You’re taking Mars

When Mars told you to “prepare to be picked up”, you weren’t sure what to expect. Was that a pick-up line? Was a pick-up line supposed to be that blunt? But then, you remembered that you were going to a drive-in theater together, so you were definitely reading too much into it. But then, you realized that she was going to come pick you up in a car, and that got you worrying.

A car can tell you a lot about a person’s personality. For example, what if Mars drove an Audi… or worse, a BMW? You physically recoiled, shaking your head. No, that couldn’t be. You shoved the horrifying thought away, straight away. Some thoughts should not even be entertained.

So when a patched up pastel yellow Volkswagen Beetle pulls up to the side of the road, complete with Mars smiling and waving at you, the oddest sense of relief bubbles up inside of you. She’s not an asshole! Then, you notice her. Mars is wearing a cute white top and a longline cardigan over it, showing a tantalizing amount of skin. The oversized cardigan looks as if it might slip off at any moment, while her skinny jeans hug her curves tight, showing off her toned ass. Shit, did she catch you staring?

“What’s with the look?” she asks, obviously unaware of the multitude of thoughts that just passed inside your head.

“Um… nothing,” you say, unconvincingly, as you get into the car. Mars gives you the side-eye, so you follow up with: “It’s a cool car, that’s all.”

“It’s a hand-me-down from my dad,” Mars laughs. “He’s a pretty crappy driver. That’s why it’s so banged up. There’s no telling how many times it’s been to the mechanic’s. I’m surprised it still starts, frankly. But it’ll do the trick for tonight.”

“So this bad boy’s got some history to it,” you say, patting the sides of the vehicle affectionately.

“I mean, we’ve all got some history,” Mars laughs. “It’s just a little more obvious with this guy.”

“Do we though?” you ask. “I haven’t been around for five decades.”

“First of all, this car’s only four decades old,” she says, faux accusingly. “And second, that’s got to be a lie. No history? You? Really? No exes?”

You bite your tongue, cutting off the response that springs to mind. You’re not supposed to talk about an ex on a date. But are you on a date with Mars? Or is she just a good friend? You can talk about exes with your friends. But then the fact that Mars brought it up… does that mean thinks of you as…a friend?

“You good, Alex?” Mars asks, shooting you a concerned look. She rests a hand on your arm, steering with her other one. “Bad memories? Sorry, forget I asked, this isn’t the way I wanted the night to go…”

“Oh shit, no, you’re good,” you say, throwing her a reassuring smile. “I’m just… overthinking things a bit tonight.”

“Just go with the flow,” she laughs. “We’re out tonight to have fun. We can talk about other things if you like—how’s the weekend looking?”

“Nah, I can talk about exes. You already know what I’m up to this weekend anyways. We’ve got our first away game in Philly.”

“Who could forget, UFranklin,” Mars says, rolling her eyes. “So okay, exes. You’ve got my interest. Now give me the tea.”

“Only if you promise to tell me yours,” you say.

Mars takes a second to respond, and this time it’s your turn to worry if you’ve hit a raw nerve, but she’s just finding a spot to park for the movie, and just in time, too—the opening scene has started to roll.

“I’ve got a couple of horror stories,” Mars laughs, talking over the movie. She picked a spot in the back, almost too far to see the screen, and the audio, too, is barely audible. A good sign? “But you go first. I want to hear about ‘em.”

“I think I technically had a girlfriend in middle school,” you say, “because we confessed feelings for each other and held hands and kissed a couple times. But you know how ‘relationships’ go when you’re that old. There one week and then gone the next, and nobody can remember why the week after.”

“So you don’t think of that one as real?” she asks.

“Well, you see… that’s where it starts to get messy,” you say, and Mars raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “I honestly don’t remember why we ‘broke-up’ the first time. But whatever the reason, by the time high school rolled around, I still had a massive crush on her. And I guess the feeling was mutual, because we started going out again. After a… crazy dare at a party.”

“That’s a no-no,” Mars says, shaking her head.

You crack a grin, agreeing. “Sometimes the head and heart know what the… the little guy doesn’t.”

“Ah, so it was that kind of crush,” Mars smiles.

“Yeah… we um… did things the second time around that we didn’t the first time,” you say. “Which was cool. But then she started doing it with three other guys in the school… and that was… yeah. Shitty.”

“Oh nooo,” Mars says, covering her mouth with her hand. She gives your arm a squeeze. “That sucks, dude. That really sucks. And she’s such a piece of shit. Fuck, I hope you dumped her ass immediately.”

“Maybe I should have. But this was messy,” you say, scrunching up your face. “She said she was still figuring out what she wanted. And I mean, we were in high school, so I thought that made sense. So I rolled with it, and we didn’t break up. Not for a while, at least.”

“Wait, what? What does rolling with it mean?”

“She wanted an open relationship,” you say. “I… thought that could be fun? And that it would take the sting out of the cheating. Which to be honest, it did. So that was nice.”

“Sounds fun,” Mars says drily.

“It was, for the first little bit,” you say. “Then it kinda went downhill. Whenever I wanted to spend time with her, she was always busy with somebody else. What started off as a relationship kind of just ended up fizzling into… nothing? Eventually, she just kinda ignored me. Like I was nothing. And this is going to sound strange, but that kinda sucked more than the cheating.”

“Wow, that girl sounds…” Mars frowns, trying to find the right words. “You know, I was going to be polite, but she sounds like a straight-up bitch.”

“We don’t talk anymore,” you nod. “Anyways, it took me a bit, but I did get over her. I just needed a bit of help from some friends.”

“Well, glad to hear that you’re not still hung-up on your middle school girlfriend,” Mars says, giving you a friendly poke.

You snort and poke her back.

“You still want to hear about the next one?”

“I’m kinda dreading it, but yes, tell me,” she says. “Give me all the gory details.”

“Okay, this next one… well I’ve only had two girlfriends, so this is the other one. She was better,” you say. “Kirsten was one of those friends that helped me get over that first ex. It happened pretty naturally. We went from hanging out to making out… and before you know it, we were dating.”

“Okay, so a rebound kinda situation,” Mars says.

“Eh, not exactly,” you say. “Rebound makes it sound like I got with her immediately. But this happened over the course of, like, a year.”

“Alright, so only half a rebound,” she replies. “Is that how it went wrong?”

“That’s the funny thing, it didn’t go wrong, not really,” you say. “We just… kinda got to the end of senior year in high school, realized that we were going our separate ways, and decided to call it there. No hard feelings.”

“Wow, just cold turkey quit it like that?” she says, arching an eyebrow. “Never saw her again too?”

“We still talk from time to time,” you say. “But we agreed not to see each other over the summer. To get a clean break, you know. Except…” You drift off, suddenly unsure of whether to continue or not. But looking at Mars’ expectant face, you know you ought to tell her at least this much.

“Except?” she asks.

“Except she’ll be coming to visit in two weeks,” you say. “With the Schmarvard team, our home game.”

“Oh.” Mars says. Her hand, still on your arm, suddenly tightens a fraction. “So you’re telling me there’s competition.”

“We’re not a thing anymore,” you quickly say. “She’s just a friend now.”

But with that last exchange, you feel your pulse quickening, because all of a sudden, what you’ve been wondering has been confirmed. Mars is interested in you. You swallow, coming to terms with that fact, while she seems to have a similar reaction.

“Okay, well, that’s good to know,” she replies, also a little too quickly. “I… I suppose it’s my turn to share now?”

“Yeah,” you laugh nervously, “I suppose it is. Now that I’ve shown you all the skeletons in my closet…”

“Only fair that it’s my turn,” Mars agrees. “Settle in. It’s going to be a long ride.”

Mars +10