The Prince and the Punk [EDITING]

Chapter 28

Janice

It's my birthday.

I was never really one to celebrate, and neither were my parents. As a result, I've had a number of bad birthdays, but this one takes the cake. I turn twenty while squatting in a crater 230,000 miles from home.

In the two and a half weeks I've been stationed here, I've been in too many battles to count. At this point, there's no doubt in my mind that I've killed at least a couple of Zinnans, and the knowledge means less to me every day. Every time I watch a comrade fall, I lose a bit of pity. By now, I feel nothing when I watch the scaly monsters fall. I've learned that they're the enemy, and it's us or them. At this point, it's not a matter of defending our planet—that's far too long-term—it's about staying alive.

If there's anything the last few months have taught me, it's that sometimes living in the present is necessary. I can't afford to think about the past, the future, Xavier, or anything else in my life, especially my stupid birthday.

So I'm not overly concerned about the event as I duck behind the wall of the crater. Shrapnel rains down on me, and I throw my arms over my head in an attempt to shield myself from it.

Once the dust and debris clears, we see Zinnans charging us. Some quick thinker throws a grenade, and the aliens are knocked back. Since the Zinnans are relatively vulnerable to fire, grenades have been engineered to release bursts of flame when they explode. Some of the reptilian figures light up and flee, leaving us to fight off the wave behind them.

Another thing I've learned is that if you can hit a Zinnan in the face, you can either try and shoot through an eye to its brain, or you can aim for its mask and cut off its air supply. Personally, I prefer the former method since it's a lot quicker and less gruesome than watching them writhe on the ground as they suffocate.

My gun clicks empty as I fire my entire clip at one, hitting it but doing virtually no damage. I reload hastily and resume shooting.

Despite our best efforts, we can't keep the aliens at bay, and it's not long before we're falling back in retreat. It's the fourth defeat in a row, and things look bleaker every day. Back at base, morale is low.

Nita and I arrive back at our room to find Courtney already sitting on the couch, twiddling her thumbs and bouncing her leg. She stands up quickly when we come in, then sits back down when she realizes it's us. She bows her head again and taps two fingers on her forearm rapidly, glancing at us every few seconds.

"Did you see Eve?" Courtney finally blurts out, looking at the floor instead of us.

Nita and I exchange a look.

"No..." I reply.

"I'm sure she just got caught in the foot traffic," Nita says optimistically. "She'll be here soon."

Courtney turns her head and stares at the door, still hunched over and tapping her forearm.

She stays that way for a while. I doubt she moves while I take a shower, as she's in the same position when I re-enter the living area.

Eve doesn't return. She won't. Nita and I both know it. It's the sad truth, and the two of us accept it solemnly, hoping Courtney will do the same eventually.

When there's a knock at the door, Courtney bolts up and over to it before I can even register the sound.

She flings the door open, revealing a slightly startled Slater.

I cross the room to the door, where Courtney is crookedly glaring up at the lieutenant through messy blonde hair that falls around her face like a willow tree.

I squeeze past her and lead Slater out into the hall.

"What was her problem?" he asks when I close the door.

"One of our roommates didn't come back today. I guess they were closer than I realized," I answer grimly, automatically following him down the corridor to his room.

Hanging out in his room has become a regular occurrence. The time I spend with him is often the only respite I get from my constant stress, and I can feel myself getting extremely attached.

"Oh," he replies. "Shit, there's a lot of bad news today."

"You mean the defeat?"

He scans his barcode and his door unlocks with a click. "No. Well, that too, but no." He glances at me, a small, almost sympathetic smile on his face. "You haven't seen the portscreens today, have you?"

"No..." I've actually been tuning them out. I taped a blanket over the one in my room in order to hide the visuals and muffle the sound. Just seeing Xavier on them hurts, and watching him act so friendly with other girls is even worse. "Why, what happened?" I ask.

"Your boyfriend got engaged."

"What?" My jaw drops.

Slater nods, taking a seat on the couch.

There's a portscreen in one of the window panes, and I approach it, taking in the images of Xavier with Desiree. It doesn't surprise me that she'd be the final pick, but actually seeing it happen hurts more than I expected. Most of the photos look staged, but there's one of them sitting in front of a fireplace together, backs to the camera. Her head is on his shoulder, and for some reason, they both look wet. It's too specific to be staged, and some instinct tells me it's real. Suddenly, I'm a strange combination of nauseous and furious, and I seriously consider punching a hole through the glass when I see Desiree grinning and flashing a big diamond ring to the camera.

Engaged.

Xavier is engaged.

I feel an overwhelming sense of powerlessness. All that time I spent thinking about him, needing him, loving him—it's all been wasted. I haven't seen him in over two months, and right now we're not even on the same planet. We won't be until my tour is over several months from now. By that time, will he have come around to Desiree? Has he already? What if he's forgotten about me?

This is the end of us. It has to be. How the hell could we get past this one?

A tear slips down my cheek, breaking my trance. I wipe it off and turn back to Slater. He's standing behind me, watching me with sad eyes.

I approach him and bury my head in his chest, wrapping my arms around his torso.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. "I didn't mean to upset you. I thought you knew."

"No, it's okay," I sniffle. "I'm glad you told me."

He holds me, letting me cry there until I can pull myself together.

"It's not fair," I mumble.

"I know."

I take a deep breath, finally breaking the embrace. "Thank you."

"Of course."

++++

I can't wait to be done editing this. I'm past halfway though so that's good!! Time's a-ticking.

I think my song choices have stopped making sense.

Anyway how are you? That's my question of the chapter. How are you, dear reader, doing on this fine day? And wilt thou consider blessing this novel with thine votes and comments. Thanketh thou.