Sykosa, Part I: Junior Year

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Sykosa, Part I: Junior Year Page 30

by Justin Ordoñez


  He has a girlfriend.

  But, why can’t I let Mackenzie go?

  As for Timmy and Niko, they crouch together by the engine.

  “Baby, please just let me finish.”

  He insists. “No, I can do it. Let me.”

  “Fine.”

  He does it. “Alright, what’s next?”

  “This right there.”

  Timmy waits. “Niko?”

  She’s so defeated—she could die! “Please, just do it!”

  “No, wait, I wanted to say… Well, thank you.”

  “What?”

  “Thanks for fixing my van. I love you, girl.”

  This time Niko is dumbstruck. “Thanks?”

  Timmy forgets he said it. “You said this right here?”

  “Yeah.”

  He does that, too. “Okay, what’s next?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Turn it on.”

  He’s in the drivers seat. The engine is loud on start. “Yeah baby, I knew it! I knew it!” Louder is his stereo. He’s pumped it up in triumph. All them bitches. All them hoes. It stirs everyone awake. “What did I tell you all? What did I say?” No one knows. He knows. “I said it wasn’t a problem, and it wasn’t a problem. I handled my business!” He pounds his chest, howls to the moon, then screams into the backseat. “Who’s da man? Huh, suckers? Who’s da man?”

  SS2 shouts! “Niko!”

  XIV.

  The students kneel in pews, fingers folded over fingers in worship as the Monsignor, dressed in robes, goes in peace to love and serve the Lord. Cotton mesh kneelers are kicked forward with little order and bang like distant buck shots. Followed by the shimmy shaker salsa of hundreds of cotton uniforms in a procession of rows, from back to front, towards the exit. The whispers start. The whispers multiply. In the lobby, it happens. The teachers, in professional attire, attach themselves to the stragglers. This is no surprise, people. We have Monday mass every week. It’s time for class and not congregation.

  She congregates, anyway.

  Herself and Niko and Mackenzie and Ass Girl and the Sluts by a painting of the Virgin Mary. Jessica, or “Cow,” needs to flee the chapel since Prom Committee has a daily meeting. It’s just as well, the Queens should always outnumber the Bitches.

  It’s the truth.

  Ass Girl shivers. “I can’t believe it’s so cold! It was so hot this weekend! You guys need a better heating system.”

  Mackenzie’s got this. “They want to, but it’s impossible without destroying part of the building, and you can’t do that! Our chapel is too important.”

  Mackenzie’s mother is head of the PTAA (Parent-Teacher Academy Association). It’s called the PTAA, instead of the PTA, for the same reason prom is Prom. As Niko said: “Because we’re special!” But, that’s not what Niko says. “Who cares how much it costs? Look at my hands!” Everyone does look at Niko’s hands. It seems, at first glance, that Niko only wants to gloat about her shiny, new (definitely Personal Code violating French manicure; however, closer examination shows, sure enough, tiny red rivers have surfaced upon the prevailing beige.

  Ass Girl is distraught on her face. Her hands look the same. “I never noticed! Do you guys think that, like, this is medically okay? Or do we need to see the nurse?”

  No one has a response for that.

  Mackenzie tries. “We’ll be fine.”

  “This stuff doesn’t happen in Texas. I’m so unprepared.”

  Niko is confused. “Unprepared for what?”

  Ass Girl forgot. Oh, never mind, she remembers! “Like, you’d think they’d make makeup for this. Yo, Sykosa, you’re smart, what do you think about it?”

  I don’t.

  She hides her annoyance. “It’s impossible. It would rub off.”

  “Uh-uh!” Ass Girl raises her finger. “They could make it non-rub off makeup. Why couldn’t they do that?”

  That statement nearly keels her over her grumpy self. As it is, her eyes lose traction and fall out, to roll beneath Ass Girl’s skirt. Say what stupid things Ass Girl will, she has a nice ass. A nice ass which bottlenecks at her waist, then opens up at her All American double Ds, up towards her elegant neck and finishes with an all-Holy combination of platinum blond on blue iris.

  Basically, Ass Girl’s got Barbie puking in the toilet.

  And a bit more than that. School has only been in session for fifty-five minutes, yet the gossip has already circulated far and wide—this weekend the senior boys listed the twenty hottest girls at the Academy. The entire list hasn’t leaked yet, but word is that Ass Girl debuted #1, SS1 was #3, and in what baffles her, she was #11. Niko wasn’t on the list. Boys are so predictable. What’s also predictable is no one will bring it up, and everyone knows it’s gonna start some shit.

  She ignores the elephant, too.

  “But, it’d have to be, like, industrial strength to work at all.”

  Ass Girl is beat. “I don’t know, but I want them to make it!”

  SS1 rubs her hands to counter her pastiness. “Why do you have something against them making that?”

  SS2’s teeth chatter. “Sykosa, what’s up? It’s a cool idea!”

  Morons!

  She ignores them, as she has all morning, to glance around for Tom. Last night, he spent the duration of the ride beside her in the back row. She leaned against him, and he put his arm around her, and eventually she fell asleep to the rhythm of her thumbed bra strap. At Niko’s, they hugged before Niko drove her home. At home, her mother offered no hugs, but wanted about thirty gazillion questions answered. She apologized for being late, then lied that Kana flew out at Spokane and Niko and her had to drive home alone. Upstairs, she realized she stole his hoodie, the one smelling like him, or more accurately Mackenzie. She slept in it. And that made her feel warm.

  She wishes she had it now since she cannot have him.

  In the interim, she decides to stop being a bitch, even though she’s right, it would totally rub off. “I’ve been wanting to try these new color-changing contacts. I heard you don’t even need to have bad eyesight, you just can wear them.”

  Ass Girl is excited! “I love those!”

  “Oh, you have them?”

  “Can’t you tell? My eyes are green today instead of blue!”

  Truth be told, when she did that whole description of Ass Girl, she never noticed Ass Girl’s eyes. That part was from memory. The part about Ass Girl’s ass? That was thoroughly verified. I’m such a perv. “Oh yeah, they look great!”

  Ass Girl is cheerful. “I’m testing colors so my eyes won’t contrast my prom dress.”

  SS1 loves that! “I never thought of that.”

  SS2 loves that, too! “We never thought of that.”

  Morons! She writes a mental note to think of it. “What does it look like?”

  “It’s… Well, you should come over sometime to see it.”

  Um. “Okay.”

  “It’s too bad you’re not going to Prom!”

  “Actually, I’m going.”

  “Really? With whom?”

  “Tom.”

  “Tom who?”

  There’re other Toms? “Uh…”

  “Mackenzie’s Tom?”

  No, not Mackenzie’s Tom. “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

  Mackenzie giggles nervously. Obviously, Mackenzie thought he was Mackenzie’s Tom, too. What she never thought was how much Sykosa would slut it up this weekend. That’s fine. Boys fall for whores, but they don’t love them. Mackenzie knows Tom will get bored when his new toy loses its luster. Mackenzie knows, deep in her soul, that she’ll win. “I thought you told me he hadn’t asked.”

  “He asked after I told you.”

  “He did?”

  Her eyes roll. Yeah, when he told you we were dating! God, the delusions Mackenzie tells herself. “Yeah, he did.”

  Ass Girl is excited! “You should come with Mackenzie and me and our dates, you know, in our limo!”

 
She stumbles. “Su…sure, I don’t think Tom would—”

  Mackenzie interrupts. “I’ll tell him the details.”

  “I bet you guys are cute together!”

  Since Ass Girl mentioned it, they are. “Thanks.”

  Ass Girl contains her curiosity. Like, why did Sykosa say yes to Tom? Does Sykosa have a secret crush? Oh, the possibilities set Ass Girl afire. She needs to know what Sykosa thinks about Tom, then “coincidentally” get in a conversation with Tom to compare findings. “Hey, I didn’t even know that you knew Tom that well.”

  She puts the piece of her hands between her pointer finger and thumbs along her book bag straps and yanks. “We’ve been, like, er, talking for some time, him and me.”

  SS1 giggles. “Talking, ha!”

  SS2 crouches close to Niko to share heat. “Yeah, talking!”

  Niko looks pissed. “Shh!” Then, she cups her hand over SS2’s ear and whispers a message that SS2 then whispers to SS1. “Not in front of the white girls.”

  Ass Girl pouts, uncomfortable to be outside of the inside joke. “That’s cute! Do you think that he likes you likes you?”

  “Likes you likes you” means non-deniable affection of the semi-committal sort. “Well, he’s my boyfriend.”

  Mackenzie looks like she joined Barbie at the toilet. That is sorta odd. He told her about us, didn’t he? Or maybe he pulled the famous boy cop-out. The, “he told her, but didn’t tell her,” trick. She feels like a bitch. She has no reason to doubt him.

  Don’t let Mackenzie destroy your relationship!

  Ass Girl notices. “How long have you been dating?”

  “A few months.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this!”

  I was supposed to? “Oh, well, we kept it a secret.”

  “Yeah, a big secret! You’ve been seeing Tom longer than I’ve been seeing Hazu!” That brings up a good topic! “We celebrated our three-month anniversary!” By the way, if Ass Girl knows that Hazu and Niko were dating before she moved here, Ass Girl does a brilliant job of hiding it. “Look what he got me!” It’s a diamond tennis bracelet that’s back up her blouse. It also violates the Personal Code. “Isn’t it sweet?” Quiet. I’m bragging too much! “Well, I want to take you dress shopping, Sykosa!”

  “Thank you, but I already have my dress picked out.”

  “You’re like me, better to be prepared!”

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  Niko is tired of this stupid bitch.

  Time for revenge.

  “By the way, how was your party this weekend?” Gossip says that Ass Girl’s party was a let down. Without the Sluts, half of the Stars no-showed, which means voices said, over cell phones, “This party is lame. What’s going on where you are?” It reminds Niko that the Academy belongs to her. That pleases Niko. Ass Girl might have a great ass, but in all seriousness, her parties are shitty. In Niko’s world, this makes sense, and it appears, by Ass Girl’s resultant shyness, that Ass Girl has indeed been introduced to Niko’s world, and it slammed the door in her damn face. “Mine was the greatest party ever! We had lots of college boys! It has never been this massive before.”

  “Oh, maybe next time we’ll be able to coordinate, that way we won’t have opposing parties.”

  “Fuck that, mine always come first! I mean, God damnit…”

  “Young lady, what did I hear?”

  That was the vice-principal. (Herein known as: Veeps).

  He’s snuck up on Niko, and he did quite well. As a physical structure, he’s a short man who projects stern discipline in his mantle. His most relatable feature being his bald head, and its glare often invites speculation that a waxer is involved. As a thinker, Veeps’s from the school that people want the opposite of what they express. So to say, he made this grand entrance for Niko, and not himself, because he knows Niko wants it this way. And when Niko goes straight as steel, as she just did, it confirms for him all he has ever thought was true about nature.

  And Veeps knows a thing or two about nature.

  He goes hunting every winter break.

  “Nothing, sir.”

  “That was not nothing I heard.”

  In the Academy, the g-word is worse than the f-one. “I’m sorry, sir. I shouldn’t have used the Lord’s name in vain.”

  “Especially not in this chapel.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Niko, and this goes for all you girls, if I hear one additional iota of profanity, there’ll be disciplinary action, understood?”

  Niko swallows. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Um, I was too, sir.”

  Veeps misunderstands Niko. He thinks she talked back.

  “Niko, how many demerits do you have for this semester?”

  Stuff like this sometimes provokes Niko to stray from the respectful student path. It’s well known that sometimes—okay, most times—Niko blasts off, thus this macho crap often feels like a countdown.

  Niko, do what he says!

  For Niko’s on the Academy’s radar. Not only for being a free thinker, or a misbehaved free thinker, and a woman whose sexual appetite could swallow 5/6th of the boys at this school, but for being infectiously so—or an “enabler.” You see, it isn’t solely about cusses or truancy. One time it was how Niko stopped wearing bras to school. Really, it’s last year, when—after Tom was safely in the ambulance—this entire troop, minus Ass Girl, sat before Veeps, all saying the same.

  “Sir, there was nothing between Mike and Tom.”

  “Donna’s eye was black?”

  “It just happened, sir, we don’t know why.”

  Conspiracy was afoot, and yet, conspiracy it was not. Whatever ties her to her classmates—perhaps the uniforms, the hierarchy or the subtleties of social interaction—decided to hide the truth.

  Veeps decided to blame Niko.

  “Four, sir.”

  “We spoke about what happens if it becomes five. What you need to be do—what all you girls need to do—is to hurry to class and showing us you’re serious about your responsibilities.”

  He leaves them be. And no one speaks. No one moves.

  Except for Niko. “Fucking prick.”

  She touches Niko. “Let it go. He’s trying to upset you.”

  “Trying? The rat fucker was putting the screws to me.” Her lips layer and her brow straightens. Then, she shakes. Seconds pass. It’s like an eternity. “He wants profanity? I hope Jesus butt fucks him until he bleeds to death.”

  Pause.

  Okay, that quote might sound contrived, and it is. Niko’s tailored it to break Veep’s monotonous face. It is vital to Niko that she be able to break people. The reasons are complicated, but not illogical. It spurs from (big surprise) last year. It’s also one of Niko’s few tells. While most will fall for this phony statement, and you will see how far that fall is momentarily, that Niko spoke such only proves this isn’t Niko. This whole façade is Niko3.0 and it’s vital to remember that because, if you forget, you lose yourself in Niko’s spell and, once lost, you’ll do whatever Niko says.

  Play.

  “Are you crazy? What’s the matter with you?”

  “What do you care if I say it? I hope Jesus—”

  She interrupts. “Shut up.”

  Mackenzie has lost color. “Niko, that’s disgusting.”

  Even the Sluts agree.

  “Ugh, that’s so gross.”

  “Ugh, Niko, we’re so grossed out!”

  Ass Girl’s jaw hangs like an asphyxiated fish. “Niko, we can’t be friends if you’re going to say things like that.”

  Pop. The weasel goes free. Stepping forward like Veeps upon Ass Girl’s frightened face. “Be your friend? How stupid can you white girls get?”

  Ass Girl stands her ground. “It has nothing to do with that, and some of us at this school are actually Christians, okay?”

  “What’re you gonna do about it? Tell the vice-principal?”

  “I might.”

>   Sykosa splits Niko and Ass Girl. “Please, don’t tell on her.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not what you think it is.”

  Mackenzie gets in a second too late, like usual. “We should go to the vice-principal, maybe even the Administration.”

  Now, she’s pissed. “Mackenzie, just please…” It’s not worth it. She turns to Ass Girl. “You don’t know what this is about. You don’t understand.”

  “What don’t I understand?”

  “It happened last year on this Monday.”

  Ass Girl is confused. “What happened last year?”

  No one wants to answer. She didn’t tell you earlier? That was the elephant, not the who’s hottest list, which will be dealt with in the next few days, she’s certain, but for now, last year is why Veeps is trigger-happy, why Niko’s aggravated, and most of all, why she wishes she had seen Tom. Perhaps in memorial, or fear, no one wants to discuss it, and the girls separate.

  She heads to the secret bathroom. Niko goes with her.

  She lights a cigarette, then gives Niko the pack.

  Niko lights. “Sorry about that.”

  “You know, I’m Christian too, and you know I pray at mass. And besides, the Bitches don’t need that sorta ammunition against us!”

  “You’re right. And I love Jesus.”

  Lies! Filthy, filthy lies!

  She hits off the smoke. “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do, and I’ll say I’m sorry in my own way.”

  “That’s not good enough for them.”

  Niko is defiant. “Well, it’ll have to be.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  She meant the omnipresent overseer, the Administration.

  It’s the bureaucracy that operates the Academy.

  Mother Superior, along with her other duties at the abbey, directly oversees the operation of the preparatory Academy and its primary schools, and for such she is part of the Administration, formally known as a regent. The Monsignor is also a regent, albeit one whose duties do not include the Academy. You see, the Academy’s a fraction of the parish itself; which, in conjunction with the Archdiocese, manages an endowment that funds a university, two hospitals, countless charities, and the maintenance of Seattle’s finest churches, including the St. James Cathedral and the Academy chapel.

 

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