(Apologies for the formatting. WordPress is not format friendly.)
MATT, a, popular high school senior, nearly 19
PIGGY, a chubby high school junior, 16
The basement of a high school. Present time.
At rise, MATT stands upstage right, with his back
turned. He has something in his hands, but we cannot
There is the sound of a slamming door and footsteps
down a metal staircase. PIGGY appears from the
MATT tosses whatever is in his hands aside, turning
What the hell? What are you doing here?
(MATT crosses his arms defensively while PIGGY pulls
Yeah, it was supposed to rain. I meant what are you doing at school after hours?
(PIGGY straightens, tossing her backpack toward the
wall, near MATT.)
I have permission to use the library after hours. My phone was off, so I didn’t know until I heard the sirens. Anyway, why are you here so late?
None of your business. You’re the loser who was in the library. Don’t you have friends? Do you even go here?
One, I like the library. Two, I don’t have friends. Three, I’ve been a year behind you since I was in first grade.
How come I’ve never seen you before?
Apparently, I’m invisible unless someone wants to make fun of me. I’m Piggy.
(MATT stifles a laugh and sits on the floor next to
(PIGGY plops down next to MATT, her bag between
Well, it’s not on my birth certificate, but try growing up with a funny little nose and a spare tire, and the nicknames make themselves.
(rolling her eyes and sighing)
Like you’d know. Everyone loves you.
They do not—
(He is interrupted by the tiny window near the ceiling
You really didn’t hear the tornado sirens?
(The roaring freight train sound of the passing tornado
stuns them both into silence.)
Yeah, what am I doing here? First, reading and now, not dying. You were saying?
Not everyone loves me. My dad took off when I was six and my mom blamed me. The only reason I might graduate before I’m twenty is because the teachers let me coast so I can play ball. Now my mom is sending me to live with my piece of shit dad because her new boyfriend doesn’t want me around. My name isn’t even Matt. It’s James Matthew Junior. My dad’s James. My granddad was Matthew. He’s the only one who was ever decent to me.
(PIGGY looks at her shoes for a moment, chewing on
her lip while she looks for something to say.)
Matt….why were you down here if you didn’t hear the tornado sirens?
(MATT reaches into the dark corner where he’d tossed
the mysterious object earlier and pulls out
a rope, poorly tied into a noose.)
I can’t get the knot right.
(PIGGY grabs the rope, more annoyed than
Why do guys always do it like that?
Kill yourselves messy. It’s hangings and shotguns and someone has to clean that up. When a woman commits suicide, she takes pills or slits her wrists in a full bathtub.
No offense, but you’re really creepy. Why are you the suicide expert?
(laughing, mocking MATT’S earlier words)
None of your business. Don’t you have friends? Do you even go here? [beat] I’ve lived here since I was six, and other than my family, the only time anyone talks to me, they call me Piggy. Jesus, I’ve been trying to figure out how to do it for years.
Sounds like you already know.
I know how. I just get close and I think, what if tomorrow is better?
What if it’s not?
Then maybe the next day will be.
(They sit in silence, as if contemplating a better
What’s your real name?
It’s Claire. Like in The Breakfast Club. “It’s a fat girl’s name.” Life imitates art.
(She digs in her bag and pulls out an Almond Joy candy
bar, offering it to MATT)
What’s this for?
Eat the Joy part first. Save the rest for tomorrow.
(The lights dim as MATT breaks into a smile.)