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turning to page one
Will and Skylar in her room, post coital. They are wrapped in a sheet. Will is absent-mindedly playing the memory game SIMON. The pattern grows increasingly complex. After a beat:
SKYLAR
Why do we always stay here?
WILL
'Cause it's nicer than my place.
SKYLAR
I've never seen your place.
WILL
Exactly.
SKYLAR
What about your friends? Or your
brothers? When do I get to meet them?
WILL
They don't come over here that much.
SKYLAR
I think I can make it to South Boston.
WILL
Aah, it's kind of a hike.
SKYLAR
Is it me you're hiding from them or
the other way around?
WILL
All right, all right. We'll go.
SKYLAR
When?
WILL
Sometime. I don't know. Next week.
SKYLAR
What if I said I wouldn't sleep with
you again until you let me meet your
friends?
WILL
I'd say...
(reaches for phone)
It's only four in the mornin', they're prob'ly up.
She laughs. Stops him.
SKYLAR
You men are shameful. If you're not
thinking of your weiner then you're
acting on its behalf.
WILL
Then on behalf of my weiner, I'd like
to ask for an advance.
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