Pseyechia; Chapter 1.4: A News Story (Edited)

Seven hells did I have trouble with this section. It is the distillation of an entire chapter to about 2,000 words. Considering my complete inability to know what to cut without bouncing things off of people, I'm both concerned that I didn't cut enough and that I cut too much. For example, I cut Sienna realizing that Leroy started using Standard American English spelling and punctuation when he got serious about a journalistic question and am afraid the switch to SAE might look like a mistake on my part without that realization. And I'm also afraid that Sienna spends too much time talking to Leroy.

This snippet also contains the first hints of Sienna's mental health being...not so solid. And I feel like I was hella clumsy about it, but am not sure how to change it.

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She opened Facebook and saw that Leroy was online. She opened a chat window and typed:

          [Sienna] Hey Leroy. Did you catch the news this morning? The Psych Squad thing?

He replied immediately. Sienna grimaced, but at least she would get an answer. Maybe.

          [Leroy] yeah pretty crazy amirite??? i wonder if theyre all telepaths or theres just one badass who can levitate them all

Sienna took a few moments to remind herself that Leroy’s Facebook message-writing style was nothing like his academic style, and she was irrationally annoyed by his text speak because she had to resort to talking to someone who had flirted with her (and then acted like a kicked puppy when she had finally realized what the hell he was on about and shut him down). Unfortunately, she didn’t know anyone else who was into journalism. She did, however, reserve the right to be annoyed with Leroy for saying “telepath” when the correct word for someone who could move objects with their mind was “telekinetic”.

          [Sienna] I wondered that too, but…I’m more curious about all the videos cutting off at the same point.

          [Leroy] huh really?? i only saw one vid from swbc

          [Sienna] SWBC’s video had the best angles, but I saw a couple others and they all cut off right as the team took off into the air. What’s with that?

          [Leroy] really? all the videos u saw stopped at the same point in the event?

          [Sienna] I don’t want to cry censorship over what might be a coincidence. But I thought at the very least, it was weird. I wanted to ask you what you thought, since I don’t know any other wannabe journalists.

          [Leroy] “wannabe”? im on the constant now! im assistant editor!

Sienna felt a grudging respect for Leroy’s choice of Emberdale paper. The Constant, one of Emberdale’s three school newspapers, included giving a platform to those students whose voices were often silenced by society in its mission statement.

          [Sienna] Cool, but that doesn’t answer my question of “what does someone who is into journalism think of this probably-not-a-coincidence video editing choice by multiple news channels”?

          [Leroy] it def sounds suspicious. but i’ll have to check it out. what other news sources did u look at?

Sienna huffed out a breath of relief at the fact that Leroy hadn’t fished for more encomium regarding his position on the staff of The Constant. She typed the other news sources into the messaging window, thanked Leroy curtly, and signed off before he could strike up a personal conversation. Then she ran an Internet search on “Psych Squad” with the day’s date, and read everything she could find. She was so intent on her research that she nearly forgot to drift, still wrapped in her own thoughts, to the nearest dining hall when it opened for lunch.

It took Leroy a while to get back to Sienna, and when he did, she was already in her seminar on general anesthesia. She had to focus far more on the seminar than she did on neuropharm, so she waited until the class was over and the other students had left to read Leroy’s long string of messages. He had gone from hypothesizing that the news outlets had cut off the videos to protect the Psych Squad by concealing their destination to believing that one of the Psychs telepathically forced everyone filming to turn off their devices.

          [Sienna] Maybe one of them is a telepath…but to convince that many people all at once to stop filming? Their ability level must be off the charts.

          [Leroy] it must be…OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAAAND!!!!!

Sienna groaned and logged out of Facebook without replying to Leroy’s outdated joke. She felt a small twinge knowing she would see Leroy the following night at art club; there was no way in hell that he would even look at her, let alone talk to her there, but Sienna couldn’t shake the strange idea that if she kept blowing off Leroy, people would stop wanting to be her friend.

Sienna shook herself, quite literally. She packed up her laptop case and headed for the dining hall, the irrational worry over no longer being liked still pricking at the back of her neck. She wouldn’t let Leroy touch her to wipe her ass, so why was she feeling so uncomfortable about not replying to his inane joke? She decided to put it down to the event she often referred to as “braindouchery”.

She had gotten out of class late, so when she got to the dining hall, Nia was already sitting with Callie, Alma, and Paeton. Nia waved Sienna down as she wandered, looking for a place to sit in the crowded room.

“Howzit, Sienna? I saved you a seat.”

“Thanks, Nia.” Sienna slid into the chair that Nia had saved for her.

“Sienna! Thought we wouldn’t see you tonight. Why weren’t you in lab after this morning? Were you sick?” Paeton queried.

For most of the day, Sienna’s mind had been overflowing with contemplations of the Psych Squad, bubbling with curiosity, straining through logic and new information, and dripping out conclusions like a coffee percolator of thought. But ever since she had logged off of Facebook without replying to Leroy, she had been preoccupied with the ever-increasing dread of the thought of her friends abandoning her. She was always talking about Psych stuff, especially with Nia around; what if her friends were sick of it?

“You know, I don’t really feel like talking about it,” said Sienna in a small, tight voice.

“Douche-brain?” Nia asked.

Sienna sighed. “Nia, you know me too well.” Before the others could figure out whether or not she was being serious, she scurried off to get food.

She found herself blinking back tears of guilt over missing lab. She loaded up her tray without paying attention to what food she was choosing, muttering to herself about how illogical and ridiculous it was to cry right now. By the time she got back to the table, she had a full tray, a mug of chamomile tea, and dry eyes. Her eyes still burned with unshed tears, but it was better than blubbering in public (and no matter how many times she told herself that her friends would only try to comfort her if she did, she couldn't help but fear that they would think her a wreck or a wuss). The chamomile was sure to help.

When she sat down, Callie and Alma were animatedly discussing their new idea for throwing clay pots during art club, and Sienna immediately threw herself into the pleasant distraction of discussing the club’s next project. The undercurrent of dread she was fighting began to ebb away when Callie and Alma agreed with her suggestion that the club try free-form sculpture instead of pottery, as the art department might not let them use the kiln. She was lifting her mug of chamomile tea to her lips when Nia shattered her fragile calm.

“So, Sienna, you never told me what it was that you saw on the news that made you late for lab.”

Sienna nearly choked on her chamomile. She set her mug down too quickly and the liquid sloshed. Paeton quirked an eyebrow. “Damn, girl, what was it you saw on the news?”

“It was nothing,” Sienna spluttered. “Stupid.”

“Sienna,” Nia scolded.

Sienna knew there were many words hidden in that one utterance of her name. For the second time that day, she shook herself. Her friends might judge her for ditching lab after seeing something unusual on the news, but a bunch of obviously powerful Psychs dressing up in martial arts uniforms and shutting down a violent so-called protest targeting newly diagnosed Psychs? That was interesting, right?

Sienna steeled herself with a deep breath. “I guess I…really got shaken up or…was really into…or something…” She tried again, this time successfully describing Collingsworth’s assholery, the appearance of five immensely powerful Psychs, and the fact that they were dressed like a martial arts tournament team.

“I used to do aiki ju jistu. What ranks were they? Did you see what colors their belts were?” asked Alma, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table.

Sienna tried and failed to imagine quiet, mellow Alma practicing a martial art or even dressed in a martial arts uniform. She launched into a detailed description of the uniforms, including that none of the Psych Squad were wearing martial arts belts as well as her theory that such uniforms were chosen to hide body type and as such maintain anonymity. Nia, Callie, Paeton, and Alma listened raptly as Sienna described one member of the Psych Squad checking on the wounded before the group re-assembled and lifted off, seemingly as one.

“And you know the weirdest part?” Sienna finished. “All the footage I can find gets cut off at the same time. So I’m wondering if one of them is a telepath and convinced everyone filming to turn off their phones.”

Callie’s eyes widened. “Damn. I wouldn’t want to get on that person’s bad side.”

“Was anyone hurt?” Nia’s voice dripped with concern.

“The Psych Squad didn’t hurt anybody. Only a few people tried to fight them, and they all fell over, dead asleep, when they charged. It looked like the Psychphobic cockwaffles did hurt some people coming out of the clinic, but hopefully I was right about the one Psych healing the people who got hurt.”

“Maybe I should watch the news in the morning too,” said Callie. “I might see something that Verne would be interested in.”

“What’s your brother's Psych ability again?” asked Nia.

“Sharpening people’s focus or disorienting them,” said Callie. “It’s pretty weak, though. He’s a seventeen-year-old kid, so he used it to be a dick and make people forget what they came into a room to get…at least at first. Now he mostly uses it to focus on college applications.”

“Maybe I should watch the news to learn more about this Psych Squad,” said Nia. “I mean…I’m a Psych, even if all I do is warm people up.”

An unfortunately familiar voice with a timbre like a chainsaw cut into their conversation. “How about you warm me up, pretty little hula dancer?” A pale-skinned young man whose face could be best described as having not enough room on it for all of his features sauntered up to the table. He wiped his reddish-blond hair back from his forehead and rested his hands on the back of Nia’s chair.

Anger flared in Sienna’s belly. “Fuck off, Derrick,” she snarled.

“I wasn’t talking to you, dyke. I ain’t going nowhere til I talk to my bae.”

“Assclown, you from Vermont so I know you ain’t Southern, so you cut that ‘ain’t’ shit, and you too pasty a cracker to use ‘bae’!” Paeton yelled. Derrick jumped; he had set off Sienna’s temper in the past, but never Paeton’s. Sienna felt compelled to reach for popcorn. “And if you talkin’ to the dyke, you talkin’ to me, and I finna kick your honky ass!” Sienna thrilled as she listened to the tirade, having become quite familiar with Paeton’s zero-tolerance policy for what she termed “creepazoids”. Derrick, being an AAVE-appropriating “creepazoid”, had also set himself up for a Paeton Aster Ass-Chewing in the dialect he had been misusing.

“And I don’t like you talking about hula that way.” Nia’s voice wasn’t angry, but wounded and confused. “It’s an important Hawai’ian tradition. Don’t you ever call me that again!” Nia began to cry. Sienna put an arm around her and squeezed.

“Derrick, get the fuck out of here,” spat Callie.

“Hijo de puta,” added Alma in a mild tone that belied the meaning of her words. “Learn some respect.”

Derrick stepped back, blinking in befuddlement and anger, his face seeming to have difficulty settling on an expression. “Crazy bitches.”

“Yeah, we’re crazy. Crazy enough to beat you to a pulp for this,” Sienna barked. “Get the fuck away from my friend!”

“You’ll be sorry!” Derrick sniveled and mock-sauntered off, trying to act like he wasn’t rattled and failing miserably.

Sienna kept hugging Nia, who was still crying. “Hula is…it’s…how could be say that?” she wept. Nia had been upset before when Derrick had tried to make hula into an innuendo—especially when he had engaged in hip movements that were very unlike the hula—but usually they had seen him approaching, and Nia had been able to steel herself. Paeton, Callie, and Alma got up and gathered around Nia to try to participate in the hug.

“Cuddle huddle!” said Callie, and Nia gave a sob that had probably begun its life as a laugh. Sienna kissed the top of Nia’s head.

“I wish Emberdale did more about harassment like that,” Sienna grumbled.

“They’d say what Derrick does isn’t harassment,” Paeton sighed. “We all knew what he meant. But it’s not specific enough to even get the disciplinary committee involved.”

“Such bullshit,” said Sienna dully.

“Mahalo plenty, haololas,” said Nia in a small voice, wiping her eyes.

“You’re welcome,” they chorused. Sienna gave Nia another squeeze and went back to her dinner. The rest of them did as well. Sienna’s mind flitted back to the Psych Squad, but she sure as hell no longer felt like talking.