After being dismissed from our orientation, many pilots lingered in the auditorium meeting each other, or trying to find their WSO if they were flying doubles.
I figured there was always tomorrow for meeting new people, so after a beat, I decided to head back to my dorm. I still had to unpack and meet my roommate. Hopefully she wasn't as bothersome as the last one.
At the naval academy, I was paired with a girl we had called Giggles because she was always laughing, and when she wasn't laughing, she was talking. It annoyed me to no end. At the end of a long day at work, I just wanted some peace and quiet, something she never gave me, no matter how hard I glared at her.
I spotted Commander Metcalf getting away from his podium, and walking towards the back. Knowing that he was probably coming over to talk to me, I plan my escape. Honestly, I wanted to avoid that talk, because I've gotten it several times from dozens of different instructors.
I caught Jake's eye, giving him a quick wave with one hand, as I slipped out the side door without catching anyone else's attention.
It was quiet outside, well, as quiet as a naval base could be. There was the occasional sound of a plane or a helicopter, and the blinking lights of the runway were mesmerizing to watch.
An F-18 circled around and then started their descent down to earth. They landed without a hitch, and then drove their plane to be fueled and fixed for the night, until they were up at the crack of dawn again.
I dragged myself towards the dorm rooms, because I could watch planes take off and land for the rest of my life, and never be bored.
I finally made it to my dorm room, and opened it with the key that the administration had given me.
Expecting to me alone for at least a good twenty minutes, I was surprised when I saw that my dorm mate was already there.
I only knew one thing about her: her name.
"Hey, are you Natasha Trace?" I called out, and she turned around, still in her uniform from orientation.
She was just about my height, and she looked like she was latina. Her hair was slicked back into a low bun, and it looked much nicer than the braid I had wrangled my hair into this morning.
"You must be Zoe Kazansky right?" Natasha asked with a bright smile that met her brown eyes, one eyebrow arched over the other.
And from that moment, I knew that we would be thick as thieves here.
"Yes ma'am." I said a little sarcastically, she laughed and got up to meet me.
"Yep. I'm Phoenix." This time she offers her call sign and her hand to shake.
"Avalanche." I mimicked, shaking her hand.
"How did you get your call sign?" Phoenix asked out of the blue, "I mean it makes sense," she pauses as she considers my heritage. Then her eyes widen, "Sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
"No worries, I'll tell you. It isn't too interesting because you've got it exactly right. I got it because my other classmates found out that I was Admiral's Kazansky's daughter. So what happened was..."
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"... wait your dad is Admiral Kasansky? As in Iceman?" A guy we had nicknamed Cobra asked.
I groaned. It was only the second week at the Naval Academy. I don't know what I was hoping for, but I can't help wishing that they hadn't found out so fast. As my insides begin to churn, my face is still calm as ever. "Yeah, that's my dad. So what?" I challenged.
"How many strings did he pull to get you to here?" One snickered. Wasp.
"None. Which is a lot less than you." I countered Wasp, and his face darkened at my insult.
The group that has collected around me begins ooooing because of my harsh burn.
But I kept my iciness that usually kept people away. This time, I wasn't so lucky.
"We'll come up with a good name for you." Rex laughs.
Here it comes.
"Iceman's daughter, huh." Another girl, Hollywood, considers.
The storm begins.
"Icy?"
"Blizzard?"
"Hail?"
"Snow Queen?"
"Icicle?"
None of them stuck, and I was grateful. Could you imagine the nightmare and constant embarrassment I'd get from my name? Of course, I would be forced to get used to it, but I prayed in my heart that it would be something good.
"Avalanche."
We all turned our head to Ghost, who had been there the entire time, without making a sound. Hence the name. Ghost's real name was George, but he was as quiet as a mouse. He was brunette, short, and never spoke unless spoken to.
"Avalanche is good." He repeated, getting back to whatever he was doing before.
"Yeah Avalanche." They all nodded.
Wasp added, "Like a disaster zone!" Trying to get the upper hand, a jab back at me for my previous comment.
It didn't work, but I still glared at him, and he tried to brush it off. Tried.
Rex laughed, "No... she'll take you out if you're not careful. Or too loud."
Everybody ends up laughing, including Giggles. She had to have known I had been complained about her.
I don't know how I was going to survive. Another thing about my roommate's laugh was that it was obnoxious.
I joined in with the laughter for once, but deep down, I'm conflicted.
Don't get me wrong, I liked my new call sign. It suited my personality perfectly.
Avalanche.
I've heard stories about worse call signs.
And when it came down to it, I could do whatever needed to be done in my cockpit. I wasn't Iceman's daughter for nothing, I lived up to his expectations, with grace and precision.
My instructors had already been commenting how I flew exactly like my dad.
And maybe it's because I take everything a bit too seriously now that I've grown up, but no matter what I do, I'm still tied to my father's legacy.
I can never truly escape my father's shadow.
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