We picked ourselves up and made the clumsy walk to where Mariann’s golden sports-car sat parked in a gas station parking lot.

We were all exhausted.

“Let’s get breakfast,” Mariann’s boyfriend said.

We rolled through a Wendy’s drive-through. Frosty coffee and crispy hash browns. Mariann pulled into a parking space so she could safely navigate ketchup packets.

Mariann’s boyfriend and I waited. We were waiting for her to tell us our next move. Our next plan. Our next marathon away from boredom — doing something for the sake of doing something, not because it needed to be done, just for the joy of doing it — to be alive. We waited like zombies for brains, squished together in the small car, undead hearts beating in time.

When Mariann finally turned to look at us, I felt Mariann’s boyfriend’s pulse quicken. Electricity crackled in the air.

So what she said next was thoroughly disappointing…

“Let’s go to the aquarium!” she bounced excitedly.

Don’t get me wrong, I love aquariums, but compared to Mariann essentially committing arson to get me out of work and leaping out of a rhinestone encrusted limousine, a pleasant outing seemed pedestrian.

Mariann snorted and tapped my frown with her pointer finger.

“Have you ever made magic?” she asked me.

“What do you mean?” I frowned deeper, confused. This time, she tapped the crease between my eyebrows.

Mariann’s boyfriend chuckled, his body vibrating against me. “You’re not about to be Harry Pottered, sorry to disappoint.”

Honestly at this point if they told me magic was real, I would wholeheartedly believe them.

Mariann tapped my nose. “I don’t explain with words, remember?”

Suddenly she slammed the car into reverse, and we sped out of the parking lot so fast, I actually shrieked. Mariann cackled like a mad witch.

We rolled up to what was definitely not the aquarium. We stepped out of Mariann’s golden sports-car (which I learned was named Baby Blaze) onto short cropped grass. We weaved our way through what must have been a hundred buses and vans straight out of the 1970’s. Blue cars, red vans, faded looks, wheels painted with psychedelic florals, a car painted with peace signs, a replica of Scooby-Doo’s Mystery Inc van…

“The grass here is just too perfect,” Mariann’s boyfriend said. And then all of a sudden he was walking on his hands, black knee-high lace-up Converse pointed where his head used to be.

Mariann smiled affectionately. “Val gets bored with moving normally.” She flipped up onto her hands for a few paces before having to come back down.

“I can do better, but my arm’s sore from pulling back my bowstring,” she pouted competitively.

I chuckled, poking her in the arm mockingly. Seeing Mariann sulk was like watching a cat pretend it hadn’t just fallen off a bookshelf. She pouted even harder making me laugh more.

Mariann’s boyfriend slowly bent his legs over, turning walking on his hands into a series of front-walkovers. The two of us watched, entranced. He righted himself beside a large bus painted sky blue with fluffy white clouds.

“Come on!” he waved us impatiently. We sprinted up to him, laughing.

Mariann paused remembering something. “Wait!” she waved him to bend down toward her.

He rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t want to.”

“You have to. I’m going to need an I.O.U.”

“He’ll grant us an I.O.U. without this.”

“Vaaaal~” Mariann whined.

He let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. But I still don’t think this is right.”

She clapped her hands, happy to have gotten her way. “Don’t make such a big deal out of everything.”

She reached into her bra (which apparently had a convenient inner pocket — I needed one of those) and pulled out a tube of black lipstick which she applied to her boyfriend’s lips, emphasizing their plumpness and shape.

Despite his protestations, he blotted the lipstick properly on the tissue she handed him, demonstrating that he had done this multiple times.

“Do it how I taught you,” she swatted him on the butt as he rolled his eyes again and groaned.

Then Mariann turned to me and spread her arms out indicating the field of old-style vehicles. “Which one do you think we should take? It has to be a big one.”

I hadn’t been expecting the question, but the answer came easily to me as I stared directly behind her at the blue sky and fluffy clouds… The bus was perfect.

We walked into a small space that was part garage, part rental office. The man sitting behind the counter was fiddling with an extracted car engine. He practically oozed masculinity; he was a cowboy and a mechanic in one. He looked like someone who had done everything possible to embody virile energy, from his big muscles to his denim jeans, to the grease mark swiped across his forehead — to the poster of the pinup cowgirl with the big tits plastered behind him on the wall.

A buzzer sounded as Mariann and I entered. He looked up from his work. “Oh, hi, Mariann,” oddly, he looked flustered and started looking behind us expectantly.

“Austin, darling!” Mariann strode up to the counter, speaking fast, “We need a loan for today, but sadly I forgot my wallet and I need an I.O.U. Do you think you could help us out?”

Austin frowned, “Well, I don’t —”

Mariann’s boyfriend suddenly walked in behind us. I hadn’t realized he hadn’t walked in with us.

“Hello, Austin,” he said, looking him straight in the eyes with an unreadable expression.

Austin’s cheeks flushed, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish.

“Do you think you can help us?” Mariann’s boyfriend bit his big black bottom lip nervously, big puppy eyes a cross between shy and something else…

Austin’s words were a hollow breath, “Sure,” he gulped and pulled himself together, looking away rapidly. His eyes found mine in his panic. He relaxed, clearing his throat.

“Which one do you need?”

We drove out of the grassy lot in the giant sky-bus; Mariann’s boyfriend grumbling unhappily.

“It’s not right,” he said.

“Oh come on! You’re like James Bond! Austin gets to be a beautiful Bond girl!”

“That’s really messed up on so many levels, Mariann. I don’t think it’s right to play with his feelings like that.”

“Play with his feelings like what exactly? You didn’t promise him anything. You didn’t lead him on. You can’t avoid talking to him just because he has a crush on you. It’s his fault if he gives you special treatment just because he has a soft spot for you. Plus, this is for the greater good!”

Mariann’s boyfriend rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. “I don’t think it’s right to tease someone who is struggling.”

“You mean struggling to find the right sexy goth boy that is the exact opposite of him in every way?”

“Struggling with his identity!” He slammed a fist down on the back of the seat loudly.

“Sheesh! No need to get violent.”

I swallowed. “Maybe we can help him.”

They both turned to look at me.

“Maybe he just needs someone to accept him.”

Mariann sighed. Her tone went serious. “I’m not sure it’s that easy, Curious. Sometimes it’s not about someone but about everyone.”

I felt very sad in that moment. Perhaps not everyone was the same as me. I had just needed someone. I knew Mariann and Mariann’s boyfriend were the same way. But it made sense that we were different. We didn’t care about what people thought. In a way, we didn’t have to. I remembered that most people were not wired that way.

Mariann’s boyfriend reached over and squeezed my hand. I squeezed it back.