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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1058192-Welching-on-Your-First-Bet
by Seuzz Author IconMail Icon
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183561
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1058192 added October 29, 2023 at 9:48am
Restrictions: None
Welching on Your First Bet
Previously: "Administrative ActionOpen in new Window.

Caleb doesn't really seem enthused at the idea of turning himself into a fat black woman named Miriam Haskins.

"Well," you explain to him in a voice tight with impatience, "it doesn't have to be Miriam. Except to get someone else for you, I'll have to switch places with someone else—"

"And wouldn't that be a tragedy," your doppelganger retorts.

You are suddenly very conscious of this body you are wearing. It is a heavy body, a shapeless body, squeezed into a bra and tight-fitting foundation garments, and a black-and-white silk dress that binds tightly to every bulge of belly and hip.

It wasn't bad as you were getting dressed this morning. You didn't feel "sexy," but you did feel ... beautiful in your amplitude.

But maybe that was Barbara's psychology and personality at work. Because now, under your friend's caustic eye, you just feel fat and wobbly.

"I only care about finding a good place to work from," you growl at him. "Remember, this was your idea, getting ourselves into someone's house so we could—"

"I thought you wanted out of your house."

"So it's what we both wanted! But if you've got a problem with it—" You glare at him. "Well, what are your ideas?"

"Don't you have any?" he coolly replies.

You glare at him. Then you heave yourself to your feet—you're uncomfortably conscious that you have to push yourself up from the table, while Will Prescott scrambles directly onto his—and gesture him to follow you out. The girls at the front desk are busy with students, or are eating at their desks, so no one pays the slightest attention as you wobble your way out of the office and around the corner.

Just across from the offices, behind a long series of floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows, are the tutorial/guidance offices. Visible through the transparent walls are the desks of the tutors, and at one of them sits Shannon Welch.

She is a small, young woman with pale, almost translucent skin, large eyes, and dark-red hair pulled back in a bun. She is dressed today, as she is always dressed, rather mannishly in a lumpy blue sports jacket, pale slacks, and a white shirt buttoned all the way up to her throat. The remains of her lunch are sitting at hand while she concentrates on her laptop with a frown.

You turn your back on her and fold your arms to address Will.

"That's Shannon Welch," you tell him. "She's one of the tutors. Is she prettier than me?"

Will looks startled, then peevish, as he glances between you and Shannon.

"What does that matter?" he asks. "We're not doing this 'cos—"

"Are you sure that's not why we're doing it? Then what was with the personal remarks back there in the office?"

"Jesus, Will!"

You snort and turn to the doors to the tutorial offices. Will starts to follow, but then hangs back.

"Hey!" you bellow at Shannon. She starts, and looks up at you with a hanging jaw. "How come I always see you eating by yourself?" You grin. "Or do ya just not like the cafeteria food?" You glance down at the remains of her lunch: some kind of tomato-and-pasta dish, in a plastic container.

"It's the only time I have off at school to work on personal stuff," Shannon says. Her brow furrows, and her eyes dart about.

"Better not be porn!" You giggle. "But seriously, I got a favor to ask."

* * * * *

So, without even bothering to consult with Caleb, you set up an afterschool meeting to capture and switch places with Shannon Welch. You (that is to say, Barbara) have had little to do with her, and you are surprised at how mousy and compliant she is to your request to stay after five for a little "talk." To Caleb, you give a special set of orders, which with a sour expression he agrees to follow.

The rest of the day passes for normal. You deal with paperwork involving the school clubs and sports teams—there is some drama involving the East-West Club, and Kim Walsh, as student council president, has asked you to see if there's some money that can be squeezed out of the school district to smooth things over—and gossip with the other girls in the office about Mr. Rehman and Mr. Fernandez. A couple of parents come in to talk about disciplinary problems with their children. Basically, just a succession of small fires that have to be put out. You also field texts from Miriam, who has been hankering to do something special with you and the other gals for Halloween, which is only week away.

By four o'clock, though, the office is clear of student aides, and the secretaries are packing up by four-thirty. Mr. Dow (who, it turns out, has recently been diagnosed with prostate cancer, though that's a fact known only to you, Mr. Sagansky, and Mr. Staufford) is looking so tired and down at the mouth that you insist on sending him home early, promising that you'll finish up the budgetary items he has been working on. But you are not merely being thoughtful in the Barbara Meek manner when you do so. It's the excuse you give Staufford and Sagansky when you tell them, as they are getting ready to go, that you need to stay a little late. They wish you a good night and leave you alone in the school.

Except for the new security guard. And Shannon Welch. Who you made sure was waiting around for you.

Caleb has also been and gone from the office, stopping in only long enough to give you a sack with the blank but prepared mask he fetched from the old basement. You are armed with this when you waddle out of the office.

"Good night, Rick!" you call to the security guard—who is quite handsome, but also very intimidating in a "hard-ass cop" kind of way. He smiles curtly back at you from the front doors.

And since you don't want him accidentally stumbling on what you'll be getting up, you follow up with, "Oh, and can I get you to go ahead and check all the outside doors, make sure they're locked? Including the music annex and theater and those? I know you will anyway, but one of our teachers— I don't wanna say who," you stammer a little, for Rick is giving you a very hard look. "But she was asking if—"

"Yes ma'am," Rick says. The skin and muscles of his face are very tight as he marches off toward A-wing. Well, you've just stored yourself up some trouble, Barbara, you tell yourself. He's probably going to make a point of reporting back to you after he's made those rounds.

So you don't waste any time. Shannon is tapping away on her laptop as you approach the tutorial offices, but she sees you coming, and quickly wraps up whatever she is working on. You don't go in, and only crook a finger at her. With a puzzled frown, she gets up.

You wait for her at the office door, and squeeze her arm comfortingly as you open it for her.

"I hope I didn't make you nervous or anything when I asked you to stay," you tell her. "It's only that it's kind of a sensitive topic." Out of the corner of your eye you see Will Prescott loitering outside the main doors into the school, but you ignore him for the moment.

"It looks like we're going to have a position open up in the administration," you continue as you gesture Shannon to precede you down the hallway into the back," and Jeff wanted me to sound you out about it." With her back turned, you quickly pull the mask out of the bag you had positioned on the front counter. "There's going to be some competition for it, and, well, we don't want other people knowing who we're talking to. Door on your left," you add. She steps through the doorway to the conference room and you're right behind her, and once you're over the threshold you catch her from behind and push the mask into her face. She instantly goes limp, and almost drags you to the floor as you catch her. With a lot of sudden puffing, you lay Shannon out flat on the ground. Then you hustle back out.

Will starts pulling at the front doors when he sees you, but they don't open. Nor do they open when you push at the arm. You look up into each other's faces in alarm. Rick has already locked the front doors!

"Run around to the side entrance," you yell through the glass, and point off in the direction of the gym. "Hurry!" He bolts off. You chew your lip, because what happens if Rick has already locked those doors as well? He was headed the opposite way when you saw him, and it will take him awhile to work his way back to the other side, where Caleb is going to try getting in.

It turns out that the other doors were not locked, and so just a minute or two later your doppelganger comes pounding down the hallway toward you. For a moment you feel a pang of spiteful jealousy at his ability to hustle hard. You'd give yourself a heart attack if you tried running even half as fast as him.

"Quick, in the back, into that conference room," you tell him as you push him into the office. You lock the doors behind you, so you won't be bothered by Rick.

You meet Will in the conference room, where he is looking down at Shannon Welch.

"So, which of us is going to put on her mask?" he asks.

Next: "Meek and MeekerOpen in new Window.

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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1058192-Welching-on-Your-First-Bet