Chapter #41The Roots of a Long-Range Plan by: Seuzz   It seems best to play closely with Patterson—out of self-preservation if nothing else—and to show yourself as playing closely, too, so you send Joe a quick text message: Meet you at your house at 7. Not long after the reply comes back: K.
You kill time in the school library doing homework. Mun-hyeok comes in while you're there, and you watch him with vague interest. That proves to be a minor mistake, insofar as avoidable annoyances constitute mistakes. He looks over and sees you looking at him.
And he's not daunted.
It's not the first time you've locked eyes with the Korean exchange student, but all the other times have been in class, and briefly, and nothing has followed from them, any more than any other random glance has led to anything. But after shoving a book at the librarian, Mun-hyeok follows up this coincidence by striding over. "Sexy sexy," he says.
"What?"
"Sexy you, sexy me." He pulls out a chair with one foot and drops into it.
Sexy him? You're not up on the latest K-pop fashions (if such things actually exist), but you carefully and ostentatiously look him up and down while letting your lip curl slightly. His dark hair is tipped with electric blue, and cut so that it lays like a tray of knives aslant his forehead. Pie pan cheekbones slant down narrow cheeks to a small mouth and a pointed chin. A long neck extends from a white shirt that's unbuttoned well down from the collar. He has a nervous, whip-like quality, and he's got a reputation for being fast and hard with the English cuss words (and who knows what Korean filth in the torrents he unleashes when he's excited).
"Sexy me?" he repeats.
Uninterested, says Jessica's psyche. "Are you people at all capable of growing body hair?"
His eyes flash. "You like hairy? Fat, hairy cocks?" He slaps his thigh. "Delicious."
You arch your eyebrows. "Oh? You've tried them and found them delicious?"
Maybe he doesn't follow the sentence, but he follows the thought. "Try all kinds," he says softly, maliciously. "You should try all kinds."
This is revolting. And yet— You have a picture of Jessica, glimpsed from outside her skin, as you're capable of seeing her. Frigid? No, just scary. And you've felt her on the inside, her desire again for a hard, wild, loneliness-relieving ride. Jessica and Mun-hyeok would look good together.
Good like Attila and Maleficent.
But right now he just wants pussy. Or he just wants to be annoying. "Fuck off," you say, and return to your homework.
He continues to sit there. You pointedly ignore him, writing nonsense words on the sheet when solid thoughts fail you. Gradually, you become aware that his hand is snaking across the table toward your tits.
You grab him by the fingers and look up at him. He grins and grasps your hand back.
You smile thinly, and change your grasp so that you just have his index finger. Slowly, you pull it back while twisting. Your own smile widens as his evaporates. With a snarl he pulls away.
"That's what I did to your finger," you say. "Think what I could do to your cock. Your weak, tiny cock."
He spits something unintelligible and springs from the table.
Still, there's no use making a complete enemy. "Mun-hyeok," you call, and he turns to glare. "Don't give up." You hold his gaze, then return to your homework. He's gone the next time you look around. With luck he'll retreat and brood and try again. If he does, you'll be better prepared to take advantage of the approach—if you decide it's worthwhile.
* * * * *
Joe opens the door with a cheery tilt of the head. "You eat yet?" he asks.
"No," you answer as you brush past.
"Too bad. We don't have much in the house. Ramen. You like ramen?"
"Not much. You can have it."
"I'm not hungry. Which is weird. Boss isn't much interested in the more technical aspects of the Libra. Me, I find myself wondering where a golem gets its energy. You can't violate the laws of physics, even with magic, you know." He pauses. "And I sure hope some kind of sustenance gets through to the person beneath a mask." He points to his own face.
He's totally lost you, and all you can pick up on is "Boss." You repeat the word in a puzzled tone.
Then he looks puzzled for a minute before a look of realization breaks across his face.
"Oh, you were out of the loop," he says. "That's how come you texted me. Yeah, boss man switched places at lunch. He's off being Frank." His face tightens. "He thinks I'm a happy camper about all this now, but I'm just resigned to it." He looks you up and down with slight distaste. "Don't expect me to flirt with you, pervert."
"That's fine with me," you say with a mix of relief and unease. "So you weren't at the team meeting this afternoon?"
"Nope. It's still going on, I guess. Boss man didn't tell me anything about it, either. Didn't tell me anything, come to that, except to do his homework for him. I should get back to it. It takes time to come up with answers that are plausible but embarrassingly wrong." He slouches back down at the dining room table and speaks no more.
About twenty excruciating minutes later the door opens, and Frank comes in. The steel in his eye is much closer to what you've associated with Patterson, but it softens a little as he studies you from the doorway. Then his expression crinkles. "Come here and give me a kiss," he tells you.
"Don't try flirting, Frank," Joe calls from the dining room. "It's like watching Moltke conduct a blitzkrieg with pre-mechanized infantry. It's slow, Prussian, and hasn't a prayer of success."
Frank's lips whiten.
"And I can't make it shut up, either," he says to you in a quiet voice. "People would notice. Come on, let's talk in the living room."
That's fine with you, up to a point, and that point comes when he drops onto the sofa and pats his lap. You give him a look. "How was the team meeting?"
He makes a face. "Ugly. I went as Frank because I knew it would be hard, and Frank is good at forcing his way." He scratches an eyebrow. "We need to find someone at Eastman that Lynch can get close to and grab. Any ideas?"
"Can't get anyone with your help?"
"He has to do it without. That's the rule."
"Who does he know who goes to school here?"
"No one, apparently." He sighs. "I guess we'll have to set up some kind of mid-week party he can crash. What about a cheerleader? Is there anyone you can invite over to your place, and he can show up?"
"I'm not friends with any of them. And I don't do 'parties' or 'invitations'. It's complicated," you sigh when he cocks an eyebrow.
"So why don't you explain? We need to do some planning."
"I— Jessica— lives with her grandparents. I'm not even sure 'living with' them really describes it," you continue when he says nothing. "I'm more like a long-term guest. Visitors would not feel welcome, and they really wouldn't be."
He continues to stare, so you stammer out a fuller explanation, which sounds very petty and trivial when put into words. You might have hoped for a little sympathy or understanding, but when you're done he just grunts—a noise which makes him sound bored.
"What about doing it out here," you counter, feeling peevish at his attitude.
"Yeah, I guess that could work. We can turn this place into party central if we want, what with no adults around."
"You mentioned that this morning. What's the deal? How come these guys live alone?"
"It's complicated."
Now it's your turn to be querulous. "Well, why don't you explain?"
"Because I don't want to, and it's none of your business. And actually, I was suggesting that you do an invite because I thought it would be good if Jessica started having a social life. It's gonna be hard for you to help copy people if you keep standing up on that mile-high pedestal."
"I don't want to be on this mile-high pedestal," you retort. "I was looking at some of the other girls this morning, because I knew you'd be wanting masks of them, and thinking maybe I should change places with one of them."
"It's up to you," he shrugs. "Though you ought to wait a week, until next Sunday. Then we can let Jessica out in the parking lot at Westside, and it'll just look like it's the same Sunday we grabbed her. She'll have missed a week, but one week looks just like any other, so she'll just be a little bit confused."
"Then let's do that."
"Are you sure?"
You sag: Why is he being so argumentative?
His next words suggests he was reading your mind: "Because I was thinking we'd make a good couple."
"It's cute that you keep trying to get inside my brand-new pussy," you start to say through gritted teeth.
"It's not that. Well, it is, but you don't have to be there for all the penetrations I'd have planned. That's what golems are for. No, I'm talking about being the power couple. Kyle and Jenny are ripe for a fall. And don't tell me that Jessica's frigid bitch act is only because she's embarrassed by her gran-gran. She'd like to run things, I can tell, and she's got a list of people she'd love to take out.
"Doesn't she?" he adds in the tone of a man putting the last nail in the guillotine and inviting you to start herding victims toward the blade.  | Members who added to this interactive story also contributed to these: |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author