“Deep fryer? You guys went all out.”
“People always expect us to. And everyone wants the amazing fair food, so …” He rolls his eyes, chuckles, then slaps a box into my arms. I grunt under its weight, and Mr. Muscles asks, “Can you handle one more? Or two?”
The muscular wonder-boy that is Finn is sporting his usual tight polo tucked into a pair of khaki shorts, by the way. This guy is basically a peachy-skinned, sweet-faced dork-in-a-box with big biceps and chiseled abs he’s always too modest to show off, despite his hours upon hours spent in the gym. He also has short brown hair and welcoming eyes.
And now I’m carrying boxes of heavy stuff with him out to the back deck, where there is a whole row of vendors and food options lined up with a ton of fried and fair-themed goodies being served. One is a pair of deep fryers, being manned by Aaron, a guy who used to work at the Blue Coral Bakery before Malik fired him for adding salt to a batch of muffin mixture instead of sugar. Oops.
I notice right away an issue with the fryer. Actually: two. “Your temperature’s too high, and the oil’s too low.”
“No, it’s not,” snaps Aaron. “I know what I’m doing.”
I set down my boxes and get to fixing everything I see, despite Aaron’s protests. When I finish, I toss some pre-cut-up potatoes into the basket and lower it into the oil, then give Aaron a hearty pat on the back. “Now your fries won’t smoke in your face so much. You’re welcome.”
Finn pats me on the back. “See? I need your expertise over here! Hey, will you help me with the rest of the boxes in the kitchen? Should just be one or two more trips.”
How did I end up being put to work immediately after getting off of work? Still: “Sure thing, Finn.”
We make not one, not two, but six more trips. The whole time, I’m wiping sweat off of my brow—and Finn hasn’t even broken one yet. “We’re probably way over capacity and breaking a zillion fire codes,” he tells me as we take our last trip, “but even the firemen are here and, I dunno, if they’re not complaining, I guess we’re okay!” He lets out an exasperated laugh.
The guy has a storm cloud of stress that follows him every minute of every day due to his busybody nature of managing various aspects of the fair, mechanical and otherwise. I once saw him climb into the engine of the Merry-Go-Round with a wrench and a blowtorch. I have no clue what he did, but it fixed it, and there were a lot of happy children after that. But just minutes later, he was running to the other end of the pier to fix something else.
Even right now when he should be enjoying his own party, he’s fretting over fire codes and fryers.
This guy is a beast—a stressed beast.
Which is why he needs his emotional counterpart: a fellow named Theo. After taking our last load, Finn stops for ten seconds to check his phone when a guy, who at first glance looks like his twin, rushes up from behind and squeezes him. I’m not exaggerating about the twin thing. The guy is in a matching polo, also with khaki shorts, similar in build, and even almost has the same face, but with two shiny little exceptions: a piercing in his eyebrow and another in his lip—like tiny wicked rebellions against his otherwise clean-cut appearance.
Theo is Finn’s long-time boyfriend.
I can never quite remember how long the “long-time” is, but I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere they’ve been a thing since high school.
After the surprise-attack hug from behind, Theo tells Finn, “Hey, Marcus and Javier just showed up and they’re asking for you. I think it has something to do with some guy they want you to hire …?”
Finn pockets his phone. “I don’t even do the hiring anymore. That’s all Heather’s stuff now. You know what? Never mind. I’ll go talk to them.” He puts a peck on Theo’s cheek, then gives me a nod. “Gotta go handle this. Thanks for all your help!”
Something fizzles loudly in the fryer, and then the digital display shuts off. Aaron frets, banging the thing on the side with his fist, then looks at me for help.
Finn eyes me. I begrudgingly get the hint. “I’ll stay and figure this out.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Kent. I owe you! And hey, good luck finding your guy!” Then he hurries away.
Theo quirks an eyebrow at me. “You have a guy?”
I roll my eyes. “Better head off after your guy before you lose him again. Keep him calm, alright?”
Theo snorts. “Calm? Have you met Finn?” Then he takes off, and I’m left to deal with more fryer issues while Aaron watches over me, arms crossed and acting annoyed—but secretly curious about what’s wrong and how to fix it, watching me with interest.