The Difference Between You And Me {Petekey}

Chapter ten

He sat down on the floor like some people near him were doing. His legs immediately felt so much better from not having to keep himself from falling anymore. He didn't know why he didn't realize that the trains from this time wouldn't be like the ones from his own. Was there a time equivalent of a language barrier? He bet someone had come up with a word for it at some point. He was sure Pete knew of it, since he talked to more of their coworkers, but Mikey had no idea what it would be. Maybe a temporal barrier? Time misunderstanding? Travel confusion? None of those sounded good. Then something dawned on him: generation miscommunication! Sure, it didn't completely make sense, since it was more of a misunderstanding than a miscommunication, but he wasn't prepared to give up that awesome rhyme for the coherency.

He bet that Pete would appreciate the term, if one didn't exist already. Pete would use it all the time, more than Mikey, because he would be so proud that Mikey did something cool. He'd make it super popular among the 'cooler' coworkers, and wouldn't let anybody forget that Mikey made it up.

Mikey ached for the way Pete always showed him he cared about him and thought he was funny or smart or whatever. He missed having Pete be his cheerleader, encouraging him even when it seemed silly. He missed the way Pete would look like he just won the Olympics when he made Mikey laugh.

He sighed. He hoped that he wouldn't get too emotional when he was training, since that could seriously hold him back. Although, having friends, or at least people he liked, even if it was for a short amount like Thomas, seemed to dull the way he felt like he had no business going through his life without Pete.

Would he even talk to Thomas when they were training? There were a lot of people on the train, and probably ten times more at the camp. In any case, he was bound to meet some people he didn't absolutely hate at training camp.

Training, however, was probably going to be hell. Mikey was never the athletic type. He used to have to do written extra credit for his gym class when he was in high school. He could run relatively fast when he had to, but that was just when he had an adrenaline rush. still, it got him to where he had to be. But there was no telling what actual training would be like.

He closed his eyes. He didn't deserve to be stressing so much about this so early in the morning. He closed his eyes, pretending to try to sleep, though he knew he wouldn't even get a micro-nap out of this hellish train ride.

-

Camp Charles Wood was much more camp-like than Mikey had anticipated. There were only a few actual buildings, the rest of the infrastructures being more tent-like than anything else. Thankfully, though, Mikey's sleeping quarters were in one of the buildings, so he wouldn't have to deal with accommodations that were too cruelly uncomfortable. He knew this because they were all sent in the general direction of their sleeping units upon arriving to be given a tour in smaller numbers.

It was then explained to him, to his great disappointment, that the indoor sleeping units were only temporary, since they prioritized the new arrivals and soon he would no longer be a new arrival. The tents, as uncomfortable as they were, were apparently worlds better than what he would be sleeping in on the battlefield in less than a year.

All of their training would be happening outside, in the nearly thousand acres of land that the base occupied. The officer showing them around then emphasized the importance of teamwork, since it was very easy to get lost in the forest and, later on, in the battlefield.

There was an indoor dining hall, too. Nothing fancy or anything, in fact, they were warned that the food was practically the same thing they'd be eating on the battlefield, just with fresh fruits and vegetables, occasionally, but Mikey's diet had changed so many times in the past month that he didn't really care what he was eating as long as it didn't make him throw up.