Raising Avon Read online

  Chapter 3

  Jeremy woke the next morning. It was early. The sun was not yet up. He was surprised there were no lingering effects from cracking his head open in the shower. He wanted to work out. He liked keeping in shape. He liked the endorphin high he experienced when pushing his body further and further. Crawling out of bed, he donned his PT uniform and started stretching. After two hundred sit-ups, he began his push-ups. Finishing the first one hundred, he began the second hundred. He could feel the sweat covering his torso, his back, and his arms. He could feel his muscles restrict and contract, becoming tauter.

  He remembered how thin he was when first entering the Academy. He was malnourished then compared to how fit he now was. Before the Academy, he was lucky to eat once a day. Now he ate whatever and whenever he wanted. Before the Academy, he was nothing but skin and bones. Now he was muscular and toned. He smiled.

  Jeremy was still counting to three hundred when he realized he was being watched. "Do you do PT every day?" Avon asked peering into the room.

  Jeremy nodded as he continued to count. As he reached two hundred and fifty, he continued. Today's goal was three hundred and he was sure he would reach it. Avon watched as each muscle rippled on Jeremy's arms and back. Through the soaking wet skin tight t-shirt; Avon could see just how fit Jeremy was. Now she understood why her father had picked Jeremy. He was a machine. He would ensure she was ready for her evals. "Breakfast?" Avon asked as she watched his muscles quiver.

  "Two hundred and seventy-seven," Jeremy groaned and then lowered his body to the floor. "Yes."

  "I found a bar of soap," Avon smiled holding it out. "Let me show you how to operate the shower. You clean up and I'll set the table."

  "Do you always eat formally?"

  "It's what I know," Avon shrugged as she moved towards the bathroom. Jeremy stood and followed. Avon opened the shower door and reached in. She turned the lever half way to the left. Then she tested the water. "It's warm enough. If you want it warmer, move it slightly to the left, but only a little at a time. After you are thoroughly wet, rub the soap all over your body. It will remove the dirt and sweat. Then rinse all the soap off."

  "Thank you," Jeremy whispered and took the soap from her proffered hand.

  "What would you like for breakfast?"

  "I can order my own breakfast," Jeremy replied.

  "I know you can but I'm trying to be a gracious host. This is my apartment and you are a guest. It's the least I can do."

  "Three egg omelet with bacon, cheese, and tomatoes. Hash browns, mango juice and toast with butter and loganberry jam."

  "Coffee?"

  "Tarian with double sugar and goat's milk."

  Avon nodded and walked away. Jeremy stripped and placed his PT uniform into the sanitizer stall to be cleaned. Then he walked into the shower. The warm water did feel good. He tilted back his head and let the water stream over his head and face and then down his body. Rubbing the soap over his body, it felt strange but enjoyable. He liked it. He liked the scent of the soap. He held out his arm and chuckled in amusement at the tiny bubbles and lather on his skin.

  After dressing, Jeremy joined Avon in the kitchen. She had set up the breakfast bar with breakfast for both of them. "Less formal," she quipped with a small grin. Jeremy looked at his breakfast and then at hers; coffee, juice, half a piece of toast and a small bowl of mixed fruit. He didn't say a thing. Avon had today to eat the way she wanted. He would wait.

  Avon watched in merriment as Jeremy ate. "Was it hard growing up the way you did?"

  "Why do you ask?"

  "I just see how much you enjoy eating. It is because you didn't have much growing up?"

  Jeremy knew Avon was not just curious, she was honestly interested. But talking about his childhood was not something he liked sharing. He had worked his way out of the slums. However, it hadn't won him any friends. Even at the Academy, he didn't fit in. Most of the cadets were from affluent or career military families. Jeremy came from neither. He came from a poor family. Well, not a family. It was just him and his mother. His father was killed when he was but a toddler. His mother worked twelve hours a day just to keep a rickety roof over their head and to eat once a day. The shack had a dirt floor and no running water. There was electricity; one overhead light. They had two thin mats which they used as their beds. There were no pillows and only a thin blanket each. Their personal possessions were few. A few changes of clothing which Jeremy's mother kept immaculately clean and pressed. Jeremy's first set of new clothing was his cadet uniform. He remembered how proud his mother was the first time she saw him in it. He remembered the tears running down her face as she smiled. They were everything to one another. They were all they had. It was during the summer break after Jeremy's first year at the Academy when his mother was killed. Jeremy had saved every bank credit he could in order to move her into a small apartment just outside the slums. After fifteen years of surviving in the slums, she was killed just one month after they had moved into the apartment on her way home from work. It was only because of Jeremy's admission into the Academy and being an active duty cadet which spurred the local constable to pursue the investigation. A week later the man who had murdered his mother was convicted and led to a speedy death. Jeremy returned to the Academy, never returning to the apartment. He sold it just weeks after his mother's death. With no family, no home, he spent his summers at the Academy and graduated a year early.

  "I don't like being hungry," Jeremy replied solemnly. "Plus you don't get to look like this eating like that," he added, flexing his biceps and then pointing at Avon's breakfast.

  Avon nodded but did not push Jeremy for more information. It was clear he did not want to talk about it. Plus she already knew his story; or at least the story on file.

  "Are you wearing your dress uniform tonight?" Avon asked to change the subject.

  "Yes," he replied curtly.

  Avon was surprised by Jeremy's tone. "Have I done something to offend you?" she asked.

  "I'm sorry. My childhood is nothing like the fairytale life you had. It wasn't until I was at the Academy that I realized just how bad it was. Growing up, it was all I knew. I didn't know about all this," he stated looking about the room and waving his hand around his head. "It's not something I like talking about. It's my history. But it's just that, history. It's done and it's over with."

  "So you hate me because I grew up privileged," Avon growled. "I'm not going to apologize to you or anyone for who I am or how I was raised. You don't like it; it's your problem, not mine." Then she stood and stormed away.

  Jeremy quickly realized he had pushed Avon's buttons. He was sure of it when he heard her slam her bedroom door shut. She had offered the proverbial olive branch by showing him how to use the shower and ordering his breakfast. She had shown concern. And he had lashed out the only way he knew; by shutting down and snapping at her. Day two was not looking much better than day one of his assignment. And there were still twelve hours separating breakfast and the party.