Chapter #31First Days at Eastman by: Seuzz   "Okay, whatever. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe not." You watch him carefully for any belligerent moves as you turn to leave the room, but he doesn't do anything. "Come on, let's go," you tell Alyssa when you're back down on the gym floor.
"Where we goin'?" Lynch grins, but you ignore him. Alyssa gives him a flirtatious smile, but follows you out.
"Fucker's causing me all kinds of trouble," you fume as you walk back out to the car. "So we'll have to do it at the old clubhouse." Of course, you don't have a key to it any more, so you call the Prescott golem. "Yo, I need the key to the school basement," you say as soon as you answer.
"Something wrong with the fuck room?" he asks insolently.
"Yeah, it's full of big, swinging dicks. I'll be over at your place in a few minutes."
"I'll just meet you out there," he replies, and hangs up before you can argue.
* * * * *
He's waiting out front when you arrive, and cocks an inquisitive eyebrow at Alyssa. "So, is she--?" he starts to ask.
"She's none of your business," you say.
But Alyssa grins impishly at him. "Ooh, you're kind of cute," she says. His eyes widen, then fall.
"Don't tease him," you rebuke her, and she laughs. "Toss the keys over here. Then fuck off."
"Don't I get to watch?" he asks as he fishes the key ring from his pocket.
"You like to play it dangerous. I should bend you backwards and tie your feet around your neck."
"Oh, don't be mean to him," Alyssa says. "If he wants to watch, let him."
"Don't get used to her being nice to you," you grumble at him as you unlock the door. Maybe it's the residual effects of the hex you put on Patterson, or maybe you're just embarrassed to be looking at your old form, but you find yourself disliking the golem's company.
The others follow you down the stairs, and Alyssa perches on a table, swinging her feet. You take the blank mask from your kit and ask her to get undressed. You've already got the inner surface of Steve's mask golemized, so the change-over should be quick.
"Don't you have to take that anime band off her before you copy her?" the golem asks.
"Technically, I don't think it makes a difference, but yeah, I'll take it off her first." You carefully avoid his eyes as you rip the band off Alyssa's forehead, and smoothly slide the mask onto her. She drops back, unconscious. "Now tell me, Tilley," you say as you turn a cold gaze upon him. "Why were you so keen to watch?"
He stares. "What did you call me?" he croaks uneasily.
"I called you by your real name. How come you're wearing my mask?"
"What makes you think--?"
"The golem wouldn't know anything about the anima bands, and I'd know enough not to call them 'anime' bands. You and that Pokemon shit."
He wobbles on his feet, and stares at the floor. "Yeah, okay, you got me." He shrugs. "Just trying to figure out the way you think."
"You know I'm really pissed at you, right?"
"I thought that was the reason I was supposed to keep your golem," he shoots back. "The way Caleb explained it, it's like a check and balance thing."
He's got a point, but you're not willing to grant it explicitly. "You've been getting up my nose ever since I switched with Patterson."
"Well, you've been acting like a dick ever since you switched."
"We gave you Westside, so if you can't handle Gordon--!"
"We're supposed to be helping each other, but--!"
You grab him by the belt buckle and hoist him into the air, pinning him against a bookshelf. "Look, if you want Patterson's help after I'm over in Eastman, I'll order him to help you. But I'm trying to get out of Westside, and if you won't help me out, why should I help you?" He glowers. "And I've been helping you. I got you Cindy, and Caleb and me got you Seth. So it seems to me you've been really ungrateful."
His eyes fall, and he squirms a little. "Yeah, okay. As long as you tell Patterson to help me--" he says in a surly tone.
"And you're still doing it," you sigh, and drop him. "Now, you wanna give me and Alyssa some privacy while I finish making the switch?"
He shrugs in an ill-favored manner, and leaves. You watch through the windows of the basement until he's gone. When you turn back to the table, you see that the mask has reappeared on Alyssa's face. You sweep it off and quickly complete the change-over. A few minutes later, the new Steve Patterson is getting dressed--and distending the front of his shorts with a rising erection--as you admire your new, naked form in the basement's mirror.
Alyssa Randal isn't skinny, but she is sculpted from muscle, not fat. Wide hips on strong thighs; a firm stomach that even shows traces of abdominal muscles; strong arms and shoulders. Her complexion is dark--much darker than Kendra Saunders--and her smile isn't wide and gleaming. But she has a strong, imperious air. You tilt your chin at your reflection; yes, that's the look that daunts troublemakers. You turn it on Patterson. "Get dressed," you tell him brusquely. "Help Keith--or Seth or Caleb or Prescott, whoever he's looking like--with his switches." Patterson snorts and spits into a corner, but nods.
* * * * *
You are relaxed and cheerful the next morning as you drive to school with Alyssa's favorite light pop playing on the car radio. It's a kind of music you normally despise, but Alyssa is so sexy and popular and cool and confident that you love everything about her, including her taste in music. "Oh, girl, aren't you looking sexy this morning!" you call out cheerfully to Jenny Taylor, the girls' soccer captain. She's dressed out for morning practice--sports bra and top tightly binding her prodigious chest; shorts hugging her strong hips and thighs--and she turns a weary eye on you.
"I only got three hours sleep last night," she says, and pulls back on her long blonde hair and binds it with a bit of elastic. "Minnow was sick, and mom is visiting my aunt, so I had to help Dad with her."
"Isn't this, like, the third time this year?" you frown. Jenny just shakes her head, and talks with you about her little sister as the two of you walk toward the gym.
It's the first of a long series of morale-boosting conversations. What a contrast with Chelsea, you marvel from deep inside Alyssa. Besides Jenny, there's Rhianna Miller, another African-American cheerleader, who has had another argument with her insane mother; Hannah Chamberlain, the girls' basketball captain, whose on-and-off romance with Jordan Reynolds is in the "off" state; Jordan himself, who gets a hard talking to when he exasperatedly calls Hannah a "psycho" (even though he may be right); and Faye Griffin, whose romantic pursuit of Cooper Black is playing all sorts of havoc with the debate team that the two of them (and you) are part of. Between these sessions, you huddle with the girls who feed you gossip. Today's news brings fresh rumors about Kelly Trask, who is widely believed to be banging the Irish exchange student who is staying with her family. You drink it in eagerly, but in commentary play up how unfair it is--"Like it's anyone's business"--and though you don't give any orders, you don't have to. Your foot soldiers will soon be stamping out the rumors as a lot of hateful talk toward a sweet girl.
So you're feeling pleased with yourself as you saunter into gym after last period to watch the boys' basketball team practice. You're not surprised to see that Patterson there; he tilts his head in your direction, and with some finger waggling you indicate you want to talk to him afterward. He's aggressive as he plays, and though he doesn't do any yelling, you can tell that Ian and several of the others are sorely tempted to yell at him. No one follows him after practice as he wearily trots over to where you're sitting. "How'm I doing?" he asks.
"Okay with the ball, but I think Ian's planning to kill you."
"Prissy little bastard," he sneers. "Fuck, if Gordon and me were drilling these guys--"
"You mean, like fucking them up the ass," you interrupt mirthfully.
"Fuck you, and that doubles as an invitation." He plants his hands on either side of your hips and leans in close. "I wanna go off some place real quiet with you and--"
"Not till after we get thing set up, honey. Oh, did you and Keith get Gordon taken care of?"
"Pfft. Didn't talk to the cocksucker once today." He straightens up and clasps his bicep, to peer down at an incipient zit. "Or if I did, he didn't tell me it was him."
You frown. Tilley is being shifty. Maybe you should switch back into Patterson, but pretend to be the golem. That might let you keep an eye on Keith without his realizing that's what you're doing.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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