This Is Why I Hate You Too

18. Patterns, Patterns, Patterns

"How did he not get arrested for that, by the way?" Freddie asked her.

"Hm?" she turned to him.

"We found out about what he did. How did he not end up in jail?"

"That's exactly what we want to know," Matt told him. "Another thing I'd like to ask you, is it true that the nickname Arthur Lindfelt used to go by was. . . 'blackout'?"

Freddie cracked up. "No, no, that was—that's a stupid nickname, by the way."

"Why do you say that?"

"Having a tough-sounding nickname in the military doesn't mean you're actually tough. It just means that you're really stupid. The best nicknames you can get in the military are the ones that sound pretty dumb, but actually have a deeper meaning. For example, Ana's nickname was 'chipmunk' because she would finish her drills the quickest. And, mind you, Arthur's nickname wasn't 'blackout'; it was 'phantom'. We didn't give him that nickname because he was good at camouflage or something. We gave him that nickname because he was really pale and had unbelievably thin skin. You could just. . . slide your hand through him to get on his nerves."

Matt dimpled a little at what he said. "He also said that Senior Airman Austin was nicknamed 'raven'?"

"Yeah, that was his nickname."

"Why was he called that?"

"Well, it wasn't because he was swift like a raven; it's because he used to laugh like one. Do you know what a raven sounds like? Picture a six-five rancher from North Carolina with that laugh. His dorm used to be across the hallway from mine back in Osan. I used to hear that laugh everyday after practice."

"What was Senior Airman Asher's nickname? He didn't mention it in his journal."

"Uh, his nickname was 'serpent'. Not because he was sneaky or murderous like one, but because he had. . . unmatched bad breath from all the dip he had in his mouth."

"Wow."

"Uh, Agent Tyler?" Ana inquired. "I believe the reason for Arthur Lindfelt not being in jail is here."

And at that moment, a man in a giant brown coat, his glasses peering out of its hood entered the library. Ana put her glasses back on and presently rose to leave.

"Miss Cassava, wait," Matt said to her.

"Yes? Is there anything else you'd like to know? I believe I've told you enough."

Matt stopped to think. "Yeah, you're right. You can leave now. Thank you again."

"No problem—again."

Ana walked out of the building, waving goodbye to everyone inside. Ashley followed her outside, hurrying to find her placing her things in her bike's basket.

"Hey, Ana," Ashley said to her. "Sorry if I was rude to you back there."

Ana turned to Ashley, looking quite surprised at her presence. "No, it's alright. You're excused." She stood up straight, meeting her face. "You know—Rachel told me about what happened to you."

"She did?" Ashley's eyes dilated.

"Yes—and. . . God, that is awful. I hope you're doing better."

"I hope you are. I mean—leaving you with second degree burns? That's horrifying."

Ana nodded.

"You know, this kinda reminds me," Ashley resumed. "You're not the only person he left with scars."

Ashley took off her coat and took out her arm, showing her healed scars to Ana. I failed to mention this, but for three years, Ashley had been wandering through life with healed scars around her arms and inner thighs. She cut her arms because they had enough blood to keep her in a high, and she cut her inner thighs because she was ashamed of how she let Arthur have sex with her so often. For all I know, he wasn't even that good at it. Although she covered them for a while, Ashley ended up showing her bare scars to the world. She didn't care for people staring at them. She just walked around with them like they were nothing.