> 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
>  by Android
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Few love to hear the sins they love to act.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I often wondered what became of the kids who called her hairstyle ugly in middle school. It was unusual to be sure but it was not the least bit ugly. She tried to hide the fact that the jeers and jests had gotten to her and, to her credit, she hid it very well; just not from me. Personally, to this day, I think the only reason she kept it was just to spite her critics from way back when. And to be fair, it had worked. Today, her hairstyle was the hottest thing since the pixie cut swept through Applewood. There were many athletes and superstars who copied her signature look, though none them ever pulled it off as well as she did: the Wonderbolt Captain herself. 
I still remember the day she got it, or at least decided to get it. This was way before we were in high school. Before Operation Changeling and the war that followed, before all of that. We were kids at the time and had everything before us. I swear this was where she first tasted adrenaline and never wanted to let it go. She was always a bit more athletic than me and made sure I knew it though I never really minded. Though I tried my best at our school’s track meets, she always came out on top. She was the fastest girl on the team and she knew it. 
Our parents were best friends in college so, naturally, growing up we were too. She’d been around for just about as long as I could remember. Hell, I think growing up we spent just about as much time at each other’s houses as we did our own. I remember we did everything we could together. She joined the soccer team, so did I, she joined the track team, so did I, when I started taking summer classes to get ahead, she followed. We were inseparable, despite her insistence of the contrary. 
And so it followed, that after one of the many track meets where she’d, once again, came out on top, our parents took us both to an amusement park. We were both excited, and, despite having run about mile’s worth of sprints, she still had enough energy to speed through the front gate of the park. I followed as quickly as I could, though it was very obvious where she was heading. She’d been eyeing all the big roller coasters that had the names of superheroes attached to them. Last year, we hadn’t been tall enough to ride, this year we hoped it would be different.
Our parents had followed us the best they could but before they caught up, we were already in line. She’d eyed the Zapp roller coaster first and was giddy as she scanned it. It was colored purple and black and was covered in lightning bolts and storm clouds and other weather phenomena all along its dizzying drops and loops. 
"Come on, slow poke!" She shouted. "Before the line gets bigger!"
We’d reached the front of the line and a park employee measured our heights. She’d always been taller than me growing up and never let me forget it. Even then, she still had an inch on me. Fortunately we’d both passed, though I admittedly only barely made it. She was practically shaking when were finally able to get strapped in. Her grin only got bigger as the shoulder restraints came down and the car began to move.
"This is gonna be awesome!"
At the time, I’d found the ride almost terrifying. My stomach lurched as we fell down the first drop. Though almost everyone else was screaming, I found comfort in the fact that the girl next to me couldn’t stop laughing as we looped and dove and sailed along the seemingly chaotic course laid out for us. The ride finally ended with a satisfying splashdown that left everyone thoroughly soaked. Though she’d stopped laughing as we pulled into the station, the grin on her face was still just as contagious and I couldn’t help but smile back.
"That was amazing!" She laughed.
"Yeah." I grinned back. "It was pretty cool."
She couldn’t stop gushing about how awesome the ride had been. The one comparison that continuously came up was that it had felt like flying, to which I agreed. As we dried off, her hair had become spiked up from the water and the towel. When I laughed, she ran to the nearest mirror and laughed too. She’d looked like an electrocuted cartoon character and though she found it funny, she was having none of it. After a few times running her fingers through her mane, trying to get it to behave, she finally settled on something that would work for her for the rest of the day. Her brilliant orange hair was now done up like a flame above her head. It was the coolest hairstyle I’d ever seen. She went the rest of the day like that with her hair suspended like a candle stopped in time above her head. It was up; and it never came back down. 


✧✦✧


“You know, I really hate you sometimes.” Spitfire said, setting her lunch tray down across from me.
“Oh? And why’s that?” I looked up. She had her by now signature flame hairstyle, now kept up with a small bit of mousse and hair gel instead of water. Her blue Canterlot High track jacket rested comfortably on her shoulders. Though she looked her age, something about her screamed youth that was few years younger.
“Because that show killed me on the inside.” She took a bite from her salad.
I grinned. “So you like it, I assume?”
“Fuck you.” She said in between bites.
“Wow, so you cried at the ending too. And here you thought it was just going to be another music anime.” I took a bite from my sandwich.
She sipped her water. “No, I thought it was going to be another high school romance, not John Green writes an anime.”
“You are so typical sometimes.”
“Excuse me. Typical? You do have eyes don’t you?”
“Sorry,” I said taking off my glasses, “Don’t see as well as I used to. Who are you again?”
“Oh you’re so funny!”
“And you look like a blob covered in orange and blue.”
“You really should wear your glasses, never know, something might happen.”
A bit of mashed potatoes landed square on my nose. I couldn’t help but grin as Spitfire started cracking up. Her laugh was interesting. I could never really properly describe it. Her voice had a tomboyish quality to it that changed into something almost musical when she laughed.
“Should’ve seen that coming.”
“No you wouldn’t have.” Spitfire laughed.
“Oh, what do we have here? A fuckin’ comedian? Private Joker huh?”
“I thought you’re supposed to be the funny one.”
“In all seriousness, I can just imagine your drill sergeant calling you Private Joker when you get to boot camp.”
“If you were coming with me that would be you.”
“Speaking of which, when do you leave again?”
“June. Go down to boot camp for 12 weeks then I get to come back for a bit. Hope you’ll still be around when I get back because then I’ll really be able to kick your ass.” She snickered.
“You know, I seem to remember someone needing help with their calculus homework. I can’t imagine what the Air Force would think if one of their recruits suddenly dropped the ball in the final trimester.”
She put a hand to her mouth and gasped as loud as she could. “You wouldn’t dare!”
I took another bite from my lunch and shrugged. “Never know.”
“Don’t be that guy, dude.”
“Aww, but I love being that guy! He’s just so fun!”
“He’s also a dick.”
“Hmm, fair enough.”
She cocked her head. “Did we really just have a conversation about the hypothetical that guy?”
“I think we did.”
She smirked. “So just what did you mean when you said I was typical?”
“What did you mean when you asked me if I had eyes?”
“Don’t dodge the question.”
“Fine. John Green though? You know how many basic teenage girls read those books?”
“So they have a high PH, big deal. And I’m guessing a lot?”
“Wow, so you did pay attention in chemistry. And yes, precisely.”
“So that makes me typical?”
“A little bit. But only a little bit.” I smirked.
“You should read one once in a while. They’re really quite good if you give them a chance.”
“It’s YA, so no. The only reason you know about him is they made your English class read Paper Towns over the summer.”
“Oh forgive me oh high master doctor sophisticate. Not all of us are in AP classes.”
“You could’ve been if you put your mind to it.”
“Yeah, uh huh. You’ve always been the smart one. I’ve always been the fast one.”
“And the one who can beat me up.”
“And the one who can beat you up. And besides, I’m not exactly down for that workload you have. If I did that, something would start to suffer.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“It’s like a triangle right? You can do good grades, sports, or a social life-”
“Which you do all three anyway you triple A.”
She frowned. “Anyway as I was saying, typically you can only pick two of those.”
“But you’re not typical.”
“I though you said I was.”
“Eh, you can be, at times. But so can everyone. And atypically, you’re balancing all three.”
“Yeah!” She replied. “Because I’m not killing myself with work this year. Just taking what I can manage and still keep up with sports and everything. That and having a social life.”
“You call this a social life?”
“I do have friends other than you, you know.”
“Huh, I never would have noticed.” I smirked.
“What’re you implying?” 
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all.”
“I swear if you’re bringing up prom again, we both agreed that we would be going together and- you’re laughing.” She frowned.
“Is that your trigger subject or something?!”
“I hate you sometimes.”
“Yes, I know. In fact you don’t go a day without reminding me of it.”
“You know, I didn’t have to go with you. Rory King asked me too.”
“Football Captain?”
“Yes. And I turned him down so I could go with you.”
“Oh I’m so flattered,” I mock bowed.
“Hey! You know there are plenty of girls in this school who would have killed to have Rory ask them out and I said NO.”
“I was right, this is your trigger subject.”
“I told him that I appreciated the offer but that I was going with my best friend. Oh god! I turned down the hottest guy in school to go to prom with an idiot!” her head dropped to the table.
I laughed. “There, there, there’s always next time.”
Her glare could have cut through a meter of steel. “Do you have to put effort into being that dense of does it run in the family?” she asked.
I resumed munching on my food. “I don’t know. Ask my mother.”
“The least you could do is say thank you.”
“Hmm?”
“Yes, a thank you. Like this.” She cleared her throat. “Thank you Spitfire for going to prom with me, so I didn’t have to go stag with my boy friends who didn’t have dates.”
“I was perfectly fine with not going.” I sang.
“And I’m a dude. You were going regardless and you know it.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night. Really, I wonder how Rory feels about getting turned down by both the Captain of the soccer team and the Captain of the girl’s track team.”
“Eat a dick dude. You were still going to go. Admit it.”
“Hmm, hold on, I’m thinking. Yeah, no.”
“Oh I think not. I think some part of you is a little bit sentimental about this being our last year. I think you were going to go regardless, even if you thought it was stupid.”
“An exercise in futility is more like it.”
“Whatever, Will Mcavoy. The point is, I think I did you a pretty good solid there accompanying your scrawny ass.”
“Scrawny? Excuse me, I don’t know if you’ve heard but this is how a runner normally looks. I know you must have gotten used to soccer players and other girls but this is how boys who run look. And until you prove to me that you actually watched The Newsroom the reference doesn’t count.”
“I’m surprised you even have time to run these days with the homework you get.”
“Well, there was a famous mathematician who invented modern computers who like to run to work every day. I believe his name was Al-”
The bell rang signaling fifteen minutes and the end of period 4 classes. Students started filing out of their classrooms and into the hallways.
“So there was another smart guy who could run.” Spitfire said unimpressed.
“Yes. A very smart guy who could run. And I don’t know if you’ve heard, but male runners aren’t buff like the football or soccer players.”
“Eeh, you were always a little on the skinny side.”
“Wow, you really haven’t gotten over rejecting Rory have you?”
“Dude, I swear I’m gonna-”
“Alright!” I laughed. “Relax sunshine. I kid, I kid.”
“Better be. You know I can beat you up quite easily?”
“Yeah well your mother likes me.”
“I could just say you did something to really piss me off.”
“You think she would believe that?”
“Maybe. I could probably talk my way out of it.”
I scoffed. “Nah, I think you love me too much to do anything like that.”
“Now what did you say about flattery?” She smirked. “Because I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe I tolerate you enough to not do that.”
“Tolerate me?”
“Yes. Tolerate you. As in I allow your existence because you don’t annoy me as much as some other people.”
“You know, you’re free to sit at other tables for lunch. I see a couple of your soccer buddies in the corner over there and some of your track friends out on the patio. Oh and they both have some spots open!”
“And leave you here by yourself? Sorry, but I’m too generous to leave you looking like a loser here.”
“Wow, ouch, that one stings.”
“Like I said, I tolerate you.” She smiled.
“And like I said, there are other tables for you to sit at. Other people for you to torment other than me.”
“Yeah but I tolerate them a little bit less than you.”
“Gee, I feel honored.”
“As you should.”
“You know, I do think I see an empty spot at Rory’s table-”
She cracked her knuckles. “You wanna cut that out?”
“Maybe. Depends on how much you tolerate him.”
“A bit more than you at the moment.”
“Ah, your words cut deeper than knives.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic. That’s for the theatre club and the one act plays.”
“Well words are embedded into our souls as they say.”
“Stop it. You’re making it very hard for me tolerate you at the moment.”
“Anyone you don’t just tolerate?”
She deadpanned. “You already know that answer to that.”
“True. But it’s fun to hear you rant about it.”
“No. My blood pressure can’t afford it.”
“Ooh, another trigger word. So that makes prom and Rory for two.”
“Don’t make me break a commandment, dude.”
“Cheerleaders? You do hate them.”
“I don’t hate them. I merely tolerate them a lot less than most. Well, really it’s just a few of them. The rest I’m indifferent to.”
“That wasn’t your tune at prom.” I smiled.
“That’s because that bitch Sarah got mad because I coughed in her general direction.”
I started laughing. “You did a bit more than that if I recall properly.”
“Dude! I had a cough alright? The fuck was I supposed to know she was behind me?”
“You literally spat like five cough drops at her like a shotgun!”
“It was three! And… yes it was like a shotgun.” She laughed. “And then she got all pissy because she apparently could have tripped on one of the fucking lozenges. Tripped. On a cough drop.”
“It would have been funnier if you threw up on her.”
“Dude, if I did that I think I would have died laughing.”
“Then she would’ve started a cat fight with you, hair pulling and all.”
“Like she would do shit. I’d put her in the fucking ground. Hell, I almost did anyway.”
“I wouldn’t’ve stopped you. Pretty sure everyone in school knows just how much you love your hair. Another mark up for typical category.”
“Really? Just because I like my hair?”
“That is a very basic female thing to care about.”
“Oh as opposed to that rats nest you call a hairstyle on your head?”
“Hey, I never said you had bad hair. Just that it was a bit of a typical thing to do.”
“Eh bite me. My hairstyle’s awesome and you know it.” She said running a hand through the fire like do.
“It is. I remember the day you got it. And to be completely honest, your marks in the atypical section far outweigh the typical ones.”
“Damn right they do.”
“Though hair and boys are very high school basic things to throw your fucks at.”
“Really dude? Alright, let’s go over your typical bullshit.”
“Do it. Take me apart.”
“Alright. Video games.”
“Yup. I do play a lot of video games when I can.” I nodded.
“And despite being in an Advanced English class, you still use slang like everyone else.”
“Fair.”
“You got that typical guy short haircut.”
“It’s my default hairstyle. Not everyone can just luckily develop a signature look like you.”
“Jealous much?” She said, turning her head.
“Eh, your hair wouldn’t work on me very well. So come on, let’s hear the rest of it.”
“Superhero movies.”
“Hey, geeks have taken over the world. Fact of life now.”
“Damn right.”
“Let’s see, what else do you have?”
“I’m listening. And to be completely fair, all these things apply to you as well.”
“Yeah, but I’m a girl so it is a little bit out of the box.”
“Oh so that’s why you call yourself.” I laughed.
“Ah fuck off dude.” She smirked.
The next bell rang signaling the end of the lunch block. The tables of the cafeteria began to empty as students, rather forlornly, began the march back to class. The seniors like us were easy to see. They had a bit more life in their step as they moved. No one could really wait for it to be over. Graduation couldn’t come soon enough.
We stood up from our small table and grabbed our backs and dumped our garbage. Our schedules were different from when we were kids. We no longer had identical schedules but it was still alright. We still saw each other plenty, we made time, the one thing we always had to have. 
“So you got practice today?” I asked as we headed for the door.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “I’ll probably be here a bit late today. Coach wants us in regionals again and we still have to get the freshman up to speed.”
“Ah. Sounds fun.”
“It’s not. They all suck right now.”
“So did you at one point.”
She laughed. “You’re the only one who remembers that detail. All anyone sees now is the Captain of the Soccer team.”
I shrugged.
“So you’re gonna be there when I’m finished?”
“Of course.” I said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just making sure.”
“Eh, it’ll give me time to do some homework while you practice.”
“Cool. See you after?”
“Yeah.”
We went our separate ways for the day. I always found it funny where we ended up from elementary school. She captained two different sports teams and was enlisting in the Air Force once we graduated. I was the book worm and the smart one as she put it. I never really liked that title. She could’ve done just as well if she refocused her efforts, she just spread herself out a little too much to do it. 
I smiled. While certainly wasn’t straining herself like me, she was still a triple A as far as the school was concerned; attractive, athletic, and academic. It was hard to argue with that label. Now that I thought about it, she did have a certain sway in her hips when she walked.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Review for a test here, work on a lab here, read this book, study this concept. Class ended soon enough and I headed for the bleachers.
I picked up my usual spot on the largest set overlooking the soccer field, about as high up as I could go. Though I typically was staring at textbooks and other assignments, when I took the occasional break, the view it provided was quite nice. Depending on how I craned my head, I could just about everything.
I sat down and set about drafting an essay for English. Eventually, the soccer players began to file out of the school onto the field. Spitfire was easy to spot based on her hair alone, a splash of orange among a cluster of blue. She gave a quick wave my direction before she set out her drills.
The first draft went quick. I made sure to finish it as quickly as possible and set it aside. The rest of my homework could wait until I got home. Right now, I wanted to watch practice. It had almost become ritual to both the soccer team and myself. I suppose I was the unofficial number one fan. I tried to get to every game I could. It got me out of the house which was good. Plus it was nice to see Spitfire play. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy that for too much longer.
“Alright!” I could hear her shout. Her voice was unmistakable. “We’re going to be splitting you guys up into teams of four. I want each team behind a cone.”
The newbies began to split up into their groups and cluster behind their cones. I smirked; they were in for it.
“You will each sprint to the far end of the field and back again. You will repeat this four times before tagging the next person in your group. First team done gets to leave early. Last team done, gets to run the mile!”
A chorus of groans rose up from the group.
“Hey! Anyone who doesn’t want to be here, leave. Now I don’t know what anyone else told you, but we play soccer here. Now when I say go, the first group runs. Understand?”
A jumbled bunch of ‘yes’s’ and ‘yeahs’ followed.
“Good.” She glanced my way and smiled. I gave a small wave. “Now, on your mark… get set… go!”
The first group was off. They were a little slow to my eyes but I had gotten used to Spitfire’s speed. Still, they showed promise as they ran their suicides, thought it was easy to see them losing steam the closer they got to finishing before they tagged out their friends.
I laughed. Spitfire could be a hardass when she wanted, there was no denying, but the results spoke wonders. She never asked anymore of anyone else than what she would expect of herself. I suppose that was the thing I admired most about her. It was a peaceful time to be able to watch her and her team practicing. Even though she was putting them through hell in a handbasket, no one left. Of course there had to be a losing team, there always had to be, but it wasn’t by much. A stumble at the end sentenced one team to run the mile. 
Still, Spitfire gave them all a pat on the back and a job well done before sending the other teams inside to change and running the mile with the losers. She kept up with them though she certainly could have finished it five minutes if she really wanted. There were a few stragglers but with some encouragement, they all finished, cramps and all.
I looked at my watch; she was right about it being a late night. The sun was on its way down. I grabbed my stuff and head down to the field. Spitfire was giving out some last minute advice to avoid muscle cramps before sending them all home. I smiled. If they’d gotten through this first day alright, they could survive the rest of whatever she had in store for them. Her first days were always her hardest. Even with me.
“Alright, you can pack it in for the night. Good job everyone.”
I smiled at the few coughs and wheezes she got as responses. 
“Nice first day, coach.” I said.
“Yeah. They all got something there.” She breathed, wiping sweat from her forehead. “I’m just gonna hit the showers and change and then we’ll be out.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be here. Don’t be too long. I know how you girls are with getting ready and I don’t want to have to pitch a tent.”
“Well then don’t come into the girl’s locker room.” She grinned.
“Oh eat me.”
“School lunch hasn’t served hot dogs in a while-”
“Would you just go change?”
“Yeah, yeah you buzzkill. Be out in ten.”
“I’ll be timing you.” I sang.
She flashed me the finger before grabbing her duffel bag and following the other students inside. I set the timer on my phone and waited. Sure enough, she emerged in under ten minutes, her hair a bit damper than usual.
“So how long did I take, mom?” She asked.
“Let’s see,” I said pulling out my phone. “Eight minutes and thirty six seconds. New record.”
“Fuck off and just walk me home.”
“Pushy today, aren’t we?”
She laughed. “You have no idea.”
Our houses weren’t too far away. One could make the trip in about ten minutes on a bike, though most days, we still took the bus; I because I still only had a permit and Spitfire because of her lack of a car. We never really minded though, the walk home was always refreshing after a long day. I think the act served more as our own personal decompression chamber than anything else. Sometimes we stayed silent, content in each other’s company. Other days we’d just shoot the breeze. Others, like today, we’d just walk and watch the sun go down over the hills.
“Take it the first day went well?” I asked.
“Yeah. They all did better than I expected.” She said.
“Funny, for you the first day’s always the hardest.” I smirked.
“Don’t tell any of them that. Now they’ll be sure to come back.”
I laughed. “I thought that was what you wanted.”
“Well I figured we’d at least weed out the weaklings. Didn’t count on all of them sticking it out.”
“Ah come on, it can’t be all that bad. If today’s any indication, the soccer team will be fine after we’re gone. You’re legacy is more than secured, as always.”
Spitfire sighed. “That’s not what I’m worried about. This means some people are gonna get cut. We don’t have enough room for all of them.”
“So make the cuts. I’m sure some will rise to the top.”
“I don’t want to. We haven’t had to do try outs since I first joined.”
“Artificial selection as demonstrated. That’s all it is.”
She frowned. “I don’t know. Something just never sat right about it with me. A lot of the people I was with all had the will, just not the talent at the time. I can’t help but wonder about the ones who didn’t make it.”
“Hey, talent is a product of hard work. If some of them didn’t train hard enough to make it, it’s not your fault by any means.”
“Talent.” She scoffed. “Talent is also a product of natural born ability. Now how many of those people do you think are just naturally good at it?”
“I don’t know, thirty percent?”
“Thirty percent of them are just naturally good at the sport and they get on the team because they have a leg up on others just because they were born that way. Does that seem fair?”
“No one ever said life was fair.”
“Well what about the ones who finished last today?” She asked. “What about them? Do you think any of them have the potential to make the team?”
“Yeah. I’d say all of them do.”
“Why do you say that?” 
“A number of things. They finished last, but not by a lot. Really it was just a bit of probability and bad luck. And they all ran your mile run with you despite many of them looking more like they wanted to die than do anything else. And they all finished. Anyone would say there’s potential there.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, really. I guess they all have the attitude.”
“That’s exactly it.”
“What?”
“The attitude.” She said. “Every single one of them on that team all stuck it out. Call it spunk or will or drive, whatever. The point is, they all have it.”
“So they have a good attitude. What’s that got to do with it?”
“Everything. If they have the drive, it doesn’t matter how much they suck it. They’ll get better. And that’s why I’m worried about the try outs.”
“Because?”
“Because I’d rather have kids who suck right now but have all the right spunk, all the right stuff, make it onto the team, than some half assed hot shots who make it because they won the genetic lottery. I know those types and they make me sick.”
“Well we won the genetic lottery with what we got, wouldn’t you say? You’re naturally athletic and a great leader and I-”
“You’re a genius. That’s what you are. We got these things through luck. Would you say that’s fair?”
“You already know my stance on this.” I said.
“What makes you and I more deserving of being, uh, a-a great athlete or a great academic any more than any of these other people? What makes us special?”
“In the grand scheme of things? Nothing. Nothing at all.”
“And that’s exactly my point. None of those guys who are just naturally good are any more deserving of making the team than anyone else. Sure some of them may have the ethic, many of them do, but there’s always the ones that slip through the cracks and skate by because of the luck of their birth. That’s why I’d rather have the kids who have all the attitude and none of the skill right now because the attitude can’t be taught. I can teach them soccer, they can practice that. It’s a lot harder to teach a work ethic and self-motivation than sports.”
“So pick ‘em yourself. I’m sure by the time try outs roll around you’ll know which ones have the stones you want.”
“I can’t. I have a bit of influence but not the final say. And the coach wants us in regionals this year and realistically, we probably won’t get it this year if we pick the kids on that losing team. Team 1 will always be picked over Team 4 because they’re just naturally better players.”
“So tell all this to the coach. I’m sure he’ll listen.”
She huffed. “Unlikely.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s the coach! He does whatever he wants. He just put me in charge this year because we got a fuck ton more people than expected.”	
“I don’t believe you.”
“What?”
“I don’t believe you. I don’t.”
“I thought we were just venting to each other like we always do.”
“Maybe you were but still, I don’t believe you. I think if you wanted to, you could convince the coach to let you pick the players you want.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Why?”
“Regionals,” she said as though it were obvious.
“Just ask. Ask if you can form your own hand-picked micro team or something. I’m sure, at the very least, by the end of the year you could have players who were half decent. And in another year, they’d rival the naturals. And in a year after that, they’d probably be better.”
“What makes you say that?”
“If they’re as great as you make them out to be, they just will. Probably sooner. Like you said, you can’t teach a work ethic.”
“Well what if coach says no? Hmm?”
“Spitfire, if you don’t ask, the answer will always be no. Just use your words, make your argument like you did to me. And if he has a good head on his shoulders, he’ll listen to you and let you do what you want.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“Well then you tried. No one would fault you for that. Plus I really think he’ll say yes.”
“And how do you know that?”
“It’d be in his best interests to let you do what you want. Believe me, I know from experience.”
She laughed. “Alright, alright. You’ve convinced me. I’ll try to make my case.”
“Do or do not. There is no try. And I thought that’s what you were doing with me.”
“You’re supposed to be dead Master Yoda. And no, I was ranting to you.”
“Some rant.”
“Bite me.”
“Humph.”
We walked in silence for a little while longer. The sun had already begun to fall behind the mountain with more than half of it gone. The sky was lit up with reds and oranges, like a flame stopped in time suspended above the mountain. Fingers of bright ruby reds and fiery oranges licked the sky, reaching up from the lip of the mountain towards the heavens. We stopped to admire it.
“So,” Spitfire coughed. “You gonna tell me what school you picked out yet?”
“You know I can’t answer that.”
“Yes you can. You just don’t want to.”
“No, I mean I really can’t answer that yet.”
“What schools did you apply to that are still accepting applicants right now? Almost every major university’s deadline passed weeks ago.”
“I made a few calls and got permission from a few of them. There’s one I’m waiting on.”
“Wanna tell me what it is?”
“Not yet. When I get a result, I’ll tell you.”
“Now that’s just not fair. You know where I’m going.”
“You’re doing the Air Force. That’s no big secret.”
“Then why won’t you tell me?”
“Some of the places are a little… strange. Let’s just put it that way for now.”
“Fine.” She sighed. “Since you’re so adamant about keeping this a secret from your best friend.”
“If it makes you feel better, my backup is CCU. Practically next door.”
“Well if you end up there, we’ll still get to see a lot of each other when I get back from boot camp.”
“Until you get deployed or assigned a base.”
“Eh, I’m going in for officer’s school after basic. The academy and base are right nearby. Not as close as Central but no more than a half hour’s drive.”
“Well that’s good. I’m sure your mom loves that.”
“Oh yeah, she’s over joyed.” Spitfire deadpanned.
“Oh really?”
“No not really. She still hasn’t gotten over me leaving for basic in a few weeks. When I do Officer’s school she’ll probably force me to come home.”
“I’m sure you could get a place on base or somewhere nearby if it bothers you.”
“No, it doesn’t bother me that much. Just that… ah, I can already tell my mom’s not ready to say goodbye yet. Dad too but he does a better job at hiding it. But I can tell they’re really taking it kinda hard.”
“It’s part of growing up.” I said. “I’m sure they did the same to their parents.”
“Oh of course. Thankfully I can still lord that over them that the only reason they met was because they went away for college. Even better is because it’s compounded by the fact that they met your folks by extension.”
“You should be thankful. Without that, we never would have met.”
“And I thank the lord for it every day.” She rolled her eyes. “But in all seriousness… Sometimes I just wish they could just learn to let me go. We’re not always going to be here and be the same people. At some point they’ll have to accept that we’re growing up and saying goodbye to people is part of that.”
“Jeez, you make it sound like we’re dying not graduating.”
“Is there really a difference?” She laughed.
I smiled. “Well when you put it that way.”
Only a sliver of light remained visible. The sky was beginning to darken. I gave a pat to my stomach.
“Here’s hoping the Freshman Fifteen doesn’t hit me too hard.”
Spitfire grinned and gave my gun a whack. “Here’s hoping it does. You could use a few pounds.”
“Gee thanks.”
“Well you always were a bit scrawny.”
“Not my fault I have a high metabolism. And I happen to enjoy being able to eat whatever I want with no consequences.”
“If you do eat like crap all the time you’ll end up with diabetes.”
“Hey, just because I can, doesn’t mean I do.”
“Yeah I know. I’m just busting you.”
I smiled. “So how about your Freshman Fifteen?”
“Military? Pretty sure it doesn’t apply. Except for muscle.”
“Well don’t come back too buff.”
“Why? Don’t want me beating you up any more than I already do?”
“No. Just want to make sure Rory still recognizes you.”
She growled. “I swear to god I’m gonna put you somewhere dark and damp with no light if you keep that up.”
“A coffin will do just as nicely.”
“Yeah, that’s perfect! I’ll write on your tombstone too! Here lies Campion, asshole extraordinaire. Rest in pieces.”
“I think you mean peace.”
“Nope. Pieces.”
“If your mother heard that she would be very upset. And then you’d have to deal with mine.”
Spitfire giggled. “Please. Your mother loves me like the daughter she never had.”
“We’ll see about that one. Come on. It’s getting late.”
“Aww, and here I thought we were gonna stay here all night.”
I smiled as we started walking. Her wit could sometimes use work but in general, it was a work of art. I loved our conversations like nothing else. More than few times we would revisit the same topic, yet I never got tired of it. Most of our talks were just us talking bullshit but, it was the greatest bullshit ever spoken. If there had been a contest we would have won. She was among the few people on earth who would never bore. That was the very first promise she ever made to me.
Our parents had shoved us together when we were five. I was shy. She wasn’t. She’d grabbed me by the hand and ran off into the playground while our parents looked on. I wanted to go back to my mother but she made me stay. She promised that, at the very least for the rest of the day, I would not be bored. And she was right. We shouted, we laughed, and we played, for the first time ever we had found a way back into Eden. We fought dragons, journeyed to far off lands, rescued princes and princesses and explored strange new worlds. And every day since then, she would take my hand and we would return to garden. And she would never let go.


✧✦✧


I don’t really remember too much of the morning. I never really do. Getting up early always sucks. Muscle memory alone was probably the only reason I was ever even able to start the day. Still, I managed to stumble out of bed and go through my morning routine before trudging outside to the bus stop. Spitfire was waiting, coffee in hand.
“Morning.” I yawned. “Sleep well princess?”
“Fuck off.” She groaned. “Coffee first.”
“You already have a cup.”
“Second one today.”
“Black?”
“You know it.”
“I still don’t know how the fuck you drink that shit.”
“How do you not drink it?” She asked. “The real miracle of nature is how you get up every day without a pick me up. No coffee, nothing.”
“Hey, I do drink tea occasionally. Plus tea just tastes better than that poison you drink.”
“Poison. This poison is the only thing keeping me standing right now.”
“Sure it is.”
“Coffee is love. Coffee is life.”
“Ew. Tea drinkers master race.”
“Wimp.” She said taking a sip of her devil water.
“I’m not the one who needs it to wake up every day.”
“Once again, fuck off.”
“Okay, bye.” I turned and began walking in the direction of my house only to be stopped by a yank of my backpack strap.
“No. Bad flower boy. Stay.”
“Flower boy? Haven’t heard that one in a while.”
She yawned. “Your name is Campion isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Well there is a group of flowering plants called Campions. Hence your name flower boy.”
“Yeah you wanna cut that out?”
“Have we found your trigger word?” She smiled.
“Do you want to walk home alone today?”
“Empty threat. You haven’t stayed late on Tuesdays in ages.”
“I’ve been busy with college stuff. I can’t do that at the school while you take your sweat ass time running freshman into the ground.”
“Yeah, yeah I know. I just miss you the days you don’t show up. It’s a long walk home.”
“Gee, I didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”
“Now I wouldn’t call it that. Merely that your absence is an inconvenience.”
“As compared to my presence? Because with the way you talk, it’s anyone’s guess.”
She smiled. “Still an inconvenience. Just not as bad as you not being there.”
I laughed. “Well I’ll be sure to be there tomorrow. Count on it.”
“Oh I will.”
Soon the bus arrived and we hoped on. Spitfire sat with one of her friends from the soccer team like she usually did. I grabbed a seat up front near the door and removed a book from my bag and read the rest of the ride away. 
By this point in the year, we were really just going through the motions until graduation; wake up, come to school, go home. The days had really started to blend together with the only real ups and downs being the ride there and the walk back. Normally, we would be looking forward to summer vacation. But this year, everything was changing. I couldn’t help but feel sad about the halcyon days we used to enjoy every June, July, and August. Like the setting of the sun, we all knew it eventually had to end each and every fall. Though this year, it would be ending forever, at least as we saw it. Everything in the world, even the passionate days of summer youth and the cold death brought on by an old winter was mortal in its own way. Still, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, like it always ways. It was life.
I arrived home a little late. I still had some paper work to finish for some of my choices. I had already been accepted to a few schools though not nearly as many as I would have liked. Still, my backup had said yes so there was a small comfort in that. 
My mother greeted me at the door with an excited look on her face and a cooking apron draped over her. The smell of something baking filled the air.
“What’s all this about?” I asked.
“Oh nothing.” She said casually. “Just that my son got accepted to his top choice!”
I frowned. “What?”
“Here. Look.” She shoved an already opened envelope into my hand. I glanced at the header. The name was familiar; very familiar. The location and address were in the town over from where my aunt and uncle lived. The country it was from, another story all together. The words on the page were what interested me the most.

Dear Mr. Campion Stone,

I am delighted to inform you that the Committee on Admissions and Financial Aid has voted to offer you a place in the Clausthal 		Class of 2014. Following an old Clausthal tradition, an admission certificate is enclosed. Please accept my personal congratulations for your outstanding achievements.

This year, nearly six thousand students applied for admission to the entering class. Faced with many more talented and highly qualified candidates than it had room to admit, the Admissions Committee took great care to choose individuals with exceptional character as well as unusual academic and extracurricular strengths. The Committee is convinced that you will make important contributions during your college years and beyond. 

Our faculty and students extend a special invitation for you to visit Zellerfeld in the coming months. If you would feel a visit would be helpful to you in making your final choice, we hope you will take advantage of this opportunity. An invitation is enclosed. 

You have until May 1 to respond to our offer. However, we are enclosing with this letter a reply card for your use in case you are able to inform us of your decision before the May 1 reply date. A complete admission packet will be mailed to you in early April.

We very much hope that you will decide to attend Clausthal, and we look forward to having you join us in September.

Yours Sincerely,

Slate R. Fescue.
Dean of Admissions and Financial Aid

I looked up and smiled. This was it. I should have felt overjoyed. My top choice for schools had said yes. An internationally renowned school not too far from where my mother’s sister lived. It was perfect. But I didn’t feel anything. Still, I put on a fake smile for my mother and laughed. I at least pretended to be as excited as I should have. 
It was odd. I really wanted to be. I knew I should have felt on top of the world and then some. But yet I didn’t. Something nagged at the back of my mind. It should have pass, I figured. I was probably just in shock. I really hoped I was.
My mother snatched the letter from my hands and snapped a picture of it on her phone before handing it back to me.
“Oh I am so posting this!” She beamed. “The girls at work are going to love to eat this up! Cake tonight! We’re celebrating this!”
“Yeah, whatever you do don’t tag me.” I shrugged off and head upstairs. 
My room was relatively clean. I like to keep it semi organized or about as close to controlled chaos as I could get it. Still, the one area that was a perpetual hellhole was my desk. A clutter of papers and documents littered its surface. A lot of them now were acceptance letters, rejection letters, applications and their essays or just plain old homework. I stared at it. 
I set my bag down and began to find all the acceptance, rejection, and application related papers and began tossing them into the recycling bin, shredding the ones with any sensitive information before starting on my homework. A few hours later, I had all but finished when I a frantic banging mixed in with a ringing doorbell got my attention.
“I got it!” My mother shouted. I heard the creak of the door opening and a familiar voice echoed up the stairs.
“Spitfire! Please, please come in!” my mom greeted.
“Uh, no thank you, that’s fine. Uh, I was just wondering if Campion was home.” She asked.
“Of course. He’s upstairs in his room. Would you like to come in?”
“Uh, no really, it’s fine.” She said. Something wasn’t right. “Can you, uh, can you send him down for me? I just want to talk to him about something quick.”
“Um, sure. Do you, uh, do you want privacy?”
“Yes please, uh, thank you. I’d like that.” 
“Sure. Campion!” She shouted. “Spitfire’s here!”
I sighed and pushed my calculus away.
“Be right down!” I replied pulling on my slippers. I headed down the stairs. Spitfire was waiting the door. She was still in her soccer gear which was odd for her, especially at this hour. She had an almost unrecognizable look on her face.
“Well, I’ll just leave you two be.” My mom said taking her leave and returning to the kitchen.
I leaned against the railing. “What’s up, girly?”
“Can we talk outside?” She asked quietly and stoically.
I frowned. “Uh, sure.”
I followed her out the front door and closed it behind me. Spitfire moved to the front yard and began slowly pacing, her gaze shifting from the road to the sky, a rather uncomfortable look on her face.
“So what’s this about?”
She turned and removed her phone from her pocket and held it up.
“You wanna explain this to me?” She asked. She was trying to hold something back but a small amount of venom leaked out of mouth.
I glanced at the screen and sighed. My mother’s post from three hours ago. Sure enough, I was tagged in it, though I don’t think that’s what Spitfire was focused on.

My son got accepted to his top choice! So proud! Clausthal University of Technology just gained a magnificent new student! Watch out Germaney, Campion’s coming to town!

I looked up. Spitfire’s face hid none of her malice now. I took a step back. Never had I seen her angry like this before, least of all angry at me.
“What the fuck is this?!” She shouted.
I swallowed. “W-what do you mean?”
“What do I mean?! You’re going to Germaney?! You don’t think this is something you wanted to tell, oh I don’t know, someone who’s supposed to be your best friend?!”
“It hasn’t been finalized yet.” I said quietly. “I just got the letter today.”
“I don’t give a shit! This is why you never wanted to tell me what schools you were considering weren’t you? You’re just gonna up and fucking leave!”
“I had a few choices in the country. This was just my reach.”
“Oh, in the country. I see. Just this place is across the fucking ocean huh? Left out that detail didn’t we?!”
“It’s a good school.” I said, my voice returning to its normal volume. “It’s one of the best technology schools in the world. How could I not apply to it?”
“How could you not tell me about it?”
“Why’s it such a problem for you?”
“Why’s it such a problem? Because you never said anything! You don’t just keep secrets like that! What? Were you just going to up and leave the country and not tell anyone?”
“N-no!”
“Bullshit! If you were going to tell anyone you would have done it already! Just admit it! You were planning on leaving without a fucking word to the rest of us!”
“What difference does it make?” I asked. “You’re joining the Air Force and leaving for twelve weeks! You’re not going to be around all summer!”
“There’s a difference!” She snarled. “I-I I told you and everyone I cared about! I don’t have control over when I go to boot camp. You think I want to just leave for the summer?! When I get back, all you guys are going to be gone!”
“Everyone’s going to college! It’s what people our age do!”
“Oh really? Skipping out half way across the world without saying goodbye is what people do nowadays? You know, I’ve seen people pull some real dick moves but this, this has to take the cake!”
“It’s just college, Spitfire!”
“It’s not just college, you moron! What the fuck were you thinking?! That you were just gonna skip town while I’m away? What the fuck?”
“We’ve grown up! Moving away is part of it! You said so yourself!”
She shook her head with a furiousness that bordered on demonic.
“Not like this! You can’t just leave like that! You can’t!” She shouted, her voice staring to crack.
“What about you, huh?! You’re joining the military! How do you think the rest of us feel about that?”
“I’m going to officer’s school after basic. And unlike you, I at least had the courtesy to tell my best friend about it!”
“So what?! What comes after officer’s training huh? You’re gonna end up on some base somewhere, moving from place to place for months or years on end! None of us are going to see you, least of all your parents!”
“Shut up about them.” She snarled. “You leave them out of this!”
“Well if we’re talking about leaving like this we might as well have all our cards on the table! Have you ever thought about how we all feel about your decision to enlist?”
“It was my choice to serve my country, not yours or anyone else’s!”
“Yeah, and we gave you that respect because it was the decent thing to do! Your choice! Not mine and certainly not your mother’s and father’s!”
“Shut up! Just shut up!”
“No. You wanna know how we all really feel about it?! Our worst nightmare is you’re going to get deployed to some far off place in god knows what country and you’re not going to come back! How do you think your parents would feel if we had to BURY you?!”
“Just shut up.” She whimpered. Tears were beginning to flow down her face.
“Do you have any idea how much the idea of you enlisting scares me?! Do you even know what that would do to us if we lost you in that goddamn war?! Huh?! Do you?!”
“Yes.” She whispered. “I do.”
“I don’t think you do! It would destroy us! It would destroy me. It would eat me up until the day I died. You getting killed over there would kill me in ways those assholes who attacked the Capital only dream of. And the fear of-of-of losing you only gets worse as graduation approaches. Do you know what that feels like?”
“… Yes…”
“Really?”
“Yes! Alright?! Yes I do know what that feels like! Why do you think I enlisted?!”
“You like flying! You love it! Anyone who knows you can see that!”
“You’re such a fucking idiot if you think that’s it! It was for you! All for you! To protect YOU! That’s why I joined. That fear of losing the people I care about! You don’t think I don’t know it?! It’s why I enlisted! Not because I’m some trigger happy yahoo patriot who just want to fly a fighter jet! Because I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you or anyone else in this small town close to me! And to find out that not only were you going across the ocean to some other country and hadn’t even bothered telling me was the biggest slap in the face I’ve ever gotten!”
“I just got the letter today!”
“You never even told me you applied! Let me ask you this, were you ever going to tell me that you were moving overseas?!”
I crossed my arms. “That’s not fair.”
“Answer the question! Were you ever going to tell me?!”
“That’s not a fair question to ask.”
“Yes it is! Just tell me!”
“Why?!”
“Answer me.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Please.” She choked. “Just tell me if you were going to leave with-without saying goodbye to me. Just tell me that.”
I sighed. “…Yes. I was.”
That was where I broke. I could have just lied. I really could have. It would have been so easy just to tell her a cheap lie. The spanner was that I was honest, just naturally so. If I could barely lie to my teachers when I occasionally missed a homework assignment, I could never lie to her, least of all right now. Still, if I could it would have saved me what came next.
The look of hurt on her face burned me to very soul. It felt like there was lump on my heart itself when I looked at the expression of pure pain upon her angelic face. I fucked up and fucked up big time. She stepped away from me and wiped her eyes.
“Spitfire I-”
“You know what?” She sniffed. “I don’t even care anymore.”
“Spitfire I’m-”
“No! You know what? I don’t give a fuck anymore!”
“Spitfire, please. Don’t be this way.”
“No, no, this? This is bullshit. Do whatever the fuck you want, I don’t give two flying fucks what you do anymore!”
“If you would just- please just let me talk?”
“Go ahead, move across the fucking ocean! See if I care! I’m done caring.” She shouted and stormed off my yard and down the street.
I called after her. “Spitfire!”
“Fuck off!” She began running. I tried to catch up to her but there was no point. If she didn’t want me touching her it wasn’t going to happen. For once, I cursed myself for being slower than her. I really did. 
I stopped and collapsed to my knees on the lawn. There she was. Gone. 


✧✦✧


Spitfire was right. If I’d gotten accepted, I wasn’t planning on telling her. And I did get accepted. It would have been easier if she didn’t know, at least in my mind. The less she knew the better. There were a few problems. 
Truly, it was the school of my dreams. My aunt and uncle gave me a tour of the place when I’d visited the previous summer. My Germane was rusty but more than functional, it was the perfect choice. Or it would have been had it been closer to home. Distance was the problem.
No matter what, she was always going have a home here. She was always going to be here. If I wanted to go, and potentially get the opportunity of a lifetime to attend one of the greatest schools in the world, I would have to say goodbye to the one constant in my life that meant more to me than I would have liked to admit. She would be here, I would be there. 
I hated goodbyes. I hated them on nearly every level possible. The permanence of the word was just disgusting in my mind. I never said goodbye when I didn’t have to. Any situation where it was called for, either could have it be remedied by another phrase, or was one undeserving of any phrase at all. Goodbyes were the things that prolonged the removal of the Band-Aid rather than just quickly pulling it off. They only made the pain worse in the long run. Better to just get it over quickly and as painlessly as possible. 
At least, that’s what I’d thought. In the years that we had known each other, we’d become inseparable. And now we had to separate. And it was going to hurt no matter what I did. So, in my infinite wisdom that I was now questioning, I made a promise to myself. If I got in, I would just go. No goodbyes, no going away parties, no nothing. Just me on a flight to Germaney and that’s that. It was supposed to be simple. But it never was.
She was supposed to be just a playmate, but she didn’t stay that way. After that it was an acquaintance but we didn’t stay that either. Soon we were childhood friends but that changed too. Childhood friends became close friends as elementary and middle school rolled around followed by best friends. Best friends. We were best friends and there was no denying that. She was the Ying to my Yang, the one balancing force of my life. She was my best friend. She was as close as a sibling and I saw her as such. Only problem was what the lessons history had taught: things never stayed the same. 
In physics, we learned all about gravity and the Law of Universal Gravitation. It states that any two bodies in the universe attract each other with a force that is directly proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. In other words, keep two objects in close proximity to each other eventually, they will get closer and closer and closer until they collide and become one due to the gravitational attraction. It was what kept all large objects together from planets to stars. 
She was a star and she was pulling me in, no matter how much I wished it wasn’t happening. So I had to leave before she pulled me in for good. Only, now I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
And so I sat on the lawn for long time, almost a few hours, until my mother opened the door with a worried expression on her face.
“Honey? Is everything alright?”
I sighed. “No.”
She walked outside and stood next to me. “You wanna talk about it?”
“Spitfire’s gone.” I choked out.
“I saw. You gonna do anything about it? She’s a nice girl.”
“She is a nice girl.”
“You should really fix whatever’s wrong between you two.”
“I don’t think I can.” My voice was cracking now. I hated it when that happened.
“Yes you can. You’re my son, you can solve anything.”
“Not this. I don’t think I can fix this.”
“Campion Gromwel Stone! I don’t know what happened between you and Spitfire but you are going to march your butt over to her house right now and you are not going to come home until you fix it.”
“She doesn’t want to talk to me. Hell, I don’t even want to talk to me.” 
“Well that’s just too bad for her. She’s just going to have to get over it.”
“Not this.” I said.
“Campion! Now it doesn’t take a genius to see just how close you two are and I’ll be damned if I let you two be split apart by whatever this was.”
“It was pretty bad.”
“Not bad enough obviously. You’re still sitting here.”
“She told me to fuck off.”
“So what?!” my mom yelled. “Everyone has moments like this. It’s part of life.”
“What if she’s not home?”
“Then you sit on her front steps and you wait until she is.”
“She’s really mad at me.”
“If you don’t stop your whining and go fix this right this second so help you god. Now go!” She kicked me in the thigh.
“Ow! What the hell?”
“Move it! Get going! And bring my daughter in law over for dinner when you’re done.”
“Ah, geez. Stop it!” I yelled getting up. 
“Good. Now get out of here. I don’t want to see you back here unless you bring her with you. Capeesh?”
“Fine. But if I get kicked off her property, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I’ll be making some phone calls if you do. Now go.”
I sighed and started walking. Spitfire lived a stone’s throw away from me. Just a bit down the street and around the corner. This assumed she was even there but it was all I had. A few minutes later I was standing in front of her door. It suddenly looked a lot more imposing now that I was here, despite being so familiar.
I swallowed and gave it a gentle knock. A tall woman with bright orange hair answered the door. She had a sad expression on her face that immediately hardened.
“Hi, uh, is Spitfire home?” I asked.
The woman nodded. “Yes, she’s been in her room sobbing for the last hour. What did you do to her?”
“Please, Mrs. Pegasi, just let me fix it.”
She raised an eyebrow. “First time you’ve ever called me Mrs. Pegasi, Campion. Very well.”
She stepped aside and held the door open. 
“Thank you.” I said.
“I trust you know that way in?” She said.
“Yeah. I think I got it.”
“You better.”
I nodded and started up the steps towards the bedrooms. I couldn’t hear any crying but the silence wasn’t very comforting. Most days, I could hear punk rock and techno coming from her room or hear her swearing at her TV when she was playing video games. Today, it was quiet, and it was most certainly deafening. 
I found her door easily enough. Movie and band posters plastered it like it was a billboard. It was cracked open just barely. I gave a small knock.
“Come in.” Came a whisper.
The door creaked when I pushed it open and stepped inside. Her room was dark, the lights were off, the only light coming from the glow of her phone. Spitfire laid curled on her bed, staring into her cellphone. I caught a quick glance before she blacked out the screen. It was us as kids, the first time we got to ride the Zapp Coaster, the day she adopted her signature hairstyle.
She sat up. We both stared at each other.
“Hey, uh, listen.” I started. “I’m really sorry about everything. I should’ve told you. You had every right to know and I was wrong to keep that from you and you have every right to hate me right now and-”
“I don’t hate you.” She said, her voice cracking.
“What?”
“I don’t hate you. I never did.”
“But you-”
“Don’t get me wrong, you pissed me the fuck off today, but you’re still my best friend in the whole fucking world. I could never hate you.”
“Alright, uh, thank you.”
“And look, you were right about some things. I shouldn’t be so hard on you for choosing to follow your dreams. If you want to go to school overseas to study, that’s your choice and yours alone. I shouldn’t have been such a bitch about it.”
“No, you had every right to be. I never said anything and…”
“You were planning on leaving without saying goodbye to me.”
“Yeah, and, uh, that.”
“That hurt.” She said. “That really hurt to know you were going to do that.”
“I know.” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“Why?” She asked. “Why would you just leave like that?”
I sighed. “Because it would hurt less.”
“What?”
“Saying goodbyes always hurt. No matter how they’re done, they just hurt. That’s a law of the world. I thought, if I just left without saying anything, it would hurt less for you and-”
My words were cut off by a swift slap to the face. Spitfire sat on her knees on her bed, again with a pained yet angry look upon her face.
“Don’t you EVER try do anything like that ever again.” 
“Like what- Ow!” She cut me off with another smack to the face.
“Shut up. I’ll let you know when I’m finished. Don’t you EVER try to do anything to spare me pain ever again. What? Did you think you were doing me a favor? Yes, seeing you move away to Germaney for, what? Four years? Yes saying goodbye to you would hurt like nothing else in my life but… but you just leaving like that, without me seeing you one last time… that would hurt far more. So please, don’t try to spare me from anything ever again.”
“Alright. I promise.”
“Good. And please, when I do leave for basic, or when I do get deployed, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I always am.”
“You know that’s a promise I’m not keeping.”
She laughed. It was a little choked but a laugh none the less. “Had to try.”
I sat down next to her and offered her a small smile which she happily returned. God, she was so beautiful. She scooted over a little closer to me.
“Hey, you remember that time in middle school when you got detention for a week?” She asked.
“Yeah. It was the only time I got in trouble for anything.”
“You remember what it was about?”
“Vaguely. Some asshole in our history class who wouldn’t shut up about your hair or something, right?”
She laughed. “Yeah, that was it. He kept making stupid campfire jokes about roasting marsh mellows over my head or something stupid like that.”
“And he had like five pencils tapped together to make stick and kept poking your hair with it.” I laughed.
“Yeah. Whenever the teacher turned around or wasn’t paying attention, he’d poke me in the head or whisper some bullshit about it.”
“I remember that for sure. He started pissing me off.”
“I think that was the first time I ever heard you swear.” She was giggling now. “He made another one of those stupid jokes to one of his buddies and with the most deadpan serious voice I ever heard, you turn around and say, ‘Can you shut your fuckin’ mouth for more than a few minutes?’”
I cracked up. “Yeah I definitely remember that!”
“Then it got real quiet in class and the teacher looked at you asked if there was a problem and you just gave him this stupid shit eating grin and said no.”
“Yeah, and then that little asshole started stabbing me in the back of the head with his stupid pencil stick.”
“And then you closed your textbook and slapped him dead in the face with it!” She was rolling over her blankets.
I rubbed the back of my head. “Yeah, too bad he played football and threw me out of my chair and started beating the shit out of me. I got a black eye from that.”
“Well, yeah that happened.”
“You’re forgetting the best part. Fortunately for me, some weird girl in my class with this fire like hair and a cute face came in and started kicking the shit out of him and got him off of me. What was her name again?”
“Oh ha, ha, very funny. I got detention for that too you know.”
“At least you didn’t get suspended. Or a black eye.”
“Still. You got yourself beat up because some asshole was making fun of my hair.”
“And you got yourself detention for beating him up.”
“Still, that was one of the moments that really stuck out for me. You were right there, when everyone, even the teacher was letting it happen, you stood up. Maybe not in the most elegant, Rose Parks, Dr. King type way but, you stood up. I never, ever forgot that.”
“Funny, I almost did until you reminded me.”
“Still. I don’t think you have any idea what that meant for me.”
“I was just glad I was in a position or had the balls, rather, to do something about it for once.”
“Hmm.”
She sat up again and moved back next to me. She slid over a little close, but it was strangely comforting. She sighed and leaned a head on my shoulder. I jumped a little but allowed her to stay.
“You know. When Rory asked me to prom, I was never going to say yes to him.”
“Yeah you told me. You never let me live it down.”
“No, not like that. I… I mean that I would have never have said yes to him, no matter what he said or did or no matter what was going on. I would have never have gone to that dance with him or anyone else. Ever.”
“Who would you have gone with, then?” I turned to face her.
She looked up and smiled. “You.”
I blinked. Her smile grew.
“Now’s the part where you say, ‘me too.’”
“I, uh, me too?”
“Good boy.”
Suddenly, my whole face heated up as her lips kissed mine. Her eyes were closed in an expression of bliss as I felt my spine lock up. It wasn’t like how I imagined a first kiss to be like. Nothing like the movies, no passionate film embellishments, just a gentle contact that conveyed all the emotions felt.
She broke the kiss with a small smile on her face. What little light from the hallway lit up a red blush on her face. A similar one, no doubt burned across my own.
“I, um, uh, wow, that was-”
“Fun.” She finished.
“Yeah. Uh, that was fun.”
She leaned her head back into my shoulder. 
“Make me this one promise.”
“Anything.”
“You’re going to go over there, I can’t stop that, and you’re going to do great things no doubt, but just promise me you’ll come back. Promise that you’ll come find me.”
“I promise.”
“Are you sure?”
I laughed and wrapped my arm around her. “Yeah. I’ve never been more sure in my life.”
Eventually, we fell back onto her bed, simply holding each other in our arms. It was comfortable to be with her, far more comfortable than I’d ever been in my entire life. There was a warmth that came with it, a warmth that heated one’s very soul. Soon we fell asleep in each other’s arms, as innocently as we ever could. Even in sleep, I felt more alive than I ever had before. And it was beautiful. 
We had a few short months left together and we treasured every second of it. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was life.
> On the silver wings of morning.
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When we were kids, I used to hate it when she busted me like this. She was no cunning linguist but she had a way of using just the right words to get under my skin. At least, at the time it seemed like magic. Still, she got a kick out of it. Even then, when I was younger and fuming at her words, I still found it fun to watch her laugh.
“You know,” She elbowed me. “We keep this up we’ll be married when we’re grown-ups.”
“Stop it!” I shoved her. We’d just finished our track meet and were sitting on a nearby playscape, eating snacks and drinking water after a good set of runs. Our parents were taking a bit longer than usual, talking with each other and overall having as good time as we were. We didn’t mind, it gave us more time together before we had to go home.
She laughed. “Why do you think your mom and my mom want us to play together all the time?”
“No!”
“Oh don’t be a baby! What? You think I have cooties or something dumb like that?”
“Probably.”
“I don’t think you do. You wouldn’t stick around with me like this if you did.”
“Girls are icky.”
“And yet your best friend is one.”
“You’re not a girl.”
“Yes I am. Just because I don’t dress in pink like those frilly sissies doesn’t mean I’m not a girl.”
“Well you don’t act like one. You do boy things with me.”
“Because boy things are fun. Tea parties are boring.”
I laughed. “Yeah they are.”
“So, best friend, what shall we do today?”
“Anything but a tea party.”
“Sounds good.”
She took a swig from her water.
“Wanna get married?”
“Stop it! Why do you keep doing that?”
“The face you make. You turn into an apple. It’s funny.”
“Humph. You could at least do something funny too.”
“Hmm, nah. I can’t just be funny on the spot. Not like you.”
“Stop it.”
“Spitfire and Campion sitting in a tree. K I S S I N G.”
“Aw come on! Why are you singing that now?”
“Eh, I don’t know. It sounds funny. And the ones who started that are idiots.”
“I wish they’d stop. We are not in love with each other.” I crossed my arms.
“You got that right.” She said taking a bit from a granola bar. “At least not yet.”
“Stop it!” I blushed. 
Spitfire started giggling and fell over, holding her stomach.
Our parents came over. They seemed happy. Spitfire managed to get her giggling under control and looked up.
Spitfire’s mother spoke first. “Having fun?”
Spitfire laughed. Funny how much I enjoyed the sound of her laughter, even back then.
“Yeah.”
“She keeps teasing me.” I frowned.
“Oh sweetie.” My mother smiled. “It’s because she likes you.”
“Do not! He’s just my friend is all!”
Our parents shared a glance before turning to face us.
“How would you two like to go to Six Flags today?”
We perked up.
“YES!” 
“Well, hurry up and pack your stuff up and we’ll leave.”
“You mean it?” Spitfire asked, excited puppy eyes taking over her face. “Really?”
“Of course.”
“Can we ride the Zapp roller coaster this time?”
“Only if you’re tall enough.”
We both shared a look and smiled. 
“I think we’re both tall enough.” I said.
“Well then get moving.” My mom tousled my hair.
We hoped up and started packing up our things into our bags. Spitfire grinned.
“Aw yeah!” She pumped her fist. “This definitely beats tea parties!”


✧✦✧


I knew what to expect showing up like this. To my credit and my defense, she wrote sparsely in the intervening years. Actually, that’s a lie. The first few years or so of college, we kept in contact the old fashion way. Pen and paper, postage stamps and envelops, the whole shebang. And again, to be completely honest, it had been my idea to do it that way. Sentimentality at its best. But to her credit, she was all for it. 
So as soon as she left, I started getting weekly letters addressed from some strange town in some strange place way down south. I was honestly surprised that she even had the time to write during basic training, but she did. Each was handwritten, her handwriting marked clearly on the page and her prose short and concise. She wasted no time in her letters, each opened with what she had been doing that week and what was coming the following week, followed by simple updates on camp life when she wasn’t training. The last parts of her letters always made me smile. She could develop her hard exterior all she wanted, but she still had a beautiful softer side that made its way into her writing. Her sentiments didn’t go unappreciated. A lot of it was dedicated to reiterating how much she missed us and all her friends back here. 
She consistently requested updates on life back home before everyone left for college. I did my best to update her. Jane Doe number one broke up with John Doe number three, Jane Doe number two went on vacation to Asia, John Doe number four landed in the hospital after a minor car accident, etc. I provided her with simple things, reviews of movies, the weather from the past few days, some photos, and even a few care packages every now and again. I wasn’t sure how successful I was being but I felt as long as I kept writing, it would at least do something for her. More than a few times her letters would come in wrinkled weirdly in a few spots. It could have simply been water though I don’t think she thought she was fooling anyone.
Soon, however, I had to leave for university. My last letter to her had my mailing address. The experience was nice, the classes were challenging enough but nothing I couldn’t handle. Still, Spitfire’s absence began to grow more and more noticeable as time went by. Her letters still came, though lately her mailing address was somewhere a lot closer to home, which was a small comfort to me. Basic had changed her a bit but not by much. Her temper and wit was still there and just as fierce as they were before she’d left. I remember the laugh I got when I realized I had accidently sent her a letter that was half in Germane. The following week, she’d enclosed it back in with her own with the parts she couldn’t read circled in bright red with the words “WTF?!?!” in the margins. I took special care to prevent from slipping up like that again. 
The one thing that hung in the air was the question of what we were to each other. We’d gotten a few blissful months together before she had to leave but it had not been nearly enough for either of us. Hardly enough time to call us boyfriend and girlfriend, no matter how much I, or more importantly, she wanted it. Still, the effort was there on both our parts. She made her affections clear in each letter as I did in mine, though it was little substitute for having her near me. We tried, though and that was all that really mattered for the two of us.
By the time, summer rolled back around at the end of my freshman year, she was gone. Officer’s school had long finished by then and she was deployed as a commissioned officer in the Air Force. After that, the frequency of her letters decreased significantly. They arrived far few and far between for my liking, though, when they did they were more like packets than letters. Still, by then, I hadn’t seen her face to face in over a year. 
Her mother did provide a small comfort, making it adamantly clear that Spitfire still wanted things to continue where we had left off and that she still cared just as much, though likely more, than she did when she left. Still, photographs could only provide so much comfort. 
I saved every letter I’d gotten from her and continued to write her every week. Eventually, I returned to Germaney as school resumed. Our conversations still continued, thought the time between responses was agonizingly slow. Still, we were never far from each other’s thoughts as the years passed. 
Then, the letters stopped all together. I remember the last one I’d gotten from her. She was so excited! Her handwriting, which had become elegant and refined over the years had devolved back to its juvenile high school scratch, though I overlooked it. She had good reason to be excited: she was going to be a fighter pilot. I remember bursting into a wide grin the moment I read it. She certainly had done it.
I immediately sent a response back, congratulating her, letting her know how happy I was for her. I never got anything back. I’d assumed that she’d immediately become taken up with her new position as a trainee for one of the most prized positions in the military. Still, it hurt not getting anything from her. I kept in touch with her parents, though they were of little help either as they started to have less and less contact with her too. Their daughter was growing up.
Melancholy had taken root. Not seriously but enough where it began to taint every happy moment I had. I missed her terribly, though it had become clear our lives were taking us in different directions. I hated that. 
I graduated a year early though I didn’t walk. I had called up her parents, wondering if she was going to be there but they said no. She was busy doing a tour overseas, on the complete opposite end of the world. It wouldn’t have been worth it in my mind if she wasn’t going to be there. So I took my degree and moved on. 
Graduate school came next. I got in with a team prototyping reactors and began working on a thesis. Though I became focused with my work, Spitfire was never far from my thoughts. Often times, I found myself loathing her image whenever it danced across my mind. I hated the reminders. My thesis became my solace from her. Eventually, four and a half years after I’d left home, I’d earned a Doctorate for a simple breakthrough I helped make. Campion Stone, PhD. The name was nice but the title was a bit hollow.
Job offers came in droves, though I took none of them. A few of us got together and headed back home and founded our own tech company, based on a few patents we had. I still wrote to Spitfire occasionally, though now it was more to her parents. Money stopped being a problem quickly enough and I left managing the business in the hands of more qualified and less troubled people than myself. I had to see her again.
“Sure you’re up for this boss?” Purslane asked.
“I’m sure.” I said, packing the rest of my things into my duffel.
“You know, you don’t have to resign entirely.”
“You already know I’m not changing my mind.”
“Yes, you’ve made that quite clear. At the very least, you can stay on as CEO and CTO and contribute from home. It’s still your company boss.”
I sighed. “You know I won’t be able to do much. I won’t be around consistently if I do.”
“Then I’ll help you out. Let me take things over for a bit, see how you like it.” She gave a knowing grin.
“Alright. I’ll bite. How long would you be willing to hold down the fort?”
She gave a mocking bow. “As long as you deem necessary. I am after your job, after all.”
“I’m sure you are. Very well. I’ll stay on.”
“Very good, sir.”
I hefted my bag over my shoulder and surveyed my old office. It and a few other offices, one them being Purslane’s, overlooked a larger workspace below. The entire building was headquarters for our company with a series of tech labs located in the lower levels. I gave her a nod and heading down to the elevator.
“Keep in mind, this is only temporary!”
“Of course, sir.” Purslane bowed from the balcony.
I stepped in the elevator.
Purslane perked up. “Can I use your office while you’re away?”
I laughed and tossed a small set of keys up to her. She’d earned it.
“Keep a light on for me.” I said as the doors closed.
I’d quietly secured a position back home on a base near Canterlot City and had a flight booked up north to the big city. After almost six years since high school, tracking her down had been no small task, though it was made a bit easier by her mother. Spitfire’s mother could be just as persistent and as stubborn as her own daughter. Turned out she’d been under my nose the whole time, back home, right where I’d left her. Well, not exactly. Our old neighborhood was one side of the mountain city, her base was on the other. It was almost an hour drive across the mountain and city to get to her. But still, her daughter relented and scheduled a visiting date a week after I moved into my bachelor pad in the Capital and two days before I started my new job.
My apartment was comfortable and I settled in nicely. I had no complaints as I waited the required week for our meeting. I grew anxious as the day approached. Odd, I hadn’t heard from her in three years and yet, we were still technically dating in some weird way. I wondered what she was like. How had she changed in the six years since we last held each other? I guessed I was going to find out, one way or another.
The morning of our meeting arrived. I hoped on my motorcycle and began laughing in my head the whole way to the base. Spitfire was under the assumption that her mother was meeting her here. This was going to be interesting. The ride over allowed for me to enjoy the view. Growing up, we’d seen plenty of the towering spires of the city from our neighborhood, most of the city remaining hidden behind rocky mountains. Now we effectively lived there.
The city itself lay nestled atop a large plateau overlooking a lake on one side and a massive valley on the other. The road I traveled on happened to overlook the wide green pastures below. A small river cut through the valley floor and a small settlement could be seen on its edge. Soon the base came into view. It was nestled safely away from most of the city near the edge of the mountain range. 
It was a series of buildings and hangers all nestled in the fork between two large peaks that both quietly receded into the distance. A long runway followed them into the wild blue yonder before cutting off at a large drop off. A few small aircraft were in the air off in the distance, the screaming of their jets reduced to a dull whisper.
I glanced at my watch.
“Better three hours too early than one minute too late.”
I knocked my helmet and resumed my ride down to the base and the site of my new ‘job.’ I approached the parking lot. From the distance I could see three figures standing in the parking lot near the front gate, waiting patiently. Two were unfamiliar. The third was not.
I smiled under my helmet; her hair was still the same. She’d barely aged a day since I last saw her. Now twenty four, physically, she looked just as young as the last time I saw her. Still, she was definitely different. Aside from her military uniform and sunglasses, she had an air of maturity about her that mixed with her suave confident personality from school. There was little doubt that she was the one in charge. 
She had a bored look on her face as she stared at a small photograph in her hands; a large duffel bag hung from her shoulders. I approached the gate and flashed my ID and pulled up my visor on my helmet. With my identify confirmed, the gate opened and I rode in. The three pilots looked up as I parked my bike. Spitfire flashed a look of annoyance. The other two looked a bit more intrigued. 
One was a woman, no older than Spitfire with snow white hair tied back in a standard military bun. She had striking amethyst colored eyes that somehow managed to project a cold stare my way. The second was a man a good three inches taller than I and about a factor more muscular. Genetics had certainly favored him.
I stepped off my bike, my visor concealing my face.
“Is this him?” the white haired woman asked. Her scratchy voice took me by surprise.
The man looked down at a clipboard in his hands. “The guards let him in so I guess so.”
The white haired woman turned to Spitfire. “Guess this is where we leave you cap.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re dismissed. Just like her to be late anyway.” Spitfire scoffed.
I stepped forward and removed my helmet. That was when Spitfire reeled.
She’d taken a considerable step back, almost like she’d seen a dead man walking. To be fair, I probably was. Even through her sunglasses, the look of shock on her face was evident as her mouth fell open. Slowly, she removed her aviators, revealing her brilliant orange irises as the color began to return to her face.
I smiled. “H-hey girly… Long time.”
She clutched the photo to her chest. “You have no idea.”
The color began to rush back far faster than I would have liked as her face began to turn red. Her surprised look began to twist into a scowl as she marched towards me and promptly punched me square in the face. 
“Aah!” I coughed and fell to one knee, holding my jaw.
“You son of a bitch!” She yelled. If I hadn’t been holding my face in pain I would have laughed. In an instant she was six years younger. My response instead was to roll my jaw and stand up and promptly return the favor. 
She stumbled back, holding her face in a similar manner to mine as we both stared at each other. Spitfire removed her hand from her face. No doubt we were both going to have bruises in the morning.
“H-holy shit,” the white haired woman laughed.
I coughed. “Nice right hook.”
Spitfire cracked her jaw. “Nice left.”
“Captain!” the man stepped forward. “Do you know who you just hit?!”
“Yeah, I know who the FUCK I just hit. Six fucking years! Six years! I told you to come find me when you got back! You fucking promised me right after we got together that night!”
“Oh, sorry! Been a bit busy getting my degrees to come visit someone who couldn’t even bother to write back for the past three years!” I replied.
“I have been writing you! I can’t exactly send you letters from the cockpit of a fighter jet!”
The woman smiled. “That’s a lie.”
“Shut up Fleetfoot! You! I’ve been waiting here for years for you to come back to me! And what do you do instead? You go and found a tech company with some of your college buddies!”
“Oh so you do care! See, I would’ve figured you’d forgotten since you haven’t written anything in THREE YEARS!”
“That’s not true either.” Fleetfoot added.
“SHUT UP!” We both ordered.
Spitfire turned. “See, I would have considering you hadn’t bothered to bring your face around town in the better part of a decade. But luckily for me, you got yourself all over the fucking news with your bullshit! Dr. Campion Stone makes fusion breakthrough of the century! Dr. Campion Stone founds Type 1 Industries. Dr. Campion Stone becomes the youngest millionaire in history! See, it’s a bit hard to forget the fact that you haven’t had face to face contact with your boyfriend in six years when he gets himself plastered all over every godsdamned news outlet in the country!”
“To be fair, that last one only happened a few months ago. And really? That’s why you haven’t forgotten me? Not because I’ve been sending you letters every chance I got?”
“Okay.” She said holding up her hands. “I know it may have seemed romantic at the time, but old fashion letter writing has got to be the worst way to stay in contact today. You could have at least given me your contact info when you just dropped everything and moved overseas!”
“You could have at least put in some effort. I haven’t moved much over the years, unlike someone I know.”
“I have been writing you.”
“Really?! I never would have noticed.”
“I HAVE been writing to you. I just never sent them.”
“Why the hell not?”
She turned red. A blush began to burn across her face.
“Why not?”
She shook her head.
“Answer the question, Spitfire.”
“No.”
“Okay, so we’re back in high school again.”
“What are they talking about?” the man asked.
“No idea.” Fleetfoot replied.
“Because you’re an idiot that’s why!” Spitfire huffed.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes it is.”
I sighed and began walking toward the hangers. “If you don’t want to talk that’s fine. We’ll have plenty of time to get talk it out in the coming weeks.”
“The hell are you talking about?”
The man tapped her on the shoulder.
“What, Soarin’?”
“Uh, you know the new Engineering position?”
“What about it?”
“Well, uh, he just filled it.”
She turned. “What?!”
I smiled. “Did I forget to mention that?”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Sure you will.”
“I take it that my mom’s not coming?” She rolled her eyes.
“How do you think I found you?”
“You’re a dickbag.”
“Fuck off.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned. Spitfire was giving me a look that was fifty percent loathing and fifty percent longing.
“You and me, in hanger twelve, right now.”
“Fine.”
She grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the tarmac. Soon enough we approached the hanger. Aside from an F-22 inside and some service equipment, it was empty.
“So what is it?” I asked.
She turned and promptly shoved me into the wall and our lips connected. Immediately we both melted and our eyes closed. Six years without this, how had we lasted so long without it? With a small moan, she broke it and gave me a stare.
“You got good at that. Been cheating?” I asked.
“Fuck off.” She blushed. “And no. I haven’t. I’ve… I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
“I’m-I’m sorry. I’ve just… I’ve just been so busy… and, damn it.”
“Just take a deep breath and speak. I’m not going anywhere.”
She laughed. “I hope not because I don’t plan on letting you go again.”
“Don’t worry. I’m here to stay.”
“Thank you. I suppose I owe you some kind of explanation.”
“That would be nice.”
She frowned. “You’re supposed to say, ‘no that’s not necessary. I know.’ You know if this was a romantic comedy it’d just- ah fuck it.”
“Still waiting.”
She sighed. “I’ve been leading this squadron for three years now. I’ve focused on nothing else. This, I wanted it badly.”
“I know. I still have the letter you sent me when you got into the training program.”
“Yes. And I got farther than I ever imagined and now… well now we’re-ah! We’re just so close!”
“To what?”
“You know the Royal Flight Squadron? The stunt group?”
“Vaguely. I was out of the country for four years.”
“Well, we’re on the verge of inheriting almost every position on the team. All of us.”
I blinked. “What?”
She grinned. “We’re going to inherit the Wonderbolts. We’re the top squadron in line to replace them when most of the team retires in the fall. The majority of us are all up for it. We want to do it.”
“So what’s the deal?”
She sighed. “I never imagined I would ever get this far. Even in high school, when I wanted to join the air force, I never imagined I’d get here. Captain of my own squadron of amazing pilots, I mean, that’s nuts! And now… well this! It’s all so much.”
“If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”
“Yeah, well, uh. When I make it through training and got assigned with these guys I’m with now, it, uh, it got me thinking. Piloting jets is a dangerous job.”
“Yeah, that’s obvious.”
“Gee thanks.”
I smiled. “You’re welcome.”
“But, uh, it got me thinking about the important things in life. About what’s important to me in life.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of letters. I raised an eyebrow.
“Why do you have these on you?”
She frowned. “Well, I was PLANNING on giving them to my mother to send to you. But seeing as you’re here now, I suppose I can cut out the middle man. See, I did write to you. Whenever I could. It’s just… it would be easier if you read one.”
“Alright.” I said grabbing one and tearing the envelope. I unfolded the paper and glanced at the writing. It had faded a bit from a mixture of water damage and age but it was still very legible. I read the date.
“Three years ago?”
She nodded. “After I sent you my last letter. I, uh, I couldn’t bring myself to send you this, or the ones that followed it. Please… read it.”
“Alright.” I said and began scanning.
The first third of it was typical things about our lives, the updates we had done. The second third got me to raise an eyebrow. The writing was elegant, the prose like a stained glass window. Her language was beautiful as were the sentiments it expressed. If I had been my mother, I would have put a hand to my chest and ‘awwed’ at her words. She wasn’t lying when she said she missed me. 
I got down to the last third of the letter. The paragraph devolved into scribbles. Lines crossed out old sentences, scribbles covered up other words. It was a far cry from the previous paragraph. It screamed conflict and disorder. But the words at the bottom hit me like couple of pool balls in a gym sock.
Spitfire was blushing; blushing harder than I’d ever seen her blush before. Far harder than when we first kissed and far harder than when she boarded her flight to head to boot camp. She made tomatoes and apples jealous.
I looked up. She held another letter. Suddenly we were back in high school, in her room, holding one another in our arms. Suddenly three months once again seemed infinitely short and infinitely long. Suddenly we were teenagers again and the intensity of human experience was turned back up to eleven.
“You- you were, uh, very romantic in your writing. And, uh, I was wrong, letter writing was a good idea. Please, uh, read another.”
I raised an eyebrow and pulled out my pocket knife and cut open the next letter and unfolded it. It was dated about two weeks later and had similar life updates in it. Once again, the middle paragraphs were dedicated to beautifully expressing herself to me with Shakespearian precision and mastery of the pen. Then came the third paragraph that once again was completely scribbled over. Then at the bottom were the same four words. 
I resumed my incredulous staring at her. She held out another letter. I tore it open and read it out like others. Same format as the other two, just a few more weeks down the line. Once again, at the bottom of the page were the same four words. 
I looked up. Another letter. I tore it, read it, and once again found the same words at the bottom of the page.
Another. Another. Another. Another. Another. Another. They all ended with the same four words. I finally just dropped them to the ground and stared at her.
She suddenly looked far too small for her uniform, the boots seeming far too big for her. Her confidence was replaced with a shyness that was utterly alien. 
“I, uh, I wrote you for three years, just like you. But… I couldn’t send them. I couldn’t bring myself to send them to you. I couldn’t bring myself to end them all any other way. I just couldn’t. I, uh, I almost started to wish you’d just stop writing me.”
She reached into her bag again and produced another stack of letters.
“I, um, I saved all of them. But, letters can only do so much for me. I wanted you back. But… you kept moving on with your life. I got to watch from the sidelines as you did great things.”
“Just like you said I would.” I breathed.
“Yeah. You proved me right. Thank you. You were doing your own thing and I mine. Still, I loved you more than anyone else in the world. But… we were going different ways and… I almost began to wish that you’d just never come back. And yet here you are.”
“I promised you I would find you. So I did.”
“Yeah, you did. But, uh, the reason I almost wished you’d stay away is because if, if you showed up back into my life like you did today… I’d have to do what I put off for three years now.”
She reached into her bag and produced a small box. She held it like it was the most precious thing in the world, her bashfulness fully bared. I grabbed her hands and held them in mine.
“Sshhh, just stop. It’s fine. Really it is.”
She looked up. “I, uh, you, really, I really want you to-”
“Spitfire.” I said.
“Yes?” She whispered.
“Shut up. Believe me, I get it, I got it. But, uh, it’s been six years since we’ve seen each other, uh, don’t you think we should catch up at least? I mean… don’t misunderstand me here. I am… flattered beyond all belief you would do something like this but… it’s been a goddamned long time.”
“Oh, uh, um, alright. I see, you uh, yeah, I’ll just-”
“Keep it.”
She blinked.
“I’m serious. Keep it for later. I haven’t seen exactly what’s inside so… it both is and isn’t. For now, let’s just get back on track for a bit. Because one day, you’ll ask me again, and one day, I’ll give you the gods honest answer I already know I’ll say. But for now… let’s make up for lost time.”
“Um, alright. Sure.” She smiled, her confidence slowly returning to her, her kryptonite gone.
“Sound good?”
“Yeah, sound’s wonderful.” She laughed. “I’d like that very much.”
“So would I.”
I cupped her face in my hands and kissed her in full view of the base. I stopped caring who saw us a long time ago. I was in love with this beautiful woman before me and that was all that mattered.
I leaned back. “Now you’ve given me something to spend my millions on.”
“What?”
“There are a few jewelry stores down the street from my penthouse.”
She scowled. “Oh HELL TO THE FUCK NO you are not! Not after I spent three years just- agh! You’re such an idiot!”
I smiled. “Music to my ears.”
“Fuck off.”
“Music again.”
“You’re lucky you’re cute.”
“Really? I thought you were going to say rich.”
“Fuck off.” She shoved me.
“Oh relax. Just be happy you can go tell your ten year old self her prophecy came true.”
“You-you remember that still?”
“Of course I remember that. I’m a genius. Plus it was a memorable day. Why?”
“Just surprised is all. And I’ll be sure to tell young Spitfire of her successes.”
“And do tell young Campion that he gets the last laugh.”
She grinned a predatory grin. “We’ll see about that.”
I scoped up her pile of letters and carefully refolded them and placed them into my bag.
“So what do military regulations say about relationships with civilian contractors?” I asked.
She smiled. “Absolutely nothing. Wanna grab lunch? We can catch up for a bit and you can show me your penthouse afterwards.”
“Getting right into it, aren’t we?”
“Hey, I’ve always been curious as to what a few million can buy a person. And out of curiosity, why you’d leave your company to come here?”
“I thought it would be obvious.”
“Please. I need to hear it from you.”
“Fine. I made a promise to a crying girl that I would come back and find her. So I did. I keep my promises.”
“And I’m thankful.” She said leading me out of the hanger. Immediately we bumped into Fleetfoot and Soarin’. Spitfire turned red and immediately scowled at her subordinates.
“Sooo…” Fleetfoot said in her sandpaper scratchy voice.
Soarin’ grinned. “Captain Spitfire’s dating Dr. Campion Stone? Like this is for real?”
“I swear to god,” she gritted her teeth.
“You’re a softie!” Fleetfoot laughed.
“You wanna run a 20k because that be arranged!” She was red now.
“Eh, I don’t mind. Oh and Soarin’ I’ll be expecting my money by the end of the night.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, you’ll get your 100.”
“Fuck you guys.” Spitfire said.
I started laughing. The three pilots looked at me with smiles on their faces as we all shared a laugh at Spitfire’s expense. I elbowed my girlfriend.
“See? Last laugh indeed.”
“Once again, you’re lucky you’re cute.”
“I think I’m gonna like it here. Who says you can’t go home again?”