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Chapter 12 by UnrulyDogboy UnrulyDogboy

What do you do?

Date with Deshawn

Deshawn banged on your door promptly at 6 AM. He was dressed in camo fatigues with the nametag: "ALPHA." He walked in, sat on your bed, and held out a matching set of fatigues.

"Put these on. We have to be there by 7:30."

You dressed in the uniform Deshawn supplied, it was identical to his except for the nametag "BETA." Deshawn ran his hand down your back.

Beta? Really? Okay, Deshawn, I'll play along, for now.

"Looks good on you."

"What is all this for?"

"Paintball!"

Deshawn held up his fist, and you fist-bumped. Together you walked out of the dorm and climbed into Deshawn's old Jeep Wrangler.

"I didn't think freshmen were allowed to have cars."

"I paid an upperclassmen to buy me a parking permit. Climb in, the rest of our gear is in the back."

Deshawn told you that the paintball facility was about 45-minutes away. On the way you talked. Actually, Deshawn did most of the talking. You asked him what his major was, and information poured out of him. Deshawn was in the Navy ROTC program and a political science major. Because your college was small, the ROTC program ran in conjunction with State University. Deshawn often had to commute 30 minutes ROTC activities; that was why you didn't see Deshawn around the dorm often.

Before college, Deshawn graduated from a private military boarding high school. You felt bad for him.

"That must have been rough."

"Are you kidding me? It was amazing! My dad is career navy, and my mom is a lawyer for D.C. lobbyists. We were always moving, I never saw my parents, and I spent all my time with nannies. The summer before my sixth grade, one of my dad's friends suggested the boarding school RMA for boys. My mom pulled some strings and made a generous donation, and I was admitted as a full year student. Did I mention that my mom and her family are loaded? Think of a stupid amount of money and then add two zeros. The academy became my permanent residence. That summer, I was the youngest kid on campus, and the older full-year students took me care of me. There were adults, but it was basically a summer camp run by older kids. My parents are my biological family, and I know they love me, but the RMA students taught me how a family should be there for one another. Even the classes were great. I wouldn't say military school is for everyone, but it was a perfect fit for me. I'd spend 4 or 5 weeks a year with my parents, they took me all over the world, but the rest of the time I was at RMA."

When you asked him what he was going to do with his political science degree, his answer shocked you.

"I'm going to be President of the United States."

"Our college is great, but it isn't Yale or Harvard."

Deshawn explained that he'd graduate with his degree in Pol. Sci, serve four years in the Navy, apply to an Ivy for his graduate degree in international affairs, intern for a U.S. Senator, and launch his political career.

He pulled off the road into a parking lot.

"But before all that. Paintball!"

Deshawn handed you a duffle bag from the back of the Jeep. You looked inside and found your helmet, gun, gloves, ammo, etc. You did were not a regular paintballer, but in high school, you had gone a few times with friends.

You checked-in at the main office. Deshawn gave the guy behind the counter a big hug.

"Adam, meet Alejandro."

He looks really familiar.

You fist-bumped Alejandro. After a brief description of today's event, you sat through a safety film while your guns and ammo were inspected.

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Deshawn talked with Alejandro in an office. You could see them through a large window, but you could not hear what they were saying. They seemed to be arguing. Deshawn leaned in and whispered something to Alejandro, who then pushed Deshawn away. Deshawn got in Alejandro's face and backed him against a wall. Again Deshawn leaned in. Finally, Alejandro reached into his pocket and handed something to Deshawn. Deshawn kissed Alejandro's forehead and walked out of the office.

When Deshawn rejoined you, you asked him if everything was okay.

"Just collecting on a favor. Nothing to worry about now."

To battle

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