Born To Die

V: Rivalry

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Rivalry

The sun gleamed against their backs of tousled fabric and sea foam-smelling hair as Rose walked down the tarmac. It was a new day of training and nothing could derail her. Her hopes had practically been carved into her brain the second she stepped foot onto North Island once more. Her mind was set on securing a place on the mission, no matter how badly she resented the one person who had called her back.

Maverick was still as tense as ever, and even after some practice sessions, he still hadn't shed any light on what their mission actually called for. Rose had partially expected him to give her a heads-up about what they would have to do, but she was in the dark just like everyone else. Despite her slight despair and disposition, she allowed her mind to become a complete, blank canvas as she flew into the skies.

Although she had gotten a few more opportunities to demonstrate her skills, it was still a mystery what people thought of her. She didn't know whether people were intimidated or curious. She figured they were somewhere in the middle. Anyway, it didn't matter. Rose tried not to care about what people thought of her or her flying, but sometimes it was impossible not to.

Flying was the one thing that made her feel completely in control. It gave her a purpose in this sick, endless world where she often felt like her soul had escaped through the cracks in her heart. Her heart, her red scintillating heart flowing with blood and keeping her alive. But that was all it really did now. It used to glow as bright as the spherical star hovering over the luminescent waters, but it suddenly stopped. The fair glow went away, leaving her so inadequate.

But flying gave her that glow, even if it was only for a little while.

It sounded sad, and maybe it was. Maybe it was all too depressing to even think about. But Rose didn't mind it. She had minded, once in a blue moon, but now she found that it took away any worries she could've had. Any restrictions that could hold her back. When she was up in the skies, her hands clutching onto the navigation stick, her life was in no one's hands but her own.

Suddenly, Rooster walked out of the hangar and fell into step beside her, her wingman for the day. Perfect. He glanced at her. She glanced back. Two hearts beat faster. Their faces burned. They both quickly looked away. For the lack of words to fill it, they remained silent as they strode towards their jets.

"Sparrow!"

At the sound of Maverick's voice, Rose spun around, "Sir?"

"Ride backseat with Rooster."

The pilots glanced sharply at each other and then back at the captain.

Rose gaped, "You're kidding."

Maverick raised his eyebrows, "Do I look like I'm kidding, Lieutenant?"

He did not.

Rooster turned away with a roll of his eyes as Rose groaned and trudged after him. Staring at the back of his sandy brown head, she hated that she wondered how he had been. Was he happy? Did he ever miss her? Was he alone like her? Was flying everything he wanted it to be? Suddenly, Rose was full of things she wanted to tell him, answers to questions he hadn't asked, words she couldn't speak to anyone else.

It was awkward in the fighter jet, sitting just a few feet from each other in total and complete silence. The tension was stifling, and Rose felt like she was going to choke on it. Since she was Rooster's back-seater for the day — a position she had little knowledge of — it meant that they had the pleasure of Hangman flying alongside them.

"Say, Rooster," Hangman began over the intercom as he hovered beside Rose, "Mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"Would it matter if I did?" Rooster replied.