I increased my speed.
So did he.
During the next mile, we gradually moved beyond the rest of the formation until the instructor called for us to fall back into place.
Briggs slowed.
“You trying to prove something?”
“You told me to move.”
“I didn't tell you to showboat.”
I nearly smiled.
That seemed to annoy him even more.
Later, inside the gym, he decided to correct my squat stance.
Nothing was wrong with it.
The instructor supervising the station had checked my form less than ten minutes earlier.
Briggs came up behind me anyway.
“Feet wider.”
I returned the bar to the rack.
“They're fine.”
He pointed at the floor.
“Wider.”
“Why?”
His forehead tightened.
“Because I said so.”
Two people nearby suddenly became very interested in listening.
Briggs leaned toward me.
“You know what your problem is?”
I waited.
“You think because somebody handed you a fancy assignment, you know more than people who've actually been doing this.”
I met his eyes.
“How long have you been doing this?”
His stare narrowed.
“Fourteen years.”
I nodded once.
“Then you know the instructor running this station already approved my form.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Briggs turned toward Staff Sergeant Daniels, the instructor managing the station.
“You approve that?”
Daniels looked uncomfortable.
“Yes.”
Briggs stared at him.
Daniels cleared his throat.
“Her form's good.”
Several seconds passed.
Then Briggs looked back at me and smiled.
There was nothing friendly in it.
“Fine.”
He walked away.
Later that afternoon, Daniels found me outside one of the classrooms.
He glanced in both directions before speaking.
“You need to be careful.”
“With my squat?”
He didn't smile.
“With Briggs.”
I said nothing.
“He doesn't forget things.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Being embarrassed.”
“I didn't embarrass him.”
Daniels gave me a weary look.
“You corrected him where other people could hear.”
“He was wrong.”
“That's not how he sees it.”
I studied Daniels.
He wasn't annoyed.
He wasn't amused.
He looked nervous.
“How does he see it?”
Daniels hesitated.
At that exact moment, someone opened the hallway door.
His entire posture shifted.
“Forget it.”
He walked away.
I remained there watching him disappear around the corner.
Then I opened the notebook again.
Tuesday, 1412. Daniels. Fear response when discussing Briggs. Possible prior incidents.
By Wednesday morning, the behavior had spread.
Somebody removed my gear from a bench and dropped it on the floor.
Two soldiers intentionally brushed their shoulders into mine while passing me in a corridor.
During lunch, three men at a nearby table spoke just loudly enough for me to hear their opinions about whether women belonged in certain combat positions.
Not one of them addressed me directly.
That detail mattered.
I wrote down their names.
That afternoon, during a tactical planning session, Briggs sat two rows behind me.
Captain Lewis, the instructor, was explaining communication failures during urban operations.
Briggs raised his hand.
“Sir, maybe Mitchell can explain satellite relay redundancy in mountainous terrain.”
Several people turned toward me.
The question had almost nothing to do with the material being covered.
Captain Lewis frowned.
“Why?”
Briggs shrugged.
“She knows everything.”
I turned halfway around.
“I don't work satellite communications.”
Briggs smiled.
“So you don't know?”
“Not beyond basic operational use.”
A few people laughed softly.
“There we go,” Briggs said. “Finally.”
I turned back toward the front.
Lewis continued the lesson.
When class ended, Briggs caught up with me outside.
“Doesn't feel good, does it?”
“What?”
“Not knowing.”
I stopped walking.
He stopped beside me.
I looked at him directly.
“Sergeant, do you believe competent people pretend to know things outside their expertise?”
His expression changed.
Two soldiers walking behind us slowed down.
I continued.
“Because where I work, pretending to know something you don't can get people hurt.”
His cheeks darkened.
“Careful.”
“With what?”
“That mouth.”
I gave him a small nod.
“Understood.”
Then I walked away.
That evening, I opened my locker and found a pink plastic tiara sitting inside.
It was the kind people bought for children's birthday parties, translucent pink decorated with cheap silver stars.
Someone had written PRINCESS across the front in black marker.
Three women were changing equipment nearby when I saw it.