Mars Drabbles

Arena lights. Dust. The scent of sweat and beer and popcorn. The typical scene for the Zalmans on a Saturday night. While their parents sat in the bleacher, Mars and Weston were along the sidelines, leaning against the railings and watching as other kids their age got their spin on the bucking horses.

Soda in hand, Mars cracked open the top with a hiss, bubbles foaming over the lid and spilling onto his hand before dripping into the dirt as his feet.

“Ohhh, ouch! Did you see that?” Weston bumped his younger brother on the arm, causing more of the coke to spill over.

Weston was taller, leaner… more handsome, Mars was sure of it. While his skin was still worn from working, as was their entire family, there was a glow about him that was different. Perfect, really. His hair was a soft, bright blond, rather than the dirty mess that was Mars’, and actually trimmed short and kept neat. His eyes a sparkling blue that could convince anyone of anything. Mars joked that that was why he was so good with horses; all he had to do was look at them and they bent to his will. It was sickening, really.

Mars huffed holding the can away from his brother as he took a sip. “Dude, you’re wasting my drink.” He pouted, but still, his chocolate gaze picked up just in time to see the rider pulling himself up out of the dirt while the outriders chased down the horse that had tossed him. Mars recognized this one; a boy from his class, though he wasn’t great with names. Shawn? Maybe. He walked with a limp, his shoulder scrunched as though he didn't want to move it, but there was still a wide smile on his lips as he waved to the crowd. “Oh, he don’t look too hurt.” Mars said, flinching only when Wes punched him in the shoulder.

“Doesnt. He doesn’t look too hurt.” Wes corrected him before letting out a sigh and leaning back against the rail with a shake of his head. “How are you going to get a girl if you keep talking like a damn hobo?”

Mars scrunched his face, scoffing. “I’m sure I’ve had more girlfriends than you, and I’m younger.” He sneered, a teasing smirk finding his lips. “That’s sayin’ more about you than it does me.”

“Does it?” Wes toyed back, turning to face his younger brother and hooking an arm over the railing. “At least mine stuck around. How long was your last relationship?” He paused as if he had to think about it, drumming his finger on his freshly shaved chin. “Few months?”

“Oh shut up.” Mars scoffed, though he knew it was true. It was hard finding the one when their school had less kids than it had classes. “Ain’t my fault my pickings are slim.”

Another name was called out over the loudspeaker, pulling the boys from their conversation. “Weston Zalman. Ride 17.” Wes stiffened slightly at his name, glancing over to the rusty shoot where they waved him over. Mars looked up at him, nudging him with his elbow. “What, you gonna talk shit about me and then be too scared to get on a horse?” Despite his teasing tone, his smile was kind. Understanding. Mars knew his brother wasn’t going to last in this sport like he planned to. He was too gentle. Too soft. He preferred to make friends with the horses rather than get bucked off of them.

Wes offered him nothing but a scoff and a ruffle of his hair before striding off to the shoot, the horse already loaded and the other men beckoning him to hurry. Mars watched up until his brother swun his leg over the panels, and turned back to look across the arena.

And that’s when he saw her.

Long, shiny brown hair and freckled tan skin. She wore a white crop top with a red flannel shirt, tied in a knot at her belly button rather than buttoned up. Short shorts… straw cowboy hat. She looked at him, and he felt as though he was drowning in her emerald green eyes.

He snapped his gaze away the moment he realized he was staring, He felt his face warm as he looked to his drink, pretending to be very interested in the warm can of coke. It was too late, though, she had seen him. And she was making his way over.

He could feel the railing vibrate as she leaned against it, shoving the heel of her boot against the metal piping. His breath hitched as she didn’t waste any time, hooking her arms over the railing and looking at him with a narrowed, luring gaze. “Saw you looking at me.”

“Kinda hard not to.” He replied, brow arching as a smirk played across his lips. He had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep them from shaking. Despite the confidence that was evident in his tone, his nerves were going wild, his heart pounding hot in his chest.

She laughed. He smiled. The clang of metal caught both of their attention as the gateman let the horse loose, Weston in the saddle. Mars turned to watch, stepping up a rung on the fence to get a better view. The horse went wild, bucking and kicking down the arena while his poor brother hung on for dear life. “Go Wes!” He shouted, leaning over the railing, but his voice was drowned out by the rest of the crowd.

It was a mere second before the girl was swinging up beside him, shouting along with him. Mars glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, leaning closer so that she could hear him. “That’s my brother.” He said with a nod, both of them wincing as the buzzer sounded and Wes found himself flailing to the ground. He hit shoulder first, and rolled, but the thump into the sand was something they could feel.

“He’s pretty good.” The girl replied, leaning closer as well, her hand brushing his atop the red railing. Mars pretended not to notice, despite the zing that shot through his skin.

“He stays on.” He scoffed, but still, there was a proud smile on his face as he and Wes momentarily locked eyes before his brother dipped down to grab his hat.

“And you can do better?” Her voice pulled him back, a purr to her tone.

“Stick around and you’ll find out.” He sneered, but his heart suddenly flipped as he felt her warm hand cover his. His gaze danced away from the view of the arena, just in time for her to grab a fistfull of his shirt and pull him closer. They both stumbled from the railing, her back now against it and his hands landing on either side of her shoulders to catch himself.

Startled, now, his breath heavy, he looked down at her with wide eyes and a stunned expression, which only made her laugh, her breath hot against her neck. “What are you-”

And then she kissed him.

It was hungry and deep, one hand still tight on his shirt as she held him close, the other knocking his hat off of his head so that she could run her fingers through his hair. His heart now raced faster than before, pounding hard against his chest as he leaned into it, taking in the taste of her lips, the scent of her hair, the feel of her soft skin…

“Marley Zalman, Ride 18.”

He pulled away, reluctantly. “That’s-” but she dragged him back, another kiss biting at his lips. “-me.” He gasped as he managed to pull away again, this time pushing from the railing and wrapping his hand around the one she still had fashioned to his shirt.

She giggled, then, loosening her grip as she glanced over her shoulder at the gate men who were yelling Mars’ name. Biting her lip, she held out her hand, “Give me your phone.” His brow quirked, but he wasted no time digging the old cell out of his pocket. She laughed as he handed it to her, flipping the screen up to the classic three-letter-per-number pad. “This is so old, how do you even use this thing?”

“Shut up.” Mars mumbled, a stupid grin on his lips as he watched her punch a series of keys before handing it back to him. He glanced at it once as she bent down to pick up his hat, placing it back on his head in a lopsided fashion.

“Text me. Or better yet, calling would probably be easier on that piece of shit.” She winked, leaning just close enough as if she was going to kiss him again… before ducking away and sauntering off. His gaze followed her, his veins running hot and knees weak.

The voices calling him had quit, as another name sounded over the loudspeaker. They had given up, but he didn't care. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the girl of whose name he didn’t even know yet.