Chapter Eleven
Midterms are the spawn of the devil, good thing I defeated them and saved the world... Kidding... I barely passed...
Sorry for the wait. It's a filler chapter, don't hate me...
"Miss Vasquez why do you wish to join our fine establishment?"
Because I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night to find my throat slit.
"I've always admired the uniform. My neighbor, when I was growing up, was a retired marine and he always spoke fondly about the army."
Yeah, when he wasn't drinking away his sorry 200 lb ass in his cat infested apartment. When and if that man died, I swear, those cats will eat him.
The woman smiled warmly at Jenette. Looking down to her paper pad, she scribbled a few more things. She dismissed her with a hearty handshake, a farewell, and asked her to call in the next interviewee.
Jenette took off. Stopping only to tell the next kid that it was time for his ten minutes in hell.
The moment Jenette walked into that interview, the young woman gestured for her to sit opposite her borderline obsessively organized desk. She then proceeded to ignore Jenette for 9 minutes and 30 seconds while she shuffled around and wrote on papers, after which she asked the cryptic question.
Why.
Jenette knew her answer. She just didn't think the prim proper woman in stilettos and a pant suit would appreciate it. Or even understand it.
She startled Drake, in the cafeteria, when the collapsed beside him on a seat, placing her tray of mystery meat beside his.
He was deep in thought, massaging his head. "So how was your interview." She asked him, amused by his fatigue.
"The man would not shut up." He sighed leaning back against the table. "Kept on talking 'bout how much of a service I would be doing my country by joining up." He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "How 'bout you? Die from internal bleeding yet?"
She grinned. Sarcasm leaking through her pores, she replied in her best wilting flower, southern accent. "And Private Drake we haven't even made it to the battle field yet."
He punched her lightly in the arm. "You haven't answered my question."
"I wish I had your guy, mine just ignored me, I was tempted to stick my feet on her desk, just to see what would happen."
The both sighed and said at the same time, "Military types." Bursting into laughter, they sat down and tried to enjoy some mystery cafeteria food.
I don't really like this chapter, plus I feel like this story is becoming funnier than I previously intended. I think I need to get them outta juvie and put them in the field, might even just skip training camp, lemme see...