Morty’s bedroom was a chaotic shrine to teenage disarray. Crumpled soda cans littered the floor like fallen soldiers, half-finished model spaceships dangled precariously from his desk, and a faint whiff of stale pizza hung in the air. The dim glow of a flickering desk lamp illuminated his lanky frame as he paced back and forth, his sneakers scuffing against the worn carpet. His hands fidgeted, fingers twitching like they were trying to solve a puzzle only he could see.
“C’mon, Morty, you’ve got this,” he muttered to himself, his voice a nervous squeak. “Just… just say, ‘Hey, Jessica, wanna go out with me?’ No big deal. Totally cool. You’re a cool guy. A cool… space-traveling, alien-fighting guy. She’ll totally be into that. Right? Right.”
He stopped mid-step, catching his reflection in a cracked mirror propped against the wall. His mop of brown hair stuck out at odd angles, and his wide, anxious eyes screamed anything but ‘cool.’ With a groan, he dragged a hand down his face. “Who am I kidding? I’m gonna screw this up.”
His gaze darted to his phone, lying innocently on his unmade bed. It might as well have been a grenade. Heart pounding, he shuffled over, picked it up, and promptly dropped it onto the floor with a clatter. “Aw, geez!” he yelped, scrambling to retrieve it, only to fumble it again. Finally, with a shaky grip, he clutched the device like it was his lifeline. His thumb hovered over Jessica’s contact name, the little heart emoji next to it mocking him silently.
“Okay, okay, deep breath,” he coached himself, inhaling dramatically. “You’ve faced interdimensional monsters, Morty. You can handle one phone call.” With a trembling finger, he hit ‘call’ and pressed the phone to his ear, nearly dropping it a third time as the line began to ring.
It barely rang twice before a voice—smooth, confident, and dripping with playful menace—cut through the static. “Well, well, if it isn’t Morty Smith. To what do I owe the pleasure? Or are you just butt-dialing me again?”
Morty’s face instantly flushed a violent shade of red. He could practically see Jessica’s smirk through the phone, her sharp green eyes glinting with amusement. “H-hi, Jessica! No, uh, no butt-dialing this time. I mean, not that I’ve ever—uh, I mean, hi!” His voice cracked on the last word, and he winced, wishing he could melt into the floor.
Jessica’s laugh was a melodic jab, sharp and teasing. “Oh, Morty, you’re adorable when you’re flustered. Which is, like, all the time. What’s up? Spit it out before I start guessing, and trust me, my guesses are gonna embarrass you way more than whatever you’re about to say.”
Morty swallowed hard, his free hand tugging nervously at the hem of his yellow t-shirt. “R-right, okay, um, I was wondering if, uh, maybe, y’know, if you’re not busy or anything, if you’d wanna, like, go out? With me? Like, on a date? Maybe? If that’s cool? Or not! Totally fine if not!” His words tumbled out in a jumbled mess, his voice climbing an octave with every syllable.
There was a beat of silence on the other end, and Morty’s heart sank into his sneakers. Then Jessica’s laughter rang out again, bright and unapologetic. “Oh my God, Morty, did you just ask me out while sounding like a nervous chipmunk? That’s almost impressive. Alright, I’m in. But only because I’m curious to see how much more awkward this can get.”
Morty’s jaw dropped, and so did his phone—almost. He fumbled to catch it mid-air, his face splitting into a goofy, disbelieving grin. “W-wait, really? You’re saying yes? Like, yes yes? To me?”
“Don’t make me regret it, Smith,” Jessica shot back, her tone laced with mock exasperation. “So, where are we going? And don’t tell me it’s to watch you stutter over a milkshake at Boob World or whatever that creepy diner is called.”
Morty’s brain short-circuited. A plan? He hadn’t thought that far ahead. His eyes darted around the room, landing on a crumpled comic book, a sock with a questionable stain, and—nothing helpful. “Uh, it’s, uh, a surprise!” he blurted, immediately regretting it. “Y-yeah, a total surprise. Super cool. You’ll love it. I think. I hope.”
Jessica’s voice dropped into a low, dangerous purr that made Morty’s knees wobble. “A surprise, huh? Listen up, Morty, I don’t do lame. You better not drag me to some weird sci-fi convention with a bunch of sweaty nerds. Make it good, or I’ll make sure you regret it. Got it?”
“Y-yep! Got it! Totally got it!” Morty squeaked, nodding even though she couldn’t see him. “I won’t mess this up. Promise!”
“Good boy,” Jessica teased, her chuckle sultry enough to make Morty’s ears burn. “See you soon, dork. Don’t trip over your own feet before then.” With that, she hung up, leaving Morty staring at the phone with a mix of elation and sheer terror.
He let out a shaky breath and collapsed backward onto his bed, the springs creaking under him. Staring at the ceiling, his mind raced. “She said yes. Jessica said yes. To me. Oh God, what have I done?” A nervous giggle escaped him as he pressed his hands to his face. “I’m gonna die. Or worse, I’m gonna embarrass myself so bad she’ll never speak to me again.”
But then a spark of determination—or maybe desperation—flickered in his chest. Sitting up, he scrambled to his desk, yanking open a drawer stuffed with random junk. Underneath a pile of old homework and a half-eaten candy bar wrapper, he pulled out Rick’s portal gun, its sleek, metallic surface glinting in the dim light. A mischievous, slightly unhinged grin spread across his face. “If I’m gonna impress Jessica, I need something big. Something epic. Something… intergalactic.”
He fiddled with the dials, muttering to himself about coordinates he barely understood. “Okay, just a test run. No big deal. Just gotta find the most romantic place in the universe. Easy.” With a press of the trigger, a swirling green portal sputtered to life in the middle of his room. The air filled with the stench of sulfur and the ear-piercing shrieks of alien frogs as a murky swamp came into view on the other side.
“Aw, geez, no!” Morty yelped, frantically slamming the gun’s button to shut the portal. The vortex collapsed with a pop, leaving him panting and wide-eyed. “Okay, not that one. Definitely not that one. I’m not taking Jessica to a swamp full of screaming frogs. That’s not romantic. That’s a horror movie.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, he muttered, “Gotta find the perfect spot. Something with, like, glowing skies or floating islands or… I dunno, space wine? Is that a thing?” He grabbed a scrap of paper from his desk and scribbled a note to himself: *Don’t die before the date.* Chuckling nervously, he shook his head. “Yeah, with my luck, that’s priority number one.”
Tucking the portal gun under his pillow for safekeeping, Morty couldn’t help but grin despite the sweat beading on his forehead. The thought of seeing Jessica—of actually going on a date with her—sent a thrill through him, even if it was tangled up with the very real possibility of interdimensional disaster. “This is gonna be fine,” he told himself, though his voice wavered. “Totally fine. I’ve got a portal gun, a half-baked plan, and… oh man, I’m so screwed.”
But as he flopped back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling once more, one thought kept looping in his mind: Jessica said yes. And for now, that was enough to keep the chaos at bay. At least until tomorrow.
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