RYAN: Even if he wasn't -- you know -- honest with you... he still cared. He did make it to some of your games.

LUKE: Whatever. What does it matter?

RYAN: It matters. Especially if you had a dad who didn't make it to any of your games. Who didn't even know what sport you played. Or cared.

Luke looks at Ryan. Gets that Ryan's talking about himself...

LUKE: It's just. Everything's so screwed up...

And then they HEAR --

RON: Isn't this romantic? A couple o' Harbor Butt Pirates.

Luke and Ryan turn to see -- TWO GUYS in DEL VISTA SOCCER T-shirts standing over them (JAMIE and RON).

LUKE: Is there a problem? Besides the fact that we kick your ass every year?

RON: No, dude. No problem at all. Didn't mean to interrupt your date. (beat) Fag.

Luke gets up. Fired up. Shoves the guy.

LUKE: What did you call me?

RON: Yo, dude. Keep your hands off me. Save that for your boyfriend.

RYAN: (rising) Okay. Let's just. Not do this.

RON: What about a black eye for the queer guy?

Ryan shoves the guy back.

LUKE: You touch him? I'll kill you.

RON: (sybillant) Why don't you go run to your Daddy...

Ron shoves Luke harder. As everyone squares off --

Ryan and Luke look at each other. And then BAM! They deck both of their opponents. They drop. Ryan and Luke share a look -- realizing they just fought on the same side. A beat.

And then the door from the PIZZA PLACE swings open and SIX GUYS in DEL VISTA SOCCER shirts come out.

RYAN and LUKE share another look. Realizing. They're about to get the **** kicked out of them...

END ACT THREE.

(about eight pages later)

RYAN: (shielding his eyes) Who's that?

INT. COHEN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT (N3)

An anxious Frank Ward stands looking at his own reflection in the window -- when KIRSTEN'S REFLECTION appears behind him --

KIRSTEN: Frank -- are you sure I can't get you anything? Tea? Scotch? Xanax?

FRANK: (half-smiles at this) No. Thanks, though.

At which point, Sandy comes downstairs... alone.

FRANK: (CONT'D) He's not coming down...

SANDY: (shrugs, covering) He's half-asleep. Maybe it'd be better if you guys talked in the morning.

Frank shakes his head sadly. Knows better.

FRANK: He's not going to want to talk to me. He thinks I lied to him. To everyone. And he's right. I did. But the truth is? I love his mom. I always have. I love our family. I just didn't want to hurt anybody. And now... he's upstairs. Hurting.

SANDY: Listen, if there's anything we can do. If you want to press charges --

FRANK: No. I've embarrassed my family enough. The best thing I could do right now is just... disappear.

SANDY: That's the worst thing you could do. That's what you've been doing up till now. But coming out? Being honest? With yourself, with your family -- in this town? That's the bravest thing you could've done. It's just my opinion, but now you're exactly the kind of father any kid would be proud of.

Kirsten looks at Sandy -- moved. Frank nods, grateful.

FRANK: Well. I should go.

Frank turns to see -- LUKE -- standing barefoot at the bottom of the stairs. They eye each other shyly for a moment, then --

LUKE: Let me just grab my shoes. I'll go with you.

INT. COHEN HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT (N3)

Kirsten's at the stove, making tea, when Sandy enters.

KIRSTEN: So, while we're all being honest...

SANDY: Oh, God. There's more?

KIRSTEN: Well, that was a pretty inspiring speech you made in there.

SANDY: I am prone to impressive speeches.

KIRSTEN: Right up until that line, yeah.

SANDY: So, from now on, are you gonna tell me all your secrets?

KIRSTEN: Are you gonna tell me all of yours?

SANDY: I don't think I have any.

Thanks to Bliss at the Fanbolt.com Forum!