Mars

by Jasmine Rose

  I shake my head. “It hides your hair.”

  “You’re right. And we all know you love my hair,” he says. So, he takes off the beanie and places it on my hair. He keeps on tucking in wild strands of my hair into it and I just stare at him.

  “You look beautiful,” he says.

  “It’s because of the beanie, isn’t it?” I smile and touch my head. He nods.

  “Without the beanie, you looked horrifying! If you were in the Monsters. Inc movie, the monsters would run away from you and hide behind the kids,” he backs away from me.

  My pace quickens and so does his. Soon enough, he is running from me. I run after him, but he stops. He puts his hands on his knees and leans against a wall.

  “Oh God, you okay?” I ask, bending down so I can see his face. He is panting and his eyes are closed. He nods and after a few seconds, he opens his eyes.

  “I’m a grandpa now. I’m old! I get tired of everything,” he exclaims, wiping a fake tear off his eye. “Hey, little girl, can you be my crutch?”

  “Of course, old man!” I get closer to him and he loops his arm into mine.

  Suddenly, he kisses my cheek. I gasp and touch my cheek. I feel like there’s a fire on my face.

  “Payback,” he winks. “You thought you could kiss me on the cheek and you wouldn’t get one back? Next time, of course, when you kiss me on the mouth, the favor will be repaid several times.”

  I hit his chest lightly. “We are not going to kiss, shut up.”

  “Really?” He stops.

  He pushes me against the wall and brings his face so close to mine I can smell the mint on his breath. Our noses are touching and I have to remind myself to breathe.

  “Are you still sure?”

  I don’t know what to say.

  Just kiss me, pleasepleaseplease.

  He pulls his face away and starts to laugh. Hysterically.

  “I knew you wanted to kiss me!” he says, glowing. “I knew it!”

  I knew that even New York’s lights at night were no match for the light that Logan had in his expression.

  17

  Two is better than one

  Ella clutches her stomach and struggles to breathe. “A—and then he fell! He tripped on his own shoes! In front of dad’s boss!”

  “Ellaaaaa, please stop,” whines Logan for what seems like the thousandth time. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  I wave him off, laughing myself. “It’s funny.”

  Ella keeps on making jokes about Logan and telling me funny stories for what seems like a lifetime. Even if he is annoyed, he chimes in to correct some details and he laughs at himself sometimes.

  Someone knocks on the door and Ella stands up to open it.

  “Mom’s probably here to—oh. Hi, do I know you?” She says, but I can’t see who it is.

  “I’m looking for my daughter, is she here? It’s Amy.”

  I recognize my dad’s voice and jump out of the chair. I rush to the door and look at him with wide eyes. Indeed, he is standing there, looking worried. He hasn’t changed out of his work suit yet, which meant he came here right after work.

  I am supposed to be at Jenna’s, studying for a science test. Not here, with my sick… friend and his sister.

  Logan coughs. "Who's Amy? We only have an Amaryllis in the room," he says. I glare at him and turn back to my dad.

  “Dad,” I say, not knowing how to greet the situation. Lying is out of the choices. I can’t bring myself to be dishonest with him this time.

  “Amy?! Aren’t you supposed to be with Jenna? Who is this?” He is talking in a low voice, but he is angry. He steps into the room, analyzing it.

  “Why are you here?” he asks. “Who is she?”

  “I’m here for my friend, Logan. He has cancer, Dad.”

  My father’s expression softens for a second. His uncle passed away from cancer, so it was a soft spot for him. “That's him?" He points to Logan.

  “Present!” says Logan, smiling.

  My dad walks over to him and looks at him with a hard look that I know he only puts up for appearances. When he met Ethan, two years ago, he had the same expression on, but he ended up loving him.

  “Harold Wolfe, Amaryllis’ father,” he says, putting his hand out. Dad never uses my full name except when he’s introducing me to someone or when he’s trying to be formal and strict.

  Logan puts his hand in Dad’s and shakes it. “Logan Thomas Masterson, Amaryllis’ boyfriend.”

  Visibly, my dad’s grip on Logan’s hand hardens and he lets go. “Boyfriend?”

  “NO!” I cry out. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  Logan feigns to wipe a tear on his cheek. I am going to deal with him later.

  “He just, um, he’s being delusional sometimes,” I say, pulling my dad and signaling cuckoo/crazy with my hand.

  “Ah.”

  Ah? What is that supposed to mean? Is that the last word I hear before I get murdered by my own dad?

  “Yeah,” I sigh.

  “We need to talk,” says Dad. “Let’s go.”

  I nod, putting my face down. “I’ll be out in a second.”

  He leaves.

  Silently, I pick up the homework on Logan’s bed and stuff what’s mine in my bag. Logan holds my wrist.

  “Did you just call me crazy?”

  I roll my eyes and turn away from him. Taking a book out of my bag, I give it to him. He looks at the title and raises an eyebrow.

  “Divergent?”

  I nod. “It’s amazing. You’ll be done with it sooner than you think.”

  “I trust your judgment,” he says, setting it on the night table.

  Lately, Logan would complain about being bored of staying at the hospital and doing nothing all day. So, he asked me to bring him books to read.

  I hug Ella and mumble an excuse. Opening the door to leave, a voice stops me.

  “Amaryllis?”

  He makes me look at him again.

  “If I’m crazy for loving you, then so be it,” says Logan, giving me a very handsome half-smile.

  18

  Stay with me

  "He seldom smiles with his lips, but it is his eyes that shine instead,

  and it is this radiance that makes every man and woman who sees it

  feel the irresistible impulse to smile, too."

  Francesca Milton

  “So, what are your intentions with my daughter?” asks Dad, taking a bite of the ravioli he ordered an hour ago. Logan swallows whatever he has in his mouth.

  “Completely pure, sir. Once I make her fall in love with me, which I think is happening, I intend to make her my girlfriend,” he answers.

  Jenna’s eyes and mine go wide at that. I kick him under the table roughly, but Jenna squeals in pain and glares at me.

  Dad looks calm. “And why, pray tell, do you want to make her your girlfriend?”

  “I don’t want to die alone,” is Logan’s reply. “I want to be loved.” He answered this more confidently than any of the other questions. He looks at me with a sparkle in his eyes that, if I weren’t in public, would make my knees go weak.

  We are sitting in our little dining room, on the small table my dad and I use. There are four chairs, which is enough for Jenna, Dad, Logan and me.

  The day Dad found out my secret, he had a long conversation with me about lying and being untrustworthy. He told me that it would take him a little while to trust me again. He was taking my laptop away, and the fate of my phone was yet to be decided.

  He decided to invite Logan to dinner, which to him would determine my punishment.

  Logan is wearing the same beanie again. After the first three chemo sessions, his hair is missing patches in several places. He makes jokes about being bald all the time now. He’s wearing a nice gray sweater that matches his eyes.

  He told me he wanted to impress his girlfriend’s dad.

  Although I would never actually admit it, all the girlfriend talk made me all gooey inside. His semi-con
fession the other day in the hospital didn’t exactly go unnoticed by me.

  “So, do you like rugby?” asks Logan, knowing exactly what to say to bait my dad into loving him. These are my instructions to him, of course.

  “Heck yeah!” exclaims my dad, grinning as if he was talking to one of his old buddies. Ethan never was interested in rugby; he was more of the occasional soccer/basketball kind. So, he never got along with Dad as well as Logan is right now.

  Logan smiles. “So, are you watching the game between Wales and USA this Sunday?

  “Obviously! Do you have a TV in your room?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Dad nodded. “Then we’ll watch the finals this Sunday, together. I bet you five bucks USA will win.”

  “Oh, come on! I’m betting for USA, too. You can’t get money out of a teenager! It’s illegal!” says Logan. After a moment of silence, he grins. “Never mind, I’m betting for Wales, too.”

  Once Dad turns away, Logan turns to me and wiggles his eyebrows once. I was betting that he would get his semi-bald head chopped off after he came here, but he bet that my dad would love him. What was the bet based on? A hug. A proper hug.

  Technically, Logan is breaking a shitload of rules to be here. He is exhausted, but he promised to be here.

  Logan whispers: “You’ll help me make a Wales flag later.”

  The dinner and dessert are soon eaten. After a few jokes, Logan has my dad wrapped around his finger. Jenna is obviously enjoying all of this because she is the apparent biggest shipper of Amagan, which is mine and Logan’s “ship name” as she calls it.

  Jenna leaves and Logan is at the door. He shakes Dad’s hand again and gives him a polite smile.

  “I’ll see you on Sunday?” he says.

  Dad nods. “Of course.”

  There is a small awkward silence as I signaled my dad to leave, so I can say my proper goodbyes. Logan is just standing there, with the corners of his lips slightly up.

  “Oh! Alright, Goodnight,” he walks away. I shut the door behind me.

  I breathe a sigh of relief and laugh.

  “You actually managed to charm my dad! You have superpowers!”

  Logan flips imaginary hair. “I’m fabulous,” he says in a ridiculously high voice.

  “Yes, you are!” I laugh again and look at him.

  He stretches his arms out for me and smiles. “Time for my hug.”

  “Fine,” I say. “Neck or waist?” Debating on the way I should hug him out loud.

  “Abs, so I can feel like I make you safe and that you’re tiny.”

  I let out a small chuckle and oblige. I wrap my arms around his waist? Or abs? I’m not even sure if he has one.

  But he is right, indeed I feel safe.

  Logan is like a field of roses, which only grow during spring. He is enough to make me smile and he is the only place I can identify as another home. He is warm, everything about him is.

  He is that one song you listen to over and over and you never get bored of. He walks like sunshine. He is a drug and I fear I’ve become addicted.

  Since he is tall and I am a few inches shorter than him, the way I hug him makes me listen to his heart beat.

  “Logan?”

  “Hm?” His face is buried in my hair.

  “You should go. This hug lasted too long.”

  “No.”

  I try to pull away, but his arms are like rock around my shoulders.

  “Logan?”

  “Hm?”

  “Please let go of me.”

  He smells like mint and hospitals.

  “I never want to let go,” he says quietly.

  Neither do I.

  “Please don’t let go. You make me happy,” he says. His heart pace quickens, I feel it.

  “Logan—"

  He pulls away just enough for me to be an inch or two away from his face. There are tear streaks on his cheek. They glisten, looking silver. His eyes are beautiful. They seem to have mixed with a pale blue in this light.

  “Amaryllis?”

  “Hm?”

  “I lo—like you as much as a fat kid likes cake.”

  “I like cake,” I say. “I have the spirit of a fat kid too. So, I like you as much as I like cake.”

  He smiles and lets me go. “Your dad is probably preparing his gun. Go inside.”

  “Okay.”

  “Cool.”

  “Oooookay.” I say again, waiting for him to leave.

  “Right. Bye,” he says.

  I lo—like you as much as a fat kid likes cake.

  That sentence is repeated in my mind a thousand time.

  19

  You’re like perfection

  “USA sucks! They suck so bad!” screams Logan, coughing after that. Everyone, Ryan, Jenna, Dad, Logan’s parents, Ella and I, turn to him in fear. He holds his hands up. “It’s all good.”

  Jane rubs his back and pets his beanie. “Take it easy, baby.”

  “Son, sorry to burst your bubble, but Wales is going to lose,” says Dad, standing up.

  “I agree!” says Jenna and Ryan nods in agreement. Logan’s family continues arguing with the USA lovers, for what seems like the millionth time today.

  We are all sitting in Logan’s private room, watching the match on the hospital TV.

  “What about you, Amaryllis? Who are you rooting for?” says Logan, silencing everyone else.

  I have to make a choice: Dad or Logan.

  “…I’ve been silently rooting for USA?” I say, mentally apologizing to Logan. His face falls and he pouts.

  Dad ruffles my head roughly. “That’s my girl!”

  “Does anyone want to head down for food?” says Jenna, rubbing on her stomach. This girl is never hungry, but when she is, every plate in the world wouldn’t be able to satisfy her appetite.

  Several hands go up and murmurs of agreement are heard. So, they all go out and make me promise to call one of them before the second half begins.

  Jenna pauses at the door and gives me a smile. “Have fun. Logan, do you want anything?”

  “Nope, I got my dinner,” he says, pointing at the tube going through his nose.

  Chemotherapy causes loss of appetite, so we’ve discovered that Logan is incapable of keeping any food down. The doctors inserted a nasogastric tube, which basically gives him all the nutrition he needs.

  Before I realize it, Logan and I are alone. He is still pouting at me. When I say his name, he turns away.

  “Oh, come on! Seriously?” I whine.

  He just nods. “You betrayed me.”

  “It was you or my dad, the man who gave me half of my genes.”

  “Too bad.”

  I groan. “Stop being mad at me.”

  “Make me,” he says, smiling at me. He scoots over closer; I go further away from him on the bed.

  Knowing him, he is probably going to make me do something silly like kiss his cheek or say he is awesome.

  He points to his cheek.

  “No.”

  His face falls. “Why?”

  “You’ll turn at the last second, I know it.”

  “I thought you wanted to kiss me,” he says.

  “I—” I gulp.

  “Fine, I’ll forgive you if you let me kiss your cheek.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Is there anything else I can do to get your oh-so precious forgiveness?”

  He shakes his head.

  I sigh. “Fine.” He ushers for me to come closer; because his tube is attached to a machine, it stops him from coming to me.

  I feel like time has gone slower and as Logan approaches my cheek, I do the most insane thing at the last millisecond.

  I turn my head and close my eyes.

  20

  Somebody to love

  My mom used to tell me that when I found true love, I should hold on to it and never let go. When I asked how I’ll know if I’m in love, she told me that I’ll feel like the clouds have taken me to embrace and the world will never let me fall
.