Cheeky in Love (Completed)

Chapter Two

We woke to a freezing cold dawn that day. The first ones to get out of the bed were Kati and Petra, just as always. They were already making their bed well before six, while the rest of us were busy digging ourselves deep under the blanket. Kati was your typical average bimbo, who spent most of her time in front of the mirror. She was the one who had to wear full make-up even during the combat training sessions. Maybe I would've liked her more if she wasn't an egotistical see-you-next-Tuesday who didn't have any other topic than herself.

To her, on the other hand, I was just a loud-mouthed, low-life chick whose morning routine scandalously consisted of only regular cleaning things instead of going for the hot girl looks. Don't get me wrong, usually, I'm not against using make-up but in a military base during a basic training wasting even a single precious second on anything else but sleeping? No. Friggin'. Way.

Petra was a much more curious case. From the moment I saw her, I was relieved that I wouldn't be the only lesbian in our room. If I've ever met a walking, talking butch stereotype, that was her. Buzzcut hair, buffed muscles, male clothes, and such masculine manners that terrified even many men of our platoon. You could ask if she was so clearly a lesbian, knowing the stance of the militaries about homosexuality - especially around then in the mid-2000s - how could she be here. The truth is, as homophobic as Hungary was generally, the Army didn't have regulations against homosexuality. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with a progressive way of thinking. The rules of the military were partially written during the communism, and naturally, during those times, homosexuals didn't exist in Hungary as this disease only affected the decadent West. And if something doesn't exist, why would you need rules against it?

Needless to say, the non-existence of such rules didn't save Petra from being avoided by every other woman. While I was unhappy about the treatment she received, I was secretly relieved that I wasn't its target. Then came the first Friday afternoon of the bootcamp, when a guy arrived to take Petra home, and she became a purring little kitten in his arms. As it later turned out, she wasn't even bi, but what did I know about such things back then?

Besides the two of them, Hajnalka and Mariann lived in our room. Hajnalka was the most invisible person I've ever met in my life, and Mariann was the room mom, whom we all instinctively considered our superior.

Lastly, Adri and I got out of bed. Adri, this celestial creature, who had taken my breath away in the first moment, and annexed my entire mind ever since. Probably it would've been much easier if I loved only her looks, but the more and more we got to know each other, the more I fell in love with her. I loved everything about her. Her ever-smiling round face, her joyful brown eyes, her long maroon hair, even her adorably chubby shape that she hated so much about herself. I was all over her for how she spoke, how she tucked her hair behind her ears, how her laugh jingled when she heard or saw something funny... We had known each other for five weeks, and I still couldn't find anything I didn't like about her. My whole body was tingling when I was around her, and I couldn't do anything about it.

We went to the bathroom together to do our usual morning routine.

"I look like shit," I observed as I was looking into the mirror.

"What are you talking about?" replied Adri. "I'd love to look as shitty as you do."

I looked at her with dopey eyes. I really wanted to reply with something flattering, but given what I planned confessing to her in the evening, it would've been a huge mistake.

"If you ask me, it looks like you slept much better than I did," I assessed as I turned back to the sink to sprinkle water on my face. Not like it changed anything. My problems had much deeper roots at the moment. My eyes looked like I cried all night long, it was almost impossible to tell they originally were brown. My face lost its oval form and turned into some amorphous Picasso painting. Even my hair looked messy like I didn't a mere eight hours ago wash the Csobánkan mud from it.