Girl Master of Disguises (Lesbian Story, GirlxGirl)

Chapter Seven - James

A loud text notification on Buggy's phone interrupts her sleep. She blindly reaches for it, and grabs it after knocking the TV remote off the nightstand. Buggy takes the effort to sit up in the middle of the bed and read the text:

     Did you hear anything about the model lately?!

     Being himself, James added a 'gasp!' at the end of the message. He hasn't mentioned anything about Buggy's absence in class, which by now should have been noticed by at least a couple of students. Judging from the time on her phone, he's most likely in class. Why he's texting so early in Acting, Buggy has no idea.

     Why? What's happened? she texts back. Thumbing send, Buggy gets up and takes a well-deserving shower while she waits for James' reply. By the time she's come out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a simple shirt and shorts, her friend sent her not one, but three, messages.

     Read the effing newspaper, woman!

     Or find a TV and watch the channel that did the kidnapping reports a couple of times.

     Whichever you prefer. I'm not really picky.

     Buggy grins amusingly before putting her phone in her pocket. She doesn't find a TV anywhere in the hotel room, however, so she can't watch the news. Not caring about what she looks like right now, she leaves her room and out of the hotel to find a newsstand. Finding one, she pays the worker and grabs the New York Times.

     It doesn't take her long to know everything about the latest news of the kidnapping. "Another photo of Malik being badly abused had been sent, this time to the police station," the newspaper claims. "And the force had not only gotten the model's current state, but the location of where he's most likely in. The envelope the photo was in had been postmarked in a post office located in Seattle, Washington . . ."

     Buggy's eyebrows knit as she reads the article over. So, the whole time she was sent on a goose chase, it ends to be a hell of a lot more than that. The mysterious person's reasoning was set on the kidnapping this whole time. (Buggy's not counting the trip to Buffalo.) They clearly knew who they were sending messages to.

     But how? Buggy thinks as she disposes the paper in the nearest overflowing trash can. Except for that photo of me on the roof, I've been very careful about how I act on my missions. Even if the person had the photo, there's not enough to identify me.

     Her train of thought is interrupted by another ding on her phone. Reaching into her pocket, Buggy sees her friend's name again. "Kind of perfect timing, don't you think?" she says to her phone.

     Now do you know?

     *Huffy sigh* Yes, yes I did. So what?

     Keeping her phone in her hand, Buggy heads back to her room. The Seattle weather is a lot colder than she assumed. And I thought only New York was early, she thinks as she looks for anything warm in her room.

     The phone rings in her hand, which Buggy knows it means Lecture "Fun" Time. She answers the phone and quietly presses it to her ear.

     "So what? So what?!" James exclaims. "Do you even know what this means?!"

     "No, not really. I can't keep up with your rapid thinking and insane theories." Finding a pair of men's boots, Buggy puts it on the bed. "My ears are open to suggestions, though."

     "Good! I'm glad you gave me permission," James says, being sarcastic. "Not only does this means the kidnappers have crossed several state lines, it means the Mistress of Disguises will be there!"

     If Buggy was in a sitcom, she'd be doing a spit take.

     "Wh-what makes you say that?" she sputters. "And how would you know that?"

     "My dear Buggy, I may be just a struggling actor, but I know the signs when I see it."

     Buggy picks up a baggy T-Shirt with a picture of little Deadpool shifting through a box of comics with the words, "I HAVE ISSUES" blazed above. Disguise or not, she appreciates funny shirts. "And what would the signs be exactly?"

     Pause. "I should have thought through my statement before I said it," James confesses. "But I have a feeling she'd follow this case to the end. And if it means going to a city so far away from New York, then she'd go there."

     "The mayor would never have made a more moving speech than what you just said," Buggy deadpans.

     "I know," James preens. "Oh God! I forgot my things in the classroom. Speaking of which, where are you? You missed the improv act."

     Buggy remembers the emails she sent to her teachers. "I'm helping my family out with something," she says lamely.

     "Didn't you say when we met that you used to live with a lot of siblings?" James questions. "The whole time I've been on the phone with you, I haven't heard anything in the background."

     Damn James and his memory. Buggy quickly thinks up of an excuse. "Uh, yeah. My parents are taking them on a couple errands right now. They won't be home for an hour or so."

     "And they decided to leave you out of it?" Suspicion creeps into James' voice.

     "I told them I can handle being alone," she defends. "I'm an adult!"

     Her friend seems to accept it by how that he hasn't pressed further. Instead, Buggy hears some shuffling around. "Ah ha!" James says. "I found them!"

     "Found what again?"

     "I told you, I left my stuff in the classroom." Buggy listens to James while she searches through her suitcase again, this time coming up with a big broad cap with a huge flat bill that seems to be the trend with boys these days. "I'd love to keep talking to you, but my shift starts in ten minutes, and I'm going to be late."

     Hanging up the phone after the good-byes, Buggy assembles her outfit together. With her small chest, she can easily pass as a boy without a help from a binding-type cloth. She opens the pockets on the suitcase lid and gets out several devices for her to use later. After a careful examination of them, she slides them into her huge jeans pocket.

     "Hopefully now's a good time to use the computer bugs," Buggy says, leaving her room for some investigating.