Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
It’d be nice to work at a place that served food. The staff got free lunch, right? Or was that taken from the paycheck?
I needed to fix up my old bike too. The less I had to take the bus or Metro, the better. I’d always need public transit for when I worked across the river, but if my second job was in Arlington, I’d use my bike.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I hoped it was someone getting back to me about a job—but of course it fucking wasn’t. It was Aunt Laura.
Dinner tonight, hon? I’m making tikka masala.
Blergh.
Her version of tikka masala was dumping a shitload of curry into a pot with crushed tomatoes, overcooked chicken, and broccoli. There was nothing masala about it.
I texted back as I stopped at an intersection.
I start work at 5, sorry.
Besides, I had cheap pasta, ketchup, and a packet of bacon waiting for me at home.
After crossing the street, I stayed on North Pershing and walked toward a couple pizza places I’d looked up. Both were hiring, and one of them used their own staff for delivery. I could definitely do that. I had my license, and it was the only thing on my post-graduation to-do list I’d accomplished. I’d graduated high school at seventeen with ambitions, man. I was gonna get my license, work extra to help Mom with rent plus pay for a class in economics, and then I was gonna save up to get my own food truck.
Yeah, that wasn’t happening.
Education. Money. Benefits. Adventure. Career.
I came to an abrupt stop on the sidewalk at the sight of a sign in a window, and wasn’t that just fucking perfect. Army recruiting center.
I could tell people one thing about the Army. They were not enthusiastic about giving out information about dead veterans. Thankfully, Aunt Laura had offered to help me figure out which forms I needed to fill out.
Scholarships, GI bill, annual tuition assistance…
I walked a little closer and stuck my hands down in the pockets of my jeans.
Retire in twenty years. Health care. Paid vacation.
Oof, I could hear Mom’s voice in my head. Or what I’d imagine it would sound like if she pleaded with me to not follow in my dad’s footsteps. But it was nuts. Laughable. I wasn’t soldier material.
Live in Hawaii, Alaska, Europe, Asia…
I lifted my eyebrows.
No mention of the Middle East, huh?
If I’d been taller, stronger, and…
The door opened, and an officer stepped out to light up a cigarette, and he nodded at me.
“How are you, son? You lookin’ to join?”
I chuckled and shook my head. “I trip over my own shadow.”
He flashed a grin and exhaled some smoke. “There’s training for that. How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
He nodded once. “You ain’t even done growin’ yet. Let me guess, you don’t see how you’d fit in.”
Well…
I shrugged and eyed the cardboard cutout soldiers standing in the window, all with happy faces and gym experience.
“My dad was in the Army.” I didn’t know why I’d said that. Goddammit. “He died in Afghanistan.”
The officer turned solemn. “I’m sorry to hear that. We’ve lost many great men and women over there.”
Yeah.
I let out a breath and felt some kind of boost of affection within me, and it was because this man had no idea I’d never known my dad. He probably thought I was used to seeing Jake come home every night, and we’d have dinner together as a family; he’d take me to games when he had time off… It was a nice dream. And then tragedy had struck.
Fuck.
I swallowed hard and blinked back grief for a life I’d never had.
“I should get going,” I muttered. “Thanks for talking to me.” I adjusted the straps on my backpack and started—
“You know…I lost my big brother in Iraq,” he said. “I’m not saying it works for everyone, but it helped me feel closer to him by staying in the service.”
I chewed on the corner of my lip and eyed him warily. Was this just recruitment bullshit? Was he feeding me lies to get me to enlist? It would be their loss, honestly.
“Why don’t you come inside for a talk?” he suggested. “There’s more to the Army than shipping soldiers to the sandbox. We’re a big family, kid.”
A big family.
Family.
June 4th, 2018
“You did what?!” The shock was written all over her face.
I shifted uncomfortably on the couch and side-eyed Biter, the name I’d given the worst ferret alive. He better not come closer. The whole living room was decorated as a playground for those nasty little shits, and he had to sneak up on me right where I was sitting?
“Please tell me you’re joking, Leighton,” Aunt Laura pleaded.
I couldn’t tell her that. I wasn’t joking. I’d done the stupid thing. I’d struck a deal with the devil.
“You don’t get it,” I said. “I’m almost out of money. I go to bed tired, I wake up tired, I’m hungry… My whole life fucking blows, because I’m just going from one work shift to the next.”