Born to Fight

I was going to be late. Again. I shoved the last of my clothes into my military duffel bag and fought with the zipper as I glanced at the clock. “Damn it.” First day of school, and I was already running behind. Not that I was particularly excited about being there. If I had to choose between spending another year at Fallon Falls Military Academy and having all my teeth pulled without anaesthetic, I wasn’t entirely sure which option would win. What I hated even more than school, though, was living on campus. It meant being away from Mum. And my dog. After Grandpa died two years ago, Mum was all the family I had left. The thought made my chest tighten. I pushed it away. “Breakfast is ready, honey.” I looked up to find Mum standing in my bedroom doorway, watching me with an amused expression. “I don’t have time for breakfast, Mum.” I wrestled the zipper closed. “I’m going to be late.” “You have five minutes.” “I don’t.” “You do.” “I really don’t.” Tina walked into the room and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’ll drive you. You won’t be late.” I stared at her. She raised an eyebrow. I sighed. I knew when I’d been defeated. “Fine.” I grabbed my duffel bag and followed her downstairs. Mum had already started piling scrambled eggs and bacon onto a plate before I’d even reached the kitchen table. “Eat.” I stared at the plate. Then at her. “You know, one day you might actually say please.” “One day you might actually be on time.” I grinned. “Touché.” I ate as quickly as humanly possible, washed it down with a glass of orange juice, then jumped to my feet. “Shower. Clothes. School.” Mum shook her head as I raced upstairs. “Try not to kill anyone before lunch!” “I make no promises!” Her laughter followed me up the stairs. At seventeen, I was almost a perfect copy of my mother. Small. Lean. Athletic. At least, that’s what everyone said. There was one major exception. My black hair and green eyes came from Mum. Everything else? Apparently, I looked remarkably like the father I’d never known. I hated that. Not because I had ever met him. I hadn’t. I’d never even seen a photograph. But I’d spent my entire life wondering who he was. And why I hadn’t been worth sticking around for. ⸻ The drive to Fallon Falls Military Academy was quiet. I stared out the window, watching the familiar scenery pass by, occasionally glancing at Mum. At thirty-six, she was still ridiculously beautiful. She was fit, toned and barely needed makeup. Sometimes she looked younger than I did. Mum lived by discipline. She ran every morning. She worked out every day. Rain, heat, cold—it didn’t matter. Growing up, I’d trained alongside her and Grandpa. Running. Strength training. Martial arts. Shooting. Tracking. Navigation. They’d taught me things most kids my age didn’t know existed. The Academy taught many of those same skills, but Mum and Grandpa had started my training years before I’d ever set foot inside a classroom. They’d been preparing me for a military career. Just like them. Mum worked in Military Intelligence, a career that demanded almost everything from her. Yet somehow, she’d still managed to raise me alone. My father had disappeared before I’d even been born. From what I’d been told, he was a military man Mum had been involved with. Apparently, when he’d discovered she was pregnant, he’d walked away. Just like that. No goodbye. No explanation. Nothing. For years, I’d told myself I didn’t care. I didn’t need him. I certainly didn’t want him. But that was a lie. Somewhere deep inside me was a seventeen-year-old girl who still wondered why her own father hadn’t wanted her. And no matter how many times I pretended otherwise, that rejection still hurt. “Celeste?” I looked over. Mum was watching me. “You okay?” “Yeah.” She gave me the look. The Mum look. “You’re thinking too much.” “I’m always thinking.” “That’s what worries me.” I laughed. The Academy appeared in the distance. My stomach immediately sank. Home for another year. Or prison with better uniforms. When Mum pulled up outside the main building, I grabbed my duffel bag from the back seat. I leaned through the passenger door and wrapped my arms around her. “I’ll see you Friday.” “You will.” She hugged me tightly before pulling back. “And Celeste?” I knew that tone. “What?” “No fights this year.” I smiled innocently. “I never start them.” “That’s not what I asked.” “I mean, technically—” “Celeste.” I laughed. “Okay. No fights.” Mum’s expression softened, but there was something else in her eyes. Something I didn’t understand. “Good girl.” I grabbed my bag and climbed out. “Love you.” “Love you too.” I shut the door and watched her car disappear before turning toward the Academy. I had no idea that it would be the last normal goodbye I’d have with my mother for a very long time. ⸻ By the time English rolled around after lunch, I was ready to escape through the nearest window. I stared at the clock. Four minutes had passed. Four. How was that even possible? I sighed and dropped my head onto my hand. Mrs MacGregor, our new English teacher, continued talking. She was impossible to ignore. Mostly because of her platinum-blonde hair, expensive clothes and the irritating habit she had of playing with her bangs every time she spoke. “Okay, class.” The room fell silent. Mrs MacGregor picked up a large bowl from her desk. “I’m going to come around the classroom. When I reach you, I want you to take one card. Only one.” That got everyone’s attention. She moved from desk to desk. One by one, students reached into the bowl. When she reached me, I pulled out a card. I turned it over. A name. A rank. An email address. Chief Petty Officer Jamie Fox. I frowned. Who the hell was Jamie Fox? “Does everyone have a card?” A chorus of yeses filled the room. Mrs MacGregor returned to the front. “Excellent. The person on your card will be your pen pal for the duration of the school year.” My eyebrows shot up. Pen pal? With a stranger? Apparently, my teacher had completely lost her mind. “This exercise will give you the opportunity to communicate directly with someone currently working within the military,” Mrs MacGregor continued. “You’ll be able to ask questions, learn about their experiences and gain a first-hand understanding of military life.” She smiled. “Take it seriously. You may be surprised by what you learn.” I looked down at my card. Talking to strangers online. Wasn’t that exactly what parents and police warned teenagers not to do? My mother had been giving me the stranger-danger speech since I was five. And now my English teacher was practically ordering me to email one. Fantastic. If I ended up murdered, kidn*pped or stuffed into someone’s basement, I was blaming Mrs MacGregor. At least Mum could sue the school. That thought made me smile. ⸻ That afternoon, I sat at my desk in the dorm room, staring at the card. Chief Petty Officer Jamie Fox. I picked it up. Put it down. Picked it up again. What exactly was I supposed to say? Hi, I’m Celeste. I’m seventeen. Here’s a bunch of personal information about myself. Please don’t be a serial killer. Probably not the best opening. I sighed. After my shower, I found myself staring at the card again. Apparently, curiosity had defeated common sense. I opened my laptop. My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then I started typing. Dear Chief Petty Officer Fox, First of all, hi. My name is Celeste Avery, and I’m a student at Fallon Falls Military Academy. Normally, I make it a strict rule never to talk to strangers online. Especially military strangers. Actually, especially any strangers. My mother has spent my entire life warning me about people on the internet, and I’ve watched enough true-crime shows to know that this is generally where the bad decisions begin. So, naturally, my English teacher has decided that making a classroom full of teenagers email complete strangers is an excellent educational exercise. I’m not convinced. In fact, I’ve narrowed down her motives to three possibilities: 1. She doesn’t watch true crime. 2. She secretly hates our class. 3. She is attempting to get us all kidn*pped. I’m hoping it’s number one. Apparently, I’m supposed to use this opportunity to learn what it’s like to work in the military, so I suppose I should at least try. So… Which branch of the military do you serve in? How long have you been in? Did you always know you wanted a military career? And, most importantly, are you actually a normal human being or should I be warning the authorities? Okay. Maybe leave that last one out. I’m joking. Mostly. Anyway, I apologise if this email is a little strange. I’ve never done anything like this before, and I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to say to someone I’ve never met. If this goes horribly wrong, though, I’m blaming Mrs MacGregor. Fair warning. Wishing you well, wherever you are. Regards, Celeste Avery I read it twice. Then once more. My finger hovered over the send button. “Come on, Celeste.” I clicked. Sent. I immediately closed the laptop. That was it. Done. I pushed away from the desk and headed downstairs toward the mess hall. I had no idea what I expected to happen next. I certainly wasn’t expecting a reply. And I definitely wasn’t expecting Chief Petty Officer Jamie Fox to become the most important person I’d ever meet. Because sometimes, the smallest decisions are the ones that change everything.