Chapter 1
I didn't join the military to become anyone's fantasy.
I joined to become a nurse. A real one.
The kind they'd send into the thick of it, with trembling hands and steady eyes. The kind who could stitch up a bullet wound with only a headlamp and a heartbeat. I wanted to be useful. Brave. Unshakable.
But nothing really prepares you for how it feels to walk into boot camp as a young, eager woman and, apparently, a distraction.
They looked at me like I didn't belong. Or like I did, but not for the reasons I'd hoped.
Still, I adapted. I learned to laugh at the jokes before they were turned on me. I learned the names, the ranks, the rhythm of footsteps in the early morning. I even learned that being surrounded by strong, sharp-jawed men wasn't as intimidating as I thought. It was... oddly comforting.
Maybe that should've been my first red flag.
But I was too busy trying to prove myself. Trying to pretend I didn't notice the stares. The whispers. The way some of them said my name like it was a dare.
I wasn't here for them. I was here for me.
But then there was Adrian Foster. Always smiling, always a little too cheerful for how early it was. The kind of guy who drew doodles in the margins of his medical forms and somehow made it charming instead of annoying.
He joked, but never too much. Flirty - without flirting. He had a way of being light without being empty. Kind without trying to get anything from it.
I didn't know him well. Not then. But I liked him. More than I should've.
I sat at my desk in the clinic, enjoying the quiet hours while the soon-to-be-soldiers were finally asleep.
Boot camp was well underway, and the final stretch - what was known as the Blue Phase - was creeping up fast. You could feel the shift around the barracks: workouts happening on every corner, less chatter, more focus.
More of them had started showing up for weigh-ins, blood pressure checks, and last-minute questions. Everyone wanted to be in top shape for the APFT. I couldn’t blame them. Even I felt nervous on their behalf.
Over the past ten weeks, I’d grown close to a few of them - probably more than I should have. This was my first real job as a nurse, and I hadn’t yet figured out how to separate work from emotion. Some of these men were my age, some even younger. The thought that many of them could soon be drafted kept me awake more nights than I’d like to admit.
But that was a reality I had to come to terms with - if I wanted to keep this job and climb the ranks.
And I would. I knew that.
I’d been clicking the end of my pen absentmindedly, staring at my laptop screen, willing my mind to just stop. I glanced at the digital clock in the corner.
00:13
Damn. Already?
Saturday, technically - not that it meant much. Still, I had a few routines that made the days feel different. My Saturday night cigarette was one of them.
I closed the laptop and began tidying my workspace, making sure no personal files were left out. I gathered the loose papers from my desk and locked them away, then spun halfway around in my chair to spot a few more lying on the rickety hospital cot behind me.
The cot was nothing like what you’d see in a real hospital - more like something from a garage sale. I always feared it would collapse under one of the bigger guys, but so far, it hadn’t betrayed me.
Still seated, I scooted over and picked up the remaining forms. I glanced over the name on top:
Adrian Foster.
One of my favorites - not that I was supposed to have favorites. But it happens in any job where you work closely with people. You like some more than others.
I’d learned to never let it show. I worked hard for this career, spending years and money to get here. I wasn’t about to risk it by crossing any lines.
Adrian's form was a standard health update. He’d come in earlier, worried he might have sprained his ankle. Things like this was a common concern lately. With the final physical test approaching, they were all extra cautious - even the tiniest issue felt huge to them. I didn’t mind.
Whether I offered medical support or just listened while they vented about snoring bunkmates, I was happy to be there for them.
Sometimes I got the occasional crude comment or half-hearted attempt at flirting - which I always shut down with a quick reminder about the SHARP program. That usually did the trick.
Adrian had never said anything inappropriate.
He was respectful, always. Relaxed, too - easy to talk to, without seeming fake or forced. Some days he was more cheerful than others, but that only made him seem more real.
I smiled as I flipped through the pages. At the bottom, he’d drawn a little cartoon: a guy flexing his biceps under the caption 3 klicks later.
A nod to their recent run - three kilometers, part of the final test.
Adrian had passed with ease. I knew because I was there, stationed on the sidelines in case anyone got hurt. His time: fourteen minutes, thirty-seven seconds.
I remembered it vividly.
Partly because of the pride on his face when he realized he’d crushed it.
Partly because I looked at him in a way I definitely shouldn’t have.
He was soaked in sweat, shirt clinging to his body, muscles outlined and glistening. Endorphins made him glow. My cheeks warmed at the memory - not just because of how good he had looked, but because of how proud I’d felt in that moment.
Get a grip, I told myself.
I slipped his form into the drawer, locked it, and checked my watch.
00:20.
Time to shut down for the night.
Luckily, I could sleep at the training grounds if I didn’t feel like driving home - and tonight, I really didn’t. The night staff had arrived at midnight, so I needed to let them know I’d be staying.
Grabbing my bag, I made sure my cigarettes, lighter and cardigan were inside, then turned off the lights and locked the clinic door behind me.
I walked over to the staff office and knocked lightly so I wouldn’t startle the nurse on duty.
A small woman in her forties, Irene, looked up from her magazine. “Yes?”
“Hey,” I said, stepping inside. “Just wanted to let you know I’m staying the night. Long day - don’t feel like driving.”
She looked back down in her magazine. “Alright. But don’t complain if you’re woken up. I’ve got work to do.”
Which probably meant making coffee every two hours. Night shifts were rarely hectic, and we both knew it.
“Got it. Good night,” I said, not waiting for a response.
I slipped out through the back door, where the cold, crisp air hit me like a reset button. The scent of disinfectant gave way to the sharp freshness of the outdoors.
I pulled on the cardigan - not that it helped much - and headed off to find a quiet spot to smoke.
Navigating the grounds in the dark wasn’t easy, especially from the back side of the clinic. I wandered for a few minutes until I found a small shed near the perimeter fence.
It was far enough from the main buildings and offered some wind cover. With the tall, barbed fence separating me from the forest beyond, I felt safe - from wild animals and any other things that might hurt me.
I pulled out a cigarette - LM Blue Label 100s - and lit it with a flick of my red lighter.
The first drag sent a wave of calm through me.
I exhaled slowly.
For a few precious moments, I let my mind go blank. But then the thoughts crept in again - about what mattered, and how little anything seemed to matter at all.
If I can’t even feel at ease here, how will I manage out there - in the real army?
I exhaled through my nose, the smoke curling into the night air.
Maybe I should go back to school. Get more experience. Maybe this place wasn’t what I hoped it would be.
And I refuse to end up like Irene.
I took another long drag. The cigarette was already halfway gone. I should savor it.
My phone buzzed in my bag.
Just as I reached for it, I heard footsteps.
I froze.
Someone was approaching. I didn’t know who it was - or what I would say. If it was the wrong person, this could cost me everything.
I dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath my shoe.
Instead of hiding, I made a quick decision: step out, own it. Better that than being caught skulking around like a guilty kid.
I turned the corner - and stopped cold.
A large silhouette stood before me, nearly colliding with mine.
I looked up, heart pounding.
What now?
