The Book of Masks (Vol. 1)

The Counterfeit Asshole

Previously: "The Kind of People Who Have Special Plans " 

Could Carson and James do anything to help you? You don't know. But even if you tried to get their help, they're a couple of nosy bastards, and they'd want to know what for.

So that leaves you the problem of how to draw Seth away from Cindy so you can get close to her, and you don't know enough about his schedule or hers to know when you could do that, let alone how. You chew on the problem as you trudge off to math class.

And it's during Calculus that you get a wonderfully evil idea, so wonderful that you bolt upright in your desk. Fortunately, no one seems to notice the wicked grin that spreads over your face as you contemplate the perfect way to have fun while destroying Seth Javits's life ...

* * * * *

You're stiff and achy all over when you wake, and you gasp and grunt as you pry and pull yourself out from the passenger-side footwell of your truck. Your leg muscles are cramping, and once you're seated on the truck bench, you arch your back as you make a mighty stretch.

You bolted from school the moment the final bell rang, not even bothering to stop at your locker first. Sprinting hard, you got out to the student parking lot almost before anyone else, and so were able to get away from school before the exiting traffic got too thick. Your mom wheeled in surprise as you came running in from the garage. "Notstayingf'rdinnergettings'mthingdoingstuffwithCaleb'nKeith!" you yelled as you flew past her to the stairs. From your top drawer you snatched the last of your cash, and from your bottom drawer you grabbed the mask. Then you hurled yourself downstairs again.

Thirty minutes later you were parked in front of Academy Sports, on the other side of town. Your heart was beating hard as you kicked off your shoes. Then, on an impulse—because you weren't sure how the mask was supposed to work—you peeled off the rest of your clothes and burrowed down into the footwell. Your breath was coming in quick spasms as you picked up the mask, and you closed your eyes and tried to settle yourself lest you hyperventilate. Only when you felt your pulse racing along somewhere below Mach 2 did you swallow hard and put the mask to your face.

It was cool to the touch as it closed over your brow and nose and cheeks and chin. Then it got very warm and heavy, and you felt yourself being pulled down someplace black. You must have lost consciousness, for you felt something like the internal "reset" like you get when you wake up from a deep sleep. You were stiff and achy all over—no surprise, given how tightly you'd folded yourself down into the footwell—and you gasped and grunted as you pried yourself out from the ...

So now here you are. You close your eyes and bite your lip and try to anticipate what you'll see when you open them again and look down at yourself. You do feel different, but maybe that's just imagination and anticipation ...

You open your eyes and blink at what you see.

A belly. Thighs. And a lot of hair with a pink sausage nestled inside.

Okay, so far, not real different. Still, you tense.

But it's when you examine more narrowly what you've got down there that the differences start to appear.

There's a lot less hair on your legs, for one thing. The skin seems a little darker, too; more mottled. As for the muscles— Well, those are some serious pistons you've got down there now.

Your stomach was already pretty flat, but now it's hard, and when you suck it in, four ... six ... eight ... ten, maybe? ridges show. And you've got an outie for a bellybutton, instead of a boring innie.

And as for your cock— You suck in your lips as you pinch it between finger and thumb and pull it out. Okay. It's a penis. Circumcised, like your old one. Is this one any longer? Hard to say, with it being in such a flaccid state, and you're not turning yourself on any by playing with it.

The rest of your body, you find when you turn examine it, is similarly hard and relatively hairless. You clap yourself all over, palming meaty pecs and biceps. As for the face—

You twist the rearview mirror around, and that's when you finally get the shock.

Seth's grey-blue eyes show startled surprise when you lock onto them, and wonderment shows on his horsey face as you run your gaze over his features. You've got a long, bony nose, and taut cheeks stretching between pronounced cheekbones and a lean jaw. Gently you touch your pale mouth with sensitive fingertips, and run them over the smooth skin on your chin. It feels real and natural, and a blush of excitement blooms in your forehead in tandem with the blooming thought, I totally look exactly like Seth Javits!

Only when the breath bursts from your lungs do you realize you were holding it in. You grin at yourself—lips peeling back to show strong, white teeth.

Does anything else need testing out? You try out your voice, but it feels funny talking to yourself, and the words die on your lips. Nor can you think of something really pertinent to say. I'm gonna kick your ass, Prescott? That just sounds like a bad imitation of Javits.

You don't seem to have much going on upstairs, either. No matter how much you concentrate, you can't grasp any of the things that Seth should know, like his parents' names, his address, his birthday, or anything about Cindy. All you've got, apparently, is his face and body.

But that's quite enough for what you're planning. All you need now are some clothes to go with your new look.

Which is why you drove up to Academy. Quickly you scramble back into your old clothes. which are a little tight and cling uncomfortably to you, and your shoes bunch up and pinch badly around your boat-like feet. That's gonna be a problem, you think, for you've got enough money to buy some cheap shorts and a cheap t-shirt. But shoes? You grimace as you limp across the parking lot toward the store.

* * * * *

You solve the shoe problem by getting some flip-flops, and it's a good thing those will work, because it was surprisingly expensive getting WHS Dragons-branded gear. After forking over the cash for some long, red-and-gold basketball shorts, a gray-and-white t-shirt, and a ball cap, all emblazoned with the Westside mascot, you've only got a few dollars and change left over. Still, as you saunter back out to your truck, you feel like a real high school jock. The only off-brand item you bought were some white-framed sunglasses like you've seen Seth wearing. Back in your truck cab, you take a selfie of your new face and look. What a fucking asshole, you can't help thinking as you study it. But you're grinning as you think it.

And now that you're prepared to put your plan into effect, you point your truck toward Westside, in search of girls you can talk to, flirt with, hit on, and—if you're really lucky—get a blow job from.

Because once word of what "Seth" has done gets back to Cindy ... Well, let's just say that you'd be happier being a fake Seth than a real one!

Javits has basketball practice after school, but that should be breaking up by the time you get back to Westside. And, sure enough, you don't spot Seth's truck in the parking lot when you get back. Cindy's probably gone off with him too, which leaves the coast clear for you. The only problem you can see, as you survey the lot, is that there won't be a lot of girls left to pick from. But is that a problem? Though you'd really love to get it on with someone sexy, the point is to get some action while spreading trouble for Javits, and just about any girl could probably do for that.

More serious is the sight of Gordon Black's orange VW Bug—the most recognizable car at school—parked up close to the gym. Gordon is the captain of the basketball squad, and if he or any of his friends are still around, it could be awkward if you ran into them. Or would that be another feature, if you fucked things up for Seth with Gordon and his friends?

The only alternative you can see to cruising around Westside, looking to score with whoever is still on campus, is to drive into and around town, stopping to look in at fast food places in the hope of running into someone. Or going out to the river? That's a likely hang out as well. People go out there to drink and make out. But typically not on a Tuesday afternoon.

It's while you're thinking about the river that you get an even wilder idea. Far and away the most dangerous party spot in the city is "the Warehouse," an abandoned industrial building downtown by the railroad tracks where teen-only parties are held on weekends. It's bad enough then, you've heard, with people getting beaten up and drunk and high off their asses. It's supposed to be far worse during the weekdays, when only the worst teen elements in town hang out there. What would happen if you went there, in disguise as Seth Javits? Could you cause trouble there that would rebound on Seth at school? Or would you just get yourself badly hurt instead?

Next: "The Girls at the Dairy Queen" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 1)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 1)"