Page 53 of Unmade

“What if I want to specialize in the Middle East or Africa? Do I have to learn everything about their flora and fauna too?”

“The short answer is yes,” I replied. “The long answer… We go where the contracts take us, and considering the implosion of the Blanco cartel in Colombia last year, we can predict that we will spend the next few years in and out of that area. Additionally, the age of specialty zones is almost behind us. If you learn Farsi or any other language from the Middle East, of course you might end up on the short list for assignments there—in which case, you do need to learn what can kill you in the field. But there’s a reason we’re encouraging you to learn Spanish, Russian, or Mandarin.”

* * *

August 30th, 2024

What I wanted to know was why Leighton suddenly felt the need to go to a damn bar with Tanner. What happened to being careful? Even though we’d ended the lockdown, we should be mindful.

Someone logical might argue that Leighton and the other recruits weren’t facing the same threat I was. But whatever. It still irritated me. Even more so when Leighton continued opting to sit on his own here in the cafeteria—or with Alex. How about he met up with Riley and Tanner to study in the library instead? Or he had lunch with them? That was the social interaction he needed. Not to go to some fucking bar where you couldn’t hear each other over the music.

Was Leighton back on Tanner’s “list”? Were they using each other to…relieve stress?

I made a face and finished the last of my dinner.

At this hour, it was just Alex and me in here, and the kitchen was about to close.

She was busy with her coloring book and humming to herself.

“Did you and Leighton have fun today?” I asked.

She stopped coloring abruptly and narrowed her eyes at me. “I don’t know who that is.”

What—oh, for fuck’s sake. She wanted me to use his nickname.

“I’m not calling him Nugget. That’s something between you two,” I told her. It’d been a fun story the first time, how Leighton had apparently eaten “a bajillion” chicken nuggets for lunch, and Alex had gasped and pointed at him, and she’d cried out, “You’re Nugget!”

He, in turn, had nicknamed her Lemon for lemonade.

I’d rather call them Chuckles and Giggles, to be honest. That’s what they were always doing when I saw them—if they weren’t reading in disturbing silence. Sometimes you couldn’t even get through to them. As if they were focusing so hard that the outside world disappeared.

Alex huffed and returned to her coloring. “Nugget is so right. You’re cranky a lot.”

What the fuck?

I wasn’t fucking cranky.

* * *

September 1st, 2024

“Can you be a little less vague?” I asked, adjusting my earbud.

Doc chuckled on the other end. “I don’t know what else to tell you, Bo. He’s doing all right. I do still have my concerns about how closed off he can be, but I see improvements from his first session. He’s a bit more talkative, and watching Alex a couple times every day seems to do him good.”

I hummed and took the next exit. “She wants me to invite him for our aquarium day.”

Both living at Hillcroft and now homeschooling Alex there…? Even I had quickly realized I was going to need to overcompensate in the area of activities and outings. Taking her with me to the grocery store and for quick visits with my sister wasn’t enough. So, once a week, we did something special, like go to the zoo, to a museum, hit up a hiking trail, or…the most awful one. Visiting a toy store. And, next up, a trip to Baltimore’s aquarium.

“Hmm. I’m not sure that’s wise,” Doc said. “The lines are fairly blurry already.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Unfortunately. It would’ve been fun—but with Leighton having his dynamic with Alex… I had to reinforce the boundaries of his being my recruit.

“Can we discuss you now?” Doc asked. “You’ve mysteriously been sick your last two sessions.”

I nodded to myself. “It’s called the breakfast flu. I feel perfectly fine after ten or so.”

Doc didn’t miss a beat. “That sounds terrible. Let’s schedule an afternoon session, then.”

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