%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Jack of All Trades"  Alex Sheehan giggles. No one else makes a sound. You feel a fire in your cheeks and forehead. The moment hangs. But Chen doesn't follow up. After a long pause, he pads back over to his table. You stare at the wall behind Philippa's head, but out of the corner of your eye you watch Chen pack up the books spread out at his table. Then, with his pack slung over his shoulders he carries his plates into the back. "We should'a called the managers over or something," Leah mutters. She is as flushed as you feel. "What'd you invite him over here?" Philippa snaps at Alex. "Hey, I thought'd be fun! No offense, man," he snickers at you. "It wouldn't've made a difference," you tell Leah. "His family owns this place." Her eyes pop. "No! I didn't know that!" She swings toward Philippa. "Did you know that—?" The two girls gabble at each other. You tilt your head to give Alex a long, steady look. He returns it with a light, unblinking smirk of his own. Alex Sheehan is a real shithead. There's a lot of shithead at Westside, but he's one of the worst. He's not a bully, like Chen or Seth Javits, or an asshole-loser like the smokers and skateboarders who hang out at the portables. But he's a shit-stirrer, someone who makes trouble (as he just said) for fun. And he think he's cool, too, dressing in retro-70s threads and wearing his blonde, curly hair in a faux-fro. Randy kicks you under the table, and asks a question about history class. But a better distraction flies through the door a few minutes later. "Oh my God," Genesis Lee (no relation; her family comes from Tennessee) groans as she collapses into the chair that Alex offered to Chen. "Can someone please get Frau Kohl a boyfriend? Or a chew toy to distract her? A chew toy that isn't me?" She dumps her bag on the table in front of her. "She dropped like a friggin' months of homework on us for this weekend, and I've got plans!" She mimes dancing in her seat, then freezes. "Did we have to come here?" she asks in a whine. "They got anything that's like low calorie or no carbs? I'm trying to lose five pounds by Halloween, and I'm never going to make it!" She turns to give you a pleading smile, as though you've got the answers. "It's Chinese, Genesis," Philippa says. "What were you expecting?" "And you knew we were coming here," Leah adds. "And you came out anyway." "Come on," you tell Genesis before she can start whining again. "I'll walk you through the buffet." Genesis frowns at you, then hops up to follow. "You're babying her, Jack," Leah calls out. You grab Genesis by the elbow so she won't run back and start arguing. "Okay, you're not going to find anything low calorie," you tell her as you pick up a plate and guide her between the offerings. "But you can stay away from the fried stuff, and you can go low carb by sticking to the—" "Oh I don't care," Genesis says. She yanks the plate from you and seizes an egg roll with her bare hands. "Now I'm pissed off. But as long as we're over here—" She darts a glance back at the others. "What happened out at Sydney McGlynn's?" She pinches you in the side. "Nothing happened. What did you think was going to happen?" "I don't mean like that. I mean, what did she want to talk to you about?" You give her a look. "You were sitting there when she came over to talk." You pull Genesis's plate from her, and scoop some pepper steak onto it. "She wanted to talk about throwing a party." "Oh, bullshit. If she wanted to have a party she'd've had one by now. But what's it like out at her place? Does live in a trailer park? Is that why she doesn't want anyone coming out to see where she lives?" "Jesus, Genesis!" You scoop some kung pao chicken onto her plate, and block her as she darts a hand out toward the fried rice. "She lives in a really nice place northwest of town. It's big, no other houses around. She could have half the senior class out there." "Oh, so she's just stuck up and doesn't want to have people out." "Will you stop it? She wants to have a big Halloween party, is what she wants. I told her she should do something for fall break instead." There's nothing else in the buffet line that would be good for Genesis, so you lead her back to the table. Thank God the conversation there has moved on. Alex has fallen back into his cell phone, while the others are laying plans for the night. Leah is noodling around with the idea of a "board game" night with some of her friends from the Trivial Pursuit Club, and Randy reminds the table that Maggie Crenshaw is having a party out at her place, but— "Warehouse," Genesis declares. Everyone looks at her, a little startled. Randy gets a lopsided grin. "Cool," he says. "I'm serious," Genesis insists. "After Maggie's, let's go out to the Warehouse!" "Who's playing?" Philippa asks. "No one," Alex says. "It's dee-jay night." "Who's the dee-jay?" "Let's go out there early!" Genesis exclaims, her eyes brightening. She squirms in her seat. "Like, after we're done here?" "They're not gonna be done setting up!" Leah protests. "Nothing gets started out there 'til eleven, at least." "Gives us more time with the guys doing the setting up!" Genesis is now squirming so hard it looks like she's trying to bore a hole in the chair with her butt. "Lots of people go out early to— We could help them set up!" Randy winces. "That's not my idea of—" he starts to say. But Philippa interrupts him. "Who's working out there tonight?" she demands of Genesis in a hard voice. Genesis only grins. Her eyes are wet. "Blake?" Philippa asks. Genesis squeaks. "God damn it, Genesis," Leah mutters. "Sometimes I think you'd sell your soul just to get Blake to look at you." * * * * * Jack Li doesn't smoke, at least not often, and then only when he's got something really serious to chew over or if he's trying to be sociable. It's the former case now, though you had to spend some little time chatting with Randy behind the Panda Garden. As the supper party was breaking up—Philippa and Genesis driving off together in one direction; Leah and Alex separately in another—you followed Randy outside for a smoke and, cadging one cigarette off him as you talked about marching band matters, and then a second as he left. But you stayed behind, leaning against the building, pondering furiously. I think you'd sell your soul just to get Blake to look at you. Genesis had giggled at Leah's accusation. Then she asked if anyone knew where the devil hangs out so she could sign a contract. You didn't volunteer that one of his emissaries was sitting next to her. The "Blake" in question is Blake O'Brien, one of the football players. Genesis has been crushing on him hard since the start of the school year. Your first thought is the obvious, simple one. Make that deal with Genesis. Offer her Blake as a boyfriend in return for joining the cult that you're setting up. It would be child's play on your end to set it up. You'd just have to get a mind-controlling mask onto Blake. But instinctively you know that simple plan wouldn't work. Even if you made the offer to Genesis, she'd just laugh at it, and even if you got her to take it seriously, she'd never accept it. But what if you didn't make her an offer? What if you simply granted her wish, without warning, and then demanded payment? What if you gave her Blake O'Brien as a boyfriend, and then demanded that she join the Brotherhood? That was a more promising idea, though a complicated one, and Leah nudged you to ask what was wrong as you fell silent at the table while contemplating it. And now here you are, behind the Panda Garden, furiously sucking down a cigarette while trying to figure out how to accomplish it. Because you've only one trick you can use for bullying people into joining your Brotherhood: body swapping with a mask. You finish the cigarette and hurl the butt away before you come up with any solutions. But as you climb into the minivan, two related thoughts click against each other, like billiard balls. If you body-swapped people who didn't want to be body-swapped, you could hold them hostage, and force them to do what you wanted them to. Like, force them to join your Brotherhood. Or you could body-swap people into better positions, and threaten to un-swap them if they didn't help the Brotherhood out. You mull these ideas for awhile in the parking lot of the Panda Garden. Gary Chen and Alex Sheehan—those are two assholes you could hurt with a body swap. Genesis Lee—she'd sell her soul (she joked) to get close to Blake. Your old friend Keith, it occurs to you, is someone else who might pay a pretty good price to get out from under the thumb of the bullies who harass him. And there are probably others. Maybe dozens. Maybe everyone at school could be sorted into one of the two categories: people who'd pay any price to get their bodies back, and people who'd pay any price to keep an upgrade. The challenge, of course, is controlling the people you recruit. If you don't turn them into a bunch of pedisequoses, they might be too hard to control. But if what Fake-Nicholas told you is true about not being able to execute a rite, maybe you need to try it with real people anyway. Next: "Candor and Candidates" |
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
