Page 36 of Script
This was anincrediblybad idea.
Also, I now know how it feels when I talk up other people’s dates, and yeah, I’m not a fan. Not that the guys were flirting with Finn, and who was I to say jack squat if they were, because me and Finn were friends with some hidden hot AF bennies, but the guys were buzzing around him like flies. As were the ladies. And the kids.
Finn was giving Thor-type speeches and, to be fair, doing a damn good impersonation of Chris Hemsworth. The kids were enthralled. Many were caught up in the role-playing and were pretending to be Captain America, Iron Man, and Black Widow. One rebel was quotingDeadpool, which got him a timeout from his mother and a glare for his dad from his wife for letting the little guy watchDeadpoolin the first place. Poor Alexie. He’d be flying back to Belarus with an irate spouse tomorrow. Unpleasant, to say the least. Which was why I didn’t do wives, or husbands, or significant others. Why deal with all that side crap when all a man wanted was to get laid, have a snack, and take a nap. Oh, and play hockey and—
The fuck? Was Zeetoo making eyes at Finn?
I leaned to the left to stare around someone blocking my view. It was widely known in and out of the locker room that Zeetoo was bisexual. He’d dated one of Ariana Grande’s backup dancers for the first year he was in LA, which caused a stir for about ten minutes, then the haters moved onto something else. Zeetoowaschecking out Thor’s hammer, the lech. I should just go over there and loop an arm around Finn to show—
“So did you get a rotten pepper?”
I snapped out of the ugly green fog of jealousy to find Charlie—sporting a damn good character look from theVikings TV show—staring at me curiously.
“What?” I asked, distracted by Zeetoo chuckling at something Finn had said. Granted, there were about twenty people surrounding Finn, including a pack of kids, but Zeetoo’s attention onmyman—and yes I wanted to call him mine—was a littletooattentive.
“The dip.” Charlie pointed to the glob of guacamole sitting on a chip about four inches from my mouth. How long had that been there? I stuffed the food in and chewed. “You were holding it and hovering, and I thought maybe you found a bad jalapeño.”
“Nope,” I said after swallowing. “Good dip.”
“Thanks, I got the recipe from Zeig’s wife, Rosa. She said her grandmother makes the best guac, and man was she right!”
“Totally the best dip,” I replied, listing to the left to try to see around our back-up goalie, Ryan Sahin --who was done up as Hiccup fromHow to Train Your Dragon, complete with a small Toothless stuffed dragon on his shoulder -- to find Finn but he had disappeared.
“I see you found Zeetoo.” I snarked and nodded his way.
Charlie’s smile dipped for a moment, but then he was nudging me and changing the subject.
“The kids love your date,” Charlie said. The comment hit me hard. My eyes flared as my head whipped in Charlie’s direction.
“He is not my date. Finn is not my date. We’re friends, that’s all. Why would you say that?” I replied with as much calm as I could muster. Charlie gave me a glance that screamed I was protesting too much. I chilled things down. “I mean, do I look like the kind of person Finn Kerrigan would date? Not that he’d date me because I’m a guy, and he’s straight, and… yeah.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean anything. We’re all queer here at the dip table,” he replied as he waved a hand at Prez loading his paper plate with a pile of chips accompanied by at least a pound of guacamole. Phillipe was standing next to our team captain spooning some taco dip onto his plate while trying his best to keep his horned helmet on his head. Zeetoo, the flirt, was not here because he was… where had he gone now? “I just asked because your eyes have been glued to Finn since you arrived.”
“No, they’re not,” I answered as I wiped my fingers on a napkin that readVALHALLA BOUND. Charlie went all-out for his parties.
“Yeah they are,” Prez and Phillippe chimed in.
I shot them death ray stares that didn’t even make them flinch. “No, they are not. Finn’s just shy and not used to big parties,” I lied.
Phillippe gawked at me. “A movie star who isn’t used to big parties?” he asked, his pretty French-Canadian accent at total odds with his faux fur cape and plastic-horned battle helm outfit. “Is that not a cross up or… how do you say it? Mix-up? Crossed purpose?” He sighed then repeated himself in French, which cleared things up not one bit.
All three men at the dip table stared at me as if I had a longship resting atop my head.
“No, it is not. Not everyone who’s an actor likes to be in big crowds,” I replied with a little more vinegar than I should have. Prez, Charlie, and Phillippe all exchanged looks, then began mumbling about how I was right, they were wrong, and lots of stars disliked being with the public and the price of fame. Brad Pitt, Harrison Ford, hell the list was as long as my arm of famous people who talked freely about how being famous was not all it was cracked up to be. “He’s straight. He’s just a friend. I’m training him for a hockey role he wants to win, and he’s helping me with my acting.”
“Good thing. Those last commercials you did were painful,” Prez said around a mouthful of spicy guacamole.
Charlie and Philippe nodded as they chewed.
“That is why we call you Pinocchio,” Phillippe interjected as his horned helm slid over his eyes. The air filled with French curse words. “Stupid hat,” he mumbled while shoving at his hat.
“Thank you for your kindness and supportive words,” I tossed out.
Prez snickered as I stalked off to find Finn with no ulterior motive other than to check that he was okay among this sea of snarky jocks who needed to mind their own beeswax, as my father liked to say. Dad was big on bee jokes. He had a few hives in the backyard. God I missed him, and Mom, and my sister.
And I maybe sort of missed my older brother, Lyle. Just maybe sort of.
I stopped by the bar and ordered two Cokes with lots of ice from the caterer Charlie had hired. She smiled, winked, and handed me two glasses of soda along with a slip of paper with her number on it. I nodded at the pretty redhead, then headed outside and dropped the phone number into a potted plant on the way out of the door. I found Zeetoo, half hidden behind a yucca, on his phone, his expression tense, his brow furrowed. At least, if he was out here staring at his phone, then he wasn’t messing with Finn.
