Born To Die

X: I Ain't Worried

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I Ain't Worried

Coarse grains of sand that resembled brown sugar stuck between their toes and clung to their feet as Bradley and Rose walked along the beach. The water lapped against the sand. The morning's delicate, golden daylight of the sunrise was reminiscent of the first day of summer's afternoon glow despite it being October. Even so, California was drenched in sun in the early months of autumn.

"What are we even doing here?" Rose asked as they joined the other aviators near the seaside.

"Good morning, everyone. Welcome to your team-building exercise. Due to recent events, it has become clear that we need to connect a little more as a team," Maverick said, glancing at Hangman, Rooster, and Sparrow.

"Out there, a pilot needs to trust the wingman in order to succeed," he added, pointing to the serene sky.

"We get it Mav, let's move on," Bradley commented, the group chuckling as Maverick rolled his eyes.

"We'll be playing dogfight football."

"Dogfight football, sir?" Payback questioned.

"You're going to be focusing on offense and defense at the same time, just like a dogfight," Maverick replied, "Does everyone understand?"

The entirety of the group nodded.

"Good, because the losing team buys two rounds of drinks for everyone at the Hard Deck."

There was a collective sigh amongst the group, Rose crossing her arms in dismay at Maverick's idea of positive reinforcement.

The group was separated into hypothetical teams, which seemed pointless given that everyone was going to be playing the same position. Nonetheless, it was Harvard, Omaha, Halo, Payback, Bob, Hangman, and Sparrow against Yale, Fritz, Fanboy, Phoenix, Coyote, and Rooster.

Maverick's lips parted to speak as he threw the football to the respective teams, "With that wonderful bit of news, let's play."

For the first time in a while, Rose found herself genuinely having fun with everyone else. The sun gleamed against their backs of tousled fabric and sea foam-smelling hair as they smiled through glossy lips, feet trailing through crystalline waters that tickled their bare feet. The sweetness of the sun dripped onto bitter hands and legs to stay, but the bad outweighed the good no matter how much false hope and white lies tried to justify otherwise. At that moment, her team was winning, the sky was blue, laughs escaped rosy lips, and contentedness adorned their actions.

There wasn't any real method to their game at that point, and it appeared to just be a gleeful Rooster running around with a football in his hands. He was doing everything to avoid getting tackled or outsmarted by the others.

Hangman eventually got Rooster into a tackle, sending them both flying into the water with a laugh. Rooster stood back up, immediately making eye contact with Rose. For a moment, she thought he was considering throwing a punch at Hangman, but she was surprised to see him reciprocate her smile and direct it at Hangman. The awkwardness between Rooster, her, and Hangman had seemed to dissipate into the ocean breeze.

The game continued, and everyone had quickly forgotten to keep score. It was every man for himself after a couple of goals were scored, and all teams had been forgotten.