The first day of school was here already. I could hardly believe it. I had flown out to Georgia about three days after school had let out. I guess my parents figured that the less free time I had to spend with Myles, the better. I couldn’t understand why they didn’t like my boyfriend! Actually no, that’s a lie. I understood only too well. It wasn’t about morals or uprightness of character to them. It wasn’t about whether or not he treated me like a princess.
it was about money.
Plain and simple. They weren’t comfortable with me dating someone who was poorer than we were. Well frankly, that condition right there ruled out just about every decent guy I knew. Not that my parents were millionaires. No, they were just lawyers. Both of them. I mean, seriously, could they actually expect me to only associate with other lawyer’s kids? It wasn’t as if they flocked to our area, exactly.
Really, how many rich people chose to live in the suburbs of Washington, for goodness sakes? Especially the suburbs of Snohomish, a tiny little hick town in the middle of nowhere. Not that I was complaining– no, I loved Snohomish. Just not a lot of people recognized the prestige that came with living in the “Antique Capital of the Northwest.” That nickname referred to the huge number of antique stores in the town, not that the town was really old, in case you were wondering. Of course, the town was really old, but that’s a different story all together.
So, anyways, my parents absolutely hated me dating someone that they deemed “unfit,” so they were always trying to get me away from him. For the past two and a half months I had lived with my Uncle Stewart in Georgia, where I had grown up. Well, my parents moved to Washington right after I had finished the sixth grade, so it had been awhile, but my “childhood” had been in the south. My “teen years” had been out here, as my mother liked to say. Uncle Stewart was very nice, and I got to actually meet his wife. I had been introduced to her for the first time at their wedding, and that had been about a week before we had moved, so all I’d ever said to her was hello.
I spent the whole summer with their four year old twins, Jacob and Katherine. They let me coach their summer soccer team, and that was fun. But that’s also how I hurt my knee... Oops, I wasn’t going to mention that. I didn’t want anyone to know, because then someone would tell Myles. He would go ballistic if he knew that I had knee surgery over the summer. Since I’m fine now, I don’t see any point in telling him this. That’s part of the reason I can’t believe summer’s over already. I’m out of time now. He’s either going to figure it out himself, or someone will see the knee brace when I change for PT– that is, physical training. It’s what we do twice a week in ROTC to make the class count for PE credit. Of course, once they see it, they’ll tell Myles. Or at least, they’ll mention something about it when he’s around and he’ll figure it out from there.
Perhaps I should just tell him already, but then he’d treat me like a china doll. I hate it when he does that! But I have missed him. I mean, I never got to talk to him because he was always at work or sleeping when I’d call because I was busy and he was busy, and then there was that pesky three hour time difference. That’s one of the many bad things about being three thousand miles away from someone– you change time zones. So I basically played phone tag with him all summer, and I had been planning to run and leap into his arms. Unfortunately, that plan has been forced to change.
I’m sorry for getting so completely off track. I was talking about my first day of school. So now that you’ve learned all about my summer, back to what I was supposed to be talking about. My parents picked me up from the airport the night before school started. I got in rather late, at a time when Myles was working so he couldn’t meet my plane like he had wanted to. We’re both pretty sure that my parents planned this on purpose, though I’m not quite sure how they could have. It would have taken quite a lot of work on their part, and frankly I doubt I’m worth that much time and effort to them, as sad as that is. I spent last night sleeping off the jet lag, and then my mother actually woke me up this morning and drove me to school. I could hardly believe it– she took the time to do something for me! It’s a miracle!
Compared to Georgia, it was downright chilly out here. Sixty degrees at max. That’s kind of low for early September, but Washington has the strangest weather known to man, I swear. One day it’s raining, the next it’s sunny and then two miles to the north it’s hailing golf balls. There was a day once where we had to do a lap around the school, and on one side it was sunny and raining at the same time, and on the other side it was cold, cloudy, and windy. I don’t quite understand it. Did you notice that I’m easily distracted? Sorry about that. Back to the story. First day of school. Right.
Like I said, it was really chilly here, because I was used to Georgia weather, so I was wearing a sweater and jeans. I wasn’t thinking about where I was going, but my feet took over. They maneuvered me around groups of chatting people, down a hallway, through a pair of double doors, and then down a set of stairs into what was known as the ROTC basement. Instead of giving the ROTC an actual classroom, and then a supply room, and having us book the gym every morning for our drill teams, and all the other rooms that we need, they simply allocated for us the entire basement. They installed curtains for us, and we have the large space divided into sections for everything that we need. In the mornings we all gather down there, and someone always pushes one of the curtains out of the way so we can fit one hundred people into a space comfortably. It was interesting to walk down the steps and see everyone in their different groups– seniors, juniors, sophomores, a few confused freshmen, the class of mixed grades (they always gravitated together because they were taught differently, and people who are different try to seek out people who are like themselves, if that makes any sense). Speaking of the “mixed” class, that made me remember another thing that I didn’t want to tell Myles, but he was going to find out about it soon enough– why expedite the process?
It didn’t take long for people to realize that I was in the room. Nick Wallace, the cadet (or student) who was now in charge of the ROTC waved me over. He always wore button down shirts and (on special occasions) ties. Apparently, the first day of school was a special occasion then, because he had on a bright orange striped tie. It was definitely eye catching. If that was what he had wanted, he had sure succeeded.
“Gallagher!” he exclaimed, standing up to hug me as walked over to him, trying not to limp. Nick Wallace was Myles’ best friend, and if he noticed anything wrong with me, Myles would know within fifteen minutes. I swear the two of them had a psychic connection or something.
“Wallace!” I cried in return, throwing my arms around him. “I missed you this summer.” Yes, if you hadn’t noticed, we called each other by our last names. That’s how it was in ROTC– I swear, your first name ceases to exist after a week in that class. True, I did call him Nick sometimes, but more often than not it was Wallace or Wally, as I’d affectionately dubbed him. Since he was my boyfriend’s best friend, we had ended up spending a lot of time together. He was probably the closest thing I had to a brother, cursed as I was with that “only child” syndrome. My parents had stopped having children after me once they had realized how much money they spent on my expenses alone. They loved their bleeding money too much to give me a sibling to spend my time with.
It was always nice to see Nick. He was one of the people who kept my life sewn together. Without him, Myles, and Myles’ sister Gabi, I think I would go certifiably insane. He always smelt good too, when he hugged me. Kind of extra-clean, I would say. Maybe a little whiff of kitchen spices too; Nick loved to cook. Okay, I have come to realize that I probably was lying when I said that I called him Wallace or Wally most of the time. Since Myles calls him Nick, it’s rubbed off on me. I USED to call him Wally though, so that part was true enough, I suppose. The hug may have been a little longer than normal, or even appropriate, given that I’d been dating his best friend for years. Of course, who was I to complain? I LIKE hugs. They make me feel special. And loved.
After Nick let me go, I joined him on the ground, sitting cross legged in a circle with most of the other seniors. It was so weird to think of us as seniors, already. Just yesterday we had been freshmen for goodness sake’s! Okay, well maybe not YESTERDAY, but it sure seemed like it. I hadn’t seen any of these guys in almost three months, so hearing them all chatter and laugh really made me feel glad to be home. Not everyone was here yet, but boy! Those that were sure had changed over the summer. It was as if they had grown up, matured somehow. To my left was Hannah Berkeley, the cadet in charge of what we called the S-1. I believe that the ‘S’ stood for ‘Shop’ but I’m not entirely sure. The S-1 did all the work in the office, filing records, dealing with the cadet files, signing paperwork, and all that other jazz. I could never, ever do what they did, not without slitting my wrists from the sheer boredom of the whole thing. Why anyone would ever WANT to work in an office is beyond me. Anyways, I’m getting distracted again. Hannah was a mousey tomboy, with short brown hair and a sweatshirt. She always wore a sweatshirt. It was a trademark. The only day she didn’t wear one was on uniform days. If you ever wanted someone to give you the truth, straight up, talk to Hannah. To call her blunt would be an understatement.
Next to Hannah was the Harris twins, Michael and Rachel. They both were the same rank (every cadet has a rank, but I’ll explain this later. Perhaps I’ll just sit you down and give you a blow by blow of how ROTC works. It’s more than a little complicated), and they liked to say that it was because the Captain wanted to keep peace in the family. On my left was Nick, of course, and to my right was Elizabeth Garrison. She was always nice to everyone, and she gave me a small hug when I sat down. Jonathon Hardeff, Andrew Montessi and Timothy Gill were also part of our little pow-wow.
We were just starting to catch up on what had transpired in each other’s lives when Nick stood up.
“Where are you going?” I asked, looking up at him with the sad little pleading smile that drove him nuts. Once he saw it, he rolled his eyes and sighed.
“You never change, do you Gallagher? I have to go out and help direct the lost and confused masses, remember? It’s part of my duty as the Cadet Commanding Officer. In fact, it’s the duty of ALL the cadet officers, so you three should be out there too,” he grinned sadistically as Berkeley, and the Harrises groaned. “Come on, being an officer isn’t just about wearing shinies and bossing people around, let’s see you demonstrate some of this leadership ability that you claim you possess.” Before you get too lost, shinies is our term for the silver rank insignia of cadet officers– they shine in the light. Hence the term. Making sense so far?
“You know, I swear those triple discs are going to your head, Wallace. Can we impeach you?” Berkeley grumbled. The rank insignia of Nick’s rank, a cadet Captain, was three silver discs.
“I’m afraid he was selected, not elected. That makes impeaching him impossible. Now, we could just throw him in a wood chipper. That’s still an option,” Michael Harris joked as the four of them headed up to the main floor. Our circle closed itself again, looking pathetically small compared to the other groups. Since we had shifted, I now had my back to the steps, so I didn’t see the person who came bounding down them. Actually, I didn’t even know anyone else had entered the room until I felt arms around my shoulders. They had a familiar feel, and my suspicions were confirmed when he put his mouth right next to my ear and whispered, “I missed you, Livvy.” There was something so right about the warm embrace, a wonderful feeling of safety and protection I had missed all summer. Have you ever had a moment where the world seems to fade away? Where it’s just your little bubble of happiness and no one can get it? That’s exactly what I felt right then.
There was a reason my relationship had lasted so long. It was wonderful. There was no feeling that matched this right now. I sighed happily and twisted around to greet Myles with a kiss. Obviously, since we had an audience, we kept it short. There is nothing more obnoxious then people who flaunt their relationships by making out all over the place. What, do they think people actually want to SEE that? They can swap spit on their own time, where I don’t have to watch. Nasty.
Myles lifted me to my feet and gave me a proper hug this time. There’s nothing more wonderful than a Myles’ hug. He’s huge, so it seems like I just disappear into this little cocoon of safety. He would probably never have let me go if someone hadn’t made a sarcastic remark.
“Geez, you going to let her breath, Barrit? I swear you’ve probably crushed her lungs by now. I know you’re glad to see her, but breaking her in half isn’t going to do anything for anybody,” from the slight lisp in the voice, I could tell it was Timothy Gill. Reluctantly, Myles relinquished his grip and I pulled him into the circle. He hated these early morning gatherings, but tough beans. I’d missed everyone over the summer, not just him. Gill started to talk about the car he was restoring, and I snuggled up to Myles, who draped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him protectively. It was probably one of the best mornings I’ve had in a while.
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