𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 • ʳᵒᵇᵉʳᵗ ᶠˡᵒʸᵈ

chapter three

chapter three — vodka.
[ jasmine. ]
""i don't feel very much like pooh today," said pooh. "there, there," said piglet. "i'll bring you tea and honey until you do."" -a. a. milne.

with my helmet partially on over my head, i began to adjust the controls with bob in the back seat. it felt weird to have someone in the plane besides me. "good back there?" i spoke up for the first time since we had gotten in. "all good in here..." he said. "got your helmet on?" i asked, turning around to look at him. "yep. i'm ready when you are."

"alright." i placed myself back into the seat, and i suddenly became really nervous. my hands were sweating, my head was itching, and i just couldn't stay focused.

but, i forced myself to take a deep breath, get permission for take off, and start following coyote's plane through the simulated canyon. my thoughts melted away once i was in the sky, relieved that i was good enough at flying this thing.

"we're at 268 feet, honey, keep it going. 3 seconds before schedule." bob instructed and assured me. "today's schedule or mission schedule?" i asked, flipping on my goggles. "3 seconds before mission schedule, 33 seconds in front of today's." "nice." i sighed, continuing to follow coyote at a steadily fast pace. i could easily match his speed, whether he slowly fatigued or quickened, and before i knew it, bob was talking to me, giving me instructions.

"time to target is 1:30. we are two seconds behind, let's increase to 480 knots." "you sure?" i asked. "positive."

i didn't know if i necessarily liked having someone else in the backseat. but, as long as we were doing this exercise together, i had to trust him like he trusted me enough to get into the damn plane in the first place. and we definitely didn't have the time to be bickering about if we should or shouldn't be increasing speed.

"alright, we gotta move, coyote." i instructed. i heard coyote take a deep breath, "copy. increasing speed." in front of us, the plane began to speed up, and i swiftly followed after him, when suddenly, coyote abruptly stopped.

"oh, shit !" i swore. it was too late to stop or else i would've slammed into coyote's plane before i stopped, so i swerved over him, inevitably breaking the ceiling.

"what the fuck !" i yelled, ripping off my oxygen mask and looking back at bob as we continued to soar higher into the air, barely caring about steering the plane at the present moment, "you good back there?" "i'm fine !" he reassured, undoubtly feeling the tension starting to radiate from me.

this happened to me a lot in naval academy, mostly from my dad. i would get annoyed or angry at something my dad said or did (most likely didn't do), and i would act on edge about it until my brain was either convinced it wasn't a problem or found a solution itself. either way, i always got this tense energy after something bothered me and it wouldn't go away until i was convinced that i didn't have to be bothered anymore.

i let out a breath, "okay, then let's get back to base."

✯✯✯

"why are they dead?"

i sat beside bob, staring down at my hands as i repeatedly played with my thumb rings, too nervous to look anywhere else. this was my something bothering me.

"i broke the 300-foot ceiling, and a SAM took us out." i answered without being told. i could feel mitchell's eyes on me, before they looked away, "no. why are they dead?" he repeated himself. "i slowed down and i didn't give her a warning. it was my fault." coyote admitted.