This choice: Do unto Chelsea before ... • Go Back... Do you trust Chelsea or not? It's a question you keep asking yourself all day Monday until some time after lunch when you feel a large and meaty hand grab the back of your neck. You feel yourself being marched into the nearest bathroom and then into a stall. There's a large presence behind you and you feel it get closer and closer. "Got some sandbags that need moving," Gordon says right into your ear.
"R-right now!?" you squeak. "You weren't supposed to get them n--"
You squeak again as the grip around your neck tightens. "Well I did," comes the direct reply. "You gotta a problem with that?"
You feel a sudden force push you forward, inching your face just a bit closer to the piss-soaked toilet. "N-no! It's just--" But again, your face is forced even closer, your eyes watering both from the tight grip and the smell. "Alright! I'll move them!" you cry out. You feel the grip loosen, allowing you to stand up straight.
"Good, then let's go."
"What, now!?" you ask as you turn around... only for Gordon to yank you towards him by your collar.
"No, a week from now. Of course right fuckin' now," he growls as he leans forward, inches from your face. "You got a problem with that? That why you're gettin' in my face like this?"
Holy shit, he's going to kill you if you keep trying to say anything! So you have no choice but to acquiesce and tell him that you'll move the stuff. Again his grip loosens and though he's not holding onto you, he's practically glued to you as you make your way out into the parking lot and his VW Bug. "Okay, I'll just get my truck and--"
You're stopped by one of those gorilla hands grabbing and squeezing your wrist.
"You not going anywhere, Prescott," Gordon says, "except to my car to get those bags."
"Huh? But wouldn't it be easier if I just brought--YEOW!" The grip on your wrist tightens causing you to yelp in pain. "Okay okay! God! But can you help me bring them over?"
Gordon simply pushes you towards his car while laughing. "Chelsea only said I had to bring the shit here," he states. "She didn't say nothin' about me having to move it." He laughs again as he watches you struggle to remove one of the large and heavy bags of dirt from his car. "You should be thankin' me, Prescott! This'll help you bulk up! Girls like a bit of muscle!"
You want to flip him off but you're too busy having to lug these stupid bags, plus you know that if you did then he'd just punch your skull out of your head. Chelsea seriously couldn't have told him to help you move these or better yet, told him to do it himself? To make matters worse, you figure that she'd want to talk but instead her response is total silence until after eighth when she tells you that she'll get back to you when she's ready.
You give a curt but accepting response and head home to wait for her message.
* * * * *
You'd spent some time after getting home creating a mask and, having yet to hear back from Chelsea, you're now busy polishing it in your room. There's a sudden knock on the door that jolts you and a second later, it pushes open to reveal your dad.
"Dinner will be ready in the hour so wash up," he tells you. However he seems to spot the mask you're working on and so doesn't immediately leave. "What's that you got there?" he asks.
"Oh, uh, it's just an art thing. I'm helping out a friend from school," you say.
"And you have to polish it? What's it supposed to look like?"
"Uh, blue, I think," you respond. "I've been at it for most of the afternoon."
"Most of--" your dad appears shocked but regains his composure. "When is this supposed to be done?"
You shrug. "I don't know, maybe in the next day or two? They just said they wanted it done soon."
Your father grunts with annoyance. "Will," he sighs, "come with me for a minute. Bring that with you."
You're really not one to defy your father so, still holding onto the mask, you push yourself off of the bed and follow him through the house and into the garage. He digs around for a bit before finding and pulling down a box. Reaching inside, he removes a car buffer and hands it to you. "Try it, you'll never finish it at the rate you're going," he says.
"Uh, thanks? But why are you helping me with this?" you ask.
He simply shakes his head. "It'd be unfair to your friend to suffer for your goofing around," he states. "Seriously, Will, if you're going to agree to help people then you need to put in real effort."
You grumble but don't argue and at his insistence, you head back into the house and wash up. Though you quickly head back into the garage to try the buffer out. To your amazement, it's maybe a little over half an hour before the mask is now shining a brilliant blue. At dinner you thank your dad for the help. It's as you're working on one of those bands that a message finally comes from Chelsea telling you to meet her at her house.
She has to give you directions on where it is but you agree. You finish up the band, attach it to the mask, and then stuff it and all of your other supplies into your backpack. You tell your parents you're heading out to give drop the project off. Your dad asks you if this "friend" is Caleb and you can only shake your head. But then you get it into your head that maybe you can impress him.
"Actually, it's Chelsea Cooper. The head cheerleader," you add when the name gets no response. "She's only one of the most popular girls in school!"
Your dad seems to be unbelieving but he doesn't protest you going out either. Merely tells you to be back by curfew. You excitedly head out to the truck. You told Chelsea you'd be showing her this new mask and boy oh boy will you. Because that stunt with Gordon this afternoon, and her blowing you off the rest of the day has just about sealed it for you.
You need to try out this new spell and Chelsea has just about made herself the perfect test subject.
* * * * *
You're greeted of Chelsea's home by Mrs. Cooper. She's an older though still attractive woman who makes you think you're getting a look at Chelsea in twenty-five years. She's also, much to your surprise, very pleasant; quick with the compliments both to you and to Chelsea when she calls her down. Chelsea, though, grumbles and grouses and is quick to take you onto her back patio as she tells her mother not to bother her for you've important things to discuss.
And discuss you do... well, more like explain. Chelsea listens quietly but attentively as you explain the new spell to her and what it does. Though you hold back the paste, you hand her the mask you've prepared. It's a complete item: a mask to copy the face and body, and an attached metal band to copy the brain.
"Okay, so if you made a mask of, yourself and then put that paste in it, whoever you put it on would have to obey you?" she asks.
"I think that's how it works. That's what I got from the book, at least," you tell her. "And if I, say, got a mask of... I don't know, Marc Garner and then put that special mask of myself on him, I could replace him and nobody would be the wiser."
Chelsea looks at the blank mask for a minute and then her eyes gleam. "So why don't you?" she asks. "If you switch places with someone then couldn't you be more popular? Couldn't you help me?"
Yes, you're not an idiot. You knew where her mind would go once you'd told her about the past and special masks. Now it's time to dangle some more bait. "I'd like to help you, Chelsea, really. But I don't know if I'm necessarily the person who should be getting more involved than I am," you state.
"What's that mean?"
"Well, I was actually thinking of letting you try it," you explain. "Because if you made one of those special masks of yourself then you could swap with, I don't know, Cindy or Jessica or... or someone in that group. You know, undermine them from the inside?" You stop to draw a breath. "I mean, that is what you'd want to do with these masks, right? Shore up your position on the squad? Honestly, you've already done a lot for me so I'd like to return the favor."
Chelsea continues to look at the mask. "Okay, fine, I'll do it but we meet up at the gym before school. You need my hair right?" She yanks out a small bit and hands it to you. "Do that at home, and make another mask tonight. I'll switch with someone in the morning."
To your joy, you watch as she places the mask to her face and goes stiff as it disappears into her. Quickly, you pull the past you'd made with your hair out of your backpack as well as the brush. When that mask comes out, all you need to do is treat it and shove it back on her and in a flash, the queen bee of Westside will be answering to you. What could you do from there, though?
Well, use her to help make you popular or get a girlfriend for a start. But you could also make a mask of yourself and be Chelsea, running the squad and school as her. Or hell, become another cheerleader and run things from the shadows using Chelsea as a proxy... or not even another cheerleader, you could run the school as anyone. You can't help but find amusement at the thought of someone like Cassie Harper or an underclassmen being the shadow ruler of the schooler.
But you start wondering if that's the right thing to do. Chelsea hasn't done wrong by you yet and hell, she seems to have enough trust in you to have believed you're helping her. Maybe you should just let everything pass and continue being partners with her.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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