This choice: That Eastman kid with the billionaire parents • Go Back...Chapter #34The Billionaire by: Seuzz   "Tell me about this guy who's a billionaire," you say.
Your boyfriend grins at you. "I thought that'd get your attention. He goes to Eastman, plays basketball for them, and his dad owns a technology company. I'm not sure what they do, but they're worth billions."
"Sounds like you know all about them."
"I pay attention to stuff like that," Chen says with a shrug. "He's got a girlfriend, too." He pulls you close. "Maybe if I get you this billionaire, you can get me the girlfriend? Or a different girlfriend for him, for me?"
You wonder why, if this guy is such a catch, Chelsea didn't grab him for herself. He sounds a hell of a lot better than Gary Chen. Is there anything wrong with him?
You approach the issue indirectly: "Do you have any pictures of him? Or links to where I can read about him?"
Chen takes out his phone, even as with his other hand he shoves a fat blob of fried rice into his mouth. But after a few seconds of scrolling, he shakes his head.
"I'll send you some links later," he says. "I don't remember where they are off hand. But his name's Jonathan Straussler if you want to look him up yourself."
"How can we get a mask onto him, if he goes to Eastman?"
"Pft. Easy. I told you, he plays basketball. I'll have Gordon invite him out, we'll get him up in the loft, and between me and him it'll be a fucking piece of cake. We could do that now, probably, 'cept I gotta send Gary to work."
"And I don't have blank mask ready."
"So get one ready. If you get it done tonight, we'll get him for you tomorrow. And then we'll have Friday to celebrate in style," he adds with a wolfish chortle.
* * * * *
So you return to the elementary school after parting for the evening, where you make a blank mask and band. You redouble your efforts that night—after finishing your homework—after Chelsea sends you those links she promised.
Some of the links lead to boring business-news articles about Proteus Technologies, which is the company that the Strausslers own. About the only thing you learn from it is that Curt Straussler—that's Jonathan's father—is probably worth between one-and-a-half and two billion dollars. So that confirms you're not dealing with anything so measly as a "millionaire."
It's with a sense of relief, and approval, that you look on the photos Chelsea sends of your identity-to-be. Jonathan Straussler is a tall, lanky kid (but not too skinny) with soft blonde locks, limpid blue eyes, and a lazy smile. According to the stats and to the local sports-news write-ups (which neither you nor Yumi have ever followed with any interest) he's one of the better members of the EHS team. She also sends you links to various social media postings—the girl had really done your homework for you—that suggest he's pretty popular over at EHS, for he shows up on a lot of pages and posts.
In many of them he has a girl nestled in the crook of his arm. She's very short—or he's even taller than he appears in the other photos—for the top of her head barely clears the top of his shoulder. She has an oval face with large eyes, and long, raven-dark hair that trails down to her elbows. "Monique Travers" is her name, and apparently she's a freshman. Hmmm. Intriguing.
You show Chelsea the mask the next morning when, back inside Gary Chen's mask, she picks you up for school. "Awesome," he says. "Stick around after school." He grips your thigh. "Even if we can't get Jonathan up in the loft, maybe we can have some fun up there?"
* * * * *
You're jumpy all day, and prickle all over with anticipation. Your friends even notice. "What's gotten into you?" Jessica Garner asks you at the end of fourth period. "You kept squirming." You try to pass it off as "too much caffeine," but she looks skeptical.
So why are you so excited?
Is it nerves? It's partly that, probably. You will be jumping into a new skin, and it'll be the skin of someone with a very different life at a different school. But it's got to be more than that.
Is it because you'll be getting a new identity? You weren't this excited about making Yumi into an alias: that really was a case of nerves, and now that you're used to the idea of "being someone else" you really shouldn't be too overwrought. But you've got a hard case of butterflies in your stomach.
You glance around your classrooms and pretend that it's some of the people in there that you are going to be impersonating. Cameron Huber, the WHS quarterback. Seth Javits, the bully basketball player who dates Cindy Vredenburg. Nathan Cruz, who is first-chair violin in the orchestra and is on the swim team. But these don't give you the thrill that you get when you remember that, by the end of the day (with luck) you'll be Jonathan Straussler of Eastman High.
Eventually, you have to conclude, it's Jonathan himself who's got you excited. His dad is a billionaire, after all, and besides that he's a popular, good-looking jock with a cute girlfriend.
You wonder if he's got a sports car. He must have.
You hope he has.
You're a wreck by the time Orchestra rolls around, because you've not heard from Chelsea whether she got things set up. But while you're changing out books before eighth period, your boyfriend slides up next to you—as he has been, ever since you started going out—and murmurs in your ear: "It's on."
And when he bites the top of your ear you almost liquefy on the spot.
* * * * *
But you've still got a long wait until the magical moment because basketball practice takes up the hour after school, and then Straussler will have to make his way over the WHS. Somehow you find the concentration to push through a bunch of homework in the library, until you're kicked out at straight-up five o'clock, and then you go out and sit in Chen's Jeep and watch as the basketball players and tennis players, softball players and lacrosse players, stream off the fields and out of the gym to their cars. You take special note of Steve Patterson, Gordon Black's best friend, exiting the gym with a very sour expression on his face.
Then you wait another thirty minutes, cruising the internet in a highly distracted state and fielding texts from friends. Jenny Ashton and the Garners want to know what you're doing that evening, but you put them off with excuses: Golem-Yumi can decide what to do after dinner.
Finally, at the bottom of the hour, a silvery Porsche coupe purrs into the lot and parks a couple of rows down. Instantly, you begin to salivate. From the driver's side steps Jonathan Straussler.
He is tall, though exactly how tall is hard to make out from a distance and without a point of comparison. He is slim, and dressed in an incongruous combination of red track pants with a gray stripe down the side and a white, button-down shirt with untucked tails and sleeves rolled up past the elbows. With hands in his pockets he saunters out of sight down the breezeway that fronts the gym.
You take a deep, sighing gulp, and clench your phone as you wait for the signal.
Fuck, but it's a long time coming!
Finally, though, your cell dings. cum up, says your boyfriend, and you fly out of the car. You sprint off down the breezeway and yank open the doors to the gym.
Chen is at the bottom of the stairs to the loft, grinning hard as you gallop across the gym floor, your footfalls booming in the empty space. "You look like you're about to shit yourself," he says.
"Is he out? I mean, you got the mask on him?" you pant.
"Sure. Gordon grabbed him from behind, and I popped it onto him." He cocks his head. "He takes a good picture. I think he's a little funnier-looking in real life."
You're too excited to listen, and brush past him. He pinches your butt as you mount the steps. You squeal and almost trip, but make to the top with most of your dignity intact.
The door is open, and Gordon looks over with a glower as you enter. You spare him only a brief glance, though, and edge around him.
Jonathan Straussler is lying on the gym mat—the same one where you and Gary Chen have made naked, sweaty love. For a moment, you feel repulsed.
But the feeling vanishes as you study Straussler more carefully. Is he "funny looking"? No, wouldn't say so, though maybe he does look a little less composed with his face slack, his eyes staring, and his mouth hanging open. His face is narrow and so are his eyes. And maybe his mouth is a little too wide. But he's handsome enough. You wouldn't feel ashamed to have a face like that.
"How long do we have to wait?" you ask.
"I dunno," says Chelsea. "A couple of more minutes. I texted you right after we got it onto him. If you wanna get undressed—" He wraps his arms around you from behind, and pulls you close. "We can have a little fun while we still can. Gordon, go wait downstairs, make sure no one comes up here."
"We don't have enough time," you reply. "Not enough to make it count."
"Oh, come on, I just need a minute. I'm already—"
"That'd be fun for you but not for me. Come on, Chelsea, don't tell me you don't know all about that!"
Chen grumbles but lets you go. As you pull off your clothes, you promise him that you'll make the golem-Yumi give him a good time. He mumbles something in reply. "What did you say?" you ask.
"I said, it won't be the same." He catches you by the hand. "Find some way to keep us together, Will," he says. "I'm going to miss you."
You almost fall over with surprise.  You have the following choice:  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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