Unraveled

"What's infantry school?"

I reined in my impatience and started to explain when Grace came over and rescued me.

“Amy,” Grace said. "Leave the pretty Marine alone. His glass is empty and you know how guys get when their glass is empty."

"They get thirsty?" Amy asked.

I kind of wanted to hear Grace’s reply, but her eyes were silently telling me to get while the getting was good. I fled to the group out at the pool, which included Bo’s girlfriend.

“A

“There's a whole bunch of single women here." She waved a hand at the ever growing crowd. "We held this party just for you."

"I appreciate that, but I'm only here for a short time. Pick one for me. I want to use my time wisely."

"Oh no, not the ‘why one-night stands don’t make good sex’ lecture.” Bo groaned.

"What's this?” she asked.

"Ignore him. Bo doesn't like anything that requires thinking,” I said.

"He's actually very smart.” She looked adorably peeved that I was saying anything bad about her boy. While I enjoyed giving both my boys shit, I was happy that Bo was with someone who defended him so fiercely. I kind of wanted that. Someday. Like in ten years, I told myself.

"I can see you’re still in the early stages of a strong infatuation,” I teased, wondering how long it would be before Bo would carry A

"I want to hear this theory," A

Bo flopped back and heaved a huge theatrical sigh. "Now we're in for it."

She put her hand over his mouth. "Start talking."

He must have licked her hand because she pulled it away with a yelp and wiped her palm on her shirt, giving Bo a dirty look. Yup, it was official. I was jealous of one of my oldest friends because of the easy relationship he had with his girl. Maybe coming here had been a mistake.

I forced my gaze away from the happy couple and onto the growing crowd. There were a lot of gorgeous women here, and many of them were eyeing me like I was top grade prime rib at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I’d be a fool not to take advantage of an offer.

I turned to A

"Maybe for you it's three minutes." Bo smirked.

"Whatever. You can't tell me it's not better with A

"I was a virgin when I met A

"Why do you need that?" She quirked an eyebrow at me.

"I'm just careful," I replied. I didn't want to go into the long, sordid story about my past brush with a serious STI due to a cheating girlfriend. I’d come away clean, thankfully, but it had been a close call.

"Plus she has to be in the medical profession,” Bo added.

"Jesus, she does not." I was going to have to take him to the ground because he'd forgot the kind of beating I could deliver.

"Your last three 'companions' were in the health field." Bo held up his fingers. I grabbed a couple and twisted them back as he tried to hit me with his other fist. A

"I'm not going to hook you up with any of my friends if you’re dating someone!" she said disgustedly.

"I'm not seeing anyone," I assured her. "I'm just not into the bar hook up."

"Why's that?" This was a question from Adam, the one who'd popped the champagne cork. He had more tattoos than some of the guys I served with. I guess it went with his rock band lifestyle.

"Safety," I said.

"Too many chances of putting the stick in crazy?" another roommate asked. It was Fi

"No way. Crazy is awesome. Crazy in the head; crazy in the bed," Adam said.

I shook my head. "No. Disease. Pregnancy scares."

"Suit up, man." Adam tipped his head back and drained his beer. I waited until he was done to impart some much-needed sense. It was the same tip I gave to the new recruits.

"You can still get herpes on your ball sack."

Adam looked down at his lap and so did nearly every guy within listening distance. One by one, they all got up and left. Presumably to go look at their nuts. Bo gave me a nudge and high-fived me. Civilians, Marines—they were all the same in some ways.

Grace came wandering out and sat down next to us. "Where is everyone?"

"Checking out their balls," A

AFTER ADAM HAD CONVINCED HIMSELF his gonads were in good health, he showed me where I’d be staying for the few weeks I’d be here.

"You sure I'm not putting you out or anything?" I threw my seabag and backpack down near the door in case Adam had changed his mind about letting me use his room. The place was pretty clean for being the bedroom of a twenty-five-year-old musician who lived with four other guys. Not military clean. There was shit everywhere, like two guitars in the corner and a mess of woven bracelets, heavy silver rings, guitar picks, and what looked like four or five different pairs of headphones on a dresser. But there weren’t any empty pizza boxes on the floor or half-filled beers on the nightstand. Instead, it looked like the room of a guy who lived in his music.

"Nah, I'm going to bunk in the garage. It's where most of my instruments are anyway." Adam went over to the dresser and shoved everything off the top and into the drawer beneath it—presumably clearing space for my shit. "This is the bathroom." Adam opened the door to what I'd thought was a closet. Inside was a decent-sized bathroom with a shower, a toilet and a sink and another door. "Closet's through there. I tried to clear a little space for you." The closet looked like a denim factory. There were dozens of jeans piled on custom shelves and another full set of shelves with an unholy amount of boots and shoes.

"Not to be offensive, man, but you’ve more clothes and shoes than any guy I've ever met."

Adam gave a negligent shrug. "I like clothes. So sue me."

"I'll just leave my stuff in my bag.” I didn’t feel comfortable setting my gear up beside Adam’s. I was only here for a short while and I’d had plenty of practice living out of my pack.

"Your call," Adam said. "Use what you want. The cleaning crew comes on Wednesdays at three. We all try to get out of here and leave them alone.” He paused, looked around the room again, and then gave me another shrug.

The cleaning crew explained the decent state of the room. The shrug, however, was weird but I let it pass without comment because it wasn’t any of my business. If Adam had been in my platoon, I would have probably had to ask nosy questions to make sure he wasn’t fucking up his personal life so bad that it would affect his performance in the Corps. But he wasn’t, so I shut my mouth, showered off the travel grime, and shrugged on a fresh T-shirt, cargo shorts, and sandals. Downstairs, the party seemed to be in full swing, with people littering the patio outside and some poorly playing a first-person action game on the big screen in the living area.