Skin Nation
Page 20
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After awhile, we all went our separate ways in the commune. No one had spoken to Z, but then again no one knew if he was still around, and no one wanted to be the first one he saw. I spent hours up in my room with the lamp hardly illuminating anything in the room except the top corner of the bed that I sat away from. Reno found me in the room at the bed's foot with knees tucked to my chin and my arms trying to steady my shivering body. I hated this feeling-guilt. It was worse than the aftermath of a high.
“You're shaken up? You were the one with the gun!” he laughed.
I gave him a cold look and he turned his laughter into a creepy smirk.
“Don't worry about Z, okay? He's a jerk and it had to be done. Now, you can breathe again.”
He sat down next to me when I didn't respond, and I imagined us outside the commune like before when we planned it all.
“Something else is wrong,” Reno stated as he put his arms around my shoulders.
I didn't pull away. I was vulnerable, I needed the comfort.
“I've been having...scary dreams lately.”'
“Dreams are never scary. It's nightmares that's got you so shaken.”
It was responses from Reno like that that made me wish I pranked him instead of Z. I didn't react to what he said. I just went on.
“They always involve fire and bodies and screaming.”
“Maybe you're dreaming about what's happening outside while you're asleep.”
“You mean, when the Requesters come by?”
Reno sat up more on the bed and sent us on a five second bouncy ride. No wonder ON kids gotta kick out of jumping on them. And, what do we New Nation kids get? Stiff airbeds with steel frames. Although we can adjust how we rest and what temperature we want our sheets...and there's the integrated music system feature. I guess we CU kids didn't have it too bad.
“I like your bed,” he smiled.
“I like it too, especially when it's steady.”
“Sorry,” he snickered.
It grew quiet between us, but before it became too silent, I spoke up. “You know, you never got around to answering my-”
“Hey, Bleu, you ready?”
“Ready? Ready for what?”
Lary looked over at Reno while I spoke like he had just noticed him in the room and scrunched his face for a moment. Then, he smiled. “To join 990. Our troupe.”
Mixed emotions suddenly filled me. Hadn't I already joined? I survived almost two weeks in the hell hole and at the moment was the safest person in the house after Lary. What else could possibly be needed in order to initiate me? Then, I thought about the contents in the bad Lary brought to the commune that day.
“No! Do I have to?”
Lary made a face. “What's the problem?”
The problem was I hated needles. I always skipped school whenever they took blood tests for drugs. If my mom never let me get The Cure as a child, I don't know what disease the needle would've given me. Plus, I heard filthy rumors about needles. In CU, any disease was possible to catch from them. Anything.
“The...needles dig into your skin, right?”
Lary looked relieved that I was only afraid of that. “Oh, no. Let me show you.”
He held up the tat pen that I pushed to the side of the bed away from me, and took off the cap. “See? No needle. It looks sharp because it's new, but the closest you'll feel to pain is a slight vibration.”
“Doesn't pierce into your skin or dig into it. Whatever you said,” Mar added with a laugh as he stepped into the room.
I wasn't too crazy about their responses, but their words relieved me anyway. Lary sat beside me at the foot of the bed and set-up the process.
I grabbed my hair into both of my fists, hoisting it up to clear the space for my membership mark. I froze when I felt my hair and held onto to its dried up ends, stunned that I had forgotten to tend it that morning. I imagined how it might have looked and wanted to cry. I figured it couldn't have been too bad, considering how the health of my hair must've been gradually regressing from the my deprivation of nourishing hair products of any kind since my arrival in Borealia.
Thankfully, even through all of the hell I encountered, a hair tie was still wrapped around my wrist so I finger combed through the length as much as possible and tied my hair up to the center of the my head.
“Anyone not in favor of Bleu Dalton joining 990, please make yourself known.”
Reno and Mar sat at the door with slight smiles on their faces, with no opposition on their lips.
“None opposed. Well.”
I felt Lary inch closer to me and heard the vibration of the tat pen. Then, a thought struck my mind.
“Wait!” I exclaimed. Lary moved back, appearing confused by my sudden outburst. “What about Z? Doesn't his vote count?”
“Well, yes, but he's-”
“What's going on?”
I looked over and there stood Z right between Mar and Reno at the door. Lary looked for me to answer and somehow I found the words immediately.
“I want to be apart of 990, but I didn't want to join unless everyone agreed.”
Z continued to look on from his place at the door with his hands in his pockets and frame leaned on the door. I couldn't help, but notice Reno's aggravation and wondered if he was jealous or just tired of waiting.
“You're the first of us who actually earned it,” he smiled.
I stared into the black depths of his weak lit eyes and grinned with a nod of my head, trying my best not to overly express my gratitude for his kind words-his first since our meet. I could only hold the cracks that made my grin back for so long though. It's a nice feeling, being accepted.
Without another moment's delay, Lary started on my mark, the mark of acceptance. In that moment, I officially became a 990 troupe member.
ELEVEN