With baited breath and trembling limbs, Nina holds on tightly to the seat of the prison bus. Despite the enclosed space, she was freezing her ass off, but she didn't dare ask the driver to turn on the heater. Slender and sun-tanned, there was something unnervingly intimidating about her. Instead she stayed silent, pretending to be invisible in the chaos. Perhaps if she stayed speechless for long enough, they'd forget she was there altogether.
But they didn't. When they pulled into the gates they swerved suddenly, making Nina's eyes widen and threaten tears. She found herself squashed up against the van door, her face pressed up against the cool glass. Women of all appearances crowded in the courtyard; gossiping, pointing, plotting. Overwhelmed, she tried to swallow the bile that had settled in her throat, but felt herself gag instead.
"Hey, no barthing in the van!" An officer commanded, turning around to face her. "You're goanna have to wait till you get inside."
His smile was too big, like that of the Cheshire cat against his sunken features and sharp cheekbones. The woman next to him turned and smirked.
"First time down?" She asked, parking the van into its assigned space.
"Yeah." Nina admitted.
"What's your name, white girl?"
She swallowed. "Nina."
"Girl, don't be telling no-one your first name in pen!" The woman next to her interjected.
"Uh…sorry."
There's a silence.
"So…" The driver continued, turning off the engine. "What'd they call you?"
Nina hesitated, unsure of how to answer this question. No-one had ever asked it in jail; there she was simply known as that 'baby faced white bitch' from the second floor.
"What's you're last name, dumb ass." Instructed another woman from behind her.
"Oh." Nina replied, the penny finally dropping. "It's Nichols."
The driver nodded and opened the door to the front of the van. At the same time the guard swings himself out of the seat next to her and begins to unlock Nina's door.
"Well, that's goanna be a head fuck. We already got a Nichols in here." The driver replied, watching on as the guard released them. "You kinda look like her too. Must be the hair." She sniggered, and Nina realised she was mocking her. Dragged out of her jail bunk at 4 am in the morning, she hadn't had time to put a brush through it, let alone wash it.
Face hot with embarrassment, she edges out of her seat and waits for the guard to unshackle her.
"You were a little late coming in. The rest of us have already done our introductions." He explained through his creepy Cheshire grin "I'm Officer Coates. And that's Maritza."
Nina nodded.
"I'll leave the you's to introduce yourselves." He said, waving at the other transfers.
Following Coates and Maritza's lead, the women walk single file into the prison yard. Nina felt eyes bore into her like torches as she walked, a horrible but familiar sensation.
Among the crowd of eyes stands Nicky Nichols, perched on her tip toes to get a look at the fresh meat. Since returning from maximum security a month ago, things in camp had been pretty crappy. After finding out about Alex, and Morello's spontaneous marriage, she'd sunk into depression deeper than ever before. Even Red, whom had learnt from the Trisha incident not to disown her daughters, even temporarily, couldn't help. Nothing could. Life had become a slow, unbreakable cycle of chronic misery.
But a glimmer of hope still shone within her. Clutching at straws, she hung onto the possibility of a new sexual conquest coming along and lifting her spirits, and the arrival of new inmates was the perfect time to check out the talent. She may no longer have access to heroin in here, but sex was plentiful.
They walked one-by-one into the courtyard. Behind Maritza and the creepy new guard, she spotted them; a black woman with braids the colour of blood, an hour glass bodied Hispanic, a young girl who looked like the definition of white trash and another youngster who was so far behind the others Nicky couldn't quite make her out.
"Get a move on Nichols!" The guard yelled suddenly, noticing a superior out of the corner of his eye.
Nicky turned and frowned, confused.
"Not you, dumb ass." Said Boo, who was standing next to her.
She rolled her eyes. "Great. They take fucking everything from me and now they wanna take my name too?" She meant it jokingly, but all of a sudden she felt her hands curl in to fists and her heart thump fast.
"Woah, chill out son." Boo replied, a little taken aback. "Time of the month or something?"
"Something like that." Nicky mumbled.
The rage came and went in waves, as unpredictable as a New York summer. One moment she was peacefully wallowing in self-pity, the next she felt the need to punch something. Sometimes she did. Pillows if she was just a little mad, walls when she felt as though she was turning into the hulk. It was an old habit, a childhood coping mechanism for her mother, but recently it had become more of a ritual.
Examining the scuffs and scratches on her fist, Nicky hears the beat of footsteps drawing closer. Curiosity about the straggler encourages her to lift her head to look. A wild fuzz of pale hair approached in the distance, a lonesome cloud in a clear sky. Her average-built body was dressed in the federal systems trademark orange, and her skin was so pale she looked as though she was going to throw up right there in front of everyone. Nicky couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards her as she trudged into the courtyard like a lamb going to the slaughter, eyes fixed intently on her oversized canvas shoes.
Finishing her walk of shame through the crowd, Nicky could see her more clearly now. And, out of the blue, like the waves of fury, she felt a sudden upsurge of familiarity for this girl. She couldn't seem to place her, but the sense of knowing was too strong to dismiss. Resolute, she mentally scans all the possibilities.
The girl was exactly that, a girl, so she couldn't be from her high school days, and she was far too fresh faced to be a junkie.
A retail assistant from her local grocery store? No, she felt too familiar to be just a face seen in passing…
She surveys the face again. She is almost within touching distance now. Despite its evidence, the girl doesn't notice Nicky's stare. But suddenly Nicky notices her. A lightbulb flashes on inside her head, illuminating the faces dark eyes, the subtle chip in its chin, her father's button nose…
"Nina?" She rasped, shock muffling her voice.
Slowly and cautiously, the girl looks round to face her.
"Nicky?" She whispered, eyes stretched wide.
"What the fuck?"
Nina chews her lip nervously. An old habit.
"Move along, inmate!" A guard shouts from the side-lines, stepping forward to usher her along.
Flinching at the threat of his touch, Nina continues walking.
When she reaches the doors, she turns back to survey the crowd, but Nicky is nowhere to be seen.
