Mars (2 page)

2

Is there anybody out there?

“Mars,” he says, grinning and showing off his dimple. “I’m going to call you Mars.”

I let out a small chuckle, and plop myself next to him on the bench. The mall is crowded with people, passing by, having their own lives. Some look at Ethan in a way that makes my stomach churn. For now, though, I couldn’t care less. He is with me, here.

“Mars?” I repeat, taking a bite of the Oreo ice cream in my hands. He eagerly nods, munching on his chips. He bought his chips, before I got my ice cream. He regrets it, even though he won’t show it.

I laugh again at how stupid he looks; his hair is wet and it makes him look like a puppy. Apparently, running to the mall in the rain isn’t a very good idea, even if the mall is two streets away.

“I’ll tell you why,” he says, before I can open my mouth to ask why. “It’s because you blush easily, and Mars is red. You like the chocolate bar Mars, and you want to be the first teenager to walk on Mars.”

My eyebrows scrunch together, but I can understand what he means.

“You’re weird, Ethan,” I declare, smiling.

He winks at me. “That’s why you like me.”

I can hear a vague sound in the background, and I feel myself crying. I close my eyes shut, refusing to believe that I am dreaming. It all feels too real to be a dream. It is too good to be unreal.

“Amy!” I hear Dad exclaim, shaking me. I finally open my eyes, but it hurts to do so because my eyes are red from the tears. My dad’s terrified expression becomes relieved. He wipes the tears on my cheeks, although that doesn’t stop them from falling again.

He pats my hand. “Was it a bad dream, honey?” he asks, and I wish I could say yes. Instead, I make a sign that no, it wasn’t a bad dream and I realize that my hand is shaking as well as my whole body.

I take deep breaths to steady my breathing.

“I didn’t want to wake up,” I whisper, watching as the invisible switch clicks in my dad. He understands. He loved Ethan like his own son, and he trusted him with me. I can see what he’s thinking, and he says it to me.

“I wish she was here, she would’ve known how to help.”

Me too, Dad
, I think.  
I miss her too. 
She wouldn’t have known how to fix a broken heart, but she would’ve held me in her arms and let me cry.

I close my eyes again and feel myself drift away into another dream.

This time, it is a memory of the time I brought Ethan to the cemetery to meet my mom. I remember how he introduced himself to her and he told her why he loved me. He promised to treat me well.

He lied.

"Miss Wolfe, why don't you answer this question? Maybe it'll get you back on Earth," says Mr. Yethia, his face displaying triumph at the thought of catching a student red-handed with zero attention.

Although, I am not stupid.

I give him a smile. "Well, Mr. Yethia, Athena's birth was exceptional. You see, after swallowing Metis, Zeus got the biggest headache in the world. He howled so loudly it could be heard throughout the earth. The other gods came to see what the problem was. Hermes realized what needed to be done and directed Hephaestus to take a wedge and split open Zeus's skull. Out of the skull sprang Athena, full grown and in a full set of armor. Due to her manner of birth, she has dominion over all things of the intellect. "

He gapes at me as I mentally praise myself for taking the time to read the textbook yesterday and memorize a few paragraphs. I hear a few people behind me laugh at the history teacher, including Ethan. I recognize his laugh and look back down to the agenda in front of me. Ethan is behind me.

Someone pokes my back and I feel myself stiffen.

I'll just ignore it.

The poking is repeated.

I gather my courage with two hands and turn around, after making sure that Mr. Yethia has his back turned. Ethan is smiling at me, and I can feel my heart tighten in my chest. He offers me his fist for a fist pump.

His smile becomes a grin and he whispers, "Nice one, Mars."

At that moment, something in me just snaps.

"What the heck do you think you're doing? Why are you being like this? The whole background scheme was real low, Ethan," I say in a hushed voice. A few heads turn toward us, but at that moment, I couldn't care less.

His fist falls and his smile disappears. I cannot read his expression, so I turn around just at the moment when Mr. Yethia begins speaking. Half an hour passes, and I can feel my heart burning. It felt good to tell him that. It just did. And I don't know why.

The poking in my back is repeated and this time I swiftly turn with no hesitation. Ethan keeps his eyes on the teacher, seeming very interested. A small, torn piece of paper is on the edge of the desk. His hand points at the paper with subtlety.

I take the folded paper and read it.

I raise my shaking hand.

"Yes, Miss Wolfe?"

I look at the teacher and plead with my eyes. "I have a horrible stomach ache; can I please go see the nurse? I—I feel like I'm going to puke, sir."

His eyes widen at the last part and he ushers for me to go. I crush the paper in my hands and put it in my pocket, despite my temptation to throw it away. I get out of the class, my stomach churning.

I walk to my locker, and unfold the paper again. His messy handwriting was unreadable, but I manage to read it.

I made a mistake.

3

Gravity of you

I threw the paper away last night. I read it so many times that I knew how every letter was written. Who does he think he is? Has he lost his mind?
 He
 broke up with 
me.
 And now, he regrets it?

"Amy, we need to talk," he says, scratching the back of his neck. His eyes don't meet mine, and I instantly become worried. He is never like this, then what happened? He never calls me Amy.

I take one step toward him. "What's wrong?"

He takes a step away from me and lifts his eyes to meet mine. My heart falls out of its cage at the sight of him. His eyes are red and blotchy and there are dark rings under his eyes. They aren't the warm brown I remember them to be; instead, they hold an emotion I’d never seen on him before: pain.

"Ethan? Talk to me."

He clears his throat. "I can't do this anymore." And his voice comes out scratchy.

"W-what do you mean?" I answer, and I can feel my heart starting to crack. He kicks a rock on the sidewalk angrily. I flinch.

"Damn it, I can't do us, Amy! I'm sorry." The last part comes out in a whisper. I can feel tears forming in my eyes. I don't even try to hide it.

"Why?"

He takes a deep breath and looks directly into my eyes. I want the ground to swallow me at that moment. "I don't feel anything for you anymore."

And at that moment, I feel my heart's barely noticeable cracks widening. My whole body starts to tremble.

"B-but, Ethan, you - how?"

The weather seems to be freezing now, even though it's summer. "I don't feel anything anymore, Mars. I can't love you."

I suddenly walk toward him and close the space between us. I kiss him with everything I have. The kiss tastes like salt and peppermint. He kisses me back.

"Didn't you feel anything? 'Cause I know we both did, Ethan! Was that really nothing for you?!"

He shakes his head and mumbles, "Nothing. I'm sorry, Mars."

My tears are freely falling now. I look at him and see the boy I love drift away from me.

"Don't call me that," I say, before walking away.

His hand is placed on my arm, and I turn around hesitantly. "Can we be friends?" he asks. And I laugh in his face.

"No, Ethan. No, we can't."

And I walk away from the boy I love more than anything.

It is Saturday morning. Dad is at work today, so I am left alone for the day. I make myself some tea and bring myself to drink it, even though I fully know that it might be the only thing I will eat today. I go to the living room and put on some old SpongeBob episode. 

I hug my legs closer to myself, hoping for a little warmth. I cannot cry. All I can think about is the letter. He says he made a mistake. I don't believe him. What if it's a prank? What if he knows how much I still care about him? Wasn't it enough when he told me he didn't love me anymore in August?

I pick up the phone and call the only person who can help me right now. 

She answers after the second ring. "Amy?" 

"Jenna? Can you please come over?" I plead, scolding my voice for coming out so shaky. I can see her becoming alert.

"I'll be there. I'm with Ryan right now, though. Can he come?" 

My hopes fall, but right now, I need her. I nod, but forget that she can't see me.

"Yeah." 

I wait exactly five minutes and thirty seconds, and three knocks are heard from the door and the doorbell rings. I open it and am greeted by a very worried-looking Jenna. Ryan is leaning against the door frame, a slight look of anxiety as well. He is a good friend, so I don't mind him listening to me while I talk to Jenna. 

"What happened?" asks Jenna, taking her shoes off and sitting on the couch. Ryan copies her actions. I go upstairs and take the torn paper from the empty garbage can in my room. I hand the torn pieces to her. She scans the contents of the paper, her eyes wide.

"He gave me this yesterday. And before yesterday, he found my iPod. He changed my background to an old picture of us."

Her whole body stiffens. "Why?" 

"Do I look like I know?" 

Silence. 

Ryan looks at me and hands me a pillow. I gratefully hug it. Jenna clenches her fist, her cheeks getting red. She takes out her phone and calls someone. 

"Kian, hi!" she greets. Kian is Ethan's best friend. "Can you please tell that asshole of a friend of yours to get over himself? If he wants anything from Amy, he should talk properly, instead of the stupid messages he keeps on sending her."

She raises an eyebrow at what he answers. "I don't care if you don't know what I'm talking about. But 
he 
knows. Just tell him that if he wants to tell her - oh, hello! Well, isn't it Ethan."

My heart stops for a second. Ryan is trying to get the phone from her, but she pushes him away. He shoots me a worried look. We both know that this can't end well. 

"Do I seem like I care? Ethan, if you want to tell her something, man the fuck up and tell her face-to-face." 

The muffled response on the phone makes Jenna's eyes widen. But there's a fire in them. "Okay. Bye."

She turns to me, hesitation clear in her eyes. Her next words make me want to hit my head on a wall repeatedly. 

"He's coming over to talk to you."