The sun was a merciless drill instructor, beating down on the recruits as they crawled through the sand, rifles clutched tight, lungs burning. Jay Price's muscles screamed, his boots felt like lead weights, but his grin never wavered.
"Move it, maggots! You're slower than my grandma's funeral procession!" the DI barked.
Jay elbowed the guy next to him—Merwin, a lanky, loudmouth pervert with a face like a weasel who somehow made every sentence sound like a bad pickup line.
"Yo, Price," Merwin wheezed, sand sticking to his sweat-drenched face. "Your crawl looks like my ex trying to sneak outta my bed. Weak."
Jay snorted. "At least I don't sound like I'm dying after two push-ups, Merwin. You're embarrassing me."
"Nah, man, I'm conserving energy. Gotta save my stamina—for later." Merwin waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Jay rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, we all know about your special relationship with your bunk."
The second they were dismissed, Jay and Merwin stumbled toward the barracks like zombies, their fatigues soaked through.
"Man, I swear," Merwin groaned, peeling off his shirt. "If I wanted this much sand in my asscrack, I'd have joined a nude beach volleyball league."
Jay laughed, grabbing his footlocker and fishing out his phone. "Oh shit," he muttered. "Two missed calls from home."
Merwin flopped onto his bunk. "Damn, your mommy worried about you?"
"Shut up," Jay said, already dialing.
The line rang twice before a familiar, irritated voice answered.
"About time, dumbass!"
Jay's smirk softened. "Hey, Chloe."
"You suck at calling back," his little sister huffed. "Mom's been all, 'Oh, I hope he's not dead,' and I'm like, 'If he was dead, the Marines would've sent a letter, not a ghost call.'"
Jay chuckled. "Yeah, well, tell Mom I'm not dead. Just busy getting screamed at by a guy who thinks sand is a food group."
"Sounds super fun," Chloe drawled. "Wish I was there."
"No, you don't," Jay said, wiping sweat off his forehead. "How's Dad?"
"Same as always. Fixing the truck, pretending he knows how to cook. He burned pancakes yesterday. Like, how do you even do that?"
Jay laughed. "Classic Dad."
"Mom's good too," Chloe added, quieter. "She misses you."
Jay's chest tightened. "Yeah. I miss her too. You guys."
There was a pause. Then—
"So when are you coming back?" Chloe asked, trying to sound casual.
Jay hesitated. "Not for a while, Chlo. Got training, then… probably getting shipped out soon."
"Oh." A beat. "Well, don't die. That'd be lame."
Jay smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"PRICE!" Merwin's voice cut in. "Chow's in five, and if I gotta eat another MRE without your ugly face complainin' with me, I'm gonna lose it!"
Jay flipped him off. "Gotta go, Chloe. Tell Mom and Dad I'll call soon."
"Whatever," she muttered, but he could hear the smile. "Don't be a stranger, Jester."
The line clicked.
Jay exhaled, staring at the phone for a second before shoving it back in his footlocker.
Merwin slung an arm around his shoulders. "Aww, baby brother got emotional?"
Jay shoved him off. "Shut up. And if you call me 'baby brother' again, I'm telling the DI about your special magazine collection."
Merwin gasped in mock horror. "You monster."
Laughing, the two headed toward the mess hall to eat another terrible MRE.
******
[Location: Marine Corps Base, Camp Pendleton – 2007]
[Time: 0400]
A boot slammed into the side of Jay's bunk.
"PRICE! ON YOUR FEET, MAGGOT! You sleep like my dead grandma, and she's been in the ground ten years!"
Jay groaned, peeling his face off the sweat-stained pillow. His muscles ached like he'd been run over by a tank. Again.
Next to him, Merwin was already sitting up—not because he was motivated, but because he'd been caught "reading" Maxim under his blanket last night and was trying to look innocent.
"Yo, Price," Merwin yawned, scratching his stomach. "You look like hell warmed over. Nightmares 'bout the DI's face again?"
Jay flipped him off and rolled out of bed, his bare feet hitting the cold floor.
Across the room, three other recruits were in varying states of consciousness:
Darius "D-Block" Carter – A towering, muscle-bound Black guy who grinned like a maniac no matter how bad training got. Former college linebacker, now a Marine because, in his words, "I ran outta people to tackle legally."
Travis "Snark" Weller – A pale, wiry white guy with a resting sarcasm face. Joined up to "escape his shitty hometown," but mostly just complained in the most creative ways possible.
Marcus "Reaper" Hayes – The oldest of their little group at 22, a former gang member from Chicago who had the thousand-yard stare of a guy who'd seen too much, too young. Quiet, but when he spoke, everyone listened.
"Mornin', sunshine," D-Block said, slapping Jay's back hard enough to make him cough. "Ready to get smoked till you puke?"
Jay groaned. "I hate you all."
"Aw, he loves us," Snark drawled, lacing up his boots. "Just like how I love getting yelled at before the sun's up. Truly, the Marine Corps is a beautiful romance."
Reaper just shook his head and tossed Jay his canteen. "Drink. Gonna need it."
[0430 – PT]
The DI, a brick-shaped man with a voice like a chainsaw, lined them up in the predawn darkness.
"Today's special treat, ladies? Five-mile hump with full gear. And if one of you quitters falls out, all of you do it again. Understood?"
"SIR, YES SIR!"
Jay adjusted his pack, gritting his teeth as the weight settled onto his shoulders.
"This is bullshit," Snark muttered beside him. "I joined the Marines to shoot guns, not cosplay as a pack mule."
"Man, shut up," D-Block laughed, bouncing on his toes like this was a fun jog. "This ain't nothin'. Back in college, we did worse for fun."
"Yeah, well, back in civilization," Snark shot back, "we called this 'a human rights violation.'"
Reaper adjusted his rifle strap, unfazed. "Just move your feet. Ain't gotta like it. Just gotta do it."
The DI blew his whistle.
"MOVE OUT!"
———
By mile two, Jay's shirt was soaked through, his boots felt like concrete blocks, and his thighs were on fire.
Merwin wheezed beside him. "Yo, Price… if I die… tell my ex-girlfriends… I definitely loved them all equally."
Jay coughed out a laugh. "You're not dying, you drama queen."
"Oh, I might," Snark gasped, face red. "And when I do, I'm haunting the DI first. Gonna whisper 'motivational quotes' in his ear while he sleeps."
D-Block, somehow still grinning, clapped Snark on the back. "Man, you whine more than my little cousin at a dentist appointment."
Reaper, steady as a metronome, didn't even look winded. "Y'all weak. Back in my old neighborhood, we ran from cops and rival sets with heavier shit than this."
Jay smirked. "Yeah, well, we ain't built like you, Reap."
"Damn right," Reaper said, dead serious.
When they finally staggered back to the barracks, Jay's legs were jelly, his back screamed, and his soul was approximately 60% Gatorade at this point.
The DI eyed them like disappointed parents.
"Pathetic. But… you didn't quit. So, congrats. You're slightly less worthless than yesterday."
Snark wheezed. "Wow. I feel… so validated."
D-Block collapsed onto the ground, still grinning. "Man, that was fun."
Jay, Merwin, and Snark all turned to stare at him.
"You're a psychopath," Jay said.
"Certifiable," Snark agreed.
Reaper just nodded. "Told y'all he was crazy."
D-Block laughed, stretching his arms behind his head. "And that's why I'm your favorite."
Jay groaned, but he was smiling.
"Alright, morons," he said, hauling himself up. "Who's ready for chow?"
"Only if it's not MREs," Snark muttered.
"It's always MREs," Reaper said.
Merwin sighed. "…I miss real food."
And with that, the five of them limped toward the mess hall—exhausted, sore, and somehow, stupidly, laughing.
———
The barracks were quiet for once—no DI screaming, no Merwin cracking jokes about questionable life choices, just the low hum of exhausted Marines trying to savor the last few minutes of peace before lights out.
Jay sat on the edge of his bunk, phone in hand, staring at the cracked screen. Two missed calls from home this week. He'd been putting it off, telling himself he was too tired, too busy, but the truth was, he didn't like hearing the worry in his mom's voice.
"You gonna call or just keep makin' heart eyes at your phone?" Reaper's voice cut through the silence. He was leaning against his footlocker, sharpening his knife—because of course Reaper had a knife.
Jay exhaled. "Yeah, yeah. Just… gimme a sec."
D-Block, sprawled on his bunk like a starfish, grinned. "Aww, Price missin' his mama? That's adorable."
"Shut up, D," Jay muttered, but there was no heat in it.
Snark, draped over his own bunk like a corpse, didn't even open his eyes. "Let the man have his emotional moment. God knows you cry during rom-coms."
D-Block gasped, offended. "The Notebook is a masterpiece—"
Jay tuned them out and dialed.
The phone rang. Once. Twice.
Then—
"Hello?"
It was Chloe.
Jay's shoulders relaxed a fraction. "Hey, shitbird."
"Wow, rude," Chloe shot back, but he could hear the smirk. "You finally decided we exist, huh?"
"Yeah, well, I've been busy," Jay said, rubbing his face. "You know, defending freedom, being awesome, the usual."
"Uh-huh. Sounds super important."
Jay rolled his eyes. "How's Mom?"
"Worried," Chloe said, her tone shifting slightly. "She keeps asking if you've called. I told her you were probably off being a big tough Marine or whatever."
Jay winced. "Tell her I'm good. Just training's been hell."
"Yeah, I bet," Chloe said, and for a second, she sounded almost… impressed. Then, just as fast, she was back to sarcasm. "Dad says hi, by the way. Also, he fixed the truck again. I swear, that thing's held together by duct tape and hope."
Jay chuckled. "Sounds about right."
There was a pause. Then, quieter—
"You gonna be home soon?"
Jay's chest tightened. "Not for a while, Chlo."
"Oh." Another pause. "Well… don't die, I guess."
Jay smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."
"PRICE!" Merwin's voice echoed across the barracks. "Lights out in five, and if I gotta listen to your emotional reunion any longer, I'm gonna cry real tears!"
Jay flipped him off without looking. "Gotta go, Chloe. Tell Mom and Dad I'm good, alright?"
"Whatever," she muttered, but he could hear the smile. "Don't be a stranger, Jester."
The line clicked.
Jay exhaled, staring at the phone for a second before tossing it onto his bunk.
"Aww," D-Block cooed. "That was almost heartwarming."
"Almost," Snark agreed, finally opening his eyes. "Right up until Merwin ruined it."
"Hey, I'm a goddamn delight," Merwin protested.
Reaper just shook his head and sheathed his knife. "Go to sleep, dumbasses."
Jay grinned, stretching out on his bunk.
For the first time all day, he felt… lighter.
Then the lights went out.
And somewhere in the darkness, Snark muttered—
"If any of you snore, I'm smothering you with a pillow."
D-Block's laugh was the last thing Jay heard before sleep took him.