# chapters

path: 113311211121112211111211112221122112211111211211122122212221
author_id: seuzz
title: Fight and Flight
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You lean in toward Chris. "Get out to Blackwell's as fast as you can. We'll be meeting there. You need to catch up on things."<br/>
<br/>
"And I need to--" he says, but you've scampered back over to Laurent. You do glance back at Chris, and warily take in his worried expression. You jerk your chin at him to join you, but after a moment's hesitation he shakes his head and withdraws. Hopefully he's heading straight over to the magician's, if what he has to say isn't so important that he has to tell you now.<br/>
<br/>
So you turn to Andrea. "Yeah?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"You left a mess back at the pool," she says in that quiet voice that tells you she's really pissed off.<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't leave anything!" you protest. "I went off campus at lunch!" You put an arm around Laurent.<br/>
<br/>
She glances between you and him. "Well, whatever," she shrugs. "It's a mess. Come help me clean it up."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm waiting for someone," you weakly protest. It takes all your willpower to resist her, and you clutch more tightly at Laurent. You look up at him.<br/>
<br/>
He swallows. "Nah, I'll help you take care of it," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"But--!" Laurent gives you a look, and you relent.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea precedes you down the hall, not looking back, and you take a ragged breath as you watch her undulating ass. She is so slim, but so well-proportioned, and so perfect. You'd love to be her.<br/>
<br/>
Whoa, where did <i>that</i> thought come from? It's impossible to tell. You yourself would love to wrap her skin around yours, and hug it tightly to yourself; and Rachel would love to have her ease and confidence and command. So maybe it came from both directions.<br/>
<br/>
You pass through an outer door and cross toward the natatorium, which is attached to the gym. Laurent pauses at the door, and you feel a tremble pass through him. But then he leads you in.<br/>
<br/>
The water in the great pool laps softly, and the poolside is spotless; it isn't even wet. "So where's the mess, Andrea?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
"Over here," she says, and leads you along one edge toward the opposite side. But it's spotless there, too.<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on?" you ask, and your voice begins to shake.<br/>
<br/>
"I need to talk to you guys," she says quietly. "Hang on."<br/>
<br/>
"We got places to be, Andrea," Laurent says gruffly. "Spit--"<br/>
<br/>
You and he turn at the sound of the doors opening again. Indistinct figures push in on the other side of the pool, backlit by the bright sun and muffled by the darkness within the natatorium. But it's a crowd, you can tell. Only when the doors close can you make them out.<br/>
<br/>
It's the wrestling team. Most of them, anyway. Ethan Nieves, Derek Balaban, Devin Haney, Eli Anders: they are in front, but there's a half-dozen more behind. Two figures step out, and you choke. One is Chris Ratliff, staring at you with the same stony expression worn by the others. The other is Charles Hartlein. "Brought the cavalry, Drea, in case you need it," he chortles.<br/>
<br/>
A gauzy haze briefly curtains your vision, and you lurch on your feet. They must have gotten Gordon somehow, and after converting him he told them all about your company and where you were hidden. You feel sick down to your very bones.<br/>
<br/>
"Make it easy for yourselves, guys," Andrea says. "We're in our element. You're not."<br/>
<br/>
Laurent just snorts and pushes her into the pool. Her arms wave comically as she topples in. You're simultaneously revolted and amused at Rick's insolent act.<br/>
<br/>
The wrestlers don't move, except for Eli and Devin exchanging a quiet snicker. Andrea swims to the top and clutches the side of the pool. She raises herself up.<br/>
<br/>
And to your alarm she just keeps rising. Four, five, seven, ten feet into the air she goes, and the water swirls about her. For ten full seconds you watch in paralyzed horror as, like a mermaid or a kraken, she wraps the water about her waist and frowns down with a terrible expression at you and Laurent. <i>I always knew she was a water witch,</i> a little voice in your head squeaks.<br/>
<br/>
Then you catch her real expression. She is as puzzled and alarmed as you.<br/>
<br/>
And it's not a column of water supporting her. The whole contents of the pool have levitated into the air, and are hanging there as though held by an invisible container: a greyish-blue mass that hides the other side of the building. Andrea parts the water with her arms and hangs half out of the edge, and then falls, tumbling fast into the empty pool below. There's a hard crunch. She was in the deep end, and with a fall of twenty-five feet onto concrete, something will have been broken.<br/>
<br/>
You stare, agog at the water, still hanging in mid-air. And then it shoots forward. The entire mass, as though shot from a cannon, slams through the air against the far wall with a deafening boom and crash and roar. Light pours through the broken doors. Broken? They're gone, ripped from their hinges.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on," Laurent says sharply, and seizes your hand. He pulls you around the empty pool at a sprint, and out the doors. The ground is slick, but there's no sign of the wrestling team--unless that's them scattered across the football practice field almost fifty yards away. "Get on the blower," Laurent barks. "Call Frank and your other friend, tell 'em to get over to that warlock's!"<br/>
<br/>
You scramble for your phone, and in a daze try to recall who you need to dial. <i>Ah, Geoff should be it.</i> The screen is a blur, but you recognize the avatar that goes with his number: a photo he'd given Rachel, to her secret disgust.<br/>
<br/>
"Geoff!" you yell, praying that the others have not been captured like Gordon. "James, Frank, whoever! Where are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Somewhere out on Farm Road. We're going to meet Carson," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Who's 'we'? Never mind, just get Carson and get somewhere safe! To Blackwell's, Rick says! The golems got Gordon! Laurent-- Rick and me-- We just dodged a trap!"<br/>
<br/>
"What? Fuck! Hang on." There's some garbled noise, and another voice comes on. It takes you a moment to recognize it as Mr. Hagerman's. "Prescott," he says. "This is Frank. What's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"Where are they?" Laurent demands. You slam into his car, rip open the door, and leap in. "Just give it here." He grabs the phone from you and starts the car in one motion. With a roar he peels out. Students leap away as he races for the street, overleaping the sidewalk and cutting off traffic. You grab onto the hand rest and clench your eyes shut.<br/>
<br/>
Over the shriek of horns and the hammering in your ears you can't make out Laurent's words, and keep your eyes closed until he jogs you in the arm and thrusts the phone back at you. "That fucking twerp," he growls. "He never showed up at the place, and called ten minutes ago saying he had a flat and could they come get him."<br/>
<br/>
"Is he going to be okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Question is whether he was okay when he called, isn't it? Hang on." He jerks the wheel to the side. You look over your shoulder, and see the flashing lights of a police cruiser swing in behind you. "Where are we going?" You give him Blackwell's address, as best you can remember. "We'll take the scenic route." His smile is grim.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You doubt you'll ever forget the next half hour. Laurent leads the cops on a hard chase all over Saratoga Falls, and even out on the highway for fifteen harrowing minutes. The coupe is like a Mustang under his tight control, and he expertly upshifts and downshifts through tight turns and corners. You've no idea how he does it, but he always stays ahead of the police--whose pursuing numbers soon top half a dozen--and never hits any kind of block at any kind of intersection. He seems to know the town expertly, dodging all the bad lights by taking side streets, and more than once you catch him darting down such a detour even before a looming light has changed. You don't want to distract him, but finally you have to ask: "Does Laurent do this kind of thing all the time?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, and neither do I. But it's just arterial flow, kid. Liquid droplets in another form." You don't ask him to clarify.<br/>
<br/>
The chase climaxes on Farm Road, with Rick screaming down it at over a hundred. A cruiser flashes past him on the left, cutting him off, but he taps the brakes, and it overshoots; he ducks behind and around it as it tries swerving and braking, and hurtles past. "Is that the place?" he asks as the wall around Blackwell's villa looms on the left. "Eh, not enough clearance to get over. We'll have to run." He jams on the floor brakes and pulls on the hand brake; the car spins and roars and stops hard. "Out the door, girlie," he shouts.<br/>
<br/>
Though you're dazed, you dash from the car and get through the gate before the first cop car can roar up. Halfway up the walk Laurent catches your waist in a strong grip, lifts you, and carries you up the steps. The door opens; and he pulls you through; and then you're panting in Blackwell's foyer.<br/>
<br/>
But you're not alone. There's a figure on the floor. You frown at the clothes, and twist your head so you can see the face.<br/>
<br/>
It's Carson. And he's as white and motionless as marble.</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111211122111112111122211221122111112112111221222122211
author_id: seuzz
title: Blackwells, Besieged
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Aubrey Blackwell is standing only a few feet away, with a pinched look on his face. His eyes shift between you and Laurent. "You must be Mr. Bredon," he says, ambiguously.<br/>
<br/>
"Rick," Laurent snaps. "My father was 'Mr. Bredon.' You the warlock?"<br/>
<br/>
Blackwell nods. "The others are in my library," he says. "If you will come this way. It's probably not safe to stand in front of that door, considering whom you have brought with you."<br/>
<br/>
"Hang on, Merlin," Laurent says. "How do we know it's safe to go with you?"<br/>
<br/>
"For the same reason I know it's safe to let you come in," he retorts. He nods at Carson. "Your colleague, Mr. Carnes, has placed a device over my doorjamb that rips the masks off revenants. Tidier than <i>my</i> methods," he says, and shoots you a glance. You think you see jealousy in his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
Laurent chucks you in the arm. "Come on, then."<br/>
<br/>
The others--Frank, Joe, Nash, and James--are in the library, looking pale. But Laurent stops cold in the doorway, and his eyes travel all about the room, ceiling to floor. "Well, ain't this cozy," he mutters. "How much of this do you <i>see,</i> kid?" he asks Joe.<br/>
<br/>
"Enough, I think," Joe replies guardedly. "Are you coming in, Rick?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. We're okay. But you underestimated Uncle Arthur over there." He strides into the middle of the room and squats, peering at the floor. Then, over his shoulder: "How much you pay for this pile?" he demands of Blackwell.<br/>
<br/>
"Several hundred thousand, if it's any of your business," Blackwell says, and a look of loathing crosses his face.<br/>
<br/>
"You were either rooked or you got the bargain of the century. Depends on how much you know about this stuff." Blackwell briefly starts at these words, and looks keenly at Laurent, but the latter just turns to Frank as he rises. "So, they got the twerp, and he tumbled them to the whole thing?"<br/>
<br/>
Frank nods, and lays a mask aside. "There were some kids from Eastman High at the cemetery, picking up dirt. He panicked and ran, they caught him, and held him until they could get the <i>Libra</i> out there to deal with him." He sighs. "And then he gave them our names, our aliases, who we were going to hit." He bites his lip. "Everything Ioeger heard at our place is in their databanks now."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that how they got Gordon," you blurt out. <br/>
<br/>
"Was he--?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think so. He was with the rest of the wrestling team when they tried grabbing us." You look at Laurent. "But Rick threw the swimming pool at them."<br/>
<br/>
Joe bursts out laughing. <br/>
<br/>
"Well, me and James got Hagerman, but got out before they could set a trap for us," Frank says, ignoring his brother. "So they tried using Carson. We picked him up and got him back here. We'd have checked him to be sure, but Nash had already--"<br/>
<br/>
"Just a l'il variation on what the perfesser has with his pet monkey. Speakin' o' which, I can give yeh a leesh f'r 'at ting if yeh wahnt one," he says to Blackwell.<br/>
<br/>
The magician folds his hands. "Very kind of you to offer, I'm sure, Mr. Carnes, but we may wish to leave it unhindered this evening."<br/>
<br/>
"What do we do until then," you ask, nervously glancing at the French doors. "Aren't they going to try busting in here? There's a lot of cops."<br/>
<br/>
"And they'll have a couple of SWAT teams here within the hour, and maybe some troops from that base," Laurent says. "But if they know what the twerp knew, they'll know better than to bust in. Frank, you showed him some of what you can do, right?" Frank nods, and Joe raises his hand too. "Right. And he knew we were doubled on numbers, and if he knew who Dr. Bombay over there is, they'll know enough to not even step through the gate. No," he says grimly. "They're just going to box us in, keep us from going anywhere, until they can in fly a bunker buster and flatten this place from the air."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You glance around only briefly at the sound of the bedroom door opening, and turn back to the window. The sun is below the horizon now, though the western sky is still bright. You wanted to watch it set. You have the dreadful feeling you'll never see it again.<br/>
<br/>
The yard is dark, but the ground beyond the wall blazes with lights from the besiegers and all the other vehicles. A steady hum filters through the window. "You shouldn't watch it, dude," Joe says quietly.<br/>
<br/>
"What difference does it make?" you reply. You're out of Rachel's mask, and are wearing some spare clothes that were up here: Perry's old things, you think.<br/>
<br/>
"It's bad for the spirit. I know it looks dark. And dawn's a long way off." Joe draws up next to you, and you do a little double take at the glow that seems to come off him. The mat of blonde hair glints in the dark; his eyes shine; and even his teeth seem to gleam. He stares out into the gloom, and something like joy seems to dance over his features. "But when it's darkest, that's when you can see the stars." He turns toward you, and you do feel a tiny rush of confidence.<br/>
<br/>
But it's not enough. "Well, I'd rather be up here than down there, listening to them calling us <i>terrorists</i> on TV."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Joe laughs. "Well, we turned it off. It was vicious, and it was getting worse. They're <i>preparing.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"For what?"<br/>
<br/>
"For what Rick said. But so are we, so don't shit yourself. As for what they're up to--" He jerks his chin at the window. "There's a camper out there. You can't see it, it's too far away. We're not certain, but we think they've got the <i>Libra</i> in it. They keep taking people into it. Cops. Agents. Mostly TV personalities and the support personnel, though. The coverage has gotten <i>really</i> nasty in the last hour. Yeah, they're converting everyone who comes on the scene, and they're going to use the media to manufacture an air-tight cover story for when they turn this place into a crater. It'll be <i>our</i> fault, they'll make sure <i>that's</i> the story that gets told."<br/>
<br/>
"If the book's out there, why don't we bust out and grab it?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean 'we', pale face," Joe laughs. "We're not bulletproof, and they got snipers. Actually, though, I have been out," he continues. "The Great and Powerful Oz-- Oh, you should see the colors Rick's got Blackwell turning. Anyway, he has a back door, and I snuck out before they locked us down too tight. Got us one more reinforcement. We'll make it out. Don't worry."<br/>
<br/>
"If you could sneak out," you demand, "how come the rest of us couldn't?"<br/>
<br/>
"'Cos it has to do with me," Joe says. "I can move fast. Fast enough that I got out to a little town on the back of nowhere yesterday afternoon, and got back here the day before yesterday. Slipped back in <i>while</i> I was slipping out."<br/>
<br/>
"What are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just babbling," Joe says. "But I spied out a lot while waiting to get back in." He grins, but his cheeks are tight. "Watched from a distance as a lot of poor assholes got turned into golems. I know where to find a whole lot of them. Oh, and I saw what Rick did to the wrestling team." He laughs.<br/>
<br/>
"Why didn't you--"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up. I shouldn't've even bothered explaining. Suffice it to say I could get reinforcements in here--he's a few miles away--<i>before</i> any of this shit started, but thanks to temporal paradoxes we couldn't actually do anything to stop it. Anyway, come downstairs. We gotta talk."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The others are in the living room: Rick and Frank on the sofa; James perched on its edge; Nash leaning against the TV; and Blackwell pacing nervously. They turn at your entrance. You stop in the doorway, and Joe prods you through. "What did you tell him," Rick asks. Joe just looks at Frank.<br/>
<br/>
"Will," his brother says, leaning forward. "Rick told you about yourself. We should have told you earlier, and we would have told you now if he hadn't. But you remember what he said?"<br/>
<br/>
"That I'm--" you start.<br/>
<br/>
"That you're a kind of magician," he says. "A real one." You notice Blackwell giving you a sidelong look. "You're like the rest of us. In a better world, you'd <i>be</i> one of us, working with us, doing the kinds of things we do. Fighting shit like this." He smiles. "Of course, you are, already. Fighting them. But--"<br/>
<br/>
"Upstairs, you asked me why we didn't go out and grab the book," Joe interrupts. "Would <i>you</i> go out and grab it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," you blurt out. You're not going to let them show you up.<br/>
<br/>
"Even if you knew the chances were against you?"<br/>
<br/>
You do have to pause over that. "Well, how good are the chances?"<br/>
<br/>
"How good do they have to be?" Frank asks. You have no answer. "Because you <i>do</i> have a chance. The rest of us don't."<br/>
<br/>
You blink at him. <br/>
<br/>
"We're each of us unique," Frank says. "And <i>you're</i> unique, in that you have a special connection to the <i>Libra.</i> Joe and Nash--and the professor--figured that out this afternoon, after looking some more at those sigils and at this old thing." From behind he takes out a mask, and even at a distance you can see your name in it. "They studied you through this. You have a connection to the <i>Libra.</i> And though we don't have a number, we know there's a chance that they can't do anything to you if they catch you."<br/>
<br/>
"They can't?" you echo, startled.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure they could," Rick says. "They could turn you into a golem. But maybe not one of theirs."<br/>
<br/>
"It's probably a suicide mission," Frank says. "But there's a chance that if they turned you into a golem, you'd still be yourself. You could operate undercover, so far undercover that they'd <i>never</i> suspect you weren't one of them."</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112111221111121111222112211221111121121112212221222111
author_id: seuzz
title: Two Chances at Escape
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Frank--and then Joe--and then Nash--and even Blackwell--spend almost half an hour explaining it to you. They can't put a number to it, or rank it as a high probability or a vanishingly low one, but there is a chance that you would be immune to the <i>Libra</i> spell that turns people into statues. "Maybe nothing would happen to you," says Frank. "And then you're screwed. Maybe it would do the same thing to you that it does to everyone, and then you're screwed again. But maybe you get turned into a golem, and they put a mask on you, but you're still yourself. You learn everything they learn, and can act just like them, and they can't get inside to see what's inside you. And in that perfect disguise, as one of them, you work against them. You'd track down the <i>Libra,</i> get it, and bring it to us."<br/>
<br/>
"Where would you be?"<br/>
<br/>
"Away. Hiding. Developing alternate plans." Frank's cheek twitches. "Praying that you're still yourself."<br/>
<br/>
"This is a huge thing you're asking," you say, and your gut sinks.<br/>
<br/>
"I know," says Frank. "And there's no pressure. None of us <i>want</i> to leave you behind. Every one of us--" He indicates himself and Joe and Nash and Rick. "We want you with us. We want you to be one of us."<br/>
<br/>
Well, that almost settles you on refusing, for you'd like to be with them. But then you catch the double meaning in that last sentence. You're sure Frank didn't mean it, but "you, one of us," also means acting <i>now</i> as one of them. And if you're sure of anything, it's that any of these four ... magicians, or whatever they are ... would leap onto the book and set themselves aflame, if it stood even the tiniest chance of saving the others.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll do it," you say. And there's no hesitation, no doubt, no regret, no second-guessing in your words.<br/>
<br/>
But Frank glances over at Rick, whose eyes have been fixed on you the whole time. "Good enough for me," he says quietly. "Welcome to the <i>Stellae Errantes,</i> Prescott," he adds.<br/>
<br/>
It's very quiet for a moment. And then Joe claps you on the shoulder, and draws you into a brief, manly hug. When he releases you, Nash marches up and smartly shakes your hand. Rick just nods at you from the sofa. James stares at you, and you see horror and tears in his eyes. But he slides up, and with a hard swallow shakes your hand. <br/>
<br/>
You don't look for more congratulations, but there's a touch at your elbow, and you turn to find Blackwell behind you. "Mr. Prescott," he says quietly, and slides a clammy hand into yours.<br/>
<br/>
And then Frank gestures you to follow him out the doorway. "We're going to leave in a few minutes, the rest of us. You'll have to stay here, and let them take you. Don't be afraid." He puts his hands on your shoulders, and stares deep into your eyes. "Never be afraid."<br/>
<br/>
Something like steel slides up your spine, and your chest and chin rise, and though nothing comes out, your mouth opens in a wordless shout of challenge. Frank smiles.<br/>
<br/>
And then his face freezes. He stares more deeply into your eyes, and gasps. "We will meet again, Will," he murmurs. "I see it. I don't know how, or where, or under what circumstances. But I see it. We <i>will</i> meet again." You feel a tremble run through his hands.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
They make some light preparations, including a furtive phone call, and then gather near the front door. You linger near the library. All of them except James seem to know what to expect; your classmate, like you, can only watch nervously.<br/>
<br/>
Joe turns, and gives you a thumbs up.<br/>
<br/>
And then the spirit settles about the house.<br/>
<br/>
You assume it's a spirit, though you've never felt one and have no idea what a spirit feels like. But surely <i>this</i> is what one feels like.<br/>
<br/>
It's like an immense weight, and like an immense lightness, all at once. The air and light, without changing, seem to become very bright. The walls and ceiling remain close, but they seem to drop away. You raise your head and stare straight up, mouth open. You expect to see castles and battlements and pennants and trumpets; pillars and shining windows and polished porticoes. Higher and higher the thing--whatever the unseen vision is of--seems to soar.<br/>
<br/>
Then you see it for what it is.<br/>
<br/>
It's a vast throne.<br/>
<br/>
"Good-bye Will," a voice says. "And Godspeed." You drop your eyes. The front door is open, and the others are gone. But Frank remains. For the briefest moment he seems clad in shining mail. The impression fades as he turns, leaving him in a jersey and blue jeans, and he walks out the door, and closes it behind him.<br/>
<br/>
There is no noise, unless the ringing in your ears is a great fanfare, and the moment hangs timelessly for what might be an eternity before it fades, leaving the dingy and dirty abode of Aubrey Blackwell behind. The loss is crushing, and your legs wobble as you totter back into the living room, to collapse upon the sofa. You wonder vaguely what all that was, and how it could have helped the others escape. But you're all too soon distracted by the sound of shouts and running feet, and the crash of boots through a doorway. You look up as men in armor swoop through the door. You sit, unresisting, as one of them grabs you and slams something heavy against your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't know how long you'd been out, but you'd woken in a gently rocking van. There were some big men with you, still in armor and masks, but they'd said nothing and you'd said nothing to them. You'd just laid back and waited. Maybe it was still that surge of strength you'd felt from Frank, or maybe it was your own sense of resignation, but you'd felt very calm, and your heart beat quite slowly and regularly.<br/>
<br/>
When the van had finally stopped, you'd been bundled through the darkness into a nondescript building and hustled roughly--despite your lack of resistance--along a white hallway and thrust into a kind of waiting room with a table and a chair and a mirror. That's where you are now, and have been for-- Well, there's no clock on the wall, but it feels closer to an hour than to thirty minutes. You've been pacing and sitting in the chair; the fretfulness you feel has less to do with worry than with boredom. But now--<br/>
<br/>
The door opens, and a man in a uniform comes in. He looks middle-aged (around fifty), and his brown moustache is flecked with white. His hair is thin, but he's still got quite a bit of it covering his scalp. He is trim and holds himself erect. His eyes are grave, but there's a gentle note in them. "Hello, Will," he says. "I'm Colonel Lord."<br/>
<br/>
You stare back at him. "Really?" Your tone is challenging, but not belligerent.<br/>
<br/>
He holds your eye for a moment, and a small smile--equally mixing amusement and sadness--appears on his lips. "No, not really. But close enough." <br/>
<br/>
He closes the door and indicates that you can sit, but you lean against the table, gripping it as you stretch your legs out. "I'm glad we finally have you here, Will," he says. "I've been worried. I watched that high-speed chase on the TV, and I don't mind telling you I was very frightened for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh."<br/>
<br/>
He doesn't react to your skepticism. He just holds your eye, patiently and kindly. "Yes," he says. Then he steps to one side. "Would you like to go home now?" He indicates the door.<br/>
<br/>
Well, that does cause you to blink. "What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"I mean just that. You can go home now, if you like. Your family is waiting for you. Your father and mother, your brother. Caleb and Keith. All your other friends. Life goes on. So does yours. Or it can. You only have to choose it."<br/>
<br/>
Now you do fold your arms, and glance between him and the door. "It's not real," you say. "They're not real."<br/>
<br/>
"They're as real as you want them to be, Will. Treat them as real, and they are real."<br/>
<br/>
"They're just masks, riding around on dead things."<br/>
<br/>
"And what are <i>you,</i> Will, except a mask of flesh riding around on a skull?" There's nothing hateful in his tone; in fact, he sounds slightly regretful.<br/>
<br/>
"That's different," you sputter.<br/>
<br/>
"Is it? It's all in the way you treat people. And old habits are hard to break. It will be rather strange at first, I'm sure, but within a few days it will all seem quite normal. Within a few weeks you'll have mostly forgotten that anything has changed."<br/>
<br/>
<i>That's a crock,</i> you think. "What's the catch?"<br/>
<br/>
"No catch. You can walk out now. Your dad's already here to pick you up."<br/>
<br/>
"You sent SWAT teams after me, and now you're just going to let me go?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, there is one complication."<br/>
<br/>
"A ha!"<br/>
<br/>
He actually laughs at your skeptical expostulation. "Your family will be moving. You stand a high risk of being kidnapped by those people you were running around with yesterday and today. We're going to put you in a kind of witness protection program. You'll have to move to a new city, but we can arrange for all your friends to go with you."<br/>
<br/>
Your head spins a little in confusion. "Witness protection? You'd give us, like, new identities?" That will lead to the next thought. "Would you give me a new identity? New face and all that? A mask for me?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's not necessary," the colonel says. "You've a nice enough face, and you can keep it. Just take the new life."</span></div></div>


path: 113311211121112211111211112221122112211111211211122122212221112
author_id: seuzz
title: To Serve and Protect
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Even on its own, this would be the strangest offer you've ever received. That the offer is coming from the golems--who have been chasing you and trying to turn you and your friends into the kind of thing they are--only makes it all the more jaw-dropping.<br/>
<br/>
But though you continue to badger Colonel Lord--his golem, actually--for the "small print" on the offer, he continues to insist that there is none. "I don't understand why don't just accept this offer, Will," he says. "There's the door. No one is stopping you."<br/>
<br/>
What's stopping you, you realize, is your mission. Frank and his colleagues had warned you that there was only a chance of success, but you're still determined to see it through. You want the colonel to try turning you into a golem--into one of them--so that you can infiltrate their ranks and battle them from within. Of course you don't say that to the colonel, which leaves you unable to explain why you won't accept his offer.<br/>
<br/>
You can only fold you arms. "I don't know what game you're playing," you say. You jerk your chin at the door. "But I really don't want to leave this place and find out afterwards."<br/>
<br/>
He frowns, more in puzzlement than anger, it seems. "You really don't want to leave?" He cocks his head and regards you steadily. "Well, there's <i>another</i> offer I could make you. You could work with us."<br/>
<br/>
Your stomach flips. <i>Here it comes, the threat to turn me into a golem.</i> "How?"<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you keenly. "Is that what this is about, Will?" he asks softly. "You stayed while the others ran. Maybe you changed your mind about working with them? You've seen that all the changes going on are really not that important. They're hardly noticeable, in fact."<br/>
<br/>
Your chest tightens a little in horror. <i>Does he actually think you might be looking to switch sides?</i><br/>
<br/>
"Let me show you how you could help us, Will." From a pocket inside his jacket he takes a folded piece of paper. Once he's got it opened up, you recognize it. It's one of the sigils that you'd copied from the book.<br/>
<br/>
"We searched the house where your conspiracy had been meeting--the one by campus, I mean--and we recovered these. You copied them out of the book, you know, and used them. The copies we make, they don't work. We can't find anyone who can make them work. We've even--" His voice tightens a little at the words. "We've even had real people copy them, and the copies they made don't work. But the copies you make do.<br/>
<br/>
"This one is particularly useful," he continues. "It slows us down, a lot, having to use that book each time we bring someone back from the grave. If we had lots of copies, though-- If you supplied us with lots of copies of this spell and a few of the others, it would help us tremendously."<br/>
<br/>
<i>So here it is. A threat to do something to you if you don't slave away for them making sigils.</i> Although, you have to reflect if you're being honest, you've not heard the "threat" part yet.<br/>
<br/>
"Why would I do that?" you demand. "Make it easier for you to kill people, kill all the people in the world? And when I'm done you'll just kill me."<br/>
<br/>
"We're not killing all the people in the world, Will--"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, turning them all into golems."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, we're doing that, but not to <i>all</i> the people. That would be foolish."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're only doing it to people in Saratoga Falls?" you ask suspiciously.<br/>
<br/>
"No, Will," he sighs. "We're going worldwide. But it would be stupid of us to get rid of everybody.<br/>
<br/>
"Will," he says when you wrinkle your brow at him, and his throat constricts over some very hard emotion or other. "The fact is that we can't <i>make</i> anything. Oh, we can make machinery and build buildings and write software and books and music and poetry. But we can't make <i>people.</i>" With sudden force, he rips a bit of hair from his head and throws it onto the table. "It's not only our hair that disappears. It's also blood and semen. Anything that comes off these bodies. We are <i>sterile,</i> Will. If we replaced everyone in the world, that would be the end of the human race. Not just of each individual, but of the entire species. No more reproduction, so no more babies and no more children.<br/>
<br/>
"And we think these bodies continue to age. So what would happen in fifty, seventy years after we had replaced everyone? We would all die again." His voice drops to a whisper. "Which <i>none</i> of us wants to happen. Not again."<br/>
<br/>
He holds your eye for a long time, as though challenging you to question him. You think you get the gist of what he's saying, though, and keep quiet.<br/>
<br/>
"So you see, we wouldn't replace everyone. Not even a majority, not even close to a majority. The vast number of people would go on with their lives, entirely unaware of our presence. We will occupy key positions, of course, so as to maintain control. But the others will live and procreate and raise children. As our bodies age, we will switch into new ones, just by switching masks."<br/>
<br/>
"So you're just parasites," you snort.<br/>
<br/>
"I suppose," he says, and briefly there is a low growl in his voice. "But parasites serve their purpose. So could we. With us secretly running things, and with us <i>needing</i> the human race to continue, life would be <i>much</i> safer for all the rest. There would <i>not</i> be any world-ending wars, and no incidents to precipitate them."<br/>
<br/>
"You're still killing people," you insist.<br/>
<br/>
"Some must die so that others can live. It's always been that way. This is just a different way. We do not want to replace those whose fertility guarantees the survival of--" He sighs, and shrugs. "The survival of our hosts. Yes, we are parasites. But no one values the life of its host more than a parasite does. And we've been dead. We value the living more than the living value themselves."<br/>
<br/>
He falls silent for a moment before continuing with what sounds like a new thought. "And mostly we'd be replacing the parasites that are already out there."<br/>
<br/>
"What parasites?"<br/>
<br/>
"Those who take and take and take, and give nothing back. Do you <i>know</i> what the population replacement rate is in advanced countries?" Irritation, even anger comes into his voice. "They're dying, Will, the Russians and the Japanese and the Italians and all the others. If present trends continue, in a century the German language will be spoken only in Hell. It is because they do not reproduce. Too many move to the city, and they go to parties and they invest in vacation homes and expensive co-ops and save against the day that they can retire at fifty and dribble away the rest of their days on a beach somewhere. But they do not reproduce. They take what the species has given them and selfishly spend it on themselves, and they plan to continue taking it in their old age, from the children that others have borne and raised. But they <i>will not have children,</i> and so they <i>give nothing back!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
He masters himself. "Those are the ones we would be taking, and even now have started to take. We have a solid foothold now, and can afford to start being choosy. It is the parasite class we have targeted, mostly. Look at the childless hedonists you see on TV, and ask yourself how they are any different from what we would be in their place. Ask what they give that we couldn't. They are already like us. Practically dead, for they do not make life."<br/>
<br/>
<i>They would be real, and a golem wouldn't be,</i> you find yourself thinking. But it's a bit of a struggle. You are staggered by these surprising arguments.<br/>
<br/>
The colonel continues. "You could help us, Will. It will happen anyway, but you could speed it. And you seem to have some ability, some mastery over that book. So you see, the last thing we want to do is harm you. We want to keep you very safe, in fact. And if you understand what we're doing, and why it doesn't do any real harm, and why it does a lot of good, maybe you will help us."<br/>
<br/>
Maybe the way your face is twisting up expresses skepticism, for the colonel gestures you over to the mirror. "You asked earlier if you could have a new face and life. Would you like that? Work with us, and for us, and you can have one. You can have several, if you like, just as we can." He flicks a switch. The lights in the room go off, and the lights in a room on the other side of the glass go on. It is filled with a dozen people, standing in a line, facing you. They are all poised and confident.<br/>
<br/>
Many of them you know: Seth Javits, Cindy Vredenburg, Cameron Huber, Anita Nuevo, David Kirkham, Faith Becker. Those that you don't know are cut from the same cloth, though older. Three men in their twenties or early thirties, broad of chest with handsome faces, two with a military bearing. Three beautiful women with strong breasts and hips and curves.<br/>
<br/>
They all stare back, if not at you then at the mirror. "You can have any of them, Will," the colonel whispers in your ear. "Dozens of them. Any that we take. Movie stars. Pop stars. Celebrities. You could switch faces as you please, as you grow bored.<br/>
<br/>
"If you help us, we will share everything we have with you. And it will be for the sake of humanity itself. We would be its protectors."</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111211122111112111122211221122111112112111221222122211121
author_id: seuzz
title: The Golems' New Master
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Intellectually, everything the colonel says make sense, and though it sounds very screwy, it's screwy in a way that also seems weirdly plausible.<br/>
<br/>
You also understand the appeal of his offer. What were you doing with Justin and Perry and Maize and Gordon, if it wasn't borrowing more advantageous lives for a spell? If you accepted the colonel's offer, you could have all that, easily, with them arranging it for you. You wouldn't even have to do any work.<br/>
<br/>
Except make copies of those sigils, and that hardly qualifies as work.<br/>
<br/>
But all this appeal is in your head only. Your heart remains stonily true to your friends. You just shake your head.<br/>
<br/>
The colonel regards you for a minute, then shuts off the light in the other room and stabs a button in the wall. "Are you letting me go home now," you ask with slight satire.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm afraid it's too late for that, Will," he says. "Unless--"<br/>
<br/>
The door opens and a figure steps through. He's tall and gangly, with a shock of ill-kempt, straw-colored hair and thin arms. He closes the door and shoves his hands into his back pockets and balances on the edges of his feet, and fidgets. He's wearing jeans and sneakers and a dark t-shirt emblazoned with the name of your favorite band. In fact, it's one of your shirts.<br/>
<br/>
Because, in fact, it <i>is</i> you.<br/>
<br/>
"Is there any point in talking further with him," the colonel asks your double.<br/>
<br/>
"Nah," the other Will Prescott shrugs. "I almost busted in here ten minutes ago to tell you to save your breath. He's totally queer for those other guys." His voice is insolent, whiny, abrasive.<br/>
<br/>
"Then I'm sorry, Will," the colonel says, and he sounds genuinely regretful. "I would much rather it not come to this point." He turns to your duplicate. "Have you logged in?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Already changed the password."<br/>
<br/>
"Best of luck to you, then." The colonel opens the door. To an unseen person in the hall he speaks. "Will Prescott--the one you just let in--is free to go when he wishes. His father is waiting for him in the VIP room."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes sir," a crisp voice answers. The colonel gives you one last grave look, and shuts the door, leaving you alone with your replacement.<br/>
<br/>
"You're such a fuck up, man," the other Will Prescott snorts. "Have you <i>ever</i> made the right choice in your life?"<br/>
<br/>
"It'll never work," you retort.<br/>
<br/>
"What?" His grin is nasty.<br/>
<br/>
"What you're planning. You going out there so Frank and his brother and the others will think you're me. They've got a way of spotting golems."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, that wasn't the plan, smart guy, though I'd like to see them try. The fact is, I'm actually in charge of things now."<br/>
<br/>
"What?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's right. The colonel was in charge, but now he's given me the keys. They're going to take his mask off and run it over with a tank. The golem underneath will get a new mask. Doesn't matter of who, of course. It might even be Robert. But, anyway, the upshot is that now <i>I'm</i> in charge of things. Got the top email account, the one that can order everyone else around."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it's a security thing," he shrugs. "I mean, it's always the last guy you'd expect, right? Well, it's actually Kim Walsh running the newgordon account at Westside, which you'd kind of expect. But now I can boss her around, and through her boss everyone else there around. Boss all the kids at Eastman around, and at the college, and here on the base. In all the other places, too. I'm, like, president of the United States of Golemania!"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Some kind of mania,</i> you'd agree.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, so, I'll be going back to school, be a dork--pfft--but be the secret puppet master no one suspects. I even get to order that book around. Frank and those guys will never find it, it's not even in town any more. And I'm the only guy in Saratoga Falls that knows where it is, or can get it back."<br/>
<br/>
You stare at him, a wild hope beating in your chest. If Frank and them <i>would</i> try getting in touch with this thing--which they almost certainly would, just so they could figure out what had happened to you--then they can get that information out of the mask. You try to keep your face from betraying any hope.<br/>
<br/>
But maybe it slips through anyway, for the smirk returns to the face of the other. "And don't think your friends can get it out of me either. Nash was right, you need to dump a couple of hundred pounds of dirt into a mask if you're going to put a shell thing <i>inside</i> it, but that's what we did to this one. Too hard to do on any of the others, but that's more security for me." He points to his face. "It's totally sealed up in here. They can't get in. In fact, if one of them tries putting it on, I just come back." <br/>
<br/>
Your heart sinks again. And then you realize-- "Wait, how did you know about what Nash said?"<br/>
<br/>
"Dude, it was all in your head," he snorts, and then blinks. "Oh, wait, you thought I was that really old mask you guys made? Fuck no, I'm fresh. They made me by slamming a mask onto you when they busted into Blackwell's. So yeah, I know everything Nash and Rick and Frank and Joe said. I know all about what you guys are trying to do." He shakes his head. "I'd say I'm impressed, but that'd be like bragging. I actually volunteered for a suicide mission! Go, me!" He laughs, then sighs. "So, that's not going to work for you either." He grimaces, with something that almost looks like sympathy.<br/>
<br/>
"So what are you going to do with me?" The thought that you won't even have a chance at trying Frank's plan fills you with horror and despair.<br/>
<br/>
"That depends. The whole reason I'm telling you all this, why I'm being all Dr. Evil instead of capping you in the head, is because-- Well, fuck it, man, I told you <i>I</i> was running things, but it coulda been <i>us!</i> Us, dude! Not me or you and Gordon, or Justin and Perry, or even Caleb and Keith. Just you and me. The same guy, just in two different bodies!" He grasps your shirt. "Fuck us, Will. I'd be running the golem side, the whole goddamn conspiracy, and you could be making those spell copies and living it up as a rock star. We'd be total kings of the world!<br/>
<br/>
"And we could still do that, couldn't we?" He tightens his hold on your shirt, and a pleading expression comes into his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
But it doesn't remain long. You'd made your decision, and he sees it in your eyes. "Goddamn it, you are such a fuck up," he mutters. "Doesn't bode well for me and my decisions, does it?" he adds glumly.<br/>
<br/>
"So what are you going to do with me?" you ask again.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, we'll turn you into a golem all right," he snaps. "You got some weird power or shit, and we don't want you getting back with those other guys, so we'll seal you up all good. We thought about shooting you, but they probably got ways to bring people back from the dead. Like us." He actually shudders before continuing. "So, a golem it is for you. We're not gonna put a mask on you, though. Not even gonna put you in a storeroom. No, they're already digging a hole and we're going to drop you into it, and it's a deep one. Then we're gonna fill it up and cover it with asphalt." He flashes you pained look. "I really do hope it kills you when we pour that stuff on you. It'd suck to be you if you were awake under there for a hundred million years, waiting for it all to wash away."<br/>
<br/>
All the spirit leaks out of you. For a moment you actually almost beg him for mercy, tell him that you've changed your mind and will help. But it's too late. He knocks on the door, and it opens. "Hey, can I go now," the new boss of all the golems whines at the trim soldier blocking his way. "My dad's waiting, and he's gonna kill me if he thinks I've been goofing off back here."<br/>
<br/>
"And that one?" the soldier asks, indicating you.<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever the colonel said to do with him," Will Prescott says. "Don't ask me, I don't fucking know anything." He steps around the man, and is gone.<br/>
<br/>
The soldier calls into the hall, and three more soldiers follow him into the room. You stand up straight and offer no resistance as they pick you up by your arms and legs and hustle you out.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
They take you into what looks like a hospital, into the back and into a small room. You crane your neck and see a book, open, lying on a gurney. You have only a brief glimpse of it before they drop you onto it.<br/>
<br/>
But it's enough to tell you the fake you was lying about the book being out of town. Probably everything else was a lie too.<br/>
<br/>
Not that it's a comfort to know that you resisted to the bitter end, now that it's upon you.<br/>
<br/>
They quickly bind your wrists and ankles with thick leather straps. A bucket of earth is dumped onto your chest, and then topped with a small bowl of other powders. One of the soldiers takes out an enormous Zippo lighter. He shoves a huge cigar into his mouth, expertly lights it, and puts the lighter away. He blows out a huge stream of smoke, and glances around at the other soldiers.<br/>
<br/>
Then he thrusts the cigar into the muck on your chest.</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112111221111121111222112211221111121121112212221222111211
author_id: seuzz
title: An Unexpected Escape
chapter_content:
<div><span style="font-size:1.47em;"><div> <span>Everything turns white.<br/>
<br/>
For what happened next: "<a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1942914/action/view/chapter_map/14111" target="_top" title="Interactive Story Chapter in Item # 1942914">An Unexpected Visitant</a>" <a href="https://www.Writing.Com/main/interactive-story/item_id/1942914/action/view/chapter_map/14111" target="_blank" title="Open in new window."><img border="0" height="12" loading="lazy" onmouseout="$(this).css('opacity', '.4');" onmouseover="$(this).css('opacity', '1');" src="https://www.Writing.Com/nw.gif" style="opacity:.4;" width="12"/></a><br/>
</span></div></span></div>


path: 1133112111211122111112111122211221122111112112111221222122211122
author_id: seuzz
title: The New Bosses
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><br/>
It all sounds screwy. Terribly screwy. You can't help thinking there must be some twist, some hidden agenda you're not seeing. Maybe the masks don't age. Maybe it's just a lie to make you <i>think</i> he's on the level when the colonel promises that they won't be replacing everyone.<br/>
<br/>
But if the masks do age, then it does make a weird kind of sense. <br/>
<br/>
You glance at the people in the next room, and flinch. You don't want to be tempted by <i>that.</i><br/>
<br/>
And suddenly you feel very tired. All that tensed strength you'd drawn off Frank has left you wrung out, exhausted. You just want all this to be over.<br/>
<br/>
Or maybe you want time to think. There will be time, later, to refuse their offer, and force them to put you onto the book and--<br/>
<br/>
But you really don't want that ending either. The human ape's instinct for self-preservation is reasserting itself.<br/>
<br/>
With legs trembling, you stumble over to the table and slouch into the chair. "Sure," you tonelessly mumble. "I'll do it. Whatever."<br/>
<br/>
The colonel says nothing for awhile. Then he gently lays a hand on your shoulder. "It'll be alright, Will. You'll see. It's not like you have to start tonight." As if reading your mind, he adds, "You probably want to sleep on it, and think it over. You have plenty of time to decide."<br/>
<br/>
You just bury your face in your arms. <br/>
<br/>
He gives you another reassuring pat. "Maybe you'll feel better if you talk to someone else."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to see my--" You can't call it--that thing that's waiting out there--your "father."<br/>
<br/>
"No. You'll like this other one."<br/>
<br/>
You keep your face down as the colonel exits. Who is he going to send in? Caleb? Keith? Gordon? Some converted priest? You shudder. You hope it won't be Frank or Joe or James; you'd probably start screaming if you saw that <i>they</i> had been captured and turned into golems.<br/>
<br/>
So your eyes twist up as the door opens again. A lanky figure enters and shuts it behind him. He cocks his head.<br/>
<br/>
You groan. You should have seen it coming.<br/>
<br/>
"How you feelin', dude?" Will Prescott asks you.<br/>
<br/>
You put your face down. You can't even shrug at him, let alone reply.<br/>
<br/>
Your double comes over and crouches next to you. Like the colonel, he rests a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, come on, you can talk to <i>me.</i> We don't have any secrets from each other."<br/>
<br/>
You turn your head to look at him. The ridiculous hair, the bristles on the lip and chin, the eyes that twist up to peer furtively at the world. For all that, he looks calmer and happier than you feel. <i>Of course. He's one of them, and totally comfortable in the world they're making. The world you've practically promised you'll help them make.</i><br/>
<br/>
"I was holding my breath while you were talking to the colonel," he says. "I was really hoping you'd make the right call. Frank and Joe and them can be kind of fun, I guess. But they're not gonna win. And it'll be a lot nicer being with us. Being with <i>me.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
You find your voice: "What do you mean? Are you going out there to be me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. I could tell you don't want to go home. It would be weird. I don't care what Colonel Broomstick-up-the-Butt says, it'd be weird. So I'll stick it out for you. You can be--" His laugh comes out as a hiss. "Oh, fuck me, Will, you're gonna have the fun side. Scoot over."<br/>
<br/>
You would like to put a little distance between you and this imposter, so you slide over on the chair. But that just means he sits down next to you. You're both skinny, and it's a decent-sized chair, but it's still awkward, each of you balanced on a single buttock on it. He puts his arm around your shoulder and leans in close.<br/>
<br/>
"So who are you going to be? At first, I mean. You can have anybody at Westside. <i>Anybody!</i> Well, except the wrestling team, because Rick--" He whistles. "That was hardcore."<br/>
<br/>
"How do you know about that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, man, we got the same-- Oh! You think I'm wearing that really old mask. No, this is a fresh one. They put it on you at Blackwell's. So, I remember everything you do, right up until the SWAT team busted in."<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes widen.<br/>
<br/>
He smiles, and grips your shoulder more tightly. "Yeah, you made the right call. We know all about what Frank and them were planning. That was pretty hardcore on your part too, volunteering for a suicide mission. I can't even believe it myself, and I <i>remember</i> volunteering." His gaze goes distant for a moment. "So, yeah," he continues. "You made the right call. We weren't going to give you a chance, you know, to do it."<br/>
<br/>
You take a deep breath. You're not sure if you feel disappointment or relief.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey, forget about it," your doppelganger says, and gives you an encouraging squeeze. "You chose right. And this is when the fun stuff starts. Because--" He bites on his smile.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because <i>I'm</i> in charge of things now!"<br/>
<br/>
His voice is hardly more than a whisper, but you can hear the shout of exaltation in it.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," he continues, and his eyes dance. "You guys, Rick, were all right about it being, like, layers and pyramids. And there's one guy at the very top. The one who orders all the other ones around, the one who sends that book around. He's totally secret, too. None of the other guys, the other golems, know who it is. Security measure, you know. It's run out of a single, anonymous email account. Whoever controls that email account controls the whole thing. And you know who that someone is?" <br/>
<br/>
There's now a mad light in his eyes. You can't believe it could be--<br/>
<br/>
"Me! Can you believe it? Maybe it's kind of obvious when you think about it. Like, poetic justice, since I was the one who found that book in Arnholm's. Well, <i>you</i> did. But they're also giving it to me because I'd be the last person you'd suspect." He grunts. "Maybe it's a little bit of an insult, being 'the last person you'd suspect', but I won't spit at it. Yeah, I'm charge of the whole operation, get to tell everyone what to do."<br/>
<br/>
You stare at him. A faint hope stirs inside you. Your hand feels numb as you slowly shift it, and stretch toward his face.<br/>
<br/>
But he pulls back. "You don't want to do that, dude. They're watching, but it wouldn't do you any good, either. Like I said, we know everything those guys said about the masks. What Nash said about that other spell, about putting a couple of hundred pounds of dirt inside a mask? It works. We did that to this mask, as a security measure. If anyone, if even you, put it on, you won't get inside it. I'll just come back. Sitting on <i>you,</i> but you'll be asleep, and it'll still be me running things.<br/>
<br/>
"But that's okay," he continues. "Because we'll be partners. I'll see to that."<br/>
<br/>
"What about the colonel?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, they're getting rid of him. He was running things, but he gave me the email address and the password. I've already gone in and changed it. And they're getting rid of the colonel. He's the only one that knows that I'm in charge, but that won't be for long. It's probably over by now. They're going to take his mask off and run it over with a tank or something, so no one will be able to put it on and figure out that it's me pulling the strings."<br/>
<br/>
You let out a deep sigh and look away. <i>They've got it all covered, don't they?</i> Control of the book is hidden inside a nobody kid, and no one except you and that kid--yourself in another form--know it. And nobody can get inside that nobody kid to get it back. "Where's the book now," you ask, not expecting an answer.<br/>
<br/>
And you don't get one. "That's classified,"  he grins. "But it's not even in town anymore. Off somewhere else, starting to do its business. Don't worry about it. And if you want to change places with someone who isn't already, you know, one of us, we'll just use that copy you made. You're going to making more copies, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"Excellent. But right now, what do you want to do? You got so many choices you probably don't know. And you can always switch around if you decide you don't like where you landed. I don't care, as long as you keep me posted on where you are."<br/>
<br/>
He waits expectantly. You're rather hoping he'll pick someplace for you. Maybe he senses that, for he gives you another friendly squeeze. "Tell you what, you probably want to start off someplace where you can scope out the possibilities. Kim Walsh is running things for us at Westside. You know how plugged in she is. So she's 'newgordon.' We got other people like that at Eastman, at Keyserling, Schuyler, all over, in fact. But we've got more at Westside than the other places. So how about you step in for Kim, look around, see who's available, or who you'd like who hasn't been changed."<br/>
<br/>
If this is all going to happen anyway, that would probably be the best choice. But you're also feeling totally exhausted, and part of you would just like crawl into bed here, and put off decisions until later.</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112111221111121111222112211221111121121112212221222111221
author_id: seuzz
title: The New "Newgordon"
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Sure, Kim sounds like a good idea," you mumble.<br/>
<br/>
Will Prescott claps you on the back. "Good call. I thought you'd go for it, which is why I suggested it." He grins, but there's no meanness in it. "Well, I gotta go," he says as he stands up. "Dad's waiting for me. He's probably all kinds of pissed off too. Almost nothing changes." He makes a face. "I'll, uh, shoot out an email to the guys when I get back home. You just hang loose." <br/>
<br/>
He gives you that stupid little two-fingered salute you sometimes use when you're feeling large and in charge, and saunters over to the door. "Yeah, can I go now?" he whines at the soldier who opens it. "My dad's waiting, and he's gonna kill me if he thinks I've been goofing off back here."<br/>
<br/>
"What about that one?" The soldier nods at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck if I know. Keep him here until someone tells you what to do with him, right?" He disappears, and the door closes.<br/>
<br/>
You put your head back on the table. Your brain is all a muddle. You try thinking things through, but you can't focus on anything except that in a little bit you are going to be leaving under a new face. And after that? Go with the flow, you guess.<br/>
<br/>
Go with the flow ... <br/>
<br/>
Your thoughts unwind into jumbled threads, and all the energy leaks out your joints. A great stillness settles over you.<br/>
<br/>
You lay very still, under the impression that--<br/>
<br/>
It's that throne again, what you felt at Blackwell's when the others made their escape. It's only the shadow of a reflection of you'd felt, but it feels like it's hovering over you, very near.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It must have been a dream, for you raise your head with a start, drool trailing out of the corner of your mouth. You blink hard. "Kim?" you say.<br/>
<br/>
It's Kim Walsh. Small, pert, pale, freckled, button-cute-under-her-strawberry-blonde-bob Kim. She's in a lime-green blouse and jeans, and she's hugging herself. "Hi Will," she says. "I got an order to come out here and--" She shrugs awkwardly and waves a hand in front of her face.<br/>
<br/>
You're hit by a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry, Kim."<br/>
<br/>
"For what?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, for taking it from you."<br/>
<br/>
"You're not taking anything from me," she says with a frown. "I'll still be here, it'll just be <i>you</i> running things on the inside."<br/>
<br/>
You shake the mud from your brain. She's right, of course. "What about the, uh, the golem? You know, the one that's, uh--"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, they'll get it a new mask. Probably one of the soldiers here on base." She looks around. "You should probably get it over with. It's getting late, and dad wouldn't understand, since he's not, uh--"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh God, it's going to be like that again, huh?</i> "Okay, come on then," you say as you stand up.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, one more thing. You're also supposed to take <i>that</i> with you--" She points to the sigil copy, still lying on the table where Colonel Lord had put it. "So you can start making copies."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." Your eyes water a little with embarrassment, now that it's come to the point. "Um, maybe we should get undressed first."<br/>
<br/>
She shrugs, and showing very little self-consciousness she unbuttons her blouse and takes off her shoes and bra and jeans and panties. Since she's not being shy--and since you'll be wearing her body in a few minutes--you're not shy about watching her. She is extraordinarily pale underneath, the way a lot of redheads are, and her skin is almost blue under the harsh lights. But she's slim where it counts and padded where it counts, and she has a kind of coltish grace when she moves: adorably awkward, but with an underlying poise.<br/>
<br/>
You also disrobe, and when all the clothes are off you lift the mask from the golem. A stone-like Kim Walsh appears beneath.<br/>
<br/>
It's rather a horrible moment for you. You've always liked Kim, because she's a nice girl, and you're moved by sudden pity and sadness for her state. You really wish you knew that you were doing the right thing by cooperating with the golems.<br/>
<br/>
You are cooperating with them, aren't you? It sure seems that way. You don't know which would be worse: That you're actually cooperating with them, or that you're too much of a coward to have gone through with Frank's plan even after volunteering for it.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe you could still find a way to act out the plan, or to act against the golems, even after muffing it so badly with the colonel? That fake you is being pretty friendly. He wouldn't let you touch his face. But if you got him alone, after switching out with someone big and strong, you could--<br/>
<br/>
Oh, but there's what he said about putting it on. That wouldn't do any good.<br/>
<br/>
Except you could pretend to be him, right, after getting rid of him? You and he look just alike. It could be like that story about the prince and the pauper. Except in this case, you're the prince who has to get back into the palace by pretending to be the pauper who has stolen the throne.<br/>
<br/>
For a small eternity this seems like a doable plan. And then you remember that none of the golems knows that "Will Prescott" is really the boss. They only follow the orders from the email account, and you can't get access to it, not with it locked in that mask.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Dammit, they really have thought it through so neatly.</i> They've been one step ahead of you and your friends all the way, from the moment you made that first, stupid golem.<br/>
<br/>
But is it because they're so smart, or is it because Frank and them are so stupid? Spitefully, it occurs to you that you've been working with some real dumbasses. They were gambling you could infiltrate the golems from the inside, but they didn't tell you how to get in touch with them. And even if the plan had gone off, how would they have known where to find you?<br/>
<br/>
How stupid do you have to be to miss the fact that if you put a spy inside an organization, you have to have some way of keeping contact with him?<br/>
<br/>
Of course, you didn't see the problem either, but you weren't supposed to be the professional.<br/>
<br/>
You're still holding Kim's mask and staring at the wall in a daze when you remember where you are and what you're supposed to be doing. You sway a little on your feet, and look down at the mask. Well, what's done is done. For the sake of her parents--as long as they are still real--you should play the part of their little girl. You lay on the table and put the mask to your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're just slipping your bare feet into the canvas tennis shoes when the door opens. It's the soldier that Kim saw guarding the door when she came in. He's got a squashed up face, with a pug nose and thick lips, and since (despite yourself) you're rather enjoying Kim's tight body, you wonder if the golem resents having to be someone so ugly. "New orders for you just came through," the soldier says. He holds out a clip board.<br/>
<br/>
You take the slip of paper with trembling fingers, for this runs counter to what your replacement--your boss--had earlier promised you. The orders are for "Kim Walsh" to report to a new address for "debriefing," and emphasizes that she is to bring "Will Prescott's clothes" and the "special paper for copying."<br/>
<br/>
You nod, gather up the things, and the soldier escorts you out. It's nearly ten o'clock by your watch, and you wonder how you'll be able to explain to your parents why you're going to miss curfew.<br/>
<br/>
But maybe that's the point. It was all a lie, and they're going to get rid of you.<br/>
<br/>
But why not get rid of you here, on the base? It's been wheels within wheels for so long that you shouldn't even worry. But you can't help worrying.<br/>
<br/>
You worry all the way along a line of corridors, all empty, and out a door. A company of soldiers is walking along, laughing, a few yards away. They're talking about a football game. It sounds so normal you're convinced they must be real people. And then they come closer, and swerve aside to crowd around you. "Is this him?" one of them asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," your escort says.<br/>
<br/>
"Interesting," another one says, and grabs you by the chin. "Cute, too."<br/>
<br/>
You jerk your chin out of his hand. "Lay off," your escort says. "The brass thinks he's important. More important than your carcasses." <br/>
<br/>
That's met by snorts, and they don't part to let you pass, and you have to squeeze between two of them. Your car--Kim's car--is parked a little ways away. You ignore a shout from one--"Don't be a stranger, now!"--as you get in.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh, it's horrible, utterly horrible. You have to get away. You can hide. Ditch Kim. She knows who all the golems are in Westside. You'll just get close to one of them and switch places. Someone with money. A guy. One of the teachers, maybe. And you'll take off and start a new life where they won't find you, at least for a good long time.</i><br/>
<br/>
But if you run, they'll know you've betrayed them.<br/>
<br/>
A new thought hits you as you drive out the gate. Maybe you should stick close to the fake you. Get someone in your family alone, switch places with one of them. You can do that: the Prescotts all answer to "newgordon." If you switch with one of them ... Maybe your duplicate will accidentally leave the email account open at some point. You've done that yourself, so maybe he will too. Just lay low, lay close, and snoop.<br/>
<br/>
That seems like a good plan, but dangerous. You're supposed to report to that new address. Who knows if you'll be able to escape from <i>it.</i></span></div></div>


path: 113311211121112211111211112221122112211111211211122122212221112212
author_id: seuzz
title: A Conspiracy Is Hijacked
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You pull into the deserted parking lot of a supermarket on the edge of town. Your hands tremble as you take out Kim's cell phone. You're frightened and so is she. But together you feel strong enough to do this. Kim Walsh has stood up to Chelsea Cooper before, and she's got a strong sense of right and wrong. You're going to do this.<br/>
<br/>
You send the email to your Dad: given his work, he has his phone set up to ring every time he gets a message, and he checks them often anyway. He can also get out of the house without it looking suspicious. So from the "newgordon" account you email him: "Go to Freylinghausen Park ASAP, meet contact, do exactly as ordered. Others in house MUST NOT know you have left. Secrecy vital. Acknowledge on receipt." Kim has sent plenty of messages like this over the last two days, so it's not a strain.<br/>
<br/>
You smile to yourself after sending it. It's the thrill of being able to order people around from the shadows, though you can guess it's only a fraction of the thrill that "fake Will" is feeling. But you also smile at the choice of rendezvous location. It's where Gordon met his own golem--the one that started all the problems. Besides being convenient, it seems like a fitting place to try turning the tables on the enemy.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Twenty minutes later you pull up behind your dad's car. He doesn't get out, so you go over and slide into the passenger side. "You who I'm supposed to meet?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Ycchh, this is creepy.</i> He looks and sounds just like Harris Prescott, gruff and impatient. You reach for his face. "We need to move your mask."<br/>
<br/>
He flinches back. "How come?"<br/>
<br/>
"Did newgordon say you could argue?"<br/>
<br/>
He snorts in the dark, and lets you grasp his brow and cheek. <i>It's like when you were a child and used to grab at his glasses.</i><br/>
<br/>
The mask comes off, and it's like a punch to the gut. "Oh, Jesus, Dad. I'm so sorry for all this," you whisper to yourself.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck. Kim would have to be a weeper.</i> <br/>
<br/>
For tears suddenly explode out your eyes, and you bawl and sob. "I'm so sorry, Dad. I'm such a-- Such a fuck up! You've always been there to clean up after me, and yell at me, but you've always-- Always--" Your tiny chest heaves, and you gasp and hiccup. You wipe the streaming tears from your face, but more pour out. Great streams of snot gush over your lips. "I'm so sorry!"<br/>
<br/>
You snuffle and blink, and your lips quiver. There's a knocking sound in your head.<br/>
<br/>
No, it's not in your head, it's by your ear, you realize. You turn to look through the window.<br/>
<br/>
Will Prescott is leaning there, staring back at you. "You okay in there, Kim?" he asks with a smirk.<br/>
<br/>
Your heart almost explodes out of your chest.<br/>
<br/>
Another figure appears beside him. "Don't be an asshole, Joe," Franks says as he leans in at the window and smiles. "It's okay, Will. It's all over. You did good. You did perfect."<br/>
<br/>
But you can only stare in horror. <i>They got them too? They got all of them?</i><br/>
<br/>
Frank seems to read your mind, for he grabs Prescott by the neck and rips at his face. A mask comes away, revealing Joe. His eyes roll back in his head, and he slips to the ground as Frank releases him.<br/>
<br/>
Frank takes a step back. "Come on out, Will. We'll tell you all about it."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's either the quietest loud party, or the loudest quiet party you've ever been to. You and seven other people are crowded into a cozy bedroom at the Linley Inn, a quaint little bed-and-breakfast near the Sutton Wilderness. Frank is there, and so is Joe (still in the old clothes he'd gotten off your golem); Nash and Rick; James Lamont; Aubrey Blackwell; and a little roly-poly man with patchy white whiskers. Everyone--except for Rick, who has a bottle of expensive Scotch all to himself--has a plastic cup endlessly filled with champagne from what appears to be a single, inexhaustible bottle. The radio plays a jazzy pop song. There's much laughing and joking and teasing. But though the music is soft and the décor brown and the voices quiet, the air seems to hang with tinsel and streamers, and when you glance at the ceiling you keep expecting to see rockets and Roman candles.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe it's all in your head, for you've never felt happier or in a greater mood to celebrate.<br/>
<br/>
"You can thank Nash," Frank says. For the first time since you've met him he seems relaxed. He still looks dark and pale, but there is genuine warmth behind the smile that splits his face. He fishes into the pocket of the shirt you'd been wearing before changing into Kim and pulls out something that looks like a silver burr: it even drags some threads with it. "He made it, and Joe slipped it on you when you weren't looking."<br/>
<br/>
"And you said I'd only get up to no good with those pickpocket lessons," Joe chortles.<br/>
<br/>
"Tank t'Perfesser," Nash calls over. "It's his design."<br/>
<br/>
You glance at Blackwell. The warlock is the quietest of the bunch, sitting in a corner and looking ill at ease with his hands folded in his lap. But the little "Santa" man is next to him, talking quietly but cheerfully, and as you watch you see a small smile come to Blackwell's face, and his eyes relax and gleam.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, it's a snooper-tracker," Frank continues. From his own pocket he pulls a candle. "We put it on you. Then, if one of us holds this candle and concentrates--" He demonstrates. "We could see you and listen in on where you were. That's how we hoped to get in touch with you after-- Well-- Thank goodness it didn't come to that."<br/>
<br/>
The party in your head fades a little. He sounds sincerely happy that you didn't get turned into a golem. But what do they <i>really</i> think about the way you betrayed your mission?<br/>
<br/>
"So," Joe continues, taking up the story as he claps you on the shoulder. "We were watching and listening while Colonel Lord was talking to you, and when that evil version of you came in. After he left you, we got over to Caleb and Keith's houses lickety-split--and I can book it when I have to--and got ourselves under their masks. Went over to goof on evil Will for a bit, and got another of these puppies planted on him. Left for a few minutes, until he'd logged into that goddamned email account, then rushed back over, cornered him upstairs, and got the mask off him."<br/>
<br/>
"But you're not supposed to be able to wear it," you object.<br/>
<br/>
"And we can't," Frank says. "But we didn't have to. We'd spied the password out of him with that bug, which gave us control of the account. And we had that old mask of you on hand. Rock-paper-scissors--which my brother, fuck him, always wins--" He glares at Joe, who grins back. "So Joe put it on and got into the golem's clothes. Meanwhile, I sent out an order to return the <i>Libra</i> to town, to this address, in fact. It should be here in a few hours, because it's in military hands and I told them to haul ass. Then we sent a message out to Fort Suffolk, ordering you here."<br/>
<br/>
"That message was from <i>you?</i>" you exclaim.<br/>
<br/>
"Yep. But then we saw you text your dad. We weren't sure what you were up to, but we shadowed him out of the house, and that's where we caught up to you. What <i>were</i> you doing, anyway?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was going to switch with him. I wanted to hide close to my doppelganger, snoop close in case he left that email account open."<br/>
<br/>
"Nice!" Joe exclaims, and high-fives you. "I'd say this counts as Will's first real field-work experience! And just about the biggest success we've had in years!"<br/>
<br/>
And though you smile back and raise your own cup in a six-way toast, a cloud still hangs in your head. It all worked out, but only because you collapsed in front of the golems' unexpected offer. And the whole thing, in a way, is your fault. If you hadn't found that stupid book--<br/>
<br/>
But you do your best to celebrate with them, and it isn't hard. The hours stretch well into the morning, but no one is in a mood for it to end; when people do start drifting out, you've the impression they're just taking the party to other rooms.<br/>
<br/>
But at around three you look around and notice that you're alone with the one man you don't know. He's sitting by the open French doors leading onto a balcony. With a soft smile he beckons you over. "I didn't want to interrupt the others," he says as he takes your hand. "I'm so happy to meet you finally, Will. My name is Charles Brennan. I'm Frank and Joe's father."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm pleased to meet you, sir." You surprise yourself with the honorific, but it feels very natural on your tongue, at least when speaking to this man. You sit next to him. "You're the head of the-- um--"<br/>
<br/>
"The <i>Stellae Errantes</i>," he says. "We'd like you to join. And you more or less have."<br/>
<br/>
And it suddenly comes out. "I don't think so, sir," you blurt. "You don't want me. I fucked up. I <i>betrayed</i> you, sir."<br/>
<br/>
"Why do you say that?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was supposed to sacrifice myself. I didn't. I agreed to work with them."<br/>
<br/>
He smiles gently. "Son, you were tired and frightened and confused. That's all. You rallied at the end."<br/>
<br/>
You'd like to feel as confident in yourself as he sounds.<br/>
<br/>
"And we weren't going to lose this fight. Not after you volunteered."<br/>
<br/>
"Because of Nash's bug."<br/>
<br/>
"No, because of you. You brought Sulva with you."<br/>
<br/>
"Who's that?"<br/>
<br/>
But the old man just smiles. "Do you want to stay here, son? There's much work to be done still. But you can come with me. Rest for a little while. I'd like that."</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111211122111112111122211221122111112112111221222122211122121
author_id: seuzz
title: The New Puppetmasters
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What work, sir?" you ask the old man. "I thought it was all over."<br/>
<br/>
"Once the <i>Libra</i> is our hands it will be. I'm staying up, in fact, until it arrives. But there is still much to clean up."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean reversing the spells?"<br/>
<br/>
"I hope so. But in the meantime there are still many hundreds of golems out there."<br/>
<br/>
"They can still cause problems?"<br/>
<br/>
"Possibly, though they are at rest when they do not have the <i>Libra</i>. They fill the lives they have stolen, and wait. But they still have an organization. It needs managing, to prevent them from getting up to mischief. The girl you were meant to impersonate--" He gestures at Kim's mask, and the pile of clothes beneath it. "It would be best if you or another continued to play her part. Or, at the very least, took over the account she used to manage your school."<br/>
<br/>
"Me, you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. As yourself, or in the guise of another."<br/>
<br/>
"You mean as-- But wouldn't that be wrong, sir?"<br/>
<br/>
"They already have false faces, many you know. There is no great wrong in putting yourself behind them, so long as you cause them no harm while in the disguise. It might even be better to manage the lives they have usurped by shifting between guises. We want to return those lives to their owners, once we have learned how to reverse the spell that has been laid upon them."<br/>
<br/>
"I understand, sir. I think."<br/>
<br/>
"Your friend, James Lamont, will help, taking a similar responsibility. Frank and Joe will also remain. The others have tasks elsewhere. But you will not be alone."<br/>
<br/>
"Thank you, sir." <br/>
<br/>
He smiles, and again you're reminded of a retired Santa Claus. He seems so kind that you can't imagine-- <br/>
<br/>
It's none of your business, but you don't think he'd mind. "What will happen to Professor Blackwell, sir? He's afraid that you will--"<br/>
<br/>
"The professor has nothing to fear. I've spoken long with him. He will return with me."<br/>
<br/>
"But what will--?"<br/>
<br/>
The old man touches your knee. "Don't fret, son. He is happy now. Happier than he has been in many years, and rather anxious to leave town, in fact. You'll understand one day."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, sir." <br/>
<br/>
The fireworks have faded now, and you're very sleepy. The old man gives you a key, and tells you to get some sleep.<br/>
<br/>
It's dark in the hallway as you pad down it, but not entirely silent. As you pass a door you hear Frank's muffled voice. "Pick it up, Joe. Pick it up or by Lurga I'll--" There's a hard thump.<br/>
<br/>
Your room is much like the other, but done in blues rather than browns. After slipping off your shoes you fall onto the bed, and know nothing more until--<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Wake up, lazybones!" <br/>
<br/>
You bounce up sharply, and recoil from the terrifying apparition. Joe presses his face close to yours and grins. "Half the day's already gone and you're missing the best part!"<br/>
<br/>
"What time is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Seven-thirty, and there's cinnamon rolls down in the dining room. Dad says I can't have one until you're dressed and down there with us! Up, up, up!" He slaps at you.<br/>
<br/>
You struggle off the bed and into shoes while Joe barks at you. You run fingers through your hair, and then Joe grabs you by the neck and hauls you out the room.<br/>
<br/>
The dining room is open and airy, with tall, wide windows on three sides. A long, dark table runs down its middle, with a dozen or so chairs around it. There's another table off to the side, holding chafing dishes and plates and bowls. That's where Nash and Rick are, both looking as disheveled as you feel. Frank and James are sitting next to each other at the table; Frank has his head cocked and is listening with quizzical interest to whatever James is saying. At the far end Charles Brennan and Aubrey Blackwell sit facing each other. They seem utterly absorbed in their topic as well, and are talking with great energy over each other.<br/>
<br/>
Joe urges you over to the serving table and piles his plate high with scrambled eggs and greasy sausage links, two cinnamon rolls, a pancake with syrup, a cluster of round, firm grapes, and something that is either a very large orange or a rather small grapefruit. You content yourself for the moment with a single cinnamon roll and a cup of coffee, which you desperately need now that the adrenaline from Joe's wakeup call has worn off. You've just raised it to your lips when Joe nudges you hard in the ribs, sending it sloshing all over the place.<br/>
<br/>
"So are you-- Hey, sorry 'bout that." He mops up the puddle with one of his rolls and takes a bite from it. "Stayin' or goin'?"<br/>
<br/>
"What?" How can someone be so awake so early on such little sleep?<br/>
<br/>
"Are you stayin' in town or goin' back with Dad?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh." You take a deep breath and look down the table at Charles Brennan. "I really like your dad."<br/>
<br/>
"He <i>is</i> awesome, isn't he? He's the reason we got out of Blackwell's."<br/>
<br/>
"What?" you say again. You put the coffee down and rub your eye.<br/>
<br/>
"He was the reinforcement I brought in. You felt it settle around the house, right, just as we left?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>That "spirit"?</i> "That was him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. Glundandra. Big-ass thing, bigger than all the rest of us put together. Froze the things outside in their tracks, and they could only stare as we went sauntering past. I wanted to tie a bunch of their shoelaces together, but Rick--" Joe shovels some eggs into his mouth. "Anyway, so you're going with Dad?"<br/>
<br/>
"Actually, I was thinking of staying here. He said something about cleaning things up."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, that's what the rest of us are going to be doing. So you're staying?" He looks at you, an expression of absolute delight on his face. "Excellent! You hear that, Frank--?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can't hear <i>anything</i> with you making all that noise, Joe."<br/>
<br/>
"Will's staying here with us!"<br/>
<br/>
"Good. We could use the manpower." That pinched and worried look you're used to seeing on his face is back.<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft. Manpower. More like 'funpower'! We get to wear <i>disguises!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Like you didn't have enough of that over the last two days," Frank says severely. <br/>
<br/>
"Oh, that was <i>work.</i> This is gonna be more like--" Joe drops his silverware and grabs you by the shoulders. He whispers in your ear: a tickling sensation. "We've got to keep them happy. And when it's boyfriends and girlfriends, best way to keep 'em happy is with the ess-ee-ecks." He releases you, but grins madly in your face.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you plotting over there, Joe?" Frank demands.<br/>
<br/>
"Plotting? Moi? I don't 'plot,' Frank--"<br/>
<br/>
"Good, and don't start. There won't be much call for it in the middle schools."<br/>
<br/>
Joe has picked up his fork, but he drops it with a clatter. "What do you mean, middle schools?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll be managing the city services and Fort Suffolk. Will and James will be managing the high schools. That leaves the three middle schools to you."<br/>
<br/>
"Middle school?! I don't wanna run around with a lot of snot-nosed, squeaky-voiced--"<br/>
<br/>
"You'll fit right in, even without a mask."<br/>
<br/>
"Frank!"<br/>
<br/>
"Joe!"<br/>
<br/>
"Boys!" That's their father. <br/>
<br/>
Joe glares at his brother. "Frank, that's junior-grade work, and--" He claps his mouth shut and looks between you and Lamont. "Well, I don't wanna be a dick about it--"<br/>
<br/>
"So don't be a dick. Dad says I'm still in charge, and <i>you</i> get to handle the middle schools."<br/>
<br/>
Joe stares sullenly down into his plate. "And it started out as such a nice day."<br/>
<br/>
"I could take middle school, Frank," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I want you in a high school. To start with, anyway. If this thing lasts more than a few weeks, we'll probably switch around, check each other's work. But for now do you want to handle Eastman or Westside?"<br/>
<br/>
You look at Lamont. "You got a preference, man?"<br/>
<br/>
He hesitates. "It's probably going to be rough either way." He licks his lips. "They got Carson, you know. And Caleb and Keith."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yeah. It would be hard looking at them, and knowing they're fakes.</i><br/>
<br/>
"There's also the wresting team," he continues. He winces. <br/>
<br/>
You look around the table. "What about the wrestling team?"<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't you see that part of the news?" Frank asks. "When you and Rick escaped. You can't throw that much water with that kind of force at a human body without it doing bad things. Most of them-- Well, if you can kill a golem, that's what Rick wound up doing to most of the wrestling team."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck!"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. So, it's a shit scene over there. Lots of grief counselors for things that can't grieve, along with those that can. The media--which the golems still control, of course--is calling it a terrorist act, linking it to the cell that escaped from Blackwell's house."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yes,</i> you think. <i>That would make being at Westside very hard. Especially as the student council president.</i><br/>
<br/>
You're still mulling this when a man in a military uniform marches smartly in and asks for "Charles Brennan." The old man raises his hand, and the officer hands him a package and withdraws. Brennan opens it just enough to glance inside. "And that's the end of it," he says to rest of the company, which has gone quiet.<br/>
<br/>
And then cheers erupt.</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111211122111112111122211221122111112112111221222122211122122
author_id: seuzz
title: To Bed, Twice
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"What work, sir?" you ask the old man. <br/>
<br/>
"There are still many hundreds of golems out there," he says. "Filling the lives they have stolen, waiting. They need managing, to prevent them from getting up to mischief. The girl you were meant to impersonate--" He gestures at Kim's mask, and the pile of clothes beneath it. "She had charge over your high school?" You nod. "Someone should play her part."<br/>
<br/>
"Me, you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. As yourself, or in the guise of another."<br/>
<br/>
You think you see what he means. It wouldn't be much different from what the golems themselves had offered you, except for its goal. Instead guiding the golems to take over more lives, you would keep them corralled until they could be changed back.<br/>
<br/>
"Frank and Joe are staying here, to do that," Charles continues. "Your friend James will help as well."<br/>
<br/>
"I should stay and help too," you say slowly. "I started it all."<br/>
<br/>
"You were only a pebble, son," the old man says. "Don't claim more for yourself than you deserve."<br/>
<br/>
"But I should." Vast loathing overwhelms you. <i>You would be surrounded by fakes. Fake friends, fake families.</i><br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to," Charles says quietly. "In this matter, you should trust your strength. Or your weakness, if that is what you feel. Don't let a nagging and shrewish conscience--an unreliable guide at best--bully you into anything."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to take a vacation while everyone else--"<br/>
<br/>
"It wouldn't be a vacation," Charles laughs. "I'd put you to work. And you'd begin your training, even if it didn't feel like it."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Training.</i> "I hardly know what I'm getting into," you say.<br/>
<br/>
He looks at you kindly. "It is late. You've had an exhausting day, and a long party at the end of it. Sleep now, and we'll talk tomorrow." He gives you a key to another room.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You don't get much sleep, actually. Joe wakes you up early--bounding onto your bed and shouting you out of slumber--and drags you downstairs to a grand breakfast. You only listen quietly as he and Frank and James discuss the work to be done in Saratoga Falls. Joe affects keen disappointment when you tell them that you'll probably be leaving town with Charles, but Frank claps you on the arm and says you've chosen well. James's expression is unreadable.<br/>
<br/>
While people are still eating, a man in a military uniform enters and gives Charles a package: the <i>Libra Personae,</i> retrieved from whatever city it had been sent to, and to cheering Charles rises to take it upstairs. He beckons you to follow.<br/>
<br/>
Up in his bedroom he carefully packs it in a suitcase. "Are you ready to go?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sir?" you exclaim. "Now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Long farewells are awkward. You'll see everyone very soon. And it is best to nip regrets at leaving before they take root."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll need to go home and pack," you say, but he shakes his head. <br/>
<br/>
"The boys will do that and send it along. You'll find it waiting, in fact."<br/>
<br/>
"So where are we going?"<br/>
<br/>
"To where I live, eventually. It's a little town no one has ever heard of, up in the Rockies. But we would have to make another stop first." <br/>
<br/>
"What do I need to take with me? A toothbrush?"<br/>
<br/>
He smiles. "Come as you are, Will."<br/>
<br/>
You expect him to lead you out into the hall, but instead he goes over to the bathroom door. It is shut, but instead of opening it he runs his palm over the doorjamb: up one side, across the top, and down the other. Where his hand brushes it, golden lines appear. It's an inscription in some strange but beautiful-looking script.<br/>
<br/>
"Is that a magic door?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"In a sense," he says. "It won't take us to another world, though. Only to a kind of place in back of this one." He opens the bathroom door and steps through.<br/>
<br/>
It is pitch black within. Though he stands only a foot or two inside, you can barely see him. He holds out a hand. "Hold onto me, son. I won't lose you." You grasp him tentatively, and then tightly, as darkness swallows you up.<br/>
<br/>
You walk for a very long time--miles it seems--saying little. The floor is smooth and firm, and you soon lose your fear of stumbling. You can see nothing either, but the phantom lights in your own eyes. From time to time a fear seizes you: Have you lost Charles's hand, and are now gripping onto some horrible thing? Each time you have that thought, though, the old man murmurs something. You can't catch the words, but his voice and tone reassure you.<br/>
<br/>
Finally, a little light appears in the distance. It grows as you approach, and resolves itself into a little pool cast by an unseen source. It falls on and surrounds a low object.<br/>
<br/>
It's a stone bier. <br/>
<br/>
Charles gently presses you onto it. "Lay back, son. It's quite alright. It's a bed, that's all."<br/>
<br/>
You still swallow as you raise your legs to the bier and lay your head back. Charles's expression is gentle and warm as he gazes down on you.<br/>
<br/>
"You will sleep for a bit, Will. You will dream. No nightmares, I'm sure. But I don't know what the dreams will be of. You will wake, as you wake every morning, but refreshed and without weariness, and will feel that no time has passed."<br/>
<br/>
You can't stop a sassy thought from forming. Charles sees your expression, and asks you what it is. Shamed-faced, you tell him, for you don't think you could resist any request he makes of you: "I was just wondering if there'll be flying cars when I woke up."<br/>
<br/>
He does the last thing you'd expect: He bursts out laughing. "No, there will be no flying cars, son. If you wake to find them, you'll know you're dreaming. Ah, me," he says as he recovers himself. "If only everyone who came here had your sense of humor." He twinkles down at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Now, close your eyes, and I will sing to you. It won't be the song we sing for most who come here. It will be my song, and I sing it for very few."<br/>
<br/>
You do as he commands. Briefly you hear your own breathing, and then a soft tune fills your ears. It is sweet and melancholy, like a lullaby. There are words, but you can't catch them, and the melody is also elusive. Your senses rock as you try to follow it, but--<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It is dark, but you are not alone. A dim circle is hanging before you, shining faintly. You sense a vacuum about you, and as the circle grows larger you feel yourself pulled toward it, possibly at an immense speed. For it grows larger and larger, filling your vision. It is pocked with smaller circles and dark patches and ridges.<br/>
<br/>
It's the Moon. It is bright now, with a frosty light. You plunge through it, and feel it about you.<br/>
<br/>
And you're not alone. <i>He</i> is now with you, all about you, in the form of a voice, whispering words you can't make out, nuzzling at your ears. His tone is insistent, but filled with a stern tenderness. Thin tendrils touch you, and wrap about you, but loosely. You somehow understand that they cannot bind you, that only you can wrap yourself in them. And you do, spinning yourself up in a light cocoon, cloaking what you now perceive was your own nakedness within the lunar light.<br/>
<br/>
His name is Sulva, you understand.<br/>
<br/>
And then you are in the darkness again. Sulva is still with you, but there is another globe now. It throbs, as though under titanic pressures, laboring and laboring without buckling. It is wrapped in a Stygian cold and darkness, but you sense it is brimming with light and heat, bent over Herculean labors. You plunge through it as well, and now there is another voice, rougher and quicker than the other, speaking quickly and brightly. His name is Kenandandra. Sulva's voice doesn't fade, but joins the other in a kind of murmuring duet. <br/>
<br/>
Your own voice quickens, and you try to join them, though you can't find the words. But you feel them encouraging you.<br/>
<br/>
You're back in the darkness again, but with the other two. You dance in a circle. And then they fade, and you sleep again.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You waken to feel a hand brushing your cheek. "Wake up, son," a voice says. You open your eyes. Charles Brennan is standing where you had last seen him. He holds out a hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Sir?" you ask as you take it. "Is it morning?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," he says. "A beautiful morning, too."<br/>
<br/>
You are stiff as you rise, but strength flows from the old man into you, and you hop to your feet. It is still dark, except in this pool of light, but you know there is light elsewhere. Bright light.<br/>
<br/>
You are about to follow when your eye chances on a dim shape just to the side. You peer at it. It's another bier. Aubrey Blackwell is stretched on it. His eyes are closed, and his expression troubled. "He's here too?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes," says Charles. "He also sleeps, and will sleep for a long time yet. His dreams, I fear, are not as sweet as yours were. But he will wake again, to happiness. But come. Have no fears for him."<br/>
<br/>
You take the old man's hand, and he leads you. Far in the distance you see a pinprick of light, like a star. Again, it is a long journey, but the pinprick resolves into a tall, white rectangle, and when you reach it you find a door.<br/>
<br/>
It doesn't lead into a bedroom, though, but into open air. It is very cold. The sky is a powdery blue color, and snow covers the ground. A trail of deep footprints leads to the back door of a small house.<br/>
<br/>
You look behind you, to see the old man close the door to a small metal shed. "Come inside while the cocoa is still hot, son," Charles said. "Joe is getting impatient to open his presents."<br/>
<br/>
"Presents, sir?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes." He smiles. "It's Christmas morning, Will."</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122
author_id: seuzz
title: Back to Being a Booby
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Maybe you bridle because of the way Justin seems to be claiming <i>your</i> friends as his own. But you don't say so. "Nah, I'd probably just fuck it up," you mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"Not looking like that, you wouldn't," he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"You're in charge, you should handle it." You briefly wonder if it's Justin's mask that's making it so easy for you to resist the frown he gives you. "Come on, this was fun, but let's switch back. Playing each other at school is one thing, but outside of school and at home is another."<br/>
<br/>
"Me and Perry have--" he starts to say, then relents with an ill-tempered shrug. "Okay, you know where to meet me after last period." He gives you a dark look, then steps back into the crowd.<br/>
<br/>
Yeah, you know where to meet him, and if you didn't know you'd get a reminder when you shuffle into your last class and slouch in a desk in the back. Out of the corner of your eye you catch Faith Becker with her head turned in your direction. But she's not looking at you directly; she's looking at your bare knee. It's a brown, well-turned thing, and you raise it to rest your foot on the empty seat in front of you, and scratch it. She raises her eyes, and they lock briefly onto yours; she turns a trifle red and looks away.<br/>
<br/>
You shift a little in your seat as your cock engorges at the memory of being with her. Faith was hot and wet when you took her in the portable near the end of last year, and she'd moaned and squealed as you'd thrust inside her; you'd winced as her fingernails had bitten into your back. Not many words had gotten exchanged afterwards as you'd buttoned yourself up, just as not many words had been exchanged before; she'd only had to gaze at you with that hungry look and stroke the back of your arm. You hadn't many words for Perry when he'd asked you about it back at Tsosie's, and he hadn't many words--only a look of embarrassment--a week later when you asked about his session with her.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh,</i> you sigh, <i>but it wasn't you. It was Justin.</i> You wonder what you'd have done if she had come to you--Will Prescott--with that look, and slouch deeper in the desk at the thought that she probably wouldn't have. She never has, though she's known to be in a constant state of sexual humidity.<br/>
<br/>
And that, naturally, sets you to wondering if Justin has been plotting to use <i>your</i> body to score with any girls. Well, you'd like to flatter yourself that he could, but after getting a look at yourself only a little while ago--<br/>
<br/>
Maybe he's looking for a challenge?<br/>
<br/>
You slouch even deeper, the back of the chair biting into your shoulder blades. You can't really tell what he would have been thinking, and you can't even tell what he had been thinking while he was with Faith. It's funny, now that you're concentrating on the point, but you don't have all of his memories directly in front of you, not immediately and transparently. You have to concentrate on specific incidents or people if you want to bring them up. Except when they come unbidden. There was that moment during third period, for instance, when you were looking at the vocabulary words on the board, and something about the writing made you think of Esther Kendall, a classmate that Justin had back in the fourth grade, and of the way she used to practice the capital, cursive "E" of her name, looping it over and over again on her notebook.<br/>
<br/>
It would be a grim and unfortunate thing if there were something wrong with the "memory functions" in these masks. Luckily, you seem to have gotten through the day with Justin's instincts alright.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Well, that's not strange," Will Prescott says. There's more than a trace of irritation in his voice, and you feel a bit of temper rising in yourself. A guy with that kind of whine in his voice has no business acting like a smug little know-it-all. You have to tamp back your discomfort, because of course he is sounding like <i>you</i> usually do.<br/>
<br/>
It's after school, and the two of you are inside one of the portables--a key to which Justin has on his key ring, and you're leaning against the abandoned desk at the front--the same desk on which Justin took Faith. Your confederate had asked you about the day, and you'd mentioned "instinct" taking over, and the oddness of not having all of Justin's memories right in front of you. "It's not like you have all of <i>your</i> memories, like, right with you all the time," he says. "You have to <i>think</i> about what you want to remember."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess," you grumble. You'll have to remember to run the experiment yourself when you're back in your own skin. It's an interesting thing, and you frown slightly at the puzzle of the way memory works. You were reading something not too long ago, something by St. Augustine--well, <i>Justin</i> was reading it, because Justin reads all kinds of weird shit--about the mind and memory and learning-- <br/>
<br/>
"Come on," Will says impatiently. "If we're gonna switch back, let's do it."<br/>
<br/>
"You first," you say, and gesture at the desk. "I'll keep watch." He rolls his eyes, and you fight the urge to smack him. He lays back on the desk, drops his hand over his brow, mutters, and pulls. You shift your stance so you can look down at him, and at the face you are now temporarily sharing. It's a strong face, though heavy-lidded, and a handsome one. Briefly, as your mind goes back to your time with Faith on this very spot, you're tempted to change your mind about switching back. You could go out this afternoon and try to find some girl to fuck. <i>Urgh,</i> you sigh to yourself. <i>How pathetic is it that you're fantasizing about getting laid under someone else's face.</i><br/>
<br/>
While he's unconscious you move those spell copies you'd made into your own backpack and then peel off most of his clothes and all of your own. That done, you slap him awake, and after he's rolled off the desk with a groan, you slide onto it and take your own mask off.<br/>
<br/>
"So what am I supposed to be doing with Caleb and Keith," you ask as you're getting dressed again.<br/>
<br/>
"You'll see," Justin says with a sour half-smile. He's already put your mask and his back into his bag, and is idling by the door.<br/>
<br/>
"You weren't gonna try to get them laid, were you?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
He barks out a laugh. "Keith? Laid? I like a challenge, but--" He grins and shakes his head, and leaves even before you're ready to follow.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So we're here. What did you want to show us?" Caleb asks as you get out of the car.<br/>
<br/>
You're in the parking space at the entrance to Sutton Wilderness, a state nature preserve a few miles outside of town. You'd not asked your friends where you were going, for they seemed to think it had been your idea, though they'd also seemed reluctant to go along with it. Keith twists his cap brim-forward and squints expectantly at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Uh, I just thought we'd go on a little nature hike," you lamely stammer. That probably had been Justin's intent--outdoorsman that he is.<br/>
<br/>
"Since when are you interested in nature," Caleb snorts. "Last time we were outside you were talking about how they should build gigantic air conditioners in the sky because it was so hot."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it's not hot now," you say, and privately resolve to punch Justin for putting you into this pickle.<br/>
<br/>
"It ain't so cool either, in any sense of the word," Caleb grumbles. "Well, as long as we're here, we should probably look around."<br/>
<br/>
You shrug and try to follow them, but they prefer to let you take the lead, and so you set off up a wide trail. You keep looking back to make sure they are with you, for you can't help feeling that they will try to ditch you.<br/>
<br/>
"So what kind of bush is this?" Keith asks after a few minutes. You shrug. "What kind of tree is that?" You shrug again. "I thought you said you'd been reading up on this stuff," he says crossly.<br/>
<br/>
"I just started," you protest. "I haven't learned a lot yet."<br/>
<br/>
"You haven't learned <i>anything,</i> Will," Caleb says. "Come on, this is as pointless as that time you wanted us all to learn to play guitar so we could start a band."<br/>
<br/>
"I was totally serious about that," you hotly retort. "If you guys had followed through by buying some instruments--"<br/>
<br/>
"We didn't because we knew it was just a fad with you."<br/>
<br/>
"I woulda been serious if--"<br/>
<br/>
"So why didn't <i>you</i> buy a guitar?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I could tell <i>you guys</i> weren't serious about it."<br/>
<br/>
"We weren't serious because we knew that <i>you</i> weren't."<br/>
<br/>
You put your hands on your hips and glare at Caleb, ignoring the way Keith is grinning idiotically at you. "You don't think I'm serious about anything, do you?"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have the self-discipline," Caleb says. Then he shrugs. "'Course, it's not like I do either. Learning how to play an instrument sucks. It'd be different if we could just suck up the knowledge directly."<br/>
<br/>
You roll your eyes. And then a thought hits you: Those masks Justin has made probably do copy talents as well as memories and personality traits. Why <i>couldn't</i> you use them to copy some people's talents?<br/>
<br/>
Caleb shifts on his feet and looks back at the car. And now you're thinking, <i>Why not tell your friends about Justin and what he's got? You'd like to have some allies in that group anyway.</i></span></div></div>


path: 1133112111222
author_id: seuzz
title: Talent Search
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You don't give the idea much consideration. Though you would like to have your old friends with you, you suspect that Justin would <i>not</i> want them in for just that reason. And, anyway, once you start telling people, where does it end? Keith frowns as you shoot him a dark glance. <i>Yeah, Tilley in particular would have a hard time keeping his mouth shut.</i><br/>
<br/>
Caleb sighs loudly, which brings you back into the moment. "Yeah, this was a stupid idea, coming out here," you admit. "I dunno. I guess it was just temporary insanity." The words surprise you, and then they worry you. "Was I acting normal today," you hesitantly ask them. "I mean, aside from wanting to come out here, was I acting like myself?"<br/>
<br/>
"You were acting like a dipshit," Caleb says. You flip him the bird, and he slaps your hand.<br/>
<br/>
They have no better ideas for what to do, though, so after picking your truck back up at Caleb's, you go home.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Though you're feeling pissed at Justin for sending you off that pointless nonadventure, you figure it's best to keep on his good side. Besides, you're now intrigued by the idea of copying talents, so after dinner you call his house. His mom--you have to guess--answers, and it's a few minutes before he himself picks up another extension. "How was Sutton?" he asked with a chuckle.<br/>
<br/>
"We didn't stay long. What was the idea of that, anyway? You <i>knew</i> I didn't know anything about that place or anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, that's why I set it up. Anyway, I thought it'd impress your friends if you suddenly knew something about something for once in your life."<br/>
<br/>
"And what would it have looked like afterward, when we switched back? Oh, never mind." You wrestle yourself back into a good temper. "Are we getting together tonight? I mean, you and Perry and Maize, and maybe me?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why, you looking for a four-way with Victoria? We gotta pop your cherry inside her at some point."<br/>
<br/>
"That's not what I was thinking about," you hurriedly say, and then more hurriedly add, "I mean, I know I'm supposed to." You wince. <i>Fuck, this guy has got you totally wrongfooted.</i> "But what about you and me getting together, tonight maybe? Just to talk? You seemed kind of mad when we left school."<br/>
<br/>
"Nah, I wasn't mad," he says. "But I got stuff to do. What did you want to talk about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I just had an idea for those masks," you say. You describe what you'd thought about at Sutton, about copying talents and abilities. "Can you do that with masks?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," he says. "You get everything. And you don't gotta look like the person either."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, the masks actually come in two parts. There's the mask, which copies the person's face and body, and you can wear that without having their memories or personality or anything like that. And then there's this little metal strip-- Don't you remember any of this? You were me all day."<br/>
<br/>
"It's all kind of faded." You glance at your backpack, where you have those copies of the spells you'd made; they weren't really enlightening about what they were supposed to do.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I guess it has. Anyway, there's this little metal strip that you use to get their brains and everything else inside them. You can wear that separately, and that'll give you their brain without changing your appearance. The masks we were wearing, and like we have with Victoria, those combine the masks and those metal strips, which make them a total disguise."<br/>
<br/>
"I see. So those metal strips give you talents too?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. When we were playing around with the early spells, me and Maize put on the little strips that we'd made of each other. Suddenly I could play ball like him. Why, you wanna try out for the basketball team or something?"<br/>
<br/>
"Have you <i>heard</i> about the kind of shit that goes on with them?" you exclaim. "No, I was-- Well, last year I was thinking about--" You suddenly feel very shy. "I wanted to start a garage band with Caleb and Keith." You turn red even before Justin can react.<br/>
<br/>
And then he does react: an explosive laugh. "Oh, fuck me, Will," he gasps. "That's hilarious!"<br/>
<br/>
"What's so funny about it?" You turn even redder. "A lotta guys--"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, a lotta guys," he laughs again. "Yeah, okay, I know what you mean. Yeah, you could copy a musician, get their talent. I even know who you could copy. But who would you start a band with? Caleb and Keith?"<br/>
<br/>
"They don't know how to play any instruments."<br/>
<br/>
"And you're not going to give them any shit that will let them," he says in a warning tone. "You'd have to find some guys who can already play."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess I could do that," you say.<br/>
<br/>
He snorts. "Well, I could set it up for you, if you're serious about it. It'd take a little while, though. Probably. And you'd owe me."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure," you say. And then when he says nothing you realize what "owe" probably means. "Owe you what, exactly?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'd have to think about it," he says. "Use my imagination."<br/>
<br/>
You shudder, for though you've been outside his mask for several hours now, you know how "imaginative" Justin can be. "We'll talk about it later, I guess," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Tomorrow afternoon," he says. "At Tsosie's. While we're cuddling."<br/>
<br/>
You suppress another shudder as you hang up.<br/>
<br/>
Still, you like the idea. Getting the brain and talent of someone who's really good on the guitar. Standing at the front of a page and thrashing out some sick and brutal stuff. Wiping away the sweat afterward--no, not even wiping it away before thrusting your arm in the air and acknowledging the cheers of all the girls down on the floor cheering you and pressing up to get close-- You grin: There's your fantasy for tonight, after you go to bed. <br/>
<br/>
But if you're going to follow through, you'll have to do some work on your end. Like, getting an instrument for a start. You get online and do a quick search and--<br/>
<br/>
Your face craters. <i>They cost how much?!?!?!?</i><br/>
<br/>
You push back from your desk and drum the arm of your chair. If you're going to make this dream a reality, you're going to have to do some pretty grotty things for Justin, it sounds like. But even worse than that, you'll have to--<br/>
<br/>
You leap to your feet before you can chicken out.<br/>
<br/>
Your dad is in his study, half-rim spectacles well down the bridge of his nose as he glances between his laptop and some schematics. He glances up only briefly as you knock at the door. "Hey, Dad," you say. Maybe it's the tremor in your voice, or the terrified smile you feel twisting across your lips that makes him do a double-take as he looks back up at you. He frowns. "Yeah, um, so, I was thinking I wanted to learn how to play an instrument."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh," he says after a moment's thought, then looks back down at the laptop. "Sounds like a fine idea."<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" you gasp. "Because I'd need to buy a guitar--"<br/>
<br/>
"We have a piano, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to learn how to play the piano."<br/>
<br/>
"You said you wanted to learn to play an <i>instrument.</i> Piano's an instrument."<br/>
<br/>
"I wanna learn how to play the guitar."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh," he says dryly.  "How long have you been thinking about this?"<br/>
<br/>
"For awhile."<br/>
<br/>
"Why are you telling me <i>now?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I'd need to borrow some money so I could buy a guitar."<br/>
<br/>
"How much?"<br/>
<br/>
You tell him.<br/>
<br/>
The air freezes, and then turns molten. He leans back in his chair. You steel yourself for an explosion, but he delivers his reply in a mild tone. "You can buy it yourself."<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw drops. "I don't have--!"<br/>
<br/>
"No you don't, and you're not getting it from me. You can get a job, though. I know exactly where you can get a job, and I can make sure you can get it."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Aw, cripes, not that job at Salopek again.</i> "But it would take me forever to save up to buy a--!"<br/>
<br/>
"No it wouldn't. Because you'd come home after your first day and find that guitar waiting for you." <br/>
<br/>
Your heart leaps in a way it shouldn't, considering how thin your dad's smile is. "Really! You'd buy it for me just for--?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. It wouldn't take you forever to save up to buy the guitar. But it would take you forever to save up to pay me back. Because you would." His smile tightens like a noose. "You'd have to hang onto that job at least until you'd paid me back. With interest. Lucky for you the Fed's been--" Color shows in his cheek, and he chokes a little as his eye returns to the laptop.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fuck!</i> you mutter to yourself. He would find a way to turn it into a trap.<br/>
<br/>
Your dad takes a deep breath. "So, how serious are you about this? You weren't just thinking about how awesome it would be to play in a band, were you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I was serious," you say, and fight the flush of embarrassment in your cheek. "So--"<br/>
<br/>
But you can't say you'll do it, no matter how much you'd like to shut him up by doing just that. <br/>
<br/>
"I'll think about it," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"You do that," he says.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"And what's this going to cost me," you ask Justin the next day. He's sidled up to you at your locker, and is showing you a silvery band of metal in the palm of his hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing yet," he says. "I haven't used it yet. You can go with me after school, find the asshole who--"<br/>
<br/>
"Who is he?"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't know him. I don't think you do." He shrugs. "He's at Eastman, guy named Adam Karter. Has a band and even a few gigs. Of course, if you've changed you mind," he adds when you're silent, "I'll use it for some other project."</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112222
author_id: seuzz
title: Faces Where You Don't Expect Them
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You bid your fantasies farewell and shake your head. "I found out last night it was gonna cost me a lot more than, well, what you were gonna charge," you mutter to him. "Anyway, it was just a temporary enthusiasm, probably." You sigh silently and deeply. <i>It really would have been nice ...</i><br/>
<br/>
Justin for his part also looks a little disappointed in you. "Well, you're still coming out to Tsosie's after school," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Of course," you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Because you still gotta--"<br/>
<br/>
"I <i>know,</i>" you retort a little more loudly.<br/>
<br/>
"Just make sure you're happier about it when I see you out there," Justin says, and gives you a hooded glare before ducking back into the crowd.<br/>
<br/>
You turn back to your locker, and jump a little, for Caleb is suddenly right next to you. "Was that Justin Roth?" he asks in an incredulous tone. You nod. "What the fuck does that stoner want with--?" He blinks, then grins. "Was <i>he</i> the one stuffing your head with bullshit about nature and all that?"<br/>
<br/>
"He didn't stuff my head with anything."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, Will," Caleb says in a skeptical tone.<br/>
<br/>
"What does that mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"You're totally weak-minded, do whatever the last person to talk to you suggests."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Me and Keith are heading off-campus at lunch, to the comics shop," he shrugs. "You should go with us."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, okay." You stare as he breaks into a grin. "Oh, fuck you!" You shove a middle finger in his face. "I <i>don't</i> wanna see you guys at lunch!"<br/>
<br/>
"We didn't want you along either, which is why I mentioned it." He waggles his eyebrows mischievously. <br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Maybe him and Keith go off to get comics, and maybe they don't. You don't see them. You don't see anyone at lunch, for you pace around the school, trying to psyche yourself up for what's waiting for you after school. You're going to get laid. But it's going to be you as the girl, with one of those guys--Justin or Perry or Maize, if it's not all three of them--inside you. What a price to have to pay for-- Well, for what? You've already turned down one of the benefits to this mask business. Okay, technically, you got laid the other night, when Justin played Victoria's part. And you played Justin yesterday. But that's been other people pushing you into doing things. If you're going to be part of this group, you're going to have to lay claim to--<br/>
<br/>
You look up at the sound of running footsteps, just in time to see Dane Matthias come trotting around the corner to A wing, behind which you've been pacing in a solitary way. He breaks into a grin when he sees you, and grabs your shoulder as he runs up. But he doesn't stop, and instead ducks behind you. "Oh, fuck me, Will, you gotta hide me!" he gasps with a giggle.<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck are--" You turn at heavier footsteps, and choke with panic.<br/>
<br/>
It's Gordon Black.<br/>
<br/>
Black is the captain of the basketball team, and if he didn't throw himself a thousand percent into that job he could also be on the football team, for he is six and a half feet of massive, well-proportioned muscle. Bad-tempered muscle, too, and you're lucky that he never pays any attention to you, because those he does attend to can only weep about it afterward. But now here he is, charging toward you with a fire in his eyes.<br/>
<br/>
But his ire isn't directed at you. Good thing to, or you'd get worse: He throws you out of his way, sending you reeling with a bone-crushing jolt into the wall.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, fuck, Gordon, it was just a joke!" Dane wails as Black seizes him around the hips and lofts him into the air, slamming him against the wall.<br/>
<br/>
"I like you, Dane," Gordon says. "So I'm not going to break anything. Just tell me where it is."<br/>
<br/>
"My locker," Dane gasps. "I'll give it back after--"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll get it myself. If it's not there, Dane--" He slams Matthias against the wall again, then drops him.<br/>
<br/>
He turns, and catches you watching open-mouthed. His cheeks flush dark red, and you hurriedly look away. You even turn your back. But it's too late. Fortunately, he's still not much interested in you, so he only grabs you again the shoulder and hurls you a couple of yards away, to tumble onto the grass.<br/>
<br/>
He's gone by the time you're back up. Dane is slouched by the wall, laughing hard. "What was that about?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, Jesus, that was awesome," he says, and clutches his head. "Never woulda gotten away with it, but--" He laughs again.<br/>
<br/>
"Dane, are you high? What was Black--?"<br/>
<br/>
"I got his hat, Will!" He laughs again. "You know that hat of his? I got it off him. Hid it in my locker. I guess he musta heard me bragging about it, 'cos--"<br/>
<br/>
"How did you get it off him?" You can hardly believe your ears. It would take balls of steel to take Gordon Black's ball cap off his head, assuming you could even reach that high.<br/>
<br/>
"Last night. Me and Maize came up here last night, 'cos we had nothing else to do. I broke into that fuck palace of theirs, and guess who was up there?" His eyes glint merrily. "Gordon Fucking Black, sacked out cold. So I took his cap as a souvenir." He laughs again. "And I lived to tell about it."<br/>
<br/>
You can only shake your head in wonder. Yeah, Dane--sweet Dane, happy Dane, Dane who never means any harm--is the only guy who could ever have done that and gotten away with it.<br/>
<br/>
Matthias eventually masters himself, and brushes off his pajama bottoms as he gets to his feet. "Well, that was fun," he says. "Oh, and speaking of fun--" He slaps you in the chest with the back of his hand. "Justin says you're gonna be sucking us all off at Maize's after school."<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw drops. "Uh, what are you talking about, Dane?"<br/>
<br/>
"What are you talking about, Dane?" he mimics, and his tone is suddenly very nasty. "I'm talkin' about you suckin' off me and Justin and Maize, fucker. Like we told you you were gonna have to do."<br/>
<br/>
You stare. "Perry?" you finally ask in a small voice.<br/>
<br/>
"That's right," he says impatiently. "I came to school as Matthias today. Real one's back at Tsosie's right now. We'll get rid of him, of course, before we get started. Unless--" He leans in with a leer. "Unless you want 'Dane' to stick around for the party."<br/>
<br/>
You whiten and take a step back. "I'll see you later, man," you say, and turn to go. A very un-Dane-like laugh follows you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You lay back on the bed and blow the hair out of your face. Now you can see the ceiling better, even though you don't want to. It's a dirty ceiling, with cracks and bulging places. It's hot in Tsosie's bedroom, too. It's hot inside the flannel shirt and the flannel bottoms, and not hot in a good way. It's an itchy, sweaty heat. You squirm on the bed. <i>What is wrong with those guys? Why are they keeping a girl waiting?</i><br/>
<br/>
A girl.<br/>
<br/>
Yes, you are Victoria Rodriguez again. It was easier, this second time, for Justin had just led you into Maize's bedroom and handed you the mask. "Get in the pajamas," he'd also said. You'd laid back on the bed and not lingered before jamming the mask to your face. The wet, bleary, and confused mind of the imprisoned Victoria had come flooding in, but you'd fought it back and kept ahold of yourself. Now you're just annoyed. They're not going to find you in a horny mood if they keep delaying things.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Are you supposed to go out and find them?</i> You raise your head.<br/>
<br/>
Fuck 'em, they can come find you, you decide. You should get yourself in the mood. Except you don't know which one to get in the mood for. "Victoria" has been with each of them, of course, several times. Perry is thin and quick and gets it done with fast, without any small talk. Maize moves in fast as well, but then throttles back, and likes to cover Victoria with wet kisses all over before climaxing. Justin's like a steam locomotive, starting slow but powerfully, and gradually ramping up. Any of them would do, to relieve a horny-feeling girl. If you were feeling horny.<br/>
<br/>
The door opens and Justin comes in. He peels off his shirt and tosses it back through the open doorway, disclosing his smooth, strong torso. "What kept you?" you irritably ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Little debate about how we were gonna do this," he says. He pulls off the rest of his clothes and throws them back out before closing the door. He clambers onto the bed with a groan and pries your legs apart. "You ready for this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." You throw your arms loosely around his neck, but he holds aloof, concentrating on getting his cock into position. "I'm glad it's you, Justin," you say. "You're my favorite."<br/>
<br/>
"Really," he says skeptically. "Whose favorite? Victoria's or Prescott's?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't call me that, if you don't want to ruin the mood," you growl in a deeper voice than Victoria's before returning to her simper. "You're so good looking, Justin. If I'm going to cheat on Joey--"<br/>
<br/>
And there, suddenly, is the key to the volcano. <i>You're cheating on Joey, and getting away with it!</i> A fire roars all through you, and you clamp your legs around Justin and drag him down, biting hard at his neck. He  yelps.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck me, Justin! Oh, God, fuck me like Joey's never--!"<br/>
<br/>
The door opens, and over Justin's shoulder you see another Justin Roth. "So I'm taking off," the other one says.<br/>
<br/>
"Will you get out?!" the one on top of you cries. His double shrugs and closes the door.<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on?" you demand. "Who am I--?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's me," Justin says. "Perry's going home for me tonight."<br/>
<br/>
"Is he ever himself?" you ask. "He was Dane today--"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Dane.</i> Maybe you could go to school as Dane tomorrow.</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221
author_id: seuzz
title: Several Kinds of Fun
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"When do I get to pretend to be one of you guys," you whine.<br/>
<br/>
Justin peers at you. "You were pretending to be me yesterday," he exclaims. "All day at school. And it was <i>your</i> idea that we switch back."<br/>
<br/>
"It was <i>your</i> idea that we switch in the first place," you retort. "I want to--" You twist your hips under him and squeeze his cock. "If I'm going to do <i>this</i> for you-- You like it, don't you, Justin?" You raise your own head, chasing him, and snap at his lips with your teeth. "If I'm going to do this, then I want to get to say who I'm going to be, and when. Like you and Perry are always doing, apparently."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, fine," he says. "We'll talk about it when--"<br/>
<br/>
"Dane. I want to be Dane at school tomorrow."<br/>
<br/>
"Tomorrow's Saturday."<br/>
<br/>
"Alright, Monday then." <br/>
<br/>
You stare at each other. "Are you going to--" he starts.<br/>
<br/>
You wrap yourself more tightly about him. "Mm, where were we? Oh yeah." You throw your head back. "Fuck me, Justin! Fuck me like Joey's never fucked me before!"<br/>
<br/>
He sucks in his breath, and then he's ramming himself into you like a jackhammer.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
When he's done and recovered himself, he goes back into the living room and Tsosie comes in. Maize is a lot slower to get undressed, and he just sits on the edge of the bed, and shoots you slit-eyed, sidelong glances. "Tch," you finally cluck your tongue at him, and run a finger up his arm, the way Victoria does when Joey is feeling petulant. "What's wrong, Maize," you wheedle at him. "If you don't want to, we could just lay here together--"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up," he mutters. "This wasn't really my idea," he grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't you--?" you start to ask, and pause.<br/>
<br/>
You definitely felt the pressure to put on Victoria's mask and pleasure your new friends, even though technically you don't owe any of them anything, not yet. So Tsosie's reluctance gives you a definite "out." But you've gone along with the pressure because you figure it's best to build up some "credits." And you feel enough of Victoria's own personality to resent it when one of them decides you're not sexy enough to fuck.<br/>
<br/>
So you raise yourself up and kneel behind Maize and wrap your arms around him. He tenses, and tenses more when you plant thick, wet lips on the side of his neck. "What are you doing, you faggot?" he growls.<br/>
<br/>
"The other guys never give you <i>this,</i> do they, Shep?" you ask, and you nuzzle his cheek. "It's all just fucking, right? They never-- I'm just a pillow when they're inside me, pretending to be me. I'm a pillow, and you fuck me like I'm a pillow. But they don't let the real me, the real Victoria out." You tuck his long, black hair from his ear and gently blow into it. "The real girl, who just wants to ... to hold you and hug you. Because you're so sweet, Shep. I know you are. I'd just like to be with you, because you make me happy. In fact, you're the only one who--"<br/>
<br/>
He turns his head. "Who <i>are</i> you," he demands roughly, and you can hear a little fear in his voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not Victoria," you sigh gently. "But I'm being her for real. I don't think you or Justin or Perry really pay attention to her when you're pretending to be her. But there's a real girl inside here, and she really does have feelings for you. So if I can't make you happy by letting you fuck me, can I make you happy by letting the real girl tell you how she--?"<br/>
<br/>
You never finish. Tsosie turns with a sudden lunge and throws you back across the bed, and feverishly searches out your pussy with his cock. His breath is hard and fast and gulping. He comes quickly, and with the most violent spasms Victoria has felt from him yet.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Probably you shouldn't have given him that bullshit speech about how she's really so sweet on him. She isn't, that you can tell, but it was a variant on a whimpering, cooing little talk that she sometimes gives Joey when he's feeling morose.<br/>
<br/>
And probably you shouldn't be lounging in the living room now, wedged between Justin and Maize, giggling inanely and sucking on the end of some of your hair. But it's fun fucking with these guys, especially since you seem to be freaking them out a little. You're leaning back against Justin and smiling coquettishly at Maize, and from the way his eyes keep going up to Justin's face, you can tell they are silently talking about you and the way you seem to have really gotten into Victoria. "Ohmigod, why <i>don't</i> we hang out like this more often?" you laugh. "This is so much fun. Me and my two sweeties." You reach up to cradle Justin's cheek with your hand, but only succeed in jabbing him in the nose. "Why isn't Perry here? I thought he was all into the idea."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, he doesn't want to owe you, Prescott," Justin says stiffly. "And we don't hang out this way because we're none of us queer."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not either," you retort. "But like this, I can-- Mm." You stroke the inside of your big, bare thigh. "Yeah, that feels good." Tsosie sucks in a sharp breath.<br/>
<br/>
"If you want to have some fun by yourself, Prescott, me and Maize can run out and get something to eat."<br/>
<br/>
"No, I like being with you guys. It's like bonding. And don't forget," you add a little more sharply. "Each of you owes <i>me</i> a turn now."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, well, don't expect any of this creepy-ass flirting from me when it's my turn," Maize grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
You twist around to look up at Justin. He stares back with a hard look in his eyes. You return it with one of your own until he blinks. "Fuckin' mind games going on here," he says at last as he looks away.<br/>
<br/>
"Can we save the mind games for Perry?" you croon. "I want him to owe me too. So, how about tomorrow you tell him you'll get together with him as Victoria, but it'll be me instead?"<br/>
<br/>
"That ain't cool," Tsosie says.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I guess not," you sigh. "But I'd really like it if he started liking me. I mean, if we're all going to be friends--"<br/>
<br/>
"Get changed back, Prescott," Justin says, and pushes you up. "You probably need to get home anyway."<br/>
<br/>
You pretend to sulk a little, and shamble back into the bedroom, where you take off the mask and change back into your own clothes. You make a point of acting totally like yourself when you're back in the living room. "So, <i>are</i> getting together this weekend?" you ask. "Because I was totally serious about wanting to play Dane on Monday, and want to set it up."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, we'll set it up," Justin says, and though he's trying to be cool, you can tell he's still a little freaked out. "And I'll call you if, well--" He leaves it at that; and Maize's hostile glance tells you to get out while the mood is still relatively good.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You have a good laugh to yourself on the way home, though you do have to wonder if you overplayed your hand with the guys. Five to one Maize and Justin are back there arguing over whether you are too creepy to let continue in their little group. Well, that'll be another reason to pull off a day as Dane: to show that you're just into the role-playing.<br/>
<br/>
At least, you tell yourself that's what it was. In the bright light of the late afternoon sun you actually have a hard time recognizing yourself in the performance that you remember giving back at Maize's place. Did Victoria's personality somehow get ahold of you and beguile you into acting like that? You have to doubt it, for you also remember the girl in the mask hating the way she's being kept cooped up in the house and used for sexual pleasure. Dazedly, you have to conclude that it was some combination of yourself and Victoria that was having fun screwing with (and just screwing) them.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're still thinking about all this when you walk in through the side door to your house and into the kitchen, but it's all driven from your head when you see your mom and dad waiting for you. The table is set for dinner, and at first you think they must be pissed at you for being late. But the food isn't out yet, so it can't be for that reason that they seem to be waiting for you. "What?" you finally have to ask when no one says anything after an expectant silence.<br/>
<br/>
Your dad sucks on his teeth. "Are you still interested in buying that guitar?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Eesh.</i> If you tell him "yes," he'll force you to take that job. If you say "no," then you'll be exposed as someone who asked him for a thousand bucks on a whim. So you stammer out a compromise. "I'm still interested. But, you know, it's a lot of money."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm glad to hear you say that," he replies. His smile is warm, but you don't like it any better for the fact. "So I thought I could make it easier for you to decide.  Starting next week, you'll be taking piano lessons."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll <i>what?</i> But Dad, I want to learn the guitar!"<br/>
<br/>
"Music is music, and you'll start learning to read it and understand it with Mr. Kirnberger from the church. You'll find out if you're actually interested in <i>music</i> or just in <i>performing.</i>" Acid drips off the last word.<br/>
<br/>
You gasp like a landed fish before finally surrendering. "And how long is this going to last?" you mutter.<br/>
<br/>
"Six months, at least," he says. "We're going to give you a good long time to figure out if you're sincerely interested."<br/>
<br/>
You grumble in your throat all the way upstairs and throw yourself into your chair. Your eye falls on those spell copies. The idea of slipping into another life suddenly seems very appealing.</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111222211
author_id: seuzz
title: Enter the Dane
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You don't hear from Justin or Maize or Perry all weekend, which leaves you quite bored, since you put off seeing Caleb and Keith on the chance that you'll get a call. You resist making a call of your own, though. You're rather nervous, then, when you do finally hear from Justin early Sunday evening. He wants to know if you still want to take Dane's place at school on Monday. You say you are. "Then be over at Maize's early. Like, seven thirty."<br/>
<br/>
"Does Dane get up that early?"<br/>
<br/>
"He'll be spending tonight over there. You need to get there early so you can get his stuff <i>before</i> he wakes up. And you're going to be missing school, because no one's going to be replacing you. We've missed too much already."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay. So, what did you guys do this weekend?'<br/>
<br/>
"Nothin', really. Checked up on the new project at that school."<br/>
<br/>
"And you didn't stop by here to see me?" You can't keep the peevish whine out of your voice.<br/>
<br/>
"No offense, Prescott, but you kind of freaked us out Friday. I mean, everything's cool, but, you know."<br/>
<br/>
You grimace silently. "So, out at the school. What did the new spell make?"<br/>
<br/>
"We don't know yet. It's still cooking. Don't know how long it'll take."<br/>
<br/>
"Cooking?" you echo.<br/>
<br/>
"Getting made," he says evasively. "You don't have to worry about it. You left <i>me</i> in charge of it, remember?" Everything may be "cool," he says, but he still sounds irritated with you. "I'll just meet you over at Maize's tomorrow morning." He hangs up.<br/>
<br/>
You've already played a classmate at school, but that was a last-minute surprise Justin sprang on you. This is a plot, and it's a plot to replace someone who is <i>not</i> part of your little conspiracy. You feel nervous and excited all the way up to bedtime.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Okay, this one's a little tricky, like that mask of me," Justin says. He leans in at the window of Dane's car--you're already behind the wheel--but he doesn't hand the mask to you just yet. "You put it on, but I want to talk to <i>you</i>--Prescott, I mean--when you wake back up. Don't start playing the idiot until you get to school."<br/>
<br/>
You nod, and take the mask from his slightly reluctant grip. Some of Dane's clothes--extras they snagged from his house--are on the seat next to you. You glance at Dane's name on the inside of the mask, then close your eyes and smile tightly as you raise it to your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You waken slowly with a grunt, and clench your eyes. You're feeling very peaceful, and when you open your eyes you're struck by how fresh and golden the light seems. What a beautiful day!<br/>
<br/>
You look over to the side, and find Justin leaning in at the window, peering skeptically at you. His expression does nothing to dampen your mood, but you remember his warning. "Hey man, here I am," you gasp. "Oh, fuck me."<br/>
<br/>
"That was Victoria. You okay in there?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I'm here." You pluck at your shirt. "Nice day for being Dane, though."<br/>
<br/>
"It always is. Okay, try not to get in any trouble. Well, no more than he's already in. Get changed and get out of here. I'll see you at school." He gives you another skeptical glower before trudging back over to his own car.<br/>
<br/>
You duck down and quickly pull off your old clothes. Dane's a little bigger than you, which partially explains why your clothes now feel so tight. But they're also way smaller than the sloppy things he likes to wear. You pull on boxers and the loose flannel shorts--they're just so awesome and comfortable!--and slip your feet into the fuzzy bedroom slippers. Then the t-shirt and the old sports coat that Justin had brought out of Maize's house. You pat one of the pockets: there's the stash for today. You grin as you start up the car. Who will you share it with?<br/>
<br/>
You turn on the radio and bop along to some old rock songs, trying to keep sober so you won't have an accident on the drive out to school. A faint haze permeates your mind, taking the edge off the scenery and your reflexes both. As you pass Schuyler Middle School you flash a peace sign at some of the kids in the crosswalk, but they don't respond.<br/>
<br/>
You're relaxed but still feeling like yourself as you pull into the parking lot. But as you get out of the car and swing your pack onto your shoulder, you take a step back: physically, from the car, and mentally, into the warm bath of Dane's personality. <i>Ah, it's gonna be a great day!</i><br/>
<br/>
"Yo, Steve!" you call out to Patterson, who's loping along in front of you toward the gym. You grin as he turns, and flash some horns at him. "You guys left a real mess at my locker yesterday!"<br/>
<br/>
"That was Gordon," he yells back, and his eyes are flinty. "You deserved it."<br/>
<br/>
"I gotta thank him for it! Seriously!" After busting the lock off Dane's locker, Gordon had emptied all its contents onto the floor; it had taken the Danester--Perry, actually--almost a quarter hour to get it all back inside. "I found an old lunch in there, been stinking it up forevers, man, but I couldn't, you know, find it because--" You grin dopily as you draw up close. "Oh, and there was like this term paper that I forgot to turn in a couple of weeks ago, and--" You slap the side of your head.<br/>
<br/>
"Any time, Matthias," Patterson says gruffly. "You just stay out of our shit."<br/>
<br/>
"Aw, come on, man." He tenses as you take his arm in yours. "How much fun do you guys have up there? Enough to share?"<br/>
<br/>
He pulls away and gives you a shove--not so much to be unfriendly but enough to put some space between you. "Shouldn't you be out at the portables?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh, shit, man, that's right!" You wheel to gaze open-mouthed toward Dane's usual haunt. "I got some--" You gently poke Steve in the ribs. "Any time you guys get tired of beers, I got some stuff that'll--"<br/>
<br/>
"Just keep it for your friends."<br/>
<br/>
"That's how come I'm offering!"<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a crooked smile and turns back toward the gym.<br/>
<br/>
You giggle and clutch your head when he's gone. <i>You've just talked man to man with Steve Patterson, one of the top jocks and bullies, without any fear, and are going to live to tell about it.</i><br/>
<br/>
But that's the way of the Dane: Even if he pisses people off, they just can't dent him. So is there anyone else you might goof on who you'd normally--?<br/>
<br/>
Your knees buckle as you laugh to yourself.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Lester "The Molester" Pozniak huffs sharply--one, two, three times--and lets his head fall back with a dull thud against the wall of the portable. He draws his knees up to his chest and clasps his arms around them. The joint burns between his fingers. "Damn it, Dane, you been holding out on me."<br/>
<br/>
"I ain't been holdin' back shit," you protest. "I just, like--" You jog your temple with the heel of your hand. "Sometimes I forget what I got hid. You know?"<br/>
<br/>
"I ain't gonna let you forget about this stuff again," Lester mutters, and closes his eyes. "An' now that I know where you're hiding it--"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah?" you ask, playing dumb.<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft, I wouldn't do that to you. You share this with anyone else?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh sure, lots of people. Well, some. Aw, fuck me, I don't remember." You giggle.<br/>
<br/>
It's some really good stuff that Dane has hidden away--in one of many secret spots, but this stuff was in a dirty satchel buried behind a board outside one of the portables. It's some of the really premium shit, and the Molester hadn't argued when you'd slipped up next to him just before second period and invited him out for a session. You're contenting yourself with something from your own jacket pocket, but are mostly just putting it your lips without inhaling, for you don't want to lose yourself. And being Dane relaxes you enough that you're very calm as you sag next to Lester and let your head fall onto his shoulder. He doesn't even flinch. "You owe me," you say. "How about a bee-jay?"<br/>
<br/>
He grunts. "You're cute, but your legs are too hairy."<br/>
<br/>
Indeed they are: Dane is one of the hairiest guys in school. Funny that the Molester would have mentioned legs, though. You'd have pegged him as a breast man. But you like a girl's legs, too, especially when--<br/>
<br/>
You sit bolt upright. "Oh, man, did you see what Amanda was wearing today?"<br/>
<br/>
"Amanda Ferguson?"<br/>
<br/>
"There's <i>another</i> Amanda at our school?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
Lester chucks you on the side of the head. "What was she wearing?"<br/>
<br/>
"You didn't <i>see?</i> It's this leather skirt--<i>black leather,</i> fuck me stupid--and it only comes down to here!" You draw your hand high across your thigh. "I was lookin' at her and--" You grind your knuckle deep into an eyeball. "Well, you could hang your hat on the chubby she gave me!"<br/>
<br/>
"So I see," he growls. "I'll have to keep an eye out."<br/>
<br/>
"Keep an-- You should ask <i>her</i> out, man! I heard her talkin' about you, and I think she's got a <i>thang</i> for you!" You scrunch your face up and shred the air with some hooked horns. "A <i>thang!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
He gives you a skeptical look. "Don't shit me, Matthias."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not shitting you! I <i>think</i> she was talking about you. Oh come on, she has to have been. Good lookin' guy like you."<br/>
<br/>
Not bloody likely. The Molester is big, and not in a handsome way, and he's pimply and unshaven and his face is locked in a permanent glower. But the thought of the Molester--who has tormented you constantly for most of your high school life--making a fool of himself with Amanda Ferguson is a prospect too delicious not to push.</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112222112
author_id: seuzz
title: Dane and the Girls
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You tease Lester a little more, but he turns stiff and gruff, and you decide to give up before he can get really irritable. He remains silent even as you change the subject, and stays mostly silent, leaving you to burble. When the bell rings he gets up with a heavy sigh, and says he'll see you later. You ponder his retreating back, wondering if you've actually succeeded in planting that seed of mischief, but decide against following him to see what he does.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, you wander back into the school and slide along the hallways, bumping into and calling "Hey" to people you know and people you don't. Your peregrination takes you past your own locker, where you spot Caleb. On a whim, you slide up next to him. "Hey, Johansson! You seen your buddy around?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think he's hiding from Javits."<br/>
<br/>
"Nah, I mean the other one. Will," you add, and hide your irritation that "your buddy" for Caleb apparently means Keith Tilley.<br/>
<br/>
"He's absent."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I noticed." You suck on your lip and blink.<br/>
<br/>
Caleb cocks a skeptical eyebrow. "You looking for him?"<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. "I just noticed, man. I notice things."<br/>
<br/>
"You notice you're not wearing any pants?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'm what?" You look down, but you've still got those shorts on. "Funny, man. But what are you doin' with yourself without your buddy?"<br/>
<br/>
"Staying sane. What's this all about, Matthias?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, nothin'." Your mouth drops open at the sight of Chelsea Cooper moving past, and you follow her openly with your eyes and head and whole body. "There any good-lookin' girls in your next class?"<br/>
<br/>
"They're all over."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't gotta tell me." You sway on your feet, and bump into a passing student. "I should--" You shake your head violently. "What was I talkin' about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Something about Dante's <i>Inferno.</i> You were saying you had a really neat interpretation about what's going on in the third canto."<br/>
<br/>
"I was? Oh, man, I gotta start writing this stuff down." You shake your head again, more slowly, and plunge back into the crowd.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Third period biology is when you meet up with Justin again. Dane's got a lot of friends in there, anyway: Adrian Semple, Tim Gerard, Keith Hennepin. You slap at a few shoulders as you pass them into the back, where Justin is, and sprawl in the desk in front of him. That's normally where Maize sits, but he's not here today, you know, so--<br/>
<br/>
You feel Justin's stony gaze on you, but you ignore him for the moment, for you've found something more interesting: Victoria Rodriguez. The real one, of course, on the other side of the room, where she's primping and chatting with her girlfriends. You stare at her in open-mouthed rapture for a full moment, even though she's not Dane's type, nor yours either, particularly. She's very big, for a start, but after last week she's an object of fascination to you. How weird it is to think that this girl is going blithely about her life, completely unaware that a counterfeit of her is popping in and out of existence someplace else long enough to sexually service guys who-- You wonder if Victoria has ever even noticed Justin and Maize and Perry. You doubt it. She seems to have a very bossy and queeny attitude. Something in her manner reminds you of the bossy and shrewish Kelsey Blankenship; they're both girls who like running things, and like having a well-ordered niche they can lord it over. <br/>
<br/>
And thinking of Kelsey naturally reminds you of Amanda, and-- <i>Oh my God!</i> You sit up stiffly in your chair, for you're suddenly stiff all over. Blood rushes to and from your head, and you gasp. You're going to have to go bother Amanda today. You just gotta. Life as Dane isn't worth living unless you can--<br/>
<br/>
You wheel in your seat and put your head down onto Justin's desk. You sigh deeply. "You got a problem there, Dane?" he asks gruffly.<br/>
<br/>
You groan, and bang the desk lightly with your fist. "Oh, fuck me. Seriously, fuck me in the face. I gotta, like-- <i>Girls!</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," he drawls. "We all gotta like girls. Darwin says so."<br/>
<br/>
"No, I mean--" You raise your head sharply and wheel around again. "Where's your main man Maize, man? I ain't seen him in, like--"<br/>
<br/>
"He's back at his place. Skipping." There's a heavy tone in Justin's voice.<br/>
<br/>
"We should go hang out with him after school, you know?" You turn back to Justin and waggle your tongue. "You know?" He flinches back as you crawl up into your knees and lean in at him. "Get a girl," you whisper. "You know, like a new girl. Like, I know <i>exactly</i> who--"<br/>
<br/>
"Hsh!"<br/>
<br/>
You sag in your seat, so much so that you slide out and onto the floor, to the snickers of those nearby. You scramble back into the desk, and look over in time to see Victoria giving you a contemptuous glance. The Danester really wants to get laid, but not with-- And if you could talk Justin into scoring a copy of-- Is it really only Dane who is hot for Amanda? She terrifies Will Prescott, but has being Dane relaxed you, so that these are your real feelings of lust boiling out? Or are you just being overwhelmed by--<br/>
<br/>
Justin claps you firmly on the shoulder, pinning you in your seat as Mr. Carr advances to the front of the class.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You follow Justin out the door when class ends. "You know, if you guys need me to kick in some cash for more supplies, I can totally provide," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Keep your voice down," he mutters. "And keep your shirt on. Stop acting like a spazz."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm totally being myself here," you reply through gritted teeth, and return his snort with a dirty look. "But if you and Perry just wanna keep doing it with the one you got--"<br/>
<br/>
"We still got a blank," he says. "I got it with me, in fact."<br/>
<br/>
"Really? Who are you--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up. I haven't decided yet. I'm keeping my options open at the moment. I don't want to waste it."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I told you that I can--"<br/>
<br/>
"I heard you, and I might hit you up. But let's do it one at a time, okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll make notes too," you say. "Because if I'm contributing I want--" He gives you a look, but you're not to be deterred. "I want some say in it."<br/>
<br/>
"We'll talk. Now split. Go scout out possibilities on your own."<br/>
<br/>
You don't know why he's being so curt with you, but you can think of lots nicer company to spend lunch with.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Nicer company" turns out to be some of the girl athletes: Catherine Muskov, Bonny Trask, Bethany Lewis, Olivia Byrne. Michael Allen and Eli Anders, who are dating Catherine and Bonny, are there too, but they are mostly quiet and leave the girls to chatter as you all squat out in front of the school. Olivia is checking out her makeup, using the camera in her phone as a mirror, and touching herself up. "Does that stuff actually feel good?" you dazedly ask.<br/>
<br/>
She looks over with a twinkle in her eye. "You wanna try it out, Dane?" You gasp as she leans over and dabs at your cheek with the makeup pad. <br/>
<br/>
"Oh, that's cute," Michael laughs softly. "You're making him turn red."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, that feels nice," you say. She tries handing it to you. "I mean it feels nice when <i>you're</i> putting it on me!"<br/>
<br/>
"You could come over to my house, and I could give you a makeover," Olivia says. "I used to do it to my little brother, but he's gotten too big."<br/>
<br/>
"When?" you excitedly ask, but she just shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
"Have any of you guys seen Rachel around?" a voice says behind you. You turn and do a massive double-take. It's Andrea Varnsworth who has just materialized behind you.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea is one of the most stunning girls in the school. Tall, lithe, strong, with a huge rack, a tight tummy, and legs that epic poetry could be written about. Her expression, as ever, is slightly hooded, and at the moment lightly disfigured by a querulous look.<br/>
<br/>
The blood is hammering in your ears, so you barely hear it when Bethany replies: "I think she's with Kelsey and them inside the cafeteria." Andrea turns back toward the school building and shades her eyes. "She's not in trouble, is she?" Bethany adds.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea turns long enough to flash a look of irritation. "Why should she be in trouble?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, Andrea," Bethany meekly replies. "Just the way you're--"<br/>
<br/>
"I just need to talk to her about something." Andrea gives them another glance. "Nathan too." She starts back toward the main building.<br/>
<br/>
Bonny says something under her breath, but you scramble to your feet and chase after Andrea. "Hey Drea," you gasp out as you catch up to her. "I need to see Amanda about something, so if you're goin' in there, I'll go with you, if you don't mind."<br/>
<br/>
She shoots you an amused look but doesn't break stride. "Do I ever mind your company, Dane?"<br/>
<br/>
"Aw, you tell me I'm cute, but you never--" Even Dane wouldn't be able to finish that sentence. Even though he hangs out at her house quite often, your heart hammers in your chest at being next to her.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, come out this afternoon, and I'll tell you again."<br/>
<br/>
"Tell me what?"<br/>
<br/>
"That you're cute and I'm busy and that you should go."<br/>
<br/>
You laugh: It's true, she's always telling Dane to leave, but she never throws him out. "That'd be cool. I like it when--"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you need to see Amanda about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Who said I need to see Amanda?"<br/>
<br/>
"I think I heard someone say it."<br/>
<br/>
You stop, and she stops with you. "Fuck," you frown. "I wonder what about? Well," you shrug. "I like seein' Amanda too."<br/>
<br/>
You're torn. You are <i>desperate</i> to get a mask of one of them made. But Justin only has one mask, and you're not sure which (if either) girl he would go for.</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221121
author_id: rugal
title: The Deal
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Hey so like I was thinking--" you say to Justin, however you stop. You had found him after the last period of the day, fumbling through his locker and at the moment he still seems more occupied with it than you. "Hey, man, you listening?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, yeah. Paying attention. Sure." he replies flippantly.<br/>
<br/>
You grab his arm, "C'mon, we gotta go somewhere private for this." you say with a whine more characteristic of Will Prescott than Dane Matthias.<br/>
<br/>
Justin, for his part, just grunts and rips his arm out of your grip, finishing up what he was doing with his locker. He then slams it shut, locks it and looks over at you. "So what the fuck Dane?" he says, making sure to emphasize the name of your assumed guise, "What's so desperate that you're trying to rip my arm out of the socket like that?"<br/>
<br/>
You flush a little; you doubt you could rip his arm out of the socket no matter how much you tried. Still, you try to slip back into Dane's persona. "It's about the, like, you know..." you say, looking around and trying not to arouse suspicion. You instead make a motion of putting on and removing something from your face.<br/>
<br/>
"The what? You want to eat some girl's pussy? What the fuck are you even on about?"<br/>
<br/>
"Do I want to...? No!" you protest, "Well, yeah... but..." you sigh, look around and then lean in and whisper sharply, "The masks, man! I got an idea."<br/>
<br/>
Justin's eyes narrow and then he harshly drags you into the space underneath a set of nearby stairs. "Alright, so you got an idea. That's nice and all but--"<br/>
<br/>
"Amanda Ferguson!" you exclaim.<br/>
<br/>
"Amanda...?" Justin asks, "That who <i>you</i> want or is that who Dane wants? Because I've been in his head and know the type of thing he's got for her. For most girls really but her especially."<br/>
<br/>
"It's who..." you pause, is that who you really want or is Dane's mind influencing you to such a degree that it's becoming hard to distinguish? Either way, Amanda's hot so it's not like you'd complain at all, especially when you picture her in that skirt you mentioned to the Molester earlier. "Yeah, I'd be down one hundred percent with Amanda. How about you?"<br/>
<br/>
Justin strokes his chin thinking. "To be honest, she's hot and all but not really my type. Perry, I dunno. And... Maize... well, you know." He sees you sink a bit at that and claps you on the shoulder. "Look, though. You want Amanda, we can get Amanda but you're gonna have to do something for me first."<br/>
<br/>
"Do something for... but I thought I've been, like, helping you out already!" you exclaim in frustration.<br/>
<br/>
"Sure, but not enough. Not yet. You've really thrown things out of whack with our group so do this and we'll call it a little closer to even."<br/>
<br/>
You grumble but then let Dane's easygoing personality fall over you once more. "Yeah, sure, definitely!" you exclaim happily, "Sounds fair enough so, like, what do you need from me, man?"<br/>
<br/>
"That mask we've got... take it and use it on Kelsey Blankenship." he states plainly.<br/>
<br/>
"Kelsey?! But you said--"<br/>
<br/>
"I know what I said." he states calmly, crossing his arms, "But let me lay it out for you: first, we can make more masks. Second, Kelsey's best friends with Amanda, much as that term exists with either of them, so you'll have an easier time grabbing Amanda as Kelsey if you're careful. Third..." you see a grin spread on his face, "Third, Kelsey's hot as fuck."<br/>
<br/>
You get a confused look on your face, "Like she's easy on the eyes but she'd look a whole lot better if she didn't look so snobby."<br/>
<br/>
Justin continues to grin. "Yeah, she's a bitch right? Haughty and domineering? That's sexy. Because you know that underneath that ice queen demeanor she's a total freak, or that if you break it down she'll probably be meek and subservient. And even if she's not... well, there's something sexy about a girl who knows how to take control and place herself on a pedestal. The fact she's so unobtainable makes her that much more desirable."<br/>
<br/>
You think about that for a moment and then laugh a bit. Justin cocks an eyebrow and you shake your head, "No it's just... Caleb's said the same thing to me in the past." you explain, "I don't get it, I find her kind of scary to be honest, but..." you sigh, "If I have to get her to get Amanda then I'll do it."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's not until Wednesday that you're able to, under Justin's mask, corner Kelsey in the library. You see her sitting, alone, poring through a book and some notes. You stride over to her with a smile, "Well well well, studying hard are we?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck off, Justin." she replies sharply, not even lifting her eyes from her book.<br/>
<br/>
You take a seat next to her, she has nowhere to go as she's off in a quiet corner, and continue smiling. "You don't need to be so mean, you know." you say in a jovial manner, "Especially not to people who are here to help."<br/>
<br/>
"If you want to help, you'd leave me alone." she shoots back.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh I didn't mean helping you study, though if you want we could do a little biology studying." you say.<br/>
<br/>
You see Kelsey continue to make a face while still not looking at you. "I'd go dyke before I ever thought about doing anything with you, Roth." she says in a sickened tone, "You're so dirty and grimy. It's disgusting. Go find that slut Sienna or something. Trash deserves trash."<br/>
<br/>
"Really, that's what I want to help you with. To stop you from being so uptight, so snobby. You've never seen a good romantic comedy where opposites attract?" you ask as you move behind her. You place your hand on her shoulders. She squirms but you begin massaging them, "See, he does a little something to help ease the tension."<br/>
<br/>
Eventually, against her better judgment, she seems to relent, her body slackens and her head seems to lull back as her eyes close. Perfect, you reach down into your bag with one hand and grab the mask and quickly, though gently, place it on her face. As she goes out you continue to keep up the charade, massaging her shoulders some more and saying a few words as well as noting the fact she smells nice. The mask eventually reappears and you grab it and place it into your bag.<br/>
<br/>
"Wha..." she groans as she comes to.<br/>
<br/>
"Guess I've got some magic fingers." you grin as you wiggle them.<br/>
<br/>
Kelsey regains her senses, and her usual demeanor. "Get the fuck away from me, Roth. Because I'm sure school officials and cops would like to learn about you touching me <i>without</i> my permission if you don't."<br/>
<br/>
You eye her but take the hint, grab your stuff, and leave.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's Thursday evening when Justin calls you, you had passed everything back to Maize and are now back to yourself, and tells you to come out to the old elementary school. Your parents aren't happy about your going out but you tell them you'll be back before curfew. You make your way there and are shocked to see Kelsey, naked as the day she was born, sitting contentedly in Justin's lap.<br/>
<br/>
"What the fuck?!" you exclaim in astonishment.<br/>
<br/>
"I've got a way with the ladies, Prescott. Lemme show you how." Justin replies and with that he places his hands on Kelsey's face, removing it... it was the mask you gave him of course. In place of Kelsey is a humanoid-shaped lump of dirt or clay or stone or something.<br/>
<br/>
"What's this?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"The spell we finished." Justin states with a wide smile. "Makes this thing, a golem I guess you'd call it, that obeys your commands."<br/>
<br/>
You let out a whistle, "Something like that would be useful."<br/>
<br/>
Justin nods, "Yeah. Thing is, though, it only obeys my commands. Perry was out here earlier and it wouldn't listen to him. We're thinking it's because we used my hair in making it. Use someone's hair in its creation, that's who it'll obey."<br/>
<br/>
"So it'll require more dirt if we want to make more for the rest of us..." you say despondently.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah but think of it like this, I can just order it to dig the dirt up. Less work for us."<br/>
<br/>
You nod, "That's pretty cool, then, but is that it?"<br/>
<br/>
Justin shakes his head. "Nah, not totally. You want Amanda, right? Then you're gonna use Kelsey's mask."<br/>
<br/>
"And how are we going to do that without the original finding out?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Justin's grin reaches Cheshire proportions, "Oh she's gonna know. That's gonna be the fun." He notices your confused expression. "She needs to be brought down a peg. So we take your mask and throw it on her, you step in for Kelsey. We should have a mask by tomorrow morning so you use that to grab Amanda."<br/>
<br/>
"My m--You're going to put Kelsey fucking Blankenship in <i>my</i> life?!" you practically shriek. "She'll ruin it!"<br/>
<br/>
"Not if she wants <i>her</i> life back." Justin states. "We'll tell her straight up: she spends Friday, the weekend and maybe Monday as Will Prescott, she goes back and everything's hunky dory. She doesn't, she better get used to being Prescott because she's not going back. If she says anything to anyone, she's getting Prescott's life and never getting out."<br/>
<br/>
"Why my life?" you say with a slight whine.<br/>
<br/>
"Because like I said, you're still making it up to me." he replies.<br/>
<br/>
You look down for a moment before looking back up at Justin. "And what if I don't want to be Kelsey?"<br/>
<br/>
Justin smiles and claps you on the shoulder, "Then I'll step in for Kelsey and you'll step in for me. Thing is, though, if you want Amanda you better do it because if I step in I'm taking whoever I want. There's a lot of nice girls in the AP set: Rachel Burton, Deanna Showalter, Kim Walsh, Lisa Yarborough..."<br/>
<br/>
He lets Lisa's name hang knowing it'll get to you. You're really not sure if this is a good idea but Justin hasn't steered you wrong yet. And would you risk him potentially grabbing Lisa as a fuck toy?</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221122
author_id: seuzz
title: An Afternoon with Andrea
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>In a brief moment of clarity, you realize that you're not likely to convince Justin of anything unless you have a clear path to an acquisition, and Andrea is the only one you can likely get; after all, she's just invited you out to her house this afternoon.<br/>
<br/>
And since you're so excited, you abandon Andrea right there and then, to scamper off to find Justin.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
As it happens, it's not until right after last period that you manage to track him down at his locker. You grab him by the elbow to drag him off for a private talk; it's like grabbing a lamppost, and you almost rip your own arm out of your socket as you slide off and he remains immobile. You grab at him again with a desperate grimace and jerk your head for him to follow, but he remains obdurate. "The fuck do you want, Dane," he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"I wanna <i>talk</i> to you!"<br/>
<br/>
"Shouldn't you be in detention?"<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh, old walrus-butt can start without me. I gotta--!"<br/>
<br/>
He shakes loose from you and frowns. So you sidle up close. "Andrea Varnsworth," you whisper excitedly in his ear. "How about her?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, how about--?" He shifts his head slightly. "You mean for--"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah! Can you think of anyone better?"<br/>
<br/>
He shrugs, but you can see the gleam in his eye. "Not bad," he allows. "But--" He blinks again and gives you a sharp glance. "Oh, were you planning on crashing in on her this afternoon?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't gotta! She asked me out there!" You jump up and down in place. "Come on, gimme the thing-a-whatchit--!"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up." He grabs you and pulls you off into a corner, where he draws up close and puts a finger in your face. "Dane Matthias can show up there, but it doesn't have to be--" He drops his voice to a whisper so low he practically mouths the name. "Will Prescott--" He raises his voice back to a normal pitch. "Who's actually there."<br/>
<br/>
Your jaw drops. "You mean you'd--! Oh, man, but I wanna--"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up," he says again. "If we do this, I don't want any fuck ups. You got detention anyway. I'd take over that for you."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, I don't mind-- An' I wanna go out to--" You bite your lip. "Come on, you can show up too, if you're worried that I'd--" You make a face.<br/>
<br/>
He glowers a little. "Fine. Just make sure that she knows I'll be showing up."<br/>
<br/>
You nod your head fervently, and he releases you. And since he's reminded you, you make your way over to Walberg's classroom.<br/>
<br/>
The teacher looks up at you with a trace of surprise on his stony face. "You're early, Mr. Matthias," he says. "You got something to work on?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure do!" you enthusiastically reply, and drop into a desk and bury your head in your arms. Huddled up that way, you doubt he'll be able to see the erection that threatens to burst out of your shorts.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Even though you drove--not ran--to Andrea's, you feel out of breath as you pound up the front walk. She lives in a poky little house, alone with her mother, in one of the worse parts of town, and you know what you'll find inside: a living space decorated in a Spartan but bohemian style. No one answers when you rap at the door, and after a few moments you test the knob. It opens.<br/>
<br/>
"Yo! Hey!" you call, but there's no reply. You hunt through the house but find no one until you glance out the back door. The house is small, but the plot is big enough to support a yard of modest size and a fairly large garden. Andrea is kneeling in it, poking around the dirt. "Hey!" you call again as you step out.<br/>
<br/>
She turns and shades her eyes, and smiles when she sees you. "I thought you'd forgotten."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I had stuff to do at school. Whatcha doin'? Need help?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, Dane. Would you know a weed if you saw it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." You reach for your pocket, but stop at her frown. "Oh, you mean-- Uh, kind of. My mom used to have a thing like you got here--"<br/>
<br/>
"A garden?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah! But she never really let me--"<br/>
<br/>
"Then you can keep me company. Just keep your hands to yourself."<br/>
<br/>
You suck in sharply as she bends over again, giving you a lovely eyeful of a lovely set of buttocks, and wonder if she wants you to keep your hands off the plants or off of her. Probably both.<br/>
<br/>
So you just talk to her a lot. It's easy, for even though Dane never has much to say, he is very good at saying it. She smiles and even laughs a few times as you woefully get names and gossip mixed up with each other. After a little bit you feel brave enough to take off your slippers and let your bare feet sink into the dirt, following her as she moves toward the back fence, plucking and pruning. You ask about the plants and what they're good for. Eating, mostly, it turns out.<br/>
<br/>
Thirty or so minutes later, you both turn at another call from the back door: It's Justin, standing where you had found Andrea. "Oh yeah," you say. "Justin said something about--" You trail off, for you're struck by the very intense way she's staring at him.<br/>
<br/>
He trudges out to meet you, taking off his own shoes and socks without invitation or permission, to join you in the dirt. "No one answered the door," he says, and smiles faintly at Andrea. "I was looking for Dane, and he said something about--"<br/>
<br/>
"I was out here, and my mother's at work. She'll be there until midnight, at least."<br/>
<br/>
You stumble back, trampling on a vine as you go. "Whoa, that's gotta be a harsh job."<br/>
<br/>
"She's a waitress and manager at-- You know all this, Dane."<br/>
<br/>
"I do? Uh, sure."<br/>
<br/>
Though she's been talking to you, she is still staring at Justin. "You wanna stay for dinner? I was planning on ... going Greek."<br/>
<br/>
His lips twitch and curl up slightly. "That'd be awesome. You need any help out here?"<br/>
<br/>
Andrea nods with a faint smile of her own, and he crouches down next to her. He doesn't seem to need any instructions.<br/>
<br/>
This all leaves you gaping and a bit of a loss for words. You try restarting the earlier conversation--though you can barely remember what it was about--but Andrea quickly silences you. "How about you go chill out in the house, Dane?" she says. "Pick out some music for us all to listen to."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, sure, that'd be cool," you say with more enthusiasm than you actually feel. "I can pick out some great stuff, and I got some thing out in my car--" But they don't seem to be listening to you.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Inside, you carefully sort through her collection of CDs. They're all quite old, and you wonder if they are actually her Mom's, and after putting something on you drop onto the futon that's the only real sitting place in the bare living room. You slide farther and farther down it as you wait, and wind up on your side. <br/>
<br/>
After a little while you hear the back door opening and closing, and hear the other two laughing as they come in. You wait for them, but they remain closeted in the back. A minute later comes the sound of water running in the sink, and you duck back into the kitchen to find Andrea washing off some vegetables.<br/>
<br/>
You hop onto the counter and take control of the conversation again with your own banter, but they don't seem to pay attention to you. Justin helps her out by taking stuff from the refrigerator and cupboards, and slices up zucchinis and onions and tomatoes and herbs; Andrea tosses them all in a big bowl with some feta cheese and olive oil and a few other dressings before scooping out three bowls for everyone. You eat in the living room, squatting on the floor. It's all very zesty and tasty.<br/>
<br/>
There's no washing up immediately afterward. When the talk falls into a lull you leap up and switch the music to something sprightlier and pull Andrea to her feet for a little dancing. She is slim and lithe and sexy, and soon you're reduced to hopping in place because you're so busy eyeballing her. Maybe she notices and maybe she doesn't, for after a few minutes she pulls Justin to his feet and, holding his hands, goads him into dancing with her. He's much stiffer and heavier on his feet, and turns very red. When the song is over he collapses back on the futon, and she falls onto it next to him. <br/>
<br/>
After a minute of silence, during which a softer song starts to play, she lays her head back with a slight sigh. "I should call Charles."<br/>
<br/>
"How come," Justin quietly asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Tell him not to come out. He's always dropping in uninvited." For half a second you expect her to look over at you, but she doesn't. "Oh, but if I did that he <i>would</i> come over. He's nasty that way."<br/>
<br/>
Justin grunts, and leans forward to rest his elbows on knees. He lowers his head, and from under his brows gives you a sharp look. You just stare back.<br/>
<br/>
The silence continues, and then after a few minutes Andrea gets up and takes her bowl back into the kitchen. Justin takes his own; you scramble after with your own. But at the entrance to the hallway he turns around and forces you back into the living room. "Get out of here," he says quietly. "You need to get things back to Maize's anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, sure. But we're supposed to, you know--" You wave your hand in front of your face.<br/>
<br/>
"And I will," he says in a hoarse whisper. "After."<br/>
<br/>
"After what?"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes harden.<br/>
<br/>
The penny drops. <i>Oh my God, they're going to have sex!</i></span></div></div>


path: 1133112111222211222
author_id: seuzz
title: Awkward Sequels
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You feel your face twisting up. Dane is easy-going and not the kind to cramp any of his friends. But this is the first time that anyone of your acquaintance has tried shoving you out of the way because--<br/>
<br/>
A shudder of jealousy, resentment, and anticipation runs through you. <i>They're going to have sex! In the bedroom, only a few feet away! Like, really soon!</i><br/>
<br/>
And you're not invited. In fact, Justin is trying to get rid of you.<br/>
<br/>
Well, why can't you stay? Andrea says that Dane is cute, and lots of girls flirt with him. Why, you'd bet almost anything that she'd be willing to--<br/>
<br/>
Your heart somersaults in your chest at the prospect of a three-way.<br/>
<br/>
So you set your jaw and give a little shake of the head. "Mask first, man. After that, we can have as much fun as--"<br/>
<br/>
A hard light comes into his eyes. "It's not the same. And I'll get it while I'm here."<br/>
<br/>
But you narrow your own eyes. It surprises you, this way you're standing up to him. It must be the other side of Dane's mellowness. He just doesn't give a shit, even when people are trying to make him do things. "Let's see what she says. Maybe she'll want <i>me</i> to stick around too."<br/>
<br/>
Justin snorts.<br/>
<br/>
And you turn around, searching for-- There it is. His bag. You stalk over to it and rip it open. There, inside, is the mask.<br/>
<br/>
You turn at the sound of footsteps, and swing your arm up to block him as Justin grabs at you. He snarls as he forces you back a few steps, but you keep a firm hold of the mask. <br/>
<br/>
You're still grappling this way when you catch sight of Andrea in the doorway behind. You freeze; Justin freezes too, and turns around. Andrea is frowning in puzzlement.<br/>
<br/>
You're past the point of caring whether he gets laid. "Let's just do it."<br/>
<br/>
He bares his teeth and steps back from you.<br/>
<br/>
"Something wrong in here?" Andrea coolly asks.<br/>
<br/>
Justin hunches his shoulders and trudges over to her. She doesn't draw back as he touches her at the elbows, and steps behind her. She looks back over her shoulder at him. He catches your eye, and you step forward, the mask at the ready. She barely has time to turn back toward you before you have it onto her face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Justin is brutally silent while you wait for the mask to come out of Andrea, and when it does he thrusts it at you. "Take this to Maize's, get out of that stuff, and go home. And don't talk to me. Not till I'm ready to talk to you." You shrug and do as he asks.<br/>
<br/>
Tsosie is looking a little haggard when you find him, and with a firm hand keeps you from coming inside, and just takes the masks and Dane's clothes from you. "About fucking time," he fumes. "I'm getting real tired of babysitting this cretin."<br/>
<br/>
"What'd you guys do?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing, and I'm about to go crazy."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you can get rid of him now. Oh, and this one?" You tap the mask on top. "That's Andrea Varnsworth." You waggle your eyebrows.<br/>
<br/>
He just makes a face. "Whatever." He pushes you out and closes the door.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
That was Monday. You avoid your new friends on Tuesday, though you note that Justin, Perry, Maize, and Dane are all in attendance, so unless any of those guys are under each other's masks, they're all back to being themselves.<br/>
<br/>
Unfortunately, the rest of your school life is back to normal as well. It starts early, just after first period, when you and Caleb are exiting Walberg's class. Bad enough that you're stuck with Geoff and Lisa (their arms around each other) behind you, and Kelsey and Amanda gossiping shrewishly in front of you. But as they duck off to the side you and Caleb come face to face with the Molester.<br/>
<br/>
For the briefest of moments you think you can get past him, for his eye is following Amanda. But then he catches sight of you, and his expression--which is always dark--darkens a little more.<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, fuck," he growls. "Look who it is." His lip curls. "If I knew <i>you</i> were in there with--" He catches himself, and a nasty, sour grin twists over his face. "I wanna talk to you guys."<br/>
<br/>
There's no point in demurring, especially after he gets your neck and Caleb's in the crook of his arm. He pulls you outside, saying he wants to talk to you about Walberg's class. It's long, tedious and horrible interrogation that follows, because he will insist on mocking you after your answers, and the mockery turns especially vicious after the subject turns to Amanda, and what she says and does in class. "She must love having to breath the same air as you two morons," he sneers.<br/>
<br/>
Even worse--and even worse than the way he keeps you well past the tardy bell to next period--is his promise that he'll want to hear about each class period each day from here on out.<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck was all that about," you gasp to Caleb when it's done, even though you can guess.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno, but I'm sure it's your fault," he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Why do you say that?" you demand with a tremor in your voice. Because, if this is a consequence of the teasing you gave him when you were playing Dane on Monday, then he's right.<br/>
<br/>
"It usually is," he grouses, then splits for his next class.<br/>
<br/>
You also have a run-in with David Kirkham just before lunch when you make the mistake of ducking into a restroom. At least <i>that's</i> just bad luck, you console yourself as you rub a tender kidney on the way out.<br/>
<br/>
"What happened to you?" Paul Davis asks as you sit down next to him on the grass out front. You don't often eat with Davis, Carson Ioeger, James Lamont, and Jenny Ashton. But you're still a little pissed at Caleb.<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up, it's a sore spot with me," you say as you rub your side and grimace. <i>Speaking of sore spots:</i> "Where's Yumi?" Paul makes a face.<br/>
<br/>
"Eating with the creeps," Jenny says. She looks off toward the cafeteria. "Chelsea insisted."<br/>
<br/>
"It's those two new guys," James says, and takes a bite out of his sandwich.<br/>
<br/>
"How do you know?" Jenny asks shrewdly.<br/>
<br/>
"Elementary deduction," Carson says. "She's dangling the cheerleaders in front of them, give 'em an incentive to do what Gordon wants."<br/>
<br/>
"What new guys are these?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Where's your school spirit?" James asks sarcastically. "The two new basketball players."<br/>
<br/>
"Since when am I supposed to give a shit about the basketball team," you retort. "But what are you talking about? I thought they had a full up roster."<br/>
<br/>
"They made room for these guys," Carson says. "They're from Eastman. They were on <i>their</i> team."<br/>
<br/>
"You're shitting me! Two of Eastman's players are over <i>here</i> now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Since when do you give a shit about the basketball team?" James asks with merry satire. "Weren't you here yesterday?" You shake your head. "Oh, well, that was the big news. And now you've heard all that we know."<br/>
<br/>
"Yumi will fill us in," Jenny says.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're able to get filled in directly the next day at lunch. Caleb and Keith have joined you this time with James and the others. It's quite a crowd, for besides the usual crew, Yumi is there, and she's got company.<br/>
<br/>
"Hey!" The guy with his arm around her waist raises his hand for a high-five after she introduces you, and you give him a polite slap back. He's blonde, with a wide smile, a golden tan, and eyes that dance with friendliness. "I'm Joe," he says, and jerks his head at another newcomer. "That's my brother, Frank."<br/>
<br/>
"Charmed," says Frank, though he sounds anything but. He has dark hair and dark eyes, and the way he's sitting cross-legged makes you think of an Iroquois warrior in repose. If Joe's eyes dance when they rest on you, Frank's eyes glitter.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Fucking jocks,</i> you find yourself thinking, for they're in muscle shirts, and round, firm muscles bulge out wherever they've exposed their skin. "So you're the new guys," you say aloud. "How is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"They already hate Gordon," Yumi dimples, and puts her arm around Joe.<br/>
<br/>
"We don't hate anybody!" Joe protests with a laugh. "I'm loving almost everyone I've met here."<br/>
<br/>
A glance at Paul shows that he's not reciprocating.<br/>
<br/>
"It's definitely a different scene over here," Frank says. "I don't think we'll be socializing much with the other guys on the team. You guys seem kind of cool, though." <br/>
<br/>
But his sincerity seems doubtful. Joe laughs and joshes with everyone, but Frank remains mostly silent and watchful. You also have the impression that his gaze never wanders far from you.<br/>
<br/>
"If they're going to start eating lunch with Carson and them, I'm going to stop," Caleb says afterwards as you walk back toward the school.<br/>
<br/>
"Do that," Keith says. "Leaves more for me." You and Caleb both turn toward him, and he turns a little red. "What I mean is," he protests, "there's gonna be a lot more girls eating lunch over there if those two are there."<br/>
<br/>
"You wanna pick up sloppy seconds, be my guest," Caleb snorts. "Right, Prescott?" He nudges you.<br/>
<br/>
But you're not sure. A lot of girls <i>did</i> stop by to chat during lunch.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The thought recurs after class as you're walking past the gym to the parking lot. You turn at your shouted name. It's Joe. "Where you off to?" he calls.<br/>
<br/>
"Home!"<br/>
<br/>
"Stick around, do something with us after practice!" He hangs his arm around his brother's shoulders.<br/>
<br/>
Just then your phone rings: It's your dad. "You out of class?" he asks. "Come over to Salopek."<br/>
<br/>
You shudder, for you've a premonition what it'll be about. You look at Joe and Frank: Here might be an excuse to slip the net he's certainly set for you.</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112222112221
author_id: seuzz
title: A New Way of Faking People Out
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Nothing good will come from standing up your dad if he wants a meeting, so you tell him you'll be out there in about twenty minutes. "I gotta meet my dad at his work," you call back to Joe and Frank.<br/>
<br/>
"How about after that?" Joe calls. "Come on!" But you wave them off. There must be something weird about them if they want to hang out with <i>you.</i><br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You swallow hard as your dad holds it out to you: an electric guitar. A very nice one. You don't dare touch it. "It's yours if you want it," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Um, thanks," you say, trying to sound genuinely grateful. "But I thought you said I couldn't have one unless I took a job here."<br/>
<br/>
"You <i>are</i> taking a job here," he says in a pleasant voice. "The application is on my desk."<br/>
<br/>
You feel your cheeks pale. "I thought you said I didn't have to take the job if I didn't want a guitar."<br/>
<br/>
"I said you'd have to take the job if you wanted the guitar," he says. "You're taking the job anyway. If you want the guitar, you can have it too." You say nothing. "I can return it if you don't want it, and you can use the money for something else."<br/>
<br/>
<i>So you are trapped, utterly trapped.</i> "Can I think about it," you ask in a miserable voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I'll return it after work, then," he says. "If you decide you want it, I'll buy it again."<br/>
<br/>
"And I pay you back," you say tonelessly. He nods. "Thanks."<br/>
<br/>
"You're welcome. Now, fill out the forms--the job is yours, this is just a formality--and then get over to this address." He hands you a piece of paper. "Your piano lessons start today."<br/>
<br/>
"I still have to do those?" you exclaim. Your dad's face turns red. "Okay, yes sir." You slump at his desk and scratch a weak pen over the forms.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Mr. Kirnberger's:</i> You're barely polite to the man who opens the door for you, even though there's nothing obviously offensive about him. He's a bald, birdlike creature you've seen around church any number of Sundays without paying any attention to him. The only really notable thing about him is his bow tie, on which a crop of ludicrous polka dots flourish. He sets you at the piano and quizzes you on what you know, which isn't much. He asks what you want to know, and that breaches the dam, and in a pinched, ragged voice say you just want to learn to play the guitar and don't want to mess around with the piano or lessons or reading music or a lot of <i>schoolwork.</i> His lips purse and he turns very dry and cold and treats you to a screechy little lecture about how you need to know the basics if you're to learn <i>anything</i> connected to music. You hang your head and sulk. It soon turns into a battle of wills as he sets books in front of you, goes over the basics of the keyboard and sheet music, and shows you some exercises that he wants you to practice over the next week. <br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your phone had rung a few times while you were with Mr. Kirnberger, but he'd stiffly taken it from you and set it in another room. When you leave, you check it, and see the calls were coming from Justin. Your tone is tentative when you call him back. "Yeah," he drawls. "I'm over at that school by your house. You should come over, I got something to show you."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Oh yeah, that project,</i> you remember. Maybe it's a sign that he's forgiven you finally, if he's willing to show it--whatever it is--to you. Or maybe it's a sign of how pissed he is that he's put it off this long.<br/>
<br/>
The basement door is closed but the lock is off, and a dim light is showing in the windows. You stop dead in your tracks at the top of the stairs after you've stepped in, and your jaw falls open.<br/>
<br/>
Justin is there, but he's wearing nothing but a pair of red, plaid boxers as he perches on the table, grinning at you. But that's not the real shock. The real shock is Andrea Varnsworth, sitting next to him and wearing nothing but a large t-shirt. Her smile is cooler than Justin's, and she doesn't look directly at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Er, hi," you croak out.<br/>
<br/>
Justin busts out in a loud guffaw, and nudges Andrea. "Go say hi to Will," he says. "The way I told you to."<br/>
<br/>
She rolls her eyes and sighs, but smiles at him, and hops off the table. Her eyes are veiled as she draws up to you. You're rooted to the spot, and your own mouth splits wide in a stupid grin.<br/>
<br/>
And then you shriek as her hands go for your zipper. "Take your hand job like a man," Justin yells at you.<br/>
<br/>
Sure enough, her fingers are now probing deep into your pants, and they touch your cock. You shriek again, and fall back onto your ass. But Andrea just keeps chasing you.<br/>
<br/>
You wriggle about on the dusty steps, caught between surprise, desire, and intense mortification. It only ends when Justin says a word, and Andrea draws back. Her smile remains enigmatic.<br/>
<br/>
Justin materializes behind her and wraps his arms about her. He puts his hand to her face.<br/>
<br/>
A snort escapes your chest. <i>So that's all it is. These guys pranking you with that mask of Andrea.</i><br/>
<br/>
But when the mask comes away in his hand ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I'm not sure what it is," Justin says as he peers at it with his hands on his hips. "I know what it's good for, though," he laughs.<br/>
<br/>
"It" is a big, lumpy, stone-like thing, about your height, and vaguely man-shaped. It has no facial features, and only a crude suggestion of arms, legs and a head. That's what the project had created. All that dirt and a bunch of chemicals, set on fire, and left to burn for almost a week. But when you put a mask on it, it turns into an exact duplicate of another person. And it's a docile duplicate.<br/>
<br/>
Docile to only one person, though. You and Justin had tested it out with Andrea's mask on it, and discovered that it would only obey him; <i>you</i> it regarded with undisguised distaste, possibly because Justin kept ordering it to kiss you in places you are not often kissed. "Must be because we used my hair in the spell," Justin says. "Glad it was mine and not Perry's. Moron forgot to put any in when he mixed up the other ingredients."<br/>
<br/>
"This means one of us doesn't have to put on Victoria's mask, or Andrea's, in order too, um--" you start observe.<br/>
<br/>
"You can put it on if you want, Prescott," Justin grins. "I won't stop you from sucking me off from under her face."<br/>
<br/>
You flip him off, and then frown. "Oh, but-- It only obeys <i>you.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Justin shrugs. "So we'll make up three more, one for each of us."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want to have to dig up any more dirt!"<br/>
<br/>
"You will if you want a playmate of your own." Then heslaps you lightly across the face. "But we don't have to. We'll just put one of our masks on it, and <i>it</i> can do the digging."<br/>
<br/>
Relief washes over you. And then you get another idea. "We could even send it in for us at school, couldn't we? I mean, when we get four of them, we could put our masks on them, and send them out to school, do chores, go to work for us--" You briefly make a face. "And we could hang out someplace else."<br/>
<br/>
"You really want one of these things taking over your life," Justin asks.<br/>
<br/>
"My life has turned <i>shitty</i> over the past few days," you snarl. "Nothing to do with you guys," you hastily add. "Fuck, you guys, this thing, it's the solution to everything that's gone wrong for me."<br/>
<br/>
"You and Perry both," Justin says. "But what would you do while it was living your life?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. Hang out with you guys?" Justin looks amused. "Put on Dane's mask and drive around being him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Put on Victoria's mask and let us--"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you!"<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly!" He roars with laughter, and claps a friendly arm around your shoulder. "Technically," he says, "me and Maize owe you for the other day. With this thing, we don't gotta pay you back in kind. Maize won't, I'll tell you that much. Me?" He shrugs. "I'll give you a shag as Andrea, if you want. I was inside her mask. She <i>likes</i> a good fuck, and she's good at it." He leans in close. "I'll even do it twice with you, pay Maize's debt, and then collect the back half from him myself."<br/>
<br/>
Your cock rises, and you flush deeply. <i>Sex with Andrea Varnsworth. The unattainable Andrea Varnsworth.</i> You feel faint. But your reason isn't so overthrown that you don't ask about the alternative: "You have any other ideas for paying me back?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know what other favors I could do for you."<br/>
<br/>
You gnaw at a knuckle. "What's the next spell in the book?" <i>Maybe there's an advantage to be gleaned there.</i><br/>
<br/>
"I dunno, haven't looked at it."</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221122211
author_id: seuzz
title: The Sudden Crisis
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I'll take a rain check," you tell Justin.<br/>
<br/>
"I ain't payin' you back more than a blow job," he says. "Or the equivalent."<br/>
<br/>
"Let's just see what turns up. I can always hit you for that bee-jay if nothing else." Justin shrugs. "Oh, we'll need some more supplies, won't we," you continue. "Come with me back to my place, and I'll give you all the money I've got."<br/>
<br/>
"Excellent. I can hit the supply stores before they close."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You give him all the loose bills you have--a twenty, some tens, and bunch of ones. But after he's gone you have another thought, and look for your dad in his study.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks for making me take the job," you say, and you genuinely mean it, since it won't be <i>you</i> suffering at it.<br/>
<br/>
"You've been thinking over its advantages, huh?"<br/>
<br/>
You nod fervently. "I'll take the guitar, too," you say, for you can practice on it--maybe in the school basement--while your double is at work or at school. "And as long as I'm going to be paying you back, can you advance me some money on the first paycheck? I can just sign it over to you when it comes?" Your dad gives you a look. "For the piano lessons," you explain. "I think those'll work out great too." <i>Great for your doppelganger,</i> you chortle to yourself. "Since those are for me, I'll pay for them too, and you can deduct that from my pay too."<br/>
<br/>
"Well," your dad says, sounding impressed. "That's very responsible of you, Will. Your first check after taxes and withholding should come to about two hundred dollars. Will that be enough for what you have in mind?" You say it will be, and he gives you a stack of ten twenties. "I got some errands to run," you say. "Can I just get something to eat while I'm out? I'm also going to do some studying at the library. Gotta budget my time."<br/>
<br/>
Now your dad <i>is</i> impressed, and doesn't object at all.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You make your own store runs, using a shopping list drawn up from the spell copies you'd made, and after grabbing a burger head over to the library. You don't do any studying, though. That'll be something else for the your double to do. Instead, you settle down to plan things out.<br/>
<br/>
You'll want two of those statue things, you decide. One to play your part at school, at work, at the piano lessons, maybe at home-- You frown and twiddle your pen. <i>Jeepers,</i> that's pretty much your entire life. What are <i>you</i> going to do? Oh, but that's what the other statue-thing will be for. Put some masks on it and play with it when you're not learning the guitar. You suck hard on your lip. Who can you get? Some cheerleaders would be great. Chelsea Cooper, the head cheerleader? Fuck, yeah, that'd be awesome! Cindy Vredenburg? Almost as good!<br/>
<br/>
But you couldn't get close to them, they have nothing to do with you. You could get Yumi, of course--<br/>
<br/>
It clicks: If you wore a mask of Yumi, you could get close to Chelsea and Cindy, all the other cheerleaders, the way you used Dane's face to get to Andrea. Hell, you could get into the locker room with them, watch as they all changed out into--<br/>
<br/>
<i>Shit,</i> that'd only work if someone distracted Yumi, took her aside for a whole day the way Maize has been distracting Dane; and Yumi's not distractable the way Dane is. But if you could find some way of taking over Yumi's life for a day, like you took over Dane's, <i>that</i> would be something to do with all the free time you're suddenly going to be having.<br/>
<br/>
You should get a copy of Yumi anyway, but maybe there are some other people you could step in for? You chew a fingernail. Doesn't seem very likely; the only people you could probably do that with are Dane, Justin, Perry, and Maize. Well, why not? You could offer to step in for them at school, or with their other activities, while they busied themselves with their own sex slaves. You guys would probably have to set up a schedule. <br/>
<br/>
You should write out a proposal for Justin, so he and the other guys can see what--<br/>
<br/>
Your phone rings, and you check it. <i>Joe Durras?</i> Who the fuck is--? <i>Oh, him.</i> You turn your phone off.<br/>
<br/>
You've just got your pencil pressed to the paper when something catches your eye. You groan. It's Geoff Mansfield, at another table, and he's got Lisa with him. They don't see you, but you can see them. They've got some books, but it doesn't look like they're going to do any studying, for Mansfield pulls his chair up next to Lisa's, and drapes a long arm around her shoulder. They nuzzle.<br/>
<br/>
You put your face onto the table. <i>Lisa. Dammit.</i> You could copy her. But the thought is more than a little revolting. You don't want Lisa for <i>sex.</i> Well, that would be fun, but you want more than that from her. And the thought of hanging your lips on a duplicate of her, a duplicate that would kiss you back only because you were ordering it too-- You gag.<br/>
<br/>
You peer up at them. Lisa is turned in your direction, and you can see the light on her face as she gazes rapturously at Mansfield. You never saw that look on her face when <i>you</i> were with her. Sharp, grinding envy swallows you. <i>That fucker.</i> He's got it all. Looks, height, poise, smarts, a clever and ambitious lot of friends, a future, money. Lisa. If you were going to step into someone's life--<br/>
<br/>
But you wouldn't want it for only a little while, and you're not sure you'd want it for yourself. Mostly, you'd just like to take it away from <i>him.</i> But you'd take it, swagger around with it, jerk off inside it.<br/>
<br/>
You lay your head on your arm, and doodle absent-mindedly on the paper while waiting for the churlish, spiteful mood to pass. It's a good long time before it does.<br/>
<br/>
"Some friends from school stopped by earlier, looking for you," your mom says when you get home.<br/>
<br/>
"Caleb? Keith?"<br/>
<br/>
"Frank and Joe," she says.<br/>
<br/>
<i>What is with those guys,</i> you wonder to yourself, but only grunt back at your mom.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The next morning, your phone rings before your alarm goes off. "Uh, yeah?" you say, as you drag your consciousness up out of a deep ocean. It gives you the mental bends. "Say what?"<br/>
<br/>
"I said get over to the elementary school," Justin says. "As soon as you can."<br/>
<br/>
"Why, what's up?" You sit up, feeling alarm. You'd given yourself a very pleasant rub down last night as you'd contemplated your plans for the future. If something's gone wrong--<br/>
<br/>
"We just need to talk," Justin says. "It's important. Perry'll be over here too."<br/>
<br/>
It sounds ominous, and you hustle in and out of the shower. "Gotta meet some guys early," you tell your mom and dad as you hurry through the kitchen, snatching up a bagel and toast and small bottle of orange juice.<br/>
<br/>
"Band practice?" your dad asks dryly.<br/>
<br/>
"Something like that, I think," you say, and run out the door.<br/>
<br/>
The air is cold but refreshing, and the sunlight bright; much nicer than the basement, which is musty and dim. Perry is already there--Justin must have called him first--and he's looking at Justin with a hard expression. Justin himself is looking extraordinarily haggard, with deep bags hanging under bloodshot eyes. "Close the door," he says, and gestures you in.<br/>
<br/>
He sits heavily on the dirty conference table that dominates the center of the room. "Okay, first thing is that Maize is out. It's just the three of us."<br/>
<br/>
"What happened?" Perry demands, not sounding surprised.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, he's never liked what we're doing," Justin says. "And he really didn't like it when I showed him the, uh--" He jerks his head at the statue, which is nearby. "Anyway, he's out. There's not much point in even talking to him." His eyes flicker as he looks between you and Perry. "Do either of you want out?"<br/>
<br/>
You and Perry look at each other, mouths hanging open; you don't know what to say, and it looks like he doesn't either. He speaks first though, and his question would be yours as well. "Did something happen? I mean, with <i>that</i> thing?" He jerks his own chin at the statue. "Something after we--"<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's exactly the way it was before. I did a little research online. That book doesn't have a name for it, but 'golem' seems the best word for them. Magical slave made of mud. No, Maize just got freaked out. Talked about demons and shit." Justin runs his fingers through his hair, leaving it wild and tangled. "So he's out. That's all."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus, is <i>that</i> what you dragged me out here for?" Perry snorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Keep your shit together," Justin yells back. "This is important. The way you've been talking the last few days-- You too, Prescott--" He licks his lips and swallows hard. "Would, uh, would you guys be willing to swap lives with someone else? Would that be something you'd like to do?"<br/>
<br/>
You take a giant step back, and exchange another glance with Perry. "You mean, like what we've been doing, us going to classes, and going home as each other?" Perry asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but as other people, not each other," Justin says. The lines on his face deepen. "Like, we find other people, and we use the masks to become them. And they become <i>us.</i> Permanent change."<br/>
<br/>
And then he speaks in a rush: "Because that's what <i>I'm</i> going to do." He picks up a mask from the table. "I don't want to be Justin Roth anymore. I want to be-- Well, just <i>somebody</i> else."</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111222211222111
author_id: seuzz
title: Three Lives Into Six
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Perry grabs Justin by the shoulders. "The fuck are you talking about, man? You do some bad shit last night?"<br/>
<br/>
Justin quails hard, and seems to shrivel up inside himself. He rubs at his eyes, hard. "Yeah," he gasps.<br/>
<br/>
"I've been <i>telling</i> you to lay off that shit," Perry yells. "It's messing you all up inside."<br/>
<br/>
Justin looks up at Perry, his eyes out of focus. His jaw works. Then he blinks, and seems to master himself. "Yeah," he says slowly. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. I need to get out of this head, get into another. One that's clean. I'm okay when I'm--" He swallows. "When I'm inside one of these things." He fingers the mask.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you talking about, swapping with other people?" you ask. "You mean you want to tell some other people about it, make them, uh, partners?"<br/>
<br/>
Justin shakes his head. "No. It's the next spell in the book." He looks around. "Shit, I left it at Maize's. But, anyway--" He picks up the mask and turns it over. "The next spell, it makes this stuff, and you can put it inside a mask, and--"<br/>
<br/>
He shakes himself all over as you and Perry stare hard at him, and starts over again with more energy. "Okay, it would work like this. Like, with me and Andrea, for an example." He holds up the mask. "We take my mask, and we put this special gunk inside it. The new spell in the book makes this gunk. Well, then, if anyone puts the mask on, they turn into me, right?" Perry nods; you don't, though you think you follow him. "But this gunk, it's like it hides the person underneath. It's like they disappear. All that's left is a duplicate of me. Like when we put a mask on that thing." He points to the golem. "It acts just like me. But it has to do what I say. It's my slave."<br/>
<br/>
"And the person under the mask?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Like I said, they just kind of disappear. Oh, if you take the mask off them, then they come back. They don't remember anything. They don't know they were under a mask--"<br/>
<br/>
"How do you know this?" Perry asks. "Did the book explain it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Kind of. You know what that thing is like. No, I tested it out. I went to see Andrea last night. I had a mask with me, with some of the gunk inside. I got it onto her while we were, uh-- And she didn't know it. It was suddenly another person in the bed with me." Justin looks shifty. "And then I took it off. She thought she'd just fallen asleep."<br/>
<br/>
"So there's be two of you running around," Perry says.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. There'd be someone who'd be doing my stuff," Justin says. "Acting just like me, but following my orders. What I'd do is-- Well, if I put my mask onto Andrea, with that gunk in it, I'd put on a mask of her. No gunk, so I wouldn't disappear. But I'd take over her life."<br/>
<br/>
"How long would this last?" Perry asks in a faint voice.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," Justin says, sounding miserable. "Maybe forever? Maybe until we figured out a way of bringing them back, making it look like they had amnesia?"<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus!" you whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"I know it sounds bad," Justin says. "But it doesn't hurt them! It just puts them to sleep."<br/>
<br/>
Perry takes a deep breath, and sits down heavily into a chair. You also take a deep breath, and slouch into another chair. Your legs feel very weak. "You're serious about doing this?" Perry asks quietly.<br/>
<br/>
"I <i>am</i> doing it," Justin says with a sudden ferocity. "Absolutely. I don't know who I'd take over for, not yet." He stumbles over the words "take over," but otherwise his voice is firm. "But I'm going to do it. I'm making a change. A permanent one. Even if I let the other, uh, guy out again after awhile, I'd find another. Because my head--" He clutches it.<br/>
<br/>
"Why are you telling us this?" you ask. "If you're going to do it--"<br/>
<br/>
He looks up at you with wide eyes, and then over at Perry. "Because you guys know about this. Because you're friends. I don't want to leave you guys behind. I still want to be friends with you. I'd really like it if you guys-- If you guys came with me." He sags, looking utterly forlorn.<br/>
<br/>
There's silence for a very long time. No one looks at anyone else. Then Perry gets up and goes over lean against the table next to Justin. "Sure, I'll do it. I go with you. Fucking Tom," he mutters. "I'm so sick of his shit."<br/>
<br/>
And that decides it for you. As though you hadn't basically decided it just by standing here and listening. It's more or less what you were fantasizing about last night. What you couldn't see--a way of worming into someone's life for as long as you want--has now been presented to you. "I'm in too," you say. "I've got myself in deep with my own parents."<br/>
<br/>
Justin takes a deep breath, and claps an arm around Perry's shoulders, and gestures you over. "Thanks, guys," he says as he pulls you into a similar embrace. "It's going to be just the three of us. Let's make it count. Here's what we'll do."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The decision having been made, Justin regains almost all of his composure and starts issuing orders. "We'll skip school today, start getting things set up. I'll go get the book from Maize's. Perry, you go over to the cemetery and get us some dirt. We just need, like, one bag. Prescott, you--" He stares at the floor, thinking. "Get this place cleaned up. Then put on Andrea's mask and start thinking about who we could get close to, using her."<br/>
<br/>
Perry gets a shifty look. "Why can't <i>I</i> put--"<br/>
<br/>
"Because Prescott got the dirt once. You can do it now." Perry grumbles, but complies.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The basement is such a wreck that there's not much you can do with it, so it's only a few minutes after the others have left that you pick up Andrea's mask. You tingle all over, and gulp.<br/>
<br/>
You wake to a very constricted feeling in your torso. You sit up, to find your bosom pressing tightly against a dingy t-shirt. You cluck your tongue. What are you wearing this thing for? And where the hell are--?<br/>
<br/>
It all comes back to you. You stretch your arms, straining the t-shirt even more, and feel your face settle into Andrea's usual quiet, imperious attitude.  You feel satisfied, inside and out. Justin-- You smile to yourself. <i>Justin was good last night.</i><br/>
<br/>
You'd like a swim, something to refresh you. But you've got work to do. You kick off the too-large shoes and scamper lightly up the steps and outside to your truck, to fetch your bag. Back inside, you pull off the sloppy jeans, but remain in the boxers, which are very comfortable. You squirm a little inside them, and press a hand between your thighs. <i>Justin was good, but you're hungry again.</i> You don't want a cock, though. You want a tongue, the tongue of some cute little girl, lapping at you.<br/>
<br/>
You shake your hair back. Time for that later, after you've got things planned out. Who could Andrea get? You scribble out only a few names before stopping with a smile. <i>Andrea could get anyone, just by crooking a finger.</i> You lapse into a lazy daydream.<br/>
<br/>
It's in this attitude that the others find you; Justin must have met Perry separately and come back with him. "Lookin' good there, Prescott," he chortles.<br/>
<br/>
"Thanks. I assume Andrea will be one of the ones we switch with?"<br/>
<br/>
"You want her for yourself?" Justin asks. He glances over at Perry. "That's something to talk about."<br/>
<br/>
"With Andrea, we could get anyone at the school," you start.<br/>
<br/>
"That's right, but who would <i>she</i> want? If <i>you</i> were Andrea, who would <i>you</i> want for a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?" Justin's mouth goes up at the corner. He must have been in the mask, felt what you've felt about Andrea's ambidextrous desires.<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean by 'boyfriend' or 'girlfriend'?" you ask. Justin's proposal is taking a very surprising turn.<br/>
<br/>
"Because the three of us are going to be more than just friends," he says. He sets his own bag heavily onto the desk. "That's the way I want to do it. The three of us--" He points around the circle formed by your trio. "We're going to be couples."<br/>
<br/>
You gasp; so does Perry. "What are you thinking?" Perry demands. "Like a ménage a trois?"<br/>
<br/>
"Nope," Justin says. "I was thinking about it all the way over to Maize's and back. We're each going to take two people. Boy and girl. And we're going to be couples with each other." He puts his arm around Perry. "I'll be a guy and you'll be my girlfriend. Or I'll be a girl and you'll be my boyfriend." He looks at you. "Same with you and me, Prescott. If I'm Perry's girlfriend, I'll find a guy to be too, and you'll be <i>my</i> girlfriend. And then you'll find a guy, and Perry will be <i>your</i> girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
Perry looks as confused as you feel.<br/>
<br/>
"It's like this," Justin says. He point to himself. "I'm a guy." He points to you. "You'll be my girlfriend. But you'll have a second identity. A guy." He points to Perry. "You'll be Prescott's girlfriend. And you'll also have a guy, and I'll be your girlfriend." He shrugs. "Or do the circle in the other direction." He points to himself. "We each have a guy and a girl, and we use them to be boyfriends and girlfriends with each other."<br/>
<br/>
"This sounds really complicated and really weird," Perry says.</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112222112221112
author_id: seuzz
title: The Desirable Andrea Varnsworth
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Why are you wanting to do things this way?" you ask Justin. "What's wrong with just taking people and being friends?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because I want us to be <i>tight,</i>" Justin says. "I want a commitment. And I don't want any jealousies, like people worried that two of us are getting too close and leaving the other one out."<br/>
<br/>
You look at Perry, and he looks back at you. You can see your own wariness in his eyes. You and he don't have a lot to say to each other; he is Justin's long-time friend; and you're just a guy that Justin brought in for reasons that you still don't understand. <br/>
<br/>
It would be very easy for you to become the odd man out.<br/>
<br/>
That's the reason you nod along to Justin's suggestion, even though you don't really understand it. "Sure," you say. "That sounds like a good idea."<br/>
<br/>
Perry looks trapped, but nods too.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright then," Justin says. He points to you. "Andrea. Who gets to be Andrea? It's still early, I bet I could get her out here before school if one of us wants to take over for her."<br/>
<br/>
"Do we have to decide that now?" Perry asks. "I mean, we could switch these things around, couldn't we?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, let's go ahead and get her," Justin says, and takes out his phone. "Tell you what, Prescott, since you're already in her mask, you can go to school as her today, look around, get a feel for things. Me and Perry will skip and get some more shit made. Call us at lunch, and we'll talk about who you should bring out here for another replacement."<br/>
<br/>
You stroke your hair back thoughtfully before nodding. "That will work. What time is it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Almost eight."<br/>
<br/>
"I should just be getting up. I--" You suddenly notice the way the pronouns have switched unbidden. "She likes to swim and shower at school."<br/>
<br/>
Justin has noticed too. "Already getting settled in, huh? First, let's get some hair off you. The real you. We need it for the gunk we're gonna put in your mask." He advances with his hand outstretched.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Would you like to take a picture?" you coolly ask the straw-headed doofus who is goggling at your naked breasts. "Impress Caleb and Keith?"<br/>
<br/>
He fumbles at the phone in his pockets. <br/>
<br/>
"Put it away," you say. "Turn around. Finish getting dressed."<br/>
<br/>
Will Prescott's face craters as he complies. He has a hard time tugging his jeans up around his skinny ass because of the chubby out front.<br/>
<br/>
"You too, Perry," you say.<br/>
<br/>
He snorts and tosses his head. "I don't gotta do what you say."<br/>
<br/>
"You do if you'd like to do something with these except stare at them." You cradle your bare breasts.<br/>
<br/>
He rolls his eyes, but turns around.<br/>
<br/>
That leaves Justin, who's playing it cool by the conference table. You give him a hooded smile and draw close. "I didn't tell you how good you were last night," you sigh, and put your mouth close to his.<br/>
<br/>
He grunts. "You didn't have to. I checked it out afterward."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm." You slip the bra onto your shoulders and tuck your magnificent globes into the cups. You turn around. "Bind me up?" He snaps and hooks everything into place, but doesn't touch you otherwise. You step forward, and bend all the way over to the floor, showing him your ass, as you pick up Andrea's discarded panties. You draw them slowly on, and give them a little snap. "Why don't you join the swim team, Justin? I bet you've got a powerful stroke."<br/>
<br/>
"I save it for other occasions. You really like getting into the girls, don't you, Prescott?"<br/>
<br/>
You give him a small smile over your shoulder, and slowly draw the skinny jeans over your legs, buttoning them under your hard, shallow stomach. "They've got a lot of power, don't they," you say softly. "I could have any guy in the school eating out of my hand, like a puppy eating kibble." You advance back on him, putting one hand to the back of his head and cupping the other under his chin. "Would you like a treat, Justin?"<br/>
<br/>
His eyes narrow. "Is this really Andrea talking?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," you sigh, and step back. "She actually doesn't like it a whole lot, all the stares." You tilt your chin, to look at him down your nose under hooded lids. "That's why she always gives them <i>this</i> look. But she dresses the part. Keeps 'em off balance." You pull on the white t-shirt; it drapes down to almost, but not quite, touch the top of your jeans. You pull your hair free, and slip small but sculpted feet into the sandals, and again bend all the way over at the waist to do the straps.<br/>
<br/>
You're still poised this way when you feel Justin's hands on your ass. "I really don't know what would be more fun. Being Andrea's boyfriend, or being Andrea."<br/>
<br/>
"What about being her girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
"That might fun," he admits. "But it would fuck up the balance. I wanna be a guy, too. I'd miss my cock."<br/>
<br/>
"So would I. Be my boyfriend, Justin?" You raise up, and put your arms around him.<br/>
<br/>
"The guy who looks like Justin Roth won't be," he says. "You'll have someone else for a boyfriend. And maybe it'll be me underneath, or maybe it'll be Perry."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I guess we'll talk about it later. Are you ready over there?" you demand of Prescott.<br/>
<br/>
"Am I supposed to go now?" he croaks back.<br/>
<br/>
"Yes. Go to school. Do all the normal stuff you do. But don't tell <i>anyone</i> about what's going on with these masks and things."<br/>
<br/>
He nods, and with a nervous, skipping hop dashes out of the basement. <br/>
<br/>
"I need to go too," you sigh. "Call you at lunch." You're tempted to give Justin a kiss, but just smile at him before sauntering out at a more dignified pace.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You did enjoy teasing Justin, but you had a more serious purpose. If you understand his scheme correctly, Andrea is going to need a boyfriend. That boyfriend will either be a disguised Justin, or a disguised Perry; and you really don't want it to be the latter. Better still, if you play Justin's girlfriend, then Perry will have to play the girlfriend of whatever male disguise you choose, and you'd much rather be in the saddle there. By playing up Andrea's desirability, you hope to lure Justin into your preferred set up.<br/>
<br/>
Are you trying to take advantage of this situation? Then take advantage of it; ten to one Perry doesn't want to be <i>your</i> girlfriend, and is strenuously trying to make an equivalent pitch to Justin.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You pull yourself out of the pool and let the water drain from you before stepping onto the concrete floor of the natatorium. You wipe away the moisture from the taut swimsuit, and from your arms and legs, and pull your hair back, squeezing it. You are feeling pleasantly tired from the intense aquatic workout, and refreshed; to slice through the water relaxes you greatly.<br/>
<br/>
You're the last from the pool, and give the rest of the team a courteous nod. "Good work today, you guys," you tell them. You give Nathan Cruz a lingering up-and-down glance, though it's really the girls--Jamie Bornholm, Christine Coolidge, Bethany Lewis, Olivia Byrne, and Rachel Burton--that attract your excited but disguised attentions.<br/>
<br/>
You take a quick shower with the girls and change back into your clothes, and towel your hair until it is only damp. The bell signaling the end of first period has just rung as you pass the gym. Cheerleading practice has also just broken up, and you pause as they come chattering out of the gym. The swim team is nice, but to get into the cheerleaders' locker room during the changing of the uniforms--<br/>
<br/>
Ugh, it's not just Chelsea and her crew coming out. Steve Patterson was lurking in the gym during practice too. He's got his arm around a stiff Kendra Saunders, but he drops her instantly as soon as he sees you. "Hey Andrea," he says with a lazy smile, and his cold, gray eyes glint. "When are you and me going to get together?"<br/>
<br/>
Fucking Patterson. Number two guy on the basketball team, one of the top assholes who runs the school. He's never shy about demanding Andrea's attention, but she's not shy about ignoring him, so that's what you do.<br/>
<br/>
Instead, your eye falls on Chelsea Cooper. She's ignoring you the way you're ignoring Patterson. The way she's ignored Andrea and left her strictly alone since that little "incident" your freshman year when she and Andrea felt each other up--<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea: That's who you'd like to have lapping at you. You and Andrea both.<br/>
<br/>
But you don't force your presence, and just gracefully glide along to second period.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So how is it?" Justin asks.<br/>
<br/>
"It's nice." You're alone behind the school, alone, near the portables, entertaining boys at a distance by stretching down to grasp an ankle with one hand, while talking to Justin on the phone. "Everyone treats me so nice," you murmur again.<br/>
<br/>
"I bet. Anyone you want treating you nice in a special way? You sound like you want Andrea for yourself."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm. Maybe. Some of the attention isn't so nice. Patterson hit on me."<br/>
<br/>
There's a pause. "That would be a natural looking couple. Hang on," he says before you can indicate your distaste at the thought. There's a muttered conference on the other end before Justin comes back on. "Yeah, Steve it is for Andrea."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" you demand. "Don't I get a say?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you get a say, but Andrea doesn't. Perry says he wants Patterson for himself, and he wants Andrea for a girlfriend. So, that much is now settled.<br/>
<br/>
"So, you want to be Perry Patterson's girlfriend?" Justin asks when you don't reply. "Or are you going to give Andrea to me so I can be his hot lay?"</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221122211121
author_id: seuzz
title: An Ambush in Bed
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Your initial reaction is one of loathing, and it's your reaction as well as Andrea's. You flirted hard with Justin this morning so you wouldn't get paired in female form with Perry; and the thought of hooking up with Steve Patterson--the icy, bullying, rapacious Steve Patterson--also dismays you.<br/>
<br/>
But you don't speak so quickly that second thoughts can't come. Maybe it's the glimpse you get out of the corner of your eye, of those boys ogling you: You told Justin this morning that as Andrea you have a lot of power. Why couldn't you use it to tame or protect yourself from Perry? And Patterson, for all his loathsomeness, is one of the top guys at school. Maybe it would be better if you were "entwined" with him, instead of having Perry--under his face--smirking at you from the sidelines.<br/>
<br/>
Justin speaks before you can reply: "And there's something else to consider," he says. "I'm going to take Geoff Mansfield as my guy. So, you know, if you're not Perry Patterson's girlfriend, you'll be, uh, Justin Mansfield's girlfriend."<br/>
<br/>
And that settles it. If Justin is going to be Geoff, then that would probably pitch you into Lisa, which is the last thing you want. "I'll stick it out as Andrea," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Alright then," Justin chuckles. "I'll give Perry the good word. Can you get Patterson out to your place after school?"<br/>
<br/>
"Shouldn't be too hard. I'll have the place to myself. I can invite him out for dinner, let him think he's going to get more."<br/>
<br/>
"After the switch, he probably will," Justin says. You don't reply to that, and murmur tonelessly when he says he and Perry will meet you around four to help prepare for the ambush. Despite the autumnal air, you're feeling slightly feverish and prickly as you return to the main building.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Patterson, naturally, was receptive when you'd tracked him down in one of his late classes, though he'd also looked a little startled. That had been to your advantage, since you'd bullied him into meeting you at the house instead of following him up into the gym loft where he and the other top jocks like to hang out and fuck their women.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Four thirty:</i> "So, here's Perry's mask," Justin says as he takes it out of his backpack. "All ready to go. Get the blank onto Patterson--" He gestures at the other mask he'd taken out. "After it comes out of him, drop Perry's mask onto his face. Then give us a call."<br/>
<br/>
You glance over at Small, who's pacing the room nervously, not looking at you. "Where are you going to be?"<br/>
<br/>
"Got a date with Mansfield," Justin says. "You got Perry's number? Oh, never mind, the fake will know it. Call him on his phone, and we'll come out and make the final exchange."<br/>
<br/>
"Geoff is dating Lisa Yarborough, you know," you say. Justin stares back blankly. "So is that the girl that Perry's going to be taking over for?" Only after you'd dodged Lisa did you realize that you'd probably put her in Perry's crosshairs. <br/>
<br/>
But Justin shrugs. "Nothing says they can't break up. Perry'll get to pick. Whaddaya say, man?" he asks his friend. "You like the idea of being Lisa Yarborough?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whatever," he says, and keeps pacing.<br/>
<br/>
"You'll have a week to decide," Justin says. He looks back over at you. "Yeah, we're gonna keep a schedule. Each of us spending a week with each other before switching around. So, I guess it'll be you and Steve making it solid for the next few days. After that, you can start hunting around for a guy to take as your second. Have any ideas there yet?" You shrug, like Perry had. "Well, we'll all get together after this first round, talk about it." He looks at you skeptically. "You gonna be able to handle ol' Steve by yourself?"<br/>
<br/>
"If I can't, then I don't deserve to look like this," you say stiffly, and are suddenly conscious of your very succulent body.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe you've flaunted it a little as you'd said so, for Justin grins and sucks on his teeth. "Yeah, I'm feelin' kind of jealous of you two. I'm picking Geoff because he's got a future. I'm gonna want to make my other choice count in the present, though, so let's do some serious thinking about who you and me are going to be when it's the two of us together, okay, Prescott?" For a moment it looks like he's going to slap you in the chest, but you've got some big breasts there, and with a laugh he restrains himself.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"You like to live simple, don't you," Steve says bluntly. He's standing in the middle of the living room, looking it over with a cool gaze. <br/>
<br/>
It <i>is</i> bare: a desk, a small bookshelf, a table with an old-style boombox, the futon. "My mother doesn't believe in spending a lot of money."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have a lot of money to spend?" he asks in a jaundiced tone.<br/>
<br/>
"She makes enough." You really want this to be over with. "We like to travel. We spent two months this summer in Bolivia."<br/>
<br/>
"What's in Bolivia? Cocaine?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be a smart-ass, Steve. I invited you over to give you a chance." You put your hands on your hips and peer up at him from under hooded lids. "You want to help me fix dinner?"<br/>
<br/>
"What do you need help with?" he asks with undisguised distaste.<br/>
<br/>
"You can help me pick the peppers. A Bolivian dish, in fact. Rice and beans and peppers and vegetables.<br/>
<br/>
He winces and sighs and shrugs.<br/>
<br/>
And the urge to get rid of him once and for all becomes overpowering. "I was going to given you something spicy for dinner, and something spicier afterward. But if you want to skip to dessert, Steve--" You step forward and put your arms around his waist: if you look straight ahead, you can see his Adam's apple. He's dressed in Levis, so though you guess he's got a throbbing erection, you can't feel it.<br/>
<br/>
He wraps long arms around you. You hold each other awkwardly. Then he bends down and bites at the side of your neck. You flinch, but entice him a little more by putting your head against his chest. He squeezes you.<br/>
<br/>
You pull back, but grasp his elbow. "Come on. The bedroom's this way." He follows, but not so forwardly that you don't have to guide him. After he's inside the tiny bedroom--which is almost as spare as the living room--you shut the door and prod him onto the bed. He sits, and looks up at you with gleaming eyes. You push at his knees; he kicks off his sneakers and swings around to lay back. You chase him, straddling him, resting your hands on his shoulders. You lean in, and kiss him. He kisses back hungrily.<br/>
<br/>
"Hang on," you say, and fumble at the drawer of the night stand, where the masks are. "I gotta little thing I like to do with guys."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, nothing you've ever heard of, but you'll like it. You like masks, Steve?"<br/>
<br/>
"Masks?" He laughs. "You really are kinky, aren't you, Varnsworth? I've heard rumors--"<br/>
<br/>
"What rumors?" You frown.<br/>
<br/>
He snickers. "Maybe they're just fantasies people've had about you. Guys <i>and</i> girls."<br/>
<br/>
"Mm. Well, any rumors you've heard about me and <i>girls</i> are ... true."<br/>
<br/>
His eyes widen, and he cackles. "Oh, man! You got any girlfriends you can--"<br/>
<br/>
"Masks first, Steve. Masks, to be kinky. Another girl, to be kinkier. And to be kinkiest-- Well, let's leave it to your imagination."<br/>
<br/>
He flushes and gasps, and as you open the drawer he undoes his pants. A long, slim cock springs out. You smile thinly and take it in your warm palm. "Now, just close your eyes a minute, Steve--" His lids twitch as he shuts them. You take out one mask--it's Perry's--and then the other. Patterson's nostrils flare, and that's the last move he makes before you softly drop the blank mask onto his face.<br/>
<br/>
It vanishes into him. His entire body goes rigid, and then relaxes: the erection goes to. You get off him with a grunt, and sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for things to finish up.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Perry Small, when he appears in your bed, is truculent and bad-tempered, and barks and snaps into the cell phone when he calls his original to say that phase two of the switch is ready to go. "Asshole's gonna have all the fun," he grumbles, and looks up at you with beady eyes after he hangs up. "I don't guess <i>you'd</i> be willing to--"<br/>
<br/>
"I have a garden to weed," you tell him. "You just wait here."<br/>
<br/>
It's almost thirty minutes before your fellow conspirators show up, and Justin is still himself, for Mansfield had bailed on the meeting. He collects the fake Perry and leaves after the real Perry has ducked into the bedroom with the finished mask of Steve. You slouch on the futon and wait. Long minutes pass.<br/>
<br/>
You're beginning to get nervous, and then you hear the bedroom door open again. You look up as a very disoriented-looking Steve Patterson comes around the corner. He does a double take at you, then looks away. "Hi," he says, and doesn't look at you.<br/>
<br/>
"Hi yourself. Is everything okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess," he says, and sways a little. "The floor's a little far away." He paces the room on unsteady feet, but there's no place to land except the futon--where you are--and the chair at the desk. He picks the latter. He's dressed, except for his shoes, and slowly slips those on and ties the laces without speaking. "So I guess this is the start of my new life."<br/>
<br/>
"Is there anything wrong with it?" You're puzzled at his manner, for you'd felt yourself slipping into Andrea's life almost without noticing the change. "Is someone dead?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, it's all fine. Except for--" Now he does look at you. "Justin says we're supposed to be a couple. <i>Are</i> we going to be? Prescott?" He accents your real name.</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111222211222111211
author_id: seuzz
title: Reputations to Consider
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Since when does Steve Patterson ask for permission?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
Perry--for something about the way he's hunching in the chair really makes it clear that it's Perry Small over there, no matter that he's looking exactly like Steve Patterson--<br/>
<br/>
Perry stares back. "Are we really going to do this in character?" he says. "Fuck, Justin and Maize were telling me about you, and the way you get all--" He swallows. "When you get up like a girl."<br/>
<br/>
"Done up like anybody. Didn't you play it in character when you were wearing Justin's mask, or Dane's?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, sure. But that was--" He looks away, and his cheeks are a little pale. "But Steve Patterson. He's got kind of a strong personality." He looks back over at you, and in those cold grey eyes you can see a little of the gleam you saw when you put him onto the bed. "If we're going to be in character, I'm going to fuck you a couple of times, then go brag to Gordon and Jason Lynch about it, and then go fuck some other girls," he says. That gleam hardens.<br/>
<br/>
"Except Justin wants us to be <i>tight.</i> And Justin's in charge, isn't he?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who are you asking?" he asks, and his lips twitch. "Perry Small or Steve Patterson?" <br/>
<br/>
You cock your head. As his manner heats up, you put a chill into yours. "If you're going to fuck me, it's going to be as my boyfriend. That's the only way I'll do this. We'll have fun, and we'll make Justin happy by making it look like a <i>thing.</i> But it's a partnership, Small."<br/>
<br/>
"A partnership?' he echoes. "Really? What do you want out of it, Prescott?" He leans forward, and his eyes are like icicles. <br/>
<br/>
"I haven't decided," you admit. You stare at the wall over his shoulder. "This is all new to me. New to Andrea, too. She doesn't really care for you, whatever your name is, and I don't either. But when I decide--"<br/>
<br/>
You trail off. All unexpectedly--for only twenty-four hours ago you had no idea that you might find yourself here, in a new life, in this very odd three-way--you are clutching the top of the Westside High School social pyramid. You could be, to all appearances, the girlfriend of one of the most powerful guys in the school; and he himself is now a fake and one of your secret partners. You and Steve Patterson, hanging out with Gordon Black and Jason Lynch and Chelsea Cooper--<br/>
<br/>
There's a subject to temporize on. "What do you think of Chelsea?" you ask. "You, Steve, both of you, all mixed up together, whatever. What do you think of Chelsea?"<br/>
<br/>
"Pfft. Psycho bitch. Got Gordon all kinds of fucked up," he spits back. "I mean, don't get me wrong, she's sexy--" He seems to catch himself, and stammers. "I mean, you-- Andrea-- You're probably-- Oh, God!" <br/>
<br/>
"What would it mean if you and me were together," you ask, ignoring his flustered reaction. "The two of us on a double date with Gordon and Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"We wouldn't double date. We never have. But you mean the four of us, hanging out up in the loft?" He shrugs. "Chelsea's the only one that goes up there, except for the girls I take-- Except I wouldn't be doing that anymore, not now that--" Again, you're amused to see he's driven  himself into a cul-de-sac.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe that's what I want," you muse. "To make things awkward."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, fuck. You don't want to-- I don't need that kind of shit, man. Gordon's fucked up enough as it is without--"<br/>
<br/>
"Then let's just see what happens." You look him up and down.<br/>
<br/>
He's tense, and his mouth is haggard, and white and red spots fight for possession of his cheeks. You've got him thoroughly muddled up, you can tell. <br/>
<br/>
And that excites you. Or it excites Andrea. You're not sure you can tell where the excitement comes from. He's actually looking rather delectable, now that you've got his nerves so nicely frayed, and you know exactly how to get them knotted up so you can keep a better hold on him.<br/>
<br/>
"I promised Steve Patterson a spicy dessert," you say softly, and get to your feet. "Would you like to take it now?"<br/>
<br/>
"With or without masks?" he croaks.<br/>
<br/>
"Only the ones we've got on now." You lean forward so he can look straight down your loose t-shirt at the plunging cleavage and dangling breasts. "That's why we put them on, isn't it?" You cover his mouth with yours.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You take him back into the bedroom, and this time there are no tricks. Again he pries off his shoes and undoes the front of his pants, and you pull his shirt off. He's lean and rangy, with a light brown carpet across his chest. You pull off your own jeans and panties and clamber onto him and let his thrusting cock tickle the spot between your legs. He snaps up hungrily at you, but you hold back, and the two of pant and gasp wordlessly at each other as you slowly slide onto him. You ride him up and down, and so eager and impatient is he that he comes long before you yourself are ready.<br/>
<br/>
So you lay down atop him, and put an arm around him, and kiss him. Though he's already spent himself inside you, his hunger is hardly sated, and his kisses are hard and devouring; you wince at his teeth tear lightly at you. You are both soon slick with sweat, and your skin burns where it touches him. "Tell me I'm a god," he gasps. "Tell me-- Oh, fuck, tell me--" He swallows and clenches his eyes shut. "Tell me I'm Steve Patterson and, I'm a god."<br/>
<br/>
"You're Steve Patterson. You're Steve Patterson, and you're a god. You're a god in bed--"<br/>
<br/>
"And on the court. In the hallways."<br/>
<br/>
You smother the urge to snicker. "You're god on the court and in the hallways. You're so fucking hot and so fucking cold--"<br/>
<br/>
His back arches and his face twists into a hard grimace. "I'm-- I'm--" He pushes at you, and you rise, and he pushes you off and twists around covers you with himself. He pushes back inside you and is thrusting. "I'm-- Ahhh!" He growls long and low in his throat, and then he's pumping again. You lie back and take it.<br/>
<br/>
He goes limp, and is very heavy on you. "You can get off, Steve, if you're--" He mumbles into the pillow. "Come on, I'm--" You push at him, and with a groan he flops onto his side. <br/>
<br/>
You let him lay there for a bit, and then you get up and go into the bathroom, where you wash yourself all over. Your hair is a mess, and you're flushed. Back in the bedroom, he opens a single eye and looks at you as you get dressed again. "I'll fix us something to eat now," you say.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Dinner is quiet, and he seems moody. "We should do it up the gym," he says curtly when you ask him what's wrong. "Make it all proper."<br/>
<br/>
"Is that where you always do it?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." He stabs at a hunk of zucchini and wrinkles his nose at it: the meal is obviously not to his taste. "Can't do it at my place. And it shows people who's boss at the school."<br/>
<br/>
"They all know you're boss at the school, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuckin' straight." He looks up at you, and now it's pure Steve Patterson, no tincture of Perry Small, in his eyes. "I take you up there, and then you're mine."<br/>
<br/>
"And you're mine too. Don't forget."<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." His lips twitch. "But it's not official until we do it up there. Play along tomorrow when I see you. You can do the whole aquatic bitch thing--that'll really make it look good when we go up there--but I won't start putting my arm around you until I've told Gordon what we've done and where we've done it and how many times we've done it."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you really so worried about your reputation?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just give me what I want, and then I'll give you what you want."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Sure,</i> you think. <i>Let him play his little macho games.</i> He leaves not long afterward, without giving you so much as a kiss.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You go to bed before your mom gets home from working at the restaurant, and you're up and gone to school while she's still asleep: you won't see her until after school, and maybe not even then. Which suits you. You didn't pick Andrea because of her home life.<br/>
<br/>
But school life has complications of its own. "There you are, Drea," Charles Hartlein chortles as you come out of the natatorium after swimming practice. "I missed you last night."<br/>
<br/>
You feel your face tighten. "Were we supposed to get together?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. You were busy. Or were you getting busy?" He laughs. "Oh my God, Steve Patterson's car was parked in front of your house for <i>hours!</i>" He laughs again, and his eyes glint wickedly.<br/>
<br/>
"What, were <i>you</i> camped out there for hours?" Charles's ambush is so brazen you can't come up with any sort of cover story.<br/>
<br/>
"I kept stopping by, but I finally gave up. I guess <i>you</i> gave up too? Surrendered to him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I just got tired of him pestering me." You turn away.<br/>
<br/>
But he trots along beside you, and clucks his tongue. "So you lost. His reputation against yours, and guess who came out on top. It was <i>him</i> on top, wasn't it?" He sniggers.<br/>
<br/>
"Who says I lost anything?" You wheel on him, but he just grins back. "Anyway, who gives a fuck?"<br/>
<br/>
"You did. And you know, one way or another it'll be all over school soon."<br/>
<br/>
You tremble all over, with anger, not fear. It wouldn't take much to put Charles in his place--under your thumb. It would only take a mask. But you'd have to talk to Justin about it, and he wouldn't care.<br/>
<br/>
Or would you have to talk to him? You've got copies of those spells.</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112222112221112112
author_id: seuzz
title: Getting a Boyfriend
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Justin will only tell you to deal with Charles yourself, and he certainly won't want to use any magical means.<br/>
<br/>
But you have to play for time. "You say the whole school will know about us. Are you planning on telling everyone?"<br/>
<br/>
Charles turns a little pink but continues to grin. "I don't have to. Steve'll tell his friends, including <i>Chelsea,</i> and then--" He grabs your arm. "You need a friend, Drea, to counter the <i>lies</i> she'll spread. So tell me <i>your</i> side."<br/>
<br/>
Maybe you won't need to handle him, except in the normal way. But you'll keep the option open. "Come see me tomorrow night," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"Tomorrow?" he cries. "I can't wait that long."<br/>
<br/>
"You'll have to."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, you mean you have to come up with a story? That's what <i>I'm</i> for."<br/>
<br/>
"Tomorrow," you repeat, and shake him off. "I don't want to see you before then."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You watch for Geoff Mansfield, on the assumption that Justin has made an exchange, but you don't catch sight of him until lunchtime, and then under curious circumstances. You're eating outside the cafeteria with some of your new friends--Jelena Petrovic, Fatima Zahedi, Sienna Goldman, and (sigh) Charles--when you glance up to see Patterson hustling Mansfield along toward the gym. It's clearly a hijacking of the kind Patterson and his friends specialize in--grabbing people who've gotten athwart them--and you instantly guess what's going on: Perry is taking the hapless Mansfield up to the gym loft, where Justin is undoubtedly waiting with two masks. You watch until they disappear. When you turn back around, Charles is laughing to himself. "He's cute, isn't he?" he says.<br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Whoever you were staring at." He takes a bite from his apple. You don't reply.<br/>
<br/>
Sure enough, in fourth period, Geoff catches your eye as he sets his pack on the back of the chair. "I saw you with Steve Patterson at lunch," you say neutrally.<br/>
<br/>
He sighs. "Yeah. Asshole."<br/>
<br/>
"Someone needs to kick him hard in the balls," Kelsey Blankenship fumes. She turns in her desk to glare at someone behind you. "What about you, Frank? Or are you and your brother going to turn out to be assholes too?"<br/>
<br/>
You look around to see who she's talking to, and do a slight double take. It's one of those new basketball players who'd been lightly pestering you: Frank Durras. He's so quiet that you hadn't even noticed he had joined this class. His glance grazes over your face as he turns to Kelsey. "My brother and I are still finding our feet," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"That's right, just play along like they all do," Kelsey retorts. <br/>
<br/>
"It wasn't that bad, Kelsey," Geoff says. "Mostly it was just talking." He sits down, and turns as Lisa, who is sitting behind him, puts her hand on his arm. "Homework stuff, but he's too much of a prick to <i>ask</i> for help."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, but are you okay?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Feelin' fine," he replies. "Thanks for asking, Andrea." He smiles faintly.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your own brush with Patterson comes at the start of the next period. You see him--his head looming over the heads of all the other students--just outside the classroom. He sees you too, and smiles, and steps in front of the open doorway before you can get through. "Hey Andrea," he says. "You're looking really sexy today. Like always."<br/>
<br/>
"And you're looking like an asshole. Like always."<br/>
<br/>
"I look better in motion. Come watch me at practice after classes." From around his elbow, Jason Lynch peers at you with a lascivious grin of his own.<br/>
<br/>
"I have other things to do." You wish Perry hadn't chosen <i>this</i> kind of invitation; you want to get supplies together to make a mask for Charles.<br/>
<br/>
"I really bug you, don't I? Tell you what, you come watch me today, and I'll give it a rest for a week."<br/>
<br/>
You grimace at the deal you'd made with him last night. "If I come watch, you give it a rest for good."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, but you stay after and let me talk to you."<br/>
<br/>
"You've talked enough. Don't push it." You push past him. But you feel his eyes on you as you settle into the desk, and you look back over at the doorway. He and Lynch are still there, grinning at you. Patterson winks, then turns. He shoves Lynch rudely away, and then shoves him again into the crowd. Students shout, and then are quiet. The press of faces and bodies parts briefly, but long enough to show Sienna Goldman staring into the room at you with her mouth hanging open. You turn away.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
So instead of going home when classes let out, you go to the gym. As you could have predicted, Charles is lingering nearby. "Where you off to now, Drea," he lilts in a knowing way.<br/>
<br/>
"I thought I'd take in a basketball game. Go away."<br/>
<br/>
"I heard you might be coming here. I came along to give you moral support."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't need anything from you, Charles."<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on between you two?" His eyes dance madly. "Could it really be true love? Maybe you didn't do anything last night, and he's-- Or maybe he's really smitten with you?" He covers his mouth. "Oh my God, Drea, what would you do if Steve Patterson were really--"<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up and keep your voice down." You glance around the breezeway. There are plenty of students, and though none of them seem to be paying attention to you, you can guess that a few of them are alert to the scene Charles is causing. "I told you I'd talk to you tomorrow. Go away, or I won't."<br/>
<br/>
He squawks and clutches at you, but you're insistent, and with vast reluctance he turns to go. But not without a parting shot: "You want me on <i>your side,</i> Drea."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Yes, you really do.</i> Just not the way he's thinking.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Practice is boring and unedifying. Big guys and lithe guys scrambling around the court, shoes squeaking on the floor; hoarse shouts and the slap and thump of rubber balls; the decayed stench of sweaty bodies. Steve and Gordon run the team and run it ruthlessly, and you witness several humiliations and lots of degrading little punishments. The only athletes to escape censure are Seth Javits, Kyle Sanders, and the two new players. Frank and Joe, you notice, are extremely capable. Frank moves with power and assurance; and since the Westside team isn't shy about fouling each other during practice, he isn't shy about fouling them back, and at one point he sends Luke Bennett sprawling head first into the bottom row of bleachers. Joe--the blonde one who'd been flirting so hard with Yumi when you first saw him--is very fast and has an amazing ability to squeeze through and around any kind of block. <br/>
<br/>
You sit by yourself high in the bleachers, just below the upper deck that has the weight set, but you can hardly hear the clink and clatter of weights and machinery for all the noise on the floor. There's a smattering of other students on the same side of the court as you, and more on the other side, including two cheerleaders: Gloria Rea and Maria Vasquez. You vaguely wonder why Chelsea isn't here watching Gordon at work.<br/>
<br/>
After an hour practice breaks up and the team troops into the changing room; the rest of the spectators leave through one of the three exit points. You shift in your seat, and hope you can get away from your boyfriend-to-be quickly. Then a voice from above and behind startles you: "Keepin' your end of the bargain, huh?"<br/>
<br/>
You wheel: Jason Lynch leers back at you from one of the weight benches. "T'ain't like <i>he's</i> gonna keep <i>his</i> word and leave you be, Andrea," he says when you don't reply. "You want my advice, you'll skedaddle a'fore he comes back."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe I just want to kick him in the balls," you retort.<br/>
<br/>
He cackles. "Do that. Aw, fuck me, I'll pay you a hundred if you do."<br/>
<br/>
<i>Are you going to have to put up with this asshole too?</i> You rise and go down to the floor, where you slowly pace until team members start to exit. Steve and Gordon are the last to appear, and they both stare at you openly. Patterson nudges his friend, then steps up to you. "What did you think?"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't do any thinking. I was bored."<br/>
<br/>
He smiles, and bends down. "Then how about we go someplace private, and I'll explain the finer points, and how and why I was so awesome."<br/>
<br/>
Over his shoulder, you see Gordon staring back at you, his mouth slightly agape, but his expression intense. <i>Stupid macho games.</i> But you have to be nice to your paramour, if he's going to be nice to you. "Where do you want to go?"<br/>
<br/>
"Little quiet place, here on campus." He jerks his head vaguely in the direction of the famous "fuck room."<br/>
<br/>
You draw a deep breath, and feel your nostrils flare. "Ten minutes, Steve. You have ten minutes to impress me."<br/>
<br/>
"Good. I only need two. Give me ten, and you'll be in love." He rests a gentle hand on the small of your back, and you let him push you gently toward the stairway leading up to the loft. And all the way up you're conscious of your boobs and legs and ass, for you know that's where Gordon and Jason are staring.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The naked Steve Patterson cradles you loosely in his arms, and kisses you gently and warmly on the shoulder. "This is what I do with a girl, when I want her to think I'm maybe-kinda serious about her," he murmurs. "It's for when she was good, and I know I'll want her again in a few days."<br/>
<br/>
"Was I good, Steve?"<br/>
<br/>
"You were great, Andrea. You were too, Prescott. Perfect in front of those douchebags."<br/>
<br/>
"I can't take them, Perry. We have to get rid of them."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh sure, that's easy. You can be Gordon, and Justin can be Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
Or maybe you could just use masks, like you're thinking of using on Charles.</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221122211121122
author_id: seuzz
title: A Conspiracy Within a Conspiracy
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Is Justin going to turn himself into Chelsea?" you ask. You feel a pang of envy. Chelsea Cooper, head cheerleader, the most popular girl in school--<br/>
<br/>
Well, that's the spot she occupies. You're not sure exactly how popular she really is, since she's snooty and bitchy and will shiv anyone who gets in her way. But she has golden hair and tight, bouncy body and dresses to show it all off; and she's dating the captain of the basketball team, and terrorizes all of her fellow cheerleaders. You've been glorying in Andrea's power, but her power is only a fraction of Chelsea's. <br/>
<br/>
"What did you say?" you ask, for you'd missed Perry's muttered reply in your reverie.<br/>
<br/>
"Daydreaming about Chelsea, huh?" he says, and kisses you at the top of your breasts.<br/>
<br/>
"Did you know she and Andrea had a little fling back in their freshman year?"<br/>
<br/>
He kisses you again, then rears back. "Say what?" <br/>
<br/>
You tell him about it--the night at Chelsea's, where she and Andrea had been talking about this and that and boys and the other, and the confidences had begun to flow, some quite emotional on Chelsea's part, and how comforting touches and hugs had gradually escalated until there was some open-mouthed kissing. It had ended with sudden panic on Chelsea's part, and she'd run off, and she and Andrea never had anything more to say to each other. But Andrea is the one girl in school that Chelsea has never crossed.<br/>
<br/>
Perry--Steve Patterson, now--listens with mouth agape. When you're done he falls back and laughs long and softly. "That is so awesome. Oh, fuck, if Justin takes over for Chelsea, maybe you guys could-- You know? And I could watch?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be disgusting." <br/>
<br/>
He takes your hand and pulls you close. You kiss some more and rub at each other, and his cock begins to stiffen again. "But it's settled, that Justin is going to be Chelsea?" you ask in a quick moment when you separate.<br/>
<br/>
"Unh, not decided. We talked. It'd be easier up here. If we handled her and Gordon. And lucky you. You'd be Gordon, have Chelsea--" He grunts, and stops the kissing. "Except you don't want to be Gordon. Black's got a fucked up life."<br/>
<br/>
"How so?"<br/>
<br/>
"His dad's a major league asshole. Uh--" He squirms. "I guess the word 'abuser' might apply."<br/>
<br/>
"What kind of abuse?" you ask in alarm.<br/>
<br/>
"Physical. Mental. I guess. We never really talk about it. It's not something to talk about. But I can tell. He's said things and I've seen things. His dad's a cop, he's a big guy, like Gordon. You know Gordon, always in a bad mood. You don't want that."<br/>
<br/>
"But he's got Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"And she fucks him up too. Mind games. Of course, that wouldn't be a problem once it was Justin inside her outfit." He laughs in a nasty way.<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe there's another way of handling them?" you ask cautiously. Steve raises an eyebrow. "The masks. You know what we did to Steve and Andrea, we put them under masks of ourselves, made them like slaves."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. I saw 'Perry' today. Kinda creepy. You seen Prescott?"<br/>
<br/>
"I wasn't looking. But what if we did the same thing to Gordon and Chelsea? If we made masks of them, and put some of that goop inside the masks, and put them back onto them. Wouldn't that make them into slaves?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno. Wouldn't it just be like if we put our own masks on ourselves?"<br/>
<br/>
"Or we switch them. Put Chelsea's mask on Gordon and Gordon's mask on Chelsea. Just turn them into slaves we could order around without having to <i>be</i> them."<br/>
<br/>
"That's kind of fucked up, Prescott," he says. "I mean--" He looks uncomfortable. "It's bad enough what we're doing to Steve and Andrea. And I don't think Justin would go along with it. That's not his plan."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe he doesn’t have to know," you say, and hug Steve tightly. "It could be our little secret." You kiss him on the side of the mouth. "Justin wants us to bond. Nothing like a shared secret to forge a bond. And maybe--" You reach down to grasp his cock, and press it into yourself. "Maybe <i>we</i> could be Gordon and Chelsea. Not just Steve and Andrea, but Gordon and Chelsea. Secretly. Gordon doing it with Andrea, and Steve doing it with Chelsea, and Andrea and Chelsea doing it with--"<br/>
<br/>
He rolls you over and pushes deeply into you, and slowly thrusts in and out. "You are a dirty, evil-minded girl," he mutters, and gnaws at your shoulder.<br/>
<br/>
"We should test it out," you gasp, and wrap your legs around him. "I know how to. Get me--" You feel a rush, the first you've felt with Steve inside you. "Get a mask from Justin. A blank one. Get the stuff. I'll-- I'll--"<br/>
<br/>
It's not quite a real orgasm, but it's close enough. And Steve's coming is plainly the real thing.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Perry is more reluctant to go along with your idea once he's spent himself and got himself dressed--you and he do have to get home--and he argues about the logistics. "Even if I can get a mask from the dude, how do we talk him into it?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Tell him we're getting ourselves a second."<br/>
<br/>
"Who?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's for me to know. I've got a problem I have to solve. I think I can solve it <i>and</i> test this idea out all at once."<br/>
<br/>
"It's not someone you want to be?"<br/>
<br/>
"It's someone none of us want to be. It's Charles Hartlein." Steve chokes. "Look, he's being a total queen about you and me--Steve and Andrea, I mean. I want to get him out of the way. Better yet, I think maybe I can use him--"<br/>
<br/>
"You want to turn yourself into <i>Charles Hartlein?</i>"<br/>
<br/>
"No!" You cup the breasts straining through your t-shirt. "I like being a girl, and I'll fuck you, Perry, because it feels good, but I'm not gay, and I don't want to be-- Don't look at me like that! I just want to put him under my thumb, so he won't bother me. He's always bugging me."<br/>
<br/>
"Just tell him to go fuck himself. He's a big enough prick he probably could."<br/>
<br/>
"He could be useful." Steve frowns, and you frown back. "I don't know. Just a hunch I have. Charles is full of shit and gossip. The shit I could care less about. The gossip, the nastiness, the rumor spreading?" Again, you're oddly aware of your new body, and the fact that you are one person inhabiting the body of another. "I didn't care about that stuff when I-- When it was me. But Andrea feels like she's in the middle of it. They're all going to be talking about us, Perry. About Steve and Andrea. I want some control over it. That's another reason to put a choke chain on Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
He sighs. "We need to switch you into a guy. Then you won't give a shit." But he agrees to ask Justin for a mask.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Your mother rolls the dice between her hands and drops them onto the board. She grimaces even before she moves the iron onto Marvin Gardens. "It's a filthy capitalist game anyway," she snorts as she hands you the last of her bills.<br/>
<br/>
You smile as you take it. It's real money, not Monopoly money, and you have several thousand dollars in US currency neatly piled up on your side of the board. Heather Varnsworth is a waitress-manager at one of the toniest restaurants in Saratoga Falls, the kind of place where parties of eight or ten regularly drop a hundred dollars a plate on cuisine that isn't much more expensive to prepare than at one of the franchise chains. She is very good at her job, and collects enormous tips on top of a very good salary. But she doesn't like banks, and treats her earnings with the same casual contempt that she would treat Monopoly money. Hence, the drawers of the kitchen are stuffed with-- <br/>
<br/>
About two years ago Andrea became curious about how much cash there was in the house, so she gathered it all up and counted. She stopped long before she was finished, and felt chilled to the bone as she put it all back. Even as a sophomore, Andrea knew it wasn't a good idea to leave more than ten thousand dollars in random bills scattered around a ramshackle house in a down-at-the-heels neighborhood.<br/>
<br/>
But it'll be easy for you to finance a small shopping trip.<br/>
<br/>
Your mom gets to her feet and goes back into the kitchen, probably to get a cigarette to smoke in the back yard. You watch her from under lowered brows. She's in her late thirties, but it's still clear she's where Andrea got her body and looks. She keeps herself fit, and though she's begun to droop in places--and streaks of grey are starting to show in her chestnut hair, and fine lines are visible when she's out of makeup--she is still very good looking. Given the clientele at her work, that's probably another reason she draws large tips.<br/>
<br/>
All those tips would be yours if you used the mask on her.<br/>
<br/>
The doorbell rings, and you jump, even though you're expecting it, and the jaunty double-ring that follows confirms who it'll be. Charles smiles brightly at you after you've got the door open. "I know I'm early, Drea, but I really couldn't wait." He starts to push in past you.<br/>
<br/>
But you block him. "My mom's home, and I don't want to talk about it here," you say, and pick up the bag you'd left by the door. "We'll talk in your car."<br/>
<br/>
You can feel him vibrating with excitement, and he turns eagerly once you're alone. "I wasn't spying," he says. "But I know you were really late leaving school yesterday--"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, fine," you sigh. "We did it over the gym. Again. Several times." Charles squawks. "I think it's serious--"<br/>
<br/>
"Ha! I'll take <i>that</i> bet!"<br/>
<br/>
Are you really going to waste a mask on him, just because he's an ass? Even a useful ass? It would be easier to explain things to Justin if you used it on Heather Varnsworth.</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111222211222111211221
author_id: seuzz
title: Some Pool-side Planning
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Andrea's mom would just give you control over her money; you don't need that much, and as Andrea you can grab some without it being missed. "Sit on your hands, Charles," you tell him as you open your bag. "I'm serious. I don't want you flapping them around while I tell you about it."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, it's that good?" He obliges.<br/>
<br/>
You don't delay, and he has no time to react before you smash the mask onto his face.<br/>
<br/>
Then you see the flaw in your plan. You have the goop to put inside his mask--Justin gave you your own special container--but what if he wakes up before you're done preparing it? You bite your lip. <i>If you had another mask--</i><br/>
<br/>
It says something about how used you are to being Andrea that it takes you almost a full minute to realize that you do have another mask: Andrea's.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're woozy when you wake, and blink long and hard. The clothes feel funny on you, and raise your hands so you won't touch yourself. Charles is still slumped behind the wheel, but there's a glow from his lap. <i>Shit, you were out so long that the mask came out of him.</i> Quickly, you put Andrea's onto him.<br/>
<br/>
It's dark, so you don't see the change, but the figure beside you shifts. You don't say anything, and just pick up Charles's mask. You ignore Andrea as you brush the thin, paint-like mixture into it.<br/>
<br/>
But she won't let you work in silence. "So, are you going to put that thing on?" she asks in a dull voice.<br/>
<br/>
"No. What makes you think I would?"<br/>
<br/>
"You seem to like being with the boys."<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up," you say. That seems to be enough, for she says nothing further.<br/>
<br/>
It's the work of several minutes, and you blow the layer dry. Andrea pulls her head back as you reach for her, but you seize her face, mutter the words, and pull. Then you slip Charles's mask onto him. Your eyes are used to the dark now, so you catch him doing a double-take. "What the fuck--?" he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"Shut up. Do you know who I am?" He says nothing. "Well?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, do you want me to shut up or do you want me to talk?" His tone is peevish.<br/>
<br/>
"Just answer my questions."<br/>
<br/>
"No. Oh, wait." He peers more closely. "I didn't recognize you at first in-- Are those Drea's clothes?" He snickers. "Yeah, I've seen you around, Will Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm your boss, right? You have to do what I say?" You ready your hand, to pull at the mask if he gives the wrong answer.<br/>
<br/>
He makes a choking noise. "Yes. I guess I do. Fuck," he gasps. "What the--"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't worry about it. Just listen to me and do what I say." You press him, and he nods sullenly. "First, don't tell anyone about tonight, about this meeting. If anyone asks, she cancelled on you."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, is that why <i>you're</i> here instead?"<br/>
<br/>
"Don't backtalk me. Second, stop pestering Andrea about her and Steve Patterson. Don't talk about them being together. No, wait." You think a moment. "Look, just ask Andrea what you're supposed to tell people. And call her every night to give her whatever gossip you've picked up, whatever people are talking about with her."<br/>
<br/>
"Wouldn't that count as 'pestering' her?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>Jesus, how lawyerly can a golem get?</i> "Don't ask her about it, and don't chase her around begging for news. Just tell her what you hear. Is that clear?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess." He's very sullen.<br/>
<br/>
"Good. Now go take a walk around the block. If Andrea's in the car when you get back, take another walk. Then go home."<br/>
<br/>
He clucks his tongue and gets out of the car. You breathe a sigh of relief, and quickly put Andrea's mask back onto your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You smile down at the softly lapping water in the Westside natatorium pool. It's Saturday, and normally you wouldn't be able to get in here for a swim. But Steve Patterson has a key to the gym--one of the perks that the coach hands out to his favorite boys--and along with it he has a key to the natatorium. He'd remembered to mention that when he called you in the morning to see about getting together; you'd said you wanted a swim, and he'd replied "Then you're in luck."<br/>
<br/>
So he's there too, and so is Geoff Mansfield--Justin Roth, in actuality. They're both in knee-length swimsuits and t-shirts and flip-flops (in Steve's case) and deck shoes (in Geoff's). You're in street clothes. "You guys like to keep covered up, don't you," you tease. "Ashamed of your bodies?" You smoothly pull off your blouse and unbutton your jeans.<br/>
<br/>
"You know I don't got anything to be worried about," Steve replies. "Mansfield maybe does." He rips off his shirt but makes no further move toward the water.<br/>
<br/>
"Just give me a coupla months to get in shape," Geoff replies. He more carefully pulls off his own shirt. He's soft and formless beneath, with lots of baby fat under his pallid skin. He kicks off his shoes, but like Steve keeps to the side of the pool. "Where's your suit, Andrea?"<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't bring one." You pull off the rest of your clothes, kicking the jeans off your scissor-like legs. "Who needs one, here, today, now?" You turn toward them, full frontal, legs slightly apart so everything is visible. You hold out your hands. "Seize the day, boys." You tense, then do an expert and very clean back-flip into the water. <br/>
<br/>
The others are laughing when you break the surface again. Steve pulls off his own swimsuit and does a rough dive, landing near you. He puts his arm around your waist and draws you close. "Jesus, you're just the girl for me."<br/>
<br/>
"Keep me happy, then," you softly reply, and give his ear a quick nip. "Justin says he wants to 'talk.' You coming in, Geoff?"<br/>
<br/>
He grimaces, and more slowly takes off his suit, and jumps into the water instead of diving. He strokes his way toward you. You lean back and support yourself with a light backstroke while the other two dogpaddle beside you. "So, boys, here we are. Is it everything we were looking for?"<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck me, yeah," Steve laughs.<br/>
<br/>
"For the moment," Geoff says. "Who'd you use that other mask on?"<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't, yet." You sink a little, and grasp onto Steve for support. The water flows smoothly over every inch of your bare body. "I decided you might have ideas."<br/>
<br/>
"It's up to you. It's a weird scene, the three of us being together," he adds thoughtfully. "We should establish some kind of overlap. A common term."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" Steve asks.<br/>
<br/>
"Some link between Mansfield and you two. Someone I could hang out, and they could hang out with you guys. One of you guys. That way it wouldn't look weird when we're all together like this."<br/>
<br/>
"You have to pick a girl, right?" you say. "The girl who's going to be <i>my</i> girlfriend, when I get a guy? So how about someone on the swim team? Jamie, Christine, Bethany, Olivia. Oh, how about Rachel? She's on the debate team with you."<br/>
<br/>
"She's cute, but I want someone who's going to have fun. Like you're having, Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"What about Chelsea?" Steve says.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm not going to be Gordon," you say, and give his arm a warning grip. "You talked me out of that."<br/>
<br/>
"So I'd break up with the moron," Geoff says. "Get Chelsea a new boyfriend."<br/>
<br/>
"It has to be someone plausible," Steve says. His tone suggests he interpreted your message. "I'd be a candidate, but that would really screw things up with Gordon with me."<br/>
<br/>
"And I'm not letting you get away," you say. You clasp tightly to him and turn to Geoff. "You said you wanted us to bond, Justin. Turns out Steve and Andrea are perfect for bonding."<br/>
<br/>
Geoff smiles. You're not sure you like it. But you never liked it when Geoff smiled. "If we're talking 'swim team'," Geoff says, "how about you pick one of the guys you swim with? Nathan Cruz? I could hang out with him."<br/>
<br/>
"He's too quiet, too good. I want to have fun too. An alpha dog. Like Steve here."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh hey, what about one of the new guys?" Steve says. "Frank Durras would be perfect. He's on the team, but he's got classes with Mansfield, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's true," Geoff says. "But maybe Andrea thinks he's too 'quiet', too 'good'."<br/>
<br/>
You just shrug. At the moment, being Andrea, the question of your male ID is of mostly academic interest. "How about you just give me a second mask. If it's our business, Steve and I will figure out our second identities and tell you after we get them. But right now I want to swim." You release Steve, and push off, to do laps.<br/>
<br/>
Patterson chases you, but you outdistance him. Geoff just splashes around in the shallow end of the pool, by himself.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"So do you still have that mask?" Patterson asks you later, when it's just you and him up in the fuck room. You'd broken up with Geoff before going to get some lunch, and you and Steve had taken some deli sandwiches up into the loft. You'd eaten and done some light making out, and you're relaxing now in his arms.<br/>
<br/>
"No, I used it on Charles, like I said. It worked like I thought it would. I asked Justin for another one so he'd think we really were using them like we told him." You have that new mask now, in your bag, for you'd picked it up from his house before getting lunch.<br/>
<br/>
"That still means we're down by one. How are we going to explain that to Justin?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," you admit. "Borrow the book from him, use it to make some more to cover our extras?"<br/>
<br/>
"He won't go for that. I already asked him about borrowing it. He's hanging onto it tight."<br/>
<br/>
You're not actually worried: you have those spell copies you can use. Perry seems nicely wound up in your private schemes. Maybe you should tell him about those copies so he'll stop worrying too.</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112222112221112112211
author_id: seuzz
title: Lofty Expectations
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I don't think I like keeping secrets from Justin," Steve says. "Maybe we should tell him what you did with Charles."<br/>
<br/>
"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," you say. "And it's to help us. If Charles started spreading gossip--"<br/>
<br/>
"Who cares what that faggot--"<br/>
<br/>
"I do. Chelsea could too. Right? You know that, Steve." He grimaces. "That's why we need to do the same thing to her, at least. And if we do it to Gordon too, then that's two more people we could--" You kiss him.<br/>
<br/>
"But we could tell Justin that's why we're-- Oh, but it's not part of the plan." He looks very troubled.<br/>
<br/>
"That's why we keep it a secret. And like I said, we're not hurting him. It's part of his plan, even. It helps us bond, like he wants. Look, you two have a history together," you continue. "You already have a connection. You and I need one. This would be it."<br/>
<br/>
"But how do we get extra masks from him?"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I'm going to tell you another secret. Don't freak out, because I haven't done anything with it." Steve gives you a very narrow look. "A week or so back, you remember, Justin and I switched for a night. He left the book with me, and I stayed up real late and copied out all the spells. So I've got a copy of everything that we need to make more masks."<br/>
<br/>
He stares. "Shit. You mean you could--" You nod. "Oh, Jesus."<br/>
<br/>
"So that's how we could do it. I told him I didn't use that mask he gave me. We could make up another one, to replace the one we used on Charles. And then make two more, to use on Gordon and Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"And more after that," he says dubiously.<br/>
<br/>
"If we want. But probably not. You'd like to have Chelsea, right? A bonus? You and me and Gordon and Chelsea, all of us--" You kiss him again. He groans, but kisses you back.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want you keeping those copies of the spells for yourself," he says when you break off. "Let's keep them up here."<br/>
<br/>
"That's fine with me. Let's go get some supplies. I already have a shopping list." You stand up. "We can get it done this afternoon."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It takes longer than you'd planned to get it all done, for you have to stop by your house to pick up some cash and the spell copies; then run around to almost half a dozen places to get the various supplies; back to the loft, where you stink up the place making three masks (Perry won't let you make more); and then over to Steve's place, to use a buffer to polish up the masks for use. He handles the latter chore while you carve some runes into the metal strips that copy the contents of the victim's mind.<br/>
<br/>
It's the latter that takes the most time, actually, so that although Perry gets the three masks buffed up by six o'clock, you only manage to get two strips done by seven o'clock. "We can finish up tomorrow," Perry says. "I usually hang out on Sundays up in the loft with Gordon and-- Fuck, Lynch'll be there too."<br/>
<br/>
"So, one mask for Gordon and one for Lynch."<br/>
<br/>
"What about Chelsea? And we have to give one back to Justin."<br/>
<br/>
"We can give him one anytime. We can get Chelsea later. The important thing is making sure we have control of the loft, especially if we're going to keep our copy of the book up there."<br/>
<br/>
He chews his thumbnail. "We could always get rid of Lynch," he muses. "I mean, kick him out of the clubhouse. He's a psycho, I never liked him. Chelsea doesn't like him either. He's only up there because he greases up Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you guys were all best friends."<br/>
<br/>
"It's a snake pit up there. Me and Chelsea can't stand each other. I hate Lynch and he hates me. I'm sure Lynch hates Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
You laugh, and Steve looks startled. You feel startled yourself; Andrea is not the type to laugh out loud. But the absurdity of what he's told has provoked it. "You mean Gordon's the only one keeping you guys all hanging together? Well," you say when he just snorts. "Once we get Gordon, I guess you can have him kick Lynch out. So we use the first mask on him."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess." He looks thoughtful. "Gordon's always talking about how there's supposed to be three guys up there, like it's the Three Musketeers. It would feel weird if there wasn't a third guy up there."<br/>
<br/>
"So get a third guy." You stroke his arm. "It could be you and me, and Gordon and Chelsea. And a third guy and a third girl, all hanging out together and--" You rub him harder.<br/>
<br/>
"Or it could be someone for Justin," he says after a moment's thought. "A girl for him and a guy for you. I really think you ought to take one of those Durras guys. The fuck room is supposed to be a reward for guys who do good on the team, and they're good. I wouldn't mind having a leash on them anyway. They can be a handful. Josephine especially."<br/>
<br/>
Again, you shrug, and say you'll think about it. The thing to do is to get Gordon tomorrow. You leave the masks with Steve, and go home.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It's your mom's day off, so you watch TV with her. But you're not so much into it that you're bothered when your phone rings. It's Charles, and you take it in your room.<br/>
<br/>
"Hi Drea," he says in a subdued tone. "I don't know if you want to talk to me anymore, but--"<br/>
<br/>
"You're supposed to call me every night with news."<br/>
<br/>
"Right. Oh, so you know? Was that your idea, because--"<br/>
<br/>
"Just tell me what you know."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, well, in that case, are you going to bed anytime soon?"<br/>
<br/>
"Have you heard any gossip about me and Steve?"<br/>
<br/>
"No. I haven't spread any around, either. Not since last night." He sounds uncomfortable. "But I talked before that. Yell and Sienna are worried about you. I told them not to bother you, to leave that to me."<br/>
<br/>
"Good."<br/>
<br/>
"You know, if you're worried about people talking, it's Chelsea you need to worry about," he blurts out. "She's got this weird thing about her friends and Gordon's friends dating. Are you and Steve really--" He gasps. "Wait, I'm not supposed to bug you about that. But if you are--" He sucks in a sharp breath. "She's going to make it hard for you."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm sure."<br/>
<br/>
"Her and Jason."<br/>
<br/>
"Jason Lynch? What does he care about--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Oh my God, don't you know anything? That closeted queen's one of the biggest gossips in the school!"<br/>
<br/>
"He's not queer, Charles."<br/>
<br/>
"Who's got a fully functional gaydar, Drea, you or me? But he talks, and he's nasty about it. Sometimes I think I'm in love with him."<br/>
<br/>
You shudder at that picture, but then it turns delicious. "Jason Lynch, huh? That's interesting."<br/>
<br/>
"You know <i>you'd</i> get in a lot of trouble if <i>you</i> spread it around about--"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't do that kind of thing, Charles. And it's not interesting. It's just ... Well, <i>interesting.</i>" You can't think of the right word to convey your interest: that Jason Lynch might be someone needing controlling.<br/>
<br/>
"Anyway, if you're only interested in <i>yourself,</i> then that's everything I've got. Now, if you want to hear about, oh, I don't know--" He turns sly. "Kelsey Blankenship and Karl Hennepin." He snickers.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, she's someone else who's got a tongue. But I'll keep my ear to the ground for you."<br/>
<br/>
You thank him and hang up and pad back into the living room. "You haven't had many of your friends over lately," your mom observes as you plop down beside her.<br/>
<br/>
"They're all boring. I get enough of them at school."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"I got that third mask finished last night," Steve says the next afternoon when you meet him up at the school. He nods at the third car in the lot: Gordon's Black's antique VW Bug. "Looks like Lynch hasn't shown yet. We should hurry and get Gordon. Then get Chelsea." He puts his arm around you.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Or Lynch,</i> you think to yourself, remembering last night's conversation. But you say nothing aloud.<br/>
<br/>
"Yo, you got your pants on?" Steve hollers as he opens the door to the loft. Gordon looks up from the gym mat, where's he's lounging with a beer. "Well, take 'em off," Steve continues as Gordon's eye falls on you. "There's a lady present."<br/>
<br/>
"Hey there, Andrea," Gordon says in a low voice, and his eyes glint. "Steve-o been treating you right?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's been awesome," you smile back. "Steve, how about you--"<br/>
<br/>
But he's already swung his pack from his shoulder and unzipped it. He takes out the mask, then trudges over to sit directly onto Gordon. He blocks your view, but there's a flurry of motion, and when he stands up again Gordon is sprawled out, unconscious.<br/>
<br/>
"Nicely done," you say. "He made it easy. But you better take off your mask." You lock the door behind you. "We need to keep him out while we finish his mask," you explain. "Best way is to turn him into Steve while we get that goop inside his mask. Are we going to use your stuff?" From your own pack you take out the containers of sealant--one for Perry and one for you.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't really want to be Gordon--" he starts to say.<br/>
<br/>
"It's not a permanent change," you say. "Just for when we're screwing around. I'd rather be Chelsea anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"You and the girls," he sniggers. "Fine." He lays down, put his hand to his face, and pulls. Perry Small materializes inside Steve Patterson's clothes. He's still out when the mask comes out of Gordon, and you shift Steve's mask onto him. He blinks and sits up.<br/>
<br/>
Before he can speak, there's a rattle from the door. "Hey, you guys makin' out or something?" Lynch's muffled voice calls.<br/>
<br/>
You motion Steve to be silent, and make a quick decision. That third mask for Jason? Or save it for another?</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221122211121122111
author_id: seuzz
title: A World of Possibilities
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>It's the second knock at the door that decides you. Charles's talk about Jason Lynch last night has left you nervous, and now your nerves are vibrating. You pull a second mask from your pack and open the door.<br/>
<br/>
Jason only has time for a double take before you've pulled him into the loft. "Hi Andrea," he says. "I didn't expect to see--"<br/>
<br/>
"I like to pop up in weird places," you say, and press the mask to his face. He's shorter than you, but heavy with muscle, and he slides out of your arm to the floor. You lock the door again.<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck, is this part of the plan?" Steve's golem exclaims.<br/>
<br/>
"It is now." You're pleasantly surprised that the golem seems to understand what's going on, and seems inclined to go along with it. "Can you help me--"<br/>
<br/>
He scrambles over and pulls Jason into the middle of the room. Your heart's beating. Here's another one you need to keep knocked out. Your eye falls on Gordon's mask, which has fallen off golem-Steve's chest. If you can get that one finished off before Lynch's mask comes out of him--<br/>
<br/>
You set to work, and don't look up when Perry calls in a muzzy voice. "Hey, Prescott," he calls again. "Yo, Andrea!"<br/>
<br/>
"I heard you the first time."<br/>
<br/>
"Then what the fuck-- Is that Lynch?"<br/>
<br/>
"He-- She--" Steve starts. "Just smashed a mask onto Lynch when he walked in."<br/>
<br/>
"I saw a chance and I took it," you say. "He was banging on the door. It's just easiest this way."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want that dipshit for myself!"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll use my stuff on him. He'll be my slave. I was talking to Charles last night, and he told me that Jason's a huge gossip too. So I want to--"<br/>
<br/>
"Are you just going to slap a mask on anyone who has a mouth?" Perry yells. "What is so fucking precious about Andrea's reputation that you can't stand to have people talking about it?"<br/>
<br/>
You pause at his challenge, for now that he's put it out, you realize you probably have gone overboard. But you also feel a tug from Andrea's personality. You blink rapidly. Her aloofness--<br/>
<br/>
You've been inside her for several days now, but you're not so lost inside her that you can't stand back and regard her insides from an independent vantage point. Her aloofness, it now strikes you, is in part a defense. By keeping to herself, she doesn't give people stuff to talk about. And the thought of being "talked about" behind her back--<br/>
<br/>
You're still her, in a way, so you shudder.<br/>
<br/>
"Jason will be the last one," you mutter. "I promise. I probably shouldn't have-- But it's too late now." You return to work, quickly brushing the sealant into Gordon's mask.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I guess it does give us the fuck room to ourselves," Perry sighs. "Or, it will, once we get Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe we don't need Chelsea," you say.<br/>
<br/>
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Perry and golem-Steve exchange a glance. "I thought we were going to--"<br/>
<br/>
"Or maybe we do," you hurriedly say. "Chelsea was kind of a two-fer," you admit. "Someone for you and me to play around with, but also someone for me to control. If you don't want me controlling people, Perry--"<br/>
<br/>
"I want--" He pounds the mat with his fist. "Fuck. What is all this about, Prescott? Is this about you and me? Or is it only about you?"<br/>
<br/>
You bite your lip. "It's about Andrea," you stammer. "I like being her. I don't want to worry about anything while I'm being her. Jesus, Perry." You shoot him a hurt glance. "I know what Steve's reputation is. He picks up girls, and he throws them away. People will see him with Andrea, and they'll think she's just his latest tramp." Tears spring into your eyes. "That's what Charles was saying, before I--" You swallow.<br/>
<br/>
Perry gapes, then scrambles over to you. "I'm not going to dump you, Andrea. Fuck, you're so perfect, so awesome." Now it's his turn to swallow, and you can guess why. He's saying these nice things to a <i>guy</i> who's wearing an Andrea-disguise. "The deal is that we're a couple," he says firmly. "And I'll stick to it. Steve Patterson will change his spots."<br/>
<br/>
Behind him, you see Patterson getting a furtive look.<br/>
<br/>
"That's nice of you to say, Perry," you reply. "Though I have to wonder." He frowns. "I mean-- Look, I'll confess I'm having a hard time controlling Andrea's emotions. That's how come I'm--" You blow Gordon's mask dry, and settle back on your haunches to watch Lynch's face for signs of his mask reappearing. "Are you going to be able to control Patterson's urges? Or after a week with me are you going to start looking at other girls?"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll make it solid with you," Perry insists.<br/>
<br/>
Your nostrils flare at the sudden thought. "Unless we want to <i>use</i> his reputation, have fun with it."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"This isn't about Steve and Andrea bonding, right? It's about you and me. It doesn't matter whose faces we do it under, is it, as long as it's <i>us?</i>" Perry nods, but he looks confused. "So why can't you be Steve Patterson, but I be lots of girls. We spend a week as Steve and Andrea. Then you get tired of her, the way he gets tired of all his girls, eventually. I get inside another girl, and you seduce her. And we keep going."<br/>
<br/>
"Whoa." He rears back. "You'd have to be, like, half the girls in the school before the year is out."<br/>
<br/>
"Is there a limit on these things, the number we can make?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know, but that's a lot of lives to steal."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess you're right." Jason's mask appears, and you carefully lift it off him. But you don't put Gordon's mask on him yet. "Maybe I'm just telling you what I'm willing to do for you."<br/>
<br/>
"You just have to be Andrea." He puts out his hand, then shudders and pulls it back. "I can't believe I'm telling a <i>dude</i> that I'll be faithful to him."<br/>
<br/>
"Then don't think about it. Now come on, help me get Lynch out of his clothes. If we put Gordon's mask on him, he'll rip them all to shreds.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
It takes awhile to get everything sorted out, but within half an hour all the masks are where you and Perry want them. Jason's mask is on himself, and you've sent him away with orders to not tell anyone about the ambush up in the loft. Gordon's mask is back on himself, and he's down in the gym lofting a ball around. Perry is back under Steve's mask, and the two of you are sitting cross-legged, holding hands while you talk. "We can get Gordon to call Chelsea, have her come up here," he says. "We've still got one last mask."<br/>
<br/>
"Or we leave her alone. We can take her anytime," you say. "We're supposed to tell Justin who we're going to use that other mask on."<br/>
<br/>
"A girl for me, or a guy for you," Steve muses. "A girlfriend for Mansfield, or a boyfriend for-- But we don't know who Justin's gonna take for a girl."<br/>
<br/>
"There are a lot of eligible guys for me," you say. "Guys like Steve, who aren't nailed down. Any girl for Justin could go with any of those guys. And your girl is supposed to be someone for Geoff."<br/>
<br/>
"He said it's up to me. We talked last night. Mansfield looks all cold and shit, but Justin says he walks around with raging boners. He'll be happy with a--" He makes a face. "I'm not sure I'm looking forward to that."<br/>
<br/>
"Welcome to my world," you tease, and tweak his arm. "So you want a cute, happy, fun-loving girl for yourself? Or some other type?"<br/>
<br/>
"It should be someone who hangs out with you, with Andrea," he says.<br/>
<br/>
"I could make friends with any girl, I suppose." You laugh out loud again, only the second time since being inside Andrea. "You know what would be funny, would be Geoff with Jelena or Fatima or Sienna."<br/>
<br/>
He grunts. "I don't go for those bohemian types, inside or out. Except," he adds after a moment's thought. "Gillian Kiefer. She's cute. Yeah." He groans and leans back, the better to let the erection unfurl. "I could hug and squeeze her and squirt--"<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't she dating Braydon Delp?"<br/>
<br/>
"Isn't Mansfield dating Lisa Yarborough?" he retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Point taken. Yeah, I could hang out with Gillian. She <i>is</i> cute." Andrea's own desires stir, for Gillian--kewpie-cute with her curls and dimples and mischievous eyes and tie-dyed t-shirts--is very much her kind of girl. In fact, you are suddenly so smitten that you nudge Perry away from her. "But the girls on the swim team would make more sense. Rachel would be the most logical."<br/>
<br/>
He purses his lips. "Olivia. Or Bethany. What do you know about them?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not a lot," you admit. "Bethany's the serious swimmer, but she's an airhead. Blonde and all that. She's very silly."<br/>
<br/>
"I could be silly," Steve says in a high-pitched giggle. It is so startlingly out of character for him that you can't even laugh. "Like, omigod, is that, like, water in the pool?"<br/>
<br/>
"She's not that bad. She's sweet. Olivia isn't so sweet. Not that good a swimmer, either. I've thought about cutting her from the team. She does it for the exercise, to keep in shape. That's all."<br/>
<br/>
"I remember her from the junior prom. She filled out the dress nice. Real nice." He leans back again.<br/>
<br/>
"That she does," you agree. She might a good choice for Justin, so again you nudge Perry away. "What about Kim Walsh?"<br/>
<br/>
"Ugh. Too serious. Student government and all that. I'm still thinking about Gillian," he says.<br/>
<br/>
But so are you. You should talk to Justin, push <i>him</i> toward Olivia or Gillian.<br/>
<br/>
"We should grab Olivia or Gillian this afternoon," Steve says. "Show Justin that we're serious."<br/>
<br/>
Or you could distract him by putting the mask onto Chelsea.</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111222211222111211221111
author_id: seuzz
title: Girl to Girl Transfer Protocol
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"I don't want you thinking about other girls," you purr. "I want you thinking about me. I want you thinking about <i>Chelsea.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
Steve looks startled, then grins. "Yeah," he drawls. "I guess there's no hurry. Not as long as we've got--" He jerks his chin at the cabinet where you've got the supplies. "I'll go get Gordon."<br/>
<br/>
"Switch over to Gordon," you call after him. "It'll be easier than telling him what to say to her."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You're hiding behind the crates when the door opens; you're undressed, and are out of Andrea's mask as well. You shiver, partly from the cold, but mostly from anticipation. You hear Chelsea's voice. "So I'm here," she says with weary exasperation. "Can we go now?"<br/>
<br/>
"What's your hurry?" That's Gordon--Perry, actually. "We can hang out here for a little while." The floorboards creak under his heavy tread.<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, I'm not interested in--" Her voice abruptly cuts off.<br/>
<br/>
It had been hard persuading her to come up. Gordon plus her plus the loft minus "all the guys" automatically equals "Let's fuck." That's not always a bad equation, but she and Gordon, Perry discovered after getting his mask on, have been on the outs recently. He got her to come out only after promising that they'd go somewhere else after meeting at the school.<br/>
<br/>
"You can come out now, little dude," Gordon calls.<br/>
<br/>
You peer over the top of the crates. Gordon Black--all six-and-a-half feet of bulging, well-proportioned muscle--looms in the middle of the room. A figure slumps in the crook of his arm, but only for a moment before he lets her drop. He looks up at you.<br/>
<br/>
Gordon isn't ugly. His features are regular, but they are rather hard, and there's a deadness in his eyes. Only the knowledge that it's Perry under there keeps you from shitting as he stares at you.<br/>
<br/>
Even that's not much of a comfort. You're acutely conscious that you don't have Andrea's form wrapped around you, and that he's looking again at the real Will Prescott, who he's never been that fond of.<br/>
<br/>
"You wanna take care of her?" you ask. "We'll have to get her out of her clothes before--"<br/>
<br/>
"You worried about seeing her naked?" Gordon's laugh is brief and guttural. "Think I'll break your face for looking at my girlfriend?"<br/>
<br/>
You laugh back--a little nervously--and hop into the open. Even in a clumsy sprawl, Chelsea looks very good. She's wearing white short-shorts that expose strong, evenly tanned legs. She's wearing a lavender tank-top that tightly binds her large breasts; over it she's got a long-sleeve shirt. A thin necklace drapes around her throat, and her golden curls have fallen across the mat in a cascade.<br/>
<br/>
You squat next to her, to start pulling clothes off. But Gordon grabs your hair, and your scalp lights on fire. "I said you could look, you sad little prick, but if you touch her I'll fold you in half and shove you down a toilet."<br/>
<br/>
"Perry!" you squawk.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, I'm just shittin' you. Have fun with her," he says, releasing you. "Wanna beer before you get to work?"<br/>
<br/>
"After." You glance up fearfully at him, but he's already crouched by the dorm-sized fridge by the near wall. So you turn back to Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
Your fingers don't want to work as you untie her shoes, and with them trembling it's hard to get her shoes and socks off. You unbutton her shorts and tug them down, exposing a silk thong. You leave it on for the moment, though, and tackle the shirts. You have to turn her over, and she's surprisingly heavy. Gordon grunts and shoves you aside, to rudely flip her onto her face. But then he flops onto the floor and guzzles thirstily at his beer, leaving the rest to you.<br/>
<br/>
You pull the long-sleeve shirt off; it's harder getting the tank top off, since you have to arrange her arms and head to pull it over and off. That just leaves her in the bra and thong. You unhook the former, and are struck by-- "She hasn't got any tan lines."<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, she likes laying out in the buff," Gordon laughs. "Got that high wall around the pool at her house. She won't let me come over when she's sunbathing, though. Bitch."<br/>
<br/>
But fall is already coming, dammit, so you won't get a chance to do that yourself. You pull the thong off, leaving her bare, firm ass entirely unencumbered. The sexiness is ruined a little as she lets out a little fart as you shift her legs. Then you turn her back over.<br/>
<br/>
You almost swallow your tongue to look at her. It's as glorious as you've ever imagined. Flawless, golden skin; a trim tummy; beautiful globes on her chest. Your eye travels down to the little tuft of hair. You don't dare touch her. Not yet.<br/>
<br/>
You settle back, sitting next to Gordon. He hands you the beer, and you take a long pull while still staring at Chelsea. "It's fun, isn't it," he says. "She likes it when I undress her. She likes to be awake for it, though." You say nothing, though, and just stare until your eyes water.<br/>
<br/>
The mask reappears, and you flip it off her face and put Andrea's on her. Her form lengthens, and then it's Andrea Varnsworth there: longer, slimmer, tauter, browner. She opens her eyes, and gives you and then Gordon a hooded look. "So am I just supposed to lay here while you guys ogle me?<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," you gasp. "I mean--" You turn to Gordon. "What do we do with her? I was going to spend the afternoon as Chelsea with you. So do we send her--"<br/>
<br/>
"Keep her here," Gordon says. "Be fun having--" He stretches out a meaty paw to grab one of her breasts, but she slaps it hard. He pulls back with a snarl. "Tell your bitch here I can touch what I want when I want."<br/>
<br/>
"Be nice to Gordon," you order Andrea. "He's your friend. We're all going to be friends." Her face darkens, but she doesn't argue. "Okay, you two have fun. I'll finish up Chelsea's mask." You scramble out of the way as Gordon draws up next to Andrea; she sits up and lets him take her in his arms. <br/>
<br/>
You go back around the crates, for it's not an appetizing sight. You ignore the quiet noises on the other side of the barrier as you bend over the new mask, applying a layer of sealant. "I'm getting ready to come back as Chelsea," you call when you're done.<br/>
<br/>
"Go ahead," Gordon calls back. "I can keep busy."<br/>
<br/>
<i>I bet you can,</i> you think. You lay back and close your eyes as you put the mask to your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The world feels sharp when you wake from a muffled sleep. <i>What the fuck--</i> An acrid odor hits your nose, and wrinkle it. <i>Oh God, that stink!</i><br/>
<br/>
Half of it comes back to you: the call from Gordon and the tiresome trek up to the school. Him standing there with that expectant gloat on his face. You'd had half a mind to--<br/>
<br/>
Then the other half floods in, and you settle back on your elbows. You breathe in deeply, and watch your breasts rise and fall. <i>Mmm.</i> You smile, and feeling no shyness reach up to grab one. It's so firm in the palm of your hand, and the nipple tingles. You touch it with a fingertip. <i>Oh, that's nice.</i> But not as nice as--<br/>
<br/>
Your hand shoots down to your crotch, and you stroke yourself. You lick your lips. <i>Yes.</i> You've been lonely down there. If Gordon wasn't being such a fuckhead about Seth and Cindy, you wouldn't have had to starve him. You've been starving yourself, though. But that's all over. Now he's bound to do like you've been begging him--<br/>
<br/>
You turn your head at a sound. <i>Oh God, you left him alone with Andrea. He's probably--</i> Rage and vengeful jealousy shoot through you, like a molten spear. You jump to your feet and scramble around the crates. There he is, and he's got his shirt off now, and Andrea is sitting in his lap, and he and she are kissing deeply.<br/>
<br/>
"Excuse me," you say in your sweetest and most grating voice. "If I can have a word with my boyfriend for a moment, Andrea."<br/>
<br/>
They break off, and look back at you. Andrea looks furtive; Gordon just grins. "There you are, Chels," he says. "Sit down. Help out."<br/>
<br/>
You smile tightly, and fight back Chelsea's native anger. This is the kind of scene you'd been planning, after all. But you can't fully shake the sense of violation. Perry is supposed to be doing it with <i>you,</i> not with the cheap Andrea knockoff you left in your place.<br/>
<br/>
You kneel behind him and knead his hard shoulders and neck. "I'd rather it just be the two of us," you say. "At first. Get reacquainted with each other, you know. After that, maybe we can."<br/>
<br/>
"Can Andrea watch us?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"No. Send her home."<br/>
<br/>
"What, are you going to go home as Chelsea?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why not? I'm here."<br/>
<br/>
"What if Justin calls Andrea, looking for you?"<br/>
<br/>
That's a point, but you want to throttle him, not thank him for pointing it out. "Send her down for a swim. Get dressed, Andrea. Go to the natatorium."<br/>
<br/>
She struggles to comply, but Gordon keeps a tight hold of her. "What's your deal? I thought we were going to-- Look, you're not going to <i>act</i> like Chelsea, are you?"<br/>
<br/>
"And what's wrong with Chelsea, exactly?" you archly demand.<br/>
<br/>
"Plenty," he chortles. "God, it feels good to finally be able to say that."<br/>
<br/>
You bridle, but he's got a point. Chelsea is just supposed to be a spare source of fun, not an identity.<br/>
<br/>
But why not? The chances that Justin will call are very remote; you can always have Andrea turn her phone off.<br/>
<br/>
Until tomorrow morning, even, when you can meet just before school to switch back.</span></div></div>


path: 11331121112222112221112112211111
author_id: seuzz
title: The Girl Who Runs Things
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You squeeze and massage the top of Gordon's shoulders. He's massive, and rock hard up there. "Isn't that half the fun of doing it with Chelsea? That you're doing it with <i>Chelsea?</i> Not just with some lookalike?"<br/>
<br/>
Gordon twists his head around to peer up at you. "You're talking about role-playing? For serious?" You nod. "Fuck. Get rid of Andrea, and we'll talk about that. Fucking, I mean." Gordon grunts, and relaxes his hold on Andrea. <br/>
<br/>
"Go home, Andrea," you tell the golem. "Turn your phone off, but check online for messages from me. And come to school early tomorrow. Like, seven o'clock. I'll meet you outside the natatorium."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, Chelsea," she says, and rises from Gordon's lap. You watch her as she gets dressed. Waves of jealousy ripple through you. She looks so good, so naturally, athletically good. Not like you, who have to work and sweat and watch your diet and forgo all the really good things to eat so you can keep this figure. As Will Prescott you tell yourself that Chelsea has nothing to be jealous of--Andrea's sexiness is just of a different kind--but she does look very good as she effortlessly draws on her clothes. "I think you're staring at her harder than me," Gordon grumbles.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't blame you for hitting on her," you reply. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean around to kiss him on the cheek. "I don't blame her, either. You're a hunk and a half."<br/>
<br/>
"How much role playing are we supposed to do?"<br/>
<br/>
"Enough to make it fun." Andrea exits, and you swing around to sit in Gordon's lap, your arms still draped loosely around his neck. "We've been fighting, you know. I'm tired of it."<br/>
<br/>
"Me too."<br/>
<br/>
"So you know what you could do to stop the fighting, right?" You peck at his lips. "It's just a tiny little thing."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, God, we're not going to role-play <i>that</i>, are we?"<br/>
<br/>
"Stop talking about role-playing. This is serious. Help me bust up Seth and Cindy."<br/>
<br/>
"You're serious about that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Just tell me what I want to hear." You kiss him again.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't have to actually do it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I didn't hear that," you tell him, and press your face into his neck. "Don't say it again. Just tell me--"<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, I'll bust them up for you, Chelsea. Me and Steve--"<br/>
<br/>
"You'll tell him he has to dump the tramp, or he's off the team?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah."<br/>
<br/>
"Tell me how you'll do it, Gordon." You wrap your legs around him and burrow more deeply against him. "You make me so hot and wet when you--"<br/>
<br/>
"We'll pull him up here tomorrow. We'll punch him until he understands. It's Cindy or the team. And if he picks Cindy, he won't be able to walk the halls without getting his face shoved into the walls."<br/>
<br/>
"He has to dump her hard," you gasp. "Right in front of everyone. He has to call her a dirty, dripping cunt--" His cock comes between you, and you giggle. "You like thinking about dirty, dripping cunnies, don't you? And mine is-- Oh, Gordon, help me get out of these--"<br/>
<br/>
His hands and yours fumble over your clothes, pulling them this way and that. Somehow you get them all off, and then he lays back and you mount him, sliding onto his shaft with quick, throaty gasps. "I've missed this so much, Gordon. I've been so pissed at you, but every night, in bed, I've been--" You slide up and down, and he pumps from below. He swells more and more inside you, prying open tight spots. You quicken in a chasing rhythm, pulling each other. He comes first, and he almost throws you off. But as he winds down, the spasms rocket through you. Your voice cracks with little shrieks, and you dig sharp fingernails into the hard flesh at his shoulders. Then you collapse onto him, and burrow into his torso, cooing and groaning into his neck.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Perry had been skeptical when you'd told him that you were planning to spend the rest of the day and night as Chelsea, but you'd been insistent. "We're going to make a splash tomorrow," you tell him afterward, when you are dressed and freshening up your makeup. He is back inside Steve, and you brush off his attempts to paw you. "Steve and Andrea. People have to be prepared, and Chelsea is perfect for that. In fact--" You frown. "Does it have to be <i>me</i> under Andrea's mask tomorrow? Can't you just do it with the golem? I can give her the right orders."<br/>
<br/>
"You don't want to be there with me?"<br/>
<br/>
"I want to manage it, and Chelsea's the best place to manage it from. Making sure that people know what to think and what to say. Otherwise--"<br/>
<br/>
"You sure are taking this seriously. It's not D-Day."<br/>
<br/>
"It practically is!" you insist. "Steve and Andrea? You are serious about her, aren't you, Steve?" He looks bewildered. "It's for your own good, too. People are going to talk about <i>you</i> as well as Andrea. I think it's so <i>wonderful</i> that you're--" You dimple at him. "A girl has finally caught Steve Patterson's heart. Who'd have thought he had one to catch?"<br/>
<br/>
"Who's that talking?" he demands.<br/>
<br/>
"Me, of course. Chelsea thinks Steve's an asshole, and she'd do everything she could to fuck things up for him if we hadn't-- But <i>I'm</i> Chelsea now. Well, for the next twenty-four hours or so, just to make sure she's on our team. And if she could fuck it up for us, she could also smooth the way."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't see why it's such a big deal--"<br/>
<br/>
"When you get inside a girl, Perry," you say in your most withering tone. "You'll <i>see.</i> And then it'll be me and Justin trying to keep <i>you</i> from going overboard."<br/>
<br/>
"You're certainly going overboard."<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea goes overboard with everything." You check yourself out in your iPhone, using it as a mirror, turning your face this way and that, peering for little imperfections. "I mean, my God, can you imagine wanting to break up Seth and Cindy just because-- Well, Cindy <i>is</i> a bitch, and she makes running the team way too hard, because, you know, her <i>sister</i> was head cheerleader, like thirty years ago." You roll your eyes. "You remember Lucy? Oh, what am I saying, of course you do." You put the phone away and smile at him. "How do I look?"<br/>
<br/>
"Cute enough to throttle."<br/>
<br/>
"I know," you laugh. "You don't get to be the most popular girl in school by being likable!"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
No, you get to be the most popular girl in school by riding the other popular girls with a whip and spurs. Even as you're striding across the parking lot to your car, boobs sticking proudly out, you're mapping out how you're going to handle the unveiling of Steve and Andrea, and you flush with anticipation. You even dip your hand briefly between your legs after you've gotten into your car, because it's going to be so much <i>fun.</i><br/>
<br/>
Reverse psychology is Chelsea's strong suit--so she thinks; you've doubts even as you relax into her proud persona--and the present situation will call for reverse psychology inside of reverse psychology. Even before you're halfway home, you've got your phone out. "Kendra," you say in your most businesslike tone when Chelsea's top lieutenant picks up. "What have you heard about Steve and Andrea?"<br/>
<br/>
"Steve Patterson?" she says. You wonder if you've woken her from a nap, for she sounds addled. "Steve and who?"<br/>
<br/>
"Andrea Varnsworth," you snap. "You know any other Andreas worth worrying about? What have you been hearing? You're supposed to be keeping an ear open for anything with Steve."<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't heard anything about him and Andrea," she says. "You mean, like, them--?"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course. And cut the bullshit. If I'm only now catching up to it, that means half the school's already heard, and you're falling down on your job!"<br/>
<br/>
She protests that she's heard nothing about the two of them, but don't believe her, and lay into her good and hard. Gloria Rea, your other top lieutenant, at least has the presence of mind to mention the few snatches she's heard and seen: that Patterson hit on Andrea Friday, and that she was at practice that afternoon, watching him. "I didn't think anything about it, Chelsea," she insists. "You know what Andrea's like, and what Steve's like. He's been--"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, he's got her hooked," you fume as you pull into the driveway and shut off the car. "I just got back from dealing with Gordon--I can't believe I'm hearing about this from <i>that</i> lunkhead--and Steve and Andrea were up there in that loft of theirs on Saturday and Sunday <i>both.</i>" Gloria gasps. "Honestly, Steve's probably high-fiving the ceiling and making out with his own reflection in the mirror." You dodge over to check yourself out in the rear-view mirror. Still Chelsea Cooper, and still gorgeous. "This is, like, perfect, you know."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean? I don't want that water witch hanging around with--"<br/>
<br/>
"Like we have to worry about that," you sneer. "Like you say, we know what Steve is like. We need to put his cock in a vise, make sure he dumps her. Because you're right, the last person I want-- Ycchhh!" You shudder elaborately and vocally into the phone. "Make her hurt too. I don't want to see her face anywhere close by when it's over."<br/>
<br/>
"You have an idea what to do?" Gloria asks guardedly. "Find someone to distract Steve with?" Well might she speak with a tone of dread in her voice: Chelsea has forced her and Kendra both, in the past, to sleep with Steve as part of her schemes for keeping him leashed. <br/>
<br/>
"No, we do the opposite. Make like we think he's serious about her, and that he <i>ought</i> to be serious about her. Steve Patterson's finally found a girl, and isn't he lucky?" You laugh. "By the end of the day he'll be gasping for air."<br/>
<br/>
It's perfect. So perfect that you think you really should be running things tomorrow as Chelsea.</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221122211121122111111
author_id: seuzz
title: A Door Closes But a Window Opens
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You're having too much fun as Chelsea to let her go. Besides, you've another "confederate" to work with at setting things up.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Charles is slouched in his living room, but he sits up straight when he sees you come in. Well might he be surprised: He and Chelsea Cooper cordially loathe each other, and have as little to do with each other as possible. You'd thought about bringing "Andrea" along to make the visit more plausible, but just went for the direct approach. "Charles," you say with a nod. "Can we talk in private?"<br/>
<br/>
He nods unhappily, and gestures you to follow him into the back. The mess in his bedroom surprises you, for you'd have him pegged as a neat freak. "You know Will Prescott, don't you?" you ask when he's got the door shut. He nods again. "I've got a message from him, so you'll do what I say."<br/>
<br/>
"I had a feeling it was going to be something like that," he mutters.<br/>
<br/>
"Really?" That surprises you. "Do you know who I am?"<br/>
<br/>
"I know who you're looking like," he says. "As for who you are--"<br/>
<br/>
"You mean you have to do what I say?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes." The word stretches before falling to the ground between you.<br/>
<br/>
<i>That's a nice surprise. Maybe the golems recognize your presence even when you're in disguise.</i> "It's about Andrea Varnsworth. You know that she and Steve Patterson have started dating."<br/>
<br/>
"Officially?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, though no one is going to know about it until tomorrow. We don't want anyone making trouble for them, and that includes you. So spread it around that you think they're made for each other. It's a real coup for both of them, and they'll be perfect together."<br/>
<br/>
"Okay,"  he says dubiously. "Is that all?"<br/>
<br/>
You cock your head, and gloat to yourself. "I want you and me to be friends, Charles," you say softly. "Secretly. You know an <i>awful lot</i> about what goes on at the school, things that <i>I</i> would love to know. Keep me up to date on things. Write me up a big fat email with all the secret, juicy stuff, and send it to me. Send me updates every day, too."<br/>
<br/>
"Am I still supposed to update Andrea?"<br/>
<br/>
<i>That confirms that he recognizes your presence under Chelsea's face.</i> "It's all going to the same person," you smirk. "So just send it to me. You know. Chelsea." You tap your chest.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
And that's just the start. Chelsea gets most of her news via Kendra and Gloria, and people are careful around them. You'll be able to get a lot from Charles, but there are lots of other people you could plug into, using the same trick you've stumbled onto with Charles.<br/>
<br/>
So you drive back up to the school--Chelsea has her own key to the loft--and make half a dozen more masks and mind strips, and spend the rest of the day working on them, even to the point of ignoring the text messages that keep coming in to your phone. You're able to get two masks fully finished before going to bed. <br/>
<br/>
Tomorrow, you'll start adding Victoria Rodriguez (what an irony!), Almida Jones, Anita Nuevo, Jenny Ashton, Kelsey Blankenship, and Kim Walsh as playthings. You'll have the entire school wired. Even after you've switched back to Andrea, through Chelsea you will know <i>everything</i> that goes on at the school.<br/>
<br/>
Not until you're getting ready for bed do you pause to wonder why you want this espionage web. The answer comes when you stare at yourself in the mirror: It's Chelsea Cooper doing the thinking for you.<br/>
<br/>
Well, let it be that way. It's the least you can do for Chelsea, even a fake one: Give her what she always would have wanted anyway!<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The next morning goes off perfectly. You'd called all the other cheerleaders and told them to be at practice early, so they're all milling around the front of the gym when the players troop out from changing. Andrea comes down from the bleachers, and you watch intently from the corner of your eye as she goes over to Steve, taking him in her arms. He embraces her back, and they kiss deeply and lustily.<br/>
<br/>
A ripple runs through the girls, and you whip it up with lots of "Ohmygods!" and "Did you see that?" It's not only the girls that are excited. The basketball guys are deeply impressed as well, and the last thing you see before pulling your squad into the changing room is Joe Durras with his hand on Steve's arm, leaning in with a lascivious, enquiring grin.<br/>
<br/>
And then the roof falls in, just after second period. A very subdued Steve calls you, telling you to come up to the loft. There's some kind of emergency. That doesn't worry you: It's an excuse to cut class.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You gasp and step back after opening the door to the fuck room. It's crowded with people you wouldn't expect to find here. Okay, it's no surprise to find Perry and Justin here, but they've also got their replacements on hand, so that there are two Perrys and two Justins. You stare at another unexpected figure--Will Prescott--and then--<br/>
<br/>
<i>Jesus! Chelsea Cooper is here!</i> She's sprawled on the floor, and her eyes are nearly popping out of her head as she looks at you.<br/>
<br/>
But the loft is dominated by two other guys: Frank and Joe Durras. "Is that him?" Frank says.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know where else he'd be," one of the Perrys says quietly.<br/>
<br/>
"What--" Before you can finish, you're pulled off your feet and dragged across the rough floor toward Frank.<br/>
<br/>
Joe kneels by you, his eyes merry. "If you're going to play doubles, this is the one to play it with," he laughs.<br/>
<br/>
"That's--! Ohmigod, when you said--! That's <i>me</i>!" Chelsea shouts.<br/>
<br/>
"That's what we told you, Chelsea," Frank says. "Now keep quiet."<br/>
<br/>
"But how did--? Who's--?"<br/>
<br/>
Frank clenches his fist, and Chelsa gasps and chokes. Her face turns cherry red. "I asked you to be quiet," he says. "If you will keep your mouth shut, I'll let you breathe again. Nod if you understand."<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea bobs her head, sucks in a huge breath, and deflates. But when she raises her head again, it's to stare at you with pure murder.<br/>
<br/>
You've no idea what's going on, but you've got Chelsea's nerve, so you've the nerve to bluff. "Frank! Joe! What's going on? Who's--? That's <i>me</i> over there!"<br/>
<br/>
"Cut the bullshit, Prescott," Frank snaps. "We know who you really are, and what's been going on. Your friends have been filling us in. You took things a little farther than them, but it stops now."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know what you're talking about," you plead.<br/>
<br/>
"Joe, you remember those special words Small used to take Patterson's mask off? Good. Get Chelsea's face off Prescott."<br/>
<br/>
"Shouldn't he take those clothes off first," Joe asks. "If he changes back while wearing those, he'll tear them all to--"<br/>
<br/>
Frank punches him. "Stop looking for excuses to see the girl naked."<br/>
<br/>
"Wait, I can--" You interrupt as Joe leans in on you. "Okay, I'll come clean, I'll take it off. But what's going on?"<br/>
<br/>
"What's going on, Prescott," Frank says, "is that we're putting a stop to all your shenanigans. We'll also be taking that book you found, and you and your friends will go back to being yourselves."<br/>
<br/>
You stare at him, and then swing toward Justin. "What you just standing there for? Are you just going to let them--?"<br/>
<br/>
"They're too smart to put up a fight," Frank says. "We gave 'em a taste of what we can do. Looks we'll have to do the same for you."<br/>
<br/>
He twitches his hand, and all the blood rushes to your head as you're hauled ass first into the air. A Chelsea-like scream bursts from your throat as you hang upside down. Something is firmly grasping your ankles, but it's invisible, whatever it is. And that's the last you see--your ankles pinned near the ceiling--before Joe's hand closes over your face.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
The story that emerges afterward is short and confusing, but you grasp it well enough to understand that this is the end of your adventures with that goofy book. Frank and Joe, who despite their youth seem to be magicians of a sort, will be taking everything and leaving you and your friends back in the cold as yourselves. "They'll kill us, you know," Perry says when it's clear that Gordon and Steve and Jason and Chelsea and Charles and Andrea and Geoff will be reappearing. <br/>
<br/>
"Not our problem," Frank retorts.<br/>
<br/>
"Give 'em a head start on running," Joe says from the cabinet, where he's looking through the spell copies you had made. "We need to debrief the victims anyway. These three might try getting away in the meantime. But don't run far." He gives you a penetrating glance. "There's a few loose ends that need tying up."<br/>
<br/>
After a little more debate and some groveling by your trio, Frank and Joe agree to talk your victims into not doing anything really bad to you. You and Perry and Justin are very quiet and very white in the face as you leave the loft, just in time for lunch. "We'll have to quit school," Perry says with a tremble in his voice. "Guys, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I just started spilling everything to Joe this morning right after practice."<br/>
<br/>
"It's probably for the best," Justin says quietly. "We could have done a lot worse than we did. We'll just have to pay the price."<br/>
<br/>
It's not a price you're keen to pay, no matter what promises Frank and Joe make. They have those spell copies you made, but they don't know--and you didn't volunteer--that you have some extra masks and stuff back at Chelsea's. You might still be able to hide, if you move fast enough.</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111222211222111211221111111
author_id: rugal
title: The Saratoga Falls Job
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>"Maybe we don't have to pay that price." you say quietly. Justin and Perry look at you quizzically so you speak a little louder but trying to make sure nobody overhears you; probably nobody here at lunch knows what's going on but word spreads and spreads fast and you doubt someone like Chelsea would "go easy" on you no matter what those two guys say. "Like I said, maybe we don't have to pay that price." you reiterate.<br/>
<br/>
"How?" Justin's response is forceful, more of a demand than a question.<br/>
<br/>
"When I was Chelsea yesterday I kind of, I don't know, I got sucked into her personality right? And she, I, thought it'd be great to have kind of an informant network." you look to see Justin staring intently, Perry slightly less so. Probably still guilt you assume, "Well yesterday I wound up making up a bunch of masks and strips, six I think."<br/>
<br/>
"Six?!" Perry says and you and Justin both tell him to quiet down.<br/>
<br/>
"Six masks, six strips... I think I get where you're going." Justin states as he leans forward and props his chin in his hand.<br/>
<br/>
"Right?" you say, a bit of a hopeful tone in your voice, "But getting new identities might be hard. I mean you have to make that stuff to put in the masks and the book is gone."<br/>
<br/>
"Those... golem masks, I guess, aren't a problem. A spoonful of graveyard dirt, hair, fuel, and you're good to go." he gets a thoughtful expression, his eyes almost looking past you, "We'd just have to make sure we choose our identities wisely. We don't really have the time to make a bunch of new masks." He then turns his attention back to you, "You didn't leave them up in the loft did you?"<br/>
<br/>
You shake your head and a wave of relief washes over them... and like any wave it washes away with what you say next. "They're, uh, they're at Chelsea's."<br/>
<br/>
"Chelsea's?! How the fuck are we supposed to get them then?!" Perry's words come out in a loud whisper.<br/>
<br/>
"We go there and take them." Justin replies as Perry and you turn to him, "We all know where Chelsea lives right? Not like it's any kind of secret. She'll be at school so we just cut, drive out there, and get them."<br/>
<br/>
"And what happens when they all figure out we've ditched?" asks Perry.<br/>
<br/>
Justin just shrugs, "That's why we work fast, hopefully we can get set up before they catch on or find us."<br/>
<br/>
"It's not Chelsea and Gordon and them I'm worried about," you state, "it's those other two guys; Joe and Frank. I mean what the fuck did they do to me in the loft?" You turn to Perry, "And you said that you started blurting everything to Joe this morning right Perry? There's something going on with those two and I don't like it. I mean, fucking magic and shit! They seriously make me uncomfortable."<br/>
<br/>
Justin nods, "Yeah, we've already invoked the wizards' wrath once. That's why we have to be quick about it."<br/>
<br/>
"How do we get in, anyway? I don't think the Coopers, whoever's there, will be inviting us in and Chelsea's room is up on the second floor anyway." You wonder if bringing this up was even a good idea.<br/>
<br/>
"You and Perry head over there." Justin says pointing at the both of you, "I'll run home and grab a ladder, maybe some other tools if we can't get in that way and have to go through the front. A shovel and a bag for the dirt, a gas can..."<br/>
<br/>
"Jesus Christ, B and E?!" you reply.<br/>
<br/>
"Nothing wrong with it. Besides, our lives here are fucked so what do we have to lose?"<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
This is insane. You're standing at the top of a ladder in the backyard of the Cooper household peering through the drapes into Chelsea's room. <i>"I should've never opened my mouth."</i> you think as you try lifting the window up; it won't budge. Another attempt is fruitless. "Guys I think it--" you call down as you give it another attempt and the window pushes upwards. Alright, not locked, just stubborn. Wonderful.<br/>
<br/>
You climb through and stand there for a moment trying to remember where exactly you put all of that stuff before remembering that they were under the bad. You look under and sure enough you're able to pull out six masks and six mind bands. Only two are complete so it's going to take a little bit of buffing to get them set but with a power buffer shouldn't take too long hopefully. You stuff it all into your backpack and head back outside. Once you're down there are congratulations and sighs of relief all around before heading out to cemetery.<br/>
<br/>
Thankfully, since the golemizing stuff only calls for a spoonful of graveyard dirt according to Justin, It only takes a couple of minutes to get the dirt. Just to be safe you fill up a bag since you'd rather have too much than not enough and then it's off to Maize's. Justin's got a key and you're surprised that Maize himself isn't anywhere to be found. When asked about it Justin just reiterates that Maize wanted out but adds he wouldn't mind them crashing there for a little bit.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Alright so where do we go from here?" you ask as you take a break from buffing. It's been about two and a half hours and you have all but one of the masks done so you've decided to take a small break to hash out just where you're going to go. "I mean we can't just go back to Westside right? Not with those guys there."<br/>
<br/>
"You think they'd be able to find us?" Perry asks, "If we went back there, I mean."<br/>
<br/>
Justin, for the second time today, shrugs. "Fact is we don't know what those two are capable of. You saw what they did to Prescott, that was for a simple shakedown."<br/>
<br/>
"You're saying you don't know if they'd try to kill us if they found out." you reply, a chill running down your spine. "Okay so Westside's out. So where else do we go, Eastman? I don't know how we'd get over there. I mean it's not like I know anybody who goes there."<br/>
<br/>
Justin sighs, "Look Prescott, just because <i>you</i> don't know anyone doesn't mean we don't. You remember when you came to me with that shit about the starting a band?" Perry suppresses a snicker and you both ignore him, "Like I said at the time, there's this guy I know, sort of, that goes there; Adam Karter. He's kind of a prick but he's an in."<br/>
<br/>
"So that's one guy, but what about the other two?" asks Perry.<br/>
<br/>
"Dude's a playboy. Hornier than a rhino and twice as dirty but the girls love him, I've seen that shit first hand. He's got an easy time pulling in tail so if you guys don't mind having vaginas I could probably charm a pair of hiding spots for the two of you."<br/>
<br/>
"How would you even get him?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"We run a lot of the same stomping grounds, I know where he's likely to be."<br/>
<br/>
"Those two guys, Frank and Joe, they came from Eastman right?" you ask, "Or rather, they said they had loose ends to tie up and that probably <i>includes</i> Eastman. So what if they go back there to do that and, I don't know, sniff us out like some kind of magic bloodhounds?"<br/>
<br/>
"You think that'd happen?" Justin asks, "I think you're being a bit paranoid about that."<br/>
<br/>
"Maybe, I dunno, this whole shit has got me freaked out. But even still, maybe it's better if we go somewhere else; somewhere they wouldn't expect." you say.<br/>
<br/>
"And where's that?" it's Perry's turn to chime in<br/>
<br/>
You give it a second of thought before turning to Justin, "You were me for a while so you know I've got a brother, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah," Justin nods, "But I don't..." he stops and realization sinks in, "We copy your brother and from there go to Schuyler."<br/>
<br/>
"The fucking middle school?!" if Perry's been good for anything all afternoon it's astonished utterances, "Christ no way man. I don't want to be some fucking kid again. Shit we wouldn't even be able to drive! There's no freedom at all there and if one of us winds up in deep shit..."<br/>
<br/>
You sigh, "I know I know but that's why nobody would expect it right?" you look around at the other two and lower your head, "No, you're right. Fuck, I just... my head's spinning. This shit's my fault, if I hadn't gotten so greedy..."<br/>
<br/>
"Look, what's done is done alright?" comes Justin's voice as he grabs the last mask and the power buffer. "Once we get this thing done we'll check around some of Karter's haunts. Hopefully find him and some others before those assholes come a' callin'."<br/>
<br/>
As Justin works on the mask you become lost in thought. You probably are being overly paranoid about the Eastman thing but could anyone really blame you? You really don't know what Frank and Joe would do if they found you... defying them, for lack of a better word. You're not sure what they meant by loose ends and you're not sure you want to know. Schuyler's out and Justin and Perry seem to have their minds made up but you? If those guys do anything to you you'll never see anyone again. Your mom, your dad, Robert, Umeko.<br/>
<br/>
Umeko... fuck! That's it! Umeko goes to Keyserling, the college is probably the last place those guys would look and you'd have a bit more freedom probably to Perry's relief. Though she gets your stomach fluttery, you and Umeko are tight. You could probably call her up, have her meet you somewhere, make a switch and then find somewhere for Justin and Perry. But you stop, again you're probably being overly paranoid. You'd be fine at Eastman most likely and besides, you care about Umeko too much. You didn't want that done to Lisa so you wouldn't be able to do it to her as well... would you?</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221122211121122111112
author_id: seuzz
title: The First Day With Your New Beau
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You balance evenly between twin desires: to be the center of attention as Andrea, or to stage-manage things as Chelsea. Reluctantly you come down on the side of returning to Andrea. But there's still some stage-managing you can do while still in the guise of Chelsea.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Hi, Drea," Charles drawls to your alter ego. He's slouched on the sofa in his living room, but he sits up in seeming shock when his eye falls on you. "Hi, Chelsea."<br/>
<br/>
You just nod: from inside Chelsea, Charles's presence is doubly distasteful. It's not just that he's odious; he's a rival of sorts. But now, thanks to that mask you have on him, he's also a tool. "Can we talk in private?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
He nods unhappily, but gestures you to follow him into the back. The Hartlein house is big--his family is very well off--but it sprawls on a couple of acres instead of having a second floor. His bedroom is large and its mess surprises you: you'd have him pegged as a neat freak. You wrinkle your nose at the posters of half-naked guys on the walls.<br/>
<br/>
"You know Will Prescott, don't you, Charles?" you ask when he's got the door shut. He nods. "I've got a message from him, so you'll do what I say."<br/>
<br/>
He nods again, and slumps into a chair without pushing the books off it.<br/>
<br/>
"It's nothing bad," you assure. "It's about Andrea here. Isn't it great that she's finally managed to land a guy? And that it's Steve Patterson?"<br/>
<br/>
"So it's official?" He looks at Andrea.<br/>
<br/>
"Not until tomorrow. We need to make sure no one makes any trouble for them. I'm doing my part, and you have to do yours." You rapidly outline the plan, which is simple: Charles is to support Andrea and take her part in any arguments among her friends about whether it's a good idea for her to be dating Steve. "You have absolute confidence in her and Steve," you tell him. "You're sure it's all going to work out. In fact--" Here you can do Perry a good term. "It makes you think better of Steve, because he's made a really good choice. You can do all that, can't you, Charles?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." He's been quiet all this time, and his mood has lightened as you've progressed, so that he actually looks cheerful when you're done. "So it's like true love?"<br/>
<br/>
"You don't have to go that far. But Andrea here--" You grab her arm and squeeze it. "She's a really special girl, and she wouldn't do anything stupid, and any guy would be really lucky to have her. And Steve's not an idiot. He wouldn't give her up after finally landing her."<br/>
<br/>
"Am I supposed to believe that?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"If it makes it easier for you to say it, then yes." <br/>
<br/>
His expression says you haven't answered his question, but he nods again.<br/>
<br/>
"I'm so glad we had this talk, Charles," you say, and you really do feel happy; Chelsea would so much enjoy bossing him around this way.<br/>
<br/>
After that, it's back to Chelsea's, where you switch back into Andrea, and give Chelsea her orders for tomorrow.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You hadn't set things up with Perry beforehand, but that's okay: He wouldn't have cared, and the triumphant unveiling of the Steve-Andrea pair only requires Chelsea's help. You go to school early, to watch pre-class basketball practice. You sit alone, but Chelsea is there too, on the other side, with Kendra and Gloria flanking her. Your puppet catches your eye only once; the other two are more blatant at staring at you, but you ignore them.<br/>
<br/>
The other cheerleaders--as per the orders you'd had Chelsea send out the night before--show up early too, just as practice is breaking up, and they're lingering by the doors as the guys come trooping out from changing. You go down onto the floor, to be nearby when Steve comes out. He appears early, in the middle of a pack that includes Gordon and Seth Javits and Frank and Joe Durras. You pull him gently from their company, so that you're standing alone in full view of everyone when you put your arms around him. He hugs you back. "You looked good out there," you say.<br/>
<br/>
"I always do," he brags. "You kept distracting me, though." You look at each other a moment, and then he bends to kiss you long and deeply. The gym seems to go quiet.<br/>
<br/>
You can't help watching from the corner of your eye--even as you gaze up at Steve with rapt adoration--as everyone else reacts. There are smirks from the guys, and Chelsea and Gloria and Kendra wheel to start chatting excitedly at the other cheerleaders, feigning surprise and astonishment. You step back from Steve, but you keep your hands on each others' hips.<br/>
<br/>
Joe Durras, blonde and bright-eyed, steps forward. "Hey, we haven't met," he chirps, and puts out a hand. "Joe Durras."<br/>
<br/>
"Andrea Varnsworth." You take his hand. His handshake is firm but gentle, and his eyes dance. "You looked good too. Not as good as--"<br/>
<br/>
"I can only try. Me and my brother are new here, you know, but I've seen you around." He looks at Steve. "I didn't know you guys were-- You're a lucky guy, Patterson." He pokes him in the arm. "Admit it."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm a lucky guy," he grins back. And then a queer expression flashes over his face.<br/>
<br/>
"So how did--" Joe starts to ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Come on, I want you to myself," you interrupt, and tug your boyfriend away. He stumbles a little. As you go, you hear Joe muttering enviously to his brother.<br/>
<br/>
Arms around each other, you and Steve leave the gym. The cheerleaders part to let you pass, and you feel their eyes on you. Your own eyes dance, and you feel a happy flush in your cheek. "That was perfect," you say when you're outside.<br/>
<br/>
"If you say so," he says. <br/>
<br/>
You glance up: He seems a little green. "What's wrong? Didn't you like that scene?"<br/>
<br/>
"No," he says, and chokes a little. "It was embarrassing."<br/>
<br/>
"I thought you'd like a little showing off." You're shocked by his bluntness.<br/>
<br/>
"I do. But my way."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, that was <i>my</i> way of showing off. Can you live with it?"<br/>
<br/>
"I guess. I'm not sure Justin can." He gasps, and his eyes go out of focus.<br/>
<br/>
"What are you talking about?"<br/>
<br/>
"I told him what we did with Gordon and Chelsea," he blurts, and twists around, as though he's been punched. He stares down at you, a feverish light in his eye.<br/>
<br/>
"What?!"<br/>
<br/>
"We talked last night. It felt wrong, keeping secrets from him. Oh God, why am I telling you this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Why were you telling Justin? Shut up, come with me." You hustle him around a corner. "What's gotten into you?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know. You started asking me these questions, and-- Did you do something to me?" he demands in an accusing tone.<br/>
<br/>
"I just asked you if you liked what happened in there. You're the one who-- But what did Justin have to say?"<br/>
<br/>
"Not a lot. He's okay with us adding Gordon and Chelsea, but he's pissed we didn't talk to him about it before."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm glad you told me," you say through your feelings of shock. "But you're being weird about it."<br/>
<br/>
"I <i>wasn't</i> going to tell you," Steve says, fear showing in his eyes. "Justin said it was okay to leave it as a secret." He grimaces hard.<br/>
<br/>
"I think you should go see the nurse," you tell him. "You don't look good."<br/>
<br/>
He nods, and you part; he totters off toward the office, but you go looking for Mansfield.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You find him in Walberg's class, and gesture him into the hall. "Perry says you know about our 'extras'," you say in a low voice. He smiles mirthlessly. "Look, I'm sorry that we-- We should talk."<br/>
<br/>
"I can skip," he says. "I want to visit the loft anyway." He ducks back inside long enough to tell Lisa to take notes for him, then accompanies you back to the gym. The cheerleaders are practicing, and you and he get some stares as you mount the steps to the jocks' private kingdom, but you'll get Chelsea to quash any talk.<br/>
<br/>
Up in the loft, Geoff crosses over to the cabinet where you'd stashed the spell copies you'd made. "First thing is, I'm confiscating these," he says. "We're not making any masks I don't know about. You and Perry can keep Gordon and Chelsea and Lynch and Hartlein. But no more."<br/>
<br/>
"It was just to help things out, you know," you say. "Give us control of this place--"<br/>
<br/>
"I understand."<br/>
<br/>
"And I thought it'd be a way of bonding with Perry. You want that, right? And he and I-- We're not close, like you and him are."<br/>
<br/>
"I get that, too. That's why I'm not pissed. But you and me also need to 'bond.' I'm supposed to get a girl, and you're supposed to get a guy."<br/>
<br/>
"I know."<br/>
<br/>
"We'll do that on Wednesday. You have someone picked out?" he asks, and you shake your head. "Then pick someone."<br/>
<br/>
"I haven't thought about it."<br/>
<br/>
"Then I'll help. Either you can pick a guy for yourself, or you can pick a girl for me."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?"<br/>
<br/>
"Perry and I talked about lots of things last night. He also needs a girl, to be Geoff's girlfriend, and he's picked Olivia Byrne. You can help out there. I was going to pick Gillian Kiefer. You can pick a guy to go with her."<br/>
<br/>
"Braydon, then, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't have to be. Or, you can pick a different girl for me. A girl you like. Maybe Lisa Yarborough?" You shake your head violently. "Then some other girl. But if you pick a girl for me, I pick the guy for you. I'll tell you who it'll be. It'll be Frank Durras. It's a natural connection point."<br/>
<br/>
"Why do it this way?" you ask. "It's confusing."<br/>
<br/>
"It'll move things along. You're getting into a lot of mischief, so I want you out of Andrea."</span></div></div>


path: 1133112111222211222111211221111121
author_id: seuzz
title: Guys for Gillian
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You bridle at his reprimand, but you accept it. He's right, you have to admit now that he's rubbed your nose in your mess. You've gone overboard.<br/>
<br/>
As for the choice he's left you: "I'll have to think about it," you say. "Thanks for telling me. It does narrow it down."<br/>
<br/>
"Are you going to stay as Andea, or are you going to switch around with Chelsea?" he asks.<br/>
<br/>
"You won't want me switching, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't care. Just let me know where you are. It's less weird than talking to a fake." A thought occurs to him. "That is you under there, isn't it, Prescott?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes, it's me. And I'll stay like this today. First day of dating Steve Patterson, you know. Which reminds me." Now it's your turn to shoot him a hard glance. "Did you do something to him? He's being weird this morning. He told me that he told you what we'd done, but he said he didn't want to tell me."<br/>
<br/>
"What do you mean?" His brow crinkles.<br/>
<br/>
"I mean that he just blurted it out. He was, like, shocked when he said it. It was like someone had given him truth serum."<br/>
<br/>
"Don't look at me. I don't know any magic that--"<br/>
<br/>
"Is there stuff in that book you haven't told us about?"<br/>
<br/>
He turns red. "I'm telling you everything I know, Prescott. In fact, there's nothing more in the book."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? It's a thick book, and we've only just--"<br/>
<br/>
"There's something wrong with it. A page got torn out of it, and I can't get any deeper into it." He briefly describes the magic associated with the book: You can't turn a page unless you execute the spell that's written on that page. But part of one page has been torn away, so he can't execute the spell, and that means he can't get any deeper into the book. "We've got into enough trouble as it is," he says. "Getting these new lives is enough."<br/>
<br/>
"I guess," you say, but can't keep the skeptical edge from your voice.<br/>
<br/>
"And I didn't do anything to Perry. So he told you that he told me. Awesome." He shrugs. "It's not a good idea keeping secrets from each other."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You spend the day in a thoughtful haze, but are not so preoccupied as to not play your part. You search for Steve during all the class breaks and linger with him in front of his classes, hugging and stroking and smooching. You don't get as many looks as you would like: It turns out not as many people in the school care about Steve and Andrea as you (and Chelsea and Charles) would have thought, but you put on a show for those that do.<br/>
<br/>
Fatima and Sienna corner you in third period and attempt a semi-intervention. Luckily, Charles is there too, and he jumps in on your behalf. "Leave her alone," he chides them. "You're such old hens. I think it's awesome." He squeezes your arm excitedly. "You're going to tell me all about what you're doing with him, right, Drea?" he leans in to ask. "If it's anything like I think it is--"<br/>
<br/>
"I'll give you enough to dream about, Charles."<br/>
<br/>
He squawks and turns pink.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You'd anticipated eating lunch at the alpha table with Steve and Gordon and Chelsea and the others, but your boyfriend steers you off toward the gym instead. "Come on, I don't want to overdo it."<br/>
<br/>
"You seem to be back to being yourself," you observe dryly.<br/>
<br/>
"I guess. I do feel better now. Fuckin' weird, this morning." He leads you up to the loft, which is predictable. "Justin texted me, said you and him skipped class to talk."<br/>
<br/>
"He told you what about?" you ask. He nods. "So it's all out in the open."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm glad," he sighs. "He told me you'd be moving somewhere else on Wednesday. I wanted to get some quality time in with you first." He pulls at the hem of your shirt.<br/>
<br/>
You let him lift it off you, and let him strip you of your bra. "You'll have all the quality time you want with Andrea," you say as he bends to kiss your nipples. "Even if I'm not here."<br/>
<br/>
"Nuh uh. Well, I guess you could give me permission, but that's be another secret from Justin."<br/>
<br/>
"What's he got to--"<br/>
<br/>
"Didn't he tell you?" He groans. "We're only supposed to do it--you know, penetration--with each other. Not with the whatchacallems. The golems."<br/>
<br/>
"What kind of bullshit is that?"<br/>
<br/>
"Bonding bullshit," he explains. "I thought we talked about it. Anyway, when you're outside of Andrea, I'm not supposed to get any from her. So, we got today and tomorrow together--" He kicks off his shoes and pulls off his shorts. "And then I'm dry for a week. Then you go dry for a week when it's me and Justin together."<br/>
<br/>
"I'm liking it a lot more when it's just us, Perry," you say, and pull off your own pants. You push him back, and slowly mount him. "Just you and me, bond--" You kiss him, and then you're pumping each other, and don't speak again.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Nothing wrong with Durras," he says afterward, when you're cuddling. You'd told him of the choice that Justin had left you with. "And then you could pick the girl for him. It's like he's leaving both choices to you."<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know anything about him," you reply. "Besides, he's got that brother."<br/>
<br/>
"Frank keeps him in his place."<br/>
<br/>
"But I like Gillian, too. Justin is still leaving both choices for me, because I might pick her for him anyway."<br/>
<br/>
"What, you want to be Braydon?" he laughs.<br/>
<br/>
"It doesn't have to be him. But they do look natural together."<br/>
<br/>
"Who would you be if it were you and Gillian?"<br/>
<br/>
"I don't know," you admit. "I really do like being with you. We're solid, aren't we? These were good choices." You look up at him.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah." He pulls you up to give you a smooch. "So pick someone I can get along with as Steve. Okay?"<br/>
<br/>
"Of course." The bell rings at that point, otherwise you'd probably do it with him again.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>Gillian Kiefer.</i> As Andrea you don't share any classes with her, but that's who you keep thinking about. No matter who you pick for yourself, that's who Justin is going to be, because you're pretty certain that's who you'd pick for him.<br/>
<br/>
Like Andrea, Gillian occupies a slightly equivocal social position. But where Andrea balances between the female athletes--the swimmers like Jamie Bornholm and Christine Coolidge--and the bohemians--like Sienna and Fatima and Jelena, Gillian balances between the bohemians and the Nerdcore: guys like Christian Knouse and Darrell Parson and Howie Baylor. Braydon balances there too. He hangs out with them, doing RPG stuff, but he has a faux-edgy attitude, and dresses in a slightly punk/goth way. He and Gillian fit each other well. She's chipmunk cute and fizzy with a tart aftertaste; he is very dry and sarcastic.<br/>
<br/>
Being Braydon would bring only one advantage: Justin would not have to break Gillian up with him to set up a romantic relationship with your choice. Otherwise, he's just one of the more anonymous students at the school. You sure don't imagine him going off to excel in college or to have an exciting business career. His family doesn't seem well off. But maybe that doesn't really matter. To the extent that you've thought about your future life, it's a future as Andrea. <br/>
<br/>
So who could you choose for yourself? A jock? Perry is having fun as Steve, after all. So your eye travels over the few suspects you glimpse in the hallways. Football players: Cameron Huber; Ethan Nieves; Scott Bickelmeir; Erik Carstairs. But Cameron is tied up with Anne Starkey, and there's a bad odor about the others. Baseball? Marcus Allen, over by the drinking fountain, is a possibility, but that would mean being close to Jason Lynch--something you don't want, despite his being under your control--and Maize Tsosie, which might irritate Justin. There's Nathan Cruz, who is on the swim team with you. Justin has talked about there needing to be some overlap to your choices. Fred Hildown, who's a cross-country runner? He's cute and very popular.<br/>
<br/>
You turn a corner and bump into Derek Balaban. You quietly apologize, but he keeps his eyes down and dodges around you. You turn to regard his retreating back. He is one of the best-looking guys at school, but he doesn't seem to be friends with anyone, unless it's with the other guys on the wrestling team.<br/>
<br/>
And that's when Laurent Delacroix suggests himself. You stop in the middle of the hall, wondering why you hadn't thought of him first. He's the captain of the wrestling team, and has a lot of charisma. He's dark-haired and dark-skinned, which sets off his blazing smile nicely. He's strong and well-shaped and popular with lots of girls. Like Steve in that regard, though unlike Patterson he hasn't a reputation for being a jerk. You have the desire to go looking for him, just to eyeball him in case you see something that would confirm him as a choice or rule him out, but you've no idea where he would be at this time of day. <br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"What do you think of Laurent?" you ask Charles after school.<br/>
<br/>
He gasps and covers his face with his hands. "Oh God, Drea," he groans. "Now I won't be able to <i>stop</i> thinking of him."<br/>
<br/>
"Would he look good with Gillian Kiefer?"<br/>
<br/>
Chelsea looks up from her phone. (You pulled her along over to Charles, so you could consult with both of them.) "You mean like <i>dating</i> him?" You nod. "She's a little beneath him, don't you think?" She sniffs.<br/>
<br/>
"Don't be a snot, Chelsea," Charles says. "That's my job. Is this a real question, Drea? Because she and Braydon are just <i>mad</i> for each other."<br/>
<br/>
"They don't have to be."<br/>
<br/>
"Yes they do," Charles says. "There's no one at Westside who fit each other better, and I'm including Chelsea and Gordon when I say that." Chelsea sticks out her tongue at him.</span></div></div>


path: 113311211122221122211122
author_id: maximawm
title: A Forced Hand
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>You frown and pause at that last remark so that you don't accidentally blurt out the thought in your head. However, you're glad to find out that it isn't just you who dislike the idea. Andrea hates it too. She never liked his cold, grey eyes and his ways at school. You fold an arm underneath your impressive bosom and realise that the group of boys are ogling you more excitedly. <br/>
<br/>
Another thought forms itself inside your head. Maybe you don't need to vacate your comfortable perch. Looking out to the group of boys, you are reminded of Andrea's powers over boys. Patterson wouldn't be Patterson with Perry running him on the inside. He wouldn't be his usual rapacious, womanizing way. Even Andrea don't think that she can tame Patterson, but Perry Patterson might be more manageable. Inwardly, you curse that you didn't pick Patterson. <br/>
<br/>
You don't like Perry nor Steve that much and Andrea especially loathes the sight of Patterson. The best choice is to pick a new body. Now that you know Justin will be Andrea and Perry will be Steve, there will be less surprises.<br/>
<br/>
''Hey, what do you think?'' comes the voice from the other side. <br/>
<br/>
''Mmm,'' you glance down at your impressive bosom, lamenting the fact that you might not be able to feel them from the inside anymore,''I'll let you have Andrea,'' <br/>
<br/>
''Great,'' Justin chuckles and there's another muttered conference on the other side, ''We'll switch back tomorrow morning, same place.'' There's a pause on the other side, ''Don't worry about Patterson, we'll get him,'' you detect a snicker on his tone. <br/>
<br/>
''Mmm,'' you glance at the group of boys who are not aren't even bothering to hide the fact that they're ogling your body,'' Sounds good, I'll get Prescott-bot down there.'' The call ends and you take your time to walk back to the main building. That will give you some time to enjoy your borrowed body for a bit more.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">***</div><br/>
<br/>
The warm soapy water feels good around your body as you sink a bit lower in the bath tub. Andrea is at her natural habitat in the water wherever it may be. Despite the relatively bare and rather Spartan-like interior inside the house, her bathroom is well kitted out. You find out that the bath tub is a decadence that Andrea insisted upon her mother. <br/>
<br/>
You trace your hands up along the inside of your thighs, only barely so it doesn't excite you. You have had your fill of caressing, hugging, exploring squeezing your lovely body after school. You let them linger there for a while, before moving up to feel your shapely stomach. You're going to miss being Andrea Varnsworth, that's the thought in your head as you cradle her wonderful boobs in each of her hands. Maybe you can take some pictures. <br/>
<br/>
Pictures. That reminds you of the Prescott-bot earlier this morning. That in turns reminds you that you have to send him a message to get him to the basement to do the switch tomorrow morning. <br/>
<br/>
Majestically, you rise from the bath tub and pull the plug before walking over to your phone, stationed nearby. <br/>
<br/>
<i>Basement 2mrw morn 7. Bring clothes</i> you pause and read the message to your copy. Then you decide to get a picture of your naked self, just from the neck down as to not let the world know that Andrea Varnsworth is taking a nude selfie for Will Prescott. Although if anyone else is to see the picture you just sent along with your message, the wonderful globes, finely sculpted stomach, strong legs and the lightly tanned skin will pinpoint to only one person within Westside. <br/>
<br/>
If you're going to return to Will Prescott again tomorrow, well, you want some souvenirs from your time in Andrea to make it more bearable.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">***</div><br/>
<br/>
''Would you like to take another picture?'' Andrea coolly asks you and your double, ''The selfie you took yesterday not enough?'' There's a very un-Andrea-like smirk in her tone. You turn red at that comment and you sense that your double does too as Perry is in the room together with you. Thankfully, you are already dressed in the spare clothes your double gives you. Andrea waves you away and starts to get herself looking decent again. <br/>
<br/>
''So, uh,'' you stumble with your words, ''Is that Patterson under Perry's face?'' <br/>
<br/>
''Nope, I'm still me.'' Perry says.<br/>
<br/>
''Tell him the truth,'' the sound of Andrea's voice causes you to whip your head back to her direction, but to your dismay, she's already dressed, ''Or I'll tell the <i>real</i> Perry,'' <br/>
<br/>
''I don't have to obey you,'' Perry says indignantly, but he relents,'' Fine, my master, the <i>real</i> Perry is Patterson right now.'' there's an unmistakeable hint of sarcasm in his voice.<br/>
<br/>
Andrea chuckles,'' And that's Patterson underneath that mask. Pretty smart actually, we put Victoria's mask on the golem and bait Patterson down here.''<br/>
<br/>
''Wait,'' you exclaim,'' You let Patterson know of this place?!''<br/>
<br/>
''What's it going to matter,'' Perry says mirthlessly,''He's not going to see the light of day anymore.''<br/>
<br/>
''Jesus,'' you mutter. <br/>
<br/>
''Let's get this switch done with,'' Andrea motions you to take your mask off your double, which you swiftly do, revealing the real Andrea Varnsworth underneath and before the real girl can stir, Justin drops the golemized mask of himself on her. <br/>
<br/>
The gears in your mind rotate,'' If you're able to know what I did as Andrea yesterday, what if I put on this mask? Will I know what my double did?''<br/>
<br/>
Andrea looks at Perry uncertainly,''We know that we can't put our own mask,'' she hesitates.<br/>
<br/>
''Try it on,'' Perry urges you, ''We'll let you out if something happens, right?'' he nudges Andrea. There's something you don't like about that though.<br/>
<br/>
''I guess it will be safe,'' Andrea glances at the newly revived Justin and beckons him to get changed out from your clothes, ''It's enslaved to you anyway.''<br/>
<br/>
''Here goes,'' you draw the mask near to your face and suddenly everything blacks out.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">***</div><br/>
<br/>
''He's stirring up,'' there's faint voices you can hear.<br/>
<br/>
''Argh,'' waking up with a start, you hear voices murmuring. You blink once and twice and with a sense of relief, you find out that you indeed have memories of what your replacement did.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">***</div><br/>
<br/>
It is surprising how easy it is for you to settle back into the life of Will Prescott. Sure you missed being Andrea, but there's a sense of belonging as you shared your lunch period with dipshits Caleb and Keith and Carson's group, but the addition of Lin Pol makes it extra nice, even if she gets snarky every now and then. Frank and Joe join you guys again, much to the dismay of Paul. Joe being his usual merry self, and Frank keeps his composure and distance. You can't shake off the feeling that they're watching you very, very closely and that unnerves you. <br/>
<br/>
From the corner of your eyes, you see Patterson and Andrea sitting together with other A-listers including Chelsea and Gordon with the head cheerleader being extra affectionate with the captain of the basketball team.<br/>
<br/>
''I can't believe that Andrea's hooking up with Steve,'' Yumi says in a hushed tone. She must have seen the looks you give at the A-lister tables. <br/>
<br/>
''So, all of those rumours about Andrea being,'' Carson pauses, ''well, you know, a lez,'' he looks around,''isn't true?''<br/>
<br/>
''Being a lez to Steve's girlfriend is a long shot,'' Lin Pol quips in her usual manner.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">***</div><br/>
<br/>
''Prescott,'' a growl freezes you on the spot just in front of your locker during your free period. The shitty half of your school life rears its ugly head. Before you are able to look at the source of the voice and your tormentor, you find your head locked underneath the arm of Lester Pozniak. Caleb and Keith suddenly find other things more interesting and scamper off. <br/>
<br/>
As Lester drags you away, you see some students in the hallway. Betas. All of them. None of them spares a glance at you, much less trying to help you. The thought of the masks and your time as Andrea fills you with rage where despair used to be. Fuck this, you thought. You certainly don't have to deal with these bullies anymore if you don't want to. <br/>
<br/>
''Whatcha looking at?'', Lester growls and that's when you realise that you've been giving him a dark stare. You feel the threat of lunchtime nachos rising up your throat as a fist connect with your stomach. <br/>
<br/>
''What are you doing?'' <br/>
<br/>
You stop as Lester stops at the voice. Glancing upwards, you see Patterson's cold, grey eyes locked on Lester, whilst a few metres away you see Andrea vanishing round a corner. <i>Perry</i>.<br/>
<br/>
''If you want to do your stuff with Prescott, you'll have to wait your turn,'' there's a shove from Patterson on your captor's chest. Lester thought about objecting, but with a shove and a snarl, he slings you at Patterson, ''I'll get you later,'' <br/>
<br/>
''Tha-,'' you don't get a chance to finish your word as you feel Patterson's arm around your neck. <br/>
<br/>
''You think you can run away from me, fucker?''</span></div></div>


path: 113311212
author_id: gotastic77
title: Run away!
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>Seeing Victoria there in front of you makes you weak at the knees, and part of you would want nothing more than to throw her down onto the bed and have your way with her, but this is all too wrong. None of tonight is adding up, and even with that sexy body luring you deeper, you convince yourself to turn and bolt for the door.<br/>
<br/>
"Will, come back!" you here Victoria shout from behind you, but her pleas are lost on you now. All you want is to get out of here and try to make sense of this night.<br/>
<br/>
But escape isn't that easy. You weren't paying too much attention to the apartment layout when you first came in, and hoe you find yourself scrambling through a strange hallway with no clue how to find the front door. Finally you make your way to a door that will hopefully take you to freedom, but upon swinging it open, you find yourself face-to-face with another intimidating sight...</span></div></div>


path: 1133112122
author_id: gotastic77
title: Another Victoria?
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>There in the doorway is standing a second Victoria, wearing the exact same clothes and looking completely identical to the one you were just fleeing. For a moment you consider that you had just doubled back around in the apartment and the first Victoria had merely gotten the better of you, but that seems too improbable. Just as improbable as the girl having an identical doppelganger.<br/>
<br/>
"Where do you think you're going?" the Victoria asks coyly, taking a few steps towards you and forcing you back towards a couch on the other side of the room. She inches towards you, swaying her hips with every step and bringing a hand up to twirl her hair. Damn you find her so sexy. Eventually you've run out of room to retreat and wind up forced to sit on the couch, staring up at the intimidating girl above you.<br/>
<br/>
Suddenly though, from the other side of the room, you hear a confused gasp. "What are you doing?" shouts a different Victoria, obviously the one you had fled from before. The two girls were clearly not expecting to find each other here, and both get wide-eyed before gazing up and down at their mirrored image before them.<br/>
<br/>
It's tough to keep your arousal contained. Now there's not just one, but <i>two</i> amazingly sexy, half-naked Victorias standing face-to-face. And you can't believe what happens next...</span></div></div>


path: 11331122
author_id: seuzz
title: Friends and Enemies
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>The weekend intervenes, and you give up on the idea of looking for Justin to get that book back. Maybe because it would be too much trouble. Maybe because it would mean probably running into Tsosie again. <br/>
<br/>
Probably it's because you'd just as soon not remind Geoff and Kelsey and them about how stupid you were acting at Besandwiched.<br/>
<br/>
Still, you fold yourself up defensively in your desk Monday morning in Walberg's. Kelsey comes in first, but she ignores you, which is a welcome, if normal, action on her part. Then comes Gardinhire, looking very cool in his shades and white polo shirt with the casually snapped up collar. Lisa and Geoff are the last of that bunch to come in. Mansfield is all eyes on Lisa; she doesn't acknowledge you either. You try telling yourself that she'll want to apologize to you for last night, and that she's just waiting for a more opportune moment, when she doesn't have to do it in front of Kelsey and Geoff and Martin. So you're not too disappointed when she goes the whole period without even looking in your direction. <br/>
<br/>
Or when she doesn't catch you at your locker before second period.<br/>
<br/>
Or at your locker before third.<br/>
<br/>
Or during fourth, when you have a study hall in the library.<br/>
<br/>
But when she doesn't come looking for you at lunch ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
"Who do you keep looking for?" Jenny Ashton asks. "You look like a prairie dog." She mimes your attitude by popping up onto her knees and sniffing the air with her hands drawn up to dangle limply under her chin.<br/>
<br/>
"I was looking for Lisa. I thought maybe she might--" You close your mouth, for Jenny and Yumi Saito and Paul Davis have all just exchanged a meaningful glance. "Cut me some slack, okay? So I'm still not over her dumping--"<br/>
<br/>
"And who do <i>you</i> keep looking for?" Jenny asks Carson Ioeger, who like you has been craning his neck and staring over at the cafeteria. The seven of you--Jenny, Carson, Paul, Yumi, Caleb, Keith Tilley, and you--are all eating picnic style in a corner of the main quad in front of the school. <br/>
<br/>
"I'm looking for James. Hey, Johansson," Carson adds without looking over as Caleb snickers. "You see this finger? And this one? Picture the finger between them. It's your finger, and after I show it to you I'm gonna shove it up your ass."<br/>
<br/>
"And you wonder why I never want to eat with these guys," Caleb mutters to you.<br/>
<br/>
"Where is James anyway," Jenny asks, and cranes her neck too.<br/>
<br/>
"Like you care."<br/>
<br/>
"I do care."<br/>
<br/>
"Then why don't you go out with him?"<br/>
<br/>
"I said I care," she says. "I didn't say--"<br/>
<br/>
"Ye-es?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, why do <i>you</i> suddenly care?" Jenny turns red in a very hot-and-bothered kind of way.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't give a shit. And it'd be easier to not give a shit if you two were actually--"<br/>
<br/>
Jenny leaps to her feet and hurries away. "You <i>asshole,</i> Carson," Yumi says, and scampers after her.<br/>
<br/>
"Well, now that we're finally stag," Carson says serenely. "Oh, except for <i>you,</i> Davis."<br/>
<br/>
"Fuck you." Paul hurries after Yumi.<br/>
<br/>
"It's like a fucking caravan," Carson says as he watches the 3-person conga line snake away. "Poor Davis. No one to chase <i>him.</i> Anyway, now that we're finally stag--" He puffs himself up as though to make a major announcement. And then he scratches long and deeply at his crotch. "Finally. I've been needing to do that for about ten minutes." He takes another bite from his sandwich.<br/>
<br/>
"I met up with Lisa and a bunch of her friends last night," you say quietly, taking advantage of the lull in the conversation. You relate in a fragmentary way the events at Besandwitched. "I was kind of hoping she'd come over and say 'sorry' for what happened."<br/>
<br/>
Out of the corner of your eye you catch Keith putting his face in his hands. Carson is more direct. "I'm gonna ask you one question, Prescott, and then I'm gonna say one thing. After that, I'm not sayin' anything about you and Lisa ever again. Okay? So, are you planning on being into her for the rest of your life?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, I'd like to," you retort. "I'd like it if we got together and were, like, together for--"<br/>
<br/>
"Then you're gonna die a miserable old man. That or you're gonna off yourself. Because she's not into you, and she's not going to be."<br/>
<br/>
You redden. "So you're saying I should just suddenly stop being into her," you say as though it's the most absurd thing anyone could say. Which, at the moment, it seems likely it is.<br/>
<br/>
"Exactly. And the sooner the better. Stop being into her, and start being into some other girl."<br/>
<br/>
"Heh, Ioeger told you to get 'into a girl'," Keith snickers.<br/>
<br/>
"Tilley? That finger I promised to shove up Johansson's ass? After I take it back out, I'm gonna make you suck it."<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Jenny and Yumi and Paul never come back. Lisa, of course, doesn't show up. Neither does James. The latter absence is the least of your concerns, but it's the one that seemingly gets an explanation.<br/>
<br/>
The hallway whirls as you're yanked back by a strong arm, and then it explodes in a white flash as--<i>WHANG</i>--your head hits something loud and hard. Something grips your collar and then <i>WHANG</i>--the back of your head hits the same thing. It's not an unfamiliar sensation--someone is slamming you back against a locker--but you've never gotten it this hard before, and your lunch heaves in your stomach.<br/>
<br/>
"You gonna tell Lamont what I said?" a voice roars in your face. "Are you?"<br/>
<br/>
You open your eyes, then try to blink away the horror. It's Jason Lynch, and his electric blue eyes seem to spark over his grin. "What?" you gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"Wrong answer, asshole." <i>WHANG</i> "Are you gonna tell Lamont what I said?"<br/>
<br/>
"Tell him what?" you desperately gasp.<br/>
<br/>
"You're a fuckin' idiot, you know that?" Lynch chortles. His shoulders twitch just a little, and then-- <br/>
<br/>
<i>OH MY GOD YOU HAVEN'T FELT PAIN LIKE THAT IN YOUR CROTCH SINCE THAT TIME YOU WERE TEN YEARS OLD AND YOUR BROTHER MISSED THE T-BALL AND HIT YOUR BALLS INSTEAD.</i> You go blind with agony and fall over, and then your scalp explodes with fiery pain as Lynch yanks your head up by the short hairs and grins at you through your tears.<br/>
<br/>
"Are. You. Going. To tell. Lamont. What. I. Said?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yes." Your voice is just a cracked whisper. "Just tell me what I'm s'pposed to say."<br/>
<br/>
"That's the right answer," he says. "You say 'yes' before I tell you what to do. If you don't learn anything else in this shithole, you'll learn that." He giggles. "Tell Lamont to stay out of the locker room at lunch. Fuck, tell him to stay out of the locker room, period. Pussy like him shouldn't never be in there to start with."<br/>
<br/>
"I'll tell him."<br/>
<br/>
"Better. 'Cos I'm gonna ask 'im if he got the message." He releases your hair, and you slump to the floor. "Run along now, li'l darlin', and make sure he gets what I told you."<br/>
<br/>
You can't even stand up straight, and the other students buffet you mercilessly as you stagger to your feet and totter toward last period. You text James to meet you when school is out.<br/>
<br/>
It only takes one look at him when you catch up to him, and you can tell he also had a little conference with Lynch. He accepts your message with the grim stoicism of one who has met up all too often with Jason Lynch.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
<i>A little later.</i> You flinch hard as an arm wraps around your shoulder, but it's only Justin Roth. "Heard you ran into Lynch a little while ago," he says. "That sucks."<br/>
<br/>
You grumble half-formed words and let him walk with you. And then you find that you're walking with him as he guides you out a set of side doors. "Where are we going?" you ask.<br/>
<br/>
"Make a little stop, talk about things."<br/>
<br/>
"Tsosie?" you fearfully ask. "He wanted to talk to me--"<br/>
<br/>
"Nah. Somethin' else."<br/>
<br/>
Mystified, you lapse into silence as he guides you over to the portables. He raps sharply at the door, then steps behind you. You look up as the door opens. You only have time to see Perry Small, and to see him shove something at your face. ...<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
You open your eyes with a groan. The words <i>Fuckin' Tsosie</i> form in your head. <i>What was he--?</i><br/>
<br/>
Wait. Not Tsosie. Small and Roth. They're the last ones you--<br/>
<br/>
You blink at the dark ceiling and sit up. You're in one of the portables. Which one doesn't matter, because they're all the same. You stretch and slap at a thick pectoral. At least you're in one piece.<br/>
<br/>
Wait, what's this meaty thing doing under your hand? And where's your fucking clothes? If this is Tsosie's idea of a--<br/>
<br/>
No, not Tsosie. Roth and Small.<br/>
<br/>
Why do you keep thinking of Roth and Small? Because they're the last ones you saw before--<br/>
<br/>
No, Tsosie was the last one you saw, before he slammed you in the face with--<br/>
<br/>
No, before Small slammed you in the face with--<br/>
<br/>
<i>The fuck is going on?!</i><br/>
<br/>
You get to your feet unsteadily, and bounce a little on your thick calves to get the circulation going in your head. You were talking to Roth about Lynch because you'd run into that twiggy pussy and beat a message in him to take to Lamont.<br/>
<br/>
<i>Wait. What?</i><br/>
<br/>
The scene at the locker plays again in your head. You see it from both sides. <br/>
<br/>
Simultaneously.<br/>
<br/>
Your head whirls, and you clutch at a desk. Two people are screaming inside your head. Or: you're screaming at yourself inside your head, because you're two different people. <br/>
<br/>
You're Will Prescott.<br/>
<br/>
You're Jason Lynch.<br/>
<br/>
All sense of reality teeters delicately. And then it tips over. But somehow, you know that you're the one who has pushed it in a new direction.</span></div></div>


path: 113311221
author_id: seuzz
title: The Experiment
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span><br/>
You look down at your naked self, even though you don't have to in order to see that you've got Jason Lynch's body. Despite that, though, something tells you that you're really Will Prescott. That name just somehow feels like a more natural fit.<br/>
<br/>
Thoughtfully, you pull on underwear and khaki shorts and a polo shirt, and slip your feet into the flip-flops. The moves are quick and easy, as quick and easy as the way you snap the cap onto your head and swing the backpack onto your shoulder. You're Will Prescott, but Jason Lynch's fireplug-shaped body reacts smoothly and naturally to your own prompts.<br/>
<br/>
Still, you can't help glancing around sharply as you step out of the portable. If someone were to call your name, how would you react?<br/>
<br/>
But there's no immediate need to find out. The area seems deserted. You stride off purposefully toward the main building.<br/>
<br/>
You're halfway to the gym before you notice that sense of purpose in your walk. The strong stride and raised chin feel very natural, as natural as your more slump-shouldered walk would normally feel. You slow and stop and look around, nose in the air, sniffing as though for challenge or trouble. <br/>
<br/>
<i>No one who saw you would know it isn't Jason Lynch they're looking at.</i> Your cock--that tiny, shameful thing--twitches a little. <br/>
<br/>
If anyone looks at you funny, you'll fuck 'em up. You can do that. You take your cap off and sniff at the crown and put it back on. It smells good. You smell good. You feel good.<br/>
<br/>
Only a memory of what it "felt" like to be Will Prescott reminds you that you haven't always felt this way.<br/>
<br/>
You resume walking, a little grin on your face. <br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Normally you'd head into the gym and run up into the weight area, in the loft above the court, to do a workout while watching Gordon and Steve and the rest of the basketball team doing their after-school practice. Then you'd hang out with Gordon and Steve up in the fuck room for a little while, laughing and sniggering and bragging, before heading home. Today you'd have Lamont to talk about. That little fucker.<br/>
<br/>
But you've got other business on your mind. It's not every day that you walk into school as one person and leave it as another. Pretty fucking freaky.<br/>
<br/>
But you've got a pretty good idea about what's going on. It has to do with Roth and Tsosie and Small. Roth and Small were the last people Prescott saw before waking up as Jason Lynch, and Tsosie was the last one Lynch saw before waking up with Prescott inside his head. Neither Prescott nor Lynch has much to do with them--except for Lynch and Tsosie being on the same baseball team--and their only connection to the pair of people you're currently identifying with is through that book that Prescott--<br/>
<br/>
Okay, that's you, so you've got to start thinking of yourself as him, or else you might go crazy.<br/>
<br/>
Their only connection is through that book that you sold to Roth. That book of magic.<br/>
<br/>
You might be shy about confronting them if you were still in lanky Will Prescott's body. <i>Ain't none of those three--and probably not all three together,</i> you think as you hike the pack higher onto your shoulder <i>as can take Jason Lynch, though.</i><br/>
<br/>
You bypass the gym for the parking lot, which is losing the last dregs of the school student body, and climb into your truck--<br/>
<br/>
Lynch's truck. You notice that Prescott's truck is still off in its corner. You wonder what's happened to your own body. Well, that's something else to beat out of those three fuckers.<br/>
<br/>
You take out your phone-- Lynch's phone--<br/>
<br/>
Shit. All this thinking of yourself as "Prescott" is well and good, but it's Lynch's stuff, and as long as you're carrying it around with his body, it won't feel like stealing if you think of it as "yours."<br/>
<br/>
You take out your phone and call Tsosie. "Yo. Where are you?" you growl in a low voice.<br/>
<br/>
"Um ..."<br/>
<br/>
"You with Roth and Small?"<br/>
<br/>
He sighs. "I'm on my way over to Justin's now."<br/>
<br/>
"Where that?" He mumbles the address. "See you in a few." You hang up. Maybe it's not a good idea to warn them that you're looking for them. But you're confident you can deal with them.<br/>
<br/>
<div align="center">* * * * *</div><br/>
Roth's place is a big, rambling house out on the edge of town. The door's opened by a fat woman with a cheerful face that shows a gap between her two front teeth, and you're momentarily taken aback by the strong resemblance she has to her son. "Ma'am," you say, and doff your cap. "I'm Jason Lynch. Friend of Justin's. Is he here?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's back in his room," she says, and ushers you in. "Justin!" No reply. "Oh, just go bang on his door. Can I get you anything?"<br/>
<br/>
"Thank you, ma'am, that's okay." You tilt your head deferentially, which gets another smile from her, and you head past a living room and down a hall. As you go, you feel vaguely impressed at how courteous Lynch can be with his elders.<br/>
<br/>
With his peers, on the other hand-- <br/>
<br/>
You bang twice at a door, then push it open and step in without waiting for a reply. Tsosie is leaning against a window sill, arms folded, head down. Small sits cross-legged on a bed, his mouth open as he stares at you. Roth is leaning back in a chair at a cluttered desk, legs crossed. His mouth splits into a huge grin. "Hey Jason," he says.<br/>
<br/>
You nod, then whip off your cap and hurl it at Small. He ducks to the side. You then step over to Tsosie. He looks up at you from behind loosely hanging hair. "Maize," you say. Then you punch him hard in the stomach.<br/>
<br/>
He keels over with an "Oof!" and you grab him and hurl him head first into a closet door. Small bounds clumsily off the bed, head forward, which makes it easy for you clip him hard on the chin, which sends him flying back. You grab the reeling Tsosie and throw him onto Small. The two collapse in a tangle of limbs.<br/>
<br/>
Justin doesn't so much as flinch. His eyes just go wide and bright. "Whoa," he gasps admiringly. "Dude, that's like hardcore."<br/>
<br/>
"You want some?"<br/>
<br/>
"That's okay," he says, and leans to the side to laugh and cough. "What's gotten into you?"<br/>
<br/>
"Thought maybe you could tell me."<br/>
<br/>
His eyes glint. "Whaddaya mean?"<br/>
<br/>
You point to your temple. "I got a little fucker inside me, keeps sayin' his name is Will Prescott. Any ideas how he got there? I know he knows you fuckers--" You glance over at Shep and Perry, who have sorted themselves out, but show no obvious intention of rushing you. "And he sold you guys this book that--" You run a tongue along the back of your lower lip. "Tell me about that thing."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, you tell me who I'm talking to. Prescott or Jason Lynch?"<br/>
<br/>
"I can answer to either name."<br/>
<br/>
"Interesting." Justin rubs his chin. "Not really a surprise, but I'd really like to know which you <i>really</i> answer to."<br/>
<br/>
"You answer me, or you're gonna answer to--" You raise a hard fist and take a step toward him.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay, okay!" He laughs again, but it turns into a sigh. "It was just a little experiment to, um--" He peers at you quizzically. "Which name do you prefer?"<br/>
<br/>
"Lemme beat it into your ass, then you can check a mirror."<br/>
<br/>
"Sounds like Lynch to me," Tsosie grumbles from the floor.<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno," Justin says. "I think he went kind of light on you guys. I'm pretty sure it's Prescott. Whaddaya think, Will?" He jerks his chin. "You like havin' that body?"<br/>
<br/>
"I told you, I like havin' answers." That's the last chance you're going to give him.<br/>
<br/>
Maybe he's read it in your eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," he sighs. "So that book you sold me? It's, like, magic. I mean, look at yourself. It's gotta be magic, right?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah. You sayin' you merged me and Lynch somehow?"<br/>
<br/>
"Somehow. 'Cept it was more like a bodyswap. Or more like a disguise." He points at you. "You're wearing a mask. Like a full-on body mask. No one can tell the difference between you and Lynch, not unless you want them to see the difference."<br/>
<br/>
<i>A mask, huh?</i> That sounds crazy, but you can ask him for details later. "So where's Lynch?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's walking around in a Will Prescott mask. Beats me where he is."<br/>
<br/>
Something clicks in the back of your throat. "You mean he's--? Off being me?" Roth nods. "The fuck are you guys doin'?"<br/>
<br/>
"Like I said, running an experiment. We swapped you guys. We wanted to see how you'd act. Like a psychology experiment."<br/>
<br/>
"The fuck you say. Whyncha try it on yourselves?"<br/>
<br/>
"We did." He grins. "My name's Perry Small. That's Justin over there, pretending to be me." He laughs. "Maize called us after you called him. So we did a little switch of our own."<br/>
<br/>
You blink and look over at Small. He shrugs. You peer more closely at him. Yeah, the expression in his eyes is mellower than usual.<br/>
<br/>
You look back at ... the guy who looks like Roth. "Okay, what now? You ran your little experiment."<br/>
<br/>
"Well, we haven't heard from, er, Jason yet, have we?"<br/>
<br/>
"So call him. Jesus, I don't want him fucking up my life."<br/>
<br/>
"So what if he does? You got his life."<br/>
<br/>
"You sayin' I gotta stay like this?"<br/>
<br/>
"Your choice, I guess." <br/>
<br/>
There's nothing to fear here. So why did you just take a step back? Is it because you're scared of continuing to be Jason Lynch? Or are you scared of giving this new thing up?</span></div></div>


path: 1133112212
author_id: seuzz
title: Their Dark Materials
chapter_content:
<div><div> <span>No, you're not scared of anything. But you'll be damned if you're going to go into anything with your cock hanging out. "So what's this fucking experiment you assholes are runnin'?" you demand.<br/>
<br/>
Roth—the guy who looks like Roth, anyway—looks over at Small. "You're the one in charge, maybe you should explain it."<br/>
<br/>
"It's a test of the equipment," Small says. He tugs at his ear. "But also a test of—"<br/>
<br/>
"What equipment? These masks you're nuttering on about?"<br/>
<br/>
Some embarrassed glances get passed between Roth and Small. "That's right," Roth says. "We're not going to get into the details with you—"<br/>
<br/>
"How come?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, how come?" Small echoes. "He already knows mostly about it, we might as well—"<br/>
<br/>
Roth protests. "But he's not part of the—"<br/>
<br/>
"He's already figured most of it out, the part we haven't told him—"<br/>
<br/>
You shove Small back on the bed. "Just tell me already, okay? Jesus."<br/>
<br/>
Small makes a face, then sits back up.<br/>
<br/>
"Okay," he says. "So that book is really weird and crazy, but basically it tells you how to build these mask things in stages." He cross the room to kneel at a dresser. "I got a spare one here, 'cos Maize doesn't want to play," he says as he opens the bottom-most drawer.<br/>
<br/>
Tsosie returns your glance with a scowl. "Wassamatter, man?" you taunt him. "Don't you like playin' dress up?"<br/>
<br/>
"This is fucked up stuff," he mutters, and he mutters some more. You think you hear the word "evil" in there somewhere.<br/>
<br/>
Small nudges you in the knee as he gets back up. "Here," he says, and holds out a bluish object.<br/>
<br/>
It is a mask, one of those classical, tragedian-type masks. There's a brow and a nose and cheekbones and lips and a chin, on the concave curve of the oval. There are also eyelids, but they are closed, so there are no holes to peer out through. The mask is a deep blue, and it glows like a burnished summer sky. You turn it over, and find a metal strip carved with runes affixed to the interior.<br/>
<br/>
"So, it comes in pieces," Small says. "The first spell in the book tells you how—"<br/>
<br/>
"You give that thing some blood like it asked you to?" you demand. That was the reason it freaked you out, you remember.<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, just a little bit. It's one of the freaky things about the books that the pages only turn one at a time. You have to perform a spell before it lets you turn the page to go on to the next one."<br/>
<br/>
"What are the spells like?"<br/>
<br/>
Roth interrupts. "Like cooking in a home ec class," he sneers.<br/>
<br/>
"You take fucking home ec?" you jeer. He reddens.<br/>
<br/>
"There's a bunch of ingredients you have to mix up and a cook, and sigils and all kind of shit," Small says. "Fuck me, and then there's the polishing. That took, like, how fucking long?" he asks Roth.<br/>
<br/>
"Too fucking long," the other replies. "And those metal bands—"<br/>
<br/>
You've already lost patience with these details. "Fine, whatever. But how do the masks work?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, through magic," Small says. "But what you do is, after you make these masks, and polish them, then you can use them to copy people. Then you have to seal them up."<br/>
<br/>
"There's this special paint or glue or something you have to put on the inside of the mask before you can wear them," Roth says. <br/>
<br/>
"Then what you do," Small says, "is what we did to you and Lynch. You take the mask, and you push it into someone's face. Like this." He mimes pushing the mask into your face. "Your own, if you want, or someone else's." He grins. "Like, you get someone out to the portables, and you jump out at them and pop 'em in the face with—"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah, fuck you. What happens then?"<br/>
<br/>
"Well, it goes into you," Small says. "Like, it sinks inside, vanishes. Super freaky the first time we saw it." He pales a little when he looks at Roth. "We tried it on Perry first, and—"<br/>
<br/>
"I nearly kicked your ass when I woke up," Roth says.<br/>
<br/>
"No you didn't. You nearly <i>tried</i> to kick my ass, you couldn't—"<br/>
<br/>
Roth starts to come out of the chair, but you push him back down. "So then what happens?"<br/>
<br/>
"Magic happens," Small says. "It knocks you out for, like, ten minutes. I was shitting myself when we did it to Perry, wondering if he was ever gonna wake up. The book doesn't warn you about that. Fucker who wrote it— Anyway, then it comes back out, and the person is, like, asleep but they won't wake up for another ten minutes after that."<br/>
<br/>
You let your memory flash back to the school. <i>Yes, it was nearly deserted when you woke up. Lotta time passed between when you went into that portable and when you came to.</i><br/>
<br/>
"Then you have to seal it," Small is saying. "After that, you can wear it. Or, if it's someone else's mask, you can put it on yourself, turn yourself into them."<br/>
<br/>
"But you can take it off again?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. There's magic words to do that." Small grins. "Why, you tired of—?"<br/>
<br/>
"No." The refusal comes out easily, and in your gut is the conviction that you want to let this play out a little longer, at least. "Just makin' sure it's reversible."<br/>
<br/>
"Oh, it's totally reversible," Small says. "We've been in and out of these things a couple of times. 'Cept for Maize over there, of course."<br/>
<br/>
"That how come you wanted me and Lynch to play?" you ask. "'Cos you couldn't get him to play along?"<br/>
<br/>
"No, for the experiment we wanted to run, like we told you. But see—" He flips the mask over and points to the metal band inside it. "This fucker is the thing that copies, like, memories and stuff. Personality stuff." He cocks his head and studies you with a shrewd expression. "The, uh, stuff that makes you act like you."<br/>
<br/>
"Uh huh." You return his stare with a steady one of your own.<br/>
<br/>
"Right," he says. "But the mask itself only copies the body. So, if you don't got one of these metal bits inside the mask, then if you put the mask on you'll only look like the person. You won't know how to act like them." Still he stares at you with narrowed eyes.<br/>
<br/>
"What Justin wanted to know," Roth says from the desk, "is what would happen if you put these masks on someone without them knowing what was going on. <i>We</i> tried on the masks, but we basically knew what to expect, so—"<br/>
<br/>
"We've been trying it out real careful," Small interrupts. "So, we made the masks, and me and Perry put each other's on and went home as each other, him disguised as me and me as him. Like we are now. We didn't have those metal bands inside our masks, though, but we managed to fool our folks because we know how each other act."<br/>
<br/>
You suppress a snigger. There's some kind of joke to be made here, but you can't come up with one before Small continues.<br/>
<br/>
"Then we made the metal bands and put them in, so we could get each other's personalities and stuff, and that made it easier. But still kind of pointless since no one noticed before how we were different.<br/>
<br/>
"But then I wondered a couple of things," he continues. "I wondered what would happen if you popped a couple of masks onto other people, when they didn't know what was going on. What would happen if, like—?" <br/>
<br/>
He shrugs and grins. "What would happen if Will Prescott suddenly woke up in Jason Lynch's body, and Jason Lynch woke up in Will Prescott's?"<br/>
<br/>
He props himself up against the dresser. "So tell me. What happened?"<br/>
<br/>
You shrug. "I woke up, got really confused 'cos I had two people inside my head fightin' to tell me who I was, but I got settled down real quick—"<br/>
<br/>
"Wait," Small says. "You had <i>two</i> people inside your head when you woke up?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. Me 'n Lynch. I had a hell of a time for a minute or two remembering which motherfucker I was supposed to be."<br/>
<br/>
Roth's expression has gotten very stiff as you talk, and his eyes dart over to Small, who also looks a little taken aback. "You're saying," Small says, "that you got Lynch's memories right away?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure." You look between the two conspirators. "Why? Ain't that the way it's supposed to work? Di'nt' you say—?"<br/>
<br/>
"Yeah but— Well ... Never mind," Small says. "It's probably not important. But, you're saying you could act just like Lynch? Right now?"<br/>
<br/>
"Sure. I whupped your asses when I came in, didn't I?"<br/>
<br/>
Roth speaks up in the silence that follows. "He's got a point."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh." Small says. "Well, that is interesting, but like I say, it's probably not important." He drums his fingers on the dresser. "So what're you going to do now?"<br/>
<br/>
"I dunno." You look around. "Say, shouldn't ol' Lynch be showin' up pretty soon with my body? I mean, if I remembered about you assholes and that book, and he's got my memories, shouldn't he be comin' here too?"<br/>
<br/>
"He's not going to have your memories," Roth says. "Just your body."<br/>
<br/>
"What? How come?"<br/>
<br/>
"Because," says Small, "we didn't put one of those metal bands inside his mask. The one we put on him. The one we used to copy your body."<br/>
<br/>
"Huh?"<br/>
<br/>
He points at your face. "The mask you're wearing has Jason's body and memories. But the mask he's wearing only has your— Uh, Will Prescott's body in it. The only stuff he knows about you is whatever he already knows about you. That was the other part of the experiment, to see what someone would do if he <i>didn't</i> have the memories, if he just woke up inside of those old-fashioned body sw—"<br/>
<br/>
You finally find your voice. "You mean he could be fucking up my life right now?"<br/>
<br/>
Roth grins. "That's part of what we wanted to find out would happen," he says with a laugh.</span></div></div>


