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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Another Member for the Team"  "You want him, Will?" Chelsea asks as you haul the unconscious body of Seth Javits over to the makeout mat. "Or can I have him?" "The fuck would I want him for?" you growl as you hurl Javits onto the floor. He rolls onto his back, his unseeing eyes staring past your face at the ceiling above. "To boss around?" "I thought you wanted to boss him around. Me, I don't need him in a mask to do that. Shit," you sneer as you push Javits in the hips with the sole of your sneaker. "He's a fucking little pissant and suck-up, almost as bad as Lynch was." Chelsea giggles. "I love you, Steve," she says, and she catches you behind the shoulders and hauls herself up to hang off your chest with her legs wrapped around your hips. You support her by gripping in her in your arms about her waist. "I love how you hate anyone who can't stand up to you, and how you hate anyone who tries." "If you love me so much," you growl, "how come you went out with Gordon instead of me?" "I didn't know you but I knew him. And then you were such a shit to me afterward because you were jealous." She hugs herself more tightly to you, and buries her face in the crook of your neck. The scent of her hair—it even seems to be perfumed with gold—intoxicates you. "But who I really love," she says, her voice muffled, "is you, Will. I couldn't do all this, if you didn't—" She breaks off, but rubs her face deeply into the side of your throat. "I love it too, Chels," you say. You are not alone in the loft as you say this. Not only is Seth sprawled at your feet, but Gordon is standing in the middle of the room, glowering dully at you. You roll your eyes, to indicate that this is no more fun for you than it is for him. His lip curls, and he turns and with a heavy tread stalks from the loft, banging the door shut behind him. Chelsea glances over her shoulder at the door, then drops from you to the floor. "Jesus," she sighs, "why is it so easy for me to forget when he's here?" "Because he isn't really here," you suggest. "It's not him." "Iguess," Chelsea says. She puts her hand around you, and rubs your back. "I have to act like it's him when we're in front of people, but it's so boring! Sometimes I don't even want to touch him." She twists around to peer up at you with a speculative look. "I wonder if I'd be so hot for Steve, if you were someplace else, Will," she says. You shrug. "If you want me to put on Seth's mask," you start to say, but Chelsea shakes her head. "You said you don't want it, so I'll take it," she says. "You're going to have to get yourself another one, though, if we're going to stay balanced. Do you want to stay balanced?" Is that why she wanted to put a mask on Seth? you wonder. She thought I'd take it, and then she'd have to take another one for herself—one she really wanted? Well, maybe. Except now she's saying she'll take it, and pushing a new mask on you. I guess it doesn't matter, you decide, and answer her with a shrug. "Well, if you want one, you can make one," Chelsea replies with a sniff, and looks down at Seth. "The important thing is we took care of him. He won't be in the way now. And he'll never go crawling back to Cindy." * * * * * After the mask comes out of Javits, you seal it and paint it with some of the special goop, and Chelsea tugs a few strands of hair from her head and drops them into the mask, where you burn them into place. Seth, when he sits up again, looks around with a bewildered look on his horsey face. "How do you feel, Seth?" Chelsea asks him. She is planted on wide-spread feet directly in front of him, her hands on her hips and her lips pursed in a smirk. Seth allows as he feels okay. "Do you feel like being a good boy?" Chelsea asks. He answers with a wary look. "Do you feel like doing exactly what I tell you to do?" The blood drains from Seth's face. His eyes bulge and he glances in terror at you. "You gotta do what she says," you tell him. "Same as me." "Stand up," Chelsea orders, and Seth scrambles to his feet. "So when was the last time you talked to Cindy?" "M-monday!" Seth stammers. "You haven't talked to her since you broke up?" Seth shakes his head. "No texts between you two?" Again he shakes his head. "Good. Now listen carefully to what I have to say." You listen too, in some bemusement, as Chelsea tells Seth that he is not talking to Cindy anymore, and and that he will tell everyone (when the subject comes up) that he is totally through with her, and that he never wants to see or talk to or even think about "that bitch" again. (She emphasizes that Seth is to continually denounce her as a bitch, though he is free to also call her a cunt in order to mix it up a little.) That she is crazy, high maintenance, and never stopped driving him nuts with all her drama about the cheerleader squad, and that she wasn't even good enough (in his opinion) to be on it, let alone to be the squad captain. And that the reason he finally busted up with her wasn't on account of any pressure from Gordon and Steve, but because they finally got him to see what bitch she was and how he should try for a better kind of girl. Seth nods at all this and accepts it. He also accepts it (after you suggest that she so inform him) that you and Gordon are also "supposed to do" whatever Chelsea says. "I'm the boss lady," she archly informs him. "And you three are my employees." After that, she sends him home. * * * * * If you thought you were going to get a blow job (or better) as your reward for helping enslave Seth, you are disappointed. Chelsea suddenly seems exhausted, and sags on her feet the minute you are alone. "Oh my God, I've got to get home," she moans as she glances at her phone. "What for?" you ask. You lay your hands on her shoulders, and gently knead them. "Supper." She groans again, and rolls her head on her neck as you work on her. "Then I have to get ready. Me and Gordon are supposed to go to a party." "Where at?" "This guy who goes to Eastman. It's being thrown by the East-West Club, so we have to put in an appearance." She grunts as you squeeze her trapezius muscles. "But it'll be nice. You should go too, you might get laid." "I could get laid if you stayed here with me tonight." She twists her head around to cock an eyebrow up at you. "I just gave you permission to fuck another girl, Will," she says. "And you're telling me you don't want to?" You feel yourself blush, and are suddenly stuck for words. "I'd stick around if I had another face," she sighs as she pulls herself free of your grip. "But 'Chelsea Cooper' has to show up—" "So send your mask out. The mask of yourself. You can hang it on— Um—" "It's just simplest this way, Will. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. Take me to brunch? Me and Gordon, I mean." "Sure." "I'll call you. Mmm!" She grabs you and bites at your chest. "Love you!" she exclaims, then darts for the door, leaving you rattled and rocking on your feet. * * * * * You have to eat as well—in fact, now that you think of it, you're starving—and so head home yourself. It's just as well, because your dad has had the sudden impulse to take you and your mom out to Outback for dinner. Table talk is about the basketball team and how its training is going, and you tell him how you and Gordon have put Seth in charge of whipping three weak players into shape. You name and shame them, assessing their weakness and giving your own private assessment of whether they will survive their probation. (Richards, no; the other two, maybe.) Neither do you veil the fact that all this is your idea and your program, and you can tell that your dad is pleased to see you acting in such an "executive" manner. In fact, after dinner he presses you again to add MIT to your list of college applications. (He is big on the Sloan School of Management.) Back home, you hurl yourself onto your bed with your phone and search school-related social media for word on any parties. You find mention of the party that Chelsea is going to—at the house of someone named Sammy Orson—and a couple of parties being thrown by some juniors. The one there that catches your eye is being thrown by Diego Rojas, the captain of the JV basketball squad. He's a creep who has been handpicked by Gordon and Steve to take over the varsity squad next year because he's the same kind of asshole-bully that they are. It's hard to tell who might show up at his party, though. You'd hope it would be heavy with basketball-groupie girls in the junior class, but given what Diego is like, it might be heavy with thugs and cretins. On an impulse, you text Kendra to ask where she's planning on going tonight. No surprise, she's going to Orson's party. You could probably talk her out of it, by playing jealous of Javits, if in no other way. Or you could hit one of the clubs in town, pick up a college girl, or even a MILF. (Steve has had those before.) But maybe you should just stay in. Though you have permission, going anywhere would still feel like cheating on Chelsea. Next: "A Little Self-Immersion" |
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