Free Schizo by Nic Sheff Page A

horseback riding along the tops of these cliffs overlooking the ocean. But at one point, when our guide was busy closing the gate behind us, Eliza’s horse took off running and then, not even knowing what I was doing, I kicked my horse hard with my heels and went galloping after her. It was my first time ever being on horseback, but I had to catch her. So I got my horse right up beside hers and somehow that made the horse she was on slow down and relax, until finally we were both able to stop.
    She was breathing fast then. I remember it—like she was hyperventilating, so bad she could barely even speak. “Take a deep breath,” I told her. “Come on, you can do it, just take a deep breath.”
    And she did. She did what I told her. She breathed deep and long and slow.
    I listen to her breathing now—slower, easier.
    I kick the toe of my boot into the ground, trying to think up something to say to change the subject.
    â€œUh . . . did your, uh . . . dad stay in New Orleans?”
    â€œYeah, and you know how my dad used to be so obsessed with Japan? Now it’s like he’s totally changed and suddenly he doesn’t care at all about the Japanese stuff and he’s become totally obsessed with New Orleans. I swear, he’s gonna start talking with an accent before long.”
    We both laugh at that.
    â€œYou know . . . I . . . uh . . . Your dad . . . I mean . . . he was always pretty distant. And he was terrible to your mom . . . and to you . . . really. So maybe you guys are better off this way?”
    â€œThat’s exactly what I told my mom,” she says. “I knew you’d understand.”
    She takes my hand in hers for a second, and the feel of her is warm and electric all over my body.
    â€œWell,” I tell her, “I am sorry this is happening to you. I know it must be hard.”
    â€œYeah, thanks.” She tilts her head to one side. “Anyway,” she adds, “at least we got to move back here, right?”
    I nod, thinking that maybe I really should make getting food a priority—because the nausea is not letting up. The pain is still in my stomach, and now the veins in my skull feel all swelled with blood, squeezing in at my temples so goddamn tight. With each beat of my heart, it’s like the veins clamp down even harder and I see this bright light flashing in the darkness when I close my eyes.
    â€œHey, are you all right?” she asks me.
    â€œYeah . . . no,” I say, standing up as slowly as I can so I don’t do anything embarrassing, like maybe pass out completely. “I’m fine. You wanna . . . you wanna go get something to eat?”
    â€œSure,” she says, smiling.
    â€œI can make something inside,” I tell her, not wanting to make her leave if she doesn’t want to. “Or we could go to Video Café. They’re open twenty-four hours.”
    She nods. “Okay, yes, let’s do that.”
    Her body brushes against mine as she starts to walk, and I feel this warmth in me just from the slightest touch. That strange rotting smell has gone, and I think maybe this might actually work out. After all, she seems the same. I mean, different—but the same. The same Eliza. And I think maybe I’m not that different, either.
    It’s just like it used to be.
    But then Preston’s front door opens and a bunch of kids holding forties come pouring out into the courtyard with us. They’re seniors I know only by sight, but tonight, because of Eliza being so goddamn beautiful, they seem eager to talk. In fact, one of them even knows my name.
    â€œYo, what’s up, Miles? Who’s this you got here?”
    He’s sloppy drunk, but still handsome, I think. At least, I imagine Eliza must think he’s handsome. He has his hair all shaved around the sides and long in front, sticking up