Chapter 15

"Marco! If you don't open your eyes, how are you going to tell me where we're going?!" Star's voice is full of laughter, her voice piercing directly into my ears from only a few inches behind me. As her question implies, I have my eyes squinted tightly shut against the chilly fall wind that blows more powerfully than I would have ever expected. Then again, I don't often consider what it would feel like to fly.

I weigh my options. On the one hand, my insane magical friend could easily fly us to the next country if I don't give her directions. On the other hand, maybe if I keep pretending this isn't happening we'll magically teleport back to the ground. Crazier things have happened, today. Our winged red wagon finally pausing its acrobatics to glide gently is the deciding factor for me peeling open my eyes to take a look at what I'd been missing.

My sleepy little California town spreads out below me, a view I'd seen perhaps a fraction of every now and then caught from drone cameras or news helicopters. Seeing it for myself for the first time is an experience I will never forget if I live to be a million years old. Without even thinking about it my whole body relaxes my previously hyper-tense muscles and I lean back into the architect of the chaos infecting my life, her body still running hotter than I would have expected. It feels nice in this chilly air.

She begins giggling, still holding me tight with her non-wand hand, and when I look back at her face with awe-struck eyes I see the same expression she always tends to have. Full of a wonder at the amazing sights you can see if you chase after adventure. Is this what I've been looking for, more than a chance to test my martial arts, more than an escape from the boredom of the world, and so much more than safe kids or bad boys?

Perhaps I would have found the answer for real in those sparkling blue eyes of hers if not for the whole wagon beginning to shake, "Marco, for real! We need a destination, I have no idea how long these wings will last!"

"Oh! Oh, okay!" I sit up and peer over the side of the wagon, the desperation of the new emergency throwing me out of my thoughtful mood. Now that we're past the initial fear of climbing so high in the air, my own apprehensive attitude about heights is blasted away to wisps of butterflies in my stomach that I honestly rather like, but I'd still rather not crash and die. My destination is rather difficult to find as I've never looked for it from the air, but desperation is a powerful motivator. I point out a certain little house in a cul de sac in the middle of town, yelling out, "There! Land us there!"

Immediately the wagon dips into a nosedive. Star clearly is in the mood to get us to the ground as quickly as possible, which is likely due to the fact that I can now see the glittering purple wings dissolving before my very eyes, "We're not gonna make it, Staaaaaar!" I yell out, her name transitioning into a high pitched (but definitely still totally manly) scream as I feel gravity take hold of us completely.

Star's grip on my hoodie tightens as we approach the ground at a horrifyingly fast pace. We're perhaps fifty feet from the ground when for the umpteenth time today I consider myself definitely dead. "Cotton Candy Cloudy Charm!" The princess screams out behind me, and a pink laser blasts past my head to summon a truly massive clump of what looks like a solid cloud of the same color. It has blue eyes and a smile that opens wide as we approach, munching us right out of the air.

The next few moments are a nearly vomit inducing simulation of what a pinball must feel like, as we bounce around the supernaturally soft and durable material until we finally disperse all of our momentum. Somehow we've managed to become entangled in a confusing mix up of limbs and odd positions, and I believe the wagon is actually on top of us as I feel I'm laying on the cotton candy-like being Star had summoned.

I find myself feeling a strange mixture of disappointment and relief that it is quite dark in here, as from the feeling of her legging clad knees and thighs on my head I might actually be looking directly up Star's skirt. The oddly bittersweet feeling doesn't last long, Star's wand lighting up to blast the wagon off of us and poof the giant cloud out of existence in the same flash of pink light. She jumps to her feet, then yanks me up as well to spin me around by my wrists. I can't help but join her in laughing, exalting in the feeling of simply being alive after our harrowing experience.

We're thrown out of our revelry when the wagon crash lands on one of the homes in the cul de sac and smashes right through the ceiling. The pair of us blink at the property damage, then nearly dissolve into another giggle fit. Someone could definitely have died from that, "Oh, my God Star. That was the best experience of my life. Let's go see if we actually made it to the right house?" I pull my hands away from Star and hook a thumb at what definitely looks to be Fergusson's home, the grin on my face impossible to suppress even by focusing on the new collection of bruises and scrapes I'd added to my body with the latest escapade. Am I becoming a masochist?

"Okay!" Star rushes off to the doorway and manages to contain herself to only three doorbell dings in quick succession. She's learning! I follow the crazy blonde up to the door, a bit slowly. I might not be bothered by the injuries I'm slowly racking up, but they're definitely slowing me down, especially as the adrenaline stops pumping.

The door is answered by Fergusson's mother a few moments later. She's probably one of the prettiest adults I've ever seen, a gorgeous petite little pixie of a girl with bright orange hair and slender limbs. She could nearly pass for our age. I swear, the only thing Fergusson got from her is his hair and her friendly personality. Not that he can make use of it very often, considering how basically his only friends are me and Alfonzo. Perhaps when he gets to college or so he'll come into his own?

"Why, Marco! C'mon in, my Ferggie is with Alfonzo in his room as usual." She barely even seems to notice Star for the first few minutes as we catch up, her talking about a thousand different little nothings a mile a minute. Star simply follows the pair of us into her home looking a little confused at being ignored. Must be strange for a princess to not even be greeted when meeting someone new, but Francine has always been really attached to me for some reason. I happily chat with her until Fergusson's father, Olaf enters the room.

"Well now, who's this with you Marco?" A deep voice booms out of the kitchen as a massive giant of a man squeezes through the doorway into the living room. He's blonde, probably seven feet tall, and all muscle with a gigantic beard. He's also carrying a tray of brownie fresh from the oven. I swear to all that is holy, how that giant tub of lard Fergusson managed to come from these two parents is a mystery that could stump our world's greatest minds.

"I'm Star Butterfly! Basically Marco's best friend, and new roomie!" Huh. First time she's gone with that as her introduction. Is she actually getting the fact that the magical princess introduction breaks things more often than not?

"Aha, well, I'm Olaf. This is my wife, Francine. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Butterfly. Marco often introduces his foreign exchange students to this household, and I extend the same invitation to you that I always do give them: You're welcome here anytime." The little woman dances up to her husband, gives him a peck on the cheek (she has to jump, which is the most adorable thing), and steals a brownie before tossing us both a wink.

"Have fun, Marco! You're especially welcome, you know. Even if Fergusson isn't around." Francine leaves us with that to disappear into the kitchen, giggling like a teenager. Olaf is all smiles until she leaves the room, but once she's out of sight bends his massive bulk down towards us to give me specifically a death glare.

"You keep him away from my wife, Butterfly girl. I'll be watching." His accent deepens, perhaps scandinavian? I'm not that good with accents, for all that I've been around foreign kids for years. He then heads back towards the kitchen as well, prompting Star to give me an absolutely befuddled look.

The best I can offer her in return in a bashful shrug. "They've always been like that. I don't really get it, but they're definitely nice people!" Crazy, but nice. Kind of like Star herself!