by Jean Stokes
She laughs, and covers her mouth. "Alright, good," she replies, and winks at me. "Feel free to stare at my butt whenever you want, though. A girl's gotta get an ego boost where she can."
I laugh, as she leads me towards the door so we can begin our walk. "Yes, ma'am."
Chapter 12 - SADIE
I'm really glad Dwane seems okay with my reasons for not wanting to pursue a relationship. As much as I know we both want it, it's simply too much of a risk on our permanent record for something that might not last longer than a night.
Besides, I don’t want to make things awkward with Aaron or at the base. If Dwane's transfer is permanent, he'll be here until he gets deployed. Some men are born to go fight for something they believe in, and I can tell Dwane takes great pride in his service, and I don't want to be the reason he can't continue doing what he loves.
So, I keep showing up at his house, and he keeps staring at my butt and breasts when I let him. He does his stretches and I can see him getting stronger by the day.
Honestly, I'm proud of him. A lot of people would just resign themselves to their disability checks and call it a day, but not Dwane. He's determined, he fights for what's important, and I admire that greatly.
We keep things flirty, but never cross that line. I still have to touch him sometimes as part of my job, but we keep it strictly professional. Nothing worse than a G-rated movie. It makes me ache and my heart races whenever I'm near him, but it turns out we're both good at separating our feelings from our goals, and I'm confident that he'll be able to recover and get back to fighting shape like he needs to.
I know that something is happening when I report in at Fort Bliss. After pitching the private sessions to the sergeant, he had agreed on the condition that I come in once a week and give him an update on Dwane's progress.
If the energy on the base isn't enough to tip me off that something has happened, the fact that both Aaron and Dwane are there, and a bus full of new recruits, is definitely a big red flag.
I get out of my car and approach Aaron and Dwane. "What's going on?" I ask.
"We have fresh orders," Aaron replies. His jaw is set, and he looks conflicted about the situation. I know he's started seeing someone, a new woman in town named Talia, and they were getting quite close.
A quick look to Dwane tells me what I already suspect—Aaron wants to go, and it's going to be terrible to break the news to her.
I frown. "I didn't get any orders," I say thoughtfully.
"They probably want you to stay behind and train new people," Dwane offers. I hum in thought, nodding to myself. I don't particularly like the idea of being sent overseas into an active warzone. I'll be more useful here.
"I'll double check," I say, and leave them to enter the sergeant's office building. He's inside, and gestures for me to come in when I knock. "Sergeant Monroe, I heard there were new orders?"
"Yes, Holloway," he replies. "But not for you. You'll be remaining here with the newer recruits and those who don't pass the physical assessments."
I nod, unable to help feeling relieved at hearing confirmation that I wouldn't be going.
"How has Private Foster been progressing?" he asks.
I press my lips together. "It's been going well," I say, hoping that I'm not blushing. "He's getting stronger by the day and seems to be doing a lot better." I hesitate. "My professional recommendation is not to send him, however. He's not fit for active combat right now."
"I figured as much," Monroe replies with a sigh. "That's going to be a fun conversation." I don't say anything, but internally, I wince. "Dismissed, Holloway, thank you."
I nod, and leave. Aaron is gone by the time I go out, but Dwane is still by my car, like he was waiting for me. "So," he says with a weak smile, "I guess this is goodbye for now."
I frown. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, when I'm deployed, I'll be gone for six to twelve months." He shrugs.
I can't help it. I laugh. "Dwane, you've made incredible progress, but you can't possibly think you're going to take an assessment. Or that you'll pass."
His brow creases, shoulders tensing in defensiveness. "Who says?" he demands.
"When is the order to go out?" I ask.
"Two weeks."
"Two weeks," I repeat. "There's no way. Dwane, I'm good, and you're doing really well, but neither of us are miracle workers. You can't even jog yet. How are you going to carry all your equipment and run?" I shake my head. "There's no way. You'll have to stay here and keep working on your training."
His expression darkens, and he shakes his head. "No," he snaps. "No way in Hell. I'm going."
"Dwane," I sigh.
"No! I can't—No. You have to believe in me, Sadie. You can't give up on me. Not you." I stare at him, helplessly. What does he want me to say? "I'll train twice, three times as hard. I'll pass the assessment, and I'll go."
I swallow harshly.
"I have to go with Aaron," he insists, fists clenching at his sides. "I have to make sure he comes back. And I have to go fight. I'm not—If I'm not a soldier, then I'm nothing."
"There's more to you than a medal," I say quietly. "I can't force you to stay, and if you really want to train harder, I can push you harder, but as I said before, I'm not going to skirt around an issue. I don't think it can be done and I'm worried you're going to injure yourself trying."
"Well—" He stops. I see himself physically swallowing back the sharp words he wants to fling my way. I press my lips together and fold my arms across my chest, and he shakes his head again, looking away. "I'm going to do it," he says again, like he's repeating a mantra to himself. "I'm going to do it, and I'm going to make it. I'm not going to be a cripple for the rest of my life."
I frown again. "Of course you're not," I reply. "But you definitely won't if you go overseas and get yourself killed."
"If you're not interested in helping me anymore, I'll go to the sergeant and request a different trainer," he says. My eyes widen at how cold his voice is. I'm so used to looking at him and seeing warmth in his dark eyes, feeling it radiate off him. Now it's like he's an ice pack on my bare skin, and I shiver.
"Of course I'm still going to help you," I say, just as harshly. "I don't give up on a project and I'm not giving up on you."
"Good," he snips. "Then I guess we'd better get to work."
I nod. "Fine. Let's go," I say, and turn away, leading him towards the training field. If he has something to prove, he's going to prove it out in the open.
Chapter 13 - DWANE
I don't pass the assessment. All the blood, sweat, and tears, and I stumble as soon as they put the weighted rucksack on my back and ask me to jog.
I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but it still stings. It's just confirmation that I'm not good enough—that no matter how hard I try, I won't succeed. All because a stray piece of metal screwed up my leg.
Damn it.
The worse part of it is knowing how Sadie is going to look at me when I show up, very much still here and not deployed. The pity—God, I can't take that. I never want her to look at me like that, like I'm some broken thing she's obligated to fix.
Aaron passes, of course. I text him some vague congratulations from my house, staring at the box television I have yet to actually turn on and use. I've never been much of a television watcher, preferring instead to interact with real people than just mindlessly watch a show or movie. I don't judge those who do that to unwind, but that's never been me.
I'm not surprised when Aaron shows up. The news with his girlfriend didn't go over well. He's distraught and wants to drink his thoughts away. I want to drink mine away too—what could have been if I hadn't been injured. If Aaron would switch places with me, then he could stay with a good woman who loves him, and I could do what I've always been good at.
"I'm sorry you didn't pass, man," Aaron slurs, four beers in and sprawled across the couch I still haven't put back. Sadie didn't visit me today, after the news of the assessment came out. I'm not
sure if I wanted her to, but the fact that she hasn't even reached out stings more than I care to admit.
I shrug from my chair, since Aaron is taking up the entire couch. "It is what it is," I reply. "I'll get you next year."
"Yeah, you will," Aaron says with a smile, which crumples immediately after. He sucks in a shaky breath and rubs the heel of his hand into his eye. "God, we leave so soon, too. It doesn't feel real."
"We should have a last hurrah," I suggest. "Get Scott and Jamie involved."
Aaron huffs. "Scott's mad at me too," he mutters into the lip of his bottle, tipping it back and gulping noisily. "Thinks I'm screwing up by dumping Talia. Or letting her dump me. I don't know."
"Women," I murmur morosely. Aaron grunts in agreement, and peers at me with squinting eyes, hazy with alcohol.
"So," he says, after a long moment of staring at me. "Can't help but notice you and Sadie have been hanging out a lot."
"Yeah, well, she was my physical trainer," I reply.
"Was?" he repeats.
"I . . . don't know. I guess not. But, I don't know." I sigh and shake my head. "I might have screwed it up. I snapped at her when she said she didn't think I could get back in shape in time for the assessment. And she was right, because the woman's always right." I laugh. "And now I don't know if she wants to see me anymore."
Aaron sits up, careening forward precariously. He puts his elbow on his knee and points at me. "You gotta fight for that shit, Dwane," he hiccups, eyes earnest and wide. "Don't—Don't make the same mistakes I have, alright? Sadie's awesome, and if she likes you, and you like her . . ."
"It's not the same as dating a civilian, Aaron, you know that."
Aaron hums, and flops back down. He finishes his beer in another series of noisy slurps. "Yeah," he sighs. "Maybe it'd be easier, though. Don't have to worry about explaining the life to someone who's lived it, you know? Sadie—she gets it. Deployment, the honor, the need to fight for your country. For something worth a damn."
He winces.
I smile at my friend, and stand, patting his knee. "Sleep it off, soldier," I tell him. He blinks up at me and grins, lopsided and dimpled. "And do me a favor. Don't get killed over there, yeah?"
"You got it," Aaron slurs, giving me an off angle thumbs up. I smile, and take his beer bottle from him, setting it on the table with the others so he doesn't drop it. Aaron's eyelids droop, and he sighs, rolling over and clutching one of the couch cushions like it's a person.
I pat his head and head up to bed, feeling drained in a way that has nothing to do with the ache in my leg. This pain is all in my head and my chest. I want to call Sadie and apologize for my behavior, but I'm still angry at her for doubting me. At her for being right. At my own body for failing me.
I didn't drink as much as Aaron, but my phone screen is still slightly blurry when I check it one last time for messages. There's nothing from Sadie, but I suppose it's foolish to hope that there might be.
I open our text message chain, which is little more than recommendations for lidocaine cream, more references to stretches I can do, and reminders or information if our schedule were to change. We keep everything strictly professional when it might be recorded.
I hover over the text message box that I'll need to press to write a message. Idly, I consider just calling her, but it's late and she's an early riser. I don't want to wake her up to ramble tipsy rants and apologies at her.
The fact of the matter is I miss her. It's been hardly more than a day since I've seen her, but I have grown accustomed to seeing her first thing in the morning and spending most of the day with her. I could pick her laugh out of a crowd, and follow her scent all over Witmer if I had to. I miss making her smile or doing something to get her to arch a brow in that haughty, amused way she does.
"So much for keeping things professional," I mutter to myself, plugging my phone in and turning it over so I'm not tempted. After a moment, I put it under my bed too, just for that extra barrier between me and temptation.
I sigh to myself, rubbing a hand over the back of my neck. My head is already starting to throb with the beginnings of a headache, and I go back downstairs to take some aspirin and water. When I return to my bedroom, I can't help check my phone one more time.
Nothing.
I swallow down my disappointment, and climb into bed. I stuff three pillows under my bad knee and foot, and lie on my back staring up at the ceiling. I close my eyes, and do my best to sleep.
Chapter 14 - SADIE
Even though every instinct in me tells me to reach out to Dwane and make sure he's okay, I force myself not to. He's going to be upset over not passing the assessment and getting clearance to go overseas, and will likely blame me for failing him, and I don't want to get caught up in the middle of that.
I know I'm good at my job. Some injuries just can't be solved in three weeks. I'm not a miracle worker, no matter how much praise I've received to the contrary.
Aaron's going to be leaving. It hurts to think about, since I know how much he's been struggling since he went on leave and now. He's leaving more than an empty house behind, but a big part of me understands as well. Some people like Aaron aren't made for the sedentary, white picket fence life. I certainly don't consider myself one of those people either.
Still, I'm going to miss him, and if the jerk doesn't send me letters every now and again to reassure me he's still alive, I'm going to go overseas myself and wring his neck.
When the news breaks out, everyone is subdued. Scott and Jamie are more quiet than usual when we hang out, and I can see their relationships become strained by the news that Aaron will go.
"Damn fool," Scott mutters, glowering into his beer. Ava is notably absent, and I wonder if they had a fight and if it was about Aaron. I regret not being more interested in their lives, but they don't really ask about mine, either. We give each other space, like a pack of wolves that live their own lives, but will run to each other if we hear a cry for help.
I sigh in sympathy. "He'll be alright," I offer. Scott merely scoffs, and rolls his eyes.
*
I don't hear about the fight with the Burchell brothers until the day after, nor the fact that apparently Aaron decided last minute that he's not going to leave. He's going to stay and fight for something else – for love.
It's so sentimental and romantic, so unlike him. Talia is a lucky girl, and she might be a miracle worker herself for how much she's changed my friend.
When I learn that Dwane was involved in the showdown with the brothers, and got into the fight as well, I'm livid. I drive to his house and next morning and pound my fist on his door.
I can hear him limping towards the door. I swear to God, if he's injured . . .
He opens it, blinking blearily at me. "What were you thinking?" I demand, pushing past him and whirling on him to glare as he closes the door. "Getting into a fight? Did you even stop to think how that would look on your record? Or how it would affect your leg?"
"I'm fine," he mutters, narrowing his eyes at me. "Why do you even care?"
"Why do I care?" I laugh bitterly. "Because you're my friend, Dwane! Because I happen to like you and don't want you losing your damn leg because you got into a fight with some backwater hicks! Because it's my damn job to make sure you don't get hurt!"
"I don't need you to defend me," he snaps, baring his teeth. "It's not like you really care. You pawned me off the first chance you got! I haven't heard from you in days."
I blink at him, shocked. Is that how he interpreted me giving him space? "Dwane," I murmur.
"No. It doesn't matter. I get it. I'm broken, and you couldn't fix me. You shouldn't have to fix me—not like I'm worth fixing. I'm messed up and not just physically, I get that. I'm not worth risking anything for," he says coldly.
I swallow harshly. "I thought you wanted space," I whisper.
He shakes his head. "Don't make excuses, Sadie. I get it. We don't have to worry about this anymore." He gestures between us. "You
just want a project. Well, I'm a Humpty Dumpty that's not getting put back together."
My throat goes tight, and I can feel my eyes burn with unshed tears. "That's not what this is at all," I insist. I reach for him, but he steps back, so I can't touch without taking another step forward. I don't want to make him feel cornered, so I let my hand drop.
I look down. He's standing at that awkward way again. I frown. "Did you get injured?" I ask.
"I'm fine," he says again.
"Damn it, Dwane!" Just like that, the anger is back, helping me control my tears. "You might have ruined all of our hard work—"
"Our hard work?" he parrots mockingly.
"I helped you, you don't get to take that away from me," I snap. "If it weren't for me, you'd be so much worse and you're not allowed to deny it." He opens his mouth, and then snaps his teeth back together, glaring at me. It would be intimidating to anyone else, but I grew up around soldiers and I've seen him at his most vulnerable, at his weakest.
I'm not afraid of him.
But, I do feel sorry for him. It's not pity. Scott told me, briefly, what went down, and Aaron backed it up, so I know Dwane didn't go out expecting a fight. He just defended his clan, because that's what wolves—what soldiers—do. They fight together in the foxhole until the last man.
He looks at me, and swallows. "There it is," he whispers, sounding defeated. The laugh he lets out is raw and soft and horrible to my ears. "I don't want your pity, Sadie."
"I don't pity you," I say, tears forming again. "I admire you, Dwane. Your confidence and determination to overcome your injury. I really believe that you can, and you will, because you won't let yourself fail. But every setback hits you like a killing blow, and you can't keep letting it."
"Are you a trainer or a therapist?" Dwane mutters.
"I'm your friend!" I say. "At least, I thought I was."