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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1065246-Totally-Mental-I-Must-Say
by Seuzz
Rated: GC · Book · Occult · #2183561
A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises.
#1065246 added March 1, 2024 at 1:01pm
Restrictions: None
Totally Mental, I Must Say
Previously: "Love in the Afternoon

"Okay, you obviously can't go out like this," you say when you surrender to the inevitable. "It just won't work."

Actually, you're not certain of that. Physically, the mask is perfect.

Chris Love stands before you in all his physical splendor. His fine-spun blonde hair shines like gold, and his skin is smooth and free of any blemishes. His nose, mouth, brow and chin are perfect replicas of the original.

But the eyes are tense with fear, and his limbs hang awkwardly off a hunched spine. He shivers and grimaces.

You don't understand what's gone wrong, and chew your thumbnail nervously as he sinks onto a bleacher and takes out his phone, ordering A-One—the doppelganger "Michelle Estrich"—to return to the school. When you put on Kim's mask, and Chelsea's, you got their memories and personality traits instantly. So what's wrong with this mask?

When A-One arrives, you get Michelle to order it to wait again in the girls' changing room while you pull Chris's mask off your partner; then you gently coax her awake so she can order A-One to disrobe and let you remove the latter's face. After that, you gingerly place Chris's mask onto Chris himself. Only after it has vanished into him, and his eyes have popped open, do you wish that Number Three were here, to help wrangle him if it's the real Chris who wakes up on you.

Fortunately, that's not necessary, for the Chris Love that wakes, though argumentative and shocked at finding himself naked, obeys Michelle's commands. He also answers those questions she puts to him, which she herself couldn't answer. (When's his birthday? Where does he live? Does he have any siblings?)

"Okay, this is really weird," you tell her. "The mask seems to be okay, it works just like the others. It's only when you put it on." You trail off, staring hard at Chris as though through sheer force of will you can get him to explain to you what the problem is.

"Look," you are finally forced to tell Michelle, "maybe this isn't going to work, maybe he's just going to have to be, you know, a regular doppelganger, and you'll have to stay as yourself. So just in case ... Well, let's fix him up. He's going to have to be A-Six until we figure things out."

* * * * *

So Michelle gives him the same programming as she gave the others, and the personality drains from A-Six's face, leaving him blank and pliant. "Go out to the Warehouse," she orders him when she's done, "or do whatever Chris was going to do. Remember to be Chris when you're with anyone except me."

"Whatever you say, boss." A-Six heads for the exit, and by the time he reaches it, he has fallen into a perfect imitation of his original's swagger.

"Listen," you tell Michelle, "let's bring him back out here tonight, after the parties are over. How long can you stay out?"

"I don't have a curfew on Fridays."

"Then get him out here, and you come too. We'll put you back in his mask, and you can go home as him."

She blanches. "I can't do that—!" she starts to protest.

"And then bright and early tomorrow you come back out here and we'll take another look. I don't know what the problem could be—" You give her a beady-eyed glance, as though it's all her fault. "But maybe you just need to relax. Maybe you need to sleep on it or something, I don't know."

She looks dubious but doesn't argue, and accompanies you out the door.

* * * * *

The party at Kian Benefield's house is full of juniors and sophomores, but you throw yourself into it anyway. Stacey is already there by the time you and Gordon arrive, and she squeals when she sees you—good to see the new doppelganger is acting exactly like her original—and introduces you around. You repay the favor by squeeing over her, and telling everyone how she's going to be an awesome addition to the squad.

"What a bunch of doorknobs," Gordon growls when he catches you in the kitchen during an in-between moment.

"Pookie," you retort, "why don't you go find a basketball player and compare jockstraps with him." He glowers and pushes off.

Not that he's wrong, exactly. They seem to be all student council types here: the girls dumpy and dowdy and earnest, and the guys sweaty in their dress shirts and pants. The only one who seems to be having as much fun as you is a kook named Kyler, who is underdressed in some mortifying short-shorts and a button-up shirt that's unbuttoned down to his navel. Between that, and his giggles and grins, it's not hard to peg him as gay. You're also pretty sure the host, Kian, is gay, but much more quietly so. He's as well-dressed and well-mannered as every other guy there, but there's something soft and shrinking about him.

Amid the blizzard of names you are introduced too—most of which go in one ear and out the other—the most notable is Zion Barber's. Yes, the junior-class president is there (as said before, the place is stuffed with student council types) and he's got Christine with him. They make an attractive couple, with her "rich white-girl" look nicely complemented by his African aspect. Or is it Arab? You can't quite decide. His skin is a milky brown and he has curly, poofy hair. But his face is a blend of ethnicities. You finally decide that his pug nose and deep-set eyes are sub-Saharan African, but they are filtered through a face that is more Egyptian in shape.

"He's Ethiopian or Somalian or Sudanese, or something," Jack tells you when you mention it to him. You're in the middle of a small scrum—Stacey and all her well-wishers, including a tall, good-looking kid with brown hair who she introduced as "my boyfriend, Jason." (That won't last long, you thought even as you gushed over him.) "He's on the football team," she added as she collapsed against him and started stroking his chest.

"Interesting," you tell Jack. "How come I don't see him around at more parties?"

"I don't know, maybe you just didn't notice him."

"I think I should pay more attention to him."

"What kind of attention?"

"I don't know. I'm just thinking out loud."

Jack holds your eye even as he tips back his beer.

But in fact you are only thinking aloud, just as you're thinking aloud when you ask him about your host, and he confirms that not only is Kian gay, he's going around with the half-naked, giggly kook. That too elicits an Interesting from you, though one that's no more meaningful than the one dropped earlier.

By a little after nine, the entire cheerleading squad has shown up—Cindy dragging in last, of course—and after poking him in the chest and muttering what you want of him, Number Seven quiets those in the living room so he can make a ringing speech welcoming Stacey to the cheerleading squad, and toasting her. There are rousing cheers and hoots and yells from everyone, and Stacey blushes extravagantly. She does seem to be popular, even with this crowd, and you bask in a hard glow of satisfaction at knowing that she is (though indirectly) one of your minions and seemingly so well-placed (along with Christine) to influence the junior class. Though you have had nothing stronger than a single wine cooler, you feel almost drunk with pleasure.

* * * * *

You don't stay long at the party, and you have Gordon take you home immediately after, to the surprise of your mom when she sees you coming through the door. In fact, she asks if you're going out again, but you tell her that it's been a long day, you've got a headache, it was a rotten and boring party, and you don't see the point in exhausting yourself when there will be other parties tomorrow night. She brings you some aspirin after you are up in your room, which you accept with a minimum of gratitude.

The real trouble, you decide after you are dressed down more comfortably in flannel pajamas, and have made yourself wretchedly bored with social media, is that you are worried about Michelle and her new doppelganger. You had texted her before heading home, telling her to just stay put and that you'll deal with it all tomorrow. But now you are gutted with anxiety.

Why the fuck did the new mask work perfectly okay when put onto Chris, but not work on Michelle? The mask itself worked perfectly at transforming her physically, so the trouble must be in the metal band. Did you get one of the runes wrong? That's the only thing you can figure.

Otherwise, the trouble would have to be with Michelle. It could be with her. She's got those moral qualms again: maybe she's putting up some kind of mental block that's preventing the memories and personality traits from seeping through? And if that's the trouble ... Well, then maybe she just needs time to adjust to the mask. Like, maybe she needs to fully relax, get a good night's sleep? You had suggested as much to her before cancelling the plan to meet with her. But it's not quite eleven, so there's still time to meet up with her and make that switch.

Next: "Beds and Foreign Bodies

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1065246-Totally-Mental-I-Must-Say