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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Something Like a Boss"  "—two more. So half of them are going to be your choice." You give Michelle a smug smile. She stares at you, her jaw hanging slightly open, and still looking ill from the experience of turning one of her classmates into a doppelganger. She glances uneasily at the A-Two, then hobbles over to a nearby bleacher to drop onto it. She puts her face between her knees, but raises up at the sound of the squeak of your sneakers on the polished hardwood floor. "I can't believe it," she mutters. "Is that really—?" She waves a distracted finger in the rough direction of the smiling doppelganger. "A doppelganger. Yes. Just like Number Three over there." "And you've got how many more?" "At least three. Steve and Kim you already know. He's Number Three and she's Number Two. I'm Number One. You don't need to know who the others are. If there are any others." "What are they doing for you?" She sounds querulous. "What's the point of this?" "I told you the point of it. To fix the school by fixing the assholes. As for what they're doing, they're doing jobs. Number Two is helping spread stories, the kind of stories I want repeated around school. Number Three is muscle. Mostly now he's not doing things. As in, he's not doing the kind of shit that Steve Patterson liked to do. But if I think of a job that he can do, I'll get him to do it." She continues to gaze past you. Distractedly, as though to herself, she says, "What kind of a job could ... Christine do?" "A-Two," you gently correct her, and she starts. "It's easier if you think of her as A-Two." "So who's A-One?" "There isn't one, yet. You don't have to name them in the order you make them. And if you want to impersonate someone, you can call yourself A-One. That's what I did, I named myself Number One when I turned myself into a Chelsea doppelganger." "But if I"—she swallows—"impersonate someone, I'll disappear, right? I mean, who will be ... me?" "You'll make a doppelganger of yourself. But don't worry about it for right now," you continue as she pales. "Why'd you pick Christine? To be replaced?" "Because I didn't think it would work," she mutters. "I was sure you were bullshitting me." "Well, it turns out I wasn't. But who is Christine? How do you know her?" Michelle bites her lip, and when she answers she is very halting. Gradually, under a lot of gentle, probing questioning, you get to know Michelle: something that the real Chelsea Cooper never bothered with. * * * * * She is, as you knew from Chelsea's memories, new to Saratoga Falls, having moved to town with her family at the end of summer. She somehow got off on the wrong foot with everyone by making it onto the cheerleading squad over a lot of fierce competition. She never connected with Chelsea or Cindy or anyone else on the squad, though, and everyone else (in the senior class, at least) seemed to hold her success against her: the outsider who came in and beat all the local talent. It didn't help—she confessed with a beady-eyed stare—that everyone seemed to think that she didn't get onto the squad because of her talent, but because Chelsea Cooper (who picked her for the squad) used her vote to become squad captain. (And you have no problem confirming to her that that was the case.) But that doesn't mean she's actually friendless. It just means that all her friends are in the junior (and some in the sophomore) class. Alexis Lachance, Sabrina Rutledge, Erin Hale. You shake your head over these, not knowing them or their names. Rebecca Leary, Tanya Firth. Those names you do know: a couple of girls on the track team. Roman Robey, Scott McInerney, Justin Lovejoy. Those names you do know, and congratulate her on being friends with some of the star players on the JV basketball squad. And where does Christine fit in? you ask. She's not one of your friends, is she? That would make the whole doppelganger thing awkward. No, Christine isn't one of her friends. Far from it. Christine is a bitch. You find yourself nodding as Michelle describes her, for you know the type. You have one of the type on your team already, in the form of Number Four. Like Kelsey Blankenship, Christine Miles is (according to Michelle) smug, arrogant, and judgmental. She plays on the school tennis team (again, like Kelsey) and is dating Zion Barber, the junior class president. She's a gossip and a bully, and has spread nasty stories about Michelle's friends online. And she seems to have it in personally for Michelle, repeating all the senior-class snidery about how Michelle doesn't deserve to be on the cheerleading squad, and that she only got it because she was too stupid to understand how Chelsea was playing her for a stooge. She loves gossiping about the senior class, Michelle darkly says by way of wrap-up, because she can't wait to be a senior herself. "Well, no wonder you picked Christine when I asked you for a name," you say at the conclusion of her explanations. "She's perfect. Exactly the kind of person we want to get rid of. At least, until high school is over for us." "But if she keeps acting like—" Michelle gulps. "I told her to act like the real girl. You told me to tell her to—" "That's just for in general. You can tell her to do lots of specific things. Or some general things. Like, you can tell her to lay off you and your friends, to stop gossiping about them. Or you can order her to, you know, break up with her boyfriend. Or to send you news that she's heard, or to plant some gossip about some people that you want to hurt but you don't want it traced back to you." You hold Michelle's eye. "Your imagination is your only limit here." Michelle's eyes fall. "It still seems wrong." "It's to help your friends, Michelle. And it's only for a little while." "I'll have to think about this." "Well, while you're thinking about it, think about how it can help you and your friends. And how I can help you and your friends. Because we're partners, Michelle." Her expression, which she looks up at you, is a little fearful, but you think you see determination behind her eyes as well. She looks over at A-Two. "Is ... it ... just gonna stand there all night?" "No, you can tell her to go home and pick up where Christine left off. Tell her to turn on Christine's personality. And maybe you should go with her, to talk. To find out all the stuff that Christine has been up to behind your back." She gets gingerly to her feet and wobbles her way over to where the doppelgangers are speculatively watching her. There's a glint in A-Two's eyes. "You should go home now," Michelle tells the doppelganger. "Okay," it replies. "Is that an order, boss?" "Uh ... Yes. Um—" She glances back at you. "Pick up Christine's life. Be her." Her voice falls to a mumble. "Act like her." The gleam in A-Two's eye deepens. "Does that include acting like her around you?" Michelle starts, then says, "Yes. For now. Just ... act like Christine until I talk to you again." A-Two doesn't bother to hide her cheeky grin. "You got it, boss." She starts to go. "Tell her not to mention coming up here tonight, to anyone," you mutter at Michelle, and she shouts the order to the retreating back of the doppelganger. It clucks its tongue, and puts away the phone it had dug out of a pocket. "I'm starting to see why you did this," Michelle says in a low growl. "Exactly." You tuck your arm into hers. "Just think about what you could do with her, now that she's on your side. Secretly." Michelle says nothing, but her breathing becomes more labored. You don't want to push her, but you do add, "There's one more thing you can do for me." "Uh huh?" Michelle seems to jerk herself out of a reverie. "You said that Christine had friends in the senior class? Tell me who. Those are people who you might want to switch out too. That way you could pass messages to Christine without it seeming weird, by going through them." She thinks a moment, then says, "She talks to Kim Walsh, I know that—" "Okay, that's perfect. She's Number Two, you know." "But there's some others. You said I could pick ... two?" "Uh huh." "Are you going to pick the other ... three? Who are you going to pick?" "I haven't decided yet. I think I'll let you pick yours first." "Do I get a say, in who you pick?" You turn the question over in your head. "I might need a say in who you pick, so— Okay. You get a say in mine." "Can I veto who you pick?" "Sure. That's fair, if I can veto anyone you pick." Michelle nods, looking relieved. "Alright. Um. Is there anything else you need to ... tell me? Show me?" "No, this has been enough. Just think about who else you want to add to your team." You squeeze her arm. "And if you want to change places like I did!" * * * * * "Do you know a Christine Miles?" you ask Kendra the next morning in the changing room. "She's a junior, I think?" "Yeah, we sometimes talk," Kendra says dismissively. "She hears things, so I listen." You nod at her confirmation. For Kendra's name was one of five that Michelle texted you late last night. They were the names of seniors who Christine often talked to, and could be used as other ways of passing messages and orders along. But you suspect that she's got ulterior ideas. Like, maybe she wants control of Kendra as a spy she can put onto you? So even though you do want Kendra under your control, you are more interested in the other names she sent: Catherine Muskov. Anthony Kirk. Olivia Byrne. Ian Patton. Next: "Masks Amid Masks" |
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