The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)

Little Miss Magic

Previously: "Five Little Maids from School" 

"Shelly, can I get you to stay a moment?" you ask the girl after handing her that bullshit extra credit assignment. Her eyes go wide. "It's nothing bad," you assure her. "I just want to talk to you about some, um, possible extracurricular activities."

"Oh, sure!" she exclaims with visible relief. "You know, my mom is always getting on my case about how I need to be doing more activities outside of classes, but you know I have the hardest time finding anything, so if you—"

She is kind of a chatterbox, isn't she? You find yourself almost changing your mind. What would it be like to hang out with that girl constantly? Could Sydney keep her personality under control? Or would she stomp on the accelerator, and enjoy driving you bonkers with the prattle about magic?

One by one you pass out the same extra credit to the other students you interviewed—Willa; Maya; Kelly; Helen; Mee-Kyong—as they stop in to pick them up. Shelly settles into a desk to wait, but she keeps waggling her leg. "You know I have a bus to catch," she blurts out as you're taking out your phone.

"It'll be okay, you won't miss it," you assure her as you text Michael to come join you. But—

Where the hell is Addison? you wonder. It would be just perfect if she comes in late and interrupts after you've made a lunge for Shelly.

"Ms. Cho?" Shelly says. Her expression has turned pleading.

"I'm waiting for Mr. Hagerman, Shelly," you tell her. "He's the one with the idea for the, uh, activity. Just sit tight."

You should sit tight too, maybe. Instead, you haul the ready-to-go mask from your bag and lay it on the lectern. Then you stalk out into the hallway.

The crowds have started to thin, and through them you can see Michael loping your way. You meet him halfway.

"You need to go in there and take care of Shelly," you tell him. "I need—"

"Shelly? Is that the girl?"

"Yes, and it's only her in there. I'll stand guard out here. I've got another student coming."

"Are we going to two?"

"No! Just get inside and get Shelly! She has a bus to catch, or something."

"She's not going to make it."

"Just go!"

Michael grins rakishly at you. Fucker! Sydney was just winding you up.

You shut the classroom door after him and loiter outside, watching for Addison. Now you can intercept her without worrying that—

Shit! That writing assignment is still on your desk! You wheel and dash inside to get it. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Michael pulling the unconscious Shelly Nolan, desk and all, into a back corner of the room.

And when you turn around again, there is Addison in the doorway, looking inside with a puzzled expression.

Naturally!

"There you are, hon," you call out, and rush at her with the paper. "I've got the extra credit here. Now, when you work on it—" You try to push her back out of the room.

But she stares into it with a furrowed brow, at Michael and at Shelly.

"That's just Shelly," you babble at her. "She came in to get her assignment, and then she said she felt sick. Can you please—" You push Addison out into the hallway.

"Oh!" she exclaims. "The assignment?"

"It's all there in the directions," you tell her. "Due tomorrow at the start of class." You pull the door shut behind you, and thrust the paper at her. "Don't you have a bus to catch?"

"My mom's picking me up, and she's going to be late."

"Well, you should go wait for her out front or something." You can't help blushing. You are acting so guilty!

"Okay." Addison gives you a puzzled look, then shuffles on down the hallway. Halfway down, she turns to give you another look of confusion. You beam at her, and wave. Her brow darkens, but she continues on her way.

You let out a deep breath, and open the door to put your face inside the classroom. Michael has already shut off the lights and closed the blinds. "Get in here," he growls at you.

"Maybe I should stand watch out here."

He shrugs. "Fine. But it'll go faster if you move the masks around."

That's true. You step inside and lock the door.

"So who's this girl?" Michael asks.

"Shelly Nolan. Michelle Nolan," you correct yourself, for that is her full name.

"So why'd you pick her?"

"Because she's into fantasy and magic. Check out her backpack, Sydney."

Michael lugs Shelly's pack up off the floor. He lets out a low whistle at all the Harry Potter shit that covers it. "Oh. One of those."

"I figured she'd be a good fit."

"No kidding. Does she have a boyfriend?"

"I don't know. She's in the ninth grade, she probably just has a crush."

Michael puts his hands on his hips, and gazes down at Shelly. She is lying face down on the desk, so only her long, frizzy, pale-red hair is visible. She seems very small.

"You know, Will," Michael says in a slow, low voice. "I was going to say, 'I guess we'll find out'—if she's got a crush, I mean. But what if it turns out like Michael? And Caleb?" He looks at you. "What if I can't get her memories?"

You feel the blood drain from your face. You hadn't even thought of that.

"Yeah," he says. "What do you know about her? Like, where she lives, and—"

"I'll handle her," you reply. You're thinking very fast, as far ahead as you dare. "I'll put on the mask."

"I thought she was for me."

"She will be. Eventually. Tomorrow, we'll switch out. I can write up a biography of her for you to study. That way you can handle her when we switch out after school. Then if you need the night to get the, uh, memories, like with Michael—"

"If you don't mind, Will," Sydney says.

"I don't mind. It's the only way to handle it."

"Well, in that case." She laughs. "You're the one who's going to miss the bus."

* * * * *

Someone is trying to shake the darkness off you, and you're freezing. "I'll get up in a minute, Mom," you mumble, and feel around for the covers. There are none.

And that's when you realize you've fallen asleep on a skating rink.

Okay, it's not. But for a very confused couple of seconds you can't tell what's real and what's a plausible dream. You raise your head, then scramble up, and find that you're actually huddled up on the cold tile floor of a classroom. It's very dim.

"Will," a voice says. "Will?" But you pay no attention to the voice.

How can you, when you're naked?

You squeal and scramble backward across the floor, and bang your head against a desk. You gasp and nurse the bruised spot.

A figure squats in front of you. It's a teacher. It's Mr. Hagerman! And he—!

He is frowning into your face with a look of deep concern. "Will," he says again. "Will. You have to listen to me. Don't let her take over. You have to remember who you are."

Will? Why does he keep saying that name?

You remember now. You came back to Ms. Cho's class to pick up that extra credit assignment, and she made you wait while she got Mr. Hagerman. He came in and he picked something up off her lectern and he advanced on you and he—

Ohhhh! You curl into a ball and press your face to your knees. You feel like you're going to be sick.

Then, all at once, the feeling passes, and you raise your face again. Mr. Hagerman frowns back at you.

You return him a wicked grin. "Psych!" you gloat at him.

"Will?" he says.

"Yes!" You scramble to your feet. "Had you going there for a minute, didn't I?" I had myself going for a minute there too! you think shakily to yourself. But now I know who I am and what's going on and—

"Where's my clothes?" you ask. "I have to get going! If I miss the bus—!"

"I think you missed it already."

"Oh, shit!"

Then you clap a hand over your mouth. I can't believe I said the 's' word! "I mean, crumb!" you correct yourself. "I'm going to have to call my mom, and she's going to want to know how come I missed the bus, and—!"

"Calm down, Will," Mr. Hagerman says as he starts handing you your clothes. "I'll take you home."

"I don't think that would work!" you exclaim as you pull on a set of panties. You are shivering all over, not just from the cold but from a fear of touching your own body. "I mean, a guy teacher? Taking me home?"

Mr. Hagerman sighs. "Then just tell your mom you missed the bus because your teacher asked you to stay late."

That would probably work, but you still make a face. Today is not going the way that you planned, and—

You freeze, but at the same time it's like every muscle in your body relaxes. You feel your face slacken, and your eyes go distant. Mr. Hagerman gives you a guarded look, which you ignore as, with your attention a million miles away, you finish dressing: tiny bra, jeans, turquoise sweater, ankle socks, and sneakers.

Walking calmly, like an automaton, you exit the classroom and walk down to the nearest girls' restroom. Inside, you stand back from the sink and study your face. Michelle "Shelly" Nolan stares calmly back.

Then you clap your hands and dance in place. Magic is real! you exult.

Next: "At Home with Shelly Nolan" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 4)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 4)"