Mars

by Rose, Jasmine

  We have passed my house by now, but I can't care less. For some reason, there is a force that makes me care about this boy. I run after him and put my hand on his shoulder. The buzz is still there, but the contact feels like it's been made a thousand times.

  "Masterson?"

  He manages a small smile. "Yes, Wolfe?"

  "Would you like to go with me for some coffee?"

  His eyes harden and I wonder what I did wrong.

  "I refuse to accept your pity because I'm dying." And he turns in the other direction.

  "No! I didn't mean it like that, I swear! Masterson--Logan, I-"

  He suddenly turns and I freeze. "No. I don't want to go out with you, just because I'm dying."

  "God, damn it!" I let out a groan of frustration. "I want to go for coffee or hot chocolate or whatever hot beverage there is because you seem interesting! You're not shallow, you have so many thoughts and I want you to let them out! I don't even know what I'm saying, but-" I slow down, "-I know that I want to talk to you."

  A light appears in his eyes. "Fine. To the coffee shop for coffee or hot chocolate or whatever hot beverage there is."

  "You're an idiot," I say, huffing.

  He laughs and I swear I can feel my heart warming up. "So one second I seem interesting and you know you want to talk to me, and the other I'm an idiot? Make up your mind, Amaryllis Wolfe."

  "You're an idiot," I say.

  But this time, I'm smiling for what seems like the first time in such a long time.

  8

  Cold coffee in the morning

  I hold the hot chocolate cup in my hand, grateful for the warmth it's giving me. Logan thanks the cashier as she hands him a bag with two muffins. He walks toward me and sits down. He gives me the chocolate chip muffin and bites down on his own.

  "So, Logan—" I start, not knowing what exactly to say. "Tell me about your family."

  He shrugs. "My parents are happily married, and I have a younger sister named Ella." He looks at me.

  I nod. "That's awesome. I have no siblings. My dad's my only living parent."

  "How'd she die?" he asks, taking a sip of his hot chocolate and grimacing. He touched his lips with his tongue.

  "Car accident."

  He purses his lips. "I'm sorry."

  "Yeah. So, tell me more about—"

  "I was diagnosed with leukemia two years ago. I got into remission a year ago, but in September, they found it again in my system.”

  I look at him, my mouth wide open. "I didn't—" He waves me off.

  "You know that's the only thing you've been thinking about, besides how handsome I look right now."

  I smile a little, but I am shocked at how easily he talks about it. "But, Logan, what about your—"

  "Hair? I haven't taken chemotherapy yet, so it's still at its natural beauty."

  I glare at him. "Are you ever going to let me finish a sentence?"

  "I just did," he says, winking. "Besides, you're too predictable."

  I shake my head at him and properly look at him. He is indeed very handsome, his hair looking free of any products. It seems so soft I have to resist from leaning over and petting his head. His eyes are breathtakingly beautiful, and their color has gotten lighter.

  "Can I ask something?" he says, watching me as I savor my hot beverage.

  I nod. "What's up with that Ethan guy?"

  I cough and struggle with swallowing my drink.

  I give him a skeptical look and realize that for some reason, I feel like I can trust him. "He was my ex."

  He raises an eyebrow. "I thought when you break up with someone, you're not supposed to still have feelings for them."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "He talked about you today and there was something about the way he talked about you."

  It is my turn to raise an eyebrow. "Huh. Well, he knows we can't be together again. He and I already had this talk."

  "Alright then," he pauses and chuckles, "he called you Mars. What's that all about?"

  "It's an old nickname he gave me."

  "Why?"

  I give him a small smile. "He said it was because of the planet name and the chocolate name."

  "Well, I think you don't deserve a nickname."

  "Why?" I ask, feeling a little hurt.

  He smiles at me, and it feels like the cafe got a little lighter. "Because your name is too beautiful to be shortened in any way, Amaryllis."

  I grin. "Do you say that to every girl?"

  "No," he smiles, "only the ones who are nicknamed over planets by their lame ex-boyfriends."

  9

  Give me help, not love

  I smile at Jenna from afar, and Ryan waves at me. I walk to gym class, already dreading the sport played: Volleyball. Holding my gym clothes in one hand, I check my phone for any messages or calls with the other. Logan disappeared from school for two days and anxiety has been eating me up.

  He was different, and I wasn't ashamed to have started caring for him. He is my friend.

  I walk into the gym and change as fast as I can, avoiding the popular girls as much as I can. I dodge the flying arms and the peppy talk and actually survive getting outside to play whatever sport we are playing today.

  "Amy, catch!" I turn just in time to dodge a flying volleyball. I glare at Kayla, the girl who threw the ball at me. She grins at me with an amount of fake sincerity that would make Barbie want to puke.

  "Sorry!" she says, shrugging.

  I take the ball and throw it back to her, giving her a very un-Amaryllis smile.

  "Heads up, Amaryllis!" I instantly duck and prepare myself to give the deadliest stare to whoever said my full name.

  To my complete surprise, Logan is walking my way, grinning like a child who broke the rules. "I'm happy you didn't get hit," he says, picking up the basketball. I keep on looking at him with shock.

  "Where were you for the past two days?"

  He smiles. "Easy, there. We're not even going out yet and you're already being waaaaay too overprotective."

  Yet?

  "Please, I just wanted to know if you were kidnapped by a bunch of serial killers who specialize in boys like you."

  He dribbles the ball and grins. "Boys that are handsome, funny and sweet like me?"

  And sick, I mentally add, my heart clenching just at the thought of it.

  Suddenly, a color is added to his smiling face. A streak of blood streams down from his nose, and his eyes, still fixated on me, becomes blurry and he falls to the ground.

  The basketball stops dribbling.

  10

  Don’t you worry child

  "Oh my God! Oh my God! Help! HELP!" I kneel down next to him and wrap my hand around his wrist. I put my head close to his chest and feel a weak heartbeat. He is breathing, but it is slowing down by the second.

  I am bewildered at the expressions of the morons by my side. They are gaping at him.

  "God, you fucking idiots, go get a DAMN AMBULANCE!" I scream, not realizing that I had cursed loudly, unlike me. They look at me as if I am an alien.

  A figure kneels down by my side, a phone already at his ear, "Hello! Yes, my friend Logan Masterson fainted during class. His nose is bleeding and—" he pauses to put his ear on Logan's chest, "—his heartbeat is present, his breathing is weak."

  He waits for a few seconds, "St. George's High School."

  Someone hands me a tissue and I take it with the hand that's not holding Logan's. It's Jenna. Her eyes are wide in fear. I feel my face and realize that I am crying.

  "Thank you." Ethan concludes the phone call and nods at us all. "They're coming."

  I nod at him. "The-thank you," I manage to get out between miserable sobs. He puts a hand on my shoulder and nods back at me.

  After what seems like forever, an ambulance comes and takes Logan away. My heart breaks even more by every second and I seem to be choking on my sobs.

  "Please, can I go with him?" I manage to say, holding one of the medic’s arms. T
he man glances at my hand and I take it away. He shakes his head at me, "No can do, little girl."

  My lip quivers and I feel every inch of me breaking even more.

  What is even slightly funny about this whole situation is that I didn't even know Logan that well. He is a mystery, which I had decided to reveal, like a recently discovered historical place, waiting for every inch to be discovered. Although, I can't very much do that if he's dying.

  No.

  I refuse to think like this.

  He's going to be okay.

  A hand is holding mine and I look up to see Ethan, with pity written all over his handsome features. His gray eyes resemble a clear sky after rain. My strength is already faltering, but I tug my hand away from his. His face twists for a second and he nods.

  "He's going to be fine, I promise."

  I think about all of the promises this boy has made and broken, but I take a deep breath that feels like surfacing from my head being shoved into an ocean.

  "I don't want to hear any promises from you, you've broken several ones before but how can I know this one won't be forgotten too?" His mouth falls and he stares at me with shock. "Thanks for everything, though." I pat his shoulder and walk over to Jenna.

  My best friend takes me in her arms and there is nothing stopping me from crying. I sob into her shoulder as she holds me tightly. I cry because Logan has cancer, because he is cursed with a disease that weakens him and turns his own body against him. I cry because of all the advertisements I see on television of celebrities visiting little kids who are suffering cancer too. I cry because those kids have gone through so much medication when they've barely lived a few years on Earth. I cry because so many pure souls die because of it.

  I pull away from her embrace; Jenna wipes my tears with the tip of her sleeve. "You think your Dad will be able to let you see him?"

  I consider the possibility and shake my head.

  Jenna gives me a smile similar to the one she wore when we pranked my neighbor when we were ten. "Well, he can't say no to you," she put quotes in the air, "coming to sleepover tonight because we have a big ass project due tomorrow."

  I smile through tears. "God, I love you."

  I enter the hospital, my nostrils taking in the smell of chlorine and various different cleaning detergents. Rushing towards the receptionist, I look at her through my eyelashes to make myself look more innocent.

  "Hi, um, do you know where Logan Masterson might be? He checked in today."'

  The lady raises an eyebrow and looks up form her computer, "and who are you?"

  "Ama—Mars Jones, his girlfriend,” I refuse to give out my real name.

  My hesitation gets her slightly suspicious. I blink several times and sniffle. "Pl-please let me know where he is. I'm so worried about him," I look down to the gold ring in her right hand, "Imagine if someone you loved was brought in because he fainted, while having cancer.”

  Her eyes soften and she nods. "Alright, Ms. Jones, give me a second." She looks him up on the computer and gives me his room number. I restrain myself from running to his room and take fast, long strides. Deep breaths are my best friends right now.

  Approaching his room, I knock three times. There is shuffling behind the door and it opens slightly to reveal a blonde woman in her fifties. Her red-rimmed brown eyes analyze me and there is no spark of recognition in them.

  "Who are you?" She says, pursing her lips.

  "Amy Wolfe, ma'am. I'm Logan's friend, and I've been worried sick about him for the past hours. He fainted in front of me."

  Her expression goes from stone hard to feather pillow soft. She sticks her hand out to me and nods. I shake her hand. "I'm Jane Masterson, his mother. Come in, Amy."

  I enter the room and my heart gets punched at the sight. Logan is sleeping in bed, with several things strapped onto him. He looks paler, if that's even possible. But it's still Logan.

  A man whom I figured is his father is holding his hand and looking at him, with tears falling down his face. A girl a year or two younger than me is sitting on the other side, staring at him. The man looks up and I can swear I nearly jump at the identical gray eyes Logan inherited. I give him a smile.

  "This is Amy Wolfe, his friend. Amy, this is George Masterson, my husband and his dad," introduces Mrs. Masterson. I give a small wave from far, blinking to keep tears from falling. Mr. Masterson acknowledges my presence and goes back to looking at his son with melancholic eyes.

  The girl by Logan's side stands up and tucks her long sandy hair behind her ear and she extends a hand. "I'm Ella." She has her mom's eyes.

  I shake her hand. "I'm Amy."

  "Amaryllis, not Amy," a voice speaks up and I get a heart attack. All eyes are averted to Logan, who is awake. He is looking at me, smiling tiredly.

  Mrs. Masterson rushes by his side and strokes his hair. "How you feeling, baby?"

  "God, Mom, I thought I told you not to act cute in front of lovely girls. It messes up my flawless charm. I'm better, though." He chuckles, smiling at her. She hopelessly shakes her head at him, kissing his head repeatedly.

  "How's your breathing?" asks Ella.

  Logan grimaces. "So-so."

  "Well then don't talk, it'll make it worse," I speak up for the first time. He turns to look at me and grins.

  "Worried about me again, are you? And honestly, Amaryllis, you under appreciate your full name so much."

  I roll my eyes and feel tears gather up in my eyes. "Don't flatter yourself."

  He lets out a soft chuckle and looks around. "Well, let me properly introduce you to everyone since you probably introduced yourself in a shitty," his mom glares at him, "sorry, poopy way."

  There's a sparkle in his eyes when he says, "Well, everyone, this is Amaryllis Grace Wolfe, my friend soon-to-be girlfriend. Call her Amaryllis."

  I glare at him. "No romance is going on here, Logan!"

  "That's what you think." He turns to his dad. "Don't you just hate it when women are clueless?"

  Mrs. Masterson starts laughing. "Why do you talk to him like he has experience? The only woman he's ever loved is me."

  "Of course, Janey," smiles Mr. Masterson, giving Logan a secret look.

  Isn't it weird when you just feel that you'll be spending a lot of time with someone? Or in this case, a family?

  11

  All of our stars

  Finally, I am left alone with Logan. His parents and Ella went down to the cafeteria to get some dinner. He grins at me and shakes his head. His face is less pale than before, and there's some color in his cheeks and lips.

  "What?" I exclaim, tucking in a loose strand of my hair.

  "You came here."

  I shrug. "Of course. That's what friends are for."

  "Friends?" He raises an eyebrow.

  "Oh my God," I sigh. "Masterson, when are you going to get over the idea that I don't like you in that way?"

  "Well, Wolfe, I can't get over a lie. You're lying to yourself," he stopped at my glare, "fine, but don't blame me when you hear the I told you so, in a few months."

  "I swear, no one is as persistent as you are."

  He chuckles. "Not even Mr. Ethan?"

  I groan at that, because Ethan has called me at least five times since I'd gotten to the hospital. I answered him on the fourth call, in front of Logan's whole family. He wanted to make sure that I was okay after what had happened in school earlier. Then, he called again, but that was when I decided to put my phone on silent.

  "I don't even know what's up with him."

  Logan looks at me as if I'm stupid. "He's still in love with you, duh."

  "I know that, but I told him that I don't feel the same about him anymore. I even told June to ask him out for a movie or something."

  "Amaryllis, who called the ambulance when I so-gracefully lost conscience?"

  I roll my eyes, knowing that he already knew the answer. "Ethan."

  "Obviously, he is madly in love with you, although I don't blame him."

 
"What's that supposed to mean?" I crack a small smile.

  He shrugs. "I mean, the poor guy doesn't stand a chance. You can't blame him for being in love with you." The way he says that just makes him look so freaking handsome, it's incredible.