Authors: Jessica Mastorakos
“My ID, Social
Security Card, and cash,” I answered.
“No smokes?”
I shook my head.
“No, I quit a few months ago.”
“Man, when I was
leaving, I chain smoked like crazy right up until the last second. I even got
chewed out by my recruiter for asking if I could smoke in the car on the way.” Sergeant
Moore laughed at his memory and started walking toward the entrance. “Okay,
when you get in there, you’re
gonna
go into a room
with a bunch of other kids that are just as freaked out as you are and listen
to some guy try to motivate and scare you at the same time. They’re
gonna
ask you
again
how
many times you’ve smoked pot, so if you mess that up, you’re not going. Then
they’re
gonna
have you swear your oath again, and
you’ll all head to the airport to meet some DI’s and head out.”
“The airport?
Isn’t boot camp right here in San Diego?” I asked, confused.
“Yeah, but other
recruits are coming in from around the country and it’s just easier for you
local kids to get in line at the airport with the rest of the them. The DI’s
take you from the airport to the Depot on their busses. You ready for this?”
My head swam with
all of the information. I forced a shaky smile and gave him the thumbs up,
hoping I looked sarcastic and not terrified.
“Very convincing,”
Sergeant Moore held the door open for me to pass through. We wove through
hoards of other recruiters with their future Marines in tow and found the
reception desk in the lobby. Sergeant Moore told the clerk behind the desk that
he was checking me in, and we both signed the clipboard on the ledge. He shook
my hand.
“Okay, kid. I’ll
see you when you’re a Marine.”
***
Many chaotic and
terrifying hours later, I was beginning to understand what my dad had warned me
about. I stood in a line of recruits waiting to use the phone for my arrival
call. The DI’s were screaming from all directions. I looked to my left and
right and noted the sullen expressions on the guys beside me. By now, I was
sure we are all thinking the same thing:
What
have I gotten myself into?
I rushed forward
and white knuckled the receiver when it was my turn to use the phone. I felt
the body heat radiating off of a sweaty Drill Instructor who was yelling at the
kid on my left. I prayed that he didn’t turn his attention on me next. In a
brief moment of panic, I was afraid that I didn’t remember Ellie’s number. I
recovered quickly and dialed. She answered on the second ring.
“Spencer?”
“I have arrived
safely at Marine Corps Recruit Depot, San Diego,” I read from the script posted
on the wall in front of me. “Please do not send any food or bulky items. I will
contact you in three to five days via postcard with my new mailing address.
Thank you for your support, goodbye for now.”
Before I hung up,
I waited a beat to see if she would say anything.
“Ellie,” I
breathed into the phone without thinking. I wasn’t supposed to deviate from the
script at all. I didn’t know what I would have said to her, but I stilled when
I heard her melodic voice from the other end of the line.
“Love you, Spence.
Be safe,” she said, her voice was so quiet compared to the melee around me that
I couldn’t be sure if I’d heard her correctly or if I’d heard what I’d wanted
to hear. The DI next to me started to turn around, so I quickly disconnected
the call and took off for the line of waiting recruits.
Ellie
I walked through
the door to the ladies room and wrinkled my nose. Public bathrooms were awful,
but even worse when you had to stand in line. I peered around the women in
front of me to gauge how long I’d be subjected to the foul air. Tim and I had
just seen the latest rom-com, and I now I felt a little down. When the couple
got their happy-ever-after in the movie, I didn’t get the usual ‘warm and
fuzzies
.’ I couldn’t put my finger on it specifically, but it
struck me as very depressing to think that my real-life romance was lacking
compared to a scripted one. Even though Tim and I have been saying those three
little words for months now, our relationship seemed miles away from the love
story in the movie. I hated the thought of wishing for a love found in fiction.
Real life love should be better than fiction.
The line for an
open stall moved slowly. I inched forward and eavesdropped on the two women in
front of me. They chattered giddily about the new engagement ring decorating
the brunette’s left hand. Her friend complemented the groom’s taste, and the bride
winked conspiratorially.
“I think my mom
must have had a hand in this,” the brunette said in a hushed voice. “It’s exactly
the one I wanted.”
“Girl, please.
Give the guy some credit. Andrew knows you better than anyone! I bet he just
got it right. Seriously, that man loves you like nothing I’ve ever seen. I
secretly hate you for it.” The friend put an arm around the bride’s shoulder
and squeezed. The look on the bride’s face when she thought about what her
friend had said was so wistful that I thought she might cry. I wanted a love
like that…
***
“Long line?” Tim
asked when I finally exited the restroom. He offered me his arm and led me out
of the packed theatre.
“Very,” I
confirmed, suddenly annoyed with myself for being in such a funk. Here I was,
on a date with a really attractive and smart guy that cared about me, and I wished
I had it better. I sighed and pulled him to a halt before he could get in the
car. “Let’s go for ice cream. I’m not ready to call it a night.”
Tim smiled at me
with his pearly whites and clear green eyes. “Sounds good to me.”
I stood on my toes
and pressed my lips to his. He was a great kisser; there was no denying that. I
felt his arms come to rest on the small of my back, and I weaved my own around
his neck. Running my fingers through the short brown hair at the nape of his
neck, he gently pressed me against his car. His lips were warm and soft, his
breath mingled with mine as our lips moved together. As the heat between us
intensified, Tim pulled back.
“What?” I asked,
slightly breathless. This was one area of our relationship that didn’t need any
work.
“I was just
thinking that there’s something I’d rather do than get ice cream.”
Tim pressed his
body closer to mine so that I could feel the proof against my stomach of what
he had in mind. Understanding, I nodded.
“My parents are
out of town again. They’ll be in L.A. all weekend.” Tim’s parents owned their
own consulting business and were often out of town. I noticed his jaw clench.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed back his desire. He was obviously
letting his imagination get the best of him.
“I’ll just text my
mom and tell her I’m
gonna
be home late.”
Disentangling myself from Tim’s arms, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket.
When I turned the
screen on, I found that I already had a missed call and a text from my mother.
I opened the text first, sucking in a sharp breath when I read the words on the
screen. She’d text me to tell me that I had a letter from Spencer. My heart
immediately started beating faster, and I exhaled in what was almost a laugh.
Just knowing that there was a letter waiting for me at home felt like I could
finally breathe, even thought I hadn’t known I was holding my breath. I bit my
lip and looked up at Tim. His eyes were questioning.
“Tim… I’m sorry. I
have to go home after all.” I racked my brain for an excuse, knowing that he
would probably be a little upset if I passed up sex with him for a letter from
Spencer. I didn’t care though. Spencer had been gone for almost two weeks now
and this was the first I was hearing from him since that brief phone call.
“What happened,
Ell?”
“My mom needs me
to help her with something. It’s important,” I lied.
Tim cocked his
head and frowned. “It can’t wait until tomorrow?”
“No, I’m sorry.
Will you take me home?” Part of me was kicking myself, knowing that I would
never feel better about my relationship with Tim if I made a habit out of lying
to him. The other part, the part that missed Spencer like a phantom limb,
couldn’t get home fast enough.
***
I jumped out of
the car as soon as Tim pulled into my driveway. “Thanks, Tim! See you
tomorrow!” I called as I rounded the car. I stuck my head through his open
window and kissed his cheek. He started to reach for me, but I bounded up the
porch steps and through the door, not looking back.
My mom was sitting
on the couch reading a travel magazine when I came in. “Hey honey, how was your
date?”
“It was fine,” I
answered with a wave of my hand. “Where’s the letter?”
“On the counter,”
Mom replied with a chuckle.
I darted into the
kitchen and snatched the letter off the counter with greedy hands. I took it
outside and went to the swing set in the backyard. Spencer and I had spent
countless nights hanging out on the swings when we were younger, and it gave me
some comfort to go out there now that he was away. I swung back and forth for a
few minutes, staring at the outside of the envelope. Above the return address
the name read, ‘Recruit Hawkins.’
With shaky
fingers, I opened the letter and pulled out two separate papers, each with a
number on the outside. I unfolded the letter that was labeled with a number
‘1.’ His handwriting was almost illegible, obviously written in a hurry. I
smiled as I began to read.
Dear Ellie,
It’s Wednesday, and I haven’t slept since I
woke up Monday morning. I can honestly
say
this has been the strangest experience of my life. It’s probably five
or six at night right now and we are finally going to get some sleep in a few
hours. These other recruits were getting yelled at all day for falling asleep.
It’s so weird not being able to call you and tell you about everything. There’s
been some funny shit happening but it’s hard to remember stuff like that right
now since I haven’t slept in two days. And obviously since I’ve mentioned sleep
three times now, that’s all I’m thinking about.
Just so you know, recruits are treated like
the absolute stupidest, scummiest, filthiest beings on this planet. But I guess
if we all have to go through it in order to call ourselves Marines, I’ll do
what I have to do. Each week is called something different based on what we’re
doing, and this week is called Receiving Week, because we’re just getting here
and getting all of our shit. The real work starts on Friday, or Black Friday,
as it’s called. That’s when we meet the DI’s that will be with us for the rest
of boot camp. All right, I’m passing out as I’m writing this. I hope you’re
doing well. (And you’re not too bored without me.)
Be
back soon,
Spence
I sighed as I
folded the letter along its creases. I took a calming breath and unfolded the
next one. This letter was dated a week after the first one, which was why I
hadn’t gotten anything sooner. This one wasn’t as hastily scrawled, but was
just as short as the last one.
Dear Ellie,
I haven’t had time to write in the last
week. Receiving Week was crazy, but every day gets a little better than the
last. When we first met our DI’s, things were hectic as all
hell
. One of them reminds of Will Smith (in a
really cool way), so I just pretend I’m in a movie and this isn’t really
happening. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like reality anyway.
I don’t understand why they would issue
us recruits so much nice stuff only to have it dumped on the floor and mixed
with other people’s stuff, then shoved in our footlockers and not giving us
time to organize it for days. Then they expect us to pull it out in a second
and we don’t even know if we have it. I found my rack mate’s stuff in my
footlocker, and he found some of mine. Those are some of the mind games they
play, but they say boot camp is 90% mental crap and 10% physical.
But anyway, I don’t have much time to
finish. I’m writing this during what we call “square-away time,” and I still
have a lot of stuff to do before I go to bed. Including shaving my
face
, which I am already sick of having to deal
with every damn day. I’ll write you again when I can. Tell your family I say
hi.
Be
back soon,
Spence
I folded the second
letter and put it back in the envelope with the first. I had no idea what to
write him back. He was going through this crazy culture shock, and I had just
gotten home from a movie. I wondered if it would come off as bragging if I told
him about all of the mundane things in my life, knowing that he probably wished
he could be out doing stuff like that too.
I groaned out
loud. What was wrong with me? I was second-guessing how to talk to Spencer
–
my Spencer
– when he
had always been the one person that I didn’t have to worry about that with. Why
was I overanalyzing every little thing?
“Ellie?” Mom stood
in the doorway that led to the kitchen, squinting into the night. “What are you
doing out there?”
“Reading Spencer’s
letter. I’m not sure how to respond,” I explained to my mother, my shoulders
sagging against the chains of the swing.
“Well,” Mom began,
crossing the porch to join me on the swings, “you and Spencer have always had a
pretty easy friendship. I don’t see why things would be any different now.”
“I don’t know why,
but I feel like it
is
different
somehow. He’s off doing this great thing, and I’m here, still doing the same
things I always do.”
Mom reached for my
hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “You’re living your life and he’s living his.
You’re heading to great things too, you know. Starting your new job with your
father next month is exciting.”
“Yeah, I just wish
he wasn’t so bent on me going to law school. I’m not sure I want to do that,
but I know it means a lot to him.”
“That’s why it’s
so great that you get to work at the office with him while you decide. You can
get exposure to law and decide from there.”
I nodded. “I know.
We’ll see how it goes. I just don’t want either of you to get your hopes up.”
Mom gave my
shoulder a pat and stood from the swing. “Treat Spencer like nothing’s changed.
Talk about the things you normally would, like how annoying your parents are.
He’ll welcome some normalcy, I’m sure.”
As I watched her
start to walk away, I took a chance. “Mom?”
“Yes?” She turned
and came closer.
“Spencer said
something weird at the party before he left. That’s why I thought things might
be different between us.”
My mom tilted her
head. “What did he say?”
“That he didn’t
approve of my relationship with Tim anymore… and that he didn’t think Tim was
good enough for me.”
“Hmm. I’m sure
it’s scary for him to leave everything that’s familiar to him and sign his life
away. He cares about you a lot; I’m sure he probably just wants to make sure
you’re happy while he’s gone.”
“But what does
that have to do with him suddenly not being cool with my boyfriend?”
“Maybe he was
afraid that your friendship wouldn’t be the same after he started his life with
the Marines, so he wanted to make sure that he told you how he felt while you
two were still close.”
I shook my head.
“That won’t happen. I’m not going to let this pull us apart. He’s my best
friend.”
“Then you really
need to relax, sweetheart. Be normal with him, don’t create drama or pressure
where there doesn’t have to be any. You know Spencer’s been through a lot, he’s
protective of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I
gave her a small smile and looked away as she made her way back to the house.
My mom was right, I just needed to act normal with Spencer. But in the back of
my mind, I couldn’t help but think that there was more to our changing
friendship than I realized.
***
“Hey, how was your
night?” Tim greeted me with a kiss and proceeded into the kitchen.
“It was fine, just
helped my mom.” I knew I sounded off and felt guilty for lying to him again. I
sat on a barstool at the counter and watched him help himself to a glass of
soda and a bag of chips.
Tim brought his
snack to the couch and sat down, picking up the remote control. “Ready to watch
some football? Then maybe we can go back to my place and hang out there for a
while.”
“Sure.” I crossed
the room to sit beside him, not sure what to say next. It would be weird if I
started apologizing for the previous night again, so I settled on saying
nothing at all.
“Do you have any
salsa?” Tim asked.
“I think so, want
me to check?”
Tim shook his
head. “I got it, you find the game.”
“Thanks,” I took
the remote from him and surfed through the sports channels.
“You got a letter
from Spencer?” Tim asked from the kitchen. He was holding my letter from
Spencer.
I shrugged and continued
flipping through the guide. I hoped that he wouldn’t ask when I got it or draw
any conclusions about why I really bailed on him the night before. I found the
game we’d planned to watch and selected it, but I wasn’t really that excited
about it. I’d much rather be doing something else with my time than watching
Tim’s favorite football team play against another team that I didn’t care
about. I only liked sports when my team was playing.