Starts with a Match

Let Me List thy Ways

I'm with Elijah, taking a break after our last bomb deployment and raid. One before that was a lot more intense. Neither of us slept well.

We're sweaty and tired, and February is making us shiver. We haven't seen our other two friends since Christmas, only hearing them over walkies, and I'm grateful as hell that I've got Eli and not someone else.

The first New Years he and I were together, he kissed me. This was after the make out ridiculousness of Christmas that he still jokes about. Was more of a friend thing. I've kissed people when it's not been a friend thing. Didn't feel like that with Elijah.

Last year no one celebrated.

This year we passed a flask of old whiskey back and forth in silence until sunrise.

We got word from Jim that the bridges so far are okay, though I guess word is going around that yellow unit had a problem with some G3—grunts gone gluts. People in the ranks getting infected, not always telling others in time, until two or three people infected turns into half a dozen, or as many as ten, and it becomes a serious problem.

Some soldiers are scared. New year means some of them should get to go home by May, if not a little sooner.

So there's panic, naturally. Can't go home if there's been an outbreak in your unit. Can't go home if unit is under investigation. Can't go home if someone's got a fucking cold.

Almost like the army refuses to actually let soldiers return to their loved ones...

"You think Medrano would marry me?"

I look up from my map and laugh out loud and get a boot in my ass in response. "I'm being serious!"

"You're being a moron," I refute, checking behind me to Elijah. He scowls and scratches under his nose, glaring off at the trees, other foot swinging as he sits on the open truck bed. "What, you're away from her for a couple months and you think you're in love?"

"No. Been away longer than that. Orange unit's far, man, I miss waking up every morning to see her and...and Margie. At breakfast. Y'know?" he sighs, and I sit on the lip of the truck with him. "Miss her, too. Miss them both, all the time. Feeling like...like every day's a chance to lose all those I love." He shrugs and pulls his favorite letter out of his jacket pocket just to look at his dad's handwriting again. "Cause I do. Love all you guys."

"Love you too, man." I elbow him and he nudges me back. "I still don't think Hannah would marry you."

Elijah grins and squints at me. "And you're the expert in romance, huh?"

"Oh, absolutely," I nod, giving an exaggerated sniff and stretch. "Ask me all about wooing. I'm your man."

"You are huh?"

My hum makes clouds around us, and he hums back.

"Then why haven't you told Toby how you feel?"

My eyes bug at him, and he gets off the truck, turning in a circle with his hands in his pockets. "The fuck you mean?"

He fakes a look of shock. "Oh, don't tell me you're still in denial—"

"About what!"

"About the fact that you got feelings for Toby Fritz! Your friggin' pen pal!" My jaw drops with a scoff and he snorts and rolls his eyes. "Good grief, as in tune as you think you are to how others get along, you are clueless about yourself."

"I...I, no, I don't—I haven't even met them—"

"So? You go on and on about them." I make a face I hope looks like 'I certainly do not, but he just holds up a hand and taps at his fingers one by one.