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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Katydid, Then Katydidn't"  "Yeah, I guess you need to pick out clothes if you're going to do something with, um, that mask," you say. You find you can't quite look Katy in the face. "And yeah, sure, we could hang out after." When you do glance at her, she's got a wet, reproachful expression on her face. "No, really, I want to hang out," you assure her. "And go shopping. Um, there's some stuff I should pick up too." She doesn't look quite convinced of your sincerity. But with a little forced jollity you get her to relax and smile. * * * * * You have to fetch Hannah's mask from the basement first, because Katy will have to wear it in order to try on clothes. So you arrange to meet her up at Nirdlinger's at around four-thirty. You also text your mom to say that you probably won't be home for dinner, on account of you've got plans with a classmate. Katy has an armful of items already when you catch up to her at the department store. "I'm going off some of the selfies she's posted," she grumbles. "I hope this one works faster and better than the last one," she adds as you slip her the mask, "so I can figure out some of the things she likes to wear." With it, she disappears into the changing rooms in back, leaving you to restlessly pace the store's women's section. Hannah is a slut. That's what Katy said at lunch, when she suggested hanging out with you this afternoon. I can't do this, she complained yesterday while she was wearing Stephanie's mask. So it sure sounds like she's suggesting that she'd be able to "do" something while wearing Hannah's mask that she couldn't do while wearing Stephanie's. And that thing would be ... You have to wipe your palms on your trousers, and rub your forearm across your brow. You're not sure that you're ready to do it yet, with Katy or Stephanie or Hannah or any other girl. Well, that's not true, you correct yourself. I'd do it with Chelsea Cooper. Or Andrea Varnsworth. Or— You stop up short in mid-stride. Wait, would I really do it with them? you ask yourself. Of course I would, you answer. Only— Only it's impossible to imagine yourself doing it with them. Neither Chelsea—the arrogant, bitchy captain of the cheerleader squad—nor Andrea—the aloof captain of the swim team—have ever so much as looked at you. Nor can you imagine them looking at you, not with interest or lust in their eye. Unless it wasn't really them. Unless it was really ... Katy? You sink into a chair, lest the sudden onrush of vertigo capsizes you. So if Katy came onto me—which it sounds like she's willing to do!—as Chelsea or Andrea ... or Hannah ... what would I say? Would it be chivalrous to say "No"? Or would it be more chivalrous to ... not say "No"? Well, you were worried about being bored while waiting for Katy to come back, but you've managed to kill most of the wait with these preoccupations, for you jerk and almost jump out of your chair when a big girl with a massive mane of kinky brown hair comes walking out of the back, looking you in the face. She's barefoot, but wearing tight shorts and a white blouse. "What do you think?" she asks. "Be honest." "Um ..." Your eyes bulge and she turns around to show you her backside. Hannah is a big girl, but it's size, not fat. Her thighs are very large and her hips very wide, and she has an extremely ample bust. But if her stomach doesn't curve inward—and it's hard to tell inside the floppy blouse whether it does or not—it definitely doesn't bulge. Mostly she just looks like any other girl, only with a lot more "girl" there. "You don't like it," she flatly declares. "No, it's not that. Only—" "I wish I knew if Hannah liked it." After turning all the way back around, she leans in close with a look of disgust on her face. "It's like what happened with the first mask," she murmurs. "I'm not getting anything!" You swallow. It's a huge turn-on but also really weird having this strange girl, who you've never met, leaning in to talk so intimately to you. "Just relax," you advise her. "Don't, like, strain yourself." You lick your lips. "Maybe if you try on lots of things, it'll jog some memories." "I guess I can try," she grumbles. She straightens up, and turns around and around for you. "Well, what do you think?" There's so much there. So much skin, so much body, so much ... girl ... there that you have to fight the urge to grab hold and sink your fingers and teeth into her. "It's nice," you say, and wish you could moisten your eyeballs with your tongue, like a chameleon. It feels like they're bulging. "Mmm," the girls says. She pulls down on the hem of the shorts. "You look like you're telling the truth." "I am!" "Well, I'll go try on a few more things. Hey, my face is up here." You tear your gaze from off her bust. The girl is giving you an amused smirk. "Be right back," she says. And she saunters off, her hips waggling hard. * * * * * She shows you three or four different ensembles, combining shorts, jeans, and a skirt with blouses, t-shirts, and sports jerseys. "This is like she wears when she's at parties," she says. Or, "I've seen her at school a couple of times in something like this." Or, "I dunno, I think this would look good on her." You're not paying close attention, though. It never occurred to you before that it could be so fun watching a girl parade clothes in front of you. Clothes are just clothes, had been your attitude before. And though you love watching girls at school—mostly out of the corner of your eye—the weren't parading in front of you, showing themselves off to you. But to have a girl put on a show for you and just for you? That's awesome. And it looks like Katy is having fun too. Maybe with the first outfit she was legit trying on clothes as part of a "disguise." But for the rest of them, it's like she's playing it all up for you. She puts a lot of swing in her hips, and she blinks and winks coquettishly at you over her shoulder. Before long, she's practically prancing around in front of you. But all too soon it ends. In mid-twirl, while showing off some sports duds, she does a double-take over your shoulder, turns very pale, and quickly dashes back into the changing rooms. You sit up sharply and stare dumbly after her. A trio of girls then come thundering up out of nowhere. One of them, a girl with long brunette hair, turns on you with a puzzled glare. "Hey, was that Hannah just here?" she asks you. "Uh ... Who?" Your heart thumps in your chest. "Hannah. She just ran out of here?" "Um ... Don't think so," you stammer. You sit up and tense. The girls mutter and murmur at each other and go back to scanning the store. Another one glances at you, but the one who spoke says something under her breath that sounds like, "Some dumbass." Eventually they drift off. You slip out your phone and text Katy to warn her some girls are looking for "Hannah." You get no reply until nearly a quarter of an hour later, when Katy herself comes staggering out of the back. She is very pale and looks around nervously, though those girls have long since gone. "Let's get out of here," she says, and snuggles up close with her arm in yours. "Those were some friends of Hannah's," she says, like you couldn't have guessed. * * * * * Katy confesses she doesn't know who the girls were exactly, but she recognized them as being on the Eastman High School girls' soccer squad. Hannah was at Eastman until this year, when she transferred. "God, I didn't realize what a risk we were taking!" she moans. "And I didn't get any clothes and I didn't even figure anything out about her!" The near-catastrophe at the department store has killed her enthusiasm, at least temporarily, for the plan, and she demurs when you suggest hanging out at the elementary school, where no one is likely to see her or "Hannah." "I'll try putting on the mask tonight," she says, "see if that works out like it did the first time." Then you part for the evening. You're not sure what to make of the day. It all seems so unreal when you're back home, eating dinner and doing homework. Even Katy herself seems unreal. Like, how much time have you spent with her rather than with ... "Stephanie"? Or with ... "Hannah"? And your time with those ... impersonations ... also feels unreal, like something that happened in a dream. Maybe I shouldn't have shown this stuff to her, you find yourself thinking, not if I really wanted to, like, get to know her and hang out with her. If she's going to keep being "other girls," it's going to be harder to get to know the real her. Which sparks the ugly thought: Is Katy someone I really want to know? You shake your head to clear it. You don't want Katy thinking you're only into these other girls, like Stephanie and Hannah, you chide yourself. Right? Considering that you've never really liked Stephanie, and you don't know Hannah at all, it seems like a question with an easy answer. Try to keep her out of the masks so you can get to know her! But then another thought occurs to you, as you're getting ready for bed. Maybe if you got a mask of one of Katy's friends, that would be a short-cut to getting to know her. Next: "Big Man, Big Mouth" |
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