This Is Our Story
Epilogue
Jordan Lyons slipped silently out of the journalism classroom and went right down to the men’s room. That fat girl who’d been eavesdropping with him, Hefty Hailey, was long gone. She’d arrived shortly after him, where he’d been waiting to give that perv loser Fishers the least sincere apology he’d ever given. It was a condition of his suspension; that bitch Miss C had thrown a shit-fit over nothing more than repeating the truth, and the vice principal had given him one day in-school suspension, with three more to come after break if he didn’t personally apologize to Fishers.
The prick ISS monitor hadn’t let him leave to do it during school and of course that bimbo Miss C never sent down a hall pass, so he’d had to run down after school to make sure he didn’t miss his shot and get three more days after break. He’d heard Miss C and Fishers talking in the office, but once he got a whiff of the conversation—a teacher fucking with a straight-A student’s grade, basically blackmailing her into dating a guy she’d already shut down!—he’d settled in to listen. This was too rich. He immediately started fantasizing about watching Fishers’ weak ass pass out all over again when Heather dumped him again after Jordan told her. About seeing that lying bitch teacher dragged out of class to get her ass fired.
Hell, maybe he’d even give the old broad a chance to suck him into silence. She wasn’t bad-looking, and not like he couldn’t rat her out afterward anyway. What would she do, tell the principal she’d sucked a student’s dick to keep her secret? Then she’d be in prison, not merely the welfare office.
The ugly girl listening with him hadn’t lasted long. That fat pig evidently had a thing for Fishers, and she ran out sobbing when she overheard how that bitch Miss C had helped set him up with Heather Blake. Jordan had tried to feel bad for her, but really, getting her heart shattered was probably good practice for her future.
Only after she left, he kept listening, and the story he heard Fishers tell…
Bullshit, he thought. No fucking way. He even thought they might have realized he was out here listening and were fucking with him. But it sure didn’t sound like it. Using people’s quotes to change their personalities? Body swapping? Hell, he’d seen Hayleigh McKnight that morning before reporting to ISS, and she’d still looked damn fine to him.
Then he listened to Fishers break the spell for her, and, in spite of himself, he got curious. It was an idiot prank, had to be. Miss C was just too stupid to see through it. Only…
Whatever, it cost him nothing to check. Not like anyone was looking.
Jordan pulled up a picture of Hayleigh on his phone. They were friends on facebook, so it was easy to find one. Looked the same as ever to him. Skinny little legs, tits so perky it had to be a pushup bra, the face that had turned her into one of the most ruthless bitches at Northside. After a moment’s study, he underwent the same process he’d heard Fishers describing to Miss C. He pulled up a picture from the slide of thumbnails without looking, zooming all the way in. He opened his eyes to a close-up of some grainy-looking bushes. He started panning around the image looking for Hayleigh, first finding an ankle. A big ankle, weirdly. Was someone else in this picture with her?
“This can’t be legit!” He immediately glanced up, waiting to see if they’d heard him and preparing to bolt. But they were still talking. At first he assumed he’d clicked on a picture of Hayleigh’s fugly cousin or something. He found a fat calf beneath fatter thighs, a stomach full of rolls visible through a too-tight t-shirt, arms that looked like plucked turkey legs, and finally…
The face of that girl who’d been in here waiting for Fishers. That’s right—Hefty Hailey McManus, the tubby bitch whose picture Jordan had caught him screwing with. His mind raced to make sense of it all. So Fishers had changed them somehow, and was trying to change them back. Then he got that new girl Angelica, and Miss C, too. But if nobody saw the real Hayleighs but him, then…
He could own that hot-ass bitch like she was on the discount shelf in the dollar store. No wonder she’d been waiting for him, and why she’d been so upset hearing he was set up with Heather! Obviously neither Hayleigh nor Hailey was wise to what he’d done, so she had the self-esteem of your typical sad sack fatty. To her, even a douche like Fishers was probably a real hunk.
In the bathroom, Jordan splashed cold water on his face, trying to wake himself up from this bizarre, twisted dream. Shit, if either of those girls ever figured out what had happened, they’d probably die of a heart attack on the spot. Hayleigh out of horror, and the other girl because she was so damn fat. Or was it both heart attacks for Hayleigh now?
He strided out of school into the nearly vacant parking lot, shuddering less at the winter chill than at the thought of a girl as fine as Hayleigh McKnight letting a little pud like Fishers have a go at her. Even if someone else was controlling the body, that was just wrong.
Still, all that was nothing compared to what Jordan had heard as he was leaving. At first, he’d thought to throw open the door and get some juicy video, blackmail that cunt of a teacher until the day she died. Would serve her right for what she pulled on Heather. Sure, that big-titted blonde had dumped him back when, but she was still a good girl, and didn’t deserve a dork like Fishers drooling on that divine rack of hers. Plus, being able to ruin Fishers’ life… that was its own reward.
He started his car and turned on the radio by habit. His sister must have messed with the knob; it powered on set to one of those 24-hour Christmas music stations. It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, it sang out. He let it play, his mind on higher things.
Blackmail would be solid, sure; what wouldn’t a teacher do to conceal evidence of her… blech, fucking Conner Fishers! Still, like his old man had always told him: the bigger the dream, the bigger the man. Sure, he could show his hand, let Miss C know what he’d seen. He could have that slut sucking off his other teachers for his grades, to say nothing of Jordan himself. He’d be on easy street.
Fishers, on the other hand, wasn’t on the street any more. No, that lucky son of a bitch was flying above it. He had the power to rewrite the history of Northside High in the palm of his hands. He didn’t need blackmail to have these hot bitches throwing themselves at him.
Jordan pulled out of the parking lot at the commencement, revising his Christmas list in his heart. Dolls that will talk and will go for a walk is the wish of Janice and Jen, sang the voice on the radio.
What TIOS had done for Conner Fishers, it could do for Jordan Lyons. It was time to tell his own version of the Northside story.