The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)

Frenemies in High Places

Previously: "A Side Quest Before the Main Quest" 

"For fuck's sake, chill out, Will," Amanda Ferguson tells you. She twists around so she can study her butt in the mirror.

"Exactly," Kelsey agrees. She too is preening into the bedroom mirror, smoothing down her jeans skirt and tweaking the beads that click in her long, brunette hair. "You think it's going to be a problem now? You're in good. Way good."

You were hoping so. But you had to make sure, which is why you hurried over to join Mike and Carlos—now transformed into their new betas—at Kelsey's house as soon as you had a chance.

But first you had to suffer through a night and a day of silence from your colleagues.

Mike and Carlos were scheduled to ambush Kelsey and Amanda yesterday afternoon, while you were at that pizza party, but you never heard from them, not even when you texted Jessica and Eva directly, and it wasn't until this morning—Friday morning—that you got a text from Cindy confirming that the switch had been pulled off. You went looking for them at school, but they pointedly ignored you, which only fed your paranoia. Not until eighth period did Jessica lean over to show you a text from Kelsey: Tell Jenny to come out to my house ths afternoon at 430. Even then, you had to get directions from Carlos's first, now-abandoned beta on how to get out there, because it sits in isolated splendor way out in the country.

"You make it sound like she had a plan," Kelsey—Carlos Montoya, in disguise—continues, her eyes locked on her reflection. Kelsey has a bold nose, and eyes that easily fall into a scowl or a squint, but she's smiling now as she runs light fingertips along the lines of her peasant blouse. "It was probably just a casual comment she made. Who do you think she'd have said it to?" she asks Amanda. "Brooke? Olivia?"

"Don't you remember?" you interrupt. "Don't you have her memories yet?"

"Totally," Kelsey retorts. "So it wasn't that big a deal, whatever Kelsey said, 'cos I don't remember it. Probably she just said something about how you weren't nearly as cool as you suddenly thought you were, and needed someone to explain that to you."

Her words bite, even if she's just repeating them, not asserting them. "Is that what Kelsey thinks? Is that what you're thinking now?"

"Tch. Jenny." Kelsey turns to give you a direct, mischievous smile. "I think the world of you. Now. Same as I think the world of Will Prescott. Now."

Amanda snorts, and tugs at the tiny, black silk dress she has wormed herself into; the hem floats just under the bottom of her ass, and only has to drift up half an inch or so to uncover the line of the black, lace underwear she's wearing beneath. "I guess we really must love you, Will," she says. "It sure seems like we're working for you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You bridle.

"She means that every time we get ourselves a new body," Kelsey explains, "it's part of some scheme to help you out. To make you popular. To make Geoff unpopular. Of course, we're having fun doing it," she adds as she screws a smile onto her face, "which makes it all worth it." She glances back at Amanda. "Doesn't it?"

"Sure." Amanda drapes a fist-sized purse over her shoulder and studies the effect in the mirror. "I just find myself wondering what we're going to do with ourselves if Philip ever decides we have to go back to being ourselves."

"If," Kelsey replies. Her dark eyes flick over at you, and there's no missing the hunger that briefly flares in them. Then her mouth wrenches back into one of her patented, insincere smiles. "But you won't have that problem, will you, Will, dear?" she says, and she lays a palm against your cheek. "You're going to have a great life by the time we get done with you."

You pull away. Is Carlos trying to be creepy?

"Well, I just wanted to make sure," you stammer. "Like, if Kelsey had started anything up already—"

"Actually, I have started up one thing for you." She takes out her cell phone. "As soon as I got your text about coming out, I—" Her eyes pop as she glances down at the screen. "Jesus! It's already after five fucking o'clock! Can you believe it?"

"What is this, Truth or Dare?" Amanda dryly asks.

"I mean Deanna! Fucking—!" She trails off in a string of curses as she sinks against a vanity table and starts typing into her phone.

"Is Deanna on her way out?" you ask. Your heart beats very hard, once, in your chest.

"Oh, who the fuck knows, she was supposed to be out here thirty minutes ago." Amanda does a double-take and cocks her head as she studies you. "Are we supposed to do anything about Jenny, like we're doing with you?" she asks. "'Cos if we could get her out of that windbreaker and those jeans and that ball cap—"

"There's nothing wrong with the way Jenny dresses!"

Amanda's eyes are like ice cubes, even as she shows you a ridge of snow-white teeth between her vermillion-stained lips.

"Is that why you wanted Jenny as a beta, Will?" she asks from under a skeptically cocked brow. "Because she dresses like you used to? Tch, bet you won't find anything like those things in Deanna's closet."

* * * * *

Deanna—flake!—says she got lost, and that's why she is late getting out to Kelsey's. You could believe it if you were feeling charitable, for you almost got lost on the way out too—not all of the curving lanes leading to the sprawling, white-stone mansion and its neighbors were clearly marked with road signs.

You hear Deanna's voice long before she turns into the bedroom; all way up the stairs and down the hall she gabbles and giggles to Amanda, who went down to let her in. Kelsey hands you a mask as you're waiting. "Make it fast," she says. "I don't want to waste any more time with her than we have to." That's fine with you; just the sound of her voice sets your teeth on edge. It's Jenny who has a problem with her, you have to remind yourself.

At last the door swings open and Deanna steps in with Amanda. Both girls are pale of complexion. But where Amanda is a dead-white alabaster, Deanna flushes with pinks and peaches. Her eyes sparkle and her teeth gleam, and she has piled her golden-red tresses atop her head in a sloppy beehive. Something about her hair and the way she's dressed—a sleeveless, pale-green dress whose flimsy hem bounces lightly off her thighs—makes you think she's on her way to a party.

Well, it is Friday night.

"Oh God, Kels, hey!" she gushes. "Sorry I'm late, I got lost, can you believe it? I— Hey, Jenny!" She twinkles at you, then turns back to Kelsey. "So, about tomorrow night, is there anything I can do to help? I can—"

"We can talk about that later," Kelsey says. She grabs Deanna by the wrist and twists her around, then grabs her by the other wrist. The smile falls off Deanna's face as she struggles in Kelsey's grasp; her eyes pop as Amanda marches up to seize her by an elbow. "Now, Will," Kelsey says, and gives you a very direct look.

You gulp, and the mask slips from your fingers. "Jesus, Will," Kelsey fumes.

"I got it! I—!" You stoop to pick it up, then freeze in mid-bend when you look up to see Deanna staring down at you. Her mouth is a perfect "o", and a draped curl of hair slides down the side of her head. As she squeals in her captors' grip, you have the sudden impression that she's about fall apart, like a cloth doll that's been badly stitched together.

It's that impression, not Amanda's hissed "Will!" that puts you back in motion. You lurch at Deanna, who flinches, but you catch her face in the mask. For a moment she wavers on her feet. Then she tumbles to the floor, dragging Kelsey and Amanda down with her.

"Christ, Will!" Kelsey explodes as she struggles to shove Deanna off. "Will you give me a fucking hand, don't just fucking stand there!" She flings a hand out at you. "What was your fucking deal?"

"You just took me by surprise, is all!"

"You're a fucking incompetent!" Amanda hisses; her eyes glitter balefully. "We go through all this work and you just about—"

"Hey!" You surprise yourself and the other girls both with your shout. "If I'm gonna have to spend the next few weeks with you two cunts—"

You break off long enough to spring over and slam the bedroom door shut, in case anyone was listening.

"Then you can just give Deanna and her beta to someone else! You know," you yell at your astonished co-conspirators, "I almost changed my mind about the whole thing, about Geoff and this project and even doing any of this stuff with you guys when you said you wanted to be these girls! These cunts! Because—! Jesus! Just listen to yourselves! I knew you'd be just like them! I mean, would you be this goddamned—"

You feel your eyes bulging as you struggle for a suitable adjective. "Would you be this goddamned cunty," you shout, "with Fairfax or Keith or—? Or is it just me you get all—" You hiccup, and run out of breath.

"Jesus, Will," Amanda says. She actually looks scared. So does Kelsey.

"Look, I'm sorry," you tell them when the silence has grown awkward. The storm of emotion hasn't passed, but it has started to recede. "I just don't do well with—"

"Maybe it's Jenny you don't do well with," Kelsey interrupts. She gives you a meaningful look. "She doesn't do well with Kelsey and Amanda, does she? So who exactly is yelling at us?"

And that almost causes you to flip out all over again. Deanna is going to be your beta, but that doesn't mean you have to be inside her mask.

Next: "Betting on the Beta" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 4)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)"