The Greene Effect - REWRITE!!

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO - THE MURDER OF A YOUNG GIRL AND THE SLOW DEATH OF A WOMAN

Amelia Greene -

Avoiding Aiello is as easy as it is to avoid a plague.

Unless I want to be transferred to another platoon, there's nothing else I can do except ignore his presence. He's always going to be there, staring at me from the corner of his eyes, and I have to pretend it doesn't bother me.

The boys have noticed, obviously, but haven't said anything yet. I know they'll never pick sides, yet Aiello has stronger arguments. I can only hope they acknowledge that it's only what war does to people.

But this isn't supposed to be a side effect. I'm supposed to be conflicted about what's murder and what's, not this.

All I can fucking think about is what Aiello said to me. That he sees what I've been feeling. When I could convince myself it was something only in my imagination, it was nothing.

Now that I know is it isn't just me, I'm terrified. It's not supposed to make me feel anything. I can't even face him, either of them.

There's nothing. There can't be anything. Pierson and I may be on the same platoon but I'd be damned if we were ever closer than that.

Whatever it may be, it's only the loneliness. A natural reaction to the hell this place puts us through. Once we go our separate ways, I'll understand it, and never think about it again.

I'll never think about you again.

Standing outside of his tent takes up too much of my energy. I dread hearing his voice or seeing his face. But I know that a deep, dark, part of me, keeps saying that I wouldn't last two weeks without him.

Daniels relayed an order to be a little bit ago, directed from Pierson, who's been too busy to give most direct orders lately. However, Daniels added that he wanted me to report back to him once I finished.

Of fucking course.

It'll only be a few minutes. I shove down my hesitation and step through. The way he immediately looks up strangles me.

"I did what you asked, sir." His eyes subtly look me up and down, the veins in his hands clenching and relaxing as he puts down a pen.

"No, you haven't."

I tilt my head in cautious curiosity. "I orchestrated the drills with the second platoon, sir."

He shakes his head, visibly frustrated. "I asked you two weeks ago to get those boys to trust me and you've been avoiding me. Not exactly how I expect orders to be taken."

I shut my eyes and then look off to the side, unable to react professionally. "You're a lot busier now, sir, it's harder to catch you."

"That why you're not looking me in the eye?"

I have to play it safe, exercise the same advice I gave Aiello a week and a half ago. I know what pleases him. But it's never been this difficult.

Pierson studies me intently the moment our eyes meet. His pupils are trained directly on mine for long at all, to my relief, but mostly the skin underneath.