by Jesse Jordan
To a lot of women, that would be a turn off, but I understand. I reach for the side of the pool, and pull myself up, only realizing when I'm all the way out that I just gave Ivan a view of my butt. I blush, and look back, my blush deepening when I see that yes, he was checking me out. “Would you like to walk back together?”
“Very much so,” Ivan replies, hoisting himself out of the water, looking better than any Hollister model ever. He rubs at his hair, sending a fine spray everywhere. “Thankfully, male cadets have an easier time with our hair than you. I will wait in the hallway.”
He's true to his word, his bag over his shoulder as I emerge from the women's locker room, my own swim bag over my shoulder. “We missed dinner again,” Ivan notes, checking the clock on the wall. “Was that on purpose?”
“Not really, but I have food in my room. Really,” I tell him. “My roommate may not like it, but I went to the PX and bought some meal replacement powders. I want to be as lean and as fit as possible for the swim open.”
“Just for that reason?” Ivan asks seriously. “I will not tolerate you trying to lose weight in order to please a foolish bitch like Jordan Quackenbush.”
I can't help it, I smile at hearing someone call Jordan a foolish bitch. “You know Ivan, you say that in the wrong area, you'll be joining your roomie doing hours on the weekend.”
Ivan shrugs, unconcerned. “If the other cadets would see her the way I see her, they would understand. Since they do not, their opinion is of no concern to me.”
“And what is your opinion?” I ask suddenly, stopping. We're back behind Washington Hall again, and I can see the mist rising from Ivan’s hair. It's not winter yet, that's still knocking around the corner, but there's a chill in the air at night.
“As I said, I think she is foolish and spoiled,” Ivan replies, setting his bag down. “She has spent most of her life as the pretty princess who has men fall to their knees when she bats her eyes or gives them a whiff of glittery perfume, and does not understand the genetic blessings she has been given. She thinks that her athletic ability is the result of just her hard work, which is foolish. I am not saying she is not a good athlete, but she is built for the APFT. Meanwhile, I suspect that if she were to step inside the boxing ring, or into the pool with you, she would find herself in a very different world of pain. But what is most condemning about her is that she is blind to the advantages she has. Instead, she tears others down to try and assert her Alpha female status, not realizing she is making herself and her unit weaker that way. I pity the platoon of soldiers she will take over when she graduates this May.”
It's perhaps the most eloquent damning of another cadet I've ever heard, and the way Ivan's voice drips with emotion is breathtaking. “And... me?”
Ivan looks into my eyes and takes my hand, pulling me close. “You... you are beautiful.”
He draws me closer, and I push away, protesting. “Ivan, we're in cadet areas, we can't....”
He won't be denied however, and when his lips touch mine my resistance melts instantly. Our kiss deepens, my hands going from his chest to his neck, pulling him to me. Ivan's tongue traces my lips and I let him in, moaning deep in my chest as I taste him, and his hands cup my ass. I'm aching deep inside me when he steps back, his blue eyes not icy but fiery with meaning. “There are ways I think about you that I cannot put into words, Christina. I apologize if I pushed too far. I think I will return to the barracks alone, it would be better. Safer.”
He turns and jogs off, leaving me breathless in the dimly lit walking path. I watch him go, and I want to call out after him, to tell him to stop, but I don't. I'm still too stunned from that single searing, intense kiss. My body's on fire, and even though it was dangerous, I know that I liked it. Heck, it was the best kiss I've ever had in my entire life, and I want more.
Chapter 6
Ivan
The Firstie cadet on room check duty sticks his head in just as the last notes of Taps fades away and room checks begin. He sees that Gene and I are here then closes the door, not saying anything. “Well, good night to you too,” Gene says, 'flipping the bird' at the door. “Hey Ivan, you've been quiet tonight. You okay?”
“Yes, I am okay. Just thinking a lot,” I reply. I broke so many rules kissing Christina. Not just the rules of the Corps, it was foolish to try and kiss a girl for the first time in such a public area as where we did, but also for kissing her at all. There was no mission there, no reason to do so. I kissed her because I wanted to kiss her, that's all. “What about you? You are normally much more talkative.”
“Just busy, man. I made my decision, I'm transferring after next semester,” Gene says, shaking his head. “I'm tired of this bullshit, Ivan. Fuck the Corps, and fuck this place. I'm going to ride out the last free semester, see if I can get some transfer credits, and then I'm out.”
“Where will you go?” I ask, curious. Gene has been half of the heat magnet that is this room, but he is not a bad boy. He is not meant for the military, but he is not the worthless piece of shit that so many of the other cadets see him as. I even like him somewhat, even if I cannot call him a friend.
“I'm from Pennsylvania, originally. I thought I'd transfer to Penn State, they've got good programs, they accept transfer credits from the Academy, and I'll get in-state tuition until I can get my GPA back up to qualify for scholarships. Best of all, I won't have assholes worrying if my socks are folded properly any longer. During winter break I'm going to go do a campus visit, talk to some of their admissions people,” Gene says. “Hell, maybe I can actually meet a girl.”
“There are girls here,” I say, and Gene laughs. “What?”
“Not ones that like me,” Gene replies, then pulls his headphones on again. “Whatever man, I've got a deathmatch in five. See if I can get that done before I need to crash for the morning. 'Night, man.”
“Good play, Gene,” I reply, looking at my own computer. My classes are as prepared as I can make them, and I decide to indulge in some sketching. Unlike what Christina has told me of her work, I work strictly in black and white, but I think what I do is okay. I have been working on a portrait, and I hope it is worthy of the subject.
It is nearly one in the morning when my cell phone beeps, and I see that Gene has gone to sleep. I take my phone and retreat to the bathroom, happy about one thing about being in I-1. Most cadets cannot get a cell signal inside the barracks, the construction bounces cell signals nearly as effective as a Faraday cage. But from the bathroom, I can send messages easily.
The message is in Russian, which I would expect. My handlers do not want anyone to casually see what they are sending me, after all.
I sigh, and type out my response.
The file transfers quickly, it is not much, just a name and a picture. My handlers know that I do not need a lot of information. I am well trained enough that I do not need to have a full dossier in order to achieve my mission.
The picture comes through soon, a pinched face girl with brown hair, the most attractive feature on her being her green eyes.
The texts stay there for another minute, then disappear, deleted. Maybe someone from the CIA or the FBI's Computer Forensics Division could track what has been sent to my phone, I doubt it though. I take a piss,
making sure to give my phone time to clear its memory, then go back to my room. I need to get some sleep, I have physics in the morning, and I need to do well on my final exams.
Still, it is hard to sleep, as every time I try to think of my new target... all I see is Christina.
It is hectic, trying to follow and mark a target during Term End Exams. Normal classes are abandoned, even normal meal formations are forgotten as the military schedule is stripped down. Trying to find and seduce a target in this atmosphere is going to be a challenge.
I walk into Eisenhower barracks, hoping that Daria is in her room while at the same time hoping she isn’t. Being a member of the Brigade Staff is stressful enough I have heard, that many of them simplify their lives to classes, exercise, and military duties only. I have heard rumors that the First Captain has his 'friend with benefits' somewhere in Fourth Regiment, while also having his girlfriend back home in Alabama. I am sure there are others who do the same.
I am lucky, as Daria is in her room, her fingers typing frantically at her laptop when I knock. “Yeah?”
“Hi,” I greet her, coming in. “How are you doing?”
She lifts her eyebrow, and I know I am playing a long shot. Some of my reputation for being a loser has come from playing this gambit before, but it is effective. Dumb foreign stud who can be an easy boy toy, until I flip the tables on them. It worked with Vanessa Hollister, and quite a few others. “Do I know you?”
“No, my apologies. My name is Ivan, I saw you in the bookstore the other day and I wanted to come and make my introductions,” I say, grinning bashfully. “I know you are busy, but... well, when a woman such as yourself catches my eye, I have to make an effort.”
Daria stands up and comes around her desk, looking at me. “Hmmm, Ivan... I think I've heard of you. Ukraine, right?”
“Yes ma'am,” I say, falling back on a bit of a submissive role. One of the rules I learned, let some targets feel like they have control until they suddenly realize they are totally out of control, and they need it that way. “I am from the Ukraine.”
“You got a lot of balls, a Yuk coming to my room like you are just to say hello,” Daria muses, running her finger over the yellow shield on my collar, a sign of my class. “And what would a woman like me need with a Yuk like you?”
“As you say, I have a lot of balls,” I reply, flashing a little grin. Submissive, but just a little cocky. A test to see how willing she is, or if I have to play this one possibly too long term for my handlers to have the patience for.
Her frown tells me everything I need to know, since it contrasts hard with the twinkle in her eye. “I see. Hmmm... I've heard your name before for sure, Ivan. And how do you know I don't have someone to help me in the way you are offering?”
“I do not. But I do know that I can offer a large amount of assistance,” I reply, still smiling. “I just would like a chance. Ma'am.”
“I see,” Daria replies. “Well, as much as I'd like to see what you've got, Ivan... I have a final in an hour. Not enough time for what I think I need to evaluate. I'll be in touch though.”
I know what I should do, push the line just a little. If I can get her to break a rule now, even a small one, it makes it easier to cross the next line, and the next, and the next. But instead, I nod and leave, confused as I leave Ike and head back towards Pershing Barracks.
Why could I not close the deal? She wants me, I could see that. If she had not had that final, I probably could have had her right there, whoever she is fucking is not pleasing her the way she wants. And by teasing it out, by going in class uniform, it makes it easier for her to walk away. As she said, I am just a Yearling, a Yuk. Do not seduce a cadet target in class uniform if you can help it, that was one of the rules!
Sighing, I go back to my room, and start my own studying. Daria is not the only person with a final exam soon, and I really should try and review some Portuguese before the test. I would like to do better than a C in the class.
Later, I ignore Daria's email and phone call, sending back a lame excuse, and instead go swimming with Christina. We have made time for swimming twice a week since our kiss, and I have to admit, even more than my boxing training, it is the most enjoyable part of my preparation for the Brigade Boxing Open. I was not lying to her that swimming is excellent physical training for boxing, my shoulders and lungs have never felt stronger, but I know that is not the reason I am enjoying the time in the water so much.
“Ivan?” Christina asks, as we leave Arvin Gym on Thursday night. Tomorrow is the last day of exams, and I have only one more test. “Hey, you okay?”
“Hmm?” I ask, partly distracted. I had seen Daria again today, in the bookstore, and again made an excuse to back away. My training and my instincts are in conflict, and I feel like I am trying to do two things at the same time, keep her dangling along enough that I can fuck her and set her up for future exploitation, but at the same time... I do not want to. “Sorry. I guess my mind is on mathematics right now.”
“I understand. I've got English tomorrow afternoon myself, and I've been freaking out for two days about it,” Christina admits. “You wouldn't happen to be good in persuasive English writing, are you?”
“No, I am not looking forward to that class next year where I will be marked down for strange word choices, occasional British spelling, and lack of contractions. As it is now, I must spend extra time re-reading some of my texts in order to understand them. At least mathematics is universal,” I admit, shaking my head. “I should probably choose math as my major for just that reason, except that I do not like math.”
Christina laughs, but it is not cruel. “Well then, tell you what. How about you and I both just de-stress tonight? You took me out to Grant Hall last time, how about I take you bowling tonight? You have been bowling, right?”
“Yes... it is quite popular in the Ukraine,” I tell her. “But I am not skilled at it.”
“Neither am I, silly. It's not going to be about having high scores, it's about the fact that the snack bar there has good food. It’s still early enough that we can have some fun and be able to get to sleep at a normal hour tonight to get ready for tomorrow. Come on, Ivan. I'm asking you out on a date.”
I stop, and I have to admit I am smiling from her word choice. “A pretty girl like you wishes to go out on a date with me?”
“Keep calling me pretty, and I might even pay for the fried cheese sticks,” Christina says, blushing. “Come on. You've inspired me to not worry about what the people Karli calls fucktards think about me. So... let's just have some fun?”
“I would like that very much.”
Perhaps the only frustrating part about going to the bowling alley is that I am not allowed to wear my PT uniform, and instead have to wear my class uniform. Christina comes out of her room in a class uniform as well, and sees my disappointment. “What?”
“I was hoping you would wear civilian clothes, that is all,” I say honestly. “Seeing cadet uniforms all the time is tiresome.”
“Well then, next semester I'll make sure to bring some civilian clothes that I'd feel comfortable wearing on a date,” Christina says, smiling. “But unless you want me in baggy jeans and one of those old fashioned USMA sweatshirts they sell in the cadet store, I'm afraid I'm out of options.”
I nod, and then smile. “Okay. Let us not waste time then.”
“Wait,” Christina says, waving me into her room. “Before that... I'd like you to see these. I promised you I'd let you see them when I was finished.”
Sandi Petrowski rolls her eyes when I come in, but says nothing, and I take the drawing pad from Christina as she holds it out. I open the cover, stunned by what I see. She drew me in a realistic comic book style, but I can tell that it is me as I look through each image, amazed. There is me hitting the heavy bag, the bag looking like it is about to be folded in half as my fist crashes into the side. Here is me jumping rope, or... “This is truly remarkable. You are better than professional artists.”
Christina looks at the drawing I am looking at now, blushing. “It was a good one to work on my facial feature drawings with,” she demurs. “It was a lucky picture.”
The picture is of me, my hands up in my stance, perhaps a little open to allow her to draw my whole face, but the shading of my eyes and hair nearly photorealistic. I can even see the sweat trickling down my cheek. “Christina, these are not lucky. You are a very talented artist. May I ask a favor?”
“They're yours,” Christina says, and I shake my head. “What?”
“Let us photocopy these, or scan them in very high resolution. I would like copies, but the originals, those are yours to keep. Just... you make me seem heroic in them, and that is amazing.” I hand the book back to her, and smile. “When I finish my drawings, maybe we can exchange them. However, I think you are a far superior artist than I am. Shall we go?”
We leave the barracks and start walking. The air is cool, and I feel good as we walk side by side. The romantic side of me, the part that Christina awakens in me, wants to reach out and take her hand, but we are not allowed to in uniform, and the risk is high right now. Christina looks over as we come down the slight hill towards the bowling alley, smiling. I can tell she feels the same way I do. “So will you continue to train during Christmas break?”
“I have to,” I reply. “The Brigade Open is too close to after we get back to go soft. It will at least be easier for me than the fighters in the lower weight classes, I do not have to worry about dieting, I am comfortably a heavyweight. What about you?”
“There... there aren't any pools near my house,” Christina says with a bit of sadness, and I wonder what I said to upset her. “I will still go running, things like that though. I have the APFT soon after we get back, I don't want to struggle with it again like I did this semester.”
“Speaking of that, I have watched you swim, I do not think it is a matter of your shoulder or arm strength that is holding you back on the pushups,” I tell her. “You cannot swim as well as you do with weak shoulders.”