𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 | A Top Gun Fanfiction

Chapter 33: 𝘗𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘯 𝘗𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘴

"Stirrups...I thought you were staying at Maverick's?"

"I was," I mumble, finally sparing her a second look.

She furrows her brow and cranes her neck around the doorframe, clearly looking for some mode of transportation. When she realizes Maverick didn't bring me over on his bike, she snaps back into place, disbelief written in red letters across her face.

"Did you walk all the way here?"

Just say yes, I tell myself.

Alas, what can I say? I'm an overachiever.

"I ran the first half. Then I walked."

Despite her astonishment, Charlie has time for a bemused scoff. "C'mere, crazy girl," She mutters as she loops an arm around my shoulder and draws me inside the kitchen. I melt into her embrace, hardly ashamed of how much I need a hug. Call me crazy — which I guess she already did — but hugging Charlie feels like hugging an aunt. That hot, kind aunt who could've been your mother if your dad had just chosen the other sister. I was right to call this place home, 'cause wrapped up in Charlie's arms is the closest to home I've felt in a long long time, and it's all too soon that she's letting me go and hurrying down the hall to shout up the stairs, "Ghost! Wanna guess what pilot washed up on our front steps?!"

The distant whoosh of a door torn open leads to feet pounding down the stairs and then —

"You're back!"

"For the niiiii— oof!"

The girl practically leaped on me like a monkey, legs around my waist and everything. Laughing, we tumble backwards against the island.

"Sorry," Ghost giggles, giving me some space.

"So I guess that means you missed me?" I tease.

She blushes, "Don't let your head get too big, it'll break your neck." When I raise a skeptic brow, she giggles and adds, "Elvis said that."

The mere mention of Elvis inflates my heart. Not so much because he's gorgeous and famous and my childhood crush, but because Ghost remembers that I'm a fan and that he means a lot to me. That incredible attention to detail makes her the sweetest thing. In moments like these, even something so simple as a quote from the lips of an idol are like an extra big hug. Tears prick my eyes and I smile them away. With a wild shake of my head, I sigh and fling an arm around my RIO's shoulders, hauling her into a comfortable side hug.

"Oh Ghost, what would I do without you?"

Charlie steps back into the conversation with a pamphlet in hand.

"Pizza anybody?"

Needless to say, we're on board.

Once orders are made, Ghost and I hobble up the stairs to her room, where I immediately hog the entire bed, knowing perfectly well I'll need space to flail my limbs in tantrum fashion when she asks —

"So what happened with Maverick?"

Ghost perches at the foot of the bed.

Well, there go my tantrum plans.

Groaning, I toss an arm over my eyes and cough up an answer so stiff, it's almost robotic. "We had a fight."

A hand settles on my shin. "You don't have to tell me about it...but...you should know there's nothing wrong with having fights...it's healthy, actually, because it means you feel free to be vulnerable, to show flaws. False friends are only smiles. They're little happy puddles...cute, but no fun. You can't do much with them. Oceans rage and crash but you can swim, surf, dive in them...hardly anyone loves puddles. Everyone loves the sea."