August 12th, 2030, 11:01 am

Colonel MacTavish was not kidding to the Captain when he said that the traffic into town was bad this morning. It took us three hours to drive to the city's gate, only about fifteen miles from Manchester's house, through the bustling streets, and to the Imperial Guard headquarters on the western coast. It shouldn't take anymore than an hour to cross Oltima's capital city on a normal day, but you add in rush-hour traffic and the Imperial Guard ranking? It's a goddamn mess around here.

I missed the city a bit too much while I was with the Manchesters. Every night I would go to sleep to silence, or perhaps the low hum of the cars in downtown Stanville. I can see the moon and bright, twinkling stars through the tiny window above Hayes' bed. I would let the soft wind and cool air lull me to sleep as I lay on top of all the sheets. There was no reason to awaken at an early hour unless the Captain asked me to, and certainly no reason to rush anywhere.

Then, there's the metropolis known as Queen's City. Queen's City is the largest and center most urban area in the entire Empire, which is why it is the capital. I have lived here my entire life up until a couple weeks ago. There was never a night where it was entirely quiet. The moon and stars are covert amongst the constant glare of the lights, and all I can see outside of my window is the dim, orange glow of a streetlamp.

Every morning, at about seven o'clock, I would start to hear the rugged flow of vehicles outside my bedroom. Every now and again, you would hear a distant honk, and maybe even a screech. People would be walking quickly down the street, seemingly talking to themselves, but actually, to someone far away. I might even be able to hear the neighbors if it gets quiet enough or they start yelling. The noise of the city never seizes, and I don't know if that's a good or bad thing.

The Imperial Guard headquarters is located on a miniature island about a half of a mile off the western coast of the city. There is a long bridge that connects the island to the mainland, but only certain officers can drive across. Captain Manchester is one of those few people. Anyone else who wants to reach the headquarters has to jump onto the above-ground, subway train that will take them right to the officers' parking lot.

I watch as the train churns on ahead of us, over our heads. The whirring vibrates the hood of the Captain's car. Sparks spit off of the rails at the end of the trail as the train slows to a rough stop. I twist my head to look out the rear window of the car, looking back at the city, where we came from. It looks so much smaller from over here. It almost looks fake.

"Cool, isn't it," The Captain suggests, turning to me for a second. "It never gets old."

A corner of my mouth rises. "It ain't bad."

Loads of people, ranging from kids my age to middle-aged adults, spill out when the doors open on the subway onto a metal walkway about thirty feet off the ground. They start marching down the stairs and onto the solid ground after a few seconds of stagnancy. The sidewalk they land on connects right to the glass front doors of the headquarters.

The Imperial Guard headquarters is nothing short of enormous. From what can be seen from the front parking lot, the initial view consists of a marble rendition of an eagle with its wings spanned out from its body, perched high above the door. A crystal-clear dome hangs over the big room at the entrance. The entire building branches off to the left and right, and to an unknown depth. Two vertical windows are on both sides and are as long as the alabaster walls around them. The roof, an emerald green, hangs slightly over the building as it shines in the morning sunlight.

The Captain takes a left upon reaching the officer's parking lot and takes an empty space against the metal fence, facing the beach. Before unbuckling my seatbelt, I stare at the skyline. This isn't goodbye.

"We shouldn't delay," says the Captain. "Let's get a spot in line before the next train comes back."

The air feels different on the west coast, and I'm not just talking about the ocean. For the first time in God knows how long, I'm around a large group of people. A month ago, me in a group like this would be a headline. I hope it doesn't turn into something like that, though. It shouldn't; I'm a changed guy now.

My eyes stay glued to the pavement as the Captain and I step in line behind a group of guys. One of them swivels back to me and scans my whole body in a split second. Then, two more of the guys mimic their friend. I knew it, everyone has their eyes on me. No one is going to be able to leave the hell alone. If I pick my head up, I'll feel like the eagle over the door will be staring at me, too.

After a few minutes of slight movement in the line and wanting to leave, the Captain puts his hand on my shoulder. "Hey, hold our spot in line. I gotta go say hi to James. I'll be back in a bit." He steps out of the procession and moves toward the end, where I guess James is.

Great, now I'm all alone. For once, I was hoping he was going to lecture me or give me some encouraging words. But no, he has to leave, again. I feel like I should be used to it. I need him to stay with me in line. Now that he's gone, I feel like everyone is looking at me, shaking their heads. Again, it's the parents saying that they're glad I'm not their kid.

I poke my head out of the line and watch the Captain give one of his strong handshakes to another man in the same white button-up and black tie. I guess I should be glad I got stuck with that guy. I could've been thrown in with a worse officer, someone who might not have cared about me as much. I know that he doesn't always come across as the best guy, but he has good intentions.

The night that we met Anthony Young, we would've never guessed a kid like that would be so sadistic. When I got blown back and watched him fall into the gorge, I laid there, frightened for my life. I thought I was going to die, too. The Captain could've just left me there. He could've taken Anthony's brother and let me perish there in the forest. After all of the shit I'd given him those past few days, I guess I would've deserved it.

But the truth is, he would've never done that. He told me later that night, that if I had died, either there in the forest, or in the back of his car, he wouldn't know what to do. He said that he wouldn't able to live with himself or have the courage to tell my mom what happened. When I passed out, he admitted that was the most scared he had been in years. He thought he lost me.

So, yeah. I guess there are worse guys to be your Imperial Guard mentor.

"Huh, I never thought I'd meet the Empire's biggest dickhead, but yet, here I am."

I retain my attention back to the line ahead of me. The group of boys leading is fully turned around, and snickering in my direction. The one on the far-right stops laughing first, and notices that I was alerted by his comment. The other two follow suit, folding their arms across their chests.

"Come on, chin up, Trossy. You've got two extra weeks before you get popped," The rightmost kid laughs. "It could've been today."

I give him a slight grin. "You're right, it could've been." I pause, approaching him. "But it wasn't."

One of his stocky, fat friends chuckles. "Ya know, MacTavish is a fucking idiot for letting you out. You're just lucky Manchester put in a good word for you before Colonel gave you the boot."

The first kid presses his palm against my right shoulder. He glances at the two goons. "If I don't wake up tomorrow, fellas, it's because this shithead slit my throat." He flicks his neck, and his golden hair whips across his forehead. "You'll find my barrack, taking one of the steak knives from the kitchen, and just," He imitates a slicing motion across his neck. He finishes off the gesture with a click with his tongue.

"Slater Tross, May edition," The other chubby kid snorts. His twin and Blondie howl with laughter.

These are the people that join the Imperial Guard a year early? There are two egg-like jerkwads, both wearing striped polo shirts that are too small for their necks. Their thin, strawberry-blonde hair lays flat on their head and over their elephant ears. I can't tell if they're small brutes, or not. These kinds of kids are the ones that think they're all tough and shit when in reality, they aren't. They'll hide behind each other until you give up, then have the audacity to call you a pussy. Trust me, I know from experience.

Goldilocks, on the other hand, could be the type that can talk the talk and walk the walk. He is far slimmer than his soft counterparts, which may be misleading for his victims. Usually, the bullies are the ones who look like the twins, not a stick of string cheese like this guy. The only distinction between him and the cheese is his stupid surfer dude haircut. He's the guy that girls only like because they think he's actually a surfer, when all he really does is sell weed, and as it turns out, he's a dickhead, too. Chicks dig these guys.

The blonde one sticks his twig of a finger into my chest. "You think you get a free ride because one of the big guys stuck his neck out for you? That's where you're wrong, Trossy." His face is only inches from mine, so close that a piece of his hair taps my forehead. My nose crinkles in disgust from the whiff of his breath. "I'm not going to let some punk-ass bitch like you just walk in here and act like you own the place."

"When did I act like I own place?" I shake my head, raising my hand to his clavicle. I give it a shove, and he steps back into his friends. "Stop making shit up. It makes you look like an idiot."

He rebounds even nearer. "Do you want to hit me again, Tross? Do it, I fucking dare you. Like I said, you're just a bitch. You won't hit me, you're too much of a pussy to even think about it."

"You're right, I won't hit you. I would if I had nothing better to do. Now, fuck off. You're the one trying to start shit."

"He's trying to get into ya head, Luke. Back up," one of the twins urges, grabbing his friend's arm. Luke swats it away at first but then turns back to his spot in line.

Assholes. All three of them.

"Boys," I hear the Captain's voice growing louder and louder behind me. "What seems to be the problem here?" He stands right beside me and glances at the group.

The second twin is completely still, staring at my mentor. He rises on the edge of his toes and puts his mouth near Luke's ears. "Dude, that's Manchester."

Luke grins and puts his hand on my shoulder. "No problem here, sir." I swipe him off of me. "Just trying to get Slater acquainted around here. He needs some friends, ya know?"

The Captain nods deliberately. "I'm sure you were, young man. But Slater will be able to make friends after the introduction. And, from where I was standing, it looked like you two were quite up close and personal. I would rather you not do that to my kid." My kid. "Keep your hands to yourself."

"Anything for the best." Luke gives him a playful, weak shove with two fingers before winking at me. He then swivels back around to his friends. The Captain, taken aback, glares at where Luke touched him, on his chest.

We must be waiting in the line to enter the headquarters for about ten minutes. I had to listen to Luke and the twins, whose names were said about ten times, talk about how hot the girls are at their school, Woodrow. I can't tell the twins apart at all, since they're identical, but all I know is that it's Richard and Don. Dick and Don.

The sun beats down among a shroud of silver strands in the sky. I can feel my armpits starting to pool, and I hope that they aren't making stains. First, I have these idiots ahead of me, and then I'd have everyone looking at my pits. I'm making every attempt to not pull my shirt collar up to my hairline to wipe the sweat off. I try fluttering the bottom of it, to get air circulating, but it hardly does the trick. This has got to be the hottest day of the summer. Even someone's mom behind me commented, saying that whoever is running the front desk needs to hurry up. Can't disagree with that.

For the beauty of the exterior of the building, the first steps inside are underwhelming. It looks like a high school's front office, with how simple and small it is. The ceiling is only about ten feet high; pale and wooden, with a ceiling fan that whips in a small circle. The carpet is definitely worn through. To my right and left are a couple of leather couches with coffee tables ahead of them. Magazines are scattered across their surfaces, although they are vacant right now.

As Luke talks to the receptionist, I stare off to my left, past the Captain. Straight ahead of where I'm looking, there is an entrance to a wide-open hallway, blocked off by a turnstile. I can't see much past that other than the floor looks smooth and tiled. So the quality of the rooms goes from high school office to the Castle. Got it.

"Next up," the woman at the front desk sighs. Luke steps away and exits the room to the right, against the wall with Richard and Don. The Captain and I approach in his place.

My mentor leans on the desk's cluttered surface with his elbow. "Good morning, Irene. Busy day, huh?"

Irene peers up from her ancient computer. She looks kinda older than the Captain, by what seems like a wide margin. Her thick, round glasses sit on the bridge of her nose, magnifying her eyes. How did she get this job? She must have been a guard one time in her life. I wouldn't be surprised, actually, she looks pretty tough.

Her eyes return to the computer monitor. "Brian, I have known you for thirty years. You know that the first day of ranking never gets any easier for me."

There is a jar of circular mints on the counter. He reaches in and takes one out. "You know, I've been trying to get you an assistant this whole time. Just to lighten the workload a little bit. James has been saying the same thing."

"You and James are full of it. The years pass by, and I'm still sitting here on my own. One of these days, you two ought to help me. I'd actually put you two to work, instead of what Gill has you boys do." She tilts her head down in my direction, where I can see her eyes directly. "Now, I trust that this is Slater?"

The Captain presses himself off of the counter. "Yes, ma'am. This is the Slater Tross, ready to go."

Irene scans my face a second time. "Huh, he has his father's eyes." She brings her focus back to her computer. "I just need to make sure his information is correct. This will go on his recruit's pass. What's your middle name?"

My gaze doesn't go above the desk. My father's eyes? Massaging the palm of my hand with my thumb, I glance up for a split second. "John," I reply, clenching my jaw.

"Bluefield High School?"

I nod. "Yes, ma'am."

"How tall are you?"

I look over to the Captain, and he is staring back, awaiting an answer. I hardly remember how tall I am. I'm shorter than him by a few inches, but that's all I know. It's like a math problem; like solving for y when you don't even know what x is. I'll just make something up. It can't be that far off, could it?

I wobble on my tiptoes a bit. "Five-eleven," I say, flinching. Not a bad estimate, I suppose.

"One, nineteen, thirteen?"

Before can I ask what those numbers could possibly mean, my mentor cuts me off. "Your birthday," he says. I guess that makes sense now. I nod at Irene.

"I guess that's it. Everything else isn't really important." She swivels in her desk chair and points to an opening in the wall behind her, guarded by two older kids. "Right through there. Take any seat. The first presentation starts in about ten minutes. Welcome to the Imperial Guard."

I just stand there in line, petrified. This is it, isn't it? This is where it all begins or ends. All my fears manifested into one intangible beast, right beyond those doors. I don't know how people are going to treat me, after all I did. I killed guards. It's a miracle I haven't been beat up already, like I almost was when I was here last. Those that are guards now probably hate my guts, and I would, too, if my friends were murdered.

As I start to stride over to the two kids standing guard at the doors, I feel a hand on my arm. "Hey, Slater, hold on one second." I turn to face the Captain. His grip detaches to my shoulder. For a moment, he is speechless, gazing at his feet.

"Look," He exhales, lifting his fixed look to my face. "This isn't easy for me to say, but I just think you should know. I don't know how you're feeling about all this. Mixed emotions, I get it, but I don't know what's worrying you. If I want anything out of you for the next two weeks, it's your full effort. If you make it, you deserve it after everything you've been through. If the worst happens, and you don't rank, then you could say you tried. I know this doesn't sound inspirational in the slightest, but that's hardly the point."

He stops, then begins again after a breath. "The point is, words cannot describe how proud I am of you. You've come so far since we met again. Sure, we got off to a rocky start, but I expected no less. In fact, I expected far worse. I thought using the OLC was foolish and ridiculous on that first day. But as time went on, I noticed what it did to you. You're nothing like the kid I spoke to in the interrogation room. You're much, much more than that. You've become such an extraordinary young man during the time I spent with you. I just wish I was able to prepare you more than I did.

"But nonetheless, thank you. Thank you for sticking around and wanting to change. Whether you want to believe me or not, this was quite an experience for me. I learned so much from not just the Imperial Guard attempting to help me take care of you, but from you as well. Now, unless you have any last-minute questions, good luck."

He suspends his right hand in the space between us. Unlike the first time he tried to shake my hand, during the interrogation, I can actually grab his hand. A strong handshake between a mentor and his apprentice.

"Thank you, Captain," I mumble, releasing his hand.

He smiles. "Don't worry about it. Anything for Calvin's kid." Before he crosses the procession to the front desk behind him, he adds, "This won't be the last time we see each other, hear me? You've got this. I believe in you."

We turn our backs to each other and start in opposite directions. I find myself staring forward, at the open room, where the introduction will be held, with the two guards out front. It's time to face my fears and tackle this thing head-on. No turning back now.

I look at the boy standing on the left. "Good morning." He doesn't respond; his eyes are elsewhere. Whatever, screw him.

The room I enter, at a first feel, is freezing cold. It's incredibly spacious, like a gymnasium. In fact, it looks a little bit like that. The floor is a pale hardwood, and the walls a rough, white paint. The ceiling sits way over the top of my head, with huge windows lining the perimeter. They cast thick strands of light onto the excessive amount of rows of metal chairs in the center of the floor. The chairs are facing a stage, with tiny spotlights shining onto a vacant spot on it.

Chatter intensifies as I approach the chairs. I hope they aren't talking about me, I'd rather not have people hate me already. I have no idea who to sit next to. Maybe I can find my friend, Jake, if he's here yet. The only problem is that I can't see shit, and I don't want to look like an idiot trying to look for him. I might as well just sit down in a random spot.

I take a seat in the third row from the back, behind a guy and girl. I shiver, refusing to let my arms touch the chair. Why is it so damn cold? I get that it's the dead of summer outside, but there's no need to make it like Sever, the frozen north, in here. There's no need to make us suffer through the temperature for a second time today.

The girl ahead of me swirls around in her chair and rests her elbow on the top. Her light, highlighted hair drapes over her shoulders like a silk curtain. She smirks at me.

"You're Slater, aren't you?"

I grin. That sounded nice enough. "Yeah, that's me."

The boy beside her revolves, too. He stays silent, examining onward. His cropped hair is a bit darker than her's, like a dirty blonde. Their faces, however, have the same round cheeks and diminutive nose.

"Huh, you didn't think you'd be here a few weeks ago, did you?" The girl continues, leaning kind of close to me. "Strange turn of events, that's for sure. No one was expecting that."

The boy snorts. "It was supposed to be a unanimous vote until MacTavish shit the bed. Now, it's all this."

She rolls her bright eyes around. "Shut up, Drake. Nobody asked for you to be a piece of shit."

"I'm just saying!"

She shakes her head and sighs, returning her attention to me. "Sorry about my brother. He doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut." She smiles with a set of flawless teeth. "I'm Dalia, and that's Drake."

My eyes dart between the both of them. I should've guessed they were brother and sister when I first saw their faces. "It's nice to meet you guys. Where do you guys go to school?"

"Stanville," Drake responds. "Knights pride, baby."

I almost spring out of the seat to ask them. "Do either of you know Celestine Manchester? She's going to be a junior this year. I met her while I was training with the Captain; he's her dad."

Dalia glances at her brother. "I know of her. She's pretty popular, but that's all I know. Also, I'm pretty sure she doesn't go by Celestine. It's just Celeste." She didn't tell me that.

I hear the doors close behind me, so I turn around for a second. The two kids who were outside of the room march down the middle aisle, side by side. Everyone who was just milling around find their seats in the array. A silence draws the crowd.

The two guards, a boy and a girl, stand up on the stage. Both of them are decked out in those fancy, black Imperial Guard uniforms, like the one Colonel Jameson wore when he came to Manchester's house a couple weeks ago. The stark difference is clearly the number of accolades sewn onto their outfits, since these two kids are far younger than he is. I don't know much about military symbols, but I just know these guys are a much lower rank than the Colonel that I saw.

There is one difference that I catch between the boy and the girl, though. As the guy paces around on the stage for a while, I notice that the silver insignia on his left sleeve is slightly larger than the girl's. From here, towards the back of the crowd, I can hardly see what the design is, so I can't really tell.

"Good morning, class of 2030." The boy beams, clasping his hands together in front of him. "It is a pleasure to finally be able to meet you guys after what feels like a long summer. My name is Sergeant Brayden Lee, and I will be your commanding officer for the next two weeks. To my left, here, is Corporal Alex Porter. She will also be a commanding officer, giving me a hand with all of you. Corporal Porter and I will be assisting you with whatever you need, from drill instructions to questions about the ranking.

"Before we go through a run-down of the weeks to come, I just think I should introduce myself and Corporal Porter a little bit more. Last year, I was the highest-ranked recruit in my class, known as Class 29. That is why I was ranked as a Sergeant without having any field experience whatsoever. As for Corporal Porter, she was ranked second, so she was given the title, Corporal, which is only one below Sergeant. So, if you were having any doubts about whether or not you could approach us with questions, there you go. Corporal Porter and I are, I guess, success stories in the Imperial Guard ranking, and we are definitely willing to help you."

I feel like I have seen Corporal Porter before. She has her fair hair tied back in a low bun, which kind of throws me off. I can't tell where I know her from her hair looking like that. Her face, with her sharp nose and piercing, dark eyes just seems so familiar. I think I might have gone to school with her. If that's the case, I haven't seen her in over a year, which might be why I don't fully recognize her. Oh well; as if she actually wanted to talk to me.

"Now, guys, this is going to be quite an exciting ranking, from what I've been hearing. Small class, but all of you, if what I heard is true, are truly gifted in ways that can improve the Imperial Guard for the future. That being said, I don't really expect any problems. But, I am obligated to review the rules of the ranking with all of you. One, you will refer to Corporal Porter and I as Corporal Porter or Corporal, and Sergeant Lee or Sergeant. I know that we told you our first names, but that was merely a way of connection. From here on out, you will call us by our rank, out of respect.

"Two, I don't feel like I should have to remind you to keep your language clean. Is it possible you will hit a few rough bumps in the road while you're here? Of course. All we ask is that you be considerate of others. No one wants to hear you drop f-bombs. Three, no fighting or extreme physical contact outside of combat training. This is something that the officers take very seriously. Fighting will result in a dramatic drop in rank. My advice is just to stay on everyone's good side. And finally, this rule should have to go unsaid, but it's required that I let you know because someone in the past messed this up. Boys' rooms are on the right side of the hall in the barracks, the girls' rooms are on the left side. At no time can a boy cross to one of the girls' room, or vice versa. We don't want to have to deal with those kinds of problems."

Sergeant Lee seems like a pretty chill guy, in my opinion. I should definitely utilize his help as often as possible. He looks like he knows what he's doing around here. He stands up straight and talks to us with a strong, stable voice. No wonder he was ranked first in his class.

"I will now run-down the events that will transpire during our time together. This week, Monday through Sunday, you will travel with your assigned group to different training sessions throughout the island. You will be divided into four groups of roughly three-hundred seventy kids each. At each session, you will work for hours on techniques, such as combat, agility, and endurance, as well as what it means to be an Imperial Guard. I suggest you take these very seriously because your involvement plays a factor in your rank. Then, next week, we will begin the tests. Your performance on these trials will be the greatest dictator of your rank in the end. Everyone will participate in each test at about the same time.

"Monday morning, we will start off with the obstacle course in the backyard. This is your traditional, run-through-the-mud test of your endurance. After lunch, you will head to the pool, where will we test your endurance again, as well as your ability to swim. Tuesday, you will wake up to the infamous island run. Two laps around the island are not as easy as it sounds; you'd better pray for a cool, breezy day. For the rest of the day after that, rounds one and two of the combat tournament will commence. You will be split into groups of sixteen and will fight for a champion in each bracket. The final two rounds will take place Wednesday morning, and you will have the rest of the day to prepare for your first written test. This will be everything you learn in the classroom sessions. The second written test will begin Thursday morning. Late Thursday night will be the highly-anticipated capture-the-flag game."

Some chuckles erupt from the crowd. What is so great about this capture-the-flag game, anyway? Celestine told me about it, and I hardly believed her. She wasn't kidding at all. It actually exists.

Sergeant Lee continues when the mass hushes. "I know, it sounds preposterous, but it is one-hundred percent real. It's so much fun, you guys will love it. That concludes the mandatory tests needed to rank. The next morning, the officers conducting the ranking may ask to speak to you and get to know you better. This is their way of differentiating between you and another recruit for one rank. Another way that the officers do this is by asking you to recite the Imperial Guard Creed of Honor under certain environmental circumstances. Take both of these very seriously if you are asked to complete either task. Next Saturday will be the ranking, where you will find out where you stand amongst your classmates. This is an all day event, with breaks in between.

"Here is how the ranking works. There are fourteen-hundred, seventy-two of you in your whole class. Only the top one hundred will be revealed throughout the day. If you do not hear your name be called, that means that you did not rank, which is okay. You can find out your class rank after the event around the building on monitors. The top ten recruits will be announced at about seven in the evening. The top one-hundred recruits are known as the immediate duty squad. They will return to high school for their senior year, and will only be required to assist the Imperial Guard in times of distress until you graduate. If you are unranked, you will also go back to school and will be in the reserves until we need you. As for the top-ten kids, they will forgo their high school career, unless they wish to return, and will join the Imperial Guard as a rookie Private. In a nutshell, that is how the ranking goes."

I need to get into the immediate duty squad to live. That's at least one-hundred out of almost fifteen hundred. I don't know how I'm supposed to pull that off, but I have to. I just have to work hard and remember what the Captain taught me. I need to stay positive about this. All these kids are going to try to get into the top ten just to get out of school. Meanwhile, I actually need to rank. My life depends on it.

"Are there any questions right now? If not, we need to get you guys moving so we can get the second presentation in here."

Someone on the other side of the aisle raises their hand. I can only see a silhouette from where I'm sitting. "Sergeant Lee, are you and Corporal Porter going to be helping a certain group or are you helping everyone?"

Lee nods. "Good question. Corporal Porter and I are here to answer any questions you may have. We'll be around to all of the groups if we can. Of course, if you would rather talk to me over Corporal Porter, or vice versa, that's totally fine. That's why there are two of us." His eyes pan the room. "Anything else?"

"When are we eating?" A guy shouts from the back of the section across the aisle. The horde gives out a few suppressed laughs.

"That depends on which group you're assigned to. Some groups eat earlier and later than others. You will receive a schedule upon finding your room assignments, and you can find out then." Lee opens up his hands, flat, and pretends to lift up the air. "If you guys have anymore questions, feel free to ask me or Corporal Porter at lunch. Now, you guys have to go find your room assignments. To the right of the stage is a set of double doors that should lead you to a hallway. Follow the signs on the walls to take you to the barracks. Remember, girls on the left, boys on the right. Your name is posted beside the door to your room. Thank you guys so much, and I'm looking forward to working with you in this year's ranking."

Everyone in the room is on their feet in seconds. Dalia and her brother turn to their left, facing me. They both smile in my direction.

"Let's go, Slater. Isn't this exciting," She asks, exiting her row to the left behind Drake. "It's the ranking! We've been waiting for this all summer."

Drake adds, "Slater, maybe you and I will be assigned to the same room. That would be cool."

I'm here.