5. Pepper Ketchup & Ice Cream #2
Bridger jokingly struck a stance with his skateboard behind his head as if vogueing for the cover of Thrasher or something. He then twisted into a Herculean pose, arms curled like a bodybuilder’s.
“Stop it,” Gus laughed, throwing a french fry at Bridger.
“I need ice cream,” Bridger said, chuckling as he lowered his arms.
Gus guarded their boards as Bridger left to get them both dessert at the counter.
He watched Bridger waiting in line. Even just standing there doing nothing, Bridger was effortlessly attractive.
Gus picked up a colored pencil, tracing the curve of his sharp jawline, thick eyebrows, and disheveled but stylish hair, and gradually a sketch of Bridger took shape on the page.
Gus turned his focus to the ripped-off sleeves of Bridger’s T-shirt, the armholes of the deep red material gaping to reveal a toned tan torso underneath.
His chest still gleamed with sweat from skating to the diner.
It trickled down to where Gus knew that brown hair lay, a fuzzy path that disappeared below his waistband. Gus’s grip on his pencil loosened.
“Found your muse, Art Boy?”
Gus jumped. He turned to see Tara standing behind him holding some chili cheese fries. This time, instead of the skater gear he was used to her wearing, she had her braided hair down and wore a checkered denim skirt and cropped lilac tee. She held a journal and a pen under her fries.
Tara nodded over to Bridger in the ice cream line. “Looks like you two are becoming friends after all.”
“Oh. I don’t know if he’s my actual friend,” Gus deflected. “We just have this deal where—”
Tara chuckled wistfully to interrupt him and gestured to Bridger at the cashier.
“If he’s getting you ice cream, and you’re drawing him…” Tara trailed off, glancing down at Gus’s sketch. He tried to cover the drawing. Tara raised her eyebrow and gave him a smirk. “…then he’s, at the bare minimum, your friend,” Tara finished. “Let me see.”
Gus relented and Tara leaned over to view the simple sketch.
“We were just skating,” Gus replied, “and came here because we’re hungry.”
“Seems like it,” Tara quipped, flashing a teasing smile.
Gus shrunk in perplexed embarrassment, not knowing what to say in response. At the same time, Bridger turned to look from the cash register toward their table and spotted Gus with Tara. His face lifted with sly shock and pride as he paused in the distance to watch without interrupting.
“We haven’t said we’re friends yet,” Gus admitted awkwardly.
Tara hopped onto the table. “You don’t have to ask someone to be your friend. You just feel it.” She smiled. “I’m Tara, by the way.”
“I’m Gus… are you writing something?” he asked, indicating the journal in Tara’s arms.
“These are my notes.”
“For what?”
“I have a job interview tonight,” Tara explained. “Trying to make use of my computer science degree somehow.”
“That’s cool! I’m going to art school in Rhode Island this fall,” Gus shared.
“Art college? Good!” Tara said. “Glad you won’t be stuck in this podunk town like everyone else.”
“It’s not that bad here,” Gus defended with a grin.
“Easy for you, white boy. I’m the only Black girl for miles,” Tara joked.
Gus realized Tara was the only other person in town beyond Bridger who wanted to talk with him. She was so bold and interesting, unlike Gus himself. He wished he could be like her, have the same confidence she did. So why me? Why is she talking to me?
“I just need something new.” Tara breathed in slowly. She looked up and shook her head, seemingly lost in thought. Gus watched as she seemed to exhale years of tension. “I figure, maybe a coding job in California can get me out of here,” she said. “Plus, the skate scene in LA is way better.”
They both laughed, sharing smiles like old friends.
“I’ve never been to a big city like that,” Gus remarked. “Sounds amazing.”
Tara paused and took in Gus. He was so kind and gentle-natured—different from all the other boys in Livingston.
“You will. We both will,” Tara said, holding Gus’s gaze like a promise.
Back at the counter, Bridger’s expression turned to something both unsure and eager as he privately watched Gus with the hot older college girl. He tried to correct his face when he caught Gus looking over.
Tara turned from Gus, following his line of sight to Bridger, now holding two ice cream cones. She smiled somberly as she twisted back to Gus. “Not everyone’s like Bridger. People aren’t very accepting here.” She hesitated. “If you ever need advice… let me know.”
Gus tilted his head in curiosity, not sure what she meant.
Behind Tara, a car turned on, music blaring from the open windows as it backed up.
Inside were a couple of older-looking girls—more of Tara’s friends.
Some had skateboards, some had books, but all of them had chili cheese fries just like Tara.
“Tara!” one of them blurted out. “We gotta go!”
Tara whipped around and her face lit up.
“One sec!” Tara called out to her friends before beaming back at Gus. “You’ll build your own real crew one day. Don’t settle for anything less. Okay, Gus?”
Gus nodded in acknowledgment but somehow felt like he’d missed something she was trying to tell him.
“See you around. Enjoy your… friend,” Tara remarked jauntily as she popped a final chili cheese fry into her mouth.
She twisted to leave and hopped into the car with her girls. An Avril Lavigne song faded into the distance as they drove off. Immediately, Bridger rushed up to Gus from the sidelines with the cones.
“Dude! How the hell did you get Tara Shae to talk to you?” Bridger exclaimed.
“I don’t know, she came up to me both times,” Gus replied.
“Both times?! She talked to you twice?”
“Wait, no. Three. I ran into her at TJ’s, too.”
Bridger coughed with delight, almost dropping the ice cream in his hands. “Gus, Tara’s the hottest girl in town and she skates! All the guys cream their pants when she walks by.”
Gus laughed. “Really?”
“I gotta tell the guys. They’re gonna think you’re a god!” Bridger boasted.
“She seems to like me and I’m not doing anything.” Gus shrugged.
“It’s the art—your sketches. You’re a total babe magnet,” Bridger chided, pushing Gus’s head with his forearm.
Gus laughed again as Bridger nodded with satisfaction, pride, and newfound respect.
“How much for the ice cream cone?” Gus asked.
“It’s on me, dude. You’ve earned it,” Bridger replied.
Gus closed his sketchbook on the unfinished drawing of Bridger and accepted the congratulatory ice cream cone the skater boy handed him. Bridger sat down on Gus’s side of the red wooden picnic table and they enjoyed their desserts together.
~
That evening, Bridger invited Gus to his favorite lake just outside town to go swimming.
As soon as they pulled up to the waterfront, Gus watched as Bridger raced toward the water and confidently ripped off all his clothes down to his underwear.
He jumped off the dock and cannonballed into the water, carefree.
Gus delayed joining. He slowly unlaced his shoes and shyly took off his shirt on the dock.
“C’mon!” Bridger called out from the water. “Jump in!”
“Is it cold?” Gus asked nervously as he sat down on the wooden ledge.
“Don’t be a pussy! Stop thinking and just have fun!” Bridger reached up and yanked on Gus’s arm, dragging him into the lake.
Gus yelped as they both sank underwater. He forced his eyes shut as a frigid wet shock engulfed his entire body. He shot back up to the surface quickly, wiping water out of his eyes.
“Bridger!” Gus yelled, splashing him. Bridger splashed back.
“What? It worked! No more nerves.” Bridger floated in closer. “You’re here now.”
Gus’s teeth chattered and Bridger laughed. A double image of both boys reflected in the level surface of the lake as they treaded water. They both broke out into grins.
The boys swam, splashed, and dunked each other in the lake until they’d had their fill and settled on the wooden dock to rest and chat.
The world was still and quiet around them as they lay there, spent and shirtless in their wet underwear.
The glow of the evening sun cascaded over the mountains onto the lake and warmed their skin.
Gus was hyperaware of Bridger’s half-naked body beside him.
It was so close he could actually touch it. Don’t look down, Gus told himself.
However, while Bridger told a funny story about the last time he came to this lake with his buddies Coop, Avery, and Bennet, Gus couldn’t help but follow the beads of water dripping down his friend’s defined stomach.
Gus watched each ab flex in turn when Bridger laughed. Why don’t my muscles do that?