Act I
(Two girls sit in the back of a classroom during class. One, Maura — 17, beautiful, stylish, angel-faced, with a bad reputation — sits at a desk. The other, Mary — 16, quiet, soft-spoken, drab — sits at a desk)
Maura: Hey, Mar. (Pauses) Do you have a pen I can borrow?
Mary: Yes, Maur, but I’ve already given you four this week.
Maura: (Pleadingly) Come on Mary, this will be my last one. I promise.
Mary: You really need to buy your own pack.
Maura: Yes, I know Mar, I promise I’ll go to the store right after school.
Mary: (Sighs, hands her a pen) OK, but this is the last one for a while.
Maura: (Smiles) Thanks, Mar, you’re the coolest.
Mary: (Smiles back softly) You too, Maura.
Maura: So we’re hanging out tonight, right?
Mary: (Hesitantly) I’m not sure, Ellen invited me to her sleepover tonight. It’s her birthday … and … I kind of just … wouldn’t feel right about … skipping it. You know?
Maura: (Laughing) Are you serious?
Mary: Well, yeah. Besides, we’ve been spending so much time together lately anyway, I really didn’t … see it as a big deal?
Maura: Not a big deal? Mar, come on, I scored this bottle of sangria just for us! Do you realize how difficult that was for me to do? Not to mention that I’ve been taking such a risk by hanging out with you so much lately anyway. Do you know what my friends would say if they found out I’ve been hanging around with Mary, Mother of Jesus for the past couple of weeks? After all I’m doing for you, I can’t believe you’re going to skip out on our plans for a bunch of fricken’ losers! I mean I knew you were at least sort of lame, but come on Mar, that’s low.
Mary: (Apologetically) Oh gosh, I’m sorry Maura, I didn’t realize how much tonight meant to you. I mean, I can tell Ellen I have a family thing or something. I’m sure it won’t be a big deal.
Maura: (Pauses in frustration, then begins to smile) Thank you Mar, I knew you wouldn’t do that to me. I’m sorry I snapped at you. (Grabs her hand) I was trying so hard to tell all my other friends just how cool you were the other day, but they just wouldn’t believe me. It doesn’t matter though, I know you’re cool and that’s all that matters, girl.
Mary: (Smiles, looks at her hand in Maura’s) Thank you Maura. So where do you want me to meet you again?
(The bell rings)
Maura: Down by the river at 10 o’clock! Don’t be late!
Mary: Wouldn’t dream of it!
Act II
(Maura sits on the water’s edge where light from the houses across the way reflects on the surface, slightly out of sight with a bottle of wine. Mary slowly approaches, slightly confused on the exact location of where they are meeting)
Maura: I’m over here, Mar!
Mary: (Smiles, walks over and sits down next to Maura) Wow. (Surveying the location) This place is a lot nicer than I expected.
Maura: What were you expecting?
Mary: I don’t know. Not this.
Maura: (Reassuringly) Mar, I always make sure my hangout spots are at least a little less trashy than I am.
Mary: (Hesitantly) Oh hush, you’re not trashy.
Maura: You’d be surprised how many people think differently.
Mary: Hm.
Maura: So your dorky friends didn’t have a problem, right?
Mary: No, they understood. (Smiles)
Maura: Good, because if they didn’t, I think me and them would have a problem.
(Mary giggles)
Maura: So what do you say we pop this shit open?
Mary: Sounds good to me.
(Maura opens bottle and takes a swig, then passes it to Mary. They continue to pass it back and forth)
Maura: Have you ever played “I’ve Never?”
Mary: No, what’s that?
Maura: OK, so you put your hands up, all 10 fingers showing. Then I would say, “I’ve never spoken to Maura Jones,” and if you have — which you have and in fact are doing right now — then you would put a finger down. If you haven’t, then your finger stays up. Got it?
Mary: I think so.
Maura: Good, fingers up.
(Both girls put up their hands.)
Maura: OK, I’ve never … gotten an A on a test.
Mary: Wait, what?
Maura: You heard me.
Mary: Uh … is it possible to put all my fingers down?
(Maura chuckles, Mary’s finger goes down)
Mary: OK, I … Uh … I’ve never been grounded.
Maura: (Puts a finger down) Sike. (Puts it back up) My parents don’t really care enough about me to ground me.
Mary: Oh.
Maura: Yeah. Well, I’ve never been out of Pennsylvania.
Mary: (Puts a finger down) Last summer my family went to Rome.
Maura: Rome?
Mary: Yeah, Italy? They had great pizza.
Maura: I would imagine. Dude, the day I turn 18 (claps hands together), I’m taking the first flight to Timbuctoo.
Mary: Timbuctoo?
Maura: Timbuctoo, anywhere. I just want out girl, you know? (Drops hands)
Mary: Why?
Maura: I just hate it here. I’ve seen everything to see. I’ve done everything to do. The only thing worth staying for is, well, this. (Motions around)
Mary: What is … this?
Maura: You know, sitting out on the river bank on a Friday night with a bottle of sangria and someone who means the world to you. I just really feel like this is the only thing that really matters. That this is what it’s all about.
Mary: What what’s all about?
Maura: Just … living.
Mary: Oh.
Maura: Yeah. (Takes a swig from the bottle)
Mary: (Puts hands on knees) You know, I’ve never kissed a girl before.
Maura: Oh.
(Maura leans in slowly, and kisses Mary. Mary’s face and speech express sudden realization as to “This is not who I truly am” and “How did I get myself into this situation?” She gets up to leave)
Mary: (Stuttering) Actually Maura, I think I have to go.
Maura: But … You’ve only been here for 15 minutes.
Mary: I-I’m sorry Maura, I’ve just … really gotta go. (Runs off)
(Maura takes the last sip of the bottle as tears start to well up in her eyes. She pauses briefly and looks at it, then she chucks the bottle into the river)
Maura: It was worth a shot.
Rachel Levin, an openly pansexual female and aspiring writer, was born and raised in Philadelphia and now lives in Abington.