“And she totally lost it all on Saturday! She put huge guys—humongous, I tells ya—to shame. One was one of those tough guys who smashes the empty can on his forehead.”
“Really?”
“She not only out drank him, she drank it faster!”
“Really?”
“Then, she went crazy! She was, like, yelling at the walls.”
“Really?”
“I’m telling you, Donna Harly is insane.”
See! Niko2.0’s a way-boring, pro-Donna Harly propaganda machine. Well, usually. Either way, she’s so disinterested that simple things—like holding the phone—require a balancing act between her shoulder, chin and face. She looks like one of those paralyzed people who breathe through tubes. That’s just her. Most people are captivated. You see, Niko2.0’s transformation was kinda incredible. It was precise, yet organic, transparent, yet clairvoyant, and Niko executed it with such legitimacy that it obliterated Niko1.0. As was Niko’s intention. It wasn’t as easy as that. Like all assimilations, there were sacrifices, or Rules, which demanded Niko tame her hair, change her wardrobe, alter her manner of speech, and pack her chest with tissue.
The fake tits are the worst. It’s Niko’s Scarlet Letter.
It tells girls, “I’m worthless.”
It tells boys, “I’m desperate.”
It tells teachers, “I’m dumb.”
It tells Niko1.0’s friends, “I’m untrustworthy.”
And so no one does, and no one blames them. I don’t. Even a na•ve brat like herself, one who hates Model UN and sucks at political science, recognizes indoctrination. The Rules serve one purpose: to drain each Bitch into a compliant zombie. The issue is that Niko can’t be a compliant anything. After all, an alpha is an alpha, and while Niko2.0 suppresses that, it’s nonetheless confused the biological predispositions of the betas around her.
In layman’s terms:
Since joining the Bitches, all of Niko’s pursuits have failed, including her attempts to circumvent Rule #1: Bitches only associate with other Bitches.
“I can’t believe that. I never thought Donna was like that.”
“Seriously, yelling-at-the-walls. It happened. Hazu saw it.”
“Hazu? He was there?”
“Yeah, I invited him to come.”
First off… “I thought you two weren’t dating any longer.”
“We’re not, but we’re still friends.”
Second off… “You invited just him?”
“Well, him and his entire gang, and their girlfriends!”
This weekend Niko took the Bitches, the boys, and what she guesses was a bunch of other people, to Coeur d’Alene, where Niko had, what Niko already promises will be, an annual bash. Niko did invite her, and Niko even said, “Please try to come!” and “I want you to be there!” but she assumed it was a ceremonial invitation. No joke: Bitches only associate with other Bitches. Niko insisted the contrary, saying, “Ask your mother, please!” and “It’s gonna be awesome!” She asked her mother. Her mother said no.
No way, I don’t believe it!
Actually, she was pleased. She had zero desire to get served up and sold out to Donna Harly like a lamb to the slaughter.
Had she known this…
The news jolts her. She’s sitting on her bedside, organizing her art supplies before her mother sees the mess. “Donna was okay with that?”
Niko takes a deep breath. “Um, yeah.”
“But, that’s not how it usually works, is it?”
Niko giggles. “Um, yeah.”
“She changed her mind?”
“Um, she didn’t get the chance. I sorta didn’t tell her.”
She’s holds the phone with her shoulder again. She needs two hands to place her markers. She’s a bit OCD, so the colors need to be in the same order as they’re on the box. “You didn’t?”
“Nope! And I have a confession!”
Niko almost squeals like a pig. A bit gitty for a confession.
“What?”
“I cut my hair and I dyed it.”
No shit. “What does it look like?”
“It’s about at my collar and the tips are blond.”
That sounds cool. “But, the Rules! Did you ask Donna?”
“Not exactly. I mean, I may have mentioned it in passing.”
Okay, slow down.
Sure, by noise alone, Niko’s fallen on her bed, and knowing Niko, she’s in a state of marginal dress, like a thong (that I so wish was mine!) and no top (she doesn’t stuff her bra when alone, duh!), and while this suggests that Niko’s pleased by her badness, rest assured, nothing is further from the truth. Hard as it may be to believe, this is the first Niko1.0 thing Niko’s done in months. It’s logical, too. Niko had a weekend to rival all weekends, and it fried her brain, so she cut her hair, maybe even bought a new wardrobe since she burnt all her Bitches clothes (you made that up), but that’s all it is, and that’s all it ever will be. (Damn straight). Tomorrow, at school, Niko will fall back in line.
In the end, Niko2.0 likes being Niko2.0.
And I just confused magenta and pink.
She starts over in case it happened somewhere else.
“What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you liked being in the Bitches.”
Niko is fast. “I do.”
“Just…?”
“Since I’ve joined, like, everything has changed.”
It has.
All the major parties happen at Niko’s, including post-Prom, even though Niko’s not attending Prom. Niko also provides pot or booze for free, then pimps out the mansion’s bedrooms like it was a sleazy motel; or in Donna’s case has basically allowed her, and by extension Mike Holler, their own bedroom. As a result, Niko’s life has turned into a free-for-all. And Niko’s life might’ve always been, had Nana not been there to set limits.
Lately, there don’t seem to be any.
“Just stop for a second, Niko.”
Niko stops. “What?”
“I gotta ask, how you are getting away with this?”
“What do you mean?”
The markers are done, but the OCD persists. All the caps aren’t the same height. This particular set requires brawn. She pushes on the cap. It doesn’t snap in place. Those markers are removed from the sleeve, and they’re being stabbed into the nightstand. “Like this weekend, Nana let you do all this stuff?”
Niko giggles again. “Um, she wasn’t there.”
“What?”
“She didn’t go. She was ill.” Niko steamrolls forward. While this conversation may feel organic, it’s nothing of the sort, and Niko is intent on hitting all her major points. “As I was saying, everything’s changed, but the real change is Scott. I’m the one who knew him, not Donna, and this weekend, he realized that.”
“What?”
“Scott’s my boyfriend now.”
And an enigma.
Niko speaks of Scott frequently, but her praise usually lacks any and all specifics, like he is a cult leader. “Scott’s the best!” “Scott knows stuff about life.” “Scott gets things done!” “Scott speaks to the space aliens from across the Milky Way!” (She made one of those up…maybe). Also, in the fall, he had a fling with Donna that ended badly. According to Niko, both were cool about it, but then Donna got desperate to get Scott back, which means Niko got desperate to make Scott her own. Don’t judge, it’s not cruelty that fuels Niko, but the spirit that drives any understudy to be an…over study. Yeah, um, point is, Niko sees winning Scott as a tribute to Donna and not a “here I am shitting on your face,” fuck you.
Of course, Donna sees it as the latter.
Everyone else sees it as suicide.
“This weekend?”
Niko wears a quite-proud-of-herself smile. “Like I thought and I don’t think Donna liked it.”
“Why?”
“It was his name she was yelling at the walls.”
Forget the markers.
&nb
sp; She just got hit with the flu. Or something worse.
It’s like her entire body started to work against itself. And it fill her with a warning in her every corner. Individually, all of these occurrences Niko described sound almost innocent, but as a collective, each seems bent on the minimization of Donna, while intentionally jabbing Donna over it. It should be zero surprise then, at least to Niko, that Donna lost it at a wall and probably other things, too, as what Donna was witnessing was a new Niko-centric scene, which means Niko’s…
No, that’s not possible.
Niko2.0 likes being Niko2.0.
“Um, where’s this coming from?”
“Where’s what coming from?”
She won’t fall for that. Niko’s planning something.
That’s why I feel sick. “These thoughts about Donna and…”
Niko gets proper. “Well, I got some great news today.”
“What?”
“I talked to my mom. She wants to come home.”
Well, there you go. She’s not sick anymore. Or she is, but it’s the queasiness that happens when too much good stuff happens at once. And it’s welcome. When Kana left, that was bad stuff— really, really bad stuff. Since it was Kana who started Niko2.0, it could be Kana who ends the 2.0. With Kana back, Niko might feel safe being herself.
She’s abandoned the markers, her hand against her chest.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes, I’m certain. It’s going to happen this time.”
“That’s fantastic. I could cry.”
“I know. I cried for an hour.”
“What do you feel? Are you ready for this?”
Niko sound tepid. “I’m happy, but I’m in a weird place.”
Hm. Déjˆ vu.
“What?”
To that, Niko cannot speak, but when Niko feels that place, she breaks into goose bumps. Kinda like she just did, and in her closet, Niko exchanges her thong for an extra-long tee. Before that, Niko fondled her tiny breasts while imagining having big ones. It forces Niko to open one of her many drawers. Inside it lies her bra-stuffing crap. Her techniques have evolved this year, so there’s lots of abandoned stuff from earlier generations that’s pushed aside until Niko finds some tackle weights. (It’s what fishermen use). Niko’s current breasts are gel packs that sell well in Japan. They do the job, but they’re super light, so while her fake boobs work for the world, they don’t for Niko.
Niko wants the full experience of breasts.
“Everything needs to change.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Could you be more specific?”
“I think we need to send Donna a message.”
“What message is that?”
“That things will be different. Certain Rules will…cease.”
Impossible. The Rules may be Donna’s, but they’ve long been integral to the Academy’s culture. Every girl in school rolls her skirt and pulls her blouse to Rules’ requirements. One has to do it and do it without thought or question.
“I don’t know if you can do that.”
Niko’s not listening. She’s putting stuff in her drawer, then tossing some dirty clothes from her weekend in the corner. “I found something out.”
“What?”
“Donna’s the one who gave Jessica the nickname ‘Cow.’”
Oh, no… The happy queasiness has turned into the full-on flu again. “But that doesn’t mean—”
Niko interrupts. “Donna’s behind the rumors about us and that shit against me when my mother left—it’s her.”
“Why? She asked you to join the Bitches.”
Niko pauses, like she debates telling the truth. Then, Niko lies. “Trust me, I’m sure. I have a source, and it’s a good one.”
“You trust this person?”
The doubt annoys Niko. No one trusts her. “Look, Donna’s personality is concocted for the Academy. In truth, she has got issues and they’ve, like, overtaken her. She can barely swim and she’s forgotten major Prom details.”
“So?”
“Her friends are turning against her.”
“And what does that mean?”
Niko turns off her closet light. “I see an opportunity here.”
“And that’s what this ‘message’ is?”
“Yes.”
It’s also a bad idea. As this is bad intelligence.
Info of this type never leaks on Donna. The Bitches are like a secret society. It’s cool to be in, but what’s really cool is the inner circle, and whoever spilled the beans either, A) misrepresented the situation, or, B) did so without full disclosure of Niko’s intent. Simply, Donna’d never throw Jessica under the bus—only a total nutcase would turn her guns on her own soldiers. So this talk, it better be pontification—cause Niko’s popular and has always been, but Niko’s never been organized, nor has Niko ever had a mean streak like Donna’s.
Niko’s a happy-go-lucky person, like in those photos.
Or, that is to say, Niko1.0 was.
And to a lesser extent, so was Niko2.0.
Whatever Niko is now, it isn’t defiant. It’s vengeful. And I’m an idiot. Think about it. Maybe with Kana back, Niko will feel safe being Niko1.0. Or maybe Niko is neither Niko1.0 or 2.0.
Then, the question becomes… Who is this?
She’s finished with her markers, but started on nothing new. “Niko, are you doing this on purpose?”
“Yes.”
Wow. That was straight-forward.
“Can I ask why?”
“Donna thinks she can do anything to anybody.”
She’s glad Niko finally sees that. She’s less glad about Niko’s reaction to it. “That’s why we hated Donna before you became, you know, her friend, but you can’t do this.”
“Why not? Donna would do it to you—to anyone.”
“That gives you an excuse to do the same?”
“No, but we have to be as strong as her.”
“She’s not strong. Can’t you see that?”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“Niko, I want you to talk to Mother Superior.”
“No.”
“Then, at least talk to your mother.”
“Why?”
What a stupid question.
“Because do you know who you sound like?”
“Who?”
“You sound like Donna Harly.”
In a way, Niko knows that, and in another way, she doesn’t care. And she’s on her bed again, nursing her achy joints. It was a rough weekend. Her goals were accomplished, but… Like, it needed to sacrifice. One sacrifice was bigger than the Rules. It was something Niko didn’t expect. And it cannot be taken back. So there’s no turning back. That makes Niko lonely, and she looks to her nightstand. It’s a picture. On a beach, Kana has a fruity drink with an umbrella, and Niko has an umbrella OJ meant to mimic; mimicked no longer.
The booze turns Niko brave. It does that now.
She swallows in gulps. “I can’t do it alone. I need allies.”
She shakes her head. “No way. It’ll put a target on me.”
“It won’t be a target.”
“Yes, it will.”
“I’ll make sure it isn’t.”
“Niko, even you can’t make that happen.”
“But, if I could…”
“You can’t.”
“But, if I could…”
Above her desk, Niko and her are in Girl Scout outfits. She is bored. Niko looks confused. (They quit a few weeks later). Slightly higher, Niko and her are at a swim meet. Niko has too big goggles hung like a necklace. I look like I’ve got a monster wedgie. Beside that, she sits at Niko’s ninth birthday in awe of the presents. In the center, Niko and her are, from a few weeks ago, dressed up for Sadie Hawkins while, sprinkled throughout, she has stenciled words like: “Love,” “Friends,” and “Joy.”
Her urge to create this collage finds its origin.
It’s not a monument. It�
��s a tombstone.
I’m gonna regret this.
“You’ve got to promise that you won’t put a target on me.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Then what do you need?”
“Two things. The first is you absolutely have to be at post-Prom this weekend.” Niko hacks to interrupt an interruption. “You’re not going to the dance, I know, but it’s how I’m getting you into the Bitches.”
Her stomach falls to her toes. “Into the Bitches?”
“Yes.”
“Um, it takes more than a party to get into the Bitches.”
“That’s the second part. And you’re not gonna like it.”
“What is it?”
“Tomorrow, Mackenzie’s going to announce a special tryout for Ladies Swim, and you’re signing up for it.”
3.
Her mother is overjoyed about swim. Or, politically speaking, her mother is overjoyed about valedictorian and its renewed viability. It’s uncanny. Only her mother can make, “I knew you would get on the team,” sound like, “I know everything!” So she does all she can. Watch traffic, hum radio songs, and stomach it with the silent treatment. Or else we’ll fight again, and I’m supposed to be forgiving her. Throughout this, her soggy panty elastic impresses her skin. She pulls it and it burns, just as this duffle-bag does a hole in her heart. Once in her bedroom, she unzips it to find this month’s Seventeen, some eye shadow, and be still her heart!, a black thong and bra set, lined in pink lace, alongside matching garter and thigh-highs.
She really likes this lingerie.
And it’s finding its way onto her body.
Despite the physical discrepancies, Niko’s clothes usually fit her, albeit sometimes with a struggle and never with blue jeans. Bras are also impractical, but practical isn’t her mindset. Still, her nipples don’t fit, but before she critiques that, she softens the angle of her desk lamp, and at her mirror, she bunches her breasts, bares her breasts, shakes her breasts, and works her ass over, including when she puts her head between her knees. She puts her school uniform back on to see what it’d feel like to wear this to school, then an outfit she might wear to a party, one she might wear on a date, and finally she puts on her Sadie Hawkins gown.
She really likes this lingerie.
And she is tired of this game.
The thong is on her right ankle, and her legs are spread so that her spit-laced finger can turn her clitoris in spit-laced circles. It’s a good pace, and she stays there until she plateaus,
Sykosa, Part I: Junior Year Page 13