Call the Shots (37 page)

“Yeah.” She smiles and gives my knee another squeeze. “It’s great, huh?”

“For sure.” I nod. “Really great. Which is why . . . I — I thought maybe . . . when you texted me . . . on Valentine’s Day . . .” My face flames as I see the words in front of me, just waiting to be blurted out. All ready to make a bad situation infinitely more awkward. But my brain’s right. I need to grow some balls. So it’s either say what I want to say or skulk off with my tail between my legs. Yet again. “I thought maybe you might want to go out? With me? You and me? Going out.”

Leyna smiles again, but this time it seems kind of forced. Like acting. Bad acting. “You mean, like, out to coffee?”

“Uhh.” I gulp. She’s gonna make me say it. “No . . . Not like that. Like, you know, something . . .
more
than coffee.”

“Like coffee and a donut?” she says. Is it just me, or is that a hint of hopefulness I detect in her voice?

“No, I mean, like
going
out. Like, dating.”

“Oh, Sean.” She leans away. Not a good sign. “I’m really confused. I thought . . . God, this is . . . I mean . . . I thought . . . I thought you were . . . gay.”

I jerk backward like she’s just smacked me in the face with a sock full of oranges. “What? Why would you . . . Did my sister tell you that?”

“You have a sister?”

“A twin sister. Cathy. Yes. She thinks I’m gay too.” Every muscle in my body has tensed.

“Yeah, well, aren’t you?” Leyna asks. “I mean, you’re sweet. You’re sensitive. You’re in drama. I don’t know. You
seem
gay. I guess I just sort of . . . assumed.”

“Well, you assumed wrong. Way wrong. Like . . . completely wrong. I’m not gay. I mean, I’m a guy and I can barely tolerate being around myself. I like girls. A lot. I like
you.
A lot. Okay?”

“Yeah. No. I get it.” She cocks her head. “I like you a lot too. But . . .” And there it is. The
but
we’ve both been waiting for. “Just . . . not in that way. I’m really sorry, Sean, I didn’t mean —”

“Sorry? Why would you be sorry? There’s no need for that . . . for you to be sorry. It’s not —” I give a loud lip fart. “Sorry. I mean, what’s that about?”

Leyna laughs nervously. “So you’re not . . . You’re not upset?”

“What? Upset? No, definitely not. I knew it was a long shot. I mean, we’re nothing alike, really, when you think about it. You want to be an actor and I . . .” told her I wanted to be an actor too. “Uh, I have to focus on my screenwriting, you know? It’s just . . . not a good time. For me, I mean. But thanks anyway.”

Jeez Louise, did I just thank her? Like she was the one asking
me
out? Time to abort this mission, Seanie boy. Way
past
time. I hoist myself to my feet.

“Well, I’m glad I could help with . . . uh . . . Muffin,” I say, gesturing at the dog, still not able to comfortably look at it. “Enjoy the rest of your Saturday. And, uh, I guess I’ll be in touch soon . . . about the movie? If you’re still in, I mean?”

“Yeah, for sure. Listen, Sean, I really am so —”

“No, no. No need for that. I’ll just . . . let myself out. I remember the way.” I laugh loudly, pointing at the front door, which is about ten feet from the couch. “See you . . . See you Monday. Bye, Muffin.”

“Bye, Sean.”

I book it out of there, my face and ears red-hot. Good God, I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that I’ve just been totally blown off by Leyna, the fact that she thought I was gay, or the fact that the only thing that has given me comfort lately turns out to be a picture of a little dog’s anus.

As I hop on my bike and pedal like mad for home, I try to think of what the hell I can tell the guys — other than the truth, obviously. Because even though I know they’d both take a bullet for me if asked, there’s no way they’re ever going to let me live this one down.

“W
AIT A SECOND,” COOP SAYS
as we ride our bikes to school on Monday. “I don’t get something. If Leyna thought you were gay”— he nearly chokes with laughter just saying it, just like he’s done the last three hundred times he’s said it —“then why would she send you a picture of her hobgoblin?”

“Because she
didn’t,
nosebag.” I sigh. I spent most of Sunday coming up with cover stories, each one getting more and more elaborate and dramatic until I was the one turning Leyna down, telling her that she obviously had some deep-seated issues regarding her self-respect and that I was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of that fact. But I’ve never been very good at lying. And especially not to my friends.

And so I finally decide it’ll be less painful in the long run if I just get this over with now.

“It wasn’t her . . . hobgoblin,” I repeat. “Muffin is the name of her dog. It was a shot of Muffin the dog, of its rash. Leyna wanted me to diagnose it.” No need to mention where the rash was, exactly.

“Seriously?” Coop looks mystified. “I could have sworn it was a shot of her gravy boat.”

“So”— Matt raises his eyebrows at Coop —“
obviously
you don’t know the female anatomy as well as you thought.”

“Please,” Coop says. “It’s an honest mistake. Anyone could make it. Are you sure it was the dog, dude?” Coop asks me. “I mean, I’ve seen dogs before. Lots of times. And none of them ever looked like —”

“It was definitely the dog,” I assure him, starting to sweat. “I mean, I saw the rash in person when I got there. Trust me, it was the dog.”

“I believe you, Sean-o. I mean, why would you tell us it was a picture of a dog’s rash if it was actually Leyna’s love gully? Still, I find it hard to believe. It totally looked like a —”

“It was the anus, okay?” I blurt. “The rash was on Muffin’s anus. Happy now?”

Coop and Matt both skid to a halt.

Look at each other.

And then kill themselves laughing.

“Oh, no,” Coop splutters. “Oh, Seanster, no. You can’t be serious? That is odious, dude.”

“Man, Sean, that’s . . . wow.” Matt’s trying his best to control his laughter and sound sympathetic, but he’s failing. Big-time.

Coop is still bent over with laughter. But suddenly he straightens. “Shit, dude. Tell me you didn’t . . . Oh, Sean-o, please tell me you didn’t scratch Yoda behind the ears looking at that picture?” He holds his breath waiting for my response.

“Pfff, right.” I look off into the distance. “I was never convinced in the first place.”

“Oh, my
God.
” Coop turns to Matt. “Our best bud mangled his midget gawking at a shot of a dog’s anus.
That
is absolutely grievous!”

He leans over and fist-bumps Matt as they double over with laughter again.

“Okay, okay, wait,” Matt says, trying to catch his breath. “Is Muffin a boy or a girl?”

I glare at him. “Are you done?” I hop up on my bike seat and start pedaling.

The guys follow.

“That’s a good question you pose there, Mattie,” Coop sputters. “Because if it was a girl dog, well, that’s bad enough. But if he used a shot of a
guy
dog —”

“She’s a girl,” I snap. “And it doesn’t matter because I didn’t ‘use’ that picture for anything, okay?”

The guys are still going on about it as we turn into the school parking lot and coast our bikes up to the racks. I jump off and start locking up my front wheel.

The sun is glaring in the sky this morning. So much so that it hurts my eyes. It’s like someone removed a layer of the atmosphere or something.

“Don’t worry, Sean-o.” Coop snorts. “Your dirty little secret’s safe with us.”

“Right, whatever. You guys can get your jollies thinking whatever twisted things you want.” My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and read the text from Leyna. “Perfect. Things just keep getting better and better.”

“What’s up?” Matt asks, clicking his bike lock shut.

“Leyna just quit the movie.” I wave my phone at them. “She just texted.”

“Did she send along another shot of her dog’s sphinc?” Coop asks.

“No.” I sigh. “She just said she’s ‘thought it over’ and she’s ‘uncomfortable working with me’ now that she knows I like her.”

Coop raises his eyebrows. “Think how uncomfortable she’d be if she knew what you were doing with that picture of her dog’s butthole.”

I flip Coop the bird, then say, “Well, that’s it. It’s really over now.”

“What’s over?” Helen asks, strolling up with Val.

“Our movie.” I stare off at all the trees and flowers that are blooming. Green, yellow, red, blue. Bright colors everywhere. Mocking me and my miserable life.

“I thought we decided to shoot it on our cell phones,” Valerie says.

“We did,” Matt explains. “But now Leyna’s just dropped out.”

“Which is terribly unfortunate.” Coop reaches into his backpack and pulls out a Three Musketeers bar. “But here’s the silver lining. I no longer have to worry about how I’m going to look on the cover of
Entertainment Weekly.
” He unwraps the candy bar and takes a big bite. “Oh, you sweet nougaty goodness, how I missed ye.”

“It doesn’t have to be over,” Helen says. “I could do it. Play Nashira, I mean.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Coop gestures with his candy. “I’m not about to have you spending all that QT with Hunter. No way, no how.”

“I’m not like you, sweetie. I can remain professional while in the presence of someone of the opposite sex who also happens to be very attractive.”

“Aha!” Coop says. “So you admit that you find Hunter attractive?”

Helen looks anything but flustered. “The very fact that you have to ask me that means that you haven’t noticed if I found him attractive. Which means that I can behave myself around hot guys. Unlike you with Chesty McBreastington during the auditions.”

Coop sighs, knowing when he’s been beaten. “Do you need me to blind myself? Is that what it’s going to take for you to get over this?” He wields the Three Musketeers in front of his eyes. “’Cause I’ll do it.”

“Aw, honey.” Helen reaches over and pinches Coop’s cheek. “I’m
way
over it. I just like to torment you every once in a while.”

“Seriously,” Valerie says. “You didn’t think we were actually bothered by that, did you?”

Matt laughs. “No. Of course not. And we didn’t buy you ice cream because we thought you were bothered by our behavior. We’re just really thoughtful guys.”

Valerie slips her arm around Matt’s waist and snuggles up against him.

“Seriously, though,” Helen says, “I’d be happy to act in the movie. It’d be fun.”

“Thanks,” I say. “But to be honest, I doubt Hunter’s going to want to be in the movie now that Leyna’s bailed. I mean, we’d have to start all over again. And it’s not like we’re paying Hunter for his time. Or that we can even afford to.” I sigh. “Let’s face it: the movie’s dead.”

As is my shot of ever finding a cool girlfriend.

Someone who teases me about my own wandering eyes.

God. Who knew I’d even be jealous of
that
?

“H
EY, SO, WHAT’S THE DEAL?”
Nessa’s voice sounds slightly irritated over the phone.

“What’s the deal with what?” I ask.

“Why haven’t you called me?” she says.

“I was grounded for a month. Didn’t Cathy tell you?” I adjust myself on my bed and click through my Facebook page for the first time in weeks.

“Of course she told me.” Nessa laughs. “Are you kidding me? She was counting down the days. It was driving her nuts that you were always in her room.”

“
Our
room,” I clarify. Whoa, Aaron Altman ate a whole box of Raspberry Zingers without hurling. I’m, like, the last person to “Like” that. Sean Hance, always late to the party.

“Yeah, but you’ve been free for a week. So, what, you hate me now?”

“I don’t hate you, Nessa.” I close the screen on my laptop. “It’s just . . . We’re not doing the movie anymore, so I guess I didn’t —”

“Wait, what? Why not?”

“Oh, God. It’s a long story.”

“And one I deserve to hear, don’t you think? I’ve put a lot of work into this screenplay, and I’ve spent the last five weeks jotting down new scenes. I think I’ve got a pretty good ending written here, if I do say so myself.”

“Wow, I had no idea you were still working on it. Sorry . . . I guess I should have told you sooner.”