Project: High School

Chapter 9 - "You started this?"

Bill and Carlos POV

The Mess is filled with sounds of laughter, small arguments, and overall merriment. Bill and Carlos are sitting in the one quiet corner in the hall, staring blankly at their full plates.

"You boys seem rather down."

Bill doesn't look up at the guy standing over them but scowls down at his plate, picking up his fork and aggressively stabbing his slab of ham.

Carlos doesn't respond at all, he just continues to stare at his plate. Bill glances over at his lack of response, surprised, to say the least.

"I heard that you dissed Sergeant Maze, then picked a fight with her men, and then proceeded to bitch when she confronted you with a competition against her about how she's 'a superior officer and she has an unfair advantage against us!'"

He dances around in place as he mocks the two of them, his buddy, standing a few feet away, shaking with surpressed laughter. He cracks up at his own actions, leaning on the table to support him.

Carlos grinds his teeth together as he listens to the laughter of men who, just a week ago, respected them.

Bill takes a deep breath and waits for a moment to think, then very carefully asks, "Would you shut up? We've already dealt with enough embarrassment this week."

He shakes his head, "Hell, it's more than enough for the rest of our lives."

Carlos suddenly jumps up, grabs his tray, and storms off toward the trash cans. The three remaining at the table watch him go, Bill with worry, and the other two with amusement.

"By the way Bill, have you heard about the ridiculous new gun law that has been put in place over in the East? The people are fighting against it so hard even though their fighting for something that causes more deaths than occur naturally."

"Yes, I've heard about, no, I don't care." Bill snaps. "So fuck off."

"Someone's pissy." The other guy says in a sing-songy voice. "Do you really not care?"

Bill stands up and walks over so that he's nose to nose with the other guy.

"I. Don't. Give. A. Flying. Fuck. As long as our government doesn't start to get stupid ideas from the East, I can rest easy."

The guy holds his hands up, "Okay, okay. No need to be in my personal space, buddy."

"I am not your 'buddy'."

Bill aggressively grabs his plate and head toward where Carlos had disappeared. The two men stood at the table for a minute or two more before nodding at each other and walking off in two different directions.

– 15 minutes later –

Many war crys can be heard from the mass of flying food and the crowd of people. Carlos and Bill stare at the mess that was slowly growing bigger.

As the Sergeant's flood in to stop the food fight, a few of them joining in when no one was watching them, Bill starts slightly and starts shaking Carlos.

"Do you know what this means?!"

"Dude, stop shaking me. I know what it means. It's gunna be hell for whoever is on cleaning duty."

"Carlos," Bill stops shaking Carlos, but keeps his hands on his shoulders. "We're the ones on cleaning duty, remember?"

Carlos' face drains of color as he looks around at the growing mess. The food caking the walls, the floor, even the tables, is constantly growing in volume.

He looks back at Bill, his face paler than a sheet. Bill had the same expression as he did, one of realization and terror.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!"

The voice commands the attention of every single person in the Mess. Every head turns toward the door. The sudden silence is deafening, seemingly echoing throughout the building.

The person who is standing in the door way steps forward, revealing Sergeant Maze. Her small form back-lit and casts a shadow that stretches the length of the Mess.

She steps forward, the crowd parting before her like fish making way for a shark. The other Sergeants make way for her too, feeling inferior in her presence. She stops when she reaches the middle of the room.

"Who started this?" Her eyes glid from face to face as she waits for someone to fess up.

Two hands slowly raise into the air. Everyone else notices after she has already started walking over. The two men who had been taunting Carlos and Bill gulp as she comes to a stop before them.

"You started this?"

Her simple question made them feel like they were signing their death certificates. She tilts her head to the side, holding her unwavering gaze on their faces.

In the corner from which they watch this, Bill and Carlos realize why her nickname is Maze. There was no expression on her face whatsoever, causing one to feel like the were walking in a Maze blindfolded, never knowing if they were about to fall or be killed. They glance at each other and gulp, their terror evident on their faces as the turn back to watch the rodeo.

There was no answer, and it was clear that there should be one. Maze clenches her jaw slightly as she repeats her question in an icy voice.

"Did you start this?"

No answer.

"You started this."

A statement, no longer a question. Given away by the lack of answer and the stiffness of their bodies. A feat that only a well trained Sergeant could pull off.

Maze sighs softly, "I have no right to hand out your punishment, so tell me," She looks directly into their eyes. "Who is your Sergeant?"

"I am."

She turns around to see a fellow Sergeant making his way over to her.

"Well then, may I suggest that they lose their off base privileges for the next two weeks?"

"Should they have to clean this," A wide swing of the arm, gesturing at the mess. "up? I can add--"

"People are already assigned to clean the Mess tonight. And I get a feeling that losing their off base time is the best punishment for these two."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And I'm back baby, the month off was quite beneficial for my writing brain, so I should be able to post more often than I was.

I have decided to stick with a no schedule kind of thing so that I won't lose motivation.

Which days are the strongest?

Saturday and Sunday. The rest are weekdays.

Hope your February is just what you need! :)