Eye of the Storm

-> loss

Another day in, another day out.

Today's training was putting Phase 1 and Phase 2 together.

Nobody made it through the course, somebody died at every turn.

I failed the simulation when I couldn't calibrate my laser fast enough, and my missile didn't hit the ventilation shaft, but a couple of us were close to beating it.

But close wasn't enough.

There was no points for second place.

And we were one day closer to our mission.

Exhausted, I head back to my car, ready to sleep until we had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day. I hear a yell. "Rachel! Lieutenant Mitchell!"

I stood and flip around at my father, this the second that he has spoken to me directly, and alone, after being here for weeks.

"Yes sir?" I ask him, out of habit. I added a little venom to my voice though, I didn't want to talk to him. We had more than a rocky relationship when I left Georgia to go to the naval academy.

"Rachel, it's just me." Maverick says, putting a hand to his chest.

"I know that," I say, dropping my bag of gear.

"Can we talk?" Maverick asks me, and my face drops a little. I didn't really want to bring up the past, it was still sore for me. But then he makes me an offer that I can't resist. "We can go get greasy diner food like we used to?"

I say with a smirk, "Only if you let me steal some of your fries."

"You can get your own fries."

I start turning around to my car, "Then it looks like—"

"Fine, let's go," he says, motioning his arm towards his bike.

"No way. We are not getting on that bike of yours. You've had it for ages."

"It's older than you, actually." My dad defends his motorcycle.

"My point exactly. We're going in my car," I start walking off to my Mustang, not seeing if Maverick is following me or not.

But the passenger door opened as soon as I opened mine. Maverick took a deep breath and looked around. "You fixed it up."

"Of course I did. I couldn't abandon her." Overlooking the fact that my car was a she, I make sure to emphasis the last part.

Maverick gets uncomfortable in his seat, that comment said all I needed to say about what I thought about my childhood. He abandoned me, not the other way around. And getting through this dinner wasn't going to be easy, but I didn't intend to make it easy for him.

"I'm sorry."

My head spins around, and I look at my father, before whipping my head back to pay attention to the road.

I hadn't heard my father apologize in years.

I shrug my shoulder, brushing it off like it was nothing. "It made me into the person I am today. And look at where it got me." I said, then turning on the radio, turning it down a bit so we could still talk.