The Nerdy Dozen by Jeff Miller

snapped, stowing one-seventeenth of her passions away from eyesight.
    Trevor mimicked a response and then fell in line as Neil, Sam, and Biggs turned to head down the hallway to the Decider. Neil glanced back at the two boys trailing behind with Trevor. For having the same name, they couldn’t have looked more different. Jason 1 was African American, with short buzzed hair. He was only an inch shorter than Biggs, the tallest recruit, and moved with an athletic energy. Jason 2, on the other hand, had a huge, almond-shaped head, with oversize round ears and a small ski ramp of a nose. Moles dotted his pale skin, like Cocoa Puffs in a sea of skim milk. He was quiet and always seemed to have his hands shoved down into his pants pockets.
    â€œHey, Ashley, if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll teach you to actually fly one of those fighters someday,” Trevor challenged as he caught Neil’s stare.
    â€œYeah? Well, you’re lucky that the sim training was only three rounds, because Neil would have destroyed you in the next one,” Sam retorted.
    â€œOoh, Ashley’s new girlfriend gonna do the talking for him?” Trevor laughed.
    â€œI knew from the way he flies that that kid would be a jerk,” Sam said under her breath, rolling her eyes.
    Neil said nothing. He couldn’t think about anything except what was up ahead, the mysterious challenge that would determine his fate. The Decider.

“THIS WAY, RECRUITS,” LOPEZ SAID, WAVING THEM THROUGH an open door that could only lead to the Decider. Everyone gulped and then, one by one, filed inside.
    The first thing that struck Neil was the bright light. Early-morning sunlight shone through a glass ceiling onto an open, expansive facility. Neil could see the edges of mountains outside the glass, the base securely nestled in a mountain range.
    Directly below the glass dome, and taking up the entire room, was a mammoth, snaking obstacle course. By Neil’s count, it boasted seven different challenges, starting with dangling tires to crawl through and then segueing into a series of horizontal wooden rails to hop over and crawl under. Next were cargo nets, monkey bars, and swinging ropes, all over a pit of drab brownish water and a springy rectangular trampoline for them to jump across a deep, muddy trench. That led up to a ten-foot-tall wooden climbing wall. At the top was a platform where a cowbell hung suspended from a fraying rope. As Neil studied the course, an air horn blasted, shaking his concentration and his nerves.
    â€œRecruits, welcome to the Decider.” Jones waved an arm at the array of equipment before them.
    â€œIn order to fly with the Air Force, every recruit has to finish the course in under seventy-five seconds. But since you may not all have the, ah, physical skills , let’s just say a completion of the course will suffice.”
    Neil rubbed his biceps, or at least the areas of his arms where biceps were meant to be. I’ve got physical skills , he thought. Like opening bags of chips. Or tricky pickle jars.
    â€œWells and Lopez will show you all how it’s done. To this day, they hold the two fastest times, separated by only a half second.”
    The two soldiers calmly bumped their fists together, clearly proud of their records. Neil winced at the thought of how hard their knuckles must be.
    â€œOur first-place finisher is guaranteed a seat on the Chameleon for the mission,” Jones announced.
    I’m getting in that jet fighter , Neil thought furiously.
    â€œOh, and you also get this,” he added, holding up a platinum-colored cowbell trophy, a sparkling replica of the one signaling the noisy finish line of the obstacle course. “‘The Decision Maker.’ Standard reward for the fastest new recruit.”
    Neil’s eyes lit up, and he wondered how much space it would take up on his living-room mantel. It was as big as at least eight or nine of Janey’s karate awards put