Cadet - 11. Cadet Third Class • VI

Three cabs dropped the group off in front of Club Yucatan about an hour before midnight. Just inside the door, CJ pumped a fist in the air. “TEQUILA SHOTS!” His shout was drowned out by cheers, as the cadets followed him and Owen to the nearest bar.

“Bro, you buying?” The smirk on Ritch’s face made Owen laugh.

“Mate, I think you can afford to buy. But fine, we’ll pay for the shots and the first round.”

The group crowded around Owen and CJ, shouting their orders. One bartender handled the requests while another set up limes, salt, and shot glasses on the bar. They were clearly accustomed to American tourists. When he went to pour, CJ stopped him. “No, papo. Let’s have the good stuff.” He nodded when the guy showed him a bottle of El Padrino Reposado.

The man smiled at CJ. “Good taste.”

Within minutes, the group stood on the edge of the dance floor, sipping cocktails. Everyone’s feet seemed to tap out the music’s rhythm. When the DJ transitioned to a new song, the smiles affixed to their faces grew.

“I LOVE THIS SONG!” Miranda, in front of everyone else, turned and found Ritch standing behind her. “Peterson! The dance floor. Now! That’s an order.” She grabbed his wrist and hauled him out into the undulating mass of bodies. “You have to like this one. It’s about your home town.”

Ritch glanced at his brother and brother-in-law who had followed him and Miranda. The three men burst into laughter. The remix of “The District” sounded awesome. They had added an addictive dance beat and sped up the vocals. He approved.

When CJ and Owen came nearer, Miranda pulled Ritch’s head close, so he could hear. “Why are you and your brother laughing?”

“Bro, she wants to know why we’re laughing.” Ritch shouted to counteract the loud music. His question led to them laughing even louder, and Miranda looking confused.

“You know who the singer is?” CJ asked the woman.

“Yeah, Chipper. Great voice and a good-looking guy. Quite a few female cadets drool whenever his name comes up.”

Ritch was intrigued. Chipper Pereira had movie star good looks, and he was surprised Miranda did not seem captivated. “Not you?” Maybe his wild imaginings had not been so wild after all.

“Nah… Not my type. So why were you, CJ, and Owen laughing?

Owen had worn a tank top, Ritch and CJ sleeveless muscle shirts. All three pointed to the tattoo on their left shoulder. “He has the same tat the three of us do.”

Miranda’s eyes shot open. “You know him?”

CJ spoke close to the woman’s ear as Joel and Edrice attached themselves to the foursome. “His real name’s Cristiano Humberto Israel Pereira, Jr.” Realizing other cadets had joined them and were straining to hear, CJ spoke louder. “Chipper and I went to high school together. He’s one of my closest friends.”

“No shit?” Joel wiggled himself between CJ and Miranda, throwing an arm over each one. “CJ, buddy… Can you introduce me? That man’s so fine he could do anything he wanted with me.”

“Slut!” Miranda shouted.

Ritch noticed she did not say anything about wanting to hook up with Chipper herself. “Give him a break, Kerr. He’s already tipsy. Did you notice he ordered two more shots for himself?” Joel looked far from being inebriated, but Ritch felt compelled to provide an alibi for his fellow cadet.

“I’ll have you know, sir, ma’am, that I am entirely sober.” Joel winked at Ritch. “Okay, who do I have to blow, so I can blow Chipper?”

Miranda unshouldered his arm and took a step away. “That’s disgusting! All you men are disgusting. Even the fucking gay ones. All you think about is sex.” She looked around the room and a moment later stormed off towards the bar. Ritch shrugged and added the outburst to the list of somewhat erratic behavior Miranda occasionally displayed. It baffled him.

Ritch thought of following her but decided they would talk later. “I’m glad I didn’t say a word. I’ve been on the receiving end of one of her tirades, and it scared the crap out of me. CJ, we should call Chipper. Let’s give Joel a cheap thrill.”

CJ looked at his watch and shook his head. “He’s in Buenos Aires, and I’m pretty sure he had a performance tonight. Maybe we’ll call him tomorrow.”

Owen added his own two cents. “We saw him in concert earlier this year, and it was bloody incredible. The man went on for three hours! If you ever get the chance, go see him.”

Joel motioned for Owen to take the spot Miranda had vacated. “Gentlemen, you’re my new best friends. Let me buy you a round, and I want to hear all about the concert.” He tipped his head up at Ritch. “Come along, Peterson. I know you’re rich, but I’ll still buy you a cocktail.”

“Ha! Those two are worth a hell of a lot more than I am.” Ritch had been watching the entrance on and off and at that moment his eyes lit up. “You guys go on. I wanna go talk to somebody.”

He may have shoved a couple of people out of the way in his rush to reach Sofia. The hotel’s bartender had walked in with a group of other women. On the way, Ritch snatched Edrice away from a girl who appeared immune to his charms. “Let’s go, King. You’re on wingman duty. And I think we may need a couple more cadets.”

“Yeah?” His eyes lit up like a kid promised a new toy.

“Sofia, the bartender at the hotel? She just walked in together with a few other women.”

“Daaamm…”

“Shit, she’s making a beeline for my brother. Go find at least Will and come back quick.”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

“Asshole!”

Ritch intercepted the woman a few feet away from CJ and Owen. “Hello, beautiful. You look fantastic.” Her stretchy top and microscopic skirt had him drooling.

“Ritch!” She wrapped him in a hug and kissed both cheeks. “I was just going to ask your brother where you were.”

“You found me.” Ritch momentarily glanced at the women surrounding her and smiled. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?” He wanted to stall until reinforcements arrived. Although the idea of him and four women on one bed appealed, his objective for the night was Sofia.

At that moment, Will, Braxton, and Edrice joined them. “There you are, bro. We were wondering where you’d disappeared to.” Edrice winked at Ritch. “How come you’re always surrounded by beautiful women?”

“Ed!” Ritch acted surprised. “You guys remember Sofia? From the hotel’s pool?”

“Best margarita I’ve had all day!” Braxton, about the same height as Sofia, flashed her and her companions a bright row of teeth.

“Sofia, these are my friends, Will, Braxton, and Edrice.”

“Hello again, darling.” Edrice glanced at the other women. “Are you going to introduce us to your beautiful friends?”

“I just asked that!” Ritch moved closer to Sofia and leaned into her. “You’re gonna dance with me, right?”

She acquiesced with a smile then rattled off names. Ritch nodded, but his interest was on the voluptuous bartender. “Can I get you a drink?”

“What are you having?” She interlaced their arms and walked towards the bar.

“Just beer. We did tequila shots before.”

“Let’s do it again. I’ll have a shot and a Modelo.”

Cocktails in hand, the Mexican women and the American cadets drifted closer to the dance floor. An hour later, after dancing together as a group, some left and melted into the shadows. Ritch and Sofia remained behind with Miranda. She had joined them and appeared as captivated with the Mexican woman as Ritch.

He was surprised when Miranda wrapped her arms around him from behind. Sofia smiled and echoed the move from the front. Miranda’s whisper jolted him. “You lucky fuck. You’re so getting laid tonight. Wish I was the one taking her to bed.”

If he was previously surprised, Ritch was now shocked. Had she just come out to him? It was too much to process. He had no idea how to react, but Sofia made him lose his train of thought when she stuck her tongue in his mouth, and slipped a hand inside his cargo shorts. He did not even notice Miranda walk away.

“Jose’s here, and it looks like your friend’s getting lucky tonight,” Sofia said, as she pulled her skirt down; it had ridden up when he stroked her thighs. Not an easy task considering she was half-a-foot shorter.

“Where?” He turned around trying to find them on the dance floor.

“At the bar. With the ambassador and his husband.”

Sure enough, Jose stood next to Joel, slowly sliding a hand over his back, and cupping an ass cheek on each downstroke. There was a lot of laughter between the four men. CJ kept a possessive arm around Owen’s waist.

The next morning, Ritch found himself naked, with Sofia similarly nude, twirling the hairs on his chest. “Buenos dias, Romeo.”

He was instantly awake. “Romeo?”

She giggled. “It’s what he called you when they walked in.” She pointed at the other bed.

“Bro! You were a beast last night.” Edrice, with one of Sofia’s friends wrapped around him, smiled.

“Dude… again?” Ritch recalled the room’s door opening at some point while he was fucking Sofia doggy style. “I’m getting my own room next time we go on a trip.” Looking at the clock on the nightstand, Ritch threw off the sheet covering him and Sofia. “We’re gonna be late!”

“Yes, you are.” Sofia sat, put her feet on the floor, and reached for the shirt she discarded after stumbling into the room. “Your brother said to hurry.”

Ritch stared at her thinking it was a bad hangover. “My brother?”

“Yes, the ambassador. He called right before I woke you up.”

“Oh fuck. I’m dead. Ed, no time to shower. We gotta go.” Ritch stepped into the same shorts he had worn the previous night, while looking for footwear. He found his flip-flops under the bed. Edrice was not moving fast enough for Ritch. Urgency colored his follow up. “Dude, I’m serious. We need to get out of here. Grab a T and flips. We can finish getting dressed on the way.”

The cadets dashed though the lobby, struggling to slip their shirts on. Bursting through the front door, Ritch squinted, stuffed his phone in one pocket, and retrieved his sunglasses from another.

“Dude… About fucking time. You look like shit.” Being dead sounded like a great alternative compared to the abuse Ritch—and to a lesser degree, Edrice—were subjected to. CJ, in particular, had a field day.

“Morning,” Ritch mumbled as he approached his brother.

CJ stood by the door, supervising the cadets boarding an old school bus. He sniffed the air when Ritch was closest to him. “Oh shit. You didn’t shower, you pig. You smell like booze and sex. And you gave me shit for the same thing yesterday?”

Ritch stared at the vehicle. It’s faded yellow color—rust volcanos erupting everywhere—did not inspire confidence. “Keep it down, bro. No need for anyone else to hear.”

CJ stared his brother up and down and burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re so innocent, little brother. Why don’t you get on? I think you’ll be surprised.”

“Romeo!”

The shout came as soon as Ritch stood next to the driver.

“Stud on board!”

He found an open seat, slid all the way next to the window, and unsuccessfully tried to block out the comments.

“Bro, can’t wait ’til we’re twenty-one. Bitches in Colorado won’t stand a chance once we can walk into a bar.”

The fact everyone knew he had gotten laid was not a huge surprise. The last comment, reminiscent of those during the Ski Club’s outing, made him flinch. He scanned the seats looking for Miranda, preparing for her to lash out. Instead, he noticed her facing a window. Sunglasses on, ball cap brim pulled down in front, and air pods stuck in her ears, Miranda was the picture of someone not wanting to interact with the world.

He closed his eyes and nearly fell from his seat when he recalled her words while dancing. “Holy shit!” Ritch slapped a hand over his mouth; he had not meant to say it aloud. Miranda was a lesbian.

Owen was kind enough to bring Ritch and Edrice ibuprofen and water bottles. “I’m so glad your brother insisted we throw this shit in our backpack. If the two of you feel half as bad as you look, I feel sorry for you.”

Ritch glanced at his partner in crime, smirked, and raised a fist. He and Edrice were in much better shape once they reached their destination; they slept most of the way.

CJ and Owen had the entire Academy contingent surround and profusely thank them on Monday morning. Everyone had apparently enjoyed having the two older men with them.

Ritch went looking for Miranda after his brother left, wanting to reassure her he would never reveal anything personal about her, but she was nowhere he looked. At one point in late afternoon, she made an appearance at the volleyball net.

The next day, he and Fred went scuba diving, as the only two certified. Over dinner, Miranda asked questions about the reef and appeared to be back to normal. She, however, declined to talk to him in private. Ritch gave up. He knew they would at some time revisit the dance floor comments, but decided it would be when and where she felt comfortable doing so. He decided to give her space, so both could enjoy their break.

The remainder of the week, the cadets spent playing and browning their bodies. Sofia lived at home but came back a couple of times after classes. Ritch warned Edrice to stay away from their room whenever she visited. She did not spend the night again. The day they left for Colorado, everyone bemoaned returning to winter weather. It might have been their spring break, but a snowstorm ravaging the Rockies delayed their departure.

Stranded at the airport with nothing else to do, the drinking age being eighteen in Mexico came in handy.

Members of other service branches often described the Air Force as soft. Its members were often accused of sitting on their behinds all the time and living in five star hotels instead of normal barracks. Derisive comments about Air Force bases being country clubs were common. Ritch had heard them all from family and friends.

He was fortunate to have grown up surrounded by men, many of whom also trash-talked the Air Force, who took exercising seriously. The Academy’s efforts to teach cadets lifetime fitness practices, by subjecting them to constant physical challenges, did not bother him.

In addition to passing Phy Ed 100 during BCT, cadets were required to participate in competitive experiences—intramurals, clubs, or intercollegiate athletics—every semester. They were also required to pass a minimum of ten Physical Education courses during their time at the Academy.

“Bro, relax. You won’t enjoy it if you’re scared.” Ritch draped an arm over Will’s shoulder, as they stared at another cadet climb the ladder to the upper platform.

“Enjoy? Peterson, you have a strange sense of what’s fun.”

The shrill scream of a falling man made both shudder. Ritch could not understand the apprehension exhibited by his roommate and others; to him, it was a new adventure. It was something to look forward to, not shrink from. His reaction to the squealing cadet was due to surprise not fear.

Phy Ed 211, Basic Water Survival, was a required course. Cadets learned aquatic survival methods meant to last a lifetime and serve them throughout their careers as Air Force officers. They were taught to save their own lives, assist others in an emergency, survive in the water for extended periods, and build confidence to swim long distances. The highlight of the course, at least as far as Ritch was concerned, was the jump he was about to attempt.

After sky diving, parasailing, and scuba diving, jumping from a ten-meter platform into a heated pool sounded like a piece of cake. Wearing his OCPs—Operational Camouflage Pattern uniform—but barefoot, Ritch climbed to the tower’s top, grinning. After listening to final instructions and given the go ahead, he walked to the edge and stepped off.

Gravity took care of the rest. Legs together and arms tight against his body, Ritch felt weightlessness for a fraction of a second. His stomach churned, but before he realized how quickly he was plummeting, his feet broke the water surface with less splashing than most of his classmates. Exhilaration led to a roar and fist pump as he surfaced. Those watching and waiting shook their heads. Someone handed him a towel when he exited the water.

“I hope I never have to bail out, but if I do, I hope it’s half as much fun as that was.” He looked to the female cadet standing next to him who, even after successfully completing her jump, appeared terrified. “You think they’d let me go again?”

“Fuck you, Peterson. You’re a dick.”

Ritch beamed.