Hot as Heller (Aster Valley 3)

“When, uh… when did you come out? Like… how did you handle all that?”

God, where did I even begin? My pause must have worried him, because he quickly added, “Not that you need to share that with me. I didn’t mean to ask something so personal or anything.”

I gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. I’ll tell you what. Agree to give me one hour to help you with your class and I’ll answer all of your questions about coming out. Sound good? We can meet up in the park on Saturday morning as long as no one recognizes me and interrupts us.”

I knew better than to arrange to meet a teenager in private somewhere, but I wasn’t sure what the alternative would be if we got mobbed.

He looked at me skeptically. “What’s in it for you? Why are you offering to help me like this? Am I some kind of charity case you’re going to…” He seemed to realize how rude the question was. “Sorry, it’s just… why would you do this for me?”

I swallowed my usual instinct to keep this geeky part of me to myself. “Teaching someone to love this stuff as much as I do would be pretty damned amazing.”

After exchanging cell numbers with Solo, I left the diner lighter than I’d entered it. Sure, there was still the pesky issue of a sheriff running hot and cold on me and a film director bound and determined to put me in harm’s way. But at least I had a teaching gig lined up for the weekend.

Chaos reigned on set when I arrived. I discovered we were starting primary filming on some of the climbing scenes sooner than I expected, so I met with the team to walk through the first scene on the ground several times and go over some of the technical issues involved in getting the angles Nolan wanted.

“We’ll only have the helicopter for a few hours on Monday, so we’ll need to get it shot without too many takes,” Shelly said.

I tried not to let the show runner’s words stress me out, but when she repeated the warning several more times throughout the day, it was hard to keep the pressure from getting to me.

I found a few spare minutes at the end of the day to ring Franklin and ask his advice on the best way to approach the thing with Solo.

“He said the first thing he needs help with is interpreting the use of the ghost in Hamlet.”

Franklin sighed over the line, his snobbish attitude as familiar to me as the “Brevity is the soul of wit” sign that hung crookedly above his desk in his cluttered campus office. “Lord, what fools these mortals be,” he muttered.

I barked out a laugh. “Dude, it’s small-town high school English class. The teacher probably doubles as the soccer coach.”

“Yes, yes, it’s going to be a question on the AP exam for all the same reasons. People are idiots. As for luring this kid over to the dark side, consider mentioning The Lion King as a modern-day Hamlet. That often blows the mind. What else? Oh. The Patrick Swayze ghost movie. The one with the pottery. What’s that one called?”

“Ghost.”

“Impertinent child,” he chided. “So it is. The use of ghosts to deliver messages from the main character to themselves is well-known, but perhaps not put in so many words for a teenager to have realized it before. I also suggest… what’s the one with Bruce Willis and the child?”

“Sixth Sense.”

“Yes, that one. If he’s seen it, you can discuss the use of spiritual communication. However, if he has not seen it, don’t spoil the damned thing for him.”

I loved that he wanted to protect a stranger from ruining a twenty-year-old film. “Okay.”

“And discuss the concept of conscience. Use Scrooge, etc.”

When we finished the call, I thanked him profusely for his help and told him I planned on taking him to lunch when I was back in LA in September.

“Promises, promises,” he muttered before hanging up. The conversation left me with a big smile on my face. Knowing Frank, he was secretly happy I’d come to him for advice. And he knew he’d be the first call I made as soon as I returned to the city from filming.

I was in such a good mood that I agreed to yet another night at the Roadhouse with the cast and crew. Even though Shelly had arranged for us all to have a private back room this time, it was still a huge mistake. Crystobell had brought a fashion vlogger with her and was busy chatting about clothes, but the vlogger had invited a man I recognized from a release party last year. He’d been on the arm of a gossip columnist.

I made a point to sit between Logan and Kix, but somehow after going to the bar to get refills, Kix had wound up on the other end of the long table talking to one of the fans Shelly had invited into our room as a special treat.