Princess & the Player

ten: no current or former members of One Direction or the Jonas Brothers

a/n: slight steam alert.

Maggie's POV:

Jacob seemed shocked to see me. Britty was shy. I think they were afraid I'd come to stay.

I cleared that up. 

Then they relaxed a bit and showed me the old barn at the back of the property they were rebuilding. Told me I'd be welcome to visit once it was finished. Nana Scott  shook her head at that and walked away. 

Jeb and Laurie were amazing. They tried to smile for me like they'd never been better. It was lying all around but we'd never been apart for more than a week before and it had hurt like hell. 

As Marco and I were leaving, Jacob ran out with $100 for me and the old first aid kit from his wagon. It had been dorky but he looked so sad that I just said thank you. 

"About your mom," he whispered, glancing at my faded bruise. 

I stopped him with a wave. I couldn't handle an awkward family conversation with Marco itching to leave next to me.

Jacob nodded and said goodbye. 

We drove off down the dirt path and then back onto the state road. Jeb was waving until we were completely round the corner. Marco stayed quiet while I looked out the window and cried. He reached behind the seats with his free hand and found an old box of Kleenex and tapped me on the shoulder with it. 

It took an hour to hit a major highway going North and then Marco got us up to about 85. 

"No Bruno."

"What?"

"Driver's veto. No Bruno."

"Come on."

"Change it."

I changed it.

"No Taylor."

"But..."

"Listen closely, Maggie. I work in a bar, OK? I hear these tunes like 100 times a night. So here are the rules: no Bruno, no Taylor, no current or former members of One Direction or the Jonas Brothers, no Coldplay, no Maroon 5, absolutely nothing country and no Public Radio. No Gaga, no Ariana Grande unless it's either a video or a club mix and, it goes without saying, in a club. No Weeknd even if Daft Punk's on the track, no Pentatonix, no Imagine Dragons, no Shawn Mendes or Ed Sheerhan or Train or James Arthur or anything resembling a guy who wrote his tune in Starbucks over a latte."

"They play Public Radio in your bar?"

"Yep, Car Talk. Annoying as f*ck."

"You're lying."

"When you get old enough, I'll buy you a beer on a Sunday afternoon."

"So what you're saying is, we're down to Pitbull, Rihanna, Flo Rida, Oppa Gangham Style and whatever else was cool when you were my age?"

"Hey!" He shot me some side eye. "You can ride in the back, you know."

"Don't dish it if you can't take it." I was flipping through Spotify road trip playlists. Eventually I found one that didn't make Marco bitch. 

After awhile, he put his hand down on the bench seat between us. I put mine down too and he weaved our fingers together. 

I blushed when he caught me smiling. 

We rolled for a couple of hours like that. Sometimes talking about stuff like diner food or inconsistencies in Marvel Multiverse and sometimes just him tapping out the song with his thumbs on the steering wheel.