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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1065001-Michelle-Doubtfire
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by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183561
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1065001 added February 28, 2024 at 12:13pm
Restrictions: None
Michelle Doubtfire
Previously: "Bros and HosOpen in new Window.

You make a great show of welcoming Stacey onto the cheerleader squad at the post-class practice session, and of course Jack and Kendra follow your lead. The other girls are more muted, though the Garner girls do seem to go out of their way to make Stacey feel welcome. (Cindy, though, is only frostily polite.) Stacey blushes all over for sheer pleasure.

"I've got a little business I have to talk over with Jack," you tell her in the changing room afterward. You're in the shower, washing off the sweat and heat, and your skin seems to bloom under the warm, soapy water. "I won't be long. How about you wait— Oh, hell!" You shake your hair loose with a toss of your head. "We won't be sharing any secrets! Just come hang out with us back in the classroom. You know, under the mezzanine?" Even though school is out, there will still be teachers bustling about, so you won't be able to do the duplication and replacement in the middle of the gym.

Your invite leaves Stacey giddy. She seems giddy about everything, and breathlessly volunteers that she's already talked to the counselors about switching her schedule around, and that starting by next week at the latest she'll be able to start making it to first-period practice, too.

"Great! Oh my God," you gasp, "that is so refreshing, having a girl who's willing to give a hundred percent to the squad. It's all I could freaking do to get the others to give half that!"

As you dress afterward at your locker, you text Michelle to confirm that she is waiting in the library for your signal. She is.

"This'll just be a few minutes," you tell Stacey as you leave the changing room together. "Tell you what, how about—" You pause to dig through your bag. "How about you get me and you a soda from the machine—my treat—then come find us in the classroom."

You smile at Stacey's back as she skips away. In the classroom, where Number Seven is waiting per your orders, you instruct him on what's to come next.

* * * * *

"My name is Stacey Stahl, and I serve you," the new doppelganger tells Michelle. Her eye is bright, and she stands poised and alert.

She turns that bright stare on you as Michelle instructs her in her duties (for now): "Chelsea is also one of us," she says. "And so is, um, Jack." Number Seven lounges more casually with hands in his pockets, watching and listening to all this with a veiled amusement. "So is Kendra. Listen to them and work with them."

"Do you want to mention A-Two and A-Four, boss?" you remind her.

"Oh, right." Michelle seems oddly rattled. "Christine Miles and Ryder Hillberger are also one of us," she tells A-Five. "Christine is A-Two, um, Kendra is A-Three, Ryan is A-Four. Chelsea here is Number One, and, um, Jack is—" She looks at you.

"He's Number Seven."

"Is there an A-One?" A-Five naturally asks.

"I think," you answer for Michelle, "you told us we'd meet her later, boss."

"That's right. When the time comes." Michelle shifts from one foot to another. "Any questions?"

"What do you want me to do now?" A-Five asks.

"Go home. I mean, do whatever Stacey would do."

A-Five looks at you.

"I'm supposed to take her home," you say. "I mean, that's what I arranged with Stacey. Unless you've got something to talk to me about?" you hint.

"Oh yeah, I do," she says. "Um—"

"In that case, maybe Number Seven can take A-Five home. Or they can go do something." You turn to Number Seven. "What are your plans now?"

"A bunch of us were going to meet at Panera."

"That sounds terrific to me," you say. "Start worming A-Five in with Jack's friends. Does that seem like a good idea, boss?" you ask Michelle.

"Yes," she says. "I suppose that would ... work."

"Introduce her to everyone, Number Seven," you tell him as he and A-Five turn for the classroom door. "Make her feel like one of the gang. Just remember, you two, to act like Jack and Stacey. Isn't that what you'd tell them, boss?"

But by this time Michelle has given up even pretending, and collapses against the conference table that dominates the classroom; Number Seven even ignores her to grin and wink at you.

After they're gone, you turn to Michelle. "What's wrong?" you ask. "You seem rattled."

"Just nerves, I guess," she says. "Seven?" she then adds. "How many do you have?"

"Seven, including myself. Do you want another one?"

She hesitates, then shakes her head.

"Yes," you say, "I think six is enough. I almost wish I'd stopped at six. But I needed Jack." Michelle gives you a wary look.

"But what's on your mind, Michelle?"

She groans. "We've still got two more to go," she says. "And I'm not sure I can make it."

"What do you mean?"

She bites her lip.

"I think I can do one more," she says, "the one that I ... picked for myself. After that—" You notice that she has begun to shake. "I don't think I can do this to any more people!"

It's not a like a kick in the gut, exactly, but Michelle's confession does surprise you. Or maybe it doesn't. Though she has gotten a lot more confident at "programming" the new doppelgangers, you have sensed a greater reluctance in her as things have progressed. She was willing to duplicate and replace Christine and Kendra and Ryder and Stacey because these people were bullies that she wanted to control. But now that she's mostly gotten what she wants, those moral qualms she had have reasserted herself.

But she owes you two more doppelgangers. That was the deal: She could name three, and you could name three. And now she is strongly hinting that, having got her three (four, even) she wants to renege on the deal.

"Well, Michelle," you tell her. "When you agreed to help me, you agreed that I could—"

"I know, I know," she says. "But can't you, um—?"

Your eyebrows go up. "Can I what?"

"Can you—? Instead of A-Six or whatever, can't you make that person, um ... Number Eight? Instead? Just you do everything and leave me out of it?" Her face is pleading.

You hold her eye. Then you smile.

"Well, that's generous of you, Michelle. But if I'd wanted eight, I'd have made eight. But I wanted a partner instead. If you're telling me that, as my partner, you only want five ... Well, who's your fifth?"

She hesitates. "You mean, the person that I'm— That I want to—"

"Yes. Have you picked yet?"

She draws a deep breath, and her eyes dart. "Um ... Yeah, I guess."

"Uh huh?"

"It's, it's kind of a weird choice, you'll probably think."

"It's up to you."

"I mean ... a really weird choice."

"I'm not going to make any judgements."

"I mean, I thought about what you said, about it being someone ... fun. Who could bring advantages too. "

"Yeah?" All this throat-clearing is starting to get on your nerves.

She takes another deep breath, and in a quavering voice plunges on.

"Chris Love," she says.

* * * * *

It was Kendra—A-Three—who put the idea in her head.

Not that A-Three suggested directly that Michelle assume the form and identity of Chris Love. Rather, she mentioned him to Michelle as a possible boyfriend, and that started her thinking.

Chris is a senior and a soccer player: a loose-limbed blonde boy with limpid eyes and a meltingly soft smile. He drapes himself in sloppy clothes—loose shorts, too-large muscle shirts, and bandanas—and is known for the casual (and casually confident) way he macks on girls. Lots of times you (well ... Chelsea) have seen him at parties with a boneless arm draped over a girls shoulder as they slouched together on a sofa, sharing a cell phone and giggling. But if he gets physical with girls, the farthest you've seen him go is to kiss them sloppily on the side of the head. There's lots of rumors that he scores lots of tail, and that he'll sleep with anyone. But those are just rumors.

"And then you started talking about how Stacey could get a senior boyfriend," Michelle says. Her eyes wander about the room, settling anywhere but on you. She rubs her arm nervously. "And I was thinking ... well ..." She swallows.

"Well," she says in a rush when you say nothing, "I was thinking that he could be her new boyfriend, and I could be him! Not because I, um, want to be her, um, but because it would be the best place to, um, run things from."

Her gaze is almost frightened as she finally looks at you.

"Look," she says, "it's kind of hard for me to talk to, you know, Christine and Ryder ... and Kendra ... and now Stacey. I'm ... I'm not part of their groups, and it's ... weird."

"I understand."

"But as Chris—"

"That make sense," you assure her. "I totally get it."

But she still looks dubious, and bites her lip. "Also," she says, "all this talk you're having online, about the culture at school, how it needs to change ... I think Chris could help there."

"Really?" You can't keep the skepticism out of your voice, because Chris Love seems like the kind of man-whore that you've been attacking.

But she nods. "He ... he seems like he's got a sensitive side. I think he'd ... Well, I don't think people would be too surprised if he, you know, started saying the same kind of thing."

You smile and clasp Michelle by the arm.

"Michelle," you tell her, "you don't have to convince me. This is your pick, and I totally support it and understand it. I mean, I know I argued you out of being Stacey, but that's because right away it felt wrong to me. This—" You squeeze her arm and beam into her face. "This feels right!"

* * * * *

Does it feel right? Honestly, it feels (as Michelle warned) kind of weird. But if she's on the verge of a breakdown or something, the last thing you want is to push back. So you tell her you'll swap her and Chris soon, probably tomorrow.

And after that?

Maybe some of Chris's confidence will rub off on Michelle. So you decide to wait and see how things go before deciding whether to force a sixth minion on her.

Next: "Love in the AfternoonOpen in new Window.

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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1065001-Michelle-Doubtfire