Page 14 of Mariposa
Don’t answer that.
Suddenly, a bolt of pain hits my shin, and I’m face-planting into the ground again. I don’t form any words, but a pained groan slips past my throbbing lips. He tripped me with a kick to the shin.
Dick.
Although a part of me is enjoying it. He’s treating me like the other male students, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I thrive off the pain. It makes winning that much more satisfying.
“Whoops,” he whispers into my ear as he bends his knees. I can feel that signature sinister, brutal grimace he likes to wear when he’s around us, and when his cold breath whooshes against the shell of my ear, I shudder. I’m still on my stomach, and I do everything I can not to throw an elbow at his perfect face.
“Ring the bell. Go home to your family,” he snarls as his scent surrounds me. His cologne, a masculine aroma of mint mixed with cedar, wafts into my nose, almost making me hate him less.
Almost.
“Ring the bell,” he orders me again. His voice is thick with rough demands. Ringing the bell is code for quitting. He’s trying to get into my head and make me quit, but I won’t, and I love that it pisses off him and every other person who doesn’t want me to pass. All of the instructors have this plan to make all the weak-minded soldiers quit in the early stages, but it won’t work for me.
I smile and bat my lashes at him forcefully to mask my dread. He stiffens like he wasn’t expecting it. He’s dressed in an all black shirt and pants, with shades of green, brown, and obsidian camo paint blended on his perfect face like the rest of us.
“No, Master Sergeant,” I chirp simply.
I stare at him, holding his piercing gaze while waves of wrath plow into my soul. He doesn’t blink, and neither do I. Finally, after a few long seconds, he retracts himself from invading my space and walks away. I stare at his muscular back, and that’s when I notice he has a back tattoo slowly making its way to the back of his neck.
I can’t tell exactly what it is. I lie to myself and say I don’t want to find out.
There are three things I’m absolutely certain of regarding the most beastly instructor here.
One—there are no gray areas when it comes to his mentality. There’s only right or wrong. Two, he’s never truly smiled. And three, whenever he’s around me, my heart beats a little faster and harder than it should.
I passed my first phase.I have a few days open before it’s back to course. But I don’t stop training, even on my days off. Before I hit the gym for the third time today, I have to stop by the post office on base. I walk through the doors and go straight to my box number. I place my key in, turn, and pull it open. I expect an empty cabinet, but my eyes widen when I see there’s something inside.
It’s a miniature version of my grandmother’s blue bear that she keeps with her.
Did she do this?
I exhale a long breath to stop the sting in my throat from growing. It’s a piece of home, and I’ve never been so happy to see a stuffed animal before. Running my hands through the fur, I smile as I watch my once hardened gaze transform into bliss through the black beady eyes. A closed letter is tucked at the bottom of the locker.
My eyes widen at the familiar handwriting.
It’s from my grandmother.
Tearing it open with my key, I pull out the aged, yellow-tinted, worn-out paper. It’s another one of Graham’s love letters to my grandmother. Something white behind it catches my attention before I can start reading.
There’s a separate note on a different sheet of paper.
Call me so we can read this one together. I’m so proud of you, mija.
Love, Grandma
I practically run back to my barracks. As soon as I shut my door, I sit at my desk and hit the FaceTime button.
August 25, 1965
Dear Grace,
When they called my name, I was shocked. It was mail day, and I was cleaning my gun. My heart sank, and I was confused but hopeful. It couldn’t have been my parents because they both died when I was young.
I prayed to God it was from you, and He answered.
So, when I grabbed this sealed envelope and saw your name, I knew it wasn’t over.
