"Well, Tina and I are going to run away after the party," Tom, who was now going by "Tommy" to everyone, since Tina liked the name (although she like calling him "Tommy-Nommy," as in "Nom-Nom!"), explained to Brandon Stewart, who was called Brandy (because Cindy said he was intoxicating), in the second floor Boys bathroom. "You two should come with us."
"I don't know," replied Brandy. His hair was a reddish blond, with some darker, auburn streaks. 4'8" tall, he stood on his toes to reach the soap dispenser. "I'd have to ask Cindy. Where're you going to go?"
"I dunno," shrugged Tommy. He readjusted his shirt, making a note to find some stuff which fit better. "I think we're going to ride the rails and see if we can find one of those places where people go to drop out of society. There was a place in Texas where that Uni-bomber guy and his brother lived. There was also one I saw in some video on line called Mesa, and that place from 'Into the Wild'."
"The Alaskan wilderness!" Brandy replied, his high voice cracking. It seemed to be doing that all the time now. It was kind of annoying, but Cindy found it cute, so he supposed it was okay. "That guy starved to death, dude!"
"No! Not Alaska!" shot back Tommy, young face momentarily darkening with annoyance. "California! An old, abandoned military base somewhere in California. It was named something after the slabs of the old military buildings. I was looking for it and other places on line last night, but my dad caught me and made me go to bed."
"Tough break," sympathized Brandy, checking his phone for messages from Cindy. He quickly typed in a message to let Cindy know he missed her. "Why didn't you used your phone? You know, hide it under the sheets?"
"They've got that, too," Tommy answered, momentarily pouting. "I can't drive, can't use my phone, can't use my computer except for schoolwork, and they won't let me go over to Tina's! That's why we gotta take off! Her parent's also think she's spending too much time with me and not enough on schoolwork. Although they have let her keep her phone, drive, and stuff."
"Ouch!" replied Brandy, combing his hair. His hair wasn't as curly as Tommy's, although it was longer, reaching down to the middle of his back. It had a tendency to billow out behind him when he was on his skateboard. "My parents took away me driving privileges, too. They said I was spending too much time with Cindy and not enough on my schoolwork! They just don't understand what's important, do they?!"
"They don't!" declared Tommy, absently rubbing his crotch. He was feeling horny again-- well, hornier than earlier, actually. He hadn't seen Tina since lunch, a whole hour ago. "That's why you and some of the other guys and girls should come with us! It'll be awesome!"
"Well, I'll talk with Tina about it," promised Brandy, drying his hands on a paper towel. He was just tossing it in the trash when the rest room door opened. "Uh-oh."
Tommy looked up. Dale, one of the school's bullies, had entered the rest room. Just over six feet tall, acne scarred face, thick black eyebrows over eyes bloodshot, by weed, probably, smelling of cigarette smoke, heavy frame padded by a tick layer of fat over muscle, and all topped off by messy, greasy black hair. By and large the stoners only tolerated him because sometimes it was useful to have an attack dog around, and it was easier to get him stoned that get rid of him. Dale never seemed happy to see anyone, didn't like things he didn't understand (most things), and really didn't understand what was going on with kids like Brandy and Tommy and others who'd received the Valentine. The two boys were suddenly nervous.
"Hey, freaks, loan me some money!" demanded Dale, letting the door close behind him.
"Sorry, I don't have any," apologized Brandy nervously. He grabbed his backpack off the floor and hugged it in front of him. "We were just leaving, so you can have the place to yourself."
'CRAP!' he thought. 'I don't want to get beat up! I want to look my best for Cindy! What if I go to the hospital?!'
"You're not going anywhere!" growled Dale, planting himself between them and the door. "Not until I get ten dollars! Each!"
Dale had been held back a number of times (no one was certain how many) and was rumored to be twenty or so. That meant he weighed roughly twice what either of the boys weighed. Maybe more. Everyone in the room knew it.
Brandy was debating digging through his backpack and using his Economics book as some sort of weapon. It was the biggest book he had with him, and recently he'd come to the decision that it didn't really matter if he passed the class or not-- he'd never use Economics! Besides, there were better ways to use his time. Most of those uses involved Cindy. Some involved skateboarding, a newly found hobby. The best involved both Cindy and skateboarding...
His attention was jerked back to the room by Tommy talking.
"Wait! Wait! Let me see what I've got!" Tommy begged, digging his wallet out of his khakis. He shuffled through its contents. "I, I've got a five, a ten and some ones. Here, here's what I've got!"
He held out a wad of bills to the bully. Dale actually looked disappointed. He grabbed the money and slowly counted it, frowning. He shoved the money into a pocket of his long unwashed jeans.
"All right. You got lucky," he growled. "Now get out!"
The two smaller boys ran. Dale took out a cigarette, which was the real reason he'd entered the Boys room.
While he searched his pockets for his lighter, he glared at the closed door. Was something going on? There seemed to be more and more of those wimpy young kids... but, at the same time, he somehow knew who they had been. But only if he didn't think about it too much.
Finding his lighter he shook his head. Whatever it was, he didn't like it. Hopefully someone would take care of it. Beating up on those smaller kids wasn't much fun. They were only good for getting money from, when they had it. He shook his head again. He didn't like thinking and he didn't like change-- it was too confusing.
Lighting up his cigarette, he banished the thoughts from his head. He needed to get some drugs so he could get a girl and get laid...
-------------------
The trouble was, too many places sold cards.
Mr. Clarkson and Jim sat in the front of Clarkson's old Dodge, with Coach Harms, now Johnny, in the back seat and the child safety locks on. Johnny had tried getting out a few times already. Currently, Johnny was lost in some daydream and not so subtly rubbing his crotch. Clarkson hoped Johnny wouldn't stain the seat.
"Okay," Jim sighed, looking at a handwritten list of places which likely sold cards. "We've eliminated Walgreen stores, supermarkets, and the Hallmark stores. If it had been any of them, it-- whatever it is-- would be all over town and not just the school. What is left?"
It was Clarkson's turn to sigh.
"Novelty stores, gift stores, and other specialty stores," the teacher answered. "Not to mention some bookstores. Generally, they like to carry the more expensive cards, and from what I saw, these cards don't look that fancy. Then again, these cards do that!"
He gestured toward the back seat. Johnny was still rubbing his crotch, now squirming a bit. Clarkson looked away.
Jim glanced at the back seat. He'd never really cared one way or the other about Coach Harms, still... a middle aged guy turning into a kid like that? It was kind of creepy, even more so that the formerly middle aged guy was obsessed with a girl young enough to be his daughter! Only, now he wasn't...
"There are the dollar stores," Jim suddenly added, as much to get his mind away from Coach-now-Johnny. "They carry cards which the other stores weren't able to sell. But that would be after Valentines Day."
"Unless a store tried to get rid of their excess before Valentines Day," corrected Mr. Clarkson. He rubbed his forehead. He had papers to grade, lessons to plan. But whatever was going on was more important, even if only because all of the effected students seemed to be flunking ever since they changed. "Where did that girl, Katie?, say she got her card?"
"From a friend or friends," answered Jim, unhappily. "She didn't say who."
"Do you know where she lives?"
Jim had to think for a moment.
"No, but I do know where Jim lives and I'll bet he knows!"
"Hey!" Johnny called from the back seat. He leaned forward. If there was anything left of Coach Harms, it was deeply buried. "I really need to stop off and buy some things. There's this really big party and I gotta get some cool clothes for it! And I gotta get a hold of Connie and, maybe, get her a gift or something. Hey, if you were the most perfect girl in the world, what would you like?"
Mr. Clarkson looked at Jim.
"A party?" he asked.
"First I've heard of it," Jim replied with a shrug.
"Yeah! EVERYones going to be there!" answered Johnny enthusiastically, his voice cracking from excitement. "It'll be awesome! I've GOT to ask Connie to it! Can we please stop somewhere to eat and to get me some clothes and something for Connie? I mean, sitting in this car isn't getting anything done."
"What do you bet all of those guys who've been changed like this are going to be there, with their girlfriends?" Jim asked Mr. Clarkson.
"I'd bet you're right," Clarkson answered thoughtfully. "And one of those girlfriends will almost certainly know where the cards came from."
"Well, yeah!" Johnny interjected. "Everyone's going to be there! Like I said."
"We seem to have two choices, then," Clarkson continued, only barely acknowledging Johnny's contribution. "We can get a hold of Jim, then Katie, and take it from there, or we could crash the party Co-- I mean, Johnny, keeps talking about. What do you think?"