Hitch Your Wagon To A Star

s i x

❝Shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you'll land among the stars.❞
-Les Brown

***

"When we're old, and I mean really old," Maya begins as we lay out on my balcony, gazing out across the many stars dotting the sky. "I want you to take me dancing."

"Dancing?" I half laughs. "We could do that anytime, right now if you wanted," I point out, liking the idea of taking Maya dancing. Liking the idea of looking like a couple. The idea sends a tingle through my stomach, the thought of our bodies so close together, our laughter mingling in the air. Sounds rather divine to me.

"No, Clark, when we're old. I want to be the old lady that still has the moves. The old lady that still has her old man best friend next to her. The old lady that would rather bust a hip than win at bingo. Sounds pretty nice, growing old," she sighs, as if all the other dreams she had of being an astronaut weren't as far fetched as growing old. As if growing old is something hard to accomplish.

"Let's just enjoy the prime of youth, first," I chuckle, liking her being in this mood. The atmosphere wasn't all stuffy with tension, we weren't on the brink of an argument, we were just talking like we used to. Talking and making plans for the future ahead of us, the future we both know we're going to experience together.

"I wish we had a time machine," she sighs, ignoring my previous statement. "We could travel back to the 1940's. I could curl my hair and wear the finest dresses. You could wear a tie and a suit, and we could go for a milkshake. Or, we could go to a party. Can you imagine how many girls would want you to court them?" She laughs, the sound being complete music to my ears. It's exactly what I need to hear, especially after all of our conversations.

"Not a lot," I laugh with her.

"Oh, please!" She scoffs, only to remove her hand from mine and whack my arm. "Our school is just stupid. If we were back then, you would have all the girls at your feet." Her fingers find mine once again.

"How are you so sure?" I ask her, wondering where she's getting these outlandish ideas from.

"Because, I just know. You're not ugly, Clark, you're actually rather handsome. You keep your hair cut nice and your eyes are a brilliant shade of green. Not to mention your smile. Yes, all the girls we know are just idiots."

"I could say the same about you, Maya, knock down all the boys at our school for being such morons," I point out.

"Yes, you could. However, you don't go to school in Halloween costumes in the middle of January, either," she mutters.

"I like your costumes," I admit.

"I know you do. You're the only one."

"They make you, you."

"That, they do."

"They're unique."

"Like me," she laughs, even though her laugh makes it sound as if she's insulting herself.

"Yes, like you. You're perfect," I whisper.

"You're delusional."

"Perhaps, I am," I sigh.