“Training, Mom,” Ricky said with a snort. “Obviously.”
One side of my mouth quirked at his sardonic tone. I had missed him.
“Basic training is where we learn … well, the basics,” I explained. “But advanced training is more specialized. We kinda branch off and learn the ins and outs of what our specific jobs are going to be while serving.”
She nodded, more interested than either of my parents ever would be. “And what is it you’ll be specializing in?”
“Infantry,” I answered without hesitation.
“You could get shot in battle, pour my blood out, and die a hero, ridding yourself of the burden of calling me your father, and I’d finally find a reason for not beating you out of your mother’s belly.”
Ricky narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?”
“Land combat,” I told him.
“Like … killing people with guns and shit?” he asked, lowering his spoon into his bowl of stew.
I sucked in a deep breath before nodding. “Basically. My goal is to eventually become a sniper.”
He raised his brows, looking both concerned and impressed. “Don’t you have to be a really good shot to be a sniper?”
I chuckled and turned my attention back to my stew. “Well, turns out, Iama really good shot.”
It wasn’t an exaggeration. During my training, I’d found quickly that my ability to line up with the target was nearly always spot-on. My superiors had been impressed, and on more than one occasion, they’d implied I was a strong contender for sniper school.
I liked that idea.
I liked the thought of beingimportant, of having a greater purpose than just being another body on the battlefield.
Maybe I wouldn’t have to die to make him proud.
My fist clenched at the thought as I quickly took a bite of beef and potatoes, masking my pain with hunger.
We finished dinner with casual conversation. Ricky and his mom told me how the last few months had been for them, and in exchange, I gave them a couple of tidbits from my time away. But for the most part, I smiled and nodded and injected interest where it was needed.
Mostly, I just wanted to leave and go back to a place where my presence was useful.
God, not even Grace and Lucy needed me now, and I wasn't sure how to feel about that.
***
When the table was cleared and the dishes were washed, Ricky asked if I wanted to go out.
"Where?" I asked, not feeling at all like going out, but also not wanting to disappoint my friend.
He shrugged, leaning against the kitchen doorframe as I finished drying the last plate.
"I dunno, man. Um … I could call Molly and see what she's up to. Maybe we could go to McDonald's."
I huffed and slid the plate into the cabinet. "We just ate, dude."
"No, I know, but … we could get ice cream or milkshakes or something. I don't know. Just to go out, you know? You're only back for a couple of days. Might as well do something while you're here."
I sighed and ran my hand over my cropped hair. It had taken some time to get used to the buzz cut, but I'd grown to like it. It was easy and manageable.
"Yeah," I said, nodding. "Sure, we could do that."
Ricky must've sensed my reluctance to do anything but sleep and count down the minutes until I could leave again because he dropped his gaze to the floor and shrugged, defeated.
