\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
    November     ►
SMTWTFS
     
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
Archive RSS
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1053256
Image Protector
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183311
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1053256 added July 29, 2023 at 9:45am
Restrictions: None
Mugging a Friend
Previously: "Everyone Has to Adjust SometimeOpen in new Window.

"Do we have to decide this now?" you ask. "Tomorrow's probably the earliest that I can -- "

"I think we kinda do have to talk about it," says Will. "'Cos I got work after school and you've got practice, so if one of us is going to use the mask we have to take that into account."

Well, that makes sense. You'd like to get the thing done quickly, so you end up looking at Caleb. "Looks like you're volunteered."

He groans. "Why me? I don't wanna get inside that psychotic little -- "

He freezes and goes white all over. He looks around. Clearly he has just realized he's surrounded by people who are either pretending to be Jason Lynch's best friend, or actually are Jason Lynch's best friend.

"He just plays rough, Johansson," you say. "I'll give it to you sometime at school, after I've got it -- "

"I don't have any clothes that'll fit!" Caleb says.

"Neither do I," you calmly return.

"Me neither," says Will, who is obviously enjoying Caleb's discomfort. "Anyway, you just need something floppy. Hell, you don't even need that. You just need his card and a drive-through ATM. You don't even gotta wear pants for that. Hell, not even a shirt." He slaps Caleb in the chest. "Lynch is just the kind to drive around shirtless."

"Oh God!" Caleb cries. "I'm not gonna drive around town with my -- " He pales even further, which would hardly seem possible. "I'm gonna have Jason Lynch's wang hanging down between my legs!"

You and Will look at each other. "If you're gonna be such a fucking drama queen about it, Johansson," you start to say.

"Alright, alright! I'll do it." He hurls himself onto the bed; then, realizing where he is, he gets up more gingerly from it. "I'm only doing this, you know, because we need the money and because I'm intellectually -- intellectually! -- curious. Not because I want to -- " He shudders all over, elaborately.

That settles things, and after some more light-hearted badinage about this and that, Prescott leaves. Caleb also excuses himself, but only to the bathroom so he can start preparing for bed.

You perform your own nightly rituals shortly after that, and the whole time you lightly puzzle over what Caleb said: "I'm not doing this because -- " Well, obviously he meant he wasn't interested in pretending to be Jason Lynch. You're not sure you'd like to pretend to be Lynch. Even with his friends he is oily and insincere and unpleasant.

But what is he implying about you and Gordon? Are you playing with the masks because you like to pretend to be each other?

It hasn't exactly been fun pretending to be Gordon. Look at where you are now, and how you got here. Even the benefits -- like having Chelsea Cooper as a girlfriend -- come with some pretty heavy costs. And if Caleb challenged you, you're pretty sure you'd tell him (and you probably wouldn't be lying) that you're only pretending to be Gordon because Gordon is pretending to be you.

And why is Gordon interested in pretending to be you? It can't be on account of your having such a wonderful life. In fact, he found your life so boring and tedious that he applied for and accepted a job that you'd been ferociously resisting. It must be that he's hanging on to your life for the same reason you'd willingly give up his: because whatever else can be said about the life of Will Prescott, at least it's better than the life of Gordon Black.

Except his life is better now; you've seen to that. So will he be taking it back soon? That was a sort-of bargain that you struck, wasn't it? That you'd try to fix up each other lives? And now that his is in a better shape -- Well, how happy would you be to give it back?

You're in bed by now, and you turn over onto your other side restlessly. It's gonna be damn awkward finding a way to relieve nightly tensions in a new place, especially with memories of Chelsea to engorge you. You bite on your lower lip as one memory in particular comes back.

Gordon also said something about getting a girlfriend, now that that subject is on your mind. Maybe that's what he's waiting for, or will wait for? A chance to fix "Will Prescott" up with someone? That would be nice, you guess; the hard part for you, it's always seemed when you imagine it, has always been the asking and the small talk on the first few dates. If Gordon could get you past that, the way you got Caleb past that with Eva -- though the fucker never followed up on it --

Drowsily you drift off with these thoughts.

* * * * *

"So when are you going to have me out there?" Chelsea asks. It's the next morning, and she's trying to settle into the passenger seat of the Bug. She's got that vexed, finicky look she always gets when she's in the car with you, because no matter what she pretends, she clearly hates it and hates touching it. "To your new place, I mean. Can we drive past it on the way to school?"

"You won't like it, Chels."

"Who says? Why not?"

"It's in a cheap part of town, and the woman who's renting me the room is letting me have it cheap because she needs the money."

Chelsea clucks her tongue. "Which is why we should find you a new place. I told you, pookie, that I'll -- "

You gun the engine and the Bug leaps forward into the busy street. "I like where I found, Chels," you tell her firmly. "I like the lady and I like the place, and I don't need you telling me it's crap and I need to move."

"But where are we going to hang out?" She pouts.

"We've got the loft, we've got your place -- "

"But your old place -- "

"We couldn't hang out at my old place when I was living at my dad's, so nothing's hardly changed."

"Except you have to work now. I missed you over the weekend." She puts her arm in yours and snuggles close. "I needed my pookie bear."

A thrill races over every square centimeter of your skin, and you sit up straight in your seat as your cock unfurls. "Your pookie bear needed you too, believe me." You pull to a stop behind traffic that's backed up at a light, and seize the chance to lean over and nip at her ear. "Today, after school -- "

"Steve will want to see you," she sighs. "And Jason. Like yesterday."

"I'll see them at practice. I want to see you." You clasp her thigh, but it's encased in denim. "Come on. After practice I'll come up from the showers in a towel, and -- "

"I just wish you'd consulted me a little more before moving into this place. Didn't you say it belongs to someone we go to school with?"

"She doesn't work at Westside."

"I mean her kid. It's a guy, isn't it?" she asks doubtfully. "Jesus, Gordon, you didn't -- "

"Of course it's a guy! No way I'd be able to rent a room at a place where -- "

"And he goes to Westside? Who is it?"

You've been tensing all over as you tried dodging these questions, and now you're practically rigid. "No one you've heard of, I'm sure. Name's Johansson. Caleb, I think."

You've got a road to watch, which is a good reason not to glance over at her. But your ears definitely pick up on the silence. When you reach another light, you look over at her. Chelsea has her arms folded and his staring straight ahead with a thoughtful expression. "Trying to remember who he is?" you ask.

"No, I know who he is," she says in a very neutral tone. "Interesting."

"No he's not." You lean in for another kiss, but she pulls back. "I barely talked to him, and he's not -- "

"I didn't say he was. I said the situation was interesting. Which it is. And I'm getting a headache." She covers her mouth and nose with both hands. "The fumes in this thing," she says.

* * * * *

All in all, it's the start to a very typical day for Gordon Black, from the narrowly averted fight with Chelsea to the brutal basketball session. You grow increasingly nervous as third period approaches, because that's when you plan to copy Lynch into a mask, and you're not sure how you'll handle that.

In the event, Gordon's own bluff instincts take over. When Lynch meets you in the loft, you wait until his back is turned, then wrap one massive arm around his chest and with a meaty hand press the blank mask to his face. Then you wait patiently for it to reappear, and stow it with your gear. You take a meandering trip downstairs for a soda from a machine, watch a few cute sophomore girls go running down the hall, then mosey back to the loft in time to find Lynch sitting up with a confused expression on his face. You ask if he thinks you're boring, since he fell asleep almost as soon as he showed up in the loft. He spends the rest of the period with a stricken expression on his face, but never accuses you of doing anything to him, and naturally you pretend nothing happened. You pass the mask -- in a paper sack -- to Caleb just before sixth period.

You think that'll be the end of it until you can see him at his house for dinner. But right after practice ends, you check your cell and find three frantic text messages from Caleb. He begs your help, but he won't tell you what the problem is.

You're puzzling over this when you come out of the changing room -- still wet from the shower -- to find Chelsea cooling her heels on the gym floor.

Next: "Masking ProblemsOpen in new Window.

© Copyright 2023 Seuzz (UN: seuzz at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Seuzz has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1053256