You're name is Tim, and you are a senior in high school having a rough, time, but none of that matters right now because it's Friday, and you'll be home soon! You were sitting in class and lamenting the fact that your math teacher, Mr. Edmund, seemed to drone on and on about these things called imagineary numbers, the utility of which baffeled you a bit anyway, but apparently the state school board had decided they were important. You watch the hands of the clock turn all-too-slowly toward your freedom...fifteen minutes, then ten...then five...DAMMIT! At about the five-minute mark, you hear the PA come on and the booming voice of the school principal fills the hall, "This is Mr. White speaking, and I need Timothy Gately to report to my office immidiately.
Dejected and figuring that this is going to both delay your leaving school and ensure that your weekend would suck, you get up from your dsk and make your way to the door and try to ignore the snickers from fellow students who take some pleasure in seeing someone else suffer. Walking down the hallway toward the principal's office, you wonder what your could possibly have done. You've been having a bit of trouble lately, but you're certainly not a trouble-maker...why would White want to see you?
You turn and go through the doorway into a sort of small complex full of offices--some for guidence councellors, one for the school nurse, and various others. Since it's the end of the day, all of them are packing up to go home, but one of the secretaries recognizes you and motions you to go ahead and go into the principal's office. You lightly knock on the door to get his attention.
Mr. White is a portly man, about 55 and balding with a few haphazzardly positioned strands of hair here and there. He is friendly with students, but of course a call to the principal's office is never really a great thing. He is wearing a white suit shirt which seems to struggle containing his potbelly, he has on dress pants and a belt that is buckled tightly around his expanded wasteline. He is probably about 5"8,' and many students joke that his width is only slightly smaller, but hey he's a nice guy.
Upon hearing the knock, he startles a bit and looks up. Seeing you, he smiles and waves you in, "Ah yes, Timothy, come in, come in," motioning for you to approach by wiggling his stubbly fingers, "close the door, please," he adds. You take a seat in the chair close to his desk.
"Tim," he begins, "the reason I wanted to speak with you is that I'm told your grades have been slipping, and we want to make sure everything is al right." "Yes, Mr. White, I'm fine, but I just have a few classes this semester that aren't my thing; I never liked math, and this semester I've got a trig class," you explain.
"I see," White says, "Well, everybody has weaknesses, but this quarter seems especially tough for you, and not just in math...English too, and history. We have a way that might help you," he offers. "It would require a great committment on your part, but if you work hard, you can get into a good college, and with the economy the way it is, you'll need that education."
"Well I suppose it would be great if I could do better," you admit, hoping that you won't end up regretting it.
White lights up, "That's the spirit, my boy!" he exclaims, smiling with such vigor that all his chins jiggle at the same time. "What if I told you we could help you, but it would be an intensive program, one that we've not tried before, one that would require a lot of work at home?"
"I'll do it," you agree, not wanting to see any more sad faces from your mom when she gets grade cards.
"Wonderful!," White says, and he prys himself out of his chair pushing it back to make room for his belly so as not to knock over all the crap on the desk. A bit suprised, you stand as well, smiling back at him.
Suddenly, White stops smiling, he seems almost to be feeling light-headed and falls backward very limply onto his chair, out cold. The amazing thing, though, is that in his place is Ms. Holsten! She is 25 years old, about 5"7' with wide hips and a round ass barely encased by tight dark pants, and she has on a thin white blouse that struggles to contain her boobs. She is also one of the kindest women you know.
"Whoa...whoa, what the hell!" you say in disbelief, staggering back.
"Tim it's all right," she says, "it's just me, and I'm doing this to help you."
Amazed, you demand, "How did you do that? Were you...inside....."
Holsten finishes, "...his body. Yes, I was inside Mr. White. You don't have to understand now, but just know that I can posses people. I took over his body to make sure you were willing to put in the work I have in mind, Tim, and you and I don't get a lot of time to talk in class." She goes on, "I am doing this tohelp you raise you grades; It's very important to me that you do well, because I care about you a lot," she says, blushing a little and looking down.
"What I want to do is go home and help you," she says.
"What...what do you mean go home and help me?" you ask.
"Well, you'll need help to get your grades up, and with my power I can go home and spend time studying with you, time I could not spend with you at school. I can posses someone close to you, and I'll use that body to help you learn your stuff."
Amazed at the committment this demonstrates from Holsten herself, and happy that she cares so much for you, you smile at her and say meekly, "Ok....ok you can help me."
She smiles and looks relieved, "Oh thank you Tim, you don't know how much I want to see you succeed. Now, how do we get home, to your house I mean. I'll need to borrow someone's body while we get there, it'd be odd if a teacher traveled to your home with you in the open."
"Well," you pondered, "yeah I guess you'll have to posses someone else, but who?"
Ms. Holsten thought for a minute, and she came up with three choices:
"I could posses the Vice Principal, Mrs. Waters; I know she lives just down the street from you."
"I could jump into you're friend Jimmy's mother; she's here for a Parent-Teacher Assocition meeting; people have seen her with you lots of times, and I could drive you home."
"I could use your body, Tim, I swear I wouldn't do anything bad, and I'll let you remember the whole thing, but you have to trust me."
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