The next two days were nothing out of the ordinary. I woke up, brushed my teeth, my hair, slid into my usual outfit, and then shoved down some breakfast before taking off with Charlie for Top Gun. At the academy, things were the same; Iceman and his buddies heckled me, and I did my best to ignore them, letting Maverick and Goose handle the confrontation if they chose. In the air, Dash was still a dick, and even more so now that he'd proved how much of my backstory he knew. I'll admit that it ruffled me a bit, but the initial fear he incited had more to do with my own failure to be honest with my friends, and less to do with the fact that he'd somehow managed to leaf through my file or overheard a private conversation between commanders.
Clearly, Dash hadn't thought that one through.
But Maverick had.
Without my permission, he relayed all I'd told him to Goose and boy am I glad he did. Working up courage to spill my guts to Maverick was harder than I thought, and in the end, I only managed to tell him half of the truth.
There was so much I left out...
And yet, I felt the weight lift from my shoulders just by giving Maverick a taste of what I've gone through.
So when Goose came up to me the day after Mav and I's late night talk, looked me dead in the eye, and simply said, "I'm sorry, Stirrups," you better believe I almost lost it. The boys knew it, because they both drew me into the biggest hug I've ever received in my life, with two pairs of arms around me. Crammed between both of them, with their strong arms holding me tight, kindred hearts beating in harmony to mine, something inside me clicked. It's like that toast we had back at the bar, the night they sang my sorrows away and danced with me, the oath we took to be true friends, no matter what, it finally sunk in and I embraced it with as much passion as I did my friends themselves. That hug followed me up into the sky. It guarded me from the fatal wounds Dash's tongue might've left; it put a smile on my face when we won even if I was disappointed because I'd been ignored again; and best of all, it just made me feel alive.
For a day, I got to be my old self again.
The farm girl turned pilot who crushed the competition in the air and on the ground and never once felt fear.
It felt good.
With it came the realization that it wasn't just the hug that shone a light on my life, it was the action of giving up a piece of myself and my fear. Instead of letting the insecurity of telling Maverick and Goose what happened to me before Top Gun and risking their possibly harmful opinions, I took the leap of faith. I rivaled my fear and contrary to prior belief that any sort of rebellion would set me back in my recovery, it launched me so far forward, I hardly recognized myself from the day before! That taste of sweet success had me hooked. Every waking second I wasn't laughing with the guys, or focusing on lectures, I was asking the question, what do I have to do to have more of this?
It's an easy answer, yet I couldn't really come to terms with it.
Even with my RIO breathing down my neck.
C'mon, Stirrups! She urges as I speed-walk through the parking lot to class, running a little late because I slept in and missed Charlie's hundred wake up calls. The night before, I had another visit from a certain someone, who I guess, like me, is starting to really enjoy our late night conversations and continues to show up at my window after dark. The two of us spent most of the night jabbering away, mainly talking about old planes and the way they've progressed and how some might look in the future. Nerdy stuff, followed by a ton of aviator jokes that I'm sure wouldn't be so funny to us this morning when we're both fully awake and not inebriated with endorphins. Still, we had a good time, and I fell asleep so hard (and at such a late hour) that my body just snoozed into the morning. I rushed to get ready, since Charlie had to get to work, and ended up skipping breakfast.
We both felt the time crunch and bolted off to our classes without saying goodbye.
You've gotta talk to him.
I did, I insist. Last night. And now I'm late because of it.
Vixen scoffs. I meant about us. About the crash. And about you talking to me.
Wait –
I trip over the laces of my left shoe that've come undone. Luckily, I catch myself in the nick of time and spew all sorts of foul language that ought not to be repeated as I hurry forward, careful not to step on the loose, flying laces as I throw the front doors open and sprint down the hall. There's hardly anyone around.
No, no, no, no, no –
Belting an aggravated grunt, I pivot and sprint down the hall to our first class of the day, Viper's.
As I run, Vixen jabbers on, cranking the temperature on my temper dial up until it's at full blast and my patience is wearing dangerously thin.
Wait what? Wait like, no I'll wait to tell them? Because that honey is the worst idea ever. You already told Mav half the story! Just finish it! And he can tell Goose for you and that's that! Mission complete! She pauses. Unless you meant 'wait, where is everyone' in which case, yes, you are very very late -
Shut the Hell up please, Vix! I whine.
Right as she complies, I slide into a plain door, ramming my hip into it and forcing the door to swing open. I skid to a stop on the other side, and the door slams against the opposite wall, clanging for all to hear as every eye in the room turns my way, boring holes in my soul. I cringe momentarily, but the sudden assault of attention riles my self-esteem. As quickly as I entered, I shift posture, unfurling my spine, standing tall and lifting my head defiantly. Some of the boys clearly liked the change. Their mouths round out in silent 'o's while others shake their heads, no longer interested. I smirk. Behind me, I can feel the door start to droop back into place and I catch it with my foot, adding to it's momentum with a sharp kick. The latching of the lock melds with the squeak of my Nike Dunks on the slick tile.
Luckily Viper's not in quite yet.
"Stirrups! Up front!"
It's Goose, he waves like a giddy child, grinning ear to ear. I flash him a cheeky smile and speed walk to the front row, plopping down in the seat next to Goose. On his other side, Mav leans forward. I turn to him, grinning like an idiot, pleased with my grand - albeit tardy - entrance, but I'm met with a look of disappointment.
Something sour like hurt.
Before I can ask, Goose is all over me, bouncing in his chair ecstatically.
"They're flying in today, Stirrups! Wooooweee!"
"Geezes, Pheasant, calm down!"
Not even my heckling can deter Goose. He's dead set on seeing his wife and kid again, and I don't blame him. As I watch his smile light up the room, reflecting off his shades, I'm reminded of my family, back on the ranch, and I feel a pang of guilt for keeping away for so long. My physical distance can't be helped. I've got classes to attend, dog fights to practice. Still, with all my responsibilities, there's such things as phones and letters, and I haven't made use of either regarding my family in months. Hell, I haven't even spoken to my mom and dad since Vixen's funeral. Like the good folks they are, they showed up. Flew in, stayed a few days, tried to get me back together. They were so worried about me, and I really did put in some effort to seem alright...but that was all it was. Seeming, an act. Outside, I smiled, I laughed, I hugged them goodbye at the airport, but once they were out of sight, I stuffed away the charade. I let the poison on the inside bleed through my pores. I showed all the pain and sorrow to the world.
Wore it like a badge.
Like the dog tags around my neck.
My hand absentmindedly wanders to the two sets of tags, and I grip them through my shirt.
"Aw, Stirrups you're gonna love Carol! She's the greatest woman I've ever met. Gorgeous as hell, got eyes like the sea –"
"Yeah we've heard it all before," Sundown mocks, leaning over the back of Goose's seat and patting him passive aggressively on the shoulders. "How you managed to score the world's best gal there ever was."
"Damn right," Goose snaps, flashing Sundown a fierce look.
Sundown raises his hands above his head and settles back into his chair.
"He's right though," Mav adds, nodding at me. I blink repeatedly, clearing away the fog of thoughts hanging over my head. "About Carol," He clarifies. "She's really great, nice, spunky, you'll like her, Stirrups."
I smile softly. "Anyone you and Goose like is bound to be worth my time."
Maverick eyes crinkle as he leaks a timid grin.
My heart softens at the sight.
Just as the moment seems untouchably perfect, Maverick's gaze falls to my hand, tightly clamped around the collar of my shirt, and the tags underneath. I let them go immediately and pivot in my chair right as the door flies open. Viper strides in.
"Alright class, let's get started..."
His words blur and my attention drifts back to Maverick.
I catch him eyeing my chest, and not in a suggestive way. Gulping hard, I refocus on the chalkboard, and force feed myself the equations Viper's presenting. As I struggle to keep up mentally, I hear Vixen echo my own, anxious sentiment.
You gotta tell him the whole truth, and soon.
>>>>>>
At the airport, Maverick, Goose and I got lunch. Burgers all around. The three of us, absolute American pigs, snorted those meat patties and had only just finished when on the landing strip, two figures caught our eye; a young woman in a strapless plaid dress, with messy, short blonde hair, and her little tike, tottering at her side, his similar hair combed back and feet stuffed into blue socks and a pair of sandals. The kid couldn't have been more than four years old. As soon as they were spotted, we all lept up from the table, scrambling for the door. Carol saw the clamor through the window and stopped where she was to stand on tippy toes and wave cheerfully, a breathless smile on her face. Goose practically ripped the doors off their hinges, not even bothering to hold the door for me or Mav as he rushed into the intensity of the summer sun.
His son saw him right away.
"DADDA!" He squeals, tumbling over his tiny legs towards his father.
Goose roars as he bends down and scoops Bradley up in one arm, tucking him to his chest as he continues running to his wife. The two of them meet in a fast embrace, leaning into one another and swaying, heads nestled into each other's necks.
Maverick and I hang back, spectating the happy reunion.
Time seems to slow as Goose draws back from the embrace to kiss Carol full on the lips, and right in front of Bradley, who starts to fidget.
Laughing, they break apart and Goose smooches Bradley on the forehead.
I can feel my heart exploding, like a supernova.
"They're amazing," Maverick murmurs, so softly, that I nearly miss it over the dying hum of the plane's engine. Curious, I tilt my head towards Maverick, catching the bittersweet curve of his smile. His cheeks look hollow, like he's sucking them and deeper emotions back. I raise a brow and scoot closer to his side, studying the slightest of knots between his full brows, and how the sweat dabbled skin dips into a paperthin crease, easy to miss in the searing daylight. Maverick peeks at me from the corner of his eye, completely winding me with those vibrant green irises. I choke back a gasp and keep our gaze's intertwined, willing Maverick with what little mental force I have to speak.
It's totally wrong of me to want him to open up when I can't even do it myself, but that doesn't stop me from staring Maverick dead in the eye until he sighs, biting his lip and shaking his head.
The sorrow in his smile is trumped by faint amusement.
I smirk victoriously.
"I'm happy for them, don't get me wrong," Maverick begins tentatively. "It's just hard to see two happy people with their little boy and not think of my parents."
My heart clenches. "Your parents?"
"Dead," Maverick states plainly. There's no pain in his eyes, just cold realism. "My mom...she passed a little after my dad did. Killed in action, but they don't say anymore than that."
Damn.
Without thinking, I reach out and grab Maverick's wrist, or whatever of it peeks out of his jean pocket and jacket sleeve.
Shit – I panic, eyes widening. Shocked at my foolish impulse, I try to backtrack. Shit, eject –
STIRRUPS NO!
Maverick's hand pops out of his pocket faster than my reflex to pull away and he slides his hand down my arm, encompassing my hand in his and then fitting our fingers together. They coil about each other and tighten, like fibers of a rope. One of those thick ones you climb to the top of in boot camp or gymn class. They're tough as nails and can bear an immense amount of weight.
They could take on the world...
Are we still talking about the ropes or –
"Maverick!" An excited voice sings.
Maverick doesn't bother to untangle our hands as he intercepts Carol's hug, catching her with one arm and patting her on the back. She throws her arms around his neck and sighs, gripping him really tight. Maverick accidentally yanks on my arm and I stumble into his side as Carol grunts overdramatically, like a grandmother who hasn't seen her favorite grandchild in centuries. She then pulls back swiftly and cups Maverick's face, tilting his head this way and that.
"Mhm," She announces, studying him skeptically. "Still handsome as ever."
Maverick laughs.
I feel a strange prickle inside.
Like the rumbling of a storm off at sea.
Too far to break the sand...but still, dangerous.
"And this," Carol remarks, "Must be Stirrups! First girl I've ever heard my boys talk about in their ranks! Flying and gunning down bogies and everything!"
At this I can't help but laugh, prickles and storms forgotten.
"Remington Weaver, but uh yeah, Stirrups."
Carol winks. "I know, you aviators and your callsigns! Goose doesn't ever let me call him his God given name unless it's just us! Used to drive me crazy -" She waves her arms around her head and steps away from Maverick, towards me. I flinch, slightly, uncertain of what's going on until she wraps both arms around my shoulders and pulls me in for a warm hug. My arms are trapped at my sides, specifically the one still linked to Maverick by our hands, so I awkwardly lift the free one and give her a gentle squeeze. It's not that I'm not a hugger...it's just that I don't trust easily, and I guess despite Carol being Goose's wife, my 'stranger' instincts are kicking in.
Luckily, Carol hardly notices.
She draws back and her eyes flicker off to the floor.
I frown and follow her gaze.
Just then, Maverick lets my hand go.
Heat floods my face.
"I am starving!" Carol announces. "What about you, baby?"
Bradley nods. "Mama I wanna eat now!"
"Then let's go eat! A big ol' burger and fries for my Little Rooster!" Goose exclaims, tickling Bradley's tummy.
His son squirms in his arms, giggling wildly and coughs out. "AND A MILKSHAKE!"
We all laugh.
Goose nods. "And a milkshake!"
Before we go in, Goose hands Bradley off to Maverick, and he joins Carol, draping an arm across her shoulder. The four of them go inside, and I follow, but linger behind them, admiring the scene. Two best friends – two brothers – and the one's wife and son, all together. Their own happy little family.
Watching them makes my heart ache in yearning.
I wonder if being a friend makes me a part of that family too.