One Percent More Humid Page #2

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I'll be right back.

Okay, just a little bit.

Okay.

So, why are you home for the summer

instead of doing one of those

feed-the-homeless internships?

I don't wanna talk.

What's wrong? Are you okay?

Sorry, it's a loud door.

I'm here this summer because I

was in a car accident in March.

I'm here to be with my friend,

Catherine. She was the one driving.

Our best friend Mae, she was

killed in the crash.

She was in the passenger seat.

I don't know how to live like this.

I don't know...

I can't get my head around it,

and I can't accept it.

It just makes no sense.

Mmm.

It doesn't.

I'm here because I

thought I could tell you.

You can.

Hey!

- Can I just get some cheese?

- What?

You want bread with that?

Yeah, only if I can get

it in between the cheese.

I'd like to invert the typical

roles of sandwich ingredients,

thereby casting a

spotlight on the stagnancy

which has come to characterize

the American lunch.

Yeah, we have that. It's called the Tool.

Sweet. Awesome.

Hey, so guess what?

This evening, I'm gonna

have a special screening

of Silent Night, Deadly Night.

Oh.

Hey, Santa's a psychosexual killer.

- Tuna on white.

- Huh?

Thank you.

That guy your boyfriend?

No, he's my roommate.

- Hi.

- Hey.

Uh, I'd like a roast beef on

white with tomato and mayo.

Hi, Iris.

Hi, Gerald.

Here you go, lover.

Enjoy.

I can't come up.

What? Why? No, no, no.

I told you about that memoir

I bought, from the Navajo girl?

Remember, the pageant on the reservation?

Yeah, I was literally one hour

away from the first pre-release,

and I find out she's

an Orange County Korean,

headed to Penn.

Wow.

Teenage girls are f***ing batshit.

Well, can't you just make it fiction?

That's so disgusting.

That's what I'm doing tonight,

rewriting all the press

releases, blah, blah, blah.

How's your writing going?

What, you want a word count?

I should go. I have a

long night ahead of me.

Bye.

Bye.

Don't.

I'll call you tomorrow morning.

Don't stay out too late.

And if their lawyer calls,

you do not talk to him, okay?

I mean it. Catherine, this is serious.

You know what? Maybe we shouldn't go.

What? No. Oh, my God, Dad, go.

It's... I won't talk to anyone.

I'll be with Mae.

Iris.

I'll be fine.

Jesus.

- Hi.

- Hi, Jack.

How are you?

Uh, good. Good, good. Good.

Have you seen Iris?

Uh, Iris? Yeah, she just left.

She went to have dinner

at her thesis advisor's.

Dinner? Oh.

Well, you know, she was

wearing a very small skirt,

and she took a really long shower.

Oh? Was it a suede skirt?

Uh-huh.

You know that's her "f*** me" skirt?

Interesting.

Yeah.

Um...

Is that your boyfriend?

Well, that's Che Guevara. And I'm not gay.

And if I were, it wouldn't

be with a man in a beret.

Nice.

Uh...

Sorry, uh, what are you doing now?

I don't know.

Um, it's nice seeing you.

See you.

Hang on!

- Hey.

- Hi.

- How you doing?

- Good.

- Come on in.

- How are you?

- I'm good.

- Yeah?

Sorry it's so hot in here.

I'm sweating like a pig.

Um, ice cream.

You're a gentleman.

I mean, I get it for free,

in the sense I just steal it from work.

I hope you believe as I do that, as

Americans, we're obliged to consume

mass amounts of unusable

carbohydrates that numb our brains

and make us better television

watchers, 'cause I'm making pasta.

Mmm.

Food of my people.

You look Irish.

I also look innocent.

What can I get you?

- Can I have a vodka soda?

- Sure.

And can I order something,

a drink for someone?

Absolutely.

The guy with the blue hat.

- Whatever he drinks.

- Okay.

Thanks.

- Yo, Billy.

- Yeah?

Just take it.

All right, look, you need to leave.

Can I just talk to you?

I don't even want to publish

another book, you know.

I mean, nobody needs some

white guy with poor vision

and an Ivy League degree

getting all the luck.

Some kid in a rundown mobile

home might not have a chance.

I can't let that happen.

So I'm just gonna stagnate.

I loved your books.

Yeah, thanks.

No, no, no, I'm okay.

So, you like the Polish poets?

- Is that what your work is like?

- Yes.

The intersection of poetic

lyricism and existential darkness?

Yes.

What are you doing?

Mmm, no.

Yeah, good idea. Good idea.

Good idea.

How old are you?

Forty.

I'll be right back.

- Okay.

- Okay?

Okay, just a sec.

A-ha!

Found you.

Hi.

Hi.

Hey.

Beauty.

Can I just say this? I don't...

I wish it were me instead of Mae. I...

I can't sleep without dreaming of her.

I don't deserve to be here. I wish I...

I wish I could've swung the car

around so it were me instead of her.

You know I wasn't drunk. I

wasn't high. It just happened.

It was just a bad turn.

Hey, you know, my parents...

My sister is gone.

- I know.

- All right?

There's no f***ing changing it for them.

You have your whole life to get over this.

- I swear to God I won't...

- Now get f*** away from me, Catherine.

Get the f*** away from me!

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Come on.

Hey.

Hello.

Hi.

- Iris.

- What?

I just like you.

I like you, too. Okay?

It feels good.

You have to be quiet.

Hey.

I have to tell you something, I...

I just...

I can't keep it from you.

You can tell me.

I mean, you've been MIA,

so I know something's up.

I'm seeing my thesis advisor.

Seeing him?

I slept with him. I'm sleeping with him.

He's married.

He's married?

I mean, I know it's wrong.

It's wrong and it's bad, and

it's all of those things but...

It doesn't seem it.

It's shocking because

it's just not you at all.

I know.

How was it?

It was unbelievable. I

mean, it is unbelievable.

It's amazing.

Maybe his wife's a b*tch.

I just want the best for you.

You know?

I know, inevitably, you're

going to get hurt here.

I'm already hurt.

It can't get worse.

I gotta shower.

I'm going over to his place later.

What's your plan?

I thought we were hanging out.

- I'm sorry.

- No, it's fine.

It's gonna be our summer?

You and Professor Feely McGrabby?

And me and me?

No. No.

- So, were you in the hospital?

- What?

After the accident. Sorry, that was abrupt.

Oh. Uh...

It's okay.

Uh, I had to have stitches, yeah.

And, um, Catherine...

They had her on suicide

watch for, like, a week.

She tried to slit her wrists.

She was just, like, clawing at herself.

So they had her sedated

through the funeral.

And she, uh, severed a tendon

in her calf in the accident.

So, how's she doing now?

I don't know.

She in therapy?

No, she says she doesn't need it.

How about you?

I've been feeling better lately.

Hi.

Oh, you're so hard.

You know, that's just

like a throwaway line,

but when you say it, I

know why it's a classic.

Oh, my God.

Oh. Oh!

Babe, wait! You're

gonna make me come. F***!

Jesus.

That's another classic.

- Shh, shh.

- I won't shh.

Are you like this with all the boys?

I was a virgin.

Yeah, I can tell.

I'm actually not like this at all.

- This way.

- Wait.

- What?

- Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop.

What? What is that?

Oh, please with the grabbing.

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