(Aaron's PoV)

    Even by the 5th week of Basic Training, the morning routine sucked.

    I hate 5 o'clock in the morning so much. There will never be a time where I do not hate 5 o'clock in the morning.

    Sean was sitting on his bunk, trying to adjust his shirt with his left hand and write with his right one. He yawned, but somehow he still looked enthusiastic. He muttered as he wrote. "Dear coach: do you think you could give me a March Madness bracket?"

    I looked down and smiled upon hearing those words. I loved March Madness. Connor and I had been filling out brackets and watching the games since we were little. We would always make small bets over pocket change, candy, or even bragging rights.

    I tried my hardest not to look like a small child as I approached Sean. "Do you think you could ask for three?"

    Sean turned around and looked up at me. "Sure, it's always fun to compare brackets with people. Who do you think will win? I think it's gonna be Duke."

    "Yeah, they stand a pretty good chance," I replied. "Either them or KU. Although, it would be cool if Gonzaga won."

    I had always secretly liked that team. I remembered putting them in the semi finals when I was seven simply because I thought they had a cool name. Even though they lost their first game, the team started to grow on me. Since then, I never actually put them in my bracket past the second round, but each year I sort of hoped they would win.

    Sean shrugged. "Maybe. I guess they did okay during their season last year."

    I could hear Connor teasing Matteo from across the room as Sean finished his letter. "Aw, how sweet, your girlfriend's writing to you. Bless her soul--oh wait, she doesn't have one."

    Matteo slammed his fist into his bed post. "Shut up or I'll make you!"

    Connor pretended to act scared, and I just rolled my eyes.

    Sean tugged on my arm. "Aaron, does it bother you when Connor makes fun of...you know..." he paused, unsure if he had a right to speak the word, "people who look like you."

    I gave him a half smile, which then turned into a good-natured laugh. "No, I really don't care. The two of us always make fun of each other."

    I glanced over to see Matteo ranting faster and flushing redder. Those comments didn't bother me cuz Connor and I were friends. The problem was, Connor and Matteo definitely weren't.

(Logan's PoV)

    I rolled over at the sound of the alarm. I pushed myself up and began to climb down the bunk bed ladder. As I reached the ground, I turned around to see Clayton already awake. Fully awake. Like standing up and in his training uniform awake. Upon seeing me, he quickly threw something in his bag.

    I eyed him suspiciously. Clayton never woke up on time and he was the laziest person I knew. "Why are you up so early?"

    He avoided eye contact. "Oh, no reason."

    "What are you up to?" I questioned.

    "Nothing," he replied.

    I cocked an eyebrow.

    "Nothing bad," he added, suppressing a smile. I was about to interrogate him further, but Sgt. Blake stormed in and started yelling at us to go out to the track.

    We started our day with our regular five mile warm-up. I never really went as fast as I could on that. I preferred to pace myself, not out of laziness--okay, partly out of laziness--but mostly I liked to stay behind to talk with Daniel, Trevor, and Clayton. The guys in the front weren't very much fun to hang out with.

    Even though we were all pretty tired, none of us sounded breathy when we spoke. Show choir might not be the manliest, muscle building sport, but it did help build endurance.

    Daniel looked down at his wrist. "I wish we could have watches with our uniforms. I hate not knowing what time it is."

    "Hey, what's that on your hand?" Trevor asked, pointing to a series of black marks on Daniel's right hand.

    "Huh?" Daniel got a closer look and scowled. He stopped running and the rest of us followed suit, that is, until Sgt. Blake started yelling at us.

    "Clayton," Daniel said through gritted teeth.

    Clayton, however, was already in a fit of laughter. "You have no proof it was me," he said between breaths.

    Daniel remained unamused. "Who else would write 'Clayton is a sex God'?"

    Clayton smirked at him. "You were right. There are some benefits to waking up earlier."

    Daniel sighed irritably. "And my hand sanitizer is all the way back at the barracks."

    "Oh, well don't forget to pick up your skirt when you go get it," Clayton mocked. Daniel pursed his lips, but he just rolled his eyes. "If you really want it gone, just wipe it off with some spit. Here I'll do it for you." Clayton grabbed Daniel's hand, which caused him to panic as he tried to squirm it out of his grasp.

    "Don't ever put your spit on me--ever."

    During lunch, Daniel spent most of his time at the only cafeteria sink. He didn't have to wait very long for it since most of us didn't use it anyway. I mean, we're teenage guys.

    I went over to the sink to talk to Daniel. "You know if Clayton's persistent teasing is really bothering you, just tell him," I advised. "He'd probably stop. I don't think he's trying to be mean. I think he thinks he's being funny."

    Daniel continued scrubbing at his hand. It was now bright red, but the marker was starting to fade. "No, I don't need to say anything. I don't wanna cause any trouble."

    I wondered how long this aversion to causing trouble would go on before it would really start hurting him.

    I attempted to get him to come back to the table, but he insisted he wouldn't stop until all the marker was gone.

    When I got back to the table, Trevor whispered something to me. "Man, for as many times as Daniel gets annoyed, we're lucky he's so cool-tempered."

    Yeah, I thought. The last thing this place needed was more tempers.

(Will's PoV)

    Sgt. Blake led us back into the gym. Lt Jason followed closely behind him, holding a small box. Once we were all inside, Sgt. Blake announced that we were going to be practicing hand to hand combat.

    I bit my lip. The only fighting I had ever done was with my sister, and the fact that she won half the time wasn't exactly something to brag about.

    The reason Sgt. Blake wasn't particularly displeased with Lt. Jason's presence was because he was going to be used for fighting demonstrations. He showed us some of the "most effective places to punch people", how to put someone in a headlock or pin them, and how to block attacks.

    Lt. Jason was oblivious to the fact that he was being used as a punching dummy. "Oh, can I try something?" He asked.

    "No," Sgt. Blake replied, grabbing his arm and pinning him again.

    Lt. Jason pulled himself up. Luckily he didn't look too hurt. "Now you guys get to try that with a partner."

    I inched toward Matteo. I had assurance that he wouldn't hurt me. Several other guys began to pair off too.

    Sgt. Blake just laughed, which was kind of scary seeing as he never found joy in anything. "You think I'm gonna let you pick your partners." He picked up the box. "Most platoons pair people up based on size, but I see it like this. You never know who you're gonna be fighting. They could be bigger, they could be smaller. It's all chance. That's why I'm randomly drawing pairs out of here."

    We all stood tense, wondering who would get lucky, and who wouldn't.

    Sgt. Blake reached his hand inside the box and pulled out two names. "Kent and Michael."

    Both boys shrugged. Kent did look a little stronger, but Michael was better at thinking. It seemed like a decent match.

    "Logan and Andrew."

    Logan smiled. Andrew was the third smallest boy in our platoon. I didn't know him very well, but he seemed nice, although he hardly ever said anything.

    "Yay! I'm not going to die," Logan beamed.

    "Connor and Trevor."

    Trevor tilted his head back and sighed. "Well I am."

    "You'll be fine," Logan assured. "I mean you're tall."

    "And Connor's not?" Trevor shot back. "Plus I'm a twig."

    As bad as I felt for Trevor, I couldn't help feeling relieved that Connor wasn't paired up with Matteo. Instead Matteo ended up with Christopher.

    Sgt. Blake continued to draw names. Tristan was with Peter. Daniel was with Felix. Aaron was with Gavin. Ned was with John, or as some of the guys called "Wong-ti" for some reason. Seth was with Isaac. Clayton was with Justin. Sean was with Jean-Paul and Marcus was with Alan. In the end I was put with Landon.

    He smiled rather apprehensively. "I'm sort of used to being on the receiving end of this stuff," he admitted.

    "High school jocks?" I guessed.

    He smacked his lips together. "Sure, let's go with that."

    We threw several awkward punches. They didn't hurt, but the two of us probably looked really stupid since most of the other groups already had someone pinned down.

    From the right of us, we could hear Clayton and Justin.

    "Let's do this nerd-boy," Clayton challenged. "I am finally gonna beat you at something. You can't learn fighting from books. It's all about toughness."

    Justin gripped his shoulder and pulled him into a headlock. "It's also about strategy."

    Landon and I tried to repeat that, but we just ended up getting tangled in each other's arms. While trying to break free, I noticed a scar on Landon's right hand. I debated asking about it, but he pulled it back real quick, so I figured it must've been a touchy subject.

    Lt. Jason kept watching each group intently, despite the lack of action. "I love watching fights. You know what would make this better? Popcorn!" He darted out of the room.

    Sgt. Blake started to follow him. "There isn't any popcorn here!"

    Landon smirked. "And we stop working in three...two..."

    Right on cue, we all grouped up with our friends and started talking.

    "How'd it go?" I asked Matteo.

    He shrugged. "Fine, I guess. Christopher's pretty good, but at least he's nice."

    On the other side of the room, Connor and Aaron were play fighting. They were both laughing as they swung at each other.

    "Bring it on, ginge," Connor teased.

    Matteo gritted his teeth and glared at them. Connor noticed and just smirked at him. In this momentary distraction, Aaron seized the opportunity to grab Connor's wrist and pull both of his arms behind his back.

    After a few moments of struggling, Connor elbowed Aaron and eventually broke free from his hold. "I'm gonna beat you like the redheaded step-child you are," he joked.

    Only Matteo didn't take it as a joke. His face flushed and his teeth clenched, as he thought of only one thing: his girlfriend.

    Before I could even say a word to him, he was charging towards Connor. "Shut up!" he screamed.

    Connor took a step toward him. "And if I don't?"

    Matteo immediately swung at him, but Connor blocked his hit with his forearm. With his other hand, he jabbed Matteo in the gut. Matteo coughed several times, but he still fought back. He was throwing lots of spastic punches, all of which seemed to go unnoticed by Connor.

    Several of the guys started to crowd around them in apprehension.

    "Guys, I don't think this is a good idea," Daniel cautioned.

    A few of the bigger guys tried to break it up, but by then Connor already had Matteo pinned and was striking his face with his fists.

    Aaron grabbed a hold of Connors arm and pulled him up. "Connor, Connor," he pleaded. "Back off, you're gonna hurt him!"

    On the floor, Matteo was wincing while clutching his right eye, which was starting to swell up. He was also trying to cover up his bloody nose. I ran over to kneel by him. "Are you okay?"

    Although before Matteo could answer my question, we heard a loud voice. "What the hell happened?"

    Matteo tried to explain himself to Sgt. Blake, but every time he took his hands away from his face he started bleeding even worse.

    "Matteo attacked me and I simply defended myself using the techniques you taught us," Connor responded.

    "Nuh-uh," I retorted. "Connor was provoking him."

    Sgt. Blake put his hands up. "All right, let's settle this. Who threw the first punch?"

    I fell speechless and began to bite my lip.

    "It was a lame punch," Alan muttered.

    "Oh, so it was Matteo," Sgt. Blake concluded. "Surprise, surprise."

    "Hey!" Matteo exclaimed, then quickly put his hand back in place.

    "You're gonna have kitchen cleaning duty for a week!"

    "But that's not fair," Matteo blurted out. He wiped some of the blood off his face before continuing to argue. "Connor was fighting too-"

    Sgt. Blake cut him off. "You started it, he finished it. As far as I'm concerned all he did was demonstrate that he understood what I taught today."

    Matteo blushed bright red, both angry and flustered.

    "Just go to the infirmary," Sgt. Blake ordered. "Someone go with him."

    "I will," I offered, not even waiting for a response before helping him up and taking him out of the room.

    About halfway down the hallway, Matteo burst into tears--partly out of pain, partly out of embarrassment, and partly out of frustration.

    I touched his shoulder. "I know it sucks that Sgt. Blake tends to single you out. Connor definitely should've at least been punished too."

    "Emmy c-could be getting hurt...and...and I can't do a-anything about it," he sputtered.

    I forgot about the last reason: partly because he missed his girlfriend.

    "Who would want to hurt her?" I asked.

    "Her parents. Maybe even strangers too." His breathing was growing really shallow. "I just have seen all this stuff about violent crimes against people with mental illness...and I think to myself...what if she's next? But even if I was there, what good would I be? I can't even fight-"

    "Connor's a lot bigger than you," I pointed out.

    "When we reached the infirmary door, Matteo sniffled. "It doesn't matter. No matter where I am, I wanna protect her, but I just can't." He sulked as he walked into the room.

    I had a feeling Matteo's self esteem took a much bigger hit than his eye.

(Matteo's PoV)

    I scrubbed furiously at the dried up food that was still stuck on the pots and pans. "Stupid Basic Training," I muttered. "Stupid Connor, stupid Blake, stupid...it's...it's just not fair." I slammed the scrub brush down.  I had been trying to disguise my worry with anger, but it wasn't working out so well.

    Emmy could be getting hurt right now. Not just physically, but mentally too. I didn't know much about hallucinations and delusions, but they probably hurt worse than a punch in the face. I wanted to be there to comfort and protect her, but instead I was stuck washing dishes.

    I missed her so much.

    I wanted to tell her everything that had happened. I needed somebody to vent to who I knew would listen. I needed to talk with my girlfriend, but I just couldn't--not about the fight at least.

    I knew we promised to tell each other everything, and she was probably keeping her end of the deal, but she'd be scared to death if she knew what happened to me. She already deals with enough paranoia. I didn't want to give her a reason to validate her excessive worrying about me.

    The next letter I would write to Emmy would be completely normal. If I even gave the slightest hint about the fight she would assume the worst and panic. I couldn't do that to her. She already had enough to deal with.

    I felt awful knowing I was lying to my girlfriend.

    It's not lying, I told myself, feeling sicker with each word. It's just hiding the truth.

(Aaron's PoV)

    "Aaron! Aaron!" Sean tugged on my arm as I got out of bed.

    "What?" I mumbled, my eyes still barely open.

    His voice was frantic and squeaking. "You gotta see this! You just gotta see this!"

    "What?" I repeated.

    "Look." He pointed across the room. His tiny finger led me to Matteo's bed, where he was sitting rubbing his eyes. Once Matteo took his hands away, my mouth fell slightly open.

    There was a large purple circle surrounding his right eye.

    "Connor did that," Sean said so quietly I had to read his lips to tell what he was saying.

    I nodded, only because I thought I would stammer too much if I spoke.

    Matteo's eye hadn't seemed that bad yesterday, just kind of swollen, but then again, it can take a while for bruises to show up.

    Connor came down from his top bunk.

    "Have you seen Matteo?" I said in a low voice.

    Connor looked at me puzzled. "No, why would I want to do that?"

    "He has a black eye," I explained.

    He bit his lip and shifted uncomfortably for several moments. "Well...well it's his fault for starting the fight in the first place," he said with as much certainty he could muster.

    "I guess," I told him.

    Connor went to get his workout shirt out of his bag, looking rather flustered. He made a point. Matteo was stupid enough to start a fight with someone stronger than him. But annoying as Matteo was, I still couldn't help feeling sort of bad for him.