Fearing Coach J’s fury, Hannah picked up her pace and tried not to be distracted by the flowers in bloom. As she entered the gym and jogged down the hall, she quickly tucked her silver cross necklace into her T-shirt and checked her watch, which told her she was three minutes late. The next thing she knew, Hannah looked up, expecting to push through the door to the women’s locker room, but instead crashed into a guy standing in the doorway.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said to her, putting up a hand between them. “Slow down, plebe.”
The cadet wore black gym shorts and West Point’s typical gray T-shirt with his last name blazoned above the school crest. Hannah read it quickly, the way you’d read the license plate of a car in the midst of a hit-and-run. COLLINS. It sounded familiar, but Hannah couldn’t exactly pinpoint where she’d heard the name before. The cadet had sharp green eyes, wavy black hair, and a smile that made Hannah feel unsettled. He was standing too close to her.
“Sorry,” Hannah said, though she wasn’t sure why she was apologizing—he was the one standing in her way.
“No problem,” he said with confidence. “I was just checking on your TP supply. Someone said you guys were running low.”
Something about his story didn’t exactly add up. Hannah had never heard of a cadet working at the Holleder Center—and didn’t they have janitors to resupply toilet paper? Perhaps he’d been in trouble with his company or sports team. Could he be cleaning as punishment? If she’d had more time, she would have asked him. But she was already late.
“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she said, stepping around him to push through the locker room door. “See ya.”
“Yep,” he said. “See ya.”
In the empty locker room, Hannah dropped her bag, changed clothes, and quickly forgot about Collins. It didn’t matter why he was snooping around the Holleder Center. She needed to get out onto the court, and fast, before Coach J had her running suicides until she puked. Again. On a normal day, being this late would have put her in a panic. But Hannah couldn’t help but smile, thinking about Colonel Bennett’s last words before she’d left his classroom.
“Someone’s got to keep that Nesmith on his toes.”
He was right. And something inside Hannah’s heart told her she just might be the perfect girl for the job.
7
Summer 2001 // West Point, New York
Here’s your bay number, Cadet McNalley. Grab your rucksack from the truck. Cross over the gravel road. Bay number eight is a half mile up the hill to the left. Next.”
Camp Buckner, part of West Point’s military training ground, was located five miles from campus in the middle of the woods. It looked like the set of Dirty Dancing, only Patrick Swayze had been replaced by countless other shirtless boys, pretending to be on a mission. A group of guys commanded the volleyball court, already midgame. Another group carried kayaks out onto the lake. Cicadas, mosquitoes, and gnats buzzed around her, adding to the hum of the afternoon. Now, this is college, Dani thought to herself as she received her packet of information from the cadet behind the table and then moved back outside into the mid-July heat. A closed-lipped smile spread across her face.
Of course, all the fun happening today would end abruptly tomorrow when training began.
IN ONE YEAR at West Point, Dani had already learned that friendships born in comfortable circumstances rarely last when times get tough. Her friends from high school just didn’t understand. There was something about being dirty, wet, and exhausted that forced two people to look one another in the eye and burst out laughing. When you get to the end of your rope, and the person next to you is at the end of theirs, it’s possible to find a secret joy that you’re simply surviving together. It was how she and Tim had become such great friends last summer, and how the entire varsity basketball team had bonded, over their shared hatred of Coach Jankovich.
People assumed they would have better friends if they hosted better parties. But the opposite was true. Shared suffering led to unshakeable connections. Pain wanted you to stop. Give up. Quit. But the truth was, you could go so much further than your body said you could, because when the body quit, the heart took over, and the heart was far more powerful than any muscle in the body. It had led women to lift cars off children. It had led men to sacrifice their own lives for their friends—even some for their enemies.
You couldn’t teach that kind of strength. You had to live it. You had to believe what others who had been to that dark place told you. In whispers. In silence. “Trust me. There’s joy down there.”
You could believe them, but you still had to live it.
For the next eight weeks, the entire class of 2004 would live it. Together, they would learn to fire cannons, care for the wounded, shoot live rounds, complete urban missions, overcome a water obstacle course, and navigate through the woods with nothing but a gun, a compass, and a map. The entire place was like a little boy’s dream camp, filled with real tanks, helicopters, and even a handful of enemy combatants—enlisted soldiers from nearby Fort Drum who would dress up like rebel fighters. Buckner would be far better than last year’s Basic Training because she could talk, and because she no longer walked around with eyes permanently bulging. All of the upperclassmen had promised this would be the best summer of her life. And even though their words were drenched with sarcasm, Dani knew they were right.
A year ago, her idea of a dream camp had included a basketball, a hoop, and maybe a few good-looking coaches thrown in. But the Army? Field training? When did I become so gung-ho? Dani wondered. But she didn’t have enough time to consider what a difference a year makes, because at that moment, an Army Humvee arrived, stuffed to the brim with rucksacks—one of which was hers. She needed to find it and go claim a bunk bed before the only one left was above a girl who snored.
AS SHE APPROACHED the truck, three boys opened the hatch and climbed up to start unloading. The tallest of the group was an African-American kid Dani hadn’t seen before. He wore his camouflage pants high on his waist, with a belt cinched tight around his hips. There was something otherworldly about him; his dark hair had been shaved close to his head, and he maneuvered the heavy luggage with ease. The more he worked, the silkier his dark brown skin looked in the sun, and Dani felt suddenly embarrassed. She wasn’t normally one to gawk—but, Lord, she thought, he is not normal.
“Hey!” she shouted toward the shirtless marvel. Up close, he looked like an action figure. “You see McNalley up there?”
Turning, he wiped his forehead and shouted back, “You seen some patience?”
“Nope. Not lately,” replied Dani.
“Why don’t you come up and look for it,” he said, offering her his hand. She took it, and in one motion, he hoisted her up onto the back of the truck, like she weighed nothing at all. For a moment, they were inches apart, Dani staring into his deep brown eyes, shocked by his disarming smile, punctuated by a gap between his front two teeth.
“Locke Coleman,” the guy said, then opened up his hands as if to tell Dani that the truck was hers to explore. “You might as well look for mine while you’re at it.”
“Your patience or your bag?”
“I’ve seen you before,” he said simply. “Aren’t you that point guard?”
“That’s right,” said Dani, flattered that he’d seen her play.
“Sucks to lose, don’t it?” he said jokingly. “Y’all had a rough season.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.”
“No disrespect! I play football. I’m familiar with the losing feeling.”
“We’re going to change that this year, Coleman,” another cadet on the truck shouted. “Fuck Navy. Hey, what’d you say your name was?”
“McNalley,” Dani answered.
A rucksack flew through the air and she caught it against her chest.
“Thanks, guys. See you around.”
She and Locke Coleman exchanged one long moment of eye contact before she jumped off the truck and quickly walked off across the gravel road toward
the bunkhouses. The pressure of his palm against hers had sent an electric shock up her spine. She didn’t want to forget that feeling anytime soon, and yet, she didn’t want to read too much into their interaction, either. Guys always loved to hang out with her, but they rarely saw her as “girlfriend material.” It was her constant relationship kryptonite. She was one of the boys.
BUNKHOUSE NUMBER EIGHT smelled like summer camp: a hopeful combination of sweat, sunscreen, and plastic mattresses, worn out by years of use. Down the narrow hallway, girls were hugging, laughing, and unpacking unnecessary toiletries. Boys roamed the hall half-dressed, checking out who would be living in close proximity for the next eight weeks. Dani shook her head, surprised by the insanity of the premise: West Point put a thousand nineteen-year-olds in the woods for a summer, crossed their fingers, and hoped for the best. It was like a social experiment, created to determine how much sexual frustration you could stuff into one square mile.
Suddenly, a girl with dirty-blond hair dressed in black shorts and a gray T-shirt stepped into the hallway. Dani immediately recognized Hannah Speer and felt a surge of gratitude fill her chest. Straightforward and honest, Hannah had spent last year working hard on the JV basketball team, never once complaining or holding a grudge against Dani for her success on varsity. Minutes earlier, Dani had had no idea who she’d be forced to live with, but now, seeing Hannah’s bright blue eyes and easy smile, she knew she’d have at least one friend this summer.
“McNalley!” Hannah shouted. “Get down here!”
Trotting quickly, Dani arrived in the doorway and peeked inside. Five bunk beds lined the walls, leaving a square space on the floor. Smiling, Dani surveyed the girls in the room and realized she recognized every single face—the entire sophomore class of female basketball recruits. Lisa Johnson and Megan O’Leary had claimed the bunk by the back wall. Kate Shoemaker’s rucksack waited on the bottom bunk near the door, and above that, Dani spotted a bright-blond ponytail hanging down from the top bunk, as if Rapunzel were letting down her hair. The girl turned over and looked down, her eyes assessing Dani with sharp disdain.
Avery Adams let out a loud sigh, then rolled back over. “Oh great. Gang’s all here.”
Dani looked to Hannah, who quickly waved Avery off with a gesture that said, Ignore her. But the moment was hard to disregard. If she was going to live in this tiny room, crammed with ten girls for the entire summer, Dani at least wanted to feel welcome.
“Is there a problem, Adams?” she said. “Because we can address it right now, if you’d like. Unless you’d rather go across the hall and sleep with the offensive line?”
“Excuse me?” Avery snapped, closing the magazine. “They don’t have enough room over there for you? Your ego take up too much space?”
“Hey, hey, hey,” Hannah interjected, putting her hands up. “Just everybody chill out, okay? Geez. We just got here.”
Avery looked down at Hannah, who offered the same wave of the hand that minutes before she’d given Dani. Though she could have been pissed, the whole interaction made Dani laugh. Hannah was clearly the mother of the crew—already fulfilling her role perfectly.
Though Dani had never noticed it before, Avery and Hannah looked like they could be sisters. Avery’s hair was lighter and Hannah was taller, but side by side, they looked like opposing reflections in a mirror. It was fascinating to Dani that two people who looked so alike on the surface could be so different beneath it. Avery cussed quickly and often, while Hannah’s favorite curse word was shenanigans. Avery held her body like she knew how to use it, while Hannah bumped into things clumsily, like a little girl who still wasn’t used to having an adult body. Appearances could be so very deceiving.
For the time being, Dani decided to follow Hannah’s advice and ignore Avery’s rude behavior. To room with the girls’ basketball team all summer was far better than getting stuck with a bunch of random girls she didn’t know. But West Point wasn’t keen on giving out pleasant surprises. There had to be a catch.
“So is this a mistake?” Dani asked rhetorically. “Would they really put us all in the same room?”
“I unpacked as fast as I could,” laughed Hannah. “Before they realize what they’ve done.”
“No one’s asking any fucking questions,” Avery said, her eyes buried again in the People magazine photo spread of Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston.
“If it was a mistake, it’s a good one,” said Lisa, from the other side of the room. Taller than any girl on the team, Lisa Johnson had a head full of cornrows and long fingers that she presently used to point in all their faces. “I’m with Avery. No one talks.”
“So what does this mean?” Dani asked, taking a seat next to Hannah on the bottom bunk. “Are we in the same company too?”
“Charlie,” Hannah answered in the affirmative.
“The guys too,” Lisa said, pointing across the hall toward the room of football players. “All Charlie Company.”
Dani quickly realized her luck: if all the football players were in Charlie Company, that meant Locke Coleman—the guy she’d met just a few minutes ago out among the rucksacks—was going to be near her all summer.
“Oh snap!” Dani shouted excitedly. “If we’re in the same company as those guys, then no one else stands a chance! We’re the most athletic girls in our class, by far. And they’re some of the most athletic guys. Our company is going to crush this!”
“Ooh,” Avery cooed from the top bunk, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t we cocky?”
“I’m cocky because I know how awesome we all are,” Dani replied. “And that includes you, Adams. You’re fast as hell.”
That seemed to soften her, because in that moment, Avery turned her gaze from the magazine and looked at Dani straight in the eyes, as if to determine whether or not the compliment was genuine.
“That’s not what Coach Jankovich thinks.”
“Yeah, well, screw Coach J.”
“Can we not talk about her this summer please?” said Lisa from her bunk. “Thanks.”
“I thought you two were like, best friends,” Avery added to Dani.
“Are you kidding? That woman is the most racist person I’ve ever met.”
“Here, here,” added Lisa from her bunk.
“I’m beginning to doubt if she ever even played basketball, let alone if she can coach it,” Dani said. “She is so horrible. You know she’s as bad to us as she is to you guys on JV. Maybe worse.”
“See,” Hannah said to Avery, as if she’d been trying to convince her of the truth before Dani had arrived. “I told you.”
IN DARKNESS, DANI heard whispers.
“Shh!”
“Dani,” Avery whispered into the top bunk. “Get up. Get your shoes.”
Stumbling out of the bed, Dani rubbed her eyes until they adjusted. Avery and Hannah stood in the doorway, lit by the moonlight and waving her into the hall.
“What’s happening?” asked Dani, her voice as quiet as she could muster.
Shaking her head, as if to say they couldn’t talk, Avery tiptoed down the hall and carefully pushed the screen door at the end of the bunkhouse. It screeched open, threatening to wake everyone and blow their cover, but closed without a sound.
“We’re meeting the guys,” Avery said once they were outside, her eyes focused directly on the lake in front of them.
Hannah crossed her arms over her chest and kept looking back at bay number eight, where they were supposed to be sleeping. “We could get in trouble, Avery. It’s the first night.”
“Exactly,” she said. “They won’t expect us to sneak out on the very first night. That’s why it’s perfect.”
At that moment, Dani heard a branch snap in the woods. She imagined an officer walking out of his bunkhouse and catching them in the act, and so grabbed Avery and Hannah’s arms, pulling them to hide behind bay number six.
“Shh!” she said. “I heard something.”
And at that moment, six guys emerged from the woods. Locke Col
eman stood at the very center of the group, his gap-toothed smile shining through the darkness.
“We can see you,” Locke said, and the girls stepped out from behind the shelter.
Without warning, Avery took off jogging toward the water’s edge, followed by several of Locke’s teammates. Clothes littered the sand under a grove of trees, and Dani tried to keep her composure as she watched Locke Coleman drop his shorts and tiptoe toward the water, wearing only boxer-briefs. He offered Dani a smile, then raised his eyebrows at Avery’s pale body in the middle of the lake, as if to say, Your friend’s got balls. Dani shook her head and shrugged, as if to say, I’m not sure she’s my friend.
“I’m not getting naked in front of those guys,” Hannah said under her breath. “We’re going to get caught!”
“Come on,” Dani said without breaking a sweat. “It’ll be so fast. They’re not even looking.”
“Oh lord,” Hannah groaned. “You two better not get me kicked out of this place. My grandfather would never recover.”
OVER THE NEXT few weeks, it seemed that Avery warmed up to Dani a little bit more every day. Once, she’d even laughed out loud at one of Dani’s jokes. It was small, but to Dani it felt like progress.
Baby steps.
During the day, their company soared to the top of the pack, always crushing the other companies in physical fitness tests. Soon it was clear that Avery had made a full 180-degree turn. When Dani and Hannah struggled to learn how to disassemble and reassemble their M16s, Avery came to the rescue, teaching them every step their platoon leader had glossed over.
“Do you think it’s true?” Hannah had whispered to Dani once Avery had stepped away, leaving them with their weapons. “All those things people said last year?”
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