“I’m going to call you what everyone else calls you,” I said, and not unkindly.
“Suit yourself,” he shrugged and grabbed a clean rag from the counter, turning on the tap to run warm water over it. He started to hand the damp cloth over to me, but then pulled it back, sitting down next to me against the wall as he leaned over and gently began to prod at the injury on my skull. I winced, and his hand eased up. His hands worked flawlessly, fingers gently prodding the base of my head.
“It was inappropriate of them to do that,” he said, parting the hair at the base of my skull to find the open lump. “Any dizziness? Nausea?”
“It’s all part of the initiation, right?” I said sarcastically, wincing again as his fingers prodded the sensitive part of my head. “And no, nothing like that. It’s just a goose egg.”
“Chief Davis forbade those kinds of pranks six years ago.” Necker cleared his throat and dropped his hand from my head, getting up to rinse the bloody rag off in the sink. “I’m sorry they did it.”
“It’s not their fault I fell.” The shame was still heavy, anger and humiliation pounding in my chest. I wanted to be anywhere else in the world more than I wanted to be here having this conversation. Hansen rinsed off the rag with hot water and then drenched it with cold water, folding it over to hand to me so I could keep pressure on the wound. Then he slid down the wall to sit by me again.
“I should have been keeping an eye on them. This is my fault too.”
“Don’t.” I scoffed and shook my head, a little too quickly it seemed as dizziness clutched at me. I pulled the rag away from the back of my head and stared at it, not really seeing it.
“Don’t what?” Hansen asked, and he sounded genuine, like he had no idea why I could possibly be upset.
“Don’t treat me like I’m fragile.” I tossed the rag into the dirty laundry basket and stood up, steadying myself against the wall as another wave of dizziness overcame me. Of course, as soon as he’d asked, there it was.
“Hill,” he said, still staring at me. But he didn’t move from his position against the wall.
“I can handle my own here, Captain,” I continued. “I don’t need you to be the moderator between these childish pranks. I’m a big girl; if you haven’t figured it out already, I can take care of myself.”
Without leaving time to respond, I slammed the door behind me and made my way upstairs to crawl into bed, slinking by the kitchen without a second glance, hoping nobody could see my metaphorical walk of shame. I didn’t bother changing into nightwear because I knew it would only take time away from responding to a call. I wanted to be on my game; nothing would get in my way, not tonight.
I shared the sleeping quarters with the rest of the guys, and that’s how I liked it, only because I was serious when I told Hansen not to treat me differently.
The men ignored me for the rest of the evening and well into the night. I couldn’t tell if that was better or worse than them actively being assholes. I kept my face in my pillow, and the blanket tucked securely around me, ignoring the shuffling of the guy’s bedtime routine, hoping and praying that no one was preparing for another cruel prank. I wasn’t sure if I could handle it, not tonight, not after today.
The night was mostly quiet, but I couldn’t sleep despite the stillness in the air. I wasn’t sure if it was the snores of the men around me, the stifling smell of dirty socks, or if my uniform wasn’t the most comfortable bedtime attire that kept me tossing and turning all night.
When six a.m. broke the following day, announced by the alarm clock next to Jake’s bunk ringing incessantly, I had never been so relieved to be free of work.
“Shower?” Jake asked, swinging his legs over the bed. I shook my head and sat up, tossing the blankets from my legs as I placed my feet on the floor. Jake noticed it first, and I watched his eyes travel from my hips and down to my toes, a wary expression on his face. I looked down, eyes widening with horror at the blue, red, and orange stained the fabric of my uniform, turning it into an unkempt mess of bloody color that seeped into the fabric of my pants and even into the sheets on the bed.
“What the fuck.”
“Oh shit,” Jake said and ran his hand over the sheet where my legs had been all night. “Kool-Aid.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I stood up, feeling itchy, dirty, and sticky. I rubbed my hands over the fabric on my legs to see if the stain would wipe off. It didn’t. Across the room, Nick and Matt watched us, sniggering. I looked back at Jake, who shrugged helplessly.
“I’m sorry, P. I would have warned you if they told me.”
“You know what? It’s fine. At least they didn’t crack my head open this time.” Trying to act unscathed, I gathered the stained Kool-Aid sheets from my bed and stuffed them into the laundry chute, ignoring my fellow crew members’ stares, laughs, and head shakes. Then, I reached for my overnight bag of civilian clothes and stripped down to my bra and undies, right there in front of the other guys, just as they would have done with me. Jake looked away, face flushing red, and I didn’t bother to try and read the expressions on the rest of the guys. I didn’t care, not anymore.
I pulled on a clean sweatshirt and pants, then stuffed the soiled uniform in my bag to wash it at home later.
“Are you sure you don’t want to shower?” Jake asked, gathering a clean towel.
“I’ll shower at home,” I muttered, anxious to be free of the men who hated me. I could only pray that these stupid stains would come out of the fabric; I had looked like a clown, and I really didn’t have the desire to have to pay for a new set of uniform slacks. Seething but trying to hold in the anger boiling beneath the surface, I clutched my bag and stepped toward the stairs. Someone knocked me from behind, jolting me just enough that I tripped over my foot and had to catch myself on the bed mattress.
“Sorry,” Korbin yawned as he trudged past me, running one hand through his black hair. “Didn’t sleep well.”
“Interesting because you have the loudest snore in here.”
He ignored me and went to the bathroom, casually pulling off his shirt and dropping his pants. I blushed and looked away, but not before catching sight of a nicely sculpted but mostly arrogant ass.
I gathered my things as quickly as possible, wanting to be home more than I wanted to be here. My first shift had proved difficult, and it was hard to hold it together. My pride was injured. I needed time to recoup, and if I had to let it out, if I had to cry, it wouldn’t be here, in front of all ofthem.
