# chapters

path: 1131221121113211
author_id: rugal
title: Unstable Stability
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The next forty-five minutes or so are spent playing a few games of first to ten in different combinations: you're with Monica first, then Penny and finally Ashley. Amber, being a swimmer, sits the games out.<br/>
<br/>
Though of the four of you Penny isn't on the basketball team either though unlike Amber she had been until this year when she'd dropped basketball to focus exclusively on soccer. Not because she was overwhelmed, rather it came down the simple fact that she was better at one than the other. Soccer had always been her stronger sport and a key departure from the team meant more opportunities for players to show their stuff so Penny realized that she couldn't have anything splitting her focus.<br/>
<br/>
That's to say nothing of the fact that departure was Hannah Westrick who...<br/>
<br/>
And again you demure from thinking about it. Samantha doesn't <i>like</i> thinking about it. All of the drama and back and forth sniping and stupid bullshit. All of it's doing is distracting everyone and the voice, Samantha's own, can't help but lament the state of affairs. Samantha doesn't hate Westside and she's not unhappy there. There's plenty of people she's on friendly terms with, she has a healthy amount of friends and is socially active.<br/>
<br/>
But when she looks at her own friends, much as she might tell someone like Monica that there's not really any difference between an Eastman student and a Westside student at times she can't help but wonder if maybe there <i>is</i>. Samantha Carpenter is by no means a Kumbaya-singing love and peace type (leave that to someone like Ceres Kesey) but she doesn't like drama. If two people have an issue then they should settle it themselves, not allow the problem to turn into a black hole that sucks in everyone around it.<br/>
<br/>
That's not to say that she's cold-hearted and would never help someone having a problem, far from it; but where drama's involved the problems of other people are not, and should not be, her problems too.<br/>
<br/>
She never hears about drama from Eastman. Well, no, some times there is but it's usually quick, over and done with at least from what she hears and never spirals out of control the way it does at Westside. Is Alyssa Randall that good at keeping everything in line? Or is it just something... inherent? It's a stupid thought to entertain she thinks but at times she can't help but feel like maybe she's an Eastman girl stuck in a Westside world.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe it's just stability that she likes.<br/>
<br/>
She's lived in her home -- a comfortable middle class house in a comfortable middle class cul-de-sac near McKinley Elementary -- her entire life. She's known these four girls since elementary school. When she made the decision to step away from the track team it took her a long time to adjust to a routine that didn't include it.<br/>
<br/>
Even when the Strickers moved into the neighborhood from out of state in the middle of fifth grade it took quite a while for Samantha to get used to their presence. Ashley had once admitted that for the first month or two they thought Samantha didn't like them.<br/>
<br/>
So maybe it's not that she's an Eastman girl in a Westside world, rather the comfortable stability that Eastman seems to provide seems more appealing. By contrast, the only thing stable about Westside is its instability.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you okay? You seem like you've got a lot on your mind."<br/>
<br/>
The Strickers, having homework to do, have since headed home so it's just yourself, Monica and Amber sitting in Monica's backyard and enjoying the crisp air of the autumn evening; funny enough for as much as she pines for the comfort of stability it's the ever changing fall that's Samantha's favorite time of year.<br/>
<br/>
To Amber's concern you simply wave it off. "It's nothing. The usual I guess," you say and realize that was a mistake. The "usual" that Samantha tends to refer to means that Amber and Monica are going to prod you endlessly for the latest updates and gossip. But maybe it's knowing that you had to deal with Chelsea that tempers them because for once they don't press the issue. Such, Samantha supposes, is the reputation of of Westside's head cheerleader.<br/>
<br/>
Just what <i>do</i> they think of her at Eastman? Things can get warped, meaning and rumors twisted, in the game of telephone and when you're struck by the thought that they might all think of Chelsea as this snake-haired she-devil that breathes fire and can kill you with a look you can't help but laugh to yourself.<br/>
<br/>
"It's nothing," you say dismissing their confused questions. "Chelsea wasn't that bad you know. We didn't even talk about anything juicy, she just wanted to tell me that she was thinking about throwing the cheerleaders' support behind both basketball teams this year and not just her boyfriend's."<br/>
<br/>
"Well you're gonna need all the support you can get," Monica declares proudly. "Connie's really doing a good job of whipping everyone into shape."<br/>
<br/>
"She's not running you ragged is she?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Monica just shakes her head in response. "No, it's just that she's good at recognizing what everyone can do and knowing how to use them," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"In other words, the same strategy as always," you tease, "get the ball to Hannah." You laugh when Monica lightly punches you in the arm.<br/>
<br/>
While enjoying all of this you take a moment to assess Samantha's two friends.<br/>
<br/>
Monica, her dark brown hair now hanging loose, is pretty but in a way that's very unspectacular. She's not going turn heads but neither would she be regarded as plain. Her nose has a very Greek quality to it and the rest of her face, relaxed now, rarely ever betrays what she may actually be thinking or feeling. Not to say that she herself as a stoic personality, far from it, but visually her face has the same kind of somber, stoic quality that one might see on one of those old Roman or Greek statues.<br/>
<br/>
But if Monica is stoically pretty, then Amber is vibrantly beautiful. Her hair, straight and honey-colored, falls down below her shoulders and surrounds a face that's full and bright. If Monica never loses her poker face then Amber is the exact opposite, her emotions being very easy to read. It's not just her face that's full, however, as Amber's figure is wide-hipped and large chested and at times Samantha can't help but feel very lacking in comparison.<br/>
<br/>
It's in this way that you pass the next hour -- Samantha content to share the evening with her two oldest friends and you content to share the evening with two nice-looking girls -- until at last goodbyes are said and everyone parts for the day.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Getting through next morning comes easily. You're actually surprised because you thought it might take a while to sift through everything to pull off the impersonation but really almost immediately you had it. Samantha's friends suspected nothing, her parents suspected nothing. In first period you chat and laugh with Catherine Muskov without raising alarm bells. Less so with her basketball teammates Corale Weaver and Haley Flanagan.<br/>
<br/>
Not out of any dislike for them, rather Corale's just not the talkative type and Haley is so tightly wound that she can be exhausting to deal with.<br/>
<br/>
Catherine though...<br/>
<br/>
For all of Samantha's love of stability and resistance to the breaking of routine she warmed up very quickly to Catherine. Perhaps it's just Catherine's nature, an athlete whose easygoing nature makes it easy for her to glide from one group to the next; someone who can talk with a nerd as easily as she could a jock. There's something very admirable about having such a magnetic and malleable personality, Samantha thinks, and at times she worries if what she sees as her own measured personality might in fact be a shortcoming making her far too rigid.<br/>
<br/>
But you put any thoughts of that aside as you tell Catherine that you're not joining her for lunch today, a statement that causes her to ask if you're hanging out with the basketball players but you give a noncommittal response. From there you go through the rest of the morning's classes as you steel yourself for what's to come.<br/>
<br/>
No, not the meeting with Chelsea. You're ready for that because you know how it'll go. Chelsea will have slapped a mask onto a member of the cheerleading squad, probably Lin or one of the Garners if she doesn't think she can get Yumi or Cindy. From there she'll crow about what a boon this is for her, then she'll ask you to tell her about the basketball team and from there she'll probably start working out a plan to consolidate her hold on the school.<br/>
<br/>
So it's to no surprise when you receive a text from Chelsea (she must've gotten Samantha's number before you came over yesterday) in second period telling you that she used the mask on a cheerleader this morning; guess she was just that impatient. It's little bit more of a surprise when, in fourth, she texts you saying to get over to the gym as fast as you can once Samantha's lunch comes and that door to the loft will be unlocked.<br/>
<br/>
It's a bigger surprise when you head up the stairs and into the loft to see no Chelsea or Gordon around but... Kendra Saunders? Not Yumi or Eva but one of Chelsea's own allies? And it's to your great shock when she finally opens her mouth.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Will!" Kendra cries out in a voice that's as smooth as her caramel skin. "You have to help me!"</span></div></div>


path: 11312211211132111
author_id: rugal
title: The Queen of Discord
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Kendra?" you ask as you quickly shut the door behind you.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes! Wait, no! It's... argh! You have to help me, I just... just..."<br/>
<br/>
Her response is scattered, her voice is wavering and her lips -- those large, cushiony lips -- are quivering. It's quite a sight really, Kendra acting in a way that is very much the opposite of what you would ever expect to see. Yet here she is, a confused mess and begging you for help. No, she's not acting like herself at all. She's acting a lot more like...<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea?" you ask with hesitance.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes!" Kendra exclaims with relief. "It's me, Will! You have to..." she trails off and she looks sheepish. "I'm stuck," she admits.<br/>
<br/>
It is indeed an odd thing seeing Kendra act like this. Neither you nor Samantha are experts on Chelsea's hanger on but based on what you do know and seeing her like this now really puts the two into contrast.<br/>
<br/>
That is to say that for all of her grandiose scheming and lofty pretensions of power, there's something almost immature about Chelsea. The way she giggles and talks, the way she moves and practically bounces when excited. It's an odd thing to think and it could even just be a disarming act but there's something of a childish innocence to her even when she's plotting or trying to boss you around, like she's a little girl playing at being the archetypal queen bee cheerleader.<br/>
<br/>
But in the times you've seen her, and in the few interactions Samantha's had with her, Kendra is almost Chelsea's polar opposite. She carries herself with a level of confidence -- arrogance really -- that you've only ever seen out of someone like Amanda Ferguson. She always appears cool, collected and completely in control. Where Chelsea rules by complete force of will Kendra has charisma. Chelsea will just demand you do something but Kendra will push every button you have getting you to do things without ever having to outright tell you.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea comes off more like a bratty princess; Kendra a seductive queen.<br/>
<br/>
It's that difference, then, that makes someone like Kendra a wholly more detestable person to Samantha than Chelsea. Chelsea, even if she's not trying to be, is very up front and transparent. But Kendra is shadowy and duplicitous which might possibly make her even more dangerous.<br/>
<br/>
Which of course makes it odd that everything has come together such as it has. Samantha (well, you) having to keep up to date on the drama that causes her such a headache, as Chelsea's mole having to play a role that would unnerve her greatly and now standing here in the loft above the gym with Kendra Saunders except it's really a mask of Kendra worn by...<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea, what are you doing in that thing?" you finally ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I just... it's dumb," she replies in frustration. "I wanted to try that mask out, like what we used on Gary and the real--" she waves her hand. "So I did it after practice. Kendra was easier than... than Yumi or... and she's dangerous, Will! She's so--"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea, relax. I'll get you out but--"<br/>
<br/>
"Right," replies Kendra. "Kendra she... she thinks she's so fucking sly but I know she's talking to that <i>bitch</i> Lin! She's probably talking to Kelsey too!"<br/>
<br/>
"On your orders?"<br/>
<br/>
"No!" she emphatically declares. "She just wants to... god it pisses me off! She probably just wants to work every angle so she's on the winning side no matter what but she's not as smooth as she thinks she is. So I had to deal with her but... but I got freaked out that maybe it might not work that well if I had more than, like, the ones I had with Gary and Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
"So you, what, put on Kendra's mask so you could look at everything personally?"<br/>
<br/>
Kendra nods at that, her auburn-hued curls flopping this way and that. "I put some of that stuff in my mask because I figured even if <i>Chelsea</i> wasn't listening to me we'd be on the same page. But now..." She looks at you, her dark eyes water and pleading. "Just help me get it off."<br/>
<br/>
You reach out towards her face, ready to chant the magic words that'll help you pull the mask off when something she says gives you pause.<br/>
<br/>
"It's stupid, I don't even have everything."<br/>
<br/>
You eye her queerly. "What do you mean you don't everything?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Like up here," she answers as she taps the side of her head. "Like if I think really, really hard I get, like, a piece here and there but not everything. How long does it take to get all of it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Immediately?" you reply in bewilderment. "I had it all as soon as I put on the mask. So much that it took me a little bit to even sort out if I was Samantha or myself."<br/>
<br/>
Kendra can only give you the stinkeye. "Stop bullshitting me," she states with barely disguised annoyance.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea, why would I bullshit you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because you..." But she trails off, her eyes darting around as she shifts uncomfortably. "I guess you wouldn't," she admits, "because you've been straight with me so far." At that point her expression changes, not brightening so much as if she's just had an epiphany. "Oh my god, you could've used this stuff on... on <i>me</i>! You could've..." she gulps.<br/>
<br/>
"But I didn't. You haven't given me any reason to distrust you and I really do want to help you," you tell her. "Besides it's kind of my fault. If I'd never given the book to Caleb..."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, whatever, you didn't and I," she shifts some more, still uncomfortably. "Thanks."<br/>
<br/>
You damn near fall flat on your face when you hear that.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's almost right after her unexpected gratitude that she goes back to telling you to get the mask off of her. So you do and if you're expecting another "thank you" once she's back to normal then it's not coming. So instead you tell her the words she'll need to chant so she can take a mask off and though she's reluctant she gives in to your insistence that she try it herself. So Kendra's mask goes back onto her face and after going over the chant with her again you have her try it herself.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my god, it worked! I did it!" she exclaims excitedly once she's back to herself. Again if you're expecting thanks then you're left wanting because immediately her eyes light up and she's on to what she feels are more pressing concerns.<br/>
<br/>
"So, what's up with her? With the basketball team? You said that she's friends with Catherine Muskov right? Come on, tell me!"<br/>
<br/>
She's practically speaking a thousand miles a minute and you tell her to slow down.<br/>
<br/>
"Samantha's on good terms with a lot of people but the basketball team..." That gives you pause. It's been becoming such a sour point for Samantha over the last month and she hates thinking about it, but Chelsea wants to know so you don't really have any choice but to press on. "She's been pretty withdrawn from most of the team lately," you admit. "Samantha really, <i>really</i> doesn't like drama but for whatever reason... you know what's going on with the girls soccer team right?"<br/>
<br/>
"With that girl that came over from Eastman and Anita right? I've at least heard about it," Chelsea says.<br/>
<br/>
"Well for whatever reason it's spilled over onto the team because Stephanie Wyatt, for whatever reason, has a bug up her ass about that girl, Hannah, too," you explain. "So Stephanie and Anita have been working together, trying to fuck with Hannah though Samantha doesn't know how. She just doesn't want deal with the drama so she's been hanging around Catherine more. Things between Anita and Stephanie and Hannah are getting worse and Samantha wants no part of it."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's eyes gleam. "Maybe there's something I can work with there but I'd have to think about it some more. Anything else I should know?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"She's really good friends with a bunch of Eastman girls that play on a couple of the teams over there," you tell her. "They all live in the same neighborhood."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea gives it a moment of thought but dismisses it. "I'm not really worried about Eastman right now," she says, "but it might be good to know in the future. What I <i>am</i> worried about is making sure everything's right with the squad."<br/>
<br/>
She's holding Kendra's mask and examines it intently as she turns it this way and that. "She's more useful to me than that girl you are right now but..." You can see the gears turning in her head. "Hey do you want to switch? Like put that stuff in that girl's mask and then you take over for Kendra?"<br/>
<br/>
"You want me to be Kendra?" you ask in astonishment. "You trust me that much?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea just grunts. "You haven't fucked me over yet so sure, maybe a little," she states. "Like I said, I'm worried there might be problems with her if I try to just put this mask on her seeing as I've already got Gary and Gordon under my control. Kendra's way too dangerous to leave alone so I need to make sure she's neutralized. But if you don't want to..."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea looks you directly in the eye with a grim seriousness you haven't seen since getting entangled with her. "If you're going to stay then you need to find an angle to work that'll help me out," she tells you. She then looks back down at the mask. "I'll stick the rest of the day out as Kendra. I know her enough that I can probably do it, plus I think I had a little bit more by the time you took the mask off than when I first put it on."<br/>
<br/>
"So if I'm staying as Samantha..."<br/>
<br/>
"Somebody has to be Kendra so I guess I'd stick it out for a little bit until I feel better about her staying under my control," she says. "Do you know where Kendra lives?" When you respond negatively she gives you her address. "Come by Kendra's after school and we'll figure out what's going on."</span></div></div>


path: 113122112111321111
author_id: rugal
title: A Girl Full of Possibilities
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's not too long after Chelsea makes your post-school plans for you and slips back into Kendra's mask that the bell for the end of fifth period rings. The two of you slip out of the fuck room and Chelsea's quick about beating it out of the gym completely. But for the next two periods Samantha's got basketball practice which means you don't really have any reason to leave the gym. Instead you make your way over to the girl's locker room and begin changing.<br/>
<br/>
It's as you're throwing a jersey on that the rest of the team -- all but Corale coming from lunch -- filters in.<br/>
<br/>
"You're here early," says Kristy Suffolk as she walks up next to you, her own locker being close to Samantha's. "You weren't eating with Catherine and them?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nuh uh," you shake your head. "I had some business I had to take care of here." You hope that's enough to dissuade any further questions as Kristy's thankfully not generally one to prod people for gossip. But this seems to be one of the times where she's tossing that quality aside so you're finally forced to respond to her little hints. "Remember yesterday?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
It takes her a minute but Kristy's face shows that she's finally got it. "So this was about Chelsea?" she asks. "What'd she even want yesterday?"<br/>
<br/>
"Something about throwing the support of the cheerleaders behind the team," you explain. "I thought it would be about that, like working everything out, but I think she was just bullshitting me."<br/>
<br/>
Kristy can only sigh. "She was probably just looking for a gossip pipeline,"she says.<br/>
<br/>
"Well she picked the wrong person."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, no kidding," she replies with a small laugh. "But it's not like she'd know that or really anything about us."<br/>
<br/>
"You think that's it?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Mmm, yeah definitely," she answers. "I mean she's easy to read; I don't think she's ever heard the word subtlety before."<br/>
<br/>
"So why would she suddenly have interest in the team?"<br/>
<br/>
"No idea." You watch as Kristy throws her own locker open and begins to pull out her own clothes. "Maybe she's heard about everything that's going on with... you know. She'll probably start grilling some people from the soccer team too. God, that means I probably have to be on the look as well."<br/>
<br/>
You can feel your heart sink at that. Out of anyone on the team Samantha's always gotten along the best with Kristy, a girl who's far less intense than one would expect when taking a quick look at her. Kristy, being mindful of Samantha's own inclinations, has always kept drama talk to a minimum. Yet as of late she's started hanging around more and more with Stephanie and Almida and the others and getting mixed up with them.<br/>
<br/>
It's something that's caused Samantha at least a mild bit of distress.<br/>
<br/>
"Well I don't want to think about what her reasons are," you say wiping away any possibility of further discussion about <i>that</i> piece of business. "All I know is that she said she was thinking about doing it and then nothing came of it. I don't really have any reason to concern myself with it beyond that."<br/>
<br/>
Kristy just shrugs at that and while she changes the conversation is a little more strained between the two of you. Is Samantha losing one of her friends to all of this crap she's begun to wonder? Even more reason to hate it then. If she could do something about it, get the whole entire silly affair to stop, she'd do it in a heartbeat. She wants to enjoy being on the team again, she wants to make sure that there's no real straining of her and Kristy's bond.<br/>
<br/>
But she can't just snap her fingers and fix it. Not just because solutions that easy don't exist (or do they...) but because of one very specific person.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"C'mon Nell, work harder! You're our center, you can't be allowing me or anyone to just blow by you like that!"<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry," replies Nell Hammond with a level of contrition that seems to be at odds with her appearance. Dark-skinned, tall and brawny, she's the team's starting center and an intimidating sight for most people.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry doesn't mean shit, Nell! That was just Meghan, imagine if it was Chamberlain or Choi; you'd be flat on your ass!"<br/>
<br/>
Stephanie Wyatt, however, is not "most people". You knew her back in elementary school. Well, perhaps knew isn't the correct word. Rather you were in the same class a few times back then and even now, through middle school and your senior year of high school the both of you wind up in a class or two together every so often. But in all that time she's never really talked much to you. She knows your name and that's about where your interactions really begin and end.<br/>
<br/>
Usually if she is acknowledging you it's in the form of a hard glare. Stephanie's a pretty girl, certainly among the better looking of this bunch, but that quiet intensity and the way it intimidates you does her no favors.<br/>
<br/>
But those are your own thoughts. What of the girl who you're now impersonating? Who, as her teammate over the last few years, should have a much better picture of her than you?<br/>
<br/>
Samantha's own feelings about Stephanie are... mixed. She doesn't hate her, not really. Only someone with reputations for shit-stirring, treachery and discord truly earn her ire. On the one hand as a teammate Samantha holds a great deal of respect for Stephanie. Stephanie's been playing the longest, she's the most athletic and far and away the team's best player. She works hard and plays with an intense determination.<br/>
<br/>
However it's that same intensity that does not endear Stephanie to Samantha as it clashes with the girl's own mild temperament. Stephanie expects people to rise to her level and can get frustrated when she feels that's not the case. She's bossy and forceful and though officially Almida Jones is the team's captain, in practice it's Stephanie who's the clear leader.<br/>
<br/>
Even off the court she's not much different. Samantha's hung out with her plenty, usually along with other teammates, and even in a casual situation this aspect of her personality manifests itself. Whether or not Stephanie does it consciously Samantha doesn't really know. All that she does know is that it makes Stephanie an exhausting person to deal with. Even beyond that though Stephanie never comes off as the most pleasant person for Samantha to deal with.<br/>
<br/>
For Samantha, Stephanie Wyatt is a very prickly individual.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Practice continues over the next two hours as you run drills, play scrimmages and practice on various aspects of the game; Samantha, for instance, is a pretty accurate shooter so you make sure to spend time practicing shots. Once practice does break you're quick to shower off and change and, to your surprise, decide not to linger or ogle at the various girls. Not to say that there's not attractive ones: Stephanie of course and Kristy and even in their own ways Katy Conlee and Meghan Velasquez.<br/>
<br/>
However you just do not feel that level of desire. Maybe it's Samantha's own instincts overriding yours? Because Samantha is aggressively straight. She she has no boyfriend now but she'd like one. It would just need to be someone clean cut, someone willing to take things slow and steady.<br/>
<br/>
As you're lost in your own thoughts however that doesn't mean you're tuning out the world completely and you wind up overhearing something that catches your interest. Kristy and Stephanie are talking and you guess Kristy asks her what she's doing after school because you more clearly make out Stephanie saying that she's going to be getting together with Eva and Jessica which makes sense. Some times during get togethers the Garners would be around because, after all, they're good friends with Stephanie.<br/>
<br/>
And Stephanie's good friends with the Garners.<br/>
<br/>
It's there that you begin tossing the possibilities around in your head. As you finish dressing, say your goodbyes and head to the last period of the day and as you sit in Mr. Santiago's AP American government class you think of what Chelsea tasked you with if you chose to stay as Samantha. By the time the final bell rings you think you've hit upon that angle she wanted.<br/>
<br/>
Quite simply, use a mask on Stephanie. If you could do the same trick to the mask that you did to your own that would mean you could put a treated mask of Stephanie onto her and you'd suddenly have the de facto leader of the girl's basketball team under your control. From there you can have her put pressure on the Garners for whatever reason Chelsea would need.<br/>
<br/>
But there's another possibility as well: use a mask on Stephanie and then switch over to her. You can treat Samantha's mask and put it on, then take over as Stephanie Wyatt. This would in effect give you control over the team, a place to watch and possibly manipulate the soccer team drama and an easy way to apply pressure or keep tabs on the Garners for Chelsea. Hell, maybe even use your position as Stephanie to grab masks of the Garners as well.<br/>
<br/>
But that might not be such a good idea. Chelsea said that so far she's trusted you and though you have no intention of betraying that trust she might see things differently. With Stephanie under control or you under her mask Chelsea might see you as trying to build up your own power base and possibly challenge her. You really don't need, or want, to deal with a suddenly paranoid Chelsea Cooper.<br/>
<br/>
She'd already been annoyed you rejected becoming Yumi or Cindy. Now she's pushing Kendra on you. Clearly she wants you helping her with the squad as one of its members, probably because she trusts you and probably so she can keep an eye on you. In that respect, because that's what would obviously make her the happiest it might well be the safest option to go with.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121113211111
author_id: rugal
title: The Schemer
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Kendra Saunders lives in a fairly non-distinct house in a fairly non-distinct neighborhood between 40th and 30th Streets and close city hall. That's not to say it's a shabby house, just that it's a fairly cookie cutter house amongst a forest of cookie cutter houses. For someone with Kendra's demeanor it somehow seems off, as if you'd expect something to match her confident attitude. But for someone with Kendra's inclinations it may well be perfect, hiding in plain sight as it were.<br/>
<br/>
It's with trepidation, then, that you ring the doorbell. Yes it'll be Chelsea under that mask of Kendra but, well, Kendra's very presence should always put you on guard. Because what if Chelsea was able to get more of Kendra in the time since lunch? So much so that she lost herself in Kendra's identity much as you initially did in Samantha's? It would be the ultimate coup you think; that Kendra usurps control from Chelsea by completely taking over her mind.<br/>
<br/>
But whatever fears you have about that wash away as soon as the door opens.<br/>
<br/>
"You made it!" Kendra greets you with an uncharacteristic chipperness. She grabs you by the hands and practically drags you in, closing the door behind you.<br/>
<br/>
"So, is it just us?" you ask her as you look around.<br/>
<br/>
"Her parents are still at work if that's what you mean," she replies. "No brothers or sisters or anything like that either so it'll just be us."<br/>
<br/>
You follow her up the stars and down a hall to a room on the left at the far end. The walls are painted a stark white and the room is decorated with lots of darker colors -- purple seems to be a recurring one -- and the types of things you'd expect in a girl's room. But there's one important, if temporary, addition to the decor: Chelsea Cooper sitting patiently on Kendra's bed.<br/>
<br/>
"It's great!" Kendra exclaims with girlish glee as she stands across from the fake Chelsea. "The mask totally works and she has to listen to everything I say! Isn't that right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever you say," replies the Chelseabot with deadpan disinterest.<br/>
<br/>
"It's even better than that too if you can believe it," Kendra continues, "because I'm starting to get more of her stuff. Like I'm starting to know more things and, like, I can feel her personality or whatever there too."<br/>
<br/>
"That's great," you tell her. "So does that mean you'll have everything?"<br/>
<br/>
"Probably in a bit. I don't get why it's taking me so long though." she whines. "You said you didn't have any problems."<br/>
<br/>
All you can do is shrug. "Maybe it's different for everyone?" you say though of course you're not really sure about that answer.<br/>
<br/>
"Well it's not like it's going to matter much anyway," she says, "because you're going to be Kendra real soon, right?"<br/>
<br/>
You'd thought long and hard for the rest of the school day and even on the drive over her. It's only been a day but you've grown to like Samantha and her penchant for staying away from drama. You find her life to be very comfortable, calming even. You feel that if you stayed as her you could help Chelsea from the fringes while laying back and enjoying the company of her friends.<br/>
<br/>
But while that may benefit you it wouldn't really be of much benefit to Chelsea. You've already irritated her a little bit by going with Samantha in the first place. If you keep pushing back or getting cold feet it might very well be you under one of these new masks. So much as it might pain you, you'd much rather keep on Chelsea's good side.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you tell her. "I'll switch over to Kendra for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Great!" she exclaims. "So we can get started right away and--"<br/>
<br/>
"Hold it," you say. "What happens to Samantha?"<br/>
<br/>
"What about her?" she replies. "You call your whatsit over here, we put your mask on Kendra and let the the girl go."<br/>
<br/>
"But that's kind of complicated isn't it?" you ask. "I mean wouldn't it be easier to just treat this mask and then put it on Kendra?"<br/>
<br/>
The reality is that you don't care about ease, you simply don't want to give up Samantha completely. You want her under your control because that means that when you feel like you need to, if you start to feel overwhelmed, you can always swap into her for a day. She'd serve as a kind of retreat from the scheming, drama and pressures that are sure to come with being Kendra.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess," Kendra shrugs. "I mean it makes as much sense as anything."<br/>
<br/>
You actually didn't expect her to acquiesce so easily. Now you want to delay any kind of a switch, you want to stay just a little bit longer where you are. "What about Kendra's mask?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"What about it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I mean, you were going to use it on her originally right?" you say. "So I'm guessing that means you used the stuff on it as well."<br/>
<br/>
Kendra just stares at you for a moment before shaking her head. "Uh, no? I never said anything like that," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"What?!" you exclaim. "But you said that you used it on her this morning!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, the <i>mask</i>, durr," she replies. "I told you, I got cold feet about using that stuff on it because I was worried about her not listening to me. I only ever used it on <i>my</i> mask, Kendra's is fine."<br/>
<br/>
Well shit, that ploy is out and you don't think you can delay it anymore. "Alright," you relent. "We'll get started right away."<br/>
<br/>
"Great!" Kendra exclaims as she opens the door to the bedroom.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, where are you going?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Me? Nowhere," Kendra says. "The bathroom's across the hall. That's where you're going to change. Just, uh, be quick and knock on the door so I'll know you're ready and I don't have to see anything."<br/>
<br/>
You want to argue but figure that it's pointless so you gather up Samantha's things and head across the hall. You make sure to strip out of your clothes once you're in the bathroom and lament at losing out on her lithe but well muscled form. Then you sit down and take the mask off.<br/>
<br/>
Coming to you dig through Samantha's bags. You still have some of the stuff you'll need to golemize her mask (though they're the <i>only</i> supplies you've got that aren't at the school basement) so you make sure to do that. From there it's a bit of shuffling around. You quickly pass the mask, clothes and bag to Chelsea while making sure to hide, well, everything. You're forced to wait in the bathroom for a few minutes before there's a knocking.<br/>
<br/>
Samantha's voice is on the other side of the door so you open it. She hands you a mask -- Kendra's presumably -- and clothes while making sure to look the other so as to avoid seeing anything. You then send her on her way. Kendra Saunders, you realize as you take another seat against the wall. <i>I'm really going to be her</i>, you think as you raise the mask to your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You moan as you drag yourself to your feet. You feel out of it, dizzy... and yet so, so good. And why shouldn't you? Your skin is silky smooth and a fine, delicious caramel. You have strong, muscular thighs and a large chest. "Mmm," you moan in a voice as smooth as your skin; a voice that drives the boys nuts.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, you should certainly feel good because you're strong, smart, beautiful, regal. Most importantly, you're Kendra fucking Saunders. You're the sexiest girl in school, the cleverest in school and you sure as hell will soon be the top girl in school. Once you've out maneuvered that bleach-haired bimbo...<br/>
<br/>
Whoa, whoa! God, Kendra hit you stronger than Samantha did. Short but... intense. There wasn't even a hint of cloudiness. You weren't trying to parse through your identity trying to remember if you were Kendra or Will. No, for a moment there Will Prescott didn't exist, only Kendra Saunders did. She has a strong mind, a very strong one and suddenly that stupid worry about Kendra's mind taking control of Chelsea as she acclimated to the mask doesn't seem so stupid.<br/>
<br/>
If you're going to be Kendra then that means you're going to have to be careful. Her desires are strong, the temptation to give into those desires is strong. It's a surprise that she hasn't taken control of the school already but almost immediately you realize a flaw in Kendra's own psyche: she loves to plot, loves to scheme but gets too caught up in it. If she put even one of those plans into motion she probably could've toppled Chelsea a long time ago.<br/>
<br/>
So why couldn't you? You're <i>not</i> Kendra after all, merely someone with access to her body and her mind and if you wanted to you could probably turn on Chelsea and run the show yourself. How? Oh there's numerous ways, numerous contingencies and plots that Kendra's had filed away although these masks introduced the much simply route of just using one of them to control Chelsea. Yeah, having Chelsea under your control...<br/>
<br/>
Shit, if you wanted to run things why not do it that way? Put Chelsea under Kendra's control by releasing Kendra. Make a new mask of Chelsea, put Chelsea under a mask and give Chelsea's mask to the real Kendra? Could Kendra be cowed like that? Well, it would certainly be a fun little game the two of you could play. A game where the both of you are on equal footing mentally.<br/>
<br/>
And mentally you slap yourself. What are you thinking? Betray Chelsea? For what purpose? You're doing this to help Chelsea after all and you've no intention of betraying her.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea was right. Kendra is a very, very dangerous person and if you're not careful you could very well fall right into her trap.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121113211112
author_id: rugal
title: The Usurper
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Kendra Saunders lives in a fairly non-distinct house in a fairly non-distinct neighborhood between 40th and 30th Streets and close city hall. That's not to say it's a shabby house, just that it's a fairly cookie cutter house amongst a forest of cookie cutter houses. For someone with Kendra's demeanor it somehow seems off, as if you'd expect something to match her confident attitude. But for someone with Kendra's inclinations it may well be perfect, hiding in plain sight as it were.<br/>
<br/>
It's with trepidation, then, that you ring the doorbell. Yes it'll be Chelsea under that mask of Kendra but, well, Kendra's very presence should always put you on guard. Because what if Chelsea was able to get more of Kendra in the time since lunch? So much so that she lost herself in Kendra's identity much as you initially did in Samantha's? It would be the ultimate coup you think; that Kendra usurps control from Chelsea by completely taking over her mind.<br/>
<br/>
But whatever fears you have about that wash away as soon as the door opens.<br/>
<br/>
"You made it!" Kendra greets you with an uncharacteristic chipperness. She grabs you by the hands and practically drags you in, closing the door behind you.<br/>
<br/>
"So, is it just us?" you ask her as you look around.<br/>
<br/>
"Her parents are still at work if that's what you mean," she replies. "No brothers or sisters or anything like that either so it'll just be us."<br/>
<br/>
You follow her up the stars and down a hall to a room on the left at the far end. The walls are painted a stark white and the room is decorated with lots of darker colors -- purple seems to be a recurring one -- and the types of things you'd expect in a girl's room. But there's one important, if temporary, addition to the decor: Chelsea Cooper sitting patiently on Kendra's bed.<br/>
<br/>
"It's great!" Kendra exclaims with girlish glee as she stands across from the fake Chelsea. "The mask totally works and she has to listen to everything I say! Isn't that right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever you say," replies the Chelseabot with deadpan disinterest.<br/>
<br/>
"It's even better than that too if you can believe it," Kendra continues, "because I'm starting to get more of her stuff. Like I'm starting to know more things and, like, I can feel her personality or whatever there too."<br/>
<br/>
"That's great," you tell her. "So does that mean you'll have everything?"<br/>
<br/>
"Probably in a bit. I don't get why it's taking me so long though." she whines. "You said you didn't have any problems."<br/>
<br/>
All you can do is shrug. "Maybe it's different for everyone?" you say though of course you're not really sure about that answer.<br/>
<br/>
"Well it's not like it's going to matter much anyway," she says, "because you're going to be Kendra real soon, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, no."<br/>
<br/>
That causes Kendra's previously bright face to darken. "What do you mean no? I thought we agreed that you'd take over for her," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"We agreed to do it if I couldn't find you an angle using the basketball team," you shoot back undaunted. "But I've got something and I figured that I'd run it by you first."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" she asks in a tone that's as challenging to you as you've ever heard.<br/>
<br/>
"Stephanie Wyatt," is all you say.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You spend the next little bit explaining everything to her: that Stephanie Wyatt is the basketball team's unofficial captain, you reiterate the increasingly bitter rivalry that Stephanie and Anita Nuevo have with Hannah Westrick, the Eastman transfer. More tantalizing for Chelsea, you hope, is telling her that Stephanie is also good friends with Eva and Jessica Garner and that she can be used to leverage them.<br/>
<br/>
"So you're going to just, what, switch over to this Stephanie girl?" asks Kendra.<br/>
<br/>
"No," you shake your head. "I think she's useful but... I like where I am. I don't need to switch twenty different times to be able to help you out."<br/>
<br/>
"So what, then?"<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't it obvious?" you ask. "I just hit her with a mask, treat it and then she's under my control. I can order her to lean on the Garners for you, try and bring them over to your side."<br/>
<br/>
"You think they'd listen to her?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"More than they'd listen to Cindy and the rest of them I'd assume," you reply. "They've known Stephanie way longer than they've known the cheerleaders."<br/>
<br/>
Kendra's face is deep in thought and things in the room are quiet for a few moments. Eventually, however, she looks back at you with a renewed vigor. "Okay, we'll use one of those masks on this Stephanie Wyatt girl," she says. "But..."<br/>
<br/>
"But what?"<br/>
<br/>
"We need to make sure it works," she begins to explain. "We have to make sure that Jessica and Eva do what we need them to do and if they won't listen normally then, well, we'll need to use some of these masks on <i>them</i>. If we want it done right then it'll require a personal touch."<br/>
<br/>
"A personal touch?" you ask. "So what, you want me to switch into Stephanie's mask instead?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh no way, you're fine where you are!" she exclaims. Her face, thought bright, has a dark light hidden behind the eyes. Oh yes, she's been plotting and has hit upon what she thinks is a grand idea. "I'll wear her mask. I'll be this girl."<br/>
<br/>
"You?!" you exclaim, your eyes feeling like they're going to cartoonishly bulge out of their sockets. "You don't know anything about her! You can't even remember her name, you <i>just</i> called her This Girl."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh whatever," Kendra replies dismissively. "I told you that I've got more of Kendra's, uh, her head inside of <i>my</i> head than I did at lunch. So if I can wear this girl's mask for a while I should probably have everything I need, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"But that's not guaranteed," you argue. "Besides, what are you going to do about Kendra? You were worried about her not staying under her control weren't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well yeah, at first I was," she admits. "But I was messing around with, uh, myself I guess," she laughs a little at that, "and she had to do everything I said. So, like, I'm a lot more confident that if I put this mask on someone then Kendra would have to listen to me. I don't think it's going to be a problem. Besides, if I'm Stephanie doesn't that make it a lot easier for us to talk?"<br/>
<br/>
She's right and that's kind of getting under your skin.<br/>
<br/>
You came to her with the idea of using the masks so you could control Stephanie and instead she's pretty much taken control of the entire thing away from you. She hasn't given you reason to think she'd screw you over so far but still, if she controls herself, Gordon, Gary Chen, Kendra Saunders and Stephanie Wyatt while you've got Samantha Carpenter and your own otherwise useless robotic golem doppelganger thing?<br/>
<br/>
Well someone's at a disadvantage and it's certainly not Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
She seems to pick up on your discomfort though and is quick to speak. "Look, I get that you were all, you know, excited about this and everything but this isn't a game, Will. This is important," she states and you can't help but feel as if you're being talked down to. "But you've done a lot to help so far. We're... partners, I guess. You've done right by me so I want to do right by you?"<br/>
<br/>
That's certainly surprising and you're not quite sure what she means by that. "Do right by me? How?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Well I'll have three masks and you'll only have two," she says and you realize she's probably leaving out Gordon and Chen. "So I think it's only fair if I let you have another mask."<br/>
<br/>
"Another mask? Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Anyone," she says. "Whoever you want."<br/>
<br/>
"Anyone?" you ask. "No catch?"<br/>
<br/>
"No catch," she simply states. "I don't want you to feel like you're, like, being left in the cold or anything."<br/>
<br/>
No, she doesn't because if you're left in the cold that'll just leave you with bitter thoughts and bitter thoughts soon turn into seditious thoughts. For whatever else you might want to say about her, few are able to play the political game better than Chelsea. Hell, that you know what's going on but still feel kind of placated by it is a testament to her skill.<br/>
<br/>
So another mask of anyone you want, huh? Anyone is certainly a lot of possibilities and that would mean needing a little bit of time to think on it. Do you want someone that puts you in a good position in case this partnership with Chelsea breaks down? Someone for fun? Someone with distance? Maybe you want to get back at those who've wronged you: Mansfield and the various bullies and the like.<br/>
<br/>
But you can't help to think that there's a caveat at as well. Chelsea probably has people in mind who she'd like you to use the mask on; anything to benefit herself you suppose. But she hasn't really done you dirty so far and you did kind of mess up her initial plans by choosing Samantha. So maybe you owe it to her to let her find someone instead. If nothing else, it'll massage her ego.<br/>
<br/>
But there is still a part of you that thinks it's unfair that she just took Stephanie from you like she did. This was your idea after all and she wouldn't even be in this kind of position without your work on the book; she sure as hell would never be able to have figured it out on her own. Why then should you meekly stand by and let her get her way? Maybe you should stand up to her and insist on taking Stephanie for yourself, even if you probably risk pissing her off.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121113211113
author_id: rugal
title: The Captain
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Kendra Saunders lives in a fairly non-distinct house in a fairly non-distinct neighborhood between 40th and 30th Streets and close city hall. That's not to say it's a shabby house, just that it's a fairly cookie cutter house amongst a forest of cookie cutter houses. For someone with Kendra's demeanor it somehow seems off, as if you'd expect something to match her confident attitude. But for someone with Kendra's inclinations it may well be perfect, hiding in plain sight as it were.<br/>
<br/>
It's with trepidation, then, that you ring the doorbell. Yes it'll be Chelsea under that mask of Kendra but, well, Kendra's very presence should always put you on guard. Because what if Chelsea was able to get more of Kendra in the time since lunch? So much so that she lost herself in Kendra's identity much as you initially did in Samantha's? It would be the ultimate coup you think; that Kendra usurps control from Chelsea by completely taking over her mind.<br/>
<br/>
But whatever fears you have about that wash away as soon as the door opens.<br/>
<br/>
"You made it!" Kendra greets you with an uncharacteristic chipperness. She grabs you by the hands and practically drags you in, closing the door behind you.<br/>
<br/>
"So, is it just us?" you ask her as you look around.<br/>
<br/>
"Her parents are still at work if that's what you mean," she replies. "No brothers or sisters or anything like that either so it'll just be us."<br/>
<br/>
You follow her up the stars and down a hall to a room on the left at the far end. The walls are painted a stark white and the room is decorated with lots of darker colors -- purple seems to be a recurring one -- and the types of things you'd expect in a girl's room. But there's one important, if temporary, addition to the decor: Chelsea Cooper sitting patiently on Kendra's bed.<br/>
<br/>
"It's great!" Kendra exclaims with girlish glee as she stands across from the fake Chelsea. "The mask totally works and she has to listen to everything I say! Isn't that right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever you say," replies the Chelseabot with deadpan disinterest.<br/>
<br/>
"It's even better than that too if you can believe it," Kendra continues, "because I'm starting to get more of her stuff. Like I'm starting to know more things and, like, I can feel her personality or whatever there too."<br/>
<br/>
"That's great," you tell her. "So does that mean you'll have everything?"<br/>
<br/>
"Probably in a bit. I don't get why it's taking me so long though." she whines. "You said you didn't have any problems."<br/>
<br/>
All you can do is shrug. "Maybe it's different for everyone?" you say though of course you're not really sure about that answer.<br/>
<br/>
"Well it's not like it's going to matter much anyway," she says, "because you're going to be Kendra real soon, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, no."<br/>
<br/>
That causes Kendra's previously bright face to darken. "What do you mean no? I thought we agreed that you'd take over for her," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"We agreed to do it if I couldn't find you an angle using the basketball team," you shoot back undaunted. "But I've got something and I figured that I'd run it by you first."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" she asks in a tone that's as challenging to you as you've ever heard.<br/>
<br/>
"Stephanie Wyatt," is all you say.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You spend the next little bit explaining everything to her: that Stephanie Wyatt is the basketball team's unofficial captain, you reiterate the increasingly bitter rivalry that Stephanie and Anita Nuevo have with Hannah Westrick, the Eastman transfer. More tantalizing for Chelsea, you hope, is telling her that Stephanie is also good friends with Eva and Jessica Garner and that she can be used to leverage them.<br/>
<br/>
"So you're going to just, what, switch over to this Stephanie girl?" asks Kendra.<br/>
<br/>
"That's the plan," you tell her. "From there I figure that I can keep an eye on the situation going on with Hannah in case that's a fire that'll need to be put out while also leaning on the Garners, see if I can lure them away from Yumi and Cindy into backing you."<br/>
<br/>
"Would they listen to you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," you admit, "maybe. That'd involve you, well <i>Chelsea</i>, having to placate them a bit; stroke their egos you know? But they've been friends with Stephanie way, way longer than they've been friends with the other girls so her word would care a hell of a lot more weight with them."<br/>
<br/>
"That's good then but..." Kendra stops and, after thinking, seems to have hit upon an idea herself. "But it's not perfect; it's not guaranteed. But I know what is," she looks at you, her face is positively devious, "the masks."<br/>
<br/>
"The masks?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," she says as she takes a seat next to Chelsea. She begins stroking her doppelganger's arm. "I want you to tell me how great I am," Kendra says to her.<br/>
<br/>
"You're great," she replies with thinly veiled disgust.<br/>
<br/>
"With more enthusiasm!" Kendra chirps. "Say, 'you're so great Kendra'!"<br/>
<br/>
"You're so great, Kendra! Amazing even!" This time it's said in a manner you'd expect to hear when Chelsea herself is excited.<br/>
<br/>
"See? If I can even make myself do that then I could make Eva and Jessica do whatever I wanted!" You can hear the excitement building in her voice. "Oh, wait! Actually if this is working so well then I don't have to worry about Kendra."<br/>
<br/>
"That's a good thing," you respond, figuring that you should say something even if it seems she's more in her own world.<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't it?" she replies as she hops to her feet. "Because think about it: that means that I can safely leave her under control and be where I need to be."<br/>
<br/>
"Back as yourself?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, silly; at least not yet." She's practically shaking with excitement now. "If I'm going to deal with all of these troublemakers then I'm going to have to do it right. I'm going to have to do it <i>personally</i>."<br/>
<br/>
Personally?" you ask before it almost immediately dawns on you. "Wait, you mean switching into one of the Garners?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well duh," she says rolling her eyes. "I can't just leave this all to some... some Evabot or Jessicabot can I? This is going to require... hmm, let's say Chelsea's special touch to make sure that it's done right."<br/>
<br/>
You want to groan at that. She certainly seems to have a high opinion of herself although you guess that you can't really blame her seeing that she's gotten as far as she has before ever being introduced to magic books and transformative masks. Her next line of thought, though, makes even more sense.<br/>
<br/>
"Besides, this Stephanie girl doesn't know me or Kendra," she states, "so if you're going to be her then that means it's way easier to stick together, don't you think?"<br/>
<br/>
It's sound logic that you can't really argue with so you agree to make up a mask before heading home, then you'll try and get Stephanie tomorrow. But Chelsea, maybe because of excitement, seems to be impatient now and insists on you making two masks since she wants to move into one of the twins as soon as possible. You were about to argue that it'd be near impossible but you realize you've got two hours to get Stephanie alone tomorrow and from there it should be easy to get one of the Garners.<br/>
<br/>
So instead of one mask, you reiterate as you're leaving that you'll have two masks and she'll be in her new home by this time tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Or you would start on making the masks if you hadn't arrived at the abandoned elementary school to realize one very important thing: you'd forgotten to get the keys to the basement from your own robot double. You've still got some material left with you, mainly the stuff to golemize the masks, but not enough to make a full set of what you need.<br/>
<br/>
So you call him and tell him to get his ass over to the school (in a tone that is very unlike Samantha) right now. "Right now" however turns out to be twenty minutes with your doofus doppelganger insisting it was because he got caught up in something with your mom.<br/>
<br/>
Blowing him off you simply get the keys from him and send him on his way.<br/>
<br/>
You've still got plenty of material right now so you get to work on the now second nature, though still tedious, task of creating and polishing the masks, of creating the brain band and carving the runes onto it. You decide that it'll save a little bit of time if you glue the bands to the mask first, that way it can copy both the mind and body at once, so you get to work on doing that.<br/>
<br/>
Around an hour and a half later you've got two masks with two brain bands glued into them, ready to be used tomorrow on Stephanie Wyatt and... whichever Garner you can get. But what then? Chelsea will work to consolidate her hold on the squad in whatever way that's going to entail and you'll... be there?<br/>
<br/>
That disappoints you a bit.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea can be bossy and demanding but she's put a lot of faith in you, shown you a lot of trust and you want to keep returning it. You want to show her that you're useful, that you're reliable, that you're indispensable. Helping her get the squad completely under control might show that you're the first two but not the third. That would mean going above and beyond in helping her.<br/>
<br/>
Stephanie's not really involved in much beyond... but that's it! This drama between Stephanie and Anita and Hannah could always get worse, not just for those involved but Chelsea; it's a fire that'll need to be put out. But if you could get Anita you'd have effectively neutralized a group that might move on Chelsea once they're done with Hannah.<br/>
<br/>
And Hannah? She's shaken things up in a short time. She's a fast rising star at the school and that could cause problems if she wins out over Stephanie and Anita. She'd have momentum, she'd have confidence; her power would definitely be waxing. You doubt you could get the girl herself but it might be a good idea to see if you can grab one of her friends, that way you could keep an eye on her and, if need be, sabotage her.</span></div></div>


path: 11312211211132111133
author_id: rugal
title: Twin Swaps
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You go over your options, weighing the pros and cons, over and over before deciding that the best course of action is to try for one of Hannah's allies. Getting Anita might mean unquestioned control over the anti-Hannah group but that won't give you unquestioned control over the soccer team and if Anita and Stephanie haven't turned their attention to Chelsea, well, there's probably nothing to worry about from them.<br/>
<br/>
But Hannah? She's a wild card. She's the hot new thing and is likely ambitious. She'll be riding high if she's able to take control of the soccer team and that could mean very bad things for Chelsea. While one of her friends won't be Hannah herself they'd be a good sentry and if Hannah starts looking like she might be a problem then it shouldn't be hard to make the leap from Hannah's friend to Hannah herself. That would mean both sides of the equation are under control as well and can be used to help Chelsea as she makes her play at consolidating power.<br/>
<br/>
It's not that you necessarily care about the cheerleading squad though before you'd gotten mixed up with Chelsea you probably would've sided against her since people you're on friendly terms with -- Yumi Saito and Jenny Ashton -- are against her.<br/>
<br/>
But now? You like the attention that Chelsea has been showing you. She's likely just toying with you, pushing all of your buttons but it's certainly working because she's making you feel special. You'd certainly like to keep it going so you hope that doing something like this for her will play into that.<br/>
<br/>
So that's what you'll do then. Or try to do anyway because for as much as you think it's a great idea you're worried that Chelsea might not go for it even if you're helping her out. For as relatively nice as Chelsea has been to you she's still been bossy and while she hasn't been forcing you to do anything she's certainly made her expectations clear. If you keep proposing all of these jumps to different people will she reach the end of her patience? What will happen if she does?<br/>
<br/>
But those are things to worry about down the road. Right now your concern is on, and should be on, getting Stephanie. The problem is that even if they're on the same team Samantha and Stephanie aren't the closest of friends and since she's started pulling away from the team and towards Catherine's group Samantha hasn't really talked to or hung out with Stephanie. So you'll need to come up with some kind of plausible situation that will get the two of you alone.<br/>
<br/>
It's a lot of thinking, thinking that lasts while you hang out with Monica (the other girls have studies to focus on which leads to a thought that's quickly become another source of worry for Samantha) and through most of the night. By morning though you think you've hit upon an idea that, while not foolproof, should hopefully work out pretty well for you. Of course that revolves around Stephanie being observant and in Samantha, correctly or not, has never quite seen that as a quality that the unofficial captain has possessed.<br/>
<br/>
So you while the day away. Lunch is spent partly in the fuck room as Chelsea -- back to herself -- demands reassurance that you'll have a Garner for her today. You show her the mask and say you'll get it but, perhaps not entirely confident, she says she'll make sure it happens and to meet at her house after school so you can work things out. Once more you reassure her and after a bit of back and forth you reach a compromise saying that you'll meet her in the locker room to make the change.<br/>
<br/>
By sixth, however, it's time to put theory into action.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"You understand, right? You talk to nobody about this. If anyone asks," you pause to give it some thought, "just say that it's a personal matter. That you just needed to vent a bit or something. That doesn't mean you have to change how you act at school or practice or anything and actually I just want you to act normal. You got it?"<br/>
<br/>
Samantha nods. Thankfully she's the type of person who keeps a lot of things to herself anyway with only her closest friends really penetrating the walls erected around her own insecurities. But all the same it's a good thing to reiterate it and with that done you send her back out to practice.<br/>
<br/>
You're left, then, to dress in Stephanie's own practice clothes and you savor every moment of it. Though Samantha is also in excellent shape she possesses the lithe build of a runner while Stephanie possesses the muscled firmness of someone who's grown up playing a lot of soccer and a lot of basketball. Arms that, though lacking in any sculpture, feel powerful. Thighs and calves that are thick and solid.<br/>
<br/>
Unlike Samantha, Stephanie's chest does not disappoint. Her breasts are a good size and when you put your bra on you make no efforts to stop yourself from grabbing some nice handfuls.<br/>
<br/>
But Stephanie's needed back in the gym so you can't take the time out to further appreciate yourself. Getting into character and running the rest of practice the way Stephanie would is almost an immediate thing. You do your best while running it to avoid singling out Samantha though you do push a little bit of extra praise her way when she hits a particularly good shot or gets a good steal on defense. After all, it's about the only thing Stephanie would think to do for someone like her.<br/>
<br/>
Thankfully she's not as unobservant as Samantha had suspected so your plan went off without a hitch. It was simple really, merely you allowed some of the anxiety to surface a bit more than normal and a bit more than what the real girl would typically allow. It had eventually caught Stephanie's attention and you asked to speak to her privately. You didn't mention the exact reasons why but you'd given her a story about feeling dissatisfied and that the thought of quitting the team had creeped into your mind.<br/>
<br/>
Stephanie of course did what she could to talk you into staying and while she talked you'd dug in Samantha's locker and grabbed the first of the blank masks. Everything was gravy from that point.<br/>
<br/>
Once practice has wound down and you've changed back into Stephanie's normal clothes you're back on your phone as you try and decide which Garner to try and bring out. Obviously you can't have both, otherwise you'll just be exposed and ruin everything. You yourself don't have a preference since you're not aware of any of the real differences between them. But Stephanie, as one of their closest friends, is and with her brain you think you've got a pretty good idea of who's more likely to go with it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Ugh, I thought maybe when I was getting better with Kendra it'd be the same with one of them but it's like... like I'm back at square one!"<br/>
<br/>
Eva Garner pouts in a manner that to Stephanie's mind is incredibly disconcerting. To your own it looks like Eva doing a spot on Chelsea impression. "You don't have anything?" you ask her.<br/>
<br/>
Eva can only shake her head. "This is so frustrating!" she cries. "How am I supposed to be her if I don't have her brain? How come <i>you</i> don't have the same problem?"<br/>
<br/>
"I couldn't tell you," you shrug. "Maybe you're so confident in yourself that you have a hard time thinking of yourself as someone else?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's..." she begins but stops herself. "It makes as much sense as any-fucking-thing else," she grumbles in frustration.<br/>
<br/>
"Well you were getting better with Kendra after, what, three or four hours? Just stay away from Jessica and..." that gives you pause as you suddenly feel your heart begin to race. "Well, just stay away from her for as long as possible."<br/>
<br/>
Eva can do nothing but grumble some more but you can tell that means she agrees with you. "Well, I can't just, like, disappear. Jessica and Mark are going to want to know where I am since, like, I think all three of them ride together or something," she states.<br/>
<br/>
Once more you feel your heart race but you brush it off. "Well, just text Jessica, her number's in Eva's phone right?" you ask. "Anyway, just text her and tell her you're going to be at my place for a bit."<br/>
<br/>
"But what if she decides to come over?" asks a grim Eva.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not like they're stuck up each others' asses all the time," you retort.<br/>
<br/>
Eva agrees, the text is sent and soon enough the two of you (and Stephanie's younger brother Craig) are on your way back to Stephanie's. And why Eva? Well for you it was a coin toss. Stephanie's own instincts told you that Eva is the slightly less uptight of the two so you took the chance. Lucky for you it paid off.<br/>
<br/>
What plans Chelsea has from behind Eva's face your not sure and when you'd asked her while waiting for Craig she'd simply said she'd tell you once she had a better handle on things. And though her tone is one of frustration for obvious reasons, her body language betrays a giddiness. She's excited and in a far better mood than she's letting on.<br/>
<br/>
Hopefully that means proposing the further jump to one of Hannah's friends will go well. But it might not. Maybe it's better to just do it and tell her after the fact; present it as a fait accompli and hope there's not much she can do once the deed is done. And you still can't suppress that worried feeling that no matter what you risk upsetting her. Stephanie's certainly not a bad place to be and you'd still be close to Chelsea so why risk anything?</span></div></div>


path: 11312211212
author_id: seuzz
title: When Ambitions Collide
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>So Chelsea wants another mask. That's no trouble. You've got two unfinished ones on hand: the one that Gordon had been working on, and the one that you made as part of your own experiments.<br/>
<br/>
But they have to be polished until they are blue. At home, after an hour of rubbing at one with a cloth, you grimly conclude that it's going to take a lot of serious elbow grease to get the thing done.<br/>
<br/>
It's your dad, surprisingly, who comes to your rescue.<br/>
<br/>
You're lounging on your bed with the mask and watching YouTube videos on your cell phone when he barges in to ask when the last time was you had the oil changed in your truck. You don't remember, so he gives you his credit card and tells you to have it done on your way home from school tomorrow. Then he asks about the thing you've got in your hand.<br/>
<br/>
"It's a school project," you stammer. "Someone else's project, I mean. Art project. I'm helping."<br/>
<br/>
"How?"<br/>
<br/>
"Polishing it. It's, uh, supposed to be blue all over."<br/>
<br/>
With a scowl he takes it from you and studies it. Then he leads you downstairs to the garage, where he unpacks a car buffer and shows you how to work it. "Maybe this'll make it go faster," he says.<br/>
<br/>
And it does. Inside of two hours, you've polished up both masks.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That still gives you plenty of time to think about what Chelsea said to you at her house. About how you might want to ... turn yourself into one of your classmates.<br/>
<br/>
She told you a good story, that's for sure: How by turning yourself into Yumi or Lin or Cindy you could find out why Lisa dumped your ass, and what you could do about it. <br/>
<br/>
But you saw through her.<br/>
<br/>
You're not close friends with those girls, or with the Garner sisters, but you've heard them talking about the cheerleader squad, and the kind of things that happen on it. How Chelsea is a tyrant and a terror, how most of the girls hate her and want to kick her out as squad captain, and how she sends her lickspittles around to spy and spread hateful gossip. <br/>
<br/>
So Chelsea doesn't want you to spy on Lisa. She wants you to spy on her rivals; and since Yumi and Lin and Cindy are three of her enemies, she probably wants you to use the disguise to spy on them and maybe spread a little mischief.<br/>
<br/>
Which is okay. Well, it's not <i>okay-okay,</i> it's certainly not moral or ethical, but you get it.<br/>
<br/>
But if you go along with her, it will be on your own terms and for your own benefit.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I'm gonna get a new girlfriend," you declare to your friends the next day at lunch. You and Caleb and Keith are sitting behind the school, in a corner where you're not likely to be hassled. You drop the declaration into the awkward silence that descends after Keith finished complaining about a math quiz that he bombed.<br/>
<br/>
"Did you hear what I said?" you ask when neither of your friends responds.<br/>
<br/>
"I heard you," Caleb says. "Good luck with that." He shoves his sandwich into his mouth and keeps his eyes locked onto the empty baseball diamond across the way.<br/>
<br/>
"You think I can't get one, don't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't say that."<br/>
<br/>
"What about you?" you challenge Tilley.<br/>
<br/>
"I ain't sayin' nothin'," he replies.<br/>
<br/>
You feel your face turning red. "No, you guys really think I can't. Well, fuck you."<br/>
<br/>
"We're not the ones you're trying to get a fuck on with," Caleb says.<br/>
<br/>
Keith starts to scoop up his unfinished meal. "Where are you going?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
"Someplace else," he says. "I got my granddad's trick knee, I think it's telling me there's bad weather coming."<br/>
<br/>
You glower at his retreating back, and let the silence extend for another minute before turning back to Caleb. "The fuck is wrong with us?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's nothing wrong with me."<br/>
<br/>
"I mean, none of us have a girlfriend. What's wrong with us that we don't?"<br/>
<br/>
"You had one," Caleb says in a very neutral tone, and pours the last of his potato chips into his mouth. "At least you said you did. Are you really over Lisa?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. That's how come I'm saying I want a new one. But I'm not getting a lot of support, it seems like."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb makes a face. "The fuck do you want me to say, Will? What would <i>you</i> say if I said, I'm gonna get me a new girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>I'd say, When did you have an old one?</i> "I'd say, Great, who you got your eye on? Who are you gonna ask out?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb looks startled. "Really? You'd say that?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's what a <i>friend</i> would say."<br/>
<br/>
His ears turn red. "Okay. So who you got your eye on? Who you gonna ask out?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." You stretch out on your side. "That's one reason I wanna talk about it. Who do you think I should ask? I mean—" You shrug. "Who'd be worth asking?"<br/>
<br/>
"<i>Anyone</i> would be worth asking. If you don't mind the answers you might get back."<br/>
<br/>
You feel your face flushing again. "So who'd give me an answer I'd like?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb sighs, says, "I don't know, man," and starts to put his stuff away.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll tell you someone <i>you</i> could ask out," you say, and you grin privately as your friend freezes. "Sure, I'll tell you someone <i>you</i> could ask, if you tell me someone <i>I</i> could ask out."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's eyes narrow. "With a happy reply?"<br/>
<br/>
"A happy reply."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb's expression has grown very tight, and his lips hardly move when he says, "Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Cassie Harper." <i>Chatterbox Cassie,</i> you don't add. A short redhead who's always in danger of swallowing flies because her mouth is always open. She's cute, you suppose, but all her talking makes your ears ache.<br/>
<br/>
"You serious?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. You know she had a thing going with Carson at the start of the year."<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't know that, but what's it got to do with me?"<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos it's Ioeger, dumbass, and you and him are, like, variations on a theme." <i>Tall, gangly, brainy, and kind of funny looking.</i> "If she went for someone like Carson, why wouldn't she go for someone like you? Now it's your turn. Who for me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Gimme a minute," he stammers. "You really kind of threw me for a ... uh ... Cassie?" His eyes bulge slightly.<br/>
<br/>
You grin. "You like her?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. Not especially. Never really thought of her as, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"You wanted me to name a cheerleader? Eva or Jessica, maybe? Gloria Rea?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! I mean— Yeah!" He jumps as the bell rings. "I don't know, Will!"<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, give me a name."<br/>
<br/>
"Cassie Harper," he says as he gathers up his trash. "You can have her."<br/>
<br/>
"Another name, man!"<br/>
<br/>
"Then one of those girls Cassie hangs out with!"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you. You know, I put some actual thought into what I said, about you and Cassie." It's a lie, of course—you more or less invented it up off the top of your head. "Least you can do is put some thought in for me!"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright! This afternoon. After school. Tonight. Look, I hafta get to class—"<br/>
<br/>
"You have a study hall."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I gotta get to study hall. I'll talk to you later," he says over his shoulder as he scuttles away.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Like bullshit you will,</i> you think at his retreating back.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Chelsea puts her hands on her hips and glowers at you. "So how long's it gonna be before you get the thing done so we can test it?" she demands.<br/>
<br/>
It's a little before five, and you really should be heading home. But she summoned you up here to the gym loft for a conference after the basketball team was done practicing. You want the extra time to think things through, and that's why you lied to her last night about not having any masks done when she texted you about it.<br/>
<br/>
"A couple of days, I think," you reply. "It takes a long time to polish one of those things up, you know."<br/>
<br/>
She snorts. "No, I don't know, Will. But <i>you</i> know, the sooner you get the thing done, the sooner you can start finding out why Lisa—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, now that's something I've been thinking about that," you say, and ignore her blink of surprise at being interrupted. "I've decided to give up on that. On Lisa, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
Now she looks like she's been slapped. "But you said—!"<br/>
<br/>
"I know what I said. But then I got to thinking, and it's, like—" You lean casually against a wooden crate. "Why go through all that trouble to get a girl who I already know doesn't want me? I can just get another girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes narrow. "You can?" Her tone is ugly and skeptical—like a challenge.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. You've got a boyfriend, right?" Your lip curls into a smile. "That mask you put on Gordon makes him do what you want." You shrug. "I can use a mask to get me a girlfriend like that."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea turns very pale. You wonder why. Is it because you're rebelling against her plan? Or is it because she is actually horrified by the idea of making a kind of sex slave?<br/>
<br/>
But she masters herself. "Okay, like who?" she asks. "You know Yumi could be—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want Yumi. I don't think I want anyone on the cheerleader squad. Because that wouldn't be believable. Would it?" You tilt your chin at her.<br/>
<br/>
You'd love it if she squealed something like, <i>Any of us would love to go out with you,</i> but you don't expect her to, and she doesn't.<br/>
<br/>
"That's why you should get inside Yumi's head," she retorts. "Or Lin's. Someone who <i>knows</i> you, Will," she says in a more simpering tone. "Someone who can tell you what kind of a girl would be good for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Meh. Too much work."<br/>
<br/>
She flushes. "Then just cut to the freaking chase already," she spits. "Just turn yourself into a guy who's already got a girlfriend!"</span></div></div>


path: 113122112122
author_id: seuzz
title: Set a Matchmaker to Find a Matchmaker
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Turn yourself into another guy? As if!</i> "I still want to be myself," you tell Chelsea. "I want to be me <i>but with a girlfriend.</i>" Chelsea snorts, and you cut yourself off before you can say something really sharp. "So who likes to play matchmaker?" you ask. "Who could help me find a believable girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea folds her arms and turns around with another snort. You glare at her back as she taps her foot.<br/>
<br/>
"Your friends would be the ones to tell you that," she says over her shoulder. "That's why Yumi and Lin are the ones you need to get your head inside. I'm really trying to help you out, Will!" she exclaims as she turns around to face you again. "I don't know why you're fighting me on this!" Her expression clouds over. "Is it because you don't want to, you know—" She wave her hand over her face. "Put on a mask of a girl? You think it would make you, like, less of a man?"<br/>
<br/>
"No!" <i>Yes? Maybe?</i> You hate the blush that you feel creeping over your face. "I don't mind— I mean, if that's what it takes."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyebrows go up. "You don't mind losing your cock?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'd pick up a pussy to play with!" you retort before you can stop yourself. "And a couple of boobs!" You feel your face burning. "I wouldn't mind that!"<br/>
<br/>
You'd expect Chelsea to recoil at your vulgarity, but her expression doesn't change.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's wrong with Yumi or Lin?" she says. "They've got some really nice, uh, boobs. I'm sure the rest of their plumbing is up to scratch too."<br/>
<br/>
<i>What's wrong is that I don't want to play your game for you.</i> But you can't say that, so instead you say, "I don't think they like me. I don't think they—"<br/>
<br/>
Your voice catches as you realize that you half-believe what you're saying. <i>I don't think they like me that much, and I don't want to see what they see when they look at me.</i><br/>
<br/>
"I don't think they really respect me," is what you say out loud, "so why should I trust what they think?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea surprises you with a sympathetic gasp. "Oh, Will!" she squeaks. "Are they really like that with you?"<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. "Well, they're nice enough, I guess. I just get the impression—"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, no wonder you don't want to put yourself through something like that! You should have just told me!" She smiles very sweetly, yet somehow it makes you shiver. <br/>
<br/>
"Just forget about what I was saying," she continues. "Give me a day or two to think about what we can do to help you instead. You want a girl who can help you figure out a girlfriend for you, still?"<br/>
<br/>
You nod.<br/>
<br/>
"Who else are you friends with? Girls, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. You felt like you were totally in control earlier in the conversation. Now you can hardly keep your knees from shaking.<br/>
<br/>
"What about Eva and Jessica, are they bitches with you too? Never mind," she says before you can protest. "Send me a copy of your class schedule and a list of girls you hang out with."<br/>
<br/>
Without waiting for an answer, she pushes you toward the door. "Don't worry, Will, leave everything to me. I'll fix things up for you." She titters. "I like fixing things."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yeah, like the way you got me to fix Gordon,</i> you think as she pushes you out of the gym loft and shuts the door in your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So Chelsea has given you some homework. It ought to be more fun than the real homework you've got, but it makes you wince to think about how few girls you actually talk to, so you put off doing it. <i>got homewrok tdo,</i> you tell Chelsea when she texts you to ask where the list is. <i>sooner u get get me names sooner u get her,</i> she texts back. <i>ssoner u get masks done too,</i> she adds.<br/>
<br/>
But it's not until shortly before ten o'clock that you get a list done. You thought about it while carving runes into some more of those mind-copying metal strips.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, your class schedule was easy enough to compile. It was also easy to add names like "Jenny Ashton" and "Cassie Harper" to it, because you do talk to them.<br/>
<br/>
But what do you do with a name like "Kelsey Blankenship?"<br/>
<br/>
She's the queen bee of the AP set, and until the start of the school year she was also on the cheerleader squad. (You haven't heard her or Chelsea talking about each other, but you'd bet they hate each other.) She's a rich snob—her daddy owns the biggest car dealerships in town—who when she deigns to notice you can't keep an expression of deep loathing off her face—but technically she has spoken to you. You'd like to keep out of her head for the same reason you'd like to keep out of Yumi's, because Yumi is at least a friend and probably can see <i>some</i> positive qualities in you. You're sure that Kelsey can't.<br/>
<br/>
At the same time ... <br/>
<br/>
If Chelsea suggested that you get inside the head of Kelsey Blankenship by making a mask of her and taking her place ... Well, there's a certain grotty pleasure in imagining yourself dressed up as her and queening it about the school as her and going home and jamming her fingers far up her cunny as her.<br/>
<br/>
But if you put her name down you'd have to put Brooke Galloway's name down too, and although Brooke is attractive enough (albeit in a skinny scared rabbit kind of way) she is very much under Kelsey's thumb, and it would be a lot less pleasant being close to Kelsey than it would to be Kelsey herself.<br/>
<br/>
Eventually you realize that either you're going to have to put down every possible name or no names at all, because if you spend your time agonizing over the list you won't get it done before it's time to graduate. So along about ten you send Chelsea your schedule and a much longer list of names than you've any real right to send. <i>thx,</i> you append at the end of the text before you can stop yourself.<br/>
<br/>
You don't remember your dreams the next morning on waking, but you've got a most raging case of wood.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's no acknowledgement from Chelsea the next morning when you wake, but on reaching school you find that she's sent a messenger. Gordon is hulking it up at the entrance to the school parking lot, and you watch nervously in your rearview mirror as he follows you to where you park. You roll down the window as he walks up, but don't you get out.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea wants to know when the fuck you're gonna be done with those masks," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm working on them."<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea wants to know how long it would take to make two more."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean from scratch?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't mean anything, fucker," he growls. "Ask Chelsea what <i>she</i> means. Better yet, just tell me how fucking long it'll take to make two more."<br/>
<br/>
"End of the week," you squeak. "But I need supplies, and I don't have money."<br/>
<br/>
"Better explain that to her, then," he says. He puts his arm through the window and grabs you by the back of the neck. "Need help getting your ass into school?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can manage!" You slap at him; it's like slapping at a sturdy oak. "Don't you have basketball practice now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but Chelsea told me to talk to you before school, and now I'm forty fucking minutes late to it. So I got nothing better to do than to walk you to class."<br/>
<br/>
"Gee, Gordon, people might think we're going together."<br/>
<br/>
He socks you in the face. It's only a glancing blow, without much force behind it. But it leaves your head ringing, and loosens the molars on the left side of your jaw.<br/>
<br/>
At least your gibe sends him trudging toward the school without you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You go in terror the rest of the day that Chelsea will send Gordon around to collect you, and by the end of sixth your nerves are so ragged that you leave campus early, skipping a study hall and your last-period Astronomy class. <i>dentist aptt,</i> you text Chelsea when she texts you at a little after four. She tells you to meet her up at the school at eight.<br/>
<br/>
"How's your mouth?" are the first words she says to you, and at first you think she must be talking about the blow that Gordon gave you. "Just a checkup," you mumble back when you remember that "dentist" excuse you gave her earlier. You hand over the two polished masks: your run-in with Gordon has convinced you not to hold anything back.<br/>
<br/>
"So you can get two more done by the end of the week?" Chelsea asks, and from her purse she takes a billfold. "Here's some cash for supplies." <br/>
<br/>
"What do we need more masks for?"<br/>
<br/>
"For testing that new goop out on. We'll use these masks here and that goop. If it works, then we'll use the two new masks to get you a girl."<br/>
<br/>
"Who are you going to try the stuff out on?"<br/>
<br/>
She just waves her hand. "I think Deanna Showalter would be best for you," she says. "Although there's a girl in the junior class who could work too."</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121222
author_id: seuzz
title: The Girl from Left Field
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Who are you talking about?" you ask Chelsea. "What junior girl?"<br/>
<br/>
"Alexis Lachance," she says. "You had her for sociology last year." She takes out her cell phone and starts scrolling.<br/>
<br/>
"How did you know that? Who is she, how do you know her?" <i>Why her?</i> is the question you should be asking, but your tongue can't lay itself on those words.<br/>
<br/>
"Gee, aren't you full of questions," Chelsea titters. "This is her," she says, and turns the phone toward you. "What do you think?" She grins. "Is she cute?"<br/>
<br/>
You almost swallow your tongue. <i>She's a clone of Chelsea herself!</i><br/>
<br/>
Well, not quite. Like Chelsea, she's a blonde and has a wide, bright smile. It's hard to tell, but she looks petite. But her hair is straight, not softly curled like Chelsea's, and she's got it pulled back in a ponytail with dagger-like bangs dangling at her temples. She's dressed very casually in a white t-shirt under a tan-colored windbreaker. She is very slender, too, and there's something fragile about her appearance, as though she's made of brittle china. Whereas Chelsea (especially in her thighs) looks like she's built for bouncing and running and dancing.<br/>
<br/>
"Are you suggesting her for a—" The word catches in your throat. "A girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, silly. Well, not unless you like her looks. She'd help you <i>find</i> a girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"But I don't know her. She doesn't know me."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea gives you a look.<br/>
<br/>
"You know yourself, right?" she says. "So you put yourself inside her, and then you use your brain and her brain to figure out who'd be a match for you. It would work like that, wouldn't it?" She loses a little of her I'm-queen-of-the-cheerleading-squad-so-I-know-best assurance. "I mean, if you're looking for a girl to give you her <i>opinion—</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I get it," you hurriedly say. "But she's a junior."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, sure. And you could date a junior. What's wrong with that? I mean, <i>I'd</i> never date one"—she rolls her eyes— "and besides, I'm dating Gordon. But cast your net a little wider, Will." She shows you her dimples. "Girls loving dating older guys. You'd have a lot more choices, if you're looking for someone who's, like you say, <i>plausible."</i><br/>
<br/>
That settles it for you. "How do I get a mask on her?" you ask as you stare, boggle-eyed, at the picture of Alexis Lachance.<br/>
<br/>
"Leave that to me." Chelsea takes her phone back. "You just get those masks done. We need two of them, right? One to copy her face for you to wear, and one to copy your face for her to wear. Isn't that the way it works?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Um. And these masks I just finished for you?"<br/>
<br/>
"For us to test the stuff," she says with exaggerated patience. "Jeez, you don't want to screw things up with Alexis, do you?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Chelsea's really serious about using those masks to test the new goop on, and she sends you home to fetch the ingredients. She insists on making up two batches of the stuff, one using her hair. "You might not be here when we try it out," she says. "And we wanna be sure the person obeys me if you're not around."<br/>
<br/>
By ten o'clock, though, you're home again, with a sensation of butterflies in your stomach. Chelsea is going to help you get a new identity, as a girl you don't know and barely know anything about. With twitching fingers you go online to find out everything you can about "Alexis Lachance" on social media.<br/>
<br/>
And what a presence she's got! Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, Tumblr, x2z ... All of them cross-linked and cross-referenced so that you only have to stick a little toe into one before you're sucked into the rest. Selfies lead to tweets which lead to Tumblr posts which lead to Pinterest pages which lead to x2z memes and chats. It almost frightens you. <i>Are you going to have to keep up with all this stuff once you're ... this girl?</i><br/>
<br/>
Hardly any of it makes any sense, for the images mostly stand by themselves, and the comments sound like private jokes and references. But a few motifs gradually resolve themselves.<br/>
<br/>
First, there are a lot sketches. Furry, doe-eyed animals (rabbits and mice and deer, mostly) drawn in a cross of the Disney and anime styles; big-eyed girls in samurai costumes, brandishing katanas; shirtless, mop-haired boys with big hands and big feet. The style looks amateurish to your eye, but it suggests talent. There are no credits or links, and the commonality of style further suggests they're done by a single artist; and before long you're convinced the uncredited artist must be Alexis herself.<br/>
<br/>
Second is a fixation on food, particularly of the gluten-free, GMO-free, cruelty-free variety. These include tweeted links to articles about the health benefits of such and denunciations of factory farming; recipes; and lots and lots of snapshots of meals. Alexis is very slender; you hope the girl is just a nut and hasn't got an eating disorder.<br/>
<br/>
Third is a fervent, almost fanatical support in the Westside JV sport teams, particularly the boys' basketball and football squads. She seems particularly interested in a certain half-dozen guys, who show up not only in uniform and on the court or field, but inside the school in smiling selfies with Alexis and some other girls. A couple of the guys look familiar. You can't give their names, but you know you've had them in classes.<br/>
<br/>
And last—which you only notice because it puts you in mind of Chelsea, and makes you wonder if she has an ulterior interest in seeing you take on the role of Alexis Lachance—is the recurrent presence of Michelle Estrich in a lot of the pictures. Michelle is a cheerleader, but from everything you have heard (which is admittedly little), she is the odd girl out on the squad, the one with no friends, the one who got onto the squad almost on accident and has never made herself at home there. But she seems to be at home with Alexis and her friends, for she appears in many of the pictures, leaning in with a smile and draping her arm around their shoulders.<br/>
<br/>
So all in all, Alexis Lachance seems like your complete opposite. Maybe that's why you find yourself excited at the prospect of trying out her life.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Thursday night.</i> Immediately after school you went shopping, then went to the community center; a few hours later, you left it with four metal strips glued into four masks. <i>Two for Chelsea, like she asked, and two for me.</i><br/>
<br/>
Now you're up at the high school.<br/>
<br/>
"So what have we got?" Chelsea asks once she's got the fuck room door closed. In answer, you present her with a mask. "And this'll copy everything?" she says as she turns over and over in her hands. "Then we put that stuff inside the mask, and put it back on her, and she'll be like Gordon?" She looks up at you. "She'll have to do what I tell her?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think so," you reply, and ignore her use of the feminine pronoun. But the thought <i>It's gotta be Yumi, or Lin, or Cindy,</i> can't help forming in your head. "Or," you continue, even as you try to ignore the ramifications of what Chelsea is about to do, "you can put this mask on her." You take out the second mask. "You can turn her into yourself and order around a copy of yourself."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's eyebrows scrunch together, and you watch as she tries to work through what you've just suggested.<br/>
<br/>
"Like this," you prompt her. You continue even after her phone has chimed and she has taken it out to study the text. "We copy, uh, <i>her</i> into one mask, and we copy you into the other. Then we put that goopy stuff into your mask and put it onto her. That turns her into a copy of you that you can order around. Then you can put on her mask and pretend to be her. Uh, if that's what you want."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I'm not sure I want that," Chelsea says with brisk decision. "But thanks for the extra mask anyway. Maybe I can do something with it." She smiles at you. "We'll talk about Alexis later. You can go home now."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you want my help, make sure you do it right?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
She smiles again. "I think I got it. And Gordon can help me if I run into trouble."<br/>
<br/>
You stare at her, but she only returns an impudent smile.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yeah,</i> you think as you drive home. <i>It's gotta be Yumi or Lin.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
 So the next day, as you're at your locker, you jump when someone touches your shoulder, and you jump again when you turn to find Yumi Saito smiling up into your face.<br/>
<br/>
There's nothing wrong with Yumi. She's adorable, in fact. She's a tiny little Japanese girl with dark, bobbed hair and (more often than not) a determined glint in her eye. She is also more than a little bit of a firecracker, and you try to stay on her good side. She is a member of the cheerleading squad, and mostly you know her only through Jenny Ashton, who you have known since elementary school.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Will," Yumi says. "I hear you're in the market for a girlfriend." A deep dimple shows in one of her cheeks.<br/>
<br/>
You get a very tight feeling in your chest, and you feel your eyes narrow. "Yeah? Who told you that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, is it true?"<br/>
<br/>
You jerk your shoulders. "I'm always interested. I mean, who isn't?"<br/>
<br/>
"Charles Hartlein, for one," Yumi retorts. Charles is the very "out" president of the drama club. "Yeah, so is there anyone in particular you're interested in?"<br/>
<br/>
"Um." You lick your lips, and shrug.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, there's a party tonight you should come to. There'll be some girls you could meet. Girls from Westside, girls from Eastman. I can introduce you around."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks," you stammer, and return Yumi's bright smile with a sickly one of your own.</span></div></div>


path: 11312211212221
author_id: seuzz
title: The Party Crasher
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>That's all you say to Yumi, for running through the back of your mind is the chirpy text you found on your iPhone this morning, from Chelsea: <i>wow it worked great!!! thx so much talk later!!</i> <br/>
<br/>
So as Yumi walks away, a ripple of gooseflesh runs up your spine. Was that really Yumi you just talked to? Or was it just a golem, now under Chelsea's control, that she sent to talk to you? Or was it really ... <i>Chelsea herself in disguise?</i> <br/>
<br/>
You shiver hard, and survey the surging crowd with a gimlet eye. <br/>
<br/>
<i>Fakes. Any of them could be a fake.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't see Chelsea that day, so when classes let out you send her a text: <i>plan for today?</i> Though if that was Chelsea you talked to this morning, and not Yumi, then maybe her plan is to get you to that party she mentioned. Either way, you only get a gnomic reply,: <i>working onit.</i> You drive home in a thoughtful mood, and after unloading your book bag you sit at your desk and start to carve runes into one of the half-dozen new brain-copier you made yesterday. (Hey, it's something to do, even if you've got no immediate plans for it.)<br/>
<br/>
But you're not at work long before you pull out your cell phone and open it to Alexis's Instagram page, propping it up so you can study the screen as you work. Alexis has uploaded a dozen new photos since you last checked, including several selfies. You settle on one of the selfies, and your eye flicks between it and the metal strip.<br/>
<br/>
Is Alexis Lachance beautiful, or even just pretty? Is she cute? You're undecided, even after you magnify the image. You know that you want to call her beautiful. Her features are regular, her complexion clear, her smile wide and bright and very white. You like the way her blonde hair is casually pulled back into a ponytail even as thick strands dangle loosely around her face, as though she doesn't have to work at it to make her hair look good.<br/>
<br/>
But there is still something ... off ... about her.<br/>
<br/>
The trouble is in her eyes, you decide after awhile. There's a hollowness there, a brittleness behind them and inside her smile. You're reminded again of a china doll—a thing that is light and empty and fragile, even when painted most beautifully.<br/>
<br/>
Still, Alexis is very slim and very graceful. She has a bosom, too, though it is small. You put your hand to your own chest and close your eyes and imagine it enclosing a breast. You imagine long hair trailing down the back of your neck, and when you smile you imagine it's the smooth, even smile of Alexis Lachance and not the tangled-in-his-teeth grin of Will Prescott. <i>I'm Alexis Lachance,</i> you tell yourself, <i>and I'm a junior at Westside High. I'm friends with—</i><br/>
<br/>
You open your eyes to check her account for some names, but you're interrupted by a text from Chelsea: <i>my place now.</i><br/>
<br/>
For a moment you stare at it. Then you realize what it must mean. You knock half the things off your desk as you bolt to your feet.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Chelsea is standing on the stairs when her disheveled brother lets you in. Impatiently, she beckons you up.<br/>
<br/>
"It's about time," she fumes as she leads you up the hall. "I was running out of excuses to keep her here."<br/>
<br/>
"You live on the other side of town from me," you retort. You also had to stop by the old elementary school.<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever." She grasps a doorknob and catches her breath. Then, with a toss of her head, she pushes the door open.<br/>
<br/>
"So, I'm back," she grandly declares as she enters the room beyond. "Oh, and this is—"<br/>
<br/>
You shove her aside and lunge at the girl by the bed. Alexis Lachance only has time to widen her eyes in surprise before you're on her. A mask is already in your hand, and you paste her hard in the face with it.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea squeals. "What did you do that for?"<br/>
<br/>
"This is her, isn't it?" you ask. "It looks like her." A cold hand seems to close about your heart. "Did I fuck up?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," Chelsea says, and hurries up. She peers down at the girl, who has collapsed on the bed. "God, I hope you didn't hurt her! You didn't give me any time to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Listen, I'm on a schedule! It's dinnertime, and my mom gave me a really dirty look as I ran out the door." You glance around as you yank the second mask from your book bag. "Is there anyplace private where I can put this thing on?"<br/>
<br/>
"What is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's a blank mask. To copy myself into." You scowl into Chelsea's bewildered face. "I thought you know how this works! I need to copy myself into it. Then I need you to seal it. Is that special goop here? The stuff we made with my hair?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea turns pale—whether from fear, anger or confusion, you don't know—and nods.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, after the mask finishes copying me, you'll have to seal it up with that goop."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean like I did last night?" She scowls. "I think I know what to do, Will."<br/>
<br/>
<i>You could've fooled me,</i> you almost say. "Okay. After you get it sealed and gooped up, put it on Alexis. It'll turn her into me and you can send her home. Tell her— Uh, <i>him—</i>" You are momentarily overwhelmed as you try to sort through everything that has to be done. "Tell the new me to get his ass home for supper. Also, he should text my mom to tell her that I'm, uh, <i>he's</i> on his way."<br/>
<br/>
"I think I can handle it," Chelsea says. She spins you around and points you toward a door. "You can take your clothes off in there before you put the mask on, that way I don't have to pull them off you. But drape a towel over yourself, okay? If I wanna look at your privates I'll take a peek, but probably I won't."<br/>
<br/>
On the other side of the bathroom is a bathroom. It's very pink—or at least that's the impression you get—but you don't dawdle to look it over. You kick off your shoes, peel off your socks, yank off your shirt, and shove off your jeans. <i>I'm getting naked in Chelsea Cooper's private bathroom,</i> you think to yourself, and the shiver that runs through you is a compound of excitement and cold. You grab a hand towel as you drop to the floor, and drape it over your crotch as you lay back. You drop the mask onto your face.<br/>
<br/>
Your limbs freeze, and for one long, terrifying moment you feel yourself paralyzed all over. Then the floor seems to open and swallow you up.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
A chill in your back is the first thing you notice when you are again capable of noticing anything. A bone-deep cold runs from your shoulder blades down to your ass, and with a hard shiver you roll over into a fetal position. You grapple for a blanket, and find nothing.<br/>
<br/>
Your head is full of angry, furry bees as you sit up and squint against the light. You're in a bathroom. There's a fuzzy pink ... thing ... covering the toilet lid, and you blink up stupidly at a wall that's the color of Pepto-Bismol. What kind of nightmare is this?<br/>
<br/>
Then, with a groan, you remember. You're in Chelsea Cooper's bathroom. You rub your face, for you feel like you've woken from a very deep sleep. You suppose that's exactly what happened. How long were you out for? You still have that hand towel over your crotch, but your clothes are gone, so Chelsea must have come in and gotten them. There are no noises from the other side of the door.<br/>
<br/>
And when you look down you see that you still have that patchy hair in the middle of your flat, bony chest. You grimace and stand up. Yes, that's your face in the mirror.<br/>
<br/>
You pull the door open a crack while hiding behind it. Chelsea is on her bed with her cell phone. "Hey," you hiss at her. "Hey!"<br/>
<br/>
She looks up, and a half-smile rides up one side of her face. "There you are," she says. "Took you long enough, on both sides of the trip."<br/>
<br/>
"What trip?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I just mean the copying thing," she says as she bounces off the bed. "I had time to go downstairs and talk to my mom before the silly thing came out of you. Then it took you, like—" She glances at her phone. "Well, long enough for you to wake up again. How do you feel?"<br/>
<br/>
"I feel like I'm wondering what's going on. Where's, uh—?"<br/>
<br/>
"The other you?" She makes a face. "Gone. I had to push him out the door. He was all, like, 'The fuck?' and giving me dirty looks, and he <i>wouldn't</i> cover up his private parts. You don't brag about them, do you? I mean," she continues as you freeze at the question, "it's not like you've got anything to be ashamed of, but it's just so crude."<br/>
<br/>
She says some more stuff after that, but you're too much in awe of her saying you've got nothing to be ashamed of dick-wise to respond. You don't start paying attention again until she hands you a mask.<br/>
<br/>
"So here's the mask of Alexis," she says. "I assume it'll work like the other ones."<br/>
<br/>
Your fingers close around the mask. It is very cool to the touch. You turn it over, and a name blazes out: ALEXIS KRYSTAL LACHANCE.<br/>
<br/>
The fantasy you had up in your bedroom comes flooding back. You're going to turn yourself into this girl. You will have her body, and everything else she's got. <i>You</i> will be <i>her.</i><br/>
<br/>
You look up into the silence. Chelsea dimples back at you. "Better get on it," she says. "Alexis told me she's got plans for tonight." She titters.<br/>
<br/>
You gulp, and close the bathroom door.</span></div></div>


path: 113122112122211
author_id: seuzz
title: Becoming Alexis
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Alexis Krystal Lachance. There's a copy of that girl inside this mask you're holding. When you put it on, you'll turn yourself into a copy of her. Then you'll be able to take her place.<br/>
<br/>
What will it be like? Will it feel like you're wearing an extra layer of skin over your own? Will it itch? Supposedly, the metal band in the mask will give you her memories. What will <i>that</i> be like? Will you be able to tell which memories are yours and which ones are hers?<br/>
<br/>
Will you forget who you are, and start to think that you <i>really are</i> Alexis Lachance? <br/>
<br/>
Well, Chelsea will probably keep <i>that</i> from happening.<br/>
<br/>
A lump rises in your throat as you squat inside the bathtub, and it pulses like a second heart. You lift the mask over your face and set it on yourself.<br/>
<br/>
Drowsiness overwhelms you, encasing your limbs like a suit of lead. But is it drowsiness, or is it the mask? Is it spreading over you and turning you into ... ?<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Again, you're woken by the cold, and you hug yourself as you roll onto your side. You bang your head on something hard, and grunt.<br/>
<br/>
But it's like the blow has jarred something loose in your head. You scramble up with your heart thumping.<br/>
<br/>
You're sitting up inside a cold bathtub. Your skinny legs don't even reach the end of it.<br/>
<br/>
<i>What happened to my legs?</i> you think numbly as you gape at them. <i>Those aren't my legs! They're too short!</i><br/>
<br/>
But a calmer voice says, <i>Of course they're your legs. Dur. You see them every day.</i><br/>
<br/>
A cold, numb spot forms around your heart and spreads out through the rest of your body. A light sweat pops out all over you. You look down.<br/>
<br/>
Boobs are dangling from your chest.<br/>
<br/>
They're small, but firm and taut. They're shaped like pears, and your nipples are hard from the cold. As you stare at them, they harden further, and prickle lightly. You reach up, hesitate, then touch one with a fearful fingertip.<br/>
<br/>
Nothing explodes. Only you shiver hard. <i>I have boobs!<br/>
<br/>
Of course you do,</i> that other, calmer voice snorts.<br/>
<br/>
On trembling legs you scramble up.<br/>
<br/>
You put out a slim arm and hand—wow, your fingers are small, with polished nails at the end—and slide back the shower curtain. You squint against the light, then do a double take at the figure in the mirror behind the vanity.<br/>
<br/>
It's Alexis Lachance.<br/>
<br/>
You recognize the face, of course, but in a double-vision kind of way. It's a face that Alexis sees every morning and every evening and several times a day in between, as she's prepping for school, prepping for bed, or primping between times. A head that seems just a little too large for the slight body and the slender neck. The bosom with its small, torpedo-shaped breasts. The inward sloping curve of the stomach and the narrow bowl of the hips. The—<br/>
<br/>
You boggle. Alexis boggles a little with you. She doesn't often stare straight at the dark tongue of fur now licking your genitals. In something almost like a trance you take it between your fingers and rub it, and brush at the tender spot beneath it.<br/>
<br/>
Your complexion is a little paler when you look back up into the mirror, and your mouth is hanging open.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Ugh. My hair,</i> you think. <i>My flat, bodiless hair.</i><br/>
<br/>
It's just one of the things about herself that bothers Alexis—you!—but it's the one she—you!—sees all the time in the mirror. How horribly thin and bodiless it is, and horrible the way it lays very flat! It takes a stylist—Robert (pronounced "Ro-<i>bair</i>") at La Audace—to style it so that it flatters her—your!—face without embarrassing itself. Those blade-like bangs that you noticed before, that now hang so casually from your temples and over your ears, as though they've accidentally and momentarily escaped the hair tie? Totally intentional, and carefully styled into place each morning. But hanging limp and loose like this? Ugh! You glance around for a brush and comb and hair tie. You had a scrunchie when you arrived!<br/>
<br/>
That's when you notice the clothes folded up neatly on the corner of the vanity. Chelsea must have brought them in while you were unconscious. You paw through them until you find the white terrycloth hair scrunchie you came in with. You then spend a good minute combing your hair into shape, brushing it over to the side and pulling it back into a ponytail before carefully tugging loose and arranging those few intentional strands.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Chelsea Cooper.</i> You think about <i>her</i> as you work. Now at least you know why she invited you—Alexis Lachance!—out to  her place. You—Alexis!—have never talked to Chelsea before, and Michelle has nothing but horror stories about her. But when the captain of the cheerleader squad invites you out to her house for a little talk, you don't say no, and you don't leave, either, when it turns out she's got nothing but a lot of silly questions and inane prattle for you. And when that guy came jumping in—<br/>
<br/>
You pause in mid-brushstroke. Alexis didn't get a good look at you when you burst into the bedroom with Chelsea, and the only impression you have through her eyes is of a scarecrow-like guy in baggy pants and a floppy t-shirt charging in with a crazed grin on his face.<br/>
<br/>
And that's the guy you're supposed to find a girlfriend for? You shiver.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Well, time enough for that later.</i> Mostly you agreed to meet Chelsea because you were out and about anyway, picking up food for the little party you're throwing tonight, and you still have that to do. The sound of your ringtone in the bedroom beyond—why didn't Chelsea bring your phone in here with the rest of your stuff? Is she snooping on it?—reminds you of your responsibilities.<br/>
<br/>
You slip on panties and a bra, and only after you've got your breasts tucked into the cups do you realize how naturally, even thoughtlessly, you handled that garment. You pull on jeans and socks and tennis shoes, button yourself into the crisp white blouse, and wrap the tan windbreaker about yourself. You tug at a few stray locks of blonde hair, settle yourself into the clothes, and smile at your reflection.<br/>
<br/>
Fear shows behind your eyes, and you have a terrible case of butterflies in your stomach.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Calm the fuck down,</i> you tell yourself. <i>Remember your—</i><br/>
<br/>
Oh God. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes widen.<br/>
<br/>
<i>No wonder Alexis looks so fragile.</i><br/>
<br/>
You gulp, but give yourself that brave little talk she's so used to giving herself. With your chin held high, you twist open the bathroom door and step out.<br/>
<br/>
But your fingers can't help twitching and trembling a little.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea—looking much taller than the last time you saw her; her eyes are now on a level with yours—looks up. She breaks out in a wide smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God!" she squeals. "Will?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." You gulp again, and feel a nervous rictus spread across your face.<br/>
<br/>
"You look just like her!"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's eyes, shining with obvious admiration, slide up and down your frame. She walks around you, and your knees tremble under her inspection. A hard shiver shakes you all over, and instinctively you cover your nose and mouth with your hands, breathing in deep, warm draughts of air through your fingers.<br/>
<br/>
"Is it weird?" Chelsea asks. "I mean, is it like you've got on another skin?"<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head. "It feels totally normal," you say. "Like, this is me and this is my skin and these are my ... fingers." You knead them and rub their tips. They do feel exactly like they're your hands, not like gloves.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea beams, then tugs a little at your clothes, straightening them out.<br/>
<br/>
"How about, like, what you remember and stuff?" she asks. "Do you think you can imitate her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. It's all, just, like—" You fumble with your hands.<br/>
<br/>
Well, what is it like, having Alexis's mind and memories inside yours? It's like having that double vision. Like a permanent sense of deja vu. The world looks one way. But at the same time it also looks a very different way.<br/>
<br/>
Like with Chelsea here. With one set of eyes, she is your partner, a girl who summoned you out to help her with her stupid boyfriend and who has been goading you into making masks and using them to help yourself (and her). At the same time you see her simply as the head cheerleader, a distant senior you have nothing to do with, and you find it very strange to be here, with her, talking in her bedroom. It gives you the shakes.<br/>
<br/>
You realize that Alexis had the shakes—just under better control—when she was up here with Chelsea before your arrival.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," you finally say when you notice Chelsea giving you a quizzical look. "I just have them. I can't tell you what it's like."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not going to get mixed up, are you?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think so."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, if you want to hang out here tonight and talk—"<br/>
<br/>
"No," you say, and surprise yourself a little with the firmness of it. "I've got plans. Alexis has plans, I mean. In fact, I have to get going." You look around, and spot your—<br/>
<br/>
Wow. Yes. <i>Your purse and phone.</i> They're on Chelsea's desk.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen, I'll talk to you tomorrow," you tell Chelsea as you sweep them up. "After I've got settled in."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you sure, Will?" she asks. "Because you seem a little, um ... fragile."</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121222112
author_id: seuzz
title: Heartstrains
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Fragile.</i><br/>
<br/>
That's what Chelsea called you just before you drove off. Funny that she picked up on it so fast. <br/>
<br/>
At least she didn't call you "morbid," you reflect, and you grip the steering wheel as you think it. But Alexis is apparently pretty good at pushing <i>that thought</i> down to where it's not obvious on her face or in her eyes.<br/>
<br/>
The thought that she might fall over from a fatal heart attack at any moment.<br/>
<br/>
<i>It'll be alright,</i> her parents have assured her since she was old enough to understand, and she believes them. <i>We have to trust the doctors.</i> (But Alexis isn't sure she trusts <i>them.</i>) <i>They say you'll be okay. It's not a </i>bad<i> problem, and we can wait until you're older before we do something about it.</i><br/>
<br/>
The <i>problem</i> is a congenital heart defect: a hole in her heart that lets the blood from different chambers mix together. The defect is not so grievous that Alexis's heart is a ticking time bomb, and the doctors have warned that the risks of surgery likely outweigh the risks of leaving it untreated, at least until she is an adult.<br/>
<br/>
But Alexis is also a high-strung girl who tends to fixate on things, like the number of seconds that pass until a light turns green. (<i>Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen;</i> you're counting them out even now as you sit at the intersection of Twentieth and Boyle.) Even when she was a little girl people commented that she seemed nervous; later on, phrases like "high maintenance" tended to get stuck onto her. Maybe she's also a little OCD. So she can hardly fail to fixate on her heart condition.<br/>
<br/>
Even now you feel the tug of the familiar maelstrom. Thinking of your heart condition makes you nervous, which can't be good for your heart, which makes you even more nervous. But when Alexis does put it out of her mind, she gets excited and even a little shrill; and when she catches herself in these moods she yanks the reins back hard.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, "fragile" is a good word to describe a girl who fears she could shatter at any moment, and who spends most of her life inspecting herself all over for hairline cracks.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's instinct, not a plan, that leads you to call Erin Hale while you're at the Taco Bell drive-through window, waiting for the two dozen regular tacos, two dozen taco supremes, two dozen burritos and dozen chalupas you ordered. It's like your palm was itching and the phone was a salve. "Hey there, yeah," you chirp when Erin picks up, and the words just seem to form themselves. "I just got away from Chelsea! Oh my God, that girl can talk!"<br/>
<br/>
"So what did she want?" Erin squeals. "I was asking Michelle if she knew, but she was only, like—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit.</i> Too late you realize what you've let yourself in for by calling Erin. "Oh. My. God!" you pant. "She—!"<br/>
<br/>
Then your throat closes, for what can you say? Not the truth, obviously! So why did Chelsea Cooper want you to come out to her house to talk?<br/>
<br/>
But it's like your brain has seized up—a not uncommon feeling for Alexis to have—and nothing comes.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think I can tell you, you know?" you finally gasp out. "You'd have to swear, like, total secrecy! 'Cos she swore <i>me</i> to total secrecy."<br/>
<br/>
"Get out! What is it? Is it the squad?" You can practically picture Erin bouncing on her bed with excitement. "Did she want to talk to you about the squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, dammit, you dragged it out of me!" You laugh, almost hysterically, with relief, for Erin has invented the perfect answer. "I can't say anything, really, I can't! Because she swore me—! Anyway, it's not <i>news,</i> it's just something she, uh, wanted to ask me about?" You feel like you're about to faint from the stress of inventing plausible half-stories.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on! You can tell me! I swear, I <i>swear,</i> Alix, I won't tell anyone!"<br/>
<br/>
"Not even Sabrina?"<br/>
<br/>
"God! You wouldn't tell Sabrina, would you, Alix? If you didn't tell me?"<br/>
<br/>
"If I told one of you I'd have to tell you both!" You start taking bags from the clerk, and the stress of doing that while talking almost overwhelms you. "And then we'd have to tell Rebecca and Tanya, or one of you would have to, because—"<br/>
<br/>
"It's about them! Is it about them?" Erin shrieks. "Was she asking about them for the cheerleader squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can't tell you! I'm in the car and I'm about to head home!" You feel like you're about to start crying. "Just don't tell anyone anything! I don't want anyone getting anyone's hopes up!"<br/>
<br/>
"Hopes?" Erin shrieks. "Someone's got <i>hopes?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"I have to go, Erin! I was just killing time—" The car behind you honks, and your heart punches the back of your breastbone as you release the brake and slide forward toward the street.<br/>
<br/>
"You're going to tell me <i>something,</i> Alix Lachance! But wait, before you hang up! Julian and I are at the store. What do you want us to get for drinks?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever! I've got my own juice at home, whatever you guys want, I trust you. Just not with what I talked to Chelsea about!" You shut off the phone and throw it into the passenger seat. A car honks and you almost drive up onto the sidewalk with panic. Not until you're stopped at a light do you have the presence of mind just to tell yourself to relax.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Jesus,</i> you reflect as your heart tries punching it's way out of your chest. <i>Even without the heart defect, it's like Alexis is a heart attack waiting to happen.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But you're much calmer by the time you get to your new home. Erin has, more or less, made up a story that you can tell her, and you rehearse it in your head in the kitchen while loading the food onto platters and sliding it into the oven to keep warm until your guests start to arrive. <i>Chelsea wanted to ask me about some of the girls in the junior and sophomore classes, like who the good gymnastics girls are and who would be good on the cheerleading squad, because— Oh, but she swore me to total secrecy about </i>why<i> she wanted to know, and anyway I'm not sure she actually told me every—</i><br/>
<br/>
Mrs. Lachance—like her daughter a small, blonde woman—comes in. "What time are your friends going to start arriving?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Fifteen minutes? Maybe? I got caught at someone's house so I'm running late."<br/>
<br/>
She scrutinizes the food bags. "Are you going to have enough?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's only going to be, like, eight of us, Mom! I told you, it's only going to be a little thing like—!"<br/>
<br/>
You cut yourself off before you can cringe. <i>Like Kelsey Blankenship has for her friends!</i> It was Craig Wyatt who told Alexis about Kelsey's soirees, and since Alexis worships Kelsey from afar, she just had to emulate her. But without confessing that fact!<br/>
<br/>
"But Erin and Sabrina are bringing some more stuff," you continue. "Roman said he might bring some stuff too." Your heart starts to beat again at the thought of that dark-haired hunk Roman Robey and his killer smile.<br/>
<br/>
Mrs. Lachance sniffs at the tacos with disdain. "Maybe next time you could get something from Canopies. You know, they have a line of frozen gourmet Mexican food—"<br/>
<br/>
"Mom, this is what Roman and them wanted!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm just saying maybe next time you could get this for them, and for you—"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll think about it! Okay? I have to get changed!" Inwardly, you think, <i>Frozen? Are you serious, Mom? Really, what's the point of getting something gourmet if it's frozen? Even if it's from Canopies?</i><br/>
<br/>
Not that you'll be able to stomach anything from Taco Bell. You're relieved to dash upstairs and get away from the stench of the Mexican fast food. You've got your own brain still, and it loves Taco Bell. But apparently you've also got Alexis's palate and digestion, and both of them are quivering with horror at what you just slid into the oven.<br/>
<br/>
You also marvel at how intuitively you were able to act Alexis's part without even thinking about it. At least, you sure felt like you were in character!<br/>
<br/>
In your bedroom—which is done up in creams and lavenders—you quickly pull off your school clothes and change into fresh jeans and a pale, pink t-shirt. After fussing with your hair a little (even while telling yourself it doesn't matter; this is just a get-together amongst friends) you decide you need more than just a t-shirt. After trying on an old flannel shirt and then a denim work shirt, you don a baby blue pullover sweater that you feel has just the right touch of casual class. Like you're relaxed for the evening, but still looking good. You put in your two smallest earrings and wrap a couple of small, silver chains about your left wrist.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God!</i> you think as you study yourself in the mirror. <i>Is it too much? Are they going to think I'm too dressed up? What's Roman going to think? Oh God, what if he doesn't even notice? Would that be worse than if he did?</i><br/>
<br/>
You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. <i>Focus, Will! You're not this girl. You don't have to freak out like her when it's just you! Besides, it's bad for your—her—heart.</i><br/>
<br/>
Jesus, how big of a disaster would it be if you had Alexis's heart attack while pretending to be her?<br/>
<br/>
You take a deep breath, and you look much calmer when you look at yourself in the mirror again.<br/>
<br/>
Except for the eyes. You can't do anything about them. And when you smile, it looks very, very brittle.<br/>
<br/>
There's a rumble from outside, and when you look out into the driveway your heart starts hammering again. A black Ford pickup truck—bigger and manlier than Will Prescott would dare drive—is growling there. It gives one short roar, then shuts off. The doors open, and three tall guys clamber out.<br/>
<br/>
Justin Lovejoy. James Randolph. And from behind the wheel, Roman Robey.<br/>
<br/>
You groan. Maybe even worse than a heart attack: you'll have to deal with Alexis's crushes!</span></div></div>


path: 11312211212221121
author_id: seuzz
title: Alexis's Gang
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Alexis's family isn't rich—certainly not Kelsey Blankenship rich—but her father is an attorney and her mother is an interior decorator with clients all over the state, and they are certainly upper middle class.<br/>
<br/>
So to reach the front door you have to run down a long hallway, fly down some stairs, and dart through a sun room and a den. The bell rings long before you reach it.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, we get you out of the bathroom or something?" Roman joshes after you've wrenched the door open.<br/>
<br/>
"No! You weren't waiting long!" You slap him on his meaty chest and step aside with a blushing smile as he and his friends saunter in. Roman and Justin—juniors, like Alexis herself—grin widely at you as they step past. James, who is a sophomore, gives you a shyer smile. All three are on the JV basketball squad, and Justin is tall enough that he can rest his chin on the crown of Alexis's head—a little trick he likes to pull on her every once in a while.<br/>
<br/>
Roman balances a stack of board games on his shoulder. "You didn't say what you wanted to play, only you wanted to go retro. Where are we setting up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Game room, upstairs. <i>Twister?"</i> you exclaim when you see the name printed on the side of one of the boxes. It's held together with tape, so it must be a vintage version.<br/>
<br/>
"Someone might wanna play. Me, probably." Roman sniffs the air. "Do I smell tacos?"<br/>
<br/>
"Where's everyone else?" Justin asks. "We the first ones here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Erin and Julian were stopping at the store. I don't know where Sabrina and Alec are."<br/>
<br/>
"Bet I do." Roman waggles his eyebrows.<br/>
<br/>
"Who else is coming?" James says. Unlike the brunette Roman and Justin, his hair is a sun-drenched blonde. <br/>
<br/>
"Well, Sabrina and Alec, and Erin and Julian." You count the names off on your finger tips. "Michelle and Tanya and Rebecca. Jesse. Craig and Douglas. Where's Scott? Didn't he come with you?" That would be Scott McInerney, who is the fourth basketball player in the group.<br/>
<br/>
"I heard he has a cold. But he's coming with Rebecca."<br/>
<br/>
"He better stay away if he's sick," Justin says. "If we're gonna be rubbing up all over each other on a Twister pad."<br/>
<br/>
You feel your cheeks turning pink. <br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Over the next half hour you're run ragged between the game room upstairs, where you feel like you have to supervise, and the front door and the kitchen as you let people in and help them unload food. <br/>
<br/>
You're supremely grateful for Alexis's instincts as you deal with them all. There's no other way you could keep everyone straight.<br/>
<br/>
So there's Erin—a moon-faced girl with long, lush, chestnut-red hair—and her exotic, JV football-playing boyfriend, Julian, who's a hulking but cheery African/Maori mix hailing originally from Louisiana. Erin keeps shooting you meaningful glances as you and she unload the chips and colas they brought, but you ignore her.<br/>
<br/>
Sabrina Rutledge is your other best friend now, and like Erin she's dating a JV football player: Alec Stockwell. They arrive with a third ball-player, Alec's best friend, Jesse Sargent.<br/>
<br/>
Tanya Firth—an African-American girl who wears her hair in long, twin braids that dangle against her shoulder blades—and Rebecca Leary are best friends on the track-and-field team, and they arrive together. Their presence sets Erin vibrating hard, for of the girls Alexis knows they would be the most likely to get onto the cheerleader squad next year. <br/>
<br/>
The two oddballs in this pack of lettermen would be Douglas Canfield and Craig Wyatt: skinny, gawky AP students without girlfriends. From deep inside Alexis you flinch to look at them. Will Prescott would fit in right next to them, and they look totally out of place next to the gods of the field and court whose heavy footfalls sound from upstairs. They must know it too, for they remain downstairs in the kitchen with you and your girlfriends instead of going upstairs to hang out with the other guys. Still, they look very awkward, and shift silently from one foot to the other while listening to the talk without comment.<br/>
<br/>
The last to arrive is Michelle Estrich, the only senior of the friends, just as James Randolph is the only sophomore. Erin seems to take it as a signal, for after Michelle has put her contribution—a ten-pound bag of ice—into the freezer and gone upstairs, she nearly explodes. <br/>
<br/>
"So?" she says, threatening you with two tightly clenched fists. "What did Chelsea say?"<br/>
<br/>
You just smile back and concentrate on chopping up the broccoli, cauliflower and carrots for your personal vegetable medley. (All of the other food that got brought—fast-food chicken or the pizzas—makes your gorge rise.) "I told you," you reply, "I can't tell you. She swore me to secrecy."<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea who?" asks Sabrina. "Chelsea Cooper?" Her mouth falls open when you nod.<br/>
<br/>
"She asked Alix over to talk!" Erin grips the counter edge until her knuckles whiten. "And now she won't tell us what they talked about! Except that it was about the cheerleader squad!"<br/>
<br/>
"But she was asking you for recommendations, wasn't she?" Erin whines. "That's what you told me on the phone!"<br/>
<br/>
"I did not! And we didn't—!" But Erin has so flustered you that you've forgotten the story you'd invented and rehearsed. "We just talked about girls in the junior class, that's all," you stammer. "You know. Who's good at what, who's on what teams." You dart an embarrassed grin at Tanya and Rebecca. "I made sure to talk about <i>you guys,</i> though." <br/>
<br/>
"So why'd she want to talk to you?" Craig asks, and he turns red as the girls gasp at his blunt question. "I mean, why would Chelsea want to, like, talk to you specifically?" He visibly cringes under a circle of glares. "Is she talking to lots girls about this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because Alix only knows <i>everyone</i>, that's why Chelsea wants her opinion!" Erin exclaims.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know 'everyone'," you object as you put the vegetables back in the refrigerator. "Probably she's asking everyone. I don't know why she'd think I'm, like, super connected or anything." You pause as you catch yourself in the act of taking out your cell phone. Then you shrug and take a photo of the vegetable medley that's resting on the island. "Hey everyone, get in a circle around the back of the island and I'll—" You hold up your phone.<br/>
<br/>
Sabrina rolls her eyes as everyone shuffles together. "Sure, Alix. It's like you're totally invisible online."<br/>
<br/>
You scrunch your nose at her but take the picture anyway. Then you busy yourself uploading it while everyone else starts trooping upstairs with the rest of the food.<br/>
<br/>
Because you are totally the kind of girl who puts pictures of her snacks online. It takes you five minutes to tag and cross-reference it to your various accounts.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's too much food, too many games, and too many bodies upstairs for everyone to squeeze into one space, so everyone spreads out in small groups to eat and and talk. Naturally, the couples pair up: Erin and Julian, and Sabrina and Alec. Rebecca looks a little lost without her boyfriend Scott to lean up against, but she makes do with the other basketball players.<br/>
<br/>
You wind up sitting on the floor with Douglas and Craig. Or maybe it's better to say that they sit down with you, because you certainly don't seek them out. Probably it's because they feel a little out of place with the jocks, even though Alec and Roman and their friends are really cool and friendly with them. You hope they're not trying to edge up close to <i>you.</i> They're nice guys, and smart, but ...<br/>
<br/>
But you can't keep your eyes off the other guys. Alexis's lustful fascination leaves you squirming, but you can't help yourself. Pretending to be her means giving in to her instincts, at least a little.<br/>
<br/>
You keep your gaze off Alec and Julian—it doesn't do to ogle your friends' boyfriends—so it's the lean, strong basketball players who draw your attention. <br/>
<br/>
James is sweet, smart, and very cute with his swooping, sun-drenched blonde hair and its ducktail bob, but he is also a year younger, and you blink to recognize the truth in what Chelsea had said: that girls want to look at guys who are their age or older, not at the guys who are younger.<br/>
<br/>
Justin is the tallest of the gang, but he is still well-built, even if his long neck and long torso remind you a little of a giraffe. He has big eyes and a wide mouth, and you jump a little when you find yourself wondering if he's a sloppy kisser with those lips.<br/>
<br/>
But the leader of the bunch, even with the football players in the room, is clearly Roman. His chocolate-colored hair, which twists up in little spit curls now matter how he brushes it out, hovers over dark eyes, dark eyebrows, and a wide, white smile that is bracketed at either end by deep dimples. He has a hard, powerful chest and strong legs and biceps. He speaks in a resonant baritone that gives you chills. <br/>
<br/>
You try not to be obvious about it, but maybe you are. An hour into the party, when you're down in the kitchen loading up some more plates, Michelle (who has followed you down) sidles up to you. "Sabrina and Erin sure seem happy with their boyfriends," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"They're great guys," you agree. Julian is exotic, but like the blonde, corn-fed Alec he is a sweet-tempered and thoughtful guy.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle rubs the small of your back. "If you want me to give one of the other guys a nudge for you," she says, "I could."</span></div></div>


path: 113122112122211212
author_id: seuzz
title: Confessions from Somewhere
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>What? God! Get myself a boyfriend?<br/>
<br/>
No,</i> you hastily correct yourself before the words can come squealing out of you. <i>Get </i>Alexis<i> a boyfriend.</i><br/>
<br/>
Except the whole point of this impersonation was to use Alexis to get <i>you</i> a boyfriend.<br/>
<br/>
<i>No! A girlfriend, Will! A girlfriend!</i><br/>
<br/>
"Hey, it's okay," Michelle says. She pulls you into a hug. "Why are you shaking?"<br/>
<br/>
You're not just shaking. Your nose is starting to run, and you can feel your tear ducts loosen. <i>Dammit, it was like Michelle pushed a button or something!</i><br/>
<br/>
"I'm okay," you sniff.<br/>
<br/>
"There's nothing to be scared of. Roman and them, they all like you. They'd all be asking you out, but— Hey!" You almost fall over as your knees buckle. "Alix! What's wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
You swipe an eye with the back of your hand. You can't tell her <i>But I'm not Alexis, I'm a guy, and I don't want a boyfriend!</i> At the same time, you feel yourself so wound up in Alexis's own confusions that you yourself can hardly think straight. "It's no good," you finally stammer.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle—who is very tall—ducks her head to look into your face. Her expression is grave. "They just need a little nudge, is all."<br/>
<br/>
"Why, are they scared of me?" You hiccup—you're shaking that hard—and laugh nervously.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle touches the side of your face, pushing one of the dangling bangs away. "All those guys upstairs care for you, Alix. They'd do anything for you."<br/>
<br/>
At her words, you dissolve into tears. More than tears, you dissolve into heaving, gulping sobs. Michelle pulls you close again, pressing your face gently into her shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
You rest there for what seems a long time. It's very comfortable there. Michelle makes you feel safe. There's something very motherly about her. She is wise and sober and she never gets excited, and you feel like you can let all of Alexis's fears and vexations and griefs pour out and onto her ample bosom.<br/>
<br/>
And, of course, that bosom is another reason you like being held by her. <i>I'm hugging a cheerleader, and she's hugging me back!</i><br/>
<br/>
Footsteps squeak on the linoleum. You don't look up or around, though, and after a pause they retreat.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, the shudders and sobs subside, and when you look up again Michelle helps you dry your eyes and wash your face. "I didn't mean to set you off," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's okay. I shouldn't— I'm just being stupid."<br/>
<br/>
"About what? Not about the guys, is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, about them. No, about me. " You might start crying again, but you've not got many tears left at the moment. Instead, you take a deep breath and plunge into the kind of explanation that Alexis would give—because it's one that Alexis would feel. "I'm scared."<br/>
<br/>
"It's always going to be a little scary," Michelle says with soft sympathy. "But Justin and James and Roman, and Jesse, any of the guys, they're the best you could—"<br/>
<br/>
"No, I'm not scared of them. I'm scared of—" You take another breath, close your eyes, and rest your palm on your own bosom. "I'm scared that—" You gulp. "What if—?" It's so hard to say. "My heart," is what you finally settle on. You know that she'll know what you mean, for all of Alexis's friends know of her health. "If something happens ..." You trail off.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Alix." Michelle's tone turns reproachful. "You can't let that scare you off."<br/>
<br/>
"Why not?"<br/>
<br/>
She grimaces. "You can't run away from being happy, just because you're scared something will take it away from you. That's like— Like giving all your money away because you're scared of being robbed!"<br/>
<br/>
"But what if it <i>causes</i> me to—!" You gulp again. "I have to be careful! Really careful! Because if I don't—"<br/>
<br/>
"You're afraid of the stress?" Michelle frowns. "There wouldn't be any stress, not with ... whoever."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe not stress, but what about excitement? If I get too excited—"<br/>
<br/>
"You're <i>always</i> getting excited, Alix."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God, she's right! You're doing it now! Stress and worry and fear! You haven't been this excited since ...!</i> Well, since this morning, probably, but you need to calm down. <i>Now!</i><br/>
<br/>
"I could get <i>really</i> excited, Michelle," you tell her meekly.<br/>
<br/>
"This <i>isn't</i> excited? Not for you?" She lifts an eyebrow.<br/>
<br/>
"Not this kind of excitement! Not this way! Oh God, never mind!" You spin around and bury your face in your hands, for both you and Alexis are horrified by what you realize you're implying.<br/>
<br/>
But Michelle has penetrated your meaning too. "Oh," she says. "Are you talking about, um—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Never mind!" You blush furiously into your hands, and try driving from your head the image of yourself cuming furiously while Roman, crouching over you, rams a long, thick, and diamond-hard cock inside you.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle clasps you from behind. "Things don't have to go <i>that</i> far!"<br/>
<br/>
<i>But maybe I want them to go that far!</i> thinks the Alexis-addled part of your brain. <i>Nehnehnehnehneh!</i> yells the part that is solidly yourself, but the harder you try <i>not</i> thinking of Roman and his smooth, hard, bare torso, lightly filmed with sweat, the more clearly you can imagine him inside you and crushing you in his brawny arms.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I won't say anything to anyone if you don't want me to," Michelle murmurs in your ear. "But someone's going to say something to you eventually. I <i>know</i> it, Alix. You better be ready for it."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll think about it," you whisper back, and wilt inside her embrace.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Michelle goes back upstairs while you clean up and put yourself back together in a downstairs bathroom. Your knees are knocking as you mount the steps and return to the game room. No one remarks on your extended absence, and none of them apparently cares. But you can't shake the feeling that they all noticed, and were talking about it, and about you, and that Michelle warned them to all shut up about it and to treat you normally.<br/>
<br/>
Otherwise, the evening is a great success. An intimate little Friday entertainment with your closest friends, modeled on the kind of party that (according to Craig) Kelsey Blankenship has for all her friends every Saturday night. Food, games, conversation, everyone comfortable with each other, and no horrible surprises, like during that one party Alexis threw a few weeks ago, where it seemed like most of the school showed up, and where someone opened the linen closet door and found Ryder Hillberger with his pants down around his knees and Harmony Keener's mouth wrapped around his cock. Even the game of Twister, when it gets opened up, is tame, with Alec and Sabrina and Eric and Julian being the only players as everyone else watches and laughs and claps at the ersatz, fully-clad four-way that ensues.<br/>
<br/>
There's no more drama, either, of the sort that upset you down in the kitchen, though there are two fraught moments when it looks like first Jesse and then later Douglas catch you alone and act like they're on the verge of asking you a Very Significant Question.<br/>
<br/>
Things wrap up by one-thirty, though, and by two o'clock Michelle and Erin have left, having helped you clean up the game room and the kitchen. You yourself are so exhausted you barely have the concentration to enjoy changing into linen pajamas and slipping into a satiny bed. Even your last thoughts before drifting to sleep, of Roman's smiling face pressing close to your own, don't disturb you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So it looks like you were having fun," Chelsea says. She winks at you over the top of her cell phone, then returns to swiping through the images. They are, of course, photos you took of the party last night, from your vegetable medley through the game of Twister, the poker hand you used to win five dollars out of Craig and James and Rebecca, and a very tired Erin being carried out at the end of the night by her husky boyfriend. You didn't have to tell Chelsea where to look for them; you only had to mention that you'd taken some.<br/>
<br/>
You're up in the gym loft on this Saturday afternoon. You woke late but cleaned up fast and rushed out a little after lunch in answer to Chelsea's summoning text. Naturally, you didn't alert your friends to this second meeting with the head cheerleader.<br/>
<br/>
"So, no pictures of <i>you</i> playing Twister?" Chelsea titters.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't play."<br/>
<br/>
"Was that out of character?" She titters again.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I was in character. Alexis doesn't— Never mind."<br/>
<br/>
But your words have caught Chelsea's attention. "Alexis doesn't what?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's nothing."<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, Will." Chelsea's eyes narrow, and her silken voice turns steely. "Tell me."<br/>
<br/>
"It's nothing, Chelsea." You clench your fists so you won't start shaking again. "Alix just isn't into, well, guys."<br/>
<br/>
"You could fool me." She swipes through a bunch of pictures. "Looks to me like she's crushing hard on all of them."<br/>
<br/>
You shrug, then blurt it out. "She's got a heart condition. A defect. She doesn't want to get 'excited'."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's expression falls; in fact, it's probably the first time you've ever seen her look wrong-footed. "Whoa! Seriously?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. Don't spread it around, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. But what's that got to do with—?"<br/>
<br/>
"She tries not to get excited." You raise a meaningful eyebrow.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea stares at you, then clucks her tongue. "Well, that's no reason that <i>you</i> can't take advantage of things and get excited <i>for</i> her."<br/>
<br/>
You freeze at a sudden thought. <i>Why not bring Alexis back, and show her the masks ... and give her a chance to experience a fear-free life as someone else?</i></span></div></div>


path: 1131221121222112121
author_id: seuzz
title: Friends and Anti-Friends
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Well, if you <i>don't</i> want to get yourself a boyfriend," Chelsea starts to say with a titter.<br/>
<br/>
"Let's show Alexis the masks," you blurt out. Your interruption stops Chelsea short, and she blinks.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you continue, and your heart starts to beat hard. "We should get her out from under my mask, and we should show her the masks, and we should, like, get her involved."<br/>
<br/>
"Will," Chelsea squeals, "what are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
Your heart pulses in your chest and in your ears. "I'm talking about giving her a chance to have a normal life!" you exclaim. "You know, one where she doesn't have to worry about—" Instinctively, you cover your nose and mouth with your hands, and breathe deeply of the warmed air cupped there. "We should give her a chance to be someone else," you say more calmly. "To be someone who doesn't have a health issue. So she can, like, experience life without worrying about—"<br/>
<br/>
"No," Chelsea says, there's steel inside her sweet tones.<br/>
<br/>
"But—!"<br/>
<br/>
"No, Will, that's not part of the plan."<br/>
<br/>
"What plan?"<br/>
<br/>
She turns a little pink, and stammers. "The plan to—! What we were talking about—! This girl—!" <br/>
<br/>
She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and resumes with a patronizing smile. "You're letting this girl do your thinking for you, Will," she says. "You need to concentrate. The plan, remember, is to get you a girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"But if we could—!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to listen to any more about it, Will. If we get Alexis mixed up in this then who else will get into it? It'll just turn into a mess. Come on, get out your phone, and let's talk possibilities for you."<br/>
<br/>
You bite your tongue, but comply.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
And so Chelsea manages to distract you.<br/>
<br/>
Mostly. Barely.<br/>
<br/>
But you don't really see the faces of Alexis's acquaintances as they flash over the screen of your phone, and you only grunt in answer to Chelsea's persistent questions.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I'm just not into doing this today," you finally declare. "Not right now." You shoot Chelsea a nervous glance. "Maybe I need to get used to, uh, being here?"<br/>
<br/>
You expect her to yell, but instead she smiles back broadly. "Sure, maybe that's it," she says. "I guess it can be a little confusing for you. I mean—" She rubs your back while beaming into your face. "Look at you now and look at what you used to look like. If you need to take your time, take your time. The real girl's not going anyplace."<br/>
<br/>
<i>True,</i> you reflect as you drive off, <i>and she's safe from a ... coronary incident ... as long as she's trapped under your face.</i><br/>
<br/>
It would work that way, wouldn't it?<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Text messages backed up while you were talking to Chelsea, and once home you lock yourself in your bedroom to sort them out. They're the usual Saturday-morning sort of stuff from Alexis's friends: <i>What are you doing? Who are you with? Is there a plan?</i> You don't think you're up to dealing with them at the moment—you are feeling pretty rattled for reasons you don't quite understand—and broadcast a generic text to the effect that you're busy helping your mom with some Homeowner Association stuff and aren't free.<br/>
<br/>
But your finger hovers over the "Send" button before shooting that text off to Michelle. You chew on your lip, and out of the corner of your eye catch the motion reflected in the mirror behind the vanity/makeup table. You do a double-take at the girl who looks back at you from inside it.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Look at you now and look at what you used to look like,</i> is what Chelsea said. Yes, just look at you now. A small, slight girl in the junior class with a frightened light in her eye. <i>Oh, but what have you got to be frightened off, Alix?</i> you chide yourself, and brush a dangling strand of hair out of your face. <i>You've got lots of great friends just dying to hang out with you, and a bunch of awesome boys to hang off of. And look at this house, and this bedroom!</i> You've even got a credit card of your own—something that Will Prescott's dad would never trust him with.<br/>
<br/>
Yet it might all go in an instant, like a soap bubble popping in the sun.<br/>
<br/>
You fall back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling.<br/>
<br/>
It's so selfish of Chelsea, to keep Alexis trapped under a mask when she could be enjoying life, for once, free of that hovering fear! You blink back sudden tears of pity.<br/>
<br/>
You raise your phone over your face and blink up again at Michelle's name.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Wise Michelle. Sober Michelle.</i> She's like your group's den mother. Even if you can't <i>tell</i> her anything, or <i>ask</i> her anything, you'd feel better just having her and her shoulder nearby.<br/>
<br/>
You erase the old text and shoot off a new one, asking if she's available for a little two-girl shopping-and-snacking expedition. <i>I'll buy,</i> you add, even though you know it sounds needy.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You meet her at The Shoppes at Fell's Lake, mostly because, as the most expensive retail district in the city, it's the place where you're least likely to run into any of your other friends, which would be awkward after telling them that you are busy with your mom. Then after an hour of window shopping you repair to Le Metropolitain, where Michelle lets you treat her to an artichoke heart salad that costs twenty-five dollars. You content yourself with a quinoa salad after making certain that all the ingredients are locally sourced.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's on your mind?" Michelle asks after you've placed your orders. "It's the first time she's alluded to any kind of "business" that you might want to talk about.<br/>
<br/>
You know what she's expecting: a follow-up to your talk last night about the boys. You're not sure what you want to talk to her about, though, so you answer obliquely: "Do you like playing matchmaker?"<br/>
<br/>
A little white spot shows in one of her cheeks. "I didn't know I was trying to play matchmaker last night," she retorts. "If that's what you're talking about."<br/>
<br/>
"No, no!" you stammer. "I just meant in kind of a general, um, way? You know?" You cover your mouth with your hands and drink in the warmed air. "You know, Sabrina and Rebecca accuse <i>me</i> of liking to play matchmaker."<br/>
<br/>
"Accuse?" Michelle echoes. "It's a weird thing to 'accuse' someone of."<br/>
<br/>
"You think so?" You feel yourself blushing with pleasure. "Because I think about some of our friends, like Tanya—" You gulp down your heart, which has begun to beat inside your throat. "You know it's kind of hard for her, with guys, on account of, you know—" You break off and start to tremble as you feel yourself dancing around the topic of Tanya's race and its implications for her dating life. There aren't very many African-Americans at Westside, and none but Tanya in your immediate social circle.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't know Tanya was having any problems there."<br/>
<br/>
"Well—"<br/>
<br/>
"Because she and James seem to hit it off."<br/>
<br/>
"The thing is— What!" <br/>
<br/>
You gasp as you catch up to Michelle's words, and your jaw falls open. "James and Tanya? <i>Our</i> James? Is there something with— With ... them?"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle's expression turns shifty. "Depends on what you mean by 'something'. You didn't know about them?" You shake your head numbly, and Michelle's expression turns pinched. "Well, they asked me to keep it quiet, but I thought maybe you knew too."<br/>
<br/>
"No." You grip the edge of the table. "James? And Tanya?" <i>James, the quiet sophomore basketball player who's as blonde as a vanilla wafer and twice as white as Wonder Bread, with Tanya?</i> "How serious is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. Tanya wants it quiet because she's not sure she's serious about him. James, I think he's just shy."<br/>
<br/>
You feel like a house that's just been flattened by a fast-moving twister, and can hardly frame any questions. But Michelle refuses to be drawn out any further. "If they didn't tell you, I'm not going to tell you," she flatly declares. "I keep my friends' confidences, even from you. Besides," she adds as she checks her phone, which has dinged with an incoming text, "I'll have to get that salad to go. I'm wanted." She gathers her stuff and signals the waitress.<br/>
<br/>
As it happens, you get a text of your own a minute later, from Chelsea, who demands your presence instantly. So you get your own salad to go as well, and follow Michelle out.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
And you wind up following her all the way across town, too, and to your amazement you park behind her in front of Chelsea's house. Chelsea herself, in jeans cutoffs and a billowing sleeveless top that she probably got from her boyfriend, is watering the plants out front as you get out of your car. She waves you both cheerfully over. "What, were the two of you hanging out together?" she asks with a dimpled smile after she's shut off the hose.<br/>
<br/>
"As a matter of fact, yes," you faintly reply. You're more than a little unnerved by Michelle's creepy, expectant silence as she placidly stares at Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that's great!" Chelsea squeals. "Super convenient. Well, anyway, time to make some introductions, even though you're already friends. Michelle," she says, "Alexis here is a friend of mine. She's probably going to have some messages to pass along to me, and you need to pass them along as fast as you get them. Understand?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, Chelsea," Michelle says.<br/>
<br/>
A prickle goes up your spine even before Chelsea turns to you.<br/>
<br/>
"And Michelle here," she says, "isn't really Michelle. Well, I guess she is, deep down. But she's got one of those mask things on her. The kind that make her do what I want her to do."<br/>
<br/>
She grins, as though she expects you to congratulate her.</span></div></div>


path: 11312211212221121211
author_id: seuzz
title: The Ally of My Ally
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Oh God! Oh Jesus!</i> It was a fake that you were shopping with this afternoon? It was a fake you were <i>this close</i> to spilling out all your secrets and insecurities to?<br/>
<br/>
Michelle isn't Michelle? She's one of those robot things that you make with a mask? You gape at her.<br/>
<br/>
She looks back blankly at you. Well, maybe not entirely blankly. There's a glint of faint curiosity in her eye. But she doesn't look much interested in you or in what Chelsea has said. Mostly she looks tired.<br/>
<br/>
"How long?" you ask Chelsea when you find your breath and your voice again. "How long has, um, Michelle been—" You gulp, and wave your hand in front of your face.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, a couple of days now, I guess," Chelsea says. Her tone is careless.<br/>
<br/>
"Including last night?" you gasp, and go cold all over when Chelsea nods. It comes back vividly, that talk you and Michelle had in the kitchen: Michelle cradling you, and comforting you, and telling you that you've nothing to be afraid of and that you've got to live your life without being afraid that it will end suddenly. Such sweet, warm wisdom ... and all coming from a fake who is under Chelsea's control!<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach turns over.<br/>
<br/>
"Now, you girls were hanging out together," Chelsea continues, and you flinch as she grasps your wrist and fake-Michelle's both. "What were you doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"We were at Le Metropolitain," Michelle instantly replies, "talking about friends."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes?" Chelsea says. Her eyes glint. "Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"James Randolph and Tanya Firth."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea frowns. "I don't know them."<br/>
<br/>
"No reason you should," Michelle says with cool indifference. "He's a sophomore, she's a junior. They're sleeping together."<br/>
<br/>
"Sleeping together?" you squeal.<br/>
<br/>
"Casually. I guess it's a casual thing," Michelle continues. She turns to Chelsea, even though Chelsea hasn't said anything. "They do it at her place a couple of times a week, on account of her parents have work. She says he's pretty good in the sack, even though he was a virgin when they first—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, I'm not that interested," Chelsea says.<br/>
<br/>
"You told me you wanted me to tell you everything—"<br/>
<br/>
"Until I tell you to stop, and now I'm telling you to stop." Chelsea turns to you with a giggle. "Isn't it amazing? I'm so glad you showed me how to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Why did you do this to Michelle, of all people?" you shriek. "And why are you telling <i>me</i> about this?"<br/>
<br/>
"So we can coordinate through her. Dur!" Chelsea rolls her eyes. "I'm not really friends with this girl you're pretending to be, you know." She tweaks the front of your blouse. "I probably wouldn't be, either. She seems a little neurotic, tee-bee-aitch. You could stand to dial it back a little, Will, when it's just us. Anyway," she continues as you goggle back at her, speechless, "anything you have to talk about to me, you can pass on through Michelle here."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that why you—? Her?" Again, you wave your hand in front of your face.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Well, kind of. Mostly? Don't worry about it, Will. You knew it was going to be someone, right? This way it just works out perfectly."<br/>
<br/>
And as you grasp at some kind of reply, she looks between you and Michelle, then tweaks your blouse again. "Michelle doesn't really know you, she tells me," she says. "Not the real you, I mean, Will. But maybe you could make some introductions, and she could get to know you, and then maybe you and her could work together to figure out your girlfriend situation?"<br/>
<br/>
You gulp, and to your own surprise find yourself nodding.<br/>
<br/>
"That's great!" Chelsea says. "So, I think that's all we have to talk about. Unless you've got some other news already you want to share?" Her eyebrows go up, and her gaze turns twinkly.<br/>
<br/>
"No. No, I think that's all." Your knees start to shake.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay then!" Chelsea coils up the hose. "I have to talk to Michelle now. If you think of anything or need anything, text or call her from now on." She dimples at you. "You'll get along great. I'll make sure that Michelle will <i>like</i> Will Prescott and want to help him. If she doesn't, let me know."<br/>
<br/>
At least you make it home without vomiting inside the car.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It makes a grotesque kind of sense, you decide, when you're back in your bedroom, huddled up on the bed. You were pretty sure that Chelsea was going to use that mask and that goop on another cheerleader—probably Lin or Yumi or some other girl who was always causing trouble for her. Michelle, you know from Alexis's memories, doesn't make trouble for Chelsea, but she could be useful as a spy. And as Chelsea herself pointed out, she's a convenient conduit for passing messages along between yourself and her.<br/>
<br/>
But as the afternoon wears on, you feel yourself growing even sicker as you think about what Chelsea has done—and may be planning to do. You try telling yourself that you knew what you were getting in to when you agreed to help her, and that you don't owe Michelle anything, that you owe her no more than you owe Alexis. But that leaves you feeling even more wracked with guilt, especially when you think about this morning, and how you tried—but then gave up on—talking Chelsea into using the masks to help Alexis.<br/>
<br/>
An hour of gut-wrenching indecision passes before you stumble over to the mirror to address the girl inside it.<br/>
<br/>
"Alexis Krystal Lachance," you tell her, and she looks as ill with fear as you feel, "you better be grateful for what I'm going to try to do."<br/>
<br/>
But even though you are her, you can't tell how she'll react.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
And for that reason, it seems better to go the long way around instead of attacking things directly.<br/>
<br/>
So you text the fake Michelle: <i>I got a problem needs your help.</i><br/>
<br/>
And the fake Michelle is at least as helpful as the real one, and twenty minutes later she is waiting at the old Acheson elementary school as you pull up. "So what's up?" she asks. It might be your imagination, but she looks a little colder, and her tone is more distant, than it was last night. "If it's about that talk we had with Chelsea," she starts to say.<br/>
<br/>
"What about it?"<br/>
<br/>
She jerks her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "I just do what I'm told," she says as she looks past you, "and Chelsea wants me to help you out, whoever you are. So, you know."<br/>
<br/>
Your heart beats in your throat. "Well, what if I wanted to help <i>you</i> out?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like how?"<br/>
<br/>
"Come on." You gesture her to the basement door. Your own doppelganger had looked you up and down greedily when you stopped by your old house to get the key, and had groaned audibly when you told him <i>not</i> to follow you over. "Do you know this place?" you ask as you fumble the lock off the door. "I forgot you live just down the street from here."<br/>
<br/>
"No. I only moved here a few months ago, remember?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it used to be a school. There's a community center in the old cafeteria." You're very conscious that you're prattling, but you're nervous, and it's what Alexis does when she's nervous. "I— I mean—" Names and identities are suddenly difficult. "Yeah, I guess I'm the one who kind of broke into here," you stammer as you lead Michelle down the stairs and into the cluttered basement. Dust dances thickly in the light beams that pierce the gloom, and your breath becomes choked. <i>This can't be good for my lungs,</i> Alexis whispers in your ear. "I mean, the real me is the one who— Not Alexis, the guy who's—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I get it. What do you want to show me about this place?" Michelle looks around with an expression of vague curiosity.<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, I wanted— Look, I need you to lay out on this table here. Or that one." You flap your hands and wish you could be more decisive. "Um, you don't have to get undressed or anything."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle raises an eyebrow. "Look, what's your name, Chelsea told me to help you, but she didn't say anything about getting kinky with you."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not—!" You choke as a blush rushes up your cheeks. "This is to help <i>you!</i> You don't like being Chelsea's slave or like that, do you? Well, do you?" you repeat when Michelle says nothing.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I don't like it," she says, and she rubs her arm. "But I just have a feeling I shouldn't—"<br/>
<br/>
"Just lay on the table," you say. "You can do that much, right?" Michelle gets a very pinched look, but perches on the old conference table. "Now you have to lay back."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll tell you this," she says, "if you put your hands up my blouse—"<br/>
<br/>
"I just need to touch your face. It'll be alright, you'll see." Michelle glares up warily as you grasp her brow. "This won't hurt a bit."<br/>
<br/>
"Hurt?" she says.<br/>
<br/>
And that's all she has time to say before you rip her face off.<br/>
<br/>
At least, it feels like you've ripped her face off. It's still there afterward. But now you've got a mask in your hand. You tremble all over as you turn it over and see Michelle's name blazing in blue letters on its inner surface.<br/>
<br/>
You lay it aside and clasp your head between your hands. "Okay," you mutter to yourself, "now how the hell am I going to explain all this to her when she wakes up?"</span></div></div>


path: 113122112122211212111
author_id: seuzz
title: A Story for Michelle
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You let Michelle wake on her own. And after ten minutes of prep, all you can think of to say, when she sits up on her elbows and gives you a hard look, is "Hey."<br/>
<br/>
You're perched cross-legged on an old, dirty desk next to the conference table where she is stretched out. You'd been replying to a text from Sabrina, asking if your mom was done with you yet, but you scramble to put the phone away as Michelle frowns at you. "So how do you feel?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
But she just continues to stare hard at you, then glances around. It's obvious she has no idea where she is or how she got there. "Yeah, you're probably drawing a blank," you say.<br/>
<br/>
She sits up with a scowl, glares down at the floor, and shakes her head as though to clear it. She finally speaks when she looks up again: "What's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"You know that old elementary school in Acheson, a couple of blocks from where you live? That's where we are. Down in the basement."<br/>
<br/>
"What are we—? How did—?" Her frown deepens and a hot light comes into her eyes. "Is Chelsea Cooper here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, no, she's not Um, can you not be pissed at me or something? 'Cos I basically just rescued you."<br/>
<br/>
"Rescued me? From <i>what?</i>" Michelle growls.<br/>
<br/>
"From Chelsea. Turns out she's a bit of a witch. You knew that, but I mean literally. Like, real witchcraft."<br/>
<br/>
"Alix, what are you—?" Michelle grimaces as she slips off the table and onto her feet. "Can we get out of here? This dust—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I don't like the dust either, but it's better if we stay down here. Listen, just let me explain." You hiccup. "And don't ask me to explain how I know all this, just trust me that I do. Can you do that much for me, Michelle? I mean, please?" You give her Alexis's widest, brightest, most pleading smile.<br/>
<br/>
She makes a face and says nothing. But after a moment, she does grunt an affirmative. Her whole demeanor, though, tells you that you'd better make it fast.<br/>
<br/>
You take a deep breath. "Okay, to start with— So, once upon a time there was this guy who found a book of magic in a used book store. Like, a real, old-fashioned grimoire, with spells and everything. Spells for making disguises, and bewitching people, but he—"<br/>
<br/>
Alexis won a couple of creative writing prizes in middle school, so you find it much easier than you thought it would be to tell Michelle your story. Only with the names of the protagonists—except for Chelsea's—left out for the time being.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Naturally, Michelle looks very skeptical when you're finished, even though you've got that mask you pulled off her as evidence, along with the grimoire itself, which you'd also picked up from your doppelganger. She pages slowly through it with an expression of distaste. "So you still haven't told me how you found all this out," she says after you've explained things to her again. "Or who this guy is that you say Chelsea's been working with. And I sure don't believe any of it," she sourly adds.<br/>
<br/>
You've been putting off this part of the story, and you have to stop yourself from backing away from Michelle as you plunge into it.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," you gulp, "I guess I can answer that part, and prove to you that's it's all true, if I, um, show you something. But you have to promise that you won't freak out. I mean, I don't want you running away or anything. And you have to promise you won't hurt me."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle glares up at you from under lowered brows. "I'd want to hurt you?"<br/>
<br/>
You nod, and gulp again. "I messed up, Michelle, and I'm trying to fix things. Really, I am. And I can't finish fixing things if you—" You swallow, for you really are afraid of what Michelle might do to you. "If you try to kill me."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle studies you for a moment. "Yeah, alright," she says. "I won't kill you. But just finish up, already."<br/>
<br/>
Your head seems to bobble loosely on your neck as you nod. "Okay, the first thing is that I have to take my clothes off. 'Cos I don't want to tear them up. And, um, then I'm going to have to, uh, transform," you add as Michelle pales. "'Cos I'm wearing a mask too. Like the one you were wearing. Because," you add miserably as Michelle stares at you. "I'm not Alexis. Not really. I'm—" You take a deep breath. "I'm really that guy who found that book."<br/>
<br/>
You expect that to set off an explosion, but Michelle only continues to stare evenly at you. At first you wonder if she even heard what you said. Then you realize that she just doesn't believe you.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Well, this will show her,</i> you think as you strip off Alexis's jacket and kick off her shoes. When you're naked, you look up at her again, to find her still staring at you with a stony glare.<br/>
<br/>
With a final gulping sigh, you heft yourself onto the same conference table where Michelle woke, and grab your forehead with one hand. You close your eyes, mutter some arcane words, and pull.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Waking is like clambering out of a muddy hole, and even after you raise up and look around with a frown you can't quite place where you are and what has happened. But when something moves in the corner of your eye, you fly backward and tumble onto a hard floor. "Fuck!" you exclaim, and cower, for in a flash it has all come flooding back, and you raise your arms to ward off what you're sure will be a well-aimed punch in the face from Michelle Estrich.<br/>
<br/>
But when you peep back out again, you find yourself alone. You clear your throat and call Michelle's name. When there's no answer, you call again, more loudly.<br/>
<br/>
The reply comes from the top of the stairs: "Is that you?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Depends on who "I" am,</i> you think, and stumble to the foot of the stairs. "Michelle?" You blink at the apparition at the top. She is backlit from behind, so she's only a silhouette, but you can tell that she's seated at the top of the stairs.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," she drawls. "You got any clothes you can put on?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, no. Um, are you okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be?" Her tone is cold. "So where's Alexis? The real one. I got that mask thing up here with me, if you're looking for it."<br/>
<br/>
You take a deep breath. <i>At least she didn't try to kill me while I was unconscious,</i> you think.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," you call back. "Um, Alexis is back at my house. You know how I explained how you could hide people under a mask, and make them into a kind of slave? Well, Alexis is hidden under a mask of, um, me."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. And why's that? And do you have a name? One of your own," she adds.<br/>
<br/>
"Will Prescott. I'm a senior, like you. And, well—" You scratch the back of your head. "Chelsea talked me into, um, impersonating Alexis." You hate having to shout all this up the stairs—it's like you're broadcasting your secrets to the world—but you don't dare go up the stairs to meet her directly. "It was just supposed to be a temporary thing. I want a girlfriend, you see." <i>God, what a horrible excuse it sounds like, now that you say it out loud.</i> "I wanted a girlfriend, and Chelsea suggested that if I, uh, pretended to be Alexis then I might be able to find one down in the junior class. I could, uh, set something up, and then we'd bring Alexis back, and no harm, no foul. You see. It wasn't supposed to be <i>permanent,</i>" you insist.<br/>
<br/>
"So is that all done?" Michelle asks. "You got a girlfriend and you're putting things back?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I changed my mind. I didn't— I didn't know Chelsea was going to do something to <i>you.</i> That wasn't part of the plan. And I didn't like it. So I'm putting things back."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle is silent for a moment before replying. "Does Chelsea know this?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I don't know what she'll say." You chew your lip. "I don't know what I'm going to do about her."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle grunts. "So you 'rescued' me," she says, and contempt drips off the word "rescued." "Are you going to bring Alexis back now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. But, um—" You writhe a little. "I was hoping you could do it."<br/>
<br/>
"Me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'd go get the other me, and I'd show you what to do. But I'd leave it to you to get the mask off Alexis, and to explain things to her."<br/>
<br/>
There's a long pause. Then: "You're that big of a coward?"<br/>
<br/>
"No! I mean, I don't want to, but— I'm thinking of Alexis," you insist. "She's going to be freaked out <i>hard.</i> It would be better if she had a friend, not some strange guy, to explain it all to her. She's not as strong as you are, Michelle," you add into the silence that follows.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, I get it," Michelle sighs. The stairs creak as she stands up. "Can we get started?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. But you'll have to go get her. Because I'm a moron and forgot to bring a change of clothes."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, where do you live?" You pass along your address. "I'll be back as soon as I can."<br/>
<br/>
You sigh with relief.<br/>
<br/>
Until she closes the door on you and slaps the padlock back on it.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's a quarter hour—though it feels longer—before the door opens again and Michelle descends with your twin. "How about you get the clothes and mask off him," she suggests when you're all downstairs. "I'll take over from there."<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on?" the fake you asks. "Is this gonna interfere with my date?"<br/>
<br/>
Naturally, the question startles you. "Date? What date?"<br/>
<br/>
"I got a date tonight. Yumi helped set it up." He gives you a shit-eating grin.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121222112121111
author_id: seuzz
title: While You Were Away
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"A date?" you exclaim, and your doppelganger grins back at you. "The fuck? What kind of a—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Hey," Michelle interrupts you. "You're supposed to be turning Alexis back to normal." Her lips whiten as she compresses them.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but—!" You dance on the balls of your feet and point at your twin. "He—! I—!"<br/>
<br/>
"Come on." Michelle gives you the kind of look that mothers give their children when they start begging for the bad kind of cereals in the grocery store. Your shoulders sag.<br/>
<br/>
"This date," you murmur at the other Will Prescott as you push him onto what has turned into "the changing table." "Who's it with? How did—? You said Yumi set it up?"<br/>
<br/>
He nods as he lays on his back. His cap falls off, and instinctively you snatch it up and set it on your own head. "She asked me out to a party last night. I met this girl goes to Eastman. Eileen something. Uh, Piper."<br/>
<br/>
"Hurry up," Michelle says from behind your shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"Shh, hang on, this'll just take a minute. Go on," you tell your twin.<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs. "Tha's all. We hit it off. I'm s'posed to pick her up in an hour and hang out with her. Maybe we'll go dancing. Or, I dunno." He writhes across the desk top. "Go out to the Warehouse?" He grins. "She talked about doin' that. Or—" He rolls his tongue around inside his cheek. <br/>
<br/>
Then his gaze falls on something behind you—Michelle, probably—and he wilts.<br/>
<br/>
You lick your lips, which suddenly feel very dry. Your hands have lost a lot of their feeling as you fumble at your doppelganger's face.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you have to—?" Michelle starts to ask, but she breaks off as the mask pops off the fake you's face. With a soft thud, Alexis Lachance's head falls back onto the table. Her eyes are closed and her jaw is slack.<br/>
<br/>
"What were you saying?" you ask Michelle, who has crowded up behind your shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
But she says nothing, only stares down with a gaping mouth at her friend. She looks very tomboyish, being still dressed in your clothes, and her hair is disordered. But it is her.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, Michelle?" You poke her.<br/>
<br/>
She jumps. "Huh? Oh." She glances at you, then goes back to staring at Alexis. She swallows. "Wow. It's—" She swallows again. "It's really Alexis."<br/>
<br/>
"Like I told you. Um, I guess we can get my clothes off her now."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle comes to life again as you lay hands on your pants. "Yeah, I'll take care of that," she says, and pushes you away. "You— I dunno. Wait over there someplace." She waves at a dark corner of the room. "I'll bring your things over. Keep your head turned."<br/>
<br/>
You bite your tongue and shuffle off, and refrain from observing that you <i>were</i> Alexis until a little while ago, so you certainly know what she looked like and felt like without any clothes on.<br/>
<br/>
"Here," Michelle tells you a minute later as she thrusts a bundle at you. "Get dressed and wait outside. I'll— We'll—" She turns a pale face onto Alexis, who looks like she's starting to stir. "We'll come get you after I've, uh, talked to her."<br/>
<br/>
For a moment you almost rebel at being ordered about. But when Alexis's eyes flutter, you remember that this is why you rescued Michelle first, so that she could explain things to Alexis so as spare you that difficulty.<br/>
<br/>
Alexis opens her eyes, and you turn and trip as you race for the stairs.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Thirty minutes pass, and an agonizing thirty minutes it is, too. You slouch on the hood of Alexis's car, and in the cabin, and you pace between her car and Michelle's. You try to exhaust yourself with jumping jacks.<br/>
<br/>
And you return over and over to the texts on the cell phone that you recovered from your replacement.<br/>
<br/>
The texts to and from Caleb: <i>Went to party n hung w a girl goona hookup wicher tomrorrw.<br/>
<br/>
Your delusional see a dctor.<br/>
<br/>
Fucku not gonna ask her if she got frined for u.<br/>
<br/>
Good i want a real girlfr not hallucntion anyway.</i><br/>
<br/>
The texts to and from Keith: <i>met wicked cut girl at party last night. <br/>
<br/>
lol is she a bodybulider?<br/>
<br/>
*cute not cut gonna hookup withher tomrow givme free donuts n ill tell you all abut her<br/>
<br/>
for yu fprice is 2x.</i><br/>
<br/>
And naturally you pore intently over the texts to and from Eileen Piper herself. You can well imagine the gut-curdling fear that went into composing the opening text to her, for you get a shade of the same feeling just by reading it: <i>Hey I had a great time last night. Want to get together again tonight?</i><br/>
<br/>
And you twitch and writhe as you read the reply: <i>lol told u last night i did where and when?<br/>
<br/>
Starbucks at 5? I could pick you up.</i><br/>
<br/>
Her reply almost has you swallowing your tongue each time you read it: <i>starbucks is that all? not worth it.<br/>
<br/>
We could start there n go from there.<br/>
<br/>
lol just teaxsing. pick me up @8 n I'll take u someplace fun.</i><br/>
<br/>
Even after reading the exchange fifty or a hundred times, that closing text leaves you sagging against a wall for support.<br/>
<br/>
As for the girl herself, you <i>think</i> you find a photo of her on the phone. At least, it's the most recent photo in the album, and it was taken last night. It's kind of blurry, and no one is looking into the lens—<br/>
<br/>
Well, one person is looking into the lens: a buff-looking blonde guy in a letterman jacket, who seems to be lunging into the frame as though photo-bombing the picture.<br/>
<br/>
But the three people in the foreground just behind that jackass are looking in other directions. One is a skinny guy in vintage clothing and a mane of curly brown hair. The second is an Asian girl (not Yumi) with long black hair. And in the middle is a small, blonde girl with curly hair hanging down just past her shoulders. She's looking away from the camera, and her tangled hair obscures her profile, so you can't really tell what she looks like.<br/>
<br/>
But you'd bet anything that this was a quick picture snapped shyly by your doppelganger when she wasn't looking.<br/>
<br/>
And unless he was trying to get a picture of some other girl who gave him a chubby, it would probably have to be this Eileen girl.<br/>
<br/>
Well, you can certainly find out if you want to. She's expecting you to pick her up around eight, and as you twist yourself into pretzels of indecision outside the basement door, the time drags by from a quarter before seven to a quarter after.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You are slumped behind the wheel of Alexis's car and nervously rubbing your thumb over the screen of your phone when the basement door opens. You bolt upright, and feel all the blood drain from your face as two girls emerge: Michelle and Alexis.<br/>
<br/>
The older girl looks very calm if a little grim. The younger one—it scarcely surprises you, for you still feel something of her personality about you—looks very pale and very shaky. She leans against Michelle for support.<br/>
<br/>
And when her eyes lock onto you, her mouth falls open.<br/>
<br/>
For a moment you stare at each other.<br/>
<br/>
But when Alexis doesn't look away, you crawl out of  her car.<br/>
<br/>
No one says anything for a long moment. At last, you croak out a weak "Hey."<br/>
<br/>
"So I told her everything that was going on," Michelle says, and she squeezes Alexis's hand. "So what happens now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is she okay?" you ask. To Alexis: "Are you okay?"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle answers for her. "She'll be fine. She just has to get used to things. I guess maybe I do too." Her mouth compresses into a straight line. "But what about Chelsea? What are you going to tell her?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," you confess, and follow it with a weak shrug. "I guess tell her that we're not going to be doing that stuff anymore. I don't think we should tell anyone else about this stuff. It seems kind of dangerous." You glance nervously between the girls.<br/>
<br/>
It's like no one wants to talk. After having given you a long stare, Alexis is now dodging your face. Michelle also doesn't want to give you a straight look. And for your part, you're now too embarrassed to give them a square look either.<br/>
<br/>
At last Michelle gives a grunt. "I think Alexis and I are going to go hang out for a bit. I think I've got some messages to catch up on, too," she adds as she fumbles with her phone. "And didn't that fake you say something about having a date?" You nod. "Then I guess you won't want to skip that."</span></div></div>


path: 11312211212221121211112
author_id: seuzz
title: Girls With Plans
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I don't have to go on that date," you find yourself blurting out, and you dart your eyes between Michelle and Alexis. "I can, like, hang loose if you need to talk to me or stuff." You feel a bad tremble coming on, for you are awash with shame, now that you have both Alexis and Michelle looking at you. "Anyway," you add with a weak shrug, "it's not like it was really me who was going to go."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay then, what's your number?" Michelle asks after a pause. You give it to her, and she taps it into her phone. "Maybe we'll talk later." Then she adds, "I know you and I will."<br/>
<br/>
Then she puts her arm around Alexis and guides her to her car. Almost you suggest that Alexis shouldn't be driving, not in the state of shock that seems to have fallen over her, but close your mouth after you see that Michelle has guided Alexis over to the passenger side, and that she means to take the wheel herself.<br/>
<br/>
You hang back until Michelle has climbed in and started the motor, then you lunge at the driver-side window and tap at it. Michelle rolls it down.<br/>
<br/>
"Look," you gabble in a voice that sounds desperate even in your ears, "you have to believe I'm not a bad guy. I mean, I'm fixing everything back, right?" Michelle only stares back stonily, and Alexis ducks her head. "And the way all this started—" You twist in place as your throat freezes up.<br/>
<br/>
But after taking a deep breath, you force the words out. "I told Chelsea I wanted to stop things. I told her I wanted to tell, um, Alexis about the masks, and to use them to help her." You look past Michelle to the other girl, who continues to stare down into her small, delicate hands. "I know all about your, uh, health problems," you tell her, though she seems to be doing her best to ignore you. "I wanted to—" You lick your lips. "I thought maybe we could turn you into someone else for a little while. Like I was, uh, pretending to be you? You could be someone else for a little while. Someone who didn't have to worry about, uh, her health." Now you do start to shake. "Give you a kind of a vacation, as someone else, for a little while."<br/>
<br/>
Neither Alexis nor Michelle reply. Limply, you add, "Chelsea didn't like that idea. And then I decided to just stop everything."<br/>
<br/>
"We'll talk to you later," Michelle says, then digs around inside her purse to take out a bulky set of keys. "I'll call you later, and maybe you can come pick me up at Alexis's?" she says as she dangles them in front of you.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. I'll cancel that date with, uh, that girl," you mumble as you take the keys. Michelle only flashes you a small, unamused smile, then puts the window back up. A moment later, she backs up, turns the car around, and pulls into the street. You watch as it slowly drives away.<br/>
<br/>
A minute later you slump onto the grass by the left front tire of Michelle's car.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's nothing else to do but to wait for Michelle's phone call, so you hang out by the school. She gives you plenty of time to think, but you find it hard to concentrate. It's not that you lack things to think about. You've too many things, in fact, on your mind. Michelle and Alexis. Chelsea. That girl you're supposed to have a date with. What's been happening at your house and with your friends over the last twenty-four hours. The mess with Gordon that still needs solving. What to do with the book. But like an algebra problem with too many variables, the very complexity baffles you into passivity.<br/>
<br/>
One job you do manage: You text Eileen and tell her that something came up and you won't be able to see her tonight. You profusely apologize for the late notice. <i>lol ok,</i> she says, which you suppose might mean anything from "LOL okay" to "Don't ever try texting me again, you dumbass." The feeling that you've slammed a door shut only increases when, to your suggestion that you get together on Sunday, she pleads other plans.<br/>
<br/>
As twilight deepens you pace the school grounds, and dip into the school basement long enough to retrieve the grimoire and the now-abandoned masks of Michelle and Alexis and yourself. You toy with putting the latter to your own face, just to see what will happen if you try wearing a mask of yourself, but decide that it's too risky. <br/>
<br/>
A feeling of dread gradually comes over you. How did you get yourself into this mess? Obviously, it started when you picked up that book at Arnholm's and brought it home. And yet everything that has happened since seems like a punishment out of all proportion to that small, initial act. You bought a magical grimoire, but then you got rid of it as soon as you could. It was Caleb who got you into this mess, you reflect (not for the first time) by goofing around with the book, and then Chelsea. Okay, so you went along with her on the idea of impersonating and replacing someone else—Alexis—but it's clear from what Chelsea did to Michelle that she was always going to do something monstrous with it. But you're left with the feeling that, even by trying to make things right by releasing Alexis and rescuing Michelle, you've somehow made them worse. Now four people, not just two (or three, if you count Caleb) know about the grimoire and what it can do, and they're not all of them friends with each other.<br/>
<br/>
You're not sure that any of them (including Caleb, considering how he used your face to attack Gordon and Chelsea) are even friends of <i>yours.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're still swimming murkily through these dark thoughts when your phone chimes with a text from Michelle: <i>come pick me up?</i> You send a brief acknowledgment, and clamber into her car.<br/>
<br/>
She's waiting out front of Alexis's when you drive up, but instead of climbing into the car she gestures you to park and get out. "We want to talk to you," she says as she leads you to the front door. Only with great effort do you prevent yourself from asking, like an idiot, <i>You mean you and Alexis?</i><br/>
<br/>
You pass Mrs. Lachance on the stairs as Michelle leads you up, and it feels very queer to be introduced to her after spending a night in her house while pretending to be her daughter. It's also very strange to be back in the house, as yourself, after the adventure last night.<br/>
<br/>
Alexis is in the game room, sitting on the leather sofa under the window with her legs tucked under her. She is still looking fragile, but she does look stronger. And she gives you a very direct look as you come in.<br/>
<br/>
"So," Michelle says as she relaxes onto the sofa next to Alexis. You look around, and pull up a stiff-backed chair from one of the game tables. "Alix and I were talking about what you said. About giving her a little vacation." She emphasizes the last word so that you can practically hear the scare quotes that surround it. "Do you still want to do that for her?"<br/>
<br/>
Even though it was your suggestion, you still feel shocked by the question. You look over at Alexis. Her eyes are very bright—almost unhealthily so, you think. They have the unwinking brightness of someone who is very desperate, or very afraid. It takes some effort to tear your glance away from hers.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, the thing is," you stammer, "I don't think Chelsea would go along with it."<br/>
<br/>
"Would Chelsea go along with what you did today?" Michelle asks with a calm bluntness. She point to herself and to Alexis.<br/>
<br/>
You have to shake your head.<br/>
<br/>
"Then why does she have to go along with what you could do for Alix?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>What </i>I<i> could do for Alexis?</i> you almost blurt out. Then you think, <i>That's right. I've got the grimoire and I've got the supplies. I could do it without Chelsea knowing. Except—</i><br/>
<br/>
"Except that if Alexis pretends to be someone else," you point out, "who pretends to be Alexis? I mean, there's one obvious answer," you continue, interrupting Michelle, who has opened her mouth to reply. "Chelsea is expecting <i>me</i> to be Alexis." You cast a very nervous glance at the girl in question. "But I don't think you want me doing that anymore."<br/>
<br/>
"There's a simpler way of handling things, don't you see?" Michelle says. She stares at you until you shake your head with bafflement. "Get rid of Chelsea," she explains.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Get rid of Chelsea?</i> The words seem meaningless.<br/>
<br/>
"What I'm talking about," Michelle continues, "is doing to Chelsea what she did to me. What you did to Alix." Your jaw slackens as her suggestion now becomes clear to you. "One of us becomes Chelsea," she goes on. "Or we just make her into one of those zombie things, like you said you did with me." She glances back at Alexis, who is still watching you with a glassy brightness. "Then we don't have to worry about what Chelsea thinks. And she'd deserve it anyway, don't you think?"</span></div></div>


path: 113122112122211212111121
author_id: seuzz
title: Counterstrike!
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You sink back in your chair and flick your eyes between Michelle and Alexis. They stare back at you.<br/>
<br/>
Both of them wear a very expectant look, but that's all they have in common. Alexis—small, thin, fragile—shows fear in her eyes. Fear that you'll say no? Or fear that you'll say yes? You still have enough of a sense of her personality (like a quickly evaporating residue) to guess at the terror and confusion she must feel at having so much arcane knowledge thrust at her in such a short time.<br/>
<br/>
But Michelle looks very calm. With her sitting beside Alexis you're reminded again of what a big girl she is, tall and well-proportioned with the muscles of an athlete. Her face is a little hard and her dirty-blonde hair is a little too flat for her to be conventionally beautiful, the way a cheerleader (like Chelsea) is supposed to be, and from your time as Alexis you think you can guess now why she's more popular with the junior class than the people her own age: She is dominating in a rather "motherly" way. There's nothing "motherly" about the sober expression she has turned on you now, but in a way that makes it worse. She looks more like a teacher than like one of your peers.<br/>
<br/>
And she's expecting you to say something.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I guess that makes sense," you stammer as you slump in your chair. "But, um—"<br/>
<br/>
"Awesome," Michelle declares in a very flat tone while holding your eye. "So what do we need to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Now, hang on," you protest. "This is—! This is a pretty big thing! We need ... Um ..."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes?" Michelle says after you trail off. "What do we need?"<br/>
<br/>
You lick your lips. "We need a couple of days. Like, to make the stuff," you lie. "And, uh, to talk about, uh—"<br/>
<br/>
"Talk about what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Talk about what we're going to do!"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle's lips twitch into a mirthless smile. "We're going to do to Chelsea what she did to us," she declares.<br/>
<br/>
You realize now that, under her very calm and adult demeanor, Michelle must be seething with anger and hatred of Chelsea Cooper.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, sure," you stammer, and start to tremble all over. "But for how long? And whatever Alix is going to do—" You glance at the girl. "How long is she going to be someone else?"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle glances at Alexis, who shrinks up.<br/>
<br/>
"Alix can decide that on her own," Michelle says. "And Chelsea—" Her gaze goes distant for a long, hanging moment. "Till the end of the year."<br/>
<br/>
You let out your breath, which you didn't realize you'd been holding. "Okay, that seems fair. Just a couple of months, then—"<br/>
<br/>
"End of the school year," Michelle says. <br/>
<br/>
Your mouth falls open. "Like, start of June?" you squeak.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," Michelle says. "I think that'll be good. It's her senior year. Probably the most important year of her life, to a girl like Chelsea." She lifts her chin. "I think she should lose it."<br/>
<br/>
A cold spot forms around your heart, and you feel your breath laboring. <i>Yeah, Michelle must really hate Chelsea.</i><br/>
<br/>
"What about you?" Michelle says, and her voice jerks you back into the moment. "What are your plans?"<br/>
<br/>
"Mine?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Isn't that one of the big things you think we should talk about, think about?"<br/>
<br/>
"My plans?" you repeat.<br/>
<br/>
"You wanted to turn yourself into another person. You changed your mind about Alix. But maybe there's someone else?"<br/>
<br/>
Dizziness washes over you. You had more or less assumed (now that you think of it) that putting Alexis and Michelle back to normal would spell the end of your adventures. Certainly you didn't expect that Michelle would be <i>suggesting</i> that you steal <i>another</i> person's life.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I hadn't thought about it," you confess.<br/>
<br/>
"Then think about it. How long will it take you to get things ready?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. A couple of days?" Your head is too much in a whirl to say anything else.<br/>
<br/>
"Can we do anything to help speed things up? Can you get started tonight?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tomorrow," you croak. "After church. I have to use that basement to make the stuff."<br/>
<br/>
And that's more or less all that gets said before Michelle dismisses you. But you do finally get a chance to speak to Alexis before you're shooed out the door.<br/>
<br/>
It has been bothering you, naturally, that although Alexis can look at you, she won't speak to you, and lets Michelle do all the talking. It makes sense, you suppose. In her place, you probably wouldn't want to talk to the person who had stolen your life and trapped you under an alias and given you a twenty-four-hour case of amnesia. But <i>you</i> have to talk to her, before you can feel like you've truly squared accounts.<br/>
<br/>
You get your chance when Alexis, with a murmur, excuses herself to go downstairs, and after a moment's hesitation you ask Michelle where the restroom is. But instead of heading in the indicated direction, you run down the stairs to find Alexis in the kitchen, where she is pouring herself some kale juice.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, Alexis," you gasp out to her. "I just wanted to tell you, face to face, that I'm really sorry about what I did, and that I really do want to make things up to you."<br/>
<br/>
She gives you the same bright, slightly vacant smile that she's been giving you all evening. "Okay," she says.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Is that all?</i> you wonder with a wince. "Are we going to be okay? You and me? Because I, uh—" You can't think of a way to finish that sentence.<br/>
<br/>
Alexis smiles at you some more, then glances over her shoulder. "Talk to me when this is done," she says. "After I'm— And you're—" Her nostrils flare over her widening smile. "You know. It'll be easier to talk when it's ... someone else."<br/>
<br/>
And with that puzzling remark she turns her back on you and leaves the kitchen.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
But was the remark so puzzling? You think about it as you toss and turn in your bed that night.<br/>
<br/>
It was obviously really hard for Alexis to look at <i>you,</i> the person who briefly stole her life. Probably it would have been hard for anyone, even someone made of sterner stuff. But it must have been especially trying for Alexis, who you know from your brief stint is very easy to rattle.<br/>
<br/>
But if she could look at you <i>as</i> another person, while herself <i>being</i> another person ... and if that ability came as a gift from you and with your help ...<br/>
<br/>
You turn onto your side and curl up with embarrassment as your cock begins to engorge.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Chelsea talked you into turning yourself into Alexis so that you could find yourself a girlfriend. After Alexis turns herself into another girl, could you turn yourself into a guy who could be her—?</i><br/>
<br/>
You turn onto your front and bury your face in your pillow. It seems an impossible thought, even a nasty one.<br/>
<br/>
And yet it won't go away.<br/>
<br/>
It torments you still as you slither into the coils of sleep, coming as flashes of fantasy: You talking to a girl who sometimes looks like Alexis Lachance and sometimes looks like someone else. But whoever she is looking like, she still has Alexis's smile.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
If nothing else, Alexis's comment has provoked you into making quick work of the masks you promised. You had told her and Michelle, as a temporizing move, that it would take you several days to make up masks to use against Chelsea. But after a night of thinking about it, you decide you want to get it done fast, so as to bring yourself to that reconciliation with Alexis that she hinted at.<br/>
<br/>
You have at the school basement just enough supplies to make two more masks, and you will only need a few hours after church in order to finish them up. You are working at the first memory strips for one of them when a text comes from Michelle: <i>Chelsea is asking me questions. What should I say to her?</i><br/>
<br/>
Instead of texting back, you call her directly. "What kind of questions is she asking you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Stuff about Cindy and the Garners," she replies. "It's like she thinks I spent this morning with them."<br/>
<br/>
"Probably because she thinks you did," you reply after a moment's thought. "She thinks you're that fake you, and she probably gave, uh, 'you' some orders, probably to spy on those girls."<br/>
<br/>
"So what am I supposed to do?" she asks in a voice that sounds very tight.<br/>
<br/>
"Ask if you can meet her. Up at the gym loft," you add, for you're thinking very quickly. "Tell her that I'm coming too, because we've got some things to talk to her about in, uh, my case."<br/>
<br/>
"What case is that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just tell her that, she'll understand, she'll think it's about us finding me a girlfriend. You're supposed to be helping me with that." Michelle makes no reply. "We should meet her because I'll have the stuff done, to do the thing to her, tonight."<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you said—"<br/>
<br/>
"I know what I said, but it turns out I had more of the stuff prepped than I thought, so we can cover it. Are you still up for it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Definitely." Her voice hardens.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, then text that to Chelsea, then text me." Your own heart is beating fast. "Let's get this done." You hang up and wipe the sweat from your brow.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Good job," you tell Michelle as you lower Chelsea onto the old gym mat. "I don't think she saw it coming." Michelle smiles at your compliment.<br/>
<br/>
"We can put my mask on her for now," you continue, "just as soon as we finish copying her. But someone will need to put on her mask and go home as her."<br/>
<br/>
"I will," Michelle says. "I'll take over for her."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe Alexis will want to be Chelsea?" you suggest.<br/>
<br/>
"She's picked someone else. I pick Chelsea."</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121222112121111213
author_id: seuzz
title: Flipping a Cheerleader
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's Sunday evening, but it's already dark. Chelsea was happy—almost eager—to meet you and Michelle up in the gym loft, and you'd had to put her off just a little bit, so that you could meet with Michelle and set up the ambush. You can't believe it went off so easily.<br/>
<br/>
"Will."<br/>
<br/>
You jump a little. Michelle has knelt next to Chelsea and is frowning up at you. "I said," she says, "is anyone going to interrupt us up here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh, I don't think so. Chelsea always clears the schedule to make sure we're alone when we talk. Except for Gordon," you add. "Shit."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle raises an eyebrow. "Could he show up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Might. I dunno. But what I'm thinking is—" You chew your lip. "I told you that he had that accident? That he's not really Gordon anymore, he's one of those robot things?" Michelle nods. "He's supposed to obey Chelsea." You look down at the head cheerleader; Michelle  has been arranging her hair and limbs so she doesn't look quite so much like a crumpled doll. "What happens after we replace her?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll be Chelsea, right?" Michelle says. "So he'll obey me, won't  he?"<br/>
<br/>
You can only shrug. What she says makes sense, but you can't shake the feeling that things might not work that way. But you swallow your doubts and change the  subject: "Should we get Alexis out here?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why?" Michelle returns to arranging Chelsea. "This doesn't have to do with her."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, who's she going to be? Who did she pick?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is that your business?"<br/>
<br/>
"If I'm going to help out, like I did here, I should know." Michelle makes no reply. "Is it one of Chelsea's friends?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's one of Alix's friends. Well, not a friend, exactly," Michelle corrects herself as she unbuttons Chelsea's top. "Someone she knows."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm going to get a disguise too, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why do you need one?" Michelle continues to concentrate on Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
You feel yourself on the verge of totally losing your command of the situation. It's like Michelle has taken over completely—the way Chelsea took over completely—and is going to start bossing you around.<br/>
<br/>
So you drop down next to her.<br/>
<br/>
"Listen," you hiss. "I didn't have to help you or Alix out. I could have left you where you were. And even after I helped you out, I didn't have to help you here with Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
Now Michelle looks up at you, her eyes wide with surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm the one who found that book," you continue, "and figured out how this stuff works. If I want to use it to make a mask and turn myself into someone else, I think I have a fucking right to."<br/>
<br/>
For a moment Michelle says nothing, but only stares at you.<br/>
<br/>
But her tone is soft when she replies. "I wasn't arguing with you, Will," she says. "You can do whatever you want, I guess. I won't get in the way. Alix won't either. I was just asking why you wanted to need to turn yourself into someone else." She gives you a brief look up and down. "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with you."<br/>
<br/>
Words get stuck in your throat. Did Michelle just pay you a compliment?<br/>
<br/>
"Well," you stammer, "I don't <i>need</i> to. But the whole reason I was, you know, pretending to be someone else—" <i>Pretending to be Alexis</i> "—was so I could find someone who maybe I could ask out, go out with."<br/>
<br/>
"What happened to that date you were supposed to have last night?"<br/>
<br/>
You twitch. Michelle is right. You don't <i>have</i> the old excuse anymore, not if you're <i>turning down girls who ask you out!</i><br/>
<br/>
"I skipped it, cancelled it, to help you out! But maybe I still want to do that thing me and Chelsea were going to do, where I use this stuff to figure out someone I can ask out." You feel a flush of shame rising up your neck at that very needy and insecure confession. "Someone who I <i>know</i> would be a good fit for me."<br/>
<br/>
Again, Michelle looks you up and down, and for a hanging moment you think she's going to pay you some other compliment: <i>Oh, you don't have to worry about anything like that, Will,</i> or <i>Just ask a girl out, Will, it's sure to work out.</i> But she only shrugs. "Knock yourself out."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm still thinking about doing it down in the junior class," you continue. "So who is Alexis—?"<br/>
<br/>
Downstairs, a door slams, and you and Michelle jerk upright and glance at the loft door. Then you look at each other, your eyes mirroring surprise and fear.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll go see who it is," you say as you stand up. "As soon as the mask comes out of Chelsea, put that mask of me on her. It'll be kind of funny if there's two of me up here, but it's better than having Chelsea like this."<br/>
<br/>
"Should I move her, hide her?" Michelle asks.<br/>
<br/>
"If you can manage," you say as you open the door and out of the loft. <i>Don't let it be Patterson,</i> you pray as you descend the steps. <i>Don't let it be Patterson.</i><br/>
<br/>
It isn't, but Gordon Black isn't much of a welcome sight, either. He looks like a shaven grizzly bear that's been put in athletic shorts and a tank top, and as he scowls up at you from the bottom of the steps, he looks like one, too.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, hey," you stammer. "Chelsea didn't tell me you'd be coming out here, too."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, here I fucking am," he retorts, and sets a heavy foot on the bottom stair. "She up there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Uh, did she call you, ask you to come out?"<br/>
<br/>
"What fucking business is it of yours?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, she just threw me out of the loft. She's with someone. Uh, I don't think she wants you up there."<br/>
<br/>
Your heart pounds as Gordon pauses on the bottommost step and looks past you up to the loft door. Then with a heavy shrug he descends the steps. You follow.<br/>
<br/>
"So the fuck is going on up there?" Gordon asks when you're both down on the gym floor. He glares around the dark and dingy basketball court.<br/>
<br/>
"She's up there with a friend. Well, with Michelle Estrich."<br/>
<br/>
"They eating other out?"<br/>
<br/>
"What? No! I don't think so. Michelle is, um—" You're not sure how much Gordon knows about what kind of thing he is, or that there might be others like him. "Michelle is doing some favors for Chelsea, and she came up here to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever." Gordon trudges off and disappears through the black entrance to the changing rooms. When he returns, he has a basketball. He drills it on the floor a couple of times, and turns a skeptical eye on you. "You know how to do anything with one of these?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, sure. Back in middle school, I— Oof!" You stagger back under the blow as the heavy rubber ball hits you in the chest. "But I'm not good enough to play against you!"<br/>
<br/>
"No fucking shit, but that ain't what I asked. Try to get it past me and into that basket back there." He jerks his head at the basket behind him.<br/>
<br/>
You gulp, nod, and bounce the ball. <br/>
<br/>
And as you try to drive the ball past him, he with an almost casual ease reaches out and takes it from you in mid-dribble. From the middle of the court, he sends it in a graceful arc to swish through the net opposite.<br/>
<br/>
"Go get it," he says. "Hustle."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
A very long and humiliating half hour passes: long enough for you to start panicking at Michelle's non-appearance. <i>Ten minutes to copy Chelsea,</i> you figure silently. <i>Say, fifteen minutes to change into her and her clothes? So what's taking so long?</i> And between these despairing calculations, Gordon pushes, bullies and insults your skills without once letting you get close to the basket he's guarding.<br/>
<br/>
The score is somewhere between two hundred and three hundred to nothing when you finally hear footsteps from the direction of the loft stairs, and you and Gordon pause as a very pale and pinch-faced Chelsea Cooper appears. Her eyes dart between the two of you. "Hey, pookie," she calls out. "What are you doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"Waiting for you. You done?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not really." More firmly, she adds, "I want you to go home."<br/>
<br/>
Silence. At first it is merely a cool silence. Then your skin prickles as it becomes very cold.<br/>
<br/>
Gordon bounces the basketball once. "She wants me to," he says, addressing the rafters. "Are you <i>telling</i> me to?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea darts you a squinting glance. "Yes," she says. "Go home."<br/>
<br/>
But Gordon doesn't move, not right away. Instead, he bounces the ball three more times off the floor. The blows echo around the gym.<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever you say, Chels," he says at last, and trudges off toward the side door exit. "Text me next time you want something."<br/>
<br/>
You hold your breath, and you bet Chelsea—Michelle—is holding hers. Gordon's insolent manner leaves you quivering with dread.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't like that," you tell the new Chelsea. "That was very weird."<br/>
<br/>
"Never mind him," she says. "I've got problems here. Aren't these things supposed to have the memories inside them?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm not getting anything." Her lips compress into a line.</span></div></div>


path: 11312211212221121211112131
author_id: seuzz
title: A Girl Who Remembers Nothing
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What do you mean you're getting nothing?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not getting any memories or anything," replies the girl who looks like Chelsea Cooper. <br/>
<br/>
At least, physically she looks like Chelsea. She has Chelsea's long, softly curled, honey-blonde hair, and her large blue eyes, and the kewpie mouth set between cherubic cheeks. She has Chelsea's small frame and large breasts and strong thighs. <br/>
<br/>
But the expression is wrong. Though she looks grim and more than a little aggravated, it's a much emptier and less angry glare than you're used to seeing on the head cheerleader's face. Her gaze is more distant, too.<br/>
<br/>
In a passing flash, you can almost see Michelle's own face behind Chelsea's, as though the latter were a tinted mask of glass set over Michelle's own.<br/>
<br/>
"So, like, what <i>do</i> you remember? That Chelsea would know?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"That's what I'm telling you, Will, I'm not getting anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Her phone number? Her address? Her parents' names?" Michelle shakes her head. "Her brother's name?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's got a brother?"<br/>
<br/>
Your knees weaken. "When we went up into the loft, and Chelsea was waiting for us, do you remember what happened? I mean, from her point of view?"<br/>
<br/>
"I remember what it looked like to me," Michelle says. "But not what it looked like to Chelsea." She bites her lip. "I have no idea what Chelsea was doing before she came up here."<br/>
<br/>
You squint at the door that Gordon exited through. <i>Maybe I should put on Gordon's mask,</i> you think to yourself. <i>Help Michelle out while pretending to be her boyfriend, if this turns out to be a serious problem.</i> Instead, you question her about the mask, and what she did with it while you were downstairs with Gordon.<br/>
<br/>
"I did exactly like you said," she tells you. "When it came off Chelsea, I put that mask of you onto her. He's upstairs waiting for us now. And then," she continues as you pull at your lip, "I put all that stuff inside Chelsea's mask, and put it on. When I woke up I was a little confused about where I was, but got it all figured out. It was only when I looked at her texts that I realized I didn't have any idea what they meant."<br/>
<br/>
You chew this over, then gesture her to follow you back up to the loft, where you lock yourselves in. A naked guy who looks like you is there, and he watches with a hooded curiosity as you gesture Michelle onto the gym mat and remove the mask from her. (She unbuttons her clothes first, so that she doesn't burst out of Chelsea's smaller things.) "What's going on?" your doppelganger asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm checking out the mask," you murmur back. It looks like it's supposed to. The inner surface is gray with that special goop you made up for this mask and for Michelle's, and Chelsea's name floats in blue letters over the surface. "Did Michelle say anything to you about having trouble with Chelsea's memories?"<br/>
<br/>
"She didn't tell me anything, 'cept to wait up here."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, let me try something." You point to the floor. "I'm going to switch masks out on you." The fake looks dubious until you add, "It's okay. I'm just troubleshooting stuff."<br/>
<br/>
So with a sigh your double drops to the floor. He mutters something under her breath that sounds like, "This day just gets weirder and weirder."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So the memories are all in there?" Michelle asks with a frown. You nod. "Then how come I can't—?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, Michelle," you confess, and glance over at the Chelsea Cooper who stands in a far corner. "Unless the problem's on your side, somehow."<br/>
<br/>
That's all you can figure. There's no way for <i>you</i> to put on the mask, for it's constructed to put its wearer under Michelle's control. But you set it onto Chelsea herself and questioned the apparition that resulted while squatting over her to hold the struggling girl down. She acted just like Chelsea would have, and cussed you out hard while churlishly answering enough questions to indicate that the fake, at least, knows all about who Chelsea is and what she herself knows. Then she turned docile—resentful but docile—when Michelle woke up and started questioning her herself.<br/>
<br/>
"So what do we do?" Michelle asks. She looks over at the fake Chelsea. "I guess as long as she does whatever I tell her to, I don't have to, uh, <i>be</i> her."<br/>
<br/>
<i>But it would be safest if you were,</i> you think. "I think you should change back into the mask," you say aloud. "These things, I'm not sure I trust them when they're out by themselves. Chelsea over there seems pretty pissed off about all this. If we sent her home, and she decided to say something to her boyfriend—"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't think I can pass myself off as her with her family," Michelle objects. "Not without having, like, her memories and stuff."<br/>
<br/>
"Then how about we go hang out someplace," you suggest. "Until it's late enough that you can go straight to bed after you get home."<br/>
<br/>
"And tomorrow? At school?" Michelle lifts an eyebrow.<br/>
<br/>
"We can see then. Maybe something will happen tonight, when you're asleep," you suggest without much hope. "Maybe something will click."<br/>
<br/>
Michelle continues to look skeptical, but with a crook of her finger summons the sulky head cheerleader over.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It takes awhile to get organized. First, you have to use a second mask to make a second copy of Michelle, and seal it up with a layer of paste that puts it under her control, and put that onto Chelsea in place of your mask. Then she has to change back to Chelsea's mask and clothes. When that's all done, she suggests that you decamp for a nearby Starbucks, but you remember Chelsea's remarks about how odd it would be for her to be seen in public with people like you. So after a bit of back-and-forthing, you wind up at The Hamboree, an all-night diner. It looks like you've judged right, for when you get there you find that the four customers and the waitress are all over sixty. You and Michelle huddle in a corner booth.<br/>
<br/>
"So, I don't think we really know each other," you tell her after you've got a couple of coffees.<br/>
<br/>
With her eyes downcast Michelle doesn't look or act much like Chelsea Cooper. "Well, I'm new in town," she says. "No reason you should."<br/>
<br/>
"But you made friends with Alexis and her friends. Pretty fast, it seems like."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I kind of got off on the wrong foot with people in the senior class."<br/>
<br/>
"Like how?"<br/>
<br/>
She nurses from her cup between her hands and looks out the window. "I don't know," she says. "Did you go to the cheerleader tryouts? Just before school started? It seemed like everyone was there."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Um, I know you were there, 'cos you made it onto the squad." Michelle nods. "So, you were new in town, and the first thing you did was try out for the cheerleader squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was on the squad back at my old school. I'm good. I know I'm good, even though no one here will say so." Her expression tightens. It's another odd look to see on Chelsea's face: anger being suppressed instead of erupting furiously outward. "I thought it would be a good way to meet people."<br/>
<br/>
"And it wasn't?"<br/>
<br/>
She lifts her cup, and pauses. "I made it onto the squad, and it seems like I pissed off half the school when I did."<br/>
<br/>
"How come?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," she sighs. "I never did figure out, and no one would tell me. Chelsea picked me, and everyone thought I was going to be one of her friends. Part of her circle. Then I found out what she was like, and the way she treated her friends. Found out there were—"<br/>
<br/>
She breaks off, and now a very un-Chelsea-like fear shows in her eyes. "Found out there were <i>side benefits</i> to being in her group. Side benefits for me, but side benefits for other people, too. I didn't want them, though. So Chelsea dropped me. But no one else wanted to be my friend by then, it seems like. I was spoiled fruit." Her eyes burn briefly.<br/>
<br/>
The fire fades, though, as she takes a sip from her cup. "But I met Alexis and her friends. They didn't care about that stuff, it didn't have anything to do with them. And Roman and Justin and Scott don't care for Gordon and his friends anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"Those guys are on the JV squad, right?"<br/>
<br/>
She gives you a hard, direct look. "You know that, Will. You got to know them, didn't you?"<br/>
<br/>
"For one night," you reply, reddening. "But I don't really remember the stuff I knew when I was, uh, doing the Alexis thing."<br/>
<br/>
"The Alexis thing," Michelle echoes. "Is that what we're calling it? You were doing 'the Alexis thing,' now I'm doing 'the Chelsea thing'? And Alexis will be doing the—" She doesn't finish the sentence.<br/>
<br/>
"So who is Alexis going to be, uh, doing the thing as?" you ask. "I mean, is it a secret? You keep not telling me." A thought occurs to you. "It's not one of her friends, is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not a <i>friend</i> friend," Michelle says. "And it's not a <i>secret</i>, I guess. But I like to keep my friends' confidences, and I don't know if she wants me telling you."<br/>
<br/>
<i>I like to keep my friends' confidences.</i> You start a little at the near repetition of the words the fake Michelle gave you yesterday, when telling you about some mutual friends.<br/>
<br/>
"But I'm going to help you out with that, right?" you say. "When it's time to do the switch? I'll find out then anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"That's true," Michelle admits. You tense with anticipation, for it sounds like she is about to break down and share it with you. Unbidden, fantasies come welling up, of nuzzling up with Alexis in her disguise.<br/>
<br/>
"It's a guy named Joshua Swan," Michelle says. "He's on the football team with some of Alix's friends."</span></div></div>


path: 113122112122211212111121311
author_id: seuzz
title: Who a Girl Wants
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It takes a moment for Michelle's words to register. When they do sink in, they almost jolt you out of your seat.<br/>
<br/>
"A guy?" you exclaim, then drop your voice when Michelle shoots you a quick, hard frown. "A guy?" you repeat in a near whisper, and lean forward across the table. "Alexis wants to be a <i>guy?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Something wrong with being a guy, Will?"<br/>
<br/>
Obviously, the question is rhetorical, and even if it wasn't, any answer would still sound weird.<br/>
<br/>
But not as weird as the answer Michelle has given you. <i>The very petite and feminine Alexis Lachance wants to swap bodies with a football player named—</i><br/>
<br/>
"So who is this guy?" you ask. "Joshua—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Joshua Swan. Here." She takes out her phone, then pauses to stare at it with a frown. Well might she. For though she looks like Chelsea Cooper, and it is Chelsea's phone, it belongs to a stranger. "I'll see if I can find a picture of him online."<br/>
<br/>
"Why is she picking him?" you ask as Michelle scrolls a fingertip over the cell phone screen.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not really sure."<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't you ask her when you talked to her about him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't push her. But you're the one who suggested maybe she could be someone who's healthy. Joshua looks like he's healthy."<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. <i>There's a girls' basketball squad,</i> you want to say, <i>a girls' soccer squad, a swim team, a tennis team, and track. So many girls to pick from. Why a guy?</i> But aloud, you only say, "Does she have a crush on him or something?"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle favors you with a quick glance from under her brows, and for a moment she really does look like Chelsea. "Wouldn't <i>you</i> know the answer to that question?"<br/>
<br/>
You grimace. You <i>told</i> her you don't remember much anymore about Alexis's life, so why won't she believe you? But you're pretty sure the name "Joshua Swan" never crossed your mind while it was merged with Alexis's. <br/>
<br/>
"Ungh. Here." Michelle gives you the phone. "That's him."<br/>
<br/>
Well, it's not the kind of meaty, hulking, beetle-browed asshole you naturally pictured when you heard "football player." It's hard to tell how big Joshua Swan is, but the bicep that shows in the photo doesn't look that much brawnier than your own.<br/>
<br/>
And <i>He's cute,</i> you think, then wince a little. But it's true. He's the kind of guy that most girls, you suppose, would call "cute," for he has large eyes and regular, unblemished features under a tangle of brown hair. His gaze is very serious, as though he's been caught in mid-thought, and he's entirely missing the "jock leer" that you're familiar with. You find yourself wondering if this is a recent picture. For though Joshua Swan doesn't look very young—he <i>looks</i> about your age—but he's so small he looks more like a middle- or even an elementary-school kid who's been overloaded with football gear and is soberly trying to live up to the costume. <br/>
<br/>
"He seems kind of little to be a football player," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"He's a running back," Michelle says. When you give her a blank look, she says, "You don't know a lot about football, do you?"<br/>
<br/>
You blush. "Not the technical stuff."<br/>
<br/>
"They don't all have to be big guys. The running backs just have to be able to catch and carry a ball without being caught. It's okay if you're small as long as you're quick and good at dodging. Joshua's pretty good at that. At least, that's what Alec and Julian say."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh." <i>Still,</i> you wonder, <i>why this guy? And why a guy at all?</i> "Is Alexis going to be able to get him alone?" you ask. "Like we got Chelsea alone?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." Michelle settles back in her seat. "Maybe we should get with her to talk about it."<br/>
<br/>
Your pulse quickens as she starts tapping into her phone.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Alexis is surprisingly quick to join you, and when she does your heart aches to see that she's got the same bright but sickly glow as she had yesterday. "Hey," she greets you and Michelle in a faint voice, then steps back and covers her mouth and nose as Chelsea Cooper stands up to greet her. "Oh my God," she murmurs.<br/>
<br/>
Michelle smiles and puts out an arm. "Hey, how are you doing?" she asks, and pulls Alexis (stiff and unyielding) into an awkward embrace. "You want something? Our treat."<br/>
<br/>
Alexis shakes her head as she falls into the booth. She smiles at you, but it's glassy. "So, um, I guess it went off okay with—" Her throat quivers as she swallows. "Chelsea?"<br/>
<br/>
"Mostly," Michelle shares a quick glance with you. "But we  wanted to talk to you about you and, uh, Joshua. You know, we had to get Chelsea by herself before we could, uh, do the thing with her," she continues. "It'll have to be the same thing with Joshua. Do you think you can get him to come out by himself somewhere?"<br/>
<br/>
Alexis sucks in a quick, sharp breath. "I wouldn't know what to do!" she squeaks. "I don't know how to do the thing with the—! You know!"<br/>
<br/>
"We'd be there with you," you assure her. "What Chels— What Michelle means is, could you get this guy to meet you by himself? No one comes with him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know." Alexis's voice is breathless. "I don't— Maybe Michelle could manage it?" She swallows again. "I mean, if the head cheerleader asked him out to her house, I bet he'd go!"<br/>
<br/>
Michelle gives you an inquiring glance.<br/>
<br/>
But you've seen an opening, and you seize it.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, is there someone else, someone who's really good friends with this guy?" You lean across the table. "Someone who— Well, if <i>I</i> was that person— I mean, if I was disguised as Joshua's friend, then I could help you get to this guy."<br/>
<br/>
"Will wants to do the same thing we're doing," Michelle explains.<br/>
<br/>
Alexis suddenly looks very frightened. <br/>
<br/>
"Not one of your friends!" you hastily assure Alexis. "Just someone who knows this Joshua guy, and who could ..." Your voice fails.<br/>
<br/>
"Will," Michelle says as a very awkward silence ensues. "Maybe you should go move your truck? Drive around the block a couple of times until you find a new parking place?"<br/>
<br/>
It's just about the most pointed cue you've ever gotten, but you're shamefully eager to escape the frozen expression of horror that Alexis has turned on you. As you hurry out the door, you glance back to see Michelle, her arm around Alexis, in a quiet and intense conference.<br/>
<br/>
And as you drive around town, you wonder if it would be safer and wiser to remain yourself. Or, at least, to remain yourself as far as Alexis is concerned.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You've not been circling the city's business district for nearly half an hour when Michelle (from Chelsea's number) signals that you should return. You're not surprised to find both girls standing at the diner's entrance; nor are you surprised when, as you approach, Alexis gives Michelle a quick, hard hug and scampers away while only giving you a breathy "Bye!" as she passes. "Everything okay?" you ask Michelle.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. I told her what you wanted to do—the 'find a girlfriend' thing—and how it could also help her out. She said she'd think about it and talk to you with some suggestions." She sniffs—an almost Chelsea-like sound. "You're welcome."<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks. But she didn't say anything about why she wanted to be this Joshua guy, did she?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, and I didn't ask." Michelle looks past you; you look over your shoulder, and see that Alexis's car hasn't moved. "I'm getting a whole flood of texts from Kendra Saunders and Gloria Rea suddenly. I <i>think</i> I can handle them. At least, I want to try, see how much I can fake my way through this, so I'm going to go. But will you be available later, if I decide I want to—?" She clutches her face with both hands, and kneads it. "Thanks," she says when you nod, and moves off toward her car. But she walks very slowly, and casts a couple of glances back at Alexis's car.<br/>
<br/>
You shuffle slowly back to your own truck, so that Michelle has left before you've even got the keys in the ignition. You're about to turn the motor over when you're distracted by a tentative honk, then by a stronger one. You look over to see Alexis gesturing frantically at you to come over. Her window is down by the time you trot over to her.<br/>
<br/>
"So Michelle told me what it was all about," she says, and her smile, though still brittle, has a flashing hardness to it. "You wanting to be some other, um, girl."<br/>
<br/>
You actually weren't thinking <i>girl</i> specifically. But you nod.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. And how it would help me out too." Alexis lifts her chin. "So you were asking me yesterday if we were going to be okay, you and me. Is this part of you trying to make things okay with me?" Her chin tilts further.<br/>
<br/>
<i>This is not the time to give a fuck-around answer,</i> you tell yourself. And as soberly and sincerely as you can manage, you nod.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay." Alexis starts ticking off her fingers. "So you're going to do this to help me get to Joshua, and to help you get yourself a girlfriend. Do something else for me, and I think we can be okay with each other."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" you say, and your heart sinks a little.<br/>
<br/>
"You mean, Yeah, you understand, or Yeah, you'll do the thing for me?"<br/>
<br/>
Your mouth is dry as you say, "I'll do the thing."<br/>
<br/>
"Good!" Alexis laughs. "Now I just have to figure out what that thing will be!" She rolls up her window, turns the motor over, and pulls out of the parking space.</span></div></div>


path: 11312211212221121212
author_id: seuzz
title: Not My Circus
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Oh God! Oh Jesus!</i> It was a fake that you were shopping with this afternoon? It was a fake you were <i>this close</i> to spilling out all your secrets and insecurities to?<br/>
<br/>
Michelle isn't Michelle? She's one of those robot things that you make with a mask? You gape at her.<br/>
<br/>
She looks back blankly at you. Well, maybe not entirely blankly. There's a glint of faint curiosity in her eye. But she doesn't look much interested in you or in what Chelsea has said. Mostly she looks tired.<br/>
<br/>
"How long?" you ask Chelsea when you find your breath and your voice again. "How long has, um, Michelle been—" You gulp, and wave your hand in front of your face.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, a couple of days now, I guess," Chelsea says.<br/>
<br/>
"Last night?" you gasp, and go cold all over when Chelsea nods. It comes back vividly, that talk you and Michelle had in the kitchen: Michelle cradling you, and comforting you, and telling you that you've nothing to be afraid of and that you've got to live your life without being afraid that it will end suddenly. Such sweet, warm wisdom ... and all coming from a fake who is under Chelsea's control!<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach turns over.<br/>
<br/>
"Now, you girls were hanging out together," Chelsea continue, and you flinch as she grasps your wrist and fake-Michelle's both. "What were you doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"We were at Le Metropolitain," Michelle instantly replies, "talking about friends."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes?" Chelsea says. Her eyes glint. "Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"James Randolph and Tanya Firth."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea frowns. "I don't know them."<br/>
<br/>
"No reason you should," Michelle says with cool indifference. "He's a sophomore, she's a junior. They're sleeping together."<br/>
<br/>
"Sleeping together?" you squeal.<br/>
<br/>
"Casually. I guess it's a casual thing," Michelle continues. She turns to Chelsea, even though Chelsea hasn't said anything. "They do it at her place a couple of times a week, on account of her parents have work. She says he's pretty good in the sack, even though he was a virgin when they first—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, I'm not that interested," Chelsea snaps.<br/>
<br/>
"You told me you wanted me to tell you everything—"<br/>
<br/>
"Until I tell you to stop, and now I'm telling you stop." Chelsea turns to you with a giggle. "Isn't it amazing? I'm so glad you showed me how to—"<br/>
<br/>
"Why did you do this to Michelle, of all people?" you shriek. "And why are you telling <i>me</i> about this?"<br/>
<br/>
"So we can coordinate through her. Dur!" Chelsea rolls her eyes. "I'm not really friends with this girl you're pretending to be, you know." She tweaks the front of your blouse. "I probably wouldn't be, either. She seems a little neurotic, tee-bee-aitch. You could stand to dial it back a little, Will, when it's just us. Anyway," she continues as you goggle back at her, speechless, "anything you have to talk about to me, you can pass on through Michelle here."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that why you—? Her?" Again, you wave your hand in front of your face.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Well, kind of. Mostly? Don't worry about it, Will. You knew it was going to be someone, right? This way it just works out perfectly."<br/>
<br/>
And as you grasp at some kind of reply, she looks between you and Michelle, then tweaks your blouse again. "Michelle doesn't really know you, she tells me," she says. "Not the real you, I mean, Will. But maybe you could make some introductions, and she could get to know you, and then maybe you and her could work together to figure out your girlfriend situation?"<br/>
<br/>
You gulp, and to your own surprise find yourself nodding.<br/>
<br/>
"That's great!" Chelsea says. "So, I think that's all we have to talk about. Unless you've got some other news already you want to share?" Her eyebrows go up, and her gaze turns twinkly.<br/>
<br/>
"No. No, I think that's all." Your knees start to shake.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay then!" Chelsea coils up the garden hose. "I have to talk to Michelle now. If you think of anything or need anything, text or call her from now on." She dimples at you. "You'll get along great. I'll make sure that Michelle will <i>like</i> Will Prescott and want to help him. If she doesn't, let me know."<br/>
<br/>
At least you make it home without vomiting inside the car.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It makes a grotesque kind of sense, you decide, when you're back in your bedroom, huddled up on the bed. You were pretty sure that Chelsea was going to use that mask and that goop on another cheerleader—probably Lin or Yumi or some other girl who was always causing trouble for her. Michelle, you know from Alexis's memories, doesn't make trouble for Chelsea, but she could be useful as a spy. And as Chelsea herself pointed out, she's a convenient conduit for passing messages along between yourself and her.<br/>
<br/>
But as the afternoon wears on you find yourself getting used to the idea. Chelsea is in charge, and she was right this morning when she reminded you that the plan is to get you a girlfriend. She was also right when she told you that you were letting Alexis do your thinking for you. Michelle is Alexis's friend, not yours, and the quivering horror that you feel in your gut is Alexis's horror, not yours, at seeing her friend turned into an automaton. <br/>
<br/>
"Alexis Krystal Lachance," you address yourself in the mirror, and fix yourself with a good, hard stare. "You are not the boss of me. I am the boss of <i>you.</i> Sure, I'll hang out with your friends and do things with them, and I'll—" You can't help shaking a little bit when a vivid, almost three-dimensional mental picture of a shirtless Roman Robey pops into your head. "And I'll even act like them with you," you continue after catching your breath. "But I'm here to do my own thing. And you're just a disguise I'm wearing to help me do it. So get off my tail."<br/>
<br/>
The girl in the mirror doesn't look terribly certain of her words as she mouths them back at you. But fuck her. You've got a meeting to set up.<br/>
<br/>
Still, your fingers slip and hit multiple typos as you start to tap out a message to the "Will Prescott" who is the current owner of your old phone. Alexis isn't used to texting strange guys out of the blue.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Will!" you call out to the lanky scarecrow after he comes sauntering into the Starbucks. It's not Alexis's usual kind of coffee hangout, but that's why you chose it for this meeting: Like The Shoppes on the other side of town, you're not likely to run into Alexis's friends here for this secret rendezvous.<br/>
<br/>
Prescott turns around at his name and squints at you. <i>He looks like he's twelve years old,</i> you think, and flinch at the thought. <i>This is the guy you're supposed to find a girlfriend for? A slope-shouldered goofball in baggy tees and shorts with unkempt hair sticking out from under a shapeless ball cap?</i> <br/>
<br/>
As if he's reading your thoughts, Prescott pulls his cap off, rakes long fingers through that thatch of hair, and jams the cap back down over it. "Are you the chick I'm supposed to be meeting?" he asks as he saunters up to your table.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Chick?</i> Since when do you call girls "chicks"? That's totally a Tilley kind of thing to say!<br/>
<br/>
Well, whatever. Maybe he's just as nervous as you are. "You know me," you retort. "Alexis Lachance." You put out a hand, but instead of shaking it, he slaps it as he tumbles into the chair opposite. "Do you remember reading up on me and my social media?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." That squint of his narrows. "Um, am I supposed to still be reading up on that stuff? Because I kind of have the feeling that I have to do what you tell me." He makes a face.<br/>
<br/>
Well, that's a relief: It sounds like you don't have to explain certain facts to him, probably because he's got your memories. But the question embarrasses you, too, particularly given that you'd just snapped a picture of your coffee just before he arrived, and had been on the point of uploading it. <br/>
<br/>
"No, not if you don't want to," you assure him, "but I might be sending you texts. No, wait." You snap your fingers. "Michelle will probably be sending you texts. Actually, you'll probably be hanging out with her, a lot." You swivel in your seat, searching the parking lot for Michelle's car. "We're going to be—"<br/>
<br/>
"Michelle who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Michelle Estrich. From the cheerleading squad?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, you know her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, and you're going to get to know her too. We'll have to invent a story, because—"<br/>
<br/>
Now it's your turn to make a face. <i>Because who the hell would believe that Alexis Lachance and Michelle Estrich would know and hang out with this goofball?</i> "Well, because you're going to be hanging out with her quite a bit. She's going to like you," you add, though you can hardly believe that even orders from Chelsea will get the fake Michelle to go that far. <i>Except,</i> you reflect philosophically, <i>Michelle is sweet enough to like most people. Probably.</i><br/>
<br/>
But Will has perked up at your words. "Like me? Like how like me? Like like?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, just as a friend. But we're going to get you a girlfriend, you know. That's why you need to be friends with her."<br/>
<br/>
But your doppelganger, instead of looking pleased, looks confused. "Does this have anything to do with Yumi?"<br/>
<br/>
Now you look confused. "Yumi? What about Yumi?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, she invited me out to a party last night—"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, that's right.</i><br/>
<br/>
"—met a girl out there." His brow furrows. "You and Chelsea didn't have anything to do with that?"<br/>
<br/>
"No." You go cold all over. Your doppelganger met a girl? At a party? "Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"She goes to Eastman—"<br/>
<br/>
"Eastman?" you exclaim.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, it's better than nobody!"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, what's her name?"<br/>
<br/>
"Eileen Piper. She's cute." He squirms. "Real cute. In fact," he says as he checks his phone, "I'm supposed to meet up with her in an hour or so."</span></div></div>


path: 113122112122211212123
author_id: seuzz
title: Turkish Delight (Not)
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"So tell me about this girl and this party," you demand of your doppelganger. "Where was it, who was there? Did Yumi set you up with—?"<br/>
<br/>
By the expression on his face, you can tell you're overloading your fake, so you back off to let him speak.<br/>
<br/>
His story doesn't really satisfy you, though, and it certainly doesn't satisfy the part of you that is letting Alexis run things; the <i>tl;dr</i> would hardly be longer than the actual tale. Yumi, he relates, gave him a time and an address for Friday night, and he showed up to find a party in full swing; Yumi was there and so was Lin Pol (another cheerleader) who might or might not have been the one who set Yumi up to attend too; he couldn't say. Anyway, the house belonged to an Eastman student and it was mostly Eastman people there, including this Eileen Piper girl.<br/>
<br/>
"So we got to talking," he says, "and then Yumi came by and kind of kept us talking and then she pushed us into the back yard." He pulls at his ear and the whites of his eyes show. "I kind of got the impression, like, she wanted me to make out with her? But I thought maybe it was my imagination so I didn't do anything?" He scrutinizes you. "Should I have, like, gone in?"<br/>
<br/>
The words <i>Yes!</i> and <i>No!</i> get jammed up in your throat. So you thrust out your tiny hand. "You have, like, a picture of her or something?"<br/>
<br/>
He pulls his phone out. "Sure. 'S not a real good picture, 'cos I kind'a snuck it on the sly." He scrolls a fingertip across the screen. "She wasn't looking toward me." He hands you the phone.<br/>
<br/>
You grimace as you examine the image. <i>No, she wasn't looking toward you, was she?</i> you think very hard at your very dumb doppelganger. The photo is dark and blurry, with partygoers that look like flesh-colored streaks. Standing in the foreground is a girl. She's facing away from the lens, though, so that you can only glimpse the tip of a nose and maybe a little bit of cheek sticking out past a loose tangle of dirty-blonde hair. She's showing quite a lot of skin from the waist up, though, from under a midriff-baring tank-top that is either a dark pink or a light tan. More than that you can't really make out for, she's partially obscured by a blonde guy in a letterman jacket who's sprung half-way into the frame, as though trying to photo-bomb it.<br/>
<br/>
"So what's she like?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," he says, which makes you want to slap him. He squirms under your stare, and slouches deeper into his chair. "Kind of an airhead, I think. Or maybe she was high. She smelled like she'd been toking up beforehand. Lotta people there smelled like that, though, and the friends she had with her all looked like potheads. But in a good way, you know?" he hastily adds. "Like Dane Matthias."<br/>
<br/>
You try to imagine showing up at your house with a girl who looks and acts and dresses (and smells) like Dane Matthias, the sloppy pothead who parades around Westside in his pajama bottoms. That ghastly fantasia quickly leads to a mental picture of your dad fixing you with a very hard look as he asks you if she was out burning autumn leaves, and if she wasn't, why she smelled like she had been. <br/>
<br/>
You hesitate, and are about to tell Will that this girl sounds like a really bad idea when he blurts out, "Look, I liked her a lot and had fun with her, so that means you would too, right?"<br/>
<br/>
He has a point.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
And that is how wind up huddling in a dirty booth in a weird little Turkish tea house on the northwest side of town. "Where the hell did you hear about this place?" Erin whispers at you across the table. You flap your hands in a kind of shrug and make a face.<br/>
<br/>
You yourself are mostly a Starbucks/Dunkin' Donuts kind of guy; Alexis prefers the weirder coffee shops near the college campus; but Eileen apparently likes the really deep dives. After you and your doppelganger parted, he texted you twice, the first time to say that he was on his way to pick up Eileen, and the second to tell you where he was taking her (translation: where she told him he was taking her) so you could follow and spy on them together. <i>What the eff is "Yeni Saray"?</i> you asked yourself while squinting at the second message, and had to Google Maps it. When you arrived, you were so horrified by the dingy little shopping center—all buckled asphalt and broken signs—where it squatted that you sent a desperate SOS to Erin and Julian to meet you there. Truthfully, Erin is there only for company; her barrel-chested, football-playing boyfriend, with his scruffy four-day growth of beard, is who you really wanted along.<br/>
<br/>
Yeni Saray a tiny little place with only two very dim, recessed lights to illuminate the entire dining room; over the tinny loudspeakers a woman wails in Turkish or Arabic or something like that to the droning accompaniment of a pipe. Your trio is sitting at the cleanest of the five tables it holds, and even it's sticky with a residue that you hope is only spilt coffee and not the tar drippings from some kind of Turkish tobacco. Even the seat is sticky, and you keep your arms and hands tucked close to your body as you try to balance on the narrowest parts of your hips. Erin looks a little more relaxed—she's not quite as finicky about cleanliness as Alexis—but Julian is sprawled out with one foot stuck in the aisle and one arm draped around Erin's shoulders. "Yeah, this place is way cool," he rumbles with a lazy grin.<br/>
<br/>
"We're not coming here again," Erin warns him. She looks at you. "I can't believe we're here now."<br/>
<br/>
"I just heard about this place and wanted to try it out," you stammer. With the tips of your fingernails you spin the tiny cup of coffee that the spindly, bearded owner brought out in answer to your order. You've had only one sip: it looks and tastes like mud, and you're sure it contains enough caffeine to give a family of giant sloths the all-night jitters. (Not good for Alexis's heart, surely.) You dodge Erin's eye and look past Julian's shoulder to the booth where Will and Eileen are sitting. Your double is hunched over but grinning happily at Eileen—you wonder if he's nursing a raging boner—while she sprawls opposite him. Every once in awhile she squirts a cloud of oily smoke into the air. Are they getting high over there? It wouldn't surprise you. She's dressed in a loose, flouncy top and harem pants and sandals, and so lacks only a hookah to totally fit in here. Her hair is as tangled as it was in that photo, and you seethe with jealousy, for she has such great clouds of it that it looks great even uncombed.<br/>
<br/>
But maybe you shouldn't be staring. "Who do you keep looking at?" Erin asks, and raises up to look over the back of the booth.<br/>
<br/>
"No one," you reply. "Just the other people in here. Funny it's only just us and them. Well, maybe not." You push the coffee cup away.<br/>
<br/>
"College guys, I guess," Erin says as sinks back into her seat.<br/>
<br/>
"High school," you automatically correct her, then follow it with, "Do you know her? I think I recognize her but I can't place her." Maybe Erin could clue you in a little more about Eileen?<br/>
<br/>
She sits up to give Eileen a more direct look, and Julian looks over too. "No. She looks like a regular though. God," she gasps. "What is she smoking?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll go ask," Julian says, and he starts to rise. "I might want some."<br/>
<br/>
"No you don't!" Erin grabs him. "It's giving me cancer, I can tell. Do we have to stay here?" she asks, and holds your eye.<br/>
<br/>
You're interrupted by Julian. "Is that Weidler? Hey!" he cries out, and raises a meaty paw to greet the two skinny guys that have just sauntered in. The one with hair past his shoulder blades raises his own hand to grasp and clasp Julian's. His friend, who has a sharp face under a mop of curly hair, smirks and jerks his chin at you. "How's it hanging?" Julian asks them.<br/>
<br/>
"It's good, it's good," says Matt Weidler. He smiles at you and Erin. He has eyes like a bullfrog, and the kind of patchy moustache mostly seen on old women or guys who can't grow a beard. But he has long, soft brown hair and he plays in a band, so there are plenty of girls who think he's cute and sexy. "We're meeting here with—" He points over to Eileen and Will, who have perked up and are watching.<br/>
<br/>
"Bring 'em over," says Julian. "We've been wondering who they are," he adds. You glare icy daggers at him.<br/>
<br/>
So a table gets pushed up against the end of your booth and you get shoved over against the wall by Matt's friend, who is introduced (along with Eileen and Will) as an Eastman student named Joshua Cheswick. "You don't mind," he says as he drops a skinny arm atop the booth behind your shoulders.<br/>
<br/>
The chatter gets very loud, drowning out the music, and no one pays much attention to the scowl of the cafe owner as he comes out to take the newcomers' orders. You and Erin exchange tight, unhappy glances, but neither of you can find a voice to object.<br/>
<br/>
And when your bladder starts to swell, you clamp your knees together to hold it in. If the dining room is this bad, you tremble to imagine what the restroom looks like.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So we wanna hit the Warehouse early or fashionably late?" Eileen asks an hour later. She hasn't said more than two words to you or Erin, but she's thrown one leg over your replacement's lap. He has the grin of a guy who can't believe how close his cock is to a girl's ass.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121222112121232
author_id: seuzz
title: The Invalid and Her Bodyguards
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>The Warehouse!</i> The word itself makes you shiver. It's the most dangerous party spot in the city ... and the most exciting!<br/>
<br/>
By day it's an abandoned brick warehouse, rotting beside the railroad tracks, in the old, bombed-out industrial part of town; a haunt of transients, drunks, addicts, and thugs. But on weekends it's a club run and patronized by the city's high school students. Bands and DJs blast out music from a stage; there's a saloon where beer, liquor, weed, and harder drugs are sold alongside regular snacks. And upstairs are rooms where mattresses and sheets can be rented by the hour.<br/>
<br/>
Only high school students can get in; even security is provided by high school football players and wrestlers and the like. How it stays open, no one knows, but it probably has to do with payoffs to the police and city council members by whatever gangsters secretly organize and supply it.<br/>
<br/>
You've never been. Alexis certainly never has. You cover your mouth with your hands and drink deeply of the warmed air inside your cupped hands. Over your fingertips you stare at Erin with wide, watering eyes. She looks almost as frightened as you feel.<br/>
<br/>
"Who's playing tonight?" Julian asks Matt. <i>He</i> doesn't look freaked out.<br/>
<br/>
"Bastian and his friends. I was gonna skip or, you know, hang out upstairs." He rolls a shoulder and smirks. "You and your girl there I guess could—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I guess we could go," Julian says as Erin's eyes pop out. "It'd be fun, won't it, babe?" He kisses her sloppily on the cheek, and she winces.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'm gonna go ahead and head out," Matt says, and he shakes out his long, brown hair as he stands up. "Drew comps me free shots when I help him set up." He slaps his friend Joshua in the arm. "You comin'?<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Sure. You comin' too? Can give you a ride." Joshua drops his arm around your shoulders, and that's when you realize he's talking to you. You turn to find him leering down his nose at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Alix is going to a party with some of our other friends," someone says, and you're so shocked and horrified by Joshua's come-on that not until Erin kicks you under the table do you realize she was the one who spoke. "Babe, I think I wanna go with her, party with them," she tells Julian.<br/>
<br/>
You're about to grasp this lifeline when you catch Eileen Piper's face out of the corner of your eye. She is draped across your duplicate, her head resting on his shoulder. Her eyes are half-closed—she looks like she's about to pass out—but they glint with contempt as she stares at you.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I forgot to tell you that fell through," you tell Erin as you return Eileen's gaze. You feel yourself flushing. "So I'm up for a night at the ... the Warehouse." By now your heart is racing. "I don't wanna stay in on a Saturday night."<br/>
<br/>
From the recessed speakers, the singer's voice rises to a wailing shriek in the silence that ensues. "I guess we'll follow you guys in a bit, then," Julian rumbles. "I wanna get a burger or some KFC before hitting the club." He glances away, his expression tight. But Erin stares at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
She and Julian try talking you out of going—Erin says she'll spend the evening with you, if that's what it takes to keep you out of danger—but you're adamant. "I've never been," you say as you cluster around Julian's truck in the parking lot outside the cafe. "You've never been either."<br/>
<br/>
She squirms and darts Julian an embarrassed look. "No. But I really don't think it's your kind of scene, Alix. What we did last night is more your kind of— And it was really awesome! Wasn't it, babe?" She nudges Julian.<br/>
<br/>
But you insist on going, and you're sure you'll be alright if you can stick close to Julian. So he relents (a little more quickly than you'd have liked him to, honestly) and says that he and Erin will pick you up at your place in ninety minutes. "We're not gonna stay out there past two," he warns you. But since your own curfew has always been eleven, and Alexis is never out past midnight, you are actually fine with that hour.<br/>
<br/>
It takes you a long time to pick out an ensemble, for you have no idea what it will actually be like out at the Warehouse; you only have your stereotypes to guide you. You wind up in a pair of distressed jeans, a t-shirt, and Alexis's favorite tan windbreaker. You wince as you regard yourself. You're going to look like a total noob, you can tell.<br/>
<br/>
You feel a little better when you see that Erin has also dressed down in "invisible casual." "Julian called around, made sure we'd have lots of guys out there to hang out with," she whispers to you in the foyer of your house while her boyfriend is using the hall bathroom. She rubs your arm. "Roman and the guys. Alec and Jesse. Jason Rowe." (That's another football player.) "You'll be okay."<br/>
<br/>
"I know I'll be okay," you hiss back at her. "Stop treating me like I'm an invalid or something."<br/>
<br/>
Except you are. Voices belonging to Alexis and yourself are shouting in the back of your head that the Warehouse, even if it's safe, is too "exciting" a scene for someone of Alexis's constitution.<br/>
<br/>
But then the toilet flushes and Julian comes out, and there's nothing to do but go with.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
There's a whole pack of people in the Eastman High School parking lot, where they are rendezvousing to carpool out to the Warehouse. All the ballplayers from your party last night are there, along with their girlfriends, plus a half-dozen more of their friends as well. It might be your imagination, but they all seem to go out of their way to say "Hi" to you and tell you how happy they are to see you going, and to assure you that you'll have lots of fun. "You're gonna ride up front with me, right?" Roman says, and he drags you into a light hug.<br/>
<br/>
You clasp him back, and drink deeply of the spicy, pine-scented cologne that clings to his black, silk shirt. The muscles beneath are hard and you can feel their curves.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you do out at the Warehouse?" you ask him once you're on the road. He's driving his truck, and you're squeezed up next to him, with Erin and Julian on the other side of you; a dozen more are riding back in the bed, and you can hear them laughing and shrieking even over the grumble of the motor.<br/>
<br/>
"Same sort of stuff as any party," he says. "Except less supervision." He puts his arm around you; that and his assurances make you feel better. "First dance with me?" You nod and snuggle up to him.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Why am I doing this?</i> you wonder. <i>I won't even be able to see Eileen and ... Will out there, and that's the only reason I'm going. I'm going to have to pretend to be Alexis and that means pretending to have this hard crush on Roman.</i><br/>
<br/>
But you're so frightened, both of the upcoming scene and of the dangers you suspect it poses to Alexis, that you feel real relief as you cling to him. <i>My tall, dark, knight,</i> says a voice inside your skull.<br/>
<br/>
The Warehouse looms dark and grim after you've parked at it. There are no windows, and the only light—aside from the acrid vapor-lamps that flare against the nearby grain elevator—spills out through a narrow door at the front. But the brick walls thump and tremble with the beat of the music within.<br/>
<br/>
It's still only ten o'clock when you arrive, so the "bar"—a series of plywood tables set up around the perimeter of one of the ground-floor rooms—isn't crowded. Your group breaks up into smaller pairs and trios and scatters about to purchase drinks from the (mostly) tattooed and pierced guys who are manning the stations. You keep an arm around Roman and let him draw you over to where two of them are guarding a couple of large kegs.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, you did show up. Hey!" A heavy hand lands on your shoulder, and you whirl inside Roman's embrace to find that Joshua guy from the cafe smirking down at you. He totally ignores Roman to address you. "Me and Matt and the rest of us are in there." He jerks his chin off toward another room, and grins. "Got a place saved for you."<br/>
<br/>
Roman gently squeezes your shoulder. "Who are you?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Joshua Cheswick," says the other, and puts out a slender hand that Roman ignores. "Hey, you're not going together or nothin', right? 'Cos Alix didn't say nothin' about you when we were making out at the coffee shop."<br/>
<br/>
His words jolt you, and you can feel Roman freeze in place. You can't even stammer out a retort. That leaves Joshua free to keep prattling. <br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, we were out at the Turk's Head earlier," he says, "me and her and some other guys." His eyes glint over a smirk that seems to grow more and more bold. "That's when we all decided to come out here, hook up again, have some fun. Whatever you're gettin' here, I'll treat—"<br/>
<br/>
"I think you've got the wrong girl," Roman says.<br/>
<br/>
Joshua snorts. "Fuck, no I don't, man, I think <i>you</i> must'a got the wrong—"<br/>
<br/>
But a resonant baritone drowns him out: "He says you've got the wrong girl." A strong arm grabs him. "Come on while you've still got some teeth to call your own."<br/>
<br/>
Joshua squirms once, then collapses as a tall, strapping figure in a letterman jacket hauls him off. His captor briefly glances back over at his shoulder at you.<br/>
<br/>
Your heart rockets. He's taller and darker than Roman, and his eyes flash with authority. A rumble like thunder seems to come up through the floor, and the crowd melts before him as he pushes Joshua into the next room.<br/>
<br/>
There he shoves Joshua into a booth and drops down next to him. Opposite them, you can just make out the faces of Eileen Piper and Will Prescott peering back with shocked expressions.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121224
author_id: rugal
id: BNMBDBRTZ
title: Chatty Choices
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"What about Cassie Harper?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"What <i>about</i> Cassie Harper?" she quizzically parrots.<br/>
<br/>
"I was thinking that, uh, she could be the one I use the mask on."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea looks at you in stunned silence, as if your words are only very slowly moving from her ears to her brain in order to process what she's heard. "Why <i>her</i>?" she finally replies wit copious acidity.<br/>
<br/>
You don't think that you can tell her your real reasons.<br/>
<br/>
For one, you don't really have any desire to go down a year and more importantly, you half-suspect it'd be a way for Chelsea to exert more control over you, the masks and the book. Deanna holds no interest to you either. You know that she hangs around Kelsey's group but if you were going to be around Kelsey's group then you'd rather just be Kelsey and not a hanger-on. And you realize that Chelsea would probably never go for you being Kelsey because that's a very powerful position, one that might allow you more independence from her.<br/>
<br/>
Yeah, you can't risk pissing her off by telling her that you're wary of her. So you try to frame it in a more agreeable manner. "She talks a lot, right? Very chatty. She—"<br/>
<br/>
"I know who she is, Will. We share a class," Chelsea huffs impatiently. "But that doesn't explain why the fuck you want <i>her</i>."<br/>
<br/>
"Well... I guess..." You're fumbling, you realize, as you try to make up a reason on the spot. Messing with Caleb could be fun and all but it's not going to appease her. "I've got a few classes with her and, uh, she's always talking to me. So I guess I thought that maybe it'd be good to look at myself from the perspective of someone who kind of knows me?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea scowls and you can tell that she's probably unhappy with your suggestion. You can guess why, too. Deanna's position as part of Kelsey's group of AP snobs as well as a gossip means she'd be a very useful ally in Chelsea's back pocket. The junior girl... well, you're not really sure what value she'd have. But there must be something useful because no way would Chelsea just suggest some anonymous junior for the hell of it.<br/>
<br/>
But what use would Cassie have to her? You don't know and Chelsea probably doesn't either which is why she eventually lets out a deep sigh. "We can make a decision later, okay? Just work on those masks in the mean time."<br/>
<br/>
"I thought I already made some?"<br/>
<br/>
"Will, come on," she says. "We each need to test this new stuff out, right? But that would be hard with two masks."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, you too?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Duh! I mean," she smiles, "of course I'd want to try this out too. You know that, right? You wouldn't have told me if you thought that I didn't."<br/>
<br/>
"I... yeah, I guess," you say with resignation. There was a part of you that was—probably naively—hoping she'd just leave the stuff to you and, you don't know, maybe just act as the mastermind or something. Because Chelsea using masks herself could be very dangerous. But no, of course she'd want to use them the second you told her about this new spell and there's no backing out of not now.<br/>
<br/>
"Right! So just work on that while I think over your... suggestion."<br/>
<br/>
The small pause that Chelsea had put before "suggestion" seemingly tells you exactly where she's going to file it away.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea sends you back to your place to grab the stuff you'll need to make the new goop and tells you to make not just one but two batches of it, one for you and one for her. She knows, so she says, that you might not always be around if she needs to use this so her having her own batch using her own hair only makes complete sense. You're not in any position to argue with her so you show her the spell and go over how the whole process with the goop and the mask works.<br/>
<br/>
It's a few hours before you're back home and by then you're tired enough that you fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The next day seems to hold no surprises. You don't hear from Chelsea and nothing out of the ordinary happens through your first few classes. Cassie cheerily greets you in the fourth period class that's one of two you share but that's not out of the ordinary. She's cute (so long as she's keeping her wordcount to something reasonable) but you're again struck by the fact she has no real value to Chelsea which, you assume, is the only reason she'd want you being anyone.<br/>
<br/>
You also realize that Chelsea must have made a choice for you for once class is out you check your phone and see that she had sent you a text: <i>come over to my house after school</i>.<br/>
<br/>
You're left wondering just who it is you'll be turned into once you're there as you head to lunch.<br/>
<br/>
"So, you give any thought at all to what I said yesterday?" you ask Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"Whuzzis now?" asks Keith through bites of his sandwich.<br/>
<br/>
"I was telling him that he should try hooking up with Cassie Harper," you answer. "She'd probably be into him."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't listen to him," Caleb says. "Kirkham's hit Prescott in the head one too many times so now he's coming up with these weird fucking delusions. Cassie's not—" Caleb stops himself and glares at you. "Even if she was, I'm not interested."<br/>
<br/>
"Why'zat?" Keith asks. "Nothin' wrong with her. She's cute."<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't say there <i>was</i> anything wrong with her," Caleb retorts, "but I'm not interested."<br/>
<br/>
"You know, you never actually answered me about who I should ask out," you state.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, man, are you still hung up on that dumb shit?" he asks incredulously. "Look, fine, I dunno Karen Rogers."<br/>
<br/>
"Karen— who?" you reply. "I don't eve know who that is."<br/>
<br/>
"You asked for a name and I gave you one."<br/>
<br/>
"What about me?" asks Keith. "Who y'all think I should try my luck with?"<br/>
<br/>
Caleb and you look at him and then at one another and you both seem to come to the same unspoken conclusion. "Morgana Hollis," you answer as you look back at Keith.<br/>
<br/>
"Wha? Why her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because only a loon would be happy about you asking them out," states Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Maybe it's because she's been on your mind since yesterday but you realize that you're taking far more notice of Cassie than usual and in eighth period you can see that she looks very antsy and anxious, fidgeting nervously and biting her lip. At one point you ask her what's up and for once she seems tongue tied. She seems like she wants to tell you but the words don't seem to be coming out and so you don't press the issue.<br/>
<br/>
After school you remember that you still had to do that stuff for Chelsea and text her to say that it might not be until the evening that you can arrive because of it. Her response is to tell you not to be too long because she's only got so much time and blah blah blah. So you grab the supplies you need and head to the community center where you start working on the bands.<br/>
<br/>
You've got two done and are in the process of gluing the second band to a mask when a text, in all caps, tells you to get the hell over to Chelsea's <i>right now</i>. So you grab everything up and quickly race over. Chelsea is pacing outside by the front door by the time you get there.<br/>
<br/>
"She's so tiring!" she exclaims as you walk up. "Get the fuck in here so we can get that mask on her and shut her up!"<br/>
<br/>
"Who is it?" you ask as Chelsea quickly hustles you inside and up the stairs. She doesn't say anything though as she leads you towards her room and when she opens the door you're surprised to see...<br/>
<br/>
"Cassie?" you say in surprise as you see her sitting on Chelsea's bed.<br/>
<br/>
That seems to catch her by surprise too because she looks at you and her eyes go wide. "Oh, <i>you're</i> who Chelsea said was coming over?" she says as she nervously sways and kicks her feet. "She said she had some stuff to talk about and also that she wanted me to meet somebody so I—"<br/>
<br/>
"Gimme a mask," Chelsea growls into your ear which drowns out Cassie's chatter. She snatches it from you and quickly stomps over and smashes it onto Cassie's face. "God, finally!" she exclaims as Cassie slumps and falls backwards as the mask begins to copy her. "She's just just too much to deal with outside of short bursts!"<br/>
<br/>
"I could have told you that," you state which causes Chelsea to look back and glare at you. But very quickly that cold, hard stare warms and softens.<br/>
<br/>
"You know, Will, I was really surprised when you gave me her name and I almost wanted to tell you to pick someone else," she says. "But I figured I guess I could be nice since, you know, you've already done a lot for me. And you're doing a lot for me now, too."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that so?" you ask, unsure of what to say.<br/>
<br/>
"Mhm! So me and Cassie have second period and I figured why not talk to her and size her up? She wound up telling me a lot of interesting things, like who her friends were and where she works and..." Chelsea's expression is playful and devilish. "There were also things that she told me without having to actually say. So I decided that she'd be a really interesting person to copy into a mask."<br/>
<br/>
You're surprised that Chelsea, of all people, found something interesting—and probably useful—about Cassie but even that isn't as surprising as what she says next.<br/>
<br/>
"That's why I want her mask," she states. "We'll get you one for sure, Will, but let me have Cassie's."<span class="gejfmjffkhi3711"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211212241
author_id: rugal
id: M3KBMX7PQ
title: Confessions and Deceptions
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"Wait, <i>you</i> want Cassie's mask?" you ask in shock. "Why?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I decided that I do, okay?" Chelsea retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, sure, but I mean she isn't..." You stop and catch yourself wondering if it would be wise to come out with how you feel. But you figure that you've already taken enough steps so you might as well push forward. "I just don't get what use she'd have to you."<br/>
<br/>
"Use?" Chelsea blinks. "You think... is that all you think I'd care about?"<br/>
<br/>
"No!" you emphatically reply, though immediately undermine yourself. "Well, I don't know. But the way you've talked and... uh... I guess I just think that'd be an important reason why you'd choose anyone to copy, right? I'm not any different, though, am I?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea looks at you for a moment and her mouth, though closed, moves as if she's chewing something; like she's fighting down a very strong urge to unload on you. You realize you need to smooth things over and that means giving her what she wants, even if what she wants makes no sense to you.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, look, I don't have any problem with you having the mask or anything like that," you say, "it's just—"<br/>
<br/>
You're thrown off balance when Chelsea reaches over and snatches the bag you have everything else in. "So I just use the paintbrush on the mask after it shows up again?" she asks as she peers into it.<br/>
<br/>
"Um, yeah, just give it a good coat of varnish to seal it," you confirm. "Same with the golem stuff you put in the mask. Just take a brush and coat the inside once you've sealed the mask."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, I'm pretty sure I've got it," she says as she looks at you once more. "You can leave now."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, excuse me?" you ask in surprise.<br/>
<br/>
"You. Can. Leave. That's pretty clear, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"Ugh geez Will don't choose <i>now</i> to start being difficult!" she whines. "Were you able to get everything done?"<br/>
<br/>
"Was I—no," you admit. "I'd just gotten the two bands done and glued onto the completed masks when you told me to come over."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, then, go finish them!" she demands. She follows it up with a sharp "Hey!" when you reach into the bag.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, fine, you know what you're doing," you say as you look through and pull out the container with the past you'd made using your hair, "but I'm taking this with me. Don't want you mixing it up and being stuck with a Cassiebot that you can't turn off."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, okay, fine. Just go," she huffs as she practically pushes you out of the room. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
Once out the door and back in your truck, you begin to drive towards Acheson and the community center when you look at the time on your center console and realize that it's nearly time for dinner. You instead head home where your parents wonder where you've been and you give them a vague story about getting into something with a friend and losing track of time. You eat dinner and wash up but you're stopped by your dad as you attempt to leave.<br/>
<br/>
He asks you where you're going and when you say to check up on something with that friend, he merely shakes his head. "You didn't call and your mother was starting to fret over it," he tells you. "You're not grounded but you're not going anywhere else tonight."<br/>
<br/>
"What? But dad—"<br/>
<br/>
"No buts. I'm sure whatever it is isn't so important that it can't wait until tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
You'll get nowhere so with resignation you trudge up to your room and do your best to ignore the shit eating grin on your brother's face as you walk past him.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You can at least content yourself with fantasies of seeing Chelsea today. No, not fantasy but reality. You would have never thought that you'd manage to strike up a relationship with Chelsea Cooper of all people, and a mostly positive one (so far, anyway) at that. But now here you are ready to talk to her. You anticipate it; expect it.<br/>
<br/>
Which is why you're surprised and disappointed when it doesn't come. You don't see her and she doesn't so much as send you a text. It leaves you feeling shockingly crestfallen. Maybe you should have expected it. You'd started to entertain the idea that perhaps you and Chelsea were becoming friends but maybe it was all delusions. You merely had something she needed and now that she knows how to use it, what use are you to her anymore?<br/>
<br/>
"Hey Will!" Cassie says as she pokes you in the side. "You look down. Something bothering you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" you blurt out in confusion. Then it dawns on you that you're leaving fourth period. You've been so caught up in your moping over this whole thing with Chelsea that you've gone through half of the day without even realizing it. "Oh, uh, no not really."<br/>
<br/>
"Hmmmmmm," she says with an expression on her face that looks like it's scrutinizing you. "Hey Caleb, I'm gonna borrow Will for lunch is that okay? I mean I'm gonna do it anyway but I figured that I'd ask you first on account of how you're always together. Not that I mean you guys are, uh, y'know or anything but—"<br/>
<br/>
"Cassie, it's fine," says as he looks over at you. "Have fun."<br/>
<br/>
"What's that supposed to mean?" you ask as he walks off.<br/>
<br/>
Cassie grabs you by the arm however. "C'mon, I wanna show you something!" she excitedly says as she begins to drag you around the school. You go up and down hallways and inside and outside until you finally end up at the gym. She leads you inside where you see Coach Tesla with a class on the other side. Nobody spots you as Cassie leads you to and up a very familiar set of steps. When you're at the top she pulls a key out and opens the door.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, hey did Chelsea give you the key or something?" you ask as the two of you step into the loft.<br/>
<br/>
"Something like that," she giggles as she shuts the door. She approaches you now with an unsure look, nervousness and excitement making themselves clear. "You know, Will, I was talking with Chelsea yesterday about... stuff, and she was telling me that maybe I need to be more straightforward about things."<br/>
<br/>
"About what?" you ask in confusion.<br/>
<br/>
"About the fact that I, um, like you?" she says and then gasps. "Ohmigod!" she squeals as she brings her hands up to her face, "I actually said it! Y-you see Chelsea gave me the key in second and told me to use it because I told her I was too nervous to be straightforward but she was like 'well maybe you need somewhere private,' and I guess duh she was right because of course she was!"<br/>
<br/>
You can only stand there stunned. You'd been messing with Caleb when you said that Cassie liked him and she had a type but you also half-believed it too. You hadn't expected, well... But she stands there shyly and she suddenly looks very cute. Her hazel eyes glisten and the parts of her face not covered by freckles are a bright pink. Without thinking you grab her hands and she looks at you with both surprise and expectancy.<br/>
<br/>
You'd never really thought of Cassie as a potential girlfriend but now? Slowly you lean in, your mouths becoming closer as you feel her breath and hear her soft, but excited breathing. And then she gently pushes you away and giggles.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh geez, Will, that's great!" she says as she laughs. "I didn't actually expect you to... oh god!"<br/>
<br/>
It takes a moment to realize what's happened but it does eventually sink in. "Chelsea?" you ask. Cassie responds with a very Chelseaish smirk.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I <i>was</i> just going to use that stuff to put her under my control," she explains as you sit down together. "But then I saw the other mask in there and I guess I decided why not?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's it? You switched on a whim?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, I guess," she shrugs. "But I guess I thought that it's kind of a pain in the ass having to run around and rearrange things and stuff just to meet. Chelsea Cooper as a lot of stuff going on, you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"And she can't be seen talking to someone like Will Prescott," you add.<br/>
<br/>
"Mmm, yeah, and maybe I just want a break too. So figured why not?" she tells you. "It was weird though because when I first put the mask on I didn't have anything. I'm lucky that she had her license and stuff or I never would have found her place. But when I woke up it was like, abracadabra! I could remember everything she did and act like she acts."<br/>
<br/>
You figure that's something, then, that you might need to be aware of if you put on a mask too. But you have more pressing questions gnawing at you right now. "So, uh, all that stuff you said when we got up here about, uh, liking me..."<br/>
<br/>
Cassie's eyes go wide but then she gives you a devilish smile. "Oh that was true! Cassie has, like, the biggest crush on you! Oh god, it was so blatant too! How did you never pick up on?" she teases.<br/>
<br/>
"I... I don't know," you grumble. "Guess I'm just blind."<br/>
<br/>
"But actually, we can go with this," she says as she reaches over and clasps your hand. "You want a girlfriend, then Cassie Harper will be your girlfriend. At least that's how the world will see it."<br/>
<br/>
"My... what!?"<br/>
<br/>
She giggles a bit at that. "Being me is soooo tiring, you know? But I've got myself—Chelsea—under my control right? So I can do what I was gonna do but just do it from behind the scenes for a little bit. And it'll help you too, you know? Your popularity."<br/>
<br/>
"Because I've got a girlfriend?" you nervously ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Because your girlfriend is going to be a cheerleader," she answers.<span class="jfnknjhi158"></span></span></div></div>


path: 113122112122411
author_id: rugal
id: MS7YQ3WXT
title: Useful Relationships
chapter_content:
<div><div style="padding:0px;margin:0px;"></div><div> <span>"A cheerleader for a girlfriend, huh?" you say dreamily, visions of Yumi and Maria and the others filling your head. But you quickly realize what she means by that. "Wait, you mean Cassie's going to be a cheerleader!? Fuck, so you <i>were</i> planning something!"<br/>
<br/>
"Guilty as charged!" answers Cassie with a giggle. "It's like you said, Will, I wasn't going to pick someone to use the masks on just for the hell of it. I do need to think about how I can use them to my benefit and after sizing her up, I realized that Cassie does offer more than I thought."<br/>
<br/>
"You make it sound like you'd had a plan drawn up before I was even out there," you observe.<br/>
<br/>
She giggles once more. "There's <i>always</i> a plan, Will," she crows. "I had some ideas yesterday but once I woke up this morning and I had all of her stuff in my head, it all came together."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh, and what's that?"<br/>
<br/>
"For starters, Michelle's off the squad. Cassie can't join without a spot freed up and, frankly, Michelle just doesn't make the cut," she bluntly states.<br/>
<br/>
"Then add her in the first place?" you question. "It seems like nobody really likes her. Yumi and the others complain that she's just someone for you to bully into agreeing with you. Now you're telling me that she's not good enough and you want to cut her."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, she's a real misfit toy without an island, huh?" Cassie replies and gasps. "Haha! That was something Cassie's mind came up with! See what I mean?"<br/>
<br/>
You look over and while it's her face and her voice, the way she moves and talks and acts are definitely not Cassie. At least or you, who knows what's going on, it's a little off-putting if you're being honest with yourself. Like you're talking to a skinwalker who's just a bit off. But if she's gone through half a day without any issues then Chelsea must be doing everything right, you realize.<br/>
<br/>
"And of <i>course</i> I wanted her on the squad because I thought she'd be easy to cajole," she continues which, you suppose, is the nice way of putting it, "but she's just so... antisocial. Even if she agrees with me her whole vibe brings everything down and that's not really what the squad needs."<br/>
<br/>
You're not sure how you feel about that but you also don't feel like you really know the squad dynamics enough to argue. "So what then? After you remove her?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that would mean an open spot, duh. I probably have Chelsea—myself, I mean—talk to the coach about holding an open tryout."<br/>
<br/>
"And I'm betting Cassie Harper tries out," you state.<br/>
<br/>
"Right!" she exclaims. "And since I'm Cassie I'll have no problem doing the routines, plus Cassie's flexible and coordinated enough. Do you know she took dance from ninth to eleventh?"<br/>
<br/>
"I... maybe, I don't know."<br/>
<br/>
"And since I can just order my... what'd you call it?"<br/>
<br/>
"A golem."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, that. Anyway, I can just order her to pick Cassie and just like that Cassie's on the squad."<br/>
<br/>
"And my girlfriend is a cheerleader," you say but with surprisingly less enthusiasm than the idea should evoke. Is it because the girlfriend would be Cassie and not someone more... desirable?<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly, so you see how that benefits you. You're not Will Prescott the... uh... well, you're a guy dating a cheerleader!<br/>
<br/>
"But how does this benefit you?" you ask. That seems to confuse Cassie so you reiterate. "What I mean is, I see what I get out of it but what do you get out of it? Like you said, there's always a plan."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you're friends with Yumi and them right?" she asks as she wraps her arms around your left arm and leans in. "So by default, they'd probably think that would put me into their camp since I'd be your girlfriend and all. They'd probably think they'd have the advantage and then Cindy," she venomously says the name, "will probably try a no confidence vote."<br/>
<br/>
"But then Cassie votes with Chelsea's group and stops it, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes!" she squeals. "And that whole thing going tits up would probably be enough to get Cindy off the squad."<br/>
<br/>
At that you jerk your arm loose much to Cassie's surprise. "I get it," you say as you realize why this is bothering you. "Cindy's coup fails and she's driven out so you've got unquestioned control of everything. Then at that point," you pause and gather yourself. "At that point, you break up with me since obviously you've gotten what you've wanted and it's not like we're <i>actually</i> dating."<br/>
<br/>
The words sting as you say them because you realize that it's echoing the same excuse that Lisa gave for breaking up with you. You weren't really going out, it was all just for fun. It was all just pretend.<br/>
<br/>
"Will! That's not—" Cassie stops and you feel her shift and move. She's in your lap now, facing you, her arms resting on your shoulders as she looks you in the eye. "Maybe I'd go back to being myself once I do what I need to do but I'm not fucking abandoning you! If Cindy leaves then you can be whoever would take her spot. Or we'll find you somewhere else." She pauses and you notice her eyes cast an aside glance. "Actually, we may need to find someone for you to use the masks on before then because—"<br/>
<br/>
"See, I knew it!" you say as you try to squirm out from under her grasp. But despite how small and light Cassie is, she's surprisingly strong and all you're really doing it rubbing against her. And you can feel the result of that in your pants.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, you and Cassie can continue dating even if that does happen. I'm not setting you up to be fucking humiliated or whatever," she declares. "And," she starts as you feel an arm pull back and a hand place itself on your cheek, "if I'm gonna play this role then I'm gonna do it seriously. I wasn't bullshitting you about Cassie liking you or anything so I just have to," she pauses, "lose myself a little."<br/>
<br/>
She leans in and you're surprised when her lips touch yours. Hungrily, but gently, she parts them and you feel her tongue enter your mouth. You fumble but you also feel her take the lead and guide you. This is how you spend your lunch period: kissing Cassie Harper. Kissing Chelsea Cooper.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Yo Prescott, whatcha out here for?" asks Andy Tackett as you approach him. He's a creative type that you share a class with and though you're not friends, specifically, you and he have always been on good terms. Though this period, like for you, is a study hall for him, half the time he's out at the portables with...<br/>
<br/>
Well, today you only see Spencer Osbourne (a troublemaker who you can never get a read on) and Lee Reynolds (a guy who sits near you in eighth).<br/>
<br/>
"Don't really know," you answer, "I'm just feeling all antsy and shit 'cause I got a girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"No shit?" Spencer replies with a smirk, "Well congratulations are in order, aye?" He proffers you a joint but you pass.<br/>
<br/>
"Weren't you going out with that Lisa girl? The one that hangs around Kelsey?" Tackett asks. "I thought that was a whole thing."<br/>
<br/>
"Nah, it wasn't serious," you say trying to be nonchalant about it.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright then, so who's the lucky gal?" he follows up.<br/>
<br/>
"Cassie Harper," you admit. "She pulled me aside after fourth, had me go off with her during lunch and uh, we spent most of it making out."<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft!" Lee snorts. "Oh damn, really? Chatty Cassie huh? I knew she had it bad for you, man, but I didn't know she had it <i>bad</i>."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, you knew?" you ask him.<br/>
<br/>
"'Course I did, she practically broadcast it. I always see her giving you these little looks and shit in class. Figured you knew but you weren't interested."<br/>
<br/>
"Hey don't tease him," Tackett says as he jumps to your defense. "My man got the hint eventually, right? Maybe a little slower than most," he grins, "but the tortoise still reaches the finish line."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Of course, you do know why you were out there. Cassie had told you to advertise the change in your relationship status a bit. You'd figured that Tackett would probably be a relatively safe guy to tell but you hadn't counted on Lee being there too and he, of course, tells his buddy Andrew Harding who sits next to you (opposite of the side Cassie sits) in eighth.<br/>
<br/>
You can tell that Lee told him because Harding, a beefy guy with a thick lion's mane of hair, gives you a bright and knowing look as you take your seat. But he says nothing until class ends.<br/>
<br/>
"So hey, heard that the two of you had a thing goin' on," he says to you and Cassie. "Y'know, that you're all official now."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, really?" asks Melissa Adams, a brunette you share this class with who you often see Cassie talking to.<br/>
<br/>
"Well," Cassie shy starts as she nervously bites her lip. There's no Chelsea at all there, just pure Cassie. "I... kindatoldhimIlikedhimyeah." She throws her hands in her face as she says it.<br/>
<br/>
"Good for the two of you, then," says Andrew as he slaps a meaty paw on your shoulder. "Better treat her well, Prescott. Maybe take her out somewhere tonight, huh?"<br/>
<br/>
Take her out? You look over at Cassie but Chelsea's devoted enough to being in character that you can't get a read on if she'd want you to actually take her out on what would effectively be a date or not. Actually, she may just want you to finish the work that you weren't able to complete.<span class="fngigffkgee3610"></span></span></div></div>


path: 11312211213
author_id: rugal
title: Best Laid Plans
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Chelsea," you say, "that sounds like a good idea and all--"<br/>
<br/>
"Great!" Chelsea exclaims happily. "I'm so glad you agree Will! So then tomorrow I'll talk to Yumi and invite her out here to make the swap," she chirps. "So you just make that mask up, bring it over tomorrow and everything will be peachy."<br/>
<br/>
"But it's not going to be peachy because I'm not going to do the swap," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"You're," she looks at you completely stunned. "But why?" she asks and there's a whine in her voice that makes you cringe a bit.<br/>
<br/>
"B-because," you stutter out because now that it's thrown back you suddenly find it very daunting to try and tell Chelsea Cooper why you're not going to do something she wants you to do. "Because it's wrong!" you exclaim. "We just... we take Yumi or Cindy or whoever and just... and I take their life?"<br/>
<br/>
"But we know it's only temporary!" she whines.<br/>
<br/>
"But even still that's wrong don't you think? I mean like if Caleb had used that mask on you or I used a mask on you to take your life for a few days then how would you feel?"<br/>
<br/>
"Will! You wouldn't," she sniffles. "I'm just trying to help you out you know?"<br/>
<br/>
"A-a-and I appreciate it Chelsea, I really do!" you backtrack defensively. "And I wouldn't steal your life like that I promise, but it's just an example. But you're kind of proving my point too if you're worried that I <i>could</i>; this can be kind of dangerous. This can be abused really easily."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea looks down and scrunches her face up and you were a betting man you'd say that she's now seen the error and the danger of this line of thought and is seriously reconsidering her actions. But it's a good thing you're not a betting man.<br/>
<br/>
"Look Will, I understand what you're saying but this is the best option," she says with determination. "You're so worried about something going wrong and people abusing it but I think you're just being paranoid. If I wanted to do something to you I would've just done it. And all of these other things have worked right? So why wouldn't this new one?"<br/>
<br/>
All you can think is that she's really determined to have you do this swap. But now you're starting to doubt yourself because Chelsea, much as you hate to admit it, is right to an extent. Everything with the book <i>has</i> worked so far... but that doesn't mean everything <i>will</i> work.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, Will, I'll prove to you that it'll be fine," she coos reassuringly.<br/>
<br/>
"And how are you going to do that?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"I told you already," she replies softly but with just a hint of frustration, "we'll get some asshole. We're going to use them to prove that this stuff that you made is harmless and then we'll go from there. How does that sound?"<br/>
<br/>
It's as if Chelsea was only half-listening to anything you had been saying and what bits she did hear immediately flew out of the other side of her head. She's obstinate and is going to do what she's going to do and it seems as if you're merely along for the ride. That and you assume that since she's now aware of this stuff that there really is nothing stopping her from using it on you if you don't go along with her.<br/>
<br/>
So despite whatever reservations you have you resign yourself. "Okay," is all you can mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"Great!" she exclaims. "Okay so just come up to the loft tomorrow at... what do you have free? When's your lunch?"<br/>
<br/>
"Um, well, my lunch is during fifth," you can only meekly reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, well then meet me up there at lunch and we can get this done!" she continues to chirp. "You'll see Will!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>remember the loft @ 5th period. seeya!</i><br/>
<br/>
That's the text that greets you when you check your phone in the morning. Jeez, is Chelsea really that enthusiastic about swapping you into Yumi or Cindy or whoever you wonder? Well that's still a ways off anyway. You'll be up there testing the new mask to make sure that stuff works and its to your own surprise that it's a completed mask and that you have your dad to thank for it.<br/>
<br/>
When he'd saw what you had been working on he'd naturally begun grilling you on just what it was. He wasn't satisfied with "art project for a friend" and he was certainly not satisfied with the hours put into it for nothing. So he'd marched you into the garage, handed you a buffer and stated as a man you should know about equipment like this before heading back inside.<br/>
<br/>
To your shock it actually did seem to make the process go by much more quickly and in about an hour and a half at the longest you'd had both masks -- the one Gordon had started and the one you'd made earlier when testing stuff -- fully polished.<br/>
<br/>
So it's with this that you go through most of the first half of school until fourth period ends. You don't even tell Caleb that you've got somewhere you need to be and you won't be joining him, instead you just make a mad dash towards the gym. You're not sure what classes are using it fifth but thankfully it's the transition period between classes so you're able to get up into the loft with little issue.<br/>
<br/>
"So do you have it?"<br/>
<br/>
Those are the first words out of Chelsea's mouth as she stares at you, hands on her hips, expectantly. It takes you a second to realize she's talking about the mask. "Ah, yeah here it is," you say with no real enthusiasm. You dig through your backpack, pull it out and hand it over to her.<br/>
<br/>
"This is nice," she says as she turns the mask over.<br/>
<br/>
"So why not use the stuff on the mask of Gordon?" you ask as you take it back from her and apply the band to it. "Why go through the trouble of a new mask?"<br/>
<br/>
"Insurance," she says in a tone that's both serious and proud. "I said we were getting some asshole so if something happens then it's not a problem. Gordon's mask isn't ruined."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait if something happens?" you ask. "But you were the one saying--"<br/>
<br/>
"I <i>know</i> and it'll be fine," she interrupts, "but we should be prepared just in case right?"<br/>
<br/>
"So where is Gordon anyway?" you ask as you finish attaching the band. You turn back to see Chelsea with a rather smug look on her face as you hand the mask back to her.<br/>
<br/>
"Getting us that asshole," she says. "We have bullshit classes this period so if we can skip with no problem. This is a little more important than some dumb class about raising a family right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay so who's coming up here?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea just smiles. "Oh I had all morning to think and I found someone good," she says. "You'll like it, Will; trust me."<br/>
<br/>
Almost as if on cue the door bursts open and someone, with Gordon towering behind them, comes in. You barely have time to register who it is before Chelsea takes the mask, walks up and practically, needlessly even, jams it on their face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You sit up and your companion likewise follows suit. You're up in the fuck room completely naked as is your companion. It's just around one in the afternoon and you can spit it in Caleb's face that you're no longer a virgin. Sienna Goldman, who also has fifth period lunch, saw to that. She saw to it because she's wearing a mask of herself affixed with a bit of that goop that you put inside her mask that leaves her under Chelsea's control.<br/>
<br/>
Sienna Goldman.<br/>
<br/>
That's who Chelsea had picked out. She's a bitch, Chelsea had said. She's constantly talking bad about the cheerleaders, spreading bad rumors about people like Steve Patterson and worst of all is friends with that cunt (as Chelsea so helpfully emphasized) Andrea Varnsworth. So in Chelsea's eyes this made her the ideal guinea pig for this experiment and it turned out to have worked perfectly. Chelsea had whispered something into Sienna's ear and then said she and Gordon would get out of here.<br/>
<br/>
She said to take as much time as you need to get to know Sienna, take the rest of the school day if need be, and then text her when you're done because she and Gordon would make sure nobody went up there otherwise.<br/>
<br/>
That's when Sienna had come over and told you that Chelsea said the two of you needed to know each other intimately and that she should do what she can to make you happy. Really that as long as it was the two of you up here that she should listen to you and do what you want.<br/>
<br/>
You hadn't meant for her to really give you a blow job, you'd only said that as a joke but before you knew it she had knelt down, pulled down your pants and that was how you'd gotten your first bit of head. At that point there was nothing left to lose so you decided "fuck it" and told her you wanted to go all the way.<br/>
<br/>
"So did you like it?" she asks.<br/>
<br/>
"It was great," you reply earnestly. "What about you? You liked it, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I... yeah, it was great," she says and the false enthusiasm is obvious to you.<br/>
<br/>
"Was I that bad?" you ask dejected.<br/>
<br/>
Sienna just leans over and drapes her arms over your shoulders. "For a virgin I sure as shit have had worse," she says to cheer you up. "Don't worry about it. We can keep going if you want, practice makes perfect and all."<br/>
<br/>
You turn your head and give her a kiss. "So what if I wanted you to be my girlfriend? Would you have to do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea did say to make you happy," she sighs. "Not trying to sound disappointed. It's just having to take orders from that cunt is fucking weird. But yeah, if you wanna date then I guess I'm cool with it. Is that what you want?"<br/>
<br/>
But you hold off on answering her. Instead you're focused on the fact the mask work. The thing actually worked! So with this you could swap with Yumi... but you're having second thoughts about that. You'll do a swap but with Yumi? She's a friend, you think, so do you want to just do that to her? Maybe you'll go with someone else.<br/>
<br/>
Or if Chelsea wants Yumi to help you she can just put one of these masks on her.<br/>
<br/>
Or if she wants Yumi to help then she can swap with Yumi herself.</span></div></div>


path: 113122112131
author_id: rugal
title: Good for the Goose and the Gander
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I don't know what I want," you finally confess. "Well, that's not true I guess. There's one thing I want right now."<br/>
<br/>
With that your hand goes down around her ass causing Sienna to jump. She seems to get hint however and shifts around to move in front of you. She sits in your lap wrapping her legs around your waist and her arms are draped around your neck. Sienna's a girl with some meat on her; she's not big but she's not skinny and she's nice and soft. Her face regards you with an almost feline amusement and her hair, short and bleached, hangs just a bit over her eyebrow so you make sure to brush it back.<br/>
<br/>
She then leans in and her mouth meets yours and soon afterwards her tongue is in your mouth probing around and wrestling with your own tongue. Eventually you lean her backwards down onto the mat. She giggles at that as you lay on top of her, then gasps as you enter her but very quickly she pulls you closer to her and holds you tight as you begin thrusting. Sienna works too as you can feel her moving along with you as she moans and whimpers softly. She's making you feel really good which shouldn't be surprising since, if rumors you've heard are even slightly true, she certainly would know what she's doing.<br/>
<br/>
She eventually lets out one last, loud cry as you finish and roll off of her. The both of you sit up and smile at each other but her eyelids begin to droop, her head begins to drop and she falls forward into your lap.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, you alright?" you ask as you shake her. She breathes heavily but steadily and within a minute or two she brings her head back up.<br/>
<br/>
"Holy shit!" she exclaims with shock.<br/>
<br/>
"Was I that good?" you ask at least somewhat sarcastically.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh man, yeah you were way better than last time," she giggles, "you just need to have confidence in yourself ya know?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess because I really wanted to do it," you say with exhaustion. "Um, not trying to insult you. I just wasn't expecting it the first time."<br/>
<br/>
Sienna just sighs and rests her head on your chest. "Hey so, like, what I asked you a couple minutes ago?" she asks. "The offer's still there. You want me to be your girlfriend I'll be your girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"Because Chelsea said you had to be my girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, she only said to do what I could to make you happy and if that's what would make you happy," she sighs. "But I can still make my own decisions too you know? Don't laugh but I'm kind of a romantic and you're a nice guy, way nicer than any of the other fucks I've been with."<br/>
<br/>
You look down at her, head on your chest and eyes closed in contentment. Would that be her making her own decision? How much of that is the girl herself and how much is Chelsea's "suggestions" holding sway over her? You've certainly seen Sienna around and you know her as gruff, acerbic and kind of trashy. This girl you're with, though sharing the same name and look, is soft, sweet and demure.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe that's just how she is privately. Still you can't say that you hate it or even that you hate the idea. Sure it may be Sienna under a mask of herself and at the beck and call of Chelsea but there's nothing (outside of her following Chelsea's orders) to differentiate her from the real girl at least physically. You'd objected to this spell but it works perfectly and, shamed as you are to admit it, you're now kind of excited.<br/>
<br/>
But dating Sienna; a golem as a girlfriend. Is that what you want? Well she's still real, mostly, it's not like she's a robot or made of clay or something. And she's showing you more affection, genuine or ordered, than Lisa ever had. Would making Sienna your girlfriend really be so bad?<br/>
<br/>
You decide that it might not be bad but you're definitely not comfortable with the idea. If you were ever dating Sienna -- fat chance -- you'd want it to be the real girl and not this one that's probably only showing you any affection because Chelsea told her too, despite what she might say or think.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry," you finally tell her, "but I don't think a relationship like that would work out."<br/>
<br/>
You expect her to be heartbroken over that but it's to your surprise when all she does is laugh. "Man, okay. No need to be such a fucking pussy about it," she says playfully. "If you don't want one then you don't want it. But if you ever do or just want a quick fuck..." She shrugs her shoulders and begins putting her clothes back on.<br/>
<br/>
You follow suit and head off to calculus, a mistake you realize when Kowalski makes it a point to ask you in front of the entire class why you're late. You can only come up with a dumb excuse of going to the bathroom which causes some snickering and giggling, even among friends like Carson or otherwise nice girls like Anne Starkey. That leaves you embarrassed and wondering if you should just take Chelsea up on her offer to switch with Yumi.<br/>
<br/>
As you feel yourself reddening even more as you take your seat sandwiched between Brianna Kirschke and Lacey Salter. They don't say anything to you or even really look at you but you can't help feeling like they're judging you which causes you to slump.<br/>
<br/>
Yeah, you'll take Chelsea up on her offer... but you're not quite sure about switching with Yumi. Maybe you can convince her to let you switch with someone else.<br/>
<br/>
After sixth period you'd made sure to text Chelsea and tell her that you're up for doing a swap but that you want to talk about it with her first. You worry that making such a "demand" of her will piss her off but come the end of eighth period you simply get a text back telling you to meet at her place. When Caleb and Keith catch up to you, you apologize and tell them that there's some stuff you have to do but that you'll catch up later.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Oh Will, I'm so sorry," Chelsea coos sympathetically; you nearly jump when she places a hand on your knee. Once again you're at Chelsea's house sitting across from her on the back porch. Part of you is thinking that you could get used to this.<br/>
<br/>
"I had Kowalski back in tenth and he was an asshole then too." Her expression, however, soon brightens. "Oh but Sienna told me that the two of you got along well," she says and then gives you a wink before adding, "really well."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you say and feel yourself reddening at that, "I guess that was all the proof that I really needed to know that this stuff works."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm so glad to hear that!" she exclaims as she clasps her hands together happily. "You said that you're willing to do the swap then now that you know there's no problem with it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I am," you tell her, "but I don't want to switch with Yumi." That gets a confused reaction from her so you press on. "I just... I still consider Yumi a friend even after, you know, she's kind of blown me off recently. Well, not blown me off but she doesn't mention anything about Lisa but also doesn't ignore me either."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's face once again turns sympathetic. "I understand, it can be really hard to want to do that to your friend," she says in as understanding a tone as she can muster. "If someone wanted me to replace Maria I don't think I'd be able to do it. But that's fine, there's still others. We can swap you with Cindy instead."<br/>
<br/>
With Cindy? The platinum blonde beauty who's Chelsea's rival on the squad and part of the same clique as Yumi and the Garners and Lin Pol and thus Lisa? But she's also dating Seth Javits who's on the basketball team and is the chief tormentor of Keith. Plus you're not sure how much you like the idea of getting railed by Javits.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, well, this is all going to be new to me so, uh, I don't," you pause, "I kind of don't want to be a girl that has, um, a boyfriend."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea is silent for moment, her face neutral as she contemplates you. You're worried that you've pissed her off but just as soon the bright, friendly expression returns. "Okay, that's understandable too. I guess if I had to be with someone like Seth instead of with my Pookie I wouldn't want to do it either," she says much to your relief. "But you still want to swap right? And with someone who could help you with Lisa? Well let's think of who that could be."<br/>
<br/>
You spend some time talking with her... well really she does most of the talking as she brings up and dismisses some names, rationalizes others, moves on to new ones, comes back and re-evaluates old ones. Finally, however, she has it narrowed down to three possible people for you to swap with.<br/>
<br/>
The first is Eva Garner, yet another cheerleader who's part of the same group as Yumi and Cindy. When asked why her and not her sister Jessica, since you're not sure if there's much of a difference (aside from hair length and Jessica being slightly bitchier), Chelsea tells you that when the Garners were brought up that in your estimation you see Lisa with Eva a little more than Jessica. It doesn't really matter though, she supposes, and if you want Jessica then that'll work too.<br/>
<br/>
The next name she brings up is Deanna Showalter. Deanna is part of the AP group, same as Lisa. You're not sure if they're friendly or not since you've never really seen them hang out together but Chelsea knows that Deanna's a gossip because the two are on at least somewhat friendly terms and she feeds gossip and rumors to Chelsea regularly. If anyone would know about Lisa, then, it'd be her.<br/>
<br/>
There's one last possibility too, someone that you know Lisa is friendly with and who could exert considerable influence on her. Chelsea doesn't need to offer more justification as the name itself is justification enough: Kelsey Blankenship.</span></div></div>


path: 113122112132
author_id: rugal
title: My Girlfriend the Golem
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I don't know what I want," you finally confess. "Well, that's not true I guess. There's one thing I want right now."<br/>
<br/>
With that your had goes down around her ass causing Sienna to jump. She seems to get hint however and shifts around to move in front of you. She sits in your lap wrapping her legs around your waist and her arms are draped around your neck. Sienna's a girl with some meat on her; she's not big but she's not skinny and she's nice and soft. Her face regards you with an almost feline amusement and her hair, short and bleached, hangs just a bit over her eyebrow so you make sure to brush it back.<br/>
<br/>
She then leans in and her mouth meets yours and soon afterwards her tongue is in your mouth probing around and wrestling with your own tongue. Eventually you lean her backwards down onto the mat. She giggles at that as you lay on top of her, then gasps as you enter her but very quickly she pulls you closer to her and holds you tight as you begin thrusting. Sienna works too as you can feel her moving along with you as she moans and whimpers softly. She's making you feel really good which shouldn't be surprising since, if rumors you've heard are even slightly true, she certainly would know what she's doing.<br/>
<br/>
She eventually lets out one last, loud cry as you finish and roll off of her. The both of you sit up and smile at each other but her eyelids begin to droop, her head begins to drop and she falls forward into your lap.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, you alright?" you ask as you shake her. She breathes heavily but steadily and within a minute or two she brings her head back up.<br/>
<br/>
"Holy shit!" she exclaims with shock.<br/>
<br/>
"Was I that good?" you ask at least somewhat sarcastically.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh man, yeah you were way better than last time," she giggles, "you just need to have confidence yourself ya know?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess because I really wanted to do it," you say with exhaustion. "Um, not trying to insult you. I just wasn't expecting it the first time."<br/>
<br/>
Sienna just sighs and rests her head on your chest. "Hey so, like, what I asked you a couple minutes ago?" she asks. "The offer's still there. You want me to be your girlfriend I'll be your girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"Because Chelsea said you had to be my girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, she only said to do what I could to make you happy and if that's what would make you happy," she sighs. "But I can still make my own decisions too you know? Don't laugh but I'm kind of a romantic and you're a nice guy, way nicer than any of the other fucks I've been with."<br/>
<br/>
You look down at her, head on your chest and eyes closed in contentment. Would that be her making her own decision? How much of that is the girl herself and how much is Chelsea's "suggestions" holding sway over her? You've certainly seen Sienna around and you know her as gruff, acerbic and kind of trashy. This girl you're with, though sharing the same name and look, is soft, sweet and demure.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe that's just how she is privately. Still you can't say that you hate it or even that you hate the idea. Sure it may be Sienna under a mask of herself and at the beck and call of Chelsea but there's nothing (outside of her following Chelsea's orders) to differentiate her from the real girl at least physically. You'd objected to this spell but it works perfectly and, shamed as you are to admit it, you're now kind of excited.<br/>
<br/>
But dating Sienna; a golem as a girlfriend. Is that what you want? Well she's still real, mostly, it's not like she's a robot or made of clay or something. And she's showing you more affection, genuine or ordered, than Lisa ever had. Would making Sienna your girlfriend really be so bad?<br/>
<br/>
"So then you want to be my girlfriend?" you ask her.<br/>
<br/>
"God, yeah I just fucking told you that."<br/>
<br/>
"Well then sure, I'll go out with you," you say as she lifts her head up to look at you. "Just, you know, I want us to get along like this but I don't want you to stop being you."<br/>
<br/>
She looks at you a bit wide-eyed for a moment before a smirk breaks out on her face. "Fucker," she says before leaning in to give you another kiss.<br/>
<br/>
You think to yourself that if it's working this well with Sienna with seemingly no complications then why not do the same thing to Yumi? You're not keen on replacing her yourself so this way you can still get information from her while making sure that it's still her... mostly.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I'm glad to see that it's working out so well, especially for you," Chelsea smiles but then quickly scowls, "but I don't know why <i>she's</i> here."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you too, boss," Sienna shoots back.<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea's about to return fire but you quickly jump in. "Look, you wanted to show me that there was no danger in using this new stuff and you should consider it a success," you tell her before turning back into carving the runes required for the metal band. "You said you wanted us to get to know each other real good right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well sure but I meant, like, I wanted her to suck your dick or something," she says.<br/>
<br/>
Sienna laughs at that. "Oh man did I!" she says. "I did more than that actually. You should try it with him princess, might be better than what you're getting now. Aren't gorillas supposed to have small dicks?"<br/>
<br/>
Again you jump in before Chelsea can go ballistic as, after all, you're up in her room and thus can't draw much attention. "Sienna," you say before looking at Chelsea who merely grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"Just stop being so mean to me, okay?" she finally says. "Don't insult me all the time. I didn't put that mask on you so you could do that."<br/>
<br/>
A change seems to come over Sienna and you notice her demeanor affect a more submissive tone. "Sorry," she apologizes.<br/>
<br/>
"Why <i>did</i> you put that mask on her? Besides just trying to test it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I did it because... well I told you why I chose her," Chelsea says. "She likes to talk a lot of crap and I just thought if we were testing it then why not help myself out a little bit? Is that wrong?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's kind of selfish," you tell her, "but I guess I can see why."<br/>
<br/>
"Well it's not selfish," she counters, "because I wanted to help you out too, for all the help you've been giving me. You don't deserve to be treated so awfully by Lisa so I thought, you know, if I told Sienna to be nice to you then you'd see that this really is a two-way relationship. That I want to help you out as much as you want to help me." She then gives a little squee and seems to brighten up. "And it worked right? She's, like, your girlfriend now right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I... I guess so," you stay before looking back at Sienna who gives you a smile. "I mean sure, she is."<br/>
<br/>
But you're suddenly very aware of Chelsea's presence behind you and she leans over to place a hand on your shoulder causing you to stiffen. "See, Will? I told you that everything was going to be fine and that I'm here to help," and with that she moves away. "Anyway, how long do you think that's going to take?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not too much longer," you say as you continue working. "I'll have it done before Yumi gets here."<br/>
<br/>
"And do we have any more of that stuff we made earlier? The stuff that you put in the masks?"<br/>
<br/>
"More than enough for another mask," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"Great!" she exclaims. "I'll talk to Yumi then and invite her over," she states before adding. "But you're sure you don't want to just switch with her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Positive," you say. "This should work out just as good for what we need right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Better even," is all Chelsea says.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Wow, Yumi, you look so good!" Chelsea exclaims as she clasps her hands together. "Are you eating better or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"Same as always," replies Yumi with not much enthusiasm.<br/>
<br/>
"What about me? You think I look good right?" asks Chelsea. This leads to a long and confused silence by Yumi as she's unsure of what to say. Thankfully for her Chelsea knows that she needs to say. "I said, Yumi," she says with a bit more irritation, "that I look good, right? Tell me that I look good."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi's eyes widen a bit then slacken. "Okay, yes. You look good, Chelsea," she says before sighing and adding, "you always do."<br/>
<br/>
"Oooh!" Chelsea squeals before clasping Yumi's hands. "Now look at Will. Tell him that he looks good."<br/>
<br/>
Even if it's a Yumi that's under Chelsea's control you still can't help but feel nervous as she eyes you up and down. "You're looking good, Will," she finally says causing Chelsea to cheer even more. She then leans in and whispers something in Yumi's ear.<br/>
<br/>
Yumi's posture changes and she gets a different look on her face. She gives you a confident smile and makes her way over to you and there's something very familiar in the way she's looking at you and moving. "Oh Will," she coos sympathetically as she strokes the side of your face. "The way Lisa's been treating you has been just terrible. The Garners too have been really awful and so have I. I'm sorry, Will, forgive me?" she asks as she gives you puppy dog eyes.<br/>
<br/>
Even down to the way she's talking, it's like Yumi doing a Chelsea impersonation and there's something about it that you find both very wrong and very stimulating. Especially when she leans in closer to you.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you say, Will? Forgive me and I'll make it up to you," she says. "I'll go out with you."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck is this?" Sienna asks incredulously but is shushed by Chelsea who tells her she's not actually jealous about what she's seeing.<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea?" you ask. "Is this you're idea?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's great, isn't it?" she replies with a smile. "If you want to keep the slut here around as a fuck buddy then that's fine but wouldn't you rather date Yumi instead? She's much prettier and imagine how much the opinions of other people would change if they saw the two of you dating."</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121322
author_id: nirxor
title: Sienna, the challenger
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You don't even fully have time to process what leaves your mouth, the wrong answer, to the wrong person.<br/>
<br/>
"Sorry Chelsea, I've kind of want to stick with Sienna." <br/>
<br/>
You say blurting it out without a second thought. The realization hitting you after Chelsea smiles, a very menacing and out of touch smile. She walks to Yumi with a strange skip, and leans into her ear. Yumi immediately changes in demeanor, she is now staring daggers into you, eerily overwhelming you with her eyes. Yet she does nothing, but wrap her arms around Chelsea, walking behind her, gazing at you from behind her archenemy.<br/>
<br/>
"Am impressed Will, you have a backbone after all. So I guess you'll be with Sienna, while I tend to Yumi's broken heart. Yumi, massage my feet, <b>and enjoy it.</b>" Chelsea finishes, placing one leg over the other dangling it over the now kneeling Yumi. Her face showing how happy she is to receive this order. "Not bad Yumi, but you can do better, kiss them, worship me, and, get off to it." The horror begins as Yumi is suddenly flustered, her face turning red, she is shaking profusely,  her hands are delicately working on her mistress, pushing out all the stress in Chelsea's feet. She begins to gasp and moan a bit, biting her lower lip, letting her hips twitch to the motion she uses, the image of your once reliable and trusted friend, replaced by the toy Chelsea made is forever burned into your eyes. The pleasure Yumi is feeling being only rivaled by Chelsea's pleasure of controling the one who dared to speak out against her. "You're a smart guy Will, you're figuring all this magic stuff out, and, helping me clean up the school. I need you to be able to take care of business and get me some more problematic people. People who get out of line, get hammered back into line. So I need you to help me make this place..... A bit less unbearable." She says as she lets out a moan, obviously enjoying the sight of Yumi being a servant to her every whims.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, yeah I can do that, but tell me ,where do I fit in all this?" You ask, watching Yumi with great despair, as you realize something horrible. <br/>
<br/>
"You can solve the book's secrets, make more masks, and, improve the school! Stick with me, and Sienna will be the last girl on your list of girlfriends, unless you want try being a girl?" She says holding a finger to her lips, taking in the sight of Sienna holding you. The look of Chelsea enjoying picking your brains for any weakness is practically all this has become, but it's cut short by a sudden impulse from her motioning to Sienna. "Yumi stop massaging me and clean yourself up. Sienna, come over here. We need to have some girl talk." Chelsea says as she motions for you to leave the room, a blessing from your new overlord. Before you do however, you're grabbing by Yumi, who kisses you passionately, it's a kiss in which is dominating you, pushing you aggressively onto the wall. You're trapped between the wall and Yumi's feirce kisses, but as quick as it came, it's over. Chelsea just smiling ear to ear. "Don't worry will, it will be only a second, and my offer still stands." She says as you leave the fuck room. Your mind is racing, the scene you watched play out burned into your mind, a message to you.<br/>
<br/>
<i>"If you even <b>think</b> about betraying me, this will be your future. After all, <b> you're</b> more valuable to my plans alive."</i><br/>
<br/>
*****************************************************<br/>
<br/>
The last period is where you feel the chilling grasp of Chelsea's chains on your life losen up a bit, as Yumi has apparently told her BFF, who blabbed about it to Caleb, who confirmed it with you, who then asked about it to Sienna's BFF for further confirmation. Jenny is looking at you in utter disbelief, along with Caleb, Fantima, Jelena, Charles, and, more surprisingly, Andrea. <br/>
<br/>
"Really? REALLY WILL? I wasn't expecting Sienna, out of all the people to choose. I would have placed Caleb and Charles on a higher bet than her!" She mutters, holding her head in her hands. Looking on in disgust at your choice of companionship.<br/>
<br/>
"It's amazing really, it's like watching your kid bring home their first girlfriend." Caleb comments, getting a laugh out of everyone present, even Andrea, which brightens his day even more. <br/>
<br/>
"OMG!!! Please tell me your kidding Sienna? William Prescott? I can't even imagine what made this happen, tell us the juicy gossip girl." Charles cuts in leaning in on her. "I mean don't get me wrong, he's kind of cute, not my kind of guy. Too unkept and unclean, doesn't work out, nice butt though. He's like a two out of five. I can totally make him dress better though, and give him a better haircut, he needs it." He acts out in his overly dramatic style.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks Charles, now I know what to do to not be on your radar." You comment slyly, earning a chuckle from the audience. <br/>
<br/>
"Give me some fucking space, you fucking queer. I didn't come over here to get you drooling over my man." Sienna fires off, punching him in the arm. "So, sometimes we would meet up behind the storage shed to talk. I never even knew the guy before, so I would just bull shit with him, and it just, I don't know, something clicked." She says, letting the group fill in the gaps. <br/>
<br/>
"I'll bet it did." Jenny remarks, looking heavily disappointed in you, utterly devastated by Sienna's presence. Jenny knows a bit more about people, and Sienna's reputation. Something she would make clear when Sienna would tell the cheerleaders off. <br/>
<br/>
"You trying to say something Jenny?" Sienna says, leaning on to the table more, releasing her hold on your body.<br/>
<br/>
"Look we didn't have sex, we just talked it out and Yumi suggested we try it." You cut in, making the group then turn to Yumi, who is back to normal, like none of that stuff ever happened.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I had heard that Sienna went out there to be alone, but when I saw Will talking to her, I thought 'why not?'. They look like a good couple."  She finishes off, grinning at you, causing an akward silence between the group, making them draw a rather outlandish, yet totally plausible, scenario, in which Fantima narrates. <br/>
<br/>
"So, Will and Sienna would meet up and chat behind the school at the storage shed. Yumi saw Will go behind the school, assuming he was doing drugs or something. She watched for a couple days and finally saw the two becoming more and more intimate, and the result of Yumi pushing Will to ask Sienna out, and finally today." Fatima, who artistically drew a detailed line of events with everyone's faces on it, shows the proposed order of events. "Am more surprised that you didn't tell me Sienna."  She turns to the girl now back to your arms. <br/>
<br/>
"Well, it was surprising, like, fucking shot in the dark and making the fucking bullet hit the god damn target head on. I never dated like this really, so it's a nice change of pace. He's also a damn decent dude, so yeah..." She finishes, blushing in a never before seen face, even to her friends. "He's good, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God........ Will, what the ever loving fuck have you done....." Jenny says, back to her utterly back to her devastated state, but not in disgust, she has a smile on her face, seeing as Yumi was the big conspiracy in all of this. "I can't even believe that you made this all happen Yumi, like this is a very big jump, from the calm and conservative Lisa, to Sienna." Her face now having a huge grin, almost enjoying the idea. "Yeah, I can see it being a good thing, for both of them." She comments as the final bell rings, releasing you from their torturous grap.  The group splits ways as they enter the parking lot, Sienna even going to her locker to get some of her stuff for later, but when you reach your truck you see Andrea, approaching you. If there was school beauty pageant, Andrea would win, hands down. While Chelsea may be the face of the school, those who have seen Andrea, know better. Her time spent on the swim team has foraged her into a smooth, yet perfectly balanced woman, strong wide hips, with powerfully toned legs. Her breast are ample, yet have a bounce to them, they appear to be encased in a swimsuit, something she is known to wear under her day clothes. Her body is like a earthen sculpture, made from the finest materials, it's muscles enhancing enough of her shape to capture and enchant all who witness her. The dark silky hair drifting in the breeze, with the aloof expression, makes her a mystery to everyone, she just drift to and fro. Yet, her presence is like a quiet storm, all just bask in it, yet nobody can disturb it, it's that powerful. She glides across the parking lot, sending ripples to all who see her, before she speaks to you. <br/>
<br/>
"I would have never guessed, Sienna's choice of man would have been you William." She begins in her usual unresponsive tone of voice. "Am happy she's dating someone, but am more interested in how you tamed her." She says glancing over you in a slow and detailed study. <br/>
<br/>
"Well it's like she said, something clicked." You say, watching her, the rival of Chelsea, now showing interest in you. She smiles, breaking the ice, or remaking it? It's hard to gauge her, something nobody has been able to do successfully, since she turns down all the people who ask her out.<br/>
<br/>
"For what its worth William, you're probably better than almost every one of the guys she knows. Maybe you'll do some good for her." She says still wearing that smile. "I'll see you two later, preferably not at school." Coolly walking away from your truck. The whole of the parking lot holding their breath, as if the presence of a mighty God silenced them all. It's broken when she get in her car, turns the ignition, and drives out. <br/>
<br/>
"Uh, what the hell was that shit?" You say to yourself, in disbelief about the whole situation. Sienna, who had seen the whole affair, asks about it, after informing her of the small conversation she scratches her head and simply says.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, that's Andrea, don't worry about, just go with it."<br/>
</span></div></div>


path: 113122112133
author_id: rugal
title: A Very Yumi Chelsea
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I don't know what I want," you finally confess. "Well, that's not true I guess. There's one thing I want right now."<br/>
<br/>
With that your hand goes down around her ass causing Sienna to jump. She seems to get hint however and shifts around to move in front of you. She sits in your lap wrapping her legs around your waist and her arms are draped around your neck. Sienna's a girl with some meat on her; she's not big but she's not skinny and she's nice and soft. Her face regards you with an almost feline amusement and her hair, short and bleached, hangs just a bit over her eyebrow so you make sure to brush it back.<br/>
<br/>
She then leans in and her mouth meets yours and soon afterwards her tongue is in your mouth probing around and wrestling with your own tongue. Eventually you lean her backwards down onto the mat. She giggles at that as you lay on top of her, then gasps as you enter her but very quickly she pulls you closer to her and holds you tight as you begin thrusting. Sienna works too as you can feel her moving along with you as she moans and whimpers softly. She's making you feel really good which shouldn't be surprising since, if rumors you've heard are even slightly true, she certainly would know what she's doing.<br/>
<br/>
She eventually lets out one last, loud cry as you finish and roll off of her. The both of you sit up and smile at each other but her eyelids begin to droop, her head begins to drop and she falls forward into your lap.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, you alright?" you ask as you shake her. She breathes heavily but steadily and within a minute or two she brings her head back up.<br/>
<br/>
"Holy shit!" she exclaims with shock.<br/>
<br/>
"Was I that good?" you ask at least somewhat sarcastically.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh man, yeah you were way better than last time," she giggles, "you just need to have confidence in yourself ya know?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess because I really wanted to do it," you say with exhaustion. "Um, not trying to insult you. I just wasn't expecting it the first time."<br/>
<br/>
Sienna just sighs and rests her head on your chest. "Hey so, like, what I asked you a couple minutes ago?" she asks. "The offer's still there. You want me to be your girlfriend I'll be your girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"Because Chelsea said you had to be my girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, she only said to do what I could to make you happy and if that's what would make you happy," she sighs. "But I can still make my own decisions too you know? Don't laugh but I'm kind of a romantic and you're a nice guy, way nicer than any of the other fucks I've been with."<br/>
<br/>
You look down at her, head on your chest and eyes closed in contentment. Would that be her making her own decision? How much of that is the girl herself and how much is Chelsea's "suggestions" holding sway over her? You've certainly seen Sienna around and you know her as gruff, acerbic and kind of trashy. This girl you're with, though sharing the same name and look, is soft, sweet and demure.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe that's just how she is privately. Still you can't say that you hate it or even that you hate the idea. Sure it may be Sienna under a mask of herself and at the beck and call of Chelsea but there's nothing (outside of her following Chelsea's orders) to differentiate her from the real girl at least physically. You'd objected to this spell but it works perfectly and, shamed as you are to admit it, you're now kind of excited.<br/>
<br/>
But dating Sienna; a golem as a girlfriend. Is that what you want? Well she's still real, mostly, it's not like she's a robot or made of clay or something. And she's showing you more affection, genuine or ordered, than Lisa ever had. Would making Sienna your girlfriend really be so bad?<br/>
<br/>
You decide that it might not be bad but you're definitely not comfortable with the idea. If you were ever dating Sienna -- fat chance -- you'd want it to be the real girl and not this one that's probably only showing you any affection because Chelsea told her too, despite what she might say or think.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sorry," you finally tell her, "but I don't think a relationship like that would work out."<br/>
<br/>
You expect her to be heartbroken over that but it's to your surprise when all she does is laugh. "Man, okay. No need to be such a fucking pussy about it," she says playfully. "If you don't want one then you don't want it. But if you ever do or just want a quick fuck..." She shrugs her shoulders and begins putting her clothes back on.<br/>
<br/>
You follow suit and head off to calculus, a mistake you realize when Kowalski makes it a point to ask you in front of the entire class why you're late. You can only come up with a dumb excuse of going to the bathroom which causes some snickering and giggling, even among friends like Carson or otherwise nice girls like Anne Starkey. That leaves you embarrassed and wondering if you should just take Chelsea up on her offer to switch with Yumi.<br/>
<br/>
But you're still not sold on switching so instead you resolve to make a compromise with her, one that you hope she'll go along with.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"You what?!" Chelsea exclaims in frustration.<br/>
<br/>
"I... I said," you stutter, "that I'll do a swap but you have to do one as well."<br/>
<br/>
"And who are you to make demands of me?" she asks incredulously. You're back on her porch at her home and to say she's incensed by your offer is an understatement. Of course you also haven't really had much of a chance to explain it.<br/>
<br/>
"J-just let me explain," you tell her. "I'm not stupid," you say preemptively as you're sure she's thinking it. "If you want me to switch with Yumi it's because you want to help me but you're getting something out of it in return. I know that you and her are on opposite sides of the fence, she tells us often enough, so..."<br/>
<br/>
"So what?" Chelsea says crossing her arms.<br/>
<br/>
"So then like I said you can do a swap first. <i>You</i> swap with Yumi and once we know it works I can follow you or I can take over for Yumi after you or something."<br/>
<br/>
"Me swap with Yumi?" she sneers, "That's," but then she pauses and gets a thoughtful look on her face. "Me swap with Yumi," she mutters, "that would mean I could... yeah, I see," she says before smiling. "Okay, fine. I'll do it, I'll swap with Yumi myself. I can talk myself up, bring her into my orbit. But you," she says.<br/>
<br/>
"M-me?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"If I'm agreeing to do this then I want you to go where I feel like it'd be best to have you," she says. "Somewhere where we can still get together regularly and work on the book."<br/>
<br/>
So she's going to be that naked about putting her own desires ahead of what was originally pitched as helping you. But at this point you're in too deep to really argue so going along is the only option that you'll have. "Okay," you acquiesce, "that's fair. But who?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'd have to think about it," she says. "One of the twins or Cindy would be obvious. Although," she gets thoughtful once more, "I <i>was</i> looking into replacing Michelle because she's been useless as an addition. Jenny or one of the junior girls from the gymnastics class Yumi and Gloria take after school. Oh but that's down the road," she says. "How many masks do you have?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, just one," you admit as you hand her the second of the two you'd finished last night.<br/>
<br/>
"But how are we supposed to do this switch if you only have one?" she whines.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I can just make another one and tomorrow--"<br/>
<br/>
"Tomorrow? No!" she says emphatically. "We're doing this today, I want it started as soon as possible. How long does it take you to make these?"<br/>
<br/>
"With all the material and starting from scratch? I'd say give me an hour and a half maybe?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea just glares at you. She says nothing for a moment and it doesn't take long for you to get the hint. You'll head home and text her when it's ready you tell her. She simply says that there's stuff in the loft which should still be unlocked.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your heart thumps, your palms sweat and you shake with nervous anticipation. Yumi Saito is laying unconscious on Chelsea's bed, the blank mask copying her body and mind, and Chelsea's ordered you to remove her clothes. The socks come off first, her shoes were already off, exposing dainty feet. Then come her shorts and shirt and finally her bra and panties and there, in all of her glory, is Yumi Saito.<br/>
<br/>
You nearly faint.<br/>
<br/>
Quickly you turn away however as Chelsea, now clad only in a bathrobe, comes back into the room and leaves her clothes on the bed next to Yumi. She waits for a few minutes not really saying much until the mask emerges from Yumi and very quickly and excitedly she snatches it up, grabs Yumi's clothes and heads back out of the room into the bathroom across the hall. She says to just text her once everything's ready because she wants to take some time "adjusting" to her new body.<br/>
<br/>
That leaves you alone with the real Yumi, bit of the goop and a mask of Chelsea that she'd made while you were working on this mask that was used on Yumi. You're supposed to use the goop on the Chelsea mask with the bit of Chelsea's hair and then put it on her leaving a Chelsea golem that's under the real one's control. But something about that still isn't sitting right with you. You know that nominally you should go with Chelsea but part of you wonders why you don't just use your own hair in the mask instead?<br/>
<br/>
That'd give you some leverage over Chelsea to be sure and as Sienna had shown you could always tell the golem Chelsea to listen to the real one in order to keep up the charade.<br/>
<br/>
But that might be a bit complicated and a third, more radical idea hits you. Don't treat the mask. Just put the mask as is on Yumi and when she comes to explain everything to her. Maybe the two of you, together, can work to teach Chelsea a lesson.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221121333
author_id: rugal
title: A Very Chelsea Yumi
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's a very big risk to take and it's one that could backfire on you in any number of ways: Chelsea could walk in at any second, Yumi could just bolt or go off on you... she could even sell you out to Chelsea in return, stranger things have likely happened after all. But still you're not sold on giving Chelsea control of the book and these masks. She'd tried to use Sienna to placate you, that much is obvious, and it'd almost had the intended effect... almost but not quite. Quickly she'd showed that any interest in helping you was, if not a complete farce, then secondary to helping herself and her position.<br/>
<br/>
You're also worried about what she might do to Yumi once she feels that she's done what she's needed to and it's time to go back to being herself. Would she just keep Yumi under a mask to control or would she try to ruin her? Maybe she'd do both.<br/>
<br/>
So you feel like letting Yumi in on what's happening is the more moral option and a way to counter Chelsea if that's indeed what needs to be done.<br/>
<br/>
So you put away the goop and instead take the mask of Chelsea and place it onto Yumi's face. You watch with fascination as it sinks into her and Yumi begins changing. Her hair, straight and dark and short, becomes long and blonde and falls in loose waves. Her face, a youthful mix of the prettiness and cuteness you'd see out of some Japanese pop singer, instead takes on a classically all-American girl beauty. Her body, short and lithe like a gymnast's, becomes more filled out and larger chested. In what seems like the blink of an eye Yumi Saito is gone, replaced with the naked and sleeping form of Chelsea Cooper.<br/>
<br/>
You feel yourself turn very red as you look and then you start to see her stir. Quickly you do an about face moving to the other side of the room and looking at the wall. It's a moment or two before you really start to hear anything.<br/>
<br/>
"What?" comes Chelsea's groggy voice causing you to tense up. "Wh-what... what's going on?" she asks as she is seemingly becoming more aware of the situation. "Who are you?!" she exclaims a little louder causing you to jump. You try to keep facing in the opposite direction though.<br/>
<br/>
"Shh, Yumi you need to keep it down," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Why should I keep it down?!" she exclaims just as loud. "And you didn't answer my question, who are you?! Actually who am I?! My voice is all weird and I <i>feel</i> weird! What the hell is going on?!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm... it's me; it's Will," you tell her.<br/>
<br/>
"Prescott?" asks Yumi suspiciously. "Will?! Wh-what are you doing here?! I'm... I'm naked and I'm not me and how did I even end up like this?! You... you better explain everything to me <i>right now</i> or I swear--"<br/>
<br/>
"I will, I promise!" you exclaim. "But first, uh, you'll want to put your clothes on. I can't stare at a wall forever if we want to talk."<br/>
<br/>
"My clothes?" she asks in confusion. You hear a bit more shuffling and some confused noises. "These aren't... these are what Chelsea was wearing earlier."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, like I said your clothes. You're Chelsea Cooper right now."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm... what?!"<br/>
<br/>
This time it's loud and you pray to God that Chelsea is absorbed in whatever she's doing as Yumi that she's not going to come rushing in. "What are you even talking about?!" comes the further cry.<br/>
<br/>
"Look, I'll explain everything!" you state, "Just... just get dressed because right now you're Chelsea Cooper and in a few minutes or maybe sooner Yumi Saito is going to come through that door and you can <i>not</i> freak out because it's going to really be Chelsea looking like you and she's going to expect you to be doing everything she says."<br/>
<br/>
"I... what the hell?! I am <i>not</i> going to listen to Chelsea," she replies, "and I'm not going to be Chelsea either! I don't know what you've done but undo it Will!"<br/>
<br/>
"Please, Yumi, just do it!" you plead. "I'll explain everything, just pretend you're Chelsea. In fact don't listen to her, just act like Chelsea. You should know how to do that right? It'll work out much better if you just act like you're her and ignore any sort of commands she gives you. Do that and we'll get her out of here and then I can explain everything I promise."<br/>
<br/>
There's some grumbling and some more shuffling and then you finally hear the Chelseafied Yumi -- maybe it's just easier to think of her as Chelsea -- speak. "I swear, Will, you better tell me <i>everything</i> or so help me..."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Ah, well that was certainly something! I'm feeling totally refreshed!"<br/>
<br/>
Those are the words spoken by Chelsea, decked out fully as Yumi, as she enters the room. The words, intonation, the way she moves, it's all enough to creep you out a bit. The looks and the voice are there but everything else is so much more Chelsea than Yumi that it's like Chelsea is prancing around in Yumi's skin... which, for all practical purposes, she is. It's a bit grotesque when you think of it like that. It makes it weird to think of her as Yumi but if you're thinking of Yumi as Chelsea then you suppose it's vice versa for Chelsea as well.<br/>
<br/>
"How about you, Will?" she asks. "You know with the fact I only come by to complain about how much of a bitch Chelsea is we never really get a chance to talk. What do you say we ditch Chelsea and get out of here?"<br/>
<br/>
You look over and you can practically see the gears in Chelsea's head grinding. However you don't say anything and in fact don't even need to. "Who do you think you are to just take off on me like this?" asks Chelsea in as imperious a tone as she can gather. "And taking Will? I invited him over so he's staying here so we can talk."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi looks wide-eyed at that for a second but then starts to laugh. "That's rich <i>Chelsea</i> but I don't have to take that from you," she says. "Will and I are going to hang out and talk. You don't have any problem with that, right?"<br/>
<br/>
You cast another glance at Chelsea thinking that you'll have to remind her to stay in character but it's a worry that proves unfounded. "Have a problem with that? Of course I have a problem with that," she says with a smirk. "Leave it to you to look a gift horse in the mouth though... or do your people eat horses? I forget."<br/>
<br/>
Yumi, now, looks in a way that you can only describe as both angry and mortified. "You," she says now with more venom. "I'm telling you that you have no problem. You're going to let Will go with me and that's it."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not letting you do anything <i>Yumi</i>," Chelsea sneers. "Will and I are going to have a chat. That's final. You can run along now."<br/>
<br/>
You can see the desperate anger building on Yumi's face as she looks at you for assistance. "Will," she whines, "why isn't she listening?! She's supposed to do whatever I tell her!"<br/>
<br/>
You can only put on your best confused face. "I-I don't know," you stutter, "maybe... maybe there's a limit to how many of those things you can have before they'll stop listening to you?"<br/>
<br/>
"But I only have two!" she continues to whine.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe two's the limit then?" you shrug, "I don't know. But, um, if she wants me to stay..."<br/>
<br/>
"You're going to..." she looks at you and then looks at her doppelganger then back at you. "Fine! But tomorrow we're going to figure out what's going on or I swear..."<br/>
<br/>
With that she stomps out of the room but not before making sure to grab the book off of her desk. You and Chelsea follow her as you make half-hearted pleas for her to stay but she ignores you and is soon out the front door. It worked, you can hardly believe it. You managed to just win a small battle of wits against Chelsea freakin' Cooper! You can't keep from grinning as you turn back to the impostor Chelsea. "Alright, so we did that," you say as you head back to Chelsea's room. "And I'll keep up my end of the bargain. I'll tell you everything."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
And you do tell her everything. You tell her about finding the book at Arnholm's and giving it to Caleb. About how he tried to use it to get closer to Chelsea but instead how it ended up in the hands of her and Gordon and what Gordon managed to do to himself. You talk about Chelsea coming to you for help and you agreeing to help her and your attempts to work through the spells as well as what they do. You, of course, make sure to tell her about Chelsea's own suggestion that you replace her instead and how, not thinking, you'd suggested it to her instead.<br/>
<br/>
You also apologize more times than you think the girl with Chelsea's face would like to hear.<br/>
<br/>
"Will," she finally says as she sighs and shakes her head. "This immaturity and lack of thinking is why," but quickly she waves it off, "whatever." She then takes a breath, "So Chelsea's running around as me and I'm Chelsea because of these masks and she thinks that this one is treated with some special stuff that should put me under her control."<br/>
<br/>
"That's the gist of it," you admit. "I didn't do anything to the mask though, we wouldn't be talking otherwise. It's just the more I thought about it the more I thought that it'd be nice to teach Chelsea a lesson of some kind."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it's dumb that it got to this point but I agree with that sentiment," she says. "So we might as well go all in. She thinks I'm a double of her that she can't control so I'll be extra Chelsea," she says before quickly adding, "I could do it without the memories since I've heard it enough from her."<br/>
<br/>
"She's got the book, we'll have to get it back from her," you say. "She's also going to want to put me somewhere too."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe you should do what she asks then," Chelsea says. "You know, act as a mole?"<br/>
<br/>
"But if she catches on to the fact I'm a mole I'm dead," you counter. "She'll put me under one of those masks too."<br/>
<br/>
"Then act long enough to get the book?" she shrugs. "Then just hide somewhere under some disguise so she can't find you."</span></div></div>


path: 113122113
author_id: seuzz
title: The Case for Running Away
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Monday afternoon. Start of sixth period.</i> A meaty arm hooks you around the neck and hauls you into the surging crowd. You're dragged backward, which is a good angle for taking in the wide-eyed stares of all the students your captor is shoving out of the way as he pulls you ...<br/>
<br/>
Into a bathroom. <i>What a cliche,</i> you think. You're forced into a stall as everyone else in the bathroom scrambles for safety in the hall outside.<br/>
<br/>
Gordon bends over you with a scowl. "I got a bunch of sand bags in the back of my VW," he says. "I'm told they're for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Today?" you squeak. "I thought you weren't supposed to—"<br/>
<br/>
Gordon grabs you by the front of your shirt and pins you against the wall behind the toilet. "So it <i>was</i> your idea," he snarls. "That fucking dirt—"<br/>
<br/>
"It was <i>Chelsea's</i> idea," you insist. "She just needed you to give it to me because I'm the one who's ... who's ..." You trail off. Gordon's expression tells you you're not doing yourself any favors with these pathetic explanations.<br/>
<br/>
"If it's for you, it's your fault. Come with me <i>now</i> so we can get that shit moved."<br/>
<br/>
"Now? I've got class!"<br/>
<br/>
"So do I, and do I look like I give a fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
You wince, but Gordon lets you drop. You scurry out the bathroom after him, and through the long hallways out to the student parking lot.<br/>
<br/>
You're not parked anywhere close to him, and he refuses to move his VW Bug, and there's no empty parking space near his car, so you have to move the sandbags halfway across the parking lot. The fucker refuses to help, too. "I dug that shit up like I was told," he snarls. "No one said anything about me having to move it a second time." It takes you almost twenty minutes to move the bags, and you're ready to drop by the time you're done.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, message from Chelsea," Gordon says when you return, panting, to where he's waiting. "She wants to see that book or whatever it is, look at what comes next. She says you guys can start on that while waiting for— Pff! Whatever it is you and her are working on." He glares at you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That brings things to a crisis point, as far as you're concerned, and since you're half inclined to run anyway, you go ahead and skip the rest of the day. (It's not like you'll be missing anything: a seventh-period study hall and an eight-period bullshit Astronomy class.) You hop in your truck and drive out to the old elementary school near your house. You don't bother moving the sandbags to the basement—you're not planning to do anything with the dirt anyway—and just camp out in the basement with the grimoire, the supplies, and your own dark and frightened thoughts.<br/>
<br/>
You need to get away from Chelsea. You need to get somewhere safe where she can't get to you.<br/>
<br/>
Well, the safest spot, you have to admit, would be inside Chelsea herself. If <i>you</i> were Chelsea and <i>she</i> were your slave, then she couldn't get to you, and <i>you'd</i> be Gordon's boss.<br/>
<br/>
And the idea has definite attractions. <br/>
<br/>
But you don't want to have to deal with her friends. Besides, Gordon's accident has made a mess of things, and you don't want to be nearby if that golem-thing he turned himself into goes berserk. <br/>
<br/>
No, it's best if you run off someplace where she won't think to look for you, while taking the grimoire and all the magic supplies so she won't be able to follow you or do anything with them.<br/>
<br/>
But you're a high school senior. You don't have the resources to just skip town. Besides, it would really piss your parents off if you tried to do that.<br/>
<br/>
You grit your teeth.<br/>
<br/>
That magic book has made a mess of your life. It looks like the only way out is to use the same magic book to swap your life for someone else's.<br/>
<br/>
But whose?<br/>
<br/>
Okay, stupid question. There are dozens, hundreds of possibilities. Billions, even, if you had time and money enough to jet off to any and every corner of the world.<br/>
<br/>
But you don't want to go that far. You don't even want to leave town. Aside from the fact that you're too intimidated by the idea of leaving the familiar precincts of Saratoga Falls, you would like to stay close enough that you can keep an eye on Chelsea. You want to see how she reacts to your disappearance, and to see if anything happens to her.<br/>
<br/>
So the way you see it, you've got to find yourself an alias where you can spy on Chelsea without being really obvious about it.<br/>
<br/>
Your first thought is that you should assume the identity of one of her friends. But then you have to ask yourself: What if you're not able to pull off the impersonation?<br/>
<br/>
And that raises another question: Just how good are these masks as disguises? You've never tried one yourself.<br/>
<br/>
You pull out the mask you made. It's a dull, whitish color, and needs to be polished. <br/>
<br/>
It's a well-crafted thing, having the appearance of a classic "tragedian's mask," but without the eye- or mouth-holes. It has lips and a chin and a nose; a brow ridge and subtle cheek bones. But it's also a very modest thing, and an artist of only moderate skill—which you are not!—could have cast something like it from plaster. So it seems inconceivable that such a thing could contain within it an exact copy of someone's body as well as their mind.<br/>
<br/>
But the fake Gordon that you and Chelsea put together looks and acts just like the real Gordon, so that proves it's possible.<br/>
<br/>
Wait. Does it?<br/>
<br/>
You made that fake Gordon by putting a mask of Gordon onto a golem that was itself formed using Gordon's body. Maybe it's such a perfect duplicate because it's a copy of Gordon sitting on top of the real guy? Maybe it wouldn't be such a perfect copy if it was sitting on you? After all—<br/>
<br/>
Your phone dings, and you jump. Text from Chelsea: <i>meet me at my place at four-thirty.</i> She doesn't give the address.<br/>
<br/>
Instead of asking for her address, though, you tell her you got caught at home and won't be able to meet with her. She texts back a frowny face, but that's all.<br/>
<br/>
But the question remains after you've put your phone down again: What would it be like to have two sets of memories and personalities inside one head. Wouldn't you get confused and make mistakes? Would you have to concentrate really hard, like when you have to concentrate to remember stuff you've memorized for a test? Would it make you look like a fake if you had to keep concentrating to remember stuff like your new middle name or where you lived or what clothes you liked to wear?<br/>
<br/>
You swallow the lump of grim fear in your throat. One thing is for sure: Before you run away to impersonate someone, you'll need to test one out first, to find out how good of a disguise they are.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't have any finished masks on hand to experiment with. You've only got the one that you made over the weekend, and a second, half-polished one that Gordon had started before he had his accident. Its surface is a swirl of white and blue, like cream half-stirred into blueberry pudding. Since that one is farther along toward being done, that's the one you start working on Monday night after finishing—in a half-assed way—your homework. You get a hand towel from the bathroom, prop yourself up on your bed with your laptop and a movie, and start polishing the mask.<br/>
<br/>
After two hours of work, you think that <i>maybe</i> you've wiped out a whitish streak near the chin of the thing, but you're not certain. So you start a new movie and tackle an untouched spot at the corner of the forehead. You pause after ten minutes to study the results of your labor. It doesn't seem to be paying off. You set your jaw and rub harder. A minute of that doesn't seem to have affected the mask either. With a sigh you settle back try to lose yourself in the movie while working. <br/>
<br/>
Your hand and thumb are aching badly by the time the movie has ended. But you have managed to wear a blue spot in the mask. It's only a little bigger than a quarter, but it is progress.<br/>
<br/>
But your spirits sink when you see just how much work remains to be done.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Wednesday morning, just before class.</i> Caleb leans in next to you at your locker. "I heard Gordon Black had a bathroom conference with you the other day," he says. It says something about how peripheral you and Caleb are to school social life that it has taken that long for gossip about it to filter down to him. "I notice you didn't mention it to me."<br/>
<br/>
"Why should I?" you retort. "It wasn't fun, and you'd just laugh at me."<br/>
<br/>
"No, I wouldn't. I care about you, Will."<br/>
<br/>
You shoot him a narrow glance. His expression is serious, but there's an intensity about the eyes. "What happened between you guys?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing."<br/>
<br/>
Caleb snorts. "Gordon and them don't pay any attention to you. Or me either, thank God." He glances over his shoulder, as though fearful the universe is about to argue with him. "So what was it about?"<br/>
<br/>
"He caught me looking at Chelsea is all." You slam your locker shut.<br/>
<br/>
You turn your back and walk away, but you and Caleb share the same first-period class, so he just follows. He gazes at you with an odd intensity after you're seated in Mr. Walberg's.<br/>
<br/>
You're pretty sure Caleb is the cause of all your troubles with Chelsea, and you bet you know how he started it. Naturally, you resent it. But maybe you should forgive him, and take him into your confidence.</span></div></div>


path: 1131221132
author_id: seuzz
title: Buffed for Success
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Mom! Do we have a car buffer?" you holler as you come in the door from school. From upstairs you think you hear someone faintly calling back. You hurl your book bag onto the sofa and thunder up the staircase. "What did you say?"<br/>
<br/>
"I said," your mother replies as she comes out of the hallway bathroom, "that you can come up here and tell me whatever it is you've got to say." Her mouth is set in a grim line, and she holds the toilet scrubber like she's about to brain you with it.<br/>
<br/>
You grin weakly. "Heh. Yeah. Uh, do we have a car buffer?"<br/>
<br/>
"A what?"<br/>
<br/>
"You know, those things that have, like, a pad on a motor, and you use them to polish cars with?" You gesture a kind of shape in the air with your hands. "A car buffer."<br/>
<br/>
Her eyebrows go up. "What do you want a—?" She sighs. "Look in the garage. I don't know <i>what</i> kind of stuff your dad has."<br/>
<br/>
You run back down the staircase with all the noise of an avalanche, and almost bounce off your brother as he's coming in through the garage. "Watch where the fuck you're going," Robert snarls. So you shove him, and he shoves you back, and you grab him and get him a headlock. "Mom!" he screams.<br/>
<br/>
You release him. "Just go inside already."<br/>
<br/>
"No! What are you doing?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't have to explain anything to you." Then, illogically, you add, "Do you know if we have a car buffer?"<br/>
<br/>
"A what?"<br/>
<br/>
"This kind of a thing," you reply as you pounce on the box your eye has lighted on. It has a picture on it of just what you want, and it contains one, too.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure we got one, dur, if that's what you're looking for," Robert sneers behind your back. You flip him off, then quickly retract your finger when you sense him coming up behind you. "What's it for?"<br/>
<br/>
"You use it to polish cars, <i>dur,</i>" you retort. "That's why they call it a 'car buffer'." Actually, the box calls it a "variable speed polisher," but that's probably because the designers got paid by the word. There are certainly enough cautions printed on the side of the box.<br/>
<br/>
"So you're gonna polish your truck with it?" Robert asks.<br/>
<br/>
"None of your fucking business what I'm gonna polish with it."<br/>
<br/>
"It's your cock, right?" He laughs nastily. "You're gonna polish your cock with it." He just grins when you glare back over your shoulder at him.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll polish <i>your</i> cock with it, if you don't get out of here," you growl. "I'll use a sand blaster on it, if you're not out of here by—"<br/>
<br/>
He just plants his feet and widens his grin. So you lunge at him. "Mom!" he howls.<br/>
<br/>
Well, the long and the short of it is that he winds up perched on the trunk of the family sedan and watches as you squat down with the car buffer and the half-finished mask. "What's that thing?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Art project," you mutter before turning on the buffer. Hopefully it will drown him out.<br/>
<br/>
But he's still there and still itching to bug you when you turn the buffer off to examine the results. "You make that thing?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, a friend made it. I just told him I'd help finish it."<br/>
<br/>
"How come?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you help <i>your</i> friends?"<br/>
<br/>
"Is it for Caleb? Are you doing this for him?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's not for Caleb. It's for someone else." The whine of the buffer drowns Robert out again.<br/>
<br/>
"Is it for Keith?" he asks when you pause the buffer again. "It's either Caleb or Keith, 'cos those are the only two friends you got."<br/>
<br/>
You glare up at him. "No, it's not for Keith. And those aren't the only two friends I've got."<br/>
<br/>
"They're the only guys I ever see you with." He grins impudently at you. "Seriously, you—"<br/>
<br/>
You turn the buffer on again. It's working out great. After only a few minutes you've already turned a wide swatch of the forehead from a pasty white to a glowing blue. Despite Robert and the shit he's flinging, you feel quite cheerful.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You got the idea for using a car buffer on the way home. Just a few blocks from your house you'd passed a guy standing out in his driveway and using one of these things to polish his sports car. Your first reaction was jealousy about not having a sports car of your own. Then you thought: <i>If you can use a buffer on a car, why can't you use it on a mask?</i> Hence, the excitement with which you ran into the house.<br/>
<br/>
Robert watches you work for a few more minutes, but when it's apparent that you're not going to take another break anytime soon, he wanders back inside. Without him to distract you, you buckle down harder to work. Twenty-five minutes later you shut off the buffer to admire the results.<br/>
<br/>
The mask is now a burnished blue all over, inside and out. It catches the sunlight from all angles, and you get a touch of dizziness when, for just a moment, it suddenly seems as though the mask is reflecting the sky. Briefly, you have the impression that you're about to pitch forward into the mask, and through it, and fall into a bottomless blue pit ...<br/>
<br/>
You rub your eyes and scramble to your feet, and throw the mask into the cab of your truck before someone can up out or up behind you and see what you've been working on. You put the car buffer away and go inside and up to your room<br/>
<br/>
"I gotta go meet someone," you tell your mom as you pass the kitchen with your book bag over your shoulder. It contains the grimoire and a few more things you need to finish up the mask.<br/>
<br/>
"Robert says you're working on an art project with someone."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, helping them out, yeah." You make a mental note to kick Robert's ass.<br/>
<br/>
"Will you be back for dinner?"<br/>
<br/>
"Probably." You just feel the desire to get out of the house, to go off and think some more now that you're at the point of decision. "Uh, yeah, I will," you add when you reflect that, because you're not actually meeting someone, there's no reason for you to miss dinner. "Do I need to pick something up on the way back?"<br/>
<br/>
Your mom shakes her head, and with a shrug you scamper out to your truck. After a moment's thought, you turn the motor over and point the nose toward The Flying Saucer coffee shop.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's late afternoon—nearing on five—when you enter that very bohemian cafe. You peer about furtively, and your shoulders are hunched ... and it's not until you notice the slight ache in your upper back, and straighten up to relieve it, that you realize you've been skulking about like a guilty Igor carrying a stolen brain. You order a plain coffee, and glance into the main dining room.<br/>
<br/>
Good. It appears to be empty. You were rather counting on that, as this is the time of day when the afternoon lurkers should be leaving for dinner and the post-dinner crowd has yet to arrive. You take your mug over to a station to season with sugar and a little cream, then dive into a booth. You unzip your bag and pull out your projects.<br/>
<br/>
There's the grimoire, of course. The new mask. The metal band with the runes that is supposed to copy the mind and memories of the victim. A jar of glue for attaching the metal strip to the mask, a small plastic tub of sealant, and another plastic container with the control goop. <br/>
<br/>
You spread it all out on the table, and wipe your palms on your knees. <i>Some assembly required,</i> you think.<br/>
<br/>
There's only thing you can do, though, before tackling a test subject: glue the metal band into the mask. It's not strictly necessary to do so, not if you read the book right, but it would save a step, for then by putting the mask on someone you would be copying their body and their mind simultaneously.<br/>
<br/>
But who to experiment on?<br/>
<br/>
<i>Caleb.</i> That's the first obvious, and very grim, thought that comes to you. <i>Asshole.</i> He got you into this. You're ninety-nine percent certain of that, and you're ninety percent certain you know how he did it. It was when he got you to put that metal band onto your forehead, so that he could see if it would copy your brain. You're sure he had a mask with him, and he copied your body as well as your mind, and put them together, and then disguised as you he tried to get a copy of Gordon. That's how come people were talking a couple of weeks ago about Gordon grabbing hold of you when he did no such thing, and why Chelsea thought you were the one who knew about the book. Caleb must have whiffed his play, and lost the book and mask to Gordon.<br/>
<br/>
While you're still bitterly nursing this resentment, you hear a slight cough behind you, and look round. You see no one, but you hear another cough. Cautiously, you slide all your things down into your seat, and get up. You see the top of someone's head. They're sitting with their back to you in a booth in the very back.<br/>
<br/>
They're facing the restrooms, so you fake a quick trip to the head, and snatch a good look at them when you come back out. It's a girl you don't recognize, Chinese or something. Her hair is long and black and straight, and her skin is that dark shade that looks like a tan without actually being a tan. She is bent over some school books, but she's tapping at her cell phone.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb would know it was you if you jumped him. So would anyone else from school. You don't know this girl, though, so she doesn't know you. That would make her a good "experimental subject," to find out just as well the masks copy people, and how easy it is to impersonate them.</span></div></div>


path: 11312211322
author_id: seuzz
title: The Girl You Could Be
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>Fuck it.</i> This is too good of an opportunity to pass up. You're alone in the coffee shop with this strange girl, and you'll probably never have as good a chance to catch someone unaware.<br/>
<br/>
You pass her on the way back to your booth, straining to keep your eyes off her, and pick up the completed mask from your table. Then, holding your breath, you creep into the booth behind her. You get up on your knees, and look over the top of her booth onto the crown of her head. After shooting a quick glance behind to confirm the coast is clear, you reach down and press the mask onto her face from behind.<br/>
<br/>
For a moment you feel the hard, cool surface of the mask. Then it vanishes beneath your palm, and you're pressing your fingertips into soft, yielding flesh. <br/>
<br/>
For a moment panic washes over you. What if the girl is still awake? What if she screams? What if she bites your fingers off at the knuckles?<br/>
<br/>
But there's no sound, and her head falls heavily into your hand. You look over the partition. She is starting to slump, and if you let go of her, she'll face-plant hard into the table.<br/>
<br/>
Sweat breaks out all over you. What have you done? How are you going to get out of this? What if someone catches you?<br/>
<br/>
Carefully, stretching your arm as long as it will go so as to keep hold of the girl's face, you slide out of your booth. Your toes slip on the concrete floor, and you let go of the girl in order to catch yourself. At the same time, you lurch forward and shoot out your other hand to catch her head. You bang your ribs against the partition.<br/>
<br/>
But you've still got her, and you're out of the booth, so you're okay. You let her face fall gently onto her books and pull your hand free. Then you sit down next to her, bend down, and peer anxiously into her face.<br/>
<br/>
She's quite beautiful, with the almond eyes and the high cheekbones of an East Asian. Her skin is the color of dark, tarnished bronze, and her long black hair drapes past her elbows. Her eyes are closed, and she is breathing deeply and regularly. Of the mask there is no sign.<br/>
<br/>
Only now does it occur to you that the book said nothing about how long it takes to copy someone. You scramble back to your table, and check the time on your phone. Five-thirty-seven. You'll give the mask three minutes to do its stuff before you panic. You return to the girl's booth with your phone, and hunker over to wait.<br/>
<br/>
You're panicking before two minutes are up, and when "5:40" flashes on your phone you suppress a wave of hysteria. To keep from losing your shit entirely, you gather up your stuff for a quick getaway. At 5:41 you move to a table on the wall across from the unconscious girl's booth so you can watch her from a safe spot.<br/>
<br/>
At 5:43 the barista trudges through the dining room. You lower your head and swallow your heart before it can force its way up your throat. He goes into the bathroom without glancing at either you or the girl.<br/>
<br/>
By 5:46 your fear is starting to give way to a sickly worry. What if you fucked up the mask? What if it has put the girl into a coma or something? Well, there's no way anyone can trace it to you if that's what you've done. Still, you don't like the idea of hurting the girl.<br/>
<br/>
At least, you don't like the idea of <i>pointlessly</i> hurting her.<br/>
<br/>
If you've fucked up, you are <i>not</i> going to repeat the experiment. You'll take the book and the stuff to Chelsea and tell her to burn it, that the magic stuff is just way too dangerous and you need to just stop doing anything and everything with it. Sure, Gordon will be—<br/>
<br/>
A blue glow from the other table catches your eye. You cast an anxious look at the girl. There's something wrong with her face.<br/>
<br/>
Then you realize it's the mask. It's reappeared there, and is wedged between her head and the table.<br/>
<br/>
You grab up your book bag and dash over. Yes, there's the mask. The girl still isn't moving, though.<br/>
<br/>
Gingerly, you push her head up just enough that you can slide the mask out from under her. Her eyes remain fast shut, and she's still breathing. You hold your own breath and you lower her face back to the table.<br/>
<br/>
Then you run like fuck out of the coffee shop.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You text your mom to tell her that you'll be eating with the guy whose art project you're helping out on; a minute later she texts back a curt, <i>Okay,</i> which might mean she's okay with it and might mean she's pissed off but too busy to let you have it between the eyes. You'll worry about that later. You've got a mask to try on.<br/>
<br/>
You're back in the elementary school basement, which is already dim with the evening light. You've cleared out a space beneath a conference table, because you're shy about doing what comes next out in the open, on the million-to-one chance that someone will come in and catch you. You've got your clothes off, and you're crouched over the mask you've just sealed, cupping it in both hands. The name of the girl floats in blue letters over the inside of the mask.<br/>
<br/>
At least, you assume it's her name. It's not in English or even in the Latin alphabet. You vaguely recognize it as Vietnamese or Thai or something like that. You wonder, with a light thrill, if you're about to become bilingual in some exotic tongue.<br/>
<br/>
Your mouth is very dry, and you have a hard time bringing yourself to follow through on your plan. But here it is, now. The experiment you said you had to try.<br/>
<br/>
You're about to use one of these masks to turn yourself into another person.<br/>
<br/>
If you've done the spell right.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God.</i><br/>
<br/>
With a spasm, you shove the mask into your own face before you can change your mind.<br/>
<br/>
It's like being punched in the face with an iron girder.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
From dark, cold depths you rise to breach the surface of consciousness. You gasp, then cry out faintly at the pain in your hand. (You must have flung your arm out in a spasm.) Your breath is coming in fast, short bursts, and your heart is hammering in your chest. Slowly, you try to come to grips with where you are and what has happened.<br/>
<br/>
It's dark and cool, and you're sitting on a cold floor. The thin padding under you—vaguely it occurs to you that it's your t-shirt and jeans—hasn't kept the chill of the floor from invading your body. You put your hands out and touch hard surfaces beside you and above you. What's going on? Are you sitting under a table?<br/>
<br/>
It floods back. Yes, that's exactly where you are. You are crouching under a table in the basement of the old elementary school. You took your clothes off because you didn't know if they would interfere with the spell when you put that girl's mask on. <br/>
<br/>
You stop cold. You did put in it on. And now—<br/>
<br/>
You shriek softly as a thing like a spider runs down your face. You put her hand up and catch it.<br/>
<br/>
It's a lock of hair. A long, coarse lock of hair.<br/>
<br/>
At that moment you realize the experiment must be a success. Your frozen fingers are locked around a strand of Summer Nguyen's hair.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Summer Nguyen.</i> That tells you that the rest of the experiment is a success. You groan, close your eyes, and let your head fall forward. Your hair flops forward with it.<br/>
<br/>
You were in The Flying Saucer coffee shop, doing your math and waiting for Lisa and Mandy to show up, when you heard a noise, and then something cool and dark went over your face. Or, at least, that's the impression you have. The next thing you knew you were waking up here.<br/>
<br/>
Backward reels your mind and memories, to the day just past. The drive out to the coffee shop. Afternoon classes. Lunch in the science lab with Chris. The drive to school, where you met Chris in the parking lot, and took from her the first kiss of the day. The anxieties earlier in the week as the calculus test approached. Talking with Chris and hanging out with Chris and her band mates. Lisa's offhand comments about your relationship with Chris and the hurt they gave you. The time Alyssa took you aside, soon after you started dating Chris, to tell you that you were very lucky but you had be very careful about Chris, because under her surface spikiness was a real spikiness that might hurt you, but that she (Alyssa) would always be there for you if you needed to talk.<br/>
<br/>
The loneliness of the summer vacation, and the excited trepidation you felt when Chris Yves first noticed you, and talked to you, and pulled you close, and with her tongue and mouth showed you that she wanted you to be her friend and companion, and the terrified gladness you felt for days after you indicated that her friendship would make you happy ... the terrified gladness you still feel.<br/>
<br/>
You rub your face with your hands, then drop them with a sniff. Suddenly this body feels very familiar and comfortable. You hadn't even noticed it, being dizzy and preoccupied in the darkness with finding yourself, but now it's a totally expected thing when you reach down to cup and squeeze a pear-like breast in one hand, and to probe the bushy mound with your other. For a moment you squeeze and press them thoughtfully.<br/>
<br/>
Then you clamber out from under the table, to stand in the darkening basement. For a moment you feel dizzy.<br/>
<br/>
Summer Nguyen goes to Eastman High School. You could hide out there as her. Because with her mind you know how to get to her again, and are fully confident of your ability to replace her.</span></div></div>


path: 113122113221
author_id: seuzz
title: And That Girl You Are Now
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The whine of the car buffer drowns out every other sound, so you don't notice your dad until he's touched you on the shoulder. "Jesus!" you shout, and the mask almost leaps from your fingers.<br/>
<br/>
"Watch your language," your dad growls. At least, you assume that's what he said, for you can't hear him over the buffer. But it's a safe bet that's what he said, given the way he's glowering at you. You shut off the buffer and look up at him anxiously.<br/>
<br/>
"How many of those do you have to make?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"How many of—? Oh, these?" You hold up the mask. "Uh, just this one. The last one. I think."<br/>
<br/>
"You think?" His frown deepens. "You know how to use that thing?"<br/>
<br/>
The mask? <i>He's asking if you know how to use the mask?</i> Your heart almost rips itself in half and jumps out through your ears. <br/>
<br/>
But then you realize he's just talking about the buffer. "Uh, I guess so," you stammer. You've got the buffer turned with the pad facing up, like a fuzzy mushroom, with your legs wrapped around the motorized base. You tighten your grip on the mask. "It's not hard to figure out, is it? You just turn it on, and—"<br/>
<br/>
"Let me see that." Your dad puts out his hand, and you reluctantly give him the mask. He scowls at it, and rubs it thoughtfully. Then with a snort he hands it back. "It's an art project, you say?" You nod. "Well, as long as the other guy knows what he's doing. He does, doesn't he?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. He showed me how to do it," you quickly improvise, "and he'd do it himself, but his buffer broke, and I didn't think you wanted me taking ours over to his place, so—"<br/>
<br/>
"Alright. Just checking up." He stares at you. "You surprise me sometimes, Will." With that gnomic comment, he goes back into the house.<br/>
<br/>
You pause in your work to collect your shattered nerves.<br/>
<br/>
It's a little after eight. At the basement, after confirming with your phone-camera that you had Summer Nguyen's face as well as the rest of her parts, you had taken the mask off—a scary bit of work that was, as you tried wrapping your tongue around the magic phrase and your fingers around the edges of your brow before trying to pull the front of your skull out through your face—and put your clothes on. You'd then cleaned up the basement, packed all the supplies into your truck, and taken them home. To your parents you explained that you had one more art project you needed to polish up for that friend, and took the other mask on hand—the one you'd made over the weekend—into the garage. You will need it if you are to replace Summer Nguyen tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
This mask takes longer to finish than the first one, but by nine o'clock you're back in your bedroom. You skip your homework and take out the tools for carving runes onto a metal strip. Once that is done—<br/>
<br/>
And so exacting is the work there that it's nearly two before you've got it finished.<br/>
<br/>
—you fall into bed for a restless, excited sleep. You can't be sure, but you think you dream about breasts. Which you often do. <br/>
<br/>
Only this time they are <i>your</i> breasts that you're fondling.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The next morning you wake to texts from Chelsea. (Just how early does she get up?) <i>Need to meet and talk. 430 my place.</i> Again she fails to give you an address.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Can;t,</i> you text back. <i>Dad has job for me ritgh fter school. Tomorrow ok?</i> By then you'll be away. <br/>
<br/>
She doesn't reply until the start of first period. <i>Why dirt still in ur truck thot u were goin to do stuff w it.<br/>
<br/>
I am. Using little bit at a time. Experiment.</i> That at least shuts her down for the rest of the day.<br/>
<br/>
Still, it makes you more than commonly anxious about getting through the day and getting away. Caleb seems to have noticed, and he watches you darkly both during the classes you share and during lunch. "You got ants in your pants or something?" he finally asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Got a project I'm working on."<br/>
<br/>
His eyes narrow. "Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
You're about to give him the "dad's got a job for me" excuse, like you gave Chelsea, then remember that he's working at Salopek now and knows your dad. "Yeah, a girl." You flash a nervous grin.<br/>
<br/>
"What girl?" His tone is hard and disbelieving.<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know her. She goes to Eastman. We met yesterday. Made a connection, got to know each other good." Your grin widens.<br/>
<br/>
"Then why does she want anything to do with you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you, man. We're getting into each other." Your lips twitch at the double meaning.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. So you're meeting her today? Where?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you, that's where. I'm not telling you shit so you can push in and spoil it."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm trying to save you from yourself, Will."<br/>
<br/>
"No you're not. But we're getting together again today. That's how come I got ants in my pants."<br/>
<br/>
"Like to see her face when she finds out that's <i>all</i> you've got in your pants, you dickless wonder."<br/>
<br/>
You give him both middle fingers, really hard.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Classes end, and you race out to The Flying Saucer, where Summer should be waiting. You know that she's usually there, even though you don't have her memories outside her mask, because you made a special note of it. That's the main reason you decided to make her your alias. It will be easy—barring really bad luck—to make the switch.<br/>
<br/>
You beat her to the coffee shop, so it worries you when she's not there, but she comes in a few minutes later and takes that same booth. Nothing on her face suggests she remembers yesterday and what happened.<br/>
<br/>
What's about to happen again.<br/>
<br/>
You move over to the booth behind her and take out the mask. Quickly you turn around in the booth, reach over, and put the mask to her face. You feel it vanish into her.<br/>
<br/>
But this time, to your astonishment, she doesn't faint.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, she grabs your hands and pulls. You grunt and gasp as she wheels around.<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes are very wide, and so are yours, probably. She's turned pale under her dark skin, and you feel your own cheeks drain. For a moment neither of you say anything.<br/>
<br/>
Then her lips part. "What are you doing?" she asks in a horrified gasp.<br/>
<br/>
It's a terrible moment, and you would bolt from the shop if she didn't have a tight hold of you. So, stupidly, you blurt out the obvious: "Let go of me!"<br/>
<br/>
And she does. Her face shows astonishment, though not half the astonishment you feel.<br/>
<br/>
Still you stare at each other, breathing hard. "What are you doing?" she asks again, and the fear in her voice is palpable.<br/>
<br/>
But your own fear is draining away. You think you've got it. She surprised you by not fainting. But the rest of it is going just like you'd hoped it would.<br/>
<br/>
"Get your stuff together," you tell her, "and come with me."<br/>
<br/>
To your delight, she complies. The expression on her face suggests she can scarcely believe what she's doing.<br/>
<br/>
But she follows you out to your truck without arguing. "Get in," you tell her as you go around to the driver's side.<br/>
<br/>
"Where are we going?" she asks in a voice faint with terror. She looks like she's about to start crying.<br/>
<br/>
"Shh," you say. "Don't say anything. Don't worry. Just breath, and relax."<br/>
<br/>
When you glance over at her again, that's what she's doing. She's even got her eyes closed.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's the stuff you put in the mask you made of her. You used your hair in the sealant, and you put the sealant in her mask; and, as you'd gambled, that put her under your control. She has to do what you say, just as Gordon has to do what Chelsea says. You were expecting her to faint again, like she did yesterday, and to follow you only after she revived. But this way is actually better. You won't lose any time making the switch.<br/>
<br/>
You drive out to the elementary school—the only safe spot you know of—and lead the very meek Summer Nguyen into the basement. Obligingly, she disrobes at your command, and obligingly she lays out on one of the tables. You bend over her, grasp her brow, mutter some arcane words, and pull. The mask comes away. Summer's own face remains behind, of course.<br/>
<br/>
Her eyes are closed, but you don't waste time. You lay another mask over her. Maybe her form wavers, or maybe it's just your imagination. But an instant later she vanishes, to be replaced by a skinny teenage boy with stiff blond hair and whiskers on his chin and cheek. A guy who looks just like you sits up and blinks. "What the—?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
You feel yourself turning green, but you have no time to waste. "Get up and put on my clothes," you tell him as you yank your shirt off. "You know a girl named Summer Nguyen?"<br/>
<br/>
He gapes, and a greenish tinge comes into his cheeks as well. "Who? Oh, you mean that girl at the coffee shop?" He looks around as he takes your shirt. Then he freezes. "Wait. Did I just—? I mean, did we—?"<br/>
<br/>
"We're doing the switch now." You feel slightly ill, and your voice is husky. "You remember anything about her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh ... No."<br/>
<br/>
"Good." Clearly this ... double of yourself ... would argue more, but you don't let him. "I'll text you later from her phone. For right now, get dressed, be normal. Can you do that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know what's normal," he whines. "I mean, suddenly here I am, talking to myself, but—"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up. I have to finish changing and get back to the Flying Saucer before—"<br/>
<br/>
Before Summer's friends show up. Because you are going to be her now.<br/>
<br/>
That's an odd enough thought. But an even odder thought follows it.<br/>
<br/>
<i>If I can be Summer Nguyen, why can't I be her friends, too?</i></span></div></div>


path: 1131221132212
author_id: seuzz
title: The Thought of Others
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><i>If I can be Summer Nguyen, why can't I be her friends, too?</i><br/>
<br/>
Where did <i>that</i> thought come from? What does it even mean? <br/>
<br/>
But you can't bother yourself for now with anything else but completing the swap. You finish pulling off your clothes, then clamber onto the table with Summer's mask.<br/>
<br/>
Still, that weird thought lingers even as you raise the mask over your face and lower it onto yourself again.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Waking up as Summer Nguyen is a little less shocking this second time. It's almost like a homecoming. The memories that you'd forgotten are present like they'd never been gone, and the body is as natural as a soft and comfortable pair of pants and shirt.<br/>
<br/>
You sit up. Hair falls down your back, and a few long tresses fall into your face. You push them back—<br/>
<br/>
—and catch sight of a teenage boy boldly ogling you up and down. Your heart hammers once, twice, three times in your chest. <i>It's that weirdo at the coffee shop, the one who hypnotized you or something!</i><br/>
<br/>
But the panic fades instantly, though it leaves a cold shadow over your heart. You glare at your doppelganger.<br/>
<br/>
Then, with a nasty smile, you tease him. "Hey, don't you remember this?" you ask him as you lightly touch your right nipple. "Touching this? Holding this? Yesterday?"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes bulge, and he swallows. "Er. Yes," he croaks.<br/>
<br/>
He should. Last night, after finally finishing the new mask in the early morning hours, you had set it on your face in order to implant your own body and memories into it, then sealed it. So the person standing in front of you now should be "you" as you were early this morning, with all the memories of what you did yesterday.<br/>
<br/>
Including the memories of wearing this body. It's clear as the erection that's distending the front of his jeans that he's running through them now, while staring at you.<br/>
<br/>
"I have to get dressed now," you tell him as you get to your feet. "Wait for me out in the truck. I'll be there in a minute."<br/>
<br/>
With a lingering look over his shoulder, his shuffles up the stairs and goes out.<br/>
<br/>
You get dressed as quickly as you can. Pink panties, very skimpy, practically a thong. A small bra. Summer is not prodigiously blessed in the bosom, and she's actually quite boyish all over, with slim legs and hips, a straight, flat stomach, and boobs that, though firm, are little too much like bags.<br/>
<br/>
But they're your bags now. You brush a fingertip over one of them, almost as though it were an accidental gesture.<br/>
<br/>
Then into the skinny jeans and the red, short-sleeve blouse, and the sandals. Luckily, Summer's hair—your hair, now—doesn't need a lot of management, being very straight with a lot of natural body, you just have to pull it back over your shoulders. You shake yourself all over, getting the kinks out, then run up the stairs to the door.<br/>
<br/>
You feel very light on your feet.<br/>
<br/>
Your double is sitting behind the wheel of the truck, wearing sunglasses and slapping the steering wheel. He smiles tightly as you get into the truck. "We going back to the coffee shop?" he asks as he starts the truck.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh. I've got friends meeting me there at six."<br/>
<br/>
"So why the rush?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I have to get my homework done." You sigh softly. "We've started to get together to do our homework together, but we never get much of it done becaue—" You shrug.<br/>
<br/>
Because it's Lisa Rickover and Tina Branson and Mandy Simpson. Sometimes more. And those girls, the "Rumorati" as they're called behind their backs, can only work on homework when they're not sharing gossip or checking it out and posting about it on social media.<br/>
<br/>
So Summer has to get her own homework done before she can meet the others to do homework. Silly, isn't it?<br/>
<br/>
And yet, also very, very serious. Summer still isn't used to the idea that she belongs with these girls, and that they've accepted her as part of their group, even though she's been hanging out with them for a couple of weeks now. Just the thought of that pressure to conform makes her tense all over.<br/>
<br/>
And because you're her now, you tense up.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you want me to do about Chelsea?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?" Your doppelganger's question pulls you back into the now. "Oh. Just keep stringing her along. She won't expect results for another week, at least."<br/>
<br/>
"And then?"<br/>
<br/>
"Make up problems. Tell her you're—"<br/>
<br/>
"She's going to figure out I'm stalling. Eventually."<br/>
<br/>
You look over at him. He looks a little pale and sick in the face. And because you're him too, you understand the fear. You're doing this impersonation to get away from Chelsea, but you're leaving someone behind who's going to take the blows that you meant to avoid. What would you do in his situation?<br/>
<br/>
You don't know. That's why you jumped out of his situation.<br/>
<br/>
"You've got a week," you repeat. "I'll think of something by then."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." His tone is disbelieving. "In the meantime, are we gonna get together, me and this girl you're pretending to be now?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll give you a call or text if I want to see you. Now be quiet." You slump in your seat. "You want me to figure out something for you, right?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>If I can be Summer Nguyen, why can't I be her friends, too?</i><br/>
<br/>
That question comes back to you after you've been dropped off at The Flying Saucer, and are back in Summer's—your—regular booth. You have her—your—books spread out and are sitting with her—your—mechanical pencil poised over a notebook, ready to start the math problems that constitute the bulk of her—your—homework. But your brain is employed with equations of a different sort.<br/>
<br/>
<i>I put that stuff inside this mask,</i> you reflect. <i>It has a copy of Summer's body in it, and I put it onto Summer. That made her my slave. Then I put it on myself, so that I could be her.</i><br/>
<br/>
Intermediate conclusion: <i>If I wanted to, I could switch back and forth between being her and being myself. When I'm her, my old self is my slave. When I'm myself, Summer is my slave. I'm like a crab who has two shells he can scuttle between.</i><br/>
<br/>
Extrapolation: <i>If I can have two shells, why can't I have three? Me, Summer, and—</i><br/>
<br/>
You quiver. <i>And who?</i><br/>
<br/>
There are so many possibilities that you can't even name one. <i>Lisa Rickover, who pretends to like Summer but is a passive-aggressive bitch toward her? Alyssa Randal, the head cheerleader at Eastman High, who is the unacknowledged president of the Rumorati club? Chris Yves, who is Summer's girlfriend? Adam Karter, who is Chris's scuzzy boyfriend-wannabe?<br/>
<br/>
Someone back at Westside?<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea, maybe?</i><br/>
<br/>
So many choices. <i>But if two shells, why not three? And if three, why not four? Or five, or six, or seven, eight, nine or ten? Twenty? Two hundred? Two or twenty or two-hundred thousand?</i><br/>
<br/>
You sway a little, feeling dizzy. There must be a catch somewhere. There must be a reason you can't take over the universe with these masks. Someone would have tried it already.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe the magic only works on two masks--the disguise you are wearing, and the disguise of yourself you put on the other person.<br/>
<br/>
But the spell didn't come with that kind of warning. You'd have noticed, wouldn't you?<br/>
<br/>
The rest of the magic supplies are now in Summer's car, but you transferred the grimoire to her already overstuffed book bag, and you heave it out now. Maybe the next spell, which you've not even bothered to glance at, will tell you something. You flip through the grimoire until you hit a page that won't turn. <br/>
<br/>
You run your eye down it. The top of the page, as usual, appears to be taken up with a list of ingredients that will have to be translated. The middle of the page will have a set of instructions and at the bottom will be a sigil ...<br/>
<br/>
You frown. No sigil. Instead, there's a lot of fuzzy writing, as though the ink had run.<br/>
<br/>
No, it's more like an image that has been smudged out.<br/>
<br/>
No, it's—<br/>
<br/>
You gasp and shut your eyes. It was starting to hurt to look at it.<br/>
<br/>
The bottom of the page, when you look again, is a fuzzy mess of writing. It's very odd. It looks like a long, solidly written paragraph. But when you stare at it directly, the letters go out of focus, and seem to dance and blur, like something out of a "magic eye" puzzle. But the letters you see out of the corner of your eye look solid and unwavering.<br/>
<br/>
Until you look at them. Then <i>they</i> go out of focus.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't fight it very long. Either the book is messed up, or it is playing some kind of complicated trick on you. And either way, it leaves you stuck where you were before. Even a translation of the one part of the readable spell doesn't help, for as you'd expected, it's only a list of ingredients, and there are no instructions on how to put them together.<br/>
<br/>
But even after putting the grimoire away, you're unable to study. You keep going back to that earlier question: Can you make yourself more than one "shell" to hide under and control?<br/>
<br/>
There seems to be only one way to find out—by chancing the experiment. But who to try it out on?<br/>
<br/>
It's too dangerous to try it on Chelsea, in case it doesn't work. But what about Gordon? There's already a mask there for you to experiment with. But the golem-Gordon would be a complication.<br/>
<br/>
It would be easy to get to Chris Yves, since she and Summer spend quality time alone in each other's company.<br/>
<br/>
But Summer's resentments keep pulling you to a third possibility. Summer tries to suppress the gall she feels when Lisa Rickover is around. And it's Summer's gall, not yours.<br/>
<br/>
But you're Summer Nguyen now, so you feel her sour pleasure at the thought of doing something to Lisa.</span></div></div>


