I laughed despite myself.
“Glad you think it’s funny,” she said. “I always say it’s the polite ones you’ve got to watch out for. Also, please don’t kill me.”
“Kill you for what?” I said.
“Hey Lil, I see you found my date.” Turning my head, I caught Chaz Neely checking out my ass.
Hooker glared at Chaz while I glared at her. This couldn’t be happening.
“I told you not to call her that,” she said.
Chaz held up both hands. “Sorry, man, I forgot.” To me, he said, “Love the hair by the way. It really gives you something, almost makes you look hot.”
I glared harder as Hooker slammed a palm against her forehead.
“She’s actually my date and she’s already hot,” Austin said a little red in the face. “Don’t listen to him, Sally. You’re definitely hotter than most, if not one of the hottest girls around.”
As much as I enjoyed hearing Austin defend my level of hotness, I was ready to end this conversation and go watch the movie. I didn’t think Hooker could top the Daisy fiasco, but it was no contest. This was officially my most uncomfortable date ever.
“Shall we? It’s nearly midnight.” Not waiting for an answer, I dragged Hooker to the second theater on the right, my two dates trailing after us. “Tell me you didn’t.”
“I wanted you to have a wider selection,” she explained. “Two guys, one date, double the chance of success. Isn’t it genius? This way you can choose: smart and dorky—again, basically you in boy form—or hot and…well hot.”
“You so owe me for this.”
“I know, I know,” she said, eyes sparkling. “But it’ll definitely give you something to put in that journal of yours. And hey, kudos on the sex hair. I’m so jealous. Mine would never do that.”
I nearly tripped. “What?”
Hooker nodded. “That’s a great look for you. Now all we need to do is find a better bra to give the girls a little pick-me-up, and you’re home free.”
Rolling my eyes, I walked down the aisle, feeling queasy. Bra support was the least of my problems. That much was clear even before the previews started.
I ended up seated between Austin and Chaz. The first offered me the armrest, asked if my seat was comfortable enough, wanted to know if I needed anything from the concession stand. By the tenth question—Why do people like the X-Men, anyway? Justice League is so much cooler—I’d had about enough. Movies were not talk time, and the incessant questions had to stop. Besides, everyone knew there was no comparison. Members of the Justice League were just X-Men wannabes, plain and simple. With him whispering in my ear every five seconds, I could barely hear the movie.
Chaz, though not as loquacious, was just as exasperating but for different reasons. He kept trying to put his hand on my thigh no matter how many times I swatted it away. His constant attempts to try and look down my shirt resulted in me leaning so close to Austin that, at one point, we’d ended up bumping heads. Thwarted, Chaz slumped back in his seat and told me to go buy him a large coke and popcorn with extra butter. Hearing him, Austin got upset, called him a douche, and the two started arguing back and forth with me trapped in the middle.
The fighting didn’t stop until one of the security guys came over and threatened to throw us out. After that it was, thankfully, quiet. But by then the movie was almost over.
As the credits rolled, Chaz stretched then said, “So, I guess it’s true what they say, Spitz. You really are uptight.”
I whipped around. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Uptight,” he said again. “You know, frigid.”
“Who says that?” I asked in disbelief. I was glad Austin was somewhere down the row looking for his cell. He’d dropped it during the movie. I didn’t want anyone else hearing this.
“People.” Chaz shrugged. “Lillian said you were pretty desperate.”
Hooker had some major explaining to do.
“Ich bin nicht das, was Du gerade über mich gesagt hast,” I hissed. “Und Du bist ein Idiot.” Going by the confused look on his face, I may or may not have said all that in German. Plus or minus, a few swear words.
“Whatever.”
And then he was gone. Good thing, too, because I was about two seconds away from using that left hook Becks had taught me.
“So,” Hooker said, gliding up to me, “how’d it go?”
Brows raised, I rounded on her. “You told him I was desperate?”
Her eyes widened. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
“Hooker,” I groaned.