“Thanks. I’m glad you’re ascreenwriter.”
She smiles and shakes herhead.
“What aboutyou?”
“What aboutme?”
“Have you been in lovebefore?”
“’Before?’”
“Have youeverbeen inlove?”
“I was madly in love with my high school boyfriend, yes. Peter. He was verynice.”
I almost regret asking. “St. Peter. FromIdaho?”
“Yes. Peter from Idaho. He was a great first boyfriend. He was really cute and sweet and he was…safe.”
“Glad to hear it. So whathappened?”
“Well, I went to college in Boston, he eventually went to Germany, we were supposed to spend that first Christmas break together, but he called and told me that he’d fallen in love with a French girl. So I never saw himagain.”
“Are you kiddingme?”
Sheshrugs.
“He didn’t try to talk to you anymore oranything?”
“He sent a few apology emails, wanting to be friends, but I mean, what was there to talk about. It was over. He broke myheart.”
Well now I know who she was talking to on the phone that first time I saw her, the one who made her smile so beautifully, but I’m searching my memory trying to remember a time when she seemed to be heartbroken at Emerson. There was never a period where she had swollen eyes or missed classes or was out drinking like crazy. “How did you…I mean. Were youupset?”
“Yeah, Braddock. I was upset. But I was also kind of relieved, to be honest. Once I’d gotten busy at Emerson, and was super into writing, it became really obvious that I didn’t have that much to talk to Peter about anymore, and we were growing apart. We didn’t fight or anything, I just…I guess I fell out of love with him. Which was depressing. But at least I got to experience a really nice first love…So that’sthat.”
You areamazing.
“You look surprised. I know—it’s like the only thing I have a relatively healthy attitude about, and I don’t even know why I’m not all broken up about it, but I just like remembering the good times with him. It’sweird.”
I feel myself leaning towards her. I want to kiss her. She leans away from me. “Back towork.”
Perhaps,because I am feeling vulnerable after talking about my terrible ex, I start blabbing on about how we need to make the dialogue “less dialogue-y” while she is typing. She hates it when I go on about this, because dialogue is her thing, but I can’t seem to stop and I can tell it’s getting on her nerves. Without saying a word, she gets up, grabs the roll of duct tape, rips off a piece and sticks it over my mouth. This does shut me up but it also pisses me off. What an asshole. Then she removes my shirt. I am less pissed off, because this is interesting. She disappears behind me, forces my arms behind my back and I feel her duct taping my wrists together.You little minx.This definitely beats “potato chip bag sealer” for best use of duct tape. She frowns at me, but can’t hold the frown for long. She grins. She gets down on her knees, between my legs, unzips me, and does things to my genitals that I am quite certain I will be thinking about daily until Idie.
That doesit.
Erin Duffy owns mycock.
I amruined.
Chapter 14
*Erin*
He hasa strange obsession about home security and my total lack of it. He stopped by the hardware store on the way to my place today, and has brought me a bunch of locks for the sliding windows in my apartment, the kind you screw in place, and a security bar for the front door, that you rest against the bottom of the doorknob. I can’t use it unless Maya is home at night too, which is rare now, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. He doesn’t want anyone breaking in here and stealing my computer with our script on it. I don’t blame him. It’s pretty great. And it’sdone!
We’ve finished the first draft, a few days earlier than expected. It’s amazing how quickly we got work done once I’d figured out how to get Braddock to shut up. Thanks, duct tape and my mouth skills! I can’t wait for our interview in the Writers Guild’s monthlymagazine. I’m such an inspiration for female screenwriters everywhere…As a feminist, I’d just like to make it clear that I gave him really impressive, powerful, socially-progressive blowjobs—with integrity—because I wanted him to shut up and show him who’sboss.
Well anyway, he totally let me write dialogue the way I want to write it, and he says we should celebrate by ordering in from the good Italian place in my neighborhood, and having a great bottle of wine, because he knows I won’t want to go out with him and to his surprise Iagree.
