He shrugged. “It was fine.”
“You said people died.”
“I said people didn’tgraduate...”
“What happened to them? Why couldn’t they get through?”
Cary really didn’t want to get into this. Boot camp was over. He was ready to leave it behind. “They took it too personally. They let it get under their skin.”
“And you didn’t?”
“No. It wasn’t about me.”
Shiloh laughed. “‘Boot camp, three stars. It wasn’t about me.’”
“Nothing in the Navy is about me,” Cary said. “I’m just a component in a larger machine.”
“I wouldlosemymind,” she said, making a long face.
He smiled. “You would.”
“But you haven’t?” She seemed worried. She kicked a foot out, not quite touching him.
He shook his head. “It’s what I expected.” Regimented. Rigorous. Impersonal. Cary went to work, and then he went to sleep. And he tried to keep his head down in the moments between.
“You weren’t homesick?”
“Um...” He wasn’t sure how to answer that.
Cary missed his mom, but he didn’t miss their house. He didn’t miss his sisters—maybe he would eventually. He didn’t miss school or Omaha.
He missed his first name. He missed Mikey. He missed driving. He missed regular clothes. Regular food. Godfather’s pizza.
He missed Shiloh.
He’d known he was going to—but it was so much worse than he’d expected. Her letters made it worse. Everyone else had faded so fast. High school already felt like ancient history. But nothing about Shiloh had faded. If anything, her memory had taken on sharp edges. Even seeing her now made him miss her.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I guess. Tell me about all this. About college.”
“I’ve already told you about it in my letters.”
“That makes it easier,” Cary said. “We’re not starting from zero.”
Shiloh smiled big at him. So he could see her bottom row of teeth. If he was closer, he’d see how crooked they were. “Good point,” she said.
It was never hard to get Shiloh talking. Cary settled back against the wall to listen.
She told him about her roommate. About her classes. About her failed auditions at the campus theater. “They almost never cast freshmen.”
She loved the dorms. She loved being on her own. She didn’t miss her mom, much. Or the neighborhood. She missed Mikey.
She kept reaching for Cary as she talked. Just gesturing. Never making contact.
Cary had lots of practice listening to Shiloh talk. He could follow the thread of it even while his mind wandered. She’d tell you when she wanted feedback.“That was a question, Cary.”
Shiloh had a nervous way of talking. Her sentences piled up on each other and spiraled. She’d chase an idea in several different directions...
It drove Mikey crazy sometimes. There were times when he’d say,“No Shiloh tonight—I’ve got enough noise in my head.”
