Chapter #12Possess James Black. by: Seuzz   You plop down next to James. "Hey, Black, like my eye? I picked it up special for you today."
He flashes a mirthless smile, then looks back down at his books. Mentally, you summon Dana out of her last class of the day.
"Yeah, I know, lousy joke." You brush back your hair and lock your hands behind your head. "How come you and me never talk?"
"Just unlucky, I guess," he murmurs.
You grunt, then lean forward and take his arm in yours. He flinches, but you don't let him pull away. "Come on, Black. Tell me about yourself. You know you've got the whole school buzzing."
The muscles in his cheek tighten, but he continues to try to read his books.
"You could have been one of the soccer stars, right alongside Kyle. Jenny could be your girlfriend, not his. She was sweet on you, you know, back in tenth grade. She thought Kyle was a jerk, but you were a cutie. What happened, James?"
His face is really pinched now, and he tries to get up, but Dana has come in, so you tug her over, and she stands behind James with her hands on his shoulders, pressing him down. "Oh my God, it's two sexy guys holding hands," you make her say. "Can a girl get in on this?"
"Hey Dana," you grin. "I can't get James to talk to me. But I'm not a beautiful girl, either. Sit, join us."
James is quickly pinned between your two bodies, breathing heavily and staring at the table. "I'm serious, James," you say. "I think I understand most of the people in this school, but I've never figured you out. You're a walking contradiction: a handsome, talented guy with no friends. How come?"
"Look, just stop it, okay?"
"Stop what? I don't know what I'm doing."
"Stop talking to me. Just leave me alone."
You look at him levelly, then look up at Dana. "I think this is a job for you."
You wake inside her mind and put her arm around James' shoulder. You then lean her in and start to kiss him. He pulls back, but you brace him on the other side with your own body. Every part of him is stiff and frozen, but his jaw goes slack and then his lips part under Dana's. And then you vomit all the liquid stuff out of her and into him.
You feel a chill and stiffness from James's body, and then he relaxes as you take him over. You turn his head so that you can look at yourself from his eyes. Then you close them and put his head on the desk, and drape your own arm over his shoulder.
Dana has fallen into a quasi-faint in the meantime, and when she comes out of it her eyes widen and she gasps when she sees James. You give her a grim look. "I think you better go," you mouth at her. With fear and worry on her face, she rises and leaves. You've done nothing to her memory, but you've not done anything that's grossly out of character for her, so you don't think you've anything to worry about. When James raises his head up again, his eyes are bleary with confusion and panic. You look deeply and worriedly at him.
"Jesus, man, are you okay?" He winces. "Seriously, I didn't know she was going to do that." He starts to pull away, to get up, but you push him down and stand up yourself. "No, I'll go. You stay and just try not to worry about it. I'll talk to you later." You clap him on the back and leave.
* * * * *
Christ, all that mystery and enigma for something you should have been able to figure out in five seconds. The guy is crippled with self-doubt and insecurity. Something happened to him—you run lightly through his mind—there it is, like a big old neon sign—an incident in middle school—naturally—left him feeling persecuted—and he's just turned everything into evidence of continuing persecution—guess you can add "paranoia" on top of the diagnosis. Shit. You weren't seriously hoping he was, like, an Islamic terrorist operating under deep cover, but this? This is just sad.
Still, you are inside of him, and it would be stupid to just give him up so quick. There are a number of girls who have a crush on him, and so you might use him as a puppet and seduce and abandon some of them. You wouldn't even have to act out the abandonment; you'd just let him spring back into control and he'd run as fast and as far from them as he could. That might be interesting to watch.
So you watch James' mind passively the rest of the afternoon, but shortly after six you put on some shorts and drop an old soccer ball in your backpack and bike over to his house without calling first. He's wary and a little alarmed when he sees you at the door, bouncing the ball lightly in your hand, with an inviting grin on your face. But you don't have to prod him into accepting: he's too polite to just turn you away, and plods reluctantly out along after you cock your head toward the elementary school across the street. Out in the back field you start by just kicking the ball around, warming up, before gradually ramping it up into a quasi-serious competition. He's rusty, but still better than you; you weren't shitting him when you said he could have been one of the stars on the team.
At no time have either of you spoken a word; but all the time you have been listening to his mind. He's trying to figure out why you're bugging him, and what Dana's behavior has to do with it. Eventually, when you're feeling nicely blown from the exercise, you flop to the ground and smile at him. He comes over slowly and flops down next to you.
"Okay, I'll start. I'm sorry about this afternoon," you say, the first words of the evening. "I didn't realize I was freaking you out."
"You weren't," he lies.
"Sure I was," you say. "I'm just so used to dropping into a seat and bullshitting with people. I'm bad at reading them, too, so I didn't pick up right away what an asshole you thought I was being. I mean, I see you and I just think 'Oh hey, there's James, I can be friends with him for the afternoon' and I drop next to you and start panting all over you. Hey, are you dog person or a cat person?"
"Huh? Oh. Dogs, I guess. More'n cats."
"I thought so. I'm a dog person too. And I think I got some golden retriever or something in me. So, you know ..." You lean forward and make a goofy, doggy face and pant at him with your tongue hanging. He smiles tightly, but he's not unfriendly.
"So you are, like, really shy?" you say.
He shrugs.
"I'm mean, you're not, like, anti-social. You got friends. I know you hang out with Gauss and Pitt. What do you talk about?"
"Homework. Astronomy. Science shows."
"Huh."
"Nothing you'd be interested in."
"Hey, I sold you short. Don't sell me short." He wilts a little. "Seriously, though, about what Dana did ..." He starts to hunch up. "Okay, back up. I don't want to freak you out again. Now, you know I'm not bullshitting you, right? Right?" You bump him so that he looks into your face, and you give him your friendliest and most serious and sincere expression, the one you use to tell girls that no, really, you want to have an honest and serious and totally for real date with them. "You trust me, right?"
He winces and shrugs and says "I guess."
You groan and fall on your back. Then you sit up and knock him onto his back and lean over and playfully punch at his chest and stomach. Then you lay on your side and prop your head up on your hand. You've got his attention now, and he does the same, facing you.
"Look, to start way back, James, I wasn't bullshitting you about Jenny and her liking you so much back in the tenth grade. I mean, you know she was constantly flirting with you back then."
He looks down and shrugs and picks at the grass.
"Yeah, you didn't miss it. Did you think she was just doing it as a joke?"
More shrugs, and he rakes the grass with his fingers.
"Jesus, you thought she was fucking with you, didn't you?"
He falls onto his back and stares at the sky.
"Shit. Okay, I'm sorry to be the one to tell you she wasn't just fucking with you, and I'm really sorry to tell you I think I'm the one who blew your big chance with her."
He looks over at you. You sigh and look away.
"Yeah, small world. Anyway, see, she came to me one day back then and asked if you knew she liked you. And I said of course you did, because only a moron would miss the signals she was making. And she said, 'No, I think I'm freaking him out.' And I said 'Shut up, you're being silly,' and she said, 'No, listen, here's what I want to do.'
"'I'm gonna invite him to a party with a bunch of other people,' she says, 'and then I'm going to call everyone else and cancel. And then when he shows up I'll tell him I had to push the starting time back, and then we'll just hang out being friendly for a couple of hours, and when he finally asks where everyone is, I'll tell him I cancelled it for everyone else because I just wanted it to be him and me, because I really like him and I want to go with him, and I wanted to show him how I felt, that I really was seriously sweet on him.' And I told her she was crazy and it would never work and she'd just humiliate herself, because obviously you knew how she felt and you just weren't interested in her."
It's a total wad of bullshit—except for the part about Jenny actually liking James, once upon a time—but it's the kind of story you see that James would actually believe. Because he's a moron.
He looks up at the darkening sky, his mind a whirl.
You let him digest it a minute, and then you ask, "Do you think Dana was fucking with you this afternoon?"
He looks over at you sharply.
"Oh. Well, um, yeah, she was, sorry to disappoint you, but— Oh my God, Black, do you understand anything about girls?" You suddenly laugh.
He looks confused, and a little resentful.
"Holy fucking Romeo! Have you been, like—" You sit up and drum your hands lightly on his chest in excitement. "Did Zach Vanderburg ever give you a wedgie in middle school?"
He grimaces. "Yeah."
You snort and blow with laughter. "Look, when Zach gives you a wedgie, it's because he hates you. But when a girl gives you a wedgie, it's because she likes you. You understand that much, right?"
He looks at you with confusion and a little bit of terror. "Okay," you continue. "There's a certain kind of girl, Jenny's one of them and so is Dana, who will do anything to get the guy she likes to look at her. She'll push him, she'll trip him, she'll call him names, she'll steal his pants, she'll dump pig shit all over him, she'll even try to get him arrested if she can, because she figures if she can just get him to look at her, then he'll like her and ask her out. Thing is, most of the guys they try this on don't know that. They're like you and me, they don't like it and they react badly."
"You and me?"
"Yeah. I'm just like you."
"But you're always, like, flirting with them."
"It's called pre-emption. Do unto them before they do unto me. Anyway, when Dana laid that kiss on you, she was saying 'Look at me, goddam it. Ask me out. Maybe I'll say yes and maybe I'll say no and maybe I'll just tell you to go fuck yourself, but pay attention to me, because I like it and I want the chance to tell you to get on or to get off.' And when she did that I knew what she was doing, and when you, well, passed out, I realized you didn't. I mean, I don't blame you. The first time a girl did that to me I pissed in my pants. Literally.
"But the point is, she went too far and I cleared her off you, and then ... Well, I realized that basically I'd been doing the same to you when I came in to the library. You know." You do the doggie pant again. "Be my friend, be my friend, be my friend. So, you know, I'm sorry for that. So, okay? Pax? Friends?" You hold up your hand.
He looks like you've left him out of breath. Which you have, because the faster you talk the less chance he'll actually catch what you're saying and question it and realize how full of crap you are. But the thought that you're sincere has penetrated, and he likes and is flattered by your attention. So he smiles and slaps your hand.
"Awesome," you say. "So, can I hang out with you this weekend?"
He blinks stupidly. "Huh? Oh. Well, sure, I guess. What do you want to do?"
"Well, I'm s'pposed to meet Derek Linwood for some one-on-one ball on Saturday. Come play with me and we'll take him on together."
"I'm rotten at basketball."
"So am I. So is he, frankly, even though he's on the team. That tells you how bad I am. After that, him and me can take you on at soccer." You laugh. "Can you imagine Derek with those grasshopper legs and a soccer ball?"
"And what will we team against you at?"
"I'm rotten at everything. I always have to have a partner."
Afterwards, you do flatter yourself that you pulled it all off remarkably well. James' mind is a blur of confusion, but you've broken up a lot of his certainties, and done so without once poking at his thoughts directly. A couple of more sessions like that, and he won't find it out of character when he finds himself asking a girl out and getting naked with her and then fucking up royally to his great humiliation. Or maybe—depending on how things go—you'd find him useful as a backup heartbreaker—another body to use when screwing up the girls. Either way, you just need to get his confidence a little higher ...
* * * * *
Usually, Saturdays are the days you fill with as much distraction as possible, so that you can stay away from your mom, but now she's been avoiding you. As you bike back from the hills early that morning, though, you rifle through her mind and are pleased to find that she is adapting to the new dispensation. She's been off the alcohol for awhile now, which undoubtedly is helping her ability to think, even though it also makes the thoughts more painful. She seems to have given up on all plans of escape or of fighting back, and seems grimly resigned instead to trying to live with you. You pump the pedals harder when you see that she is actually going to fix breakfast for you—without using rat poison as one of the ingredients—and you time it so that you enter the house just as the plates are ready.
She looks embarrassed and says nothing as you come in: she finds even your warmest smiles unsettling, and she flinches when you put your arms tenderly around her, and rub a tear-streaked face on her neck. In fact, your reaction is completely feigned; you know her gesture is only made out of fear, and almost nothing she could do would move you anyway. But you figure a little positive reinforcement can't hurt.
You don't eat any of it, though—she's a rotten cook—and instead race off to a Donut Hut where a girl from school slips you two free donuts every Saturday. Then it's to the park to wait for Derek and James. The latter proves as bad with the basketball as he had promised, and even between the both of you Linwood wins handily. James is embarrassed, but you help him laugh it off, and then he manages to outplay both you and Derek with the soccer ball. After that, Derek leaves and but you hang on to James, letting him buy you lunch at McDonalds.
You glancingly bring up the subject of girls again; he is ready, now that he trusts you, to explore the subject a little more, and with infinite sympathy and interest you draw out the story of that traumatic experience in middle school. Your face is a mask of exquisite empathy when he is done.
"God. Yeah, if that happened to me I'd jump like a bug on a hot plate every time a girl smiled at me."
"Is that what I do?"
You give him a twisted but sympathetic smile and nod. He screws up his face in self-disgust, so you pound his hand with your fist. "You don't want me fixing you up with anyone, do you? No, I didn't think so. Well, shit." You drum your fingers. "You know, actually, something like that did happen to me, too. I got trapped in a stairwell when I was in eighth grade. They were waiting for me. I guess I was cute back then."
"What happened?"
"Oh, the bell rang and I had to use the stairwell to get to my next class, and this gang, I mean it was like the Bloods, but they were girls in their nice skirts and hair up in scrunchies and with those blinding teeth, they were waiting for me, and they wouldn't let me pass until I kissed this one girl. Like a toll. And they backed everyone else up behind me, and those guys all yelled at me, not them, telling me to kiss her."
"What did you do?"
"I shrank up until I was about that big and ran between their legs." He laughs. "Seriously, I don't really remember. It was traumatic. I think I must've, just, mashed my mouth against hers, and then she was embarrassed and let me through."
"Maybe if they hadn't kept it up with me for a couple of days ..."
"Well, I dunno, it's different with everyone. I think it probably happens to everyone, one way or another. It's not like you're unique, you just took it extra hard. I mean, now that I think about it, I think I musta got screwed up somehow too. Remember how I said 'Do unto them before they do unto me'? That was a joke, but maybe not really." You look thoughtful. "I get out in front of them these days."
"But where do you get the confidence? I can't imagine doing like you do."
"Ah, they're just like bears. They're more scared of you than you are of them."
"I'm not sure that's possible."
"Sure it is. You got more people sighing after you than you know. For every Dana there's five or six who don't dare express themselves, who just gulp when they see you in the hall and pretend not to look at you."
His frowns deeply and his head begins to sag.
"Ahhhh!" you mock scream. "Okay, we're looking at it backwards. The point isn't that they're chasing you. There are lots of things out there chasing us, and a lot of them, like wolves, we don't want to catch us. So let's think about you catching them instead. How many times a day do you masturbate?"
Naturally, he's shocked. "What?"
"Masturbate. How many times a day do go off by yourself, open your pants, take out your cock, and auto-stimulate yourself until you cum?"
His mouth just hangs open.
"Look we need some kind of number to start with, some index to indicate how badly you want a girl."
"Can't ... Can't we start by ... thinking about ... just ... dating?"
"Okay, fine. Who do you think about when you masturbate?"
"Adam!"
"Alright, alright. We'll do it this way. You're holding a girl. She's in your lap. Visualize, Black!"
He gulps and closes his eyes.
"Okay. Your eyes are closed, but there's a girl in your lap. You have your hands around her hips. She's turned sideways, so she's not facing you. But you can smell her hair in your face. Now, she turns her head, and her hair disappears. Your eyes are still closed, so you can't see her face. But you feel her breath. It's sweet, with maybe just a little bit of peppermint in it. She's breathing softly. Then you feel her nose close to yours. Her lips are brushing against yours. She doesn't kiss you, though, and you don't kiss her. She just rubs her lips against yours, and her nose against yours, like Eskimos do. She puts her cheek against yours, and her arms around your shoulders. Her hair is now in your face again. She holds you. She holds you. She holds you. She doesn't want to let you go. She would sleep like this if she could, but she's too excited at being this close to you. You feel something wet on your cheek, and you realize she is crying softly, because this is what she wants, this is where she wants to be, and she is ... so ... happy! Then she pulls back.
"Now open your eyes. Who is she?"
"Amy Rhodes."
You hold out your hands. "There you go."
"I could have told you 'Amy Rhodes,' though, without all the porn."
"But it was more fun that way, wasn't it?"
"Okay, so what does all that prove?"
"Well, it proves you've got a libido. Score one for our side. Now use it. Ask her out."
"I can't do that!"
"Why not? Remember, she's more scared of you—"
"—than I am of— Yeah. I don't believe you, but ..."
"But what?"
"My voice will crack," he squeaks.
You slap the table. "James, you didn't tell me you have a sense of humor! Of course, now that we know that, you really don't have an excuse to hold back."
"But I still don't know how to act."
"Don't act. Just think. That's all you have to do. Look at her, think about what you want, and then it almost doesn't matter what words you use. She'll pick it up. As long as you're speaking English and get the words in the right order. And if you're thinking hard enough, you'll say exactly what you need to say, without realizing it."
He looks skeptical.
"Here. What am I thinking now?" You give him a neutral expression.
"That I'm a fucking moron."
"Exactly! See how it works?"
"Oh, Adam ..."
"Oh, James ..." You sigh. "Yesterday, when I took you over to the school, how did I ask you? What words did I use?"
"I don't remember."
"Because I didn't use any. I just went like this." You do an exaggerated pantomime of bouncing the ball and jerking your head toward the school and looking inviting. "You followed and we played for, like, thirty minutes before one of us said anything."
"Oh God, you're right."
"Of course I am. I do it all the time. I mean, I use words too, but it's the thought that counts. To coin a phrase."
He sighs heavily and stares into space.
"Right now, for instance, you're thinking that it can't possibly be this easy and that you would find a way to screw it up." He looks startled, but you ignore him. "I'm going to give you an exercise, okay? Go buy me a chocolate shake. The clerk was really cute, right? Look at her, and order the shake, but the whole time think 'God, you're sexy and I want to go out with you'. But don't act it. Just order the shake, like, perfectly normally."
He gets up slowly and shuffles to the counter, giving you a look over his shoulder as he does so; you gesture him to continue. As he turns you slip into control of him. The counter clerk—who is cute—smiles at him. "Yeah, I'd a small chocolate shake," you say through his body, holding her eye and smiling back. You're using one of the expressions you like to tease Ms. Henderson with.
"That'll be two thirty-three."
"I'm sorry?" You're still holding her eye and smiling.
"It'll be two thirty-three." She gets a little pink.
"I'm sorry, did I say 'small'? I meant 'large'. I'm so sorry."
"That's okay. Alright, two seventy-six."
"Do you have a penny?" You lift the side of his mouth into a slightly lop-sided grin.
"Yeah, I can cover you."
"Thanks. I ... Wait, I do have seventy-six cents."
"That's okay, I got you."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." She's grinning very widely herself now.
You smile and blink as though coming out of a trance and move his body to the side. When she brings the shake, her fingertips lightly touch James' own.
You release him as he comes back to the table. "So I see you got the shake. How did the rest of it go?"
He looks at you with a glassy-eyed stare and a loopy grin. "It was an out-of-body experience."
You choke on your laugh and start coughing. "Well, it's never happened that way to me, but maybe it's different with you."
You gobble down the shake greedily. Yeah, the test with the clerk was perfect. And now that you've got him believing the "thinking" bullshit, it'll be easy to slide into the driver's seat of his body on his real date. But whether you play James' first-ever date for farce or something else is something you'll decide later, when the time comes.
That possibility is still a few days off. You're not inclined to possess anyone new, but there are still people you can fuck with while things ripen with James. There's Patrick, for instance. Or David's old friends: Caleb and Kevin and Matt Isaacs and even Dana. | Members who added to this interactive
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