Rites of Passage (40 page)

And once again, like so many times before, I dissolve into tears at my father's words. I cling to him until the tears stop falling, and then I cling to him some more.

 

After two hours, I finally find the strength to leave Dad's office. I thought I'd be walking back to the barracks on my own after spending so long with him, but Jonathan's still there. And Drill. My heart pounds but I don't care anymore. I'm as good as a cadet now. I run down the stairs and Drill opens his arms, waiting.

When Jonathan clears his throat, I pull away.

Drill doesn't smile, his military bearing strong and locked down, even though his eyes are sparkling. “Mac.”

Jonathan smiles. “Like the new commandant?”

I take two steps, throwing my arms around Jonathan. “You knew?”

He nods, talking quietly. “Mom's in D.C. Walter Reed has a rehab wing.”

“Thank you,” I whisper into his ear. Dad's home, Mom's getting help. Maybe things are working out after all. “Thank you, Colonel.”

He pulls away. “What did you call me?”

“Colonel. Getting you your rank back is the least I could do.”

“You mean . . .” And then it's him reaching for me, pulling me in for a hug.

“Bekah's being invited back, too. They're drumming out everyone but Matthews tonight,” I say when we're done with all the hugging. “General Matthews was in there—it was rigged from the beginning.”

“I'm sorry, Sammy,” Jonathan says.

“I'll deal with it next year. Tomorrow we get recognized.”

Drill holds out an envelope to me.

“What's this?”

“Open it, McKenna. That's an order.”

“Yes, Drill Sergeant.”

The paper is thick and impressive. The black words scripted across the card invite me to attend the Recognition of Alpha Company recruits into Alpha Company proper. I can't believe it. My pulse quickens, but this time it's not from fear. “Is this for real?” I see from the grins on their faces that it is.

“There was never any doubt in Alpha's mind that you guys would make it through the year. They've been printed for weeks. Your recruit buddies are at the top of House Mountain now, but refused to be recognized until you were able to join them. If you want to go, we've got to go now.”

“Back up there? I was just there two days ago,” I whine.

Drill laughs. “Ready?”

I smile, throwing my arms around Jonathan once more.

“That's one hell of a dare you took on, Sammy.”

“I didn't complete it, though, not really. I didn't get recognized on my own. Didn't pass the Worm Challenge on my own.”

“As a McKenna, I proclaim the dare passed with flying colors. If anyone has any questions about it, send them to me, okay?” He laughs and spins me around before planting me back on the ground.

 

Drill parks his car on a fire road and we walk hand in hand the last mile up House Mountain. When we're almost at the top, he stops and turns toward me, dropping my hand. “I need to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I talked with your father on the phone yesterday. He told me not to tell,” Drill says, holding his hands out in front of him to ward off an attack. “And your dad is still pretty damn scary.”

“What did he need to talk to you about on the phone?” Could he have found out about us? The thought's ridiculous, but I can't help but wonder what he'd think of me crushing on my drill sergeant. The last thing I want is to let him down now.

“The normal cadet nomination process is being put aside for next year. He wants me to be cadet colonel.”

“That's great!” I reach out for his hand and link our fingers together again. “I know you didn't want it, but you're going to be a great colonel.”

He toes the ground with a combat boot, squeezing my hand before pulling away.

“It isn't great?”

He won't meet my eyes. I've never seen this unsure Drill before. Confident? Yes. Pissed? Definitely. But this insecurity? It doesn't suit him at all.

“Sure. It's great. It'll look great on my application to West Point and when I become an officer in the Army.”

“But . . . ?”

He reaches his hand toward me, and I reach mine to his, our fingertips grazing each other's but not connecting, just like everything else with him this year. “But whatever this is . . . whatever we could be . . . it can't happen now. Not if I'm cadet colonel.”

“You'll outrank me again.”

“I will.”

I break a little bit as the words tear at my heart. I want him to reach out once more, to feel his arms around me. I want the promise of his lips on me again. But he doesn't make the move. And neither do I. It doesn't matter when or where we would try to date, rank and duty would always get in the way.

He nods, knowing I've put it together. His eyes are sadder than I've ever seen them. “Go on,” he urges. “Your recruit buddies are waiting. I've got to meet up with Huff and the rest of the upperclass Alpha to get ready.” He steps onto a side path that heads farther into the woods. He gives me one more sad smile, and it's all I can take. I have to turn away.

Nix, Ritchie, Kelly, Bekah, and all the others stand around the campfire they've built. Kelly smiles and waves me over.

The whole year I thought I had to be strong on my own here, but as I walk toward my company, knowing Dad's home, that my mom's going to be okay, that Jax is a kick-ass hacker, that Bekah's back on the DMA grounds, I realize that being strong can mean a lot of different things. Amos would have been proud I'd figured that out. I wish he had, too. Bekah breaks away from the group and meets me halfway.

“How'd you get here so fast?” I ask when I get close enough for my roommate to hear me.

“I was at Kelly's house, trying to figure out how to tell my parents I was going to go to jail. Your brother called when you started up here and Kelly's mom drove me up.” Bekah gives me a tentative smile and I put my arm around her shoulders, squeezing. Together we walk to the campfire. When they see us coming, a cheer goes up from the guys who brought me out of hell, and I smile.

It takes a second to blink away the tears, to calm myself down, but it feels right, being up on this mountain with Alpha. I deserve this moment.

It doesn't matter what happens next year or even after that. We're Alpha. We're family.

And we've
earned
this.

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Did you guys know it takes a battalion to write a military school book? Well, it does. And there are hundreds of people who fall within its ranks. I know I'm forgetting people and I'll be eternally humiliated when I realize who you are. Consider yourselves thanked and appreciated appropriately now, in spite of my faulty memory. I am forever grateful for everyone who has walked in and out of my life and helped get me where I am today.

To my colonel, Jennifer Klonsky. You believed in this little soldier of a story when she was just a Worm. Your leadership made her the shining cadet she is today.

To my drill sergeant, Agent Awesome herself, Mandy Hubbard. You kicked my butt when I was slacking, you gave me encouragement when I wanted to give up. Sam wouldn't have made it past Hell Week if it weren't for you. She and I both want to thank you for not letting us quit.

To Admin Company, those behind-the-scenes people at HarperTeen who got this book into your hands and made it so pretty that even a tomboy like Sam would squee at the mere sight of it. Catherine Wallace, Ruiko Tokunaga, Melinda Weigel, Christina Colangelo, Rosanne Romanello, and the amazing sales force behind this book have made my words strong, fierce, and able to go into the world on their own. Thank you.

To my fellow Worms in the trenches of the publishing industry: each and every one of you has proven yourself willing and ready for the challenges. Thanks for all the buddy carries. I couldn't have gotten through this without you.

Brigid Kemmerer and Lee Bross—agency-sisters and incredible writers in your own rights. Thank you for taking the time to read, listen, speak, email me pep talks and pep pictures, and slap me across the Twitter face when I wasn't writing like I should have been.

Charity Thamaseb—I don't know how I was lucky enough to score a friend like you. You taught me how to find my voice and then listen to it, and you hooked me up with the best agent a girl could have.

Copil—You breathed life into the Society, my friend. There's not much more to say other than I miss you beyond words. Scotland has gained an incredible guy, even if you won't wear a kilt and think it's weird to be outside.

Jodi—knitter and pep-talker and no-bs-taker. You snorted and O.Oed and squeed at all the right moments. Even when you told me something I wrote sucked, you made me smile. You are the best cousin-by-marriage I have ever had. I wouldn't trade you for anything. Unless there were cupcakes involved. No, not even then.

Kristin Martin, Mandie Baxter, and John Hansen—the best CPs a girl could have. Your vision brought the DMA to life. Especially a certain, ahem, sweatpants scene, Mandie. That's all you, girlfriend. Never, never give up!

Martin—Holy hell, pigs are flying! Thank you for the positive thoughts, the positive words, the positive actions. You saw me through more than one bad day and sat with me countless times in our airport writing cave. Your unwavering belief in Sam's story and in my writing has changed me in ways I can't begin to explain.

Megan Crane—who made me realize, whether she knows it or not, that I could actually write a book.

Spence—You are the tattoo king. Thank you for spending hours tinkering with an idea I didn't know how to explain. You're the best!

Will the soldiers in Friend Company please stand up?

Alpha Company of Norwich University—my family and friends. It's been years, but I think of you often. I'm still amazed that I made it through. I'm smart enough to know that you all are the reason why. GTE.

Bekah—Thanks for letting me borrow your name. You are my first fan and gave me my first fan mail—in Spanish, even! I hope other people think my
libro
is
fantástico
, too.

Bre and Byron—Any mistakes in military structure, either at the DMA or in the military, are not from your lack of trying but from my severe inability to comprehend. Thanks for trying to explain something so complicated to a simpleton like me.

Joanna—You still owe me $25 for surviving the year. You know that, right?

The Millenium Rooks of Norwich University. This book wouldn't be here without you.
Essayons.

Ollie and Tarascio, Rook brothers extraordinaire. Your guidance, memories, and understanding of military rank structure are worth more than all the Rook Books at the Wick.

Last, but certainly not least, may I present for Pass and Review, the soldiers of Family Company:

Bear—Thank you for not coming to get me the millions of times I called, in hysterics, begging to come home. I know it must have killed you. And I'm sorry. For the cuss words, for putting Sam through what I did. It's just . . . writing happy stories just isn't what I am meant to write. I hope you like Sam anyway. She's strong because of how you taught me to be strong.

Daddy—for giving me the courage, hope, and a belief in myself that only a father can give a daughter. I hope you're proud that, even though I've missed a few steps here and there, I'm finally dancing.

John and Gayle—You gave me your son, who taught me to be brave and reach for my dreams. I'm sorry I keep him half a world away from you, but I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the gift. I promise to cook dinner for once . . . just as soon as I'm done writing my next book.

Nan-Nan—Thanks for the early birthday present. So I almost died spending a night on the side of a hill during a lightning storm. Holding this book in your hands is proof that the near-death experience was worth it. I loved that birthday present more than any other.

Peggy—Thank you for the blanket under which I NANOWRIMO-ed most of the book. Your love kept me warm even when I had to put Sam through some serious . . . stuff.

Yames—Sam didn't have a sister, but maybe if she had, she would have believed in herself more. Thank you for seeing something in me that I still can't see sometimes. You make me believe in myself. Know what I'm talkin' aboot? Love you.

To S, X, and B—I know you're not in alphabetical order, and I know it'll probably bug me for the rest of my life, but I did have to save you for last. Because you let me be a crazy writer shut in a room while you guys played in a messy, neglected house or disappeared because Mommy just needed a few hours alone with the voices in her head. I couldn't have done any of this without you three ready to catch me if I stumbled. Every word in here is for you, because without you, there'd be no point.

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