%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Totally No One's Getting Hurt, Right?"  You glance around, and spot Laurent coming out of the school. He's got his head bent over his phone and he's walking off toward the opposite corner of the parking lot. But if you yelled at him and ran, maybe you could get to him before Jessica killed you. Well, maybe not. The stream of students coming out into the lot is thickening, so you pull Jessica in between two cars so you can talk without being overheard. "Okay, let's say I do this," you tell her. "What am I supposed to do while you're at home being me?" She gives you a very cool look up and down. "Someone will have to cover for me," she says. You gape. "We'll just do a straight swap, Will," she continues. "You've already covered for me at home," she adds contemptuously. "It'll be gross, but no grosser than it's already—" "Yeeeeeeeee!" you screech, until Jessica knees you in the balls. "Keep your shit together, Will," she hisses as you hunch over. "We're doing this, and we're not going to argue!" "But Marc's got your gear! How am I supposed to—?" "Where does he have it?" "I don't know! In his room, probably—" "Gyughkh! Well, come on, then! You have to take me home anyway, we'll go to my place and get my ... gear." She shudders. "And then we'll switch." You moan as she grabs you by the shoulder and hustles you forward. * * * * * She makes a call to Eva, to keep her and Marc away from the house until you and her can get there and get away, and then you call your mom to tell her you'll be a little late because you have to give a friend a ride. She warns you that you'll probably get grounded for a few more days, but seems to relent when you tell her that's a penalty you're willing to take. "Just try to be home before your father," she says. You waggle your legs nervously the whole time Jessica is inside her house, and you're sure that she won't be able to find the gear that Marc hid, but after ten minutes she comes running back out with a plastic sack. "This is all I could find," she gasps as she hurls herself into the cab of your truck. "Is this all?" She takes out and shows you a mask and a metal strip. "Ew, why does it have my name on it?" she cries when she sees the blue letters floating above the surface of the latter. You drive out to the old school a few blocks from your house, and part to undress and change into each other's gear: she insists on taking the truck cab, while you huddle in the stairwell that leads down to a basement door. This will be the third time that you have turned yourself into Jessica Garner, but it seems worse this time, even though you are doing it with Jessica's permission—at her insistence, even. But maybe it's because you're cooperating with Jessica that this time it feels so queasy. You are very conscious that you will be wearing her body, and inhabiting her memories, and that you will be doing so in front of the girl herself. At the same time, though, there is a stronger thrill to it. The other two times you had to sneak around as her in order to do a little job. This time you will be fully inhabiting the role. For the next day, at least, you will be Jessica Garner. And as for the fact that she'll be you? That little plot twist you thrust from your mind, as you crouch in the corner of the door frame and push the little metal band onto your forehead. * * * * * You wake from the first stage of the disguise process feeling a little disoriented, but you quickly remember where you are and what you are doing, and though you are groggy you quickly add the mask. The second time you wake up ... Well, your clothes feel wrong for a start. Your cargo shorts are very tight and ill-fitting around your hips, and your feet are swimming inside your shoes. As for your tits— Oh God, I've got tits again, you moan to yourself as you adjust the free-swinging bags inside your shirt. Without the support of a bra, it feels like your chest is trying to slide off the front of your torso. Then, as you touch them, you freeze and look up at your truck from under your brows. A figure is in there, seemingly engaged in a losing fight with a shirt. It's a long moment before your brain surrenders to the inevitable, and recognizes the tousle-headed boy as Will Prescott. He's pulling off a blouse, and then he's flailing as he tries to get himself out of a bra. He is starting to squirm—probably trying to get out of Jessica's jeans—when he catches sight of you. His expression hardens into a glare, and he angrily gestures you over. "Will you get out of those fucking clothes," he hisses after you've hopped into the truck cab. "You look like you're dressed for 'Come as a Dork' Day at school!" You flush but bite your tongue, and more demurely than him start to peel off your shirt and shorts. You have to shrink up inside your side of the cabin to avoid the flailing arms and legs of your doppelganger as he twists himself out of Jessica's old clothes. "We forgot to refresh the memories in those metal bands," you tell her after you have exchanged wads of clothing. You are trying to pull on her panties without touching yourself more than you have to. "So, I don't remember what's happened to you since, um—" "So fucking what," Will snarls. Like you, he is pulling on underwear while trying to use only thumbs and pinkie fingers. "It only means you don't know how fucking pissed off I am at you!" "Listen, you're not going to try to get back at me, are you?" you ask. "Like, get me in trouble with my parents so I'm grounded until it's time to put me into a nursing home." He pauses in the act of pulling his shirt down over his face. "No," he says after pulling it all the way on. "Though I can't promise I won't get you into more trouble. You seem to have a fucking knack for it." "Well, I'll try not to get you into trouble," you promise. "I'll even try to fix things between you and Eva." He grabs for you, then yanks his hand away like he'd touched a hot stove when he realizes who exactly he tried to touch. "Look," he says in a husky voice. "Don't do me any special favors. We're not going to be doing this for long, so you just don't fuck things up for me any more than you already have. Okay?" "Okay," you reply in your smallest voice. "You wanna know what my homework is for tonight?" "Fuck you," he growls. * * * * * He drops you off at the house that is to be your home for the next ... twelve to twenty-four hours? You and he didn't specify a time for a switchback. You feel as though you are walking on broken glass as you approach the front door. The Escalade is in the driveway, which means that your ... mom ... is home. Meg Garner works in the HR department at the electric company, so it's a little odd to find her home so early. She's in the kitchen, unloading some of those ready-to-eat meal kits from Canopies (an organic/health food store) that the Garners often have for dinner. She glances up as you edge your way into see what all the noise is. "Hey, where's your brother and sister?" she asks. "G'uh ... Out running errands, I guess," you say. (That's right, you tell yourself. I'm Jessica Garner. For almost a full second and a half, you'd expected Mrs. Garner to shriek, Who are you and why are you wearing my daughter's clothes?) "Yeah," you add as relief washes over you, "I got a friend to take me home, I didn't feel like running around—" You shrug. "Well, I'm only back for a few minutes," she says. "I have a meeting from five to six-thirty." She gives you a direct look. "Can I get you to get started on supper? Your dad'll be home at the usual time." "Sure. Um." You pick up one of the boxes: Turkey meatloaf with cheesy cauliflower and Brussel sprouts. You make a face, until you "remember" that cauliflower is something you're supposed to like. "I get dibs on what I want, though." "As long as your father gets the Salisbury steak," she says as she plucks the box from you and puts it in the fridge. "Now I'm going to change clothes." You follow her upstairs, but more slowly. The house feels very strange, stranger even than the last few times you were here, even in Jessica's body. Maybe because ... This is where I live, you tell yourself as you hang back at the top of the stairs. The last few times the house was only something to rush through. Now, though, you'll be spending the night, being Jessica with her family. This is supposed to be your home. You shiver, and it's not entirely from fear. You go into the bathroom and turn on the light. You close the door, and study yourself in the mirror. You are a very cute girl, with bright, alert eyes; blonde hair bobbed short; a good, firm rack; and a trim tummy over wide (but not too wide) hips. You are dressed in a white blouse cut to hug the inward curves of your torso, and tight blue jeans. You lean forward to study your face as you touch your lips, your nose, your eyebrows, and your cheeks. Then you study your slim hand with the glossy fingernails. I'm Jessica Garner, you tell yourself with an awestruck sense of disbelief. A light comes into your eyes, and a faint smile creeps onto your lips. I'm Jessica Garner, you tell yourself, and no one is going to be able to tell that I'm not! Next: "The Briar Patch" |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
