𝘚𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 | A Top Gun Fanfiction

Chapter 8: 𝘓𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘯' 𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨

An eternity. That's how long I'm in the women's locker rooms for. It turns out, I've only spent half an hour sitting on the floor, with my back against the lockers, my head in my hands, fighting tirelessly to keep from crying. I can't get Dash's smug face out of my head. The way he smacks his lips, chewing his gum, locking and unlocking his jaw, spitting out knives, never once missing his target; my pride. After I've melted into a puddle on the changing room's cool tile floor, I somehow summon the strength to get back to my feet and trudge into the showers, where I rinse off all the sweaty grime coating my skin beneath my flight suit.

Another thirty minutes tick by.

I stand frozen under the cold water, shivering, arms tucked about my small frame. As the onpour of shower water chills my bare skin, I close my eyes and silently drift in and out of memories.

I'm in the air again, but I'm in the pilot's seat. She is right behind me. As I crane my neck around to see her, I'm blinded by the sunlight reflecting off the red plumes painted onto her black helmet. Written across the front of her helmet is her call sign in white and yellow letters. We exchange smiles, giggle, and turn back to our individual in flight tasks. Hers is vigilance, sharp eyed as a hawk, she watches for bogies on our tail while I maintain a level path through the clouds. Essentially keeping us both alive.

But I failed.

I failed her.

No one is supposed to know.

I never...I never told anyone but -

Charlie.

Charlie that...that...

I reach out and clumsily shut off the water. Cold air sweeps through the shower curtain. It's worse than the frosty bite of the shower. But neither the cold air nor water can beat the chill that settles in my bones at the thought of Charlie, who welcomed me so graciously to Top Gun and into her home, a fellow female aviator and badass lady, betraying my trust and relaying my trauma to Dash. The thought of her, surrounded by Top Gun's education board, gathering because of me, sharing what I told her in confidence...it shoves the daggers Dash threw deeper into my chest. I tear back the shower curtain and stumble towards the lockers, blinking away the droplets clinging to my eyelashes and struggling to fold myself in a towel because of the tremors wracking my hands.

At my locker, I move in a trance. Thoughtlessly pulling on clothes piece by piece until I've tied my hair back and shoved my arms through the sleeves of my flight jacket.

My whole body feels numb, feeling creeping back slower than molasses drips from a jar.

A sudden knocking on the door startles me so bad I trip right into the lockers, striking my shoulder painfully against my locker door that I forgot to close. I bite my lip and stifle a scream, hissing under my breath as my hand comes up to massage the sting beneath my jacket.

"Stirrups?" A familiar voice shouts, followed by a siege of rapid knocks. "Stirrups, are you in there!"

If my ears aren't deceiving me, it's Maverick attacking the changing room door. He doesn't sound desperate, nor fearful, just concerned. I roll my eyes and give my shoulder one last furious rub. "I'm here!" I call out in a croaky voice, weak from the tears I refuse to admit fell, and all the yelling I've done. First the motor race to campus, then Charlie's betrayal, having to get loud for Dash's attention in the Archer 1 and finally, our fight on the runway. I swallow hard. My dry tongue moves lazily in my mouth, sending saliva down my sore throat that burns all the way down. Damn, all this fighting is gonna make me sound like a smoker.