Lights up on a drawing room. Boy enters from stage right as Girl enters from stage left.
Boy: (Tying a tie) Terrific, I’ve found you.
Girl: I was looking for you.
Boy: Do you think this tie makes me look charming?
Girl: It clashes with your face.
Boy: (Good-humoredly) You’re right. I’m too good looking. Purple would bring out my eyes.
Girl: So I wanted to tell you—
Boy: (Loosening the tie) Big day! My mother always said I was born to play Hamlet.
Girl: —that I’m leaving.
Boy: (Offering his cheek) Well, plant one on me before you go. And wish me luck. Oh, remember Lost is on tonight!
Girl: (She doesn’t kiss him.) You’ll have to watch it by yourself.
Boy: But I hate watching it by myself! It’s scary.
Girl: I won’t be here.
Boy: I guess I’ll have to TiVo it then, if you’re working late.
Girl: I’m not working late. I’m leaving you.
Boy: Well if you’re not working late then why the hell are you leaving me to watch Lost all by myself?
Girl: Because I’m breaking up with you.
Boy: Breaking up with me?
Girl: Yes.
Beat.
Boy: So you’re saying you wanna take a break?
Girl: No. I want to break up.
Boy: Temporarily?
Girl: No. Permanently.
Boy: But that’s a long time.
Girl: I know. But I don’t love you anymore.
Boy: You don’t.
Girl: (Softly) No.
Boy: (Fidgeting with his tie) You loved me last night.
Girl: I made love to you last night. There’s a difference.
Boy: So, let me get this straight. You made love to me, but you don’t love me, and now you’re breaking up with me.
Girl: I’m sorry, but that’s-- well, yeah, that’s pretty much it.
Beat. He musters up his courage and resolve.
Boy: Well, I say no.
Girl: Come again?
Boy: No. My answer is no.
Girl: Your answer is no to what?
Boy: I refuse to accept the break-up.
Girl: I think you’ve missed the—you don’t really have a choice.
Boy: If you have a choice, then I have a choice.
Girl: That’s not how it works. I don’t want to be with you anymore.
Boy: And I still want to be with you, so agree to disagree.
Girl: You’re impossible. I’m leaving.
Boy: It’s really unfair of you to do this now.
Girl: I’m sorry—
Boy: Right when we’re starting to get somewhere. What horrible timing.
Girl: Is there ever a good time?
Boy: If you had thought reeeeeeally hard, I bet you could’ve found a better one.
Girl: Please don’t be this way. It just wasn’t working.
Boy: Why don’t you be honest with me.
Girl: I am being honest.
Boy: It’s my back, isn’t it. It’s too hairy. You never want to touch it.
Girl: It’s not about your back.
Boy: Or my breath? Because of my infatuation with garlic?
Girl: No, no, no, garlic has nothing to do with it.
Boy: (Desperate) Then would you please tell me WHAT you find to be so despicable about me that would push you over the edge, cause you to go to such extremes, make you BREAK UP with me?
Girl: It’s nothing about you in particular. You’re a great guy, you really are. I’m just—not in love with you.
Boy: But, I thought—
Girl: (Gently) I know, I know what you thought. I thought so, too. I wish...
(Beat. She sighs.)
I don’t know what I wish.
Boy: How about—how about I skip this audition. Let’s go to the river and eat watermelon. It’s hot enough outside. We can spit the seeds into the water and try to hit the ducks. Your favorite.
Girl: I don’t want to eat any watermelon.
Boy: We can just stroll along the pier then. Make fun of the parents who walk their kids on leashes.
Girl: What will it take to get through to you?
Boy: You’ve gotten through to me, loud and clear. In fact, you’re so loud and clear that any ordinary guy would’ve given up. But I’m no ordinary guy, and you’re definitely no ordinary girl, and I’m not giving up!
Girl: But you should give up! I don’t love you. I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s the truth. Have some dignity, some self-respect, and let me go.
Boy: (An attempt at boldness) I do have self-respect. I am awesome. My friends and my mother—they think I’m awesome. You did, too, once. Or so I thought. And I’m confident that if you stay with me, you’ll see again that I’m awesome, and you’ll remember why you fell in love with me.
Girl: I have to go. Goodbye.
She heads to the door. He sprints after her and blocks her exit.
Girl: Really. You’re going to block the door.
Boy: That’s my plan, yes.
Girl: Come on, you’re being… pathetic. Let me go.
Boy: You say pathetic, but I say perseverant.
Girl: Well, now I say you’re insane.
Boy: The best ideas come from moments of insanity.
Girl: I’m pretty sure that’s false.
Boy: Insane or not, I have a great idea.
Girl: I pray it involves moving away from the door.
Boy: It does, actually. After you.
Girl: I can’t move with you standing there.
Boy: I meant after you move to the couch.
Girl: Move to the couch?! I. Want. To. Leave.
Boy: Come on, just have a seat. Hear me out. It’s the least you can do.
It works. She feels guilty and moves to the couch.
Girl: You have exactly one minute to tell me your great idea, and then I’m leaving.
Boy: Fair enough. You won’t want to leave after you hear it.
Girl: I seriously doubt that.
Boy: Here it is.
(A beat, for effect)
I’m taking you to Italy.
Girl: To Italy?
Boy: We’ll go to that village you like so much—the one on the wall above the trash can at our coffee shop—
Girl: Vernazza—
Boy: Si!
Girl: —in Le Cinque Terre. It’s on the Mediterranean.
Boy: I know you’ll love it. You’ve always wanted to go there.
Girl: Yes, yes, I have, but—
Boy: But what? How could you possibly object? A free vacation in the sun, lots of delicious food, and me to cuddle up to in villas at night.
Girl: (A little laugh) Your first two points might’ve convinced me.
Boy: (A plea of sorts) You love cuddling with me.
Girl: I did. I did love cuddling with you.
(She starts to go.)
It was a sweet idea—Italy—but I shouldn’t.
Boy: (An interception!) Well if you won’t go for the cuddling, go for the Italian men!
Girl: The Italian men? Do you hear yourself?
Boy: I know they’re tall, dark, and handsome, but I think, well I really think that after a humorless night with one of them, you’ll miss my wit and charm so much that you’ll come running back, begging me to hold you again—
Girl: Okay, listen to me. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. Really, I am. We’ve had a lot of fun together, these past few months—
Boy: We’ve had a blast.
Girl: It’s been fun. Really fun. You make me laugh and laugh... I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed so much in my life, but that’s not enough. I need more than just laughing—or cuddling. I need something different.
Boy: I can give you what you need.
Girl: No, I don’t think you can.
Boy: Well at least let me try. Please. Come to Italy with me.
Girl: And what if you can’t give me what I need?
Boy: I think I can—
Girl: But what if you can’t.
(Beat)
Boy: Then we’ll have Italy.
She considers
Girl: Okay. Let’s go.
Boy: You’re serious.
Girl: Yeah, sure. Why not? I need a vacation.
Boy: Right. Great. This is great.
Girl: When do you want to leave?
Boy: How about tomorrow.
Girl: Tomorrow’s good.
(Beat)
I’ll go, then, and pack my bag.
Boy: I’ll book the tickets.
They look at each other.
Girl: It could be fun.
Boy: I’m counting on it.
She turns to go.
Boy: Hey. So, do you wanna stay with me tonight?
Girl: Call me. About the flight time. Okay?
Boy: Yeah. Sure. I’ll do that.
She exits.
Boy paces and fidgets with his tie, thinking. He
is alone, and he feels it. With a sigh, he collapses
onto the couch.
Boy: (Looking down at his tie) What a terrible color on me.
Lights fade. Blackout.
END.