SPIDER-CHICA!

As the first rays of sunlight pierced through the trees, panic seized Jasmine and Raphaela. They sprinted back to the campsite, hearts pounding, only to find Mr. Cummings waiting for them. His arms were folded tightly across his chest, one foot tapping an ominous rhythm on the forest floor.

"And where exactly were you two?" His voice cut through the morning air like a knife.

"Two?" Jasmine's eyes widened as she glanced around, suddenly realizing Ben was nowhere to be seen.

Mr. Cummings' eyebrow arched. "Yes, two. Unless there were more of you sneaking out in the dead of night like wild animals?" He shook his head, a mix of disappointment and frustration etched on his face. "Thank goodness for Ben. Surprisingly well-behaved, that one. He woke me up the moment he noticed you two running off into the woods."

"Ben? But he was—" Raphaela started to expose the betrayal, but her words caught in her throat as Ben materialized from behind a nearby tree. He sucked his teeth, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

"Girls, girls," Ben tsked, his voice dripping with false concern. "Why do you do these things? I think they must be going through their rebellious stage, sir."

Mr. Cummings pinched the bridge of his nose. "I think you might be right, Mr. Hur." He took a deep breath, muttering under his breath, "Okay, calm yourself, Steve. This job is just temporary." He squared his shoulders and addressed the girls. "Alright, I'm going to end this matter here. It's not good to be this angry so early in the morning. Jasmine Richman and Raphaela Gomez, you are hereby sentenced to three days of detention, writing lines."

"But—" Jasmine protested, her face flushing with indignation.

"That's it, Miss Richman. Case closed. Good night, or rather, good morning." With that, Mr. Cummings turned on his heel and strode away, leaving a wake of stunned silence.

The moment he was out of earshot, the girls rounded on Ben, their eyes blazing with fury. Raphaela lunged forward, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. "Why would you do that?" she hissed, her voice trembling with rage.

Ben's lips curled into a smirk. "Why not? I house the embodiment of chaos, in case you've forgotten. Being angry at me is like being angry at fire for burning." He pried Raphaela's fingers from his shirt with surprising gentleness. "I can't be blamed for my own nature. Occasionally, I have a tendency to entertain myself with a little mischief. Okay?" He stepped back, spreading his arms wide. "Gosh, I am so out. I don't have time for people who can't take a joke."

With that, he sauntered away, leaving Raphaela and Jasmine rooted to the spot, their anger simmering like a pot about to boil over. The forest around them seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what would happen next in this unfolding drama of friendship, betrayal, and the unpredictable nature of growing up.

The journey home felt endless. Ben, seemingly oblivious to the girls' icy silence, prattled on about his supposed adventures as The King in Yellow's avatar. His voice droned on, detailing the countless lives he'd touched, the great works of art he'd inspired, and the multitudes who worshipped him in some far-off realm. Raphaela and Jasmine exchanged pained glances, silently wishing for any distraction—a flat tire, a sudden storm, even a minor fender-bender—anything to stem the tide of Ben's endless self-aggrandizement.

As they finally pulled up to the school, Raphaela turned to Jasmine, her eyes pleading. "Sleepover at my place?" she whispered. Jasmine nodded emphatically, grateful for any excuse to delay facing her own thoughts about the bizarre camping trip.

However, their hopes for a quiet evening of decompression evaporated the moment they stepped through Raphaela's front door. There, in the living room, sat Ben Bens Hur Junior, delicately sipping tea with Raphaela's mother, Elaina. The girls froze, their jaws dropping in perfect unison.

A creak from the staircase drew their attention. Raphaela's father, Diego, was descending slowly, a curious glint in his eye and—most alarmingly—two katanas clutched in his hands.

Elaina's face lit up at the sight of the girls. "Oh, there you are! Raphaela, Jasmine, look who came to visit—your friend, Ben Bens Hur Junior." She paused, her brow furrowing slightly. "Goodness, that's quite a mouthful. I hope I said it right?" She glanced at Ben, seeking approval.

Ben's lips curled into a warm smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "That was most perfect, Elaina."

Raphaela's voice came out as a strangled whisper. "What do you want here, Ben?"

Diego, now at the foot of the stairs, chimed in. "I was wondering the same thing. Is he the reason you've been smiling so much lately that your face hurts?"

"Ew, no!" Raphaela recoiled, her face contorting in disgust.

Jasmine, caught up in the moment, blurted out, "Have you no shame, sir?" Her outburst hung in the air, awkward and out of place.

Elaina's eyes widened in shock. "Raphaela and Diego Gomez! That is no way to talk in front of a guest! You should be ashamed of yourselves."

Ben waved a hand dismissively. "It's quite alright, Elaina."

Raphaela's eyes narrowed. "What, you're on a first-name basis now?"

Ben's smirk widened ever so slightly. "Is it so wrong to call one's sister by her name?"

"She's not my sister," Raphaela growled through clenched teeth. "She's my mother."

"Really? No way!" Ben's eyebrows shot up in exaggerated surprise. "You're pulling my leg. You look so young, Eliana. I honestly thought you were her older sister, home from college for the weekend."

As Ben spoke, a familiar glint appeared in his eyes—a spark of mischief that Raphaela and Jasmine had come to dread. It was subtle, easily missed by Elaina and Diego, who beamed at the compliment. But to the girls, it was a clear warning sign. Whatever game Ben was playing, it was far from over.

Raphaela took a deep breath, forcing a brittle smile onto her face. "I apologize for my terrible behavior earlier. Let me rephrase: What brings you to my house on this fine afternoon, Ben?"

Ben's eyes glittered with amusement as he set down his teacup. "Well, as I was telling your si— mother," he corrected himself with exaggerated care, "It's still so unbelievable! Anyway, as we were getting off the bus, I saw your phone fall out of your pocket. I tried calling after you, but you seemed locked in a heated discussion. So, I decided to be a good friend and bring it to your house."

Raphaela's brow furrowed, a mix of confusion and suspicion clouding her features. "That's... odd. I distinctly remember putting my phone in my pocket as I entered the house."

"Yeah, I saw her do it too," Jasmine chimed in, her voice thick with skepticism.

Ben's smile never wavered. "Are you sure? Why don't you check your pockets?"

With an exasperated sigh, Raphaela patted her pockets. Her hand froze as she felt the familiar shape of her phone exactly where she'd left it. She pulled it out, staring at it in disbelief. "This is ridiculous," she scoffed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He's playing us well," Jasmine muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Raphaela to hear.

Elaina's concerned voice cut through the tension. "Are you two alright? Maybe you should put your bags down and rest a bit."

Ben nodded sagely, his face a mask of concern. "Poor things must be exhausted from the trip and having to walk home in this heat. That's enough to take a toll on anyone's mental health."

"Mhmm," Elaina hummed in agreement, her eyes darting between the girls and Ben.

Raphaela's mind raced, searching for an escape. Suddenly, an idea struck her. "You know what? I think you might be right, Ben. We're going to take our stuff upstairs and rest. But don't forget your promise to take us out for ice cream later!"

"I'm coming with you!" Diego interjected, brandishing the swords with misplaced enthusiasm. "I know how these boys' minds work," he added, pointing one blade at Ben.

Elaina's patience finally snapped. "No, you are not going anywhere, Diego. And for heaven's sake, put those things away before you hurt yourself!"

Sensing the brewing storm, Raphaela made a split-second decision. "You know what? I think that's our cue to leave, Jasmine. I have a feeling things are about to heat up here. Let's just drop our bags and go." She turned to Ben, her voice tight with forced cheerfulness. "Come on, Ben! We're leaving."

Ben, however, seemed utterly unfazed by the mounting tension. He leaned back, taking another leisurely sip of tea. "What's the rush? I'm still enjoying my tea."

"Now, Ben!" Jasmine insisted, her patience wearing dangerously thin.

"Alright... alright, I'm coming," Ben sighed dramatically, rising from his seat. "Thank you for your time, Elina and Diego. It was most pleasant."

His words fell on deaf ears. Elina and Diego stood frozen, locked in a silent standoff, the air between them crackling with unspoken arguments. Sensing the impending storm, Raphaela and Jasmine each grabbed one of Ben's arms, practically dragging him out the front door.

The moment they hit the sidewalk, both girls rounded on him. "What the hell, Ben?" they shouted in unison, their voices a mix of frustration and disbelief.

Ben, however, wasn't listening. His head snapped up, nostrils flaring. "Quiet," he hissed, raising his nose to the air. "My nose is picking up something. It's coming from that house over there." He pointed to a dilapidated structure across the street, its windows dark and yard overgrown.

Raphaela's eyes widened. "Yes, that's where she lived. Do you think you can find her?"

Ben's brow furrowed in concentration. "I don't know. The scent is weak, but I'm sure there's something inside we could use."

Jasmine looked between them, bewilderment etched on her face. "No one has lived there since I moved here. Who are you two even looking for?"

"The lady in my dreams," Raphaela replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jasmine threw her hands up in exasperation. "That's insane! How can someone from your dreams live in a house where no one's been for years? And if there was someone, we would've known!"

Ben turned to her, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. "She has that effect on people. Like a memory-wiping spell. Erases all traces of herself. The only one left with any memory is the victim."

"Okay, I don't know what game you two are playing, but this isn't funny," Jasmine protested, her voice rising. "Spells? Witches? This is crazy!"

Ben's patience snapped. "Is your brain functioning, Jasmine? You're a werehyena. She's a spider. I'm just a boy—well, now an avatar boy. Why can't spells, witches, and talking dogs exist?" He shook his head, clearly done with the conversation. "I'm not going to argue this further. I have a job to do." He looked at Raphaela. "Can you please handle this situation?"

Before either girl could respond, Ben sprinted across the road with inhuman speed. In one fluid motion, he leapt through a broken window of the abandoned house, disappearing into its shadowy interior.

Raphaela turned to Jasmine, her eyes pleading. "Look, I can't explain all of this right now, but I need you to trust me. I really want my old body back." Without waiting for a response, she dashed after Ben, leaving Jasmine standing alone on the sidewalk.

For a moment, Jasmine stood there, her mind reeling from the bizarre turn of events. Part of her wanted to turn around, go home, and pretend none of this was happening. But a larger part—the part that had always been drawn to adventure and the unknown—made her decision for her.

"Argh, I don't know what to make of this either," she muttered to herself, "but I've got nothing better to do at home, so... Wait for me!" She called out, her feet already carrying her across the street towards the mysterious house.

As Jasmine approached the broken window, the overgrown yard seemed to whisper with secrets. The dilapidated house loomed before her, its empty windows like watchful eyes. She hesitated for just a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. Then, taking a deep breath, she climbed through the window, plunging into the unknown. Whatever lay ahead, she realized, her life would never be the same again.