Turbulence || Top Gun 1986 Fanific

|| chapter 3 :: first class||

"Cupid."

I look around, who's calling me?

"Cupid!"

"Flame?"

"Come on, you have to get up."

I try to get a better angle at the backseat, but there's no one there! I completely forget about keeping calm, and panic. Then the worst possible thing happens, the missle lock alarm goes off. What the hell! Can this day not get any worse! I'm shaking, and my hand keeps slipping off the joystick. What do I do?! Everything is moving at the speed of light, including my heart. It might as well pop out of my chest. I'm so scared, I can't explain it. My legs are shaking, my temples practically have an ocean of sweat on them, and when I thought things couldn't get worse.... BAM!

The explosion is mesmerizing, like a moving painting. My heart is racing, then I see all black. Did I die? Is this how it ends?

My eyes flutter open to see Flame standing infront of me, his hands on my shoulders, slightly shaking me awake.

"Huh?"

"You better get up before we're late, you have ten minutes to get ready."

"WHAT?!"

My scream practically rattles the house. Y'know if I haven't enlisted, I could've been a damn good actress. Horror movies are my jam, I remember recreating my favourite scenes with my friends back in middle school. Speaking of horror, I'd use many synonyms to describe the situation my hair is in. Half still blown-out from last night, half tangled and resembling a rat's nest. How lovely, Flame must've been very fond of me this morning. I snag a random brush from the counter and run it through my hair as fast as I can. Oh no, I forgot about frizz. I turn the faucet on, making sure only a few drops land on my hands. I run them through my hair, but the attempt to match it look beachy and effortless has completely failed. I give up. Pulling an elastic off my wrist, I quickly briad my hair in my signature french braid, and leave the bathroom the get dressed.

White tee, my favorite socks with some funky symbol on the heel (I don't know how, but I wore these socks on every good day/event I've had — no joke), and a butt load of deoderant. I struggle to pull the army green jumpsuit on, but it should be fine. The zipper glides smoother than satin on skin, and I'm out the door with my bag.

"Hey bud"

"Hey, did you have a bad dream last night? You seemed to be pretty shaken when you woke up." He raises a brow. Oh right, I kinda just screamed and frantically ran to the bathroom to fix my apperance.

"Yeah yeah, horrible." I reply and take a sip of the orange juice left on the counter for me.

"What was it about?" He leans towards me, his bodyweight on his elbows, one hand holding a glass of juice.

"Uhm- It was about our instructer being... weird. Yeah, you know, first flight jitters." I blurt. I can't tell him the truth. Flame is a really nice guy, but he cam get pretty...protective sometimes. He would go too easy on my in the air, or he'd completly baby me. I don't need that, especially on my first day at Top Gun. I'm honestly still in shock, not even last nights drinks helped. I fiddle with the zipper on my bag, trying to take my mind off of how nervous I am.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Flame asks me, and places a hand on my thigh.

"Yes, don't worry." I put his hand back on the steering wheel. Every since we left our old post, he's been touchy, protective yet soft, just not like himself. I'm going to ask, but maybe after class. I don't need him distracted right now. We drive into the parking lot, and get out of the car. I take a deep breath.
Here we go.