"You have a commentary, Waters?" an authoritative voice asked.
"No, ma'am." Grace said, sharing a look with Jan and Latisha. I have got to learn to watch what I say when the Goon Squad's around.
DAY TWO
Grace kept her eyes focused on the flagpole as the instructors walked up and down the rows of girls. To her dismay, she found herself face to face with the imposing Instructor Carey.
"Two hits for Waters," she said. "No undershirt, laces touching the ground." Grace shifted her weight from one leg to the other and rolled her eyes. "Drop for twenty!" Carey yelled into her ear.
Grace dropped to the ground, fighting to keep her thoughts to herself.
Damn bitch. You think it's so fun to do pushups? Get that tall ass of yours down here and do them and see how you feel, Queen bitch. When she finished, she rose and glared at the flagpole, wishing it would magically collapse and land on Instructor Carey.
“All right, report to the mess hall. Barracks inspection in thirty minutes," Instructor Carey said, and mirrored sunglasses looked in Grace's direction. "I've seen the barracks, and some of you should think about skipping breakfast."
“Ten hut," Instructor Carey said as she and Gage entered the barracks. "Line up at the foot of your bunk. Bowen, sneakers go to the left of the footlocker, not the right. Jennings, hats aren't worn indoors." She stopped at Grace's bunk. "Obviously your mother never taught you how to make a bed," she said, reaching down and ripping off the linens with one firm tug.
Grace watched her bed linens drop to the floor. Damn.
"Make it again," the dark-haired instructor said. Grace reached down and took the sheet, then spread it out over the cot and began to tuck it in around the sides. "Hold it," Carey said, pulling the sheet free. "Watch me. Do the blanket and sheet together. Tuck the bottom in first, then make a sharp corner here," she demonstrated. "Then the sides. No wrinkles and you can bounce a quarter off it."
"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, thinking it silly to worry about how a bed was made.
"Now you do it," Instructor Carey said, stripping the bunk again.
"Yes, ma'am." Picking up the linens, Grace spread them out over the bed. She tucked the bottom in, then made a less than perfect corner and pushed the blanket under the sides.
"Think if I took out a quarter that it would bounce on that?" Carey asked.
"No, ma'am." Who cares?
Instructor Carey then gripped the top of the blanket and pulled the linens off again. "Now do it correctly."
"Yes, ma'am." Bitch. Grace jerked the blanket up from the floor.
"Ten hut!" The teen jumped to attention, the blanket still gripped in her hand. "You'd better learn to curb that smart-ass attitude of yours, and I mean right now!" she yelled into Grace's ear. "Do it right and you wouldn't have to do it again. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'm not sure you do, Waters. But you will. Now you drop and give me ten. Now!"
Grace hit the floor. Fucking bitch.
"Count out loud, Waters."
“One," I hate you.
"Two," I hope you get hit by a bus...
"Three," and after they hit you...
"Four," they backup and…
"Five," run over you again…
"Six," I hope I'm driving the bus.
"Seven," Why can't you leave me alone?
"Eight," Fucking bitch…
"Nine," Drop dead.
“Ten, ma'am."
"Now get up and make that bunk properly," the instructor said.
"Yes, ma'am." Grace reached down and picked up the blanket again, this time making sure not to snatch the linens.
"All right, Alpha and Bravo Squads, fall in." Carey stood in front of the group of girls. "The four hours between barracks inspection and lunch are reserved for your physical and field training. On A schedule you'll have PT with me and on B with Instructor Gage. There is more to gain from PT than just sore muscles. You will gain confidence and a sense of accomplishment, both of which are sorely lacking in each and every one of you. How many of you think you can run five miles?" She paused and looked from girl to girl. "Don't all raise your hands up at once. You'll be doing five miles easy before you're through here." Grace rolled her eyes and put her hand on her hip. "Waters, you have a problem?"
Grace straightened up. "No, ma'am."
"Are you sure? You don't seem happy about the idea of PT."
"PT is fine, ma'am."
"Then it's the five-mile run that caused that little display of attitude?"
"No, ma'am.”
"Then I have to assume your unspoken commentary was for no reason," Carey said calmly as she walked over to the teen's side. "So since you disrupted for no good reason, drop and give me ten pushups right now!"
Grace lowered herself to the ground.
"Do you like doing pushups?"
"No, ma'am."
"Then you like being yelled at," Carey said. "Is that it? Do you need to be yelled at?"
"No, ma'am."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Then you better adjust that attitude of yours, and quick," Carey said. "Because I'm not going to put up with it. Do you understand?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Seven, eight, nine, ten. Now get up and show some respect."
Grace stood up and straightened her cap. Bitch.
"All right, we're taking a nice easy one-mile run, girls. Start stretching."
Stretch this, Grace thought as she limbered up. As soon as the dark-haired woman's back was to her, the teen flipped her the middle finger.
"Man, she's got it in for you," Jan said in a low voice.
"She's a fucking bitch," Grace said. "I'll never make it through this dump if I have to put up with her."
"That's not chatter I hear, is it?" Instructor Carey said, causing all the whispering conversations to stop. "Must be done stretching then. All right, line up and get ready."
"Grace, sit here," Latisha said, moving over to make room on the bench. "Did you see the schedule for classes?"
"I saw it," Grace said as she swung her legs over the bench and sat down. "Any idea what PF stands for?"
"Not a clue, but Gage is teaching it," Latisha said. "I know SD is Self-Defense."
Grace rolled her eyes. "Great, Carey's teaching that one."
"Yeah, another excuse to beat up on us," Jan Bowen said. "Grenner said that Viking Donaldson told Delta Squad that SR is Sexual Responsibility."
"Oh no," Grace groaned. "Don't tell me they're going to do that whole 'be good girls and keep your legs closed' bullshit."
"Sounds like it," Jan said. "What's the matter, Waters? Your legs so far apart they're in different zip codes?" The table erupted in laughter.
"Fuck you," Grace said lightly, unaware of the dark-haired woman coming up behind her. "At least I don't go to the kennel looking for dates."
"Oh no, you didn't just say that," Latisha said.
"Bite me, Waters."
"Naw, I'm trying to cut down on fat," Grace said, drawing more laughter at their table for several seconds before it suddenly stopped and everyone looked at a spot just behind her. She rolled her eyes, knowing that once again she had been caught by the queen bitch.
Carey squatted down so she was eye level with them. "Do you ladies think you can find something more constructive to talk about?" she said, looking around the table and pausing when her eyes landed on Grace. "Unless you would rather write a nice long essay on how incredibly unladylike it is to imply that someone has sex with dogs."