𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

↳ 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭
'prologue'

━━ 𓄼 𓄹 ━━

SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA, 2002

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 of them was empty. Sky near cloudless, the day hung with the fragrance of sage in the sunlight.

Getting her drivers license had been a long time coming. She had watched her oldest brother Max receive his, and then his subsequent refusal to drive her anywhere. When her brother Gabe's turn came around, her parents forced him to at least drive her to soccer practice. Now the keys were finally in Cameron's hands.

And it was potentially the most dangerous thing to happen to San Diego county.

In her periphery, she could see her passenger holding on to the door handle with a white knuckled grip. "You don't have to hold onto the door," she reminded him, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. "It won't fly off if you let go."

Miffed, Bradley moved a cautious arm to balance on the edge of the open window. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't tell me you're scared of my driving."

"I'm scared of anyone who thinks that the speed limit is ninety miles an hour."

The speedometer was topping out at seventy-seven, and she made no move to ease off the gas. She grinned at him, completely turning her head. "There's no speed limit out here, not one that's enforced."

He put a hand on her cheek and shoved her head back to face the road. "You don't need to look at someone while they're talking to you, this is how accidents happen."

"It's a habit."

"A bad one. You just started driving, you're gonna break the record for shortest time with a license. I can see it now." He held out his hands in front of him in imitation of a news headline, laughing. "Two sixteen year olds accidentally launch truck off a cliff."

The road curved, hugging a rock face that rose to twice the height of the truck. Finally, they were out in the open desert, nothing on both sides except wide plains and the distant peaks of cliff sides.

Finally giving in to the roar of the engine, he stuck his head out the window and yelled into the wind. Leaning there with his blond wavy hair flying wild, he looked like a golden retriever out for a joyride.

A plane floated into her periphery.  No more than a yellow blot against the blue sky.  Cam gripped the steering wheel tighter, pulling her body forward so her head hovered over the dashboard. It was a civilian plane coming in quick, dipping as low as it possibly could over the dusty road. The perfect opportunity.

"Another Cessna," Brad said, head still out the window as he pointed. Wind ruffled through his striped t-shirt and his green eyes glowed with sunlight. "Must've just taken off."

"Let's follow it."

"Follow it?" He brought his head back into the vehicle. "Unless this rusted piece of shit has wings–"

Cam pushed the gas pedal to the floor before he could get another word out of his mouth.

It shoved him backwards in the seat, smacking his head into the headrest. "Cam, slow it down!"

She laughed, letting the wind chase the sound of her voice. "There's no one for miles."

"Look, the plane isn't even staying over the road, it's a lost cause!" he yelled desperately.

With one hand she yanked on the steering wheel, sending them straight off the road and onto the desert soil. It crunched under the merciless weight of their tires, rocks and sand flying up behind them.

"We are literally going to die!" he yelled, voice pitching close to a scream.

"No one is going to die!" she shouted back. He made a grab for the wheel but she shoved his arm away.

The yellow Cessna was close now. Putting the truck in park and yanking the keys from the ignition, she slammed the door shut against the sound of Brad's protests. Camera in hand, her heart raced as the plane came in for another pass. The digital camera was top of the line, all of the extra savings she had from working summer jobs the last two years. All worth it for this moment.

The roar of the engines was deafening as it cut over head. As if the pilot knew what she was looking for, the plane drifted right into her viewfinder. As she clicked the camera shutter, though, a different desire bloomed in her chest, unfurling into the wide open blue sky.

For the first time in her life, she understood.

All the times she had flown with her dad in his own civilian craft, the times she had watched his plane take off, she had believed she knew his heart. The heart that was never able to stay rooted on the ground. Head in the stars, feet in the clouds, her mom always laughed.

But Cameron understood it all now. The desire that dragged her skywards, pulling her away from the ground. Carried up completely into the wind. Insignificant in the face of such an expanse.

Brad too was leaning against the truck door enraptured by the sight of it. It took off at a shallow climb, up and away and into the distance.

For a spare moment, Cameron felt alone in the desert. Eyes closed, the wind tugged at her hair, floated through her heart like an arrow.  The dust that rolled at her feet was at her command, the entire world waiting for her words.  The brown eyes and freckle dusted cheeks of a girl who knew what she wanted: to fly.

When she made her way back to the truck and tried to turn the key, her heart plummeted back to earth. The truck gave a non committal whir before clunking out again. "Oh no."

"Oh no?" Brad said, shoving away her arm so he could see. "Don't tell me the battery died."

There was no noise left except the distant sound of the Cessna in the sky.  It sounded like it was mocking her now.

"Then I won't tell you."

He just looked at her. "I just want the record to say that I totally called this."

"You said we were gonna die," she reminded him. "Not that the battery would die."

"Same thing."

Their only hope would be if someone came down the road. Fifteen minutes went by without a car in sight, and the sun was starting to burn her exposed neck.

Brad stood on the roof of the car.  His arms crossed and looking very imposing while he waited. Cam backed up from the truck and lifted the lens to her eye, framing him against the desert backdrop.

"We're gonna be dust in the desert and you're taking pictures at a time like this?" he huffed.

She pressed the shutter. "Chill out, it's going to be fine."

"I am sweating," he told her, grabbing the collar of his t-shirt for emphasis. "I cannot just chill out."

She heard it before she saw it. The mechanical echo of a motor. "Hey, look!"

It was a motorcycle roaring up the road towards them. Brad started waving his arms to get the rider's attention. Cam joined him, hopping up on the hood too.

Peeling off the road, the rider came to their rescue. The red striped Kawasaki looked distantly familiar as it came into focus. When her mind registered the form of who was riding it, she recognized him instantly. Beat up jacket and all.

She had spoken to him a dozen times over the years. The story went that Maverick had flown with Bradley's dad in the Navy, close friends with his parents to both of their bitter ends. When Bradley had come to live with his aunt and uncle after his mom passed away, Maverick had stayed close. More of a distant uncle than a father figure.

Pete Mitchell pushed his aviators to the end of his nose as his engine came to a halt. "What the hell are you two doing out here?"

"Oh, you know," Bradley said, looking down at him. "Just out for a ride."

To her relief, Pete only laughed. Of all the people who could've found them, he would be the most understanding.  Her parents was going to kill her later, but that was still a distant worry.  "Out of gas?"

"Battery died," Cam corrected.

He swung his legs off the bike.  "Then its a solvable problem."

"Though I wouldn't be surprised if we were out of gas, too," Bradley said with a shit-eating grin, sliding off the roof before she could push him.

Pete lifted the hood. "Let's see if we can't get this old thing moving again."

𓄼 𓄹

SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA, 2004

𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊, and the years pass.

College, a thing that had sat waiting in her periphery, now stood full force in front of Cameron Mejia's face. She had dragged her heels, visited campuses she knew she wouldn't like, written countless essays and clutched tear-stained rejection letters in her hands. All to find the engineering program of her dreams, and then something more.

The second thing was a side project that had just become very, very real. The scholarship letter still felt hot from baking in a mailbox all afternoon, and she had to set it on the table to keep it away from her sweaty palms. A scholarship for the Navy Reserve Officers' Training Corps, a compromise she had struck with her parents. Cam would attend college with the intent of enlisting upon yet another far-off graduation.

She had her final interview two weeks ago. After sitting in the uncomfortable chair with the officer staring her down and speaking in his monotone voice, she thought she had blown it for sure. But this letter proved her wrong in the best way.

She hadn't told anyone yet. Not Max and Gabe, not even Bradley.

But now that she had the final thing that cemented this as her new reality, she tore out the door with her beat up tennis shoes barely tied.

She passed her dad's car in the driveway, almost running into him as he got out of the driver's side. He sucked in a sharp breath. "Ay mija, cuidado!"

"Lo siento!" The words blurred together into an unintelligible noise.

The cement road to the Bradshaw's had never felt longer as she ran up the steep incline. Across the lawn and up the stairs, she didn't even knock on the door. It was already unlocked and allowed her to burst through.

She found him alone in the kitchen, sitting at the table and staring at the woodgrain like it was a riveting puzzle. He looked up at the intrusion. "Is your house on fire?"

"Not currently," she said breathlessly. "I have something to tell you."

He gave a sad, pitiful scoff. "Same here."

Tucking the letter in her back pocket, she took the seat across from him. She was about to ask where his aunt and uncle were, but then she remembered it was Wednesday. They would be a road over playing cards with their friends. "You go first, yours seems more depressing."

And it was. Bradley had a letter of his own that he pulled across the table and slid in front of her. "Here."

She skimmed the paper. On behalf of the United States Naval Academy, we regret to inform you–

When she looked up again, she could see the fear in his eyes; his composure had withered into nothing.  The acceptance rate was less than 10%, bad odds were unavoidable. But some part of her had always believed it would be automatic. His dad had flown in the Navy, his godfather was still an infamous, talented pilot. Of all the things that made sense in the world, Bradley getting flat-out rejected was not one of them.

There was only one word left to use, really. "Shit."

He lay his head on the table with a thunk. The back of his neck was still sunburnt from baseball practice. "I hope your news is better than mine," he groaned.

Outside the window, the sun was beginning to sink low. She still had a paper to finish for her literature class and a soccer game to think about tomorrow afternoon. Even with the weight of this, her mind still drifted, searching for purchase amid one hundred worries. Looking for something to use that might make this situation better.

"It's not really important."

Without picking up his head, he muttered, "You ran all the way down the road. If it wasn't important, I'd be concerned about your sanity."

"Here," she said, suddenly nervous as she fished it out of her jean's pocket. "It'll be better if you just read it."

He took the paper in two hands, green eyes scanning it quickly. His expression rose and then fell hard, making her stomach plummet to the wooden floor. She should have lied and made up a story. My mom just wanted me to tell you she made arroz con leche if you want some. Anything would be better than the look on his face now.

Still, she would never find rest if she didn't tell him.  For all the years she had known him, he was always the first person she gave her news to.

"NROTC?" He licked his lips like it had a bitter taste. "Cam, were you just not gonna tell me about this? I didn't know you were even applying."

"I didn't tell anyone besides my parents, I knew people would try to talk me out of it. And if it worked out, I wanted to surprise you," she said hollowly. "Surprise."

Irritated, he tossed it aside. "Well, I guess you can live out my dreams for me."

The paper floated to the floor and she watched it fall, hurt blossoming in her chest like a weed. "You're not the only person in the world who wants to be a pilot.  Don't be such a downer, there's more than enough opportunities–"

"I can't join the NROTC, it's too late. I put all my money on getting into the Naval Academy, and now this. God, this is just fan-fucking-tastic."

"You applied to other colleges, you showed me the applications," she reminded him.

He picked up his head, just looking at her. His expression revealed a hint of embarrassment atop his disappointment.

Her lips parted. "You didn't apply anywhere else." She sucked in a breath, trying to see the situation from all angles. "Okay, so that's also a no-go. But there's schools with rolling admission–"

"Not the Naval Academy."

"Of course, but maybe there's still a chance there. You have a legacy, you could try and use it to your advantage. Can't you ask Maverick if he could–"

His dark eyes crackled like an oncoming storm, mouth pressed in a thin line. "It was Maverick who pulled my application in the first place," Bradley realized. "He never wanted this for me, he's stood in my way the whole time."

"He's the one that's been helping you with your flight hours! If he didn't want you to fly, why would he have helped you get a civilian pilot license?"

"It took me begging to get him to do it," he reminded her. "He's never willing, always cagey."

"Even if that is true, it's only because he feels responsibility for you."

"Because my parents are dead?" he said haughty, folding his arms over his chest and tilting up his chin.

Cam shook her head, exasperated. "Because he's your godfather."

"He'd never help.  Even if he wasn't the one that pulled my application," he seethed. "He's always been selfish. Arrogant. Living for no one but himself in that damn hangar."

"Don't say that now," Cam said, gesturing at the letter in front of him. "Give this time to settle."

She could almost feel the shift in the room, and suddenly she was right in the line of fire. All anger swelled and pointed to her. "That's so easy for you to say now. You've got everything figured out, don't you? A spot at Berkeley, and now an ROTC scholarship. You don't have anything left to worry about."

Her eyes narrowed. All of those things were hard won with sleepless nights and sacrifices. For him to say that now, after he had stood by her through all of it, was worse than him not being there for her at all. Her biggest supporter now the knife in her stomach.

"I'm not letting you pin your pity party on me. I was excited to show you this."

"To gloat, you mean?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" she said as the tears threatened to spill. But she would never cry in front of him. "There are other opportunities to join the Navy, you can still enlist!"

"None that are gonna get me in the seat of a fighter jet!" he lamented. "It'll take years longer now." He was beyond reason now.

"Then maybe it just wasn't meant to be!"

They were both standing now, voices at an unreasonable volume. The table took up the space between them, a distance miles wide.

"Maybe," she breathed, on a dangerous roll that couldn't be stopped. "Maybe you were never meant to be a pilot."

Silence. The two of them locked eyes, staring each other down, daring the other to make the next move. Instead of saying anything further, Bradley turned and left.

The door slammed shut against the sound of crickets in the brush. Dying light of a sunset danced with the tears that rolled down her cheeks. One phrase flew to mind, one she knew would be hard forgotten: No one holds a grudge like Bradley Bradshaw.

━━ 𓄼 𓄹 ━━

a/n woo!! childhood best friends to grudg-ers time!!

so I've taken some *creative* liberties with timelines and when exactly Bradley's mom passed away, something that will be elaborated upon later. I also took the route of assuming that Bradley would have forgiven Maverick for the death of Goose by this point, and it was really the fact that he pulled his application that sealed the deal & made the rift between them occur.  contrary to popular belief one does not have to go to the naval academy to be a fighter pilot, it just fast tracks the process.  in my story, we're assuming that brad was forced to direct enlist 👨‍✈️

this introduction is mostly meant to establish the dynamic of cam&brad when they were teenagers to contrast with future them.  and of course, there's lots of snippets of things about cam (cam the camera girl hah) to introduce our impulsive girl!!  

let me know your thoughts!! feelings!! anythings!! ✈️

--nat