Chapter 5

 

“What do you mean, ‘Practice?’ That doesn’t make any sense!”

“Okay,” Matthew responded, dabbing his lips with a tissue, “call it research.”

“Research into what?!” Ryan demanded. He looked like he was going to start turning purple any second now, and Matthew didn’t seem to care one little bit, more preoccupied with the lipstick and, Hunter noticed, his nails, which had a little galaxy-nebula pattern. They were pretty, he had to admit. 

“Just in case,” Matthew said with a cheeky grin. “You never know what the future holds, Ryan. Best to prepare for every eventuality.” He looked at his nails. They reflected light in every direction. Someone more mystically inclined than Hunter might have compared them to crystal in which one might see the night sky, but he thought it was more like Matthew had disco balls at the end of each hand. “And besides, I think this is my color.”

“Your c—“ Ryan said and then groaned. He looked just about ready to scream, then looked at the clock and realized there wasn’t enough time for a good scream. Class was about to restart, after all. “This isn’t going to work,” Ryan said. “Nobody’s going to vote for you like this, and you’re going to regret it.”

He stormed off in a huff, leaving Matthew to blow air on his own fingers. “He’ll… come around,” Hunter said, but he wasn’t entirely sure. Ryan had never really minded Matthew when he was being different. He’d come to school in a dress before, and then Ryan had only complained that it would make him slower if they were going to be playing soccer that afternoon (it hadn’t). “I’m sure he will.”

“He will,” Matthew said with a smile that, like an arrow on a windy day, went slightly off the mark. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. There wasn’t much more to say after that, and they went back to class when the bell rang. 

The rest of the day was largely uneventful, as school days had a tendency to be. Matthew got some looks in class, but putting on lipstick was hardly off-brand for him. The teacher rolled his eyes, but that had more to do with Matt’s habit of being the class clown and the expected — but absent — hijinks. 

The boy had always been the kind of person who was sent to the principal’s office, but also the kind to get off light. Sure, he was disruptive, but the problem was that several teachers also seemed to think he was genuinely funny, and it was hard to berate someone when you had coffee coming out of your nose. The faculty both loved and hated him, apparently, and it was something Matt had always reveled in. 

His silence now was strange, out of character. Even the teacher shot him increasingly worried glances. Either the class clown was planning the greatest prank ever, or he wasn’t in the mood to be funny, and it was difficult to pick which was worse. 

Hunter sought him out after class. They were all going to be heading to the bathrooms anyway to wait for the timer to count down anyway. “Hey,” he said, nudging an unusually quiet Matt. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said. He was fidgeting with the nail polish. “I will be. I think. I don’t know, you know?” 

“I know,” Hunter said. “Or I don’t, I guess.” They both chuckled for a moment. “Is this about Ryan?” He shot Matt a sideways glance as they walked. He didn’t want his friend to feel stared at. 

“Sort of, I guess,” Matt said. “I’m just worried he might not… I don’t know. He’s a good guy. It’s going to be okay. Yeah.” He chewed his lip. “The whole mirror-voting thing just complicates everything, but maybe that’s a good thing, you know? Maybe we needed this.”

“I don’t need this,” Hunter said, rubbing his face, “this is going to be two months of anxiety at this rate.” They turned the corner to the bathrooms. Like last time, a crowd had already gathered and just like last time, Drew was there, waiting for them. 

With a wave of his hand he parted the pimply sea, and they made their way to the boys’ bathrooms. Not exactly the promised land, but it was going to have to do. People were craning their necks to look at the mirrors, one boy in front with a nervous expression on his face. It was Daryl, the boy Hunter had saved from sudden girl-ification the day before. He was at six votes, still one below the next two boys, and it looked like everyone was out of votes. Daryl occasionally shot a pleading look at the people around him, but he only got back quiet head-shakes. Nobody was saving him this time.

Hunter was tempted, though, but he wasn’t sure if the rules were going to change tomorrow, if their votes were going to stay tomorrow. The fact that things had already been altered from the first day to the next was a clear sign this wasn’t going to be a regular popularity contest. There were going to be complications. 

Ryan pulled them aside. “Look,” he said, pointing at the mirrors. His name was up to 118. Matthew gave him an approving thumbs up, to which he responded with a nod and then, a second later, a big smile. Matthew mirrored it, and just like that, a fragile peace was once again forged between the two. Hunter pretended not to notice. 

“What do you think?” Drew asked. 

“I think,” Hunter said, ”after whatever happens, happens to—” he looked at the mirrors, “— Daryl, then we’ll see what happened to the scores.” He looked up. Matthew turned a few heads. One kid ran up to the mirror, grinning, and tapped a name. The score went down by one. Then he tapped on Matt’s name. It didn’t change the rankings any, but that didn’t seem to be the point. Matthew grinned and saluted him.

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“It’s almost time,” someone said, and all heads immediately turned to the timer. Ten seconds. Nine. Eight. 

“Do you have a plan yet?” Drew asked. Hunter looked at him and jutted his jaw forward. He had some idea but he needed to be sure. He needed to think, and right now, that was hard. Something about this situation felt weird. He looked at Daryl again. 

Seven. Six. The boy was freaking out. He was pulling sleeves and trying to drag his friends to the mirror, but nobody was watching. Everyone was just staring, like it was some kind of play. 

Five. Four. “Not yet,” Hunter said. “But yes. I have a plan.” Daryl was crying now. Tears streamed down his face as he pressed his own name over and over again, but his number didn’t and couldn’t go up any higher, stuck at six. Hunter saw him yell but the rush of blood in his ears had deafened him to the boy’s pleas. Something was wrong.

Three. Two. He looked around. Matthew was in the corner, frowning, arms crossed, looking from a distance. He was still on the third mirror, about a fifth from the top, with about 26 votes. Hunter was two positions from the bottom on the second mirror with 36. Why did that bother him? A feeling of dread built up in his stomach. He turned to Matthew again. 

One. 

All eyes turned to Daryl, and those closest to him stepped away, remembering or having heard rumour of what had happened to Olivia and the damage she’d done to the bathrooms. Drew took a step forward, putting himself between the boy and Hunter. 

Daryl began to float off the ground, his arms spread wide, light shining out of his eyes, nose and mouth. Slowly but faster with each rotation, he spun around his axis. Hunter found himself comparing the boy to a helicopter and suppressed an inappropriate chuckle. 

The spinning died down, and the boy crashed to the ground. Hunter had wondered if perhaps this time, the transformation would be something, anything else. Of course it was a girl again. Several girls from the other bathroom muscled their way through the crowd and immediately shielded her. The girl who had been Daryl sniffled something Hunter couldn’t hear, and she was led out of the room. 

Everyone looked at each other. Then the two boys who had been just above Dylan looked at each other in shock. “Kay, did you also f—“ one of them managed before buckling double, light leaking through their closed eyelids. Ryan looked at them with shock. 

“No,” he mumbled, before the two went up into the air, and started to spin as well. Before they even came down, another one went up. By the time Kay and the other boy had fallen to the floor as girls, eight more had risen. Every single time one of the boys floated up, one of the names on the mirrors disappeared. The entire fourth mirror was empty, but it kept going. Every time one of them came down as a girl, they were quickly ushered outwards by girls from the other bathrooms, but it was getting harder and harder as the room exploded into chaos. Hunter was frozen in confusion, but some of the boys were trying to get out of the room, as if being here was the problem.

Shrieks in the hall accompanied by names disappearing told them that it was futile, and that David, Nguyen, Maxwell and Nathan had been next. Doing some quick mental math, Hunter realised he was twelve people away from exploding like the others. He felt his breath come and go faster and faster.

“Hey,” Drew said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m here. Deep breaths, you’re hyperventilating.” Hunter nodded several times, felt his eyes sting. He looked around. Three more boys had been affected (infected?) and had landed, surrounded by girls who were immediately there for them. That was nice, at least, Hunter thought. The idea of girls looking after each other was a nice one. 

Two more. One came out of one of the bathroom stalls, a boy named Lewis who had tried to hide behind the barely-there doors. They heard the clattering of the toilet seat as she came back down. She had to hold her pants up as she opened the door. The girl was tiny compared to who she had been. When the girls came to pick her up, Hunter saw a flash of a summer dress. 

“Wait,” Ryan said, looking at the list. Hunter was drawing the same conclusion as his friend, and probably at around the same time. Above Lewis were two kids, Mohammed and Ben, both of which were already floating. The name above that was— “Matthew,” Ryan said. They both turned to their friend, who was still standing in the corner of the room, arms crossed, breathing heavily and staring at the mirrors. “Matt!” Ryan said and he lunged, as if he was going to stop what was about to happen with his bare hands. 

Then, Matthew began to float, shining like a human lighthouse. By the time the spinning had stopped and the figure of their friend had fallen to the floor, it had already been surrounded by girls. There was whispering and muttering, and the rustling of cloth. Some of the girls on the outside kept boys, including Ryan, Drew and Hunter, away. 

Outside, two more boys floated up, and then something interesting happened. It stopped. The names stopped ticking up, and the timer on top started counting down from twenty-four hours again. The countdown had once again begun. Hunter was three positions from the bottom now.

He kept one eye on the mirrors, but right now he was more concerned with his friend. Finally, out of the circle of girls, one jumped up and stepped forward. She had her hair in a messy braid and a wide grin on her face. Her dress had pockets, and she stuck her hands into them experimentally. She was wearing some extremely pink, extremely glittery lipstick. 

“M— Matthew?” Ryan said. The girl jumped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“Ryan!” She shouted. “Take me!” As he stammered in embarrassed confusion, she laughed so hard Hunter was sure everyone in the school could hear her cackling.