by Jesse Jordan
“You're celebrating a two hundred thirty three?” Kyle yells, and Christina is mortified. “Seriously, a two thirty three is the cause of all that celebration. That's pathetic! If you were only of my Lieutenants, your first OER would make you realize that no officer should ever do so poorly. That's right, five blocks across the board, especially for doing something so stupid as to be celebrating about excitedly like some sort of idiot! I....”
“Should shut the fuck up,” I interrupt, walking up. “And stop trying to push your macho easy achievement bullshit on people who have worked very, very hard since the beginning of summer to get a personal best score! It is because of fucking assholes like you that people like us are screwed up!”
Major Kyle turns, his face going red as he sees me, and he gets in my face even more than he was with Christina. “I know you've got to be having a bad day cadet, if you are so dysfunctional as to be yelling at a Major. You need to...”
“No, YOU need to get out of my face before I put you on your ass like I did to Mike Hernandez last year, Major. You may be an officer, but you are acting like an immature bully, and certainly not a gentleman as I was reminded just a few hours ago. Now back the fuck off. Last warning.”
I'm twitching, caught up in the rage of everything that's happened. I see in his face Mike Hernandez, I see Daria Roberts, I see Jordan Quackenbush. I see Jack Logan, I see Captain Gilbert and Major Franklin, I see every person who has made a wisecrack about Christina, or about myself. My hand starts to move, the Major is not backing down, and I know that I am going to punch him, that I will ruin myself and my time at the Academy, that I will fail my mission, but it does not matter, I cannot stand it any more....
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” another voice says, and it is Captain Locker, stepping in between us and leading Major Kyle away. “Major, I know him. I'll handle the paperwork. Ivan, stand fast, the rest of you if you've got your scores turned in to the table, fall out to the barracks.”
I blink, my hand still trembling as Major Kyle talks quietly with Captain Locker, and Captain Locker nods a few times, talking back. Christina gives me a concerned look, but I give her a reassuring shake of my head. She speaks quietly. “After this, come by my room. We can just talk, that's all.”
“I'm sorry, Christina. I did not mean to cause you more trouble.”
“You didn't,” she says, stepping closer. “Thank you for sticking up for me. But remember, I need to be able to stick up for myself too. Let's talk about that when we get a chance, okay?”
I nod, and she pats me on the arm, leaving with the rest of the cadre, Major Kyle with them. Captain Locker stays behind, and when we are alone, he waves. “Come with me, Ivan. Are you calm enough that I don't need to go get the boxing gear?”
His little joke helps me ratchet down another notch, and I nod. Captain Locker leads me into the stands of the nearby track stadium, and gestures for me to have a seat.
“I suppose I will be written up for this?” I ask, and Captain Locker nods. “Shit.”
“If it had been just Logan, the Major, and myself, I might have been able to sweep it under the rug, but yeah, I'll have to start paperwork. Let me start by saying that you were right, Ivan. Major Kyle, he's the sort of officer who gets good results because he replaces the people under him who are not immediately effective. He'd be a great pro coach, but he'd make a poor college coach. He's not so good at developing people or using what he has.”
“Yet we are in a university as well as the military,” I point out, and Captain Locker shrugs. “I understand.”
“Do you, Ivan?” Captain Locker asks. “I heard what you said, and there was a word that stood out to me. Bully. Do you feel that Major Kyle was bullying Logan?”
“I think that Christina has been bullied and picked on by people for years, and nobody at this fucking Academy gives a damn,” I shoot back, my voice rising again. “I think that this school survives by eating those who do not fit in, and the idea of development is closer to bullying than anyone is willing to admit. I think that....”
“I think that you're speaking about yourself as much as you are Logan,” Captain Locker says, and I stop, blinking. “Ivan, I've watched you for two years. I've watched you in boxing, and you are a man driven by very deep anger. Last year, you not just won, you decimated every person put in front of you. The only reason any of your fights went past the first round was because you decided that you'd had enough, and made an example of Mike Hernandez. You could have just knocked him the hell out, but you were pissed. Did you ever find out just exactly what you did to him?”
I shake my head, and Captain Locker hums. “He spent a week in the hospital, Ivan. In addition to the concussion from that final burst, you broke two ribs, and he was still going through counseling for PTSD when he graduated. That's not the actions of someone who was just angry... you were in full on rage mode.”
“Perhaps,” I admit. “Since... since starting to see Christina, I have seen a beautiful woman whose spirit has been crushed by this place for petty things. And do not tell me that it was to make her stronger, or that the Army will be worse. If that is the case, then your country should deserve to collapse, because this is nothing like the Declaration of Independence or what the Constitution say it should be.”
Captain Locker listens, then shakes his head. “How the fuck do I keep getting caught up in shit like this? Let me tell you a story, Ivan. You may not know, but I'm a former Ironside myself. I was I-1 XO part of my Firstie year.”
“I'm in the Firestorm now, sir.”
“Well, nothing too crazy happened when I was in I-1 itself, at least I thought so. But we had this Yearling, nice guy. One night, everyone was bored out of our minds. It was winter Intercession, and someone decided to do something stupid.”
“What's that, sir?”
“Someone decided to set up a slip n’ slide in the hallways. It’s not that hard, take three cups of powdered laundry detergent, mix in a mop bucket, and pour on the tile. The tile takes care of the rest.”
“It sounds like a recipe for disaster,” I comment, and Captain Locker nods. “What happened?”
“Well, a bunch of us join in, but this guy, he takes the cake. Gets a good fifteen foot takeoff going before he starts sliding, but just as he hit, someone bumped him. He goes sliding not just down the hallway but ends up going headfirst down the stairs, busting himself in the forehead all the way to bone. We’re freaking out of course, but he comes back from the hospital all happy. It seems while he was in the ER waiting to get seen, some Lieutenant Colonel brought in his daughter, she’d fallen and broken her arm. According to him it was love at first sight.”
“That must have been interesting. What happened to them?”
“They got married, he lives in New York now. He’s out of uniform, but they are happy, both of them, and are making more money than I am. So what do you think of that?”
I muse for a moment, then shake my head. “Interesting, but other than the fact that it has a connection to I-1, I do not see how it is like what happened today.”
“Actually, it doesn't have a damn thing to do with it, I just needed to give you something to let you put your mind somewhere else, to calm down,” Captain Locker says with a chuckle, and I have to admit, I smile too. “Good to see that. Now Ivan, I mentioned what's happened to you because I think you've been treated just as shitty by the Corps as Christina, maybe more. You've just hid it better. But you're just as angry by the way you two have been treated.”
“And Gene, and Karli, and every other person the fucktards have called a loser,” I grumble, and Captain Locker raises an eyebrow. “It is not my term. Karli's.”
“A good term. But Ivan, my point is, I heard some of that rant, and you said something that made me intervene. And no, it wasn't you threatening to kick Major Kyle's ass. You said, and I'll try to paraphrase here, that it is men like him that are stopping people like us from becoming our best. And yes, you said us, not her. Ivan, you've got a hard road in fro
nt of you. But you've got to find a way to let go of that anger, because you're right, it is holding you back. If you're not careful, it's going to choke you, and the next time you threaten to kick an officer's ass, I might not be there to make sure that doesn't happen.”
I nod, thinking. “So what now, sir?”
“I'll offer what help I can. Because Ivan, I think if you can learn to manage your anger, you can become such an extraordinary cadet that nobody, officer, cadet, or fucktard, will be able to ignore you or marginalize you again. But you gotta start by figuring out who you're pissed at. As for the paperwork, I'll turn it in to your Beast Tac Officer. I'll have a word with him, but I figure you'll be lucky to not get a Reg Board for it.”
I laugh, leaning back on the warm bleachers, and Captain Locker gives me a look. “What?”
“Sir, I just got a Reg Board slug earlier today. Fifty hours for punching out Christina's father and getting arrested in Colorado.”
“I'll mention that as well. I might be able to spin that into a stress point, your Tac might cut you a little slack. How much did you get for the arrest again?”
“Fifty hours.”
“Good luck then. Hopefully you won't be doing hours for the entire year. You ready to head back up?”
I nod, and Captain Locker lets me lead the way up the hill. As we walk, I think about what he said. He's right, I am angry... but I'm angry with so many people I can only start to make a list, and right at the top of that list is myself.
Chapter 11
Christina
“I can't believe you are doing this,” Ivan says as I sit on his footlocker, working on his shoes. At West Point we get good at shining shoes. Real good.
“What?” I ask, as Ivan checks the belts on his ammo cartridge kit. He has to march in dress gray over white, the zippered tunic that we wear for semi-formal occasions, with crossed white cartridge belts and the gray saucer like service cap. It's slightly less unbearable than the parade uniform, but not much.
“You are getting your class ring in an hour, yet you are in my room, helping me prepare for walking tours,” Ivan replies, setting his belts aside and getting out a freshly pressed and starched set of white pants. “Some would say you are insane.”
“And some would say you're certifiably nuts, but I know the truth,” I comment, setting his shoe down, pleased with the results. “I know that you've worked hard on your temper. It's been awesome to talk with you and get to know that part of you as much as the cerebral ass kicking machine that I already knew. You're showing your emotions more Ivan, and to be honest... I like it a lot.”
“It is difficult for me,” Ivan admits, then smiles. It's a different smile than he first showed to me months ago, this one is more inwardly reflecting and open. I've paid attention, and he doesn't show it to many people, mostly to me, sometimes to Karli too. “Thank you for listening.”
“I'm no expert on this, but isn't that what relationships are supposed to be?” I ask, getting up. “I'll step out, let you change, and I can double check everything before I go change for my ring ceremony.”
I wait in the hallway, my arms folded. As I wait, one of the other F-1, a guy named Kennedy, comes up the stairs.
“Hi Logan,” he says. Just as the Ironside have gotten used to having Ivan in the I-1 area all the time, the Firestorm has gotten used to me being in their company area constantly, and while we're still not popular, at least a lot of the F-1 are polite.
Ivan opens the door to his room and steps out fully dressed except for his waist belt. “Check my back?”
I adjust his belts, making sure they lay flat across his wide back, the muscles still evident even through the thick gray wool. “You're looking good, and I don't just mean your uniform,” I tell him, patting his butt through his white pants. They may be hard as hell to keep clean, but for a man with a backside like Ivan's, those white pants look good. “So I'll see you before dinner?”
“Yes. I'll pick you up from your room at six thirty,” Ivan replies, smiling. He reaches out and takes my hands, giving them a squeeze. It's the closest we can come to hugging inside the barracks without being in our rooms, and this semester both of us have roommates who we don't trust to shut up about it. Karli's been cool though, and the few times we've had three-way study sessions, she hasn't minded if he and I do a little making out in the corner while she works on her engineering. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
“I'll try to look even better later,” I say as we walk down the stairs. I know that I need to hurry to get ready for the Ring Ceremony in twenty minutes. We give each other a final nod before I run up to my room, changing into my India Whites, adjusting my red sash just as the Plebes call out the minutes as a warning. My roommate, Alicia, checks her hat and leaves without saying too much. We're at least on neutral terms with each other.
After the Ring Ceremony, I take a moment to admire the imitation sapphire with gold band before I find Karli. When I see her I wave, and she shows me her ring, ruby with a white gold band. “You think anyone's going to give you the Ring Poop?”
“Probably not too many. You know the Plebes, they're going to chase the Firsties the Yuks tell them to. We aren't cool, remember?”
I laugh and sling an arm around her shoulder, and we head into Central Area to watch the cadets marching hours. Ivan's there, his M-14 on his shoulder, his face impassive even as he starts to sweat in the warm sun. Thirty meters, stop, turn, and back, all at an even pace, all with the rifle held on the shoulder. Karli and I give him a wave and he cracks a smile, nodding before turning his eyes back to in front of him, putting his mind in whatever place it has to be to deal with the heat, aches and pains of walking tours. Karli and I watch for another minute before we turn and walk away, Karli shaking her head. “You know, I'd have thought that the Corps would have gotten rid of nineteenth century punishments about the same time we....”
“OH MY GOD MA'AM, WHAT A BEAUTIFUL RING!” a group of Plebes from Karli's company scream as they come charging towards us, cutting Karli off as she rolls her eyes and gives me a wave, running off. It's a game, there are so many in the Corps, but eventually the Plebes 'catch' her, and she lets them admire her ring before they move off looking for their next target. I decide to make my way back to Pershing Barracks, knowing that I've got at least one group of Plebes to deal with myself. Might as well have a little fun, even if I feel bad enjoying myself while Ivan sweats in the sun.
The music is pretty tame, but it doesn't matter to me. Ivan looks amazing in his India Whites, and I'm having the time of my life as we enjoy the dance. Maybe I'm just being biased, but I think I have the most handsome date there, and certainly the one that stirs feelings inside of me.
“You still have a lot of energy for a man who walked hours today,” I note as Ivan twirls me in his arms. He's certainly had classical ballroom training at some point in his life, I feel like I'm actually dancing instead of just swaying like most of the other cadets are. “How is that?”
“I have a beautiful girlfriend to dance with,” Ivan notes, “and after sitting on my ass through that speech at dinner, my energy levels are just fine.”
The music stops and we stop, walking to the refreshment table where we get some punch before sitting down. “I was more worried about how Colonel Renquist was going to react to shaking hands with you in the reception line,” I remark as we sip our drinks. “I’d say he played it pretty calm.”
“We are both glad for that,” Ivan notes, downing half his drink. “I do feel bad about you not taking leave, though.”
“I'm where I want to be with who I want to be with,” I answer, taking his hand. The music starts again and it's a slow song. “Shall we?”
Ivan takes my hand and we go out on the floor again, finding some space before I put my arms around his neck and he pulls me in. The lights are too low to see much, just enough to look into his eyes as we move close, our bodies nearly pressed together, and that's all we need. I've been thinking about things since the APFT inc
ident, and I know that I have feelings for Ivan.
But that's the problem. I graduate in less than a year, and no matter what our feelings are, when Ivan graduates in a year and some change, he has to go back to the Ukraine. How can I... but he's here with me now, and I see the look in his eyes. How is this happening, how can this work out between us? What miracles have to happen for me to stay with this man?
After the dance, we leave Eisenhower Hall, taking the path through Flirtation Walk, the woods swallowing us up and giving us a little bit of privacy. If we were a cadet and civilian couple, then some hand holding and maybe some intimacy would be overlooked on the rest of post tonight, but we're not. Instead, we take advantage of the one place on post where we're not in danger of getting in trouble, as long as our uniforms stay on.
“Did you have a good time?” Ivan asks. “I have to admit, I did not enjoy my first couple of dances as a Plebe or as a Yearling. Five Hundredth Night was nice, but we were both more focused on going on leave then. Tonight was different.”
“It was. And Ivan, it was the best dance I've ever had. Mostly because of you. Just who taught you how to actually dance, anyway?” I ask, holding hands with him. Half a mile, just half a mile of being able to hold his hand, but I will relish every step.
“My teachers in high school thought that with me coming here, that I learn some social graces. I'm not perfect, but thank you for the compliment. It was you, though. I had an angel in my arms tonight, I could have danced another five hours if you wished.”
I stop, we're near one of the benches that are slightly off the path, and I tug on Ivan's hand, walking with him up to the stone bench and sitting down with him. “Ivan... all night I've been thinking. You and I, we've been dating quite a while now, wouldn't you say?”
“I agree. Seven, eight months or so. It sort of depends on if you count from our first kiss or our first date, or what that date is. I am not concerned about the exact start though. Why?” Ivan says, straddling the bench and letting me lean against his body. I want more, but I know that the risk is too high right now, I'm sure someone is walking too, making sure we stay within the rules of Flirty.
