3- mothers and guns

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Monday I actually did productive things with my life. Same with Tuesday. And Wednesday.

In my major, I write. A lot. That's what most of my homework is, and since I'm a decent writer, and an even better bullshitter, it's pretty easy for me. The part I hate is having to read books that I have no interest in. I mean, yeah, they're important and all but also boring as hell.

By Thursday, I was dying. I don't have many classes at the end of the week, thanks to my genius scheduling abilities, so it's pretty much like having a long weekend. Only problem is all three of my friends are super busy during the week so I'm usually left alone.

I had just about given up on the week when I got a call from my mom.  She was back in the states after being deployed for over a year, a surprise that definitely made the week a helluva lot better. We scheduled a lunch date for later that day, one that I looked forward to more than anything else.

"Tell me, how much more of a badass are you now, General Davis?" I sipped on my margarita with a smile, admiring the woman sitting across from me. We were sitting in a Mexican restaurant in the middle of downtown, her dressed in what she considered 'casual clothes'. Aka a pantsuit. Her black hair was tied up in a signature tight bun and her tan face was free of makeup, but I thought she looked stunning.

Slouching back in her chair with a margarita of her own, she rolled her eyes.

"Not a badass, Aly. Just a soldier."

"Oh come on! Tell me some stories. I want to live vicariously through your exciting life." I urged her. With another eye roll, she began. It didn't take much prodding. She was always quick to tell me about her adventures. Even when I was growing up as a military brat, moving around from base to base, I still loved to hear her stories. She was the woman I looked up to. The strongest person I had ever met.

"Have you ever seen a spider the size of your head?"

I shook my head.

"I had one in my sleeping bag." She told me, then described every detail of how she eventually got rid of it. Apparently, Qatar wasn't a safe place to go for anyone who was afraid of spiders. Good thing my mother wasn't afraid of anything.

From there, she launched into more stories about nature, and some of the antics the men in her unit would get into. She spared me from mission talk, probably because it wasn't allowed. Even though I loved to hear about all of it, it also made me sad. Because of the job that my mother loved so much, I didn't get to spend nearly as much time with her as I wanted. Just me and my dad for most of my childhood, though he and I were never as close.

After eating, we made our way to the shooting range. It was our tradition. Every time she came home, she challenged me to a shootout. Whoever lost had to buy the next round of drinks. Usually, she demolished me but this time I seemed to be having a good day.

"Impressive. Have you been practicing?" She asked as she examined my paper target. All were within inches of the bullseye.

"Yep, every week." I told her. It was one of mine and Chris's weekly rituals.

My mom smiled before getting her own pistol ready. Through the ear muffs I'd been wearing, I still heard each shot clear as day. Of course, she bested me. Again.

As I examined her target with a frown, my mother discreetly poked me on the shoulder. "That guy's totally checking you out." Her voice was a whisper, and I glanced behind her to see who it was. A red-haired guy wearing flannel was standing by the counter, staring at us. When my eyes met his, he smiled. I turned away and gave my mother a look.

"Not interested." Though I had done well to distract myself today, I still had my sights set on someone else.

"Why not? Cause you've finally realized you're in love with Chris?"

"No, mom. Not gonna happen."

"Oh come on, he's perfect for you. Funny, likes the same things, adventurous, you guys would get along great!"

I rolled my eyes. "Ew, no." He was like a brother to me. Nothing more, ever.

"You'll see it someday, Al."

I was about to respond to her when her phone rang. After looking at the caller id, she shot me an apologetic smile and answered it.

"Yes. I'm with my daughter." A pause. "Right now?" Her eyes went wide with alarm. "Ok, I'll be right there."

She looked at me with a frown. "I'm really sorry, Al, but I have to go. Something's happened at the base."

"It's fine. Do what you need to do."

"Drinks are on me tomorrow night!" She promised. Then she packed up her gun and left.

Not having anything better to do, I reloaded my pistol and set up a new target. With a million thoughts flying through my mind, like missing my mother, I performed badly. Like really badly.

"Where'd your friend go?" I heard a voice behind me, so I turned around to see the flannel guy standing outside of my stall. Taking off my ear muffs and putting down my pistol, I half-smiled at him.

"Work emergency."

The guy nodded, then looked at my gun. "That's a nice Glock you got there. Mind if I try it out?"

I nodded, amused. Leave it to me to get hit on at a shooting range.

Flannel guy picked up my gun and tested the weight of it in his hands. Aiming it down at the target to get a feel for the sights, he suddenly looked back at me.

"Care to make a bet?"


"I saw you two having a shootout earlier. You were really impressive." He put the gun back on the table. "I was hoping I could have a go at it."

I hesitated, not sure if I wanted to have anything to do with this guy. Sure, he was cute enough, but he was nothing compared to Tyler. However, just because I was going after one guy didn't mean I couldn't hang out with others.

"Sure. Let's do it."

Anybody else get along better with guys than girls? I know I sure do

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Anybody else get along better with guys than girls? I know I sure do. Next chapter Aly will confront Tyler :D Thanks for reading!

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