Night in the Ruts

Grilled Cheese - Nicky

A/N: Hello faithful readers!  I'm so so sorry that I've been quite the unreliable person lately... I was at camp and then vacation and school's staring in a week and things are getting crazy!  But have no fear, for an update is here.  For a recap: Charlie asked Nicky (her best friend) to be her pretend boyfriend so that she doesn't have to get involved with Steven.  She's not sure if she wants to yet.  So Nicky agreed and showed up at Charlie's house.  "Now, to the record store!"

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Hey.  I'm Nicholas Vi– No, that's lame.

        Wassup?  Nicky Vicky here– God, even worse!

      I have peanut butter crackers in my pants.  I'm allergic to peanuts... Yeah, that's a good way to start.

       Anway, I'm Nicky Vicky.  I know, I know, I have the coolest name in the whole United States of America.

        I love driving, too.  But Mom doesn't let me.  She says if I drive, then the world will end.   I really like orange Popsicles, mainly because they're the only color that tastes like the flavor.  Blue doesn't taste like blueberries, people just assume it does.  That's what's wrong with the world: we assume too much.  If I were president, the country would be the greatest country in the world.  Seriously.  I should run.

       My campaign: Legalize drugs!  Live the music!  Woodstock every single year!  Peace and happiness and Popsicles to all!

        I could totally win.  Charlie'd vote for me.

        Ah, yes.  My bestest friend in the world: Charlotte Taggart.  But don't call her Charlotte.  She'll kill you... Or kick you in the shins, which doesn't feel too great, might I add.  It's strictly Charlie or Shar.  I don't call her Shar, though.  I think it's weird that Shar is with an sh but Charlotte is spelled with a ch.  I mean, make it Sharlotte or Sharlie.  But then Charlie would be pronounced weird, and things would just be terrible.  Man, this is a good Popsicle.

        Why'd she ask me to be her boyfriend?  Maybe it's to make that douche Jake Renyolds jealous.  Who knows?  I don't really care as long as she buys me more music to live.

        If you haven't tried living music, you should.  It's the best thing ever.  I'm not kidding.  Everything's so surreal and you get in touch with your inner self and it's all real fuckin' trippy.  And you know what?  Light a candle while you're at it.  Yeah, it's great.

        Pardon my language.  But I don't really care.  I'm not allowed to express myself at Charlie's house.  Neither is she.  My mom gave up on me a long time ago.  But I never really come out of my room.  She (my mom) is not allowed in until I buy more air-freshener.  I keep that thing locked and electrified.  If anyone touches the door handle, they'll be shocked with the voltage from a train that used to go around and around our Christmas tree.  I rigged the handle!  Only I know how to turn it off.  I put the switch right under my door so that all you have to do is reach under with a Popsicle stick and flip it off.  Genius!

        Anyway, so I'm in Charlie's sister's car.  How do they look so different?  Like Jessie is smokin' and Charlie is... Not Jessie.  Jess hates it that I call her Jessie.  Whatever.  I mean, Charlie's pretty, but she doesn't like to show it.  I bet if she did, that douche–I mean Jakey–would be all over her.

        I don't know why, but I like people's names to end with -ie or -y.  It's a thing I have.  That, and it tends to drive people crazy because they haven't been called that since they were like eight or something crazy.