Cadet Samantha Carter checked her appearance in the mirror. The French braid. The blue slacks and short sleeve shirt. It seemed strange to almost see all of the people her father had worked with in her reflection.
She was part of the Air Force now. Still just learning, maybe, but Air Force nonetheless.
Her stomach tightened in knots as she glanced down at her schedule for the day. First day of classes, and she was starting in physics.
"Hurry up, Carter! Stop admiring your reflection."
Sam grabbed her cap and threw it on her head, standing tall and proud. "I'm sorry. It's just been a long time coming, you know?"
Morales rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, you've always wanted to be in the Air Force. You're the fifth generation military or something."
Sam considered her grandfather who commanded a battalion of the US Army Air Forces in the European theater during World War II. Thought of her dad, the Brigadier General who now commanded the base they'd moved to just a year or so before her mother had died. Now, she was the next in the line of Air Force officers in her family.
An uncomfortable smile played on Sam's lips as she faced her roommate. "Or something is close enough."
Morales put one hand on her hip. "Well, let me tell you something. Being a woman here isn't going to be a picnic. In fact, your dad probably had an easier time of things when he was at the Academy than you're going to."
Sam just swallowed. Dad had alluded to that a couple of times, but it had always been accompanied with an assurance that she would be just fine if she remembered who she was. "Let me guess, you're not interested in whining?"
"Oh, hell no."
Sam grinned as she got everything she was going to need for class, leaving the map and schedule inside her notebook because she was confident that she'd accurately put them to memory. "Then, we're going to get along just fine."
Morales looked dubious. "We'll see, Carter. We'll see."
A month in, and Sam had never been more exhausted... Or more sure that she was in exactly the right place. Between jump school and the rigor of PT, she was in heaven. Well... almost. Her physics classes were a little disappointing. Most of what they were talking about classes were things she'd researched independently in high school as she prepared her experiments for the science fair each year.
Morales rolled her eyes as she walked in the door of the dorm room. "Oh, please tell me you're writing some lengthy love letter to an old flame you left behind when you came to the Academy."
Sam threw her an amused smile. "I'm studying. As you should be."
Morales quickly unbuttoned the first button on her cadet uniform. "You know, I wasn't expecting this to be a party school or anything, but I'm dying for a beer. Maybe even an ill-advised one night stand."
Sam turned back to her notecards and organized her sources for the paper that was due in her Psychology class next week. "If you don't like the way they do things, why are you here?"
Morales jumped onto her bed. "I'm not saying I don't like the way they do things, Carter. I just want some actual time off. You don't find this a little restrictive?"
Sam stopped flipping through the cards and considered the last few years of her life. "No. Ever since my mother died, this is pretty much what things looked like at home. If anything, I can concentrate a little better on my studies because I'm not so worried about my dad and my brother."
"What's the deal with your dad and brother?"
Sam chewed on the inside of her cheek, not wanting to go into the personal stuff. Not even with her roommate "Doesn't matter. All that matters is that science was my only real escape. So, for better or worse, this is where you're gonna find me pretty much every minute I'm not in class."
Morales shook her head. "If that's true, I'm dragging you to the first party I hear about."
Sam just laughed. "Please don't. Going home for Thanksgiving is going to be all the time off I need."
"Time off where you're going to do what? Write your dissertation seven years early?"
Sam grinned. "Hey, gotta get started some time, right?"
Morales fluffed her pillow before she crashed face down into the pillow. "Not me. I'm gonna sleep for a week straight."
Sam snickered as she turned back to her notes. "Getting in some practice, huh?"
"After the day I just had, you better believe it."
Just as Sam managed to return her attention to her psych notes, however, the phone rang.
Morales groaned and pulled her pillow over her head as Sam tiptoed over to the phone. "Hello?"
"Hey, kid. I thought I'd call and see how you're doing."
Sam dragged the corded phone back to her desk and cupped her hand over the speaker. "Hi, Dad. I'm fine."
"Oh, you're fine. That's all I get?" She could almost see the smile on her dad's face as he teased her. "Sam, I'm a general in the United States Air Force. Do I really have to order you to give me a more detailed report?"
"What do you want to know, Dad?" Her voice was distracted as she glanced behind her at her roommate who attempted a nap. Despite the fact that Sam wasn't much for sleeping during the day—frankly, not much for sleeping at all these days—her roommate was wiser than it appeared. After all, they'd be required to sleep in all sorts of situations over the course of their military careers. At least, Morales was going to be a little better at it than Sam ever would be.
"How are your classes? How many records have you broken in PT? Have you gone on your first jump yet?"
Sam couldn't help but laugh. "What makes you think I'm going to set any records in PT?"
"Sammy, I taught you everything I know before you actually got to the Academy. If you're not setting records now, you will be by the time the Air Force is through training you."
Sam blushed. "Well, there might have been a little something at the shooting range..."
"That's my girl!"
She shrugged off the compliment. "Dad, I appreciate the call, but—"
"The other cadets giving you grief?"
She tensed, not wanting to mention the fact that someone had filled her canteen with vodka a few weeks back. After she'd outperformed all of the other cadets in her platoon on the obstacle course. She'd sputtered on the burning alcohol but pretended that it had gone down the wrong pipe. Then, gotten back up and returned to work. Didn't report the incident to her commanding officer. Having a suspicion that things were going to get a lot worse if she did that.
Though if she hadn't been so determined, she might not have shattered the Academy shooting range score.
She forced a confident smile to her lips. "Nothing I can't handle."
Her father fell silent.
She let the façade crack a little, sensing that perhaps her father needed to feel needed. "But I'll be home for Thanksgiving. That'll be nice, won't it?"
"Of course it will."
But there was a longing in her father's voice that she couldn't ignore. One that she thought had something to do with Mark. Not that he'd ever admit it.
"Maybe you should go out with someone, Dad. Nothing serious. A date or something. Like to the movies."
She winced. No matter how much she wanted her dad to be happy, it felt strange to talk to him about this.
"Do me a favor, kid?"
"Sure, Dad."
He almost laughed. "Never bring up my dating life again. It's not really the kind of thing you want to talk to your daughter about. No matter how grown-up she's getting."
She grinned, relieved that he felt the same way. "Deal."
Then, as if the melancholy twinge had passed, he sounded more upbeat. "Hang in there, kiddo. I'll see you at Thanksgiving."
They exchanged goodbyes before Sam returned to her psych homework. Then, with a sigh, she looked out the window. Thought of meeting Mark at UCLA. How beautiful the campus had been.
For a split second, she wondered if she'd made a mistake.
Then, she remembered looking at herself in the mirror. With her uniform on. Pressed. Tailored. There's my brave girl.
Her mother's voice. In the back of her mind. Encouraging her to press forward.
Sam doubled down. Zeroed in on her reading assignment. She'd be the best cadet she could be. If only so she could still be her mother's brave girl.
That was worth more to her than she could even articulate.
