Ruby Sparks Page #7

So act like it.

I'm sorry I wasn't acting

like the platonic ideal of your girlfriend.

Jesus, you can be

such a f***ing prude.

I don't want you skinny-dipping

with men?

Because you don't want me

doing anything!

You have all these rules

and you don't tell me what they are...

...until, whoops,

I've broken one.

And then you get to be

disappointed with me?

Okay. Uh, do you wanna know my rules?

Don't f*** other men.

Don't let them think about f***ing you.

Now I'm responsible

for what people think?

Yes, you are responsible. When you act

a certain way, it leads people on.

When you take your clothes off at a party,

people think you're a slut.

So I'd really prefer if you didn't do that.

Is that clear enough for you?

F*** you!

I'm not your child!

You don't get to decide what I do.

Wanna bet?

What?

I'm pretty sure I could make you do

whatever I want.

What are you gonna do, Calvin?

Tie me up?

No.

I don't have to.

Calvin...

...I'm gonna call a cab.

Let's talk tomorrow, okay?

Calvin.

Fine. Go.

What was that?

You didn't feel that?

Aah!

What is that?

What the f*** is going on?

Calvin.

Aah! Oh, my God, something is happening.

Here. Read.

What is this?

My book.

The one I haven't been

working on.

Wanna see?

Is this some sort of joke?

No. It's pretty serious.

You're writing about me?

No, you can't write about me.

That's private.

I'm not writing about you.

I wrote you.

I made you up.

What?

I had a dream about a girl.

So I wrote it down.

I gave her a name.

Ruby.

I wrote all kinds of things about her

and then one day I woke up and she...

You were living in my house.

I can make you do anything...

...because you're not real.

You're sick.

Calvin?

Listen to me.

If this is how you think about people...

...then you are in for a long,

lonely, f***ed-up life.

Do you hear me? Calvin?

See. "Ruby speaks French."

I told you I could

make you do anything.

I write it.

You do it.

Skinnamarinky dinky dink dinky do

I love you

Skinnamarinky dinky dink

Dinky do

I love you

I love you in the morning

I love you.

I'll never leave you. I love you.

I'll never leave you.

I love you. I'll never leave you.

I love your mouth. I love your nose.

I love your butt. I love your eyes.

I love your belly. I love your ears.

I love your cock. I love your nose.

I love your mouth. I love you so much.

I'll love you forever

and ever and ever and ever.

You're a genius. You're a genius.

You're a genius.

You're a genius.

You're a genius. You're a genius.

You're a genius. You're a genius.

You're a genius.

Rub...

Calvin?

Calvin.

You okay?

She's gone.

It's okay, buddy.

Okay.

Nothing helps.

When was the last time you wrote, Cal?

I can't write.

Sure you can.

That's what you have over every other poor

schmuck out there with a broken heart.

You can write about it.

And who would wanna read that?

Lots of people.

Why not?

You got a pretty great story.

Everyone will think I'm crazy.

No.

They'll think it's fiction.

This is the true and impossible

story of my very great love.

In the hope that she will not read this

and reproach me...

...I have withheld many telling details.

Her name...

...the particulars of her birth

and upbringing...

...and any identifying scars

or birthmarks.

All the same,

I cannot help but write this for her.

To tell her:

"I'm sorry for every word

I wrote to change you.

I'm sorry for so many things.

I couldn't see you when you were here.

And now that you're gone,

I see you everywhere."

"One may read this and think it's magic...

...but falling in love is an act of magic.

So is writing.

It was once said of Catcher in the Rye:

'That rare miracle of fiction

has again come to pass.

A human being has been created

out of ink, paper and the imagination.'

I am no J.D. Salinger...

...but I have witnessed

a rare miracle.

Any writer can attest...

...in the luckiest, happiest state...

...the words are not coming from you,

but through you.

She came to me wholly herself.

I was just lucky enough to be there

to catch her."

Thank you.

Doesn't his imagination just,

uh, blow you away?

I mean, where does he come up

with these ideas?

Right?

- Yeah.

Genius.

I don't know.

I don't know.

How are you?

What's up?

It's beautiful, Calvin.

Thank you.

Most of my patients don't take

my assignments this seriously.

I know you hoped that, by writing this,

I would realize that it never happened.

That I imagined her.

But the thing is...

...I don't need to make sense of this.

I don't care

if there's no good explanation.

I need you

to believe me anyway.

Just take the leap.

At least imagine how it could be true.

For me.

I'll work on that.

Go potty.

Scotty. Scotty.

Scotty.

Oh, hi.

Sorry.

Hi.

Sorry, he's mine.

It's fine. He's so friendly.

What's his name?

Scotty.

Scotty. That's funny, that's...

That's the name of the dog

in this book.

Have you read it?

Did you like it?

Sorry. Did you say something?

Yeah, I just asked if you liked it.

Uh, what did you think?

My friend who lent it to me

thought it was kind of pretentious...

...but I really like it so far.

Have we met before?

I don't know.

You seem really familiar.

Maybe we knew each other

in another life.

Or maybe we just go

to the same coffee shop.

What do you do

besides go for walks with your dog?

Um...

I'm a writer.

What do you write?

So that's why you

look so familiar.

Maybe.

I was kidding about

my friend calling it pretentious.

It's okay.

Can we start over?

Yes.

May I sit down?

Oh, please.

Just don't tell me

how it ends, okay?

Promise.

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