The Screenplay

The chill in the air would have coaxed anyone else to close the window. The sun beginning to rise would have made anyone else realize they had not gone to sleep that night. The cigarette ash floating carelessly to the floor would have made anyone else afraid their home would be set on fire. But not Eilla, not then. She took another drag from her emergency cigarettes which were stale and disgusting, since she had not even looked at them for at least a year. Her chain smoking college years behind her, she wondered how she could have quit as she sucked in the harsh smoke and thought about how upset Ben would be if he saw her like this.

She sat by her bedroom window on her nightstand, leaning against her wall, ignoring the dull pain in her skull from the pressure. Burnt matches and an empty lighter sat in a cereal bowl Eilla intended on using as an ashtray, although her aim was terrible, it was a miracle she thought of it. Her mind felt like it was tied in knots, which was all it could do to distract her from her aching heart. She was not going to tell Ben, she had concluded, although she reserved the right to change her mind if Theo threatened her again.

Why did she need to stay here? Connecticut could be fine. Maybe. She'd never been there before, never thought about it, really. The store was great, but was it worth losing Ben over? Was Eazy worth losing Ben? Was the fact that she was having such a hard time deciding a sign she wasn't supposed to be dealing with any of it?

Her cigarette pack was empty by the time the sun had emerged, and she stared straight into it, halfway hoping it would blind her so Ben would be sympathetic. She knew he was going to find out, she couldn't keep it from him forever. Theo wouldn't let her.

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Ben paced madly in front of the store, arms crossed harshly across his chest, anxious for Eilla to arrive to open. He needed to talk to her. It would be any minute now, he told himself, his strides shortening and his eyes darting to every street end he could see. He checked his watch compulsively in anticipation. Suddenly, a sharp rapping on the glass startled him and he turned toward the door to see Theo turning the key to let him in.

"Where's Eilla?" Ben said loudly before Theo had cracked the door even an inch. He tried to sound casual but failed gloriously.

"Come in, man," Theo said. He could barely look Ben in the eyes.

"Did you come in the back door? I thought Eilla always just came in the front door," Ben's speech was hurried. Theo felt his stomach churning. He knew he was obligated to let Eilla handle this on her own. She was his best friend and had secrets about Theo that Casey would shudder to think of. But none were like this. Theo thought of Casey sleeping with someone else, even in the early stage that their relationship was in. Would he be crushed to have the news broken by a friend of hers? Would he want to hear from her? He must have been rolling the questions around in his brain too long becasue he forgot to answer Ben. "When will Eilla get here?" Ben asked again.

"I don't know, man." Theo lied. She was supposed to be there a half hour ago. Eilla was passed out on her bed next to a bowl of cigarette butts and a wide open window was spilling orange sunlight around her feet, making them comfortable and warm. "Is she still not answering your phone calls?"

"No, I think her phone is dead, it keeps going straight to voicemail. Is she ok? I mean, did you go over there again last night to check on her?" Ben nervously picked up a guitar pick from a basket on the counter and flicked his palm rapidly.

"Yeah, she's... I don't know," Theo could not think of an appropriate response.

"Well, did you tell her to call me? Did she not call on purpose?" Ben flicked the guitar pick so hard it flew from her hands onto the ground. He ignored it and grabbed another in one swoop. "Do you think I should just go talk to her? I mean, I should just talk to her. I'm going to go talk to her." Ben said, more to himself than Theo. Turning on his heal, he was out the door before Theo could decide to stop him or not.

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Ben turned his key to Eilla's apartment slowly, nervous. If Eilla hated him forever, he didn't blame her. He should have knocked, but he couldn't bare to be turned away without even seeing her. He crept slowly, looking around the living room to find nothing but a mess. The flowers he had given her were on the sofa, a trail of dingy water spots trailed across the coffee table and carpet. A roll of paper towels was stretched across the room to the kitchen where they were in a giant pile on the floor. The room smelled like cigarette smoke, and Ben cringed. Eilla had promised to quit smoking for him. He walked slowly to the bedroom, realizing she was probably still sleeping. He opened the door to her bedroom, and to his left there she was. The top sheets and comforter to her bed were strewn across the floor, and she laid uncovered on her stomach in shorts and a sweatshirt. the room was freezing, he noticed, and she was facing away from him so all he saw was a mound of unkempt curls. He shuddered at the bowl full of a pack of cigarette butts.

She seemed to be out cold, and if she had a night like his, Ben didn't blame her. He had stayed up all night worrying about every option they had to be together and trying to compromise. He knew in his heart she was worth it. He looked at her legs, covered in sunlight from the knee down, her toes hanging off the end of the bed, her arms stretched high slopily, certainly from throwing herself into bed still upset. Ben reached down carefully and moved the bowl to her dresser to his right, then took a deep breath, half hoping that would wake her and he didn't have to stand and stare any more.

He slowly slid down and sat on the bed, placing a hand like he had so many times into her billowing hair. He felt a shudder beneath him as he realized he had frightened her. Eilla quickly sat up and turned. Her eyes locked instantly with Ben's, mortified at the state he had found her. He was looking at her with those green eyes she could not resist, and for the first time, she understood she did not truly deserve to look into them. He reached out without saying a thing, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and pausing. He wanted to pull her in and kiss her, even if she smelled like an ashtray. She was still so much in shock that he was there, with compassion, he wasn't angry, he felt like he had wronged her. Guilt seized everything inside of Eilla as she looked at this man, the man she knew loved her unconditionally, knowing she had given him a condition to not love her. He stared into the eyes that today seemed steely gray, almost lifeless, and terrified. He wondered what she could be thinking.

"Eilla, can we talk?" Ben finally said. His hand slid from behind her neck down the length of her arm, resting on top of her had. It was trembling, he noticed, and he watched her closly. She was shaking all over. Thinking she must just be freezing, he leaned over to pick up the comforter lying on the floor. He lifted it quickly, tossing it around her. As he did, Eilla gasped, sat up straight, and her hand sprung to cover her gaping open mouth.

As Ben had pulled the blanket from the ground, out fell a belt. An unfarmiliar belt, but a completely recognizable one. One with a large shining buckle, polished to a mirror shine, baring the unmistakable letters; "E-Z".

Eilla's eyes darted from the belt to Ben. She couldn't stop herself after a moment, seeing the tears coming up in his eyes, and she leaned forward and grabbed it from him, flining it into the screen of the open window. "Ben, lets talk," She said, trying to remain under control. Ben was still looking at his hands as if the belt had not flew across the room.

"I really don't have anything to say," Ben said with a stiff sniffle, clearing any signs that he may have become emotional. "I... I just... Tell me what that was about." He turned to face her, intent on hearing the entire story.