Page 20 of Forever is the Sweetest Con
He smiles bashfully. He’s too skinny and awkward for my taste, but he’s got a pleasingly symmetrical face that the cameras will love.
“So, Garrett, our first guy out! How are you feeling?”
“I’m good, yeah, good,” he says directly to the cameraman hovering around him.
“Just talk to Natasha, okay, Garrett?” Tyler calls from the sidelines. “Forget the camera’s even there, man.”
Natasha shoots Tyler a look before turning her gaze back to Garrett. “I’m sure all the girls are dying to get to know you, so tell us about yourself.”
He clears his throat. “Um, hi, I’m Garrett. I’m twenty-seven and I’m from Seattle, where I work as a climate scientist.”
“Well, you must be excited to see this change in climate—I keep hearing about how this is the hottest and driest summer in, like, seventy years? How lucky are we?”
“It’s actually really bad news for the Arctic ecosystem, and—”
“Right!” Natasha interrupts. “Now, you’ve got this line of gorgeous girls here in front of you. Is there anyone who piques your interest?”
Garrett glances at us, and then averts his eyes, like he doesn’t want to be caught looking. “Um, I guessshe’sreally pretty,” he says, gesturing to Sue-Ellen. Of course she’d get picked first.
The hum of another quad steals the moment. “Ooh, they’re coming in hot!” Natasha says, clapping.
We hear him before we see him. “Let’s fucking goooo!” he yells, as he appears through the trees, an absolute snack of a man. He’s standingup on the four-wheeler, one hand overhead fist-pumping to an imaginary beat. His olive skin ripples over his abs, and his thick brown waves blow back, highlighting his perfectly chiseled face. He has a sleeve of tattoos down one arm and a tiny cross earring dangles from his left ear, which, on a lesser man would be an immediate Ick, but somehow on him is inexplicably sexy.
He hops off the quad, taking his time to size each of us up, looking as if he might lick his lips any second now. If I had to bet, I’d say he’s our Fuckboy.
“God bless America,” he says, winking at Natasha. Do I hear a bit of an accent?
“Ladies, meet Isaías!” Natasha yells, looking just as thrilled to have this gorgeous man in front of her as the rest of us are. “So, tell us a bit about yourself.”
He grins and hops up and down, like he’s shedding some nervous energy. “Wow,” he says, shaking his head. “You are all so beautiful.Wow.”
Wow is right. This guy ishot. I straighten my spine, narrowing my gaze on him and willing him to make eye contact. If I could get him to fall for me, then at least I wouldn’t have to fake the physical part.
“Isaías, why don’t you tell us about yourself ?” Natasha prompts him again.
“Oh, yes, sorry, I am distracted by these beautiful girls.” He pauses, rubbing his hands together.
“Go ahead,” Natasha says, a hint of impatience in her voice.
“Yes, okay! I am Isaías, but I know that is hard for Americans, so you can just call me Isa, like ‘Lisa,’ without the ‘L.’ I’m twenty-three, and I am from Madrid.” He pronounces itma-dreeth, which endears me to him even more.
“And as you look at these beautiful girls here, can you imagine falling in love with any of them?”
“I’m already in love with all of them.”
Definitely our Fuckboy.
“Anyone in particular catching your eye?”
“I like blondes,” he says, looking pointedly at Sue-Ellen, and then at me, which is confusing, until I remember that I’m blonde now.
“Ah, the Battle of the Blondes!” says Natasha with a cheeky grin. “What do you say, Sue-Ellen?”
“May the best blonde win,” she says, flippantly, like it’s clear who the best blonde is.
“Bring it on,” I say, through gritted teeth.
“A little rivalry already, love it! Ooh, what’s that I hear?” Natasha puts her hand up to her ear and leans toward the beach path. “Well,hello!”
