Page 6 of My All American Girl

3

SARAH

The server carried our tray of tequila shots to the tables we had commandeered for our graduation celebration.

The bar was filled with fellow graduates, their loved ones, and a few faculty members who were brave enough to join the raucous festivities. The air was thick with joy and relief. We’d survived four years of relentless training and tests, and now we were officially starting our military careers.

I was the only one in our group with high hopes of being a fighter pilot. It was a lofty goal. I was fully aware it was cutthroat and extremely difficult to actually make it into the program and then to succeed.

But I was determined. When I set my mind to something, I gave it my all. I had been proving people wrong my whole life and I wasn’t going to stop now.

My eyes scanned the room, resting on the familiar faces of my friends, some looking worse for wear after too many shots. I was already feeling the effects of the drinks I had consumed but this would be one of the last times I really got to party. Once I got to my next station, it was going to be me keeping my head down and busting ass.

“To the future!” Maddie declared, holding up her shot glass.

We clinked our glasses together in a chorus of cheers before letting the tequila burn down our throats. At first, the heat was overwhelming, causing my eyes to water, but then it melted into a warm glow that spread throughout my body.

This was it. We had made it. After all those late-night cramming sessions, rigorous physical training, and countless other trials and tribulations, we had finally made it through the academy.

“I’ll be back,” I said. “My throat is on fire.”

I made my way to the bar and ordered a pitcher of beer for our group. As I carried it back to our table, cheers erupted around me from one of the other tables celebrating.

I filled the glasses we already had at the table after our first pitcher. Or maybe it was our second. I was quickly losing count.

I raised my glass high and grinned. “You know what time it is.”

Maddie groaned. “Not again.”

“We like the Air Force!” I shouted, my voice rising above the din of the crowd. It was the chant we had probably done hundreds of times.

I waited. I knew they couldn’t resist. Everyone joined in.

“We like the Air Force, Air Force can party, party hardy, party hardy all night long!”

As we finished the chant, everyone tipped their heads back and downed their beers. Maddie slung an arm around my shoulders, her laughter mingling with mine. We were going in different directions. I was a little sad that we weren’t going to get to hang out again like this. We were all intent on making the most of our last night together.

One of the guys at our table got loud talking about his latest conquest. The story was amplified by the alcohol running through his veins. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t suppress a laugh. That was Joker for you, always boasting and trying to be the center of attention. Everyone knew his stories were bullshit but we played along.

One of my other friends burst into raucous laughter and shoved him, causing him to stumble back. We all laughed, giving him shit for being too drunk to keep his balance.

He came back to us, red-faced and laughing. Our fun was cut short when a group of guys, clearly intoxicated, stomped over to our table.

“Fuck, man,” one guy said. “Keep it down. You guys are way too fucking loud.”

The smart move would have been to brush them off and continue without a care in the world. But dammit, I was just not built that way. No one talked shit to me or my friends. Maybe I felt like I had something to prove. People looked at my petite stature and assumed since I was small, I wasn’t a threat.

They were wrong.

“We’re celebrating our graduation,” I retorted defiantly. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.”

The guy took a couple of staggering steps closer. His face was flushed, and his eyes were glazed over. I had seen enough bar fights during my time in the academy to know when one was about to start. I swiftly stood, positioning myself between him and my friends.

“Is that so?” He sneered, swaying slightly on his feet. “Well, we’re celebrating too. You’re not the only ones have something to celebrate, sweetheart.”

Hot rage flooded my veins like lava, but I didn’t let it show on my face. Never let your opponent see you coming.

“Then celebrate at your own table,” I said coolly. It was my attempt at defusing the situation.