Diaz and His Princess

Ch. 8, Anytime

Once the two reached Marco's house, Star was baffled.

She assumed Marco would live in a cute ranch house with two sweet but stern parents, and this little rebel act he was putting on was totally unjustified since his home-life was completely perfect.

(Regardless of what you may think, she doesn't believe she thought about Marco too much.)

Instead, she was surprised to be stopped at a one story, dreary looking house with yellow-patched grass, a garden full of weeds and old, dead plants and an open garage full of tools, old, ratty bikes and an assortment of useless junk, all piled up around a faded maroon minivan.

The yellow paint on the house which might have one day been a bright and pretty color was now dirty and peeling, and the wooden shutters that bordered the windows were broken and covered in vines so thick you could probably climb on them.

Parked in the driveway behind the minivan was a Harley Davidson motorcycle, which was probably the nicest and cleanest thing in the front yard.

Frowning thoughtfully, Star followed Marco up the driveway, suspecting he'd lead her to the ugly minivan and, like a true gentleman, make her sit in the backseat because he was too lazy to move the pile of trash that was probably sitting in the passengers seat.

Instead, Marco took a seat on the motorcycle and shoved the kickstand up with his foot.

"Hell no," Star said unintentionally, the words spilling from her mouth before she could bite them back.

No way was she getting on a motorcycle. Especially not with Marco who she wouldn't trust with a hamster let alone her life.

Marco twisted around so he could see her and chuckled.

"Afraid, princess?" He teased smugly, sticking his key into the ignition.

"There is no way in hell I am getting on that bike with you," Star said firmly, ignoring his question.

"Oh stop being such a wuss, let's go your highness before I change my mind," Marco rolled his eyes but couldn't help being amused by her fear which seemed totally irrational to him.

"Ha no, I was hoping you'd change your mind anyway so I'd have an excuse to grab a ride from a trustworthy stranger," Star crossed her arms defiantly.

"A trustworthy stranger?" Marco snorted.

"Anyone's trustworthy compared to you," Star replied, regretting her choice of words.

"Ok come on, quit fooling around, it's safe, I'm a really good driver," Marco kicked his kickstand back into place and hopped off the bike so he could comfortably face Star.

"Pull that curtain rod out of your ass and hop on," Marco patted the seat reassuringly, the sentence sounding rather odd since he was talking with a surprisingly gentle voice.

"Yeah, no," Star spun on her heel and walked back down the driveway, feeling confident in her decision until she saw how close the sun was to the horizon.

"Shit," she thought worriedly.

On second thought, she needed the ride, but even if she had the courage to sit on a motorcycle while Marco was driving, she couldn't go back and face him now, after she had so confidently stormed off.

"Hold on," Marco said.

Star hopefully turned back to face him.

Maybe he would drive her home in the minivan?

"PLEASE use the minivan, please, please, pleeeaasssee," Star begged silently.

"For once loosen up Star, it'll be a 2 minute drive, unless you want to walk home in the pitch darkness and somehow explain to your parents that you were late because some strange boy was distracting you, see how well that will mull over, if you get home that is..." Marco trailed off in an attempt at mysteriousness.