(A high school bathroom. Several stalls, and perhaps some urinals we don’t need to see. The door to the bathroom swings open. Enter JAKE, 18 and wearing some version of a tux. MUSIC streams in through the open door. Beat.)
JAKE
Sawyer?
(SAWYER, same age, calls out from inside one of the stalls. We probably see his ankles, but that’s about it.)
SAWYER
In here.
JAKE
Are you OK?
SAWYER
I guess. Did Mara send you?
JAKE
Nah. She’s fingerpainting slash dancing with the cheerleaders. I told her Isaac spiked the punch, and now she thinks she’s drunk.
SAWYER
Isaac didn’t spike the punch?
JAKE
McGovern.
SAWYER
He caught him?
JAKE
They had “the moment.”
SAWYER
(Doing Mr. McGovern:)
“I know you’re going to be one of the good ones.”
JAKE
Isaac cracked like a nacho.
SAWYER
It won’t last.
JAKE
Just long enough for the punch bowl to stay virgin for one night.
(Beat.)
I think it’s one of those mass suggestion things, ’cause everybody’s dancing sloppy drunk and rubbing themselves with paint and I know pretty much for a fact they’re stone cold sober.
(Beat.)
You should come see it.
SAWYER
Is Tulip finger dancing?
JAKE
Yeah. She was with Mara when I left. Supposedly it washes out.
SAWYER
Cool. Never saw this trend coming.
JAKE
Me neither, and to think they started it at our school. Crazy.
(Beat.)
So are you like…like what’s up?
SAWYER
What do you mean?
JAKE
It’s been 20 minutes.
SAWYER
Really?
JAKE
(Checking his phone:)
Actually, 21 now. So what’s up?
SAWYER
It’s seriously 21 minutes.
JAKE
Yes.
SAWYER
Like you’re actually timing me?
JAKE
You know I can’t help it. But yeah.
SAWYER
Doesn’t that make you nuts to look at something once and know it’s gonna be stuck in your head for months?
JAKE
Don’t change the subject.
SAWYER
But doesn’t it?
JAKE
Yes, but seriously, are you sick or something?
SAWYER
I’m good.
JAKE
Sawyer, please tell me you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.
SAWYER
Ugh. No. How could you think I’m–
JAKE
You’re alone in a stall for 21 minutes–you are alone, right?
SAWYER
Oh my god, Jake!
JAKE
Sorry.
SAWYER
I’m just…thinking.
JAKE
Like actually thinking.
(Beat.)
Thinking isn’t some new code for–
SAWYER
No! I’m contemplating my life.
JAKE
Are you dying?
SAWYER
Why would you think I’m dying?
JAKE
People don’t contemplate their lives at prom.
SAWYER
(Beat.)
I’m not into Mara.
JAKE
Well, it’s just a prom date.
SAWYER
No. Like I’m not into Mara’s type.
(Pause.)
As in the female type.
JAKE
… Oh.
SAWYER
Contemplating.
JAKE
You can’t tell Mara tonight.
SAWYER
Of course not.
(Beat.)
I think I’ve known since that time in seventh grade when my mom completely spaced on picking me up after soccer and you and your mom gave me a ride home and I was crying, which was totally embarrassing, and you squeezed my shoulder and I jumped and spilled my Coke on your sweats.
(Sawyer steps out of the stall, also wearing some version of a tux. Beat.)
JAKE
Crap.
(Jake goes into another stall.)
SAWYER
Jake?
JAKE
(Beat.)
This is like the world’s biggest coincidence. I too have been contemplating.
SAWYER
…
(Beat.)
I thought you and Tulip were serious.
JAKE
I guess not.
SAWYER
You can’t tell her tonight.
JAKE
Of course not.
SAWYER
(Beat.)
Wait. When you said–wait.
(Sawyer goes back into his original stall.)
SAWYER
When you said you were contemplating, were you contemplating someone in particular?
JAKE
Were you?
(Beat. Both stall doors open. Jake and Sawyer face each other. Beat.)
SAWYER
What do we do now?
JAKE
I’m gonna wash my hands. That stall is gross.