Page 3 of The Upside of Falling
“I have some studying to do.” I’m curt, not in the mood to dick around. I actually kind of wish we didn’t have this little Thanksgiving break. It messes up my flow.
Breaks mean nothing to me.
Cadets count down the days until they get to leave campus. Not me.
Unlike the other cadets, I don’t have a loving family to go home to. I don’t have a sacred childhood bedroom I want to hang out in. And I sure as hell don’t have a loving father to share my experiences with.
Breaks bring out the worst in me, dredging up repressed feelings I’ve tried to bury for countless years.
Graduation is only a few short months away, and it will bring the reprieve I’ve been looking for, the constant go, go, go I need to keep my mind away from the past. I’m looking forward, keeping my head in the game, and accomplishing the one goal I’ve had since I can remember.
Becoming a fighter pilot.
Nothing is going to get in my way. Not my past, not some stupid, meaningless holiday break, and I’m sure as hell not going to be distracted by a party in the mountains.
Stryder sits up on the bed and chucks his apple core into the little trashcan in the corner, anger in his toss. “Bullshit. You don’t have any studying to do that you haven’t already done.”
“I’m not going.”
“Why?” There’s a bite in his tone, frustration from the past three years built up from my constant avoidance of doing anything “fun.” And it’s not from a lack of trying on Stryder’s part.
Putting away the last of my shirts, I shut the dresser drawer and take off my jacket and cap, hanging them in the closet. Leveling with Stryder, I say, “I’m so close, man. I’m so fucking close to graduating, to making it to the next step in my life. I can’t afford any distractions. You see breaks as a time to let loose, to breathe, I get that. But for me, they are a bump in the road on my map to achieving my dreams. I just want to get through these next five days and then get back to classes, get back to routine.”
Always the routine; it’s what keeps me stable, keeps me from slipping up.
Holding up three fingers, Stryder says, “There are three breaks left. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and spring break. Three, Colby. We have no idea what’s going to happen after graduation, where any of us are going to go. Once we throw our caps in the air as the Thunderbirds pass over us, blazing through the fucking sky, our lives are going to change drastically.”
And I can’t fucking wait.
Growing serious, Stryder rubs the back of his neck, strained and irritated by a simple request from his best friend. From the tension in his forearm, the pulse in his jaw, I have a feeling I’m not going to like what he says next. “Colby, you’re my boy, the one guy I survived this military life with, the life I didn’t necessarily want but was forced to have. I’m not sure what life will be like for me after graduation, and fuck, if I don’t make flight school, my life will be a hell of a lot worse. I need this time withyou. These last few months are going to fly by, and before you know it, we’ll go our separate ways. I don’t want to pull the dick card, but I might.”
“The dick card?” I raise an eyebrow in his direction.
He smirks, and the tilt of his lips indicates the dick card is most likely going to change my mind. “I kind of gave you a place to stay so you didn’t have to go home and deal with Ted the Dickhead.”
Yup, he’s pulling the dick card, and with such good timing.
“Damn it,” I mutter under my breath.
“Without me, who knows how many visits you would have had to endure?” He chuckles to himself, knowing he has me backed into a corner. “I’ve never asked you for anything.”
“Not true.”
“Tutoring doesn’t count.” He points his finger at me. “That’s your military duty, to help out a fellow cadet.” Chucking one of my socks at me, he says, “Come on, Colby. For once since you’ve put on that uniform, have a little outside fun with me.”
“And if I don’t?”
Thought goes into his answer, his gaze toward the ceiling. I know the moment he thinks of a good answer, because a shit-eating grin spreads across his face. Christ, this is going to be my downfall.
“If you don’t do it. I’ll tell my dad you want to hear about his ABCs for excellence in the Air Force again.”
Oh fuck.
I’m all about the Air Force and the traditions and heritage, but Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard’s standards for being in the Air Force are mind-numbingly boring, and so is the PowerPoint that goes with it. The first Thanksgiving break I spent with Stryder and his family, Lt. Colonel Sheppard sat us down the first night, propped up the projector screen, and went through a fifty-two-page PowerPoint presentation that we were quizzed about afterward. His reasoning? Trying to keep our minds sharp and knowledgeable.
I’d rather jump out of an airplane without a parachute than sit through another one of his presentations.
Shaking my head, I untuck my shirt. “You’re such an asshole.”
