The Book of Masks (Vol. 3)

When Ambitions Collide

Previously: "Chelsea's Special Touch" 

So Chelsea wants another mask. That's no trouble. You've got two unfinished ones on hand: the one that Gordon had been working on, and the one that you made as part of your own experiments.

But they have to be polished until they are blue. At home, after an hour of rubbing at one with a cloth, you grimly conclude that it's going to take a lot of serious elbow grease to get the thing done.

It's your dad, surprisingly, who comes to your rescue.

You're lounging on your bed with the mask and watching YouTube videos on your cell phone when he barges in to ask when the last time was you had the oil changed in your truck. You don't remember, so he gives you his credit card and tells you to have it done on your way home from school tomorrow. Then he asks about the thing you've got in your hand.

"It's a school project," you stammer. "Someone else's project, I mean. Art project. I'm helping."

"How?"

"Polishing it. It's, uh, supposed to be blue all over."

With a scowl he takes it from you and studies it. Then he leads you downstairs to the garage, where he unpacks a car buffer and shows you how to work it. "Maybe this'll make it go faster," he says.

And it does. Inside of two hours, you've polished up both masks.

* * * * *

That still gives you plenty of time to think about what Chelsea said to you at her house. About how you might want to ... turn yourself into one of your classmates.

She told you a good story, that's for sure: How by turning yourself into Yumi or Lin or Cindy you could find out why Lisa dumped your ass, and what you could do about it.

But you saw through her.

You're not close friends with those girls, or with the Garner sisters, but you've heard them talking about the cheerleader squad, and the kind of things that happen on it. How Chelsea is a tyrant and a terror, how most of the girls hate her and want to kick her out as squad captain, and how she sends her lickspittles around to spy and spread hateful gossip.

So Chelsea doesn't want you to spy on Lisa. She wants you to spy on her rivals; and since Yumi and Lin and Cindy are three of her enemies, she probably wants you to use the disguise to spy on them and maybe spread a little mischief.

Which is okay. Well, it's not okay-okay, it's certainly not moral or ethical, but you get it.

But if you go along with her, it will be on your own terms and for your own benefit.

* * * * *

"I'm gonna get a new girlfriend," you declare to your friends the next day at lunch. You and Caleb and Keith are sitting behind the school, in a corner where you're not likely to be hassled. You drop the declaration into the awkward silence that descends after Keith finished complaining about a math quiz that he bombed.

"Did you hear what I said?" you ask when neither of your friends responds.

"I heard you," Caleb says. "Good luck with that." He shoves his sandwich into his mouth and keeps his eyes locked onto the empty baseball diamond across the way.

"You think I can't get one, don't you?"

"I didn't say that."

"What about you?" you challenge Tilley.

"I ain't sayin' nothin'," he replies.

You feel your face turning red. "No, you guys really think I can't. Well, fuck you."

"We're not the ones you're trying to get a fuck on with," Caleb says.

Keith starts to scoop up his unfinished meal. "Where are you going?" you demand.

"Someplace else," he says. "I got my granddad's trick knee, I think it's telling me there's bad weather coming."

You glower at his retreating back, and let the silence extend for another minute before turning back to Caleb. "The fuck is wrong with us?"

"There's nothing wrong with me."

"I mean, none of us have a girlfriend. What's wrong with us that we don't?"

"You had one," Caleb says in a very neutral tone, and pours the last of his potato chips into his mouth. "At least you said you did. Are you really over Lisa?"

"Sure. That's how come I'm saying I want a new one. But I'm not getting a lot of support, it seems like."

Caleb makes a face. "The fuck do you want me to say, Will? What would you say if I said, I'm gonna get me a new girlfriend?"

I'd say, When did you have an old one? "I'd say, Great, who you got your eye on? Who are you gonna ask out?"

Caleb looks startled. "Really? You'd say that?"

"It's what a friend would say."

His ears turn red. "Okay. So who you got your eye on? Who you gonna ask out?"

"I don't know." You stretch out on your side. "That's one reason I wanna talk about it. Who do you think I should ask? I mean—" You shrug. "Who'd be worth asking?"

"Anyone would be worth asking. If you don't mind the answers you might get back."

You feel your face flushing again. "So who'd give me an answer I'd like?"

Caleb sighs, says, "I don't know, man," and starts to put his stuff away.

"I'll tell you someone you could ask out," you say, and you grin privately as your friend freezes. "Sure, I'll tell you someone you could ask, if you tell me someone I could ask out."

Caleb's eyes narrow. "With a happy reply?"

"A happy reply."

Caleb's expression has grown very tight, and his lips hardly move when he says, "Who?"

"Cassie Harper." Chatterbox Cassie, you don't add. A short redhead who's always in danger of swallowing flies because her mouth is always open. She's cute, you suppose, but all her talking makes your ears ache.

"You serious?"

"Sure. You know she had a thing going with Carson at the start of the year."

"I didn't know that, but what's it got to do with me?"

"'Cos it's Ioeger, dumbass, and you and him are, like, variations on a theme." Tall, gangly, brainy, and kind of funny looking. "If she went for someone like Carson, why wouldn't she go for someone like you? Now it's your turn. Who for me?"

"Gimme a minute," he stammers. "You really kind of threw me for a ... uh ... Cassie?" His eyes bulge slightly.

You grin. "You like her?"

"No. Not especially. Never really thought of her as, uh—"

"You wanted me to name a cheerleader? Eva or Jessica, maybe? Gloria Rea?"

"No! I mean— Yeah!" He jumps as the bell rings. "I don't know, Will!"

"Come on, give me a name."

"Cassie Harper," he says as he gathers up his trash. "You can have her."

"Another name, man!"

"Then one of those girls Cassie hangs out with!"

"Fuck you. You know, I put some actual thought into what I said, about you and Cassie." It's a lie, of course—you more or less invented it up off the top of your head. "Least you can do is put some thought in for me!"

"Alright! This afternoon. After school. Tonight. Look, I hafta get to class—"

"You have a study hall."

"Then I gotta get to study hall. I'll talk to you later," he says over his shoulder as he scuttles away.

Like bullshit you will, you think at his retreating back.

* * * * *

Chelsea puts her hands on her hips and glowers at you. "So how long's it gonna be before you get the thing done so we can test it?" she demands.

It's a little before five, and you really should be heading home. But she summoned you up here to the gym loft for a conference after the basketball team was done practicing. You want the extra time to think things through, and that's why you lied to her last night about not having any masks done when she texted you about it.

"A couple of days, I think," you reply. "It takes a long time to polish one of those things up, you know."

She snorts. "No, I don't know, Will. But you know, the sooner you get the thing done, the sooner you can start finding out why Lisa—"

"Yeah, now that's something I've been thinking about that," you say, and ignore her blink of surprise at being interrupted. "I've decided to give up on that. On Lisa, I mean."

Now she looks like she's been slapped. "But you said—!"

"I know what I said. But then I got to thinking, and it's, like—" You lean casually against a wooden crate. "Why go through all that trouble to get a girl who I already know doesn't want me? I can just get another girlfriend."

Her eyes narrow. "You can?" Her tone is ugly and skeptical—like a challenge.

"Sure. You've got a boyfriend, right?" Your lip curls into a smile. "That mask you put on Gordon makes him do what you want." You shrug. "I can use a mask to get me a girlfriend like that."

Chelsea turns very pale. You wonder why. Is it because you're rebelling against her plan? Or is it because she is actually horrified by the idea of making a kind of sex slave?

But she masters herself. "Okay, like who?" she asks. "You know Yumi could be—"

"I don't want Yumi. I don't think I want anyone on the cheerleader squad. Because that wouldn't be believable. Would it?" You tilt your chin at her.

You'd love it if she squealed something like, Any of us would love to go out with you, but you don't expect her to, and she doesn't.

"That's why you should get inside Yumi's head," she retorts. "Or Lin's. Someone who knows you, Will," she says in a more simpering tone. "Someone who can tell you what kind of a girl would be good for you."

"Meh. Too much work."

She flushes. "Then just cut to the freaking chase already," she spits. "Just turn yourself into a guy who's already got a girlfriend!"

Next: "Set a Matchmaker to Find a Matchmaker" 

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"Table of Contents (Vol. 3)" 
"The Book of Masks (Vol. 3)"