(Matteo's PoV)

    Sgt. Blake came storming into the barracks shouting, "Recruits." It was all a big mess trying to get in a straight line and salute. Logan and Will even ran into each other.

    Sgt. Blake rolled his eyes and muttered something to himself. "At ease," he told us.

    Our line quickly turned into a half circle shaped thing. Will, who was clutching his forehead, came over and stood by me. "What do you think is going on?" he whispered.

    "Matteo, what did you do?" Trevor asked.

    "What do you mean, what did I do?" I retorted.

    Clayton shrugged. "We figured Sgt. Blake came in here cuz he was mad at you. You know, since you're always in trouble."

    "I am not always in troub-"

    "Matteo, shut up," Sgt. Blake shouted. "You're cleaning lockers tomorrow night. "

    I scowled at Clayton, Trevor, and Logan, who were trying to suppress their laughter.

    "Sorry, it's not funny," Logan apologized, still smiling. "It's just..."

    "Ironic," Trevor guessed.

    "Bad timing," Clayton tried.

    "A set of unfortunate occurrences controlled by a man who does not enjoy your presence," Logan decided.

Daniel kept his voice low. "Cleaning lockers isn't all that bad," he told me. "And all of you, shhh."

I folded my arms, extremely annoyed by the fact that Sgt. Blake even came in here in the first place.

"We're going to have a new workout," he announced.

The room went tense. No one had any idea what it was, or if it was better or worse than running laps and lifting weights.

"Tomorrow morning we are going to start our swimming unit."

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest. Finally we were going to do something that I was good at. I had been on swim team since I was nine. It's actually where I had met Emmy. But swimming was something I was very good at. I took third in state for the 100 free and 2nd for the 100 back last year. I couldn't wait to see Sgt. Blake's reaction to me being able to handle everything he threw at me.

Connor and Aaron exchanged nervous glances. They were probably worried that I could beat them at something.

"You'll pick up your swimsuits tomorrow morning at 0545," Sgt. Blake told us before leaving.

"Wow, you sure are smiling," Will observed.

"I love swimming," I gushed. "It's my favorite activity. I'm finally gonna like something about Basic Training."

"That's great," Will said. "I'm not particularly great at it, but at least I know how."

"Well yeah," I replied. "What idiot doesn't know how to swim?"

    Connor glared at me and I felt pride at the thought that he was scared to race me.

    I was unable to contain myself. I had to write to Emmy before lights out. I grabbed a pencil and paper from the bag underneath my bed.

    Dear Emmy,

        I'm in trouble again, but not even that can kill my mood. I just found out that we're gonna start swimming tomorrow. I'm actually gonna be good at Basic Training for once. I'm really excited, not just for the actual swimming though. A lot of the guys here think I'm this fuck-up who's always causing trouble and can never do anything right. Being good at something might not change their minds, but it might help me not listen to them. I really miss you.

                        Love,

                            Matteo

(Aaron's PoV)

    I was shaking the entire time as I put on my swimsuit. There's no way I can do this, I thought to myself. If I went underwater, I was going to drown. I weighed 182 pounds, there was just no way I could float.

    In Basic Training they already expected that you knew how to swim. Sgt. Blake told us to split up into lanes of four and do a 500 freestyle for a warm up--whatever the hell that meant.

    I was with Connor, Sean, and Alan. We approached the side of the pool, which was labeled 12 feet. I gulped nervously. That was twice as tall as I was.

    Sean jumped in eagerly and Connor and Alan went in after him. My heart was racing too fast to ignore. Nevertheless I sat down at the edge and placed my foot on the surface. I cringed and shifted in the slightest way, although the water on the edge caused me to slip and fall in.

    I was completely underwater. I was going to sink. I desperately flailed around, trying to get to the top, but the cold water consumed me. I was suddenly nine again, having my head dunked in a kiddie pool by Connor's older brother, Jordan. I attempted to breathe, but that only caused me to get water in my lungs.

    Connor grabbed my arm and helped pull me to the surface. I gasped for air, coughing and sputtering. Connor's muscles were tense. He didn't need to ask me if I was all right, he knew I wasn't.

    "What? No comment about how fire and water clash?" Alan laughed at his own joke.

    Connor scowled, but thankfully didn't try to hurt him. I didn't think I'd have been able to hold him back. My hands were too occupied with keeping an iron grip on the side of the pool.

    "What's wrong?" Sean asked.

    "I just don't know how to swim," I admitted.

    "You mean you never learned?" He tilted his head to the side in confusion. "I learned when I was little."

    "Yeah well I have no intention of learning," I snapped at him. I felt bad for lashing out at him. I just couldn't wrap my head around how he was floating. "I hate water," I explained. "It scares me."

    Sean still looked puzzled. "You mean big kids can be afraid of things too?"

    I felt my skin turning as red as my hair. "Yeah, some are."

    Sean stopped floating and pulled over to the side with me. "I wanna help," he told me.

    "You don't need to," I tried to say, although my words trailed off as I looked down towards the bottom of the pool.

    "But you promised to protect me in the dark." His expression was one of seriousness. Before I could ask him what he was doing, he climbed out of the pool and made his way over to the timing table. He managed to go unnoticed by Sgt. Blake though. That was likely cuz he was too busy watching Matteo, trying to find something he was doing wrong.

    On the table there was a large digital timing clock. Sean looked at it for a few moments then took a deep breath. Then, in one fluid motion, he pushed the clock off the table, shattering it into several pieces.

    Connor and I looked at each other with open mouths and wide eyes, shocked at Sean's actions. What could he have possibly done that for?

    Well, that certainly caught Sgt. Blake's attention. He started shouting at Sean, who cowered underneath his large stature. He grabbed Sean's arm, causing him to wince, but by some miracle he managed not to cry.

    Sgt. Blake dragged Sean along and whispered something to Lt. Jason. He then forcibly took Sean to another room.

    "All right, I'm in charge," Lt. Jason announced. "If you need me, I'll be over there reading magazines."

    It was all starting to come together. Sean had purposefully gotten himself in trouble just so I didn't have to swim.

    I was grateful to be spending my time above water, rather than in it, but I couldn't stop worrying about Sean.

    He didn't show up at lunch or dinner. I didn't see him at all until "wind down" time, and when he returned he kept switching between rubbing his eyes and his arms.

    "What happened?" I asked.

    "Sgt. Blake's mad so he's making me do extra hard workouts," he responded, wincing through his words. "He's having me lift twice my bodyweight."

    "That's horrible," I choked out.

    "I'll be fine though," he added before heading to bed.

    I sat at the foot of my bed and put my head in my hands. I'm such a wimp. Sean was being punished because I was too big of a coward to face the water.

    Connor sat down next to me. "What's wrong?"

    "I can't believe Sean did that for me," I explained. "It's like I'm exploiting his kindness."

    "Don't take it personally," Connor told me. "It was his idea after all."

    "I guess so." Although that didn't make me feel any better.

(Connor's PoV)

    I sat with Aaron on the side of the pool. He was still nervous about being near water, but he was much more comfortable on the outside than in.

    Lt. Jason didn't care too much about the workouts. Sgt. Blake had written sets of drills for us to work on today, but Lt. Jason didn't enforce them. He just told us to swim--and even that was a loose order. He only looked up from his "Sports Illustrated" every ten or so minutes just to make sure no one was dead.

    A bunch of guys were holding onto the side while talking. Ned and a couple of the others were just splashing around. The choir boys had even started to play Marco Polo. The only person actually swimming was Matteo.

    Figures. Leave it to him to be working the one time we didn't actually have to.

    He was showing off, that's what  he was doing. He had to prove he was the best even though no one cared.

    Aaron looked at him apprehensively and moved back a couple of inches. I hated seeing him like this. He was my best friend and it killed me to know he was scared. I had seen this multiple times before; at our 5th grade end of the year pool party, when my brother would spray him with the hose or push him in the plastic pool.

    I just wanna murder anyone who hurts him.

    I scoffed upon looking at Matteo for too long. "God, I hate him." Aaron shrugged awkwardly, but I went on. "He's mocking you and you know it."

    "Maybe I deserve it," he mumbled. "Although he does seem to be enjoying that he can beat us in something athletic for once."

    That was an understatement.

    "I just don't get how he can do that," he continued. His voice was shaking and he shifted his gaze a lot. "Why doesn't anyone else see how easy it is to drown?"

    By dinner, Aaron was much happier to be in the cafeteria, where the only water was in plastic cups. He looked around for Sean, but he was nowhere to be found.

    "Do you think Sgt. Blake might not be feeding him?" he asked.

    "Nah," I responded. "He's probably just bringing food to the weight room."  In all honesty, I did think Sgt. Blake was starving Sean, but I figured that would make Aaron feel worse, so I didn't say a thing.

    While in line, Aaron and I had been so caught up in our conversation that we forgot silverware. When we noticed, Aaron went up to the front to get two pairs. I kept mainly to myself in his short absence. There wasn't anyone in the room who I actually liked talking to besides him.

    From the table behind me, I could hear Matteo's loud, accented voice bragging to his friends. "The swimming workouts are so easy. I don't understand why everybody else can't do them--especially the people who claim to be so strong."

    Aaron noticed my clenched fists when he got back. "What's wrong?"

    "Nothing," I replied. "Just Matteo being stupid."

    "Well what's new," he half joked.

    "Yeah, you're right," I agreed. Matteo's brain was even smaller than his muscles. I shouldn't have even listened to him. But I did, and I wanted to pound his face in for the comment he made.

(Landon's PoV)

    After our swimming session was done, we went back to our regular routine of morning laps around the track. The hour and a half seemed much longer and harder since the majority of us hadn't done any work in the past three days.

    We then made our way to the gym, like usual, but Sgt. Blake stopped us. "We're not going there yet," he said. He directed us through several hallways and led us to a room that we had never seen before.

    The floor was a dull beige color and there was a whiteboard at the front. In neat columns and rows there were thirty desks--the kind where the top flips open. It looked like a classroom.

    This was going to be much more in my comfort zone.

    We all stared at the room through the doorway. "Sit down!" Sgt. Blake demanded.

    All 26 of us scrambled to find desks. I sat in the third column of the second row, right in between Tristan and Gavin.

    "You're soon going to be operating weapons," he told us.

    Some of the guys looked excited, while the rest of us looked like we were about to faint.

    He handed us each a packet and some blank papers--probably for notes or something like that.

    "But first," he snapped us all back to attention, "you'll need to learn about the types of weapons, their parts, and how to use them. You'll do this for four hours today, tomorrow, and Saturday. You should also study the material because you'll be taking a written exam Sunday morning."

    Clayton nearly choked. "We have to take a test?"

    "That's what I just said," Sgt. Blake replied irritably.

    Clayton slumped back in his chair and groaned. "It's like math all over again."

    "Is the test graded?" Christopher asked.

    "Sort of," Sgt. Blake said,

    Gavin's eyes lit up, having just thought of an idea. "So if we fail the test, we don't move on?"

    Unfortunately, Sgt. Blake was already a step ahead of him. "No, you're all fighting no matter what, so doing poorly will not help you. In fact, I'll make it hurt you. I think I'll put the lowest scores on the frontline because I would prefer to have the soldiers that live be the ones who are actually smart."

    Many of us exchanged nervous glances.

    Yep, I was gonna take notes.

(Daniel's PoV)

    My eyes were glued to my notes packet. Normally I didn't like last minute cramming, but I had to get in every amount of studying possible. I had also never been this nervous for a test in my life. I wanted to see if I knew anything about weapons, plus I wouldn't put it past Sgt. Blake to follow through with his threat of putting low scorers on the frontline.

    Clayton put his hand on my paper, covering most of my writing. "Calm down. This class is actually really easy. There wasn't even any homework."

    I huffed in annoyance. "Our homework was to study. And I need to know this stuff. I don't wanna be on the frontline, and you can die if you try to use a weapon you don't know how to handle. And Clayton we're being tested on this today, right after breakfast."

    "Just relax, little priss," he told me. I hated being called that. I mean, sure I hate germs and I want everything to be neat, but that shouldn't make me girly.

    "Oh and by the way, you have chick handwriting," he pointed out before leaving for the cafeteria.

    I don't even remember what I ended up eating.

    The test was pretty difficult and to make matters worse, Clayton decided to sit next to me.

    Near the middle of the test, there was a diagram where we had to label the parts of an M16 without a word bank. Some of the basic things like stock, sling, and safety, I knew right away. Others were much more difficult though.

    "Daniel," Clayton whispered. "Can you write bigger?"

    I desperately tried to keep my eyes on my own paper, cuz I knew the second I looked up, I'd be in for it.

    "No," I said under my breath.

    "But I don't know any of the answers," he pleaded.

    You didn't study at all. I wanted to remind him, but I decided that not talking was an all around better option. Instead, I moved my right arm forward and surrounded my paper with it.

    The test ended up being over 150 questions. And I thought my English mid-term was long. Somehow they got the test graded in just a day.

    Lt. Jason came into the barracks in the middle of "wind down" time. He was carrying a big stack of papers. He must have partook in the grading itself cuz he looked exhausted. He dropped the stack of papers by the foot of Peter's bed and left us to find ours somewhere in the pile.

    We all shuffled through the papers until we found our own name.

    "Yes, I knew it! I scored a 94! I'm such a genius," Isaac bragged.

    Landon rolled his eyes and began to talk with several other guys. His test was on the floor in front of me and I kind of laughed when I saw that he scored the same as Isaac.

    While looking for mine, I overheard Sean frantically talking to Aaron.

    "I'm gonna be in the front! Am I gonna die?"

    "No, no, you're gonna be fine," Aaron tried to reassure him.

    I finally found my test underneath several others'. I had scored an 86. It wasn't bad at all. I went over to talk with Trevor, Logan, Matteo and Will, who were all discussing their scores. Logan had done the best out of them by scoring a 71. Will had gotten a 62 and Matteo, a 64. Trevor was cracking a ton of jokes because he scored a 69.

    Clayton groaned. "Of course, Mr. know-it-all gets a 98. The highest in the platoon."

    "And how did you do?" Logan asked.

    "29," Clayton mumbled.

    I tried to be nice and suppress my laughter. Logan and Trevor didn't.

    We all ended up going around the room sharing our scores since we wanted to know where we stood.

    It turned out that the only person who did worse than Clayton was Seth--but he didn't count because he purposefully failed because he said he wanted to die.

    Matteo was upset because Connor scored ten points higher than him.

    I found out that I was in the top third part of scores, which was definitely okay with me.