𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 | A Top Gun Fanfiction

Chapter 38: 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘕𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘳 𝘕𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳

"So," Charlie sighs and takes a swig of her drink.

The salty breeze rifles her hair.

I tug on an obstinate ringlet that hangs over my brow. "So."

Charlie laughs. "You've stalled long enough, girl. What's going on?"

Where do I even begin?

"Iceman."

That's where I start. His name comes out so sharply, I immediately wish it back. I don't want to accuse him, but he's at the center of the drama, so I take the plunge, and spill my guts. Charlie is silent and attentive as I word vomit. It hadn't occurred to me how deep my bitterness ran until I opened the flood gates and watched it pour out.

Forgotten, the beer licked condensation across my bare legs as I floundered through my words, bleeding out my frustration with Iceman's interest in Ghost and the fear of him hurting her. I recount every spark of humility, where I convinced myself of Iceman's positive qualities and tried to forgive him, only for his arrogance to bite me in the ass. Each failure to befriend him hammered a nail in the coffin. I'm not sure if I'm helping by drudging up the past, but it feels good to say it out loud, so I plow on through 'til the end of the story thus far.

"We fought, at the reception."

"So I heard."

I glance at Charlie.

She heard from someone else or heard the fight firsthand? It's impossible to say which she means. Charlie takes another sip of beer. "So," She grips a corner of her sleeve and dabs the corner of her mouth. "What happened?"

"Iceman was lording the trophy over us — over Maverick — and I guess I could've kept quiet...I mean Maverick seemed fine..."

"But?"

"But," I sigh, sick of hearing myself talk. To back out now would be stupid. I've come all this way to tell her that I've messed things up with Ghost. I have to see it through. "I opened my trap and called Iceman out, which started a whole back and forth and Ghost was upset. She tried to stop us, but Maverick ended up having the last word. Now she's mad at Iceman...and me...and I don't know what to do. I...I know I should apologize but I'd be lying. I didn't want to hurt her, but God, Iceman was being such a dick! What gives him the right to talk to Maverick like they're old soccer rivals? This isn't some stupid playoff, this is about Goose. Screw graduating top of the class, Maverick just needs to recover, and when he's getting close, Iceman swoops in to make him feel small. He even accused us of being 'touchy feely.'"

I scoff with the scrap of air that's left in my chest and sink back against the wicker chair.

Well...there it is.

I'm surprised Ghost didn't suddenly appear in the middle of my vent.

That would've been awkward.

A little more awkward than Charlie is being right now. I've said all I have to say, and she's just quietly sitting there. You know when you make a joke, and you laugh, but nobody else does? That harrowing silence after a shitty attempt at humor?

Imagine that times ten.

I grab my cold beer from between my thighs and take my first sip of the evening. The foamy head tickles the back of my throat, parched from all the talking I've done. It trickles, cool and earthy all the way down. The condensation gathered along the bottle itself is colder than the breeze whipping over the waves.

I drink half the beer to settle the discomfort.

Then I start tapping the glass.

And finally I resort to talking again.