If Lucy Fell Page #6

---

in which the harsh facts

are scattered

with a rude awakening.

Who said that? Cher?

No. Marie Anne du Deffand.

She's a writer.

You really are funny, you know.

You know what you are?

You're a girl

who stands

zero chance

of ever being kissed

by any other man.

That's what you are.

I got your message,

couldn't call you back

I was busy gettin' you

off my mind.

Joe?

I saw your girlfriend

I think she thinks

I want you back

God, you surely

take your time

I don't wanna be

in your fantasy

I wish you'd move

to China or the moon

Positive

Capital "p"

Positive,

you don't belong to me

I'm kinda scattered

like the pieces of a puzzle

But our pieces

never seem to fit

And I talk to the mirror

looking deep into my eyes

But I only see this

I don't want to be

in your diary

I didn't mean it

when I wished you away

Now I'm positive

Capital "p"

So, Joe, how's

that girlfriend of yours?

The one you have all those, uh,

passive-aggressive, voyeuristic fantasies about?

With all due respect, Simon, I'd really

rather not hear your opinion about it.

Well, Joe, you should

let him help you.

He gets paid a lot of money

to help people.

That's all right.

Wasn't there something important that

you needed to discuss with your father?

Joe, come on.

What is it, Lucy?

Oh...

Joe and I had been discussing,

very, very superficially,

really, just

this idea that we, we had

for opening a kids' school.

A school for kids.

Huh!

Well, that's

a fine idea, sweetheart.

And if you weren't going to Harvard in the

fall and then taking over the clinic,

I'd help you any way I could.

No, no, of course.

I didn't... I was...

Just explain to me how you're going

to Harvard and our school is history.

What do you suggest that I do, Joe?

It's all arranged.

Well, it can all

easily be unarranged.

Don't you mean rearranged?

What?

"Unarranged" isn't a word.

Rearranged. It can all

easily be rearranged.

Rearranged.

You don't just rearrange a relationship, Joe.

It doesn't work like that.

Whatever. I have a date.

So do I.

Great. Five days to go,

and we both have dates.

Then again, your credibility

is pretty shot, Lucy.

Halfway down, you'll want

to turn around and go back.

That's not true. I've

never been more resolved.

Whatever.

You lied to me.

F***.

It's always like Mickey

Rourke or somebody that

can't make it to the bed, and they have

to do it when they come in the door

standing up against

some pillar or something.

Put you up here

like a contortionist

and do plies and releves

and keep it in there

and get it in there

and be effective,

all at the same time.

I will be perfectly happy

to blow your mind,

but can we just lie down?

In a minute.

Have you had an aids test?

Negative.

And you?

15 for 15.

You've had 15 aids tests?

Every 4 months

for the last 5 years.

Do you shoot drugs?

No.

Do you f*** guys?

No.

Do you sodomize

junkie prostitutes?

Without a condom?

Yeah.

No.

When was the last time

you had sex?

Five years ago.

Then why all the aids tests?

I don't want to talk about it.

Joe!

What?

I need to know.

I'm a little embarrassed about it.

Can we just not talk about it?

Why all the aids tests?

What is it?

I masturbated.

But you can't even

get it from kissing,

let alone jerking off.

I don't know.

What about phone sex?

I'll have another test

on Thursday.

I think we're safe now.

I cannot maneuver like this.

I need to be able

to deal with you properly.

We have to lie down now.

Okay, but it has to be

in the kitchen.

I don't care where it is.

I'll throw your sorry ass on the floor

right here and f*** your brains out.

But you can't see the floor

from your apartment.

I know. God, I always hated that

I couldn't see your ankles.

Wait. What did you just say?

You can't see the floor

here from your apartment.

You know that

I've been watching you?

All this time, all these years,

you know that

I've been watching you?

Of course. You knew that, Joe.

Um...

No, really, uh,

I didn't.

I was watching you watching me.

I liked it.

What's the problem?

It wasn't like that.

I've been smitten.

I mean, uh...

I don't want you to be

some... some fantasy, I...

I want you to be my girlfriend.

I want you to be a reality.

Come on, Joe.

You never wanted me

to be your reality.

And if you do,

you'd better have a look at

who's standing in front of you.

We're not reality material.

I didn't know that.

Joe, what's a cute,

smart, sexy,

good-looking guy...

Why haven't you slept with a

girl for the last 5 years?

I've been savin' myself.

For who?

I guess I don't know.

See you.

Come on.

Joe.

Come on.

Looking through

the wrong lens

With shadows in my eyes

You were hiding in the open

Standing by my side

All we needed

was a river to follow

And dance in

Lay down, Athena

In your sea of wine.

Lucy? Lucy!

Lay down, Athena

Lay down, lay down

Lay down

Crimson river we follow

We collide, we collide

We'll be safe in tomorrow

Hey.

What are you doing?

Nothing.

How is everything?

It's fine. It's great.

Yeah? Great.

You?

I'm having fun.

I'm really havin' a great time.

Obviously.

What's wrong with you?

What are you wearin'?

What do you mean?

What's that?

You slapped some paint on it?

It's very creative. How'd

it go over with old Bwicky?

I don't want to talk about it.

You don't want

to talk about it?

I don't like your attitude.

Come on, Lucy.

What happened on your date?

I mean, come on. Tell me. Talk.

We finger-painted, all right?

He made me dinner,

we finger-painted,

and we talked all night.

I thought you'd be happy

that I had a nice time,

I thought you'd be happy that we could

call off this stupid death pact thing

and not kill ourselves.

Why would we call off

the death pact?

Because you and Jane

and, and me and Bwick.

I like him.

You like him well enough

to call off the death pact?

Yeah.

No, no, excuse me. I, uh, I didn't

realize he was so special, Lucy.

I don't understand

what this is all about.

Wait a minute, are you and

Jane not getting along?

Is, is that what this is?

What?

What?

A f***in' painter.

You're in love

with a f***ing painter.

Bwick Elias.

I mean, it's just

too f***in' perfect.

I just don't believe it

that, that...

I mean, that...

Stupid,

pseudo-intellectual,

you know, like,

counting-crows-headed, "love

equals life equals death,"

you know, pop bullshit.

F***in'... F***!

If you think that

that f***ing guy

is coming into my house...

Excuse me.

Excuse me. Your house?

Oh. Excuse me.

Your house. Sorry.

I'm out of here. Whatever.

Hello, darling.

Hi. Hi.

How are you?

I'm gonna open a grade

school for children.

I'm not gonna go to Harvard.

Maybe, maybe you'll help me,

and maybe you won't,

but this is really...

This is what I want to do,

so I hope that

you'll support me.

Why do you always do that?

Do what?

You always chuckle whenever I tell you

something that's important to me.

Oh, honey.

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