Friendly Fire

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ONE

ELIANA RICHARDS

CIA Academy, 2017

Diary Entry

This is all one big joke.

That is the only realistic explanation for what just happened. Or there has to be an exchange program or some sort of thing, because I’m pretty sure he said he wanted to follow the military route. His dream was to become a SEAL one day. Not that I think he would ever have the potential to be part of the most badass special forces in the world. But he never cared for my opinion, anyway.

Protecting the world from foreign dangers and enemies was all I ever wanted, so heading for a career at the CIA was the way to go. It felt right for me to do this. The odds were against me, my teachers were against me, hell, even my own father was against me. But I passed the test at the CIA academy with flying colors and started my journey to get a Bachelor of Science in Criminal Justice. They barely let you work at the CIA without an academic background, but thankfully they offer various programs, a lot of them at the CIAU here in Chantilly, Virginia. Not exactly the place to be, but the place I needed to be for the next six to seven semesters, depending on how much I would struggle, to follow my dream and become a CIA Agent.

The other girls of my senior year wanted to become doctors or teachers or “something in business”, but I always knew I wanted to protect the world. Protect the world from people whose only purpose was to infiltrate and destroy.

Mihaela, my best friend, went for the teacher path, as well. But not in the classical way. She decided to study mathematics and computer science. That girl is more than just crazy. I mean mathematics?!

I would prefer a week-long training in torture methods before attending one class of mathematics again. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t bad at mathematics. But I just don’t understand who came to the glorious idea to include letters in mathematical equations. LETTERS! Why?

Aren’t we having enough beautiful numbers to torture? I think I will never get it.

But I shouldn’t risk my good karma with math, because to my big surprise, we had math and even statistics classes in our bachelors. Hopefully, Mihaela would be able to help me with that in case statistics has the big goal to destroy me. I’ve heard from the students that showed us around on orientation day that you either love it or fail it. There was nothing in between. Great heads-up. Thank you for the encouraging words…

But with Mihaela only a phone call away, I was sure I would pass it. At least I hoped.

Unfortunately, statistics wasn’t going to be my biggest problem if it was really Peter Davis that I met on the campus today.

Peter Davis.

My high school rival.

Biggest asshole in the world.

And apparently not in one of the military academies I was expecting him to be .

Did he fail the SEAL requirements? That would be funny, though. That arrogant asshole was very sure he would make it easily. I can still see the fucking smirk on his face when Mihaela told him that only a handful of cadets pass the tests every year. He was sure he would be one of them.

Apparently not.

That would give me enough chances to make fun of him about that. But the fact that he came to the CIA academy instead made him a pain in the ass the upcoming three years.

Of course, the first thing I did was call Mihaela and tell her about Peter. You wouldn’t believe what she had answered:

“Futu-I” (in English: Fuck)

Yes, that’s a freaking curse word in Romanian. My precious little Mihaela, someone who didn’t even curse when breaking her arm after falling down the stairs in Junior Year. The woman who I would bet 100 dollars on that she doesn’t even have the brain function to curse. This woman cursed. That was big. And shocking.

Probably the same amount of shock than seeing Peter walking in front of me in the cafeteria. I wasn’t sure if it was him when my eyes first caught his features, but as soon as he turned to the side to talk to one of his new classmates, his profile was very surely Peter Davis. Looked like mother nature was kind to him, because he not only built some muscles over summer, but also finally had a bit of a beard. Well, it wasn’t more as a little scruff around his jaw, but it suited him well.

Wait, no. I don’t even start to think that he looked good. I should focus on him being a big asshole instead. Even if he were Adonis himself, I don’t care about him. Even the best built body can not overshadow a venomous character.

Oh, Peter Davis.

These will be three very annoying years…