Project: High School

Chapter 3 - "Well, are you proud of what you've done?"

"Oh, please. Don't start."

Her Grandpa chuckles softly. "What happened now, Katy?"

Katy looks up, meeting his gaze, and deflates a little. "Do you want the shortened version or the full length?"

He clicks something open on the computer in front of him, and, after looking over the thing with a huff, closes it. His shifts his attention back onto his granddaughter. "Give the full length. I've got time."

He makes a face. "Plenty of time."

Katy laughs at his expression. "Someone cancel on ya?"

"Their excuse was that they forgot that they had something more impotant to do. After I had already been kept for 10 minutes waiting for them."

Katy flops back into her chair, hand pressed to her forehead as if she was an actor fainting. "Allow me to tell you my tale of whoe."

--A Few Minutes Later--

Her Grandpa sits back in his chair, trying to process all that his granddaughter has told him. "They really tried to pin the blame on you?"

Katy crosses her arms with a small huff. "Yep, the slime covered bitches attempted a pull the blame off of Richerson."

She pauses, think something over. "I mean, he is a great officer, but he's nothing out of the ordinary. No offense to him."

"Well...," Her grampa starts slowly, thinking his words over. "I feel, just based off of what you've told me, they are focusing on you and your mistakes because of what you are."

Katy rolls her eyes. "And what am I, a vampire?"

Her Grandpa doesn't respond to her sarcasm, but continues. "You're the youngest person to become a Sergeant in the history of the North American (NA) military. Any mistake, big or small, can lead to a ruined reputation, possibly leading to a ruined career."

Katy shifts in her seat, looking at the wall behind him. "Then their stupid if they think I don't already know that. And their really stupid if they think I don't have any self-control."

He regards her with sadness echoing in his eyes. "They have every right to be worried for you. Your 17, Katy. Sure you've been through hell and back numerous times, but that won't stop some people from worrying."

"Do you worry about me?

He sighs," Of course I do Katy. I haven't stopped worrying about you ever since it happened, but I remind myself that you've grown up. That you aren't that little 10 year old girl who was oblivious to the cruel thing we call life."

He suddenly stands and, walking over to the window, continues talking. "I think that you just need to keep in mind that the people who are in charge of important things have known you since before it happened."

Katy leaps to her feet, her voice rising. "But they shouldn't still treat me like a child! It's because they've know me my whole damn life that I'm expecting to be treated like the person, HELL, the Sergeant, that I am!"

She sinks back into the chair, her voice becoming quieter, defeated by her own thoughts. "Is wanting to be respected too much to ask?"

Her head sinks down to rest on her chest, tears beginning to form in her eyes. Her grandfather steps over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. A soft sob escapes Katy as she curls up into a ball, leaning slightly into his hand.

"I didn't, hic, go through all that, hic, pain and hard work just to be, hic, disrespected by the, hic, people who've watched me, hic, and have seen how determined, hic, I am." She struggles to make her words understandable through the crying-induced hiccups.

"I know, I know. I'll talk to them as soon as I'm done with my last bit of paperwork, that sound good?"

Katy sniffles and lifts her head to look him at him through her wet lashes. "Just don't tell them any of the stuff I've just said, please. I don't need them to know how much they've hurt me. If anything, just make it seem like its a mild inconvenience for me, please?"

He pauses, looking into her eyes. Eyes filled with emotions that speak volumes about what was going through her head that nothing else about her speaks of. He takes a moment to just consider what his next move should be. Katy raises an eyebrow, giving him a look. "Taking your time to see if it will be worth it, huh?"

"Katy."

"Just saying what I'm seeing."

"Fine. I won't make it a big deal."

"Look Gramps, I don't want you to make any kind of deal about this, okay? I don't need more people looking at me with that stupid look of pity in their eyes, in fact, I don't ever want to see that in their eyes. Especially the ones who are supposed to run my career until I drop dead."

"Fine, I won't make it a deal at all. Happy?"

Katy allows a grin to cross her face, despite the burning desire to continue crying. She pushes the pain and emotions down, to hide them from the scrutinizing eyes of her grandfather. She uncurls herself from the chair and grabs the box of tissues that always sits on his desk, that, Katy knows for a fact, he keeps around for these kind of situations. As much as he hates to admit it, the amount of care and empathy he has for all the men in his division is the most out of all the other Generals.

"Very."

She hops up to her feet and gives him a curt salute. "I'ma head to the gym to do a little venting, so I'll see you at dinner?"

He rolls his eyes, moving to sit back down at the desk but he stops when Katy wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a bear hug despite the fact that she's nearly 2 feet shorter than him. "Thank you for listening to me ramble," she murmurs into his back. "I really needed that today."

"Your welcome, Katy. Just remember that your Grandmother is also here for you. After all, you being here is the main reason she's still living on base."

Katy smiles, "I know, the two of you never let me forget that fact. Love ya!"

He sits down at his desk and looks at his computer screen, crossing his arms. The faces of Katy's superiors, filled with a wide range of different emotions, were shown via a video call. Most of their faces were filled with regret, a few were remorseful, and one or two were filled with anger towards themselves.

"Well, are you proud of what you've done?"

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Now, I know that you thought that the Dad Jokes had stopped, but my dear, dear readers, you were wrong. Mwahahaha!! (cough, cough. Jeez I need to stop doing my evil laugh, it drys my throat out)

What's the difference between a well-dressed man on a unicycle and a poorly-dressed man on a bicycle?

Attire.