Garrett Nickelsen Tastes Like Fart

“What the hell was that?”

“What?” I turned around to fully face Heather in her doorway, surprised by her joking tone. She wore a smirk and her eyes were bright.

“That whole…” She reached down and mimicked his fingers wrapping around my forearm, the smirk still tugging at her lips. “You guys do more than just breakfast?” she asked playfully when I gave her a blank look.

“What?”

“Play some footsie?” She laughed and folded her arms around her middle. “I don’t know, maybe you got it on against that Twinkie car of his?” she suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“What? Heather, that’s just… Ew.” It didn’t matter that I made out with the kid. I mean, yeah, I was sober, and yeah, sure, he wasn’t bad looking, but that was just not going to happen again. So it was better for Heather to get the idea out of her head. I brushed past her into her house as she closely followed, shutting the door behind her.

“Well, let me ask you again. What the hell was that?” she asked accusingly as I collapsed into the couch.

I sighed. “He was going to hug me goodbye, at least I think he was, but then you scared him off,” I said, folding my arms. She grinned brightly as she took a seat on the coffee table in front of me, shrugging her shoulders.

“Still doesn’t explain the whole awkward sexual tension you guys were radiating all over my porch. Or the whole hand on forearm thing he pulled,” she smugly pointed out, hunching over her knees.

“You read into things that shouldn’t be read into.”

“Whatever. That was something,” she stated, pointing a finger at me. I quirked an eyebrow but she waved it off. “Okay, so if you didn’t jump each other’s bones, what happened? Spill the beans, Hoffman.”

I chuckled nervously and tucked my legs to my chest, folding my arms over my knees. “We went to Denny’s—”

“How romantic.”

“—and we got breakfast. That’s it,” I explained, rolling my eyes at her comment.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Oh, and my list got thrown away.”

“Your list got thrown away?” she groaned. “You better have remembered everything.”

I just scoffed. “Nope.”

“What the hell? How could you forget the list? There were only, like, six things on it.”

“Seven,” I corrected. “But the list is kaput.”

She laughed, nodding her head suggestively. “Yeah, I’m sure Garrett helped you cross off everything in two hours.”

“That’s not even possible, Heather.” I shook my head and sighed. “We just talked, and there’s not gonna be a bucket list. Not anymore.”

She started, her eyes getting wide. “No bucket list?” I confirmed with a nod. “Then why are you going to his house Thursday?”

“Ha! I knew you were eavesdropping!” I laughed and pointed at Heather as her jaw went slack. She mocked my laugh in a high-pitched voice and shot up from the coffee table, brushing past me and into the kitchen, probably to get herself more coffee. Like Diet Coke was my choice beverage, coffee (two sugars, three creams) was Heather’s. She practically bathed in caffeine.

“Okay, so I was listening in. I had to know what you guys were doing, lurking on my porch like that. It’s not every day I see you talking to a boy, let alone one as hot Garrett Nickelsen,” she said as goose bumps broke out over my forearms. I heard the clinking of china in the kitchen before Heather walked back into the living room, a red mug clutched in her hands. She took the spot next to me on the couch and crossed her legs. “So what are you guys gonna do Thursday? Mack? Sex? I’m not buying any condoms, so I hope he has some.” She smirked at the frown tugging at my lips. “Hey, anything else is kind of pointless since there’s no list.”

“Shut up!” I could feel a blush tinting my cheeks. “I don’t really know. He said he was going to pick me up, and maybe we’d do something with his brother… Todd or something…”

“You mean Trey?”

I snapped my fingers and released my legs from my chest. “Yeah, that was his name.” Heather rolled her eyes and took a ginger sip of coffee. “Hey, Heather?”

“Yeah?”

“You said Garrett was well-known last night. I… I just want to know why.” Curiosity never hurt anyone, right? And it’s not like I was looking for an excuse to not hang out with him.

“Uhm…” She bit her lip and wrapped her fingers around her mug. “Well, it’s less popular, more like infamous if you ask me.”

I knitted my eyebrows together. “Infamous? What? Why?”

She gave me a forced smile and looked down at her mug, keeping me on the edge of my seat. “It’s just a rumor. It’s been going around forever.”

“A rumor? Heather, you know rumors are just dressed-up lies,” I told her disapprovingly.

“Yeah, but it’s just…” She groaned and looked up at me from her coffee. “He’s not a bad guy or anything, Elise. And it’s probably not true, anyway. At least,” she muttered, “I don’t think it’s true.”

“Just tell me, Floyd,” I groaned, giving her a good glare.

“Uh, okay.” She cleared her throat, keeping her eyes on her coffee. “Well, this year—I mean, last year, our junior year, there was talk going around that he cheated on his girlfriend. Michele Owens, you know her?”

“What do you think?” I deadpanned.

“Right. Of course you wouldn’t…” She drummed her fingers around her mug and looked back up at me. “They had been dating for a while, y’know? Always together, friends since, like, the third grade or whatever. After she found out he... he was... Anyway, she ended up breaking up with him in the middle of a Halloween party. Like, she called him out on it and he just stood there. He didn’t say anything. Then he decided he’d walk away in the middle of it, and that made everyone think what she said was true.” She caught sight of my slight frown and sighed, reaching out to gently pat my knee. “It’s just talk, Leesey. I wouldn’t take it too seriously.”

“Well, do you think it’s true?” I asked, a bit taken aback by my acerbic tone. I was quite miffed by the rumor, even though I knew better than to even think twice about gossip. But if Heather thought it could be true, then I didn’t know what to believe.

“I don’t know. I don’t really know Garrett personally. Jude knows him better than I do, but I don’t know. Maybe his ex was just jealous, or maybe he actually…” she trailed off, eventually taking another sip of coffee.

“Oh,” I sighed, focusing my gaze on the tiny globe Mr. Floyd kept on top of the TV, the same one Garrett was staring at earlier.

“So…” Heather hummed.

“So…” I copied, switching my gaze from the globe and back to her.

“You up for some Tony Hawk?” Heather suggested as a smile grew on her lips.

I chuckled and nodded, following Heather as she shot up from the couch and headed for the staircase.

Heather and I loved to play Tony Hawk Pro Skater 4. It all started almost two years ago when she had just got her license and she took me driving on a Saturday. We ended up garage sale hopping, but none of the sales had anything else but crappy VHS tapes and old clothes, except for the last one we visited. Heather had to borrow some of my allowance and ended up bartering with the seller against a ten year-old boy for a beat-up Play Station console and the two games it came with: a strictly single-player James Bond game that Heather ended up beating a week later, and Tony Hawk Pro Skater 4. We would always spend hours just skating around or playing SKATE or tag. It was fun, even if we always lost interest after a good two hours or so. But we almost always played the video game when I came over.

We were halfway through our intense game of SKATE when part of the conversation I first had with Garrett came to mind.

“So, about the kiss?” I asked Heather as I nailed a backside tailslide and kickflipped out.

She whistled as I landed the trick on the ramp, nodding her head in approval much like she did last night after dragging me from the porch swing.

“What about it?” she asked as her custom avatar came on screen. “Please don’t tell me you got an STD. I saw the way his tongue—”

“Ew, no.” I laughed as Heather’s skater messed up a grind, the skateboard nailing him in the crotch as he doubled over. Heather just winced, tossing her remote on the floor in front of her crossed legs. “Garrett, he, uh… He apologized.”

She quirked an eyebrow at me, her lips curved in a blithe smile. “No way. He apologized?” I nodded as she let out a low whistle. I turned my attention back to the screen as my avatar came up. “What did you say?”

I slightly winced, and not because my own skater just took a huge spill off the edge of a three-story building. “I said I didn’t care?” I half-told her.

She let out a single laugh, shaking her head as she reached for her controller. “No way. No way. You did, didn’t you?” She laughed again as I nodded my head. “Oh, Elise,” she sighed as she landed a perfect triple kickflip.

“What?” I mumbled as the last letter she needed to win flashed across the screen. I sighed and shook my head, and not because I just lost the game.

“You’re a real heartbreaker, aren’t you?”

“What?” I snapped my head in her direction and stared at her with wide eyes.

She chuckled and leaned over to turn off the Play Station. “It’s kinda obvious Garrett likes you. Or at least he wants to get in your pants.” She indifferently shrugged when I backhanded her shoulder and let out a disgusted groan. “Oh, come on. How do you not get it?”

“Huh?”

She sighed heavily. “He likes you, Elise. And then you just tell him you don’t care about the stuff on the porch swing? He probably feels rejected right now, if not really confused.”

I scoffed. “How can you be so sure he likes me, huh? That’s just... That’s stupid. You said so yourself that he was probably drunk last night,” I pointed out, crossing my arms.

“If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have come after you,” she said easily.

“Oh,” I squeaked. I didn’t think of it that way. I didn’t even think I’d see the day where a guy could be interested in me. Not that I thought that Garrett was interested in me. That’d be improbable. Impossible, really.

“Whatever. I’m starving. You up for some In-N-Out or something?”

She didn’t wait for my answer, and instead rushed out of her room and down the stairs, her keys already jingling from her fingers.

|||

“God, I’m starving,” Heather mumbled before shoving her burger into her mouth. I laughed as a bit of mustard fell from the bun and onto her French fries.

“Haven’t you eaten today?” I asked, generously covering my fries with pepper.

“Does coffee count?”

I laughed once and shook my head, reaching for my extra-large Diet Coke.

“Hey, Elise. That’s your name, right?”

Heather’s eyebrows shot up ten feet as she stared at the person behind me, a fry hanging from the corner of her mouth. She quickly gave me a bemused look.

I turned around in my seat and rested my arm on the back of the chair, looking up to see one of the boys I had met the previous night.

“Hey, Jared. That’s your name… right?” I mimicked, a tight smile on my lips. Talking with Garrett while Heather eavesdropped was one thing, but talking with a boy I had briefly conversed with last night that Heather didn’t know about, especially one as attractive as Jared, was entirely another thing.

He quirked a smile and nodded his head, letting out a lazy “Yeah.”

Another boy in a purple shirt stood idly behind him, his brown hair unkempt and sticking up in certain places. His hands were stuck deep into his pockets and he was smiling just a bit, even with a confused expression not much unlike Heather’s crinkling his forehead. I could see him reach a hand from his pocket to nudge Jared’s elbow, and he whispered something in his ear. Jared quickly shot his eyes to me before nodding, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“So, did you end up enjoying the party last night or whatever?” he asked as the boy behind him sauntered off to the front to order.

I opened my mouth to reply, but Heather was hot on my heels, answering for me in the most embarrassing way possible before I could even utter a word.

“Oh, you bet your ass she did,” she piped up, giggling after she spoke.

I reeled around in my chair and gave her a stern look. She only shrugged her shoulders and picked up her humongous burger, taking a huge, uncouth bite. After her comment, I had hopes she’d choke on her food or maybe a bit of mustard would stain that new flowery blouse she had bought a week earlier.

Jared only chuckled in response, but was distracted by his lanky friend waving him over to the front where a grumpy, graying man in an In-N-Out visor stood behind the cash register.

“Hey, do you guys mind if we join you?” Jared asked, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.

Heather was about to answer—most likely with an enthusiastic yes—but I shot her down with another stern look and turned around in my chair to face Jared. “We were just about to leave ‘cause we’re, uh, late for…”

“Late for my little brother’s Little League game,” Heather slowly finished, shooting me a look. She was an only child, and a terrible liar, but the smile she shot Jared seemed to have convinced him.

His lips formed an o and he nodded, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. “I’ll see you around, then, yeah?” he asked, the corner of his mouth upturned in a soft smile.

“Sure.” I nodded and gave him another awkward grin before he turned around and walked up to the cash register next to his friend in the purple shirt.

“Crisis adverted,” I muttered, twisting back around in my seat. Heather scoffed, dropping her burger still clutched in her hands onto her tray.

“Crisis my ass. That Jared guy’s cute.”

I shrugged indifferently. The only reason why I didn’t want them to join was because they were boys. Boys made me clam up unless we were talking about David Bowie or Faraday's law of induction. Heather, as my best friend, knew how difficult it was for me to socialize with the opposite sex, so there was no doubt she knew why I wanted to avoid Jared and his friend. Thanks to her, I wouldn’t have to suffer through a half hour of awkward silences and monosyllabic sentences because of two boys.

“But do we really have to leave? I mean, seriously. We just got here, dude! And I’m really hungry, like, you have no clue,” she moaned.

“Oh, shush, Heather,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at the two boys as they filled their cups at the soda fountain. “We can eat at my house if you’re so interested in eating In-N-Out at a table.”

“Better than shoving it while driving a car,” she muttered, crossing her arms stubbornly.

I stifled a laugh at her childish behavior. “C’mon, let’s just go to my house. I think there’s some Neapolitan with your name on it,” I stretched out, lightly kicking her foot under the table.

She shook her head in defeat, rolling her eyes as I sent her a smile. “Fine. But I expect two scoops, not just one.”

|||

Heather was able to goad me into visiting her at Burrito Ranchero the Wednesday before I was to grab lunch and hang out with Garrett. She was absolutely convinced that this whole “hang out and whatever” thing was just a ploy he was using to get me to sleep with him. I vehemently disagreed after a good slap to the back of her head NCIS-style, but she still assumed, however teasingly, the worst of Garrett. I asked her if it was because of the rumor that had been circulating around the past seven months, but she just shrugged it off and said that she was just worried about me actually socializing with a boy without her help. I couldn’t help but accept her explanation, but the rumor of him cheating on his ex-girlfriend still bothered me, however irrelevant it was. Even if he did—which I couldn’t care less if he did or not—it still wouldn’t be my place to judge. For the past few days, I just tried my best to forget about the rumor because, obviously, it was just gossip.

The Burrito Ranchero was very chilly when I stepped inside, the brass bell that hung on the door mutedly ringing as I pulled it open. Heather looked up from wiping down the front counter by the register, and the scowl on her face was quickly turned into an excited grin.

“Finally. I was wondering when you’d get here. It’s so boring when no one wants to leave their house for a good burrito.”

I laughed and folded my arms across my chest, basking in the cool air pulsing from the ceiling fan. It was easily the hottest day since last summer: a good 107-degree day without a single cloud in the sky. I even contemplated on putting on some sunscreen before braving the five second walk from Father’s car to the gas station.

“So, are you going to order anything?” she asked, balling up the rag and tossing it into a five-gallon Home Depot bucket behind her.

“Do I have to?” I asked, resting my palms against the counter and leaning forward to get a better look at the menu.

“Yes,” she easily replied.

“What’s good? You know, besides the usual chicken burrito.”

“They all suck.” She giggled when I gave her a flat look. “Maybe a number four?”

“Sure,” I agreed, reaching for the crumpled ten-dollar bill in my pocket.

It took her all of five minutes to make two combos—one for her and one for me, since she felt like she deserved a lunch break. I grabbed a Diet Coke from one of the gas station’s glass cases and fell in the vinyl chair across from her, my burrito wrapped in foil on a paper plate.

“Classy,” I mumbled, twisting off the cap of my drink.

“You know it, bro,” she said as she unwrapped hers.

“Any particular reason why I just had to be here, even when I was here for your first day Monday?”

“No reason,” she airily waved off, taking a haggard bite of her burrito.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?” she asked, her nose scrunched up.

“You’re being all blasé.” Her nose wrinkled even more. “Nonchalant. Indifferent. Airy.”

“Oh,” she nodded. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why am I here eating an over-priced burrito?” I asked, setting it down and wiping my hands off on my jeans.

She sighed and set down hers as well, adjusting the Burrito Ranchero baseball cap on her head. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

She groaned again, picking at the rice that fell from her meal. “I just don’t see how hanging out with Garrett is going to get you any results. I mean, you were really dead-set on crossing off everything on that list a week ago, and now you’re just following what the dude suggests like he’s Charles Manson or some shit. I mean, I’m not complaining. Like, I’m totally for you guys hooking up, bro, but don’t you still want to finish what you had on the list, too?”

My lips cringed at the thought of Garrett and me together, but Heather had a point. “Garrett’s just… I don’t know. I just trust him.” And it’s not like I had a reason not to. It’s not like I had major trust issues. If someone hadn’t wronged me before and seemed like they could be trusted, I trusted them. It’d worked so far, at any rate. “I just want to have a fun summer; that’s what the list was about in the first place, anyway,” I explained, shrugging my shoulders. “Garrett’s offered to show me what I’ve been missing.”

She giggled, a smirk playing at her lips. “Damn right he will.” I laughed mockingly before sticking my tongue out at Heather. She shrugged and picked her burrito back up, mumbling right before she shoved it in her mouth, “Just you wait and see.”