Rites of Passage (13 page)

“Atta girl.” Clark laughs. “Now, let's TP the hell out of this mountain.” He pops his own can and drinks the whole thing down in a few gulps.

It takes me a couple tries to get the hang of throwing toilet paper rolls. It's not something I've ever done before, but after a few minutes, I can toss a roll across the field without ripping the paper.

Running up and down the mountain makes me thirsty and Ritchie hands me another beer when the first one is empty.

“Thanks.” I take a few swigs from the second one, already feeling a little lightness in my head, and for the first time since I've been here I feel a little less scared, a little more free.

“Kind of a lightweight, huh?” Ritchie laughs as I stumble up the hill to get the roll I've just thrown.

“Not a lightweight.” I don't even know what that means. “I've just never done this before.”

“TPed a mountain?”

I laugh. “No, gotten drunk.”

“Gotta learn sometime, Mac. And who better to learn with than your recruit buddies. We're going to be together for four years—might as well start trusting each other now.”

“All right, Alpha!” someone yells from the top of the mountain. “Five more minutes and then we need to head back. Be sure to pack out your trash,” he says, shaking the empty beer can in his hand. “We'll chuck it in the Dumpster on the edge of campus.”

I quickly toss the last roll I've got, helping make the left line of the
A
a little thicker than before. Our finished product must be five stories tall and twenty feet wide. There's no way anyone will miss it. When I turn around to look down the mountain, the campus sways in front of me and stars zigzag across the sky.

“Doin'okaySam?” Bekah's words are smooshed together like she's trying to say one huge word instead of three individual ones, and I don't know if that's her fault or mine. She puts an arm around me and pulls me up against her.

“I think the world is spinning a little bit fast tonight.”

She laughs. “Isn't it great? This is way better than getting yelled at.” Then she pushes her mouth against my ear. “You and Kelly took a long time getting up here. Did you guys kiss in the woods?”

Thinking of Kelly stings a bit. “You know we're not supposed to—”

“Break the rules,” she finishes. “Lighten up, Mac. What's the worst that could happen? They make us do some extra push-ups? Besides, you can't tell me nothing's up between you and Kelly. He can't keep his eyes off you.”

“It's not like that.” I want to say more but Kelly stumbles up and steps between us. He's messed up, too.

“What are you guys talking about?” He puts an arm around my shoulder and steers me in the direction of our recruit buddies. This time I don't pull away, even though I'm worried about what they'll think of us strolling around like this. So far, they seem to like me. If I get too chummy with one, though, they might turn on me. But . . . he feels solid, and warm, and just for a second while my head floats a little higher than usual, I let it happen.

When we get to the huddle of them, Kelly stage-whispers, “Guys! Mac and Cross are drunk!”

A cheer—much too loud for my liking—goes up, hanging in the air above us like it's a beacon for anyone looking.

“
Shhh
,” I say, jamming my finger against my lips and leaning in close. “You guys need to keep it quiet. My brother says they'll be looking for any reason to get us out of here.”

“You don't have to worry about us, Mac,” a voice says from behind me. “You and Cross have earned a place in the company.”

The words wrap their way around me, slipping through my ears and not landing at all in any place that makes sense. I just let them talk and enjoy the warmth of my recruit buddies. The guys I'm going to survive this year with. My friends.

“Let's get down the mountain. Hopefully the hike will clear her head,” one of them says. Kelly keeps his arm around me and helps me balance as we start heading down. I can't stop wondering if it's because he's trying to be helpful or if it's because he likes being close to me. When he tightens his grip to keep me upright, my insides go all warm and everything seems a little better. Thank God for beer.

A familiar orange light in the distance grabs my attention. It floats in the darkness, a little firefly maybe, bouncing back and forth, up and down. “It's so pretty. That little thing.” I point toward the dot but my arm doesn't stay still.

“I don't think that's a thing,” Kelly says, kind of laughing and it's then I realize he might be almost as drunk as I am. “I think it's that fire.”

Campfires mean s'mores. All I want is s'mores. “Let's go. Maybe they've got food.” My stomach growls then, as loud as a grizzly. I think for an instant that hunger is supposed to go with pot, but I can't focus on that for long.

“That would be awesome.” Kelly jumps on the hungry train, too.

“My favorite part of s'mores,” I say, “is the part when the chocolate and the marshmallow mix together. You know, when they're both kind of liquid and you can lick it out of the inside.” I think my voice is too loud. It sounds really loud to me, at least.

“I like to burn the marshmallows. Crispy black on the outside, still solid on the inside. Or, as solid as a marshmallow is, you know.”

I nod. He is the wisest person I know. “That's good, too.”

When we get closer to the fire, though, Kelly puts a finger to his lips. He creeps forward slowly, ninja-style, then motions me closer.

I lift my foot high off the ground and take a very exaggerated step, putting it down lightly and trying not to make any sound. I do it again before he shakes his head and points.

I follow the line of his arm, my gaze stopping on one of the people at the fire. It's enough to make me want to puke up my beer.

Matthews.

“What the hell? Why the hell is he up here?” It's not the stage whisper I used before. I yell it.

Matthews's head snaps up, his eyes on me in the darkness. Thank God we don't have a flashlight on.

Kelly's hand clamps down over my mouth. “Don't say a word.” I try to pull away but he keeps me pinned against him. “Step back slowly, quietly. Maybe he won't see us.”

Since his hand over my mouth is impeding me actually verbalizing anything, I just follow the movement of his body as he takes a step back, then another. Matthews keeps his eyes on the woods, on where he must think I am.

I stumble over something—a root, maybe—and fall to the ground. “Ouch. Crap!”

“Shh,” Kelly says. “Get up, Mac. We've got to get out of here.”

I trip once more but Kelly wraps strong arms around me and yanks me back to my feet.

Then we turn and run like hell.

THIRTEEN

KELLY TRIED TO CALM ME DOWN ON THE WAY BACK TO
campus. He told me there's no way Matthews could have known it was me. But Kelly just did it so I won't flip out. I haven't been able to sleep since we got back, though, and now that the beer is out of my system and my head is starting to pound, I know nothing good will come of this.

There's no chance I'm falling asleep and so when the banging comes at 0530, I'm already in PT gear minus one major part of my uniform. My KB is nowhere to be seen.

“Out on the wall now, Worms!” It's Julius yelling this time, walking up and down the deck and pounding on each door he passes.

Since I don't have to wait on Katie this morning, I run right out, squinting in the bright hallway. It takes the rest of my recruit buddies longer to get out on the wall. Apparently none of them is worried about what happened last night. I stand as straight as I can, just hoping he doesn't ask us to pull out our KBs and start to read.

When we're all accounted for, Julius lets us in on the reason he's grinning. “Looks like some of you Worms tried to do something motivational last night. That's great. I'm sure Alpha will like it. But guess what? I don't. It means you broke curfew. It means you snuck off campus. So now you're going to pay.” He drops the bag I didn't notice he was holding until now and I wince when it clangs against the ground. “Before marching down to first mess, you're going to make this deck shine. There's cleaner and rags in here. Every piece of brass—doorknobs, kickplates,
everything
—better be shining or we're going to smoke the hell out of you later. Got it?”

“Corporal Julius, yes, Corporal Julius.” We try to sound off, but it's a little less than motivational. My head pounds in response.

“You can talk, but it better be a damn whisper.” He sounds disgusted as he walks back off the deck, his flip-flops slapping against the floor as he goes.

“What does he mean about smoking us?” Kelly asks as he sits next to me at my door, rag and Brasso in hand.

I grab the can and put some cream on the rag, starting at the left side of the kickplate. “He's talking about a smoke show. Extra-hard PT—unsanctioned. Illegal. But it's not unheard of.” I rub the rag in small circles, the cream smearing at first, until it works its magic and makes the brass start to shine.

“Extra-hard PT,” Ritchie chimes in. “Hasn't the PT they've been having us do been extra-hard to begin with?”

I laugh out loud, then wince at the pain in my head and quickly cover my mouth. “I'm sorry. You're serious, aren't you?”

Ritchie's face goes red. “Hey, we can't all be born naturally fit. I am trying, you know.”

“It's been hard for me, too.” I don't think letting them know I'm tired will hurt their opinion of me at this point. “But smoke shows are worse. Way worse, I think.”

“Well, then, let's make sure the hall looks amazing. I can't take ‘way worse.'”

Kelly grins at me, rolling his eyes. They can't make PT hard enough to tire Kelly out. And no matter how hard it is for me, I'd never quit.

Ritchie moves away to help Nix at the next door and Kelly keeps his voice quiet. “You okay?”

“Head's pounding.” Oh, yeah, and I've lost my freaking KB and am going to be the reason we end up getting smoked if I can't find it.

He laughs. “It'll go away. Just drink some water, take some aspirin. You going to see Quinn today?” It doesn't matter that she's injured anymore; she's not pulling her weight and they're already pushing her out. It's not going to be long before they turn on her and even though I want her around, I'm not sure I want to be beside her when she goes down. Besides, I've got to find my KB.

“Later, if I can get away.”

“If you can't, let me know. I'll get over there and check on her.”

“Thanks.” I put more cream on my rag and continue working. I try not to glance at him, but I can't help it. He smiles when he catches my eye—apparently my rejection last night didn't hurt him too bad.

 

Matthews appears when we're in formation outside waiting for Drill to march us down to first mess. My stomach is growling, my head is pounding, but it's my heart that won't slow down. If he finds out about my KB, I'm dead. It's all I can do to keep my composure when he comes over to me. My aching head makes me feel out of my element and I don't even have time to get my game face on. I'm in front of the squad this morning, beating out Kelly for once, but it's not a great position. It means Matthews has easier access to me.

“Feeling good this morning, McKenna? Not too tired. No headache?”

My heart slams inside my chest. “Corporal Matthews, this recruit feels fine, Corporal Matthews.”

“Not missing anything?” The sneer on his face says I am, and I know he knows.

“Corporal Matthews . . . this recruit doesn't think so, Corporal Matthews.” It comes out stuttered and so obviously a lie that he can't keep the grin off his face.

He leans in a fraction further. “You've lost something important. Soon you're going to have to ask for my help.” When he talks his teeth graze my ear. I can almost feel Kelly tense behind me and I pray he doesn't do anything and make this worse. “And I'm going to refuse. You'll have to explain this one away.”

“Company,” Drill says, his voice loud and dangerous. “Attention!”

Matthews snaps his teeth together next to my ear. I wince as he laughs and steps back, his eyes not leaving mine until Drill gives the order to march and I'm forced to move. All I want to do is curl up into a ball.

As eventful as waiting to march was, the actual process of getting to first mess is anything but. We're in and out within ten minutes, lined up and waiting to march back up for Saturday training.

“Get those KBs out, recruits,” Matthews says, standing in front of me, his eyes staring threats into mine. “You're not going to waste time doing nothing. Every second of every day you should be breathing the DMA. Get them out!” He yells again when we move slowly.

I freeze. I can't move. Can't figure out how to get myself out of this without the whole company knowing I fucked up majorly.

I try to keep my eyes straight ahead, but they flick toward Drill. He's watching Matthews, worry lines on his forehead. I'm sure I must look like a startled deer or something because just as Matthews is about to speak again, Drill gives the order to march. I breathe a sigh of relief and force myself to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

Matthews is right, though. I'm going to need help. Only an upperclassman can get me another KB. But he's crazy if he thinks I'm going to ask
him
for help. I just need to wait for my Thursday meeting with Jonathan and then everything will be fine. He'll find me one. He has to.

 

Finally, after second mess, we're released to the library, chapel, or to our rooms for the rest of the day. Without waiting to see what everyone's planning to do, I sign out to the chapel.