Chapter 8 #2
Natto, as I quickly learn, is fermented soybeans. The smell alone is enough to make me question my life choices. It's pungent, with a weird slimy texture that reminds me of the time I accidentally left a protein shake in my gym bag for a week.
I pop it in my mouth and immediately regret every decision that led me to this moment.
The taste is unique, to put it mildly. It's slimy and sticky, with a flavor that's somewhere between ammonia and feet.
The fermented beans have a strong, nutty taste that lingers on my tongue, making me wish I'd never developed taste buds.
I glance over at Zack, who looks like he's contemplating all his life choices. We lock eyes, both of us struggling to chew and swallow what feels like a mouthful of snot-covered beans.
“Dude,” Zack gasps after finally swallowing. “That was...”
I nod, trying to scrape the taste off my tongue with my teeth. “Yeah. Ready for the next one?”
We move on to the pork belly and clam sushi. The combination sounds weird enough on its own, but the reality is even worse. The texture is a nightmare – soft, fatty pork contrasting with the rubbery chewiness of the clam. It's like trying to eat a piece of bacon wrapped around a rubber band.
The flavors clash in my mouth, the saltiness of the pork fighting with the briny taste of the clam. It's like a war is happening on my taste buds, and there are no winners here, only victims.
I force myself to chew, feeling the fat from the pork belly coat my mouth in a way that makes me want to grab the nearest toothbrush. The clam resists, requiring more effort than I've ever put into eating anything in my life.
“This is something,” I manage to say, trying not to gag.
Zack just nods, looking a bit green. “I think I preferred the beans.”
Then, we tackle the Gyusashi. The moment I see it, I know we're in trouble. It's basically raw red meat, and it's literally dripping blood. I've eaten my fair share of rare steaks, but this is on another level.
I take a tentative bite and immediately regret it. The taste of iron hits me like a punch to the mouth. The texture is chewy, almost rubbery, and with every bite, more blood oozes out. It drips down my chin, and I feel like I'm in some kind of vampire movie gone wrong.
That's it. I'm done. I spit it out, not even caring about looking tough anymore.
“Nope. That's where I draw the line. I'm out.”
Zack looks relieved, not even putting it in his mouth. “Oh, thank God. I thought you were gonna say I should try it.”
I shake my head, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Disgusting.”
We stare at the remaining sushi, a mix of relief and disgust on our faces.
“Well,” I say, closing the containers. “I don't know about you, but that was–” I shake my head. “I think I owe us both some real food. Dinner's on me.”
Zack looks at the pan he burnt his food on. “You don't have to tell me twice. Where to?”
“Anywhere that doesn't serve raw meat or fermented anything,” I reply, grabbing my keys. “I'm thinking greasy burgers and fries. Something to scrub the taste of whatever that was out of our mouths.”
Harvey calls me while we’re heading to Smokey’s for a burger and fries.
“What’s up, man?” I answer on speaker.
“Hey, where you at?”
“Grabbing some dinner with Zack. What’s going on?”
“So, I invited the girls to the game, and then I just invited them to the after party.”
“What, man?” I scoff. “What girls?”
“Amber and Jen.”
“Why?” I shake my head.
Zack looks over at me and whispers, “Amby?”
I ignore him, turning my attention back to the road. “Hey, Harv. Meet me at Smokey’s right now.”
“Right now?”
“Yeah, dude, right now. I have to talk to you.”
I pull into Smokey's parking lot, the smell of grease and burgers already making my mouth water. After that sushi fiasco, I'm ready for some good old-fashioned American grease on a plate.
“Dude, I can't believe we actually ate that stuff,” he groans.
I nod, grimacing at the memory. “Tell me about it. I think my taste buds are filing for divorce.”
We slide into a booth. The waitress saunters over, notepad in hand. I flash her a smile, enjoying the way her cheeks flush.
I say, “I'll take the biggest burger you've got, extra fries, and a chocolate shake.”
Zack orders the same, minus the shake. As the waitress walks away, he turns to me with a raised eyebrow. “So, who is Amby?”
I'm saved from answering by the arrival of Harvey. That was quick. He must’ve been on the road when he called. He slides into the booth next to Zack, looking confused and a little worried.
“Alright, I'm here,” he says, glancing between Zack and me. “What's the story?”
I hold up a finger, signaling him to wait as I flag down the waitress. “Let's get you some food first, man. Trust me, you're gonna need it for this conversation.”
Once Harvey places his order, he leans back, arms crossed. “Okay.”
I take a deep breath. “Amber.” I glance at Zack because it’s not Amby.
“What about her?” Harvey asks, impatiently. He seems to be on edge, not looking forward to what I’m about to say.
“We have history.”
Harvey's eyebrows shoot up. “History? Like, you dated?”
I can't help but snort at that. “God, no. More like enemies. We went to high school together. Her brother is my age, so I knew him fairly well by being in class with him. But we were never friends. He loved to party and do drugs.”
I watch Harvey's face carefully. His expression shifts from curiosity to disbelief as I explain about Amber's brother, Joey.
“This guy was a piece of work,” I say, shaking my head. “Always high, always causing trouble. And he hated my guts, probably because I had hockey, friends, whatever. You know me.”
Harvey's brow furrows, but he doesn't interrupt.
“Anyway, one day I'm walking down the hall, minding my own business, when I overhear Amber spilling all her family drama to her friends. I knew that she was his little sister, and I was sick of hearing about all the dumb shit he was doing. I'm talking real Jerry Springer stuff – the whole works.”
I don’t feel like telling him all the details because I’m not trying to embarrass Amber or reveal all her family problems, especially if they end up liking each other.
Harvey's eyes widen, his burger forgotten in front of him.
“So, because I was a young kid who couldn’t keep his mouth shut – I had shit going on with my mom – I told Amber to keep that drama to herself. You know, for her own good. Next thing I know, she's coming at me.”
Harvey's jaw drops. “Wait, what?”
I nod, not enjoying the memory particularly. I remember how it felt to be physically hit by someone I barely knew. That moment was imprinted in my brain.
“Yep. She bitch-slapped me first and then full-on attacked me. We ended up tumbling down the stairs. She got suspended, I had scratches all over my face, got a killer bruise on my side, and we've hated each other ever since.”
Harvey's sitting back now, arms crossed, a skeptical look on his face. His burger lies untouched.
Zack is eating his fries like popcorn as he listens.
“So, when you saw her at the Grind Stone?” he prompts.
“I tried to keep things cool, man. Water under the bridge and all that. But she couldn't let it go. And now...” I lean in, lowering my voice conspiratorially, “She's using you to get to me.”
Harvey's jaw clenches. “What do you mean, using me?”
I sigh. “I warned her not to, told her to leave you out of it. But she said she didn't care. That's why I've been pranking her, trying to get her to back off.”
“You’ve been pranking her?” Harvey scoffs.
“Yeah, and she’s pranking me back. Those guys checking out my truck earlier was because she put my truck online for sale.”
“What?” Harvey and Zack say.
“Dude,” Zack adds. “He had to pay two hundred bucks for sushi earlier. That’s why we’re here.”
“Yeah, well,” I include. “Nobody made us eat the sushi. It was pretty disgusting though.”
Harvey's silent for a long moment, processing. His eyes are darting back and forth, like he's replaying every interaction with Amber in his head. Finally, he shakes his head. “Matt, this is messed up. Why didn't you tell me?”
I shrug, aiming for nonchalant but hitting somewhere closer to guilty. “Didn't want to drag you into it. I didn’t know you’d be interested in her. But now that you've invited her to the game and the party, I don’t know.”
Harvey nods slowly, pushing his plate away. “Yeah, I get it. Thanks for looking out for me, I guess.”
“So,” I say, breaking the heavy silence that's fallen over our table. “What are you going to do about the invite?”
Harvey runs a hand through his hair, looking conflicted. “I don't know, bro. I can't just uninvite them, that's not cool.”
I nod, understanding. “Yeah, that would be a dick move. Maybe just... keep your distance at the party? I can run interference if you want.”
“Or we could just ghost them. Stop going to the Grind Stone. I’ll block her number.”
“Damn, you’d do that for me?” I joke, sort of.
He nods, finally digging into his food.
I shake my head. “Nah, don’t do that.”
“Why not?” he asks, confused.
“You have Jen’s number too?”
He nods.
“Perfect. I need you to do something for me.”