The Parking Garage

(A parking garage.  Cars are backed up to the roof, where our characters—MATT and MOLLY—are sitting on the hood of their car.)

MOLLY:  I guess this is as good a spot as any to see a comet.

MATT:  Why are so many people at the mall when the world’s about to end?

MOLLY:  Shopping makes people feel better?

MATT:  I just needed a belt.  I just didn’t want to wear these pants without a belt.

MOLLY:  Well, we did get the belt.  (Slight pause.)  So I guess the night wasn’t a total disaster.

MATT:  What if we really do die here?  On the roof of a parking garage?  I mean, that would be…Should we leave the car?

MOLLY:  We are not leaving my car.  I love my car.

MATT:  It’s just a car.

MOLLY:  It’s my car.  When it’s your car, we can leave it wherever you want.  My grandfather gave me this car.  I am not leaving—this car.

            (A beat.)

MATT:  You hate your grandfather.

MOLLY:  (Before he can even finish.)  --Not the point, Matthew!

            (A beat.)

MATT:  Remember when you said you were going to Bed Bath and Beyond?

MOLLY:  Yeah?

MATT:  Did you really go to Bed Bath and Beyond or did you just say that so you could go to Pacific Sun and see Trevor?

MOLLY:  I went to Bed Bath and Beyond.

MATT:  No, you didn’t.

MOLLY:  Yes,  I did.

MATT:  Molly—

MOLLY:  First I went to Bed Bath and Beyond, and THEN I went to Pacific Sun to see Trevor.  Okay?

MATT:  Was he there?

MOLLY:  No.  He called out sick.

MATT:  He’s at Krista’s house party.

MOLLY:  He wouldn’t be there.  He hates Krista.

                        (MATT checks his phone.)

MATT:  His Facebook status says ‘At Krista’s House Party.  I love this bitch.’

MOLLY:  I didn’t know you could get service up here.

MATT:  Do you want to go to the party?

MOLLY:  No.  I kinda just want to die.

MATT:  Oh.  Well.  You’re in luck.

MOLLY:  He doesn’t even care that I made that Powerpoint for him on World War II.

MATT:  You did that for him?

MOLLY:  Yeah.

MATT:  That Powerpoint was like—really good.

MOLLY:  I know.

MATT:  What is that, like—our generation’s version of doing somebody’s book report for them?

MOLLY:  He said he’d take me to prom.

MATT:  Like, as an exchange?

MOLLY:  Yeah.

MATT:  That’s gay.

MOLLY:  Don’t say ‘that’s gay.’  That’s offensive.

MATT:  No, it’s not.  Homosexuals are known for their love of free trade.

MOLLY:  You weren’t going to go so—

MATT:  I would have gone if you asked me.

MOLLY:  I wasn’t going to ask you, jackoff.  I’m the girl.  Hello!

MATT:  Well, now, nobody’s going to prom.  See what you did?

            (A beat.)

MOLLY:  Wow.  You’re right.  No more proms.  That’s crazy.

MATT:  No more world either, but yes, proms are the primary loss.

MOLLY:  I should have gone with Jimmy Stevens last year when he asked me.

MATT:  Didn’t he eat seventy-three jello cups one day at lunch on a dare?

MOLLY:  Not everybody’s a rogue scholar, Matthew.

MATT:  It’s Rhode—never mind.  If people were watching us, like right now, like—if we were characters in a play, somebody in the audience would say—High school kids don’t talk like this.

MOLLY:  High school kids don’t.  We do.  We’re an anomaly.

MATT:  Maybe that’s why we’re so unhappy.

MOLLY:  Maybe we’re just teenagers.

MATT:  I don’t really know if I am unhappy.  How do you know if you’re unhappy?

MOLLY:  You don’t know until you’re even unhappier.  It’s a Catch-22.

MATT:  Are you surprised nobody else is getting out of their cars and just walking to wherever it is they want to go?

MOLLY:  You can’t walk anywhere good in the time it’ll take for the comet to hit.  And I mean, how sad would it be if the world ended and you’d just made it to, like, a Cumberland Farms or something?  People want to die somewhere cool.  Like at the beach or something.

MATT:  So, Trevor’s going to die at Krista’s party.

MOLLY:  What an idiot.  Why are all men idiots?

MATT:  Why do girls always ask boys why boys are idiots?

MOLLY:  Who else should we ask?

MATT:  Are you sure your grandfather would want you to die on the roof of a mall parking garage just to save his car?

MOLLY:  Yes, he would.  He was that kind of guy.  That’s why we didn’t get along.  Not the point, Matthew.

MATT:  Do you think Krista would have gotten prom queen?

MOLLY:  I think she would have gotten lizard queen first.  She has scales.

MATT:  That’s a skin disorder.

MOLLY:  Nobody with a skin disorder should be that popular.

MATT:  It’s not really noticeable after she puts the cream on.

MOLLY:  Have you ever put the cream on for her?

MATT:  First of all, ew.  Second of all, I told you, we don’t talk to each other anymore.  We just used to date in seventh grade before her boobs came in and then she only dated athletes.

MOLLY:  Life does have its twists and turns, doesn’t it?

MATT:  I’m sad we’re missing the concert.

MOLLY:  I’m sad there’s no definitive activity to be doing when your life is about to be over, and yet, clearly, it shouldn’t be this.

MATT:  If we could be anywhere, at any time, in history or the future, but we could only be there right now, in this moment, for one moment, where and when would we be?

MOLLY:  I’d like to be at my twenty-first birthday.  I’m assuming I’d be drunk.

MATT:  Don’t be so limited.  I’d like to see the year 3000.  See what happens a thousand years after this comet hits.

MOLLY:  I bet…a thousand years from now…two people who look exactly like us will be sitting somewhere..a field or…I don’t know.  On the hood of a car that was once considered a classic.  And they won’t be about to die.  They’ll just be…hanging out.  Enjoying each other’s company.  Wondering what comes next.

            (MATT looks at MOLLY.  Music starts playing.  It’s a sweet song.  Maybe Eric Clapton.  You know which Eric Clapton, right?)

--Wow.  Seriously?  How appropriate.

MATT:  Hey?

            (She looks at him.)

--Dance with me.

            (She thinks about it.)

MOLLY:  Okay.

            (They hop off the hood and proceed to dance.  It’s very prom-y.)

MATT:  How’s it feel being prom queen?

MOLLY:  You’re adorable.

MATT:  Do you wish I was Trevor?

MOLLY:  God, yes.  Who do you wish I was?

MATT:  Someone with a rocket would be nice.

MOLLY:  I’m going to tell you something.  Something nice.  And I need you to not cry.

MATT:  Have you ever seen me cry?

MOLLY:  I’m just saying—Don’t cry.  If you cry, I’ll cry, and I don’t want to cry, but—You’re my favorite person in the world.

MATT:  I think I’m going to cry.

MOLLY:  Really?

MATT:  No, not at all.  But I appreciate the thought.

MOLLY:  You’re a jerk.

MATT:  But I’m still your favorite person.

MOLLY:  Jesus.

MATT:  You said it, you can’t take it back.  It’s locked in.

MOLLY:  Fine.  Maybe we’ll both get our wish.  Maybe this whole thing is a fantasy.  Maybe the comet will hit, and I’ll open my eyes and I’ll be at my 21^st birthday party and you’ll be in the year 3000 and you’ll be wiped clean from my memory.

MATT:  Or maybe we’ll just be here.  And the cars will all be gone.  And we’ll be able to go to that concert.  And I’ll look amazing with my new belt.

MOLLY:  My ‘maybe’ was better.

MATT:  Mine would be more realistic.

MOLLY and MATT:  Not the point, Matthew.

            (They both smile.  She puts her head on his shoulder.  They dance.)