by M. L. Rice
I have to give you a lot of the credit, though. Your last letter made me smile for the first time in…so many days. Thanks for keeping an eye on things back home for me. I’m really proud of you for making the State ensemble again. I knew you would, of course. I’m sorry I’ll have to miss the concert this year, though. That is unless I decide I’ve had enough of this bullshit and just hop on a bus home tomorrow.
There is a definite possibility of that happening…
Aidan
Riley hadn’t liked reading about him being miserable. Especially when she knew that he was doing this partly for her. Still, the letters kept coming, and with every one, his mood and excitement improved. He was truly becoming a Marine. The military knew how much pressure a person could take before they broke completely versus breaking just enough to be molded into a fighting machine intent on their own and their friends’ survival in the face of dauntless enemies. Riley didn’t necessarily agree with everything they did or everything they were going to have to do out in the field, but was glad that Aidan was finding his way.
She put the letters back in the shoebox of heirlooms. It was true that her day had been terrible, but re-reading Aidan’s letters had helped to put things in perspective, as she had known they would. If he could get through boot camp, she could damn sure get through her senior year of high school.
She smiled as she thought, is there really a difference?
Chapter Six
Dear Aidan,
I know you’ll be home soon, but I couldn’t wait to tell you. It’s happened. I got in. I got in to the frickin’ University of Texas School of Music. I’m sure you’re imagining me freaking out right about now, but I swear I’m in shock. I can’t believe I made it. They’re so selective. I just…I don’t know how I got in. Aidan, I even got one of their scholarships. It’s not a full ride or anything, but it’s going to help a hell of a lot!
With the financial aid I’m getting, the money you’re so generously giving me, and whatever I earn at the part-time job I get when I move to Austin, I’m going to be set. Well, I’ll never be rolling in it, but I’ll be able to get by. That will be a weird feeling! Well, it will be nice until I have to pay back my loans for years afterward.
And to top that off, I even got placed in one of the newest, nicest dorms. Remember that huge one that looks like a prison? Not mine! You know that beautiful one that’s closest to the music school, right next to Clark Field, and right across the street from the stadium? Yeah. You can see me smiling, huh? It’s called San Jacinto or San Jac to the students.
On another subject, I’m so excited that you’ll be home soon. You sounded so bummed that it’s going to be before my graduation, though. Don’t be. I’m ready to leave, trust me. The ceremony isn’t a big deal. And since you so annoyingly asked, no. No one has invited me to the prom and no one will. I’m not bothered, though. You know I can’t dance. It sounds awful anyway. Why would I want to spend all night with people who are anywhere from fake nice to downright bitchy to me all dressed up and pretending like it’s the best night of their lives? No thanks. Not my style. There’s a viola player that I’m friendly with who isn’t going either (her parents are super strict and won’t allow it—some religious thing), so we’re going to go to a movie instead. Hopefully something brainless with lots of explosions and no high school drama. So don’t worry about me. I know it’s weird for you to have such a geek for a sister when you were Mr. Popularity, but I’m fine. Honestly. I prefer the quieter, artistic side of life.
That doesn’t mean that I won’t totally kick your ass if you piss me off, though.
I’m so excited to get to see you again. Please come home in your uniform. The girls at school will just die. It sucks that you only have a week before you have to go to your other infantry or whatever training.
Anyway, good luck in your Crucible thing. I know it’s going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but I have zero doubts that you’ll get through it, and when you get your Eagle, Globe, and Anchor you’ll be a frickin’ United States Marine. I’m so proud of you, Aidan. You honestly have no idea. Yes, I’m still a little pissed about it. Yes, I’m so worried about you I don’t know how to deal with it, but I want you to know that I love you and couldn’t be happier that you’ve found something that will earn you the respect you deserve and a job that will hopefully make you happy.
Please call when you can and tell me how everything went. I miss you and will see you soon!
Love,
Your little sister, the TEXAS LONGHORN! Hook ’em!
Two weeks later, when Aidan stepped off the aging Greyhound bus in the center of town, Riley practically flew over the concrete that separated the station from the street. He was wearing a uniform that consisted of a green coat and pants with a khaki shirt and tie underneath and topped off with a soft pointed garrison cap. When Riley reached him she threw her arms around his neck and he easily picked her up off of the ground as he straightened.
She was struck by how much he had changed in the months that he had been gone. He had been strong and burly before, but now he seemed slimmer and even more muscular, if that were possible. His face was slightly narrower, but with more pronounced lines as if even his jawline had benefited from the training.
“Hey, Nugget.” Aidan smiled as he set her gently back on the ground.
“Well, shit, Aidan. Look at you.” Riley put her fists on her hips and looked him up and down. “You look damn handsome, you know?”
Aidan laughed. “I told you! Chicks dig the uniform!”
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder as she turned to leave. “Stop. First things first.” He pulled a set of dog tags out of his pocket and put them around her neck.
She looked at them and saw that one was a copy of his official dog tag and the other had more unofficial information.
Riley Michelle Gordon
Cellist
University of Texas
“Congratulations, Riley. I wish I was smart enough to tell you how proud of you I am, but I just can’t figure out how to put what I’m feeling into words. I feel like my chest…like it’s a balloon…or like it’s been hit with a mortar made of pride…or something like that.”
Riley laughed. “That works.”
“Anyway, I made those dog tags for you so that we can always be together, even when we’re apart. I don’t want you to ever forget that you have a big brother somewhere in the world that loves you and thinks you’re the smartest, coolest, and most talented girl ever.”
She threw herself into his arms and sniffed as she wiped a tear on his uniform jacket. “Thank you.”
“Come on. People will start to think that I actually like my little sister or something. I’ve got an image to uphold here.”
Riley laughed and they turned to walk to the motel.
Aidan no longer rented the apartment with his friends and he didn’t want to set foot back in the Home, so he had rented an extended-stay suite near the bus station for the week. As they were walking, Riley glanced at him again. His large green bag was slung over his shoulder, and a flash of WWII soldiers returning home popped into her head.
“Okay. So tell me about the bling,” she asked.
“The bling?” He looked down at her, confused.
“The shiny bits.” Riley pointed at the ribbon and medals on his chest, and Aidan laughed.
“Oh my God, if the guys heard you say that we wear ‘bling’…”
She poked him in the ribs. “Just tell me what they mean. What’s that?” She pointed at the red and yellow ribbon.
He looked down at his chest and tapped the small colored bar. “That’s the National Defense ribbon. Everyone who completes boot camp in any of the services gets it.”
“And that one?” Riley pointed to the silver medal underneath it.
“Rifle marksman qualification badge. Turns out your big brother’s a damn good shot!”
“Well, that�
�s good to know. Must be all of those years of shooting bad guys on the Xbox.”
“It does help with hand-eye coordination.” He smiled.
“And what about this?” Riley patted the yellow chevron patch on his sleeve.
“That means this recruit has…” Aidan sighed and shook his head, but beamed. “That means that I have earned the rank of private first class.”
“Is that good? Can you order people around?”
He laughed. “Oh God, no. But it does mean that I was one of the top in my class. Most guys are just privates when they get out of boot camp unless they have prior JROTC experience or something. It’s an honor to get PFC right out of the gate.”
“So it means you kicked ass, then.”
“Yes. It means I kicked ass. Craig got it too. I mean, of course Craig got it too. He’s the perfect Marine. If you don’t care about the gay thing. Which I don’t. Duh,” he said, gesturing to her.
“Well, you look totally hot, PFC Gordon.”
“Not looking bad yourself, Nugget.”
Riley snorted. “Uh-huh. Lovely young suitors line my walk every night vying for my womanly attentions.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just wait ’til you get to college. Whatever happened in high school will be totally forgotten.”
“Well, the selective amnesia can’t come soon enough. I’m so over this shit.” Riley kicked a rock across the pavement as she walked.
“Is it really that bad?”
“I don’t want to worry you or make you think that I’m weak, but it has gotten pretty awful since you left.”
Aidan stopped and turned Riley to face him, a stern look on his face. “What’s happened? Who do I need to kill?”
Riley sighed, but smiled at his usual over-protectiveness. “That might be going a little far, Bro. And it’s just petty stuff, really immature bitchiness. They call me ugly. They throw things at me when the teacher’s not looking. I mean they’re not even creative with their bullying. It’s kinda sad really.”
“You realize they’re jealous, right?”
Riley snorted. “Jealous of what? My supermodel beauty? My vast fortune? My impressive lineage?”
“Don’t make me smack you. You know damn well that you’re infinitely smarter and more talented than those losers. They just feel intimidated.”
“It doesn’t seem that way.”
“Trust me. I’ve seen it a million times. When you get to UT, you’ll find people like you. People with brains and a future. Just wait it out.” He put his arm around her shoulder and they started walking again. “And in the meantime, if you need anyone’s ass kicked you just let me know. I’m kind of a big deal now.”
Riley laughed at his usual arrogant sense of humor.
*
The ten days of Aidan’s leave passed in a blur of beer, pizza, his old high school buddies whisking him away to parties, and a steady stream of female visitors who stayed the night with him after Riley went back to the Home. She tried not to think about that part. Still, she knew he deserved this break and couldn’t blame him for making the most out of it before he had to go back to training.
That conversation hadn’t been a fun one. The first night that he had come home he had taken her out to dinner at her favorite Italian restaurant and had explained his next steps.
“So, I have Infantry training next.”
“The short version or long version?”
“Long version,” Aidan said with his mouth full of lasagna.
Riley slammed down her fork. “Aidan, that means you’re going into the Infantry, doesn’t it?”
He swallowed. “Yes, but listen…”
“No! You told me that it was possible if you did well on your tests and in boot camp that you could get placed somewhere that wasn’t as dangerous! Communications or something.”
“That’s true, and while my ASVAB scores were pretty decent and I did really well in boot camp, the Infantry stuff is what I’ve fallen in love with. Look, I’m not going to be a rifleman. I’m going for the LAV crewman specialization.”
Riley glared at him. “LAV crewman.” It was a statement, not a question, but she knew that he would explain.
“Light Armored Vehicle. I’ll start out as a driver, then if I do well I can move to gunner, and if I’m awesome at that—as if I wouldn’t be—I can become the vehicle commander. Riley, how cool will it be to tear around the desert in a massive armored go-kart on steroids?”
Riley stared at him, deadpan.
“Look. It’s what I want to do. And it’s not all fun and boys playing with cool toys. It’s mostly maintenance and mechanic stuff really. But I’m good at that. I have experience with that, and I think it will serve me well. And look. It’s an armored vehicle. No, it’s not one hundred percent safe, but would you rather I be running around outside, kicking doors down, and doing fancy Captain Kirk rolls in the dirt?”
Riley considered what he was saying. Yes, it was true that he had training as a mechanic and that had to be useful in the position he wanted, but it seemed to her that the LAVs just made larger targets.
She sighed. “You know I’m not going to feel great about anything that you choose to do if it sends you overseas to fight.”
“I know.” He passed her the last piece of garlic cheesy bread as a peace offering. “But keep in mind that this is what I really want to do and I want you to be happy for me.”
Riley couldn’t stay mad at him. She loved him too much. She took the bread, set it down on her plate, and leaned forward. “So just do me one tiny, small, miniscule favor, and I promise I’ll never bring it up again.”
“Anything.”
“Come home safe.”
Aidan grinned and held up his hands, gesturing to himself. “This is me we’re talking about. The world would stop spinning if I weren’t here to keep it going.”
Riley sat back and huffed. “It’s really a shame the Marines couldn’t instill some self-confidence in you. Guess they didn’t want you to get cocky. Oh wait…”
He winked at her and waved the waiter over. “Two créme brulees, my good man. We’re celebrating. My little sister is going to college!”
Chapter Seven
Riley frowned as she took in her single sad suitcase. Her entire life could fit into one piece of luggage. That was depressing. She placed her now framed diploma on top of her folded shirts next to the heirloom box and zipped the suitcase shut. She registered the quiet stares of the other girls, but they were new and young and she didn’t know them well.
She hefted her suitcase off of the bed, grabbed her cello, and edged her way past the quiet younger girls into the hallway where the ladies who ran the Home waited to tearfully hug her good-bye. Riley couldn’t help but well up knowing that she had no intention of ever returning to Whitehall to see them again. That part of her life was over. She was moving on. But still, these women had been the only good part of living in a foster facility. They honestly cared about the children that were brought to them. It wasn’t their fault that the overburdened foster system kept them too busy to lavish individual attention on each child.
After a few words of encouragement and farewell, Riley packed up her car and pulled out of the dirt driveway for the last time. Pressure squeezed her chest while elation tingled her stomach. She crossed the threshold of the gate and she didn’t look back.
*
The door of the studio apartment she had subleased from an engineering graduate student who was traveling through Europe for the summer clicked as she unlocked it. She hesitantly peeked inside, worried that the student might still be home, but she saw that, although basically furnished, the apartment was completely bare. The previous occupant had obviously packed up her personal effects since she wouldn’t be home for three months—and probably because a stranger would be staying in her apartment.
Riley walked in and threw her suitcase on the double bed. For a moment, she just stood in the center of the disconcertingly quiet room, her ears straining for the f
amiliar noises of children playing, crying, or throwing tantrums. All sounds she hadn’t even realized she had grown accustomed to at the Home. Now that they were gone, she realized how much she enjoyed the silence. It would be nice to just…be…here. No one would interrupt her thoughts. No one would force her to escape to a run-down activity room just to have some time to herself. She was free.
At least for the summer.
In the fall, she would move into her dorm on campus and would share a room with another person once again. Even though she had been forced to sleep in a room with multiple people for most of her life, she was still nervous about living with someone in college. What if her mystery roommate hated her? What if she complained about her practicing her cello? What if she was a complete bitch? What if, what if, what if.
Riley shook her head. There was no need to worry about that right now. Whatever was going to happen was three months away, and there was nothing she could do about it anyway.
She made an irritated tsk noise and inwardly scolded herself for worrying about such superficial things when she knew how incredibly lucky she was to have the opportunity to go to college at all, and at her first choice with her dream major at that.
“Be useful,” she said to herself as she opened up her suitcase and carefully unpacked its meager contents and placed them in the dresser next to the bed. She set the ever-important shoebox of heirlooms in the top drawer where she could access its contents whenever she got lonely.
