She shrugged. “There’s not much to explain. If my mom and my tutors hadn’t been working with me every second of every day since birth, there is no way I’d have made it this far at the Academy. Studying is impossible for me. The words just won’t stay in place, and my brain is apparently made of Swiss cheese.” She took another bite of her salad as she pulled the book back off my lap.

I watched her try to study, my brain churning. I’d always loved to read, devouring book after book in the library in my free time. What did she mean by saying the words wouldn’t stay in place? Words didn’t move. It was one of my favorite things about them. I thought back to all the extra tutoring she’d received over the years, a fact that I’d always been more than a little jealous of. I’d always assumed it was yet another perk of being the commander’s kid and that she was just plain lazy and slacking off in classes. Before I could ask her any more, the bell rang, and we had to hurry to throw away our half-eaten salads before our afternoon of simulation training began. I ignored Sam’s nod of approval as I sat down next to Regan five minutes later. Partially because that nod was obnoxious, but mostly because I was too busy trying to remind her of every important piece of information we may need about the morning of Pearl Harbor. Which, as it turned out, was completely pointless since the simulation ended up being on the launch of Apollo 11. Figures.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Regan

The days at the mountain quickly developed their own rhythm, despite the ever-changing schedule that always put Elliot in a foul mood. But I was getting used to the foul moods, even learning to read them a bit. It was like he had his own grumpy language, and if you hung around long enough you could pick up a word here or there. Thankfully he hadn’t directed all that grumpy at me recently. A fact I more than appreciated.