Graceful Waters

DAY THREE

“Stop hogging the mirror, Waters."

"Bite me, Rosetti," Grace said, checking her appearance and adjusting her collar. "I'll be damned if I'm going to do any more pushups today."

"Just our luck she's in charge of Bravo Squad," Latisha said, tucking her shirt into her pants. "I'd rather have Donaldson than Scary Carey. Grace, how do I look?"

"Like a Hershey Kiss reject," Grace said, moving away from the mirror. "But you shouldn't get any hits."

"Don't worry," Jan said. "Scary will find something, she always does."

Someone outside yelled for formation. "More fun at Sapling Hill," Grace deadpanned. "Time to face the queen bitch."

The noon sun was bright, forcing Grace to squint as the instructors moved through the rows. Suddenly the sun was gone, eclipsed by her nemesis. "Think that bunk of yours will pass today, Waters?"

"Yes, ma'am," she said, seeing a distorted image of herself in Carey's mirrored sunglasses.

"We'll see," Carey said. Grace waited endless seconds before the instructor moved on.

"All right, ladies, we're going to take a little run today," Instructor Gage said. Groans went up within the crowd. "What's that? You want two miles instead of one?" Grace rolled her eyes, unaware that the ones hidden behind mirrored sunglasses were watching her.

"Waters, drop for twenty!" Instructor Carey said as she came storming over. "You have a problem, Waters?"

"No, ma'am," Grace said, unhappily noting the instructor she despised was now only inches from her, black boots shining from the early morning sun. The temptation was there to spit and ruin that perfect shine but Grace knew the consequences would be most unfortunate for her.

"I'm tired of you interrupting formation," Carey said. "Now what's your problem?"

"Didn't get...any sleep last night, ma'am. Campbell wouldn't stop snoring."

"And you don't think it's fair that we're going to make you run and do all the other things scheduled for today because you didn't get your beauty rest, is that it? Do you think Mr. Employer is going to care that you didn't get a good night's sleep?"

"No, ma'am."

"Getting your sleep interrupted is a fact of life, Waters," Carey said.

"We all have to do things we don't want to do, including going to work after a rough night." The boots moved out of Grace's vision. "And for those of you that are keeping your bunkmates up, I suggest you report to the infirmary for those nose strips before someone decides to give you a pillow party."

Grace stood up, wiping the small stones from her hands as the instructors began inspecting their squads. Straightening her shirt, Grace looked forward as Instructor Carey came into view. Just keep walking, bitch. My shirt is ironed, my belt is straight. There's nothing you can give me a hit for.

"Waters, two hits. Crooked hat, laces touching the ground."

"Pick up a workbook and take a seat, I don't care where," Instructor Donaldson said as they entered the room. Grace took one of the soft-cover books and headed for the back corner of the room, the place where she was least likely to draw attention. "We're starting with Chapter One," the tall blonde instructor said. "If this part seems easy or familiar to you, keep working ahead. If it seems too hard, you might want to think about going to the remedial math class, but your tests scores all indicate you should be able to handle this level of math. Here are the rules. You will have homework, every night. I expect that homework to be done. No excuses, no exemptions."

While the instructor they called Viking was talking, Grace opened the workbook and looked at the problems. Oh please. I knew this stuff in ninth grade. She began filling in the answers, finishing the chapter in just a few minutes. Out of boredom, she started working on Chapter Two when she heard her name called. "Yes, ma'am?"

"What's an integer?"

"Any whole number, ma'am."

"Can a fraction be an integer?"

"No, ma'am."

"Can negative seven be an integer?"

"Yes, ma'am." Oh please move on to someone else.

"Very good. I see you paid attention in at least one of your classes."

Instructor Donaldson turned her attention to Latisha, allowing Grace to go back to filling in answers in the workbook.

"Sit down," Carey said as Grace entered the room. "I read your essay. The only thing you want to get out of this experience is to do your time so you can get back to...let's see..." She looked down at the paper. "Oh yes, running your life. You think you've been doing a pretty good job so far?"

"When I'm left alone, yes, ma'am."

"Really?" Carey leaned back in her chair and laced her fingers together. "How much money do you have in the bank?"

Grace shook her head. "None, ma'am."

"Own any real estate?"

"No, ma'am."

"Extremely rich relatives to which you are sole heir?"

"No, ma'am."

Carey's eyes burned into Grace. "You're giving me a great deal of no's. Tomorrow I want you to tell me the positives. What you have managed to accomplish."

"Yes, ma'am."

"What do you want out of life, Waters?"

Grace focused on the crystal egg sitting in the front center of the instructor's desk. "To be left alone, ma'am."

"And how do you plan on accomplishing that?"

Grace shrugged. "Once I'm out of here, I'll get a place of my own and do what I want."

"You'll need a job to pay for it," Carey said. "That means you'll be working for someone else. Not going to be left alone that way."

“I'll start my own business so I don't have to answer to anyone else, ma'am."

Carey leaned back in her seat. "You think that's so, hmm?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You'll have customers to answer to, suppliers, employees, bankers, the list goes on and on."

"I'll figure something out, ma'am."

"Until you do, get used to answering to other people," Carey said. “You were a peer tutor?"

"Yes, ma'am," Grace said, surprised by the change in subject.

"Two years," Carey said. "You didn't sign up for it when you became a junior, why?"

Grace paused, thinking through her answer before speaking. "I didn't feel like it, ma'am."

"You didn't feel like attending class or doing homework either," Carey said. "Started skipping classes the first week."

What? Do you have a day-by-day report of my life? "Yes, ma'am."

"You missed two days as a freshman and none as a sophomore. See a pattern here?"

Still staring at the egg, Grace shrugged. "I was sick, ma'am."

"I doubt that," Carey said. "So what happened between tenth and eleventh grade?"

"Nothing. I just decided I didn't like school anymore, ma'am."

"Look at me," Carey said. "I have a feeling school had little or nothing to do with it. I took a closer look at your grades. You aced almost every test but never turned in homework and skipped classes, that's why you failed so many courses." The instructor let out a breath and reached for paper and a pen. "All right, we'll do it this way. Since you can't come up with any productive goals, we'll come up with some together. Goal number one."

Oh great, Grace thought to herself. Why didn't I just put some bullshit on that paper instead? "To do better in school, ma'am," she said.

"Let's be a bit more specific," Carey said. "You'll get your GED."

"What?" she yelped.

"You heard me," Carey said. "And you owe me ten. Try again. Goal number one?"

"To get my GED, ma'am," she said, looking down at the egg again. Fuck. I can't believe I did that. Ten pushups for forgetting ma 'am.

"Goal number two?"

Grace thought about it but came up with nothing. "I don't know, ma'am."

"Forget about academics. Your mouth and your attitude get you in trouble, so goal number two will be to learn how to deal with situations in an appropriate manner. By the way, sixth period on your B schedule will be Anger Management."

"I don't need anger management, ma'am."

"Oh yes you do," Carey said. "You're looking at me right now like you'd like to come over this desk at me and you're going to say you don't need Anger Management?"

"I just need to be left alone, ma'am."

"Which isn't going to happen, so you'd better learn to deal with it," Carey said. "Sit up. Are you going to slouch in your boss's office?"

"No, ma'am," Grace said as she straightened up.

"Then don't think of doing it here."

Grace put her face under the stream, rinsing off the dirt of the day.

"I'm telling ya, Jan. If Campbell and Grenner didn't go get those nose things, I'm going to kill them myself."

"I'll help," Jan said, soaping her upper body. "You didn't grab your razor."

"Naw," Grace said. "My hair doesn't grow that fast. I won't need to shave my pits for a few days."

"Speaking of shaving, did you see Rosetti?"

Hitting the shampoo dispenser, Grace pushed a healthy amount onto her hand. "No. What about her?"

"She's bald down there. Shaves it all off."

"Why bother?" Grace asked.

"Maybe she doesn't like getting her hand covered with short and curlies," Jan said.

"Hey, girls."

"Hey, Latisha," Grace said as the younger teen stepped up to the shower next to her.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," Jan said. "Just talking about Rosetti and her bald spot."

"I shaved there once," Latisha said. "Itched like hell when it grew back in."

Grace looked at the area in question. "You've got the Black Forest going on there. What'd you use, a lawn mower?" Jan laughed while Latisha flipped her the middle finger. "Just kidding," she said, putting her soapy head under the water. The chatter died down as others entered and the sound of running water increased. Make sure no one notices, she thought as she covertly stole glances of the other girls, making them brief and infrequent for fear her guilty pleasure would be discovered. Ever since she'd found a magazine left around by one of her mother's boyfriends, Grace had found breasts fascinating. Of course, it was not something she would ever admit to anyone else, nor would she ever speak of just how good a shower felt on her nipples. Adjusting her position, Grace closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of the pelting water. Maybe I can sneak into the bathroom for a little while, she thought, rinsing the rest of the soap from her body before she became too aroused. She would have wished for more time but Jan and Latisha shut off their showers within seconds of each other, forcing her to reluctantly do the same.