Mandy, mid-late teens, talking to Zack, same age and totally engaged by his computer or listening to music, in a coffee house.
MANDY
I wonder if you remember me from fifth grade.
I wonder if you even know my name.
Tech-boy? Zack? Hey, Tech-boy?
You're kinda cute. If you'd ever look up from that screen. Maybe I should start a website and then you can read all about me. Mandy Conn: virtual screw-up. Frankly, it would be much better to be a screw-up online than it is in real-life. Online, you can't see your mom's disappointment.
I bet you want to know, don't you? I can tell. Well, then, yeah: the rumor is true... I bought a gun.
It feels good to tell someone that.
The nice thing about having a gun is that people aren't ignoring me now. In fact, next to being Homecoming Queen or Valedictorian, being the weird freak with a gun gets you all sorts of respect. People are nice to me now. No one is writing bad things about me anymore. No one makes rude comments as I walk by.
But the funny thing is...I wouldn't ever hurt anybody. Everyone's so worried that I'm gonna go all crazy and shoot up the school. But how much damage can I really do with a handgun? Besides, if I kill people then everyone will have a reason to hate me so much.
My plan is so much better. I mean, why kill other people when I can just off myself? Guilt lasts longer than revenge. Guilt lasts forever. Like a movie.
I can just see my mom's face. My teachers. People at school. You. Heck, it'll be especially bad for you, because you'll be thinking “I just sat with her at The Bean. She was drinking coffee at my table. And I never even acknowledged her existence.” Boy, it sucks to be you right now, Tech-boy!
I'll tell you what. I like you. I'll give you a chance to say something to me. To acknowledge me. To see me. To give me a reason not to kill myself. I'll even give you a little help.
(She waves to Zack. He sees her and ignores her.)