Chapter Ten
Grace
When I got to the apartment, Lana greeted me. She was alone.
“How was Josh?”
“Good. He didn’t get hurt much in the game, and I got some cool photos. I think they want to frame one in the locker room.” I went into the bedroom and dropped my backpack on the bed. “By the way, thanks for calling Josh and ratting me out.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, completely unrepentant. She came in and helped carry my toiletries into the bathroom. “What’d he have to say?”
“He lectured me for all of two minutes and then the idea of his sister having sex turned his stomach, and we dropped the subject.”
“I can’t count on Josh for any help in this, can I?” Lana complained, but amusement was lurking in her voice.
“Nope,” I placed the now-empty bag into my closet, tossed the dirty clothes into my hamper, and went to stretch out on the bed next to where Lana had planted herself.
“Your desensitization plan didn’t work,” I told her and braced myself for a lecture on foolishness.
“I’m not surprised,” Lana sighed with resignation.
I turned to look at her. “What? No ‘don’t do this self destructive thing?”‘
“I don’t think anyone could withstand a guy like Noah,” Lana admitted. “And his steadiness says something about him. Like he’s really sorry, and he’s serious about winning you back. That’s pretty awesome.”
“I’m scared,” I told her quietly, almost afraid to say it, as if speaking it out loud gave my fear power.
“That’s normal,” Lana smiled wryly. “I’d be scared too.”
I lay back against my pillows and thought of Noah lying next to me on the bed. What scared me was that I wasn’t going to be enough for Noah. My limited bedroom experience was bound to show. Maybe we could start off slow and work up to actual sex. We hadn’t even kissed yet. I thought of the roughness of his slightly chapped lips against my fingers and suddenly felt very heated. Overly heated.
“God, it’s so hot in here. Do you have the air on?” I asked Lana.
“65 degrees,” Lana said, “but I don’t think it’s working.”
“Nope, not working,” I said. Lana had a light sheen on her forehead from the heat. I’m sure I didn’t look much better.
“What do you plan to do this afternoon?” she asked.
“I’m supposed to call Noah, but I’m wiped out. I think I drank too much last night. I need a nap.” I ran my hand over my forehead. I could feel a headache coming on, part hangover and part heat-induced.
“I’m going to the house,” Lana said, and she got up to escape to her presumably well air-conditioned sorority house.
I drifted off to sleep but woke what seemed like minutes later when the phone rang.
“Did you forget something?” I thought it might be Lana.
There was a pause and then a familiar low voice came on the line. “Missed you last night.”
Noah.
“What’re you doing right now?” he asked.
“Right now? I’m lying on my bed in an apartment where the laws of physics apparently demand that heat rises,” I complained.
“Heat and cold displace each other, actually. The cold sinks and the hot air rises, one molecule at a time.”
“I thought you were a finance major. Whatever, I feel like I’m in an uncooled attic. I don’t think the air conditioner they installed is powerful enough.”
“What if I told you I could solve your problem of being hot and miserable?” Noah cajoled.
“I didn’t say I was miserable.”
“I used my great deductive reasoning skills,” he said dryly.
“Fine. If you can solve my problem of being hot and miserable, I’ll give you—” I said, breaking off before I could blurt out something suggestive. I hurried to add, “I’ll bake you brownies.”
“Great, it’s a deal. I’ll collect you in twenty minutes, and you can deliver the payment after we make you cool and happy.” He didn’t mention if he’d have liked something else.
“Where are we going?” I asked, curiosity chasing away my headache.
“It’ll be a surprise, but get your swimsuit and a change of clothing,” Noah instructed and then hung up.
The idea of a swim sounded great.
Noah knocked on the door at fifteen minutes instead of twenty, but I was ready. Not much preparation was really necessary for swimming. I pulled on my swimsuit and a terry cloth cover-up . A towel and a change of clothing went in a bag with some sunscreen, and I was waiting by the door when he knocked.
“Where are we going?” I asked when we got to his truck.
“Surprise,” Noah said, helping me up into the cab.
He drove west of campus in the direction of two of the city malls.
“Are we going shopping?” I asked Noah, worried that I wasn’t quite dressed for the occasion. “Because I’m wearing a cover up and flip-flops.”
He glanced over at me and said, “You’re perfect.”
For some reason this caused me to blush, and I tried to disguise my response with another question. He didn’t really think I was perfect. It was just a saying. “What’s our destination?”
“Casa de Hombre.”
“The Man House?” I translated with some amusement.
“Yup.”
“You have a pool at your house?” And I thought I lived in swanky college digs.
“Finn’s dad is in construction. He was building this house at the Woodlands.” Noah said it like I should know about it, but I didn’t.
“Never heard of it,” I admitted.
“The Woodlands is a gated community. Very rich. The guy who contracted for the house lost his shirt during the downturn, and his financing fell through. Finn convinced his dad to let him finish the house and buy it. We all contribute to the mortgage, and when we sell it we’ll split the equity,” he explained.
“Sounds all too grown up for me,” I said. I couldn’t wait to see where Noah lived. This was personal and intimate stuff, and I could barely sit still with my excitement.
Noah stopped at the gatehouse in front of a two lane street and pressed a button on a remote. The gate opened, and he waved at the attendant.
The Woodlands was aptly named. A variety of trees, none of which I could identify, hung over the streets and filled the yards of the houses that dotted the landscape. Each home looked like a private oasis of forest and green grass.
“It’s really nice back here. You have parties? Don’t your neighbors kick up a fuss?” This area looked too sedate to tolerate a bunch of college or near-college aged kids.
“We invite them or pay them off. You’d be surprised how many people won’t call the police if you give them a little money. Plus, other than the occasional party, we’re pretty good neighbors. We mow our grass and don’t keep the trashcans on the drive for too long.”
He pulled into a wide driveway that dipped down and ended in front of a large two-story house that looked primarily made of glass with a few wood beams to hold it up. The end of the drive separated the main house from another smaller structure that looked like a detached garage.
I shook my head. “I guess I understand why there are so many of you living together.”
“Yeah, it’s a pretty sweet setup,” Noah replied with pride.
We walked in the side door. Noah said, “I think Adam is practicing in his studio.” He pointed to the detached building across from the house. “Finn and Mal are watching football. The pool is empty and the games are bad.”
He led me through the kitchen and out the back door onto the patio.
“Tell me the truth. Finn whacked the buyer so he could get this house.” I couldn’t believe my eyes. The place was gorgeous. We stopped before the pool, which was laid out in a classic mosaic pattern with an infinity edge. The drop-off made the most of the forested woods behind the house.
“It’s possible. You’ve met Finn. He’s totally got that serial killer vibe,” Noah joked. Finn looked like a mischievous choirboy, innocent but with a lot of knowledge in his eyes. He probably got away with a million naughty deeds.
“It’s obvious from the start what with his illicit coffee cup in the library and his predilection for architectural design magazines. Classic signs of perversion,” I snickered.
The pool was spectacular. It had jets in the concrete on one side that arced into the pool. Attached to the shallow end of the pool was a raised, tiled round area that looked like a Jacuzzi. The pool itself was rectangular, with one end framed by a sizeable pool house. A covered deck area contained a brick oven that looked to be in disarray.
Noah led me around the scattered bricks. “Finn and Mal are building an outdoor grill, but it’s a project that has taken them all summer to get this point.”
It looked like a mess, as if someone had taken a sledgehammer to a brick wall. If this was the process of reconstruction, I worried about the houses that Finn flipped.
The pool area was empty and quiet. A large fence and barrier of trees on either side of the property shielded us from the neighbors.
“Just drop your stuff on a lounger. You can change in the pool house,” Noah directed.
“I’ve got my suit on already,” I told him. “I thought you were against water.” I had once asked Noah what his greatest fear was, after sharing that mine was spiders. He had told me it was water, but that the Marines worked that out of him.
“I overcame that fear, remember.”
He took off his shirt and jumped into the deep end. When he surfaced, he gestured for me to join him. It felt like a thousand degrees, and I was eager to cool off. I dropped my bag on the lounger, disposed of my cover up, and jumped in right next to Noah. It wasn’t the most elegant of jumps, but I didn’t care. I wanted to have fun today.
Noah and I played catch with a Nerf football and challenged each other to see who could make the biggest splash. Apparently the games inside were so bad that Finn, the serial killer, came out and challenged Noah to a race. I played the flag girl, which meant I sat at the end of the pool and yelled go and then lied about who won. Noah won every time, but I said Finn did.
After the very exhausting effort of watching two fine male specimens swim, I decided to go lie on one of the loungers. It was, I decided, one of the better afternoons of my life.
Later, Mal came out and fired up the grill that apparently worked amidst all the rubble. Adam emerged from whatever part of the house he had hidden in, and we all enjoyed steaks and beer. Bo was conspicuously absent, but I refused to let that dampen my enjoyment. Noah and I made a grocery run for s’mores fixings. I was nearly comatose after all the food.
“Can you just wheel me home and dump me on the porch? I’ll sleep there. It’ll be cooler, and I won’t have to walk up stairs,” I asked Noah, who sat next to me on an outdoor loveseat. I wanted to just pull up my feet and lay my head in his lap. I wanted to stay on this love seat replete from chocolate and marshmallows and the heat of his large body next to mine.
“You can’t expect me to drive you home,” Noah protested. “I’m at least four s’mores over the driving limit.”
I made a halfhearted slap at him and reminded him that of all of us, he ate the least and had only one s’more. “I’d hit you harder, but I’m going into a sugar coma and am losing control of my limbs.” Inwardly I was hugging myself. Noah wanted me to stay. Any nervousness I had before had been eroded by the sun, swimming, food, and company.
“We’d better get you to a safe place before that happens,” Noah said, standing up. Then he bent over and picked me up in his arms. “Get the door, Finn.”
“Yessir,” Finn slurred. He’d had many beers with his s’mores. He claimed he hated chocolate and was only able to eat it with copious amounts of alcohol. I wasn’t sure if he was serious.
“I was only kidding about the carrying business,” I said to Noah’s chest.
“You’re my guest. I don’t want you getting injured. I’m not sure we’re current on our homeowner’s insurance,” Noah joked. I could feel the rumble of his voice through his chest. If I had eaten or drunk less, I’d have protested more, but right now I felt too satiated and happy to argue. If he wanted to carry me out to his truck, I was okay with that. Only he didn’t proceed out the kitchen to the driveway. Instead, he started up the stairs.
“Are you trying to work off your s’more?” I asked.
“Nope, I’m putting you to bed.”
I started to struggle weakly. “I can’t stay here.” My protests were half-hearted, though, and Noah merely ignored them.
He carried me down the hall like I weighed no more than a marshmallow and took me into a room on the right. The room was dark and the walls seemed to be painted gray or white. I couldn’t tell in the dimness.
A large bed was positioned between two windows. Noah walked straight to the bed and laid me down on top of the gray striped comforter. He went over to a dresser and pulled out a T-shirt that had the letters USMC. “You can sleep in this,” he said, tossing the shirt to me.
I took the shirt and held it up to my face. It was cool and smelled clean. I wished it was the shirt Noah was wearing so I could be wrapped up in his scent and surrounded by the warmth of his body.
When I didn’t move, Noah said, “Should I help you? You mentioned something about non-functioning limbs.”
The offer was a joke, but an invitation lurked underneath. I wasn’t ready for that yet. “No, I think I can manage but, um, are you sure I can’t just call a cab?”
“Cab service is shit out here, and I don’t want you to leave,” Noah replied firmly.
I went to the bathroom and put on the borrowed shirt. Noah had also lent me a pair of cotton boxers that were too large in the waist. I rolled the waistband down twice so it settled on my hips, the extra fabric from the turns ensuring the boxers wouldn’t fall off. Noah definitely passed the“ not fitting into my jeans” rule.
He stood next to the bed holding the covers up for me. I exited the bathroom and slipped under them. If I were braver, with more experience, I’d have reached for him. He’d press his body into mine, and I’d run my hands over his broad back. I’d map the dips and peaks of his ridged chest, the one I’d stared at all day in the pool.
I was restless and unsatisfied, wanting something I knew only Noah could give me. My open expression was easy for him to read. Noah sank down on the edge of the bed and put one arm across my body. His head dipped low, and I saw his eyes darken. His descent was slow and measured, telegraphing that I could stop him at any time.
I must’ve known the day would lead to this, even if I hadn’t acknowledged it consciously. I placed a tentative hand on both of his forearms, braced at my sides. I felt him shudder and for a moment, I was filled with a strange sense of power. I could make him shudder for me.
I slid my hands up his arms and around his shoulders, enjoying the feel of hot flesh over hard muscle. My fingers laced around his neck. The first touch of his lips against mine was soft, almost like whispers of a kiss. His touch wasn’t tentative so much as patient. If we went any further, he was saying, it would be at my urging.
So I lifted up and pressed into him, using his body as leverage for mine. And that was enough. His arms swept around my body, lifting me flush against him. His hand came up into my hair and cradled my head against the now hard onslaught of his lips and then his tongue. I felt like he was a marauder, invading my mouth and my senses.
His other hand was braced around my ribs just under my breast. I felt my nipples tighten in anticipation of his touch. But when I thought he would move his hand, perhaps caress my breast, he stopped. He pulled his mouth away and rested his forehead against mine. We were both out of breath, but Noah was panting like he had run ten miles with his heavy rucksack.
His hand tightened in my hair and then let go. He ran his fingers over the strands, smoothing them down. I stared at him, trying to read his intentions, his thoughts, to divine the meaning of it all.
“I didn’t bring you here today for this,” he said finally. His thumbs were tracing patterns on my face, and it was hard to think or form coherent responses. I just wanted to lie down and draw him next to me. Do my own exploration.
But the separation of his lips from mine brought me a moment of clarity. Taking this path with Noah would make me far more vulnerable than I’d ever been. And suddenly the memory of the ache I had felt upon his rejection was piercing. The warm glow that had been fostered through out the day and the tender night was snuffed out by the chill of that memory.
“Don’t close up on me now, Grace,” Noah said. He held my face and leaned down to kiss me again, but I drew back.
“Maybe this is a mistake.”
“No, it’s not.” He sounded firm and convinced.
I took a deep breath. I was going to roll over and show my soft underbelly, but it shouldn’t be any surprise to him. He had to know he could hurt me. I hadn’t ever had a real relationship before, and I didn’t know all the rules and moves to make. I’d never been good at games, and I hated uncertainty even more.
“I thought I did know you, Noah, but I don’t. You show up here at Central without a word. You ignore me for two years and then you’re everywhere.” I waved a hand between us. “You even decide when we start kissing and when we stop.”
He began to open his mouth, but I interrupted, “If you really want something to work out between us, I’m going to need the whole story.”
He nodded and took a deep breath. “I think I was less nervous the first time I was deployed.” He waited for me to smile at this confession, but it was too serious to me for jokes. “There are thousands of colleges I could’ve gone to, Grace, but I came here because it had you.”
“What about two years ago?” I asked, my voice breaking slightly, and I turned away as I could feel my throat close up and the tears begin to form behind my eyes.
Noah sat up and leaned his forearms again his knees. His body was angled away from me, and I couldn’t see his face, only his profile. The skin seemed drawn tighter than usual against his jaw. “I went into the Marines when I was seventeen. I hadn’t ever lived a normal civilian life on my own. When I got out, I found out I had to apply for school, find an apartment, get a job. All the skills I had been taught as a Marine didn’t help in the civilian world.” He took a deep breath, and I wanted to hug him then and tell him he didn’t need to say another word. But he looked so tense I was afraid one touch would shatter him. I remained quiet and motionless, and he continued.
“I flew to Chicago and rented a car. I was going to surprise you, but when I drove up the North Shore to your home…” His voice trailed off. “Grace, you live behind a gate and the drive was so f*cking long I couldn’t even see your house.”
I didn’t understand what my Uncle’s house had to do with anything so I stayed silent. This obviously frustrated Noah because he drew one hand through his hair, hair that I now knew was soft as my aunt’s mink coat.
“What?” I protested.
“You don’t even see how different that is. I grew up very poor. Maybe you got that from my letters and maybe you didn’t. But I was some grunt from the Marines and while I had saved money, it wasn’t anything like that. I couldn’t afford to buy you a house like that.”
“I don’t want a house like that.” The house itself wasn’t so bad, but the constant tension of watching your mother move around like a ghost and your aunt run down your best friend until she was afraid to eat was intolerable. I didn’t want to live in a house like that, ever.
“But you live a life completely different than mine,” Noah said. “Do you even know how much it costs to go to college here for one year?”
I didn’t know. I mean, I knew it was expensive, but Uncle Louis paid for my tuition and my apartment. And I was finally seeing where Noah was going with this.
“Ah, the light dawns,” he said, with a frustrated undertone. He had tilted his head so he could see me.
“So you didn’t want to meet me because you thought I was a snob?” I asked, frustrated myself.
“Okay, I was wrong. The light isn’t dawning. You’re just going down the wrong tunnel,” he sounded angry and a little bitter.
“You insulting me isn’t going to make me understand better.”
He threw up both hands in a defensive position. “I just wanted to meet you on equal terms so you didn’t feel sorry for me.”
“I never felt sorry for you! I always thought you were amazing and brave and—” I cast around for another word but failed. “Amazing.”
“I just needed some time,” Noah said, sounding resigned and tired.
“So here you are, all fixed up and feeling ‘equal,’ and I’m supposed to just be ready for you?” Our two years of separation was because he felt he wasn’t good enough? I wanted to cry at the injustice.
“No, you’ve always been perfect,” Noah protested.
“Well, I’m not. You have all these plans and goals, and I can’t even decide on a major.” I gestured toward his books on the desk.
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“Your money or lack of it doesn’t matter to me,” I assured him.
“It should,” Noah’s face took on a grim cast. “My mom died because we didn’t have enough money.”
“You don’t know that Noah. You don’t know if she would’ve survived if she had better medical care. No one knows that for sure. You should’ve written me. Or met me and told me. I’d have waited or gone to college in San Diego,” I pointed out.
“Yes, well, none of those things really occurred to me back then. I told you I was screwed up.”
We were both breathing heavily as if we had engaged in a physical fight instead of just throwing a bunch of words back and forth. Noah blew out his breath and leaned toward me, one arm crossed over my body.
“I was tired of the war, the dust, the desert. Being back in San Diego as a civilian was weird. I missed the adrenaline high of always being alert. I started fighting in a gym and then working and taking classes, and when I was super busy, I felt more normal. The relaxation bit was difficult.” He paused and swallowed hard. “I, ah, had to talk to someone for a little while to try to get my head screwed on straight.”
I hadn’t really thought of this. Noah always seemed perfectly together in his letters, often making jokes. Even now he presented himself as this supremely confident male. I wanted to kick myself for being so self-absorbed and not truly understanding how difficult the transition from enlisted Marine to casual civilian must be for him.
“Grace, I want to be with you. I think you want to be with me. Can’t we put it all behind us and start new?” he pleaded softly.
I looked into his face, and I thought about the Noah I knew from his letters. He was funny, generous, and kind. I had fallen in love with him once, and I was halfway there now. I just didn’t know if he’d hurt me again.
“You make me nervous,” I confessed.
“A good nervous?”
“I’m not certain. I feel like,” I sat up, wanting him to understand me. “I’m not seeking any compliments here, but I feel like you’re out of my league.”
Noah laughed a little like I was joking.
“No, really, I mean it,” I said.
He re-arranged his face into a suitably serious expression, all hints of laughter erased. “What do you mean?”
“Noah, you’ve got it together. You’ve a plan. You’re headed somewhere, and I’m not. I can barely figure out what I’m doing tomorrow, let alone next year. You should be with someone like Lana.” I pushed my hands together, threading my fingers. “You fit.”
“What kind of bullshit is that?” he said angrily.
“It isn’t bullshit. It’s the natural rule of the universe that like attracts like.”
“There are many things wrong with your theory, Grace. It’s a good thing that you don’t plan on being a scientist. Who cares that you don’t have a major? What about magnetic poles drawing each other together? Where in the laws of crazy Grace universe does that actual scientific fact fall?”
I decided that Noah couldn’t actually hear me, so I laid it out for him. “I’m afraid that I’ll fall hard for you and that you’ll hurt me again. My insecurity would end up driving you nuts and embarrass me.” I looked down at my hands that were now clenched together. “While I may not know what I want to be, I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be that girl.”
“Is your insecurity going to play itself out by you trying out other guys to make me jealous?” he demanded.
“What? No! I’m sure my issues would be more with the clinging and stalking. Maybe overtexting.”
Noah laid his hand over my clenched fingers. “Why don’t we try it out and see if I get fed up with that.”
“And then what?”
“Grace,” he brought his hand up behind my head and slid closer to me, forcing me to look at him. “You worry too much,” he observed. “You don’t have to have the answer for everything right now and today.”
“I hate uncertainty,” I whispered.
“I can tell,” he smiled softly. “Here’s what I know. I want to be with you tonight, tomorrow, and for the foreseeable future. Nothing you’ve said tonight scares me.”
“You should be scared. Didn’t you guys watch Fatal Attraction, or are you too young for that?”
“Every guy watches Fatal Attraction by the age of sixteen. There’s nudity in it.”
I hadn’t realized that Noah had been drawing me closer until I was cuddled up next to his chest. He feathered kisses along my temple and down my cheek. “Will you give me a try?”
“What about the laws of the universe?” I mumbled into the side of his shirt.
“Let’s pretend we’re magnets. Those fit pretty tightly according to the laws of the universe.”
“Don’t talk that upperclassman speech with me,” I joked.
“Feel free to text me all day. Include pictures and videos if you like,” Noah invited.
He leaned down and pressed a warm kiss against my lips. It may have been a goodnight kiss, but it felt more like a welcome. When his tongue swept lightly across my lips, I couldn’t help but part them in an invitation for more. When his tongue crept into my mouth, I greeted it with my own. My hands reached up to stroke the strands of his hair and mold them against the shape of his beautiful head.
His arms were braced on either side of my head, holding his body just slightly away from mine, and I could feel their tension vibrate next to me. I stroked my hands down the sides of his arms and felt the flex of muscle under my palm. No other part of his body touched mine, just open mouth kisses where he explored and tasted me like I was more delicious than a chocolate soufflé with homemade whipped cream.
He broke away from my mouth and trailed his lips across my jaw and down the side of my neck. The whispered breath, the scratch of his slight stubble, and the wetness of his tongue set my body’s nerves on end. I felt super sensitized, as if I could even feel the dust motes that drifted through the air. As his head drifted downward to nuzzle the expanse of skin above the collar of my T-shirt, my fingers delved into his hair once again. One arm braced at my side and his other moved downward. His hand stroked the skin on my leg, sweeping from the bottom of his borrowed boxers to my knee and up, just below my chest.
I wanted to rub against his touch like a cat, arching into his every stroke. I wanted him to touch me everywhere, and I moved restlessly, trying to position different unattended parts under his sweeping hand. But his movements stilled, and he rested his forehead in the curve of my shoulder. I could feel his breath coming in pants against my chest.
Uncertain now, I simply stroked his back. When the rhythm of his breath evened out, he said, “I’m trying to be a gentleman. I honestly didn’t invite you over today for this.”
The kissing and the touching had made me feel anxious and unfulfilled. I brought my legs together and squeezed, trying to alleviate the ache, but the motion only made Noah groan. He placed his hand on the top of one thigh and pressed hard.
“Please, don’t,” he said, his voice slightly muffled. “If you move, I’ll…” His voice trailed off. He took a deep breath and pushed himself into a seated position next to me, one arm still caging me in. “I better go.”
I didn’t want him to. Maybe we weren’t quite ready for sex, even though my body screamed for it, but I wanted to sleep with him and feel his body next to mine during the entire night. I hadn’t ever slept with anyone other than Lana before.
I took a deep breath and made an offer I knew was dangerous. “You could sleep here with me,” I said softly. When he started to protest, I held up a hand. “Trust me to know my own feelings. Don’t assume you know what’s best for me.”
“Okay,” he said simply. He undressed without hesitation or embarrassment, and I enjoyed the show more than I thought I would. His shoulders were broad, and I could see definition in the faint light from the bathroom creating interesting shadows on his skin. The indentation of his spine was marked and looked like a perfect trail to explore with my fingers. A dark mark spotted his right shoulder. It was a tattoo, but I couldn’t make out the shape or form. Tomorrow, I promised myself, I’d explore it tomorrow. He stopped and left his boxers on, a tight-fitting cotton that extended to the tops of his thighs. I lifted the covers and scooted over, and he climbed in bed next to me. As we laid together side by side like two toddlers in a bed, I remembered one of the last letters I received from Noah.
Dear Grace,
My active duty enlistment will run out in two months. I can re-up, but it would be a longer commitment than I’m ready to give right now. There are good parts and bad parts to being enlisted. It’s hard to imagine leaving the guys. It’s hard to envision going back home.
When I was home on my last leave, it was like the world had become completely different than I’d remembered. I don’t ever remember having that feeling of disorientation after basic. It’s not just the weather or the terrain or the lack of people with robes in the streets. Or even seeing pavement where it’s usually just dirt. Or no longer worrying that next time I take a step it might be my last. Or maybe it is.
Bo is willing to do whatever I want. If I reenlist, he’ll reenlist; if I get out, he’ll get out. I think most of the guys in my unit don’t want to come back, but some of them are going to try for Marine Force Recon. Another guy in my unit is leaving the Marines to try to be an Army Ranger. That sort of thing appeals to me, I guess. It’s like pitting yourself against the best alive, and, if you come out the other end, it’s amazing.
But having left my hometown, I guess I finally realized I don’t have to go back. That my entire life isn’t wrapped up in where I was born, where I went to school, or who my family is. But if I don’t reenlist and I don’t go back home, what do I do?
The one good thing is that while you are here, you’re given a list of things to do and then you do them. We’re just the weapons they aim and fire. Go forth and destroy shit, say the commanders.
I don’t know if I’m equipped to do anything else than be a Marine at this point or if I even want to be anything else. I’m tired of being here, but the war is winding down. Even if I did re-enlist, I probably wouldn’t see combat again. And my guess is that non-combat service doesn’t deliver the same adrenaline rush. That’s why the guys who are reupping are thinking Special Forces.
I think this is why Odysseus stays away for so long. He’s addicted to the adrenaline and, he’s afraid of what kind of person he might be when he gets back home. It was easier for him to keep going even though each new mission took him farther and farther away from Penelope. Sure, he said his whole goal was to return to her, but it was easier for him to love her from a distance.
Coming home was his greatest battle.
~ Noah
I had read Noah’s letters thinking he was invincible, but he wasn’t. For all his outward strength and physical ability and unceasing drive, he was just as human and frail as I was. I rolled on my side and placed my head on his shoulder. He slid his arm beneath my head and curled it around me. I thought I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, but the food and the liquor and the warmth of his body lulled me into slumber.