Page 21

That was how things went for years.

Nineteen passed. Then twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two … all the way to twenty-three.

My career in the Army was a fruitful one, and I thrived on the thrill of working my way up through the ranks as quickly as I possibly could until I was made sergeant.

Sniper sergeant, to be exact.

Like I’d already said, I was a good shot. Skilled, precise, gifted—that was what my superiors had said. But really, I thought I just had a lot of pent-up anger to expel.

I was gone for long stretches of time—working, training, and excelling in ways I was prouder of than anything before.

Much, much more than getting good grades in school.

My time away from home spanned months mostly, but once, it was for a little over a year.

And when I eventually returned to Massachusetts, I stayed with Ricky and his mom, saw my sisters, and occasionally, I’d exchange mildly heated—but mostly indifferent—words with my parents.

And, yes, I’d see Laura too.

Our relationship, if you could even call it one, was strung together by brief conversations and furious make-out sessions.

She would occasionally send me letters to wherever I was stationed, and the guys I was surrounded by would tease me as I smiled and blushed.

But I didn’t give a fuck. I had someone who wanted me, and that was more valuable than my reputation as Sergeant Tailor.

“Sergeant.”

I looked up from my book—J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Silmarillion —to see Private Mitchell, a newer recruit from Indiana, walking toward my bunk in the barracks. I hopped down in time for him to hold out a letter to me.

“You’ve got mail.”

“Thank you, Private,” I said, accepting the envelope.

Private Mitchell walked away to continue delivering the mail, and I looked at the crisp white paper in my hand, taking in the curvature of Laura’s pretty handwriting. I sighed as my lips lifted in a smile at the same time that a teasing little noise came from the bunk below mine.

“Look at him, boys. Already blushing like a little girl.”

“Fuck off, Sprague,” I muttered, climbing back onto my bed to tear into the envelope.

I pulled out the folded piece of paper as Sid stood to rest his forearms against my bed. He leaned over, trying to catch sight of what Laura had written, and I shoved him back with a hand against his shoulder .

“Ah, come on,” he jabbed with a laugh. “Not all of us get sent material for the spank bank. Why can’t you share a little with the class?”

I rolled my eyes toward his, emerald green and sparkling. His grin was spread from ear to ear as he flopped forward again to lean against my mattress.

When I had met Sid years ago, I had thought he was an asshole … and he was. I hadn’t been wrong about that. But things between us had changed.

While Justin Ridley, Matt Tomlinson, and Greg Dumass had gone on to other bases around the country, Sid and I had managed to follow each other. Our relationship had begun strained and tumultuous at best, but over the years, I’d learned that Laura had been right.

The dude didn’t know how to make friends, even when he desperately wanted them.

I understood now that his teasing wasn’t meant in a necessarily malicious manner, even if there was no other way to take it. It was simply his way of reaching out, of socializing and getting a laugh out of others, and I tried not to hold it against him now.

But, man, the guy didn’t know when to stop before he pissed someone off.

“Back it up, Sid,” I said, lying back and crossing my ankles, one over the other.

“Give a guy a little something, man. She send any pictures?”

“No.” I snorted and shook my head.

Laura would never.

God, but I wished she had. It’d been six months since I had last seen her.

The last time I’d been home, I’d found out she had pierced her navel, and, fuck, I loved it more than I should’ve.

That little pink jewel on her belly had driven me crazy, and now I wondered, What else has she done to change herself? Has she cut her hair? Dyed it?

Two weeks , I told myself. Two weeks, and I’ll see her again .

“Hey, so I was thinking,” Sid started to say, and I groaned, pinching my eyes shut.

“ Why are you still standing there, Corporal?”

“Yeah, I know, sorry, but I wanted to ask you something—"

“Does this have to happen now ?” I huffed, dropping the letter to my chest and rolling my head against my pillow to face him.

Why I couldn’t have been stationed with Justin or Greg or Matt, I didn’t know.

But I guessed it was fitting. Sid and I were the only ones without any prospect for a future outside of this.

Justin and Matt had gotten themselves serious girlfriends in the years I’d known them, and Greg had gotten married to Christy a couple of years ago—as expected—and was anticipating the birth of his first kid.

The guy was the same age as me and already had a family while I had my title and a never-ending fling at home.

Sid didn’t have it much better. Arguably, he had it worse, not having anyone but his mom and kid brother waiting for his return.

“So, my mom told me she was heading up to Mass to stay with my uncle for a while,” he said. “You know, the one in Beverly.”

I furrowed my brow. “Okay?” I replied.

“He apparently had a heart attack or some shit and needs triple bypass surgery—"

“Holy shit, Sid. I’m sorry.”

Sid’s uncle was the only relative he’d ever spoken about, outside of his mom and brother. I knew how close they were.

He shrugged like it didn’t matter, but the hurt was evident in his eyes. “Yeah, well, you wouldn’t be surprised if you saw the guy. Dude goes ham on dirty water dogs every time he comes down to the city. But, anyway, since we’re being discharged at the same time and we’ll be in the same area—"

“No,” I said, immediately picturing Sid Sprague all over one or both of my sisters. “No way.”

He threw his arms up. “What?! Dude, come on! I’m not asking to, like, stay together or something. I just thought we could chill. Maybe you could meet my mom and little bro, and I could—"

“You’re not meeting my sisters.”

He frowned, stepping back as if I’d just slapped him. “I wasn’t even talking about your sisters, man. I was thinking—"

“No fucking way are you meeting Laura,” I interrupted with a warning glare.

Sid huffed and waved a dismissive hand. “Fine, whatever. I thought we could hang out or something, but never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“Don’t take it person—"

“No, no, no, Maximillian. Don’t you worry about little ol’ me. I’ll just wander the streets of Massachusetts alone. I don’t need you, even if you are my best buddy in the entire world.”

He climbed onto his bunk as I lifted the letter again, rolling my eyes and muttering, “Shut up, asshole. Best buddy in the entire world … what the hell …”

“You don’t think you’re my best friend? Really? Well, fuck you too, Serg. Gonna look up your address and drop a deuce on your front lawn—how ‘bout that?”

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t be there anyway.”

I unfolded the sheet of paper, the scent of her sweet, fruity perfume wafting from between the lines.

“Oh, no? Where you going? On a hot little sexcapade with Laura?” he teased, bumping the bottom of my mattress with his fist.

“No,” I muttered absentmindedly, scanning the first few lines. “I stay with Ricky …”

Max,

Right now, at the time I’m writing this, it’s August 11th, which means that, in less than a month, you’ll be home. I can’t wait to see you. Maybe we could go out. Get a drink or something, like real grown-ups.

Isn’t that crazy—that we’re adults now? I mean, I know we’ve technically been adults for years now, but it only just started to hit me.

Honestly, I didn’t feel like an adult until I moved into the apartment with Molly, but I feel like you’ve been an adult since you left.

And now you’re really grown up, Mr. Sergeant. I still can’t get over that. It’s wild.

So, I should probably tell you —

“Ricky … Ricky’s your friend, right?” Sid’s voice pushed through the reading haze, and I groaned impatiently.

“What?” I called over the side of the bunk, irritated.

“You stay with Ricky … he’s your friend?”

“Right, yeah. He’s, uh … he’s my best friend.”

I lifted the letter again to resume reading.

Sid snorted. “Oh, I see how it is. I can’t be your BFF because you got another man waiting for you at home. I got it. Whatever, bro. I’m—"

“Fuck, Sid, give me a second, okay? Christ …”

So, I should probably tell you something though.

I went on a date with another guy. His name is Brett.

It wasn’t a big deal or anything. We just went out to dinner.

But he did kiss me, and I don’t know why I feel like I need to tell you this, but I do.

Like, the whole night, I felt like I was cheating on you when, really, what the hell are we?

We’re not anything, right? We establish this every single time we’re together, but we don’t feel like nothing. Not to me anyway.

Anyway, I haven’t seen him again. Well, no, I take that back. We work together, so I see him pretty much every day, but I just meant I haven’t gone out with him again. I like him though, so I can’t say I won’t ever go out with him. Just not now.

Okay, that’s my confession. I needed to get it off my chest before you were home because I don’t think I’d be able to look you in the eye and tell you I kissed another guy. I know you want me to think it wouldn’t hurt you, but I know you, Max, and I know it would hurt.

I can’t wait to see you.

Love,

Laura

There was a lump in my throat lodged so tightly that I couldn’t get rid of it, no matter how many times I tried to swallow. The words scrawled onto the paper blurred into a muddled mess until I saw nothing but that confession.

I kissed another guy.