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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "The Last Space in the Trophy Case"  You need someone on the squad, and this Stacey Stahl girl is probably as good as anyone else. But something about the choice feels suboptimal. After turning it over in your head a couple of times, you decide the problem is that Stacey will be of only limited utility to you if it's Michelle driving her around. Clearly, Michelle is interested in Stacey only because it will give her a more direct grip on the social clique that's been poking back at her girlfriends in the junior class, and that's not something that will benefit you. But a Stacey Stahl who is a minion and who can be ordered around (through Michelle), can also be ordered to work for you on the cheerleader squad and in the senior class. But this isn't what you say when you call up Michelle. "I really like this Stacey girl for the squad," you tell her. "She's an awesome pick, and I see why you want to add her to your string. But—" "But?" Michelle politely inquires after you've lapsed into an awkward pause. "But is she really someone you want to be, Michelle? Isn't this just ... spite talking?" There's a long silence, and you hold your breath. "It's not spite, Chelsea—" "Of course not! But I do know something about spite, Michelle, and how ... easy it is to be spiteful. I'll confess, there was just the teensiest, weensiest bit of spite when I turned myself into Chelsea." And who were you before? you can almost hear Michelle wondering to herself. "But I made sure that wasn't the reason I did it. I turned myself into Chelsea Cooper because of the advantages she brought me. Are there any ... advantages ... you'd get by turning yourself into Stacey? Instead of just, you know, making a doppelganger?" Michelle sighs. "I don't see any advantages," she says, "in turning myself into someone else." "There's always someone with more advantages than us, Michelle. Or even, if you don't see any advantages, how about turning yourself into someone you can have fun as?" "That sounds kind of mean," she says. "Oh I don't mean it like that. You want to be someone like Stacey who can help out your friends. But would you have fun being Stacey, Michelle? Or would it be work?" There's another long pause before Michelle says, "I think I see what you mean." "Okay! So I'm not saying 'no' to Stacey. But how about you let it cook a little more? Come up with some other ideas. Someone fun! But with advantages! In the meantime, do you think we should still swap Stacey for a doppelganger?" "Yeah, I guess. That's why I, uh, picked her out." "Great! Tell you what, I'll make all the arrangements on my end. You just be available to show up for when we do it. Oh, gosh, Michelle! Isn't this exciting?" You gurgle with enough enthusiasm to make up for the sound of death coming through the phone. * * * * * Your prediction that the Kelsey-Karl-Justin scandal would break on Tuesday proves right on the dot. You come out of the shower to find your phone insistently buzzing. It's Kendra. "Check your DMs!" she breathlessly begs you. "What's up?" "The video that Number Three and I took is going viral!" Viral? you wonder with a sudden dread. As in ... all over the internet? "We'll talk about it at school," you tell her, and hang up so you can go online. To your relief, "viral" would be a exaggeration, but it has exploded all over x2z, and it's even drawing a lot of traffic from Eastman. The video is ricocheting around, popping up in multiple streams and being used to hijack others. There's a cataract of commentary, almost all of it gleefully trashing Kelsey with a lot of nasty names. No one is defending her, exactly, but a few very lone voices (anonymously, of course!) do try insisting that Kelsey's sex life is her own business; a few more (also anonymous) wonder who took the video and why, and condemn it for being posted. But most of the pushback (if you can even call it that) comes from a tiny handful asking how come Kelsey is the one being called names, instead of Justin and Karl. Of these, only Janelle Pelletier, Lily Hallet, and Emily Sparks are brave enough to put their names out in public. You nod to yourself in satisfaction. Well, this will stir things up, you tell yourself. Now let's see what I can do with it. * * * * * For the truth is that you had no real plan in mind when you ordered Number Four into a three-way, or when you ordered Number Three to record the meet-up and Number Five to circulate it. As when you blew up the cheerleading squad, you only had the sense that an explosion would destroy something that you could then rebuild into something better for you. And though there's only a small minority fighting the lynch mob that is moving in on Number Four, it's with them and in their feeble protests that you glimpse something new and exciting. You start by texting Number Four, telling her to act and react simply as Number Four would to anything and everything that happens or gets said. After that, you dress. But you're hardly paying attention to the outfit you don, for your mind's eye is darting forward, feeling out and assessing possibilities. You are still so preoccupied during your first-period workout that you ignore the querying looks from Gloria and Kendra, and there is no drama during class. But during second period ... Christian Padilla does a double-take and grins as you and Kendra come into the classroom, and he oozes from his seat to come talk to you. He's already got his cell phone out. "Hey, Chelsea," he simpers. There's an oily glee in his eyes, to match the oily sheen of his dark, curly hair. "Got a video I think you'll like to see." "I bet," you sniff, but take his phone anyway. You touch the screen to play, and frown stonily down at it for a few seconds before thrusting it back at Christian. "Yeah, I've seen it." He grins and leans forward across the top of your desk. "So," he whispers. "What do we think?" "What do you think?" you retort. "Are you pissed that it was Kelsey catching it from Justin and Karl, and not you?" His eyes pop. "What?" he stammers. "What's so special about it?" you demand. "Why are you interested? Why do you think I'm interested?" "Well, Kelsey—" "Are you interested in Kelsey? I thought you'd be interested in Justin or Karl. Because I'm not. I'm not interested in any of them!" Christian turns a purple shade beneath his well-tanned face. "Well, excuse me," he says as he starts to rise. "Christian, you can answer me one question," you tell him. "What do you think of what Kelsey was doing?" "I don't know," he snaps back after a moment's hesitation. "What do you think of what Karl was doing?" He says nothing. "Or Justin?" His lips curls, but still he says nothing. "You were acting like it was a big thing. 'Oo'!" you exclaim, mocking his mannerisms with some even less feminine ones of your own. "'Look at this! Isn't this a thing?' Well, what makes it a thing? That it was Kelsey? Or that it was Karl, or Justin?" "I guess I actually don't care either," he retorts, and swishes back across the room to throw himself, exhausted, into his desk, where he buries himself anew in his phone. Kendra has been watching all this intently but silently. Now she leans over to ask in a very low voice, "What's going on?" "Orders from the boss," you reply in a barely audible voice. "Make it a problem for Justin and Karl, not Kelsey." "Interesting," she says as her face briefly goes mask-like. Then she sits back in her chair and cocks her head to give you a coy look. "Am I supposed to follow your lead?" "Yes." You take out your phone to DM Michelle. "We'll talk about it last period." After filling Michelle in briefly on what you are doing—so as not to cause confusion if and when A-Three reports to her—you look up to study Christian from under your brows. Stacey Stahl will be a fourth mask, and Michelle is supposed to bring you a fifth. For the last mask ... Well, a catty little queen like Christian Padilla—who is also tight with Charles Hartlein and the rest of the gang of gays at Westside—would be a useful acquisition, and you doubt Michelle would have any objections, as she might to Sydney McGlynn or Catherine Muskov or some of others you've been noodling over. And, if you're honest with yourself, you are dying to know what Christian is tapping into his phone right now. It's probably about you. * * * * * From Number Two you are able to get a copy of Stacey Stahl's schedule, and at the start of eighth period you detour past her math class and with a crook of the finger gesture her out in the hall. She looks starstruck, and her astonishment at talking to you only deepens when you ask her to stay after school for a "private tryout" for the cheerleading squad. Only she can't. "I have to take the bus home," she moans. You smile. "Don't worry, I'll take you home myself," you assure her, and for a moment you worry she's going to faint right in front of you. Good pick, Michelle, you think to yourself as you make the quick hike to the library to join Kendra and Gloria. Stacey is a short, bouncy girl with the same body type as Chelsea: big boobs, strong thighs, and bowl-like hips. Her hair maybe be brown and straight and fall in flat curtains down her back and over her breasts, but she's got the same glint of manic ambition in her eyes that Chelsea does. Her duplicate will fit right in on the squad. Next: "Comes the Revolution" |
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