Rites of Passage (10 page)

Number one: We have a place we can go at all times where we do not have to salute and be at attention.

Number two: We have a place we can go at all times to sleep, eat, and veg out, even if it is just between classes.

Both are equally important.

For me, it has a third meaning. It's where Dad and Rev agreed to set up weekly meetings between me and Jonathan, where we can talk in private without anyone getting in the way or saying I'm trying to skip out on my recruit duties or fraternizing with upperclassmen.

Between first and second block on the fourth day of school, I walk as quick as I can to the chapel. The bell on the steeple chimes the hour and I slip inside just as I'm supposed to be meeting my brother. Someone plays the piano. Another student snores in the back pew. Up at the altar, three recruits are trading food gotten, most likely, from the student store. Kelly sees me and jogs down the aisle.

“Hey,” he says. “How are classes going?” He stands close, maybe a little too close, and I'm irked that Cross and Katie planted the seed in my head that's making me analyze this.

I take a small step back. “Classes are fine.”

“So what was up with Matthews Sunday night?” With no downtime to just hang out and a lack of cell phones, it's hard to keep up-to-date with everyone. “What happened?”

I shrug it off. “Nothing. He's just an asshole. He wants me to quit.”

“That must be some target on your back.”

“Welcome to life as a McKenna female.” It comes out as a grumble and I sigh.

The wind today has made some of my hair come down from my bun and Kelly tucks it behind my ear. He lets his hand rest at the base of my neck and we stand like that for a second, the heat of his skin making me nervous. He gives me that dimpled grin again and I know it doesn't matter how much I deny it or tell Cross that she can have him. Even if I try to keep away from him, this boy is not going to give up.

“Good morning, Miss McKenna.” I turn toward the sound of the voice, my heart pounding at the thought of someone seeing Kelly touch me, even though I know who it is.

“Catch you, later, Mac,” Kelly says, not phased at all that Rev is cramping his style, and walks back to the front, where two other recruits are chowing down on a bag of chips.

I relax immediately. “Hey, Rev.”

“It's good to see you smile, Sam. I've been thinking about you. How's your first week been so far?”

I know he's talking about classes, not Matthews, but I hesitate for a second anyway. “A little nerve-racking, but I think I'll get the hang of it eventually.”

He smiles. “I don't doubt it for a second. Ready to see Jonathan?”

Next to where he's standing there's a door that leads to a dark stairwell. I hold on to the rail as I follow him down. It turns three times before delivering us to the basement, a big open space with three doors lining each side. A light comes from under only one of them across the room.

“It looks as though the cadet colonel is already here. Enjoy your time with your brother.”

“Thank you, Rev.” I'm not quite sure what to do with all the politeness. I've been nothing but yelled at for the past week and a half. A friendly conversation with someone who outranks me is definitely outside the realm of normal right now.

“It's what I'm here for. Oh, and Sam, remember: the chapel is open to all students all the time. But while there is always an adult here, I cannot vouch the safety of this place when I am gone. The fact that you have made it this far is a testament to your character and your upbringing. Though it may not appear to be so, there are people here who truly want to see you succeed, even if they seem greatly outnumbered.” The steps creak as he makes his way back upstairs.

The basement is full of shadows. I hustle across the floor, staying to the center of the room. I'm not one who is afraid of the dark or anything, but I think, going here, I could learn to jump at shadows all too quick.

“Jonathan?” I tap on the door and hear a shuffling on the other side.

“Come on in.”

I open the door and squeeze inside. For a second I'm not sure what this reunion is going to be like. The boy in the closet with me is not just my brother anymore—he's my colonel.

He glances up from his cell phone when I close the door behind me, and looks at me for a second before giving me a half-smile. If I were meeting Amos, he would throw his arms around me and pull me in for an epic bear hug. Jonathan just looks back down at his phone. “How are you? Are you okay?”

All I can do is nod, even though I'm not sure he even sees me move.

“Hey,” he says, finally sliding his phone into his pocket and patting me on the shoulder. “The first two weeks are almost over. You knew it was going to be hard, right? You knew this was going to suck.”

My lips start quivering.

“You've outlasted a lot of guys who've tried this. You and that other recruit in your company are the only females to attempt Declaration Day, much less survive it. You should be proud of yourself. No one will think badly of you if you want to quit. . . .”

“I'm not quitting.” I refuse to lose the last bet I ever made with Amos. I know damn well he egged me into coming here because he
wanted
me to accept the challenge, wanted me to succeed, and I won't fail him.

And worse than that, if I quit I'll play into everything Dad thinks all females are—carbon copies of Mom. Weak and dependent. Unable to take care of themselves. I will not be that person. Surviving the DMA will show him I'm more than that.

“I know. I just wish Amos hadn't dared you to do this. You could have gone to any high school anywhere and gone through ROTC. You could go to West Point and get to be an officer the same way.”

“That wasn't the bet, though.”

“I don't care about the damn bet, Sammy. I've worked so hard to get here and now . . .” His words rush out. “You being here takes away something that's really special to me.”

“I'm not trying to steal your thunder. Right now I'm just trying to survive.”

“Well, maybe the best way to do that is to go home.” He doesn't put much power behind the words. He knows it won't make a difference.

“Did you hear Dad's leaving again?” Dad is a safer topic right now.

“Yeah.” The word gets caught in his throat.

“Do you know where?”

He looks down at the floor. “No. But it can't be good. This wasn't planned.”

“He'll be fine. He always is.” Unbelievable. I came here for a little comfort from him and now I'm doling it out.

He scuffs a shoe on the floor. “I know. Listen, I've got to go.” Finally he meets my eye. “Anything else?”

I want to hug him. I want to feel my big brother's arms around me, strong and supportive. Even though it's not Amos, at least it would be something. I wonder about mentioning Matthews and my concern about what he might have said to Katie, but he pulls the cell phone back out of his pocket and starts scrolling again.

“No, nothing.”

“You be good, okay? Follow the rules, keep yourself clean. I heard about the push-ups on the PG Sunday night. Impressive. If you're going to stay here, you've at least got to show them you're a McKenna.”

Then he's gone without even a good-bye.

 

After another long week of training and classes, we're summoned to the parking lot behind Stonewall Hall for evening company time. “Come on, Katie. Grab your rifle. Let's go.”

“This can't go on forever, right? I mean, they've got to let us rest at some point, don't they?”

“This is
military
school and we're Worms. We'll get to rest next summer.” Though I know what she means. I could handle a nap right now, too.

She pulls off her boot, taking her sweet time. “I've got another blister.”

I grab my med kit from my foot locker and try to take a deep, cleansing breath. “Let me see.” Holding the moleskin up to her foot, I cut it to size and put it on. It only takes a minute, but already the deck is silent and the company is gone.

It takes her another minute to put her boot back on and lace up.

“We're going to get reamed for this. You know that, right?”

“You should have gone on without me.” At least she's moving now, grabbing her rifle.

“You know I can't do that. Matthews has already made it clear that we'll get a smoke show if we leave anyone behind again. We're family, remember? But you better hurry now.”

Outside the sun hasn't let up at all even though it's almost the end of September. Our company is lined up out on the blacktop, standing at parade rest. The cadre are walking through the lines, adjusting the way they hold their rifles.

I pick up the pace to a jog and fall in at the end of second platoon's line next to Cross. She doesn't have a track meeting tonight, and this is the first time she's been to company time all week.

It's not even thirty seconds before Matthews is on me. “Where the hell have you been, McKenna? What about you, Quinn?”

Katie is just getting into position next to me. She doesn't do well with Matthews yelling at her, but I can't glance at her to see if she's okay.

“Corporal Matthews, this recruit's roommate had a blister. This recruit was trying to help her, Corporal Matthews.”

“Well, that just gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling inside, McKenna. Meanwhile, your recruit
brothers
are working their asses off out here in the heat.”

“At ease, Matthews,” Drill calls from the other side of the company. “We've got work to do.”

Matthews takes a step back and stops the assault. He glances between me and Drill, his signature sneer sliding into place.

I move into a perfect parade rest, right arm extended and the tip of the rifle angled forty-five degrees out from my body, matching the rest of my platoon. Drill takes over the company time and it's easy to follow along with his instructions. He's teaching us the manual of arms, a rifle routine we'll perform at the Parents' Weekend parade.

Like with all other company time we do out in the open, we've drawn a small crowd. With each set of instructions, we try our hardest to move as one, to be perfect, but there's no way we can be. Not yet.

Matthews and Julius prowl the lines, just waiting to jump on us.

“You call that parade rest, Quinn? Try it again! Attention!” Matthews barks.

Katie inhales quickly next to me, a sharp noise that means she's close to crying. Her rifle clinks as she brings herself back to attention.

“Parade rest!”

Katie moves, but it's slow and sluggish. There's no way he'll let that pass.

“What the hell? Is your blister messing with your ability to hold a rifle correctly, Quinn?”

“Drill— Corporal Matthews, no, Corporal Matthews.” Her voice shakes when she says it and I cringe.

“Did you hear that, Julius? I've been promoted to drill corporal. Did you even know that was a rank?”

Julius bounds over. “Are you freaking kidding, Quinn? You've been here four weeks and you still don't know our ranks? Must be all that time you spent in the infirmary.”

It's hard to take him seriously with an acne-covered face and gold and blue rubber bands on his braces. It's just not that intimidating, but Katie stammers like she's actually scared. “Corporal Julius, yes, Corporal Julius.”

“And would you like to go back now? Your blister bad enough that you need to leave company time?”

A cheer comes up from the cadets on the sidelines. “Sick call! Sick call!”

Matthews looks toward the crowd, a smile on his face. “Why don't you, Cross, and McKenna stand over at the side and practice moving from attention to parade rest? If one of you doesn't know it, the other two are probably having problems.”

I work my jaw back and forth, eyes straight ahead, but I don't move.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Female Alphas! Fall out!” Julius adds, his voice echoing across the open space while the cadets cheer.

My face is on fire as I pick up my rifle and jog out of formation. I stand between Cross and Katie, wishing I could disappear.

Matthews stops next to one of the cadets who has moved and is now standing directly in front of us—Evers from the first day, the one I totally mouthed off to. They talk quietly for a second. Matthews shakes his head, but Evers is adamant about whatever he's saying. When he's done talking, Matthews glances once at our adult supervisor before turning to us. “Cross!”

“Corporal Matthews, yes, Corporal Matthews.” Her time with upperclassmen during track bonding makes her much more comfortable. She doesn't sound nervous at all.

“I'm worried about Quinn's foot. I don't want her to do any more
damage
to herself. Walk her down to the infirmary.”

“Corporal Matthews, yes, Corporal Matthews.”

“The two of you fall out.”

As she turns, Cross glances my way, rolling her eyes. I ignore it, though, too focused on what Matthews is going to do to me. He's singled me out like this for a reason. The memory of being rude to Evers on the first day won't leave me alone. I'm finally going to pay for it.

“McKenna.”

“Corporal Matthews, yes, Corporal Matthews!”

“Since the rest of the females have deserted you, I want to make sure you understand the proper movement expected of you. While the rest of your company drills the manual of arms, I want you to go from attention to parade rest and back two hundred times.”

Because I can't disagree with him, I answer. “Corporal Matthews, yes, Corporal Matthews.”

“Begin.”

I keep my eyes focused on the row of windows on the first floor of Stonewall and tune out the laughter from all around me. While my company works on a rifle drill I've known how to do since I was ten, I'm stuck doing drills we learned during Hell Week.