Rites of Passage (14 page)

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Authors: Joy N. Hensley

BOOK: Rites of Passage
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“Sam,” Rev says with a smile when I knock on his door. The smile fades, though, when he takes in my face. “Come in,” he says, standing to close the door behind me.

“I know you're probably getting ready for the service tomorrow. . . .” I let my voice trail off because I really don't want him to tell me to leave. He's the closest thing to Dad I have right now.

“How can I help?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I squint, trying to figure out the best way to say it. Like a Band-Aid, I guess. Just rip it off as fast as I can. “I lost my KB.”

“Oh.” He understands the magnitude of what's happened. I could be marching tours—hours of walking with a rifle as punishment—until Christmas for a violation this big. “Have you asked your corporal for one?”

“Matthews? No way. Besides, he knows.” And Drill probably knows by now, too.

His eyebrows shoot up, shock all over his face. “He
knows
? What is he doing about it?”

“Nothing yet.” I can still feel his breath on my neck, hear the snap of his teeth in my ears. “He's going to make me pay for it, though.”

“Maybe Jonathan could help?”

“I've got a meeting scheduled with him for Thursday.”

“I don't think this can wait that long, Sam. If Matthews tells—if more cadets find out you're without a KB . . .”

“I know.” I can't stop clenching my jaw, a throbbing in my temples building. “I just don't want to let Jonathan down.”

Rev smiles sadly, like he's heard this all before. “Which would be worse? Confessing up front or waiting until you're caught?”

I sigh and stand. “I know.”

“I would help if I could. . . .”

“Thanks anyway, Rev.”

“Good luck.”

When I leave Rev's office, I hear a guitar in the sanctuary. It's not Bekah, though, like I expect. Kelly's sitting up front, strumming quietly and singing along. “I didn't know you play.”

He smiles as I make my way to the front, singing the final words to a haunting, sad song that has my heart aching.

I can't stop myself from sitting next to him, leaning in to hear the quiet words he sings. “That was beautiful,” I say when he finishes the song.

He sets the guitar down beside him and scoots closer, leaning against me, his hand just next to my leg. “My brother likes it when I play.”

“Do you write?”

He shrugs. “Not really. I don't have time, you know?”

“We don't have time for anything anymore.” I'm not sure what made me say that—like I'm implying if we went to a normal high school that maybe we'd have time to see where this goes.

He links his fingers with mine and I tense. It's been pounded into our heads for almost two months that we are brothers and sisters and I can't get the thought to go away. But his hand is warm and strong and I wonder if things will change if I let this happen.

“My brother takes a lot of work. I try to do things with him all the time. I think that's one of the reasons I like being here. People get to see me separate from him. Here, I get to do something for myself. For once, I'm not the kid whose brother has Down's.” He shakes his head and laughs. “This is why you don't know I play. I get all introspective and weepy.”

I squeeze his hand. It's all I can give him right now. More than I
should
give him. “My dad's a Ranger. Jonathan is the cadet colonel—I know a little bit about expectations. But while you're running from them, it looks like I ran right smack into them, and I'm letting everyone down in the meantime.”

“What are you talking about?”

I turn toward him and lean in. “Promise you won't tell?”

“Of course not.” He's holding both my hands now, gently, like he's scared I'll break. It's not how I want to be held, like I need to be protected, but I can't make myself pull away.

“I lost my KB up on the mountain last night.”

“What?”

“It must have been when I fell. When we saw Matthews at the campfire and you helped me up. I didn't notice. . . .”

He lets go of one of my hands and reaches into his back pocket. “Take mine.”

“No way,” I say, trying to push the book back at him. “I can't take yours. You'll get yelled at.”

“I can take getting yelled at. They'll eat you alive.”

He's right and I know it. But owing him . . . God, it just pisses me off. I'm supposed to be doing this all on my own. “Thanks,” I say, taking the book and putting it in my back pocket. “I'll get it back to you Thursday, as soon as I get a new one from Jonathan, okay?”

“It'll be fine,” Kelly says, smiling at me despite how shitty I'm being. “I'll get another one.” When he reaches for me, lifting my chin so I have to meet his eyes, I know he's going to try to kiss me.

I touch the top of his head, rubbing his buzz cut playfully and trying to break the tension. “You need a haircut.”

He nods and closes his eyes, grabbing my hand and linking our fingers together again. When he leans closer, I try to scoot away. “Kelly, we're in the chapel. . . .” The words come out all breathy. I don't know what I want anymore.

“Then I'd better do this fast, huh?” His lips brush mine as he says the words and then I close my eyes because there's nothing else I can do.

The kiss isn't electric, but it's warm and gentle. An escape. Even though there are so many things wrong with this moment, so many reasons I should be saying no, I close my eyes and let him kiss me.

Too soon, or not soon enough, he pulls away. “I could do that all day,” he says. He's smiling like he won a state championship and I wish I felt the same.

“Wouldn't sound like a bad plan if I didn't need to study.”

He cups my face, planting a kiss on my nose. “Ouch.” His dimples make me smile. “But, considering I'm failing algebra, studying is probably better for me, too.” Standing, he reaches out a hand and pulls me to my feet, wrapping his arms around me. “But I'm not waiting two months to do that again, Mac. And next time, you won't be thinking about studying.” Then he's gone.

For a few minutes I had let myself pretend I was just a regular girl at a regular high school. So it wasn't fireworks and tingling fingers. But it was nice. What's so wrong with that?

With a missing KB, classes with Matthews, and Corps training, I'll be slammed back to reality soon enough.

FOURTEEN

MONDAY NIGHT WE ARE SUMMONED TO THE HALLWAY IN
our PT gear. We've got an hour until our nightly mandatory study hall and for once we've got no training planned. But being called on the wall by the corporals is never good. Kelly inches closer to me and I try not to notice. It doesn't work.

“In four days your parents will be crawling all over the DMA. They'll be holding your hands, kissing your cheeks, crying at how their little baby has grown up so much,” Matthews barks out in his military voice.

Even though Parents' Weekend is all we talked about yesterday, none of us are stupid enough to celebrate our upcoming cadre-free time out in the open like this.

“Now, we want to make sure good Alpha Company Worms know how to behave. We don't want you to lose your minds on your first weekend off campus with your families.”

“So,” Corporal Julius picks up. “There are a few rules we need to make sure you understand. Number one: You are to be in your dress uniform at all times this weekend, even in your hotel rooms. Is that understood?”

“Corporal Julius, yes, Corporal Julius!”

“Number two: When you are off campus, you will still salute the upperclass officers and speak with respect to any upperclassman you come in contact with.”

“Corporal Julius, yes, Corporal Julius!”

“And number three: You must keep an eye on your recruit sisters this weekend. All three of them. When they are out walking around, one of you will be with them at every moment.”

What the hell?

“Corporal Julius, yes, Corporal Julius!” My voice is just a second later than the rest of my recruit buddies. Katie's back in the infirmary and Cross is with the track team again, so I'm the one bearing the brunt of the attention.

“Your recruit sisters are your real sisters now. Would you want the scumbags who are in the other companies pawing all over them, trying to get them to give up the goods?”

It's like I just stepped into the 1950s or something, and it's all I can do not to show my reaction. “Corporal Julius, no, Corporal Julius!”

“Would you want your recruit sisters to willingly give up their goods to anyone who asked?”

My face warms under the inspection of my cadre. Do they know about me and Kelly? I shouldn't have let it happen at all, but if they know and are going to make us pay for it, then whatever happens now is our fault. Kelly stiffens next to me. My eyes flick toward Drill but he's not looking this way. I just hope he hasn't heard anything; I don't want to let him down. I've got to end whatever is going on between Kelly and me.

“So, just to make sure you all understand the bond of brotherhood, we're going to treat you to one of the most sacred activities of this institution. Are you ready?”

“Corporal Julius, yes, Corporal Julius!”

“He asked if you were ready!” Matthews yells. “I can't hear you! Jumping jacks, go!”

There's not a clock on the wall, but I count to seventy-two before we're allowed to stop.

“Now, are you ready?” Julius asks again.

“Corporal Julius, yes, Corporal Julius!”

“Not good enough! Drop and give me twenty!” Matthews barks.

We fall to the floor as one, pushing and counting in unison. When the set of push-ups is over, we jump to attention.

Drill stands silently in the middle of the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, the black drill sergeant hat he hasn't worn since our first day now pulled low on his head.

“That was the saddest excuse for team unity I've ever seen.” Matthews's voice is full of disgust. He walks to the end of the hall, pulling shut the fire doors that are always open, that we've been told can't be closed under any circumstances. The double doors at the other end of the hall clank shut, too. We're trapped. No adult on deck. No one to keep an eye on us. We're getting smoked.

“Alpha recruits.” Drill barks the words out, his eyes skimming over me so fast it's like he's
trying
not to look at me. He knows about Kelly or my KB. Maybe both. He's got to. And it makes me feel like crap—like I've disappointed him or let him down or something. “It's time to show us what you're really made of. That you can handle the rigors of the Corps and honor your recruit sisters at the same time. This next hour is just a
taste
of what will happen if you screw up this weekend. Is that understood?”

“Drill Sergeant Stamm, yes, Drill Sergeant Stamm!” Our voices echo around the hall. I hear laughing and shouting at the stairwells—upperclassmen, I'm guessing, though I don't dare take a look. They must be coming to watch.

Matthews walks back to the center of the hall and pushes play on a CD player. The song that played when the cadre introduced themselves on the PG that first day starts with its eerie bell, moving instantly into the hard rock song, the stereo so loud the words are too distorted to hear.

But it doesn't matter. We're past hearing in an instant anyway.

The commands come in rapid-fire succession. Jumping jacks. Sit-ups. Running in place. Push-ups. Flutter kicks. High knees. Planks. Hello Dollys.

The songs come one after another. Songs about Hell. Jungles. Torture. Hate. Apocalypse.

Slick with sweat, I slip on the floor the next time I have to move to a standing position. A hand reaches out to catch me.

“Easy, Mac.” Kelly sounds exhausted, but he helps me stand back up.

“Thanks,” I huff back. My legs tremble with fatigue, my arms can barely go above my shoulders anymore, but I do the jumping jacks anyway.

Wilson pukes at the other end of the hallway, the stink of it filling the air and hanging over our heads. We continue to push, flutter, and jump our way through the commands.

“High knees! Make it count!”

I don't even know who says it but my muscles respond on their own, which is good, because I'd rather die right here on the floor than move another inch. Running in place, my knees come up, touching my hands which I hold out in front of me.

“Higher,” Matthews snarls, grabbing me by the wrists and forcing my arms out at a ninety-degree angle.

I cry out, but raise my knees as high as I can after an hour of intense physical training, every muscle in my body shaking and straining for release. I'm determined not to fail tonight.

“Feel the pain, Alpha! Because if anything stupid happens this weekend—if something happens to your precious sisters, or if they allow something to happen to themselves—this is what you will feel every day until the end of the year.”

I finally get what Matthews is doing right now. With the weird rants. He's trying to get our fellow recruits to turn on us. Trying to make them see us as baggage, another responsibility they shouldn't have to worry about.

“Understand this hate in your muscles. Hate us all you want, but you will be a unit. You will work together as a whole. Enjoy rewards as a whole. Suffer consequences as a whole. This is the family you have been given by the almighty commandant. This is the family you will live with, eat with, sleep with, play with, and be punished with!”

“Drop your arms, McKenna,” Matthews says.

I do, and almost cry out with relief. But it's short-lived. He holds his arms out in front of him, a good three inches above where mine were. “Higher, McKenna. Do it right or don't bother doing it at all.”

I grit my teeth and continue running, forcing my knees higher. Sweat stings my eyes so I close them.

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