%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Dane's Destiny"  "Whoa whoa whoa!" you tell not-Evie. "Time out! What's all this about military school?" She shoots not-Dane, who's silently standing nearby, a quick, angry look before answering. "It's this Dane guy's cousin," she says. "He's all pissed off at Dane because he messed something up. So he set it up with Dane's mom to send Dane off to some military school out in Oregon, and he's supposed to be leaving tomorrow. That's how come we need to— "Hang on," she interrupts herself, and her expression turns shrewd. "Don't you know all this? Didn't you tell me you were hiding out as—" She jerks her thumb at not-Dane. "Yeah, I was," you admit, "but I didn't know about any military school. All that must'a happened after I, uh—" You wince, and avoid looking not-Dane in the eye. "Well, we need to get Evie out of there," not-Evie resumes. "And unless you want to go off to high school boot camp—" She jabs you in the breastbone with a sharp forefinger. "We need to find someone else to be Dane!" You scratch your nose. You're more than a little freaked out at seeing someone who looks like Evie Cummings—who is a sweet and rather shy girl—honking at you like an angry goose. But beyond that, you're also confused as to why Paulina isn't trying to throw you back into Dane's life, but is talking instead about making another switch. "So who do you want to stick in for her?" you ask, trying to buy yourself some time. "Madison Crawford," not-Evie says, and she sounds very tired as she again rattles off that list of names. "Courtenay Blessing. Amber Hartsell. Or, um, Alice Meehan." She looks at not-Dane for confirmation, but not-Dane says nothing. "Why one of them? No, wait, never mind. I'm not gonna worry about that. Your idea, if I get it," you continue as not-Evie frowns at you, "is that one of them goes in for Dane. And Evie ...?" "She gets her life back and I get mine back. Then you—" Again she pokes you in the breastbone with a sharp fingernail, "You turn yourself whoever it is that you turn into Dane here." "Maybe he doesn't want to be a girl," not-Dane murmurs, but not-Evie shuts her up with a quick glare. "That's the rule," not-Evie says. You could argue, and part of you wants to. But the larger part of you decides that you can live with what Paulina is suggesting. It's either that, or you get sent to military school in the body of Dane Mathias. "Alright," you tell her. "This afternoon?" "This afternoon what?" not-Evie says, and for the first time she looks wrongfooted. "This afternoon we do the thing. With you and Evie and me and ... whoever." You gesture at Dane. "Switch masks around." Not-Evie stares. Then her eyes narrow. "What are you up to?" "Nothing! I'm going along with you! It's okay with me, I don't care who I have to be, as long as I'm not Dane here. And some of those girls, you know." You jerk your shoulders in a shrug. "I can live with being one of them." Not-Evie stares, and you think you can detect a subtle shade of green stealing over her features. She is truculent and suspicious as you negotiate the details of the swap, and you're sure that she's expecting a trick or a double-cross from you. But you settle the plan as best you can—for you've not yet picked a new identity for yourself—and part for the rest of the day. * * * * * Trouble is, you don't have that long to decide. Whatever trap you're going to set, you need to set it up by the end of the school day. So your first thought is to target Alice Meehan, who you at least share basketball practice with. But of the four girls Paulina named, she would be at the bottom of your list. She's plain, tomboyish, a little goofy, and still has braces. The only thing she has in common with the other three girls that got named is that Paulina doesn't like her. And that's the quality that, sooner rather than later, leads you to pick Madison Crawford. Whatever is going on with Paulina—and despite having Paulina's brain nestled inside yours, you can't figure out what she's thinking—if she's offering you the lives and identities of girls she doesn't like, she would probably want you picking the one she hates the most. The trouble is, because Paulina detests Madison and Madison apparently doesn't care for Paulina, it's going to be tricky to lure her out to Dane's trailer. Fortunately, Paulina's brain is helpful there, and by the end of the day you've made the arrangements and texted not-Evie the details of how it will work. Not-Evie's curt reply (Great) cements the plan. * * * * * It's a little after eight o'clock when you pull up in front of Madison's house. You would text to tell her you're here, but you don't have her number. Instead, you saunter up the front walk to the porch and ring the bell. Her mother answers and lets you in, and you idle a couple of minutes in the foyer after Mrs. Crawford calls upstairs to her daughter, and you feel your irritation sparking into real anger before Madison comes traipsing down. It's like she thinks I'm the boy and I'm picking her up for a date. Oh wait. That's almost exactly what it is, except she doesn't know it. That thought cools most of your anger, and you managed to wrench a smile onto your face when Madison appears. You just catch yourself from telling her that she looks nice. "Have you picked up Ethan yet?" Madison asks without preamble. "No. He's our next stop. Hey, Madison, how you doing tonight?" You can't keep the glower from off your face as Madison returns you a quick, impatient look. "Who else do we have to pick up on the way?" she asks. "My friend Evie. She's on the soccer team?" "Uh huh. She can ride shotgun. Me and Ethan'll take the back." Of course you will, you think as you follow her out into the warm evening air. Ethan Clayborne's the only reason you're letting me pick you up. "You can ride up front with me until we get to his place," you tell her as she starts to get in the back. "That's okay, I like pretending I have a chauffeur." You roll your eyes as you cross around to the driver's side, and glare balefully at her reflection in the rear view mirror after you're behind the wheel. But Madison's got her face turned down to the screen of her cell phone, and doesn't see you. She ignores you the whole drive out, but you're highly conscious of her sitting directly behind you. That's the kind of hatred that Paulina feels for Madison Crawford—and the kind of lust you feel yourself fighting down. Madison Crawford is going to be a cheerleader. She's going to be head cheerleader. She's hasn't announced that intention over the school intercom or anything. But everyone knows that's where she's headed and that's what she wants. She's a small girl, trim and compact, with a taut butt, strong thighs and calves, and boobs that part of you (Paulina) wishes were enhanced with tissue paper and that the other part of you (yourself) is relieved to know are completely real. She has soft, tawny hair that floats back in feathery waves over her ears and behind her shoulders. Her face is small with big eyes, and there are dimples in her chipmunk cheeks. All of this she has tonight packaged up in a jeans skirt, hose and tennis shoes, and a waist-hugging pink sweater. "This isn't the way to Ethan's," she protests when you're almost to Dane's trailer park. "It's the way to where we have to pick him up," you tell her. "He's at a— Oh, didn't I tell you there's another guy we have to pick up? I guess he's going to have to share the back seat with you." You can't help preening a little in the disappointed silence that follows. Madison doesn't get out after you've parked in front of Dane's, and you have to tap at her window before she hops out. She huffs lightly as she does, and pointedly ignores you as she pushes past you. The urge to grab her from behind and fondle her boobs fights with your urge to claw her eyes out. "Whose place is this?" she asks as she fetches up at the trailer door. She holds back to let you up to knock. "A friend of Ethan's. I think. He's a senior." Madison chews on this as you rap at the door. Almost instantly it is flung open. You gasp and start, but it's only Dane. Well, not-Dane. "Hey, you must be Madison," he says. "And, uh, Paulina." "Is Ethan here?" Madison asks. "Be polite, go inside," you growl. You push at her, but it's like her feet are nailed to the stoop. She resists the first few prods, then lets go and tumbles inside. You follow. The inside of the trailer is the same musty, ramshackle mess you remember it being: broken couches and chairs, dirty dishes everywhere. Madison sniffs and tugs at her nose. You don't have to get used to it, you want to jeer at her. Twenty-four hours from now you'll be in a barracks on the other side of the country. "Is Ethan in the back?" you ask not-Dane. But he doesn't answer. Instead, he grabs Madison from behind. She gasps. And that's all she has time to do before you pull out the blank mask you spent all afternoon making and shove it into her face. Next: "Switches in Time" |
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
