It was Monday, halfway through the school day, and my mind was still trapped in one thought — what am I going to say to Bob, and how do I tell him I'm quitting the job?
I was so lost in thought that I didn't even hear the teacher call my name — not once, not twice, but three times. My silence earned me detention during break. I didn't argue. My head was too heavy with everything else.
As soon as school ended, I packed my bag and prepared to sprint home. I wanted to avoid running into Bull — Chad — the last person I wanted to see. But luck was finally on my side. His math grades had dropped, and the teacher had decided to hold him for extra classes after school. For once, I could walk home without the usual fear of being cornered.
After changing out of my school clothes, I headed to see Bob.
When I knocked on the door, he looked surprised to see me standing there.
"Everything alright?" he asked.
I nodded. "Yeah… everything's fine. I just wanted to talk about something."
He stepped aside and invited me in. "Come on in, then."
He told his wife to bring some snacks, and even she looked surprised to see me. Bob reassured her, saying, "He's just here to chat about something."
When she came into the living room with a plate of snacks, she noticed I looked nervous. "You seem uneasy. What's wrong?"
I hesitated. "I'm not sure how to say this… but I think I want to quit the job."
The room fell quiet. Both of them stared at me in shock.
"Quit?" Bob asked. "If it's about the pay, you could've just asked for a raise."
I stayed silent for a moment before replying, "It's not about money. I got a new job offer. I don't really want to leave, but I can't do both. And… I think I might have a future in this one."
They exchanged a look, disappointment written on their faces, but Bob finally nodded. "If that's how you feel, we understand. But remember, if you ever need anything — a job, advice, anything — we'll always be here for you."
Their kindness made it even harder to say goodbye. I thanked them, stayed for a little while longer, and then left.
Before heading home, I stopped by the market. After searching for a while, I found a blue bicycle that caught my eye — $250, sturdy and perfect for what I needed. It felt like a step toward a new life.
Next, I needed to speak with my landlady.
Around 6:00 p.m., I knocked on her door. She opened it and gave me a sharp look.
"If you're here to tell me you can't pay next month's $1500 rent, you're wasting both our time," she said bluntly.
I shook my head. "No, I'm here to let you know I'll be moving out on Wednesday. Could I get my security deposit back? You can cut the rent for the remaining days from it."
She stared at me for a second, then sighed. "Alright. You'll get your money in the morning. Just hand me the keys tomorrow or Wednesday."
When I got back, I started packing — not that I had much. Three pairs of clothes, some books, a toothbrush, and the money I'd been saving. I placed everything in a box and went to bed, ready to leave my old life behind.
---
The next day, Tuesday, after school, I loaded my box and school bag onto my new bicycle. I dropped off the keys at the landlady's house and headed toward the base.
At the gate, the same two soldiers from Saturday were standing guard. As soon as they saw me, they asked for my bag and box to "check" before letting me in. I knew what they were doing — it wasn't about security. It was about sending a message: You don't belong here.
Jenny walked by during the whole thing but said nothing. Not a word. She didn't stop them. Maybe she thought the same as everyone else — that I didn't belong here.
Once they were done checking, they handed back my things and told another soldier to keep an eye on me, making sure I went only to the 101st living quarters. They even checked me again before letting me through.
When I finally stepped inside, everyone from the team was there — everyone except John. Their eyes followed me, cold and unwelcoming. Then a girl with white hair stepped forward.
"Don't move. Don't touch anything until John gets back — if you know what's good for you," she said sharply.
I didn't dare speak.
After about five minutes, John entered. "Oh, glad you made it in time," he said, eyeing my box and bag. "Is this all your stuff?"
"Yes, sir," I replied. "And the bicycle outside."
He raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Instead, he led me to my room and explained how things would work from now on.
"You'll wake up around 5:00 a.m. and run with me and the team," John said. "After that, you'll get ready for school. Once school ends, you'll come straight back here — eat, train for three to four hours every day. Saturdays will be triple training. Sundays are supposed to be off… but if you mess up, that becomes training too."
I nodded, trying to absorb it all.
"One more thing," John added. "You'll also spend one hour at the gym daily. Understood?"
He turned to leave, but I called out, "John!"
He stopped. "Don't tell me you're giving up already."
"No," I said quickly. "I just wanted to return this." I handed him $250 — the leftover money from the $500 he'd given me.
John looked at it, then smiled faintly. "Keep it. It's yours now. Get settled in — I'll see you at dinner."
Dinner was… uncomfortable. No one smiled, no one spoke to me — not the soldiers, not the staff, not even the generals. But as long as John was sitting beside me, no one dared to say a word.
Afterward, I went back to my room. John's last words echoed in my mind:
> "Be ready. Tomorrow morning, things will be different for you."