Chapter #61The Guy Who Would be Queen of the School by: Seuzz   "You seen enough?" Caleb asks as the three sophomore boys—Bhodi Weaver, Justin Orr, and their new best friend, Andrew Webb—saunter off.
"Sure. Let's go get a shake or something."
* * * * *
You settle in at a nearby McDonalds. "So tell me some more about what's going on at the school," you ask Caleb. "About the cheerleaders and all that."
"I knew you weren't paying attention back there," he retorts.
"Was so. Cindy's trying to get rid of Chelsea."
"So what more do you wanna know?" Caleb sucks down some of his shake.
"Pft. She's always trying to get rid of Chelsea. But you said she had a pretty good chance this time."
"So I hear, on account of Chelsea and Gordon busting up."
"The fuck has that got to do with the cheerleader squad?"
"You'd have to ask Jenny or Yumi. They were the ones tried explaining it to me. You want I should call 'em out here?" He takes out his cell phone.
"No! I'm already trying to dodge Kim and Kelsey and that Sean gink, I don't need—"
"Well then all I can tell you is it has to do with the fuck room and who gets into it. Drama about that."
"Yeah?"
Caleb shrugs. "What I glean is it's a prestige thing. Patterson kicked Gordon out after he got Gordon fired from the squad, and he kicked Chelsea out too. You know what a big deal it is to be able to hang out up there."
"Mm-hmm." The infamous "fuck room" is a loft above the gym, where a very exclusive membership gets to hang out during and outside of school hours. Everyone assumes that lots and lots of hot, messy sex gets had in it.
"So it's a huge knock against Chelsea and makes her look weak, so maybe some of the other girls on the squad are finally ready to help Cindy try to knock her off her perch." Caleb shrugs again. "Oh, and Patterson is dangling Gordon and Chelsea's old fuck room keys in front everyone. You know, be his favorite and you get one. Everyone's betting that Seth and Cindy will score a set regardless, 'cos Javits's real talent on court is sucking up to Patterson."
Actually, from all you've heard and seen, Seth Javits has speed, hustle, shooting accuracy, and sheer meanness in his talent stack. But sucking up to Patterson would be a valuable talent too, you suppose.
"So Cindy's gonna be cheerleader captain," you muse. "Her sister was too, back in the day, wasn't she?"
"Uh huh. Did I tell you she once talked to me?"
"No! Lucy? What's the story?"
"She said, 'Take your freaking stink someplace else.'" Caleb makes a face and slides his straw in and out of his shake. "I forget the circumstances."
The Vredenburg sisters. Lucy and Cindy. Not quite peas in a pod, but close, both being tall and willowy with long, straight, platinum hair. To this basic pattern Cindy adds big green eyes under dark brows; pie-pan cheekbones; and a pink, bow-like mouth. There is, admittedly, something mask-like about her face—it is so perfectly free of lines or blemishes—but maybe that's why you feel yourself drifting faster toward a decision that you should place a mask atop it—and then put that mask on yourself.
"So Cindy's gonna be head cheerleader," you muse again, and pull down some of your shake. Not a boast that a lot of guys would be able to make.
* * * * *
Saturday afternoon. You've changed motels so as to avoid people you know. Meanwhile, Andy Jensen and Justin Orr have been by to offer their gratitudes and respects (and to show off their new bodies, you suspect). Webb you now clearly remember from the time you ran into him while impersonating Bhodi: a pink-skinned bully with a tendency to smirk down his nose. Clayborne, meanwhile, turns out to be a strapping hulk-in-training. His biceps already fill out the sleeves of his t-shirt, and his athletic shorts disclose thick calves and bulging thighs. He's better-looking than Webb, too, even if he's got a few zits popping out of the top of his cheek. (Justin somehow can't escape having zits!) His features are regular, and his brown, wiry hair twists into stiff waves over the top of his ears and neck. His gruff baritone also contrasts favorably with Webb's squeaky tenor; and where Webb's snub nose makes him look childish and insolent, Clayborne's upturned snub and large, serious eyes gives his face a vulnerability that contrasts well with his hardened limbs.
And tonight he's planning to use his muscles, his hair, his snub nose, his decent grades, and his reputation as a shy and thoughtful romancer to snag Kaylee Mercier's body for Grant, and/or Leslie Osbourne's body for Mrs. Matthias. As he swaggers out the door with Webb trailing behind, you have to admit that he probably won't have a hard time of it.
You're glad they're gone, though. You have your own appointment to keep, and she'll be meeting you here.
Yes, Cindy Vredenburg is going to be meeting up with you in Room 22 of the Layzee-Nites Motel. Even now you get lightheaded when you think about it.
It's on account of the fight that "you" had with her boyfriend. It seemed to you a plausible reason for you and her to meet to talk, and Caleb (though skeptical) texted her a message on your behalf. You were proposing to meet her at the library or some other neutral ground where (maybe) you could maneuver her into a hushed corner to make the switch. Imagine your shock when she asked if you were still staying at the Donna Courts, and indicated she'd be willing to meet you there. She was still willing, even after you said you'd moved over to the LN.
As two o'clock approaches, you hunch on the edge of the bed and wipe your palms on your knees. Caleb, standing in the corner by the door, gives you a look.
Naturally, she's late, but at two-twenty there's a knock on the door. Caleb opens it.
And there she is: Cindy Vredenburg, come to call on you in a sketchy motel room. You stagger to your creaking knees as Caleb lets her in with a smile that to your eye looks about as genuine as the Mona Lisa executed in crayon. "Hey, Cindy," you croak. "Thanks for, uh, coming out." You have to drop your eyes from her face.
"Hey," she says. "I wanted to see that you're doing okay."
You look up again, to see her eyes filled with a grave concern; the corners of her mouth pull down in a slight frown.
What? She's worried about you? You? Cindy has never been more than polite to you on the few occasions (a number you could count on the fingers of a clumsy, one-handed shop teacher) that she's ever spoken to you.
"Oh, I'm fine," you reply. Behind her, Caleb lifts a hand that cradles a brain band; you frown at him; he stands down, but frowns back at you.
"Because I saw that bruise Seth gave you," Cindy continues, then breaks off. Puzzlement shows in her eyes.
"Oh yeah, that." You touch your cheek. Is it the right one or the left one that's supposed to be damaged? "I got some stuff to put on it, helped out."
Her eyebrows go up. "Well, I wish you'd tell me what it was. Seth looks like he got hit by a train."
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"Don't be. I told him it was his own fault. Are you still going to try out for the team?"
"Well, sure. I'm not gonna let ..." You trail off as Cindy's eyes narrow. "It's what I want."
"Okay," she says, then hesitates.
"But you know, Will," she continues, "the guys on the basketball squad are ... Well, they're a tough bunch."
You feel yourself flush. It's one thing to know that you're probably too much of a pussy to survive—let alone thrive—under the face-stomping bullying you hear gets practiced on the basketball squad. It's another to have someone else tell you so to your face.
"Look," Cindy sighs, "maybe you and Seth just got off on the wrong foot." She takes out her phone. "I'll call him, and maybe we can all—"
You catch Caleb's eye. He steps up behind her and claps his palm to her forehead.
* * * * *
"Okay, there's her brain," Caleb says as he lifts the band. "Not the sexiest part of her by a long shot, but you'll want it." He grins as he lays a blank mask on Cindy, who is now arranged on the motel bed. "Now for the real fun."
"Dude, what are you doing?" you shriek as he unbuttons her skinny jeans and starts to pull them off.
"Getting her out of her clothes," he retorts. "We can't put the other mask on her while she's dressed like this!"
He's got a point, and you relent. To hide Cindy, you have constructed a hybrid "Dane Matthias": the old mask you had of him, with a brain-band copying your own memory and personality inserted into it, all covered over with golem paint. The resulting golem will look like Dane, but will have to pretend to be him without having his memories. Still, it should be able to pass in public as Dane Matthias, and at least as well as Gordon is passing as you and Dane himself is passing as Gordon.
Cindy's form, once disclosed, is magnificent. There isn't a bit of fat on her slim frame; her hips and legs are narrow but strong; her breasts are large and ripe. Caleb moans. "Can I be Seth? Please?"
"She's breaking up with him."
"She is?"
"Of course she is. Do you think I want his hairy cock anywhere near me?"
And as though speaking his name has summoned the devil, you're interrupted by a hoarse shout from the parking lot. "Cindy! Cindy, I know you're here!"
Caleb jumps over to the window and peeps out the curtain. "Jesus! It's Javits! And he looks like he wants to freaking murder someone!"
"Fuck!" You look at Cindy. "If he finds us here like this—"   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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