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