This choice: Keep her at the freshman level • Go Back...Chapter #51Circles and Circulation by: Seuzz   "Why would I want to be any of my classmates?" Joanna demands when you suggest she could have some of her freshman peers as extras. She has so perfectly captured Carrie's aggrieved, aggressive tones that you almost have to remind yourself that it's not the real girl. In fact, it worries you a little. What if the fake Carrie starts casting envious eyes on what the real Carrie has acquired?
In a sense, she already has. But you think you've got the girl correctly sized up, and you think you can deflect her. "What do you want, Carrie?"
If she thinks you've called her by the wrong name, she doesn't show it. "I want senior girls, Frank," she retorts. "Senior girls like-- Like Becky Torres. And Jenny Taylor. And-- And--" She trembles like she's going to burst. "And Alyssa Randal!" she shouts.
And there it is. She wants what Carrie has been getting.
"I understand, Carrie," you say soothingly. "But what did you want before we showed you these masks?"
Her head swivels like a barstool toward you. You keep staring ahead as you drive. She crosses her arms, and sinks down into the seat. "Before we had these masks, I couldn't be Carrie," she says in a small but furious voice.
"That's right, Joanna," you say, and now lightly accent the proper name. "You're Carrie now. But what did the old Carrie want? The Carrie who didn't know she could become other people? That's who you want to be, isn't it? The Carrie you used to know?"
Joanna presses her chin to her chest. "I dunno. To be popular. To have friends. Have fun."
"To have fun making people do what she wanted?"
Her nostrils flare, and a nasty, satirical grin bursts across her face. "Yes," she sneers. "That's exactly what she wanted."
"And she can have that now," you calmly point out. "You can have that. You can have five girls, Joanna. Five girls who will do exactly what you say, because they will be your slaves. You can tell them exactly what to do, and use them to get other people to do exactly what you say, because you are very popular, and your friends will make you more popular, because they'll be your slave. And you'll even be able to be these friends, and have what they have, when you want to."
You smile at her. She stares back. Her gaze is bright but glassy, her attention elsewhere. "I could, couldn't I?" she says softly.
"Exactly. So who do you--?"
"Monique Travers," she quickly says. "And Sarah White."
Predictable. The girls that have senior boyfriends. "Well, there's two. You only need three--"
"And Nick Diaz. I don't want to be him," she quickly adds. "But he can be my slave. He's cute, you know, and girls really like him, and he'll hang out with us and be cool, and then they'll--"
Wow, she is clever, you think. "What about a boyfriend for yourself?" you ask.
"Oooh! Could I have one senior, one senior to be my boyfriend?" she hungrily asks. "Or no, maybe I should have two boys down in my own class, and they can compete for me, and I'll be all, like--" She tosses her hair.
Patterson won't want freshman boys. "You should have a senior boyfriend, Carrie," you say. "It'll look good, with you hanging out with Monique and Sarah and Jonathan and Shawn."
"And you and Joe?" she slyly asks.
"Of course with us," you smoothly reply. "We like you. That's how come--"
"Kyle Lakewood!" she shouts.
You jump a little. "Um, I think it should be someone who hasn't already got a girlfriend," you say. "There's lots of good choices. You should talk with Maddy, though. I think she'd have an opinion."
"I think I know what she'd want," she archly replies.
"Don't assume anything, Joanna. You don't want to accidentally get Maddy mad at you."
"I'll talk to her," the girl says with the confidence of one who's sure of getting her own way. "She's told me I can start hanging around with her and her friends. Where are we going?" She looks around.
"Right here," you say, pulling back up in front of her house. You've been prowling the neighborhood, driving around blocks. "We just needed to talk, right? Joe and I will have two masks for you tomorrow, to use on--"
"Monique and Sarah," she says. "Oh, thank you, Frank!" She gives you a big hug, and then starts to cry. "You're so-- So--"
"Back inside with you," you say, and give her a little chuck on the cheek. She scrambles out, then blows you a kiss before running away.
* * * * *
The next two days, blessedly, almost pass without crisis. Tuesday night and Wednesday afternoon are occupied with making more masks: tedious work, but much better than dealing with crazy girls or the problems of getting masks onto and off of people. It worries you when you don't hear from anyone--you're so used to having to give people direction and help--and are mightily pleased when Ian Carpenter drops by Sunday afternoon and hands you two masks. "A matched set," he grins. "Kyle and Jenny."
You let out a low whistle. "Who are you, and what have you done that fuck up, Keith Tilley?"
He snickers and stretches strong arms over his head. "The sad thing is, I've been learning a hell of a lot about myself," he says. "I'm a drip. I lack confidence. Part of me wants to go over to Westside and smack the fake me around for being such a dorkwad."
"What does the rest of you want to do?"
"Give Javits a wedgie. What about you? You learning anything about Will Prescott?"
"Lots."
"Like what?"
"That he's not half the fuck up Tilley is."
Ian shoves you. You shove him back. It turns into a quick scrimmage, and since you've none of Frank's supernatural talents, you have to use his actual physique. That still makes it a one-sided fight in your favor, but one that's a little longer than it would have been otherwise. "Okay, uncle," Ian gasps from beneath you.
You let him up. "Got two more masks for you," you say, and lead him back to the garage. "More for everyone, but you're in the lead. We were thinking of getting Karter, weren't we?"
"We were? Well, him or Alyssa."
"Get Karter. Peter Robins, too," you add after a moment's thought.
"Lotta guys," he says. "Doesn't Patterson want girls? Or is he--?"
"Guys who can get girls, too. Don't worry, I think you're the only one who's been scooping up cocks."
"How's Lynch doing?" He suddenly sounds worried.
"I haven't even given him any masks," you grin. "You'll make senior before he even gets his first."
"That's a relief," he says, and his voice even trembles a little.
* * * * *
But you do need to get masks to Lynch, lest he call Patterson again to complain. You also have some for Sarah, though with her you'll have to explain the idea of getting additional "homes." Fortunately, she gives you an opening.
"I'm still worried about David," Dana says. She is slumping in the swing in the back yard. "You said you'd fix it, Frank, but people are still--"
"It's only been a few days. It takes time to get these things set straight."
"She says you gave her some extra masks," Dana says, and squints over at you. "Carrie-- I mean, Joanna, said the same thing. Like, slaves."
"That's right. Would you like some too?"
She stares at you, then shrugs. "I only care about David."
"You know the way David can put the gay rumors to rest real quick?"
"By going out with me?" she quickly says.
"By going out with lots of girls."
Horror spreads over her face. "Oh God, that's even worse than--"
"But maybe it's not lots of girls," you say. "Maybe it's only one girl. One girl who's pretending to be different girls." You let the implication sink in.
"But he'd still think it was different girls," she says in a sinking whisper.
"And you make sure they're all bitches," you reply. "Make Dana Pak look real good in comparison."
She gasps, and covers her mouth with her hands. "That would be so--" she says in a muffled voice. Then her eyes crinkle, and she drops her hand to show the grin. "Wicked!"
"Make a list, and we'll bring you some masks tomorrow."
* * * * *
You do have two masks for her in the morning, and she's got two for you: Monique Travers and Sarah White. "Carrie gave them to Sarah to give to me to give to you," she says, and makes a face. "It's kinda creepy, actually, having your little sister--"
At lunch you take David Johnson gently by the shoulder and steer him outside. "You're gonna have to start dating girls," you tell him, and hand him a sack with two masks inside. "Time's a'wastin'."
"Gimme a new face," he growls back. "I can't do it with this fucker. He doesn't know how to talk to them."
"But Jason Lynch does, doesn't he?"
He glowers. "I gotta different style. It won't work with this--" He shrugs his lanky shoulders.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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