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Authors: D. H. Cameron
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Not after how I left things.
“Whatever his name is. He wanted to talk to you,” she said.
“When?” I asked, my excitement getting the best of me. She was convinced it was Hunter and I discovered I hoped she was right.
“I don’t know. Fifteen minutes ago. What’s going on, Melinda?” Daisy asked accusingly.
“Did he say anything else?” I asked, ignoring her question.
“You fucked him again, didn’t you?” she asked. That got my attention. Not so much the question but the way she asked, as if she was disgusted by the thought.
“Um...that’s none of your business,” I replied.
“Holy shit, you did. When? Over the Holidays?” she pressed, more a statement than a question.
“What does it matter?” I countered.
“He’s a fucking Marine. He’s the enemy. He’s the face of everything we stand against. How could you?” she said. That shocked me. I knew Daisy was militant but I didn’t realize it went that deep.
“He’s not the enemy, Daisy. He’s just a person who happens to be in the military,” I argued.
“Who happens to be a cold-blooded killer. You told me he was Recon. Do you know what they do? They don’t shuffle paperwork or repair radios. They kill people. Melinda, he’s a tool of the military-industrial complex and he’s willingly fighting in our government’s illegal wars. He’s not part of the problem, he is the problem,” she told me.
“I know what he is. I know who he is...inside. You’re wrong about him,” I said in Hunter’s defense. I wasn’t completely aware of it, but getting to know Hunter, falling for him, had changed my outlook. I was never as militant as Daisy but something had shifted inside of me. I would never have defended a Marine before I met Hunter even if I didn’t see them as the enemy.
“You’ve gone soft. He got to you. Fuck, he got to you,” Daisy accused.
“He didn’t get to me. What are you talking about?” I asked. She sounded paranoid.
“He seduced you. He told you you’re pretty and made you feel special and then filled your head with his propaganda. A little sex and suddenly you’re one of them. Can’t you see what he’s doing? He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t think you’re attractive. He’s using you,” Daisy said.
Wow! Is that what she really thought? Did she think so little of me? Was I only a friend as long as we marched in lockstep ideologically? Apparently so.
“I don’t know what to say. You’ve managed to insult me in at least half a dozen ways. I slept with a guy and...,” I said, stopping as the truth of that hit me. It wasn’t just sex. There was a connection there. My activism paled in comparison to the way Hunter made me feel. The intensity of my passion for stopping the wars didn’t fade. Instead, I found my feelings for Hunter were that much stronger. The wars, the politics, the fight just didn’t seem to matter in the big scheme of things when I was with Hunter.
“If that’s what it takes to knock some sense into you, Melinda. You’re blowing it big time. Next thing I know, you’ll be married, knocked up and sending care packages to your very own murderer,” she said, sarcasm and viciousness oozing from her words. I stood there, stunned. Had I changed so much or was I just now seeing Daisy for who she really was?
I’d known her only since September and I assumed her vigorous protesting was just that, trying to get her message out. But now I saw her zeal went deeper. It was hate. Hate that was directed now at me and Hunter specifically. But as I learned the truth about my roommate, I discovered truths about myself too. I would never abandon my positions but I fought against war out of love. Daisy did so, apparently, out of hate.
“What else did Hunter say?” I asked her, choosing to ignore her ranting and not take the bait.
“Even if he said something, I wouldn’t tell you. I’m not going to be a
“Whatever his name is. He wanted to talk to you,” she said.
“When?” I asked, my excitement getting the best of me. She was convinced it was Hunter and I discovered I hoped she was right.
“I don’t know. Fifteen minutes ago. What’s going on, Melinda?” Daisy asked accusingly.
“Did he say anything else?” I asked, ignoring her question.
“You fucked him again, didn’t you?” she asked. That got my attention. Not so much the question but the way she asked, as if she was disgusted by the thought.
“Um...that’s none of your business,” I replied.
“Holy shit, you did. When? Over the Holidays?” she pressed, more a statement than a question.
“What does it matter?” I countered.
“He’s a fucking Marine. He’s the enemy. He’s the face of everything we stand against. How could you?” she said. That shocked me. I knew Daisy was militant but I didn’t realize it went that deep.
“He’s not the enemy, Daisy. He’s just a person who happens to be in the military,” I argued.
“Who happens to be a cold-blooded killer. You told me he was Recon. Do you know what they do? They don’t shuffle paperwork or repair radios. They kill people. Melinda, he’s a tool of the military-industrial complex and he’s willingly fighting in our government’s illegal wars. He’s not part of the problem, he is the problem,” she told me.
“I know what he is. I know who he is...inside. You’re wrong about him,” I said in Hunter’s defense. I wasn’t completely aware of it, but getting to know Hunter, falling for him, had changed my outlook. I was never as militant as Daisy but something had shifted inside of me. I would never have defended a Marine before I met Hunter even if I didn’t see them as the enemy.
“You’ve gone soft. He got to you. Fuck, he got to you,” Daisy accused.
“He didn’t get to me. What are you talking about?” I asked. She sounded paranoid.
“He seduced you. He told you you’re pretty and made you feel special and then filled your head with his propaganda. A little sex and suddenly you’re one of them. Can’t you see what he’s doing? He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t think you’re attractive. He’s using you,” Daisy said.
Wow! Is that what she really thought? Did she think so little of me? Was I only a friend as long as we marched in lockstep ideologically? Apparently so.
“I don’t know what to say. You’ve managed to insult me in at least half a dozen ways. I slept with a guy and...,” I said, stopping as the truth of that hit me. It wasn’t just sex. There was a connection there. My activism paled in comparison to the way Hunter made me feel. The intensity of my passion for stopping the wars didn’t fade. Instead, I found my feelings for Hunter were that much stronger. The wars, the politics, the fight just didn’t seem to matter in the big scheme of things when I was with Hunter.
“If that’s what it takes to knock some sense into you, Melinda. You’re blowing it big time. Next thing I know, you’ll be married, knocked up and sending care packages to your very own murderer,” she said, sarcasm and viciousness oozing from her words. I stood there, stunned. Had I changed so much or was I just now seeing Daisy for who she really was?
I’d known her only since September and I assumed her vigorous protesting was just that, trying to get her message out. But now I saw her zeal went deeper. It was hate. Hate that was directed now at me and Hunter specifically. But as I learned the truth about my roommate, I discovered truths about myself too. I would never abandon my positions but I fought against war out of love. Daisy did so, apparently, out of hate.
“What else did Hunter say?” I asked her, choosing to ignore her ranting and not take the bait.
“Even if he said something, I wouldn’t tell you. I’m not going to be a
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