trying to relax. I just had to make the team.
“I’m really sorry, Gab.” Please don’t be mad at me. I had just started to believe that maybe she considered me her friend.
“WHERE’S MY MINUTE CALLER?” Some cadet’s voice boomed in the hallway. “OH, MINUTE CALLER! WHEREFORE ART THOU, MINUTE CALLER?”
Gabrielle and I froze. “That sounded like Cadet Aussprung,” I whispered, as if the cadet could actually hear me. “The hugest haze in—”
“I know who Cadet Aussprung is, Andi.” Gabrielle struggled with her shoes, hurling curses at the floor. “I can’t get these stupid things on!”
I crouched beside her. “Try untying them, Gab.”
“No, Andi! Get my brush!”
Her brush? Brushing hair at a time like this would’ve been the last thing on my mind, but I rushed back to the sink and grabbed it.
Gabrielle was standing, her shoes now on, pulling up her socks. “Come on! I can’t go out there looking like this!”
I tossed her the brush, and she yanked out her bun. Then she raked the brush through her strawberry frizz before twisting her hair back into place. Was she crazy? “Gab, just get out there! Don’t worry about how you—”
“HO! HO! HO! SOMEONE’S HEAD’S GONNA ROLL!”
“Quick!” she squeaked. “Give me a dress off!”
I sprang behind her, snatched the brush from her, and threw it on her bed so our hands would be free.
“I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead !” She pulled the waistband of her shorts away from her tailbone. “I’m going to get kicked out, Andi! I just know it.”
I grabbed the excess T-shirt fabric from her sides and folded it toward her spine. “Okay . . . now!”
She snapped her waistband back in place. “Why does my last name start with ‘B’? Yours starts with ‘D.’ That’s why you didn’t get Minute Caller. It’s not fair!”
Now she was whining. Like that helps anything. She just needs to shut up and get out there! I did some final tucking. Her T-shirt was wrinkle-free. “Done.”
She sprinted out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
I put her brush away and chewed my thumbnail, listening.
“WELL, WELL, WELL! NEW CADET BRYEN! SO GLAD YOU COULD COME TO MY PARTY. BUT, MY, MY, MY. AREN’T WE FASHIONABLY LATE THIS FINE MORNING?” Then silence followed. Silence, that is, except for the quick footsteps of new cadets pinging down the hall and the music of the “Ballad of the Green Berets” blaring over the PA system:
Silver wings upon their chests,
These are men, America’s best,
One hundred men we’ll test today,
But only three win The Green Beret.
Third Squad had to be standing against the wall in front of Cadet Daily’s room at five minutes before formation. I checked my watch. That gives me one minute, forty-three seconds. I gave myself a dress off and stared at the doorknob, waiting.
“Attention all cadets!” Gabrielle shouted, battling the Green Berets for superiority of the airwaves. Her voice sounded shaky and thin. “There are . . . six? and a butt minutes until assembly for Physical Training. The uniform is—”
I winced. Oh, Gab. That’s wrong! It’s Physical Training and Reveille Formation . Listening to Gabrielle practice last night, I had learned the lines, too.
Doors banged open up and down the hall.
“Cease work, Bonehead!”
“What? Where did Reveille go, Smack?”
“You call that minute calling? I call it a dereliction of duty, Dirtbag!”
My watch said it was time to go. I opened my door to the hostile hallway and peeked around the door frame. Gabrielle stood stiffly against the wall beneath the center clock, attracting upperclass cadets like death draws flies.
“YOU MAKE ME SICK, BRYEN!” I heard Cadet Aussprung roar behind me, feeling guilty as I pinged along the wall away from Gabrielle. “BOWING-TO-THE-PORCELAIN-GOD SICK. IF THERE’S ONE THING THAT CHAPS MY HIDE, MISS, IT’S INCOMPETENCE. AND YOU GIVE NEW MEANING TO THE WORD!”
0618
“You know, Andi, he’s really hot,”
“I’m really sorry, Gab.” Please don’t be mad at me. I had just started to believe that maybe she considered me her friend.
“WHERE’S MY MINUTE CALLER?” Some cadet’s voice boomed in the hallway. “OH, MINUTE CALLER! WHEREFORE ART THOU, MINUTE CALLER?”
Gabrielle and I froze. “That sounded like Cadet Aussprung,” I whispered, as if the cadet could actually hear me. “The hugest haze in—”
“I know who Cadet Aussprung is, Andi.” Gabrielle struggled with her shoes, hurling curses at the floor. “I can’t get these stupid things on!”
I crouched beside her. “Try untying them, Gab.”
“No, Andi! Get my brush!”
Her brush? Brushing hair at a time like this would’ve been the last thing on my mind, but I rushed back to the sink and grabbed it.
Gabrielle was standing, her shoes now on, pulling up her socks. “Come on! I can’t go out there looking like this!”
I tossed her the brush, and she yanked out her bun. Then she raked the brush through her strawberry frizz before twisting her hair back into place. Was she crazy? “Gab, just get out there! Don’t worry about how you—”
“HO! HO! HO! SOMEONE’S HEAD’S GONNA ROLL!”
“Quick!” she squeaked. “Give me a dress off!”
I sprang behind her, snatched the brush from her, and threw it on her bed so our hands would be free.
“I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead !” She pulled the waistband of her shorts away from her tailbone. “I’m going to get kicked out, Andi! I just know it.”
I grabbed the excess T-shirt fabric from her sides and folded it toward her spine. “Okay . . . now!”
She snapped her waistband back in place. “Why does my last name start with ‘B’? Yours starts with ‘D.’ That’s why you didn’t get Minute Caller. It’s not fair!”
Now she was whining. Like that helps anything. She just needs to shut up and get out there! I did some final tucking. Her T-shirt was wrinkle-free. “Done.”
She sprinted out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
I put her brush away and chewed my thumbnail, listening.
“WELL, WELL, WELL! NEW CADET BRYEN! SO GLAD YOU COULD COME TO MY PARTY. BUT, MY, MY, MY. AREN’T WE FASHIONABLY LATE THIS FINE MORNING?” Then silence followed. Silence, that is, except for the quick footsteps of new cadets pinging down the hall and the music of the “Ballad of the Green Berets” blaring over the PA system:
Silver wings upon their chests,
These are men, America’s best,
One hundred men we’ll test today,
But only three win The Green Beret.
Third Squad had to be standing against the wall in front of Cadet Daily’s room at five minutes before formation. I checked my watch. That gives me one minute, forty-three seconds. I gave myself a dress off and stared at the doorknob, waiting.
“Attention all cadets!” Gabrielle shouted, battling the Green Berets for superiority of the airwaves. Her voice sounded shaky and thin. “There are . . . six? and a butt minutes until assembly for Physical Training. The uniform is—”
I winced. Oh, Gab. That’s wrong! It’s Physical Training and Reveille Formation . Listening to Gabrielle practice last night, I had learned the lines, too.
Doors banged open up and down the hall.
“Cease work, Bonehead!”
“What? Where did Reveille go, Smack?”
“You call that minute calling? I call it a dereliction of duty, Dirtbag!”
My watch said it was time to go. I opened my door to the hostile hallway and peeked around the door frame. Gabrielle stood stiffly against the wall beneath the center clock, attracting upperclass cadets like death draws flies.
“YOU MAKE ME SICK, BRYEN!” I heard Cadet Aussprung roar behind me, feeling guilty as I pinged along the wall away from Gabrielle. “BOWING-TO-THE-PORCELAIN-GOD SICK. IF THERE’S ONE THING THAT CHAPS MY HIDE, MISS, IT’S INCOMPETENCE. AND YOU GIVE NEW MEANING TO THE WORD!”
0618
“You know, Andi, he’s really hot,”
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