The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)

A Hairpin Change in Plans

Previously: "Half-Truths and Fake Friends" 

You text Chelsea to ask of you can meet and talk after school about "the project"; she tells you to by in the loft at five, when she will have thirty minutes she can spare you.

"So I've got someone all picked out for you at Eastman," she announces as you step through the door. A mischievous smile dimples her cheeks. "Do you want to know who? Were you the kind of kid who peeked at his Christmas presents early?"

"That's actually what I want to talk to you about," you reply. "Um, do you mind changing plans around?"

Her face falls. "What?"

"Well, changing schools is what I mean. I still want to do the 'life borrowing' thing."

"But we are changing schools. I've got it all lined up for you to—"

"No, I mean, make the switch with someone here at Westside instead of at Eastman."

Her eyes widen. "But I thought you wanted to get out of Westside!"

"That's what I changed my mind about."

Chelsea stares at you, then throws up her hands.

"Oh, honestly, Will! I go through all the trouble of setting a thing up with—"

"Was it really that hard to set up?" Chelsea seems so upset that you almost back down then and there.

She glowers. "Well, I had to make a really embarrassing phone call! Practically got down on my knees and pleaded with— It's Alyssa Randal, if you want to know. The head cheerleader at Eastman? You were having so much fun being Kelsey that I thought—"

"Well, what about being a cheerleader here at Westside?"

Chelsea does a double take at you. "What?" she again demands.

"What about switching lives with a cheerleader here at Westside? I, um, like the idea, but could we make it one of the girls out here?"

Chelsea's eyes narrow. "Who?"

"Well, that I still want to be a surprise. But someone here at Westside."

Chelsea puts a hand on her hip and gives you a very close stare. "Is something going on?"

"No," you lie. "It's just that I got to thinking that, you know, I don't really have to move to Eastman to get a new experience. And in fact, if I was here at Westside, I might even get a better perspective on things."

A new angle on this very awkward proposal suddenly occurs to you.

"It was something you said last Monday," you blurt. "You know, when I got this idea, you said something about how I actually have it pretty good, and if I could see myself from the outside, it would help me appreciate it better."

"Hmm. I don't remember saying that. I'm pretty sure it's something you said."

"Well—"

"But it's a good idea," she declares with sudden excitement, "and I'm glad you had it." She steps up to squeeze your forearm and beam at you. "Okay, that's what we'll do."

"Great," you sigh with relief. "And maybe you can—"

"Except, does it have to be one of the girls on the squad?" she interrupts you. "Can't it be, I dunno, Kelsey again, or someone like her? Only," she continues, "the girls on the squad are either friends of mine, so you know, so I'd, uh, rather not—" She grimaces instead of coming out and describing you and she are about to do to someone. "Or they're not my friends, and then, you know, it would be really awkward for us to get together."

Not my friends, she says. Is that Chelsea's way of saying Girls who hate and who I hate back? It would be a powerful objection if it didn't play exactly into what you want from her.

"Well, you're going to switch places with someone too, still," you point out. "Right? So why can't we both be on the cheer squad? Both of switch with someone on the squad, I mean. And if you don't want to switch places with one of your friends," you add as Chelsea opens her mouth, "we could both switch with some of the girls who aren't your friends. Then it wouldn't be, uh, awkward for us to meet up."

Chelsea freezes with her mouth open. Then she shuts it with a snap. "Like who?" she says through frozen lips.

"Oh, I dunno. I don't want to name anyone, because I want it to be a surprise. So you pick. Someone for me, and whoever you could stand to be. There is one, isn't there?"

Chelsea blinks, then looks down at the floor. She starts to pace, slowly, with her head down. You hold your breath for what feels like two, three minutes.

"Yes," Chelsea finally says.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, there is one," she says. "A couple, actually." She stops in the middle of the loft and looks up at you.

"I like the idea, Will. It took me a minute to get used to it. But I think—" She sucks in a cheek. "But I think it'll be good for you, I really do. And I'm totally willing to help."

"Oh." A hot flash rolls up your spine. "Thanks."

She smiles—a tight, hard thing. "No, thank you, Will. In fact, I think I can get us set up tonight."

"That soon?"

"Sure. If we've got everything ready to go. Do we?"

"Sure, I think." The masks are all made, and everything else was on hand. "I'm really sorry to have sprung all this on short notice."

Her smile warms.

"It's alright, Will," she says, and hops over to squeeze your arm again, this time with both hands. "You've been such a good friend to me since Gordon's, um, accident. This is just me repaying you just a little bit for everything you've done."

You return her smile with a rather more sickly one of your own. It's with relief that you receive her confession that she has to break things to go home for dinner.

* * * * *

Well, things went a lot better—a lot easier—than you were expecting. She practically lunged at the idea of switching places with one of the girls that she abuses on the cheerleading squad. It certainly helped that she was already planning to switch you with a cheerleader (even if it was one over at Eastman), and that she herself ruled out the idea of switching with one of her friends. So there was almost nowhere else for her to go but the place you wanted to steer her toward anyway.

So why does it feel like she wound up maneuvering you?

There was something almost smug about her smile and the end, and the way she thanked you. And she got very cagey, too. It reminded you of the first couple of times you met her up in the loft, where she acted like there were secrets that she wanted to keep from you.

She couldn't have had the same idea as you had, could she? It doesn't seem like she did, because you did have to argue her into it, at least a little bit. No, the more you think about it, the more it feels like she liked your idea because she saw something in it for herself.

But what could that be?

* * * * *

Hours pass with no word from Chelsea. You do hear from Caleb, though, and put him off with the (true as far as it goes) excuse that you're having a hard time connecting with Chelsea. By ten o'clock, you text Caleb to tell him that you've given up for the evening on getting to Chelsea and that you'll try again tomorrow; but you text Chelsea to ask what is going on.

Do u want to b suprised or not? she texts back. When you reply that you'd rather be surprised, she tells you that she'll see you tomorrow with your new identity.

The night passes slowly after you've gone to bed—a mix of the anticipation of the night before Christmas with the dread of the night before a make-or-break finals exam. You wake early, though it's a Saturday, and churn the bed sheets for an hour or more as you wonder uselessly at what the day will bring.

A break in the suspense finally comes at a little after ten, when Chelsea texts to tell you to meet her up at Nirdlinger's Department Store at eleven. Bring ur mask, she adds.

You've already got the blank packed. But as you pick up your bag, on an impulse you snatch up the mask that Caleb made of you, to take it out too, for it occurs to you that you can recycle it, giving you an extra blank on hand for when you next need a mask.

"Is this where we're doing it?" you ask Chelsea when you catch up to her in the women's shoes section.

"It's where you're doing it," she replies. "Over there, actually." She nods at the entrance to the changing rooms.

"What about you, when do we take care of you?"

"I took care of myself last night." She covers her giggles with her fingertip. "Can't tell the difference between me and the real me, can you?"

You stare, then flinch. It's a fake!

"I was told to send you along when you got here," she continues. "Off you go." She pats you on the butt. And does she give you a little pinch, too? You're very lightheaded as you totter off toward the changing rooms.

Voices sound from behind a half-open door, and as you pass it, someone calls out your name. Yumi Saito—the cheerleader that Chelsea caused to cry last week—steps out of one of the rooms.

"Hey there," she purrs. "Shopping for a new look?"

"Uh—" You can only boggle at her.

Her smile sharpens. "I know one that would suit you. Just go in there." With a firm hand to your shoulder, she propels you into the room across the hall. "Be with you in a minute."

Your hands break into a hard sweat, and you tremble as you wait. A minute later, Yumi steps in to join you. She has a mask in her hand. "Sit on the bench and close your eyes," she says, "and you'll get that big surprise."

You comply, and something warm covers your face.

Then you know no more.

Next: "Another Hairpin Curve" 

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