Finally.

I was finally accepted.

I had been applying and applying for years, and every time the form was sent back with a large red 'DENIED' stamp over all of my information.

Until today.

I, Eve Anne Riforth, was accepted.

The bar was unusually crowded, crammed with regular customers and new faces. I could have sworn I saw a man carrying his little girl out the door. People were tussling and shouting, but then some were calmly enjoying a red wine or two before departing. One woman, who was a frequent visitor, slammed her glass on the table in a drunken rage and half slurred, half shouted at me for a shot of tequila. A bulky male- who I assumed was her boyfriend—swung an arm around her shoulders and asked for a cup of vodka.

I sighed. "Right away, Taylor." I retrieved the bottles from the shelf on the wall behind me and poured the alcohol. "Here you go. Remember- it's fifty cents per every refill and a dollar for the tequila because it's expensive." She snatched the glass off of the bar and downed it like a scruffy Aussie would when they returned from the outback.

"Gimmeh anothah one, bahr laydee."

I roll my eyes and refill the small cup. "You should stop after that, Tay. You need to get home without dying." She paused her drinking and poured the remaining drink on the bar.

"I can stop whenevvah ah wahnt, laydee."

At that, she collapsed on the disgusting floor of the pub and left her boyfriend with her unconscious body. I slipped into the back room and found a clean bar rag to sop up the leftover tequila.

Once that job was done, the digital clock on the ancient TV ticked to midnight.

"Alright, you drunken messes- sorry, Adam, I know you're 'too sophisticated to get drunk'- closing time is upon us! CLEAR OUT! You don't have to go home but you can't stay here!"

One by one, the customers filed out of the building and I sighed with relief.

Two in the afternoon to midnight is too long of a shift, I thought.

I pulled into my small driveway and turned off the saddest excuse for a car that my money could buy. My mailbox was barely visible in the dark- thank god for the car that passed just before I crossed the road. When I reached the black half-cylinder, the side was miraculously smashed in. I muttered something that was inaudible for me even, and I opened the box. There was a single unmarked manila envelope. I grabbed it and walked back to my house.

'You have been accepted into the battle. Congratulations.

You will participate on the BLU team.

Based on your personal information and your resume, you have been chosen to fill the class of Scout.

Your uniform and weapons will be presented to you upon your arrival.

You will be equipped with these weapons:

Scattergun

Pistol

Aluminum Baseball Bat

This information is not to be shared with ANYONE. We suggest you plan an elaborate lie to tell any close acquaintances where you are going. The BLU team is offense, and if you cannot operate as such, we do not need you in the war. Transportation will be provided three mornings after you receive this packet. A signed contract is required from you. You shall give that to the driver. The vehicle will be a blue Toyota. Remember, share this information with NO ONE, and welcome to the BLU team.'

I squealed with joy at the paper I held in my hand.

"FINALLY!" I plopped myself on the musty couch in the living room and laughed out of pure delight. The paper fell out of my hand and onto my face. I noticed I had missed something while reading.

'-THIS TEXT IS NOT INCLUDED IN ITHER FORMS.-Women are not usually on the battlefield. You will need to keep your identity secret. However, if you prove yourself worthy within the time slot of your contract, you may reveal your identity in THE MOST DISCREET WAY POSSIBLE. We recommend you keep this between you and the Administrator. If you are not willing to agree, then we do not need you.'

My heart sank.

This is going to be extremely difficult.

"You got a different job? That's GREAT!" My mother tackled me in a bear hug. I bite my lip to try and refrain myself from making the lie seem obvious. "Where is it? Where are you going?"

I pull back from her grip. "It's in France. I got a job as airport security. The army school I went to looked good on my resume to them. It's a shame I never used it until now." I shrugged and placed the last of my things in my suitcase.

"We'll all miss you. Be sure to write or call!" She smiled widely and I nodded.

The phone rang. I sighed in relief.

"I should get going so you can take that. I love you dear. Have fun in France." Mom hugged me again and left my bedroom. I picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey! It's Jess. I hear you are moving to France?"

Jessica's overly peppy voice flowed through the phone. "Yeah. Got a job as airport security. But listen, I have to go. I'm leaving in a few minutes. I'll write often."

"Okay. Love ya, Eevee." She hung up and the dial tone sounded.

I spotted a light blue Toyota round the corner and stop in front of my former house. I slipped my fedora over my ponytail, grabbed my seemingly small bag (consisting of only absolute necessities), and walked out.

Inside the car was a tall, thin man with, I have to say, epic sideburns. He looked about as depressed as I was when I found out I was going nowhere after college.

I opened the rusty door and climbed into the back seat. The man drove away and I watched my house disappear behind the trees.

"Sheila, I'll be need'n yer papers." The man spoke with a heavy Australian accent. I dug in my bag and handed it to him. He looked it over quickly and continued driving from Ohio to South Dakota.

"You can call me Mr. Mundy 'r Snoipah, Whicheva's to yer fancy."

"Alright," I paused to think of a name for myself, "You can call me Jordan."

"Gotcha."

This is going to be a long journey.