Hoping for Georgia

Table of Contents Writer’s Statement Fiction Untitled Jiro Lou’s Diner Excerpt from “Becoming Jack” Poetry Flight of the Weenis Piece of a Palm Food: After Allen Ginsberg To the People I Miss the Most My Main Man Villanelle for the Broken-Hearted Non-Fiction Mother of a Nation Get Up, Get Going, and Venture Outdoors Excerpt from “Growing Up in the War Streets” Crying at the Sun Playwriting Excerpt from “Eric and Psydney” Excerpt from “Only the Good”

When I was applying to the Pittsburgh High School for the Creative and Performing Arts, I did not, under any circumstances, want to join the writing department. I wanted to be a singer or an actress or a dancer. I wanted to be part of a fun major. There was no was I was going to write for three hours a day, five days a week, for the next for years. It was just not going to happen.

As luck would have it, that is exactly what happened. I learned about everything, from a story’s climax to terminal hypercatalexus. I didn’t like all of it. I had never been a big fan of writing to the assignment. Yet, after almost all of the assignments, I would look back on my work and feel an immense amount of pride.

Each of the pieces I chose to include in this book represent a particular part of my growth, not only as a writer, but as a person as well. My pieces from freshman year represent a time in my life when I was being exposed to so many new things, but didn’t quite understand them all. Most of my pieces were failed attempts at being funny or deep, but there were a few that came through and made me realize that I had potential for something more.

Sophomore year is when I really started to hit my stride. I was offered an internship after one of my journalism pieces was published. Not only did it help to make my future college applications look better, but it allowed me to believe in myself and my capabilities.

Junior year was a rough one I spent the first semester in a study abroad program in Spain.

For most of the second semester, I was trying to come to terms with the feeling that my home was no longer where I had been raised. I noticed that my writing los a lot of the fluff and good feelings that had been there in earlier years. My writing became dark.

Senior year is unfinished. Most of it was spent writing my novella, “Becoming Jack”, which turned out to be more of a short story than a novella. I’m interested to see what the rest of the year holds. More importantly, I’m excited to see what college will bring. But no matter what, I know that the things I have learned here at CAPA will be with me wherever I go.

Untitled The steady dripping of water was the first sound I heard when I resumed consciousness, that and the scattering of mice. I didn’t open my eyes at first; in the black darkness of my closed lids I could believe that I was still in my bed. But curiosity has a way of getting the better of people.

The room was dark, not pitch black, but close enough. It took my eyes a few minutes to adjust, but there wasn’t anything special to see. The wall was cold, probably steel or some cheap knock-off. In the darkness of the room, there was no way to be one hundred percent sure.

Moving my hands along the slimy crevices of the wall, I found what I was looking for: a hinge. A door, thank god, there’s a way out of this place. At first, I used only my eyes and hands, searching for a handle, a keyhole, anything to lead me out. When this failed, I began to panic, using my legs, my torso, everything, to find even the smallest glimmer of hope.

I threw myself at the door with all the force and willpower I had, but his caused more pain than result. I back into a corner, clutching my chest and breathing deeply.

“Where am I?” I knew it was an unnecessary yell, who was going to hear me? At this realization, I lay my head on my knees and wept. My father had assured me, when I was a child, that nothing like this would ever happen to me. I guess he was wrong, like usual. That stupid on of a…

Suddenly, the door opened; the light was so bright I thought the sun had exploded in front of me. I raised my hand to shield my eyes from the glare, and when they refocused I saw a black figure in the doorway. His face, his clothes, his hair, even the door through which he had emerged, were all black.

“Where am I?” I screamed, spit flying from my mouth in a mixture of rage and panic.

“Where in God’s name am I?” The figure didn’t say a word. When I kept screaming, he advanced a few steps toward me “Listen,” I pleaded, “I just want to know where I am.”

“You’re in a room,” said the figure, his deep voice bouncing like a rubber ball around the steel room.

My tired and confused mind tried to comprehend what he was saying. But he strode toward me and kicked me in the head. Again, there was only black.

I was getting tired of waking up in the dark, so this time I kept my eyes closed. I had always liked the colored shapes that play across the black screen of my lids. There’s something both mystical and calming in the knowledge that humans can make something beautiful, even if it isn’t real.

My kids liked imaginary things. They would talk to me for hours on end about their latest friends and castles. I swear, if it were possible, they would build bridges with their minds. I love my kids.

Then I sat up, eyes suddenly very alert. Oh God, if I’m here what’s happening to my kids? My mind raced with a thousand questions. Where are they? Are they all right? If I die here, who’s going to take care of them? For the second time in what I assumed was the same day, I wept, whole-heartedly. Had I been a good parent for them? When they looked back on their lives, would they think of me in a good way?

I thought of all the times I had placed work before them. Ever since the divorce, when I had gained custody, I had been the only parent in their lives. But how often was I really there? I didn’t want to die here in a cold dark room, knowing that I could have done things better.

Oh God, I thought, not here, not yet, I’m not ready. I still have so many things I need to

do.

This time, when the door opened I didn’t shield my eyes. I just gazed at the black figure that once again stood in my doorway. Its black edges seemed more blurred this time, or maybe it was just my eyes watering. Its legs were sorter and the torso didn’t seem as muscular as before.

The figure took a few steps toward me; I didn’t flinch.

“Are your ready?” he asked.

I stood up, my legs shaky from anxiety and lack of use. I didn’t know what I was doing; my next breath could be my last. But I walked forward, growing stronger. With each step, I held my head a little higher. I was ready to leave the black behind.

Jiro

I held her hand in mine and waited for her to say something. :Listen Jiro, I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” said Desiree, my girlfriend, as she looked at me.

“What?”

“I don’t think it’s fair for me to be leading you on.”

“I don’t understand,” I stuttered.

“I’ve had a crush on your brother for a while now.” Her eyes fell into her lap. “It didn’t start that way, but as I got to know him, I just…” Her words trailed off.

I began to shake. Why would she tell me this? I loved her and she repaid me by falling for my brother.

“Why? What’s so different between us that you had to choose him?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain.” She was crying. I could feel myself becoming angry.

My grip on her wrists tightened.

“We’re god damn twins Desiree,” I said. Her hand was turning white as I cut off the circulation.

“Jiro,” she pleaded, “let go of me, please.”

As hard as I tried, I couldn’t let go. My mind had completely lost control over my body.

“What is so special about him,” I asked. My face was so close to hers that she had to turn away from me. Spit was seeping from my mouth and my face was turning red. “What’s so special?”

She yelped as I threw her to the floor. She stood and looked me in the eyes. “He doesn’t hurt me, that’s what.

My hand reached up and slapped her face. Her mouth opened in horror and she stared at

me wide-eyed.

“What did you do?” My brother stood in the doorway. Desiree ran to him: her knight in shining armor. “What the hell did you do?”

“I think that the one in question here is you,” I said.

“Jiro, who do you think you are? Did you honestly think that anyone could love you?”

“Please Jesse, let’s just go, “Desiree said.

“No, he thinks he can do whatever he wants, but he can’t. Jiro, you aren’t good enough,” he said.

“I am every bit as good as you.”

“No, you have been, and you never will be, as good as me.”

They started to walk away. I crashed my hand onto Jesse’s should and brought my mouth close to his ear.

“You know what I’m capable of,” I whispered. “Never forget that, one day, I will get what you have taken from me.”

He shook me off and continued walking. They left me there in that room and never looked back.

I woke panting, a cold sweat running down my face. I had remembered that moment in my dreams more often than I could count. The time when my brother, my friend, had taken the only thing I had ever truly loved.

I rolled out of bed and ran my hands over my face. The blinking red numbers on the clock read 2:01 am. I stood up and walked down the long dark hallway before stopping in front of a door identical to my own.

My body hugged the doorframe; its cold white wood pressed into my face, creating

indents on my cheeks. My hands grasped the hinges of the open door as I gazed into the room where my brother slept. Even in the darkness I could see the slow methodic rise and fall of his chest.

For six years, I had watched him religiously, both out of contempt and love: watched him turn, throw the sheets, snore. He was my twin brother, he was a part of me, and yet he was so far from what I knew.

When we were ten, we were inseparable. We went to the same school, at the same food, and wore the same clothes. But when we turned eleven and started middle school everything changed.

He had always been the more outgoing one, and being in a new school with more people, he flourished. His friends grew and mines dwindled. He was moving away from me and I couldn’t stop it. I held onto him for as long as I possible could, cherishing every second I had with him. I started watching him on March 11, 2002.

When we started high school and Jesse became even more popular, I became jealous, angry even. I started to watch his every movement. I learned his ways, practiced being him in the mirror. Now, six years later, I still watched him sleep. I could imitate him perfectly. I was almost him; I only needed one more thing.

Jesse made a sudden movement and I retreated into the shadows. I looked at the digital clock; it was 3:06 am. I took one last look and turned toward my room.

The next morning I woke up late. It was Saturday and I normally indulged myself on the weekend. I got out of bed and, for the second time in twelve hours, went to my brother’s room.

Light shined through the window as I entered. It reflected off of the pale yellow walls and hit the porcelain blue comforter of his bed. I lay down on the bed, hugging my knees to my chest.

Closing my eyes, I breathed deeply into the pillow. The scent of the lavender cologne he used every morning lingered on the far corners of the pillowcase. I lived for that smell.

I rolled onto my back and lay in silence, looking around the room. My eyes landed on his brush. I lifted it gingerly, examining the hairs stuck between the teeth. They were soft and curly, only a little longer than my own. I grabbed a clump and put it to my face, feeling its thin fibers.

“Dude, what are you doing?”

I dropped the hair and turned to see Jess standing in the doorway.

“I swear man, if you weren’t my twin brother, I would’ve thrown you out of the house when we were thirteen.” His muscular frame moved from the doorway to the foot of the bed.

“It’s ok, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve found you in my room,” he said, plopping down onto the bed beside me. We lay silent for a few minutes, side by side. “It’s nice to just lie here, you know? We haven’t hung out in a while.”

“Whose fault is that, Jesse,” I said, turning my back towards him.

He slapped my playfully on the head and said, “Shut up, you know I football, and my woman is greedy.”

I pushed up with my right arm and stared blankly at the wall. He never had time for me anymore. It was always about his girlfriend, his team, his friends. What about his brother? Where did I fit in his perfect world? I could feel the blood beginning to rush to my face. Heat swept my body and my fists clenched. My jaw started to twitch from side to side. He noticed; I stopped.

“Why don’t you ever spend time with me anymore? Am I not good enough for you?” I asked.

“Jiro, I’ve just been busy. You know how it is.”

“No Jesse, I don’t know.” My voice came out a little louder than I had intended. He

shuddered; I noticed. He was afraid of me. He still remembered that night. He knew what I could do. “But I could know. I could be you.”

“Yeah, that’s very funny, bro>” He turned to look at me and laughed nervously before getting up and walking to the other side of the room, away from the door. “We’ll switch it up for Halloween.”

“I could be you all the time. I could be Jesse.”

“Why would you want that?”

“Yes Jesse,” I said, turning to him, with a mixture of rage and sarcasm playing across my face, “why would I want to do that?” I smirked before leaving the room, letting him stand in the corner alone.

The next morning, we both at waffles and he sat across from me on the bus to school. He didn’t look at me for the entire ride. Instead, he stared out the window at the grey sky and passing lawns. It was the same at school.

But in English class, he couldn’t hide any longer. We took out seats, he in the second to last row and me in the back, diagonal to him. I could see every move he made. The way he shuffled around the papers in his backpack, no doubt looking for the paper that was due today. I had seen it on his dresser this morning before we left.

Two minutes before the bell rang, our teach, Mrs. Petrelli, came waltzing in. She was an eccentric woman in her mid-fifties who had married young, divorced old and was trying to live a different life. She wasn’t succeeding.

“All righty class,” she said in a singsong voice, walking up and down the aisled, clapping her hands, “let’s take out those papers you’ve all worked so hard on.”

Jesse, who until now had still been searching through his backpack, looked into the front

pocket. He smiled in relief and pulled out the paper. Then his face fell as he realized that he hadn’t put the paper there. He never puts his paper in the front pocket, but I do.

“Today, we’ll be continuing our study of famous biblical characters, with perhaps the two most famous brothers known to man: Cain and Abel. Please turn your books to Chapter 3 page 296.”

I hated hearing Mrs. Petrelli read. Her syllables were too elongated and her tone reminded me of nails scraping down a chalkboard.

“Now, Cain and Abel were the sons of Adam and Eve. However, what makes them so intriguing is that Cain killed his brother.”

Jesse’s eyes bulged a little. His gaze, which had previously been focused on a spot at his desk, were now direct toward the front of the room.

“Abel is often portrayed as the ‘favorite’ of God. So Cain, out of jealousy, kills him. He then lies to God, which gives us the famous quote, ‘I am not my brother’s keeper.’”

As the teacher continued to talk, I watched Jesse. His face became rigid, and sweat marks were beginning to form under his armpits. His eyes looked like they could fall out of his head at any given moment.

“Jesse, are you all right dear?” My Petrelli asked, filing her voice with motherly concern.

“I just need to use the bathroom,” he said. He didn’t come back for the rest of the period.

No one noticed.

For the next few days, Jesse and I didn’t talk. He began taking his dinners in his room, using the excuse that he had a lot of homework. Sometimes he would skip dinner entirely because he was too tired.

One night, I went upstairs with a tray of spaghetti. I knocked gently on the door before

walking in.

“I’ll bet you need some dinner.”

“No, I’m fine,” he replied, not meeting my eyes. He was sitting at his desk, staring out the window.

“Well, I didn’t bring it up here for nothing.”

“Just leave it on the bed.”

“All right, but try to get some sleep tonight Jiro; you’ve been looking tired lately,” I said, turning to close the door.

“What did you say?” His voice was feeble. Dark circles were beginning to form under his eyes and he seemed shrunken.

“I said get some sleep tonight.”

“No, what did you call me?”

“Your name, what else? Night,” I said, before closing the door and turning with a smile toward my own bedroom.

The next day, he stayed home from school. I took the bus by myself and ate my waffle alone. But when I got to English class I took his seat, responded to his name, and took his test.

Jesse never missed a day.

In the lunchroom, I ate Jesse’s normal lunch: a pepperoni pizza, fries, and an apple. I paid for it using his ID card and started to walk to where I would normally sit, forgetting that today I wasn’t Jiro.

“Jesse. Hey, Jess!” I heard the musical voice behind me. I already knew who it was before I turned around.

Jesse’s girlfriend Desiree was the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. She had

vibrant red hair that came down in loose ringlets just below her should. She had blue eyes and freckles that lightly dusted her nose and cheeks. She never wore make-up and was the love of my life.

She and Jesse had been going out since freshman year, three years ago. I had watched their relationship tae off. Without me, they never would have met. They became the school’s ultimate couple: the sensitive quarterback and his intelligent artistic girlfriend. They were a pair made in heaven.

“Jesse where are you going? Come on, let’s go to our table.” She took my wrist and pulled me toward the table where Jesse ate his lunches. “You’ve been acting weird lately. But switching tables, that’s a whole new thing buddy.”

I set my lunch tray down on the table and looked around, waiting for someone to realize that I wasn’t Jessie; no one did. I spent the lunch talking with Jesse’s friends about the upcoming football season and how I thought the team was shaping up. I held hands with the girl that would have been Jesse’s girlfriend.

When the lunch bell rang, Desiree pulled me aside.

“Don’t forget, we have a date tonight, and I don’t want to be stood up again,” she whispered in my ear.

“What time do you want me to be there?”

“Um,” she thought for a moment, one finger lazily twirling a curl, “how about seven?”

“I won’t be late,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze.

I watched her skip away to a group of friends on the other side of the cafeteria. She was the ultimate woman, the prize that had been mine. Now, I had gotten her back.

For the rest of the day, I was in a good mood. The day went quickly, and the bus ride

home was almost non-existent. When I got home, I dropped my backpack down onto the a chair in the living room and ran upstairs to Jesse’s room. I pulled open the second drawer of his dresser and began assembling the outfit that I was going to wear that night.

When I looked up from my sorting, I noticed Jesse standing in the corner. His back was hunched and his head hung down as though he were ashamed of being seen. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent now; he still hadn’t slept. His previously tan skin was now sallow and clammy. He looked like a skeleton.

“Hello Jesse,” I said with a smile on my face.

“Why are you in my room? I don’t want you here.” His fingers started to move, tangling themselves in an out of each other.

“I’m looking for an outfit for tonight,” I said, returning to my previous task.

“Then you can go wear your own clothes. I don’t want you in my room.”

“But I can’t wear my own clothes. I have to wear yours.”

“Why?” “Because Desiree will know the difference. Is she particularly fond of this shirt,” I asked, holding up a blue flannel.

“You leave her out of this. She has nothing to do with you.”

“You’re right; she has nothing to do with me. But she has everything to do with me now.: “She’ll know. She’ll find out. She doesn’t love you. She didn’t then and she won’t now,” he said, his voice cracking as it rose.

I stepped away from the bed and put my face so close to his that I could feel the warmth of his breath. “She always loved me; she was just too afraid of you to admit it. You’re violent and she didn’t want to get hurt.” I pushed him into the far corner.

“She loves me,” he said in a meek voice of retaliation.

“She loves me now. You’re going to have to come to terms with that.” I turned away, grabbed the shirt and a pair of blue jeans and left the room. Desiree was mine; he would accept it whether he wanted to or not.

Later that night after Desiree and I had finished our date, we were standing in front of her house saying goodbye to each other.

“I had a lot of fun tonight Jesse. You seem, I don’t know,” she said, playing with my jacket, “more confident. I like it.”

“I like you.”

“I love you, Jesse.” She looked at me with those dazzling blue eyes and kissed me softly.

Then she turned and went into her house, waving to me before disappearing. She loved Jesse.

She loved me.

The next morning I awoke in my new room. I saw Jesse in the hallway and nodded to him. He looked away quickly and followed me downstairs.

In the kitchen we ate waffles in silence. We got on the bus and took our normal seats. But at school I went to his locker and he went to mine. In English class, I sat in the second to last row, and he sat diagonally behind me.

“We missed you yesterday, Jiro,” said Mrs. Petrelli, referring to his absence. “Are you feeling better now dear?”

“Yes ma’am, much better,” Jesse said, staring at his hands. I turned to face the front of the room and smiled.

Lou’s Diner Jasper Finnon didn’t remember when he started to hate pancakes. As far as he knew, his distaste had begun in the womb. His mother was an avid eater of breakfast foods and so most of his time in utero had been spent being nourished by a steady stream of bacon, fried eggs and maple syrup.

Although he hated pancakes, loathed them with almost all of his being, every Sunday at

precisely ten o’clock in the morning, he would go to the diner down the street and order the Pancake Bonanza. He had kept this routine for three years and, to date, had never missed a Sunday. He would sit on the stool at the end of the counter and force the soggy, sugar sweet bread down his throat. He liked to believe that he did this in order to remind himself of why he hated pancakes. But eventually he had to admit to himself that the real reason he went to Lou’s Diner was Cecile.

Cecile was the bubbly waitress with the golden ringlets that had captured Jasper’s heart the moment he had seen her. He stumbled into the diner that first Sunday and stared dumbly at her when she came for his order. In an attempt to help a man who she thought was considerably disturbed, she had ordered her favorite food for him: pancakes. Even this major flaw in her character couldn’t break Jasper’s trance. From that day onward, the only thing he truly looked forward to was eating those pancakes, because it meant seeing her.

Every Sunday, Jasper would wake up at eight in the morning in order to get ready. He would spend at least half an hour staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. Any other day of the week, he was content with his appearance. He had accepted in high school that he was average looking. He had tried to dye his mousy brown hair a few times, but the dye never stuck and within a few days his hair would be the same dull color as before. Only now, he was twelve dollars poorer. But on Sunday, his large hazel eyes scanned his pale skin and thin body and hated that he couldn’t be the type of man he knew Cecile liked.

But it wasn’t in Jasper’s nature to waste time on the unimportant aspects of life. He knew that he couldn’t change who he was and so accepted his flaws and moved on. The only part of himself Jasper hadn’t completely worked out was whether or not his determination was a good thing. If he wanted something he would wait as long as needed until it was his. Nothing could

take him away from the object of his desire. And so it was that his desire had led him to wait for Cecile.

Excerpt from “Becoming Jack” His pudgy hand gently drifted over he skin. The initial shock from her lack of warmth had worn off, but he still couldn’t get over the contrast between his fleshy pink skin and hers, tinted a light blue.

“William, don’t touch her.”

His father smacked his hand away. He knew he shouldn’t test his father; that now was not

the time to push the limits. But the urge to hold his mother’s hand overwhelmed him and he reached out one more time. This time, a fist came crashing down on his shoulder.

“For God’s sake William, she’s dead. Don’t touch her.”

William Macy jerked awake, lying in a pool of his own sweat. His eyes scanned the dark ceiling of his one room apartment. He didn’t wait for his breathing to slow before pushing himself up, sitting on the edge of his bed, gingerly placing his feet on the floor. The wood was cold and his toes curled in response. He had swept the floor yesterday, but dust had already begun to collect in small bunches that clung to the soles of his feet.

He was tired. He hadn’t slept a full night in almost three years. Every night, he would lie down and hope, pray, the he would wake up with the morning light. But night after night, he was haunted by the same dream. As the image of his mother began to cloud his thoughts, he rested his head in his hands and sighed.

His mother had died from pneumonia when he was six years old. She had been a beautiful woman, caring and sweet, and Macy had been the love of her life. When he was born, she would spend hours holding him and gazing at his tiny body in awe. As he grew, she was there to watch and dote on him. She was his best friend.

After she got sick, she had spent less time with him and more time lying in bed. He watched her slowly wither away, and his father become more and more distant. Although he didn’t doubt that his father dearly loved his mother, he had never been a family man. He was a businessman and, as such, work always came first. He would spend hours in downtown London, coming home late date after day. He wasn’t ready to become a single parent.

Macy lifted his head slowly. His body ached and sagged as he stood up. He had given up on trying to go back to sleep. Being tired was a welcome alternative to the dreams he knew were

waiting for him. Being tired was a welcome alternative to the dreams he knew were waiting for him. He dressed quickly, choosing whatever clothing met his hand. The door to his apartment squeaked open; he had been meaning to fix it but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He walked slowly down the stairs to the front door of his building. The heat of the night blanketed him as soon as he stepped outside; it was early August. Macy closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, his nostril flaring as his mind processed the different scents of the night.

When he opened his eyes, he looked to left and the right. He decided to go right that night. He walked past the rows of tall houses, his head down, looking at his feet. Trash swirled at his every step. Newspapers from the past few days littered the ground, moving at even the slightest breeze. He kicked at a broken glass bottle on the ground, the shards skittering off the sidewalk and into the gutter.

At the corner of the street, a group of women stood bunched together. Their drunken laughter filled the street. As Macy drew nearer, one turned and spit into the street. Her spit landed only inches from Macy’s shoe.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there.” The woman was borderline obese and looked to be about thirty-four. She smiled and Macy could see her rotting teeth. The hem of her dress was torn and dirty and her hair looked as if it hadn’t been brushed that week. “I can make it up to you for a twopence.”

He remembered quite clearly the first time he had learned about prostitutes. His mother had taken him to the opera one night. On the way home they walked past three women crowded together outside a pub. The women had called to his mother, commenting about her pretty dress and adorable child. A crimson flush had creeped onto his mother’s cheeks at the women’s words.

The next year after his mother’s desk, he had come home form school to find the house

empty and the lights dimmed. Fear immediately set in as he practically ran up the stairs, the darkest part of the house, toward his room. As he passed his father’s room he heard heavy breathing. A man’s voice, barely audible, was letting out slow murmurs. Macy was sure it was a robber and, intrigued, cracked the door to see inside. Light bathed his face, momentarily blinding him. When his eyes adjusted, he squinted into the room.

The man emitting the noise was his father. He was slumped over the bed, rocking back and forth. Macy’s stomach tightened as he wondered if his father was becoming ill, just as his mother had. He entered the room, hoping to help. The door squeaked and Macy’s father whipped around.

“William, what the hell are you doing? Get out. Get out!”

His father’s voice came out like a dull roar. Macy was frozen into place. It wasn’t necessarily the shock of his father yelling at him, but when his father had moved to meet his gaze, another pair of eyes had also emerged. Behind his father’s body was the body of a woman.

She looked at Macy before letting out a taunting smile.

She reached up, grabbing his father’s neck, revealing her bare chest.

“All this time, you never told me you had kids.”

His father pushed the woman off and stepped out of bed. He walked over to Macy and took him by the arm, forcefully dragging him out of the room.

“Insolent child stay out of my room.”

Macy could feel hot tears begin to stream down his face.

“Don’t make him cry. He didn’t know what we were doing.”

He looked up and saw the woman standing behind his father in the doorway. He looked at her face and realized that he had seen her before. She had been one of the women slumped

outside the pub. The woman who had spoken so rudely to his mother was now standing in front of him, her arm balanced lazily on his father’s shoulder. He hated them both in that moment and swore that he would never talk to his father again.

The woman standing in front of him now was no different. Macy’s lips curled as she began to approach him. She lifted a hand to touch him; Macy recoiled in disgust.

“Hey, where have you been?” A large burly man came swinging around the corner. He walked over to the woman and grabbed her forcefully by the wrist. “You were supposed to meet me five minutes ago.”

“Don’t forget the twopence this time, dear,” the other prostitutes shouted after them playfully. They turned to Macy. “Now, if you’ve still got that twopence…”

Macy gave them a wide berth as he rounded the corner onto the main road. He leaned against a building for a moment, waiting for his heart beat to slow. The prostitutes’ laughter rang down the alley, reaching Macy’s ears. He pushed off the wall and kept walking.

The main street was his favorite, it was where the majority of the city’s filth went at night. Whorehouses littered the streets and bars filled with drunks were more numerous than homes. He would walk past the bars and look into their windows. Women threw themselves upon men in the hopes of making a little bit of money. The men slurred their words and threw a punch at anyone whose own intoxicated sentences didn’t sit well with them.

As he stood in front of a bar with peeling gold letter, a man came crashing through the doors.

“Go home, Henry,” giggled the bar maid, “you’re too drunk for your own good.”

She closed the door and went back inside. Henry tried to open the door but lost his balance and slipped down the stairs. Henry swiveled his head and met Macy with glazed eyes.

“Excuse me, sir.” His head bobbled from side to side. Drool came out of his mouth as he spoke, causing him to begin to choke before coughing on his own spittle and ending the conversation by vomiting.

Macy turned his head. His eyes sprang wide as the stench of vomit hit his nostrils. His hand moved to cover his face. He quickened his pace and soon found himself at another corner.

Turning back, he noticed that the sky about the main street had begun to turn a dark shade of purple. The sun would be rising soon. The night was slowly receding. The people on the street began to make way for those who used it for more legal purposes.

Flight of the Weenis* In the ethereal land of body parts, Clavicle City stands alone.

This is the story of one brave weenis as he journeys and escapes from Elbow.

The life of a weenis is lonely indeed.

With only strake movement, what better is there to do than dream?

Steve’s left weenis led such a life.

He wistfully though of the day when he,

Tobias Weeniskus Jr., would make it to Clavicle City.

One day, Tobias packed his wok, rolled up his katana and left for the vivacious “City on the Neck”.

The road was tough, the conditions harsh.

Only his fanaticism made him go on.

After days he reached Shoulderton.

With Clavicle City in sight, Tobias jumped for joy, and that stupid little weenis got caught on a breeze.

No follicle was left of him, that weenis who wouldn’t be ‘Cause Steve just kept on walkin’, weenis-less on his left.

Where is Tobias, that rascal, you ask?

Sitting in the dirt somewhere, dreaming of his posh home on Steve’s left elbow. *a weenis is the small flap of pliable skin found on your elbow

Piece of a Palm I found it today, that piece of your palm you said went missing last week.

It wasn’t quite what I had thought would missing piece would be.

It wasn’t skin at all, not your color or mine.

Instead it was like a sugar coated Easter egg left to melt in someone’s pocket.

I saw the ancient fingerprints of people who’d perfected its mold.

Felt the warmth of hands who’d held it tight when this rock was their only friend.

When I put it in my pocket, the weight reminded me that, somewhere, someone loved me.

It was like a friendly note etched in stone that read, “don’t open ‘til you get home”.

I said I’d give it back, it was a terrible lie, I admit!

But I just wouldn’t be able to stand it if my palm went missing too.

Food After Allen Ginsberg Food, I love you.

If I could trade every human on Earth for a piece of food, it would be a very lonely planet.

I know that in the past I haven’t always been the best of friends. But I promise to eat more of you in the future.

Food, it’s important we come to an understanding.

I promise to eat more of you if you promise not to give me love handles.

Food, you made me gain twelve and a half pounds this year. What’s up with that? I had to convince my mom it’s all muscle.

Food, it had better all be muscle.

Food, you have Maddie to thank for our relationship.

If it wasn’t for macaroni helmets, cans of icing, tater tots at midnight and Fruitloops we wouldn’t get together half as much as we do now.

Food, sometimes you make me sick.

When I eat three waffles, I get nauseous.

On Monday, I bought a muffin. I cut it into pieces because that’s just how I eat muffins.

But ten minutes after I was done, I felt grosser than that time in eighth grade when the boys mixed together fries, milk, ketchup, mayo and juice and then dared me to eat it Food, there’s a part of you that I miss.

I haven’t had meat for two-and-a-half years.

Food, I miss that part of you.

I miss your bacon, your lemon chicken, your pork chops, your honey ham chipped into sweet little slices, your just-after-Thanksgiving turkey, your home-style chicken strips that Wendy’s does so much better than McDonald’s, your camp chicken patties and much, MUCH more.

Food, not speaking to that side of you has made camp that much harder.

But food, that meatless bean burrito was orgasmic.

Food, I hate it when people call you supper.

And food, I can’t say that I’m a big fan of lunch.

But food, oh man, do I love you at breakfast.

Bagels, waffles, toast, scrambled eggs, omelets, smoothies, cereal, Pop-tarts, streudels, pancakes, and even recently French toast.

I love when we share breakfast; it’s my favorite part of the day.

This morning I had enough time for a bagel. Cinnamon raison with plain cream cheese.

Food, some people abuse you.

They eat too quickly and don’t savor your taste.

Or they eat like pigs and let you fall out of their mouths. They’re heathens.

And the anorexic, don’t worry, it’s nothing personal, they just aren’t ready to embrace your wonder and kindness.

Food, I love your canned pears.

Sometimes if I’ve been having a really hard day, or a good day, or an exciting day, or if I’ve been having a day, I like to come home and partake of your canned pears.

Food, I love you.

To The People I Miss The Most- Sophomore I miss not knowing where to put my feet.

I miss the songs you used to play.

I miss that no one calls me Finnish.

I miss you asking me how my day was.

I miss how comfortable I was being close to you.

I miss you always watching yourself in the mirror.

I miss how you would compliment me, even though you didn’t know what my day had been like.

I miss how you would brown nose people in the most obvious ways, and it wouldn’t make them mad.

I miss how you would make my problems seem minute.

I miss you singing to Jason Mraz.

I miss not being able to wait to get to you.

I miss keeping your secret.

I miss that you were the only man who was there for me.

I miss you.

I miss your laugh.

I miss your utter confidence and lack of self-esteem.

I miss how you would make me stay up late at night.

I miss how you were always there for me.

I miss our Sunday mornings and Saturday nights.

I miss the taste of the Gummi Worms, because they aren’t the same eaten alone.

I miss how you thought I had sex appeal, and how you wished you had it.

I hate how you weren’t there this morning when my alarm clock finally broke off.

You were there when it cracked the first time.

You were right, the glue didn’t work.

I miss how you were always right.

I miss your mom.

I miss how you were the only girl in my life who really listened to me.

I miss you.

I’m sorry I had to tell.

I’m sorry that I didn’t defend you.

I’m sorry that I left.

I’m sorry that I didn’t talk first.

I’m sorry I didn’t apologize.

Please forgive me.

My Main Man My daddy always told me the world is within my reach.

But my daddy never noticed that my arms aren’t that long and I’ve always been kinda short. He said the world is waiting right at my feet. But daddy, my feet are small and my balance has never been good. The truth was never something you craved or I liked to speak.

I know it’s been a while, we haven’t really spoken for almost a year. You tried your hardest to reach out to me, let me know you were there. But the truth is, I didn’t want to be touched. I had no longing for the warmth you provided and in the small of my heart, I know that shattered your world.

When I left you, doors opened and the world became mine. You had never before spoken to me about what lay outside, the smallness I’d feel when I stepped out there. The farthest reaches of who I was couldn’t fathom the complete lengths of the lies you had passed off as being true.

To an extent I wanted to retreat and make them true again. I wanted to push away all of the worldliness I’d gained and become your little girl again for as long as you would let me. You had always spoken to me like no one else. In my desperation I reached out to you, but your smile only made mine smaller.

It took me so long to understand everything is small.

That all of your so preciously tried and trued measures weren’t the ones that, within my reach, I needed to help me build my own version of the world.

But I’m ready to see you, to hear your voice speak one more time, to hear you laugh at any length.

I am well aware that it’s taken me far, far longer than either of us expected. I hope that this small lapse in time hasn’t corrupted our unspoken bond. You were the only, and the truest, friend I ever had. I owe you my life and my world.

Because of you nothing for me is unreachable.

You knew my reach was always that long.

When you told me the world, wasn’t too small for me it was the truth. If you’re there I’m ready to speak.

Villanelle for the Broken-Hearted They always told me that things would get better.

“Just you wait and see, your time will surely come.”

But my wait is up, my trapped life is over I know I’m not your lover, sister, mother.

I have no chance to be your perfect one.

Why do you still say that things will get better?

You should understand when I fill with anger, That I need to leave so I don’t come undone.

I’m sick of waiting for that golden never.

I am leaving, leaving you for another

that lets me know there are still things to be won.

Lets me know that things can always get better.

It will be the same old lies and same squalor, happening in a way I’ve never seen done.

I’ll be trapped again, my wait will start over.

But I’ll take the relief from constant anger.

Even a small break is better than none.

Because this time I’m gonna make it better, and my wait is up, this trapped life is over.

Mother of a Nation On December 1, 1955, one woman said no, and changed a nation forever. Now, half a century later, at the age of ninety-two, Rosa Parks has passed away, but her legend has not.

Born Rosa Louise McCauley on February 4, 1913 to a couple in Tuskegee Alabama, she grew up on a farm, where every night her worst fear was that Ku Klux Klan members would burn down her house. In 1932, she married fellow civil rights activist Raymond Parks. But it was in Montgomery that she made a lasting impression on generations to come. The story of how Parks, after a long day at work, refused to give up her seat to a white passenger, is well known to

many people. However, when asked, Parks says that, had it been a child or an elderly person, she would have gladly given up her seat. None-the-less, she was arrested and thus began her trial.

Inside the courtroom, Parks was telling judges and jurors that she was no more tired than usual, that she was only sick of the treatment of African Americans. Outside, a new hope was sparked inside the hearts of blacks across the nation. She had shown them that they could do something about what was going on in the world. In essence, Rosa Parks started not only the Montgomery Bus Boycott (which lasted a total of 381 days) but also started the Civil Rights Movement.

Although Parks wasn’t the only person standing up to injustice (eight months earlier a fifteen year old girl name Claudette Colvin had refused to give up her seat), but she was the one that would win the crowds. She had a gentle way about her and looked like an aunt or mother who would wrap you up in a big hug when you came home. Don’t be fooled though! Because, beneath her exterior there was a woman tired of segregation and willing to fight for what she believed in.

For many years after the trial, (it took thirty minutes for the judges to reach a verdict, she was put in jail) both she and her relatives received threats and were continually harassed. She lost jobs and money. Still, she never changed her opinion, never wavered from her belief that what she was doing was right, that segregation is wrong, and that the only way to stop it was to take action, sooner rather than later. She once said, “To this day I believe we are here on the planet Earth to live, grow up and do what we can to make this world a better place for all people.” This was not only her belief, but also what she lived her life by.

After the Civil Rights Act was passed in 1964, she went on to be given many awards including the Lifetime Achievement Award in 1977 and the Martin Luther King Jr. Award in

1980. She became an active member of the Southern Christian Leadership Council, and a fundraiser for the NAACP, where she had been a secretary for previously. On June 15, 1999 she was given one of the greatest honors, a Congressional Medal of Honor. The bill, started by Representatives Julia Carson and Spencer Abrahams, went through Congress with wide spread agreement, and finally was passed into law by the then president, Bill Clinton. An audience of six hundred fifty people showed up to watch the presentation of a well-deserved medal to one of the country’s most beloved heroes. After the presentation Clinton said, “In so many ways Rosa Parks brought America home to our founder’s dream. We must never, ever, when this ceremony is over, forget about the power of ordinary people to stand in the fire for the cause of human dignity.”

Rosa Parks was a woman of courage. Someone who looked at segregation and knew that it was wrong. She was willing to stand up for what she believed in, even if it cost her everything.

October 24 was a day in which this world lost a hero, a mother, and good person. She should be remembered well. In good times and bad, she was a beacon of hope for people all across the nation.

Get Up, Get Going, and Venture Outdoors In June 2001, a non-profit organization was started. Its mission: to get people more interested in going outdoors and exploring nature by providing them with a safe but fun way to get in touch with their surroundings. People liked the idea, and Venture Outdoors was born.

Since then, Venture Outdoors has become a massive organization. Its branches now reach out, not only to Western Pennsylvania but also to parts of West Virginia and Ohio. It even holds its own festival every year.

The Venture Outdoors Festival, sponsored by UPMC, is annually held during the month of May on the North Shore. It’s a free event that has plenty of interesting things to do. There are yoga tents where you can see people bending into strange positions, or, if you prefer the slightly

more daring aspects of nature, you can scale their 50 foot climbing wall.

Venture Outdoors offers plenty of other excursions throughout the year. In February alone there is a snowshoeing excursion, cross-country skiing, doggie day treks and much, much more. To see all of these events and find one you’re interested in, go to their website, www.ventureoutdoors.org.

Although there is a small cost to these events, by becoming a member the already minimal cost goes down considerably. If you want to pay the bare minimum, you can do all the events and still enjoy nature. However, you can also join the “Pathfinder’s Circle”. This group of members not only participates in the events and activities, but also gets tickets to special events and even some gifts.

Either way, by joining you are showing that you care about the environment and yourself and that you are an interesting person who is willing to take risks and have a little fun. You can’t go wrong with either.

Excerpt from “Growing Up In the War Streets” My father and I hadn’t been what one would consider “close” when I was young. But when I was five we had an excursion that portrayed out future relationship to near perfection.

We were driving down a country back-road in my dad’s white dodge mini-van. The sun was beautiful, streaming through the trees and onto the ground, making shadowy, ornate patterns in the dirt.

There was a single car in front of us. We watched it in silence until it suddenly jerked upwards on its right side.

My father put his foot on the breaks and slowed to a stop.

“Let’s see what it is.”

I climbed out hesitantly, unsure of what was waiting up ahead. In the middle of the road was a tiny brown blob. It was smashed in the middle by a trail of tire marks. A swarm of flies hovered over it and occasionally landed on some of the pink spots that littered the thing.

As I got closer I realized what I was looking at. At some point that day an adult opossum had tried to cross the street. Unfortunately it hadn’t made it.

We gawked at the mangled animal. There was something so hideously wonderful about it that I couldn’t look away. Its face had an odd look, like it had been caught between pure peace and total depression.

My father helped me inspect every angle. He was like a modern day Sherlock Holmes for road-kill. He could tell which way the car had been going based on how the opossum was laying.

We finally laughed at the opossum one last time before getting back in the van. When we felt the first tire bounce over its dead body we made faces at each other and laughed. After the second wheel jerked up we continued to laugh. We laughed our heads off for a couple more seconds.

Then we stopped. Suddenly the thought of the opossum’s death wasn’t a laughing matter.

What if it had been a parent just trying to get food for its babies? They were going to starve to death now. Who would take care of them?

It didn’t seem so sunny on the road anymore. Once again, the car was silent.

Five was a pretty big year for me. I learned about road-kill, and I started school.

Manchester Youth Development Center (MYDC for short) was beautiful two-story building with a large fenced in courtyard. There were glass windows everywhere and everything was soft. The colors of the wall were soft. The ramps were softly sloped. Even the carpet wasn’t as rough as it could be.

The courtyard was oddly shaped. If you had been given an aerial view it would have looked like a disproportional sombrero with straight edges. There was a small, rectangular green section that was wedged into the building. It was fun in the fall, and spring, warmer than the open section in the winter, but deadly in the summer.

No matter what kind of shoes you wore you could never protect your feet from the pain.

Despite the green parts great nooks and crannies, the material they used for the floor retained all the heat that was put into it. After only ten minutes on the playground, even if you didn’t stand still for more than five seconds at a time, your feet would burn as if they were touching hell itself.

Thankfully they had the open part for that time of the year. The open part was all dirt and funky grass that was found closer to the trees. The trees were tiny scraggly little things that dotted the outer edges. When we played tag you could use a tree to your advantage. If you rotated around it with your hand it became like a slingshot and hurled you away from the person who was “it”.

The best tree was in the back left corner. No one knew how long it had been there, but we all knew it was huge. Four of the thinner kids could easily hide behind it. Its branches were all on the top and spread out for what seemed like miles. It was the best place to cool off aside from the air-conditioned building.

Once, close to the end of spring, we were all running around in the open area. I was by the big tree, probably running in circles just to see how fast I could go. After running around four or five times I looked at the ground. There was something nestled in the grass.

It turned out to be a broken egg. On the inside was the tiny baby bird that hadn’t fully developed. It was bloody, and had no feathers. The top half of the egg had come off completely,

and connected to the bird’s stomach was a tiny pink string that I didn’t know at the time was its umbilical cord.

A few of my friends came over when they realized I wasn’t playing anymore. We stared at the bird for a little. Someone said that we should take it to the teacher and see what she could do about it, but we didn’t. The bird was dead. It fell from the nest and landed on the ground, so there was no point in our teacher seeing it.

The whistle blew and recess was over. The other kids ran away to get back to the door first. I waited for a minute looking one last time at the bird that would never fly. I laid it down carefully at the tree’s roots and covered it with a little bit of dirt. I said something similar to a prayer, but closer to a goodbye.

I stood up, looked to my left and then my right, turned on my heel, and sprinted back to the air-conditioning.

Crying at the Sun I remember the wrenching feeling in my stomach. The tears began to fill my eyes, clouding the world around me. My mind filled with questions: when, where? But the one that I wanted answered most was why.

It was a beautiful day in June. The sun streamed through the windows and the sky was a perfect robin’s egg blue. My mother sat in the car next to me, keeping her eyes on the road.

Looking back, it was probably because she was hiding her own tears. She had let me finish telling her about the sleepover I’d just been to, about the games we played and the people who were there. She waited patiently as I laughed at the jokes we had told.

When it was her turn to speak, she told me that my father had suffered a stroke the night before. I sucked in a deep breath and asked, in as steady a voice as I could muster, if he were still

alive. She did her best to smile and nodded. The grip on my heart loosened, but didn’t completely let go. I knew that just because he was alive today didn’t mean that he would be there tomorrow.

I had always known that my father wouldn’t be alive forever. I had just never assumed that my time with him would be so short. It struck me that my father, my best friend, might be taken from me before I was ready to give him up. The tears I had been holding back began to stream from my eyes.

But crying at that moment seemed ridiculous. I felt like a fool for resorting to such a simple and childish way of expressing my grief. I felt even more like a fool for allowing my mother to see me like this. I knew that she would need me to be strong. The next few weeks, or months, or even years were going to be hard for us. I couldn’t break and let her down now.

I looked out the window to hide my face, to recompose. The sun hit me like the blast from a flood light. What had been so calming and beautiful just minutes before, now seemed like a spotlight. The occupants of every car we passed seemed to be staring at me, knowing my pain and my burden. Their eyes were filled with judgment. I turned my head from them as well and realized that, at that moment, I was alone. I looked into my lap and let the overwhelming feeling of isolation fall in on me.

Then her hand found mine. My mother’s fingers wrapped themselves around my own and we came back to each other. I looked into her face and saw the same grief that I knew was painted across mine. We held tightly to each other, as much to comfort one another as to comfort ourselves. But the motives didn’t matter because in that instant we were no longer alone. We were together in our pain and our burdens became shared and a little easier to carry.

Excerpt from “Eric and Psydney” (Lights come up. We see a classroom with about ten desks all in rows. A teacher’s desk is in the front with a TEACHER sitting at it. He has a newspaper in front of his face. VENESSA, a stylish, pretty senior with long brown hair, is sitting in one of the back rows. She obviously has the control of the room as people keep looking back to see what she’s doing. Next to her is her little brother ERIC. ERIC is a good-looking junior who is popular because of his position on the football team and his sister’s position at school. Off to the right is a hallway, which is not lit up.)

ANNOUNCER (V.O.) Good morning Mount Olympus High-school, it is January 2, 2006 and this is Gertrude Mannus with your morning announcements. Last night, the Olympians defeated the Tigers 12-1, GO TEAM! (The announcements continue to drone on overhead while VENESSA turns to ERIC.) VENESSA So little brother, are you going to come with us to the party tonight? I hear it’s gonna be awesome. Stephanie will be there…

(She winks suggestively at him.)

ERIC Yeah, I might.

(He shrugs unenthusiastically. VENESSA pats his arm and turns back to her seat, popping a piece of gum into her mouth. The announcements now come back to full blast.)

ANNOUNCER (V.O.) … And finally, we would like to welcome Psydney Troy to our school. Hope you have a fun time! Gertrude Mannus signing off.

VENESSA Ugh, thank God those are over. So what do you know about this new Psydney girl?

(A girl in the front turns around and chimes in) GIRL I hear she moved here from somewhere exotiG like Florida. That’s why her name is spelled so weird. Get this, she spells it P-S-Y-D-N-E-Y. ERIC That sounds kinda cool.

(He mutters under his breath. The bell rings. There is a flutter of book bags as students rush to get out of the room. The lights come up in the hallway. VENESSA is walking down the hallway with her posse.)

VENESSA And so I was like, oh my god, and do you know what he said back? I swear to God he said…

(Her words are cut off by a girl (PSYDNEY) bumping into her, spilling all of her books on the floor.)

Hey, watch it!

PSYDNEY Oh, I am so sorry. It’s just that, it’s my first day and I’m kinda lost.

VENESSA So you’re Psydney? I’m Venessa.

(She bends down and offers PSYDNEY her hand. PSYDNEY is a pretty girl with honey blonde hair, she dresses just above plainly and carries four humongous books with her. PSYDNEY stands up.

VENESSA looks at her books.)

Physics, calculus, advanced world history, jeez girl, what are you a walking brain?

(She hands the books back to PSYDNEY who takes them sheepishly.)

PSYDNEY I just like this kind of stuff. It’s not a big deal. I’m in Mathletes too.

VENESSA Honey, why would you do that? That’s like total social suicide.

PSYDNEY Oh, well, I thought it was okay. I mean, they’re really nice people.

(She glances at a clock on the wall and notices the time.)

Crap, is that the time? I’m sorry but I have to go.

(She scurries off down the hall. VENESSA and her friends wait until she’s out of earshot and then burst into laughter.)

VENESSA Oh my god, did you hear her? The Mathletes? What a waste.

(They exit off to the left. The classroom slides back onto the stage.

Everyone is there except VENESSA who struts in without being noticed. The teacher again is enamored with his newspaper. She sits down at her desk.)

ANNOUNCER Good morning Mount Olympus High-school, it’s January 10, 2006 and this is Gertrude Mannus with your morning announcements…

(The announcements fade out.)

VENESSA Hey there buddy.

(She says to ERIC with a toss of his hair) What’s new in your life?

ERIC (He laughs a little before responding) Not much sis, but then you should know. You live with me.

VENESSA That’s the truth, but it’s still good to check up on my favorite guy every now and then.

(Two girls walk in gossiping loudly. VENESSA listens in hoping for a tidbit.)

GIRL #1 So have you seen that new girl, Psydney?

GIRL #2 A little, she’s in my calc class.

GIRL #1 Isn’t she totally awesome? They say she’s way prettier than Venessa. You know I think they might be right…

(VENESSA, who had only been half listening snaps to full attention now and glares indignantly at the two girls. They continue talking.)

GIRL #2 She’s nicer too. She helped me with my homework not too long ago. Then again she is smarter than Venessa.

(They both burst into a small spurt of giggles.)

But seriously I think that Venessa might be dethroned as the queen of Mount Olympus.

(GIRL #1 nods in agreement and the girls continue to talk in indistinct whispers. VENESSA now turns to ERIC who is dozing in his chair.)

VENESSA Eric, Eric, did you hear that? ERIC!?

(Eric jolts awake with a snort) ERIC What?

VENESSA That Psydney girl, people are starting to talk. They’re saying, oh I can’t believe this, (She turns and takes a few deep breaths as if this is devastating) They’re saying she’s better than me. Can you believe that?

ERIC Listen, V, I’m sure she didn’t mean it. She can’t help it VENESSA Can’t help it? Everyone can help it. Popularity isn’t a gift, it’s a talent.

ERIC Okay, just remember, sibling-o-mine, that you can always bring her down.

VENESSA Oh I am way ahead of you. And you are going to be the main ingredient in my plot.

ERIC All right, so what’s the plan?

VENESSA Well, she’s new, and you know, what girl wouldn’t want to have a hunky popular, quarterback boyfriend? Now, my brother just happens to be a hunky, popular quarterback.

ERIC Wait, you want me to go out with her? Um, V you know, that would be a good thing… Are you feeling okay? Is your make-up wearing off?

VENESSA No, dumb one, my make-up is fine, and if you’ll let me finish it will all make sense. So you’re going to go out with her. You know, wine her, dine her, play her, dump her. You get the idea.

(The bell rings and the students leave, the lights come up in the hallway. PSYDNEY is rummaging through her locker. ERIC comes up and leans on the locker next to her.)

ERIC Hey. (PSYDNEY, who had not been expecting anyone to be there, let alone talk to her, jumps and accidentally drops one of her books on his foot) PSYDNEY Ugh, why can’t I get anything right at this school? I wasn’t this much of a klutz back home.

ERIC Naw, don’t worry about it. So you’re the infamous Psydney. I’m Eric.

(He sticks out his hand. PSYDNEY takes it and they shake.)

PSYDNEY I know who you are. It’s a little hard not to, being the little brother of Venessa and all. You’re practically royalty at this school.

ERIC Well you know, every king needs a queen.

(He moves suggestively towards her. PSYDNEY realizing what’s going on bursts out into torrents of laughter. ERIC is completely taken aback and looks at her dumbfounded.)

PSYDNEY I’m sorry. It’s just, you can’t really use that line to pick up girls. Please tell me you don’t.

ERIC Well, you know, I use whatever’s appropriate to the situation.

PSYDNEY Trust me, that will never be appropriate to the situation. It ranks up there with “If you were a booger I’d pick you first.” Just don’t say it, okay?

ERIC Okay, so uh, you wanna hang out some time?

PSYDNEY

Well, sure, I guess. I mean, are you sure you’ve got the right girl? You don’t exactly seem like the type of guy who would go out with a Mathlete.

ERIC Hey, I’m a versatile kinda guy. I like to cover all my bases.

PSYDNEY Okay, only because you insisted. I guess this could work.

(Lights go down in the hallway and come up in the classroom.

VENESSA is sitting at her desk filing her nails. ERIC walks in and plops himself down next to her. She turns and looks expectantly at him.)

VENESSA Ahem, are you gonna tell me what’s happening or just let me sit here and rust?

ERIC What do you want me to say?

VENESSA Oh come on, you’ve lived with me for seventeen years. I would expect you to know the way I work. Tell me what you said! What did she say? Was she excited? Fill me in!

ERIC I used a cheesy pick up line. It worked perfectly to break the ice. I asked her out, and she said yes. Same as all the other girls I’ve done this with. But she didn’t really seem too amazed by it.

You know how normally when we ask someone out they practically fall groveling to our feet?

She didn’t do that. She was really cool about it, like it was totally normal.

VENESSA Maybe she just doesn’t understand how popular you are yet. You know new kids don’t really get it until you put them in line.

ERIC Well I’m taking her on the “School After Dark” tour. So I’ll fix everything up tonight.

VENESSA Good. You’d better fix everything.

(She turns back and continues to file her nails. ERIC turns and sits in his chair. Lights go down in the classroom and come up (dimly) in the hallway. Psydney is looking around cautiously.)

PSYDNEY Eric? Are you here?

(ERIC sneaks up behind her and grabs her sides. PSYDNEY lets out a little yelp but smacks him when she sees who it is.)

Oh my god, don’t do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!

ERIC Okay, fine, don’t be such a prude. Here, this is school at night. What do you think?

PSYDNEY Um, romantic?

ERIC You’re just saying that because you haven’t really experienced it. Come on, sit down, talk to me.

(He sits down on the floor. PSYDNEY gracefully follows his example.)

So tell me about yourself. What was life like for Psydney, uh, well first you can tell me your full name, and why it’s spelled like that.

PSYDNEY Okay, my full name is Psydney Troy, no middle name. And it’s spelled that way because, in case you couldn’t tell, my family is very Greek. So when it came time to name me, they went American with that old Grecian twist. Therefore, I got the P. What about you?

ERIC You probably know everything about me. The hometown football jock, whose sister is the beauty queen of Mount Olympus, it’s pretty simple. I wanna focus on you. Where did you move from?

PSYDNEY (She laughs) What is it with you and all the questions? Oh well, I guess I’d be curious too. I was born in Philadelphia but then my mum died when I was five, so my dad moved my little brother and me to Argentina. He said that mom’s death had made him think over our lives and that we should really be spending our time helping the less fortunate. Apparently, according to my dad that means living in the middle of a swamp and eating bugs. Then my dad met a woman named Marisa and he ran out on us. So my brother and I moved up here to be with our grandparents.

That about sums it up.

ERIC Geez, I never knew. I, wow, god, I feel horrible now.

PSYDNEY Don’t, please don’t. I hate people pitying me, and the last thing I need is for my boyfriend to start doing it.

(When she says this ERIC seems to snap back into persona.)

ERIC

Right boyfriend. Hey what time is it, do you know?

(PSYDNEY checks her watch) PSYDNEY Oh crap! It’s almost 11, my grandparents are gonna kill me! Listen I have to go, I had a lot of fun though.

ERIC (He looks earnestly at her.)

Yeah, me too. What do you say to two nights from now, same time, same place?

(PSYDNEY is practically running out the door but has enough time to turn around and smile.)

PSYDNEY Sounds great.

(PSYDNEY exits, ERIC is left smiling to himself. Lights go down in the hallway and come up in the classroom. Neither VENESSA nor ERIC is there. However a few seconds later ERIC stumbles in sleepily. VENESSA follows him closely.)

VENESSA Yeah, see you later Junie.

(She waves out the door, goes to her seat and turns to ERIC.) Hmm, looks like someone didn’t get home until very late last night. So, how did it go? Did you get any juicy gossip for the spreading?

ERIC V, listen to this, she grew up in Argentina. ARGENTINA! Can you believe it? She lived on a swamp, and ate bugs! And then her father left her and her little brother for some strange woman named Marisa. Isn’t that terrible? He just left them.

VENESSA Hold on, hold on, if I weren’t totally sober I would think that you actually cared.

ERIC No, of course I don’t.

VENESSA Good, because the last thing I need is for my brother to fall hopelessly in love with my archnemesis.

ERIC Why is she your arch-nemesis? What did she ever do to you? You know it’s not like she wanted this to happen.

VENESSA Eric? Are you on crack?

(She checks his pupils.)

Of course she asked for it. You can’t show up at a school with a perfect tan and expect to not become popular. Trust me, she asked for it.

ERIC Yeah, I guess.

VENESSA When’s your next date?

ERIC Tomorrow night, at school again.

VENESSA Mhmm, sounds good. Just remember, you only have to get through this next one and then you can dump her in the ditch.

(Eric turns back to his seat. The lights go down in the classroom and come up in the hallway.

PSYDNEY is at her locker, two girls pass her and start to giggle. PSYDNEY sensing they’re laughing at her turns around.)

PSYDNEY Excuse me, what’s so funny?

GIRL #1 Oh, we just wanted to know. Is it true that you and Eric met here at school last night?

PSYDNEY (She starts to uncomfortably shift weight from foot to foot.)

Yeah, what about it?

GIRL #2 Well, I heard that you, you know, did stuff. Is it true?

PSYDNEY I beg your pardon? Who told you that?

GIRL#1 We heard it around.

GIRL#2 Yeah, around, so, is it true?

PSYDNEY

No! Of course it’s not. Nothing happened. We just talked. That’s all!

(She turns and starts to walk hurriedly off. As she nears the end of the stage she bumps into ERIC.) ERIC Hey babe, what’s up?

PSYDNEY That’s what I’d like to know. And according to those bimbos there’s a lot more than I thought.

ERIC Okay, (After being stared at haughtily for a few moments he throws his hands up into the air.)

Well? Do you want to tell me what they said?

PSYDNEY They’re saying that someone told them that we… you know, did stuff… the other night at the school. Did you tell them that?

ERIC God no. I may be a lot of things, but I’m not a liar.

(He holds her arms at her sides, and looks earnestly into her eyes.)

Psydney, I swear that I did not tell those girls, or anyone else, that we did that. Do you believe me?

PSYDNEY If I must.

ERIC Are we still on for tomorrow night?

PSYDNEY I’ll be there.

(She smacks him playfully and they walk off stage. The lights dim but do not go all the way out on the hallway. It is the next night. ERIC walks onto the stage and looks around to see if PSYDNEY is there yet.)

ERIC It was supposed to be a joke. Okay Eric, you weren’t supposed to actually like this girl. Ah, snap out of it!

(He slams his fist into one of the lockers. PSYDNEY walks in while he is nursing his fist.)

PSYDNEY Wow, I think someone needs a little anger management.

(She sits herself down on the ground and starts to play with the

cuffs of her pants. Eric sits down next to her.)

Ugh, I’m so glad it’s Friday. I hate having to get up early for school.

ERIC Yeah, same.

PSYDNEY So, how was your day?

ERIC Fine.

PSYDNEY Listen I know that this is only our second date, but I think I know you well enough to know when something’s wrong. What’s up?

ERIC Listen Psydney, I really like you, and that wasn’t supposed to happen.

PSYDNEY Oh, I see. Well I’m sorry for using my feminine wiles on you.

ERIC No, it’s not that. I did something, that, I guess I shouldn’t have done.

PSYDNEY Tell me. I promise I won’t get mad.

ERIC You have to promise that you’ll forget I did this and just focus on how I feel about you now. Ok? PSYDNEY (Lets out a short laugh and grabs ERIC’s hand.)

Okay, I promise. I’ll completely forget whatever past sins you’ve committed and focus on the ones you’re going to commit.

ERIC (He inhales deeply then lets out a large sigh.)

I asked you out, because, well that’s not important. The truth is that I was supposed to ask you out and then dump you so that people would hate you. I’m sorry, now that I know you I wouldn’t event think of doing it.

PSYDNEY I see. How can I know this isn’t just more of your plan? How can I trust you to be truthful anymore?

ERIC I don’t know. I was hoping that you would just forgive and forget.

PSYDNEY Eric, things aren’t that easy. Not everything is going to end up as you want it.

ERIC I know, and I am eternally grateful to you for not walking out on me immediately.

PSYDNEY Gratitude accepted ERIC Listen, I want to still see you. So how about we meet here every night? Or if you want to do it some other time that would be fine too. I just think that nights would be best, since no one would see us. What do you think? Will you still go out with me?

PSYDNEY Ugh, I hate relationships. Yes I’ll still go out with you. I’m not that cruel and shallow of a girl.

Night is fine for me.

ERIC Great! And, um, if you wouldn’t mind, not telling anyone. If people ask, we broke up, right?

PSYDNEY Right, you met me here, you told me to bug off. I cried, you laughed, the whole shebang. And don’t worry, nobody will know. We’ll be like a sadder version of Romeo and Juliet, much, much sadder.

(The lights go out in the hallway and come up in the classroom.

VENESSA is sitting with her head on her desk. ERIC comes in and she perks up, looking at him eagerly.)

VENESSA So, how was it? Did you let her down brutally or just give her the slow let down? Tell me all the details. I hope she cried.

ERIC Oh it was brutal, and yeah, she cried.

VENESSA (Lets out a little squeal.)

Oh, keep going, come on, what did you do next?

(She leans in eagerly)

ERIC You know, the normal. I broke her heart, she thought we had something special. It was a textbook breakup.

VENESSA This is almost too good to be true. I can’t believe she actually said that. God, she’s dumber than I thought…

ERIC Yeah, pretty dumb huh?

VENESSA I need to call Junie and tell her all about this.

(She pulls out her cell phone and starts to call someone.)

Junie, hey girl, guess what?

(ERIC turns around and stares at his hands. VENESSA’s voice fades out as the lights in the classroom dim and the lights come up (dimly) in the hallway. PSYDNEY enters and sits down in the middle. She is obviously waiting for ERIC and is confident that he will come. She is humming to herself. ERIC enters a few seconds later and sits down next to her.)

ERIC Psydney?

PSYDNEY Mhmm?

ERIC Do you like my sister?

PSYDNEY Venessa? She’s okay, but I think I like you better. Why? ERIC Do you talk to her often?

PSYDNEY Nope, can’t say that I do.

ERIC When she talks to you, and trust me she will, don’t tell her anything. She’s fickle, and will stop at nothing to ruin your life.

PSYDNEY

God, you make her sound like a demon.

ERIC Well, I was trying to be subtle about it.

PSYDNEY ERIC! ERIC Psydney, listen, I’m not trying to be mean. She’s my sister, of course I love her, but there are just some things that… well you know.

PSYDNEY Okay, I promise I won’t give in to the charms of your sister.

ERIC Or anyone else for that matter. Let’s just keep this whole thing a secret, okay?

PSYDNEY Okay, okay, I promise that this will just be between you and me.

ERIC Thank you.

(He leans in and kisses her on the mouth. Afterwards they both smile at each other and the lights go down in the hallway and come up in the classroom. VENESSA is sitting at her normal desk. ERIC walks in, but this time places a note on the teacher’s desk, which the teacher doesn’t notice. ERIC sits down and VENESSA starts to talk.)

VENESSA Did you actually give the teacher a note?

ERIC Yeah, I was late for class, so I gave him a note.

VENESSA Eric, in case you haven’t noticed, he doesn’t care. He sits there all day reading his newspaper while we talk and sleep. He’s not gonna care about a stupid late slip.

ERIC I just figured that if Mr. Zefeus came in at all.

VENESSA

Eric, if Mr. Zefeus taught this class, do you think that I would sleep through it? He is the coolest principal in the world. Also, he is not our teacher. So get over it.

ERIC God, okay, I’m sorry.

VENESSA Apology accepted. So you got home late last night. Where’d you go?

ERIC Uh, the guys and I just went out for a little, just to hang out.

VENESSA Figures, you men are all alike. You have to go out and mark your territory. I get how it is.

ERIC Yep, marking the territory, that’s EXACTLY what we do.

VENESSA Don’t I know it. So listen, Junie and I are going to the mall later today, and we’re thinking of inviting Psydney. I’ll suddenly become the best friend who helps her overcome her terrible let down. Then right when the little snipe thinks she’s safe, I’ll splatter her life all over the walls.

It’ll be perfect!

ERIC Sounds a little cruel.

VENESSA I know that’s what I’m good for.

(The bell rings and everyone gets up to leave. The lights in the hallway start to come up. After both ERIC and VENESSA have left the classroom the lights in the classroom go down.

PSYDNEY is in the hallway. VENESSA walks up to her.)

VENESSA Hey Psyd, is it all right if I call you Psyd? Good. Well anyway, I just wanted to invite you to the mall with me. Junie and I are going there after school and I thought it would be nice for you to come along with us. I just feel so horrible after what my brother did.

(ERIC walks by and makes eye contact with PSYDNEY. She winks at him and then turns back to VENESSA.) PSYDNEY Sure, I would love to go with you guys.

VENESSA Great! We can have girly talks and share our life stories. We’ll pick you up around five, k?

(She flounces off the stage, hair bouncing behind her back. PSYDNEY stands in place mocking

her girlish, dumb blonde attitude. When VENESSA is out of sight she turns around and heads off to class. The hallway clears and the lights dim. ERIC enters from off stage. PSYDNEY follows shortly after waving to someone off stage) PSYDNEY Bye guys! Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow at school. Thanks for the mall!

(She turns around and skips over to ERIC, sitting down next to him.)

Well, that was fun.

ERIC Who was that?

PSYDNEY Oh, Venessa and Junie.

ERIC What did she want?

PSYDNEY Relax, they were just taking me to the mall. It wasn’t anything bad, and I didn’t tell them about us.

ERIC Psydney, you have to be careful. V is tricky, she’ll make you tell her things that you didn’t even know you knew.

PSYDNEY Don’t worry, I’m a smart girl, I’ll be okay.

(They hug and the lights go down in the hallway, the lights come up in the classroom. Everyone is crowded around VENESSA, they’re mouthing words and the announcements are covering anything that might be heard.)

ANNOUNCER … And now, for the moment you’ve all been waiting for. The ballots have been counted and the contestants in the running for Prom Queen are written down.

(The people in the classroom all calm down and stop talking.)

Congratulations to Venessa Lincoln and Psydney Troy for being chosen as the Prom Queen hopefuls.

(The announcements go out and the classroom becomes the main focus. VENESSA says immediately after the announcements are off, very loudly) VENESSA WHAT? (No one talks they just stare at her in disbelief.)

How dare she! I’m the only Prom Queen, it’s always been me! A junior, can you believe it? A JUNIOR! This is the end of her.

(The lights go down in the classroom and come up in the hallway where PSYDNEY is standing by her locker. When VENESSA walks into the hallway she goes up to her.)

PSYDNEY Venessa, hey congratulations on your nomination. I can’t believe they nominated me too. I don’t think I’m any comparison to you.

VENESSA Well you’d be thinking right.

(She says under her breath, PSYDNEY doesn’t hear it.)

PSYDNEY Hey, listen can you tell your brother something for me?

VENESSA Yeah, sure.

PSYDNEY I have to hang with my folks tonight so I’m not gonna be able to meet him.

VENESSA You were gonna meet him at school tonight?

PSYDNEY Yeah, I’m not supposed to tell anyone, but, we’ve been secretly seeing each other at school for about a month now. We meet at night for a while and then during the day we pretend like nothing’s happening.

VENESSA So it’s like you guys are… dating?

PSYDNEY That’s exactly what it is. I mean I really like him, and I think that he really likes me too. I’m so excited. Just tell him I’m sorry I can’t make it okay?

(She starts walking off stage.)

Thanks Venessa!

VENESSA Oh don’t worry, it’s my pleasure.

(VENESSA walks off stage smiling to herself. The lights dim after she has left the stage, it is now night and ERIC enters the hallway.)

ERIC

Psydney? Hey Psyd, are you here?

(Venessa enters) VENESSA Hmm, now there was something I was supposed to tell you. Oh what was it? Ah, that’s right.

Precious Psydney can’t make it tonight she has to take care of family things. But don’t worry, she misses you very much and is “so sorry” that she couldn’t make it.

(She laughs.)

Honestly Eric, how long did you think it would take for me to find out?

ERIC I told her not to tell you.

VENESSA Oh come off it, she’s too innocent to know anything. All I had to do was make her think that we were friends. After that she was eating out of the palm of my hands.

ERIC Fine then, you win. What do you want me to do?

VENESSA Tomorrow, when you go into school, you are going to break up with her. I’ll make it seem like she hurt you and now you can’t go on living. In other words, I’m going to ruin her life, and you are really going to help me this time.

ERIC I hate you.

VENESSA I don’t care, because everyone else loves me.

(ERIC looks like he’s going to say something, but turns around and walks off the stage shaking his head. VENESSA crosses her arms and smirks while the lights go down in the hallway and come up in the classroom. Neither VENESSA nor ERIC are in their seats.

After a few moments of nothing happening PSYDNEY sprints into the room.)

PSYDNEY Hey listen, has anyone here seen Eric? I need to talk to him.

GIRL#1 Why should YOU need to talk to him? After what you did to him, you tramp, I wouldn’t want to talk to you either.

PSYDNEY

What do you mean “what I did”? What did I do?

GIRL #2 You cheated on him. First off, who would do that to Eric? And secondly, what makes you think that you can get more than one guy?

PSYDNEY I don’t understand. I didn’t do any of that. Eric and I, we’re still dating. I, I don’t…

(She hurries out of the classroom. When she leaves the lights dim in the classroom and go up in the hallway. She rushes into the hallway and is met by silence and stares from all of her peers.)

PSYDNEY What? What are you staring at? Stop!

(She starts to make her way through the crowd when VENESSA enters.)

VENESSA I’m sure you have to know why we’re staring at you by now. You didn’t really think that you could keep your secrets from us forever. Cheating on my brother like that, tsk tsk. My poor baby brother is heart broken because of you, you know.

PSYDNEY Venessa, you know I didn’t do that. I love your brother.

(She turns to the crowd.)

Don’t any of you believe me?

(VENESSA walks up close to PSYDNEY so that only the two of them know what is being talked about.)

VENESSA Of course they don’t believe you. They believe me, because I’m the senior. I’ve been here longer and no matter what you or anyone else thinks, I am still better than you will ever be.

PSYDNEY Eric was right about you.

VENESSA Siblings never lie. You should’ve listened to him. Now we’ll see who’s the popular one.

PSYDNEY This is all this is about? You want to be the more popular one? Fine, go ahead, be the popular one, I don’t care. I just want Eric back.

VENESSA Oh suck it up sweetheart, you can’t get him back. He’s mine again. So why don’t you just give up and go back to being a Mathlete?

(PSYDNEY starts to cry and rushes off of the stage. VENESSA

lets out a short laugh and walks off the stage. The people begin to mill around again after a few seconds. the lights go down in the hallway and come up in the classroom. ERIC is sitting slumped over with his head on his desk. Venessa enters, jubilantly swinging her arms.)

Hey there baby brother. How does it feel to be single and free again?

(ERIC’s head remains on his desk VENESSA keeps talking.)

Oh well, I don’t expect you to understand the full good of what I’m doing just yet. Maybe when you’re a little older.

(ERIC picks his head up off of the desk and is just about to say something when the speakers come on.)

ANNOUNCER Pardon the interruption but would Venessa Lincoln, Eric Lincoln and Psydney Troy please report to Mr. Zefeus’ office immediately.

(VENESSA stands up and, followed by ERIC, leaves the room.

The lights go down in the classroom and come up in the hallway.

Mr. Zefeus, a small man wearing a suit, is sitting on the ground appearing to meditate. ERIC and VENESSA are bickering heatedly when they see him.)

VENESSA Mr. Zefeus? Hello, Mr. Zefeus?

(She waves her hand in front of his face.)

Mr. Zefeus?

MR. ZEFEUS Yes Venessa, I could hear you the first time you said my name.

VENESSA Oh, sorry. Um, what are you doing in the hallway? I thought we were supposed to go to your office.

MR. ZEFEUS You were, thank you for listening. However, I thought that it would be better to come to where this whole thing started. Now pop a squat while we wait for the third party.

(At that moment PSYDNEY scurries onto the stage with her head down. She almost trips over the three people in the middle of the hall but recovers herself.)

PSYDNEY Mr. Zefeus! What are you doing here, I was just going to your office.

MR. ZEFEUS Another attentive listener!

(He turns to ERIC) Either it’s my lucky day, or you have great taste in women.

(He turns back to PSYDNEY) Sit down my dear, we have some things that need to be sorted out.

(PSYDNEY sits down) VENESSA Mr. Zefeus, I’m very glad that you’ve decided to reprimand this little tramp. But is it really necessary for me to be here?

MR. ZEFEUS Venessa, come now, I’ve known you long enough to know that less than half of the stuff coming out of that pretty little mouth is the truth. So stay put, from what Eric tells me you’re the only one that has a problem.

VENESSA Eric?

MR. ZEFEUS Yes, strange to think that someone you know might turn on you isn’t it?

VENESSA Well I don’t know what he’s told you but…

MR. ZEFEUS He’s told me everything, from beginning to, well the end hasn’t been written yet. So tell me.

What is you’re beef with the home dawg having a girl?

VENESSA I don’t have a “beef” with it. He can have whatever girl he wants. I just don’t want him to go out with that girl.

(She motions to PSYDNEY who had been sitting quietly.)

MR. ZEFEUS Why? VENESSA Well look at her! She could hurt my reputation! Take away everything I’ve worked for for over ten years! I am not willing to lose that.

PSYDNEY I don’t want your stupid popularity! I’ll withdraw from that Prom Queen thing, I don’t care. It doesn’t matter to me.

VENESSA You didn’t want to be Prom Queen?

PSYDNEY

No, god no! I hate being at the center of attention. You can have all the attention, I don’t care.

VENESSA Um, I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you want to be Prom Queen? Wow, you’re not only a tramp but your dumb too.

(PSYDNEY lets out an aggravated wail. MR. ZEFEUS butts in.)

MR. ZEFEUS Venessa, when you and Psydney went to the mall, did you have fun?

VENESSA What?

MR. ZEFEUS Did you have fun? It’s a simple question.

VENESSA Yeah, I mean, I guess I did.

MR. ZEFEUS We know Psydney had fun. So why can’t you just admit that you like her and be friends. You teenagers are so moody and trivial sometimes.

VENESSA I guess we could be friends. I mean, as long as it doesn’t start to hurt my rep, cause if it does, you’re out.

PSYDNEY Fine, you can kick me to the curb as long as I can have Eric back.

VENESSA Yeah, take him, he’s become too mopey anyway.

(ERIC and PSYDNEY rush to hold each other. MR. ZEFEUS bounces up off of the ground.)

MR. ZEFEUS Well, I for one am glad that that is over. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to go back to some very trivial yet totally important paperwork.

VENESSA, ERIC and PSYDNEY Bye Mr. Zefeus.

(MR. ZEFEUS walks off of the stage. VENESSA stands up and looks down at the two. She pats ERIC on the head and walks off of the stage. ERIC and PSYDNEY are now alone in the hallway.)

PSYDNEY God am I glad that’s over.

ERIC Yeah, me too.

(They kiss, black out.)

Excerpt from “Only the Good” INT. VIRGINIA’S BEDROOM  NIGHT Virginia’s room is plain. The walls are a light pastel color. Above her bed is a cross.

Virginia is sitting on a stool near a small mirror on the wall, but not looking into it. She is absentmindedly brushing her hair. It is longer than would be expected. She always wears it pulled back in a tight bun.

VIRGINIA (brushing hair, humming) She is snapped out of her dream by the sound of something tapping. She looks around her room and sees that it is coming from her window. A hand is coming from behind the wall and making tapping noises with its pointer finger on her window.

She goes over to investigate, opens the window just enough to pole her head out and look to the side.

CUT TO: EXT. VIRGINIA’S BEDROOM  NIGHT Billy is sitting crouched beside her window.

VIRGINIA (shocked) How did you get up here?

BILLY I flew.

He makes small flapping motions with his arms before pointing to the lattice fence that scales the side of the house.

BILLY I climbed up that little thing you got there.

Virginia leans out the window to look down.

VIRGINIA (suddenly recoils) I’m sorry, but you must go.

BILLY Why? VIRGINIA My father said that you are taking me farther away from God. I really have to go.

She begins to go inside. Billy reaches out to stop her from going back in and accidentally grabs her bare wrist. They both flinch. Billy quickly withdraws his hand.

Virginia blinks a few times. Barely noticeable in the shot, she takes her wrist and presses the back of it to the side of her neck.

VIRGINIA (sits comfortably on window sill) Listen, why don’t you just tell me why you’re here?

BILLY Well, I came here, to, uh, have you ever been to the carnival?

VIRGINIA (laughs quietly) No, my parents don’t want any of us to go to the carnival. They say it’s just a modern form of devil worship.

BILLY

Okay, two questions, are your parents insane?

Virginia smiles a little.

BILLY And secondly, what do you mean us?

VIRGINIA Us, as in me and my siblings.

BILLY How many of “us” is there?

VIRGINIA Let’s see, Virginia starts to tick the names off on her fingers.

VIRGINIA ...there’sRebekah, she’s nineteen, me, John, who’s fifteen, Sarah’s thirteen, Ruth’s nine, Gabriel’s six, and Caleb is the youngest, he just turned two. In all there are seven of us, and we’re all roughly three years apart.

BILLY You’re parents must have been pretty busy. So where do you fit in?

VIRGINIA (holds up her hands) Well, in the finger model, (wigglespointerfinger onright hand) I would be this one.

BILLY (laughs) An awkward pause.

VIRGINIA (hands drop with a THUMP into her lap) You still never told me why you came here.

BILLY Well, see, I was planning on inviting you to the, the Carnival. Uh, would you like to go?

VIRGINIA Oh, um, Billy, that’s really nice and all, but I shouldn’t even be out here. I’m sorry if I gave you

the wrong impression. Please, just go home. I’m sorry. (looks into her room at a clock) I have been out here way too long, I’m sorry but I really need to go.

She tries to pick up the window enough to slide under.

BILLY Here, let me help you.

VIRGINIA No, no please, I’ve got it.

BILLY (approaches the window and begins to tug) I’m a guy it’s proven we’re stronger than you.

The window shoots upwards.

BILLY (topples backwards, his hand on his nose) Ah shit, my nose!

VIRGINIA Oh my goodness! Oh, are you okay?

BILLY (grunting) VIRGINIA (approaches Billy) Oh no, oh no, can I do something? Let me help you.

BILLY (holds up his hand to stop her) I think you would be helping best if you just stayed right there.

VIRGINIA I think it may be bleeding.

BILLY Oh, really?

VIRGINIA (strictly) Stay right here.

BILLY Where else would I go?

Virginia goes into her room and out the door and into the hallway.

CUT TO: INT. PARKER HOUSE SECOND FLOOR HALLWAY  NIGHT Virginia is scurrying down the hallway towards the bathroom. A door opens.

MOTHER Virginia, is everything all right?

Virginia is startled by her mother’s voice and accidentally runs into a wall. She covers gracefully however by making it appear that she was just trying to turn around. She looks at her mother innocently.

VIRGINIA Yes mother, of course, why do you ask?

MOTHER (steps out of bedroom into hallway) Well, I thought that I heard some noise just now, coming from your bedroom. Are you sure everything is all right?

VIRGINIA (chuckles a little) Oh yes, everything is fine. You just heard me stub my toe as I was getting up. You see I have to go to the bathroom, and it was dark in my room so I didn’t see the bedside table when I got up.

You know how stubborn those things can be sometimes.

Virginia’s mother looks unconvinced but smiles none-the-less.

MOTHER (smiling) All right then. Well, good night Virginia.

She nods her head at her daughter and gives her a close lipped smile before going back into her room and closing the door.

Virginia turns around slowly. Her face shows a mixture of horror and happiness. She is torn over the thing she has just done She continues down the hallway and into the bathroom.

CUT TO: EXT. VIRGINIA’S BEDROOM  NIGHT Through the window, we see Virginia enter her bedroom and cautiously close the door. She is carrying hydrogen peroxide, bandages, and some cotton balls. She is still in somewhat of a funk over what happened between her and her mother.

She walks over to the window and sets down the things in her arms before climbing out of the window and sitting in front of Billy.

VIRGINIA Let me see your nose.

Billy takes his hand away from his nose. It isn’t as bad as expected. In fact it is barely bleeding.

Virginia begins to put some hydrogen peroxide on a cotton ball. As she is doing this she does a double take of his nose and smile softly to herself when she knows he made a big deal over nothing.

BILLY That bad, huh?

VIRGINIA I must say, this is one of the more intense scratches I’ve seen in my life. I think you may have lost a good four drops of blood.

Billy looks at the hand that had been covering his nose. There is a small blood stain about the size of a dime. He laughs to himself.

BILLY You must think I’m a total loser to sit here crying about a scrape on my nose.

VIRGINIA Don’t worry, I have three younger brothers, I’m used to seeing boys cry.

She puts the cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide gently on his nose. For a moment they are silent.

Billy winces in pain and you can hear the slight bubbling of the peroxide. She takes away the cotton ball and gently blows of the cut.

Billy is still looking at her as she takes out a band-aide from a small tin box.

VIRGINIA I had thought that I might need a bigger size, but, I guess I’ll have to reserve those for the next time you hurt yourself. Maybe then you’ll actually move up from scrapes to cuts.

She takes the plastic off of the band-aide and places it over the cut. When finished she sits back

on her ankles and gives a satisfied look to her work.

She then starts to clean up, putting the bandages back into the small tin box and putting the lid back on the bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

Once finished she picks everything up and sets them back in her room. She climbs back through her window and gets safely into her room. Once in she turns back around and looks at Billy who is still sitting in the same place.

VIRGINIA Well, I guess now that you’re all patched, you’re going to want to get out of this dangerous place.

Billy looks down at his knees.

BILLY You know, my offer still stands.

VIRGINIA What offer?

BILLY The Carnival. It doesn’t close until eleven.

He raises his shoulders and smiles hopefully.

VIRGINIA Billy, I… BILLY Just take a few seconds and think about it. What could it hurt? You’d just go out for maybe an hour and go on some rides. Heaven forbid you might actually eat some caramel corn and enjoy yourself.

Virginia is still unsure. You can tell that she wants to go, but is torn over how she lied to her mother.

VIRGINIA Billy, I’m sure that you’re a really nice guy, but I just don’t know if this whole friendship thing would work.

BILLY All right, well, if you don’t come with me willingly, I will have to take you by force. You need some fun in your life.

VIRGINIA I beg your pardon. I have fun in my life.

She says this only half-convincingly. After she says it though, she realizes how untrue that statement was. She then sighs.

VIRGINIA How could you tell?

BILLY Please, I saw that nightgown that you wore yesterday. Anyone that wears a scratchy, white thing to sleep in does not have fun in their life.

Virginia seems to accept this as a fact.

BILLY You also don’t wear your hair down.

The speed and sureness with which he says this catches Virginia completely off guard. She touches her hair, which she still has not pulled back.

VIRGINIA I don’t always wear my hair back. Right now, it’s not up.

BILLY (assuringly) And it looks great. You should wear it down more often. But you’re avoiding my question. Will you go to the Carnival?

Virginia is still unsure. She looks at everything except Billy. She bites her lip in contemplation.

Billy knows that this is hard decision for her. He sticks out his hand for her to take.

BILLY (softly) Come on, I’ll be a perfect gentleman, and it’ll only be for an hour. I promise.

Virginia looks first at his hand and then at him. There is something about his look that makes him seem trustworthy. Virginia looks at his hand again. She raises her hand but pauses before she places it is his she looks at him again.

VIRGINIA Just for an hour?

Billy nods his head, and Virginia smiles. She places her hand in his and he pulls her through the window.