Grand Ghoulish: II-I. Sex, Motels, and Voicemails

II-I. SEX, MOTELS, AND VOICEMAILS

THE MUSTY DARKNESS OF A ROOM AT A ROADSIDE MOTEL IN SOME FORGOTTEN CORNER OF SANTA ANA. HAROLD AND SOPHIA LOSE THEMSELVES IN EACH OTHER.

NARRATOR: (VOICE-OVER) Their first hotel room felt like a lifetime ago. This one was their second room this week. Another stolen moment in a summer of stolen moments. They stole kisses at a mall like a couple of teenagers cutting class. Text messages became love notes. Love notes evolved into voicemails. Voicemails slipped into hushed late-night calls. Long drives and short make-out sessions in parking lots and malls quickly abandoned for more hotel rooms and lunch at her favorite places. And when Sophia paid with cash, Harold never asked why.

A PHONE RINGS AND RINGS AND RINGS…

SOPHIA ROLLS ATOP HAROLD, ANSWERS PHONE.

SOPHIA: (TO PHONE) I’m busy. What do you want?

SHE LISTENS AND “UH-HUHS” ALONG, ROLLS EYES, GESTURES, “BLAH-BLAH-BLAH.”

(GROWLS) Goodbye, Oliver…

SHE HANGS UP, TOSSES THE PHONE ASIDE.

(TO HAROLD) Where were we?

SHE PAWS AND NIBBLES HAROLD.

HAROLD: Everything cool?

SHE STOPS, LOOKS AT HAROLD AS IF HE’S THE STUPIDEST MAN ALIVE.

SOPHIA: What? Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Why?

HAROLD: He just called.

SOPHIA: For fuck’s sake… You’re not going to start being a little bitch about this, are you?

HAROLD: (LIES POORLY) No… It’s just… isn’t this even a little fuckin’ weird to you?

SOPHIA: That’s funny… 

SHE ROLLS OFF HAROLD, GATHERS HER CLOTHES.

I didn’t know that was your conscience inside me a minute ago. My bad.

SOPHIA DISAPPEARS INTO THE SHOWER.

A BEAT.

HAROLD: (SIGHS) Goddammit.

END SCENE.