Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Skin Nation

Joni Bing


Skin Nation

  Joni Bing

  Copyright 2013 Joni Bing

  Book Design by Tianna Harvey

  Table of Contents

  Start of Skin Nation

  About Joni Bing

  Other Books by Joni Bing

  Connect with Joni Bing

  Prologue

  "To conquer a nation, first disarm its citizens." - Adolf Hitler

  ONE

  “TO THE MASS!”

  Strobe lights of every color-red, orange, yellow, blue, purple, and green-flashed rhythmically in beat with the heavy electro-rock music that blasted my ears from the moment I walked in. Graffiti designed Solo cups flew around the room and multi-colored glow sticks scattered the floor. Splashes of foamy alcoholic drinks spilled from the cups of those I passed, clashing into the silly string being sprayed in the air by those running through the sweaty crowd, soaking my costume. Before I could speak a word in protest, the glitter bomb hanging from the center of the ceiling exploded, spilling its insides onto the crowd who stopped to celebrate the moment. I knew then that it was midnight.

  “Since when has Mass bash been this crazy?”

  “Since I got pledged onto council.”

  I looked up at Josh and laughed. He thought he was so cool now, but that was what the Mass was all about. Being cool and rebellious. Fighting the System.

  Josh and I were the epitome of childhood friends. I'm talking literally since we were in diapers. That was part of the reason why I was the only one allowed to make fun of his curly afro that he inherited from his Dominican father and bright green eyes that resembled his mixed mother's. According to our parents, ever since that first day we met in Pre-K, we were inseparable. Apparently, we used to cry for each other on the weekends and everything. We constantly got accused of being a couple over the years, but eventually the rumors died when Josh and I started seeing other people in pre-YA, which I heard was similar to Old Nation “middle school” and stood for pre-Young Adult.

  Josh raced us further into the wild dancing crowd and found a place to join them right next to the speakers. I still don't know how the Mass was funded. It was all set-up and run by a bunch of no collar YA kids, the New Nation term for the teenagers. I stood up on my tip toes as we walked through the crowd to watch the band playing on a high platform in the center of the room.

  “Who's playing tonight? They're good!”

  “No clue! I got to the last meeting after they voted for music!”

  “Bro!”

  I looked over and saw SJ walking over to greet Josh. SJ, Mister black prepped hair with massive green puppy dog eyes that always looked stoned, was one of Josh's good guy friends who became the Mass president when Herrick, the Mass legend of our class himself, went missing.

  “SJ, what's going down, man?!”

  “Nothing much, bro,” he looked over at me. “The band's as hot as your date tonight.”

  I stared into SJ's eyes with the lowest lack of interest I could fix on my face and he smiled back with that creepy smile stretching his cheeks.

  “Nice costume, Dalton.”

  “Thanks,” I smiled as I put my arms around Josh's shoulders. I always used him as a creeper repellant. “I had Josh in mind when I put it together.”

  “Ooh...well, bro-ski, listen. Some new chick wants to be inducted tonight so we need someone to...you know.”

  I knew exactly what SJ was hinting at. He was trailing off about the reason why I could never truly join the Mass. Because joining the Mass meant being a brand wearing, daily partier, weekly drinker who enjoys intercourse more than the average high angst teen because a man the Mass called “Carl-Diculous”--whose real name isn't so far from that-says too much of these things will create the Perfect Man before age twenty five if you start at eighteen. Of course, the point of the Mass was to start “Trying Life” earlier than that with the help of your class and classes up to three years ahead of you if you were one of those Xi freshmen who could be inducted early. In short, the Mass was probably more illegal than transnational communication.

  “Not tonight, man. I might just have our next future inductee here if I behave right,” Josh replied as he looked over at me with a hand around my waist.

  “Alright, man, I got you. We are waiting for you though, Dalton. All of us are,” SJ winked.

  “Thanks, SJ, that just makes me feel so much better about my decision...” I started. SJ walked away and I whispered to Josh, “...to stay indie.”

  “Bleu, seriously, I can't keep hanging with an indie, girl. I'm an admin now, you know? And, if we're not...you know...people won't think I'm legit.”

  “Since when do you care about what idiots like SJ think?”

  Josh never gave me an answer. Feedback bled through our ears and there SJ stood on the platform, mic in hand, while the band exited the stage to cool off before their next set.

  “MASS, LET ME HEAR YOU!”

  “WE GOT YOU!”

  “WHAT ELSE?”

  “GOT IT!”

  “WHICH IS?”

  “THE FUTURE!”

  “WHICH WE'LL-”

  “CONQUER!”

  “AH, YOU GUYS HAVE BEEN HERE BEFORE. ALRIGHT, GUYS, WE GOT A FOLLOWER REQUEST TONIGHT. SHALL I BRING HER UP?”

  “Is she hot?” I heard Gary Nissen shout further up near the platform than Josh had run us.

  “I'LL LEAVE THAT FOR YOU TO DECIDE! SUMER, WHERE YOU AT?”

  She strutted quick onto the stage in a black lacy burlesque outfit with full red lipsticked lips, and mocha skin, looking just like the younger sister I never had who I would kill if I ever caught here. The guys in the crowd whooped and hollered and I laughed at the girls beside them in similar lacy costumes like mine poking out their tongues in jealous revolt.

  “THINK YOU GETTING A MASS YES, SUMER! NOW, IT'S TIME TO HEAR FROM OUR COUNCIL. ADMINS, WHERE YOU AT?”

  Josh hollered out beside me along with the other admins mixed around the party and I almost punched him in the stomach to give him something to holler out about. I couldn't believe he joined the Mass. And now he was an admin too?

  “WELL, I SEARCHED FOR YA AND NO ADMIN CALLLED DIBS SO TONIGHT IS WHAT WE OF THE MASS CALL-”

  “WILD CARD WEDNESNDAY!”

  “WOW! MASS VETS IN THE HOUSE! I LIKE THAT! PLATT!”

  Jerry Platt, another admin with prepped hair that was brown and high eyes that were blue who I think got elected the same night Josh had, jumped onto the stage with-

  “LET'S HEAR IT FOR THE SMASH BOWL!”

  Everyone in the room screamed and cheered as SJ dug through the glitter and names swimming around in the bowl. My heart started beating fast and I took a breath to calm it down.

  “AND TONIGHT'S LUCKY ADMIN IS,” SJ paused when he read the name on the slip. That's when everyone started yelling for him to say the name, say the name but he just stared at the paper, almost like saying the name would kill him. Or us.

  “...Myles Tucker.”

  The room grew quiet and I looked around at the paling-worried faces that suddenly filled the crowd. Oh, no. Not Myles Tucker. Because the name Myles Tucker always brought another name with it in conversation: Kenzie Louis. Even though it was banned for Mass admins to be in a relationship, there was always a strong unspoken law that certain people were...taken by others. Like friends with benefits without the status. I looked around again. Was he gonna do it?

  “Where is he?”

  “There,” Josh said as he pointed Myles out.

  Oh, man. He was.

  I looked around a third time and found Kenzie in the crowd with a glitter infested hand around her eyes looking down at the glow sticks lit floor like she lost something. If nights like this one that we heard happened about so many times before at Mass bashes as pre-YAs
were examples, maybe she had. Sumer and Myles made eye contact...Myles took her hand...looked back into the crowd...put on that fake Mass admin smile, threw up deuces...and they were off.

  “NOW, LET'S HEAR IT ONE MORE TIME FOR MASSIVE ADDICTS!” SJ shouted before things got too awkward and the band swaggered back on stage.

  “Can we go now? They don't need you anymore, right?”

  Josh looked over at me then looked down in thought...or was that irritated anger?

  “Yeah...yeah, I guess.”

  We walked slowly through the crowd this time and both of us grabbed a Solo cup to go. We exited the dance hall and the air outside smelled alcoholic and felt cold. I wanted to talk about what just happened but I knew better. What happens at Mass bash, stays at Mass bash. Period.

  “Shoot, where's the car?” Josh said to himself.

  “Circles, I see circles!” I laughed.

  All of a sudden, a bust of laughter sounded from both of us. It was an inside joke of ours. It was the first thing Josh said the first time we ever got high. It was the last time for me but Josh's...well, he's a Mass admin for a reason.

  “Do you remember?”

  “Of course not. I was trying to rip my stocking on our walk here, remember?”

  “Oh, right,” he sighed. “Great, we're screwed. Let's start walking around.”

  We walked on the jagged concrete sidewalk without words for quite some time. I actually liked those moments though. Me. Josh. Walking quarter Mass wasted. Silent night. I looked up to find stars and found rows of streetlights shining too brightly to see anything but dark gloomy clouds. Freaking System.

  “Hey, sexy, you lost?”

  I looked over and found a girl with messy black hair and hungry gray eyes walking coolly next to Josh. Oh great. Let the Wild Wednesday routine begin.

  “Not interested,” he replied.

  “You sure? I'm a guaranteed good time. It's Wild Wednesday, you know?”

  “I'm an admin, of course I know. I'm just not interested.”

  I wanted to snicker but I kept my trap shut. I should feel bad. Her parents were true Followers. Plus, by the looks of it, her last good meal was weeks ago.

  “Anything I can do to make you interested...anything?”

  She reached to untie the black lace around her bust and Josh grabbed for my hand then pushed her away. “I said not interested! Get lost!”

  She shrieked and ran down the opposite way we continued to walk.

  “Josh!”

  “I know it's just...gosh what is it with these doxies lately? They're all so needy and willy!”

  “What do you expect from a girl who got kicked out her house to fend for herself?”

  “Some sympathy you're poppin' off the lip with. If you feel so bad, go run her down and give her the Lincoln I saw you slip into your bra earlier-”

  “Please, I don't feel that bad.”

  That's when Josh looked over at me with his my-point-exactly. I-was-right-after-all smirk and released my hand from his. Suddenly, everything felt so cold.

  TWO