The Jaguar in the Mirror (Snarky Urban Fantasy): New Adult Series: Book I by Rossana Corniel

Author:Rossana Corniel [Corniel, Rossana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lucid Publishing
Published: 2021-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

13

October 1999

“There she is, our beauty queen. I didn’t know they let sorority girls into boot camp,” belted out my military training instructor (MTI or sometimes just TI) at Lackland Air Force Base (AFB), Texas, as I ran past him during our morning run. It was my second week of boot camp and our TIs were constantly barking orders and humiliating us. The recruiters explained it as resiliency training, mental conditioning, and a way of teaching us to respect our superiors. What that TI did not know was how far I was from being a sorority girl or beauty queen.

They never once heard me speak, and I’m sure they never bothered to check my file, so I took it as a compliment. I felt relief that without knowing me, my TI thought I looked like one of those “wholesome” girls that would even join a sorority. Even though I never saw myself in that way, it sounded good at the time. At least focusing on the TI’s perception of me helped to balance the slow-rising sense of panic I had inside every day I looked at one TI in particular, Tech Sergeant Grange.

Those first days of training were all rainbows. During zero week, rainbows were what they called the squadrons of us marching around the base in messy formations with our civilian clothes while we waited for our uniforms to be issued. That week, it felt like I could still change my mind. Still go home and nothing would have been different. During zero week, I still was not being called a beauty queen. It was not considered week one, because we were still doing immunizations, weapons issue, initial physical training (PT) evaluation, and medical and dental appointments. Hell for me did not begin until the second week of training, during the first inspection.

We were just returning from our morning PT, and the day’s exercise was particularly grueling in the forty-degree rain that pounded down on us from the heavens. My squadron was resilient, and we pushed through without so much as a grunt. We learned early on not to moan, grunt, or complain during the rigorous drills. As we climbed up the staircase, we were all eager to get inside, take the cold and wet clothes off, and wash up in a two-minute shower. We all rushed as we did, walking side by side up the steps and causing a bottleneck at the entrance.

MTI Grange yelled, “Make a hole!” and we clambered to stand at attention, opening a space for the TI to pass through as we lined up with our backs against the walls. It took a moment for everyone to shuffle into place, and when we did, all was silent. The TI commanded, “Attention,” then proceeded to eye us, one by one, with peering eyes that searched for the slightest emotion in our faces.

When he reached my face, he stared for what felt like forever. I fought to hide the mania in my eyes as I witnessed

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