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 5

5

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Most of my thoughts are still thrown around in my mind when my parents come out in about an hour to check up on me, bringing me inside for actual breakfast. I devour my tomato and bacon Panini within a few minutes and spend the rest of the afternoon inside. The sun shifts a little to the side, peering in through the living room window and the first street lights decide to kick on hours too early to shine a path for passing cars. Time passes quickly and as I glance out the window every once in a while, I can see traffic starting to settle down. Thinking that I hear a motor roar, I leave my spot on the couch, hurry out into the entrance hall, and peek out of the window beside the door. A set of headlights crawl up to the house, belonging to the sports car that drove away this morning. The engine turns off and a minute later, the driver’s door opens. Wanting to know where he’s been all day, I step out of the front door and descend half of the steps to meet him. Sean climbs out of the car, his hair just as messy as this morning, and sets the alarm with a loud beep, before walking over to the steps of the house. I expect him to walk past me inside with how our last conversation went, but he just stands here, his eyes linked with mine. There is no sign of frustration anymore, but he does look at me accusingly, clearly remembering this morning just fine. It doesn’t help that I feel guilty about it, mainly because I managed to make him leave. I come down those last few steps to stand in front of him, looking up at his face.

“I’m sorry,” I say sincerely. After a few seconds, my eyes move down from his face, ready for him to say nothing. To my surprise, he exhales in resignation and puts his arms around me in an embrace. I close my eyes, my mind coming into focus. I can’t contemplate why he’s hugging me, but the sensation of his arms wrapped around me is incredibly comforting.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, taking a step back from me and grabbing his cell phone out of a pocket from his uniform jacket, turning on the screen lock to show me the time.

“Umm,” I say, still adjusting to what happened. “Yeah. I just have to grab a couple last things and I’m set.” The time is already 4:15 and if check-in is at 5, then I doubt that either my parents or I will make it on time.

“I’ll start moving your things to the car. Where are your bags?”

I point to the house. “By the stairs, where we left them before.”

“And do they include anything other than clothes?” he questions skeptically, starting to catch on to the fact that I did nothing all day.

I give him two thumbs up and rush to get inside, organizing a list of everything I have to grab before he gets a chance to get through the three bags on the floor.

“Toothbrush,” I rattle off to myself out loud, going straight for the bathroom. “Hairbrush, toothpaste, perfume, shampoo…”

Finding everything is easy, but seeing as I forgot a bag to carry it all in, I have to balance it on the way back.

“Mom!” I yell as I reach the top of the steps, careful to go down.

She doesn’t answer, making me that much more flustered at the deadline. By the time I reach the end of the stairs, two of my three bags are already gone and the door is opening, presumably Sean coming back for the last one. I run for the living room before he can spot me, accidentally dropping my hairbrush in the threshold in the process. It thuds loudly a couple of times, but I ignore it and keep going, thinking that it will be a lot easier to pick up when I don’t have all of this stuff to carry. I dash into the kitchen and dump all of my things on the counter, raiding the bottom cabinet of the sink for plastic grocery bags to stuff everything into. For the first time, none are there and so I straighten up to go find my mom when Sean walks into the kitchen, arms crossed and eyeing my stuff on the counter. I catch sight of my hairbrush in his left hand. He's grasping it like he just found an incriminating piece of evidence against me.

“It’s everything,” I assure him. “I just need to find one more bag.”

“You know that I’ve been gone for eight hours, right?” he asks in a clipped tone, apparently taking this a lot more seriously than I hoped.

I hesitate, questioning if I should even answer, considering that he has a right to be annoyed.

“It slipped away,” I conclude. I think he’s going to argue, so I decide to try yelling again before things get too awkward. “Mom!”

“What is it, honey?” she asks, hurrying into the kitchen.

“I need a bag for my stuff,” I explain, pointing to the pile on the counter.

“There’s one in the laundry room on the drier. You can use that.”

“OK,” I reply, rushing to get it. It’s exactly where she had said, but looking at the pile of clothes in the hamper, I can make out a few of my things. Groaning to myself, I run back into the kitchen with the bag. “I got it.” After throwing everything into it, I look up at my mom accusingly, wondering why she didn’t want to touch the rest of my clothes after offering to last night. “But my other clothes in the laundry "”

“They will be washed when you come to visit,” she explains. “I thought you had enough with three bags worth. It’ll give you motivation to come visit sooner.”

“I’ll miss you,” I say, closing the distance between us and hugging her as tightly as I can. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s in the other room, but he and your brothers will be there to see you off as soon as you’re ready.”

I pause, failing to make sense of the sentence. “Wait, see me off? I thought you were coming to drop me off?”

“Honey, we can’t go on base. We could drop you off at the gate, but that would make it harder than seeing us in your home, rather than on a dirt road waving you off, wouldn’t it?”

“No,” I say adamantly, questioning how she could think that. “I wanted you there.” I turn to Sean, realizing that he left all day to give me time to be with them. He knew about this. “That’s what you meant by I’ll be back in a while, isn’t it?” He nods, confirming my suspicion. Giving him a quick glare, I look back at my mom. “Mom, are you serious about this?”

“Yes,” she says apologetically, as if it will somehow soften the blow. “I am. It’ll be easier this way.”

“For who? You and Dad?”

“It’s not just us. We thought it would be an easier way for you to settle.”

“Who’s we?”

My mom looks anxious when she responds, “Myself, your dad, and Sean.”

I can’t believe my ears. Not only did he know about this, but he helped in the decision. After staring him down with a death glare, I realize that I can either be upset with their decision or make the best of the time we have together, especially now that it’s being cut to about two minutes.

“OK,” I sigh, my entire mood collapsed. “If that’s what everyone wants, then let’s say goodbye. Sean, I’m fully ready. This was the last of my stuff.”

He gladly leads me out of the kitchen and to the front door, getting ready to head to the car, before my dad asks him to stay behind for a word. When they finish talking out of earshot at the edge of the room, my dad comes over to hug me, followed by Mom, Chris, and Ryan. Each one is progressively harder than the other to let go.

“Natalie,” my dad says, putting his hands on my shoulders. “We love you and will always be here for you. The reason we’re saying goodbye here isn’t because it’s easier for us to let you go early. It’s because we want you to remember us in this home so that you always have warm memories to come back to. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” I acknowledge, seeing no point in arguing how time matters more than convenience.

My mom comes in for one last hug.

“Come visit us every chance you get,” she says, tears swelling in her eyes, at risk of falling. “Alright?”

“Of course, Mom,” I say, hugging her harder than ever before. “Always.”

She’s the last one of them holding me to this house and as she steps back to break our embrace, I know that it’s time to go. Something in me breaks and I hand my bag to Sean, before running past them and up the stairs to my room. This time, I don't bother reminiscing over the things I'm going to leave. My hands secure the frame of the mirror hung against my closet door and lift it off the hook. I hug it to my chest, back facing out, and walk right out of my room like it's not goodbye. Confused looks catch me the second that I reach the stairs, but I ignore them, hurrying to resume my place by the door. Forcing a smile when all I feel capable of is tearing up, I wave to my family and tear my eyes from them, walking outside with Sean holding the door open for me. I stop at the edge of the stairs to take a long look at the house, not knowing when I will get to see it again, but it quickly seems pointless, like I’m holding onto something that I’ll never actually have to let go of. Sean somehow manages to get ahead of me, indicating that I must be a lot slower than I feel. He waits patiently by the trunk, grabbing my mirror from me once I approach. I open the passenger side door without invitation this time and climb in as I did last night. He climbs into the driver’s seat and quickly takes off, as if lingering is somehow a bad thing in his mind. My eyes follow my home until it’s indiscernible in the right-side mirror, fading away into a line of homes disappearing behind. It’s not until I focus my eyes to the road ahead that I realize that I have been crying. I hurriedly wipe my eyes on the sleeve of my jacket and try to keep my breathing down to keep Sean’s attention away from me. This must be the reason he left so quickly. Either he knew I would be like this, or I started crying the second I got in the car. It’s not like distance from my house is what I need, though. I’d much rather continue looking at it for just a little bit longer. On the drive through town, he doesn’t look over at me, keeping his eyes focused on the road, as if to give me space. Over ten minutes later, we approach the dark steel gates and I unbuckle to get out.

“Put your seat belt back on,” he says, taking a turn to the right.

“Sorry,” I apologize, snapping it back in. He takes us down a long concrete road and turns left into what resembles an apartment complex with ten-story buildings, separated by small gaps of room with parking spaces in front. He pulls in to the building closest to the lawn surrounding the main military building in which I’m going to stay.

“Let’s go,” he says, pulling it in first gear.

I get out of the car, standing by the trunk to grab my bags. He opens it up and grabs two of the most awkward. I take the others, letting him close it with the mirror still inside, and start heading down the annoyingly long concrete path to the administrative building.

“Thank you,” I say when we near it, surprised by how much help he has given me over these two days.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, picking up the pace.

Once we get to the building, I climb the stairs first and swing the right door open for him, letting him lead me up the stairwell and to my room. When we arrive, the door is still unlocked and so we put everything on the floor just inside. I’m about to grab a bag and start unpacking when he motions for me to follow him. A little hesitant to leave my things unattended, I close the door, hoping no one cares enough to look inside. We head down to the second floor, a level that resembled the one above with brightly lit lights secured to the wall, instead of the hanging chandeliers. Sean shows me inside of a room equipped with copiers, printers, and computers. He types in an access code into one and pulls up a document to what looks like a schedule. When it prints, he logs off and grabs the paper, walking back to my room.

“This is your new reference guide to life here at training,” he explains, leaving the door open as he goes to place the paper on top of the desk for us to look at. “This includes all of the places you have to be, the time, and what you’ll be doing there. Make sure to look at the dates. You cannot be late or absent to a single session. If you are, you run the risk of getting kicked out.”

“I understand,” I reply, guessing that would be his next question.

“Good. Tomorrow, your first session will start at 8 am. No matter what, you need to follow this map.” He points his finger to the black and white schematic of the base. “No matter what. If you get lost, ask someone for help, but I recommend that you start looking early. Try to head out at seven.”

“I can do that. Question, though… where’s the alarm?” I look at the blank bedside table, wondering if I’m missing it.

He looks back at me, perplexed. “You didn’t bring an alarm? Are you serious?”

“Yes. I never needed one. My mom would always get me up in time, so I never thought of it.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Start getting ready for bed. I’ll go see if I can find you one.”

“But it’s only like five,” I point out, a little uncomfortable that he’s trying to get rid of me like that. “That’s fourteen hours before I need to go anywhere.”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, not really paying attention as he walks to the door. “Start unpacking, then.”

I start with the closet while I wait for him to get back. This room is laid out practically like mine, with the exception of the closet, which consists of a tall wardrobe, its wood the same color as the door. I open it up and start laying clothes inside, designating the top as the shirts and going down from there. I stand my boots up against the wall in a line leading to the wardrobe to keep them out of the way. The only things untouched are the toiletries, as there isn’t anywhere obvious to put them. As much help as Sean is, I’m hoping to run into someone else to ask where the bathrooms are, preferably a girl. Before too long, Sean is back, a bulky, grey alarm clock in hand.

“Here you go,” he says, tossing it to me. His eyes skim the room and his lower lip pops out like he’s impressed. “I see you’ve unpacked. That was fast.”

“I didn’t have as much as I thought,” I say, realizing that my dad was right. “Thanks for the alarm. Where did you find it?”

“One of my friends had an extra one that he never used,” he explains, grabbing it from me for a second to demonstrate it. The sound it generates is like a drunk cuckoo bird ready to peck my ears out. I wonder if the batteries are dying or if his friend had done something terrible to it. “As you can see, it was also the most annoying alarm that I could find.”

“Ha ha,” I reply mockingly, taking it back from him to set the time. “So what do you usually do at this time?”

“Eat, study, hang out with friends,” he puts simply. “Or sleep if studying has taken a toll on me the last couple of nights.”

“Good to know that I’m free for the next fourteen hours.”

“Fourteen is right. I remember my first day here. I was literally buried in books on this bed after realizing that they wouldn’t all fit on the desk at once. I was probably up until 4 am and completely sucked the next morning at training. As you can imagine, my instructor was pretty upset. He had me stay after class to make sure I wasn’t hung over from drinking.”

I laugh, loving the mental image of Sean walking in a straight line, trying to keep his body straight on a few hours of sleep.

“Laugh all you want now,” he says. “I will do the exact same thing to you if you ever seem off your game, whether or not I know you’re sleep deprived.”

“Thanks,” I return, letting my body collapse backwards onto the bed. “I’ll remember that you take advantage of sleep-deprived recruits.”

“I’m an instructor. I have to have some fun.”

I look at the ceiling above me, visualizing my first day tomorrow; the friends I will make, what I’ll wear, how much homework I will need to get through at once, and the amount of pain my body will be under. I think about Sean’s comment on being buried in his books and suddenly realize a discrepancy in the way he described it.

“Hey, Sean?” I ask, looking over at him with my head flat on the covers.

“Hmm?” he responds.

“What room did you stay in your first year?”

“This one,” he answers, causing me to sit right up.

“Seriously? Is this the only room for my program?”

“No,” he says, his voice perfectly calm, as if there’s nothing confusing about my stay in his previous room. “There are fifteen others. I wasn’t in your program, remember?”

“Cool. Why did I end up in this one?”

“This was the only one available. That and you passed my test.”

“I still don’t know what your test was,” I confess, wracking my brain over the conversation we had yesterday afternoon.

“I don’t expect you to,” he insists, making it clear that pressing the point will do nothing. “But what I do expect is for you to get a lot of sleep and be ready for training tomorrow.”

“I will be,” I quickly say before he can start leaving like he always does. “What do I need to wear tomorrow?”

He looks me up and down before responding. “What you’re wearing today would have been good, but -” he stops, taking a moment to cross the room and pull open my wardrobe, moving things aside. Thankfully, he starts at the top and stops when he finds a pair of pants, considering that the next drawer was compromised of my socks, bras, and underwear.

“This will work,” he says, laying a black pair of jeans and a solid black t-shirt down on my bed. “At least, until you get your uniform. Do you have a black jacket, though? It’s usually pretty cold in the mornings.”

“Umm, yeah. I’ll grab it out.” I walk over to my wardrobe and find it, putting it down next to the rest of my clothes. I think about saying something about him going through my things, but there isn’t any way for me put it without lecturing him. I can always bring it up if it happens again.

“That looks good,” he concludes. “Are you hungry for dinner?”

“Not really.” I did only eat twice, but I’m worried that food won’t settle well in my stomach with all of the nerves of adjusting to this place.

“Alright. Well, tomorrow morning, there will be breakfast starting at 5 am. Ask anyone about it and they’ll show you.”

“Great. I think that I’ll go look around to know where to go tomorrow.”

“Actually, you can’t.” I frown at him, momentarily wondering if he’s joking. He looks serious, though, thankfully clarifying what he means. “Tonight there are group tours everywhere showing new recruits and competitors where they’ll be staying.”

“Wait, right now there are group tours going around the base to show them everything they’ll need to succeed here?”

“Yes. Why does this surprise you?”

“Because shouldn’t I go with one of them to make sure I don’t miss anything?”

“No,” he blows off my concerns. “You already know the areas of the base that matter.”

“OK,” I concede to avoid confronting him. “If I have any doubt of where to go, I’ll just ask someone.”

He nods, as if confused by what was unclear to me. “I can show you everything else if you want, but it’ll just be redundant when you lose track of it all by next week.”

“Is it that big?” I ask, doubting his logic.

“Very; and you won’t be able to distinguish one room from another until you really need it.”

“Alright. I’ll trust you.”

“OK. Do you feel like you’ll be fine by yourself right now?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Then I’m going to go grab some food and start preparing my lesson plan for tomorrow,” he says as he walks to the door, stopping at the frame. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with?”

“Only if you show me the lesson plan,” I joke.

“Deal,” he agrees. Caught off guard, I hurry over to him, not willing to pass this opportunity up.

“Wear your jacket, though. The better you fit in from the start, the better.”

I run back to my bed, put my black pseudo-leather jacket on, and we leave the room. The place looks much busier than it had before, with dozens of soldiers walking around the floors, examining every inch of the base. The first floor is packed with families, parents included, seeing their children off. My heart suddenly begins to sting at the thought that my parents weren’t willing to do this. What’s worse is that they claimed they wouldn’t be able to make it through the gate.

“I thought that my parents weren’t allowed inside of the base,” I tell Sean in quiet voice, questioning if he had been the one to tell them this.

“They’re not,” he elaborates. “You were leaving under a very specific circumstance. There’s a reason that you never signed any paperwork to enter into the program.” He’s right. I never even saw a contract that would allow me to do this.

“But why is that? What is that circumstance that doesn’t apply to these people?”

Sean keeps walking past the crowd in silence, completely ignoring my question. Instead of taking us to a room inside of the building, he heads outside and descends the steps, pulling me over to the side of them and out of the way.

“The circumstance I can’t tell you just yet,” he replies, his body tensioning up. “As far as why you didn’t sign anything, it’s because I signed something for you. Just remember that anything you do falls directly onto me.”

That shocks me. I knew that there must have been something serious that he wasn't telling me, but I still don’t understand why. “Why would you do that, though?”

“Because I chose to. Let’s go.”

He motions me to follow him back up the steps and takes me to the left of the room towards a hallway just like the one leading to the Kinoport on the other side. We follow it down to an open hall that has no doors. Before we even reach it, I can tell that the sight is incredible, with a ceiling stretched a hundred feet across, cutting off as a square roof painted with the emblem of Crestpoint. There are over a dozen wooden tables with chairs that are perfectly in line. Tall, radiant lamps line the walls only a few feet apart from one-another, lighting up the entire room without fail. Out of the numerous people walking the base, maybe twenty are here inside with us. There are plates and dishes of food at each table, spaced consistently for each person to reach and smelling as if they were just cooked. I suddenly regain my appetite.

“This is the dining room,” Sean says, taking us over to the furthest right table.

I follow mindlessly and we sit down. Without hesitation, I lift my plate up and start to dish food on, keeping it moderate.

“Not hungry, huh?” he jokes, putting a small scoop of a potato salad onto his plate.

“I changed my mind,” I say, hoping that he’ll let me finish eating without having to talk.

He seems to catch on, because he doesn’t say a word until after I finish taking my last bite. Everything tastes amazing and not at all what I expected at a military base. It’s surprising how little Sean eats. This must have been where he went between this morning and the time he returned to pick me up.

“You ready to get going?” he asks eventually.

“Yes.”

“Alright. Grab your plate.”

He walks over to a table at the corner tip of the room, furthest away from the entrance, and puts our plates on top, dropping our silverware into a little square slot beside them. The table is empty, meaning that the plates are probably picked up periodically. He takes me across the outside lawn and to the building where he parked his car. When we reach the entrance door to his apartment building, he types a code into a keypad and with a buzz, the door unlocks, allowing him to lead us up a staircase onto the second floor. The building is built very strangely. It’s very well-lit with concrete floors, but the staircase leads off each floor to a locked door, rather than a hallway. He grabs a key out of his pocket and unlocks the door, clicking on a light as he steps inside. I follow him into an apartment that resembles the first floor of my house. The floor switches off from concrete to a light-tan wood, partially carpeted with beige. All light comes from the ceiling and large windows in what appears to be the living room, stretching to the ceiling from three or so feet off the ground. By the door is a little seat with shoes tucked underneath it. Before going any further, Sean takes his boots off and I follow suit. He then takes his jacket off to put it on a coat rack, revealing strongly built muscles defining his frame. I can see the definitions of his chest through his thin t-shirt, catching glimpses of six-pack abs as he walks. Everything about him sends a faint shiver down my spine, one that I somewhat succeed in avoiding. The first thing we come upon is a kitchen, complete with a marble dining counter in the middle of the room and six tall chairs on either side. He has pans hanging on racks beside a stovetop and everything spotlessly cleaned, not a plate in sight. I look to the left to catch sight of the living room that has a three-person couch with a blanket neatly folded on the top, facing the wall. I’m curious what the rest will lead off to, but we stop at the counter when Sean pulls a seat open.

“Hop on,” he says, standing behind the chair. I literally have to climb on a little bit with how high it is before he pushes it in, leaving just a small gap between my torso and the counter. “I’ll be back.”

He walks through the living room to a door at the end of it to the left, returning back a minute later with a plastic black binder and a pen. He takes the seat to my left and opens the binder up to reveal a schematic of the base, the same as he gave me earlier, along with a list of recruits numerically listed to the right of it. He flips the page to a blank piece of paper and begins to write five weekly dates, leaving a little room between each one to write in. I keep quiet until each is filled in with objectives and training criteria, trying to understand what to expect from him each week. I wish that I had brought the copy of the schematic that he gave me to write these down as a reminder for myself. When he’s finished, he looks up at me.

“As you can see,” he starts. “These are all of the weeks that you will be training for your program. They are synchronized perfectly with the competition. Each week will be a new objective, whether it’s to learn principle fighting strategies or creating booby traps for incoming enemies. These instructions below the goals,” he points to the scribbled words that I can hardly make out. “Describe how I will train you. The reason that each session is so important is because it will have something new. If you miss one, you won’t have time to learn it before moving onto the other. At the end of the sessions, you will be tested to ensure that you understand everything that I will have taught you and you will be expected to perform perfectly. Nothing below perfection is accepted if you want to have any say in where you’ll be assigned in the military. Of course for you, it will be more difficult.”

“How so?” I ask.

“You will have two tests to pass, one where you’ll be tested each week. If you do not get through to the final stage in your leadership management program, you will not be allowed into the military at all. You will go home, but you’ll be watched closely by the military and Council to make sure that you don’t say anything that could reveal classified information.”

“So, I’ll have very little privacy,” I summarize, hating that this is getting thrown on me now out of all times.

“You’ll have none,” he clarifies, closing up the binder. “It’ll be like you’re never alone.”

“And why is it that I’m in both programs, again?”

“Because you’ll win.” He says it like there is no other alternative, but I question why I bothered agreeing to come when there are so many stakes involved. “You will make it through both programs with the skills that you’re after and never have to worry about privacy and safety again. You’ll be almost as protected as the Council members, considering that you’ll be ranking right below them.”

“But even so, how do you know that I’ll win? I appreciate your faith in me, but there are a lot of things on the line.”

“Because I know you,” he says simply, as if I’m supposed to believe that. Unless he can somehow predict the future, he has too much confidence in his ability to read people, making this a step out of line.

“We just met,” I inform him firmly. “That would be impossible.”

“Oh really?” he asks skeptically.

“You think it is?” I challenge, throwing the question back at him in hopes of getting some clarification to his logic.

“I do. You don’t have to know everything about a person to know them. I have seen you think and react in stressful situations, to question, and to take chances. That’s all I needed to see to take a chance on you.”

That stops my mind in its tracks. Everything comes back to him taking a chance on me, but there is never a clear reason for it, no matter how flattering his faith in me is. “Why is it that you took a chance on me? I have no idea what that means, other than you not having me sign any paperwork.”

“I already told you that I can’t say right now,” he reminds me. “What makes you think that I would change my mind an hour later?”

“I don’t know. Your honesty with me right now.”

“Don’t ask again.” He pushes his folder aside to the other end of the counter.

“OK. I’ll stop asking.” I look around at the room, waiting for him to tell me that it’s time for me to leave. Instead, his eyes follow mine.

“You like cooking?” he asks when my eyes go between the pots and stovetop.

“I do, but I’m very bad at it.” I remember my last ditch effort at dinner. “The last time I tried was two years ago and my mom asked me to leave the kitchen after I burned pasta.”

“What’s the big deal?” he asks, perplexed. “I’ve burned spaghetti lots of times trying to crisp the meatballs.”

“I meant the pasta noodles,” I clarify.

“Oh. And how did you accomplish that?”

“I didn’t check them for like twenty minutes. I was texting and lost track of time.”

“You’ve heard of timers, right?”

I tilt my head to the left for emphasis. “Yes, I have. I didn’t find it necessary at the time.”

“Hmm. That is a classic example of operator error.”

“And you’ve never done anything that stupid?” I ask, eyebrows raised and ready to hear something dramatic when a vibration sounds from my coat pocket, startling me in my seat. I put my hand inside and pull out my cell phone, which is lit up with a new text message from Merissa.

“Now, it’s two,” Sean says terseley, grabbing the phone from my hand. “These aren’t allowed on base.”

“I completely forgot that I had it with me. I must have left it in this jacket two days ago after getting home. At least I have an alarm now!”

Sean doesn’t look like he’s in the mood for jokes anymore. “You still do; the one I gave you. I’m confiscating this.” He puts it on the table next to his binder.

“I’m sorry,” I try, more than a little frustrated at his bossiness. “I had no idea that I still had it.”

“Really? You mean to tell me that you had no idea it was in your pocket for the last hour?”

“Yes. I didn’t think about it, maybe because I’m so used to carrying it on me, so I didn’t feel the bulge.”

He looks at the phone and back up at me, making sure to secure eye contact. “I sure hope so, because we don’t tolerate lying here. I don’t tolerate it.”

This makes me extremely uncomfortable. I don’t ever lie and now he doesn’t believe me after claiming to know me.

“It’s a good thing that I don’t lie, then,” I point out angrily. “But you already know that, saying that you know me so well.”

He looks stunned, tearing his eyes from mine to look ahead, fuming. I wait for him to say something, even if it’s just another rude remark, but he’s too caught up in his temper.

“I’d better go,” I finally say, standing up.

“Yeah,” he agrees, doing the same, with the best intentions of keeping his eyes from me.

I quickly put my shoes on while he stands there waiting and before I get to the door, he’s opening it for me.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at training,” he says in the same emotionless voice I’ve heard multiple times now. “Have a good night.”

“Night,” I mumble, heading down the steps.

“Natalie,” he calls to catch my attention when I’m halfway down the stairwell. “Make sure that you’re on time to where you need to be.”

“I will be,” I snap at him now that he’s not in proximity to do anything about it and continue back towards my room, thinking of all the things I could have said to him instead.

Just as I’m about to reach the corner of my building, I hear a crowd of voices from the courtyard laughing and yelling excitedly. Remembering that Sean told me blending in on the first day would be in my favor, I decide to take my chances and head over to courtyard. What I’m wearing is good, excluding the bedazzles on my shirt, so I zip my jacket up as I approach the voices, my jaw dropping in awe when I first lay eyes on the fun. The fountain has become a bonfire, with soldiers in uniform and new recruits roasting marshmallows on sticks. Parents are talking with men and women in uniform who give the appearance of being instructors and staff with how they are stationed in the four corners of the courtyard. There are groups of soldiers playing Frisbee and others that block attacks from their friends, most probably for practice. The entire atmosphere is exciting and I become more at ease than ever before. Being a little cold, I walk over to the fire and join a bunch of soldiers taking advantage of its heat.

One of them reaches over and touches my shoulder to get my attention. His blonde hair and freckles contrast dark-blue eyes, reflecting flames from the fire. He’s tall and slim, like he’s got a lot more speed than strength.

“Hey,” he says. “I’m Ethan.”

“I’m Natalie,” I respond.

“Cool. That’s a cool uniform; very risky, though.”

“Why’s that?” I realize that he must think that I’m new here.

“The jacket, of course. Just be careful of Sean. It might be similar, but he’ll catch the distinction.”

I laugh. “I doubt he’ll notice me with everything else going on, if he'll even recognize me.”

“You’ll be surprised. You’ll find out next year that he remembers everyone from his training, but with what you’ve had him for so far, you should know that he’s got the vision of a hawk.”

“Good point,” I say, not about to clue him in that I’m that new.

The night goes perfect, with soldiers in their first and second years coming up to talk with me. Pretty soon, I feel as if I’m part of a group and it isn’t even long into the night. We stand in the middle of the courtyard talking about awesome adventures to try, from Ethan’s snowboarding suggestion to Alexa’s interest to try swimming in a mountain spring a few miles off of Ves. Every one of them has something unique about them. They stand out when with each other, as if the presence of others distinguishes them, rather than diminishes their personalities. I’ve never had an easy method to making conversation, but talking with them makes me feel as if I have known them for years. I feel like I truly belong.

The courtyard continues to echo with laughter when Alexa motions towards the bridge, which is now empty, except for one dark figure that I can’t quite make out.

“Who’s that?” I ask her, leaning to look across Malorie’s shoulder, a girl just barely taller than me with long, silky-black hair and a flawless smile.

“That’s Sean,” she says. “He always gives speeches at these occasions. That’s one of the perks of his job.”

“Perks?” I laugh, trying to understand how giving a speech is considered a perk.

“I know what you’re thinking; giving speeches is boring. He will use each one of these as a reminder in his sessions, so it gives him a chance to really scare new recruits.”

“Hmm. That I can see.”

“You should know that first-hand by now, though,” Ethan points out skeptically. “Haven’t you trained with him already?”

“What?” Alexa cuts in. “No. She’s a first-year.”

“A new first-year; as in you haven’t really started yet?” I nod in response, a little irritated that Alexa had to put the pieces together. “S**t. I thought you already completed some part of the training. How is it that you know what he’s like?”

“He’s the one who recruited me,” I answer simply, hoping that he won’t ask for too many details.

“What about your uniform? How did you know what to wear?”

“Because,” I start, not quite sure how I should answer that without giving off the wrong impression about myself or Sean. “I heard him mention that everyone wore black jackets, so I threw this on. The jeans and boots were just luck; they’re the first things I grabbed this morning.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. Immediately, I wish I had mentioned that I saw soldiers wearing these on TV.

“Wow,” he says skeptically. “That’s some luck.”

Before he can ask me anything else, the crowd suddenly quiets down, clearly signaled by someone that Sean is about to speak. When he does, nothing in his voice shows apprehension, but rather excitement and confidence. He stands there with his legs apart, arms behind his back.

“Welcome,” he starts. “Families and new recruits, we are very pleased to have you join us in preparation of joining our ranks and the family that we have built here on base and alongside our extended military family throughout the country. Today is a time for each of you to ask questions and learn everything you’ll need to know to be successful in your time here. At this point, you should have toured the facilities and found your residences. If not, then there is still plenty of time to do so. Our first and foremost value is trust, from which we originate honesty and devotion to everything that we commit ourselves to. These are traits that build strong warriors and that is a goal that we strive to accomplish each day through our training. Whether you are the brave men and women who have taken the first step to bring forth the leadership that we seek to build a strong, community-based army with or are one of the fifteen recruits for the leadership management program, I strongly hope that you will feel a sense of belonging and be a part of my family, not only throughout your time in the military, but throughout your lives upon your departure. So, please feel free to stay and ask as many questions as you have. If you have not received your schedules, please head to the printing room and there will be multiple soldiers happy to help you get what you need for tomorrow. We ask that all of our new recruits are in their rooms and are ready for bed at 9 pm sharp, having departed with families and figured out where they will be heading tomorrow morning. I look forward to working with all of you throughout your careers and for parents, the futures of your children. Enjoy your time here and get to know one-another. That’s the most important bit of advice that I can give.”

With that final sentence, he’s met with strong applause from every edge of the courtyard, including myself. Despite everything that I can pick him apart for, he makes some great speeches that reel everyone in. The only thing he needs to work on is the value of trust, considering how little faith he has in honesty when circumstances don’t play well to reason.

Once the applause stops, Ethan comes closer for more clarification, the rest of the group listening in out of curiosity.

“So this is your first day, huh?” he asks me.

“Yeah, first day,” I respond, not quite willing to believe it myself.

“I’m guessing you’re heading into the soldiers program?”

“Actually,” I pause for a moment in hesitation. “I am going into both.” I realize that the more people I can soon call friends know about this, the easier it will be for me to succeed here. There is no reason to keep secrets from them, especially if I ever have a chance of making it through the five weeks or consider being their leader.

“Both?” he asks in shock, his words getting overpowered by whispers and questions from the others listening.

I’m bombarded with questions about whether that’s even possible, how I managed to get into both, and what that means as far as what class I will be going with. Some even question my political stature, as if to identify with ideals that I will hold in leadership. I try to stay as honest as I can with them without compromising the facts, or lack of facts, that I was told by Sean regarding my recruitment. I manage to answer a few of these questions when Malorie interrupts me.

“Regardless of what program she’s in,” she announces to everyone. “She’s one of us and first-years get a lift to welcome them into our craziness " well, sort of. This is something that as far as I know, we’re the only ones to do. So, pick her up.”

At her command, two strong arms lift me by my waist into the air and spin me around in a circle three times. The experience is very weird and dizzying. I can barely make out the faces of the crowd as they lay eyes on me and applause sounds not only from the group beside me, but from various others in the courtyard. When the guy spinning me puts me back on my feet, I can barely stand, let alone keep from feeling nauseous. Everything about this moment is surreal, but I briefly wonder if the exercise was meant to get me dizzy, or to give the guy doing it an excuse to act ridiculous.

“Congratulations,” a familiar voice says behind me. I cautiously turn around to face a sudden shock that is Sean’s face looking down at me. “First day in and you’ve already made friends with soldiers that aren’t even in your class. Impressive.”

I can’t tell if he sounds sarcastic or actually pleased.

“If you’ll excuse us,” he says, putting his left hand behind my back and pushing me out of the group, whose members gladly step aside, as if by command.

“Goodnight,” I call to them when we’re nearly out, getting no response.

Thankfully, Sean seems to catch on that I’m not fully balanced right now, so he guides me over to the far edge of the courtyard, closest to the lawn where I found my way to this event from. The area is desolate, apart from families occasionally leaving to head to the main building. We step to the wall and out of the way before he lets his hand fall from my back. He stands there looking at me, as if waiting for me to talk. Not knowing what to say, I look back nervously, successfully allocating a response.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks me. I can’t read his face with how blank it is.

“On the way to my room,” I explain. “I heard a lot of voices coming from the courtyard and decided to go look. One thing led to another and I stayed longer than I expected.”

“Than expected? I specifically told you not to go around the grounds at all.”

“I know that you did, but we also didn’t say goodnight under the best terms and to be fair, I wasn’t ignoring you to piss you off. You told me that wearing an outfit similar to a uniform would make a good impression on my first day and what good would it do if nobody saw me in it?”

“This isn’t your first day. Tonight is when recruits get picked apart by the rest of us. I didn’t want you to stand out so you wouldn’t get picked on. Instead, you just made yourself the primary target to a bunch of second-years that are not held accountable to you or me because they are not in your class. This isn’t something that I can pull you out of.”

“Pull me out?” I ask incredulously. “I don’t need your help to get me out of anything, nothing will happen to me.”

“You really think that after two years of living here I don’t know how things work? They might be your friends for now, but that won’t necessarily last. I have had students in their first week of training begging me to let them drop out of the program and go home because a second or third year had just embarrassed them or because they didn’t feel safe anymore. And for you, if something embarrassing happens, you run the risk of losing the competition altogether. Is that something you could live with?”

“It won’t happen. I wouldn’t have friends that would do that to me and I’m not going to stand here and be told to keep to myself for the next five weeks.”

I move around him and start heading to the administrative building when he grabs my right arm from where he stands and spins me back around to face him.

“This isn’t a joke,” he presses, looking as though his patience is wearing thin. “I’m not telling you to stay away from everybody, just to stick to your class for now. This isn’t going to last forever, but it’s precisely what you’re going to do for the next few weeks if you want to win.”

“I will win,” I rebut loudly, trying to pull my arm out of his grasp. “But not the way you think.”

“Really? Then tell me all about it.”

“No. Now let go of me.”

He immediately releases my arm, the command apparently holding more weight than the physical retraction. “Why not?”

“Because you keep telling me not to trust anyone. Why would I trust you?”

He doesn’t seem to know what to say, clearly thrown off by my response. I turn from him again to leave, guessing that he’ll either let me do this my way or give me a good reason not to.

“Because I’m trusting you,” he calls from behind. I turn my head to see him briskly walk around me.

“No, you’re not,” I say angrily, just loud enough to catch a few people’s attention. “That’s a lie.”

Regardless of how he felt before, my last words seem to really nip at him. He stops dead in his tracks and spins around to look back at me. I walk over to him, about to demand an answer to what he supposedly trusts me about.

“Excuse me?” he blows up, his body stiff and his voice deep and low. “What am I lying to you about, exactly? How can you stand there and tell me that I don’t trust you?”

“Because you haven’t showed me once that you do,” I respond just as angrily, refusing to tone it down even a notch. “Even when it came to finding my cell phone in my pocket, you wouldn’t consider the possibility that I didn’t leave it there on purpose.”

“I’m not going to argue with you about this. I have put my entire career on the line for you. Isn’t that enough of a reason to show that I trust you?”

“Not at all,” I simply put it. “By telling me this, you’ve showed me that you trust your judgment, not me. If you trusted me, you wouldn’t tell me not to explore the base tonight or to avoid interacting with people outside of my training group. You would tell me how it is that you put your career on the line and why.”

“For you!” he says, voice getting louder. “That’s all you need to know to understand.”

“That’s not even a complete sentence. I don’t understand anything other than you won’t trust me enough to tell me anything that will help me succeed on my own. You act like I have a bounty out on me.”

“That bounty is fourteen other people and their acquaintances that want to see you lose. The more they have on you, the easier it will be for them to accomplish that.”

“Maybe I should make it easy for them, then,” I snap, realizing that the only way to keep him from ordering me around is to keep him second-guessing my plans and intentions.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, his eyes widening and rapidly moving between mine, like they’re trying to grasp all of the answers behind my thoughts.

“It means that you’ll know everything when they do.”

I walk back around him, heading up to my room before he can stop me again. To my surprise, he doesn’t follow me. By the time that I reach it, the building is practically empty as everyone must still been in the courtyard. I lock the door, make sure that my alarm is set, and take my shoes off. I climb right into bed, not caring about pajamas or anything else tonight. The second my head hits the pillow, I feel much more tired than I realized and before I know it, a sharp sound of a cuckoo clock screams in my ear, waking me right up. The clock shows 6:30 in the morning, but my windows are already filled with sunlight as if it’s afternoon. I climb out of my covers and start changing, overcome by a desire to explore the base before my first training session. The argument from last night still rings through my head, making me wish that I could punch a wall to get my frustration out. If I’m lucky, today’s training will include a punching bag, or at least an opportunity to take a shot at Sean. It’s not that I’m not grateful for the opportunity to be here; I would have still chosen this opportunity no matter the circumstance. The issue is that I feel that I won’t be able to achieve everything I need to without the independence of making my own choices as far as friends, who I talk to, and what I say. Of course, I already made a promise to avoid two of those three things. The other drawback is that Sean will be my primary instructor, meaning that I will be under his supervision for a good amount of my training. If he plans to stay as protective as he has shown to be so far, Ethan’s analogy of him watching everything like a hawk will be an understatement. I won’t be able to learn anything for myself, because he will always be there to keep me away from potential harm. There is nothing romantic about that and as horrible as it sounds in my mind, I hate that he will hover over me.

By the time that I finish brushing my hair, the time approaches 7 am, leaving me an hour to eat and find out where I need to go. I head down to the dining room to find it packed, most every table lined with soldiers having breakfast. The dishes on the farthest table up front are piling up, but they are being cleared by several people in uniform pulling a lever on the wall that I hadn’t seen before. It lowers the table down and after a minute, lifts it back up, but empty. Guessing that there’s a kitchen beneath the room, I focus on finding a seat. A hand waves at me from the middle table and I recognize it to be Malorie. Relieved to cut my search short, I go over and sit down among her and a bunch of others in the group from last night, including Alexa and Ethan. This makes me feel a lot more at ease. Not only did my friends act just as friendly as last night, proving Sean’s suspicions wrong, but there is no sense of awkwardness between us. I ask about their first day of training and am relieved to hear that it was primarily an information session with a few activities, so very easy. Not wanting to sit here for too long, I eat some toast and making plans to meet with them again at dinner, leave the dining room and head outside. The wooden door opening shoots a swift shock of cold wind at my face, throwing my brain off balance. Grumpy that I can’t wear a sweater with this make-believe uniform, I step down the steps and pull out my map. The first training session for the day will take place inside of the administrative building inside of the Kinoport. I roll my eyes and go back inside, mad at myself for not checking ahead of time. The wind does wake me up, though, which helps boost my stamina. The map includes a diagram of the building I stand in, but it’s very unclear as to what floor the room I have to get to is located on, making me glad that I visited it before. Before heading to it, I figure I will make sure I know where to go next, as the print-out shows that I have three places to be today. The second one is outside in the obstacle course, while the third is supposedly on the thirteenth and highest floor of this building in a room known simply as the Conference Room. Not knowing how much time has passed exactly, I start over to my first classroom.

Author's Note

What do you guys think so far? If everyone is excited to read more, the remainder of this novel is now available on Amazon and other retailers. I hope that everyone enjoyed these chapters. It was great to share my work with you. Keep an eye out for the second book in the series!