Story of a Love Song

Start of a Love Song


         This story begins, as many stories do these days, with a boy. He was a not a remarkable boy by any means. He looked about eighteen or nineteen years old, just barely average height, and was an incredibly dull dresser. The only aspect of his appearance that was at all memorable were his eyes. They were a bright, striking blue, though it was a subject of much debate as to how he acquired the color. His parents both had exceptionally dull colored eyes, and the boy was often accused of wearing fancy, designer contact lenses, though this was untrue. Even his name tried to pretend to be more exciting than it was. Ronald Lee Miller III. Extremely common, despite the sneaky addition of the “III” He was a soldier in the United States Army, which he used to tell his friends was a lot more interesting than they thought it was. He was right too; most of his friends worked in fast food.
         At six o’clock on Monday morning, Ron was sitting on his bunk in the barracks, struggling with a particularly stubborn boot. It had rained the night before, and PT had been miserable and wet. Accordingly, he was not feeling at all well, which always made him a bit cranky. He had just managed to pull his boot on his foot when one of his best friends, Randall Flournoy, sat heavily on the end of the bunk.
         Flournoy was, as the saying goes, only human. More specifically, he was almost six feet tall, loud, obnoxious, rude and all around clumsy. He was one of those kinds of people that join the Army because they want to make friends, and then realize that it’s really not as fun to be in the Army as it was to play Army. And people in the Army are not very nice at all, and he ended up having less friends than when he came in. Except for Ron of course, who, (despite Flournoy’s many, many, faults, and his habit of causing destruction wherever he went), was quite fond of him.
         “Hi Donut!” Flournoy exclaimed cheerfully. Donut was the nickname Ron was branded with at basic training, a reference to a flamboyantly gay character in an online machinima, and earned by Ron’s ridiculed status as the only virgin in the battery. He had yet to decide whether the nickname was endearing, or insulting. Either way, Flournoy wasn’t to be broken of the habit.
         Ron really wasn’t in the mood for a ridiculous conversation so early in the morning, but could see no way of ignoring his friend without seeming rude. “Morning.”
         It was obvious that Flournoy had something on his mind. It was clear from the unsettling smirk that was plastered all over his broad face. “Spit it out dude. What do you want? I already told you, I’m not helping you throw a fake rave party in here, I don’t care how many glow sticks you bought.”
         He laughed. “Yeah, I know. This has nothing to do with my glow sticks. It’s about Ward.”
         Of course. He should have known. Ron stood up quickly, pretending he hadn’t heard, and went to his wall locker. Flournoy followed him, either missing the hint, or simply unwilling to acknowledge it. Ron dug through his hygiene drawer, looking for his deodorant, aware that Flournoy was watching him expectantly. Gritting his teeth, Ron turned and faced his friend. “What about her?”
         “I think you should ask her out!”
         Ron could only stare in disbelief. At first, he was sure that Flournoy was joking. To his dismay, the big oaf looked completely serious. “Why in God’s name would I want to do that?”
         “Because you like her.”
         “What? No I don’t! Are you out of your mind?”
         “I’m not stupid Miller. I saw you staring at her during that financial management class. You couldn’t keep your eyes off her.”
         “Well…no, I was just admiring how clean her…um…boots were. Yeah, I was impressed-“ Flournoy raised an eyebrow and smirked even more. “That’s completely beside the point! I’m no good with women. In case you’ve forgotten, my fiancé left me for some geek who plays clarinet in the school band. What does that tell you?”
         Flournoy looked thoughtful. “Beats me. Fat chicks dig guys with big woodwind instruments?” He cracked up at his own joke. Ron just rolled his eyes, exasperated, and returned to searching for his roll-on. Flournoy sobered up immediately. “Seriously though man. I know what happened to you was painful, and we’re all very sorry and sad for and all that. But you have to take a chance! She’s perfect for you. I can help if you want.”
         “No! Absolutely not! The last thing I need is for you to get involved with my personal life. I’ll think about it, ok? Will that get you off my case?”
         He seemed to think about it, then shrugged. “Sure. That’s all I can ask. But don’t worry, I’m not going to let you forget about it.” He patted Ron on the back and went back his own bunk.
         “I’m sure you won’t,” Ron muttered under his breath. “That’s what I’m worried about.”


Chapter 2


         As Echo Company began lining up for their eight AM formation, Ron was feeling extremely uneasy. He hadn’t been lying to Flournoy, the thought of another relationship was not pleasant to him, not now. He didn’t trust women anymore, not after his fiancé ran out on him. Who knew how many clarinet players there were in this company? That was a risk he just couldn’t take.
         Still, even as he stubbornly resisted, he couldn’t help but think about her. PFC Ward was…different. Not because she had ever shown the slightest bit of interest in Ron, but for the exact opposite reason. Since he got to Fort Huachuca, most of the females in Echo company expressed romantic interest in him, some of them aggressively. Ward on the other hand had hardly spoken a word to him. Yet, he couldn’t help it. He was attracted to her. She was funny, sarcastic, and stood her ground on everything. Not to mention she had a smile that made the sun look like a 45-Watt light bulb in a second rate desk-lamp. As much as he resented it, Flournoy was right. He was hooked. But would it be worth risking getting hurt again? Maybe he could just learn to play the clarinet and get it over with. No, he decided. He’d just keep his mouth shut and see how things turned out.
         The formation began building around him, and ironically, Ward lined up right in front of him. Ron glowered. That’s real subtle, he thought ruefully. Flournoy spotted him, and began weaving his way through the crowd to stand next to him. At the last minute, he seemed to change his mind, and, with a wink, stood next to Ward instead. Ron stared at him, aghast. Oh God. That wink is never a good sign. Please, you moron, don’t say anything to her!
         Sergeant First Class Reginald Barkley, the incredibly verbose black head platoon sergeant, climbed on top of his podium to get their attention. The effect of this was not as impressive as it might have been since Barkley was so short, the podium only made him slightly taller than his soldiers. He called the company to attention. “Soldiers. Listen up soldiers. Today is a very important day. It’s a very important day soldiers. I’m going to tell why it’s important.”
         “I wouldn’t put money on that,” Ron whispered to another of his friends, Dustin Stone. Stone snickered.
         “Paying attention to all instructions today is incredibly important. That being said, you are going to draw your Combat equipment today from CIF.” They way he said it, it was obvious Barkley was trying hard to suppress laughter. The entire formation groaned, except for one moron in the back who had the nerve to cheer.
         “CIF?” Ron shook his head miserably. “Talk about the worst way to spend eight hours.”
         Stone nodded. “Yeah. I think the people that work there must be paid by the hour, and they sit around and just think of ways to make it take forever.”
         “I know right.” Ron mimicked one of the CIF workers. “”Here you go sir, I think you need a giant-huge-enormous extra large…no? Okay, next size down…nope…we’re bound to find it eventually!’” Stone laughed, but Ward turned around to glare at him.
         “Hey Miller, shut up,” she said with barely concealed contempt. “You talk too much.”
         “Hey you semi-evolved simian, I wasn’t talking to you!” They glared daggers at each other, before Ward turned around, obviously just deciding to ignore him. Flournoy took that incredibly inappropriate time to nudge Ward with a grin. “Hey, you know Miller has a huge crush on you.”
         Ward’s head whipped around again, this time she looked extremely surprised. Ron stuttered in fury and said nothing apposite, or even coherent. The surprise on Ward’s face was slowly replaced with incredulous amusement. Ron’s face burned with unbelievable embarrassment, but she said nothing. With a self-satisfied smirk, she once again turned around to face the front. Uncomfortably aware that several people around him were staring, Ron stubbornly glowered at Ward’s back. Well, he thought miserably. That went well.

         The bus ride to CIF was a tense one. Flournoy was far from repentant, and he seemed to have no clue why Ron was so furious with him. “Hey man! Don’t be mad at me! At least now she knows! Who knows where it might lead?”
         “Oh yeah, because that was a real smooth first encounter. She must be absolutely swooning. I called her a Neanderthal for God’s sake!”
         “Well…ok. Yeah that was pretty bad. Then again, who knows? She might not even know what a simian is. I didn’t.”
         “Thanks. I feel so much better now. Leave me alone.” Flournoy just shrugged and leaned back, closing his eyes. This was exactly the reason Ron didn’t want Flournoy involved. Things might have been smoothed over eventually with time, but now she must just think he was a joke. Not that he wasn’t used to it. About ninety-five percent of the Human population thought he was a joke. He was a little unnerved by the fact that he actually cared what she thought of him. Flournoy was not known as an expert on human relationships, obviously, but was it possible that he was right? Was Ron in love? Ridiculous! At the most, it was a crush, but on the whole, he decided he really didn’t like that girl. Not at all.
         As the entire Company predicted, the issues at CIF took hours. Once Ron, Stone and Flournoy finally received their equipment, they retreated to the shade under the facility’s steps to escape the blistering Arizona sunlight. The morning’s tension forgotten, the three of them enjoyed themselves goofing off and being obnoxious. Ron noticed that, for some reason, Ward was hanging out near their group, engaging them in occasional conversation. Ron didn’t want to start any problems, and was as polite as possible. He still didn’t like her. She was full of herself, and thought she could talk down to him. But still, though he would rather have gone through CIF every day for a month than admit it to Flournoy, he was secretly happy she was hanging out with them. Ron sighed. This was going to be a long five months.

         That night, as he was shopping for candy at the shoppette, his phone buzzed. A text message, but he didn’t recognize the number. Usually, he would have just ignored such a mysterious missive, but his curiosity was piqued. He pressed the “view” button.
         <So is it true?>
         Ron frowned. That was incredibly vague, and he said so in his reply message. He waited impatiently for the answer.
         <Do you really like me?>
         His heart jumped in his throat. Why was Ward texting him? And more importantly, how did she get his phone number? <I’m just going out on a limb here. Is this Ward?>
         <Yeah. Answer the question.>
         What the hell was he supposed to say? Yeah. He liked her. She was infuriating, domineering, and, frankly, a little bitchy at times. But he liked her. A lot. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was. She complemented him perfectly. His brand of cynical sarcasm needed a balance, and she was perfect. Could he tell her that? Oh God, if Flournoy ever found out, he would be impossible to live with. That little gloating smile he’d get…Ron felt hot just thinking about it. He didn’t care. Flournoy was right about one thing. It was time he took a chance.
         <I’m waiting. Come on, I’m a big girl. I can take it.> She sounded impatient.
         <Yeah. I like you. I don’t think it would work out though. I mean, I talk way too much, remember?>
         <Lol. Sorry about that. I was just giving you a hard time. I think it’s actually kind of cute. I like you too, I just don’t want to get myself into trouble.>
         <Well, what do you say I buy you breakfast at the DFAC tomorrow morning?>
         <That sounds great. I’ll see you then. By the way, call me Kris.>
         “Wow, that’s really sweet.” Flournoy’s voice startled Ron from behind. He was leaning against the video rental display, where he was just able to read the phone screen, grinning. “You know what? I love being right.”