Another play with young characters! Definitely inspired here by my reading of Patricia Cornelius’s work, and I’m clearly emulating some of her style. Trying to, anyway!
And here’s my little script:
Night. An 18 y-o girl, Zoe, crouches in the grass, vomiting. Her friend, Sunny, stands nearby.
SUNNY: Zoe will feel better tomorrow.
She’ll be pissed off and confused, but it’ll drive her. She’ll roll out of bed, sweaty and seedy, snatching at her sneakers.
Eyes red, dry and narrowed.
Feet smacking out a rhythm on the road, finding the pace that matches her fury.
A whole hour, until her lungs are raw.
She’ll run and run and run.
And only after that will she grab her phone and start shooting.
Srsly, wtf happened?
And by evening, she’ll have her answers, she’ll be glowing, and she’ll be ready to make things right. That’s Zoe.
My best friend.
Mohan holds paper and pen.
MOHAN: They said do it.
Just write a note.
Romantic, I said.
Makes you look legit.
But I am.
You need to stand out.
She’s got hundreds.
See her instagram.
What do I say?
Keep her guessing
Gonna fuck her?
Romantic, I said.
On the hill
Behind the crowd.
No one watching.
Get her alone.
Do what you want.
Too loud to hear.
Gonna fuck her?
Tell her stuff.
Yeah, good eyes.
Girls want talk.
Tell her stuff
Actions speak, right?
Her hand in mine.
At the end.
See you at the fireworks.
Zoe and Sunny hanging out, getting ready, on their phones.
ZOE: Here it is… finally…
SUNNY: And you got…?
ZOE: Arghh, no way! All High Distinctions.
SUNNY: Knew it.
Sunny pulls out a gift for Zoe.
ZOE: What? You didn’t know.
SUNNY: I just knew.
ZOE: God, I’ve missed you this year. Missed your little button head, missed your crazy laugh, even when you laugh so hard you fart.
SUNNY: Missed you, too.
SUNNY: (to the audience) She’s gone north while I went south. Moved in with two guys, complete strangers. They have impromptu parties where people bring instruments, smoke and dance, and they’ve turned the garage into a graffiti studio. I moved into my cousin’s granny flat. I have met three wonderful study buddies who text me funny articles. We ironically make mix tapes for each other, and I kind of wish they were here.
ZOE: I feel like sex can be this separate thing. You can do it with anyone, as long as there’s respect there, and maybe it’s better if you don’t have feelings for them. It’s hard to explain.
ZOE: Don’t do that, Sunny! You know it’s going to happen eventually.
SUNNY: Obviously. I know I’m not going to still be a virgin at 45, but that doesn’t make it easier.
ZOE: One day it’ll just happen.
SUNNY: I don’t want it to ‘just happen.’ I want it to be the right thing to do at that time. With the right person.
ZOE: And he’s coming tonight?
SUNNY: (to the audience) One year reunion. All of us are back in town and we’ve decided to make new years a get together. At the pub by 10pm, walk up to the hill. Watch the fireworks at midnight. Toast to our survival.
And maybe to new beginnings.
ZOE: Go on, then, make a move!
SUNNY: No no no no no no.
ZOE: Talk to him, ask him about his course, tell him things, look in his eyes. It’s not really any harder than that.
DANIEL: Some guy called Mohan just dropped this letter off…?
ZOE: Oh my God, no way! Mohan?!?!! Fucking aye, Sunny. Look at that. You manifested that shit.
Sunny takes the letter from Daniel, and carefully opens it.
ZOE: Yeah, yeah, yeah??! What does it say?
SUNNY: (to the audience) It’s for Zoe.