The Next Morning
Larry came out of the shower wrapped in a towel, blow-drying his headfur. Ignoring my resolve to avoid referring to the charade unnecessarily, I said, "Zeke, ummm... your fur's not going to stay like that for a month."
Larry set down the hair dryer and unplugged it, brushing his headfur into the way he wanted it. "I'm on it, Wynn. The salon is going to re-do it about every couple of weeks, including the night before we go to Edward's. So twice, I guess, unless Edward takes longer to get ready than he thinks." He grinned. "Don't worry. There won't be any blonde roots showing, and my face and body fur will be a perfect match."
He unwound the towel and rubbed it against a remaining damp spot on his shoulder, then tossed it into the bathoom to land on the hamper. Apparently he felt comfortable now being naked with Maverick and me, despite his unfinished body fur. He pulled some clean underwear out of the drawer he was borrowing in my dresser, and slipped on a clean shirt and shorts. He looked on the floor and frowned. "Where's the jogging suit?"
Maverick waved a fistful of rolled up cloth. "I went down and traded it for a fresh one while you were in the shower." Maverick smiled. "I know you like baby blue." He handed the outfit over. I grinned. That was one of Zeke's preferences, not Larry's, gleaned from voluminous reading.
It didn't look like anything was missing on Larry's neck, though I had never seen Larry without his slave collar, at least not when he was dressed, and rarely when he wasn't. Looking at Larry, I had such a strong feeling of Zeke's presence that it seemed right for his neck to be bare. During the coming month, wearing a collar, even one as subtle as the choker all the boys wore from Third Year on, would clash with Larry's Zeke self-image, and the Dean had given permission for him to forego the universal requirement for slaves. It wouldn't cause any trouble in the confines of the Academy's secured student area. And it should help the other boys treat him as Zeke.
Now fully clothed, Larry leaned toward the mirror, and brushed his headfur for a moment. He shrugged, took a deep breath, and sighed it out with a smile. "I guess I'm ready." He gave me a look of complete innocence as he said, "You'll need to show me the way."
I blinked and nodded. He's not going to give up until he's got me totally convinced he's Zeke. I opened the door and let Maverick go out first. "The caf's not too far. One of the privileges of being a Third Year is we're closer to pretty much everything." There, I thought, you're not going to out-act me, dammit.
There were a couple of open doors in the hallway before we reached the turn, and we heard a gasp come from one of the rooms, followed by a loudly whispered "Zeke Hillcrest!" Maverick and I kept going, with Larry a half-step behind, and nearly ran into Lucas coming the other direction. Lucas stopped dead and goggled, and suddenly blurted, "Z... — Mister Hillcrest! Are you... wow!"
Larry stopped and smiled at him. "Hi. You must be one of the Third Years. The color." He looked Lucas up and down, as if taking in his uniform.
Still wide-eyed, Lucas held out his hand. "Lucas Ward. Mister Hillcrest, I just loved you in 'The Charmer.' I knew you'd end up with Tomasina in the end."
Larry shook hands with him. "Thank you. I had fun in that movie. Please, call me Zeke."
Lucas smiled uncertainly, and echoed, "Zeke." He seemed half dumbstruck. "I... Oh, don't let me keep you from wherever you're going." He waved Maverick on. "I just need to talk to Wynn for just a second."
Maverick took a few steps further down the corridor, and Larry followed, walking backward for a moment. "Nice meeting you, Lucas. Good luck with your hanging."
Lucas nodded his head up and down rapidly. "Thank you." He watched for a moment after Larry turned to follow Maverick, then turned to face me. Making sure the others were out of earshot, he whispered frantically, "I know Larry's supposed to look like Zeke, but... I mean, is that him, or did the real Zeke just show up here for some reason?"
I choked back a wild laugh by jamming my forearm into my mouth, and turned to lean against the wall, my shoulders shaking helplessly. When I gained control again, I looked back around at Lucas, coughed, and finally whispered back, "He's good, isn't he?"
Lucas clenched his fists in frustration. "Just tell me if that's Larry or not!"
I felt the laughter ready to burst out of me again. "I swear that's Larry." I took a deep breath. "Come on, how likely is it Zeke Hillcrest would really be here? And in the secured area, no less?"
Lucas rolled his eyes. "I know that! But he just..." He gestured, unable to find words.
I nodded. "Doesn't he just?"
Lucas shook his head. "I feel like an idiot."
I shook my head vehemently. "No! I know exactly how you felt, really. And you acted just the way we're all supposed to. As long as he's here, he wants to be treated exactly like you'd treat Zeke."
Lucas looked down the corridor toward the cafeteria door through which Larry and Maverick had just disappeared. "No problem. I don't know what I was expecting, but... I mean, he makes me feel like I'm talking to Zeke."
I gave him a quick hug. "Well, that's perfect, then. See you later." I turned and trotted down to the caf, leaving Lucas still shaking his head.
I walked into the cafeteria and got the impression of a gaily-colored room-sized flower; the students in their various uniforms formed concentric circles around Larry. Those in the innermost circle were speaking with him. A little farther away stood a number of boys fidgeting, looking as if they wanted to approach, but couldn't quite bring themselves to come any closer. Farther still, more boys looked on in wide-eyed wonder, frozen into immobility.
I wove my way through the circles, getting close in time to hear Carl ask hesitantly, "So... Are you making a movie here?"
Larry looked around at the other boys as he spoke, as if understanding they were all wondering the same thing. "I don't think the filming will actually be done here. I believe they're building a set that will look something like this. But I want to get familiar with what Hanging Boy life is like. You don't need to let me in on any big secrets, because it won't really be about that. More of a day-to-day life at the Academy kind of thing..."
Wallace broke in. "Will they need any real Hanging Boys as, like, extras?" Several boys around him broke into giggles, one of them saying "Here's your big chance, Wallace."
Larry laughed with them. "I'm sorry, that's not really up to me. Oh, sure," he said to Cyrus, one of the First Year boys, and took the pen and paper Cyrus had thrust toward him. "What's your name?" As if he hadn't spent a month as Cyrus's dorm parent. Moments later, he handed the paper back, and Cyrus laughed out loud as he read it.
I managed to read the note over Cyrus's shoulder: "Cyrus — Thanks for hanging out with me. Zeke Hillcrest." Larry had signed it with a flourish, making the dot over the i a tiny heart.
I took advantage of the brief lull in conversation. "Can I get you some breakfast, Zeke?"
Larry looked up at me. "Would you get me a fruit salad and a glass of grapefruit juice? Thanks." He looked away immediately, as if accustomed to having his orders followed.
I smiled and turned toward the serving line, trying to keep from shaking my head. It was nothing like Larry's usual preference for breakfast.
Morris, one of the Second Years, fell into step beside me, and whispered out of the side of his mouth, "So is that...?"
I was going to get a lot more of this. I wondered whether I'd have to confirm it to every student individually. "Yes, it's Larry. Remember to keep acting as if I just told you the exact opposite." I reached for a tray.
"I promise. It's just..." He looked back again toward Larry. "...really spooky."
I laughed. "Tell me about it."
Morris drifted back toward the middle circle around Larry, as I began picking out some food for Larry, Maverick, and myself.
I tried to stifle the spasm that went through my body when a voice at my elbow suddenly said excitedly, "Hi, Wynn!"
I was glad the tray had been resting on the counter at the time, or it would be on the floor now. I felt the hand briefly on my elbow. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you!"
I had no idea why my heart was pounding so hard. Marcus and I had arrived at sort of a distant-friends understanding in recent weeks, and the discomfort at Marcus's presence had receded to manageable levels. Until now. I put on my friendliest smile, proud that I'd managed to keep the tremor out of my voice. "Hi, Marcus. You look happy."
Marcus's whole face was glowing, making him look more like Marshall than ever. "I just got my report card. I'm up to number six in the class! I was number nine for the first grading period..." I nodded. "...and I really did feel like I was doing better this time." Marcus laughed. "I guess I won't be 'guest of honor' at our first party, this week."
"Marcus, I'm sure you're not going to be 'guest of honor' at any of the parties or demos."
Marcus bubbled, "I'm so excited about the party. I want to meet some outsiders so they can see me as a Hanging Boy! Will you be doing one of your shows?"
I shook my head. "The Dean gave us a little time off from that. We'll be pretty busy with Larry."
Marcus's glow diminished only slightly, a look of disappointment passing through it like a momentary cloud across the sun. "I've heard so much about your shows from the older boys. I want so much to see you do that!" As an afterthought, he added, "And Maverick."
I smiled. "You will before long." I changed the subject. "How's Zuchter doing? He must have got his report card too."
"Uh-huh. He's seventeenth. He's a little disappointed, but that's in the top third. I've been helping him. I was going to ask, could I come by your room later? After dinner, maybe? Like I said, my overall grades are good, but my hanging grade is down. I'm almost up to five minutes now, but most of the boys are passing me up. Maybe you could see something I'm doing wrong?" Marcus bit his lip, his eyes looking hopeful.
I had watched Marcus practice many times, but suddenly found myself looking for any excuse to avoid that sort of contact now. I always saw Marshall superimposed over Marcus whenever I watched him hanging — seeing Marcus naked reminded me that his resemblance to Marshall didn't stop with his face — but I'd thought I was coming to terms with that. I suddenly remembered I actually had an excuse. "I'm sorry, Larry's getting some cosmetic surgical work tonight. I promised I'd stay with him for that. And that's going to occupy the next few evenings. But I'll try to get with you soon, okay?"
The cloud over Marcus's face was darker this time. He nodded. "Okay. I've gotta run, but I'll talk to you later." He took off and dashed out of the caf, not even glancing at the boy who absorbed the attention of everyone else in the room. I looked back toward Larry, and saw Maverick watching Marcus, saw Maverick suddenly blink as the boy ran past. I suspected Maverick must be as surprised as me that Marcus had completely ignored Larry.
Minutes later I came back to the table with a tray full of food, took a seat and passed a fruit salad bowl and drink cup over to Larry, who absently said "Thanks" and resumed signing autographs and chatting with his "fans" about his most recent movie. Maverick, scooping up a forkful of scrambled eggs, gestured with his head back toward the serving line. "What was that about?"
I looked back at the serving line, and then realized what Maverick was referring to. "Oh, with Marcus? He was excited about his report card. He's doing really well."
"Did he want something?"
Even after years of living surrounded by boys who all had that skill of reading people, I was a little surprised. "Just to come by later for some practice. I told him we'd be with Larry in the evenings for a few days."
Maverick looked at me a bit longer, then nodded. I wondered if I'd missed something, then shrugged and turned my attention to my food. I heard Larry saying, "...it's funny, he's really such a sweetheart normally, but his character was such an asshole, and he wouldn't come out of character even during breaks in filming. So he'd be a total asshole to the sandwich boy when we'd stop for lunch. I think he apologized to him later."
Maverick tapped my elbow. "Can you take care of our guest on your own a while? I want to get to the library." He'd already wolfed down his food.
Something in the way Maverick said that struck me as odd. Wherever he's going, I don't think it's the library. I shrugged mentally. Whatever it is, he'll let me know soon. Probably setting up some surprise for Larry. I leaned over to kiss Maverick and said, "Sure. See you in awhile."
I winced as Larry convulsively squeezed my hand again. Larry was on his back on the padded table, with Dr. Perrin sitting on the opposite side, bent over in close concentration, his tattooing pen hopping slowly from point to point on Larry's nose. Larry's eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and he was hissing through clenched teeth.
At last the doctor gave a heavy sigh and sat up. "Raise your head, L—... uhh, Zeke. Let Wynn see." He turned to me and said, "I could use another pair of eyes here. Do you see any areas I missed?"
I looked carefully, and shook my head slowly. "You're doing great."
"Look okay to you, Zeke?"
Larry looked in the mirror, a smile of relief spreading across his face. "Looks great!"
The doctor stretched his back and neck. "I'm going to take about a ten minute break, then do your lips. I should be able to finish that tonight. Then a full session each of the next couple of days for the remaining colors on your nose."
"Will you really get done in three days?" I asked.
The doctor nodded. "I should. The hair salon is going to have the really tricky job. It's a little inconvenient that Zeke's never done any nude scenes in a movie. We'll have to assume that he has a normal fur pattern for his species in areas we've got no photos for. He smiled. "Luckily, Bloom has never seen Zeke naked either."
The doctor stood. "I'm going to walk around a bit." He turned to me, "You can move around to the other side, and we can get started again when I get back." He brushed the curtain aside and left.
Immediately the curtain parted again, and the infirmary nurse looked in. "Zeke, there are a couple of visitors who'd like to see you. Is that okay?"
Larry smiled, and looked up at me. "That'd be Blaise and Carl. I told them they could come by. And that I'd be out of character when I'm in here. Could you put that sheet over me? I'll show them my eyes and headfur, at least."
I quickly spread the sheet out to cover Larry, feeling proud that Maverick and I were still the only students allowed to see Larry naked.
Larry told the nurse to show his friends in, Seconds later Blaise and Carl appeared at the curtain.
Larry waved, giving them a chance to see his eyes.
Blaise blinked. "That really looks great!" He frowned. "Does it hurt, getting all that?"
Larry laughed. "Hell yes, it hurts!"
Blaise and Carl laughed along with him, then Carl gave Larry a serious look. "I really admire what you're putting into this, Zeke. I don't think I could do it."
Larry smiled at him, but spoke seriously. "Carl, of course you could do this. Look what you've already done, just because it was your dream. You're a graduate of the Academy!" Larry locked eyes with his friend. "We all share a dream, but we dream it differently. We all picture the details in different ways. The show I'm going to do isn't what you want. If it was, you'd go through anything, absolutely anything, to get there. For me, it is what I want."
Both boys nodded, while I thought, for the hundredth time, how wrenching it was when Larry changed characters, like a locomotive hurtling down a track that made a sudden right-angle turn. He was clearly being Larry, yet Zeke's voice was still coming out of Zeke's face. And at any instant, he might suddenly start discussing the state of his movie career.
Blaise suddenly grinned and started tentatively, "Speaking of the dream...", and then stopped.
Larry gasped. "You got sold!! But I just saw you a few hours ago! Why didn't you say anything?"
Blaise held up his hands. "It's not done yet. But I've got a meeting set for tomorrow afternoon in the Dean's office. It's a married couple, and they picked out my picture, and they know I want to do the Prince. And it sounds like they're really nice people. Of course, I'll know more after I meet them, but I really have a feeling they'll buy me!" Carl leaned closer and rubbed shoulders with him, to share in his roommate's excitement.
Larry exclaimed, "That is so great! When will you..." He stopped and frowned suddenly. "Ummm... I'm not sure I should come to your party."
Blaise gave him a stricken look. "What? Why not?"
Larry sighed. "Well, you know how everybody gets, around me. And I don't want to take attention away from you. It's your party. You should be who everybody's looking at."
Blaise put his hands on his hips and gave Larry a stern look. "Larry — okay, I'm sorry, I won't call you that again after this, but just this once, I have to. Larry, you have got to be there. I don't care how everybody acts around you. To me, you're a friend who'd better damn well be at my party!" His eyes flashed.
I rubbed Larry's arm. "Zeke, we're all Hanging Boys. Give us some credit. Everybody's going to understand it's Blaise's special day, and that's all they're going to be thinking about."
Larry finally smiled and sighed. "Okay. I'm sorry. Of course I'll be there. It was just..."
I interrupted, addressing Blaise. "His overinflated ego." We all laughed.
Larry, after the laughter died down, nodded. "Anyway, I'll have my secretary check my calendar, but it should be okay." He said it with absolute sincerity. I felt the train careening again.
Six Days Later
"How do I look?" Larry struck a pose, his face showing his best "I want you now!" expression. He was wearing the sexiest undies he could find in Wardrobe — basically a pair of speedos in baby blue, made of a fabric that was just barely on the "tights" side of the boundary between tights and pantyhose. You'd be able see which way he "dressed" even when he wasn't erect — and he was. He had a shirt, but it was "see-through" and worn open in front.
I laughed. "I don't think Zeke would really have to try this hard."
Larry chuckled. "I know. I just want to see their reaction." He craned his neck to get a look at the clock. "Okay, I'm out of here. I'll see you in the morning." He kissed me, then bent to kiss Maverick.
I blinked. "What, you're going to wear that to walk down there?"
Larry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Mom. Sorry if you're shocked." He grinned. "Don't you think everybody wishes Zeke Hillcrest would show up at their door looking like this? I'm just practicing fulfilling fantasies."
I laughed. "Well, yeah, that'll get 'em, all right." Tonight was, in a sense, Larry's coming-out party, his entire body, for the first time, looking like Zeke's. He would be spending the night with Blaise and Carl. Probably mostly in bed.
Larry kissed me again. "You guys have fun." He took a deep breath, opened the door, and walked out into the hallway. There were a couple of gasps, I wasn't sure whose. Larry, in his current state of semi-undress, was obviously going to be causing even more of a stir than usual.
I laughed and returned to the bed to sit by Maverick, slipping an arm around his waist. "I love him so much, but it'll be really nice having a night by ourselves. What are you up for?"
Maverick gave me a rather nervous-looking smile. "What?" I asked.
Maverick took in a deep breath, like Larry had moments earlier. "Ummm... mind going down to somebody's room for a movie? Not a Zeke movie." His laugh was unlike any I'd heard from him before — it sounded tense.
I was silent for several seconds, and finally said, "What's going on? Whose room?"
Maverick paused equally long, and answered, "Marcus and Zuchter's."
I gawked at him. "You took an invitation without even asking??" I was slowly getting accustomed to Larry acting like another person. I wasn't ready for Maverick acting like another person. "Honey, you know how I feel when I'm around him."
Maverick suddenly looked very determined. "Yes, I know. I know all about it, and I understand. But you need to start thinking about how he feels around you."
"I know he's got a monster crush on me for some reason. I was never trying for that. I'm really sorry that it's hard for him."
Maverick shook his head. "That's not what worries me. It's what it's doing to his development as a Hanging Boy. I guess he told you his grades are falling off in Hanging. He might be number one or two in his class if it weren't for that. You've watched him hang as much as I have. He's got perfect form. He's a total natural at it. Is there any reason he shouldn't be number one in Hanging, along with everything else?"
"What are you saying, it's because of how he feels about me? What's the connection?"
Maverick shook his head again. "Not because of how he feels about you. It's about how he thinks you feel about him."
I folded my arms across my chest, and realized I was shaking. Since that night in the Hall of Honor so long ago, I had never had a fight with Maverick. I couldn't imagine what was causing this one. "Okay, what does he think I feel about him?"
"That you don't like him. That you don't think much of his abilities. That you think he's a pest and you wish he'd go away. He's got all the form for hanging, all the natural abilities, but he doesn't have the confidence. He doesn't think he can do it, because he thinks you don't think he can do it."
My eyes flew open wide. "How do you know he thinks all that?"
"Because I asked him."
I shook my head, astounded. "He's got it so wrong! What am I supposed to do? You've heard me encourage him every chance I get!"
"I know what you say to him. None of that matters. It's your body language. Marcus's only been here a couple of months, so he's not an expert yet. He can't read the small print of what your body is saying. But for this he doesn't need to. It's written in huge letters all over you! Like in the caf last week. You were talking to him, when everybody else was crowded around Zeke. Did you know he was crying when he ran out of there? I couldn't hear anything you guys were saying, but I saw you slap him down again. All in body language."
I covered my face so I wouldn't have to look at Marshall. That was the last thing I wanted to do.
Maverick gently pried my hands away from my face, and held them in both of his own. "Wynn, I love you so much!" I realized that Maverick was crying. "It was you that taught me how to care about everybody else. And now it hurts me so bad inside to see a Hanging Boy who's not developing the way I know he can. And for you, of all people, to be the one keeping one of the boys from being everything he can be..." His voice was shaking.
I was crying too. "I'll fix it. I promise I'll fix it. I'll tell him..."
"There's nothing you need to tell him. He already knows what the problem really is."
I wiped at my eyes, sniffling. "What? How does he know?"
"I told him."
I gawked at him. "You told him??"
Maverick was also sniffling. He said, "I told him that everything he's feeling about you, you feel the same way about Marshall. And that you get really nervous around him because of that, and that something inside you wants to make love with Marshall, but you're too good of a person to use Marcus that way."
I sighed. "I still can't do that to him."
Maverick squeezed my hands. "You need to. For Marcus. You have to stop comparing a First Year boy with one of the best graduates ever. He needs to read in you how good you think he is. From you, that would mean so much to him! But you see Marshall every time you look at him, and you see him not measuring up to what Marshall was after three years of training. You need to sleep with him and let your fantasies run. You need to get it all out of your system, so you can start seeing Marcus for who he is, instead of who he looks like."
I shook my head vigorously. "I can't!" I was sweating, my stomach in knots.
Maverick rubbed the backs of my hands with his thumbs. "Wynn, when you're with Larry, especially that first time after the operation, but still even now, you're fantasizing you're making love with Zeke Hillcrest, aren't you? How is that different?"
"It's... it's... Well, Larry knows how much I love him! And he's having fun pretending to be Zeke, and he's doing that intentionally. He loves it that I imagine he's Zeke. That's what he wants!"
"Okay." Maverick nodded patiently. "So what if Marcus was ready and willing to be Marshall for you?
"H-he said that?"
"In words? Of course not." Maverick stroked my shoulder. "Wynn, it's no surprise you haven't been able to read Marcus and see how he's been feeling. You want so badly for him to be Marshall that you're blind to all that. But I'm not. Every time I see you and him together, I see the person I love most in the world, and a new friend who has so much potential, and you're both miserable. You said you'd fix it. He wants to fix it too. This is how."
I looked into Maverick's eyes. Maverick held my gaze without flinching.
I remembered a Maverick who would never have been capable of this. What it all came down to was whether I trusted the Maverick sitting in front of me now.
"They're sitting down in their room, expecting us right now?"
Maverick nodded.
I closed my eyes. I sat silently, for a long time.
Finally, I said, "Drag me down there. Now, while I'm still confused. Get me there before I can change my mind."
I felt Maverick's arms wrap around me, heard Maverick say, "I love you!" Felt the pull as Maverick stood and backed away from the bed, drawing me upright with his hand. "Let's go, babe."