(Long red, longer silence. Neither one of them has spoken a word for some time now. The girl is looking outside the car, facing away from the boy who is driving. The boy seems uneasy about the silence. He looks constantly over to the passenger's side searching desperately to find anything to start a conversation.)

girl: (Broken out of her trance, turns her face suddenly with a mild confusion toward the boy.) Huh...where?

boy: It's that restaurant on top of a hotel. It spins around. They say, you can see the entire LA from up there. (Seems content with this deliverance. He sounds natural.)

girl: That's cool. (Turns her face away again. She could almost anticipate what's to follow. But she hopes to freeze it in midflight. He's a nice guy; really, he is. Sometimes she wonders if she could love him. But she's happy now. She is happy with the way things are right now. She wishes the boy could understand that.)

boy: (Appears to have read her thought. But this time he is going to give himself a fair chance. He musters more energy. His voice sounds heightened.) You want to go see it sometime? The food there actually isn't very good. The probably never planned on people ordering anything else but coffees and cocktails.

girl: Yeah sure. (The voice is empty. It is one of those bland okays that people give when the don't really understand the question. She doesn't know what to say. She's asked him to take her places; she's asked him to do lots of stuff for her; she should be nicer. She really should, she thinks.)

boy: (Car swerves.) Oh shit, damn LA driver, why doesn't he turn on his stupid blinker. (He feels a little embarrassed. That really isn't him. He isn't mad at that. But he wants to be mad. He wants to be mad, but he can't. Not at her. It's not her fault. He's put himself there. She didn't ask to be nice to her, to like her; she wanted a friend, and he took advantage of the offer.)

boy: (After a long pause, speaks again; he looks straight ahead, afraid to look at her. They are almost to her dormitory. He's tired of guessing; he's tired of hoping, anticipating. He has to stop giving himself excuses and opportunities that never would. He speaks. His voice is dry with a heightened tone of sadness.) You know what, the funniest thing happened the other day when I was driving through here. I stopped right at this intersection waiting for the traffic light to turn green.

girl: (Feels apologetic. She should be nicer, she promises to herself. For the first time tonight, she speaks with a little spark. It is almost enough to pierce the looming air of stifles in the car.) What? There's no traffic light here.

boy: Yeah, I know. I was just waiting for the light that wasn't even there to turn green. (He knows too well what she is doing. She's very good at diffusing him. It almost makes him suspect. Maybe, she's guilty of just a little bit. God damn it, he can't think. He's just going to go through with it.)

girl: You must have felt silly. (She tries again to lighten the air. She could really like him. But she has a boyfriend already. Doesn't he know? Why does he do this to her? Damn it. But inside she feels guilty. She wonders if she could not have been partially at fault.)

boy: Actually it was kinda sad. I was, all the time, there, waiting for the light to turn green. But there was no light. There never was; I waited a long time; but there could never be green light. And you know, I almost couldn't figure that out by myself. (The boy speaks slowly. He speaks pain. He speaks hopelessness, yet, embraces the hopelessness with such determination that he seems to draw strength from it.)

girl: . . . .

boy: .

girl: I am sorry. (She really is. She has known it all the time. She didn't want to know, but she knew.)

(Car pulls by the fire lane; hand brake engaged making a larsh loud sound.)

girl: (Very uneasy. But the worst part is over. She doesn't want to argue with him right now. She can't think. She's not sure what she wants. Can't think right now, she's got to go. She will talk to him about it some other time maybe. Maybe she won't get to talk to him again. She's not sure what's going to happen. But she's got to go now. It's late.) ...Hey, thanks for the ride, I got to go now. Talk to you later okay? (Her voice is nervous. She starts turning and walking toward her dorm before she finishes her good-bye.)

boy: (The boy's voice changes suddenly.) I am sorry. (Speaks hurriedly.) I didn't mean that. I had no right to. It was stupid. (He wants to apologize. He wants to reach out and hold her. He doesn't want it to end this way. It's his fault. It's his fault. A friend. A friend. Damn it, it's better than nothing. Damn it, damn it, he can't go through with it. He can't. He speaks hurriedly, afraid that it may already be too late.)

girl: No don't.... (She can't talk now. She doesn't know what she wants to say. She doesn't know how it should be. She's got to go. It's late. But she can't move. Frozen in her track to escape, she turns around and looks at him. She wants to cry maybe. She wants to say why are you saying this to me; she wants to blame him for misconstruing her friendship. But she can't; it's not fair to him; it's not honest.)

boy: (Long pause again. He looks at her. He realizes that he has written the final chapter of this story. It's a little sad. But he could say he really did love her. He could honestly say that. It's nobody's fault though that things have to end this way. No one is to blame. That's a nice touch of tragedy. He has to finish it off with style now. It will be a good story, he thinks to himself; to the very last line.)

Go inside now. (He summons a warm but commanding tone.) It's cold out here. Come on. Go on home now. You'll freeze your behind out here.

girl: . . .

boy: Hey, I am okay. Get a good night's sleep. You still got morning classes don't you. (Pauses. Watches the girl slowly turn around and walk away. Then calls out.) Hey (loud), you be good to him okay... (He still can't say that hame. No, he guesses it will have to take some time.)

Table of Contents

Index