure for him. Others, like Brooke Galloway, are probably only there because he knows Kelsey could get them so easily.<br/>
<br/>
But there are three names that stand out. One is Cindy Vredenburg. The second is Amanda Ferguson, who is Kelsey's good friend despite being as bossy as she is. The third, intriguingly, is Jenny Ashton.</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112211111
author_id: seuzz
title: Cheerleader Blues
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're inclined to use the new mask on Cindy, but before you do that you should find out what it is she wants to talk to you about. You suspect it has to do with the cheerleading squad, but you should make sure.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey's mom is home by the time you get back, and is using the massage chair to relieve the tensions from work. She's an administrator at Keyserling College, and like her daughter she has the need to run everyone's business for them and has little time or patience for fools. Kelsey likes to listen to her as she recounts the day's aggravations, to commiserate and add venomous comments of her own to her mother's tales of woe, but it looks like will be a half hour before Mrs. Blankenship is ready to rise and share, so after greeting her and getting a grunt in reply, you return to Kelsey's wing.<br/>
<br/>
With grim dispatch you fly through the unnecessary texts from people, sending short, sharp replies and making it clear you don't want to be bothered anymore tonight. On Jessica's phone, discarded nearby, is a text from Eva asking for updates to her plans. You reply that you're doing something with Kelsey, and that she (Eva) should send a text when she's done with Jeremy, in case she'd like to come over and join the little party.<br/>
<br/>
Then a text to Cindy, apologizing for being busy and asking what's up.<br/>
<br/>
It's awhile before she replies, and it's a cagey message, saying that she wants to talk about the squad. After some back-and-forth negotiating, you agree to meet her at Panera, where you can eat and talk. That'll be convenient for several reasons, including giving you a reason to ditch a meal with the parents and talk with the mother that doesn't really interest you. You only get another grunt from Mrs. Blankenship when you tell her on your way out the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
 It's almost six-thirty when you get to Panera, which means the place is starting to get crowded. You scan the crowd for familiar faces, and spot Cindy in a corner. Otherwise you recognize a handful of people from the school, but none you know socially or worry about being seen here with Cindy. In order to avoid losing the table to anyone else, you order separately at the front, and settle in to talk while waiting for the food to come.<br/>
<br/>
Conversation starts with queries about life. You pretend puzzlement that she's not with her boyfriend on this Friday night; she says he's busy but Saturday she and Seth will be getting together. She revenges herself for your indiscreet inquiry by asking about your love life; you reply that you're entertaining options but have high hopes for a few. After her soup and your salad have arrived, you sip at your green tea and with narrowed eyes ask why she wants to talk about the cheerleading squad.<br/>
<br/>
"Would you be willing to rejoin it?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Why? Is someone quitting? That new girl, what's her name?"<br/>
<br/>
"Michelle. No, no one would be quitting."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I can't join. School policy limits it to ten."<br/>
<br/>
"School policy can be changed, if the student government goes along with it."<br/>
<br/>
"I already thought about that," you snap. "The administration also has to go along with it."<br/>
<br/>
"But what if the student council voted for it <i>and</i> half the squad petitioned that the number be increased to, say, fifteen? Do you think the administration would veto it? Especially if we got the football players to lobby for it too?"<br/>
<br/>
"What good would that do? The football team is a joke anyway. If Gordon and Steve lobbied for it, maybe, but Chelsea's not going to go along with it, and as squad captain she'll lobby the administration hard against it. She'll tell them she can't be asked to manage more than she's already got."<br/>
<br/>
"But wouldn't it be worth a try? Especially if it meant <i>you</i> got to be squad captain?" Cindy's eyes glint.<br/>
<br/>
Your own eyes narrow, and you play with the plastic straw thoughtfully. Kelsey's mental machinery, already engaged by the topic, begins to hum so fast you can barely keep yourself from being carried away by her.<br/>
<br/>
"Even if we had tryouts, Chelsea would pack it with her own supporters. And it's all seniors on the squad now anyway, she'd bring in juniors and sophomores, and they'd be beholden to her."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy's creamy complexion begins to curdle. "You're saying there'd be no room on it for someone as experienced as you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea wouldn't make room."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy folds her arms. "You'd have five votes for you, Kelsey. Six including your own. Jessica and Eva would vote for you for sure, and so would Yumi and Lin and I."<br/>
<br/>
So it's out in the open now. Cindy is so desperate to get rid of Chelsea that she'll sacrifice her own ambitions to be squad captain. She'll work to get Kelsey onto the squad and will vote for her as captain.<br/>
<br/>
But you don't see a way around the fact that Chelsea would control the tryouts and hence would control voting after the expansion. In fact, she would strengthen her grip on the squad if there was an expansion. So all you can do is offer her sympathetic noises after soliciting—and receiving—a torrent of bitter complaints about the way Chelsea runs things.<br/>
<br/>
While she talks you pretend to get a text, and pretend to reply to it while actually asking Caleb when the new mask will be ready. <i>2 hours?</i> he replies. "Let me think about what you said," you tell Cindy when you're done eating. "I'm getting together with Eva and Jessica tonight, maybe a few other girls. Something very exclusive." You give her a knowing smile. "Can you come by my place around nine? We could all talk, maybe come up with some ideas?" Cindy looks relieved, and agrees.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"God, how can you stand it down here?" You make a face and cluck your tongue and run a fingertip over the rough, dirty top of a windowsill. With a shudder you rub the grime away. The elementary school basement really is disgusting.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb glares. "Kelsey, would you go outside and send Will in?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just giving you shit." Still, you can't stop yourself from flipping your hair back behind an ear and sniffing disdainfully at the scene. Caleb is bent over a metal band while Connor is perched on the corner of a desk next to him in the attitude of one who thinks that his friend can best be helped in his work by being distracted. Some discarded sacks from McDonalds are nearby, so you guess that Connor was a little more helpful earlier in the evening. "How far along are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think I'm about halfway through," says Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"Because I told Cindy to come over around nine—"<br/>
<br/>
"You already said that."<br/>
<br/>
"I want you to be clear on things. I don't want you showing up late after—Don't sigh at me like that—"<br/>
<br/>
Connor snickers. "Send the cunt away, Will," Calebs says, with even more irritation in his voice.<br/>
<br/>
He's irritating you too, and you almost snap back at him. You really are trying to keep Kelsey under control. Maybe it has to do with the face and body. The sight of Kelsey Blankenship is usually enough to put you in a bad mood, and it's probably the same for Caleb. "Is Caleb's mask all ready to go, to put on Cindy, I mean? It's got that—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it's ready," says Connor.<br/>
<br/>
"Then let me have it and your clothes," you tell Caleb. "Then I'll get out of here and leave you alone."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you need my clothes for? I'm not going to work here naked!"<br/>
<br/>
"I need them for Cindy!" That irritation flares up again, hot and quick. "Because— Connor, will you explain it to him?"<br/>
<br/>
Instead, he slaps Caleb on the shoulder. "I'll take over here, you go home and get some extra clothes. I'll entertain Kelsey while you're gone."<br/>
<br/>
You stand aside with a smile that is probably too pinched to be friendly as Caleb brushes past. "I like the whole Kelsey act," Connor says when he's gone. "Caleb doesn't."<br/>
<br/>
"So I could tell. And I can tell you get off on it." You distract him by massaging his neck and shoulders. "This is, like, your fantasy, isn't it, having Kelsey yell at you while sucking you off? Well, you know what I mean." He pauses in his work. "You have to finish that," you remind him. "I'll talk, and you work." You resume kneading his neck; he mutters something inaudible.<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy wants Kelsey back on the squad," you continue after a short pause. "Can you believe it? She wants to expand the number of girls on the squad, get enough girls onto it that she can vote Chelsea out as team captain, and she's willing to bring Kelsey back onto the squad and even vote for Kelsey if it'll get rid of Chelsea. And then, you know what? I bet Kelsey would get rid of Cindy. I bet Cindy would get rid of Kelsey in her place."<br/>
<br/>
"They're a lot of vipers, aren't they?"<br/>
<br/>
You wrap an arm around his throat and put him in a headlock. "Remember who you're talking to." You give his head a short jerk, then lean around to briefly nibble and kiss at his ear. "That's part of the fantasy too, isn't it? Being a snake charmer."<br/>
<br/>
He makes a noise halfway between a sigh and a groan. You go back to massaging him while prattling away. "Anyway, supposedly that's why she's coming over, so we can figure out a scheme to make it work. I don't see how it could. Kelsey's been over and over the same ground. She could get the school council to change policy—Kelsey's got Kim Walsh so scared she'd do anything for her—but she'd have to get the administration to go along—" You recite at length all the difficulties that would stop Cindy from getting that change in policy. "Not that it'd make any difference. Kelsey won't remember the conversation when she'd back to being herself." You snigger. "But wouldn't it be wild if she woke up and found she was captain of the cheerleader squad?"<br/>
<br/>
Connor stops his work, and half turns to you. "Yes it would, wouldn't it?</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111122111111
author_id: seuzz
title: More Girls for Everyone
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You slap Connor lightly on the side of the head. "Weren't you listening? I <i>told</i> you why it won't work."<br/>
<br/>
"You only need three things, right?" Connor says. "That student council to vote for it, and the administration to agree to it, and Chelsea to accept it."<br/>
<br/>
"You were actually listening? Wow, I'm— Look, it doesn't matter. Chelsea wouldn't go along with it, and even if she did she'd just wind up with more—"<br/>
<br/>
"But you could get the student council to vote that way. You said so yourself."<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey could, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"And if Chelsea went along with it, then the administration would cave, wouldn't they? Because you'd have the whole squad asking for it, and the student council asking for it—"<br/>
<br/>
"As long as you're daydreaming of the impossible, then yes, that's the way it would happen."<br/>
<br/>
Connor wriggles from your embrace and fixes you with a glinting smile. "So all we need to do is to, uh, get Chelsea to go along with it. Maybe even propose it herself. Or—"<br/>
<br/>
You think you know where he's going with it, even though he doesn't finish the sentence. <i>Or to get someone who </i>looks<i> just like her to propose it.</i><br/>
<br/>
You spend a long time studying his face. There's guile in the expression, but not the deep guile that suggests plans within plans. There's only the guile that suggests he's seen a neat way to scramble lots of lives.<br/>
<br/>
But you can't believe that's all there is.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you want, Connor?" you ask him. "You want to put Kelsey in as squad captain, then wake her up and show her what she's got and tell her 'I'm the one who arranged all this, don't you love me for it'? Is that what you want?"<br/>
<br/>
He turns very red, but also very impudent. He puts his hands on your hips. "I'll take what's been promised to me."<br/>
<br/>
You don't pull away, but cradle his head between your hands. "The thing is, it would take time. More than just a weekend. There's getting to Chelsea and talking to Kim and holding the vote and lobbying the administration—"<br/>
<br/>
"They're going to be confused anyway when they wake up," says Connor. "Does it matter if it's a month and not a weekend?"<br/>
<br/>
"You want to be Kelsey Blankenship for a <i>month?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Wouldn't you like to be Jessica Garner for a month?" he ripostes. <br/>
<br/>
Hmm.<br/>
<br/>
There's a bargain to be struck here, but Kelsey's instincts tell you it's a bargain that shouldn't be struck yet. Let him taste something he really wants. <i>Then</i> snap a hard bargain around him.<br/>
<br/>
"Let's just get this thing done tonight," you say. "We'll have to talk to the other two guys. But it's a neat idea." You trail your fingers through his hair, and keep him company with your voice and your arms until Caleb returns with his things.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So eager is Cindy to talk that she's almost fifteen minutes early to arrive. "You beat the other girls out here," you observe as you lead her through the foyer toward Kelsey's part of the house.<br/>
<br/>
"I was out doing other things and got done early," Cindy says. <br/>
<br/>
You smile over your shoulder at her, not believing her excuse for a second. "It's been awhile since you've been out here," you say. "You have trouble finding it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not really. I remember it from— I think it was our sophomore year?"<br/>
<br/>
"First year together on the squad," you chirp. "It was a celebration. God, that was fun. I think you were still dating Rob, weren't you?"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy murmurs an affirmative. "You still have parties out here?"<br/>
<br/>
"More like study groups," you sigh. "It's so much work, but we try to have fun. If we were in all the same classes, we'd have you and Seth over in a heartbeat." Since Cindy does share some classes with some of the people in Kelsey's group, the comment is particularly cutting.<br/>
<br/>
"I actually wrote down a few things on my computer," you continue as you enter the bedroom. "Just an outline of some of the problems I think we'd have." You point to the laptop on the desk.<br/>
<br/>
But Cindy has stopped in the doorway with her eye roaming over the interior. She's doing a good job of hiding it, but you can see her admiration and envy for it. You beam. "You like the wall?" You point to the white wall with its southwestern designs. "I've been making that myself. The rest of it, well, I'll take credit for picking it all out, but not for making it."<br/>
<br/>
"It's very tasteful," Cindy says. Then she settles her eyes on the laptop and joins you at it. With a gesture and a slight push you put her in the chair.<br/>
<br/>
The document is just a short summary of the points you made to her at Panera, so they won't occupy her long as she leans forward to study them. But they don't have to occupy her for longer than it takes to pick up the blank mask from the top of the dresser, stand behind her, and put it over her face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"This is a pretty sweet set up," Caleb honks as you lead him down the central passage of the east wing. You're getting tired of giving this little tour, and now understand why Kelsey usually prefers to buzz people in from her bedroom. But you're just paranoid enough that you want to keep these visitors out of sight of the parents.<br/>
<br/>
"So you already told me," you snap.<br/>
<br/>
"When? You've never had me out here, <i>Kelsey.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I'd have the Ebola virus out here before I had you out here, <i>Caleb.</i> You told me it was a sweet set up a few minutes after I got your mask onto Cindy. Your twin had better still be sitting on the bed. If he's masturbating into my panties drawer I'll kill you."<br/>
<br/>
The other Caleb, the one you had to entertain for twenty minutes while your friend was driving out here for the switch out, isn't jacking off, but probably that's only because you weren't gone long enough for him to get started. And as you'd feared, he's rifling through your dresser, and the closet door is open. You glare at him, but he isn't the least bit abashed when he looks up. In fact, he holds a bra up to his chest and bluntly asks, "Can I borrow this for Halloween?"<br/>
<br/>
"Give him your car keys and get him out of here," you tell the real one.<br/>
<br/>
"No, this is fun," says Caleb. He gives his doppelganger an admiring look up and down.<br/>
<br/>
"If you want him here, fine," you say with an elaborate shrug. "If you want that pervert ogling you after you've changed into Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
The two Calebs look at each other, and a blush creeps over both their faces. "Point taken," says the more recent arrival, and digs a set of keys fromhis pocket. "Have fun," he says as he tosses them to his replacement.<br/>
<br/>
"You're such a jerk," the other replies, but at another word from his original shuffles out.<br/>
<br/>
"So where's Cindy?" Caleb rubs his hands together.<br/>
<br/>
"Laid out in the bathroom for you. Don't linger. I want to talk to you, and we can do it in the spa."<br/>
<br/>
"Spa?" Caleb looks both startled and pleased.<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. Anniversary present from Dad to Mom. Not quite resort quality, but pretty dang close." You smile at him. "Two naked girls, some soft towels, and lots of steam. So don't dawdle. I'll have a mineral water waiting for you when you're ready to head out back." You close the bedroom door behind you as you go down to the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
You find Mr. Blankenship while you're downstairs, and tell him that you suddenly have plans for a couple of girls to spend the night. He just nods an acknowledgement. Kelsey's dad has almost never said "no" to her, both because it's not in his nature to constrain his daughter, and because Kelsey almost never asks for anything he can't afford or indulge. He probably wouldn't let a guy spend the night with her, but four girls? As long as he doesn't realize the girls are actually boys in disguise, he won't quibble. You also reserve the spa for the evening, which is acceptable since he and the wife will be using the home theater.<br/>
<br/>
With the help of the housemaid Jimena you lug lots of blankets and sheets and pillows out of spare closets and dump them onto the floor and bed in Kelsey's room. When Jimena is gone, you survey the space. It's a big room, but you're thinking it might be a good idea to move some of them into the rumpus room next door—where Kelsey usually hangs out with her large groups of friends—when the bathroom door opens and a face looks timidly out.<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong, Cindy?" you ask. "We're alone."<br/>
<br/>
She comes out, half-dressed in panties and a button-down shirt that's open to expose her bare boobs. The Scandinavian Cindy—with her pie-pan face; her long, straight platinum blonde hair; and her Diana-like figure—is pale all over, but it's not the fish-belly white of indoor pallor, but a muted and unmottled ivory. But her apparent fear makes her look a little more pale than she should be, and her eyes are wide.<br/>
<br/>
"Um, Connor said something about this being kind of a long impersonation?" she says cautiously. "Like, a couple of days?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe a little longer, even." You've no idea how long it will take to maneuver Kelsey to the top of the cheerleader squad.<br/>
<br/>
"That's good, because this is going to take a little getting used to."<br/>
<br/>
"You just have to relax." You stroke her face. "I'll help."<br/>
<br/>
But she takes no notice of the gesture. "Oh, and that reminds me. Connor said that you can keep playing Kelsey if you want. All the time it takes."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" That's a big surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"But there's a catch. If you keep playing Kelsey, he gets to play Karl, and you have to start dating him openly. And sucking him off regularly."</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111221111111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Talk of Two Girls
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It figures Connor would come up with that kind of scheme. He's been dying to get his skin up next to Kelsey's, and now it's clear he doesn't care that he isn't all the way inside her so long as he can get partway in. And if being Karl Hennepin is the way to do that—<br/>
<br/>
But you pause before the expression of disgust curdling your face can completely disfigure it. In getting Kelsey onto the squad you're doing her a big, fat favor. Why not pour a little sand into that chocolate sundae you're preparing for her by making her Karl's girlfriend in public? <i>Bring balance to the Force,</i> or some shit like that.<br/>
<br/>
And if you have to fuck Karl/Connor? How long and how hard would that be?<br/>
<br/>
<i>Okay, let's rephrase that,</i> you tell yourself. <i>What part of the day would have to be spent on that?</i> Thirty minutes, forty minutes? The rest of the day you'd have all of Kelsey's advantages. The money. The BMW. The house with its spa. The friends to boss around. All the other kids to boss around. The cheerleader squad (at least for a little while). <br/>
<br/>
And against that? Karl's cock. You remember the afternoon. Kelsey's personality helped out a lot there. Yes, it would be possible, if maybe just barely, to enjoy it. You might be willing to try it out.<br/>
<br/>
But "I'd have to think about it," is all you tell Cindy, who's been watching you closely all this time with an expression that shows slowly mounting incredulity.<br/>
<br/>
"Really," she says. "You'd think about it? You'd think about sucking off a guy—"<br/>
<br/>
"In return for this?" you exclaim, gesturing at the room. "Hell yes! If I have to—" You cut yourself off, though, before you can make yourself sound exactly like the kind of whore who trades sex for baubles. "It'll fuck up Kelsey's life a little," you say instead. "Think of it. When she wakes up she'll be captain of the cheerleader squad but also openly dating Karl Hennepin. Anyway," you add, "you're going to be spending a lot of time with Javits. Are you getting any of Cindy's memories yet? Any memories of Javits's cock?"<br/>
<br/>
She looks very alarmed. "Don't remind me, I'm trying not to think about it."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't think of an elephant," you tease.<br/>
<br/>
"Why not?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't think of an elephant," you repeat. "Now, what are you thinking of? An elephant, right? Now, don't think of Javits's cock."<br/>
<br/>
"Weren't you promising me something about a spa?" Your tease must have jarred something loose inside Cindy's mask, because Caleb makes a short, violent twitch.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. You should finish getting dressed. Or get all undressed. I'll go bring up some bathrobes for us. Cotton and microfibers. Oh my God!" You leave Caleb with the promise and make a trip back downstairs.<br/>
<br/>
But your friend is still in a state of skimpy half-dress when you're back upstairs with two robes: Kelsey's blue-mist bathrobe for yourself and a cobalt-colored bathrobe for Cindy. She's propped at the vanity mirror, staring at herself intently with her chin in her hand. "What are you thinking about?" you ask as you bend next to her to look in the mirror too, and start removing earrings and other jewelry.<br/>
<br/>
"Just thinking how lucky girls are to have all the parts I'd like to play with."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm." You lay the earrings onto the vanity with a clatter, and put your cheek next to hers in a quick embrace. "I don't know what we're going to do with Connor and Justin when they get here. Put them in the next room, maybe, so we can have this one to ourselves?"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy colors slightly. "Oh, that was something else. Connor was going to talk to Justin about taking over Chelsea's spot, in which case Justin wouldn't be coming out tonight. And if you're going to keep playing Kelsey—"<br/>
<br/>
"I think I will. I guess that means Connor's not coming out? It's getting to be a little late to be having another guy come over, especially since I told my parents we'd be using the spa." You frown. "I suppose I should text Eva from Jessica's phone, tell her that Jessica is spending the night here."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb looks confused. "So who'll play Jessica?"<br/>
<br/>
"No one. It's just a mask and a set of clothes. Ugh. This is getting complicated. I guess tomorrow I'll have to get together with 'Will Prescott'—" You make air quotes with your fingers "—and let Jessica go. Since I'm going to be here now."<br/>
<br/>
"So what's she going to think when she wakes up and it's Saturday and she's here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll think about it tomorrow. Why make stress before getting a spa treatment?"<br/>
<br/>
You've been unbuttoning your shirt and unzipping your skirt while talking, and now you slip them off and toss them into a hamper, leaving yourself exposed in panties and bra. These you also slip off; with a tremulous swallow, Cindy does the same. You then help her into her robe, wrap yourself in yours, and fetch some light sandals from the closet for each of you. Then it's down to the spa.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The spa is behind the house, separated from the back patio and a strip of yard by a tall row of boxwood hedges pierced by a wooden gate; electric Chinese lanterns illuminate the exterior. "We have to be careful about talking," you warn your companion as you unlock the door. "There are intercoms all over the place, and sometimes I think—or Kelsey thinks—they get stuck 'on'. But if we keep our voices down, snuggle close—" You grip her arm. A shiver runs through her, and she grips you back.<br/>
<br/>
Immediately inside is a small, rustic-decorated sitting room in knotty pine with two small sofas facing each other in front of a gas fireplace. "There's the kitchenette over there, in case we get hungry," you gesture. "But I'm not sure it's been restocked lately.<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't you promise me a mineral water?"<br/>
<br/>
You snap your fingers. "Forgot. Let's see if—" You cross over to the refrigerator and look inside. "Oh, here's one for you. And one for me." You twist off the caps, make a short toast with Cindy, and drink while twinkling at each other.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, massage room is in there, but the masseur obviously isn't here," you continue, pointing to various doors as you lead her into the back. "Chromotherapy tub in there. And in here—" You open the door at very end with a flourish. "Sauna on one side, steam room on the other." You turn on the controls for the former and set a timer. "It'll be about forty-five minutes before it's ready to go, but we've got all night." You lead her back to the sitting room and light the fireplace. You sit opposite each other on the sofas with your drinks. You look her up and down, from her pale blue eyes to her swelling bosom to the firm calves and feet peeking out from the bottom of the robes. She gives you the same open once-over.<br/>
<br/>
"What did Connor tell you about the plans for the cheerleader squad?" you ask. "What do you remember from our talk at Panera?"<br/>
<br/>
"I remember Panera," Cindy says after her eyes go distant. "I remember we talked, but the details are kind of hard for me to place. I just put this thing on a little while ago, you know."<br/>
<br/>
You don't say anything about how much faster it is for you to get used to a mask. Instead, you recapitulate what you talked about with Connor and with Cindy. "The idea is that I get back onto the cheerleader squad, and that Chelsea quits as team captain and that I become captain instead. I guess that's where Justin comes in, since Chelsea's not going anywhere unless she's pushed."<br/>
<br/>
"And Justin's going to be okay with that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why wouldn't he? Well, I guess we'll talk," you say when Cindy continues to look skeptical. "After that, I'll get Kim to make a proposal in the student council, increasing the number of cheerleaders to fifteen. That'll give Kelsey a solid base for after Chelsea is, you know, back to herself."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Cindy says slowly, and you see the light of recognition slowly dawning in her eye. "But how will we get you onto the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"Get Chelsea to fire somebody. The new girl, probably. Michelle, that's her name? That'll cut Chelsea's bloc down to four, then I'll come in, that'll give us six if you make sure that Lin and Yumi vote with me and Jessica and Eva. And you, of course."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course." But her gaze continues distant. "How long do I stick around as—" She splays a hand over her breast.<br/>
<br/>
"At least until I'm squad captain. I should stick it out until we get the new girls onto the squad, but you can bug out early if you want. But do you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. I'm getting the impression Cindy is all over Javits. I'd rather be on the other end of things if I'm going to be in this relationship."<br/>
<br/>
"And hang out with Gordon and Steve?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ick. Maybe not."<br/>
<br/>
That's far off in the future, and it's better to keep to girl talk, if for no other reason than to work at the memories in Cindy's mask. So you talk about the Garners, and about Yumi and Lin, and Michelle, and Chelsea and her friends; about Kelsey's friends; about the sports teams. Time passes quickly, and then a bell rings you take Cindy back to the sauna, where the hot air is quivering and quaking. You spread towels on the wooden benches and remove your robes and sit down, exposing slim bodies to the dry heat. Sweat springs out from every pore.<br/>
<br/>
You are both silent for a minute. You are on the point of laying a palm on Cindy's thigh, to brush away the moisture when the door opens. Mrs. Blankenship, in a terrycloth robe, comes in. "Don't let me bother you girls," she says as you both scramble up to cover yourselves. "I'm just here for one session and then I'll leave you alone." She sits down heavily, leans back, and closes her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
But you don't dare touch Cindy now.</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112211111111
author_id: seuzz
title: Night Action
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The first, "dry" session in the sauna passes without conversation, since you don't feel free to speak in front of Mrs. Blankenship. She leaves after fifteen minutes, and after you hear the shower outside run and shut off, you and Cindy also exit for a cool-down. Kelsey's mother has gone, but the reminder that you could be interrupted or espied at any moment keeps you both careful. You take quick, cool showers, dry off and don your robes, and return to the sitting room—also deserted—for a bit, and resume talking about school stuff. You curb Kelsey's tendency to dominate talk in preference for drawing out Cindy, questioning her about her home, her parents, her family, her history. It's a dry recital of facts, but it comes out fluidly, so you guess that Caleb is getting more comfortable inside the mask.<br/>
<br/>
When you've cooled off sufficiently you return to the sauna for a "wet" session, pouring water over the heated rocks to release a cloud of steam. You get naked again, and the heat and the wet penetrate you through and through, leaving you feeling limp. But still you keep your hands off each other. "We'll do this Monday after school," you gasp near the end, when you can hardly restrain yourself anymore. "My parents will be out, it'll just be us."<br/>
<br/>
Another shower, and you turn everything off. After warming and drying in front of the fire you return to Kelsey's digs.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
In the bedroom you find a series of texts on your phone, of mounting impatience, from Connor. He wants you to meet him and Justin at Starbucks to talk about things. So after dressing again you drive yourself and Cindy out for the meeting.<br/>
<br/>
Justin stares, his mouth slightly ajar, as you come in, smiling with sweet excitement at him and Connor. The place is almost dead, and the two guys are sitting at a table in a corner while their colleagues start to clean and close up. "Sorry we're late," you say smugly. "Cindy and I were using the sauna. Together. Just the two of us. Naked."<br/>
<br/>
Justin's jaw slackens a bit, then he gulps.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's this meeting about?" you ask. "Getting a mask of Chelsea Cooper for Justin?"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you going to keep Kelsey's mask for yourself?" Connor asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh right. So I guess we need to get you and Karl swapped out." You dimple at him. Connor draws a ragged breath. "We can do that tomorrow afternoon at the Donna. I'll text you details." You turn to Justin. "As for Chelsea— You're interested in Chelsea, aren't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is she still going with Gordon Black?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. Is that a problem?"<br/>
<br/>
"How long would I be, you know? I mean, I want to be there long enough, but not so long I have to, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to fuck him, Justin. Just fuck <i>with</i> him. From what I hear—" You relish the way Justin is turning very red. "From what I hear she has him jumping through all kinds of hoops."<br/>
<br/>
He blinks rapidly, and leans forward. "Uh— So tell me exactly what we're trying to do here."<br/>
<br/>
You recap the plot and how you're going to do it. "So you see, we have to get Chelsea out of the way—"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I get that. But how long would all that take?"<br/>
<br/>
"The whole scheme, or just Chelsea's part? The whole thing might take a couple of weeks, but we could probably be done with Chelsea in a day or two. Why? If it's Gordon—"<br/>
<br/>
"I'd just rather do all this as Kendra," Justin blurts out.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Justin wants to be a black girl?</i> You gasp, and can't stifle a peal of laughter. "I'm sorry," you say, but are still laughing as Justin turns cherry red. "You can do whatever. I'm just thinking— Never mind. But it has to be Chelsea. Kendra can't—"<br/>
<br/>
"What about after?"<br/>
<br/>
The question makes no sense, so you can only echo Justin's query: "After?"<br/>
<br/>
Connor and Justin look at each other, then look back at you. "How long were you going to play Kelsey?"<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, a couple of weeks." <i>Maybe a lot less,</i> you add to yourself, <i>if Connor will be playing Karl.</i><br/>
<br/>
"What were you going to do after that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Go back to being myself? I wasn't thinking that— Uh—"<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach sinks and your heart beats fast. <i>Did Connor and Justin think you might want to become Kelsey permanently?<br/>
<br/>
And would that be a bad thing?</i><br/>
<br/>
"You were going to fix things up for Kelsey," says Connor. "Maybe there are other people you wanted to fix things up for? Maybe we'd like to fix things up for, after we help you with Kelsey?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like who?" Cindy asks.<br/>
<br/>
"The question is," says Justin, "is this this a one-time thing, or are we going to be doing more of this? With maybe more people?" He shrugs meaningfully. "Maybe with people where Kendra might—?"<br/>
<br/>
Well, this <i>is</i> a question, and not one that had occurred to you. There's nothing to stop you from jumping around from one body to the next during your otherwise pointless career as a high school senior.<br/>
<br/>
"Who do you think needs help?" Cindy asks. "Who do you think needs fixing up? Kendra? Or who is it that Kendra could—?"<br/>
<br/>
Justin mutters something that sounds like "Never mind."<br/>
<br/>
A pregnant silence settles on the table. "You really want back in high school, don't you?" Cindy says at last.<br/>
<br/>
Connor lowers his head and says nothing. So you speak: "Well, if it were up to me—"<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't it?" Connor says. "You keep saying it's your book and you should be in charge."<br/>
<br/>
You feel yourself turning a little pink, but ignore the remark. "Where is the book, anyway? We should look at the next spell."<br/>
<br/>
"It's back at the school, and it won't do any good."<br/>
<br/>
"Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll show you tomorrow, when we meet. You're getting together with Karl, remember?"<br/>
<br/>
"I won't forget. And Chelsea?" You look at Justin. He nods, curtly. "I'll try to get her out to my place for a switch tomorrow afternoon."<br/>
<br/>
Plans are made, and you and Cindy return to Kelsey's soon after.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"What did you say?"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy takes her mouth from your nipple long enough to repeat it: "I wish we could've done this in the sauna."<br/>
<br/>
"Me too." You rub ardent fingertips into the small of her back. "God, it was killing me, sitting next to you, sweating, and I couldn't—"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy's fingers go into your clit, and you twitch and gasp. You slide a hand under her hair to grip the back of her neck. Every spot where her naked skin touches yours it burns like a rash, but in a wonderful way.<br/>
<br/>
It's dark in the bedroom, and the door is locked, and there is most of an empty house between you and everyone else. You've also closed the outer door to Kelsey's suite of rooms and left a hall light on, so that it will look like you're staying up late for girl talk rather than bodily exploration and despoliation.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey has never had a lesbian experience, and after some thought Cindy has also confessed to never experimenting that way. So kissing and playing with Cindy this way has fractured your consciousness in ways that aren't entirely pleasant. The best part is touching and fondling and violating Cindy Vredenburg. She is one of the most delectable creatures at Westside, and to have her naked body under your palms and inside your arms and against your mouth—<br/>
<br/>
You pull her head back gently by the hair and wiggle down so you can cover her mouth with yours. Hot saliva drips onto your tongue and rolls over your lips and splashes onto your skin. Her tongue is like a living organism wriggling frantically against yours.<br/>
<br/>
The thrill of having Cindy Vredenburg naked and vulnerable and giving of herself to you this way is of unutterable delight, even if you know deep down that it's only a facsimile being worn by your best friend.<br/>
<br/>
Less charged is the pleasure you are getting inside Kelsey's body. Sure, you're getting stimulated back, and your friend seems very keen on going down and pleasuring you below. But you miss—<br/>
<br/>
Well, the fact is that <i>Kelsey</i> misses the hard, hot, thrusting sensation of a cock. Compared to that, Cindy's fingers are a flabby, wriggling, hapless counterfeit.<br/>
<br/>
And Kelsey's desire to have a cock inside you <i>really</i> bothers Will Prescott.<br/>
<br/>
So the complexion of the night shifts as it wears on, between flushing pleasure and blows of mortification, like the way Cindy's hot, enveloping breath evaporates with a chill when she moves her face. You never cum, but you pull her closer and closer into tighter embraces, until you fall asleep when you're not paying attention.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You wake around ten and wake Cindy too, for there are things you have to do. You take a light and seemingly leisurely breakfast downstairs, chatting with the parents but waiting impatiently for them to leave for the day's chores. As soon as they begin to move, you send Cindy out to pick up the fake Will Prescott. The house is yours—and the sauna is heated—by the time they get back. You get your double changed into a towel and into the sauna, where you take the mask off Jessica. <br/>
<br/>
You really hope that Connor was right that the victim won't remember anything on reviving.</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111122111111111
author_id: seuzz
title: A New Boyfriend
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Jessica, to your great relief, remembers nothing since Friday afternoon. She is very confused after she's woken and you've teased her about how one shouldn't fall asleep in a sauna. But she plays along as you prattle about how much fun Friday night was, and how she needs to bring Eva along next time.<br/>
<br/>
But you've got two people to meet: Your texts to Karl and Chelsea both got positive responses, and you're set to meet each of them today. So you wrap the sauna session up quickly and drive her back home.<br/>
<br/>
You've a deadline if you're going to meet Karl before Chelsea: Connor has to go in to Starbucks at two o'clock. So back at the house you pack some cold chicken, pickles, deviled eggs, and cold drinks into a basket, then text Karl: <i>picnic at donna, my treat.</i> He replies with, <i>mmm makes me hungry.</i> At least he has the sense not to add "and horny." You text Connor an alert; he replies with a double-check that you're bringing the stuff you need to bring. <i>i'm not an idiot,</i> you retort.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Both boys beat you there—<i>God, they must be so excited</i>—and their cars are parked opposite each other. This is a vexation, since Connor will have the supplies you need to use on Karl, and you can't just go knocking at his door lest Karl spot you. So you shoot Connor a text, telling him to meet you at the office for the handoff.<br/>
<br/>
You've got your back to the motel office door when Connor comes racing out with a plastic sack, and you quickly exchange the bag in your hand for the one in his. "Everything in there?" he asks again as you hand a him back containing a disassembled copy of yourself.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, Connor," you say through gritted teeth. "Mask of Will Prescott, clothes, everything."<br/>
<br/>
"Good. While you're with Karl, I'll take him home."<br/>
<br/>
"That won't work," you say even as Connor turns to sprint back to his room. "His truck is at my place."<br/>
<br/>
"What's it doing there?"<br/>
<br/>
"He drove out there when I called him?" you say with elaborately feigned patience. "To get the mask off Jessica? And then since she didn't have a car there I had to drive her home? So there was no one to drive my old truck—?"<br/>
<br/>
"So what do we do with him while we're, you know?" He winks meaningfully.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess we don't, you know." You wink meaningfully. "Not this afternoon. I'll make it quick with Karl, then I'll drive 'Will' back to my place so he can get his truck. I have to meet Chelsea anyway."<br/>
<br/>
Connor looks like he wants to argue, but you cut him off with the reminder that he's got a naked girl back in that motel room he rented.<br/>
<br/>
What naked girl? Well, all this complication is because you're having to move masks around. A mask needs to go onto Karl while Connor is playing his role; and though it could be your mask that goes onto him—that mask is now available since you took it off Jessica—Connor wants it to be his mask. "It'll be easier to keep track of things that way," he said. "We'll move the mask of me onto Karl, and put your mask onto Kelsey." So there is, right now, an unconscious and naked Kelsey Blankenship in Connor's room, and he has to get back there to get your mask onto her before she wakes up. <br/>
<br/>
That leaves you clutching a bag containing his mask and clothes. It's a good thing Kelsey has a brain for detail and organization, or else it might be too confusing for you.<br/>
<br/>
Karl is already naked when you walk into the room he's rented. "Oh God." You flinch and cover your eyes, for he's splayed out on the bed with four long limbs—and one shorter one—stretched out and up.<br/>
<br/>
He grins. "Thought maybe you'd wanna picnic off me."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm, you do look delicious," you lie, and fight back a little bile. "In fact, you look so yummy—Let's eat later." You pull off your skirt and panties without even bothering to take off your sandals, and clamber atop him. You drop the bags with food and supplies next to his head and tickle his cock with your bush.<br/>
<br/>
"We could try fucking and eating at the same time," Karl suggests. "That could be fun."<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds complicated, and I want you all to myself. And I brought along a toy I want to try out." You pull the mask from the bag, grateful that Karl's dumb male horniness means he'll swallow any line. "It's for, like, what is it called? Erotic asphyxiation?"<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" He sounds lukewarm as he gazes up at the mask. That expression changes to intense puzzlement—tinged slightly with fear—as he stares at it. "It's got my name in it."<br/>
<br/>
"I personalized it for you when I had it made. See, you put it on like—"<br/>
<br/>
And it sinks into him, to record his most recent memories so that Connor will be all up to speed. While he's out, you unpack Connor's mask and clothes from the bag and put your discarded clothes back on. All that takes no time at all, which gives you plenty of time to study the naked form of Karl Hennepin.<br/>
<br/>
He's tall, but well-shaped and proportioned. Does he secretly work out? He doesn't have <i>muscles</i> to speak of, but there is some definition at his chest and on his stomach. His legs are shapely. The idea of "eating" off him is gross, though, for he has a matt of hair over his chest.<br/>
<br/>
And yet you feel the pull of Kelsey's own attraction for him. It might not be the body of an athlete, but he has strength and agility, coupled with the mind of a poet and the insouciance of a mild rebel. He's also staunchly left-wing, much to Kelsey's satisfaction. (She might be rich, but her values are those of the colleges she means to attend, within the limits of enlightened self-interest.) There's really no reason to be ashamed of dating him openly.<br/>
<br/>
Except that he's just a little too raffish, a little too much of the poet, and a little too easy to push around. He's a little too obviously a pet and not an equal. It doesn't help that his hair, after it's been cut, makes him look a little too much like a poodle.<br/>
<br/>
But when you put your fingers under skirt to touch yourself, you find you've aroused yourself more than you thought you had. A soft jolt runs through you.<br/>
<br/>
The mask appears with a glow onto Karl's face, and you carefully lift it off and replace it with Connor's. The new guy is much scrawnier and to Kelsey's eye much less impressive. "Get up and get dressed," you tell the minion.<br/>
<br/>
It just sits up on its elbows and peers nearsightedly around. "So this is where we're going to be doing it," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean by 'we'?"<br/>
<br/>
"You and me. Doing it. That's the agreement, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"What agreement? What has Connor been telling you?" Fear and peevishness vie for dominance in your breast. "I didn't sign up for any sex acts with a minion."<br/>
<br/>
Minion-Connor sags. "Oh, that's right," it says. "Rub it in. I'm not a real little boy, according to everyone. Except I sure feel real," it grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
You whip out your phone and text Connor. <i>get here and get rid of this thing.</i> Through the crack in the curtains at the windows you see Connor bolting across the parking lot only seconds after you hit Send.<br/>
<br/>
He bursts in with a gasp. "About fucking time," he says. "You're driving me crazy over there, Will."<br/>
<br/>
"What am I doing? Never mind, tell your own minion to get ready." You gesture at the thing on the bed behind you.<br/>
<br/>
Connor visibly winces at the sight of his naked second self, and gruffly orders it to get dressed and go home. "Can I get a refund on the room," it asks as Connor tosses it his wallet, keys and phone.<br/>
<br/>
"I can cover those costs," you reply on Connor's behalf. "Just get out of here."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe I should feel insulted at the way you're talking to me over there," Connor says.<br/>
<br/>
"There's a mask waiting for you on the bed," you retort. "Put it on, and maybe I'll talk to you another way." Connor's eyes light up, and he bounds over. He's got his own clothes off before the minion can get out the door. But after a few minutes you're again alone with the unconscious, naked form of Karl Hennepin.<br/>
<br/>
Now you check your texts. The ones from Amanda and Brooke and others in the AP club are starting to pile up, but you concentrate on the one from Chelsea: <i>meet later, tonight instead?</i> You chew your lip over the query.<br/>
<br/>
It was astonishing that Chelsea Cooper—who hates Kelsey, and the feeling the mutual—would agree to a private meeting at the Blankenship home at such short notice, and you're not sure if you should accommodate this request. It might be Chelsea looking for an excuse to cancel outright if you don't accede; or it might be a passive-aggressive attempt to delay a meeting until it cancels itself. <br/>
<br/>
You're still pondering this when the figure on the bed stirs, and the new Karl Hennepin raises his head. "Hey," he says groggily.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey."<br/>
<br/>
He rubs his face. "Is there anything I need to know? Before the mask starts working?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. Maybe you should do some deep concentrating, try to kickstart it in case you need to leave soon."<br/>
<br/>
"I hope I don't." He cranes his neck. "What's in the other bag?"<br/>
<br/>
"Lunch. For a picnic."<br/>
<br/>
He sits up. "Sounds good to me."<br/>
<br/>
"I have to get Will Prescott back to his truck."<br/>
<br/>
"Can't you tell him to just wait over there?" Karl asks as he paws through the sack. "You've paid for the room until noon tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
So you have. And Chelsea wants a delay anyway. But how would you fill the time until then? You're sure the new Karl would have some ideas.<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111221111111112
author_id: seuzz
title: Cheerleaders Three
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I need to meet Chelsea," you tell Connor. "You brought Justin's things along too, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," he says. "Can I at least take the food?"<br/>
<br/>
"Knock yourself out." You're bent over the phone, tapping furiously. <i>later is ok but i have the sauna and facials warmed up.</i>  Chelsea's reply to that, you think, will tell you how serious she is about delaying things.<br/>
<br/>
That done, you lean back to watch your new boyfriend—<br/>
<br/>
That's right. He's your new boyfriend. A shiver that combines your antipathy and Kelsey's ambivalence ripples through you. Part of the deal with Connor is that you take the Kelsey-Karl relationship public, which means public displays of affection at school and all the rest. You're going to have to talk him up with Kelsey's friends, too.<br/>
<br/>
On the bright side, that should screw her up socially, which will balance what you're doing for her for the cheerleader squad.<br/>
<br/>
As you muse, Karl pulls on dark underwear, ripped jeans, a rumpled t-shirt and a stained pullover, and his socks and shoes. Then he goes into the bathroom. "Huh," his voice floats back. "Yeah, I remember this dipshit now."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you remember about him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just seeing him around. Shirt smells like he smokes some good stuff."<br/>
<br/>
"Where does he get it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who, Karl? Give me a moment. Mm, no it's not— Wait. Oh yeah. Gary Chen. Eesh."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, no thanks, I think we'll stick to our supplier."<br/>
<br/>
Karl reappears. "Kelsey smokes pot?"<br/>
<br/>
"All the AP cunts do. Every Saturday night, at Kelsey's place, no less. Except tonight, Kelsey already canceled tonight's party because she has to go out with her folks. Anyway, you'll fit right in, once you start coming over."<br/>
<br/>
"That's right." He moves swiftly to your side and pulls you to your feet. "We're gonna start—"<br/>
<br/>
Your phone dings, and you brush him back to check it. "Yeah, we're gonna start, but not this afternoon," you tell him as you read the text. "Chelsea says our meeting's still on. I knew the bitch couldn't resist the idea of an afternoon in the sauna. Tell Justin he can come over to Kelsey's as soon as he's off work, I'll have Chelsea waiting for him. Is his stuff in the other room?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." Karl rubs your shoulders. "You sure we don't have time to—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nope. How about we meet to study on Sunday? We can flirt then."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to flirt, I want to—"<br/>
<br/>
"I know what you want, but you know what Justin wants." You go up on tiptoes to tease him with a kiss. "Now go check us out, get a refund, and I'll get everything else together."<br/>
<br/>
It takes no time to get out of the motel, since you only have to collect a rather surly Will Prescott from the other room. His talk on the way back to Kelsey's house is whiney and complaining. "Nice car," he says. "You like driving it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh."<br/>
<br/>
"I bet I'd like driving it."<br/>
<br/>
"I know you would, because I'm having fun driving it."<br/>
<br/>
He glares at you in a sidelong way. "Are you getting laid? Are you taking it up the ass from those guys?"<br/>
<br/>
That's when you tell him to stop talking, and when you pull up at the house you send him smartly home. As he drives off, you are shooting out texts to prepare for the next phase in the afternoon.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The sauna is still warming up when the doorbell rings. You saw Chelsea pull up from your bedroom window, but you're not going to pay her the courtesy of opening the door yourself when you can humiliate her by opening it remotely. "Hey there," you chirp into the intercom by the bed, and press the button that unlocks the front door below. "Door's open to you, come on in. I'll be down in a sec."<br/>
<br/>
But you take your time primping in the mirror, getting your hair right and the lines on your skirt and blouse straight, and turning this way and that to admire your firm, tanned calves and shapely butt.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry I couldn't get here quicker," you say as come into the foyer where your nemesis is waiting. "I was on the other side of the house, and sometimes it takes longer than you think."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea puts on a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "No problem, and thanks for the invite. Is there anyone else coming?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, maybe, it depends. This way." You steer her through a large sitting room, and a small game room, and a private solarium instead of taking the direct route through the back door. It also means you get to show her the gardens behind the west wing on your way to the sauna. You don't point any of this out to her though, as you keep talking. "I might ask some people out later, but I wanted to start with you, talk with you."<br/>
<br/>
"About what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Things. You know why I quit the squad, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I never understood that." Her voice is very cool and collected. "I thought it was really important to you, and I never thought of you as a quitter."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not a quitter, but the squad is important to the school, it's so important to school spirit, and if it got demoralized—"<br/>
<br/>
You have to take a deep breath; you are so dazzled by this idea you've suddenly had about what to say.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, Chelsea," you say, "I know we've never gotten along and I'm sure I've done some shit things in my time, but I really wanted what was best for the squad. And I knew that if we stayed on it together that, well, things might not be as smooth as they should be." You open the gate in the box hedge to let her in. "There can only be one squad captain, and when I realized it was going to be you I just thought it best to get out of your way for the sake of the squad."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea looks at you as you close the gate behind. "That's really generous of you, Kelsey," she says in a way that is very polite but which still conveys that you're a lying whore. "No, I didn't know that's why you quit."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it was. So how are things going on the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"They're excellent." She falls in behind you as you lead her to the spa cabin.<br/>
<br/>
"Because I was sure that if I didn't make trouble by staying on, Cindy would." You open the door, but turn in surprise since Chelsea has stopped dead on the gravel path. "Is she causing trouble for you?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea stares at you hard, then stiffly follows you into the sitting room. "Just the usual sort of trouble that she would make."<br/>
<br/>
"That's what I mean. She's snake, Chelsea, and you need to kick her off the squad."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea actually sways on her feet, and for a moment you think she's going to faint. "What have you been hearing?" she squeaks, and fear shows in her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"I've been hearing enough. I still have friends on the squad, you know. I won't lie, Chelsea, they tell me stories about you and the way you run the team, but I've told them they need to shut up and do what you tell them. It's for the good of the squad. But they've also have been telling me about Cindy, and it's got me so steamed— Oh, here, you'll want to change into this." You pick up the robe you'd set out for her.<br/>
<br/>
But she doesn't take it. "What have you heard?"<br/>
<br/>
"Let's talk about it while relaxing. It'll help get the tensions out. We've got some facial chairs we can sit in before hitting the sauna. I'll do you first."<br/>
<br/>
The facial room is the same as contains the chromotherapy tub, and you explain the latter to her in lieu of continuing the squad gossip while the pair of you strip and put on robes. You've Kelsey's memories of Chelsea's bare body from their time as juniors and sophomores in the locker rooms, but you still salivate to see her in the flesh. She is small and rounded all over, with strong thighs, a firm butt, and breasts that are, literally, like melons. She is golden all over from the summer sun still, with no visible bikini lines, and her blonde hair falls in cascades around her shoulders.<br/>
<br/>
You put her in one of the three facial chairs, and she looks up with alert curiosity as you pick up a bluish mask from a nearby counter. "This is a kind of weight pack," you tell her. "You let it rest on your face and it relaxes the muscles. After you're relaxed, we'll break out the oils." It's a bullshit story, but she accepts it and closes her eyes as you lower the blank mask onto her.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Oh God, I'm sweating like a pig," Chelsea moans. "Oink oink, I'm rendering in my own fat." She writhes on the sauna bench.<br/>
<br/>
"Then it's time to cool off," you reply. "And does Chelsea talk that way? About sweating like a pig?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck if I know," replies the Chelsea-disguised Justin Carr. "Caleb," she says, addressing your other companion, though he's still looking like Cindy. "Does Chelsea talk this way?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't talk to her more than I can help."<br/>
<br/>
"It still feels fucking good, this. No, I'm not ready to cool down yet." With another groan, she puts her fingers to her pussy. "Is it just me, or was Chelsea horny when you copied her?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. But maybe she had plans. She wanted to put off coming over."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's expression continues ardent and pinched as she rubs herself. You lay back down next to her. You think you can take it in the room only another five minutes.<br/>
<br/>
Then Chelsea bolts up. "Gordon," she gasps. "She was going to meet Gordon! Oh thank God she changed her mind, she was going to meet him in the gym loft for a fuck." She gasps again, and slaps at Cindy. "It was about you, too."<br/>
<br/>
"About me?" Cindy squeaks.<br/>
<br/>
"She's trying to break you and Seth Javits up."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy glances at you with a hopeful expression. "Sounds like a good idea to me."</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112211111111122
author_id: seuzz
title: The Anti-Matchmakers
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Naturally Caleb would like to see Cindy and Seth Javits broken up—it would be nicer for him while he's playing Cindy's part. But you want to know what all this is about.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea is trying to break up Cindy and Seth Javits," Justin says, and it's odd to hear Chelsea refer to herself in the third person. "I don't know why. She doesn't like Cindy?" She gives the Cindy-disguised Caleb a brief, dark glance, like it might be her fault. "Anyway, Chelsea was going to get together with Gordon at the school, up in that loft, and they were going to, you know. It was part of her plan to break them up. Cindy and Seth, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"How does that break up Seth and Cindy?"<br/>
<br/>
"She was going to ask Gordon to do it for her," Chelsea says in a sudden, breathless rush, as though the idea has just occurred to her—or, more likely, because the actor beneath the mask has just "remembered." "She was going to get Gordon and Steve to force Seth to break up with Cindy. Threaten to kick him off the basketball squad, make his life hell, you know. The usual asshole-jock thing. Then Seth would break up with Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"Why does she want to break them up?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Does it matter?" Cindy asks. "I say it's a great idea."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe she hates Cindy?" Chelsea says again.<br/>
<br/>
"That's a given," you say. "But it's a really horrible thing for her to— How would Cindy act if Seth suddenly broke up with her," you ask Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"Turn handsprings," she instantly replies.<br/>
<br/>
"Not <i>you,</i> you dope. I mean the real girl, how would she react?"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy shrugs. "She'd be really upset."<br/>
<br/>
"Would she quit the squad?" You turn to Chelsea. "Is that what this is about, making Cindy so upset she quits the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's shrug is almost identical to Cindy's. "Maybe."<br/>
<br/>
"What does it matter?" says Cindy. "If they break up—"<br/>
<br/>
"I get that you don't want to get close to Javits's cock," you snort. "Hell, pick a fight with him if you want so you don't even have to deal with him. Make him miserable, I don't care. You only have to play Cindy for a few days, a week at the most, so stop your bitching. The question is, do we want to see Cindy and Seth broken up?"<br/>
<br/>
Your question is met with silence. It's Caleb who finally asks the obvious question: "Why do we care?"<br/>
<br/>
The heat of the sauna is now overpowering, so without answering you quit the sauna for a lukewarm shower. Cindy and Chelsea follow. After you've all dried off—sponging at each other, even, a little—your trio returns to the sitting room, wrapped in robes.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't even know why we're doing all this," you confess when you're all seated. "Except that it's fun to fuck with people. I mean, we're having fun being them, right? But we can also arrange it so that things are, you know, better for them when they're back. Kelsey would <i>so love</i> being captain of the cheerleader squad, so when we're done with her, that's what she'll be. Karl gets to have Kelsey as his girlfriend—"<br/>
<br/>
"Is she going to stay his girlfriend?" Cindy asks. "What's to keep her from dumping him?"<br/>
<br/>
"They're already dating, just in secret, because Kelsey's a cunt. But I was going to say that breaking up Cindy and Seth wouldn't be 'making things better'."<br/>
<br/>
"But knocking Chelsea off as squad captain would?"<br/>
<br/>
"It would make things better for lots of people," you retort. "Maybe we could break up Chelsea and Gordon, find her a better boyfriend. Someone who's not a psycho."<br/>
<br/>
"She's a psycho," Cindy mutters. "They fit each other perfectly."<br/>
<br/>
You ignore the interruption. "We could do the same thing for Cindy. She's a cunt, but she's not a horrible human being. We could put her together with someone better than Javits." You shudder. Seth Javits is another one of the psycho basketball players, and he has it in especially for your friend Keith. "So you could break up with Seth and then try seducing someone new—"<br/>
<br/>
"No thanks," Cindy crisply declares. "I'll just try to get through the next few days."<br/>
<br/>
"You say that like you're not having fun being Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I am," she protests. "I had a lot of fun last night." She glances between you and Chelsea with a secret smile, and draws her knees up to her chin. "We need to do that again as soon as possible, the three of us. But I'm just thinking about Javits. That's the part I'm dreading."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck with him," you advise. "Be a cock tease. You've got the power." You stroke the fold of cloth that covers your pussy in a meaningful way.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your little fake-hen party breaks up by late afternoon with nothing decided. Normally you would then start preparing for the regular Saturday night party, but the Blankenship family has social plans for the evening: a nice dinner out followed by a night at the theater.<br/>
<br/>
All the time in the sauna has left you feeling wrung out and thoroughly detoxed, and you replenish yourself in the late afternoon with a bath. You lotion and powder yourself all over after that, and spend a very long time putting on makeup and different kinds of jewelry and different ensembles, to judge the effect. You finally settle on a comparatively simple look consisting of navy-blue slacks, turquoise shirt, and dark boots. Your one concession to extravagance is a large silver necklace containing a pink beryl of subdued hue. You meet the parents in the foyer—Dad in a suit and Mom in an emerald-green dress. You and she enthuse over each other's choices while Mr. Blankenship clearly daydreams to himself. Then it's into the family's BMW sedan.<br/>
<br/>
You eat at Ristorante Locarno, an extremely expensive and tony Mediterranean restaurant, where you recognize the server—by name and resemblance—as the mother of one of your classmates: Andrea Varnsworth. She—Andrea, not her mother—is a leggy, voluptuous, and rather mysteriously aloof swimmer at the high school, and as you consume—with loud praise—your Wild Rice &amp; Arugula salad, you inwardly wonder if Andrea's life could stand some meddling improvement. Andrea could easily be more popular; but maybe she doesn't want popularity.<br/>
<br/>
Then it's to the theater, on the university campus, for a production of a play called <i>Bertrand de Got.</i> You don't know anything about it, and when the stage lights go up to reveal a monk's cloister and people walking around in medieval costumes, you sink a little in your seat, and for probably the first time since putting on Kelsey's mask you wish you were back at your own house, where at least you could be playing one of the <i>Assassin's Creed</i> games instead of watching this crap. But you can tell it's "Art," which Kelsey is totally in favor of, so when the lights go up at the intermission you nod enthusiastically when the parents ask if you're enjoying it. "It's really interesting!"<br/>
<br/>
No it isn't, and it's not nearly as interesting as the sight of Geoff and Lisa sitting a couple of rows down and a couple of seats over. You quickly excuse yourself to the restroom—where there's a line—so you can avoid them.<br/>
<br/>
But why does the sight of them bother you so much? You wonder that as you're waiting to get at a sink so you can check on and touch up your look. Of course, there's one obvious answer: the same jealousy that led you to first try a mask on Geoff back at the start of this adventure. But the feeling in your gut is worse than just jealousy.<br/>
<br/>
With a sinking sensation you realize what it is: From the perch of Kelsey Blankenship you are perfectly positioned to do something about it. Cutting remarks, sneers, belittling asides, snide comments, private backstabbing: basically, all the things that Kelsey did to Lisa to convince her to break up with you.<br/>
<br/>
Wait, did Kelsey try to break you guys up? You frown deeply. No, not intentionally, not deliberately, you decide after prowling through the memories. All that stuff was Kelsey just reacting naturally to your presence. A soft hiss escapes from you to realize that Kelsey Blankenship doesn't hate you; she doesn't even dislike you. She's just revolted by you and doesn't have any more thought for you than "Ick."<br/>
<br/>
Oh, but what about Geoff? Could you use Kelsey's forceful personality to break up Geoff and Lisa? You could certainly try. Kelsey has been trying to stay out of the fight between Geoff and the Garners. She doesn't like Eva and Jessica that much—if she likes any of the Garners, it's Marc, for obvious reasons—and she's not that fond of Geoff. (Unless you're being misled by your own antipathy for Mansfield.) But having to choose between their accounts—the Garners claim that he assaulted them at the library, and his strenuous denials—isn't something she wants to do, and has told both sides she doesn't want to hear about it.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Hmm.</i> If you came down on the Garners' side, it would definitely tilt the ground against Geoff, especially if you spun it all up with some behind-his-back snark and cruelty. It would also be a natural way of solidifying the alliance with the Garner twins that you—as Kelsey—will want when you execute that coup against Chelsea on the cheerleader squad.</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111122111111111221
author_id: seuzz
title: Coffee Talk
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>There's nothing you can do about it now, really. But even as you put away your makeup and check over your face carefully in the mirror, you know—with a feeling that's a little like anticipation and a little like dread—that you will be making Mansfield's life difficult in the coming week; and that if you add Kelsey's opinion to the Garners' side of things, it won't make his life much worse than it would be otherwise. You pull back your hair, and with a raised chin and slightly clenched jaw return to your seat in the theater.<br/>
<br/>
At the conclusion of the performance you do lock eyes briefly at Geoff and Lisa, and wave cheerily at them. If only they knew who you really were—<br/>
<br/>
That is more or less the end of the evening. Back home you start reconnecting with Kelsey's friends and setting up meetings at coffee shops for Sunday after church.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"It's not that I care," you insist. "But she should really have told me, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"She just doesn't think," Amanda agrees with a sniff.<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't that the truth. Oh, she thinks about whatever she's got going on at the moment, but toward other people? Being oblivious is one thing, but to be so freaking thoughtless—"<br/>
<br/>
It's Brooke Galloway, one of Kelsey's more desperate hangers-on, that you're bitching about. By this point you're not even sure which of her multitude of failures set you off. Brooke's got so many it's hard to keep track of them. They're all minor failures by any reasonable standard—like the time she failed to return a borrowed tennis racket in a timely manner—but Kelsey's not very reasonable about failure when it inconveniences her, as so many of Brooke's failures do.<br/>
<br/>
With a sigh volcanic in its depths and in its heat, you drop the cell phone onto the rough hewn table and look out the plate glass window onto Fillmore Street. Why do you even keep coming to the Milagro Beanfield Warehouse when there are so many other coffee shops in town, so many of them within a stone's throw of each other? You know why you—no, keep it accurate, why <i>Kelsey</i>—started coming. It was on account of that really cute barista who was working here all last year. He had a buzz cut you wanted to stroke and eyebrows you wanted to lick. (<i>Eww!</i>), and when he smiled he showed white even teeth between dimples that bracketed his mouth like parentheses. But he quit or moved or graduated from college or something stupid so that he's not here anymore, but you're still coming here, and so is— "You know, I think that's Danny Russo's brother up front," you sigh.<br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
Sometimes Amanda is too snobby even for your tastes. It gets on your nerves when you've something to say about someone and she pretends not to know who they are. It gets on your nerves now that she's texting without looking up at you. "Danny Russo," you snap. "One of those hairy lacrosse apes. The one who's always bouncing around." Amanda grunts, which could mean anything. "I think that's his brother or cousin up at the counter. It would explain why we sometimes see him here."<br/>
<br/>
"Who's here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Never mind." You sweep up your phone again to text Olivia Byrne to see if she's busy tonight. You don't want to do anything with her, so it'll be a relief if she says she is. It'll also delay the moment you've been putting off. But after a few silent minutes during which Amanda continues to not speak, you raise the subject: "Oh, did I tell you I saw Geoff and Lisa at the theater last night?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nhn-nhn."<br/>
<br/>
"What a dumb idea for a romantic date." You cluck your tongue. "Not that I expect anything better from him."<br/>
<br/>
"What's wrong with seeing a play on a date?"<br/>
<br/>
"It was called 'Bertrand de Got' or something like that. Honestly, I could barely keep awake—"<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you said it was interesting."<br/>
<br/>
You catch your breath. That's another thing that bugs you—that bugs Kelsey—about Amanda: the way she can catch you out sometimes. "I meant intellectually interesting," you reply. "I felt like I was going to have to go home and write an essay on it for Mrs. Goretsky. You know, it was this artsy thing about the Templars and God and conscience and—"<br/>
<br/>
"The Knights Templar?" Now Amanda looks up.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," you say, though you're not at all certain. "Anyway, if Geoff thought he was going to get any from Lisa last night after that—" You raise the coffee cup to your lips and lift your eyebrows meaningfully.<br/>
<br/>
"Like Lisa would give Geoff anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, he wants it from her. It's obvious he's only interested in her because he thinks he's got a shot at getting inside her panties, which he's not going to get if—"<br/>
<br/>
"Are we talking about Lisa Yarborough?" Amanda asks, incredulity distending her features. "Because how dumb do you have to be to think that Lisa's going to put out for you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, as dumb as Geoff?"<br/>
<br/>
Amanda stares at you for a good long time, and you can tell what she's thinking: <i>Why is Kelsey, who has never spoken this disparagingly of Geoff Mansfield before, suddenly started ripping him up this way?</i> In fact, Geoff is one of the few people that Amanda Ferguson doesn't treat with obvious loathing, and that includes her own long-suffering and much-abused boyfriend.<br/>
<br/>
You hold her eye, and she looks away first, her expression thoughtful. "Well, then he's going to be disappointed, isn't he?" she says.<br/>
<br/>
"You know, I don't have anything against Geoff getting action," you loftily declare, as though your opinion matters in the slightest. "But for his own good he's going to have to grow up a little more." That look of skepticism returns to Amanda's face. "If you're going to sleep with someone, take some fucking responsibility."<br/>
<br/>
The hook is now well baited, you can tell, and turn your face toward the window. Amanda has got to be dying to know what you're talking about. After a pause, she bluntly dives in after you. "Who did Geoff sleep with?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ew, no one I know of, at least. I'm talking about what he did at the library with Eva and Jessica and Marc."<br/>
<br/>
Amanda, like Kelsey, has been keeping out of that mess, but she's made sympathetic noises toward Geoff and has been frostier than usual to the Garners. So her eyes narrow at your words.<br/>
<br/>
But you push on. "He totally did it, of course, whatever <i>it</i> is. I mean, we've got Eva and Jessica and Marc saying he did, that's three people, and there was that new girl, Hannah—"<br/>
<br/>
"The drunk cunt?"<br/>
<br/>
"She wasn't drunk at the library," you snap. "That's four witnesses, and I'd take Marc's word over Geoff's any day. He's just immature enough to—"<br/>
<br/>
"To do what?"<br/>
<br/>
"To do whatever it was he did. I'm sure it was just some weird prank he tried playing and it went wrong and now he's trying to pretend it didn't happen. At least, I hope that's what it was. No, I know that's what it was, Geoff's too much of a pussy to do anything worse than a prank, because he's also too much of a pussy to take responsibility for it. That's what I meant when I said he needs to grow up before he gets laid."<br/>
<br/>
This squall of words seems to have swept Amanda off of any coherent train of thought, for she grasps only at the tail end. "Do you think he's still a virgin?"<br/>
<br/>
You give her a look. "I <i>said</i> he's too immature. Of course he is."<br/>
<br/>
And then you see it in her eyes, in the shadow behind them as she glances away. She and Geoff have slept together. So you can't resist turning the screw a little tighter: "Certainly I'd be too embarrassed to tell anyone if I'd hooked up with him."<br/>
<br/>
That gets you a very black look, and Amanda's jaw clenches. But with a shrug she returns to her phone. <i>Score one for me,</i> you exult internally, and spike the ball. You have never in your career as Will Prescott gotten the better of Amanda Ferguson. <i>Gotten the better?</i> You have never in your career as Will Prescott gotten anything other than stomped on by Amanda Ferguson.<br/>
<br/>
But Kelsey's instincts warn you that, having pissed her off about her secret fuck, you'd better start protecting your own. Tomorrow, at school, you are supposed to reveal that Kelsey and Karl Hennepin are an item. You should lay the groundwork for that now, so you do with a text to your fellow conspirator.<br/>
<br/>
Thirty minutes later, Karl comes in and sits at a booth. Per your instructions he makes himself visible, but doesn't come over to your table until after Amanda has left. There you make final preparations for your first school day as Kelsey Blankenship—and her first school day with an acknowledged boyfriend.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Text messages bounce around during the night and during the morning, complicating the job of getting dressed and made up. Justin seems acclimated to the role of Chelsea: at least his messages are confident as he describes how he'll kick Michelle off the squad and invite you onto it.<br/>
<br/>
But then comes the shocking text from Cindy Vrendenburg's number: Marc Garner, Seth Javits, and a half-dozen other guys from school were arrested over the weekend in connection with a late-night brawl downtown.<br/>
<br/>
In a daze, you sink onto the bed and wonder if Westside can stand more drama and mayhem atop of that.</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111221111111112212
author_id: seuzz
title: Flirting with the Devil
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The news is very fragmentary, as Caleb—writing from Cindy's account—can only link to the small item online and add the little that he has heard from Javits directly. But it appears that Seth, Marc Garner, and Marcos Rivera of Westside, and five or six guys from Eastman, got in a huge fight at the Warehouse late Friday night and early Saturday morning.<br/>
<br/>
Your heart thumps as you sink onto the edge of the bed. This will probably have a big impact on the high school music and clubbing scenes, since it will give the police reason to crack down on people hanging out there. Of course it will also have a big impact on those guys and their friends, which presently include you and Caleb and Justin. It will throw everything into confusion.<br/>
<br/>
Your fingers hover over the screen of the phone as you hesitate to send a text to Justin telling him to postpone the cheerleader squad coup d'etat.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck it,</i> you decide, and switch to a different message to a different recipient. All the gears are engaged, and it would be just like Chelsea to start an earthquake in one part of the school just after another earthquake has gone off in another corner of it.<br/>
<br/>
Your text instead is a note of exclamation and condolence to Eva, saying you just heard about Marc, asking what's going on, and wondering where you can meet her at school.<br/>
<br/>
But no reply has come by the time you've finished prepping and primping and are on your way to Westside. Instead, you get a flood of texts from other people, to which you can only reply with variants on <i>omg i know!</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
God, how you love this car. Kelsey's BMW coupe has not gotten old for you yet, and you doubt it ever will. It purrs and growls quietly like a jungle feline perfectly under your control, and it almost makes you wet when you catch the corner of your face—in the designer sunglasses—in the rearview mirror. It's a chilly morning, so you're wearing stockings with your skirt, but your arms are bare and you've got goose bumps running up and down them as you turn smoothly into the student parking lot. You find a distant spot—less likely to get bumped and scraped—and get purse and bag settled on your shoulder before turning to the school building with a satisfied sigh.<br/>
<br/>
For the first time ever, you are looking forward to a day at Westside High School. No jocks, no bullies, and no tart-tongued cunts are going to touch you, of that you are sure. With a confident swing in your hips and shoulders, you stride toward the gym with a broad smile.<br/>
<br/>
The short, sharp blast of a horn behind almost knocks you sideways into a car and off your feet. You wheel around with a glare and snarl.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, shit! It's Steve Patterson!</i> You force the glare into a smile and step to the side as he slides past. Your heart is racing with fear—it turns out that old expectations die out hard—but he flashes you a quick "peace" sign as he goes past, and you realize he honked only because—<br/>
<br/>
Well, only because that's the way Steve Patterson flirts with girls.<br/>
<br/>
You're not sure you've ever noticed what kind of car is driven by Patterson—the number two guy on the basketball squad, but probably the number one bully in school on account of not having a regular girlfriend to distract him—but Kelsey has noticed, and it's a disappointment: a nondescript sedan that's several years old and is clearly shared with or borrowed from his parents. A guy with Patterson's pretensions really ought to be driving something better. But then, a guy with Patterson's reputation and charisma doesn't need a showy car to demonstrate his alpha qualities.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson pulls abruptly into the first available space, and without willing it, you slow down. He'll want to talk to you, and you can't resist the allure of standing face to face with Steve Patterson as something like an equal—or at least not like an armadillo that's wandered onto a football field and been mistaken for the ball.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Mm, mistake,</i> you decide as you linger behind his car. He's busied himself getting his stuff together; if you'd kept walking, he'd have to hustle to catch up to you. As it is, he's making you look like the more interested party.<br/>
<br/>
At last, though, he gets out, rising and rising until his full six-and-a-half-feet of rangy muscle is fully unbent. He looks down at you with those frigid gray eyes, but now they are warmed by a slight smile. "Hey," he says in a husky baritone.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey yourself," you smile. "You're late for practice."<br/>
<br/>
"No I'm not."<br/>
<br/>
"It's eight o'clock."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not late. Gordon called me early, told me to show up late. There's some trouble with the squad."<br/>
<br/>
"On account of Seth?"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes freeze over. "You heard about that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Me and everyone else. I haven't heard the details," you add with an inviting smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Neither have I. When you hear them, come find me, share them with me."<br/>
<br/>
"Won't you get them before me?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. So you should come find me anyway." His chin tilts, and you've noticed that he's not blinking as he stares hard and direct at you. "What did you do this weekend? I know you weren't rocking a holding cell."<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't do much. Stayed home mostly, hung out in the sauna."<br/>
<br/>
"You have a sauna?" he asks, and his voice grows a little more husky. You nod. "Those things are awesome for sore muscles after a workout. You should have me out there, maybe after a game."<br/>
<br/>
"Why don't you invite me someplace before inviting yourself—?" Too late you realize what you're saying, and finish it despite yourself with only a tiny stumble. "Yourself over to my place."<br/>
<br/>
Patterson shrugs. "Okay. Tonight, here at the school, over the gym. You like wine?"<br/>
<br/>
His brazenness causes you to catch your breath. He's baldly asking you up to the fuck room for an evening of fucking. <i>Asking?</i> He's not even asking, he's just laying it out and daring you to turn him down. "I was thinking of something more like dinner out someplace."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I wasn't."<br/>
<br/>
"You must not want my company very much."<br/>
<br/>
He hikes his backpack onto his shoulders, and turns the motion into another shrug. "Call it a standing invitation, Kelsey." His hand shoots out, and roughly grabs onto the strap of your bag. "That was slipping off," he says in a transparently false excuse after you've shaken him off. "I'll be up here tonight, if you want to stop by. Call or text me from the parking lot and I'll let you in. Anytime after eight."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that how you spend your Monday nights?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's how I'm spending this Monday night."<br/>
<br/>
His expression has been impassive all through this conversation, and now he turns an impassive—but impressively long and strong—back on you, and on long, confident strides goes off toward the gym.<br/>
<br/>
And—dammit—he's still left you shaking, albeit not with the kind of terror he usually inspires in you when he cruises past. Part of it's the thrill you've got from—as you'd hoped—facing him and surviving. But most of it is a kind of horrible discovery that he's a kind of bully even when treating people well. Even to a girl of such advantages as Kelsey Blankenship, whom he'd plainly like to fuck, he is bold, aggressive and entitled. You let him get far ahead of you before following in his track.<br/>
<br/>
But he's unsettled you enough that you jump again at the toot of another horn. This time, though, it's just Olivia Byrne, and by her frantic signals you can see there'll be no waiting on her once she's found a parking spot.<br/>
<br/>
The look on her face as she leaps out—eyes wide, cheeks pale, lips forming a perfect "o"—tell you what she's going to say: <i>Have you heard?!</i> You put on a matching expression, the two of you leap over to grasp each other. "Have you heard from Eva or Jessica?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"No! I bet they're getting all kinds of texts, though!"<br/>
<br/>
"What have you heard? I only heard—" You recount what you know, and Olivia can't add to it. "We should go find Cindy," you say. "Or Cristina. Seth and Marcos were mixed up in too, so they might know more." <i>Cristina? Marcos?</i> For someone who affects to ignore the 99% who don't meet her exacting standards, Kelsey sure has a comprehensive list of who's who and who's dating who. You wouldn't know those two names—and would barely know their faces—in your own body. You keep touching Olivia by the elbow, and she does yours—as you hustle in to the school, glancing about for anyone else you might scoop up.<br/>
<br/>
But you see no one before finding Cindy, near the doors leading onto the breezeway, in a knot of students that includes Yumi Saito and Lin Pol and Jenny Ashton and Paul Davis. They are showing worry and concern, naturally. You bust in without hellos and seize Cindy by the elbows. "Cindy, honey, how are you holding up? Have you talked to Seth?"<br/>
<br/>
Cindy shakes her head gravely and furrows her brow. You swallow a snort of contempt. <i>Caleb is not showing the appropriate amount of distress.</i> You pull her into a tight hug and as unobtrusively as you can cruelly twist a pocket of her flesh between your fingers, to raise some tears in her eyes if you can. There are none when you separate, but she looks a little more red and a little aghast. "What have you heard?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Before she can answer, though, there's a scuffle behind you, and Carson Ioeger is suddenly flung through the group and against the wall. He bounces off it and turns with a sly smile on his persecutor.<br/>
<br/>
It's Patterson, of course. "I think this belongs to you," he tells Jenny curtly, and turns his back on her curses.<br/>
<br/>
Why didn't it hit you before: Connor and Justin were friends with Carson last year. Why put Connor in a loser like Karl when he can be Steve Patterson?</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112211111111122122
author_id: seuzz
title: A Morning at the Improv
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The thought of replacing Steve Patterson with a doppelganger excites you, and it excites you so much that you hurry away from Cindy and the others with almost-rude haste so you can find Connor. He—in the guise of Karl Hennepin—is supposed to meet you at Kelsey's locker just before first period so you can stage a big, public, romantic scene. You might still do that—if he doesn't like the idea of taking over for Steve—but you really hope that—<br/>
<br/>
You are buffeted by passing students as you stop in the middle of the hallway. <i>You really hope what?</i><br/>
<br/>
Is it you or Kelsey making this decision? You're certainly not keen on having Steve Patterson for a boyfriend, but you're not keen on having <i>anyone</i> for a boyfriend. You can tell that Kelsey doesn't like Patterson that much either, but she certainly understands the status he holds in the high school. To walk through the halls hip-to-hip with him would be a huge boost for her. To have him as a boyfriend while also being captain of the cheerleader squad—that would make for the perfect senior year for her!<br/>
<br/>
Or for you, if you're going to be playing her.<br/>
<br/>
But are you going to be playing her all year? That's not the plan.<br/>
<br/>
Come to that, the plan is to balance an advance for Kelsey—taking over the cheerleader squad—with a demerit—the public romance with Karl. <br/>
<br/>
Your knees are trembling as you push your way to the library, and your fingers are trembling as you take out your phone. If Connor asks, you've got an excuse for making this change to the plan. You're just not sure if you'll be telling him the truth. <br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Ten minutes later Karl Hennepin finds you hiding in the library stacks. You return his querulous look with a pinched one of your own. "What's the crisis?" he asks. Then he gets an expectant look. "We gonna make out here?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I want to talk to you about changing masks. What if we got you a mask of Steve Patterson? Would you be up for playing him instead of Karl?"<br/>
<br/>
He pulls back as though slapped. "When did you get this idea? We're all set for a Karl-and-Kelsey thing."<br/>
<br/>
"Steve is better for Kelsey. Think what a huge catch it would be for her if—"<br/>
<br/>
"What do we want that for? I thought you were all about sticking her with a socially awkward boyfriend."<br/>
<br/>
You take a deep breath. "Short term it'll be great for her. Long term it'll suck. When we change back, Steve will dump Kelsey. Think what a kick in the ass that'll be for her."<br/>
<br/>
You can see the thought in his eyes: <i>WtF?</i> He opens his mouth to reply, then shakes his head. "Whatever. Would we still be, you know, doing it?" he asks. "If I'm Steve and you're—?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God. He's just worried that he's not going to get laid.</i> "Yes," you say through gritted teeth. "In fact, I'll be all over you, especially in public because it's Steve freaking Patterson."<br/>
<br/>
His eyes light up. "Really?"<br/>
<br/>
You want to gag, but you nod. "You can also use his powers for good, maybe. Or at least for not-total-dickishness. You remember what he's like, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fucking-A I remember. What he and Black used to do to me and Justin and Carson and—"<br/>
<br/>
"That's what made me think of it. Just a little while ago he caught Carson at something and almost threw him through a wall."<br/>
<br/>
Karl looks thoughtful.<br/>
<br/>
"If we're going to do this," you continue, "we'll have to skip that makeout session we were planning—" <br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be stupid. Obviously, I can't start dating Patterson twelve hours after telling the world I'm dating Karl."<br/>
<br/>
"Twelve? You figure on getting him that fast?"<br/>
<br/>
"He invited me up to the fuck room. Tonight."<br/>
<br/>
"Wow. Is Kelsey really that easy?"<br/>
<br/>
You kick him in the shin. "No! But Patterson just point-blank propositioned me. Acted like he was doing me a favor even by asking." You snarl at the amused look Karl gets. "Yeah, so if you want to slip your cojones into a pair about a million times bigger than the little peas you're carrying around now—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, I'll think about it. I'll let you know just before lat period. If I grab your ass at your locker, it means I want to keep to the current plan. If I don't show up, I'll be down for sandbagging Steve."<br/>
<br/>
That's good enough for you, so you reward him with a smile. "Great. Where are you off to now?"<br/>
<br/>
"First period, obviously."<br/>
<br/>
"I know <i>that</i>, I mean do you know which class it is?"<br/>
<br/>
"I had the weekend to get used to this, wench. I know what I'm doing. I even wrote a poem last night, which is something I've never done before. Do you want to hear it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not if it's got the word 'Nantucket' anywhere in it. Now, will you get out of the way? I have to get to class, and I'm not touching you until or unless we're official."<br/>
<br/>
Karl mutters a soft "Psht" and moves aside to let you pass.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Amanda is waiting for you at your locker. Her long, straight black hair is looking even more severe than usual, and her jaw has a slightly more pronounced jut. "Eva and Jessica Garner won't be in class today," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"How do you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"They texted me."<br/>
<br/>
<i>They texted Amanda?!</i> You fumble for your phone, but find nothing from them, which brings a flame to your cheek.<br/>
<br/>
"Eva asked me to pick up her English and Calculus homework," Amanda says, by way of explanation, apparently.<br/>
<br/>
"I've got Jessica for History!" you exclaim. "Who is she asking to—? Never mind. Did they say anymore about what happened with Marc?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, they just asked for the homework." Amanda looks around the hallway with a sour expression. "That was a funny crowd he was with. Marc, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
"I know! Seth Javits?" You punctuate the horror of the thought by slamming a heavy book into the locker. "I thought Marc had better sense than that."<br/>
<br/>
She looks at you sideways. "Maybe they're all crazy."<br/>
<br/>
"Eva and Jessica aren't crazy."<br/>
<br/>
"Eva had a date with Jeremy Richards this weekend," Amanda says slyly.<br/>
<br/>
"Really? Gyuck! But that's not 'crazy'. That's just bad taste." You slam the locker door. "But you know, Jeremy and Seth are always hanging out. Maybe this will show Eva it's a bad idea to get mixed up with—"<br/>
<br/>
You were going to say "with assholes on the basketball squad," but you're plotting to do that yourself.<br/>
<br/>
Then you decide <i>WtH</i> and blurt it out anyway. "With assholes on the basketball squad."<br/>
<br/>
Amanda smiles like she's got a secret: a disconcerting sight. But she only says, "If Eva's stupid enough to go out with Jeremy, is she smart enough to see <i>that?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes meaningfully, tuck an arm into Amanda's, and push through the crowds toward Mr. Walberg's class, where a kid who looks like Will Prescott is slumped in the back. You spare him a brief, withering glance when he catches your eye, then sweep into Kelsey's usual seat and take the usual elaborate five minutes to set up your little study area on the desktop.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The day passes in a dizzy mix of schoolwork and gossip. When classes are at work your arm is constantly up and down with answers to questions, questions of your own, and arguments when your questions and answers don't lead where you want them to. Mr. Walberg accepts your hectoring gruffly; in second period English Mrs. Goretsky gets a drawn and haggard look by the fifth time your hand has gone up to argue a point about <i>The Nun Priest's Tale</i>; and Mr. Walberg doesn't even call on you when you're back in his room for third period.<br/>
<br/>
Between official class periods you badger and consult with anyone and everyone you know for news about those arrests. From Yumi you learn that it was a melee involving some soccer players from Eastman, which flabbergasts you, as Marc is known to be on good terms with his cross-town rivals. From Kristina Ramon, one of the girlfriends of Marcos Rivera (the third Westside student arrested) you extract that whatever happened had been planned in advance, which is consistent with what you knew about Marc and Seth each having special plans for the night. It also sounds like what happened was not so bad that anything like jail time might be in the offing: no deaths or serious injuries. But the melee turned into a near riot, and when a mass of cops showed up to break it up, interrogations of the arrested partygoers eventually pointed to Marc and the others as the instigators. If they do get serious punishment, it sounds like, it will be to send a message.<br/>
<br/>
Rumors and gossip storm and swirl all during lunch, which is a frenzy of speculation at your table in the cafeteria. You rally staunchly to the defense of the Garners, loudly putting as much of the blame as possible onto Javits. Mansfield, you notice, is very quiet, and it burns you up that you're having to invest social capital in shoring up the Garners instead of tearing him down. By the time lunch has ended you're so worn down from defending Marc that you'd probably kick him in the balls if he suddenly showed up.<br/>
<br/>
The end of the school day approaches—and what an exciting day it's been!—and you're starting to wonder what reply Connor will have for you, and keep looking over your shoulder in case he tries surprising you with an early goose.<br/>
<br/>
But the answer comes at the start of seventh, not of eighth, and by text: He asks if you'd be okay with adding Carson Ioeger and James Lamont to the conspiracy, and letting one of them take over for Patterson instead.</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111122111111111221222
author_id: seuzz
title: Intersections of Interest
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Fucking idiot,</i> you snarl to yourself. A question like that—telling two more people about the masks and the magic book! <br/>
<br/>
You retort with an answer you're sure will do the trick: <i>ok but i fuck SP not KH.</i> Connor's reply seems to take forever to come, but it's exactly the one you wanted: <i>nvr mind. will make new mask ths aft for 2nite.</i><br/>
<br/>
You put away the phone with a smile and look up, just in time for Statistics to start.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
In all the excitement, you'd almost forgotten about the cheerleader plot, and don't remember it until you feel a tug at your blouse just before eighth period, and turn from your locker to find Chelsea Cooper beaming up at you. "Gotta minute?" she chirps.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." Hurriedly you change out books and follow the (for now) head cheerleader outside to a corner. Anyone looking on will think it a little odd that Kelsey and Chelsea—who loathe each other—would be having a seemingly friendly conversation, but it only matters that no one overhear you.<br/>
<br/>
"When do you want me to nominate you onto the squad?" Chelsea says when you're in an isolated spot.<br/>
<br/>
"Not until Eva and Jessica are back in school," you reply. "Did you hear about all that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course." She snorts softly. "Did <i>you</i> have fun dealing with it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I know, what is it with girls and gossip?" You toss your hair back, and try not to notice that even being reminded of that news has got you excited to start talking about it all over again. "But let's wait until the Garners are back in school before we do the squad thing. Also, did Connor tell you about the change of plans for him?" Chelsea shakes her head. "We're going to move him into a new mask." You lean in close. "Steve Patterson."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes widen. "You're shitting me."<br/>
<br/>
"I know. I'll be moving in totally on your territory." Then you're seized by the terrible worry that Justin will resent this. "Uh, there's not going to be a problem with us doing that, is there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why would there be? I mean, you'll still be dating Karl Hennepin, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'll be dating Steve."<br/>
<br/>
Her expression turns grave. "Chelsea won't like that," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Really? What about you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't give a shit. But when Chelsea gets back— We're returning her to normal later this week, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Depends on what happens with the election. But even if—"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea <i>really</i> won't like you dating Steve, especially if it means you have access to the loft."<br/>
<br/>
"But you're okay with it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, I don't give a shit. It's not like I'm having a lot of fun anyway, so I'll be glad just to get out of this thing."<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw drops. "You're not having fun being—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, the body's great." She glances around. "But there's having to keep her boyfriend happy, and there's those harpies to manage—" She starts ticking points off on her fingers. "And if I don't get to be squad captain—"<br/>
<br/>
"Just as long as you're not pissed at me," you interrupt. "We're going to try to catch Steve tonight. He told me he's going to be up in the loft alone—"<br/>
<br/>
"Gordon told me he was hanging out with Steve tonight."<br/>
<br/>
<i>"What?"</i><br/>
<br/>
The bell rings. "Yeah," Chelsea says, turning to glance at the school. "Do you have class now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Student Congress, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, maybe Steve will kick Gordon out if you show up." Now she does get a Chelsea-like smile on her face, and it makes you shudder. "Or maybe they'll take turns with you. I wouldn't put it past them." She turns away, clutching books to her chest, with her pert butt bouncing up and down.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The talk with Justin/Chelsea gives you pause, but it's too late (you decide) to change things now. You text Caleb at Cindy's number and ask if he can hang out with you after classes. <i>thx</i> he replies. <i>gets me home instead of staying late.</i><br/>
<br/>
It doesn't, actually, for you've got tennis practice after school. But after that's over, you walk out with her to the parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
"Usually I get a ride with Seth, you know" she says, and you note the casual way Caleb is now using the personal pronoun as if Cindy's situation was his own. "But with the shit going on, I'd have to get Lucy to pick me up." She shudders.<br/>
<br/>
"How is Lucy?" You remember Cindy's older sister well from a few years back, when she was a senior and you were a dopey underclassman.<br/>
<br/>
"Snotty. Nasty. Gorgeously sexy," Cindy sighs. "Man, I wouldn't mind a spot of lesbian incest."<br/>
<br/>
You file that away as a possibility for Justin if he wants to abandon Chelsea: Lucy Vredenburg should still be a sexy host, and a college student as well.<br/>
<br/>
And that reminds you of what you want to talk to Caleb about. You wait until you're in the car though, for it's a lucky thing that Caleb's "lesbian incest" remark—uttered in the open air—was not overheard. But after turning the motor over and moving slowly into traffic, you tell your friend about the change of plan for Connor. "That'll be nice for him," she says. She lays a palm on your thigh. "Can we still get together?"<br/>
<br/>
"As often as possible," you reply, laying your hand on hers. "I'll get a key to the loft from Connor, and we'll make it a regular hangout when we can't do it at my place."<br/>
<br/>
Cindy groans softly. "Can we go to your place now?"<br/>
<br/>
"I have to stay in town, in case Connor needs me, like at a coffee shop. You can come with, though." You dimple sweetly at her.<br/>
<br/>
"Why do you have to be available for Conner?"<br/>
<br/>
"He has to make a new mask, and I'll have to pick it up from him when I go in to see Patterson. Except, goddamn it, Justin says Patterson might be hanging out with Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
"They're probably talking about Seth and what to do about him. Oh, did you hear it was Gordon's dad who arrested them?"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, really? Gordon's dad is a cop?" That surprises you and Kelsey both.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, and he's a real hard-ass, from what Seth says. I mean, Seth knew he was a hard-ass from before he got arrested, but I guess he knows it for sure now. But I hear that even Gordon's afraid of his dad. Seth says that's why Gordon's the way he is."<br/>
<br/>
"So what makes Javits the way he is?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think with him, dickishness is just genetic."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You have coffee with your friend and gossip about regular school and also about your gang's plans for it. You exchange texts with Connor, and text the parents to say you won't be home for supper because you're meeting friends. At seven o'clock you drive Cindy home, then drive to the Donna, which you enter and depart from in a scamper: Connor has maneuvered his double into the same room that you used to capture Karl, removed his own mask and clothes from Hennepin, and hidden in yet another motel room, from behind the closed door of which he hands you masks, sealant, and a set of clothes to use on Patterson. You manage to get away before Karl Hennepin emerges from his room with a couple of days missing from his life. Then you get a bite to eat at a sandwich shop, and when it's eight o'clock you drive out to the school.<br/>
<br/>
Night has fallen, but the parking lot is lit up with vapor lamps that burn with an acrid light. Two cars are parked near the gym, and you grimace at them. One is Patterson's, and the other is Gordon Black's all-too-distinctive classic VW Bug. You park a few slots over and drum your fingers on the wheel. Then, after finding Patterson's number, you text him. <i>Hey, I'm downstairs.<br/>
<br/>
1 minute,</i> he says in reply. You count your heartbeats until you hit a hundred. Not long after that, a shadow detaches itself from the side rear door of the gym and a massive figure stalks out. As it passes under a lamp, you recognize it: Gordon Black. Somehow he squeezes his bulk into his Bug; the lawnmower-like engine breaks into life, and with a roar and thud he drives it up over the sidewalk before taking a wide, fast turn to race across the parking lot and toward the street. <i>Classic, pissed-off Gordon Black behavior,</i> as far as you can tell.<br/>
<br/>
Your phone dings again: <i>ready.</i> With a deep breath and a gulp, you grab the sack of supplies and get out.<br/>
<br/>
The side door to the gym is half open, and as you approach it opens all the way. It's dark inside the gym, but by the outside lights you can find Patterson. He's dressed in knee-length plaid Bermuda shorts, canvas shoes, and a polo shirt, but his face is hidden in shadows. "Hey, nice to see you," he drawls as you sidle past him. But not all the way: he catches the side of your head in a long hand and caresses it while closing and locking the door. "You didn't tell me if you wanted wine."<br/>
<br/>
"Beer is fine," you say, and try to keep the tremble from your voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Beer it is. You like the bottom or the top?"<br/>
<br/>
The question makes no sense. "Of the beer?"<br/>
<br/>
"Coitus," he clarifies. "I usually take the bottom, it's easier on the girl, but I'm a gentleman and like to offer a choice."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Cocksucking prick.</i> But at the moment you're not worried about "top" or "bottom" but about "now" or "later." Ambush before the clothes come off, or after he's spent himself inside you and is off all possible guard?</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111221111111112212222
author_id: seuzz
title: Playtime with Patterson
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You are revolted by the thought of having Steve Patterson inside you, but it seems a safer ploy to do it when you're atop him and pressing down on him than while he's upright.<br/>
<br/>
So you smile—though he probably can't see your face in the dark—and rub the small of his back. "Position is negotiable, but let's start with the bottom. Start," you add with a desperate lasciviousness that is no less disgusting for being your natural style more than it's Kelsey's. "Start there, but maybe not end there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ooo," says Patterson, though he doesn't sound impressed. "So we'll have fun both ways." He puts a hand on your ass and leads you confidently across the darkened gym floor. Pale lights gleam through the skylights, and dim reflections bounce off the polished floor. It's just light enough to court eyestrain, but not enough to actually see anything. But Patterson must have crossed this floor hundreds of times, because he takes you without swerving to a rectangle of darkness even darker than the rest. It contains stairs, you discover, after tripping over the first one and dropping your burden with a clatter.<br/>
<br/>
"What's in the bag?" Steve asks. "It's not something to eat, is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's a surprise," you stammer.<br/>
<br/>
"What kind of surprise?" His voice, without losing any of its baritone luster, is soft now; and perhaps he can't help it, but it sounds menacing in the dark.<br/>
<br/>
"For after we get, uh, started." The steps creak as you mount them.<br/>
<br/>
"Nice. I like it when a girl knows the way she wants me."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Has anyone ever kicked this guy in the nuts? Or does he just not care when they do?</i><br/>
<br/>
There's a level space at the top of the stairs. Also, a door.<br/>
<br/>
It's the door to the fuck room. The aerie where the cruel eagles of the school nest. Patterson pulls you inside, then shuts and locks the door behind you. Your heart goes into your throat.<br/>
<br/>
You can't make anything out, even in the weak lights that gleam through the row of windows peeking onto the student parking lot, and you clutch onto the tail of Patterson's shirt when he lets go of you, and let him guide you in. Your toes hit something yielding, and Patterson pulls you down onto it. <i>Oh. It's a gym mat.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Beer now, or beer later?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Later. I was thinking we—Mnf!" His mouth hits yours hard enough to bang your lips into your teeth. He withdraws, then goes in more slowly, and fumbles his hand onto the back of your head to guide you in as well. His lips travel over yours, caressing them. The tip of a tongue darts out to touch your lower lip, then retreats.<br/>
<br/>
<i>He moves fast but is taking it slow. The opposite of Karl Hennepin.</i><br/>
<br/>
You put your free hand onto the back of his shoulders and shake the bag loose with the other. If you can get it open while he's distracted, maybe—<br/>
<br/>
He shifts backward and draws you with him, and you lose hold of the plastic handles of the bag. When you've caught up to him again, he's sitting upright, but relaxed, and when you put your hands onto him you find he's braced himself against a wooden pillar. You straddle him—with his help—and put your face and nose against his. The kisses remain soft and slow, but to your embarrassment you realize you're kissing him more lustily than he's kissing you.<br/>
<br/>
And yet he does feel and taste good. Here, in the dark, with your eyes closed, you could almost forget what exactly you're kissing and simply go with the brush and scrape of the lips and the darting, probing wetness of the tongue. Almost forget, that is, because your lips and cheek keep finding stubble on him. <i>Pretend it's a bearded lady,</i> you find yourself thinking in a very silly vein.<br/>
<br/>
His fingers are long and strong, but they are coaxing as they work up and down your back. Your hands you keep on his shoulders, and for a lack of anything else you start playing with his collar.<br/>
<br/>
He turns away—to your embarrassment, before you are tired of kissing him. "I like that," he says, putting a hand to the side of your head and pressing a thumb between your lips and against your teeth. "Now let's see what—"<br/>
<br/>
He forces the thumb between your teeth and into your mouth, and clenches the back of your head with the rest of his fingers. Suddenly, you are sucking on his thumb. It is stiff and salty and—<i>Mmnh.</i> You grasp that hand in both of yours and close your eyes and suck and suck and suck on his thumb. Meanwhile, with his free hand he is unbuttoning your blouse. Deftly he peels it off you and—oh, but he must combine genius with magnificent dexterity and skill and practice, for with one hand he gets your bra to unclasp and fall off.<br/>
<br/>
But he doesn't go for your breasts. He next puts his hand down the small of your back and slides it against your skin until he's got his palm spread over one of your ass cheeks. His hand is chilly, but that only gives you a tingle which gives you a buzz, and you are suddenly arching your back and gasping in the back of your throat. He pops his thumb from your mouth and pulls you in for a much harder and savage kiss than he'd given you before, and you return it.<br/>
<br/>
For you are now, despite yourself, starting to get wet and excited.<br/>
<br/>
Steve lets you pull his polo shirt off, exposing a lean, muscular chest and a thick rug of hair that you dig your fingers into. He slides down the pillar onto his back and lifts his hips so he can wriggle out of his shorts and underwear. A long, thick shaft rises to meet you, one that is noticeably bigger than the one Karl has.<br/>
<br/>
You are now thrumming quite excitedly, so when Patterson murmurs "Condom?" you murmur back "No, I'm okay. I'm better than okay. I'm—"<br/>
<br/>
With frantic desperation you scramble off him and tear at your boots and skirt and stockings and everything else between you and him. When you are naked and exposed to him, you climb onto him, brace yourself with your hands on his shoulders, and slide—<br/>
<br/>
And raise up.<br/>
<br/>
And slide down a little farther than before—<br/>
<br/>
And raise up. <br/>
<br/>
And slide down a little farther than before—<br/>
<br/>
It's like it will never end, and each time you settle a little more onto him it's like being touched in a new spot by a hot match. You are soon shuddering and gasping. And when you are settled firmly upon him, groaning and choking—<br/>
<br/>
He begins to gently, rhythmically thrust.<br/>
<br/>
The seconds are like a succession of soap bubbles that swell and pop, one after the other. You live in each moment and in each one only, and each moment you only half grasp before it bursts with the swelling of a new moment. You are conscious of only two things: the extraordinarily pleasant pains happening deep in that cleft between your legs, and the pressure of the heels of your hands upon Patterson's shoulders. Everything else, every conscious thought, is being torn into soft pieces, like tissue paper.<br/>
<br/>
Then Patterson's thrusts become very fast and hard, and you're forced up on a spouting column. But it doesn't discharge your own needs, and when his hips sink back to rest on the mat, you follow him and fall onto him with your forearms on his shoulders, and your pain-wracked face next to his. "Oh God, Steve," you groan piteously. "I'm so close. I'm so close."<br/>
<br/>
So he rallies and resumes—with less energy, it must be said—pumping inside you. At last, there's something like a shattering spark leaping across an empty space, and you try to go in about five different ways at once: up, down, forward, backwards, and spread across Steve's torso like peanut butter on bread.<br/>
<br/>
You fall again with your face against his, and he grips your head between his hands and kisses you gently. You whimper and moan and—"Oh God," you croak. "Did I scream?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," he says with a soft snicker.<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus. Well, I've never had it like, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
He laughs again—not a pleasant sound. Something rattles nearby. "I just kicked something," he says. "Is that your bag?"<br/>
<br/>
"Probably."<br/>
<br/>
"What's in it? That surprise."<br/>
<br/>
"Hm? Oh yeah. I'll show you."<br/>
<br/>
You have to lift yourself off him, and a sloppy business it is, too. Once disentangled from him, you feel about until you've got a hand inside the bag.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck. There are two masks in there. One's the blank and the other is Connor's.</i><br/>
<br/>
Well, it doesn't matter. Both will knock him out, and if you put the wrong one on him, you can take it off him again. You pull out a mask, get it oriented the right way, and feel your way back to your victim. Your eyes have long since adjusted to the dark, and his will have too, but he won't be able to make out the mask—much less stop you as you drop it onto his face. <br/>
<br/>
And on it goes, and you sit back on your heels with a sigh when he doesn't turn into Connor.<br/>
<br/>
Speaking of whom—<br/>
<br/>
You take your phone from the bag and call him: "Hey, I'm ready for you. Where are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"School parking lot."<br/>
<br/>
"Be down in a minute to let you in."<br/>
<br/>
But as you lower the phone you pause at a noise. It's like indistinct whispering forming indistinct words. <br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit!</i> Is there someone in here with you?</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112211111111122122222
author_id: seuzz
title: A Change of Lineup for the Basketball Squad
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Is it a voice that you hear, in the darkness of the gym loft? It's very faint, and nothing about it sounds especially like human speech. It's like a scratching at the air, closer to the sound that the tips of branches might make if they were being lightly dragged across a window pane. You strain your ears. There's a breathiness inside the sound, which could make it a human voice whispering urgently. You get to your feet and turn your head this way and that, but can't pin down a direction for it to be coming from. At most, it sounds like it's coming from high up near the ceiling.<br/>
<br/>
That's what convinces you to dismiss it as dead leaves rattling under the eaves. Besides, Connor is waiting for you downstairs.<br/>
<br/>
Naked and barefoot you feel your way down the stairs and scamper across the gym floor. You manage to miss the door and have to grope your way along the wall until you find it, and grope some more until you get to the lock. The deadbolt hisses softly as you twist it open.<br/>
<br/>
The door bangs against you suddenly, and a figure is inside with you, along with a gust of cool air. "Will?" says a voice quietly.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm here."<br/>
<br/>
"Finally. You were only forever. Were you sucking him off first?"<br/>
<br/>
You don't answer that, and only pull Connor across the gym toward where you think the stairs are.<br/>
<br/>
"What took so long?"<br/>
<br/>
"I had to make out with him, okay?" you snap. "You happy to hear that?" Connor stops in his tracks, jerking you to a stop too. "I had to catch him off guard, you know? He's bigger than me, and meaner and—"<br/>
<br/>
"Way to take one for the team," Connor snickers. "Is it gonna be a pleasant memory for me?"<br/>
<br/>
"If you just want the memories of it, Hutchison, and not the real thing, keep talking. Where are the fucking stairs?"<br/>
<br/>
A short search in the dark reveals them, and you pull Connor up them. "Jesus, are you naked?" he asks as you step into the loft.<br/>
<br/>
"I told you I—! Shhh! Listen! Do you hear that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hear what?"<br/>
<br/>
"If you'll shut up—" You freeze and strain your ears, but that sound has stopped. "Never mind, I guess it's nothing. This place is creepy in the dark, and I thought I was hearing things."<br/>
<br/>
Connor grunts. "Is that Steve over there? Oof! I guess it is." His shadow crouches. "God, he's naked all the way up—Gyah! Well, I should get used to it. I'll be walking around with it myself. Where's the stuff? Is there a light in here?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know where the switch would be. And the bag should be— Here it is." You guide Connor's hand to it. "Has the mask finished copying him?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. And I can't seal it in the dark. I'll have to take it down to my car, use the dome light so I can see."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not leaving me up here alone with him! If he wakes up, he'll kill me!"<br/>
<br/>
"So put my mask on him," he says, and adds with a sigh, "and I'll take him down with me. Will that work for you?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your mind is in a whirl as Connor fastens together his doppelganger. You can hear him talking to himself in the dark, and the sound of clothes being put on, and then he's telling you he'll be back in a few minutes. You crouch on the gym mat, which is still warm from Patterson's body, and hug yourself. But after a few minutes you decide you'd rather be dressed when he gets back.<br/>
<br/>
That's the part you're not sure you're going to like: dealing regularly with a "Steve Patterson." Granted, it'll just be Connor, and Connor isn't scary. But you can tell that you've picked up an ability to order people around just by inhabiting Kelsey's mask. Won't Connor gradually acquire more of Steve's alpha qualities? And he'll be looking to get laid with you. Regularly.<br/>
<br/>
How in the world did you manage to arrange things so that you're servicing Connor Hutchison?<br/>
<br/>
Oh yeah. You wanted to take Kelsey on as an alias on a semi-permanent basis, and as the price for surrendering her mask to you, Connor said you'd have to—<br/>
<br/>
Well, you haven't had to do it with him yet, as himself or in any disguise. No, you've only had to do it with the real Karl Hennepin and the real Steve Patterson. Go, you!<br/>
<br/>
You're lost in these thoughts as you dress, and you've just finished when the door creaks open again. "I guess we're ready," Connor says hoarsely. "Where are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right in front of you."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh. Here." Something cold gets pressed into your hand: a mask. "Hold that while I get my clothes off."<br/>
<br/>
Your breath begins to come in short gasps. Are you excited, or terrified? Maybe both, as you are two people simultaneously. The soft thud of clothes hitting the floor jars you.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I'm ready for it." Hands twitch the mask from you, and in the dark comes the sound of a deep breath being drawn, and a choked gurgle. Then silence.<br/>
<br/>
You are standing on your own two feet, though a little awkwardly, and suddenly put your hand out to steady yourself when you feel yourself coming over with a dizzy spell. You crouch, and gingerly feel along the mat. Your fingers bump hard against a yielding surface: human flesh.<br/>
<br/>
It's hairy, and as you lightly rub it with your palm decide that it's a knee and thigh. There's no response to your touch as you run your hand up further, dodging the crotch, and come to that rug of hair on the massive chest. To the face you go, and the crown: Yes, that short, stiff hair would be Patterson's, for Connor's hair is soft and curly. You briefly caress the side of his face, then sit back to wait for him to wake.<br/>
<br/>
It seems to take a very long time.<br/>
<br/>
But there comes after a few minutes the sound of someone stirring and an inarticulate voice. "Are you awake?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Ngh. I think so. Did the change, uh—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Pretty sure it did."<br/>
<br/>
A pause. "Oh. Did you feel me up?" The snicker in the voice is unmistakable.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you already getting Steve's personality?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry, it was just an obvious thing to say. Yeah, this doesn't feel like my old equipment. Jeez, I'm cold. Where are his clothes? What was he wearing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Shorts and a shirt."<br/>
<br/>
"You're kidding. Fuck, I guess he was counting on playing Boy Scout, rubbing his stick against your— Sorry." There's a rustling of cloth. "Do you have to be anywhere?"<br/>
<br/>
"Can we wait until you're settled in before we fuck, Connor?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was only wondering if we can talk. How do we want to handle this?"<br/>
<br/>
"You mean setting us up as a, uh—?" You can't bring yourself to say it. "Show up at my locker tomorrow before first, ask me what I'm doing Friday."<br/>
<br/>
"Shit, you're going to make me wait that long?"<br/>
<br/>
You're tempted to say "Yes," but that's not actually your plan. "No, I'll tell you I'm busy, so then you ask about Thursday. We'll keep pushing it forward until Tuesday—tomorrow night—and I'll say yes, I'll meet you someplace for coffee. After that, next day, start looking for me, try to insert yourself into whatever I'm doing."<br/>
<br/>
"So I have to chase you." He sounds disappointed.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course. But I'll make sure people know I want you."<br/>
<br/>
When he's dressed, you stumble down the stairs and across the gym with much less confidence than you did earlier when someone built like Steve Patterson guided you in. At the side door, he feels around until he finds his keys so he can lock the gym up. "I can't believe they give students the run of the place," he says.<br/>
<br/>
Outside, under the lights, you can make him out better, and yes, it's Steve Patterson. He's so tall that your head can fit under his chin. At his car, he lightly grasps your hand. "Just wanted to end it all by saying I had a great time," he says with light irony. "I never felt quite like this before."<br/>
<br/>
"Funny." You fondle his fingers briefly, then shake him off. "We'll get started the right way tomorrow. See you then."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll wanna try out your BMW at some point," he calls as you open your car door. You give him a wry smile, which he probably doesn't see, and don't reply.<br/>
<br/>
At home, you reply to texts by pretending you've been doing homework, and then you do your homework, and then you text some more about the Garners and all that crap. By eleven you've taken a self-indulgent bath and slipped into bed, where you fantasize about Cindy and Chelsea while rubbing yourself all over.<br/>
<br/>
But when you wake up in the middle of the night, it's because of dreams about Steve Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're expecting to see him the next morning, but pretending you're not, and are talking casually to Amanda when you feel a strong hand on your shoulder. Amanda blanches a little as the hand forces you around. Steve Patterson—radiant confidence in his eyes; either Connor is doing a great act, or he got into character overnight—looks down at you. "You, me, Friday night," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Who says?" you retort. "I've got plans."<br/>
<br/>
"Thursday night."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh-uh."<br/>
<br/>
"Wednesday."<br/>
<br/>
"Try again," you sneer.<br/>
<br/>
"Tonight."<br/>
<br/>
You sigh deeply. "I'll have coffee with you, Steve, if it'll get you to go away."<br/>
<br/>
"Five o'clock. Starbucks."<br/>
<br/>
You snort. "If that's the best you can come up with."<br/>
<br/>
"We'll go someplace else afterward." He smiles crookedly and steps back into the crowd, easily forcing his way in.<br/>
<br/>
"What?" you ask Amanda when you've turned back around and can see her face.<br/>
<br/>
"I just thought <i>you'd</i> be smart enough not to get mixed up with the assholes on the basketball squad," she says. "Even if Eva isn't."</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111122111111111221222221
author_id: seuzz
title: Stirring the Plot
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's a Tuesday, and Tuesdays are almost by definition "normal" days. Mondays are days to catch up with others about the weekend. Fridays are special because it's practically the weekend, and Thursdays are anticipations of it. Wednesdays are the hinge of the week. And that's what makes Tuesdays unique: because they are the only day of the week that is normal.<br/>
<br/>
First period is Sociology with Mr. Walberg—a class that Kelsey, like you, gags on but endures with the brittle smile of a girl ambitious for an A. You take notes in a loopy handwriting while the old walrus lectures. The room is clotted with AP snots, but you're the snottiest of them, and when Brooke pokes you in the back and asks if she can borrow some pencil lead, you give it to her while exchanging an eye roll with Amanda.<br/>
<br/>
You've got Brooke for second period as well: Classical Literature I. Adrian Semple is also in there, and when you catch him smirking in your direction, you lean in to whisper to Brooke about how disgusting he is, with his dirty hair and smelly clothes, while casting prune-faced looks in Semple's direction. He notices your actions—he can't miss them—but he only smirks to himself all the harder. Creep.<br/>
<br/>
And Brooke follows you to third period also: AP World History. Jessica should be in there too, but it looks like the Garner girls are absent again. Lisa is also in that class, and after a fractional hesitation that is finally overthrown by Kelsey's lust for gossip, you lean in to ask your old girlfriend if she's heard any more from Eva and Jessica.<br/>
<br/>
"They're planning to be back in school tomorrow," she says. "It's just so hard for them, you know," she adds wistfully.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know why it would be. It's Marc who's in trouble."<br/>
<br/>
"He's their brother, Kelsey."<br/>
<br/>
"Are they afraid of sympathy? Because that's all they're going to get. Lots and lots of sympathy."<br/>
<br/>
Your words may be sympathetic but your tone is rough, and Lisa looks baffled and a little uneasy at them. "Wouldn't it be hard for you if it were your brother?"<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy hasn't stopped coming to class, and her boyfriend's in the same fix," you point out. "No one's going to blame them for what Marc did, and they're just making themselves look like total drama hags." Now Lisa does look shocked at your words. "It's for their own good, Lisa." You turn around in your chair and take out your iPhone to check a text that's just come in. You catch Brooke looking at you. "What?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing," she says, and turns around.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Pfft,</i> Kelsey says inside your head. <i>Dumb cows.</i><br/>
<br/>
It hurts to think that of Lisa, but it's also hard not to look at her through Kelsey's eyes. To you, Lisa was the height of beauty. Soft skin, soft hair, a gentle manner, a sweet disposition, and always beautifully dressed. But Kelsey thinks she's a dim bulb: academically undistinguished; easily gulled; romantically foolish; and with a hopelessly dowdy fashion style. Lisa would make a good housewife; and for Kelsey Blankenship, "good housewife" is just about the most crushing insult possible.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Kelsey is usually impatient with Lisa, but she usually spends her fourth period study hall with her and a study group. Today, though, you've prearranged to meet Lin Pol in the library. She's not along, though, when you sweep in—Adrian Semple is sitting with her, and they're looking at an iPhone. Adrian is grinning again, and Lin has her eyebrows up. They both jump when they see you, and Adrian looks very smug as he puts it away. You do your best to ignore him. "I've got cheerleader stuff to talk to you about," you grandly declare to Lin.<br/>
<br/>
"Cool," says Adrian.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't say I needed to talk to <i>you,</i>" you retort with freezing disdain. Semple doesn't bother to hide a gleeful smile as he gathers his stuff and leaves. Lin is also smiling, though her expression is rather more ghastly in aspect, as though your presence has panicked her. You ignore her as you lay out your "study materials", letting her stew in suspense, until you're ready. Then you let her have it. "What the <i>fuck</i> is Chelsea up to?" you ask Lin in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
She glances around. "I didn't know she was up to something. It's not like she tells me anything."<br/>
<br/>
"So you haven't heard about it from anyone?"<br/>
<br/>
"Heard <i>what,</i> Kelsey?"<br/>
<br/>
You look about for eavesdroppers, then casually put your head close to Lin's. "I hear that Chelsea's going to start cleaning out the squad."<br/>
<br/>
Lin's eyes widen. "Cleaning out? How?"<br/>
<br/>
"Culling the deadwood, one at a time. Or what she considers deadwood. By the time she's done—" You make a face. "It'll all be girls that <i>she's</i> picked."<br/>
<br/>
Lin snorts. "She's the squad captain, but she can't fire people, and if they don't quit—"<br/>
<br/>
"You think she can't find a way to make people quit? And she's got Coach Tesla in her back pocket. I mean, <i>fuck</i>, Lin—" You toss your hair angrily. "I'd be running the squad today if she hadn't totally fucked us all over at the trials."<br/>
<br/>
Lin shrugs. "So let her try."<br/>
<br/>
"You can't give her a chance to!" You grasp Lin by the wrist and speak urgently. "You have to go to Coach Tesla, Lin. You and Yumi and Cindy and Eva and Jessica. From what I hear—"<br/>
<br/>
"Who's telling you this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Never mind, I've got my sources. But from what I've heard, that new girl—Michelle? She's the first one Chelsea's going to get rid of, but she's not going to be the last. And once she's shown she can knock off one of you guys—"<br/>
<br/>
"So what are we supposed to do, Kelsey?"<br/>
<br/>
You regard her long and evenly. "The new girl's a lost cause," you finally say. "But as soon as she's gone—" You look around, and lean in close. "Then all you guys need to go to Coach Tesla and tell her that Chelsea's got to bring <i>me</i> back onto the squad."<br/>
<br/>
Lin rears back. "You?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is there something wrong with me?" you bridle.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea's not going to ask you to come back onto the squad!"<br/>
<br/>
"That's why you have to talk to Coach Tesla." You give her a meaningful look.<br/>
<br/>
"But Coach Tesla isn't going to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Just talk to her, Lin. Did you ever hear of <i>trying</i>? You can't win if you don't try. And you want Cindy to be squad captain, don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
Now she does a double take. "Cindy?" she says weakly.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, Cindy." You rest a clenched fist on the table. "Don't you want Cindy to be squad captain?"<br/>
<br/>
Lin licks her lips. "Well ... Yes."<br/>
<br/>
"Then you need <i>me</i> on the squad so Cindy will have the votes. It'll be six to four if I'm there. I can bring Eva and Jessica along, Cindy will have you and Yumi." You nod primly. "<i>That's</i> how you get rid of Chelsea and make Cindy captain."<br/>
<br/>
Now Lin looks gobsmacked. "Have you been—?" She puts her face only inches from yours. "Have you and Cindy been, um—?"<br/>
<br/>
"I've talked to her a little, but she has to have plausible deniability."<br/>
<br/>
Lin's expression turns thoughtful. "So why does it have to be <i>you</i> to replace Michelle?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I'm the natural one to bring back onto the squad. I was completely lined up to take over as captain at the end of the year, you know. Lianna was grooming me."<br/>
<br/>
Lin's eyes narrow. "Are you trying to become captain?"<br/>
<br/>
"Please." You roll your eyes. "That ship sailed a long time ago. This is about <i>Chelsea,</i> and about doing the right thing for the squad."<br/>
<br/>
Lin looks dubious, but agrees to talk to Yumi about it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
This was not an improvised conversation. You'd been thinking about it all last night: How to manage the coup d'etat. There was only one obvious way to do it, but it depended on the Garners being on hand. Now that Lisa has told you they'll be back tomorrow, you can put it into effect.<br/>
<br/>
It's a two-stage process. First, get Chelsea—Justin, that is—to push Michelle Estrich off the squad. That won't be any loss to anyone. She's new to town, and only got onto the squad because of pre-semester scheming on Chelsea's part. She's mediocre by all accounts, and not at all popular personally.<br/>
<br/>
But it won't be believable if Chelsea invites you back on: hence, the need for Coach Tesla to buckle under pressure from the other squad members. And if Coach Tesla doesn't play along? Then Chelsea—Justin—will add you anyway and pretend to everyone that it was the coach who forced it.<br/>
<br/>
Almost instantly you will call a vote of no confidence in Chelsea, which will certainly carry by six votes to four.<br/>
<br/>
Then the second part: You'll call for a secret ballot straw poll for a new captain, and you'll emerge with four votes: your own, plus Eva, Jessica, and (secretly, as it's by secret ballot) Chelsea. Cindy—Caleb—will pretend to see the writing on the wall, and instantly move for a vote to make you captain. With Cindy's support, you'll win the vote when Cindy drags Lin and Yumi along. Abracadabra, and the trick she is done!<br/>
<br/>
That takes care of the day's business, as far as you're concerned. The last half of the school day—lunch, AP French IV, Statistics, and Student Congress—are just busywork. Then comes tennis practice—a very satisfying workout—and then it's time to get ready for the "coffee date" with Steve.<br/>
<br/>
But as you're heading into the locker room to change, you get a text from Karl Hennepin. He wants to meet with you.</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111221111111112212222212
author_id: seuzz
title: Causes for Envy
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Karl—and it's the real Karl, of course—is yesterday's news. You ignore his text.<br/>
<br/>
You played tennis in a t-shirt and shorts. For your meeting with Steve, though, you change into your best tennis togs: it will be nice to look so fresh in clothes that you can pretend came straight off the court. You wind up looking a bit like a sailor, albeit a very sexy girl sailor: white short-shorts under a pleated white skirt; soft, white cotton top with a blue neckerchief; white ankle socks and blazingly new white Converse sneakers. In the mirror you turn around and around, admiring the contrast between tanned, shapely arms and legs and the snowy outfit. If you lived in California instead of this dumpy town you could dress like this all the time!<br/>
<br/>
Then out to your lovely BMW and the purring drive over to Starbucks. It surprises you that Connor wants to meet at the place where he works, and where he'll see his doppelganger slaving away behind the counter. In fact, it surprises you so much that you text him to see if he wants to change venues. The Milagro Beanfield Warehouse is where Kelsey prefers to go.<br/>
<br/>
It's lucky you did text him: Connor clarifies that he wants to meet at the Starbucks on Twentieth, not on Orlando.<br/>
<br/>
Despite that confusion, you still beat him out there, and spend nearly ten minutes gazing dreamily out into the street. You love the feel of your bare legs crossing each other, and you lightly clasp one knee in your hand as you lean back. Life really is satisfying, you reflect, when you're a rich, in-shape eighteen-year-old girl with an Ivy League education to look forward to, and after that a—<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, God damn it!</i> Why did Connor have to choose this place? <i>Fuck!</i> You should have insisted on Milagro or some other place! <i>Thoughtless shit-for-brains should have—</i><br/>
<br/>
Jonathan Straussler has just come in. You turn your head and try to hide your face by leaning into your hand.<br/>
<br/>
The Strausslers are the richest people in town, and it really grinds your gizzard—Well, it grinds Kelsey's gizzard—to have them as rivals. But there really is no competition, and if the Blankenships rival the Strausslers in wealth, then you'd have to say that the Prescotts rival the Blankenships. For there just is no comparison between the money that comes from owning a chain of car dealerships and the money that comes from owning a high tech company. The Blankenships may live in a mansion, but the Strausslers live in a fucking castle.<br/>
<br/>
But the real problem isn't that Jonathan—the kid—comes from money. The problem is that he plays basketball for Eastman High—Westside's mortal rival—and it looks like he'll be sitting around Starbucks when "Steve Patterson" arrives. That is going to make things awkward.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey. Kelsey."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck.</i> He's already noticed you.<br/>
<br/>
"Jonathan!" The name squirts out of you on an oily stream of fake enthusiasm. "Hi!"<br/>
<br/>
Jonathan is about six-foot-two and quite handsome. He's blonde, with limpid blue eyes and a mouth that curves up easily into an elfin smile; his face is still tan from summer, but roses show in his cheeks beneath the brown.<br/>
<br/>
That's another reason Kelsey can't stand him. He's desirable, and she hates that he's desirable and is also her superior—in wealth—at something she really values. It galls her that if they were dating, he'd still be "the rich one" in the relationship.<br/>
<br/>
But it looks like there's no chance of dating anyway. Jonathan's got his arm draped around a tiny little girl who looks like she's about twelve years old. You turn your very wide and very brittle smile on her. "Oh hey, this is Monique," Jonathan says with lazy indifference. "Monique, this is Kelsey Blankenship. Her dad's <i>that</i> Blankenship."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh!" Monique looks genuinely impressed, so you decide to like her a tiny bit more. "I'm kind of surprised I haven't seen you at school."<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey goes to Westside," Jonathan says. "That's how come." Monique looks embarrassed. "You're looking good," he says to you.<br/>
<br/>
You turn so he can get a better look at your legs. "Thanks! I hope I look good." You glance around. "Just so you know, I'm meeting Steve Patterson here."<br/>
<br/>
Jonathan is unfazed. "Cool. Is this a date?"<br/>
<br/>
"He badgered me into it. You know what he's like on the court? Same way in school."<br/>
<br/>
"Need me to ref from the side?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll be okay. Besides, Monique probably wants you watching her, not me." You turn a little more in your chair, showing a little more leg and pushing your boobs out. <i>Little Miss Jailbait needs more of both.</i><br/>
<br/>
Jonathan lifts his hand in a casual farewell; Monique murmurs something; and they go up to the counter, with the girl clasping both arms more tightly about him. You go back to staring out the window, and when you glance back spot the mismatched pair in a corner on the other side of the cafe. Are they really dating? You'll have to ask around.<br/>
<br/>
A few minutes later, Steve Patterson swaggers confidently in. He lifts his chin at you without taking his sunglasses off, and jerks his head at the counter. "Buy me something decaf," you order. "Nonfat, no foam."<br/>
<br/>
"How about a cup of tepid water?"<br/>
<br/>
You turn away, crossing your arms and waggling your foot impatiently until he returns with a tray. For you, it's just a decaf roast. For himself, something tall with a head of foam. "You look very fresh," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"You act very fresh. Impress me, Steve."<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. "I fucked Olivia Byrne last week. She's been hanging out at the other Starbucks just on the off chance of running into me."<br/>
<br/>
"Really? Someone told me she was lusting for one of the baristas."<br/>
<br/>
"Not true. Apparently I let drop that I like to hang out at Starbucks, so that's what she started doing. Then I heard that's what she'd been doing, so I went down to find her. And there she was, so I picked her up, and I fucked her."<br/>
<br/>
"That's such a charming story. And no, I didn't hear about it."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess she wouldn't have told you. I took her anally." He leans back, as though he's very impressed with himself.<br/>
<br/>
"And <i>that's</i> disgusting. If that's the best you can do—"<br/>
<br/>
"I can do better with you. You inspire me. Last night—"<br/>
<br/>
"Last night didn't happen," you say through stiff lips.<br/>
<br/>
"But it did. Gordon knows it did."<br/>
<br/>
"Fucker."<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. "It'll be okay. Anyway, it's best to jump all the way to doing it without protection because we're so mad for each other. Besides," he adds. "You promised."<br/>
<br/>
"Can't you try to be sweet and seductive? Jonathan Straussler's over there watching, you know. So we should have at least thirty minutes where we're talking— Will you look at me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry. Just trying to spot— Damn. You know, if that was one of us sitting over there, we'd be so fucking rich."<br/>
<br/>
"One of us is sitting in Kelsey's chair, so we're already rich," you remind him.<br/>
<br/>
"Not like— Fuck!"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't tell me that's something you want. Because I agreed to Steve, not to—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, <i>I</i> agreed to Steve. But what about Justin, maybe we could get fucking Richie Rich for <i>him.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"He's playing Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"Not forever. Oh, that's what we can talk about. You made those plans with Justin yet for the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't talked with him, but I'm setting it up. I should talk to Kendra before we—What?" Steve has sucked in a hard breath.<br/>
<br/>
"Kendra is an <i>awesome</i> lay."<br/>
<br/>
You facepalm. "It makes me so hot and wet to hear you say that, and maybe if we put Justin in a mask of her we could all enjoy an awesome—"<br/>
<br/>
Steve bolts up straight. "Yeah, why don't we?" he exclaims. "You remember what he said last Friday! He wants to be Kendra."<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't you just say you wanted him to be Jonathan Straussler?"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes widen. "But why can't we—? Whoa!" His eyes gleam.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you thinking now? Oh God, maybe I don't want to—"<br/>
<br/>
He leans in close, to speak in a very hushed tone. "Why can't we have more than one apiece?" he says. "That stuff in our masks, that turned people into minions. You know. That's why we're here, this way, now. Because Kelsey's turned into your minion, and Steve is turned into mine. But why do we only have one minion apiece? Why can't we do it with two or three or more?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because we can't hide two people under that mask of me," you point out. "At least, I don't think we can."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be an idiot. I mean, we just put that stuff inside another mask—a mask of the person himself or herself—and put the mask on them. Like, Justin stays as Chelsea, but we put some of his stuff, that paste, inside a mask of Kendra, and we put the mask on Kendra. Wouldn't that turn her into a minion? A minion of his?"<br/>
<br/>
"Wouldn't it just be Kendra wearing a Kendra mask?"<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe it would," he admits. "Or—!" He gestures excitedly in what seems to you more of a Connor-like way than a Steve-like way. "Or we put Justin's stuff in a mask of Kendra and in a mask of Straussler over there. Then we put Kendra's mask on Straussler and his mask on her. Just like we put Justin's mask on Chelsea. Then he's got three minions! Them too plus the minion of himself!"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh." Yes, now you see what he means. You could just keep making minions if you just kept making masks and hanging them on different people.<br/>
<br/>
Wait, could you really? "If it worked that way," you ask, "how come no one's done it before? That's a really old book, and someone must have tried making masks before. Why didn't they conquer the world with it? It can't work that way."<br/>
<br/>
"We could try it, see what happens."</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112211111111122122222122
author_id: seuzz
title: The Busted Book
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"It could be dangerous," you say. "Making lots of minions. The magic might not allow it. At the very least, we should check the book to see what it says."<br/>
<br/>
"The book doesn't say anything," says Patterson. "Just how to make minions."<br/>
<br/>
"Then we go on to the next spell—"<br/>
<br/>
"We can't go on to the next spell. I told you."<br/>
<br/>
You blink. "No you didn't. Tell me what?"<br/>
<br/>
Now he blinks. "I didn't? I'm sure I did. The book is damaged, we can't go any further into it."<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes widen. "What the fuck did you do to my property, Hutchison?"<br/>
<br/>
It's Connor, but he's got Patterson's eyes, and they turn very cold. "I didn't do anything to it, Prescott. It was that way when we turned the page after the last spell."<br/>
<br/>
"What way do you mean it's torn?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's torn away. Part of a page was torn away, so we can't complete the spell."<br/>
<br/>
You grab up your purse and start to rise. "Show me."<br/>
<br/>
With a sigh he follows you out to the parking lot. Out of the corner of your eye you see Straussler watching you curiously.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You could scream. You could scream and you could punch somebody. You come very close to doing exactly that. The magic book is broken.<br/>
<br/>
Well, not completely. All the pages for all the spells that you've uncovered are still there, and presumably they all still work. And Connor explains that it's not his or Justin's fault. They unlocked the spell that puts a minion inside a mask, and they turned the page, and they found that—<br/>
<br/>
As he said, the page with the next spell has been torn: the bottom half of it is completely gone. All that's left of it is a list of ingredients. There are no instructions for how to put them together, and no sigil to use in executing the spell.<br/>
<br/>
And if you can't execute the spell, then you can't turn the page to get at the next spell.<br/>
<br/>
As for that next spell, what you can see of it is entirely unreadable. That's the magic of the book at work, you suppose: You're not supposed to get at the next spell until you perform the one that comes before it. So even though you can see the bottom half of the next page, the text is entirely illegible. The words waver and blur in a way that gives you a headache when you try to make them out.<br/>
<br/>
You allow yourself a short scream of frustration, and thump the book shut. "I told you so," says Patterson.<br/>
<br/>
"I had to see it for myself. Well, we're definitely not going to make extra minions for ourselves," you declare. "The book's already too full of surprises, and if someone tore that page out—" You tap your foot. "It looks like sabotage."<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, Justin and I didn't—"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't say it was you. Someone who owned the book beforehand must've done it. God! It's like they were so horrified by what came next that decided to stop anyone from ever doing it."<br/>
<br/>
"It must've been something pretty bad," says Patterson dryly, "if it was worse than turning someone into a minion."<br/>
<br/>
You make a face. "Either way, everyone's just going to have to get used to having only one minion."<br/>
<br/>
Patterson stares at you, like he's trying to daunt you into changing your mind. Then he shrugs. "Alright." He looks around, then puts his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. "You know, as long as we're here—"<br/>
<br/>
"Here" is the elementary school basement, naturally. It's grimy and dusty and there are no soft surfaces, so you push back against him. "Not here."<br/>
<br/>
"So where? The Donna's not far away. Or we could go back up to the school."<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't say I was going to do anything with you at all."<br/>
<br/>
A muscle in his cheek twitches. "We had a deal, Prescott," he says in a very cold voice.<br/>
<br/>
"The deal was for—" You sigh. He's right, you made a deal. "Alright, but not here. We'll go back up to the school. Get rid of your asshole friends, make sure we've got the fuck room all to ourselves."<br/>
<br/>
"That's my girl." He bends you roughly to the side and nips at the side your neck. In his strong arms you can barely struggle before he lets you back up again. "I jacked off twice last night while thinking about you."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, that's a real turn on for me," you retort, and straighten out your clothes.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
He arranges for the two of you to have the gym loft to yourselves, and you follow him back over to Westside. There's still plenty of light as you settle down onto the gym mat with him, so there's no missing any of the details of what you do next. He strips down to nothing, and so do you, and he reclines on the mat and you slide down onto him. For you it's more mechanical than pleasurable, but Connor is sufficiently gentlemanly that he insists on bringing you to a climax after he's had his. It's not a thunderous one, but it's good enough to relax you. After that, you clean yourself in the girls' shower and get home in time for supper.<br/>
<br/>
You text Justin at Chelsea's number to see if he can talk, and then you have a long phone conversation about plans for the cheerleader squad. Tomorrow morning, he says, he'll force Michelle Estrich off the squad; shortly after that news breaks, you'll push Lin and the others into confronting Coach Tesla with an ultimatum. Thursday afternoon, Justin will call you with an offer to join the squad, which you will accept; and you'll arrange to have that vote of no confidence taken.<br/>
<br/>
There's only one change to your plan: After talking it over, you decide it would be best if Caleb—as Cindy—made the motion of no confidence. So you text Caleb to see if he can talk. <i>txt back when i can,</i> he says.<br/>
<br/>
So you go back to texting other friends while doing homework. You strike gossip gold when a long-shot text to an acquaintance at Eastman gives you a lead on what that riot at the Warehouse was about, and you nearly hyperventilate over it. For a very long time you study the text, wondering if it is something you should share or hold back.<br/>
<br/>
The fight had to do with Hannah Westrick.<br/>
<br/>
Everyone has been assuming that Marc and Marcos—who plays on the Westside soccer team with Marc—and Seth got in a fight with Eastman soccer players. But it turns out it was those six on one side against some other people. Pictures of drunk Hannah slobbering all over some Warehouse degenerates have been circulating widely, and Marc rounded up a posse that included some of her guy soccer-playing friends from Eastman to put the smackdown on some of those guys in the pictures. It got out of hand because those other guys had some friends there, and that's how the quasi-riot broke out.<br/>
<br/>
The news leaves you feeling very guilty, because of course none of this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't put on a mask of Hannah and gone to the Warehouse while pretending to be her. But what can you do about it?<br/>
<br/>
The smart thing is to take Hannah's and the Garners' side in it. You already need the girls as allies on the cheerleader squad, and you're already taking their side of it in their fight with Geoff Mansfield over what happened at the city library. But would you help them or hurt them by passing around this news that you've learned?<br/>
<br/>
You text Jessica, asking if she can talk.<br/>
<br/>
She texts back fifteen minutes later, saying it's not a good time.<br/>
<br/>
You reply fast, saying that it's really urgent, about her and Eva and Marc and what happened at the Warehouse.<br/>
<br/>
Thirty minutes she calls you. She sounds vastly reluctant to talk.<br/>
<br/>
You open with a song and dance about how much you've been thinking about her and Eva and how you want to help them and how frustrated you've been that you've been able to talk—<br/>
<br/>
She cuts you short and asks what the emergency is.<br/>
<br/>
So you tell her what you've heard. "Is it true?"<br/>
<br/>
She doesn't answer right away. "Well, what if it is?" she says in a guarded and weary tone.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, what do you want me to say about it when it starts to get around? Because it will, Jessica."<br/>
<br/>
"Can't you ignore it?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, what do you want people to think? I don't want to say anything one way or another unless I know what—"<br/>
<br/>
"Can't you just not say <i>anything?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"What's this about, Jessica? Do you think I'm just going to make things worse? Is that what you think of me?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," she murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
"Because people are going to ask me what I think, and if I don't say anything they're going to assume that I'm thinking the worst. You know, if you can't say something nice—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>If you can't say something nice, your name must be Kelsey Blankenship,</i> you mordantly think.<br/>
<br/>
"So you need to give me something to tell people, tell me what you want them to think. Jessica!" you groan. It flies all over you, the way she is not going to let you help out.<br/>
<br/>
"There isn't anything you can say to help, Kelsey. It's just such a freaking mess."<br/>
<br/>
"Why is it such a mess?"<br/>
<br/>
"It just is. I'm really grateful that you want to help out, you really are a good friend. You will be supportive, won't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course I will!" You pretend to snuffle. "I care so much for you guys!"<br/>
<br/>
A little verbal hand-holding follows before you hang up.<br/>
<br/>
Then you spend a long time pondering whether to get the rest of your gang in on some kind of plan to help out the Garners—and Hannah.</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111122111111111221222221222
author_id: seuzz
title: Scrambled Egos
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>For half an hour you wrestle with the temptation to blast out texts to Connor and Caleb and Justin before you realize that you're wrestling with Kelsey's psyche. She's the one that wants to involve everyone in this drama. Oh, it's not that you don't care. But with a little distance you see that it really doesn't matter who learns what about the fight at the Warehouse. There's no managing it, so there's no point in trying.<br/>
<br/>
You're brushing your teeth when your phone pings with a text from Cindy Vredenburg: <i>free to talk what up?</i> You rinse and call her. "Just keeping you in the loop about tomorrow," you tell her. "Major drama happening first period."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. Chelsea—well, Justin—is going to give that girl Michelle her walking papers." You outline the plan for the week. "How does that all strike you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds good for you, man."<br/>
<br/>
It's a blow to hear the lack of emotion in her tone. "What's wrong? You're not jealous, are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Couldn't I be? I mean, here you come swinging in to become captain of the cheerleader squad, and I get to be the one who nominates you."<br/>
<br/>
For a moment you're speechless. You're on the point of launching a vituperative assault on Caleb's character when you catch yourself. Instead, you make an offer: "Wanna switch masks? I'll be Cindy and you can be Kelsey."<br/>
<br/>
That catches him off guard. "What? Why would—? This isn't about <i>me</i> wanting to be captain of the cheerleader squad!"<br/>
<br/>
"It isn't? Then why are you sounding so jealous? It isn't about me being captain either. We're just playing a couple of parts, Caleb, and if you wanna switch roles—"<br/>
<br/>
"You know, maybe I do," he says. "I don't mean I want to be Kelsey, and you probably don't want to be Cindy—"<br/>
<br/>
"Why? What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
He takes a deep breath, and sighs, then tells you. <br/>
<br/>
It's about Seth. Seth and Cindy, and the insane drama that resulted when she—Caleb—finally got back together with Seth today. It comes with a more detailed account of the fight at the Warehouse and its reasons—which are easy for you to follow, since you know the generalities—but the real drama came from Caleb having to figure out how to manage Seth when they met. Javits was expecting a lot of kissy-faced support from his girlfriend, and he was anticipating her admiration for the way he battled and put his own ass on the line for a girl's honor. Caleb, who naturally wasn't in a mood to make out with Seth Javits, gave in to another of Cindy's instincts: jealousy that he'd go to battle for another girl. When they parted, Caleb said, he wasn't sure Seth and Cindy were still an item; and although he'd prefer not to have to deal with Seth, and it didn't bother him at all to see Seth angry and upset, he despised the drama of the fight and was dreading having to deal with the aftermath.<br/>
<br/>
You use Kelsey's own instincts to talk him through the various intricacies of the case, but leaven it with what you think is your own sound common sense. "I think you need to make up with Javits, or break up with him totally and find yourself a new boyfriend," you crisply advise. "And do it in a hurry."<br/>
<br/>
"Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because you've said you're not sure you want to stick it out as Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"When did I say that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't you? I had the impression you did."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, <i>now</i> maybe I don't want to. But God, she's so sexy," he moans. "Don't you have any advice for fixing things so I can stay this way? At least for a little while?"<br/>
<br/>
"You can stay that way as long as you want. But the way I see it, you've got three options." You tick them off on your fingers, even though she can't see you. "One is that you make up with Seth. That's going to involve make-up sex and lots of baby talk, right?"<br/>
<br/>
It might be your imagination, but you think you hear gagging noises from the other side of the conversation.<br/>
<br/>
"The second is that you just muddle through with all the drama."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't like either of those, so what's the third?"<br/>
<br/>
"Third is that you find a new boyfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"Why can't I just break up with him and not go out with anyone?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because Cindy needs to be in a relationship when we let her out."<br/>
<br/>
"Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"It'll be less confusing for her when we let her back out."<br/>
<br/>
"Won't it be more confusing if she comes back and has a different boyfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
He's got a point, and you suddenly realize that you're only talking this way because Kelsey wants to manage Cindy's life for her. But you're not about to admit this to Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
Luckily, you spot a way out. "Don't you want to be Cindy's boyfriend? Get her a new boyfriend, and then when we let Cindy out and you can put on a mask of her new fuck toy."<br/>
<br/>
"That's an idea," Caleb admits after a long pause. He sounds awestruck.<br/>
<br/>
"So are we done now? Because I have to get to bed."<br/>
<br/>
However much fun there is in helping people manage their lives and their disguises, there does come a point when you've had too much fun in one day, and ten minutes later you're gratefully tucking yourself between some expensive sheets.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
No excitement is scheduled to happen until first period at the earliest, but you're on pins and needles almost from the moment you wake the next morning, and you groom and style yourself almost as if you were on your way to a date. At first you do yourself up expensively, then at the last minute swap jeans and blouse for designer athletic shorts and a designer hoodie—it'll be more in keeping with the look you want of a girl who can move well while looking good. You can feel everyone eyes on you as slide through the hall, and you lift your chin with proud insouciance.<br/>
<br/>
You vibrate all through first period, and can barely control yourself when you go into second, for Yumi Saito takes Classical Lit too, and you're sure she'll be full of news for you. She's already hunched in a desk, tapping furiously at her phone when you come in. You make a point of greeting her: "Hey, Yumi." But she only give you a quick look before diving back down into her texting. She's still texting when class starts, so you have to suffer agonies through the class period until it's over.<br/>
<br/>
And even then, even after you contrive to bump into her at the doorway, she still doesn't say anything to you about cheerleader practice. It's almost enough to make you wonder whether Justin made his move.<br/>
<br/>
Your doubts are not relieved during third period, which you share with Jessica. This is your first time seeing her since you let her back out again over the weekend, and after your talk with her last night you have to coo sympathetically over her during the few moments you have to talk. On the way out after class you do manage to ask her how cheerleading practice went. But she only tells you it was "okay."<br/>
<br/>
So then it's to the library, where you can at least corner Lin.<br/>
<br/>
Or you could if Lin were there. She isn't.<br/>
<br/>
So you send Chelsea a text: <i>anything happen @ practice?</i><br/>
<br/>
<i>all on schedule,</i> she replies.<br/>
<br/>
You make a face and slump into your seat. So why haven't you heard anything? "Something wrong," Lisa asks, for you've sat down next to her.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, nothing worth worrying about," you say, and decide to distract yourself by doing schoolwork with her. But still, in the back of your brain it gnaws at you: Why haven't you heard anything about Michelle getting kicked off the squad?<br/>
<br/>
Then, about halfway through study hall, the door opens and Lin walks in. <i>About freaking time!</i><br/>
<br/>
She stops dead when she sees you, and turns to leave. You feel your face fall.<br/>
<br/>
But she stops again in the doorway, and turns around again. Her expression is hard and suspicious. She comes back in again. "I guess you heard," she says to you in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Heard what?" you say, acting as innocent as you can.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't bullshit me, Kelsey." Lin grips you by the arm. "I want to talk to you." Lisa watches with alarm and mystification as you're pulled away.<br/>
<br/>
Lin doesn't let go of you until you're outside in the quad next to the library. "Who are these 'sources' that were telling you Chelsea's plans?" she demands.<br/>
<br/>
"I can't tell you that."<br/>
<br/>
"You can and you'd better," she says with ill-disguised fury.<br/>
<br/>
You only smirk back. "Did something happen today? Did Chelsea make her move?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, she kicked Michelle off, just like you said she would."<br/>
<br/>
"So now you have to get <i>me</i> onto the squad."<br/>
<br/>
"We don't have to do <i>anything</i>, and we won't until you tell us who your source is."<br/>
<br/>
"Why are you so keen to know?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I can make a pretty good bet about who it is and what's going on," she snarls. "It's Kendra, isn't it? And once you're on the squad, you'll double-cross Cindy, and with Kendra's help you'll make <i>yourself</i> captain!"<br/>
<br/>
Wow! Are you that transparent? Lin has it almost figured out. Except that it's Cindy you're cooperating with, not Kendra. Oh, and she missed the part about how you're pulling all this off with a bunch of magic disguises.<br/>
<br/>
And this puts you in a pickle. If you don't give Lin a "source," it sounds like you'll have to improvise a new plan to get onto the squad. On the other hand, with Chelsea and Cindy as your allies, you could probably still swing things without telling Lin about a mythical "source."</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111221111111112212222212222
author_id: seuzz
title: Too Many Balls for Your Juggling Act?
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're pretty sure you can bluff Lin Pol. She's a tough cookie, but not as tough as Kelsey Blankenship.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to tell you my source, Lin," you say. "I was told in strictest confidence. If I told you that kind of secret, how would you ever trust me with any of yours?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't trust you with any of my secrets." She practically spits out the words.<br/>
<br/>
You smile sourly. "Well, you could. But anyway, all of this is basically Cindy's idea. She's the one who came to me first about getting me back on the squad. I just happened to hear about Chelsea's plans from someone else."<br/>
<br/>
"That's awfully convenient."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess. But are you going to take my advice, about going to Coach Tesla and telling her I need to take Michelle's slot?"<br/>
<br/>
Lin turns sullen. "I don't know."<br/>
<br/>
"Talk to Cindy. She wants me on the squad, and you need me on it. It's the only way to stop Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
Lin's face curdles, and with a dark and suspicious glance she leaves you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Fourth period is also a lunch period—though it's not yours—and you know it's Cindy Vredenburg's lunch period. So you text her with a request to meet you by the library. She shows up five minutes later. "Quite the drama," she says in a loud voice, for there are people having lunch out on the grass. "Have you heard?"<br/>
<br/>
"About the squad? Oh my God, yes, just now! What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
At the corner of the library you stand and talk, with Cindy gesturing excitedly while you listen intently with a frown and making little barking noises at the key bits. Your talk is dramatic even if the actual incident wasn't. Apparently Justin—as Chelsea—just took Michelle aside while everyone else practiced and put a little pressure on her to quit; she let Michelle leave early and made the announcement at the end of practice. If anyone is agog it's not over Michelle being dumped from the squad—hardly anyone paid attention to her, and she didn't have any friends—but from the fact that a slot has opened up.<br/>
<br/>
After Cindy has told you this—all in a place where you can be observed—you withdraw to a more private spot. There you tell her about your talk with Lin. "You need to tell her that it was your idea to bring me back onto the squad," you tell her, "and that you all need to go to Coach Tesla and tell her to get me back on."<br/>
<br/>
"I can do that. And I tell them that you've privately promised to support me?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. Of course, between you and me—" You wink. She winks back, though not very enthusiastically. "What about you and Seth?"<br/>
<br/>
She rolls her eyes. "I've been avoiding him."<br/>
<br/>
"I mean, what are you going to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tell him it's over between us." But she looks uncertain.<br/>
<br/>
You pull her close. "I think a break up would be good. It will make it look more convincing when you lose the election to be squad captain."<br/>
<br/>
She flinches. "Is that all you're thinking about?"<br/>
<br/>
"And won't you be happier without having to worry about his sausage?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't change the subject."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't <i>you</i> change the subject. The subject is Seth."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, okay. I'm definitely going to tell him it's over between us."<br/>
<br/>
Impulsively, you hug her. She feels wonderful, and she smells even better, in your arms. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Cindy. I thought you and Seth were so good together. But if he's going to be a dick—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright," she mutters in your ear. "That's enough, Will."<br/>
<br/>
"I just want to hold you," you mutter back.<br/>
<br/>
You feel her shiver. "Can I come over to your place after school?"<br/>
<br/>
"Stick around, and I'll give you a ride." You brush her affectionately and release her.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You could spend the rest of the day spreading the word about Cindy's impending breakup with Seth, or gossiping about the cheerleader squad. But though people keep coming up to you to talk about the latter, you just listen with deep and affected concern, and forecast impending chaos. "This isn't going to lead to anything good," you say. "Chelsea doesn't know what she's doing." That, of course, sets off lots more buzzing.<br/>
<br/>
You have Lin for seventh period—Statistics—but when you cock an eyebrow at her, she just turns a chilly shoulder on you.<br/>
<br/>
You haven't seen Steve Patterson around, which surprises you, but he rectifies the omission just before eighth period by inserting himself between you and Amanda at your lockers. "You're sticking around after school, right?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. I've got tennis practice."<br/>
<br/>
"And I've got basketball practice. Makes it convenient for getting together again."<br/>
<br/>
"It would, but I've got plans."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean 'because', right? It's convenient because you've got plans with me."<br/>
<br/>
"No, actually, my plans are with someone else." But you smile at his weak jest.<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't smile back. In fact, his eyes are very cool. "I've already set things up."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Really.</i> That must mean he's reserved the loft for his personal use. "Tell you what," you reply. "I'll talk to the person I've got plans with, and if she's okay with it then you can hang out with us. How's that sound?"<br/>
<br/>
He puts a strong hand on the side of you face, and you don't pull back. "Just tell her that if she doesn't go along with it, you'll be going with me."<br/>
<br/>
You grit your teeth. "I'll have to think about it, Steve."<br/>
<br/>
He caresses you, then steps back into the stream of students. "That must've been quite a coffee date you had yesterday," Amanda observes. "I notice you didn't tell me about it."<br/>
<br/>
"It was okay, and there was nothing to say about it." You slam your locker shut. "I guess he got more out of it than I did." You turn away with a smirk and a casual toss of the head—<br/>
<br/>
And you freeze. Karl is standing four feet away, staring at you hard.<br/>
<br/>
You blink, and find you can't look him in the eye. And though your class is down the hallway behind him, you go the other way so you don't have to pass him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Tennis practice ought to bring a respite from the gossip, but today it doesn't, and you are soon exhausted by it all and quite relieved when you can change and meet Cindy outside the gym.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen," you say when you meet. "Can we hang around here? I'm supposed to meet with—" You look around, and say the name in a low voice. "Steve Patterson. When practice lets out."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," she says, but looks puzzled. "Is it a club meeting or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, not unless we want to have one. Which maybe we do. But I just want to avoid being alone with him. Otherwise we'll, you know—"<br/>
<br/>
She gets very mirthful. "Oh Jesus, this is so hilarious. You are so getting into it."<br/>
<br/>
"Into what?" you ask, but you also redden, for you're pretty sure what she means.<br/>
<br/>
"You really are sucking off Connor."<br/>
<br/>
"I am not," you exclaim. "Not once!"<br/>
<br/>
"You mean you haven't—" She slides a finger in and out of a loosely closed fist.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not sucking him off. I'm having fun too!" What you mean is that you're getting your rocks off as well, but of course it sounds much worse than that, and Caleb howls in a most unladylike way. "Shut. Up." You grab her as she turns as crimson as a tomato with amusement.<br/>
<br/>
"So if it's fun for you, why don't you want to have some fun with him this afternoon?"<br/>
<br/>
You haven't got an answer for that, as you've so neatly contradicted yourself. "Look, will you just stick around? If you're there it can be club business."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright," she gasps, and wipes an eye. "Just don't try dragging me into your sex life."<br/>
<br/>
You seize the chance to turn the tables on her. "Oh? Don't you want a piece of my sex life?"<br/>
<br/>
But she twists it around nicely. "With you and Connor, it's a sex life. With you and me, it's just play time."<br/>
<br/>
You've been watching the main doors to the gym all this time as basketball players and spectators exit. When Seth appears, Cindy steps to the side so he won't see her. When it looks like the place has been emptied, you peek in, then gesture Cindy to follow. Quickly you cross the empty court and dash up the stairs. The door to the loft is open, and you go in.<br/>
<br/>
Steve is crouched by the dorm-size refrigerator. "Hey," he says as he looks over at you, then does a double-take. "Hello," he says in a horrible "sexy" voice as Cindy follows. "I like where this is going."<br/>
<br/>
"It's not going anywhere," you tell him. "This is a club meeting. Can we get Justin to join us?"<br/>
<br/>
"That would be awesome."<br/>
<br/>
"This is about business, Hutchison. Anything you and Justin do together is just between you."<br/>
<br/>
"Until he shows up," Steve asks, "is this just a threesome?"<br/>
<br/>
You look at Cindy. "You see what I have to put up with? I'm texting Chelsea now."<br/>
<br/>
Patterson passes around some beers while you wait for your fourth member to show up. Talk is laconic, since you don't want to start until everyone is present, so the conversation steers toward pop culture topics. After twenty minutes of this you're ready to get onto something serious, but Chelsea shows up before you can lose all patience.<br/>
<br/>
She is looking beautifully turned out in designer jeans and a cashmere top. "I'm glad we could talk," she says to the group. Then to you in particular: "You're holding up pretty well."<br/>
<br/>
"Why shouldn't I be?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, the whole Karl Hennepin thing."<br/>
<br/>
Your blood freezes. "What thing is that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Those pictures."<br/>
<br/>
"What pictures?" Then it comes to you. He must mean those photos you took of him and Kelsey at the Donna, back when you were going to reveal their romance to the world. "What about them?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea looks very puzzled. "The whole school's been talking about them since Monday."</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112211111111122122222122222
author_id: seuzz
title: Like Grabbing at Running Water
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The air in the loft freezes. All at once you have an ice cream headache. "What?" you say.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea gives a nervous glance to the guys standing behind you. "Those photos you took. You know, with Karl, at the Donna. They're online. People have been looking at them, talking about them." A quaver comes into her voice. "Talking about you."<br/>
<br/>
"Catch her, I think she's going to faint," says someone behind you, and a hand is laid on your back.<br/>
<br/>
You twist around and slap at Patterson. "Don't touch me!" Your breathing turns ragged. "Those photos? Of me and Karl?" You've lost your breath, and your eyes bulge. "Who the <i>fuck,</i>" you shriek, "decided to upload them?"<br/>
<br/>
You hate the way Chelsea gets a shifty look on her face, and you can tell just by looking at her that the others have the same look. Your fingers curl into claws as you wait for them to make the obvious reply.<br/>
<br/>
It's Steve who steps in. "Uh. You did, Will."<br/>
<br/>
You whirl so fast the hair flies all over your face. "<i>I know I did, you goddamned fuck!</i> I mean, who the fuck—! That was before—! God <i>damn</i> it, that was before we changed the plan!"<br/>
<br/>
But Patterson only looks amused. "You kind of changed the plan on the fly, dude. The photos went up on Sunday night. You didn't change the plan until Monday morning."<br/>
<br/>
"I wouldn't have—! I didn't mean to—! Why didn't you fucking tell me what you'd done?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, don't yell at me. You're the one with all the cunning plans. Anyway, I didn't upload them, it was that guy pretending to be Will Prescott who did it, and he was doing what he was supposed to be doing."<br/>
<br/>
You stalk off to a corner of the loft, where you grab hold of a crate and kick it savagely. The bitch of it is that he's right. Everyone was doing what they were supposed to be doing. You're the one who improvised yourself into this hole.<br/>
<br/>
For a moment you see an exit: Yes, it's a hole for Kelsey, but there's no reason that you have to be stuck down in it with her. Just take off her mask and let the real girl deal with the consequences. It's exactly the kind of trouble that she deserves to find herself in.<br/>
<br/>
But only for a moment are you tempted this way. The fantasy is enough to break the mask's hold on your emotions, and in a flash you recognize that there's no reason for you to feel upset. You're not Kelsey Blankenship, and even if it's you that everyone is whispering about behind your back—<br/>
<br/>
Your gorge rises. Okay, you still don't like it. But you don't have to lose your shit over it.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, I'm over it," you declare as you return to the others, and you ignore the wary glances they exchange. "So, are we all set for tomorrow?"<br/>
<br/>
There's an awkward pause before Chelsea replies: "You mean for the cheerleader thing?" She looks at Cindy.<br/>
<br/>
And Cindy shrivels a little as everyone turns to her. "Problem," she says. "We went to Coach Tesla like you said, and she told us she wasn't going to interfere."<br/>
<br/>
But there's no problem, and you tell her so. "Chelsea," you say turning sweetly on the head cheerleader. "Coach Tesla called you in and told you to ask me back on the squad. Didn't she?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, she didn't," says Chelsea slowly.<br/>
<br/>
You narrow your eyes. "Chelsea. Coach Tesla told you to ask me to come back onto the squad," you say with great deliberation and heaviness. "Didn't she?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea stares, then blinks and snaps her fingers. "Oh! Right! She totally did! So, I guess this is me officially asking you to come back onto the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God, I will!" you squeal, and grab Chelsea by the hands as you dance in place. She joins you with a lot less energy. "Okay, Cindy," you say after releasing Chelsea. "I'll show up at practice tomorrow, and you call a vote of no confidence in Chelsea." You turn a dimpled smile on your other conspirator. "Nothing personal, Chels."<br/>
<br/>
"Of course not," she replies with a trace of acid.<br/>
<br/>
"You'll lose by six to four, and then I'll propose a secret ballot vote for a new captain. You need to vote for me," you continue, laying a finger on the top of Chelsea's breast. "That way I'll have four votes, which will give me the plurality I need. After that—" You whip back around to the other cheerleader. "You move for a unanimous vote for me as squad captain."<br/>
<br/>
"What do I need to do between now and then," Cindy asks. She suddenly looks tired.<br/>
<br/>
"You need to talk to Lin and Yumi, tell them that I'm back on the squad, and that you're going to call that vote of no confidence, and that I'll then call for a secret ballot. Tell them I'll talk to Eva and Jessica, and get them to go along so that it'll be six to four against Chelsea and six to four for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Do I vote for myself?"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course. But leave it to me to get Eva and Jessica to go along. Oh my God!" You pull Cindy and Chelsea into a close embrace, rubbing their backs and closing your eyes in ecstasy as their faces and hair brush against yours. "It's going to be so amazing!"<br/>
<br/>
<i>For you it will be.</i> That's the plain thought on their faces when you release them. So you continue. "And after that, we'll find a nice new boyfriend for Cindy, and then we'll get Caleb moved in for him so Cindy can be his girlfriend." You playfully tweak her boob. "And for Justin— You still want to be Kendra Saunders?"<br/>
<br/>
"Can we do that?" he says, sounding confused.<br/>
<br/>
"Totally. That would fit in <i>so perfectly</i> with my plans. And it'll be a lot less weird if Kendra and I—" You lay firm hands on Chelsea and pull her back in to a tight embrace. "Are hanging out and doing this." You put your mouth to hers. After a moment's hesitation, she opens her mouth and kisses you back.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuckin' hawt," drawls Patterson. You feel Chelsea's arm fly out, and he adds an "Ow."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, are we all clear on tonight's plans?" you ask after breaking away from Chelsea. To her you add, "You better tell Kendra and them about your 'talk' with Coach Tesla."<br/>
<br/>
"You got anything for me?" Patterson asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll talk to you in private."<br/>
<br/>
"Weren't you giving me a ride home?" Cindy bluntly asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Change of plans. I gotta talk to Steve. Chelsea, can you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, Cindy," Chelsea says, taking the girl by the arm. "Suddenly, we're a third and fourth wheel."<br/>
<br/>
"But won't it look weird if we're seen together?" Cindy objects, stumbling on her feet as Chelsea drags her to the door.<br/>
<br/>
"So don't be seen together," you call after her. "I'll talk to you later, I promise! And this weekend we'll get together for—!" But Chelsea has pulled her out the door. You close it behind them and let out a sigh. "At least that's taken care of."<br/>
<br/>
"Is it?" Patterson's tone is dry.<br/>
<br/>
"Why wouldn't it be?"<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. "You're pushing people pretty hard, all so you can— Jesus. All this so you can be head cheerleader."<br/>
<br/>
You frown. "That's the plan we all agreed to."<br/>
<br/>
"That's the plan you pushed on everyone." He cocks his head. "Has this been a secret dream of yours, Prescott? To be captain of the cheerleader squad?"<br/>
<br/>
You redden, and redden more deeply at your own embarrassment. "This is for <i>Kelsey,</i> not for me!"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't think you cared for Kelsey."<br/>
<br/>
You'd like to take credit for the jujitsu move you make next, but even you recognize it's probably Kelsey's instincts taking over. "I'm also doing it for you, Connor." You grab him by the waist and pull up close to him. "This is what you wanted, isn't it?" You put a hand on the back of his head and pull him down for the lustiest kiss you can manage.<br/>
<br/>
His breath comes out of his nose in a panicked whistle, and you push away from him before he can really come to life. "You wanted Kelsey as a girlfriend, right?" You run your fingers through your hair. "Well, I'm giving her to you, and it's not because I particularly <i>want</i> to."<br/>
<br/>
He winces hard. "You're not making it fun."<br/>
<br/>
"Who says it has to be fun?" you say, and pull off your hoodie, exposing your bra. "As long as it's hot?" You kick off your shoes.<br/>
<br/>
Steve Patterson is your official boyfriend after you've both climaxed, but you'll wait until Saturday before releasing the news.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You bolt upright on your bed with a gasp. "What did she say?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
It's Eva on the other end of the connection, and she's been talking to Yumi. That's not good.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea and Cindy didn't waste any time spreading the news of Kelsey's return to the squad, and by the time you got home the messages were piling up, and you were really behind after the break for dinner. So you took care of the texts from Amanda and Brooke and Olivia and all the others, and you checked up on what was being said on the various social sites, and when you finally felt like you were on top of things you called Eva when you realized that you hadn't heard anything from her.<br/>
<br/>
And during that time, Yumi had called to make sure that Eva and Jessica would be voting to unseat Chelsea and bring in Cindy as squad captain.<br/>
<br/>
"She said that you'd be the sixth vote for Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm sure as hell not going to vote for Chelsea, not after she had to be blackmailed into inviting me back onto the squad," you snarl.<br/>
<br/>
"So we're all set?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
It's slipping away from you—tomorrow you'll just be another member of the cheerleading squad.<br/>
<br/>
Well, so what? You did your best for Kelsey. This weekend you slip back into your life—or into another—and watch the fireworks.<br/>
<br/>
Or you can fight for the dream.</span></div></div>


path: 1112223122122121211121112113211112212113112111122111111111221222221222221
author_id: seuzz
title: Some Desperate Dialing
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You didn't come this far—toppling Chelsea and getting Kelsey back onto the squad—just to give it up at the end.<br/>
<br/>
"So, we're set?" Eva says again, more cautiously.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess we are," you say. "I just wanted to make sure you understood what's going to happen tomorrow." You hang up after promising Eva that you'll get together with her and Jessica this weekend.<br/>
<br/>
Then you call Caleb. "Okay, <i>now</i> we have a problem," you tell him. "Yumi's already got Eva and Jessica voting for you for squad captain tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
"Awesome," he says dryly.<br/>
<br/>
"No it isn't! Whose side are you on?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm on yours," he says in a tired tone. "I just don't give a shit any more. Why do you? Why can't you let Cindy win? Or, if you want to be squad captain so much—"<br/>
<br/>
"This isn't about <i>me</i> being squad captain! Jesus! If I wanted to be squad captain I'd've just swapped masks with Justin, let him suck Connor's cock while I—" You catch yourself. "This is about getting Kelsey into the job. As soon as it's all set—"<br/>
<br/>
You look around the room. You love this room, this house, the sauna and steam room, the BMW down in the garage— Everything that Kelsey has is yours as long as you're wearing this mask. But you say it, even though it's a total lie. "As soon as it's all set I'll let her out and go somewhere else."<br/>
<br/>
There's a long silence. "Really?"<br/>
<br/>
Even you can't sustain the barefaced lie, for what if Caleb held you to it? "Well, maybe."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh."<br/>
<br/>
"It's not the cheerleading squad I'm thinking about! It's all this other stuff. You've seen it. My God!" You fall back onto the bed and caress a boob while rubbing your bare legs together. "Kelsey has it <i>so sweet!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you going to spend the rest of your life being Kelsey Blankenship?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! Good Lord! Just until she's, like thirty or thirty-five."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, Will!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm kidding! But maybe I'll stay this way till I get bored. Anyway, I want to be squad captain—that's part of the fun! So on that secret ballot, I can't get Eva and Jessica to vote for me, so you're going to have to. You and Chelsea secretly vote for me, and I'll vote for me."<br/>
<br/>
"That's only three votes, and it's going to look really weird if the numbers for Cindy don't add up."<br/>
<br/>
"I know where to find a fourth."<br/>
<br/>
"Where?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kendra. I already got a text from her, but I've been putting off replying to her until—"<br/>
<br/>
"It'll still look weird if Cindy doesn't get five votes. From Cindy, Yumi, Lin, Eva and Jessica."<br/>
<br/>
"It's a secret ballot. People will think that Eva and Jessica double-crossed Cindy, and that Kendra double-crossed Chelsea. Which she will."<br/>
<br/>
"Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Never mind why. Who are you going to vote for on the secret ballot tomorrow?"<br/>
<br/>
"You," she sighs.<br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"You!"<br/>
<br/>
"Awesome. We'll get together tomorrow night to celebrate my victory."<br/>
<br/>
"Won't it be weird if you and I—"<br/>
<br/>
"It's to show that Cindy and Kelsey are still friends despite what happened. In fact, I'll tell everyone that I voted for you. That way it'll look like I got swept into the job by lots of secret admirers."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Christ."<br/>
<br/>
You titter. "I know. I'm turning myself on just thinking about it. Anyway, love you and I'll talk to you later, I've got to call Kendra. Bye!" You hang up.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra's text—a very tentative <i>hey girl, talk?</i>—has been sitting unanswered for about two hours. You hope you haven't delayed too long in answering. You wouldn't answer at all if you didn't need her vote.<br/>
<br/>
Kendra Saunders is a snake. She has long been one of Chelsea's sneaks and spies, but at the end of summer she and Kelsey struck an alliance—Kendra would back Kelsey in the battle to become captain of the cheerleading squad, and in return Kelsey would make Kendra the vice-captain and put her in charge of training the new girls who would be added to the troop. But Chelsea managed to outmaneuver her rivals, and Kendra went crawling back into service to her mistress.<br/>
<br/>
But now you're pretty sure Kendra is sniffing around for another chance. It's pretty clear that a new wind  has begun to blow. You reply to her text with an invitation: <i>call when you want.</i><br/>
<br/>
It's nearly twenty minutes before your phone rings, time you put to you use with another round of social media surveillance. Lots of people are speculating as to how you managed to get back onto the squad, but you don't enlighten anyone.<br/>
<br/>
"Hi Kelsey," Kendra says shyly when you pick up. "I heard the news."<br/>
<br/>
"I bet you did. Did Chelsea just about explode?"<br/>
<br/>
"She was actually pretty quiet about it," Kendra says. "Real quiet. I mean, she was pissed, but—" Her tone turns eager. "What did she say when she talked to you?"<br/>
<br/>
"She was just very, you know. Grim, I think that's the word. She was, like, 'Kelsey, we've got a vacancy on the squad, would you like to come back on?' And I was like, 'Wow, if you really want me to,' and she said, 'I need you on the squad.' What did she tell you?" You wonder at what Kendra said about Chelsea being "pretty quiet" about it. Sounds like Justin wasn't into the role-playing as much as he could have been.<br/>
<br/>
"She didn't explain to you why she asked you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I heard rumors, but she didn't say anything. It was Coach Tesla, wasn't it? She made Chelsea ask me back."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. The other girls—Cindy and them, they went to the coach and said they'd quit if Chelsea didn't invite you back to replace Michelle. Which is funny, because I heard that the coach said she wouldn't do it."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess she changed her mind, 'cos here I am."<br/>
<br/>
"Here you are," Kendra agrees. "Um—"<br/>
<br/>
You can hear the doubt—no, the sheer terror—in Kendra's voice as she tiptoes up to the topic. If she puts a foot wrong—<br/>
<br/>
"You know, it was half the squad that went to Coach Tesla. Cindy, Eva, Jessica, Yumi, and Lin. With you, that's—" She takes a deep breath. "That's six people who, uh, don't really like Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"It's hard to be squad captain when six of ten people are against you."<br/>
<br/>
Her reply is almost inaudible. "I know." She clears her throat. "You know, if there was a vote for squad captain, after what happened this week—"<br/>
<br/>
"There will be."<br/>
<br/>
Another pause. "You think so?"<br/>
<br/>
"I know so, Kendra. You can even call Chelsea and tell her there will be a vote. Six people want her out, and there's not a freaking thing she can do to stop it."<br/>
<br/>
"I see," says Kendra faintly.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you going to vote with Chelsea? Or are you going to vote for the new captain?"<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't matter," says Kendra, sounding miserable. "Cindy doesn't like me."<br/>
<br/>
"Who says it's going to be Cindy?"<br/>
<br/>
The pauses are growing more frequent, and longer. "Who else would it be?"<br/>
<br/>
"In a three-way contest, I can get four votes. That's enough for me to win, because Cindy and Chelsea would support me before they'd support each other."<br/>
<br/>
"You can get four votes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Easily. If you're the fourth, Kendra. That's a really important vote, the fourth one. It means no one else gets more than three."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess it does," she says softly.<br/>
<br/>
"You'd be throwing it away on Chelsea. Cindy hates your guts. But if I'm squad captain, you'd be vice captain."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean we go back to—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly."<br/>
<br/>
She catches her breath. "Are you sure you've got the votes? Because I thought you were—"<br/>
<br/>
"I wouldn't tell you if I didn't. If I didn't have two more votes, I'd be voting for Cindy, because I don't want there to be only one vote for me. So I've already got two who are for me, and then there's me, and with you—"<br/>
<br/>
"It's Eva and Jessica, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"This is all very hush hush, Kendra," you say, and your voice is hard. "I don't want you even talking to them. They'll deny it if you do, because they've been helping Cindy. In fact, if you breathe even one word to them—"<br/>
<br/>
"I won't!"<br/>
<br/>
"I will kill you if you do, Kendra. Not one word to anyone, you have to hold it in until tomorrow after the vote. You can do that, can't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can!"<br/>
<br/>
"You better. Because if you breathe one word to them, they'll call me, and then we'll all be voting for Cindy, and <i>everyone</i> on the squad will hate your guts. Me, Cindy, Chelsea, the Garners, Yumi—"<br/>
<br/>
"I will, I promise!"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright then. But vote for me tomorrow. If I don't get four votes, then I have to vote for Cindy on the second ballot, and then you are screwed. Screw me, and you screw yourself."<br/>
<br/>
Kendra makes many fervent promises, and you regally accept them. You feel very good when you hang up. When the weekend comes, you'll be captain of the cheerleading squad. Kendra Saunders will be vice captain.<br/>
<br/>
And, in all probability, Justin Carr will be Kendra Saunders.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You agonize the rest of the night about what you'll wear to school tomorrow. Not until morning comes do you finally settle on some nicely distressed jeans and a vintage sleeveless black t-shirt, layered under a white, long-sleeved top. You put your hair up in a ponytail, keep the jewelry to a minimum, and top it off with high-heeled boots. It's a look, you think, that says, <i>I'm spitting on my hands and getting down to business.</i> Then with your purse, keys and phone you head down to the garage and the BMW that will take you out to the high school and your rightly deserved place at the head of the cheerleading squad.</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212111211121132111122121131121111221111111112212222212222211
author_id: seuzz
title: Ballot Time
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The sun is bright and the air is cool, and you don't know when you've ever felt so totally <i>alive</i> as you get out of your car and turn with a smile toward the gym. You're going back to where you belong, to where you deserve to be: at the top of the cheerleader pyramid.<br/>
<br/>
Okay, that's what Kelsey is thinking and feeling, but it makes her feel really good to think this, so it makes you feel really good to think it, and so you let yourself sink deeply into that giant pudding cup of good feeling and let it warm you all over. Your nipples are hard by the time you've laid your hand on the gym door.<br/>
<br/>
It's not yet eight-fifteen, and the boys are still practicing in one of the two basketball courts in the gym. You wander in and lean against the bleachers and admire their forms—especially that of Steve Patterson, your boyfriend. That gives you another tang of good feeling. Tomorrow you'll make the news public, and then everyone will be looking at you, not at Chelsea Cooper, as the top girl in the school.<br/>
<br/>
Steve catches you looking at him, and pauses long enough to chuck his chin at you. You return his acknowledgement with a smile. Over the hoarse shouts of the other players, you hear Steve calling to Gordon, suggesting it's time to end for the morning. Gordon grunts an agreement, and Steve shouts that everyone can break for the changing rooms.<br/>
<br/>
You've got your own wardrobe changes to make. Just off the girl's changing room there's a storeroom filled with cheerleading uniforms of all sizes, and you duck into it to find one for yourself. It's not long before you get one, and you take it into the locker room. You find your old locker—okay, Kelsey's old locker, from her junior year—and start exchanging street clothes for the uniform.<br/>
<br/>
You're just making the final adjustments when voices sound, and Lin and Yumi come in. You can't make out their words, and they stop dead when they see you. You smile broadly and greet them. Guardedly, they return your hellos, and silently change at their lockers.<br/>
<br/>
It's like that with everyone. Chelsea comes in with Maria Vasquez, Gloria Rea, and Kendra Saunders, and they all turn a chilly shoulder toward you. Even Eva and Jessica are subdued and very tentative when they come over to congratulate you on being back on the squad. Cindy is the last to come in. She looks around with a mystified expression when she sees everyone ignoring you, but comes over to give you a friendly squeeze and a friendlier word.<br/>
<br/>
The frigid atmosphere unsettles you, and you flee for the court, to warm up with some stretches. It was a much colder greeting than you were expecting, and it makes you nervous. You have to remind yourself that you've got three secret allies on the squad—Cindy, Chelsea and Kendra—and that with your vote you are guaranteed to hit the magic number of four.<br/>
<br/>
But after the scene in the locker room, it's going to look mighty peculiar to Lin and Yumi and Jessica and Eva when you make it.<br/>
<br/>
One by one the other girls join you on the floor. No one speaks to you, or to the others.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea is the last to appear. With hands on her hips she looks at the semicircle of girls. "Alright," she says quietly. "I guess the first thing to do is—"<br/>
<br/>
"I move a vote of no confidence in the squad captain," Cindy says. Her voice shakes a little as she says it.<br/>
<br/>
No on says anything. Chelsea just stares back at her.<br/>
<br/>
"It's been awhile since Kelsey has practiced with us," Chelsea then resumes, as though Cindy hadn't interrupted. "I'll do a little work with her to—"<br/>
<br/>
"I said, I move for a vote of no confidence in the squad captain," Cindy says, more firmly.<br/>
<br/>
"This isn't the time for your bullshit, Cindy," Chelsea says.<br/>
<br/>
You glance around. <i>Is Justin making some kind of play to thwart you? Or is this part of some kind of act?</i><br/>
<br/>
"I second the motion," Yumi blurts out. She nudges Lin, who nods and says "Me too."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea turns red. "You can't just—"<br/>
<br/>
"All in favor of declaring the captaincy vacant, raise your hands," says Cindy. Her hand goes up. Yumi and Lin also raise theirs. You look over at Eva and Jessica, and under your glare they raise their hands more tentatively. With a feigned shrug, you raise yours.<br/>
<br/>
"This isn't an official vote," Chelsea snarls.<br/>
<br/>
"It's as official as it needs to be," you jump in, and you hear several people catch their breaths. "It's pretty clear no one wants you to continue as squad captain, Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
Now she's as red as a tomato. Either Justin is really pissed off, or he's doing a bang-up job acting the way Chelsea would act. "Fine," she says. "If someone else thinks they can—"<br/>
<br/>
"I move for an immediate secret ballot vote for a new captain," you say.<br/>
<br/>
Then Yumi throws a snarl into things. "Why secret ballot?"<br/>
<br/>
For half a second you're at a loss, but Kelsey is too skilled at parliamentarian arguments to let you down. "So we can vote our consciences without any peer pressure. Who has some paper and some pens?"<br/>
<br/>
"It would be easier if we just—"<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey's right," says Cindy. "It should be a secret ballot." Lin and Yumi give her a look of incredulity. Eva stammers that she's got some paper in her locker, and retreats for the changing rooms at a quick trot.<br/>
<br/>
That leaves the rest of you to stand around looking awkwardly at each other. With a nervous laugh, Jessica says, "Anyone want to make a speech?" but that only gets snorts and glares.<br/>
<br/>
After an agonizing wait, Eva returns with a notebook but not enough pencils, and writing implements get passed around from one fumbling hand to another as ten girls take turns writing on scraps of paper. They're folded up, and after a little confusion Chelsea snatches them up herself. "I'll do the counting," she crisply declares. "I'm still squad captain until—"<br/>
<br/>
"You and Cindy both do the counting," you say. "The rest of us will line up over here." You point to a spot in front of the bleachers, and after some hesitation the other girls shuffle over to join you there. With folded arms and face turned high, you serenely turn your attention to Chelsea and Cindy.<br/>
<br/>
Shoulder to shoulder they stand, each holding a fistful of ballots, taking turns opening them up and reading the names. "Cindy," says Chelsea, and drops the first ballot to the floor.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea," says Cindy, and drops the ballot to another pile.<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey," says Chelsea, and looks up to give you a hard look as she drops the ballot into another pile. You can feel the ripple of surprise through the girls at your shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy," says Cindy.<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey," says Chelsea, and with tightened lips drops the second vote onto your pile. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Yumi turn a hard face on the Garner girls.<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy," says Cindy. She has turned a little white.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea," says Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
Now you're getting nervous. You were expecting to open up an early and insurmountable lead.<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey."<br/>
<br/>
"Cindy." That gives Cindy four votes. If the last vote is for her or for Chelsea—<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey."<br/>
<br/>
You let out a ragged sigh. There are murmurs from the cheerleaders around you. Chelsea and Cindy bend down to retrieve the ballots and count through them quickly and silently a second time. When they look up, Chelsea says in a tight but neutral voice, "It's four for Cindy, four for Kelsey, and two for me."<br/>
<br/>
"So we have to have a second round," says Yumi angrily.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think we have to do that," says Chelsea. "I change my vote to Kelsey. How about you, Kendra?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" Kendra jumps with a start. "Oh. Uh, I do too," she says uncertainly, and a blush appears under her milk-chocolate complexion.<br/>
<br/>
"That makes it six to four for Kelsey," says Chelsea, and to your astonishment she gives Cindy a quick hug. "I'm so sorry, Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
This wasn't quite the way you were planning it to go, but you grab the train as it races past. "In that case, I accept. Um." You step into the gap separating Chelsea and Cindy from the other girls. Yumi and Lin are gaping at you with open fury. Eva and Jessica also stare at you with open mouths. Kendra looks guilty and confused, and Gloria looks baffled and hurt. Only Maria seems unfazed, staring at nothing in particular.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, so there's been a lot of drama this morning," you say. "Let's burn some of it off. I want to talk to Chelsea and Cindy. Everyone else— You know, it's a beautiful day outside. Take a jog around the track."<br/>
<br/>
"Does it have to be a <i>jog?</i>" asks Yumi with a hard sneer.<br/>
<br/>
"A walk. I don't care. Just go out and enjoy the weather."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi mutters under her breath, but turns with the others as they move off toward the doors. You watch until the last one—Lin, who pauses long enough look backward at you—is gone and the door has closed again.<br/>
<br/>
"Whoa." You let out a deep sigh. "That was a lot more dramatic than I wanted it to be."<br/>
<br/>
"Wasn't it fun?" Cindy says dryly.<br/>
<br/>
"It could have been more fun," you admit, and surprise yourself with how weak your knees are when you take a step toward your co-conspirators. To Justin you say, "Quick thinking there at the end. Thanks."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't mention it. Where did you get the votes?"<br/>
<br/>
"Us three, plus Kendra."<br/>
<br/>
"You're kidding," says Cindy. "Then she couldn't have changed her vote when Chelsea—"<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't matter," says Chelsea. "You made a deal with Kendra, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Right. She's going to be my vice-captain. Which I guess means you'll be my vice-captain, if we're going to move you into—"<br/>
<br/>
You break off at the glance that Chelsea and Cindy exchange.<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, we were talking last night," says Chelsea. She puts her arm in Cindy's. "I'm going to switch to Lucy. Cindy's sister? And then we're going to plot to take Kelsey down."</span></div></div>


path: 111222312212212121112111211321111221211311211112211111111122122222122222112
author_id: hugo233
title: You fought to get this -- keep it!
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>That hits you right in the chest like a sack of bricks. He fought for all of this, through tedious planning and manipulation to get on the very top, and these bitches want to tear it down. "Excuse me but I think I need to use the little girls room." As you hurry to the bathrooms ignoring your friends questions as you leave, you can feel your face welling up. As you get into the restroom you quickly check under the stalls to confirm it is indeed empty. Quickly rushing into the stalls you scream a feel curse words and get on your knees, pull back your hair and puke into the toilet coughing up your morning coffee along the way. "Those fucking BASTARDS!" you think. "I worked this entire time helped them get to where they are and they backstab me!" Kelsey often gets so worked up she tends to throw up and you're no different. "No way in hell would I give this up. Fuck ever going back to being a guy, let alone Will Fucking Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
15 minutes after you're done and checking up your makeup you stare into the mirror. "Hmmm turning them into golem slaves or something more cunning." You think with a manicured nail on your chin. Suddenly it comes to you...</span></div></div>


path: 11122231221221212112
author_id: seuzz
title: Faces From Someone Else's Past
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>A customer comes up to the counter at that point, and since the story isn't holding your interest—it sounds like it's going to turn into the usual kind of oogedy-boogedy urban legend—you wave Nancy off and take care of him yourself.<br/>
<br/>
He blinks and grins at you. It takes you a moment to place him.<br/>
<br/>
Then your eyes almost pop from your head. "Stephen?"<br/>
<br/>
He laughs. "Didn't recognize me, did you?"<br/>
<br/>
Connor would have a hard time stifling a bad word; it's easier for you, because it's all playacting for you. You don't know this guy and really don't care. But you let Connor's personality run out to the end of the leash. "Where have you been hiding?"<br/>
<br/>
"In plain sight, it sounds like."<br/>
<br/>
"But your hair. When did you do it?"<br/>
<br/>
You're asking about a head of hair that is trimmed and gelled into spikes about the length of your pinky finger and frosted a bright platinum color. It's a real change for Stephen Hoff, who when last seen had brown hair down almost to his elbows. He's filled out, too, and where he was once almost as skinny as you he's now showing some bulges under his t-shirt and definition in his arms. In fact—<br/>
<br/>
"You look like you're in a fraternity," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe 'cos I am," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"No. Not you, not in a fraternity," you insist, but he just grins. After filling his order, you get the story. <br/>
<br/>
Not that there's much to it. Stephen Hoff—who ran around with Connor and Justin a lot even though he was a student at Eastman—got some kind of academic religion at the start of the summer and decided he would have to stop being the guy who liked to park out by the river with a beer, weed, and some ear buds, and instead become the kind of guy who had a business degree and a career in front of him. To which end he chopped off his hair, took a summer job with his uncle in Kansas City, and has been building a sense of discipline by working out. And the fraternity? "Haven't made it into one yet," he admits, "but I'm rooming with some guys who are in Tau Kappa Epsilon, so I'm picking up the look."<br/>
<br/>
"The Tekes are partiers, aren't they?" you ask, remembering some of the stories that Manuel has told Connor.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing wrong with partying," he says. "I just keep it under control. What?" he adds. "You're looking at me like—"<br/>
<br/>
"I feel like I'm talking to a pod person," you say before realize it. But since the metaphor is out, you continue it. "Are you sure you didn't fall asleep on a frat couch and get replaced by some kind of plant-guy?"<br/>
<br/>
He laughs, but you can tell he's a little insulted. "What about you? What are you doing?" So you explain Connor's plans for getting business experience and maybe opening up something in partnership with Carr. "Doesn't sound like you're doing anything so different from me," he says. "And when you decide what you want to do, call me."<br/>
<br/>
"Why? You want in as a third partner?"<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. "Why not?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess you'd have the education, if you're taking business classes," you admit.<br/>
<br/>
"You guys should enroll in the spring. Part time, if nothing else."<br/>
<br/>
You talk a little more, about his social life and the parties and the girl he's trying to date, and you feel Connor's envy—and some of your own—starting to mount. Before he leaves, you've got his address and phone number, and have promised to get in touch with him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That's the last socializing you're able to do; no one else that you—or Connor—know comes in, and the evening crowd starts to show up soon after Stephen leaves. You work until an hour before closing, but as is Connor's usual habit you stay past the time that you clock out and help shut the place down: it's more experience and it builds a kind of credit with the other employees. By midnight you're back at the little house just off the university.<br/>
<br/>
Justin is still awake, playing a game on his iPhone. He looks up at you from under his brows as you come in. "So how was your day?"<br/>
<br/>
"Slow. Had a couple of rushes that knocked me and the Nanster on our asses, but mostly—" You collapse onto the sofa. "Or do you want to know—?" You glance around. "How <i>Prescott</i> handled it," you mouth at him.<br/>
<br/>
"Manuel's not here," he says, reading your thought. "He's on a taco run."<br/>
<br/>
"The Bell or his aunt's?"<br/>
<br/>
"The Bell. Pfft. He's drunk, naturally he—"<br/>
<br/>
"He didn't drive, did he?"<br/>
<br/>
Justin studies you for a moment, then shakes his head as though clearing it. "You're sure being in character. You didn't switch back with, uh, the other guy after work, did you? I mean, you're late getting back."<br/>
<br/>
"I helped close up again, and no, I didn't switch back. Am I creeping you out?"<br/>
<br/>
"No."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you sure?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sure."<br/>
<br/>
"How about now?" You unzip your jeans and dig out the flaccid penis. "How about now, am I creeping you—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, now that's creepy," he says, and springs to his feet and heads into the kitchen area. "You playing with Connor's dick, that's definitely creepy." But when he comes back around the bar, his fly is also unzipped, and his own cock is hanging out. "This isn't creepy, though, 'cos it's <i>mine.</i>" He chugs down half the beer he brought back, and hands the bottle to you.<br/>
<br/>
"You hear anything from the other two guys? I was half-expecting, uh— What do I call him? Connor or Will?"<br/>
<br/>
"Does it matter?"<br/>
<br/>
The door opens, and Manuel comes in. He's listing as he enters, and he hoists three Taco Bell bags in the air with a grin. "Who's hungry?"<br/>
<br/>
"How can you eat that shit?" Justin asks. You and he quickly tuck your flapping dicks back into your pants. "Your aunt—"<br/>
<br/>
"She's not open at midnight," Manuel slurs, and bends over Justin. "Come on, gimme a kiss and—" He laughs sloppily as Justin pushes him away, and drops one of the bags into his lap. "An' that's for you," he says as he drops a second bag onto you. It crunches as you catch it, you're pretty sure, means you smashed the tacos. Manuel sways on his feet and falls sideways into the chair that's the only other piece of furniture in the place.<br/>
<br/>
He's a big guy—muscular but also stocky—and he's dark of hair and skin both. His beard—he hasn't shaved in about a week, it looks like—covers his cheeks and jaw and neck. He's a good-looking guy, but tonight he glistens in a slightly repellent way; he's sweating, and you have the impression that he hasn't bathed in a few days. His t-shirt and track pants also seem to be soiled. "Yeah?" he says when he finally notices you eyeing him critically.<br/>
<br/>
"What happened to that girl you slept with Saturday night?"<br/>
<br/>
"I slept with her," he says from under half-closed eyes. He shoves a meaty mitt into the bag of food he kept for himself.<br/>
<br/>
"You gonna see her again?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. Prob'ly not."<br/>
<br/>
"You need to talk to that lawyer," Justin says.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll talk to the lawyer when— Fuck." Laboriously he unwraps a soft taco. "What do you two old ladies care?"<br/>
<br/>
"Get Amy off your neck, man," Justin says. "Get her off your neck and then you can—"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, fuck," Manuel says. He doesn't say it in mean or angry way, but he does hurl the taco at Justin, and it spatters against the side of his head and against you. "I'm doing okay, and it doesn't matter if I— And you're pissing me off."<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry about that," Justin says quietly, and starts to clean himself off. "Thanks for that taco."<br/>
<br/>
Manuel just snorts, and he pulls out and devours another one while you and your roommate clean up the mess and spread the contents of your own bags onto paper plates.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, you'll never guess who came into Starbucks today," you tell Justin after you're settled. Manuel ignores the two of you; he has little concentration he spare as he tries to eat his own food in a drunken stupor that is rapidly inclining toward sleep. "Stephen Hoff."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah? Where's he been—?" He blinks at you, and his lip curls. "You don't know Stephen Hoff."<br/>
<br/>
"Tonight I do," you say quietly. "You wouldn't recognize him, though. No one would." You describe his physical and mental changes, and pass along his address and phone number.<br/>
<br/>
"I go jogging past that house every day," Justin says as he puts the info into his phone. "I bet I've seen him."<br/>
<br/>
"But not recognized him. We should hang out some time over there. All three of us." You look past Justin at Manuel, whose head is rolling and nodding as he fights off alcoholic exhaustion. Justin watches with you. There's something fascinating about watching his head go up and down. A couple of times, as his chin settles on his chest, you think he's given up, but each time he pops back, only to drop down again.<br/>
<br/>
But there comes at last a nod with no recoil. When you're sure he's asleep you nudge Justin and—<br/>
<br/>
And you say nothing. He looks at you quizzically. But you've changed your mind about saying something at the last minute.<br/>
<br/>
Or have you? You want to ask him where the other two masks are, and if they've been finished off with metal bands.<br/>
<br/>
Because if they are, you could use one right now to make a copy of Manuel. It's probably only mischief that tempts you, but if Justin asked why you wanted to do that, you could suggest using the mask to get Manuel's divorce proceedings underway. It would be a favor to him, as he definitely needs to get on with the rest of his life.</span></div></div>


