Breaking Sky

“Bully,” Chase murmured. She relented with a breath big enough to let the truth out fast. “Janice thought it would be easier to get money from my dad if I had his last name. What she didn’t factor in is that after their one-night mambo, he’d all but disappear.” Chase laughed emptily. “When she finally tracked him down and learned who he was…let’s just say she spat a few choice four-letter words.”

 

 

Chase debated telling Ritz about the look on Janice’s face when she had watched Tourn on TV, confirming to the whole world that he had dropped the nuclear bomb on the Philippines.

 

“Tell me about your father,” Ritz said.

 

“Nothing to tell. I knew him for one summer when I was twelve, and I haven’t seen him since. It was his decision to change my last name to my mother’s, and it was the best parenting move he ever made.”

 

“Because your father has a reputation.” Ritz clicked her pen. “He wanted to help you avoid that.”

 

“Crackers, I have a reputation. My father has a body count.”

 

“Interesting.” She lifted her fine wire glasses to the top of her head. “Let’s talk about your reputation.”

 

Chase’s seat was still warm from Tanner’s butt. “Tanner was complaining?”

 

“What is it you think he might be complaining about?”

 

“I used to like him. I changed my mind. He didn’t take it so well.” Chase crossed her legs. Uncrossed them. Folded them beneath her.

 

“And this has happened with several other boys. At least four I’m aware of.”

 

“Don’t forget the girl,” Chase half-joked. “Curiosity and all.” Ritz’s frown bent severely, and Chase felt the demarcation line of dangerous territory. “Are you patterning my love life?”

 

“Do you see a pattern?” Ritz asked. Chase had admitted that much to Tristan, but like hell would she give Ritz the same clearance level. She played with the front point of her hair while the psychiatrist continued. “Have you felt any deep connection to the boys—the people you’ve become intimate with?”

 

Chase cringed. Intimate was the word adults used to make her feel guilty. “I say, ‘kiss me.’ They kiss me. It’s that deep. And I only kiss, no matter what Riot says. I’m no skank.” Crackers’s face went canvas at the word. “I get a little skin to scatter heavy thoughts and—” She cut herself off.

 

“So it’s about escape,” Ritz said, and Chase hated how close she’d flown to the mark. “And you feel guilty about hurting these boys. That’s good. That’s the burden of caring.”

 

Chase opened her mouth to say that she couldn’t care less, but that’s not what came out.

 

“I’m careless.”

 

“With whom you date?”

 

Chase really didn’t want to talk about this, but she was cornered now. “I don’t date. I sidle up to someone. Wait to see if they like me. Then when I don’t feel the same, I go my own way. That’s normal teenage stuff.”

 

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.”

 

Cori McCarthy's books