Chapter 8 - Stolen Princess
George hurried out of the old locker room, back through the hallway, and into the gymnasium. Upon noticing the time on the wall clock, he realized he must have missed the bell and was now late for his art class. So, he began walking in that direction.
"Are you okay, Master?" she asked.
Genie's words were soothing but careful as if she feared he'd fall into another episode if she said the wrong thing. George felt guilty for making her feel like she needed to be ready for his seemingly inevitable breakdown. "I'm alright," he said as stoically as he could. "Anyway... what's the story with Lacy? Is he her pimp or something?"
"Sorta. They have an arrangement, you see. She gets a full scholarship to her dream school, and she... relieves the team's tension. And she's not the first girl your coach has used like this."
"Oh my god... Is Veiss blackmailing her, too?"
"Um... it's complicated?"
"What does that mean? Is he or isn't he?"
"It's not that simple, Master," she sighed. "How do I explain... She's a very sexual person, and she really loves getting dirty. And she likes bossing around big, strong bulls who treat her like a queen. It satisfies a deep primal need, and if she wasn't getting it from the football team, she'd be getting it somewhere else. But if you asked her if she'd prefer getting into college this way, the answer would be no. She doesn't want a bad reputation. She doesn't enjoy being called a whore or a slut behind her back. And she feels really guilty for having sex with Farah's boyfriend and her father, but... "
"Wait, wait, wait... what's Farah have to do with this?"
"Promise you won't freak out?" she asked sheepishly.
The mere question was enough to raise the hair on his neck. But he told himself this was the new brave George, not the mopey, timid George. "It's okay, Genie."
"Coach Veiss is Farah's father. Stepfather, technically, but yeah."
The cold dread he'd been struggling against chilled him to his core. Of all the fathers in all the world, why did he have to be hers? And why didn't he know that? How had he missed that detail in all the years he'd studied her? Was he so consumed by pain and grief that he didn't notice, or did he somehow choose not to acknowledge it?
The familiar negative spirals began to take shape, threatening to drag his mood down until he was drowning in self-loathing again. But he recognized that it was happening this time and was able to stop it. Instead, he chose to focus on other, more pressing issues at hand.
"Well... that's a thing, I guess," he sighed. "So, he and Lacy are..."
"I could tell you, but... Master, are you sure you want to know? This might be something you felt was too personal before."
George, once again, felt the sharp sting of reality. He didn't know what Lacy's situation was, and as far as tormentors go, she'd been one of the worst. Still, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her. And now, George was trapped in that same web, forced to perform for a puppet master who'd do anything to accomplish his goals. A man who would use anyone and discard them the moment they weren't valuable. In a way, the entire team was his whores, and George was right there with them.
"Well, I guess I'm not the only one who's gone through some shit," he said. "You're right, don't tell me, and thanks for the warning."
"No problem," she said solemnly.
George was bummed that his typically effervescent companion now seemed so down. "Everything okay?" he asked.
"Yeah. I'm just feeling a bit useless... and stupid."
"Aww, why would you say that?"
She huffed indignantly and said, "It's just... I have all this power, literally an entire universe full, yet it never occurred to me that bringing all that attention to you would have so many negative consequences. If I'd known it would have gotten you into this much trouble, I wouldn't have posted that video."
That might have been the most prudent thing she'd said since her arrival. And also very unlike her. "Hey, that doesn't sound like the unflappable cosmic being we've all grown to know and love. Besides, how could you know my football coach is a freaking wizard."
"Yeah... you're right. Do you know what I should do? I should go into your spank bank and look for something spicy. That always cheers me up."
"W-Wait..."
The Genie gasped, "Oh my! Help me, step-bro, I'm stuck in the washing machine again! Oh no! You can see my panties!"
George groaned while she was cracking up. "And to think," he said, "I was gonna offer you a piggyback ride. Too bad."
Suddenly, she materialized behind him and jumped on his back. "My leg hurts, step-bro! Will you carry me to my bed?"
George finally arrived at his senior art class and set up at his usual table, the invisible Genie now riding piggyback. But as he got out his tablet, a girl from across the room bounded over to him. It was Piper's colorful goth friend.
"George, I need to talk to you," she said frantically.
George took a quick breath to prepare himself and replied, "Okay, what's up?"
The girl looked frazzled and worried. "Did Piper ever catch up with you yesterday? She told me she was going to walk you home."
George thought back to yesterday when that nerdy redhead tried to stand between him and his attic sanctuary. Piper's last words to him wrang through his mind. "I don't care anymore!" she screamed in the rain. Things had changed so much since then; it might as well have been another life. It'd been such a hectic day that he'd almost forgotten about her.
"Yeah, she walked with me for a while. I was hoping I'd see her today."
"Yeah, well, her mom called and told me she didn't come home last night, and she didn't show up at school this morning, either. So I was hoping you knew where she went. Her mom is, like, freaking out."
His stomach dropped as a horrible idea came to mind. Once again, he remembered two guys talking about a maiden in the bathroom.
It couldn't be.
The colorfully dressed girl fiddled with the end of the blue streak in her hair while she interrogated him. "Did she say anything to you, like, where she was going? People have been looking for her all day, but the police keep dragging their feet. Christ, I'm so worried. If something happened to her, I'd just die!"
"Master, remember those boys from earlier in the bathroom? They mentioned something about needing a maiden for something."
"And Piper was one of the girls on their board. A princess. What the heck does that mean?"
The young woman was getting annoyed. "Hey! Earth to George? Are you listening?"
"Y-Yeah, sorry. What was your name?"
Her face dropped into a scowl. "It's Elizabeth. Ya know, Lizzie? We've been in the same art classes for, like, five years, dude."
"Right, Lizzie... sorry. I was just trying to think back to yesterday. Where were we..." George reviewed his last encounter with Piper to the best of his recollection. He remembered the shortness of breath, the weakness, the extreme fits of pain, but their conversation had taken a back seat. He remembered how she tried to help him, but he didn't believe her then. The way she spoke to him, her gentle touch, and especially the look in her gorgeous eyes seemed too good to be true. Knowing that the curse had distorted his perception seemed to make everything worse in hindsight. But now, George saw her for what she truly was, a beautiful heroine who'd come to rescue him. If only he had let her.
Eventually, he found his memory and explained, "We broke off on Carpenter Street, just before Mason Way. It was raining, I was pretty sick, we fought a little, and I told her to go home. I don't remember if she said she was going anywhere else."
"Fuck," Lizzie muttered to herself in disappointment. But then, she said, "Wait. You were fighting? If you hurt her, I swear to God..."
George put his hands up defensively. "No! Not like that! I... I was in a bad place, and she was trying to help me, but... I don't know. I guess I was kind of an asshole? But she was okay when I last saw her; she was just really upset. I promise."
Lizzie crossed her arms and huffed, "God, that's so typical. No offense, George, but I never understood why she wasted so much time on you. I can't even count the number of times she's called me crying over your bullshit."
That couldn't be right, he thought. Piper always kept her distance from him, like most people. "What are you talking about? I barely know her."
She glared at him, her eyes getting misty from the emotions about to be released. "How can you say that after all she's done for you? Always dragging your ass to the nurse's office or cleaning you up in the bathroom. Everyone makes fun of her for it, but she does it anyway."
George searched his memories for confirmation of what Lizzie told him, but he could only remember vague feelings. Had Lizzie been thinking of the right George? Or...
"It's the curse," said the Genie. The two realized the truth at the same time. "Of course. It's been scrambling your brain and stealing your tender moments with her. But how can that still be the case?" she asked herself.
George was getting a headache as he pried deeper and deeper into the last few years, trying to remember anything involving Piper. But there was nothing. Even now, he was having trouble remembering what she looked like.
Lizzie continued. "I get that you've got some shitty illness or whatever, but did you have to take it out on her? Fuck, my own mother doesn't care about me as much. And now, she might be in trouble o-or...." The stress of the situation was finally getting to her as a multitude of uncomfortable possibilities ran through her mind, making her tears start to fall.
Everything was happening so fast, but seeing Lizzie cry like that hit so close to home; he couldn't help but understand what she was going through. So, without thinking, George stood and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her gently as she wept. He noticed a few people were looking at them, which made him feel exposed, but he needed to do it for himself, if not for her. She was a curvy girl but a touch shorter than the Genie, and holding her made George feel like a giant. Lizzie didn't protest and pressed her face against his bicep, tears seeping into his hoodie.
"I dunno what to do," she mewled. Finally, Lizzie stopped talking and surrendered to her negative feelings, devolving into a pitiful sobbing mess.
George did his best to project an air of stability and confidence, but he was just as worried about Piper as Lizzie was. Having never been in a situation like this, George was unsure how best to console her. But he felt compelled to say something. As he rubbed her back, he wondered, what did he need to hear right now? What would the Genie say? What would his father say?
"Hey, c'mon. Let's not get ahead of ourselves," he said softly. "For now, we have to believe that she'll be okay. We can't help her if we give up."
His words seemed to reach her, and she regained some composure. "I know. And I'm sorry, okay, for what I said. I'm just... I'm terrified. She's never done anything like this, and I was hoping you knew something, but..."
But he did know something. It couldn't be a coincidence that those football players talked about a kidnapping while Piper was missing. The events had to be linked. And, as luck would have it, he had an appointment with someone who could tell him more. That is if she wasn't still angry with him over the chili incident.
