"Try not to kill anyone on our team this week, Captain Mathis," she whispers to me.
Thank god she's a bitch.
We listen to the announcements and go to our assigned activity. The first day of camp is an easy one filled with activities meant to familiarize the kids with everything and help build a sense of teamwork.
I'm optimistic about the physical activity and building a team. It's what I do in Iraq. We aren't in war, but the environment is familiar. Confident and eager, I'm starting to think even being stuck with Katya can't fuck today up.
***
Hours later, I know how wrong I was to underestimate her. The kids are better disciplined and easier to work with.
By the end of the first full day, I'm ready to drag Katya back to her brother and demand a trade. Never mind that she couldn't follow instructions to save her life or the fact she didn't wear the right shoes for the trail hike and outright refused to paddleboat or the way she rolls her eyes at me whenever I'm working with the kids.
It's the fact we can't interact without something hanging between us. Anger, tension, frustration … I can't name what it is, but it taints every conversation we have. We aren't on the same page.
We aren't even in the same fucking library. I'm at a loss as to how to bridge that gap, though, which is something that never happens to me. I can learn to work with anyone - but her.
It's nine o'clock, and I'm in front of the barracks. The kids are in bed at eight like I predicted, completely zonked after their long day. I'm not sure where Katya is, another of my issues with her. She can't seem to understand the point of teamwork and communication. At all. How hard is it to tell me she's stepping out for ten minutes?
Right now, it's a good thing she's not around.
I try to tell myself she's got a merit or two. The kids love her, and she's great with them. She's as warm as I'm cold. They obey me and flock to her. With them, there's none of the tension or snarkiness she displays with me. The food she planned leaves me wishing for more, but is at least healthy and her intentions good. At the very least, she's not cooking.
But I can't recall ever working with someone this stubborn and oblivious.
I sit on the stairs of the barracks, comfortable with the warm evening air. Our team is the only one racked out, while lights glow in the windows of the other barracks.