“Did what?” one of them asks, grinning.
“The whistle. That's sexual harassment, you jerk!”
“Jerk?” the biggest of the cadets says, laughing. I see his garrison cap with the black shield on it. He's a firstie, a senior. “In four months, that's going to be jerk, sir. Might want to get used to it, pretty lady.”
I'm pissed, but I can see in their eyes that they'll back each other up on this. The Corps may have an honor code, and if there were some officer around to bust their asses, they wouldn't lie about it. But I'm just a small-timer, and they'll take the fuck off as soon as I ask for a name or go to find someone. Instead, I just turn and head off, pissed.
Walking back toward the office, I get more and more pissed off. Not because of the whistle, which was annoying, but because these guys are supposed to be the future leaders of the Army, the fucking best and brightest? Fuck me, if that's what the future leaders are like. I'm not sure the Army's in as good a shape as it keeps saying it is.
Sergeant Greene sees I'm pissed when I get back to the office, but I wave it off and she lets me stew. As time passes and four o'clock approaches, I just can't get that asshole’s comment out of my mind. When Sergeant Greene lets me go, I'm so pissed that I nearly storm back to my room to change. Regardless of whether I'm pissed or not, I agreed to ride with Aaron, and the way I'm feeling, I can use a chance to work off some frustration.
Today, instead of meeting all the way out by the ski slope, we meet near Michie Stadium. Aaron's a few minutes late, which isn't all that unusual, but for some reason, it pisses me off today. “Hey,” he says, still with that same smile that he always has when he sees me. “You look stressed.”
“Bad day at work,” I tell him tersely, strapping on my helmet. “Ready to roll?”
“Sure,” he says, putting on his sunglasses. “I was thinking a ride out to Camp Buckner?”
“Fine.” We take off, but as we leave main post and turn left, heading down the highway toward Buckner, I keep hearing that wolf whistle in my head and his gloat that I’ll have to call him Sir. I'm getting angrier and angrier, and I start pushing the pace. The route out to Buckner isn't too bad for a bicyclist, but instead of just taking it easy, I'm leaning over my handlebars, pumping hard. I hear Aaron call out behind me, but I ignore him, pushing harder.
I know what I'm trying to outrun. I'm trying to outrun the frustration that I feel inside me, that I'm stuck as a PFC while getting wolf whistles from assholes who are going to be Lieutenants. I'm angry that I want to be more. That I want to have the chance to be more than just a file clerk. I'm frustrated that I want a real relationship, that I want a chance to do things . . . and in trying to do so, I'm breaking a rule. A stupid rule, made in the days when things were different in the world, in our society. I mean, how am I supposed to be unduly influenced by Aaron when I can't even be in his unit? The odds of him becoming my commanding officer are tiny.
I come down the last hill and see the entrance to Camp Buckner up ahead. I hang a right, heading down the road, taking the last half-mile to the main Camp turnaround point hard and fast. I can hear Aaron keeping up behind me, and when I make the turn, I screech to a halt. He's cut me off, and our bikes nearly hit as he yanks his bike directly in front of mine.
“What the hell?” I seethe, hopping off my bike. “You trying to crash?”
“No,” Aaron says, putting his kickstand down and getting off his bike. He's angry, and his eyes are sparkling as he confronts me. “I'm trying to figure out what the hell is up with you today! Jesus, you've been pedaling like you're trying out for the Tour de France!”
“If you can't keep up . . .” I huff, and Aaron rips off his helmet, slamming it to the ground.
“It's not that!” he yells, stepping closer until he's barely inches from me, his hands trembling. “You're obviously angry about something, Lindsey. Was it the weekend? Are you pissed at me?”
“No!” I yell, pushing him away, but it's me who takes a few steps back, stumbling until I nearly fall. “Yes! No! I . . . dammit, Aaron!”
I'm starting to cry. I'm so angry and pissed off with all these emotions coming to a head. He takes my hand, pulling me close. His lips find mine, and we kiss, hard at first. His lips mash against mine, and I'm pulling at his head, devouring his mouth and tongue as I hold him close.