“Me too. I hope she’s awesome and fucks you silly.”
Laughing, I reply, “Me too, H. Me too.”
We wrap the call up a few minutes later. Honor promises to save the ten pounds she won from Maggie until I’m back in London. “We’ll share the spoils,” she said.
No longer in the mood to type, I decide to get changed and head to the deck a little earlier than expected. I can get a light jog in before WO Benson starts the PT session. A little adrenaline will help clear my head.
Honor is right, I need to go into this thing with River fresh. She promised to give me her all, and I need to do the same. Who knows, she could turn out to be exactly what I’ve been looking for.
I’ve not let myself think that way about anyone since the ex. I still question whether everything I’m feeling and have agreed to is due to the odd circumstances in which River and I met. Not forgetting our circumstances now.
Hell. Maybe that’s what I need: something that makes absolutely no sense on paper.
13
River
The interview didn’t gowell. I choked. Instead of giving heartfelt answers I spewed some bullshit I’d read on a poster in the recruitment office back when I signed up. Oh, not forgetting the idiotic shit I said about picking up women. It was awful. I don’t know what happened. Cleo must think I’m a shallow asshole.
My relative state of calm after our heart-to-heart this morning is gone. I’ve replaced it with anxiety instead. How am I going to do this if I keep messing up? It’s like my brain shuts down anytime I have to be genuine.
I promised Cleo I wouldn’t tell anyone about our arrangement, but I think I might have to walk that one back. Instead of shoving things to the back of my mind, I think I need to talk. Everything is far too new to do that with Cleo. My chest feels tight, like someone’s sitting on it. Ikeep replaying the interview—Cleo’s face when I deflected, the way she closed her notebook, the disappointment in her voice. I fucked it up. Again.
I need to go to the only person who knows me as well as I know myself. Cheddar.
We’ve got an Xbox session on the agenda this evening. A nice chilled few hours where I can—try—to open up to her. It’s unlikely I’m going to succeed at this dating malarky without some help and guidance. Granted, Cheddar isn’t the pinnacle of dating success. She resembles me in that manner, but she’s definitely more in touch with her feelings. Ideally I’d talk to Kit, but Cleo might actually murder me if I do that. I told her I wouldn’t tell anyone. Looked her in the eye and promised. And here I am, less than twelve hours later, already planning to break it. But what choice do I have? I can’t do this alone. I’ll just…not tell Cleo. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Right?
My work assignment today is the upkeep of the missile system. It should keep me busy for the whole day, which is a relief. A few hours of respite from the insanity in my head is needed. When I’m working, I know what I’m doing. Systems, checks, protocols—it all makes sense. There’s a right way and a wrong way, and I’m good at it.No emotions, no second-guessing, no wondering if I’m enough. Just me and the job.
It should help me formulate whatever the hell it is I want to say to Cheddar.
I’m satisfied with my productive day. All systems are green—we’ll have no issues if we need to use the ship’s missiles anytime soon. It’s a part of the job I love. Pure satisfaction of a job well done. I also got to work with Pecker. His name is Pete Milford, but he earned the name Pete the Pecker when he got absolutely slaughtered at his passing out parade celebration and streaked the training ground, giving everyone a view of his manhood. For once, he earned a moniker that isn’t an insult. Even as a lesbian, I was impressed with Pete’s pecker size. He wears it like a badge of honour, as he should. Hilariously, even the officers call him Pecker most of the time.
Pete is a great guy, with a great sense of humour. He doesn’t take life too seriously, but is shit hot at his job. When we’re paired together on an assignment, we always get shit done.
I’m looking forward to a hot shower and an easy night. Cheddar is already in the lounge when I finally finish soaking and dress in my sweatpants. I’m officially off the clock.
Cheddar has two beers open and several packs of Wotsits piled on the coffee table. We need to be careful not to burn through our alcohol ration too quickly. Benson would cream his boxers if we abused the privilege. No doubt he’d ban us entirely from drinking on board, even if the captain allows it. Kit would also lose her shit because she’s the one responsible for the key to the fridge. I’m guessing Cheddar rifled through Kit’s unmentionables to retrieve it, and sneaked our beverages for the evening.
“Hey, you ready to get your ass beat on Mario Kart?”
I scoff. “Dream on, Ched. You’re yet to take me down once. I’m the reigning champion of the entire engineering staff.”
“I’ve been practicing,” she mumbles through a fistful of Wotsits. Those orange fuckers are the reason she never, and will never, beat me on any Xbox game. Cheddar would rather have her hand in the bag than on her controller.
I take a large gulp of beer and settle in. We have four rounds of Mario Kart before Cheddar throws a hissy fit and demands we change the game. As expected, she lost every race…badly.
We’re deep into a Call of Duty campaign when I feel the need to unburden myself to Cheddar. I’d kept any thought of my agreement with Cleo at bay for the majorityof the day, but now I’m relaxed, my mind is hauling it back to the surface.
I side-eye my friend a few times. My heart’s hammering.This is stupid. Why am I so nervous? It’s just Cheddar. But talking about feelings isn’t something I do. Ever. My mouth is dry, my palms are sweating, and I’m seriously considering just keeping my gob shut and pretending everything’s fine.
But I can’t. Not this time.
“Okay, what’s going on? I can feel you looking at me every fart’s end, and it’s annoying as hell. Have I got something on my face?”
“Aside from a ton of cheese dust?”
She rolls her eyes and brushes a hand over her mouth, doing nothing to rid herself of the powder, which has possibly stained her face. I make a mental note to get a picture of that before the night’s end.
