Rites of Passage (20 page)

He kicks the door like they did during Hell Week and this time it bends, a crack in the wood appearing and slithering halfway up.

Tunic unbuttoned, I open the door and stand out on the wall.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Julius is in my face, yelling so hard he showers me with spit. “You're practically naked, McKenna!”

I'm not, but he obviously doesn't see it that way.

“And what the hell are you wearing? A BDU shirt with dress blues?”

“What?” Matthews runs to stand in front of me.

Eyes straight ahead, Sam. Don't look. Don't flinch. Just tune them out.

I'm reciting my fives times tables in my head to drown out their voices when doors slam up and down the hallway. Shit, I've missed the order.

“She loves her camo so much, why don't you all get back in it. And don't think we're going to let some scuffed boots slide. You'll be doing push-ups till the sun comes up if you look like crap!”

BDUs, right. I run into my room and dig through the pile of clothes on the floor until I have everything I need.

I hear one of my recruit buddies cry out as I'm coming out of my room and I look for the source of the noise.

“Don't be looking around, McKenna! Eyes locked straight ahead!”

“Corporal Matthews, yes, Corporal Matthews!”

Another cry from down the hall. “Be a man, Wilson. You were pretty damn impressive tonight. Just rewarding your hard work.” Matthews's attempt at a whisper makes me want to laugh. Until he stops in front of Kelly. “And, you. If you got rid of your dead weight,” he says, tilting his head in my direction, “you'd probably be the top-ranked recruit in our company—maybe on the whole of the DMA campus. Figure out where your allegiance lies, Kelly, and you'll make one damn fine cadet.”

Matthews drives his fists into Kelly's chest not once, not twice, but three times. Even our camouflage uniform requires us to wear name tags and he's punching Kelly right on top of the tag, digging the pins into his chest.

But Kelly doesn't cry out. As far as I can tell, he doesn't even flinch.

“Impressive,” Matthews says, and takes a step back. “Now for room inspections! Let's see if Alpha Company's weakest link can at least do something right and have her room up to standard.”

I stand in the door at attention, holding the orange baseball cap in my hand and out at a ninety-degree angle from my side. It's a pointless exercise. My clothes are scattered all over the floor. They're going to rip me a new one.

They slide into my room like two snakes, just hissing around for something to call me on.

“Bed doesn't have military corners!” They rip the sheets off my bed, throwing them onto the pile of clothes left from the fashion show we just put on.

“Underwear drawer not up to standard.” Matthews pulls the drawer out and upends everything in it, my bras and underwear showering onto the floor.

“Undershirts and BDU shirts not the standard folded and rolled length. Gonna need to redo those.” Julius dumps that drawer onto the pile.

“Trash can is in the wrong place.” Matthews kicks it across the room, crumpled up paper scattering like snowballs.

“Window blinds not at the correct length. Shit, McKenna, can't you do anything right?” Julius jerks both window blinds off the wall and tosses them on the heap as well.

“Get busy, McKenna. Lights out in fifteen and room inspection at 0500.” Matthews grins before he slams my door, leaving me alone with debris from tonight's battle scattered across the room like shrapnel.

 

A quiet knock on my fractured door around 0100 doesn't wake me—I'm still trying to put my room back in order. I've been at it for two hours, but it takes a long time to make everything perfect. Kelly and Bekah slide in and let the door close behind them. I'm too tired to start the conversation so I just grab another shirt.

“We wanted to make sure the corporals were in bed for the night before we came.” Kelly moves straight to my curtains and starts to untangle them. “So, the smoke show was . . . interesting.”

“Feeling bad for not standing up for me?” My argument is unreasonable, I know, and I feel childish even saying it. Messing up the fold of the shirt, I throw it down on the ground, grabbing another one instead.

He won't meet my gaze. “I couldn't—”

Bekah walks over to Katie's bunk and starts working on the military folds we have to put in the corners of the sheets. She keeps her eyes moving between me and Kelly.

“Ruin your reputation. I get it.” I can't forget the way Matthews drove his fist into Kelly's chest. “Your little bonding moment with Matthews was clear enough.”

“It's not like that, Mac.”

“Please. I've been around military guys my entire life. You may not have a family in the military, but if this is how you treat your female
friends
, you're well on your way to climbing the ranks.”

“Look, we didn't come to fight, Mac. Matthews treats you like shit. Everyone sees it, but you know we can't say anything. We came to help,” Bekah says, folding and placing the blanket on top of the bed. “And to see what Matthews was pissed about.”

Gritting past the annoyance at being thrown to the wolves, I try to get the conversation back on track. We can't be up much longer. I give them a rundown of what happened over Parents' Weekend with the tours and Jonathan, including what Jonathan said about Matthews's charges.

“There's no way your brother could believe that.” Bekah grabs the socks off the floor and begins rolling them to put in the drawer.

“Clearly you don't know my brother. He'll believe whatever he wants to believe and nothing I say is going to convince him otherwise.”

“Your brother's a dick,” Kelly says unapologetically.

I hold my hands up in surrender. “No arguments from me.”

An uneasy peace fills the room and the three of us work in silence to get everything back in order. When Kelly leaves, I'm ready to tell Bekah good night, too.

“Can I tell you something?” She's almost vibrating with electricity.

I sit down on my bed. “Sure.”

“I'm dating someone.”

“What? Who? When did this happen?”

“This weekend at track's big get-together. There was alcohol, dancing. It was amazing. It felt so good to be
human
again.”

“Please tell me this is some townie and not a cadet.”

She at least has the decency to look a little ashamed. “He lives three floors below us. Shawn Evers.”

If I were drinking something, I would spit it out all over the table. “You've got to be kidding. He's a freaking junior.” Not to mention a complete asshole.

“I know, I know. But he's gorgeous.” She can't keep the smile off her face.

“You know what he said about me during morning calls, right? I did tell you that story?”

“Yeah, but he's just—”

“You've got to end it. You saw what they did to me out there tonight. Matthews is trying to prove that I have the hots for him to get me kicked out. They're going to eat us alive, Bekah. Please . . .”

“Shawn's not going to tell anyone. He knows how it'll look. He's going to keep it a secret. Besides, he and Matthews are friends. Matthews was at the party—”

We're going to get to her another way
. It's what Matthews had said about her. If they'd gotten Evers involved, Bekah might not even see it coming. “Matthews can't be okay with you dating. He's the one who won't even let me blink wrong and he's going to let you break a major rule? Not to mention, I have no idea how you'll even pull this off. You're going to . . . what? Email each other?”

“We'll be together whenever we have practice. And, somehow we'll find time. Near Christmas we'll be recognized, right? That gives us a little more freedom.”

“Not enough to date upperclassmen.” My mind flashes to when Drill's eyes glanced at my lips for just a second. “It's late.” And I'm frustrated. “We can talk this through tomorrow.”

“There's nothing to talk through, Mac. I like him and he likes me. I hope you're okay with it, but even if you're not, please don't say anything.”

“Of course I won't,” I sigh.

TWENTY

KATIE SHOWED UP TWO DAYS AFTER PARENTS' WEEKEND
leave was over and got sent to the infirmary three days after that. It's two weeks into November before she moves back into our room. Her doctor's note says she's still not allowed to do company training or PT, either. I resist the urge to point out how unbelievable her injury and the doctor's note are when she seems just fine walking to and from classes.

I've gotten used to having the room to myself and am still trying to adjust to life with a roommate again. “Sorry,” I say as I bump into her shoe polish.

“It's okay. I think I'm doing this all wrong anyway. At the infirmary, someone did it for me.”

Of course they did. Everyone knows the staff at the infirmary does everything from polishing to starching. Even sick and injured cadets have to adhere to military standards, whether they can do it themselves or not. “Here, let me help.” I shouldn't have to do this by now, but I ignore the grumbling I want to voice and pick up her boot instead. Besides, if she's going to go along with whatever Matthews wants to say about me, I need to be as nice to her as I can.

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” I don't meet her eyes—I've always been a bad liar.

“You just seem . . . distracted. I know I haven't been around, but if you want to talk . . .” Her words drop off.

“It's just my mom.”

She gives me this look of sympathy. “I'm sorry you didn't get to see her on Parents' Weekend. Thanksgiving is only a week away, though.”

“I'm staying here over Thanksgiving.” The email came earlier today. It shouldn't surprise me, not after the past eleven months of coming in last place with Mom, far behind mourning Amos and her daily pills. “Jonathan and I have plans.” Or, we should.

“So you guys are talking again? I'm surprised you want anything to do with him after the KB incident. That was a jerk move on his part.”

I hadn't even bothered to tell her about what Jonathan had said about her over Parents' Weekend. “I know, but we're still family, right? And it's a holiday.” I'm ready for a break, but if Jonathan won't speak to me, it's only going to cement the fact that Platoon McKenna is dysfunctional.

She nods encouragingly. “I'm sure you guys will get to do something fun together.”

I drop her boot to the floor when I'm done polishing and pick up the other one. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

“Attention on deck!” Matthews yells. “The cadet colonel is in the hallway.”

“Speak of the devil,” I mumble, meeting Katie's wide-eyed gaze.

The door to our room slams open. Katie bumps into her wall locker.

“Room! Attention!” I yell at the top of my lungs, even though Katie and I have already snapped into position.

“At ease,” Jonathan says, glancing at Katie as she slides into a parade rest stance that's still not correct. “Glad to see you're back in the barracks, Recruit Quinn.”

“Colonel McKenna, this recruit is glad to be back, Colonel McKenna.” Her voice shakes when she talks. If she'd been with the company more than in the infirmary, she'd be over the nerves by now.

Matthews hovers in the doorway, a grin on his face, which means whatever is coming will likely not be good. I brace myself as best as I can.

“Recruit McKenna.”

“Colonel McKenna, yes, Colonel McKenna?”

He swallows hard, then continues, his eyes on my face but not meeting my gaze. “I'm going away for Thanksgiving.” He glances at Matthews and then back at me.

I don't know how to respond without getting chewed out by Matthews, so I remain still and silent.

“So, anyway, that's what I came to say. Have a good Thanksgiving. . . .”

When he turns to leave, I snap to attention. “Room! Attention!” My voice doesn't waver, but the room blurs when Jonathan disappears around the corner.

Matthews is still standing by the door, the grin changed to a full-fledged smile now. “Aw, sorry to hear that, McKenna. Guess you'll be about the only one on campus next week.” His laugh hangs in the room even after he leaves.

“So that does it,” Katie says, turning to me when we're alone again.

Blood rushes in my ears and I sit down at my desk, not sure my legs will hold me up anymore. “What?”

“You're coming home with me for Thanksgiving.”

But that's the last thing I want. “No. I mean, thanks for the invitation, but no.”

“Sam, you can't stay here alone. That's ridiculous. It's a
holiday
.”

“I
know
it's a holiday. And I'm going to spend it alone.” I can't go to a house where I don't know anyone—not this time. Not when it's the first Thanksgiving without Amos here. . . . I thought at least Jonathan would understand. “Just go home and have fun. We'll hang out when you get back, okay?”

I turn back to my desk, trying, once again, to focus on the paper that's due this afternoon that I don't even care about anymore. But to make sure Katie knows I'll be okay, I blink away the tears, pick up my pencil, and begin writing again.

TWENTY-ONE

I PULL ANOTHER HANDFUL OF CEREAL OUT OF THE BOX I'D
bought at the school store before everything shut down for break. Only about sixty-eight hours until everyone starts showing back up on campus. Not that I'm counting or anything.

It's my own damn fault, really, feeling this alone. I'd sworn Katie to secrecy—she wasn't allowed to tell Kelly that I'd be here by myself. I didn't even email Jax. If no one in my family cares enough about me to want to spend time with me, I'm not going to force my crappy mood on anyone else.