Red Bull

seven

I BALANCED MY SURFBOARD with one arm and juggled my bag with the other, trying to to slip on the sand.

The beach.

I don't know what in the name of everything holy possessed Maverick to take us to the beach for class, but I was thankful for it.

We could all use a break.

I placed my surfboard down dropping my bag on top of it with a large thunk!

I stretched, and watched as the morning sun peaked out of the clouds.

Mostly everyone was here, except our instructor surprisingly. I made my way over to Rooster, Hangman, Phoenix, Coyote and Bob, who were entranced into their own conversation.

"Look who's late!" Coyote said, crushing me into a side hug.

"I'm not late, Mav's not even here yet." I said, returning the hug.

"When is he coming anyhow?" Phoenix asked, watching the Hard Deck probably wondering if he was flirting with Penny again.

"Beats me." Hangman says, and Rooster stays silent.

"Do you wanna race to the water?" Bob asked me, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

A small smile grew on my face. "On 3, okay?" I ask, and he nods.

We both get into running positions, as our friends watch our silly race.

"3!" I yelled, laughing as I sprinted away.

"Cheater! You didn't count down correctly!" Bob yelled from behind me, expecting me to go 3, 2, 1.

But when did I ever do something that he expected?

I got to the water first, running, more like wading, until it came up to my hips.

"Sorry, I can't hear you over my victory." I bragged, splashing the water towards him.

Bob tries to block his face with his hands, but he fails. In retaliation, he pushed a wave towards me, and got the rest of my shirt wet.

I cupped my hand, and flung more water at him.

"Red Bull! Bob! Maverick's coming!" Coyote yelled from the top of the beach.

"Coming!" I said.

We walked back to the beach, and the coverup I had chosen for today, an oversized t shirt, was soaked. It stuck to my body, and I peeled it off, throwing it over with my other stuff.

I was wearing a black shorts bra with some shorts, which luckily, is what Phoenix had also decided to wear.

I looked over at Bob, already looking at me, who's cheeks had suddenly tinged pink. "Already sunburnt Bob?" I asked, feeling concerned.

Bob snaps out of his staring, and says, "Oh—probably." He turns more red, and starts rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

"Do you need sunscreen?" I asked, waiting for a response.

Bob takes off his glasses, and cleans the water off of them with his shirts. "No, I already have some on."

"Okay?" I said, questioning our awkward conversations.

I didn't have time to analyze our interaction as Maverick finally made his way over to our group.

Maverick smiles as he pulls two footballs out of his bag.

My smile drops, I wasn't coordinated for hand-eye sports. I had done dance and cheerleading in high school, but football? I wasn't coordinated enough for this. Or prepared.

Maverick smiles, sweating under the hot summer sun. He begins, "Today, we're going to be playing dogfight football. I'll explain the game, and then I'll split the team into two groups."

Dogfight football, was just like regular football, but offense and defense were going on at the same time, every time. So both teams had a ball, and were playing against each other, trying to score, and trying to prevent a touchdown.

Maverick split us in half, I was on a team with Rooster, Coyote, Payback, Harvard, Halo, and Bob. I had been separated from Phoenix, who had Fanboy, Fritz, Omaha, Yale, and Hangman. I would say that both teams were evenly matched for this game. And while this may not exactly qualify as training, we all chose to ignore this fact.

I'm the beginning, we all were counting out the score, trying to win and prove that we were the best. After so many touchdowns, we all forgot and are only playing to have fun now.

Even Maverick decided to join in with us, but eventually he gets tackled to the ground, hard.

Surprisingly, Rooster goes over and helps him up. I guess they had put their differences aside for the mission and themselves.

All the guys are doing victory dances and celebrations, but I just told my eyes at the cocky confidence they exude.

I play both offense and defense, doing my best to guard somebody or catch the ball. I make a few touchdowns, but so does everybody else. I feel like I'm finally getting the hang of this.

Hangman throws the ball, and Hondo ends up catching it. We all race to Maverick's right hand man, and tackle him to the floor. I can't remember a time where I had this much fun with so many people.

It got hot, and the sun was blazing over us, burning us and the sand. Bob was the only one with a shirt on, girls or boys included. But as it started to torment him, he finally gave in, and took it off.

I will admit, my jaw dropped at the sight.

Bob had abs. Not skimpy, skinny boy abs. Lieutenant Robert Floyd was built. And you would never expect it by the way he carried himself.

He was hot. Even hotter in my mind. The fact that he chose not to flaunt it off like the rest of the men in our detachment was definitely attractive.

Phoenix not so subtly bumps into me, giving me a knowing smile. I push her away, and curse myself for being so obvious. And yet, as obvious as I am, Bob still hasn't figured it out after all these years.

I make my way back over to my team, who has already started to play. Rooster has the quarter back, and he throws it above the rest of the team.

Right into Bob's hands, who seems to catch it effortlessly.

We all yell in celebration ad it's his first touchdown of the game. Bob look more surprised than anybody when he catches it, and he looks so happy and proud of himself.

Both teams start celebrating, and Rooster lifts up Bob onto his back, as we all chant, "Bob! Bob! Bob!"

Ladies and gentlemen, that's my wingman.

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