This choice: Accept Connor's offer so you can get those pictures • Go Back...Chapter #51A Kelsey Back in Character by: Seuzz   Connor says he'll let you play Kelsey this afternoon and this evening if he gets to fuck you—as himself—while you're inside her mask. Why would you ever agree to this? The only advantage is that you'd get to fuck Karl Hennepin—not an attractive proposition—and get some compromising photos of him. That was the whole point of getting a mask of Kelsey; but after all this effort and trial, it seems like a really silly payoff.
You're about to tell Connor to forget it, that he can keep playing Kelsey, when you remember the phone in your hand, and the text from Caleb. He's unhappy with Connor and Justin, and you have the impression he's unhappy with you. You could do him a really big favor if you let him use the afternoon to craft a new mask and use it on another girl.
The fake Kelsey smirks. "Yeah, that's what I thought you'd—"
"I'll do it," you reply, tilting your chin. "But you have to let Caleb make a copy of a new girl, so he doesn't have to be Hannah."
"So let him be Jessica and you be Hannah," Connor sighs. "You had fun as her."
Now it's your turn to smirk. "I guess you really don't want to fuck Kelsey, do you?"
She scowls and puts out her hand. "Deal." You take it and shake firmly on it.
"Let's get moving. You take off that mask while I talk to Caleb. You're going to have to let him into your house—your and Justin's house—to get the car buffer—"
"Isn't it over at the school?"
"Is it? We'll check. But I'll talk to him, make sure he's on board with this. Come on, move." You push Kelsey back to the bed. "We don't have a lot of time."
With a slow and reluctant groan Connor puts his hands to his brow. You help him get the mask off, and quickly avert your eyes from the naked Connor Hutchison who has reappeared there. You're going to be getting an eyeful of that pale, skinny form soon enough.
You get Caleb on the phone for a short, fast conversation. Yes, he'd rather have lots of other aliases than Hannah for a weekend of fun. Yes, he'd be willing to put in a few hours work to get a new mask made. Yes, he could get you a list of acceptable faces within the next few hours. Yes, Cindy Vredenburg would rank high on the list, but he'd have to think some more before committing. He'll drive over to Will Prescott's house now to collect the key to the school basement, if your doppelganger will turn them over.
So you make a quick call to your old number. The Will Prescott that answers is a little surly, but promises to cooperate with Caleb when he shows up.
By now Connor has begun to stir. "I can't believe no one's interrupted us," you marvel after he's sat up with a groggy look. You start peeling off your clothes. "But get dressed. I'll change in the bathroom. As soon as I get Jessica's mask off, put Kelsey's on me." Then you slap him, to his surprise and your own. "And then you go outside the bedroom and wait for me. No sneak previews." He grouses but agrees.
There's a lovely, thick bath rug on the bathroom floor, and you nestle down onto it. "Ready, set," you murmur as you grip the sides of your face. But instead of "Go," you utter a set of magical syllables, and pull at your face.
* * * * *
You're cold when you wake up, which is only one reason you feel grumpy. You've got other reasons for feeling grumpy, you're sure, but you don't remember what they are. You also have the conviction that you need to remember where you are and who you are.
What a fucked up feeling to wake up to. Of course you know who you are. You're—
You're halfway to sitting up when the head rush knocks you down again. Hair falls in your face, and you instinctively brush it back. You brush back Kelsey Blankenship's hair with Kelsey Blankenship's hands. Because you're Kelsey Blankenship. Your arms tremble as you support yourself in this awkward position: splayed halfway up and halfway on your side on the bath rug in your bathroom.
In Kelsey Blankenship's bathroom. What the fuck is wrong with Connor and everyone else that they have this bullshit line about not getting into character until a day later? You want to kick his fucking ass all the way back to the god damned city for fucking up your plans to see Karl. But everything's been getting in your way, from Jessica Garner showing up to Cindy Vredenburg texting you with some bullshit—
Never mind. The thing to do is to get dressed and call Karl and tell him you got delayed. He's used to waiting on you.
You peek out into the bedroom, but unless Connor is hiding under the bed he's as good as his word and is waiting in the hallway. It'll be okay. Your dad is at the dealership and your mom is at the university, and Jimena and Damaris don't come into this side of the house unless summoned.
Should you change clothes? You're tempted to use that as the excuse for Karl, but it would waste time.
With brusque dispatch you get into fresh panties and bra—that much of a concession to changing clothes is a necessity—before picking up the phone. To Cindy you text: busy now, talk later? rly want to see you. Insincere as hell, but it'll hold the cunt. To Karl you text: dad called, running late, forgive me? xxxxx You scoop up the discarded jeans skirt—
No. You take it to the hamper and daintily drop it in with the discarded underthings. Karl likes the skirt with the tear down near the hem. You rummage for it in the shelf, pull it out. You also pull out the black woolen turtleneck. That'll look good with it. Oh, and that purple blouse you got last weekend at Nirdlinger's, you haven't shown that to anyone yet. You can make it a nice, long session with lots of things to peel off. In that case maybe you should wear jeans instead—
The sweater and blouse will be fine, you tell yourself firmly. You're on a bit of a schedule. It's already four-thirty, and you'll need to be back by six at the latest.
Karl's reply says he's okay, and you reply with another string of kisses and the lie that you're walking out the door now.
On goes the blouse: crisp and with the store smell laundered out. The skirt around it and zipped up smartly. The sweater. You sit at the vanity afterward and carefully brush out your hair. You sigh as you do so. It's so boring, being just a mousy brown and very straight. But it suits your face and form, and you're loathe to try out any radical new looks for fear of doing damage to it. When you've got it free of all those tangles you put in it when you ambushed Kelsey, you pick up the jewelry. Four bracelets over a wrist. The two toe rings—how Karl loves those. A change of earrings: emeralds, you decide. You wish you had time to do nails and makeup better, but Karl thinks you're halfway back to town by this point. So you buckle on sandals, stroke your legs to reassure yourself that there's no stubble, and pick up your purse and sunglasses.
Connor is just outside the door, and he jumps a little as you yank it open. "Have some trouble figuring things out?"
"Do I look like I had any trouble? Come on, I have to drop you off at the school with Caleb, and he'll have to drive you out to the Donna. Karl and I'll be in Room 17, so you'll have to try to get a room right across from us." You leave him scrambling to keep up as you stride down the hall to the stairs.
"Do they take credit cards?"
"I don't know." You dig inside Kelsey's purse and pull out a huge billfold. From it you extract a couple of twenties. "This should cover it for you."
Connor chokes. "Does she just carry around that kind of—" You give him a look. "How are the memories coming?" he asks faintly.
"Perfectly clear. Garage is this way. Oh, and last year, when you changed out Michael Trujillo's trunks at that swim party for a pair four size smaller? I'm the one who told him it was you. I mean, Kelsey's the one who told him. To get back at you for making a scene at her Christmas party."
Connor stops at the entrance to the garage. "You remember all that?"
"I told you, perfectly." You put your hand on your hip and turn a freezing glance at him. "Don't just stand there, Connor. If you can't keep up what use are you?"
He's a little pale as he jerks back to life.
Kelsey's car is a forest-green BMW coupe, only a few years old, since she was given it new near the start of her high school career. You love its close, low-to-ground cabin and the creamy interior, but sniff as though unimpressed with it all while Connor gets in gingerly. You slip on sunglasses, press the remote to open the garage door, buckle yourself in, and turn the motor over to a gentle purr. You back out, turn around, and drive out slowly onto the street. The coupe can make the trip back to town in minutes, but Kelsey drives for comfort and show, not speed.
Connor is silent, so you hand him Kelsey's phone. "Text Caleb, tell him we're coming, so he'll have this number."
"Are you in charge now?" Connor asks peevishly.
"It feels natural this way, doesn't it?"  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
| Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author