The Book of Masks (Abridged)

People Have Inhibitions for a Reason, You Know

NEITHER OF CALEB'S PLANS appeals to you, but you have to admit the utility of what he's proposing: getting a mask of a pretty girl to experiment on. You don't want to be the one who looks like an asshole, though, you say that you'll ambush Lisa while he's on that date with her.

It seems all set, until— "Shit, how are we going to get a mask polished up in time for tomorrow night?"

"Don't worry, I got an idea. I was watching TV with your dad—"

"What were you doing that for?"

"He invited me to! I dunno why you're always complaining about him, I'm getting along with him fine. Anyway, I see a commercial with this guy buffing his car. You know, with one of those hand-held things? So I figure, why won't that work on the masks?"

"Uh, maybe because it's not magic?"

"It was a rhetorical question, dumbass. Anyway, we used all kinds of industrial stuff when making these, I bet this'll be no different. So your dad has one of those buffers, and I'll take it over to the clubhouse this afternoon. And while I'm doing that, you know my money stash in my dresser? Take it and go buy some more stuff."

* * * * *

The rest of the day passes without excitement, with you and Caleb briefly switching back to normal during the middle of the day before switching back. You don't even try to act in a Caleb-like way, and no one remarks on any odd behavior on your part or on your partner's. The rest of the day slides by smoothly, though you work harder at taking notes in AP Physics, lest Carson and James—who are also in there—catch you slacking. You're also careful in there because of what happened with you and Patterson yesterday. But he ignores you, during and after class.

After that you run back to Caleb's house, pick up his money, and buy those supplies: enough, you estimate, for the two more masks that Caleb thinks you need to finish the "experiments."

"Check it out," he says when you barge into the school basement, and waves a mask at you. The front side is almost completely free of impurities; he hasn't started work on the inside curve. "That was only after forty minutes. Shit, I'll be done here in time for dinner." He looks through the sacks you brought. "You should come back over here at seven, and try to make up at least one more, maybe two."

"Uh uh, I'm probably gonna have a play date with Tilley." You relate a short conversation you had with Keith during second period, in which he complained of being ignored. "If we want to keep him out of our hair, we gotta do a better job keeping him happy."

"Fine, that's a reasonable sacrifice," Caleb says. "I'd do it myself, but, tch, I've got that date with Umeko tonight." He winks slyly at you.

You feel a twinge of jealousy, one only slightly relieved by your memory of the date with Eva. But you say nothing. He then gives you the homework that "Will" needs to do, and you give him the homework that "Caleb" needs to do, and part for the evening. Tomorrow will be another day like today: as each other until third period; as yourselves until lunch; then as each other for the rest of the day.

Keith does call you, at around six-thirty, with the suggestion of getting a burger, but "mom" is almost done fixing supper, so you put him off until seven-fifteen. That's when he picks you up, and you drive around for an hour, talking about nothing in particular and with him none the wiser as to who you really are. At least it shuts him up about you and "Will" avoiding him.

* * * * *

The next day, at third period, you're back as yourself, but skip third period to see if Eva is in the library. You're curious to see how you act around her when you're being yourself, and to see how she treats you.

But you almost turn around and leave when you walk in. Eva is there alright, but she's not alone. Chelsea Cooper is with her.

Looked at objectively, Chelsea Cooper might not be the most beautiful girl in school. There are girls who have better hair and cuter faces and svelter figures and more prodigious assets. Most of them also don't have the kind of personality that frightens dogs, horses, and small children. But Chelsea Cooper combines a social position (head of the cheerleading squad, dating the captain of the powerful basketball team) and a character trait (utter ruthlessness) that make her the "most popular girl" in school by universal if maybe not heartfelt acclamation. And these she also unites in a physical package that, if surpassed in detail by others in the school, is probably the most lusciously well-balanced. Her tangle of blonde hair sits atop a baby-cute face with large, blue eyes, an upturned nose and bow-like lips. She is short and compact and strong with muscles that are firm and round in just the right places: butt, thighs, and calves. Her torso has a vase-like shape whose bowl-like pedestal is balanced by large, firm breasts. She wraps it all in tight clothes that leave little to the imagination even while she daunts male admirers with a tilted chin and distant gaze.

And right now she's sitting next to Eva Garner, lazily drawing an emery board along her nails. If you didn't know Eva—and if you weren't friends with the guy Eva has decided to give a shot to—you wouldn't dare sit at the same table with her.

But you've also learned to be brave over the last few days. "Hey Eva," you say as you pull out a chair. "Hi Chelsea," you add as you sit.

Eva greets you by name. Chelsea stares at you blankly, as though she can barely focus on you. "Have you talked to Caleb yet today," you ask Eva.

She shakes her head.

And before you can reply Chelsea inserts herself. "Tss," she says, and rolls her eyes. "Are you a friend of his? Oh, why am I asking? Look at you."

"Yeah, why don't you look at me," you hear yourself blurting out. And she does, with a double-take when you add, "Or do you think you'd go blind?"

She says nothing, but focuses on you a little more intensely. Eva's lips whiten. "We were just talking about Caleb," she murmurs, and avoids your eye.

Really. "I just wanted to be sure he didn't chicken out," you tell her. "Don't let him, okay?"

Chelsea, again: "You like pushing your friends over cliffs?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Pushing him where he doesn't belong," she says, and points the emery board at Eva. "You heard what she said. We were just talking about him."

Something inside you snaps. Or maybe you've lost an inhibition. But it comes out without your meaning it to. "Are you saying my friend's not good enough for your precious little high school clique?"

Chelsea smirks lightly.

"Are you saying that, even though my friend is smart and funny and he's going to amount to something because he isn't a shit-for-brains dumbass gorilla like the one you're fucking?"

The smirk vanishes.

"The fuck is your boyfriend going to do, get a job breaking cinderblocks with his forehead? Is that how low you think you rate? Or maybe you just figure on riding Gordon's cock until you graduate, then you'll find some Wall Street racketeer, shake your boobies at him—" You unwisely demonstrate. "And move into a big house with a pool boy you can fuck when your husband isn't home." You run out of breath.

Chelsea says nothing. She doesn't move and she doesn't change color. She just stares at you. But you look at Eva's face, and decide it's best not to make things worse for her by staying, and push off. At the library door you glance over your shoulder, and see that Chelsea has gone back to lazily scraping her fingernails.

* * * * *

During the break before lunch, you and Caleb separate, as is becoming customary, repairing to separate restrooms to change into each others' masks. It's begun to get a little boring, since absolutely no one is noticing the switch. Maybe this shows you've been hanging around each other too long—you're too much alike—and as you exit the restroom you're thinking maybe this should be the last day of the switch-offs.

But all those vague speculations instantly evaporate as you're lifted from behind into the air. A strong hand has seized you by the belt, and another one closes like a vise around the back of your neck. As you yelp and wave your arms and legs, you are hustled aloft toward the doors leading outside. Students dive out of the away. Well, most of them dive. A lot of them jeer and whistle at you.

Bones crunch as your captor batters the doors open with your face and chest; then the portables loom ahead. A pod of sophomores scatters. You have lots of time to soil yourself in anticipation of the impending climax, for you're being led to the very back, where no one can see. When you arrive, you are slammed face first into one of the portables. "Now, you little fuck," a voice growls in your ear. You tense as the hands release you. Then—

"Jesus, Will, snap out of it and help!" Wincing, you look behind. Caleb, white of face, is standing over Gordon Black, who is sprawled on the ground. "We gotta hide him before—"

"What did you do to him?"

"The only thing I could think of!" He brandishes his open backpack. "I saw he had you, so I ran after and jumped him and got one of those blank masks onto his face!"

You gulp. "You—? Oh, Jesus, let's get out of here! When he wakes up—"

"When he wakes up it's gotta be as someone else," says Caleb with a desperate ferocity. "The only way we continue living is if he becomes one of us, and one of us becomes him!"