Copilot | Top Gun

one

"Mitchell? As in Pete Mitchell?"

"That's the one,"

You looked up as the pair of pilots talking walked by, both of them nodding. "Arrow," said the one called Bluejay, winking as he passed you.

"Jay," You nodded with a flirtatious smile. "Did I hear talk of the new trainee?" You fell into step with them.

"'sure did. Pete Mitchell is coming back for another round. Apparently he wants to be a full instructor here. He used to be a junior instructor, of course, but they won't let him teach full-time without passing with full marks a second time." Bluejay said.

"Mitchell... I feel like that should ring a bell." You squinted as the three of you turned towards the sun. You pulled out your aviator glasses.

Bluejay's wingman, Ripper, looked over at you in shock. "Hello? Pete Mitchell? Maverick? Only one of the best pilots of our time?"

"Ah," You nodded, smirking at Bluejay who was having trouble disentangling his shades from his shirt front. "Maverick. Didn't know his name was Mitchell."

"Yeah, well," Ripper put his hands on his hips as the three of you stopped at the runway staircase. "He's due to be here next week."

Just then, Bluejay managed to untangle his glasses. "Finally," he grumbled. Then he dropped them.

Both you and Ripper laughed as they bounced down the cemented steps. Bluejay chased them down the stairs.

"Don't step on them and crack the lense!" You called, still laughing.

Bluejay glanced up on the last step, "What?"

CRACK

Bluejay swore.

You and Ripper began the descent and after meeting the bottom, you obliged to a high five from Ripper who was clearly full of glee at his wingman's misfortune.

"Cheer up Jay, maybe they still work?" Ripper cocked a smile.

Bluejay stood up and turned you face you, his glasses scratched and cracked in both lenses.

You laughed again.

"Not funny." Bluejay grumbled, pulling the ruined glasses off. "This is gonna cost me at least half of my weekly spending.

"Maybe you should button your shirt better next time," Ripper suggested, turning towards the school doors.

You and Bluejay followed him through the entry and made your way to classroom C where your last class of the day was scheduled. The three of you walked in and you were hailed by your wingman, Clover.

He was a stout flier with no sense of humor. Most of your conversations pertained to content presented in class. Sometimes you would talk flight patterns to try when you flew together.

"Clover," You nodded formally. He returned the gesture without a word.

You seated yourself next to him. He had chosen a seat closest to the front which irritated you. You felt as though when in the front the spotlight was always upon you. And that was the last thing you wanted right now.

"Nice specs," You heard a lieutenant behind you say to Bluejay.

"Ah shut up, Justice. Like that isn't your fifth pair."

"Hey," Justice retorted. "This is my second pair, mind you. And a least I lost mine while doing something heroic. How'd you scratch yours up so bad?"

"I was fixing my engine and they fell into it." Bluejay said in a low tone.

"Lies," You turned in your seat to the group of guys behind you. "He dropped them down the runway stairs."