SETTING:
The back porch of the family house, later that evening. The stage is dark except for a warm string of party lights hanging from the porch ceiling. Downstage center is a wooden railing.
AT RISE:
The sound of MUFFLED PARTY MUSIC and faint chatter can be heard from behind the stage doors. The RAIN has picked up, creating a steady, heavy hum all around them.
PARIS bursts through the door onto the porch, letting out a massive sigh of relief. She leans against the porch railing, closing her eyes and breathing in the cool air.
A moment later, ADAM steps out, holding two glasses of lemonade. He closes the door behind him, cutting the party noise in half. He walks over and presses a cold glass against her cheek.
PARIS
(Jumping slightly, then laughing)
Oh my god, thank you. You are a lifesaver.
ADAM
(Handing her the glass)
I call it a tactical retreat. Your Aunt Clara was about to bring over Cousin Leo’s best friend, the guy who owns a turtle breeding business. I had to tell her you were highly allergic to reptiles just to get you out of there.
PARIS
(Taking a sip, leaning against the railing)
I am not allergic to reptiles!
ADAM
You are now. It’s part of our lore.
(He leans against the railing next to her, looking out into the dark, rainy yard. He smiles softly.)
You did great in there, by the way. When your uncle asked how long we’ve been dating, you didn't stutter once.
PARIS
Because you were holding my hand so tight I thought you were going to cut off my circulation!
ADAM
Hey, that was authentic couple solidarity.
PARIS
(Her smile fades a little, looking down at her glass)
It felt... really real for a second. When everybody was watching us laugh, and you had your arm around me... I forgot we were putting on a show.
ADAM
(He turns his head, his gaze fixing on her profile)
Did you?
PARIS
(Nervously spinning her glass)
Yeah. I mean, my family totally bought it. They think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Aunt Sylvia actually whispered that I shouldn't let you get away.
ADAM
(Quietly, his voice mixing with the sound of the rain)
Aunt Sylvia is a very smart woman.
PARIS
(Laughs nervously, trying to keep it light)
Don't let it go to your head, Adam. We still have forty-eight hours left of this. What if they ask us to slow dance at the dinner tomorrow? We haven't practiced that.
ADAM
(He sets his glass down on the railing. He steps closer to her.)
Then let's practice.
PARIS
(Her breath catches)
What? Here? There's no music.
ADAM
We have the rain.
(Adam extends his hand to her. The stage lights dim slightly, focusing a warm glow directly on them. PARIS hesitates, then slowly sets her glass down and places her hand in his. He steps in, his other hand finding the small of her back, pulling her close.)
PARIS
(Whispering, her eyes locked onto his chest)
Adam, we're supposed to be pretending for them. There's nobody out here watching us.
ADAM
(He gently rests his chin near her hair as they begin to sway, a slow, barely-there movement)
Just practicing, Paris. Practice makes perfect.
(They sway in silence for a long moment, completely wrapped up in each other. The heavy drumming of the rain surrounds them. PARIS rests her head against his shoulder, and ADAM closes his eyes, tightening his grip on her waist just a fraction more than a friend should.)