Chapter #16Chelsea Strikes Back by: Seuzz   "You couldn't get a ride from any of your friends?" Lucy fumes; her knuckles whiten around the steering wheel. Cindy's sister never deals well with traffic, but this morning— She leans on the horn, long and hard. "Move it, grandpa!" she yells at the car in front of her. "Pretend there's a Social Security check at wherever it is you're trying to get to!"
Cindy-you cringes into the passenger seat of Lucy's SUV; elsewhere, the Garner-yous tease each other about upcoming classes, and Lin-you grooves serenely to some light pop. "It was a last-minute thing, okay? I couldn't just call them up and ask them for a ride."
"But you could ask me," Lucy snarls.
"You were already at the house." For like the first time in weeks. Lucy shares a house with a bunch of other university students, and only spends the night at the old homestead when she's on the outs with them.
"The school's on the freaking other side of town from the college, Cindy. I've got a nine-thirty class and all this traffic— Move, God damn you!" she screams at a pick-up truck that hasn't noticed the green light.
I should slip her a worm while I've got a chance, you think. She's gorgeous—Lucy was a high school cheerleader, and captain of the squad, two years ago—getting good grades, lives in a houseful of other blonde, busty, college-age cheerleader types. A house of girls like that would make the Westside cheerleader squad look like an old folks' home.
Also, if you were running her body, you wouldn't shout and scream and bang the console as much.
Oh, who the fuck are you kidding? Being these girls (and Marc) not only in body but in personality is most of the fun.
"It's not my fault," Cindy-you whines. "Seth texted me last minute, told me he couldn't pick me up."
"Well, there's your problem," Lucy sneers. "Seth."
She's not a fan of Cindy's boyfriend.
* * * * *
At the moment you're not a fan either.
You spent a very enjoyable evening with the Garners, hanging out in their minivan parked in a dark spot behind the municipal library. While one of your girls stood lookout, the other girl and her brother shared Cindy as a chew toy between them. After rubbing your bodies raw for a few hours, you sent Cindy tottering home. You were already getting a few shreds of memories even before dragging her unconscious and devouring her mind, and after sucking her down and mixing her juices with your own you discovered that she should have been hectoring her boyfriend—a basketball player—with needy texts demanding to know why he hasn't texted her with an update on the undying passion he has for her.
Especially as he wasn't sending her any texts.
So your relief that you didn't fuck anything up by keeping Cindy out late last night mixes with chagrin at the way Seth seemed to have been standing her up last night.
Then, after getting out of a luxurious shower, Cindy-you found a text from Seth saying he couldn't pick her up for school.
"Oh God, what's Seth done now?" Lin-you asks as she falls in beside Cindy-you as you march her stiffly across the front quad toward the gym, where the boys' varsity basketball squad will be having its pre-class practice.
"He didn't pick me up."
"He forgot?" Lin-you gasps.
"No, he just texted about two minutes ago to tell me he couldn't pick me up. Lucy had to drive me in."
"Oh, Cindy, I'm so sorry." Lin-you gives Cindy-you a quick hug.
"Not as sorry as Seth's going to be. I'm going to have my friends to help me, right?"
"P'tch. You have to ask. So—" Lin-you leans in close and lowers her voice. "Are we going to handle it, like—" She mimes pulling a long strand of bubblegum from her mouth.
"Eventually. It's all going to be like that, eventually, you know." Cindy-you yanks open the gym door. "I think we'll wait until we're, like, last night. It's too bad you couldn't have been there."
"I had a bunch of homework. But I felt the aftershocks."
Your girls exchange a quick, cold smile.
The court, to your surprise, is empty, even though it's twenty minutes to the bell: the team usually practices until just a few minutes before the bell, with only time for the quickest of showers. You pace with frowns and folded arms, pulling on Marc's memories to see if there might be something up in the academic department.
A few minutes pass, and ballplayers start swaggering out of the changing room. A few glance at your girls, but the really appreciative ones are for Lin—not because she improves on the blonde, peach-complexioned Cindy, but because they wouldn't want it getting back to Seth that they smiled too strongly at his girlfriend.
But Seth isn't with them, and when Gordon Black and Steve Patterson—the two jock-assholes who run the basketball squad between them—don't come out you begin to feel a real sense of curiosity. Was there some kind of team business this morning? But if so, why didn't Seth let you know that's why he couldn't pick Cindy up?
The other cheerleaders have begun to trickle in—and you send Lin-you inside with your other puppets—before a creak on some nearby stairs tells you that someone is finally coming out. They're coming down from the loft, too, the storage room upstairs where only the top jocks get to hang out. It's Gordon and Steve's private domain. But Seth is with them when he steps out onto the court. Yet he doesn't look happy, and he flinches and drops his eyes when he sees you. A chill runs through you as Gordon and Steve brush roughly past you. But Seth hangs back.
"We have to talk," he mutters.
* * * * *
Cindy-you skips cheerleader practice. She skips every class, and spends the day weeping into the shoulders of her friends: Eva-you and Jessica-you and Lin-you (and Marc-you gives her a consoling hug as well). Also Jenny Ashton and Yumi Saito and Catherine Muskov and Kristy Suffolk and many others. "He didn't want to do it," Cindy-you wails to each of them. "I could tell, just by the way he said it. He didn't want to break up with me! But—"
But he did. Suddenly and without warning. With a pale face and eyes red from suppressed tears. His fingers curled and clenched as he clearly fought the urge to pull Cindy-you to his chest, to stroke her hair and her back and to take back his decision to break up with her.
But Gordon and Steve had been adamant: He couldn't date Cindy and give his best to the squad, they had told him. So if he wanted their support, he would have to break up with her.
And behind Gordon and Steve, you could be sure (and all of Cindy-you's friends, including those who still had their own independent minds on the matter), was Chelsea Cooper.
It was an obvious stroke in retrospect, though a surprise in timing. Kendra-you, despite being close to Chelsea, had heard no rumor of it. But it must have been her, putting the screws to her own boyfriend—Gordon Black—to arrange for Seth to break up with Cindy.
But you're not surprised when, immediately after lunch, Chelsea announces she has to decamp to the nearest restroom. Her tone implies that Kendra-you and Gloria are expected to attend.
Kendra-you gets to the restroom first, and is just emerging from a toilet stall when Chelsea and Gloria enter. You all take up station at the sinks and mirrors, and break out the makeup cases.
"So Cindy will be quitting the squad too, do you think?" Kendra-you says. (Outside, on the quad, Cindy-you is shrieking at Jenny Ashton about what a lot of fucking bitches Chelsea and Kendra and Gloria are.)
"Tch, no way she can keep her head on right after something like that," Chelsea says as she picks out a shade of lipstick. "Seth is such a bastard. I mean, it sucks that he broke up with her, but she's clearly better off without him, if he was going to be such a bastard about it." She leans into the mirror to touch her lipstick to her upper lip. "She's going to be a mess."
"Maybe they'll get back together," Gloria suggests.
"They better not," Chelsea replies. "But I'm sure Seth'll find someone to entertain himself with."
(Translation: "Chelsea, can pick up Seth on the rebound?" "Girl, you better. I want him tied down so Cindy can't pick him up again.)
Not be outdone, Kendra-you says, "Maybe she'll start going out with Steve."
"God, I hope Cindy's smarter than that. Steve's such a horndog, though." Chelsea gives you a sidelong glance. "But I thought you and him were, you know—"
"Off and on."
(Translation: "Chelsea, should I keep Steve distracted so Cindy doesn't try picking up hiim?" "Girl, keep him nailed to that old gym mat up in the loft, where he likes to fuck the girls he picks up.")
Gloria makes a face at herself in the mirror, then retires into one of the stalls. (Which you were counting on; she's OCD or something about using the toilet right after lunch.) It doesn't matter that she picks the one nearest the wall, for they are all three stocked. From inside a toilet bowl, you watch as panties are peeled off a shapely pair of buttocks; the light is blotted out as they settle over you; hungrily you stretch out to touch them.
"So we're going to have to have tryouts or something," Chelsea observes, "with two vacant spots. I suppose it's too much to hope that these things will come in threes." She prattles on in this way for bit, then calls out, "Gloria, did you fall in there?"
"I'm fine," Gloria-you replies, and steadies herself against the side of the stall with one hand. You are close to swooning as her senses come rushing in on you. When feeling steadier, you stand her up, wipe her down, and hike up panties and skirts. On exiting the stall, you catch Kendra-you's glance: Bite me hard, you bitch, Gloria-you mouths at her. Kendra-you smirks back.
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