Chapter #7The Crossroads of Identity by: Seuzz   You stir at the chime of the alarm, and roll over as you reach out to grasp your cell phone. You blink, smack your mouth, and unfurl your limbs in a hard stretch. You ache pleasantly all over as you clamber to your feet, still cradling your original body in your hands. You dump it back in the bin, and cover the bin with books and papers. You're glad that Marc has a good head and didn't panic over his confusion about the goop he took from his sisters. Still more are you glad he didn't tell anyone about you.
You completely absorbed Marc's memories and personality during the night, so that he and his brain feel like part of yourself; only the fact that a detached part of you is sitting inside a plastic bin keeps you from feeling like you are and always were Marc Garner.
So you are not at all shy about scrubbing yourself all over under the shower water, including under and around your cock and balls. It's a strong, healthy body you've possessed, and a lot more impressive than the one you lost, with hard muscles in the back and chest and limbs, and a ridge of muscles over the stomach. It's the body of an athlete who concentrates on soccer not because it's the only thing he's good at but because it is one of several athletic activities that he is the best at, and you give yourself an admiring once-over in the mirror when you're drying off. He's got a handsome face, too: regular features with a small nose, wide smile, and large, dark eyes under dark brows. Girls have flirted with Marc since he was in elementary school, but he's always been a one-girl-at-a-time guy. Not like—
Well, Marcos Rivera is his best friend, so Marc tries not to judge him too harshly for the way he juggles three girls at once.
"Put a towel on," Jessica growls as you pass her on your way back to the bedroom.
"I got my boxers on, what're you bitching about?"
"You're still more naked than not." She dives into the bathroom and slams the door shut.
In the bedroom you let yourself air-dry a little more as you crouch over Marc's phone to check social media, wondering if the sharp-tongued Kelsey Blankenship or any of her friends have anything to say about his skipping last night's clambake. (That's the private term for Kelsey's exclusive weekend gatherings, where copious amounts of weed are smoked by the smartest and richest elements of Westside High.) Instead, he hung out with his girlfriend, Hannah Westlake. She recently moved over to Westside from the other high school, and she and Kelsey do not seem fated for friendship. But as you scroll through Snapchat and Instagram and Tumblr and x2z, you see nothing that looks like a veiled attack on him and his—
No. On you and your girlfriend. Your lips twitch into a grin, and your cock stiffens.
Now thoroughly dry, you dress for church. Dark wool socks, itchy dress pants, starched dress shirt, tightly cinched tie and constricting sports coat, ankle-pinching shoes. It's a good thing that Marc likes dressing up—he looks good in them—or else the wardrobe would be intolerable. You turn on the camera in the laptop and use it as a mirror as you rub some gel into your hair to make the spikes stick up better. You give yourself a cheeky grin—Marc Garner, Eighth Wonder of the World!—before shutting it off.
"You got the Sunday School lesson for the kids?" your mom asks you downstairs as you munch on a slice of toast. You pat your jacket pocket. "Don't read it to them, honey," she reminds you.
"And don't drop any f-bombs on them," Eva pipes up from the dining room table. You wait until your mom's back is turned before sliding a middle finger up and down the side of your nose at your sister.
* * * * *
"That was really good, Marc," Mrs. McGreevey tells you as the kids run from the Sunday School classroom after you've completed the lesson. "They hardly fidgeted."
"Yeah, well, I think Zachary wanted to throw a booger at me," you tell her.
"You should have told him not to pick his nose." She twinkles at you. "Are you going into broadcast journalism?"
"No. I mean, I haven't thought about it. Uh, why?"
"I just think you'd be a natural as a TV presenter." She starts pulling the paper cut-out figures of Jesus and the disciples from the felt board where you'd arranged them for the lesson.
"Well, I dunno. Excuse me," you add before she can hold you up any longer, and dart for the door to the classroom. "Hey, Gregory!" you shout at the tall figure loping toward the sanctuary.
Shawn Gregory—Eastman High basketball player, and the guy that Dana Pak seems to have her eye on—turns. "Garner," he calls back.
It was a stroke of luck, you suppose, possessing a guy who has such convenient access to a guy with convenient access to Dana and your old friends at Eastman. You join him at a stride. "Anything going on this afternoon in your part of town?"
"You looking for a game or something?"
"I think Hannah's missing Eastman, thought maybe we could hang out with some of you guys this afternoon."
"I'm always up for something with you and Hannah. Want me to text you when I know something?"
"Sure. But only if it's something simple. No tournament play or sh— Stuff like that."
Gregory grins. "Sure thing, shweetheart," he lisps.
Despite your approach to Shawn, though, you're actually not sure you want to meet up with him. You're not sure at all what you want to do. You told yourself yesterday that you'd decide on the next thing after you were in possession of a body, but now that you have one, you find the same paralyzing range of options opening back up to you: Adapt and settle into a new life? Make contact with your family and old friends? Try to return to normal? Probe at the military installation to find out more about what happened to you?
As you settle into a back pew of the sanctuary for the main service—like most of the teens at church, you sit separately from the rest of your family—you let your mind drift as you puzzle over the options. The ease with which you took over Marc Garner suggests you can take over someone else with equal ease, and as Marc isn't any close to any centers of action relevant to you, maybe you ought to find a better home before deciding what else to do.
But your situation is further complicated by what you found out last night: that your body can be divided into parts while still maintaining connections with itself. Indeed, as you listen to the choir and the preacher you are also sitting in the box in Marc's bedroom listening to the gentle whoosh of the air conditioner. One advantage of your current position is that you can experiment further with yourself to find out what you're capable of.
For instance, what would happen if you put a piece of yourself inside another person while still keeping part of yourself inside Marc?
* * * * *
You have a chance to do just that (maybe) later that afternoon when you get together with Marc's girlfriend at the municipal library.
"Hannah, no. No! Fuck!" you gasp as she pushes you into a corner and rubs her hands up and over your crotch. Your cock swings up like a rocket on a gantry, and your ankles weaken and your knees buckle. "Hannah!" you quietly shriek as she sinks to her knees and puts her face to your zipper.
You are in the darkest, dustiest corner of the library, but still you are exposed, and if a librarian—if anyone!—caught you back here with your girlfriend on her knees you wouldn't just lose your library privileges, you might even be arrested. But Hannah likes to play it dangerous.
"Hannah." You drop to your own knees (and grimace as you pinch your prick) and pull Hannah's face up to yours. "If you want to do something—"
"I do," she murmurs through lips pursed into a mischievous grin. "Come on." She grabs your hand and pushes it up inside her sweater. "Touch me there."
"Hannah!"
You compromise by pulling her outside to the minivan, which you move to a far corner of the parking lot. There, behind tinted windows, you pull your jeans down below your knees and let her go down on you. Afterward, you half roll atop her and put your fingers down her panties and up her pussy while chewing half her face off.
So it wouldn't be hard to introduce a piece of yourself into Hannah Westrick.
But taking control of Hannah (if you could do such a thing) wouldn't get you anywhere. Driving by Shawn Gregory's and dropping off a piece of yourself (to take him in the night, as you took Marc) would.
But if you want to experiment in a safe environment, Marc has two sisters in the next bedroom.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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