Revived (Ender's Game Fanfic)-Editing

Chapter 8

I hear Drew come into the room as I am showing Baleigh her bunk. It was the one that used to be Herman’s. I stop talking to her and go stand at the end of my bunk. She follows quietly and stands to my left.

“Hello,” he says, nodding at the two new faces in the crowd. “Welcome to Dragon Army. I hope they made you feel welcome?”

Arrianna and Baleigh both nod, as Drew continues, “I am Commander Wiggin, though you will hear some call be by my first name, as we have another Wiggin here.” He returns his gaze to the rest of us. “Be in the practice room in ten.” Drew turns on his heal and leaves the room.

I look over at Baleigh. “I have to go. I’ll be right back.”

She nods and I run off after Drew. I catch up with him as he nears where the hall breaks in two.

“Drew?”

“Jaden,” he says, turning around. “I hope you have been nice to our transfers.”

“Oh course I have!” I say, my voice loud with outrage. “What makes you think that I haven’t?”

Drew smiles, shaking his head. “You need to keep that temper under control, Jay.”

“What temper?” I ask, even though I already know. I can feel heat rising to my cheeks.

Drew gives me a look that says ‘oh, really?’. “You know very well what temper.”

“I’ve been working on it for a really long time, Drew,” I say, sighing silently. “But I was teased a lot, and that didn’t help me make any progress.” I shrug.

“Keep working on it,” Drew says, his voice taking on a harsh tone. “I can’t guarantee that no one will tease you, but the people in your army are your family; they’ll be nice to you.”

I scowl at his tone, turning to walk away. Drew started talking to me, but I kept walking. I eventually stopped walking when I got to any empty room. Both sides of the room were lined with bunks, and each bunk had a mattress, but it looked unused. I sit on one of the beds, my elbows resting on my knees, my head in my hands.

I have a bad temper, I know that. But the way that Drew talked about, he made it seem like I could fix it. I can’t, that’s the thing, I think. Shaking my head. No one before this ever cared. People just got used to my hotheaded comments.

Keep working on it, he told me. I’ve been working on it since Father died. But I hadn’t progressed much.

Silent tears fell into my hands as they pooled up in my eyes. I missed Father so much. I may have been only five, but I remember how much he cared for me. He would always smile, no matter if he was having a good day or a bad day. His bright blue eyes would always seem happy, with just a bit of sadness. When he got home from work, he would pick me up and twirl me around above his head, and I would giggle.

I still remember the day that the police came to our house with the news that Father had jumped off a building, and broke his neck. I though that they were joking, that Father would come home when he got off of work, smiling and laughing. And so I sat in the entryway, waiting for to come, as my mother cried to herself in the dinning room.

Jake came over to me, told me that Daddy wouldn’t be coming home tonight, or tomorrow night, or the next night. He told me that Daddy wasn’t ever coming back. I argued that he was coming home, that he was fine, and I would wait for him to come back.

Jake just shook his head and carried me to my bed. I laid awake all night, waiting for the door to open, and to hear Father’s laugh. But in stead, I heard my mother’s grieving cries and sniffles from my brothers and sister.

The news that Father was dead didn’t set in until a year later, when Mother remarried. That’s also when the anger started. I was mad at Father for leaving me, for leaving us, for mother remarrying.

A hand on my shoulder startles me, and I sit up, wiping the tears from my eyes, to see Marty sitting next to me. He smiles sadly at me.

“Homesick?” He asks.

I shake my head. “I’m tired and angry.”

“Angry?” Marty asks.

“I have a pretty bad temper,” I say, with a shrug of my shoulders.

“Oh,” Marty says, smiling. “You won’t loose your temper with me, right?”

“I can’t promise,” I say, smiling. “But I can try. I’ll try to me witty when I loose my temper.”

Marty smiles. “You missed practice, by the way.” The smile slipped from his face.

I sigh. “Great,” I say. “Is Drew looking for me?”

“Yes, he is,” Marty says. “And he looks like he lost his temper.”

“I better go find him,” I say, getting to my feet.

“Good luck,” Marty calls as I walk out of the room.

I smile widely, as I go in search for my cousin.