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Chapter One
Friday, June 26
7:15 a.m.
The morning I left for West Point, nobody showed up at my house to say good-bye. I thought that at least someone from the track teammaybe even my coachmight drop by to wish me luck. But nobody did.
So I went to sit on the curb at the bottom of our driveway and waited to leave. I watched my sister and brother get into our blue Volvo station wagon as my dad tossed the last bag into the back and slammed the trunk. He went over to the drivers side and popped the hood. He checked the oil for the second time. Finally, he scowled at the front door and blasted the horn three long times.
My mother stuck her frizzy, uncombed head outside and shrieked, "Do you want to eat today, Ted? Im throwing some food together. Just sit there and wait."
"Ive been waiting," he yelled back. "Now its time to leave. Didnt we agree wed leave at seven? Well, now its almost eight!"
"Ill leave when Im good and ready. So just shut up! You" Then her eyes locked on me. "Andis not even in the car! So whats the big deal? Isnt she why were going in the first place?" Her head disappeared as the door slammed.
My dad glared at me and barked, "You heard your mother. Get in the car!"
I sighed, then got up off the curb and headed for the backseat. One thousand miles. Cant wait for this trip to be over.
"Move over!" my sister yelled at my brother as I climbed in. "Whats your problem, Randy? You always sit in the middle."
My brother sulked and slid over. Ten years ago, strapped into his car seat, hed spat into my hair and smeared partially eaten graham crackers on anything within his reach. Now, at least, his annoying car behavior was limited to blowing out his eardrums with heavy metal on his Walkman. "Just keep your pile of books on your side" He smirked. "Mandie."
She shoved him away. "Fine. If you keep your reeking breath on your side. Do you ever brush your teeth? And dont call me Mandie. I told you, from now on its Amanda. Thats whats on my birth certificate. Dont you think its tacky that all our names rhyme?"
"No, I think its cool, Mandie."
My mother yanked open the door to the passengers side. "You left the window open in our bedroom," she said to my dad as they both got into the car. "The one over your precious computer. Ever hear of rain?" She crammed a grocery bag on the seat between them and dropped her purse to the floor. Then she turned around and frowned at my brother. "You have those things on already?"
He shrugged. "Blocks out your voice." He turned up the volume and closed his eyes.
My mother snorted, my dad started the car, and my sister opened her book.
West Point, here we come!
Before we even made it out of the driveway, my mother started complaining to my dad that the radio was too loud, and why did he always have to listen to the sports station? My dad said that she could pick the station when she started doing the driving.
As we whizzed down I-90 past the Sears Tower, my mother turned off the air-conditioning, opened her window, and commanded, "Open your windows, kids. Lets get a nice breeze going." Immediately, hot, sticky air wafted in.
My dad punched the air back on and said in his Im-trying-to-remain-in-control voice, "Roll up your windows, kids. We need to cool this car off."
My mother shut it off. My dad turned it on. My mother shut it off.
Meanwhile, Mandie, Randy, and I were sweating, our legs sticking to the vinyl seats.
Finally, Mandie slammed down her paperback and yelled, "Would you stop acting like a couple of babies? Just leave the air on. Stop being so cheap, Mom."
"Im not being cheap." She stuck her hand out the window. "Its nice outside, and I just want to enjoy it a little. Is that so bad?"
"You call ninety-three degrees with ninety-five percent humidity nice?" Randy asked.
I guess he cant block out her voice after all.
"Just leave it on," Mandie said. "Andi will be gone in a few days. Cant you attempt to limit the amount of misery she is forced to endure?"
I smiled. For as long as I could remember, Mandie had always stuck up for me, like a big sister should. Except she wasnt my big sister. She was two years younger than I. Maybe she felt guilty because I caught so much grief and she rarely did.
"Well," my mother snapped, "you can at least turn it down, Ted. It doesnt have to be on so hard." For some reason, my mother always listened to Mandie.
I could tell right away that this bad day was only going to get worse when we stopped to fill up at a Texaco station outside Hammond, Indiana.
"I think its crazy that we have to stop so soon," my mother whined. "Why didnt you fill up before we left? You know gas costs more on the expressway."
"Because," my dad said, watching the numbers roll on the pump, "if we wouldve stopped in town, we never wouldve gotten out of there! You wouldve said, I need to run into Jewel real quick to get something. Then it wouldve been Kmart, then . . ."
"Oh, just shut up, you dumb"
"Watch your mouth!" my dad spat.
She finished her sentence anyway.
Shortly after we crossed the Indiana-Ohio border, my mother pointed to a rest stop. "Pull over here, Ted. I have to pee."
"You just went," my dad said as he sped past the stop. "And do you have to be so crass? Say urinate."
"I told you to pull over! I really have to go!"
"No! Were making terrible time. In a couple of hours well need to fill up with gas. Well stop then."
"A couple of hours?" she howled. "Who do you think you are, God? You cant dictate when I can and cannot pee." She emphasized the word "pee."
"Oh, yes I can! Im driving. I decide when we stop."
"Then Ill drive!" she screamed, grabbing the steering wheel. The car swerved into the left lane, nearly hitting a red pickup truck. Car horns blared all around us. I grabbed the door handle to brace myself.
Battle Dress. Copyright © by Amy Efaw. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold.
Excerpted from Battle Dress by Amy Efaw
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