Breaking Sky(43)

The psychiatrist grimaced. “There is no normal when it comes to teenagers. That’s what I’ve learned working here.”

Chase rubbed her face and switched tactics. “You know what I need? Speed.” Ritz’s eyes got huge. “Not drugs, Crackers. I need to get up in the air. It…centers me. I haven’t been skyward since the Canadians party-crashed.”

“We should talk about this new addition to the academy. How do you feel about them?”

“I feel like they’re here,” Chase said. “And I feel bad they lost their academy. If that happened to me…”

Ritz seemed pleased. “The makeup of this school is very much like a family, and the introduction of this team changes things. Like when a parent remarries or has another child.”

“Might want to choose a different metaphor,” Chase said. “I don’t have parents.”

The psychiatrist squinted at Chase’s file. “You do have parents. Your mother—”

“Oh no. Janice is a mother, but she’s no parent. One of the first times I came in here, you said, ‘You give birth to become a mother, but you have to raise a person to become a parent.’” It had been one of the things that made Chase want to trust Dr. Ritz. Badmouthing Janice was the fastest way to Chase’s heart.

“You listened to me?” Crackers looked entirely too touched.

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? I don’t have parents. I have the Star. Kale. Dragon.” Pippin. For whatever reason, her RIO’s name stuck in her throat.

“Have you thought about what the Star will be like after the trials?” Ritz asked. Chase stared as the doctor continued. “If the Streaker project fails, the jets will be scrapped and you will fly the older models.”

Chase closed her eyes. The older fighters sucked. “The Streakers aren’t going to fail.” They had to pass. They had as much to prove as Chase did. It was one of the reasons she loved her prototype jet so much.

Ritz continued. “If they pass, there will be dozens of Streaker pilots. You’ll be one of many. Of a fleet. Have you thought about that?”

Chase scowled big-time, turning over a new question. Would Kale still care about her when there were dozens of Streaker pilots? Would he still find her antics clever? Not likely.

“Let’s switch gears.” Ritz produced a piece of paper and drew a shape. “This is the heart’s circle.”

“Is it made by leprechauns?” Chase asked. Ritz gave her a cool eye and pointed to the drawing. It reminded Chase of an engine—a gaping hole that stole wind and spat scorching vapor in its wake. “I stopped putting stock in love when I was a kid, Ritz.”


“Think of it as a trust circle then. Ask yourself: ‘Who is in my circle? Who is close and important to me? Who do I trust with my secrets?’ Write these people in, and I promise you’ll realize that those you don’t seem connected to are already central in your life.”

Chase surprised herself by being angry. No. Furious. “That is the craziest thing you’ve ever said, Crackers! You think I should write down some names and people will magically matter to me? I do know how to care, you know. I care about flying. About the trials. If I don’t win, they’ll scrap Dragon, so believe me, I care.”

Dr. Ritz was quiet for a long moment. “Your flying is not a matter of winning or losing. I keep having this conversation with Leah Grenadine—you teenagers need to put everything in terms of competition. These trials are about improving national security, Chase Harcourt. They’re for the future of the Air Force.”

Chase rubbed her neck. “Never pegged you as a patriot, Crackers.” The woman gave Chase a sharp look. “I mean, Doctor.”

“Keeping your eye on the real ball might be what you need. Especially if you can’t see what’s festering at your core.”

Chase winced. That sounded graphic. “Right. I’ll keep doing what I always do. Talk about a freakin’ circle.” She didn’t wait to be dismissed. She headed toward the Green, taking a few minutes in one of the glass tunnels that connected all the buildings at the Star.

High above, the yellow-green northern lights writhed against a black sky. Chase blew hot breath on the glass and drew a circle in the fog. Then she wrote Pippin in its center.

It didn’t work.

It didn’t make her realize that she trusted him. That he was “central in her life.” It only reminded her of his distant-blank expression—and his recent demand for space.

Chase smeared the circle and name away a little too forcefully, making the glass wobble in protest. If she were being honest with herself, these days Pippin felt more like a stranger than her best friend.





21


    PLAYMATES


   Friends for the Mission


Chase strode into the hangar with her helmet under her arm, all but jumping to get into the air. The rest of the Streaker teams were standing before the brigadier general, and she fell in line with nothing more than an annoyed look from Sylph.

Kale touched Phoenix’s wing while he spoke. “The original plan was to have the American Streaker teams dogfight with Phoenix. The Canadian pilots had the advantage of having studied Harcourt and Grenadine’s flying patterns. Should the Streakers pass the military trials, it will only be a matter of time before the New Eastern Bloc either steals or duplicates the technology. We need to understand how the jets perform against similar machines.”