Chapter 3
It had only cooled off a little as the sun began to go down, but it felt pretty good going down the road on his bike, ignoring the speed limit signs. It didn't hurt that he'd traded in that uncomfortable, bland cadet uniform for a black t-shirt and jeans. His helmet was strapped to the back, and the wind felt cool on his face as he drove back towards the academy. Too many things were on his mind as he drove to allow him to completely enjoy the trip. He mulled over whether he would keep taking the class. Bower had certainly tried to make him look like an idiot, probably because he was mostly in the dark. Bower had been informed that Isaac was taking the class under special circumstances, but that was the extent of his knowledge, and it probably bothered him to have a mystery sitting in his classroom. Isaac couldn't exactly hold that against him. Still, Isaac O'Neill, even if he did try to differentiate his new life from Jack's, had quite a bit in common with the old General. He wasn't going to be bullied, nor would he give up easily.
The primary question was should he even be going to see this girl. Regardless of any attraction, he knew he had to find out if she knew anything. If by some chance someone had leaked information out about who he was, it could cause serious problems for him and for Jack. He could deal with his own problems, but he couldn't let anything happen to Jack because of him. It was Jack who'd asked Thor to save his life. He decided it was more likely that she, an eager cadet, had met General O'Neill at some speech or lecture they'd suckered him into giving at the academy, and she had merely noticed a likeness between them. Still, there was something nagging him about her. He had the vague feeling in the back of his mind that he should know her.
When he parked his bike it was about five minutes till seven, and he hoped he could remember where Arnold Hall was. It had been a while since he'd spent much time at the Academy, or since Jack had rather. He often reminded himself, whenever reminiscing about anything, that the memories weren't his. It was his mantra as he attempted to reinvent, or even just invent, himself, another reason for taking the class. After walking around for several minutes he was finally forced to ask a passing cadet for directions. At five minutes after seven he approached the front entrance to Arnold Hall. He walked inside to the noise of cadets playing games, eating, watching movies, and just sitting around talking. It was definitely busy, and he noticed that he stuck out as he appeared to be one of the few in civilian clothes. He looked around, searching the area. This place had changed a lot since last time he'd been here. The noise quickly got on his nerves. He was used to quiet nights at home pouring over mission plans, ship specs, and personnel files. In the madness of all these cadets he began to wonder how he'd find her, especially since he didn't even know her name.
He saw her then, emerging from a crowd of people spread across chairs and sofas, watching a movie. She gave him a broad smile with her red lips and waved. He gave her a grin and slid his hands into his pockets as he walked over to her. She was also in civilian clothes now and that meant she was in one of the higher classes. Her dark red hair, previously pinned up beneath the blue air force hat, now fell halfway down her back, and a few wayward strands fell across her lightly freckled face. A dark green, short-sleeve blouse, and blue jeans were even more flattering in accentuating her soft curves than her cadet's uniform. Calm down there, Isaac. That's all Jack needs is to hear you've gone and developed a weakness for redheads. He smiled to himself. Jack doesn't care for much for redheads, and Isaac realized he was just the opposite. That was encouraging.
He watched her walking towards him, trying to force his mind to convince his body that she wasn't as attractive as she was. It didn't really work. Damn it, he should know her. Damn, he did know her. His stomach fell, and his heart beat hard and fast in his chest. "Oh, my God," he said under his breath, and shook his head with a quiet, empty laugh. How blind could he be?
She was standing in front of him now and offered her hand. "I'm glad you came, Isaac."
He wiped his now sweaty palm on his jeans and shook her hand tentatively. He forced himself to look into her eyes. "Cassandra?"
Her grin grew bigger, and she blushed. "So, he did tell you about me."