33.

And then—
the song CHANGES to the next track on In the
Heat of the Night: “Don’t Let it Show.”

BLANCHE leans back against the sofa.

START:
She belches loudly.

Blanche
Oops.
Sexy!

STELLA laughs.

BLANCHE lets out a huge sigh.

She listens to the music.
Her face contorts, and she sits up and shouts:

Hey, Alexa: play “Love is a Battlefield”—

Stella
It’s not an Alexa; it’s a Victrola/—

Blanche
/Make it stop.

STELLA walks over to the Victrola and takes off the

needle. Shuts it off.

BLANCHE sighs.

Ahhh. Much better.

STELLA walks back towards the couch. She plops down

on the floor. The wind is clearly out of her sails—

But BLANCHE is far too wrapped up in her own

ecstasy to notice.

Now that was a good night.

STELLA looks down.

Don’t you think so? Don’t you think that was a good night?

Stella
Uh huh.
 34.

BLANCHE turns to STELLA. She notices her forlorn

expression.

Blanche
What’s wrong?

Stella
Oh, nothing—

Blanche
I thought you liked it. Didn’t you like it?

Stella
I did, just—

nevermind.

Blanche
What?

Stella
It’s silly.

Blanche
Tell me, what?

Stella
I guess I just really wish I got that guy’s number. Okay?

Blanche
Which one? The General?

Stella
Ew, no, he was like 50.

BLANCHE shrugs.

I mean the other one.

Blanche
You’re going to have to be a little more /specific
 35.

Stella
/The cute one.

Blanche
Okay, well, that actually does narrow it down a bit.

Stella
The law student—

Blanche
OH! You mean the Indian /guy?

Stella
/Pakistani.
Yeah.
I mean—he’s from Maryland, but his parents are from Pakistan.

Blanche
Oh. Yeah.
He’s kinda cute.
Not my type, but—

Stella
Yeah, well
we had a really nice conversation about Jane Austen, and /now—

Blanche
/Is he gay?

Stella
No!

Blanche
Just asking!

Stella
I mean—I guess I don’t know how he identifies—but no, I don’t think so.

Blanche
Well, that’s great! You should text him.

Stella
I totally would text him, except I’m a big dumb weirdo who was too scared to get
his number.
 36.

Blanche
Oh. Right. Damn.
Why didn’t you?

Stella
I don’t know!

STELLA groans and flops onto the couch dramatically.

Blanche
I’m sorry, Stell. Maybe you’ll run into him again.

Stella
Or maybe I’ll just die alone.

Blanche
Don’t say that.

STELLA turns her back to BLANCHE and begins to

curl up into a ball.

Hey—

BLANCHE puts a hand on her back.

She unrolls and looks at her.

I’m sure you’ll find someone else. Why don’t we go out again tomorrow?

Stella
I don’t want someone else, I want the cute guy I was talking to about Jane Austen. Do
you know how rare it is to find a guy who actually likes Jane Austen?

Blanche
Again: are we sure he isn’t gay?

STELLA groans again, and rolls over.

Okay, well—
I can’t guarantee you’ll find that again
but you’ll find something.
I promise.
I mean, god, Stella, look at you:
you’re fucking gorgeous, do you know that?

Stella
No I’m not. I’m disgusting.
 37.

Blanche
No, you aren’t.
Did you see the way men looked at you tonight?

Stella
That’s because you dressed me—

Blanche
No—it’s because of you.
And also partially because I dressed you—

Stella
See??

Blanche
But you’ll learn.
It’s all a game anyway.

STELLA rolls over.

Stella
What does that mean?

Blanche
I mean, they’re all the same.
Literally.
You saw that smile I gave that guy when we walked in?

Stella
Which guy?

Blanche
The hot one.

Stella
The blond?

Blanche
No, the General.

STELLA shudders.

He was hot in a “daddy” kind of way—

Stella
Ew—
 38.

Blanche
Anyway—that look, you give it to someone, they’re yours.

Stella
What look?

BLANCHE shoots STELLA The Look to End All

Looks.

It’s intense.
A bit creepy.
And glazed.
Like she’s taken the childlike intensity of her
vulnerableness and pre-packaged it for consumption.
Or poorly attempting to emulate a Cindy Crawford ad
from the 1990s.

That one?

Blanche
Uh huh.

Stella
And it works?

Blanche
You saw it yourself. Look how many numbers I got tonight.

BLANCHE shows STELLA her phone.

On it are over 20 new texts from new numbers without

contact names.

Stella
Holy shit.

She scrolls through them.

Who are these people??

BLANCHE shrugs.

Ben?

Blanche
Don’t remember.
 39.

Stella
Josh?

Blanche
Don’t remember.

Stella
Nick?

Blanche
I think he was the actor? Or the lawyer? Or the actor-lawyer? Don’t remember.

Suddenly, STELLA gets to another number.

Stella
Oh.

Blanche
What?

STELLA laughs a little. She lowers BLANCHE’s

phone sheepishly.

Stella
I uh
I guess I’m not upset I didn’t get that guy’s number after all.

Blanche
Why not?

Stella
Because apparently he was more into you.

BLANCHE takes the phone from STELLA. Reads.

Blanche
Oh.
Weird.

Stella
Why didn’t you just tell me you got his number?

Blanche
I—
I didn’t remember.

BLANCHE reads the text again.

 40.

Huh.
“Arman.”

He used the word “exquisitely.”

BLANCHE laughs.
END
STELLA turns away.
She busies herself clearing up the pizza boxes.

Huh.

STELLA attempts to pick both boxes up at once.

She ends up fumbling them, and they CRASH to the
ground, spilling pizza remnants all over the rug.

Stella
Shit.

Blanche
What happened?

Stella
I dropped the—shit—

Blanche
Oh, it’s just the boxes. Here, I’ll—

Stella
(Snapping.)
No!

BLANCHE stares at STELLA, taken aback.

STELLA breaks down in tears.

Sorry—I just—need a—

She runs off into her bedroom and closes the door behind
her.

BLANCHE sighs.
She picks herself up off the floor and walks over to the
bedroom door.
STELLA is clearly crying behind it.

BLANCHE knocks.