Triple Layer Nachos
Alec Lefeber

	The air was as cold as a Mountain Dew Baja Blast Freeze; it whirled around me in strong gusts, chilling me to the bone. Looking down at my hands, I realized that I was shivering, my hands trembling as they tried to slight the cold around them. With only a sweatshirt, jeans and a t-shirt, I was not adequately prepared for this weather. Just moments ago I had been so eager to leave, but now my body was yearning to be inside any building, anywhere.
	Our group passed by a Starbucks; a few stragglers decided that that was to be their destination, but the rest of us were forced to keep trudging on while the cold whipped us like a Premium Iced Coffee. Although I could feel the heat rapidly draining from my body, I knew that this was the correct decision. Our group marched on through the wet snow; it was brown with mud and it was littered with footsteps from other wanderers. Other people had made this trek before us. I wondered how they had fared.
	When the Starbucks was but a distant memory, it was then that we finally saw our destination. For us, the large purple bell was our personal Statue of Liberty, a friendly greeting to our new world. A world of warmth and a world of hope. I gazed upon the sign of the purple bell; underneath the bell were emblazoned letters that spelled out the words, “TACO BELL.” Although my body was still physically freezing, I felt the warmth of a Bacon A.M. Crunchwrap in my heart. In a world of desolation, there was something new. There was hope.
	Upon entering, I could feel my joints begin to thaw. There was a haze in the air as the sun shone through the window and illuminated the interior of the restaurant. The place was empty except for the workers and one lone person who was sitting in the back corner in the shadows, knawing silently on a Crunchy Taco and playing on his phone. It was only the glow of his phone that allowed me to see his face, which was distant and unprepared for the rush of high schoolers to invade the sanctitude of Taco Bell.
	To my right was my friend Ben Hively and next to him was my Criminal Justice teacher, Mr. Tom Mauthe, who was the one who had taken us on our field trip to prison that we had finally escaped from. Out of the cold, reality was coming back to me and I was able to focus on the important things in life: who I wanted to sit with and what I wanted to eat.
	As I waited in line for my turn to order (there were about ten other classmates in front of me), I analyzed the menu closely, thinking in particular about each item and if I thought that I would enjoy it or not. Being on a diet, I knew that it would have not been a good idea to order too much food, but the inner demons inside of me were asking for it. It was always a case of mind over matter; the problem with me was that matter usually beat the mind.
	After a wait of five minutes that seemed to be an eternity, finally it was my turn to order. Standing front of the employee at the front of the store, I became terrified as I realized I didn’t know what I wanted to order.
	“Uhh…,” I stammered; my eyes flew over the menu, dissecting it one final time. “I’ll get a Cheesy Potato Burrito. Just one.” My hand flew to my forehead and quickly removed the single bead of sweat that grew over me during my period of uncertainty. I was glad that that was over, and, I realized, I had made a healthy decision too! As healthy as a Cheesy Potato Burrito could be, that is. I patted myself on the back for not ordering an incredible sugary drink or buying three Doritos Locos Tacos; had I done that, people would have looked at me like I was a Loco Taco.
	I looked around the restaurant as my food was being prepared. The man in the back who had been on his phone earlier emerged from the shadows and was preparing to leave; I supposed that massive influx of high school students had turned him off from his Taco Bell experience. While I felt a pang of guilt, I knew that it wasn’t my fault that high schoolers were loud and obnoxious.
	The food finally arrived after probably two minutes of waiting, which was much too long for my impatient stomach. Quickly, I grabbed sole burrito and brought it to the table where the rest of my classmates were sitting. The scents of our food filtered into my nostrils, filling them with smells of not-quite-Mexican Mexican food. It was fast food at its finest, and it smelled like it, too. My sinuses reacted to the smell of someone’s hot sauce, and my mouth began salivating at the thought.
	To be honest, I had never been a fan of Taco Bell. It wasn’t my choice to come here; maybe in a different universe I had chosen the path of Starbucks and settled down with a coffee and a small, quiet group of friends. Instead I had chosen the path of least resistance so that my friends would be happy with me. I began to wonder what my life would have been like right now had I gone to Starbucks, but the thought quickly exited as fast as it had begun when I saw shadow cast over the table.
	“Hey guys,” called the voice that was all too familiar to me, “Is there any room for me?” Asked Mr. Mauthe.
	“Mauthe!” Ben cried, frantically looking around the table for a spare seat. To his dismay, there wasn’t. He looked back at Mauthe and scratched his forehead, trying to ease the awkwardness.
	“That’s okay,” Mr. Mauthe said with a small frown on his face. The sight of Mr. Mauthe’s saddened face made my stomach curdle like a Cheesy Gordita Crunch. Like the runt of the litter, Mr. Mauthe fled off to sit at another table, all alone. As he unwrapped his Chili Cheese Burrito in silence, I knew what had to be done. My friends had abandoned the one person who mattered the most - the one who had brought us all together. I felt obligated to make it up, for all that he had done for us. For all that he had done for me.
	I rose from my seat - the rest of my friends grew smaller as I walked away from them, and until all that I could see was Mr. Mauthe. I sat down opposite him without asking permission first, knowing by instinct that he would approve of me sitting next to him.
	“Howdy,” I said, smiling. If I had a hat I would have tipped it off to him. From this angle, Mr. Mauthe was pressed against the sunlight, so that his face was completely engulfed in a silhouette so dark it rivaled a Black Bean Burrito.
	At my entrance, Mr. Mauthe immediately buried his face inside both of his hands. “Oh no...not you,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head back and forth from the comfort of his hands. I could tell that he was so overjoyed to have me as company that he was delirious. I understood completely; I’ve been known to have that effect on people.
	When Mr. Mauthe finally removed his face from his hands, he looked at me and gave a very vague “Hello” in return. I smiled, and I began to enjoy my food as Mr. Mauthe began to enjoy my company.
	As the course of our little lunch date wore on, some barriers between us began to break. Mr. Mauthe told me a little about his life, and I gave him the inside scoop on all of the happenings in my life that had turned me into the person that I was today. Although our lunch together was only about twenty-five minutes, in those twenty-five minutes we transgressed the barrier between teacher and student and sat together as friends at Taco Bell. I knew that because of Mr. Mauthe’s career, this would end the moment that we exited the restaurant, but it was nice while it lasted and I savored it for as long as I could before we had to venture back into our societal roles.
	Despite the lunch only lasting twenty-five minutes, when it was over I swore that the sun had moved just enough to illuminate Mr. Mauthe’s face - I could finally see the creases of the smile that he wore upon his face, but there was something else behind it. There was a look of familiarity in his face, as though he were looking not as a student, and not as a friend...but in a mirror. He looked at me as though he were seeing a younger Tom Mauthe; we had similar traits, but I was someone with ambition and potential, something that he had lost along the way.
	Mr. Mauthe stood up to announce to the rest of my classmates that it was time to go and head back to the bus and return to school. My friends, almost glittering in the sunlight before, were now immersed in shadow. I was worried to return to the outdoors, back into the bitter cold as we wandered to the buses, but as we came outside I found myself surprised. The sun was shining, and although it was cold, the sunlight dove into the top layer of my skin head-first and filled me with warmth. This day was like a Mango BBQ Crispy Chicken Griller - at first, it sounded revolting, but as I dove into it I realized it wasn’t all that bad.