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Description
FRANCESCA sits dejected on the floor of her dingy apartment. Paper is everywhere: on the chairs, the bed, the table, coming out the cabinets and poking out through cupboards. There is a deep silence in which she hardly moves or makes a noise except for a broken choking sigh every once in awhile. After a few beats she drags her limbs into motion and she reaches for her ragged backpack and digs for her cell phone. She dials.
GLEN's Voicemail: Hello?
FRANKIE: Glen? Hey, I...
GLEN's Voicemail: Gotcha! Haha, it's not really Glen, just his voicemail. Sing me a message and if I like you, I'll call you back. *tone*
FRANKIE: (under her breath) Dammit. Glen, you have to change that stupid voicemail, it's the most idiotic idea you've ever had. Ok. Um...call me back when you get this.
She hangs up dejectedly. Suddenly she dashes the cell phone across the room at her wall, sending flurries of paper flying up into the air. She turns and gives a frustrated groan and cusses again. Turning back again in a fit of indecision she fumbles for the phone she just chucked at the wall.
FRANKIE Shit shit shit...oh everything is just shit.
She finds it and dials again. We here Glen's voicemail once more. There is a beat and then...
FRANKIE Glen. I don't think I can wait for your class to get out. I'm sorry, I can't wait for you to call me back. Um. I just don't know what's wrong with me and I need help. I don't know why I didn't take you way back when. Because now you're really really far away and my arms are hungry. And.
I love you. (She takes a shaky breath)
Sometimes I convince my head that I'm not really, that I'm just lonely and looking for someone in my group of friends to (a pause) love. And then you go and do something really sweet and deep. You go and call me when I'm sitting all alone inmy car reading a Jane Austen novel and you send me letters. Twice! Even if they come back to your mailbox because you mess up the address.
You tell me I'm strong and that I'm beautiful when I know I'm not. And you care...And here I am trying to convice the whole world I'm not in love with you, Glen. It's awful.
When I was 17 I was an ass. I could have had you. I could have been with you before I went and messed myself up. (she starts to tear up and cry) I wish I loved you then. I wish I didn't make stupid mistakes with men that were lesser than you. I'm sorry. (whispers) I'm sorry. (strong again with conviction, she speaks louder and starts to pace.) I'm sorry I laughed at you whenever you tried to be sincere. I shouldn't have. I think I'm less of a woman now than I was then, and you are more of a man than ever. So tell me you forgive me, every part of me. And tell me it's ok. It's not too late. God knows I don't deserve it. God in heaven knows I dont' deserve it. But I've been praying so much about you he must know that even if I don't deserve it, I still need it to be ok.
There is a long pause. Frankie stands almost hypnotised by her own frenzied speech. She slowly comes back to reality and stares at the phone she's been jabbering to like a mad woman. She slowly puts it back up to her ear and clears her throat.
FRANKIE:I uh...I'm. Just call me back? I guess...
There is a click as a phone on the other end is picked up.
GLEN: Frankie?
FRANKIEhorrified: Oh God. Oh dear Jesus.
GLEN: Yeah.
FRANKIE: You heard everything, didn't you? My life hates me. It. Hates me.
GLEN I heard everything. And maybe your life does hate you. But I think that's ok.
(dismayed and at the end of her rope.)FRANKIE:Why?
GLENBecause I love you, Francesca.

Description
FRANCESCA sits dejected on the floor of her dingy apartment. Paper is everywhere: on the chairs, the bed, the table, coming out the cabinets and poking out through cupboards. There is a deep silence in which she hardly moves or makes a noise except for a broken choking sigh every once in awhile. After a few beats she drags her limbs into motion and she reaches for her ragged backpack and digs for her cell phone. She dials.
GLEN's Voicemail: Hello?
FRANKIE: Glen? Hey, I...
GLEN's Voicemail: Gotcha! Haha, it's not really Glen, just his voicemail. Sing me a message and if I like you, I'll call you back. *tone*
FRANKIE: (under her breath) Dammit. Glen, you have to change that stupid voicemail, it's the most idiotic idea you've ever had. Ok. Um...call me back when you get this.
She hangs up dejectedly. Suddenly she dashes the cell phone across the room at her wall, sending flurries of paper flying up into the air. She turns and gives a frustrated groan and cusses again. Turning back again in a fit of indecision she fumbles for the phone she just chucked at the wall.
FRANKIE Shit shit shit...oh everything is just shit.
She finds it and dials again. We here Glen's voicemail once more. There is a beat and then...
FRANKIE Glen. I don't think I can wait for your class to get out. I'm sorry, I can't wait for you to call me back. Um. I just don't know what's wrong with me and I need help. I don't know why I didn't take you way back when. Because now you're really really far away and my arms are hungry. And.
I love you. (She takes a shaky breath)
Sometimes I convince my head that I'm not really, that I'm just lonely and looking for someone in my group of friends to (a pause) love. And then you go and do something really sweet and deep. You go and call me when I'm sitting all alone inmy car reading a Jane Austen novel and you send me letters. Twice! Even if they come back to your mailbox because you mess up the address.
You tell me I'm strong and that I'm beautiful when I know I'm not. And you care...And here I am trying to convice the whole world I'm not in love with you, Glen. It's awful.
When I was 17 I was an ass. I could have had you. I could have been with you before I went and messed myself up. (she starts to tear up and cry) I wish I loved you then. I wish I didn't make stupid mistakes with men that were lesser than you. I'm sorry. (whispers) I'm sorry. (strong again with conviction, she speaks louder and starts to pace.) I'm sorry I laughed at you whenever you tried to be sincere. I shouldn't have. I think I'm less of a woman now than I was then, and you are more of a man than ever. So tell me you forgive me, every part of me. And tell me it's ok. It's not too late. God knows I don't deserve it. God in heaven knows I dont' deserve it. But I've been praying so much about you he must know that even if I don't deserve it, I still need it to be ok.
There is a long pause. Frankie stands almost hypnotised by her own frenzied speech. She slowly comes back to reality and stares at the phone she's been jabbering to like a mad woman. She slowly puts it back up to her ear and clears her throat.
FRANKIE:I uh...I'm. Just call me back? I guess...
There is a click as a phone on the other end is picked up.
GLEN: Frankie?
FRANKIEhorrified: Oh God. Oh dear Jesus.
GLEN: Yeah.
FRANKIE: You heard everything, didn't you? My life hates me. It. Hates me.
GLEN I heard everything. And maybe your life does hate you. But I think that's ok.
(dismayed and at the end of her rope.)FRANKIE:Why?
GLENBecause I love you, Francesca.