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Authors: Jessica Mastorakos

BOOK: Back To You
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“So, I guess that
makes you the adopted son of the Cleavers. If they’d had one, that is.” I said,
knowing how lame I sounded.

He cocked his head
and narrowed his eyes a bit. “Adopted son, huh? Nah. I’ll stick to being the
kid from down the street. No relation.”

I swallowed, once
again at a loss for words. I watched as he chugged the rest of his beer and
hopped down from his spot on the railing. He stretched his arms over his head
and the hem of his shirt crept up to reveal about an inch of his naval. I
averted my eyes.

“Listen,” he said,
tossing the cup over his shoulder, “I hope you find your white picket fence and
stuff. I’m glad you know what you want. I’m not joining the Marines just to get
out after my first enlistment, so it’ll be nice to know that when I come back
to visit you’ll be happy and living life how you want it.”

I smiled. “Thank
you, Spence. That means a lot.”

“You might not
want to thank me yet. The last thing I was going to say was that I’m pretty
over this thing you’ve got going on with Tim.”

“Excuse me?” I
blinked, not sure I’d heard him right. He’d known Tim just as long as I had,
and we’d already been dating for over a year. Why was he speaking up about it
now?

Spencer came over
to where I sat on the swing and crouched down in front of me, hands on my
knees. “Ellie, he wants what you want on paper, but he’s not good enough for
you. In fact, I think he’s kind of a tool.”

“I don’t know what
to say.”

“You don’t have to
say anything. Just think about it. Where is he right now? This happens
everywhere we go. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I think that if your
boyfriend was really that into you, he’d be with you right now.”

“What makes you so
sure?”

“Because that’s
where I’d be if it were me.”

The intensity in
his eyes messed with my already jumbled brain. What the hell was he saying?
Before I could form a response, two cheerleaders Spencer had danced with
earlier skipped drunkenly onto the porch. I felt a fake smile reflexively
spread across my face as they glanced between us. The door was open, so the
patio filled with the music from inside. The deafening beats were a dose of
reality.

“Your fan club is
waiting,” I told him, nodding in their direction. My stomach turned slightly as
I watched him go from a laser focus on me to flirting with the girls.

“Hello, ladies!
Did you miss me?”

The duo giggled
and held out their hands for him. I rolled my eyes. Spencer rose from his
position in front of me and headed their way. He playfully swatted the shorter
one on the butt as she danced through the doorway. He followed them back into
the house and let the door slam behind him, smothering the volume of the music.

I gazed out toward
the lawn again, trying to gather myself. The last few minutes of that talk with
Spencer had really thrown me. Why would he wait so long to speak up about Tim?
And what was that part about how it would be if it were
him
?
Did he mean for that to sound so… inviting? Taking another swig of my beer, I
was grateful to find that the kid throwing up by the tree was long gone. I
didn’t need that to add to the sick feeling I had. The hinges of the screen
creaked open, revealing Spencer’s head through the crack in the door.

“Hey…”

I threw a smile on
my face to hide the turmoil I felt. “Yes?”

“Stop being a baby
and have fun. You know I always come back to you.”

He let the door
close again and disappeared into the house. I stared at the space where his
face had just been, wondering if he was talking about leaving with the girls
just now, or the three months that he’d be in boot camp. Maybe he was referring
to what he said about coming home to visit over the course of his career.
Whatever he meant, my smile turned genuine that time. Maybe I should just go
ask him what he meant. I drained the last of my beer and started to rise from
the swing. It was now or never, right?

“Well, you two
sure looked cozy…”

I rolled my eyes
and sunk back onto the swing. Apparently, I was doomed to hear a lecture on
Freud instead. “Hi, Tim.”

 

Chapter Two

Spencer

 

I rolled over and
felt in the dark for my phone. My fingers moved frantically over the screen to
silence the obnoxious ringing of my alarm before it woke my dad in the next
room. Through the haze of waking, I realized what day it was. It was Monday,
and I was about to leave for boot camp. I lay in my bed wide-awake, staring at
the ceiling. I hadn’t expected to feel so nervous. How had I been so calm and confident
yesterday, only to wake up this morning feeling like I was on death row?

Eventually, I
rolled out of bed and adjusted my boxer briefs. I’d left my window open
overnight and the breeze felt nice on my slightly damp skin. Why was I
sweating? Was I really that nervous?

I tiptoed to the
bathroom. It was just past three in the morning and the world was still quiet.
I knew my father had to be up in a few hours to go to work, so I doubted he
would get up early to see me off. Just as well, since my interactions with him
were rarely anything but awkward anyway. I stared at my reflection in the
mirror, noticing the hard expression in my eyes.

I remembered the
day when I told my dad that I wanted to join the Corps. I was twelve, and I had
just watched some movie at school that had Marines raising the flag over Iwo
Jima. I remembered telling all of my classmates that my dad was a Marine like
those guys and that I was going to be one someday, too. I had rushed home from
school that day and told my parents my plan. They both seemed so proud of me.
Maybe my mom was looking down on me and was still that proud. Hopefully she
didn’t hold my dating habits against me, though. As for my dad, I wouldn’t know
if he was proud of me or not. We barely spoke anymore. Part of him died with my
mom, and our relationship hadn’t been the same ever since.

I shook my head
abruptly, vowing in that moment to put the past behind me. These were exactly
the kind of thoughts that would distract me from success in boot camp. I needed
to focus on what would be, not what had been.

I’d been
practicing the art of speed showering for a few months now. In record time, I’d
washed my body and what was left of my hair. Shaving fast was also required in
boot camp, so I’d taught myself to do that too. There was a lot of bloodshed
until I’d mastered that particular skill. Now I was a pro.

On my desk chair,
there were a dark grey button up shirt, black slacks, and dress shoes. My
recruiter had once said that Marines always looked sharp, and that was
something I could get behind. Scrutinizing my reflection in the long mirror on
the back of my bedroom door, I realized that it was the same outfit that I had
worn the day I raised my right hand and swore an oath to God and country and
signed over my life to the United States government. In a matter of hours, I
would be boxing up these clothes and replacing them with whatever I was issued.

With nothing left
to do to get ready, I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and opened my text
messages. I went to the folder of conversations between Ellie and me, and
paused with my thumb hovering over the on-screen keyboard. There were so many
things that I wanted to say to her, but I closed my eyes to block them out. What
could I possibly say without coming off as a total creeper? After my
alcohol-induced confession about my thoughts on her relationship with Tim, I
felt dumb enough already. On the one hand, she seemed totally pissed about me
butting into her relationship. On the other hand, there was chemistry between
us that was hard to miss. Fuck it. She had probably already forgotten about it.
Why make it awkward now?

I settled on a
simple text. “Be back soon.”

I quickly powered
off the phone and threw it in the top drawer of my nightstand, not wanting to
wait for Ellie’s reply. She was probably still sleeping anyway, but I didn’t
want to take the chance of seeing something that would only make leaving
harder.

In the kitchen, I
checked the time. It would still be thirty minutes before my recruiter,
Sergeant Moore, would be there to pick me up. I grabbed a bagel out of the bag
by the fridge and popped it into the toaster. I leaned against the counter and
crossed my arms over my chest, settling in to wait for my breakfast to be done.
I grew restless within seconds and began pacing the kitchen. I scrubbed my
hands roughly over my clean-shaven face and freshly buzzed head.

There was a
picture on the fridge of Ellie and me at graduation. I’d put it there because
it seemed like the right place for it. Isn’t that where parents displayed the
accomplishments of their children? I stared at smiling face of my best friend.
I had my arm around her shoulder and she was leaning into me, her body fit to
mine like a puzzle piece. The fact that I’d be spending the foreseeable future
without her was starting to sink in, and I didn’t like how it felt. I shook my
head and turned my back on the photo.

We were friends.
It wasn’t a big deal that I knew how much I would miss her. It made sense that
the closest person in my life was the only person I was thinking about when I
was getting ready to leave. It didn’t mean anything. She had been my best
friend for the better part of the last damn decade, but I had this nagging
feeling in my stomach that things were changing between us. I sighed heavily,
knowing that anything more than friendship with Ellie wasn’t a good thing for
either of us. Regardless, the way she’d looked the other night in that dress
was frozen in my mind.

“Were you going to
wake me up or just leave?” Dad’s gravelly voice from behind me made me jump.

“Just leave,” I
answered bluntly, cursing myself for showing how anxious I was feeling. I heard
the note of challenge in my own voice as I stared down my father. He had barely
bothered to talk to me lately, and now he was acting like he cared if he slept
through my exit. I tried for a casual expression, resuming my previous
position. “Didn’t think you’d mind.”

Mike grumbled
incoherently and tightened the belt on his robe. He crossed his arms and leaned
against the counter opposite me. Something in his face changed as he looked at
me, and I watched as he uncrossed his arms with a self-conscious expression. Apparently
he wasn’t big on displaying any similarities with me.

“You hungry?” He
asked me.

“I’m making a
bagel.” As if on cue, the toaster popped. I turned to put it on a plate and
went to the fridge to get some butter. I ducked my head into the cool air, and
came back up frowning. “No butter?”

“Try cream
cheese,” my dad suggested.

I glanced around
in the fridge again, coming up empty once more. I went to the pantry and found
a jar of peanut butter. I guessed that it was probably a good thing to get some
protein in my system anyway, since it might be a while before I got to eat
again. I set to work spreading the peanut butter over the halves of my bagel. I
never took my eyes off my meal, but I was fully aware that my dad was still
standing at the counter watching my every move. I refused to be the one to
break the silence.

After putting a
huge helping of peanut butter on my bagel, I held the plate in my hand and
leaned against the counter once more to eat. We weren’t really a
‘sit-down-like-civilized-people’ kind of family anymore. That was just another
thing Dad stopped caring about after Mom died.

“So, I bet you’re
gonna
miss Ellie,” Mike said,
obviously grasping for straws to get me to open up to him. “She
gonna
write you?”

“Probably, are
you?” I replied, biting into my bagel.

My dad nodded.
“Yeah, sure, kid.”

“I’ll write you
first, so you have the address. It’ll probably take a couple of weeks though. I
heard it’s pretty crazy when you first get there.”

“It is. Receiving
Week is probably the worst part. They put on a big show to culture shock the
shit out of you, but it gets better with every day. I know it’s changed since I
was there, but that part’s still true, I’m sure of it.”

“Thanks.” I
nodded, swallowing a mouthful of bagel. I hadn’t expected him to actually say
anything worth knowing. It was a shame that we didn’t have a better
relationship or I would have been able to ask him about everything else I
wanted to know.

Mike pushed up
from the counter and crossed the kitchen to where I was standing. He extended
his hand for me to shake. “Good luck, son.”

I hesitated for a
brief moment, and then shook my father’s hand. The fact that I instinctively
wanted to go in for a hug shocked the shit out of me probably more than
Receiving Week will. I hadn’t felt any kind of affection for my dad in a few
years. I thought maybe that was a clear sign of my nervousness. The lump in my
throat came out of nowhere as I looked at the man in front of me. When my dad
had left for boot camp many years ago, it wasn’t by choice. Those were the days
when you had a choice between jail and military service if you got in trouble,
and he had chosen the second door. He wound up making a career out of the
Marines just like I planned to, but since he’d been in the system since he was
a little kid he hadn’t had anyone to wish him luck the day he left.

“All right, then,”
Mike said, awkwardly. He nodded once more, and then retreated.

My bagel suddenly
tasted dry in my mouth, the lump in my throat tightening further as I watched
my father round the corner and leave me standing alone in the kitchen. I threw
the bagel in the trash, not able to stomach another bite. I took a seat at one
of the four chairs around our kitchen table and waited alone for Sergeant
Moore.

***

Sergeant Moore’s
excited demeanor was infectious as he drove me down to the processing center
downtown. I had always liked my recruiter for his laid-back attitude and great
sense of humor. There were several recruiters in the office where Sergeant
Moore worked, and I felt pretty damn lucky that I hadn’t been recruited by any
of them. I didn’t need much selling though, since I’d already made my mind up
about joining long before I stepped into their office at the mall. I figured
that I should probably choose the guy who resembled a used care salesman the
least, so Sergeant Moore was my guy.

“I wish they would
let me drive you guys around in the Charger,” he said with a shake of his head.
He weaved in and out of traffic in his ‘government car,’ the Chevy Malibu that
he drove whenever he had work-related errands to run. “This car is for
bitches.”

“What, powder blue
isn’t your color?” I jabbed, laughing.

“No, and thank you
for proving my point. Plus, it has this pesky little MPH blocker that knocks
you down if you try to go more than sixty-five.”

“That’s some
bullshit. But I can’t really complain, I don’t even have a car.”

Sergeant Moore
smirked. “Yeah, just do me a favor talk to me before you let some idiot
salesman sell you a brand new car with ‘great military rates.’ I’m so sick of
seeing young Marines making stupid fucking decisions.”

I chuckled at his
passion for the topic. “Will do, Sergeant. I probably won’t need a car for a
while, though.”

“That won’t stop
you from being dumb and buying one anyway.”

I laughed and
looked out the window. I was grateful for Sergeant Moore’s shit talking. It
kept me from think about my dad. Or Ellie. I wondered if my text had woken her
up this morning and if she’d replied. I clenched my fist in my lap and tried to
stop that ‘crazy-train’ of thought before it went off the rails. I couldn’t
help it though. The closer I got to leaving the more I thought about what
– or
who
– I was leaving
behind.

Ellie had been
there for me when my mom was sick, and stuck by me through the worst parts of
my life when she finally passed. I understood why she wanted stability so
badly, because she was
my
stability.
I knew that no matter where I went or what I did, I would always be able to go
back to her. I had never tried to sleep with her because I knew it would ruin
what we had. I had always considered her to be more like family than anything
else, especially since her parents practically adopted me when they saw the shitty
job my dad was doing.

I chewed it over
in my mind. I knew it made sense that I loved her, but I didn’t want to even
consider what
kind
of love it was
turning out to be. That was just another distraction that I didn’t need for the
next three months.

“Take off that
undershirt.”

I jolted, not sure
if I had missed part of the conversation while I was thinking about that other
nonsense. “What?”

“I said, take off
the undershirt,” Sergeant Moore repeated. “The DI’s are
gonna
be screaming at everyone to make sure they only have one shirt on before they
get on the bus. You might as well ditch it now so you don’t have to do it
then.”

I narrowed my eyes
at him slightly, but did as I was told. “That’s really weird. Why would they
care if I have an undershirt on?”

“I don’t remember,
and I never cared to ask. You should get out of the habit of asking ‘why’ now,
too. You’ll get yourself slayed for that shit.”

“Oh, thanks.”

He chuckled. “I
try to prepare all of my guys as best as I can. If you work your ass off, maybe
you’ll get Honor Recruit. That looks great on me, so you should do that.”

I wrinkled my brow
and wished that I had used more of the car ride to ask questions instead of
think about Ellie and things that could never be. I saw the building looming
ahead and knew I was out of time for that. Sergeant Moore pulled into the lot
and found a spot in the back. We got out of the car and I checked my pockets to
make sure I had everything I needed.

“What’d you
bring?” Sergeant Moore moved around the car to stand beside me.

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