Sykosa, Part I: Junior Year Read online

  Still, he’s such a jerk!

  “I get good grades because I do my review assignments, so do something or go sit with someone else.” He looks surprised. Niko looks happy. “And you,” she means Niko, “of all people know that a C+ is failing where I come from.”

  Niko handles this like a pro, sounding suave throughout her entire explanation. “Look, you need to calm down. I mean, I hate to agree with…” Niko’s head drops in Tom’s direction. “…but, you can’t get higher than 100%.”

  Niko’s right. She tries to relax.

  Relax.

  Mostly she’s succeeds, except for the tiny distractions. Like the noise from other groups—it multiplies, then layers, and at the end, jumbles together. Or the fluorescent lights, which magnify, then intensify and cut at her brain. It’s maybe 7.5% of the air that isn’t making it to her body. It’s complicated by her internal voices that war with each other. Her father says she can’t go to Prom since she failed the test, but that’s immaterial since Tom hasn’t asked, and her Mom is at her about her Model UN project and…

  Relax.

  The problem is that she has been lying. No one knows about her grades. Well, her parents know, but she let them down softly. That wasn’t a lie. It was a fib. Her tough voice is gone and she’s begging. “This one is extra important. My dad is mad and this will make it better.”

  Niko concedes. “Look, I’m only saying you’re the smartest chick I know. You’re practically valedictorian—valedictorian in this Academy!” Niko holds out her hands in exasperation. “This Academy, this place of God that’s so clearly controlled by the devil.” The table breaks out into laughter. Niko is quite proud of herself. Unfortunately, the laughs get the attention of their teacher, who points to his forehead. He’s referencing her headband. Niko pretends she doesn’t get it and goes back to work. “Like, you’ll do fine even if you only study tonight. You should be happy about that, not stressed. I mean, you’re such a liberal.”

  “What?”

  “A liberal, it’s what you are.”

  “Where did you get that from?”

  Niko sits up, the headband’s tails twirling like propellers. “It’s from my father!” She punches her fist in her hand, then interlocks her fingers into a stretch. “He says that a liberal is someone who feels guilty for stuff that isn’t their fault!”

  Her head collapses from her neck. “That makes no sense.”

  “Sure it does.” Niko folds one leg over the other and kicks it up and down with a smug, I’ve diagnosed the problem, let’s move on! But Niko can’t. This time their teacher has walked up to the table and pointed to his head. Niko reluctantly takes it off, folding it in her lap. “Anyhow, there’re important things that need discussing!”

  “Like what?”

  “Did you ask your parents about you-know-what?”

  Shit. “I tried, but—”

  Niko interrupts. “You forgot again?”

  Tom recalls how yesterday you-know-what was nothing-to-know, but now he-knows-different. “What do you mean?”

  Niko looks annoyed. Cat’s out of the bag now. “Every year, I go up to my family’s cottage in Coeur d’Alene, and every year, I invite Sykosa to come, and every year her parents say no, but I have faith that this year, this year, she’ll sway her father’s opinion about her crossing state lines without his presence.”

  “Well, based on my ability to convince you two to study, I think I’m definitely not going your cottage.” She stops there since she doesn’t want Niko to know that not only did she not ask, but she foolishly committed, after Tom’s invitation, to Ass Girl’s party. “Now, how about—”

  Tom interrupts. “I didn’t know you owned a cottage there. My family used to have a place there.”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s awesome and huge, and it has a swimming pool, a spa, tons of bedrooms, and a forest with tons of trails behind it. The fridge is always stocked and tons of college kids are there for spring break.” Niko freezes, her mind in thought. Sykosa likes Tom. Tom likes Sykosa. That sounded wrong. Sykosa likes Tom because she’s suffering temporary insanity. And Tom likes Sykosa, but he’s a moron. That’s better. So, if I get Tom to… Then, Sykosa will… Yeaaaaah. “Tom, you’re welcome to come this weekend!”

  He’s a bit shocked. “I am?”

  Niko acts like “duh!” “Oh, yes, you should come! I’m going there with a bunch of people! Why? Do you have other plans?”

  “Nothing, I was gonna finish a video game and maybe watch a couple of movies.”

  He didn’t mention Ass Girl’s party.

  Why didn’t he mention it? Is he lying for me?

  Niko doesn’t care. She’s being sarcastic. “Now I don’t know if you can come.”

  “Why?”

  “Is the movie Titanic?”

  “Ugh, no.”

  “Alright, you can go. It’s just I’d never separate someone from that movie.”

  He cackles. “Okay.”

  Niko smiles, satisfied with leaving him confounded. “Sykosa will tell you, I’ve seen it way too many times.”

  True dat, and if she has to see it once more—and she’s seen it plenty since Niko’s father mailed back the pirated VHS from Japan—then she’ll birth an entirely new stress syndrome. The “girls, stop being so predictable and stupid” syndrome. The doctors will call it “Sykosa Syndrome.” It’s catchier that way. The movie is alright though. The boy is cute. And his sketch of Win-slut is the only “okay” porno she has ever seen. Really, it was lengthy. Granted, if she were ever on a sinking boat, she would want—without question—to stay afloat far longer. That said, as she sat in the movie theater while that giant hull lifted into a teeto-totter upswing—the passengers sliding along the deck like shuffleboard pucks—she felt…nothing.

  A boat sank, who cares?

  For Niko, it’s a filthy and passionate affair. Slumming with the poor boy (who happens to be dreamy) and letting him rip off her brassier and fuck her rich cunt. Then, while love still has bearing, he’s swept away, telling her to “never let go” and then himself freezing solid. This way Niko can feel eternally in love without ever earning it. Plus, Niko keeps the awesome necklace! How typical of Niko, as Niko loves no one more than Niko, and Niko hates no one more than Niko. And I love Niko. Thus, seeing Titantic as a story about romance disgusts her.

  Tom agrees. “Don’t worry, I think Titanic sucks.”

  If Niko’s skin had daggers like a porcupine, they’d be half stiff. “Be careful, it’s unwise to mindlessly say things like that about my favorite movie.”

  He laughs. “Why?”

  “Because I’ll beat your ass.”

  “Will you?”

  The boy with vampire hair speaks up. “She will.”

  “Look who finally speaks! Tell me, how will she do that?”

  “Her headband said Aikido.”

  Niko gasps! How did he know?

  Tom is unimpressed. “What’s that?”

  “It’s the art of using an opponent’s strength against them.”

  Niko has found her breath. “It is.”

  Tom is hesitant. “You can kick ass?”

  Vampire Hair answers for her. “She can.”

  Niko sighs. Aw, you’re so adorable, you undead fiend! She doesn’t understand. He isn’t as cute as Hazu, he isn’t as smart as Hazu, he isn’t Hazu at all, yet her tummy is upside-down. Weird. “Well, I don’t like to brag or nothing!”

  Tom feels intimidated. A girl he would fuck shouldn’t be stronger than him, and while Sykosa is Grade A, he thinks about fucking Niko, like he does all girls. Thus, all girls should be weaker than him. No, he didn’t mean that. He meant… Never mind. “Look, this weekend sounds awesome, but—”

  Niko interrupts. “It is! And we have huge parties! They’re so much fun and we get so drunk!”

  Tom knows of Niko’s reputation, and he remembers all the buzz in the Academy over Niko’s Coeur d’Alene party last year, but he thought that stuff was overplayed. “I don’t know.
It’s short notice.”

  Sykosa’s filled with…well, still blackness, but also relief. The thought of him out at Niko’s cottage, by himself, with all those slutty college girls who fuck so carelessly you’d think their legs were a set of separating doors at the mall, is too much. I… I need him and if he does something like that… Let’s put it this way, and she doesn’t like sounding old and farty, but she hates girls who use the notion that love should be free as an excuse to be a whoreface. To expand on that, she hates hates hates any girl who would use the notion that love is free to be a whoreface for Tom.

  How am I gonna go to Prom otherwise?

  Niko ruins this relief. “Well, if your mom calls my mom, it’ll work out fine.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I’ll pretend to be my mom, and I’ll convince your mom it’s alright.”

  “Why would you need to pretend to be your mother?”

  Niko smiles so big all her teeth are visible. “Because we’re going there by ourselves!”

  “……………” That’s really what he says. Try it. It makes noise, specifically the noise of his head making all the connections. Parts of Niko’s reputation are true. If this is true, and I go and Sykosa goes and there are no parents, then we’ll be by ourselves and we’ll… Yeaaaaah. This is perfect! He has been trying to get her to go home with him after school for a little while, so they could be together away from the chapel. Don’t get him wrong, action is action, but they long ago pushed the limits of what can be done back there. “I want to go! Do you think you could get Sykosa’s parents to let her go?”

  “That’s not even necessary! Sykosa practically lives at my house—they won’t check, but someone…” Niko’s head drops in Sykosa’s direction. “…won’t ever ask!”

  “You won’t?”

  It’s not that easy, which Tom knows, but since she guesses he doesn’t, or doesn’t want to, she explains it. “Well, it’s—”

  He interrupts. “Come on, all Niko wants is for you to ask.”

  Of course, he interrupted. He doesn’t care.

  Relax.

  She bargains. “Let’s just finish this, you guys…” No one says anything. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, not this year. Next year I’ll make a push, okay?” The wall-mounted clock steals her attention. Class is almost over, and I’ve got nothing done! All the stuff with her lungs and her eyesight are still going on, by the way. A new one lets itself be known. An anxiety that has energy enough to build a city. It comes uncontrollably in and out. Today is gonna suck so bad! And she speaks. She curses, afterwards. “Besides, we committed to attending another party this weekend.”

  Niko’s neck jerks. “Don’t tell me you’re talking about Ass Girl’s party? You can’t go to her party and not come to mine! That’s the shittiest thing you could do.”

  “Niko, my parents have never let me go to your cottage, even the years your mother actually took you.”

  Niko is unappeased. “Like-that-matters.”

  The franticness plummets to a valley where she only wants to cry. Relax. The Pep Squad doesn’t need to assemble. They need to charge forth! Hurry, you fuckers! It’s far too early. It’ll get worse before the day is out. “Look, if we start working on this, then I will ask, but think of it this way: if I don’t get an A, I’ll be attending a super exclusive party this weekend, and it’ll be in my bedroom by myself.”

  IV.

  Twenty minutes ago, some teacher in some class laid out some scientific method of learning. His useless information got bigger, longer, more complicated, and well…she took out notebook paper, a pen, and she broke it down into the A) 1) a) b) B) 1) a) 2) a) b) 1b) 3). Kinda useless, as her notes were like her life. It started out thorough, but became sketchy, then jumbled until her attention dissipated into the green ocean of unused chalkboard. Outside, the sun shines. Inside, there’s only darkness. The blackness is hard to describe, as it’s more than symptoms. It’s a nothing that becomes everything there is. And what one sees is only a fraction of the trauma inflicted. It can get so bad that she literally goes black, and she wakes up seconds, minutes, hours—who knows—later, to the silence, and the shame, and the…

  That’s an extreme example.

  For now, it’s made her debilitatingly claustrophobic.

  She tells her teacher she has “girl problems.”

  She keeps the hall pass visible, should Mother Superior, the vice-principal, or whoever wonder why she walks down the main hallway toward a jackknifing auxiliary hallway that ends at the gym and the pool, which smells like crotch and bleach. Like always, the cola machine’s compressor covers the snap of the key that turns over. Outside, there’s only darkness. Inside, the light is a drippy yellow, down a causeway, and upon an open space with three individual sinks below three individual mirrors beside a row of stalls. Above, a smoke detector hangs by a uncut wire. Straight ahead are the Queens, whose shoddy voices sound clear now that the door has auto locked shut.

  First off, a lot of information is about to be dumped on you and, unlike Sykosa, you may want to take good notes.

  This bathroom is off limits.

  Last year, the Administration discovered it was a hideout for Academy girls and, upon inspection, found the trifecta of evil for female parochial students: drugs, pregnancy tests, and eye makeup. Immediately, the bathroom was locked. No biggie, right? Wrong. What the Administration, particularly Mother Superior, never suspected was that Donna Harly used this bathroom the most. Donna was a lot of things. Primarily, she was a drug addict. Her coke binges were so legendary that she was nicknamed the “Yeti.” Also, she was Prom Committee President, which is huge at the Academy, and as PCP, her many responsibilities meant she had a master key, which opened this bathroom, which meant she had it copied for a few friends, one of whom was Niko.

  Presently, maybe eight girls are aware of its existence.

  Forget it. Thinking about this will wake the Pep Squad.

  Back on track. Pay attention, because this gets complicated!

  Like America itself, the student body at the Academy is subconsciously split by race, a fact everyone would deny if asked. One of these groups belongs to Niko, and it’s named the “Queens” (derogatorily known as the “Bukkake Queens”). Its inner core is Niko, Sykosa, and a gang of girls secondarily known as the “Star Sluts” because their boyfriends are in the Speed Stars. Specifically, the Sluts are like a naval fleet. They look somewhat different, but alike nonetheless.

  SS1: A corn-fed Asian, like Sykosa, which is an Asian face with white hips, breasts, and legs.

  SS2: A conventional Asian, like Niko, which is short, flat, and narrow.

  SS3: A traditional Asian, which, to put it mildly, is reserved. She is also clearly Thai.

  The other major group belongs to the white girls who’re called the “Bitches” (derogatorily known as the “Cokehead Bitches”). Its inner core—and leadership—is shared between Mackenzie, Jessica, and Ass Girl. That’s this year, though. Last year, the unquestioned ruler of the Bitches was Donna Harly. Also, last year, everyone was in the Bitches. Including me. What happened was that Donna and Niko had a falling out. Consequently, Niko organized the Asian girls into the Queens. Before that, this bathroom was exclusively Cokehead Bitch territory, and it mostly still is, as crazy white girls who’re, by the way, so obsessed with weight that lunch is replaced by cocaine and diet pill “Cocktails” are in no shortage.

  Somehow, and this confuses her, the Bitches snort some lines and remain themselves, but if she—being Sykosa—draws a line along her thumb, then she becomes another coked-out rice-vag—Donna’s term, not hers—like the ones their white fathers abuse on their business trips to Asia. Lots of white girls think the Queens are whores. There’re also rumors that Sykosa and Niko are gay for each other, which is untrue, as is the cocaine use. She would never do cocaine, simply because it scares her. Niko would never do cocaine, simply because Niko promised to stop.

  Niko is excited. “Sykosa, help m
e out. I’m telling the girls they need to come to my cottage this weekend. Let them know it will be totally awesome!”

  “It will be totally awesome.”

  SS1 is up against the mirror. She fluffs her hair right, then left, then right, and finally left. “Are you going?”

  SS2 has put herself on her tiptoes, looking in the mirror too. “Yeah, are you going?”

  She’s freed her pack of smokes. “I’m not sure yet.”

  Niko is unmoved by this. “Look, we had a killer bash last year. What part of it don’t you guys want to do again?”

  SS1 giggles. “What I remember is that we had that big bash and then the entire Academy had a meltdown!”

  SS2 giggles too. “The entire Academy!”

  “Meltdown” refers to the fight, which didn’t happen the Monday after Niko’s big bash, but the Monday after Prom. It’s the kind of detail people often overlook. It’s the kind of subject no one brings up. It contributes to the blackness. She knows it will come. She had hoped a cigarette and a shit might helped. Upon this failure, that socializing would be a sufficient substitute. Although, not all news is bad.

  If the Sluts blow off Niko this weekend, then she can too!

  Niko is annoyed. “Please! Like it’s my fault that Mike Holler went off the deep end!” Then, Niko holds out her hand at Sykosa until she has a cigarette. “Besides, why do you all want to stay here? We should leave the Stars behind!”

  Obviously, this is what the argument was about.

  Hazu, who dates Ass Girl, is committed to Ass Girl’s party, like I am, and where Hazu goes, the Stars go, and the Sluts follow. How did this Ass Girl dynamic emerge? In January, she transferred in from Texas and, in a short series of months, has infiltrated Niko’s post-Donna social theocracy. As you know, it involved Hazu, whom Niko was dating before Ass Girl arrived, and whom Niko is madly in love with.

  It’s why Niko wants to have this party so bad.

  You see, after the “meltdown,” everyone assumed there’d be no Coeur d’Alene party this year. It just caused too many problems—and if word got to Mother Superior, then major hell would unleash itself. But, to combat Ass Girl, Niko knows no bounds and is trying to rapidly organize this thing (Niko only had the idea two days ago) in hopes that it will cause problems in the Stars, drive Hazu insane, and if luck holds, destroy Ass Girl’s party all together.