Fallacies, Book 1

Frightened by the sudden changes within the country, Natalie Matthews decides to become a part of the governing system to change it from within... Chapter 3

3

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He heads straight for the doors, no longer caring if I’m staying behind or not. As much as I would love to stay in the room while he leaves to get a moment away from him, I realize that I have no idea where to go from here. Reluctantly, I drag my feet forward and follow him out. He walks me back out of the corridor and to the main hall before turning to me again.

“Are you ready to go back to your parents and say goodbye?” he asks, gauging my reaction.

“Don’t really have a choice,” I say, still fired up a little bit inside.

“That’s not true,” he rebuts. “You have every choice. Are you positive that you can survive without seeing them for the next five weeks? It may be longer.”

“What, I can’t come visit?” The thought terrifies me. None of this was specified; just the part where I wouldn’t be able to live with them.

“Not for a while.” He becomes relaxes, almost sympathetic, but at this point, I don’t care. Exasperated and once again anxious from the new information he threw at me, I concede to the question, knowing that backing out will result in nothing but visiting a place that could potentially help me to reach my goal and change something of the system. It’s not as if he hasn’t given me the ideal opportunity to do so immediately.

“Then I guess I’m ready to say goodbye,” I answer quietly.

“Alright. Then let’s grab a car back.”

He leads us through the front doors and back across the path through the training grounds and to the gate. I figure that he’s about call for someone to take me back, but to my surprise, he motions one of the guards over from his position to talk with him.

“I need you to watch her for a few minutes,” Sean says to him carefully, making eye contact with him that might as well imply a threat.

“Yes, sir,” the guard responds, clearly getting the message behind the order.

Sean turns to me, giving me the same look. “I’ll be back.”

“Yup,” I answer mostly to mess with him.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion to my response, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes off, leaving me alone with the two soldiers. One of them continues to stand guard at the gate, practically oblivious to us, but the one Sean talked to stays barely two feet away from me, almost like he’s expecting me to try and leave, irritating me through his proximity and alertness. After several minutes of complete silence between us, I hear a motor roar and a sporty car with a red carbon fiber body wrap and a black grill rolls up with the passenger side window rolled down. Sean’s face becomes visible and I’m shocked to see that he’s driving a car that clearly doesn’t belong on a military base.

“Get in,” he calls. I make it through the gate and pull the passenger’s door open, sliding in. The interior looks amazing, with black heated fabric seats and a red trim across the pillars. “Buckle up. I don’t feel like having to show you why it’s necessary.” He revs the engine threateningly.

I take his word for it and quickly clip my seat belt in. Not a second later, he takes off, clearly uncaring about staying at a decent speed. Curiosity gets the better of me.

“Is this your car?” I ask, wondering if the military would actually customize vehicles to this extent for their First-In-Commands.

“Yeah,” he says happily. “It’s one of the perks of this place. You can afford to drive something other than a tank.”

“Somehow, I think that a tank is more expensive to drive.”

He laughs, taking a sharp turn onto the main city street. One cool thing about living in the city is that there are very few cars or people on the road at this time of night, so breaking distance isn’t ever a concern. As we pass the Stadium, I suddenly realize that he should have no idea where we’re going, yet he keeps on driving without a question. Even at the intersection at the edge of the City Square, he takes the correct turn. Within minutes, we’re onto my neighborhood street and cruising by all of the homes that feel so distantly familiar to me, as though I’m returning from an elongated vacation where everything went wrong. Before I can tell him which house is mine, he pulls in front of it, somehow managing a perfect parallel park without backing up or scraping the curb.

“Alright,” he announces, pulling the shift knob out of gear. “You’re home.”

“Thanks for the ride,” I say, deciding to question him about how he knew where I live later. He nods, but doesn’t move. I quickly remember that I have no idea what I’m supposed to do next or how long I have to stay here. “Are you coming in?”

“No. I’ll head back to base. I’ll see you at training.”

“OK. When is training, though? I really don’t know what we’re doing next.”

“Oh. I guess I never explained that.” His eyes widen and his body tensions up as if he just came out of a daze. “Training starts the day after tomorrow and you can start moving in tomorrow after 5 pm into your room. Make sure to bring all of your clothes and anything else you think that you’ll need. Pretend that you’re moving and grab what you’ll need for that, obviously leaving your desk and bed, etc.”

“Alright,” I say, my mind coming back to the reality that tonight is when I’m spending my last night together with my family.

I open the door and climb out of the car, which is much more difficult than I expect with the way the seat is cushioned. Once I’m finally on my feet, I turn around and lean down, holding onto the top of the door gingerly with my right hand and balancing myself with my left hand against both knees

“Thank you again,” I tell him, catching a slight sign of laughter on his face, probably at my expense.

I’m about to close the door to go in when a hand taps my left shoulder, making me jump in surprise. I quickly stand and spin around to see my dad behind me.

“Dad,” I gasp, startled. “You scared me.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” he says in a bit of a rush. “I wanted to talk with Sean for a moment if you don’t mind heading in.”

I shrug my shoulders and head towards the house, attempting to stabilize my heart. As soon as I climb the steps and turn the handle, my mom and brothers are all standing inside of the doorway, so the first thing I do is run over to give them a hug. My mom sweeps me inside and shuts the door, letting Ryan and Chris join in. I’m so glad to see them and the distinct feeling of home flows over me. Everything seems normal for a minute; the atmosphere, the warmth, all of the smells, and the memories. We go into the living room, where my family begins asking me questions about my program and where I’ll be staying. I tell them everything that I think is a good idea to discuss, in case I’m not supposed to reveal some details, with the assumption that they will unintentionally let the whole public know. Before they get a chance to get too detailed in their questions, the front door opens and my dad comes into the living room with Sean following a few moments later.

“Decided to come in after all?” I joke, surprisingly relieved to see him here. Maybe he can keep these questions at bay or answer some of them to give me an understanding of what I can actually say.

He looks more nervous than anything and shifts attention to my dad for support. I figure that him coming in must be my dad’s idea. Although, it does surprise me that he agreed.

“I invited Sean to stay for dinner,” my dad answers for him, catching onto his expression.

“Well, I will gladly help Mom set up,” I announce, happy to have an excuse to leave the room. I turn to my mom and we both get up to start heading towards the kitchen.

“Actually,” my dad says suddenly. “Natalie, could you stay behind? Boys, would you mind helping your mother set up instead?”

“Yeah,” Ryan says, getting off the couch with Chris. “Sure, Dad.” They disappear into the kitchen with my mom and I approach Dad and Sean.

“What’s up?” I ask, looking between them. Sean continues to look nervous, while my dad is a little flustered.

“This is something that will take a toll on all of us,” my dad starts. “So, please don’t mistake my hurry for anything other than trying to make things go more smoothly for you.” I give him a questioning look, trying to understand what he’s referring to. “Check-in time to your room starts tomorrow at 5 pm and you’re going to be leaving us for a while.” His voice starts to break, tugging at my heart more than I expect it to. “I want you to know that I love you and want things to go as easily as possible for you. So, I want to take tonight to spend as much time with you as possible and of course get to know your instructor, find out what you’re doing, visiting times, everything, but I also wanted to make sure you got help packing. I know it’s not something you do overnight, even though that is a requirement.”

“Dad,” I cut in before he can continue. “I won’t leave without giving you all that information and packing won’t be a problem. I love you, but I think that we should sit or head to dinner. No offense, Sean, but you look really uncomfortable.”

Sean looks at me with the same nervous expression and I question whether pointing that out to get my dad to put him more at ease was a good idea.

“Not at all,” he says quickly, evidently attempting to alleviate the awkward tension.

“She’s right, though,” my dad says, motioning us to the couch. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Everyone is emotionally wrapped up in their thoughts and my mind races back to the question I had for Sean on the road down from the Stadium. I can’t imagine my dad walking up to his car as he did or inviting him to dinner without good reason. There seems to be a connection between them that makes me question if they know each other. I start to worry that not finding out now when Sean can’t shut me down will lead up to three years of questioning.

“So, Dad,” I start, taking advantage of Sean’s hesitation at talking. “Sean said that he’s from Ves. Do you know his family?”

Both faces turn to me, my dad’s in surprise and the other’s in something that resembled fury. It’s amazing how quickly he’s able to snap out of a mood. Technically, I promised I wouldn’t ask questions, but this one is for my dad and shouldn’t affect anything, especially if they do truly know each other. At least, that’s what I have to make myself believe now that I’ve asked it.

“Yes, actually,” my dad responds. My eyes immediately go to him, wanting to prod him for more information while I can, but I don’t have to. “His father was a good friend of mine and we lost touch about four years ago. When I saw Sean’s face at the parade, I knew exactly who he was, which is why I let you talk to him about joining.”

“Wow,” I say, completely surprised by the detail of that. My dad has always been one to talk, though, which is one of the great things about him. “I never realized that. Have I met them?”

“Oh no, no. We would visit them occasionally when we got out of the house, but I don’t think that they’ve ever met you or your brothers. Why the interest?”

Sean looks at me for an explanation too, causing me to think through my answer for a second. “It seemed like you knew him.” I try to keep all focus on my dad to make the response more natural. “So, I figured I would ask while I had the opportunity. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Actually, it was primarily Sean that had something to say. I wanted to spend time with you before tomorrow.”

Of course, that forces me to focus back on Sean, who doesn’t seem to have moved a muscle from when I last glanced at him. I catch the same bit of anger in his eyes as before, but it’s not evident in his voice, making me hopeful that I’m just imagining it.

“After talking with me,” Sean explains in a calm tone. “Your father thought that it might be a good idea to prepare you for tomorrow as far as moving in and assuring your mother and brothers that where you’ll be staying is safe. In the end, we thought it would be helpful if I helped you pack, assuming you were OK with that, of course.”

With each word he speaks, it sounds less like a question than information on what will be happening. The result of him helping me pack will create two outcomes; him seeing my room and him getting a moment of time alone with me to rip me apart for my question. Either one will suffice as the worst night ever, something that my dad doesn’t seem to notice. Sean continues to wait for an answer and I realize that I’m not going to get away without a response.

“Of course,” I say. “I don’t mind at all.” It causes Sean to smile a little, while somehow maintaining that look in his eyes. “Maybe we should get to it after dinner, Dad?” My hope is that the time will stretch his desire to talk with me as long as possible until he forgets or loses interest in helping.

“Let me check with your mother,” my dad says. “Dinner might not be done for a little bit.” He gets off the couch and heads to the kitchen before I have a chance to do anything more than open my mouth to speak. The second he gets over that threshold, Sean gravitates my eyes back to his despite my best efforts to keep them down to myself.

“You couldn’t leave it alone?” he whispers as loud as possible. I just smile, pulling my eyes onto the floor. Thankfully, my dad walks back in a few seconds later.

“So it looks like your mom will be in there for another half-hour or so,” he delivers the worst news possible. “If you guys want to head up and start packing, it will get that out of the way and we can spend time together for the rest of the evening without that over our heads. Natalie, I know you like to think that you have a lot of stuff to bring with you, but please leave it to the essentials. No CDs or makeup or anything. And Sean, you don’t have to go up at all if you’d rather just sit here. I’m sure that Natalie can handle it.”

“Dad,” I say to him a little too sharply, slightly embarrassed that he had to make that point. “I haven’t worn makeup for years. I just have it there. But he’s right.” I turn back to Sean. “I can take care of packing.”

“No,” Sean answers insistently, crushing all hope of taking a moment away from him. “It’s fine. I’d be happy to help.”

With no leverage to argue, we both get up and leave the living room. I lead him up the stairs, careful to keep a step or two ahead of him for my own sanity. The staircase feels increasingly heavy to walk on as memories flood back with the numerous pictures hanging on the wall on either side of the railing. As much as I want to quickly sprint up to get to work and avoid more awkwardness, leaving them without a second look is hard, even though I haven’t actually been away yet to miss them. When I reach the top, the carpeted hallway feels warm and inviting. I pick up my pace to reach my door faster and swing it open, only to have the shock of seeing my room hit me. This will be the last night I will ever sleep in here. The last time that I will walk to my desk to dump my school books by the computer and ignore them until the night before something is due has already passed and I somehow miss it. I miss the prospect of college. My plush, metallic-blue bed looks so comforting that I want to just spring onto it and fall asleep for the next week. Even the mirror on my closet gives me a heart-wrenching feeling. It’s the first thing I want to pack with me, even though it’s not a practical essential in anyone’s mind but mine. Of course, keeping up my room was never something that I was good at. As a result, some clothes are sprawled onto my chair, thankfully not on the floor, and paper from a bunch of hand drawings and messed up homework assignments are thrown on my bed with pencil and eraser marks on top. All of it makes me a little embarrassed and has me wishing that Sean would have stayed downstairs, but he’s right behind me, getting a look of the chaos before I can pick it up. I decide to run to my closet and grab out my gym back, my designated suitcase by preference. It’s bright-pink with two small handles and can miraculously hold half of my wardrobe, plus a couple pairs of shoes. I lay it gently onto the bed, run over to the chair supporting my clothes, and without bothering to fold them well, shove them inside. One thing I refuse to do is leave a single piece of clothing behind, which reminds me that I need to search the laundry room for any remnants that my mom hasn’t gotten to yet.

“You think that was clever?” Sean asks incredulously, starting on the rant that I had been anticipating before I get a chance to grab anything else from my closet. I take a seat on my bed, preparing myself for the rest of it. “You promised not to ask questions like that and that’s the first thing you do when you know I can’t say anything in front of your dad. Do you have any idea how rude that was?” He pauses, waiting for an answer, but I just continue to listen, knowing that whatever I say won’t be a reasonable explanation to calm him down. He tenses more. Apparently, it isn't a strategy he approves of. “Talk to me. This isn’t a one-sided conversation.”

“You made me promise not to ask questions because you don’t think I’ll know who to confide in,” I point out. “I’ve lived with my dad for seventeen years. I can trust him. Besides, it’s not like I said anything bad. It was just a question.”

“It’s a question that I refused to give you an answer to for a reason. You think it was fine to ask it right in front of me like that?”

“Well, I would have done it when you weren’t there, but I doubted I would get a moment with him before I left and I wanted to see your reaction to it. Why didn’t you just tell me that my parents knew yours?”

“Because it was none of your business.” At this point, his voice is getting louder from irritation and I know it’s time for this conversation to end.

“That’s your opinion. I’m sorry that I offended you by asking him. It won’t happen again. I’m going to keep packing.”

With that, I get up and head back to my closet, making a mental note to take the mirror when he's not here. I make several more trips to the closet before he moves from where he stands. The next thing I know, he pulls clothes out of my bag, dumps them all on my bed, and sits down.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I say, coming over in alarm. “What are you doing?”

He doesn’t stop to even respond, clearly still fuming. I watch as he grabs a shirt, folds it, and puts it in a pile. That makes me smile, so I carry my pile over to the other edge of the bed and dump it behind him. Three trips later, every bit of clothing is on the bed. I sit down on the other edge and help him build the piles. For a guy, he’s exceptionally efficient at this. As soon as we finish, I start on my shoes, but he doesn’t make that easy either.

“No,” he says from behind me. “Not those. Leave the heels here. You’re going to training, not a pageant.” A pair of hands reach ahead of me, one grabbing a pair of boots and the other edging me away from the closet entirely. I throw my hands up in the air and cross the room to sit down in the chair by my computer, letting him finish packing. Soon enough, the closet gets closed with anything worthwhile to me still inside, leaving only running shoes and all of my clothes outside.

Sean looks from the mess over at me.

“Aren’t you going to help?” he asks, motioning to the piles.

“I thought you didn’t want me to do it with how much you're taking over,” I say sarcastically. “I mean, if you’d prefer I didn’t stare at you, I can always play games on my computer.”

“I was just trying to make it quick. Come do the rest. I don’t feel comfortable grabbing some stuff out of there; like socks.”

I know he’s referring to underwear that I completely forgot about, so I quickly go over to the closet, grabbing my bag on the way, and dump all of my underwear, socks, and bras inside. Sean’s occupied behind me piling my clothes together, so I grab my favorite pair of 2 inch silver heels and throw them in my bag, carefully covering them up with some underwear so he doesn’t try and move them. Who knows; maybe they’ll come in handy eventually. Inconspicuously, I put my bag on the bed and start putting piles of clothes inside. Once it’s full, I grab a large beach bag for the rest, which easily fits the rest inside.

“So now the shoes,” I say out loud, looking around for another bag to use. There are five pairs, so they won’t fit inside the ones we already have.

“Out of bags?” he asks, looking around the room as if one will magically appear.

“Yeah. Let me run down and see if my parents have something for me to borrow.”

I leave Sean in my room for a minute and head to the kitchen. Of course, my mom has a bunch of solutions to store my things, including huge suitcases that I dread having to drag around. Thankfully, Ryan has a much better option. He returns from his room with a large superhero backpack that looks to be around the same size as my gym bag. I gladly take it, thankful for a reminder of him. With how often Ryan carries books or uses it, I know it won’t be missed. I kiss him on the forehead and happily go back upstairs. Sean is just sitting on my bed, looking across the room at a bunch of books I have sitting on a shelf nailed to the wall. I come over and sit beside him.

“This should work,” I say, fitting shoes into the backpack.

“Nice,” he agrees. “I’m guessing that you’re not the one into superheroes.”

I smile back at him. “I am, but it’s not my backpack.”

That seems to surprise him a little bit. With everything major packed, I get up and do a one-over my room. There are some CDs, but I realize that I can’t do much with them once my CD player runs out of batteries. Books can’t come in handy and taking any stuffed animals with me is a recipe for disaster with how easily they could get lost or stolen. I open up my computer drawers in search of trinkets and find a necklace that my mom gave me a couple of years ago; a silver chain with a metal heart on it, complete with a sapphire gem. Without hesitation, I put it around my neck and continue checking the drawers. When nothing else crucial shows up, I grab two bags and start to balance them to get the third, when Sean picks it up for me.

“Is there anything else you can’t leave without?” he asks.

I take a moment to make sure, wishing that I could just take my whole room with me, bed and pillows included. It’s not going to happen, though, so I shake my head no.

“You’ll be gone for a few years,” he reminds me. “Are you positive?” Whether he likes it or not, I’m going to come visit. So, if I really do remember something imperative, I’ll grab it then. He can’t know that, though, in case it shows lack of dedication to the military. So, I nod in response in case my voice gives my motives away. Thankfully, he seems convinced “Alright. Then let’s get these downstairs.”

He heads down ahead of me. When I reached the doorframe, I take one more look inside and shut the lights off. The walk down is a lot heavier, not because of the two bags I’m carrying, but because of the weight I feel in my gut from leaving a bedroom that I've called mine for the past seventeen years. We drop my bags off at the foot of the stairs and go into the living room. I sit down on the couch facing the TV, crossing my legs to relax, while Sean takes the couch the farthest from me. As much as I want to turn on TV and drown reality out, I keep my ears sharp for any sounds coming from the kitchen, listening to occasional noise my family makes setting up dinner. It isn’t too long before my mom steps into the living room to announce that dinner is ready. I walk in to the smell of mashed potatoes, salmon with lemon seasoning, and steamed asparagus. Plates are already set up at the counter, so I pick one up and hand it to Sean, dishing myself first so he doesn’t feel as awkward about it. To my surprise, he sits right next to me at the dining table, rather than by my dad, and talks quite a bit. It’s interesting to find out that he used to go to the same school as me before getting recruited, that he ranked at the top of his class in training, and enjoys racing. Although, the latter comes as no shock to me. My dad talks with him as if he’s just another friend, but also as if he’s responsible for him in the way that he asks about his high school grades and how happy he is in his job position. After dinner, I grab everyone’s dishes and put them in the dishwasher, happy to do this one final task at home.

“Mom,” I ask when she comes to wash her hands in the sink. “Can we check for clothes left in the laundry room? I want to make sure I have everything with me.”

“Sure, sweetie,” she says in a sad voice, smiling at me with an attempt at hiding it. “I’ll take care of it once everyone’s getting ready for bed.”

I look up at the digital clock on the stovetop to see that it’s already getting close to 11 pm. Everyone starts relocating back to the living room for TV. I’m the last out of the kitchen and sit down in the only available spot next to Sean. He acknowledges me for a second and turns his attention back to the TV, getting consumed in a criminal investigation drama.

The clock by the window behind me continues crouching to midnight and no one moves, not even to change the channel. I start to wonder how much longer we can be awake or how long Sean will stay before returning to base, when my mom glances at the clock too, instantaneously coming over to put her hand on Sean’s shoulder.

“Sean,” she says loud enough for just the two of us to hear. “Your bed’s set up in the guest room whenever you get tired.”

“Oh,” he says, caught off guard. “Thank you, Mrs. Matthews, but I should get back to base. I didn’t even notice the time. Thank you for having me for dinner. Everything was great.”

“I'd really prefer that you didn't drive back this late. Dan mentioned that you should stay the night.”

Sean looks at my dad, perplexed, unsure of how to respond.

“I just expected us to be up pretty late,” my dad answers assuredly. “Besides, I can’t let my best friend’s son drive back at this hour, especially with how much he’s helping my daughter.”

“Helping your daughter is my pleasure,” Sean insists, I think more for an excuse to get out of here than anything. “I’ll be fine on the way back.”

I can tell that he’s getting uncomfortable, edging to leave to his own home, but my parents aren’t that easy to reason with even when they should be. My mom reaches into her pants pocket for a quarter. She always carries one around to negotiate with my brothers and dad. It’s a good way to determine who gets their way.

“How about this,” she says. “I’ll toss the quarter. If it flips heads, then you stay for the night, and if it’s tails, you can choose whether you’d like to leave or stay. Deal?”

“Umm,” he says uncertainly, probably never having encountered this kind of scenario. “OK.”

“Great.” She tosses the quarter into the air and catches it, bringing it closer for him to see. “Heads. I guess you stay. Again, though, there is no rush to go to bed; just whenever you get tired.”

“Alright. Thank you. I appreciate that.” He must realize that he can’t argue his way out of this as my mom walks back to kiss my dad goodnight, hugging me and my brothers one last time, and heading to bed.

“That’s usually how we get things resolved in this house,” I explain to Sean, smiling at the ridiculousness of the situation. “I’m going to bed. So, goodnight. Thank you for everything today.”

“You’re welcome,” he says in a much lighter mood. “Have a good night.”

He smiles as I kiss my dad and brothers and walk upstairs.  

Author's Note

Lots of questions were left untouched last chapter. Now that we have some background, what do you guys think will happen next?