This choice: Switch back to being yourself • Go Back...Chapter #31First Days of New Lives by: Seuzz   "Ha!" You throw your head back. "Don't tell me Frank was right, that it's all so scary intense in there that you need out!"
"I can handle it, Will," she snaps. "Can you handle being that bobble-head?"
"Mmm." You waggle your eyebrows and grin. "Oh, you gotta set me up with Gloria. I mean, it's not like I really need any help, but it'd be quicker if she threw herself on me."
"So you're going to stay like that."
You sigh. "No, I'll switch back if you will. But dammit--" Your mouth twists up at the profanity. "But I will regret it in the morning. And in the afternoon, and the evening, and the cold, lonely nights--"
"Then let's get it off you now," she says, and stretches a hand toward you.
You bat her away. "Hang on. As long as I'm here I'll use him to mix up the-- Oh, fuck!" You slap yourself.
"What's wrong?
"Fucking moron. So impatient to get into Cara." You bite your lip hard, but that only makes your cock even stiffer. "We need the book to make up the golem stuff, and he took it with him." You glance over at the real Cara and the real Caleb. "I don't suppose you can keep them knocked out?"
"Not if I can't--" She brandishes her fist again.
"Well, fuck, where's my--." You pull the phone from Joe's discarded clothes and after a moment's thought dial up Cara. "I only hope he's not using the vibrate function to-- Hey, Cara!" you flirtatiously drawl.
"Hi Joe," she drawls back. "I thought I'd hear from you."
"You know me too well, and we only just met. Wanna get together? Like, now?"
"I'm just pulling back in the parking lot, and I've got something for you."
"Whoa," you say as you turn the phone off. "We'll have to do it quick. I think I can manage, but she might not be satisfied."
Chelsea makes a gagging noise. "Yeah, I'm definitely not going to share a house with that thing."
But Cara is cool and brusque when she appears. "You were needing this, weren't you?" she smiles, and thrusts the book at you. "I'll wait downstairs while you make up the--"
"Oh, man," you sigh, and close your fingers around the book. "And here I thought you were really--"
But she continues to grip the book tightly. You look up at her, and find that she's flushed and staring over your shoulder. You glance back. There's nothing there but the fake Frank Durras. Tall, lean, dark, naked--
"Bwa-ha-ha!" you cackle, and Cara looks back at you with an expression of pain and confusion. "Caught you looking at Frank with Cara's eyes! You know, there's a six-letter word for what you're fantasizing about, an anagram for 'insect', and boy are your eyes bugging out!"
She gasps and turns a deep crimson. "I said I'll be downstairs," she shouts, and practically runs from the room.
You howl long and hard after her, and turn to Chelsea. "Maybe you oughta stay like that," you finally gasp out. "Be a way of keeping one of them off-balance--"
"I'm changing back now," she says coldly, and drops to the floor. "You get that stuff made up. Use my hair in this mask." She tears Frank's face off and falls backwards onto the ground.
* * * * *
Cara isn't in the gym, she's out at her car, and you traipse out by yourself as yourself to hand the Libra over. "So, did you have fun up there?" she says without looking at you.
You'd very much like to tease her, but Joe's native sass has already evaporated from your head, and you actually feel a little ashamed of what you'd said and did. "I'm sorry," you say. "I shouldn't have--" But you have to bridle at the dirty look she gives you. "Look, your personality is a little overwhelming, dude, so if I was acting like an asshole--"
"Oh, so that was you," she snaps. "You're a real disappointment to me, Prescott."
You redden at the reprimand. "What? Oh, you were thinking I'm, like, nicer than Chelsea? Well, thanks. I guess."
She looks at you long and hard, then smiles tightly. "No. I was just hoping it was Chelsea fondling my cock while I wasn't there." She glances away a moment before looking back. "But you guys know now that Frank and me are--"
"Yeah, yeah," you say. The conversation is as awkward and embarrassing as you knew it would be. "It's all cool, I guess, at least on our end. That's why we switched back. Chelsea is upstairs fitting you guys' masks onto our friends. She's putting yours on Cara, so--"
"You say you switched back," she says, and her lip curls satirically. "Switched back as who, exactly?"
It's another not-so-veiled hint that Joe had spotted today's impostures. "As ourselves," you say. She just continues to smirk. "You know, you shouldn't act all high and mighty, like you're too good to have fun with these things too. Not after that show you put on--"
"I'll see you tomorrow, Prescott," she says, and gets in the car. "Well, Frank will see you tomorrow. I'll be hanging out with Chelsea."
Maybe she didn't mean for it to come out the way it sounds. But as she turns on the car, you feel a stab in your gut. And for the first time you can guess what Gordon Black felt whenever he caught someone openly staring at his girlfriend.
* * * * *
You pass the Durrases' golems on the gym floor--you going in and them going out--but you ignore each other. Upstairs, you find Chelsea touching up her makeup with her compact. "So, if we put our own masks back on," you say, "we'll be able to catch up on what we, uh, did as each other last night."
"I'm not interested," she says brusquely. "Is there anything I need to know?"
"I guess not," you say, flushing. "Anything I need to know?" She shakes her head. "Well, then--" You vibrate in place. "Is there anything we need to talk about?"
She turns a carefully blank face on you. "I don't know, Will. Is there?"
You glare at the floor. "Well, you asked me to put your mask on so I'd know what you're thinking." Your breath becomes labored. What would she think if you said that you still don't know what it was she wanted you to see or feel? You snort: You don't even know the answer to that question. "I think I'd rather hear it from you, whatever it is," you say.
She stares at you for a very long time. And then she says, "I guess it was a waste of time, then." She puts her compact away and picks up her bag. "I'll see you around."
You groan long and loudly after she's gone. Figuring out Lisa was tough enough. But Lisa was a kindergarten class compared to Chelsea. Dealing with her is like taking an advanced college course in female psychology--and having it conducted in a foreign language.
* * * * *
"It's bullshit," Caleb snorts. "Next time just kick him in the balls. No, don't even wait for next time. Go do it now."
"I should kick you in the balls," Keith retorts. "You trying to get me killed?" He rubs the seat of his pants, as though the wedgie he'd been complaining about were still riding on him, and leans back against the wall. "I can't even go to the movies anymore," he grumbles.
"Well, if I'd been there--"
"Yeah, where were you," Keith whines. "I tried calling you guys." He looks between you and Caleb. "Wound up going by myself."
"That's pathetic," you murmur.
Your observation vanishes under Caleb's honk: "What, you want us going around with you, like your bodyguards?" He holds out his hand. "Gimme twenty bucks and I'll go kick Javits' ass for you."
"Fuck you!"
"Yeah, cut it out, man," you say, finding yourself coming to Keith's aid. "It's easy for you to talk like that."
Caleb looks at you, and behind his hazel eyes you think you can detect a darker glint. "Yeah, it's easy for me, because Tilley's such a pussy I know he wouldn't even pay someone else to kick Javits' ass."
"You think you're so tough," you snarl, and shove him in the shoulder.
He shoves you back. "At least I can fight my own fights."
"You wanna fight? Meet me after school, cocksucker!"
"I'll do that!"
You glare at each other, and then by some mutual consent you both shrug. "You ready for Gladstone?" you ask.
"As ready as I'll ever be," he mutters.
"Lemme see your homework."
"What for?"
"So I can copy it. I was busy last night."
"You're always copying things!"
You both look over at Keith. "I told you, I went to the movies!" he says.
"Oh, you're both useless," Caleb growls. He puts his hands on his hips and kicks at the ground.
"What's useless is hanging out with you guys when I could be getting my homework done," Keith says, and snatches his bag up from the ground. Neither you nor your erstwhile "friend" stop him from going.
But his departure leaves you exposed to the unmediated company of the Caleb-disguised Frank Durras. "How's your head, dude," he asks. "Feeling like yourself, or feeling a little confused?"
"I'm fine," you retort. "How are you doing?"
"Trying to carry on like nothing's changed. That's the point of all this, right? Getting things back to normal?"
"I guess. It'll be nice. Mostly." You drag a knuckle across the rough brick of the school wall. "Yeah, right back to where we were a few weeks ago. Like nothing happened."
You feel his eyes on you. "Does Chelsea feel the same way?"
"Ask her."
"I'm asking you. Or have you not asked her?"
You flinch, then look up at him. Does he mean anything by that question, or is he just needling you?  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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