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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "A Coup Quashed"  Kim Walsh is on her knees, her face pressed into the folds of Steve Patterson's boxer shorts. In the silence of the darkened school gym, the slurp and gurgle of her mouth and tongue as she pleasures his cock sound more loudly than one would think. But you're concentrating on Michelle Estrich, holding her by the elbow and wrist to stop her from fleeing. "Here, let's leave them to it," you tell her, and tug her from her rooted position, leading her over to the bleachers. "You don't need to watch that. Not if you don't want to," you can't help adding. "But the only reason I—" "What's going on?" she shrilly demands. "What are you—?" "That's what I'm explaining to you, Michelle," you assure her. "If you just keep very still and listen very quietly, I'll explain!" You sit on the lowest bleacher, and pull her down beside you. She sits very stiffly. "To start with," you say, "I suppose you've noticed what a shithole this school is. It's like cats in a sack. I know that you've gotten clawed a couple of times." If she recognizes this allusion to the way you chased her off the squad, she doesn't show it. "And it's because of the people in it. Well, not all the people, not even most of them. Most of us, you know, are just trying to get through it, have some fun, the usual. But there's some people, like Steve over there—well, not him over there, that's not Steve, I told you—but people like Steve who are real shits and who make the whole school a shithole all by themselves." You pause to let this sink in. Michelle is listening with an expression that is hard to read in the dark of the gym, and she says nothing. "Well, that's where the doppelgangers come in. See—" You lean in close, conspiratorially. "I've been getting rid of some of the assholes— Well, not 'getting rid of', I don't want you think I'm, you know— But I've been getting them out of the way, and putting doppelgangers like Number Three over there in their place. I told you, they're like magic robots, and they have to do what I say. So Number Three over there has to do what I tell him, and that means that 'Steve Patterson'"—you hook some air quotes around the name—"is doing what I tell him. I've just got started"—you giggle—"but I've already got plans." There's now no mistaking how ill Michelle looks. But still she says nothing. "Now, here's the thing." You grasp Michelle's hand, and ignore the way she flinches. "I can't possibly run everything that needs running. That's why I need partners. Well, a partner," you quickly correct yourself. "A helper. Someone who can manage the doppelgangers with me, and help me out in other ways. The reason I chased you off the squad, Michelle," you confide, "is so that you could help me." Michelle blinks at this admission, then jerks back in surprise. "What?" "Sure! I know you were miserable on the squad, and the best thing for you would have been for you to quit. But you're no quitter, I figured that out a long time ago. I've wanted to help you out by helping you off the squad for a very long time, but it wasn't until just recently, practically last week, that I knew I had to do it. It's part of making things better around here. I had to get Jack Li onto the squad—we need the diversity—and you were the natural one to, you know, go. I've been telling everyone how it was your idea, how you volunteered to step aside—" "Yeah, I don't want that," she blurts out. "You don't want people thinking good of you? Sorry, Michelle." You smirk "But I want people thinking good of you. But that's only one reason I took you off the squad. The main reason was so you could help me with this!" You point over to Numbers Two and Three. They have apparently finished, and are standing quietly side by side, watching you and Michelle. Number Three has at least shown enough initiative top pull his pants up again. "We couldn't partner while you were on the squad," you explain. "Everyone knows we don't get along, and we don't want people wondering how come we started. But with you off the squad, because you were helping out—" You beam. "Then it makes sense that we'd become friends! And with your help, making more doppelgangers, replacing people—" "This is a sick joke," she says, and stands. "It's not a joke, Michelle!" You catch her. "Didn't you see me order them to—? And they did?" "They're in on it," she sneers. You snort. "Steve, maybe. Except no, he wouldn't, because me and the real Steve hated each other's guts. But Kim? Do you think Kim would be in on a joke? You think she'd suck off Steve in order to prank you?" Michelle wavers, and squints over at the doppelgangers. "I don't know Kim." "Well, she wouldn't. And I think you do know Kim enough to know she wouldn't. No, that's not Kim. It's a double of her. A replacement." Michelle half turns toward you. "You're saying you replaced Kim with a doppelganger?" "Exactly, that's what I've been—!. Oh!" A penny drops. "You're wondering how come Kim got replaced. Because she's not a bitch and an asshole, like Steve? Is that what you're wondering, Michelle?" She says nothing. "Well, it's because she's student council president, but not a very good one. She's too nice, too soft. There's too many problems the real Kim could have handled, but didn't. The new one can. I didn't want to do it, but it had to be done." "Had to?" "If we want to fix the school." You've had to improvise this bit about Kim, and are silently kicking yourself for using Number Two instead of Number Four tonight, for Kelsey would be far more believable as the kind of bitch who needed to be replaced. But you needed Number Two to make the approach to Michelle. But, in a sense, what you've told her is true. The old Kim flinched from using her student council president powers. Number Two, you will make sure, won't. Michelle studies you, then snorts. "Unbelievable," she says. "I know it's hard to believe—" "No, it's that you—" She shakes her head. "You think I'd go for a freaking fairy tale like this. Or, even if I did believe you, that I'd want to—" She shudders all over. You hop to your feet. "You don't want to help?" "No! This is—! The whole idea—!" "Aren't there people you'd like to 'fix', Michelle?" you ask her softly. "People who've done you wrong? Besides me?" She glares at you. "People you'd like to get out of the way, replace with doubles who will do what you tell them, who'll help you to—" "How do you 'get people out of the way', Chelsea? I can't believe that even you would—" You gasp. "You think I'm killing them? Oh God, no, Michelle! If that's what's bothering you—! Listen, it's magic. And it isn't even permanent. You think I want or need a doppelganger of Steve Patterson running around after we all graduate? Or of Kim? No! This is just until the end of school. After that, we get rid of the doppelgangers and the real people come back, and everything goes back to normal!" She shakes her head. "Chelsea, I don't have time for—" You grab her before she can start to leave. "Hey, I know it's hard to believe. But what would convince you? I know!" You lay a sly finger alongside your nose. "You name someone you would replace with a doppelganger. Just pretend, pretend we're playing Truth or Dare and you just picked 'Truth' and this is my question to you. Who would you replace with a doppelganger, to make your life better? To make someone else's life better. Because this isn't about fixing our own lives. It's about helping people who need help. Protection from the horrible people." You grin at her. "Go on. Truth. Who deserves to be replaced, just for a few months, until school is over?" She wavers on her feet, and glances past you at the doppelgangers behind you. She sighs and mutters to herself. Then, when she says, "Why?" you know the battle is ninety percent won. "So I can show you I'm telling the truth. By making a doppelganger of them!" She wavers some more, then hardens. "Okay," she says, and there's a hard, skeptical challenge in her voice. "Christina Miles." You feel your face fall. "Who's she?" "She's in the junior class. She plays tennis, and she's going out with the junior class president." "Hmm. That isn't exactly what I had in mind, but— Okay!" "Okay what?" "I'll do it. Come out here tomorrow night, same time as tonight, and I'll have Christine and I'll replace her with a doppelganger. Right in front of you!" Michelle stares. Then she says, "Okay. Do it." "I will." "I want to record it on my phone, if you do." You catch your breath. Photographic evidence? That's a bad idea. Then you relax and grin. "Sure thing." After all, you reflect, if you get Michelle on your side, she'll understand that she'll have to get rid of the evidence. And if you don't get her on your side ... Well, you'll just have to make another doppelganger. "Christine Miles," you murmur to yourself as you enter a note into your phone. "Tennis, dating junior class prez. Interesting. You care about the junior class?" "That's where my friends are." "Really! Well, you're going to have more, up in the senior class. But we'll talk about this tomorrow. What?" you add, for Michelle is looking at you with a derisive expression. "I just can't believe you, Chelsea," she says. "Any of it." You dimple at her. "That's because you think you're talking to Chelsea Cooper. But you're not. I'm another doppelganger!" Next: "Some Slick Dance Moves" |
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