Diary of a Teenaged Mimic

Dear Diary,

I forgot to ask Marie for a bath yesterday or the day before. Pumpkin spice or not, I didn’t want to reek on my Devotional day out, so I caught her during breakfast and asked her to bring one up after dinner. She just nodded. When I got back to the ROTC table, Saffron stared at me, an odd look on her face.

”What’s up, Saff?”

She mouthed a confused ’Saff?’ before replying. ”You, with the bathing, and the perfume. You realize the whole reason Phileo Heroic doesn’t have modern plumbing and other amenities is to get the rich kids used to roughing it, right?”

Angel chuckled. ”Plenty of houses in Camden Yards don’t have those things either, Saff.”

She glanced at Angel before turning back to me. ”Goddess save me, it looks like you’ve started a trend.”

I shrugged. ”I like being clean. I spent way too much time dirty as a kid.”

”So what are you gonna do if we’re out on a multi-day patrol in no man’s land?”

I thought about it while shoveling another couple eggs in my mouth. After swallowing I said, ”probably see if I can find a clean stream or pool or something.”

”So you’ll just strip down in front of everybody and give them all a show?” Before I could reply, she answered herself, rolling her eyes heavenward as she did. ”Wait, no, forgot who I’m talking to. Of course you will. No shame at all, you.”

”Hey, you’ve seen the show already. Tell me one thing I’ve got to be ashamed of?”

I got to enjoy her going more than a little pink as she tried not to choke on a sausage and the other two broke out laughing. Just to mess with her I picked up one of the finger-sized sausages and swallowed it whole. The effort to do so without gagging was well worth it, as she lost another few seconds to goggling and spluttering.

”You have no shame at all,” she repeated.

”So... I’m supposed to be ashamed because I don’t have any shame? That doesn’t make any sense at all. Why would I want shame?”

She just shook her head and turned back to eating, trying to finish her breakfast before we spotted duBois getting ready to head up.

When we got out to the Practice Yard, I pulled the team together for a few moments and laid out my new plan for the day. Saffron looked dubious, but Angel laughed when she heard my suggestion. Most importantly, Bill nodded and said, ”yeah, let’s try that. If duBois doesn’t stop us, it’ll definitely give us an edge.”

When the man himself, who as usual beat us to the Yard, called everyone to order and had a couple kids bring the Squadball gear out, we waited until everyone else had their headbands on and got into position before moving for the pile of headbands. Each of us picked up three headbands and put them on before heading to our quadrant. The other three teams looked at duBois, but the only thing he said was, ”begin!” The lights came up and everyone dashed for the balls.

Everyone except Lancaster. Of course. He screamed out, ”they’re cheating! That’s cheating! That’s not fair!”

DuBois’ voice echoed through the Yard over our grunts of exertion and pain. ”If this were Physical Training, where we might play games sometimes, sure. But because you’ve forgotten, this is Combat Training. You think some Amsterdam Hero is going to play nice because he knows defense, offense, and healing while you only know one of those?”

I lost track of whatever reply Lancaster tried to make; odd, because I’d been rushing his team’s quadrant specifically to hammer him square in the chest with a ball. I don’t know if I hit or not, because at the end of my jump one of the headbands slipped loose and fell down over my eyes. I still threw blind, and from Lancaster’s squawk I hit something, but without sight I couldn’t dodge very well, and a ball hammered into my shin. I dropped, another ball tugging at my hair as I did. I played dead, and a moment later Angel lifted me onto my feet; I sprinted back for our quadrant, shoving my headbands back as I did.

Bill and Saffron had the same problem I did, with one of the headbands slipping lose now and again. It eventually cost me when one slipped right after I threw, and Larry managed to hit me while I couldn’t see, then hit me again when I’d barely hit the ground.

Not every super cool plan goes the way I intend, I guess.