Will and Sal and Chloe and Tom

March 15, 2011

It’s Spring Break and school is out for the week. William Friedman and Sal Levy are drinking scotch and hanging out in Will’s rooms at New Ridgemont High.

Sal: I like it when the building’s empty like this. It’s so quiet and peaceful.

Will: [Wistfully] It feels lonely without the kids.

Sal: They’ll be back soon enough.

Will: [Takes a long drag off of his cigarette and gazes out the window] I’ll miss the hell out of them over the summer. 

Sal: With how hectic the year’s been, we just didn’t have it together enough to get summer school up and running. We’ll do it next year.

Will: I know.

Sal: Most of the faculty will be around, though. I’ve talked with Bobbie, Pat, Jules, and a few others.

Will: [Absentmindedly] Yeah.

Sal: [Pours himself another scotch from the bottle on Will’s desk] You should hang out with us, Will. You haven’t spent any time with the other teachers outside of school since the pool party. We have a weekly poker night, and it’s a lot of fun.

Will: I’m just so busy. I don’t have much left in me by the end of the week.

Sal: That’s because you’re always doing stuff with the kids. You should socialize with people your own age.

Will: [Wearily] I sense a speech coming.

Sal: No speech. Just your friend expressing concern, that’s all. You’ve been more isolated this semester.

Will: [Flicks his cigarette butt out the window and crosses the room to the desk. Pours himself another scotch.] I feel burdened, Sal; not just by the expansion, but by the political opposition. It’s gotten so vicious.

Sal: [Gently] Well, I don’t want to burden you further, but I do want to talk to you about something, and now is as good a time as any.

Will: I have a feeling I’m gonna’ need another smoke for this. [Lights another cigarette and goes back to the chair by the window]

Sal: It’s about Chloe.

Will: What about her?

Sal: I don’t know how to put this.

Will: Put what? 

Sal: The two of you are together in public a lot.

Will: Well, she is the Student Body President. I am the Principal. We get invited to a lot of things: by the Mayor, the Governor, news programs…

Sal: [Steels himself] The optics are bad, Will.

Will: Optics? You’ve lost me. 

Sal: Of you and her.

Will: [Angrily] Stop dancing around, Sal. We’ve known each other for too long. If you have an accusation, make it.

Sal: [Shaking his head] You poor, silly fool. I’m not accusing you of anything. 

Will: What are you getting at, then? I’m lost.

Sal: Tom and I have been talking about this for a while, but Stage Night really sealed it. You and Chloe look like you’re together, if you get my meaning. Everyone in the school knows you aren’t, because they know you two well enough by now to understand that you’re both just incredibly warm and gregarious, not to mention tight as hell. But the people out there don’t know that, Will. [Sal gestures towards the window] And our enemies don’t know it either. And even if they do, it doesn’t matter. They’ll just fucking lie about it and use it to hurt us.

Will: [Struggling to keep up] Wait, you and Tom have been “talking for a while” about Chloe and me?

Sal: We’ve been concerned for some time but weren’t sure whether it was worth getting worked up about. As you know, Tom and I tend to be overly cautious. We wouldn’t have even said anything if the opposition hadn’t come on so strong and shown such venomous colors. But after Stage Night, when the two of you came off like a Royal couple, we thought it was urgent that we speak with both of you.

Will: We? Tom hasn’t said anything to me.

Sal: We agreed that I would talk to you, and he would talk to Chloe.

Will: [Rubs his face with both hands] What are you suggesting, Sal? That we hide our working relationship? Our friendship? Stop visiting schools? Turn down media invitations? Cease all the promotional stuff we’re doing?

Sal: Yes.

Will: [Exasperated] It’s not just that you’re saying we should capitulate to the worst people in the country; exactly the people whom this whole project is designed to oppose. What you want us to do is impossible. Like it or not, Chloe and I are the proverbial “tip of the spear” on this thing, and there’s no going back. We take our chances and see it through to the end. We’ll meet their worst with our best. Chloe and I discussed this at length with the Governor and Congresswoman Best at a private dinner in February.

Sal: [Heatedly] Don’t you understand? You’re giving them ammunition. This thing won’t make it to next year if they really come after us. You should be strategic, especially given the magnitude of what’s going on across the country. This may be our only shot, before the reactionaries really put the boot in, and we swore that we wouldn’t let that happen. Goddamit, Will, we saw it!

Will: Didn’t you just say they would lie, Sal? That it wouldn’t matter what the truth was?

Sal: Yes.

Will: So what good will it do if Chloe and I hide? Putsis and her gang can still make up whatever stories they want about us. But, if we kneecap ourselves — if Chloe and I pull back just when this thing is starting to take off — it’ll be stillborn. Our opponents won’t need to do anything.

Sal: [Points at him, visibly frustrated] I tried to warn you, Will. That’s all I can do. Whether or not you listen is up to you, and God help us all if you don’t.

The two sit, drinking in silence.

March 16, 2011, 7:30pm

Chloe Gold and Tom Rosen have just finished dinner at Chasen’s and are in Tom’s 1980 Mercedes 450SL convertible, heading towards Zuma beach. It is warm and there is a gentle breeze.

Chloe: How long have we been going to Chasen’s?

Tom: For as long as I can remember. 

Chloe: My earliest memory is that Christmas our families did there, when our moms didn’t want to cook.

Tom: If I recall, we pulled down Chasen’s Christmas tree. But since we were, like, three years old, everyone just rolled with it.

Chloe: [Leans back into the seat, closes her eyes, and stretches her arms over her head, her hair streaming behind her in the wind] Mmm, this is heavenly.

Tom glances over at her but doesn’t say anything.

Chloe: [Opens her eyes and turns to him] So, what’s this all about, Tom?

Tom: What do you mean?

Chloe: [Gestures around her] All of this. The dinner. A nighttime drive to the beach. You’re dating Jaime, so I know it isn’t some kind of elaborate come-on, and you never ask me to hang out otherwise. So what’s up?

Tom: [Sighs] I have to remind myself not to underestimate you.

Chloe: Indeed.

Tom: Okay, I’ll tell you. But you aren’t going to like it.

Chloe: I didn’t think I would. You don’t do all of this if you want to talk about the weather.

Tom: [Takes a deep breath] It’s about you and Friedman.

Chloe: What about us?

Tom: The way you two act in public. It’s not good.

Chloe: [Bristling] And how do we “act in public,” Tom?

Tom: You know what I’m talking about.

Chloe: I don’t, actually. You see, not everyone is as jaded as you are.

Tom: So, you’re going to make me do this.

Chloe: I’m not “making” you do anything. This little exercise is one-hundred-percent your choice. 

The two arrive at Zuma Beach, and Tom parks the car in the drive that snakes down between the hills and the sand. They are the only ones there.

Tom: [Turns to Chloe]: Okay, here it is. You guys look like two people in an intimate relationship.

Chloe: [Rolls her eyes] Not you too. I thought this was just some imbecile rumor being passed around by excitable freshmen.

Tom: I’m not talking about any rumors in school. At this point, no one at NRH thinks there’s anything between you and him. 

Chloe: Good, because there isn’t. [Disgusted] For god’s sake.

Tom: I’m talking about how it looks to people outside of the school. And to our enemies in particular. I was prepared to let it go until Stage Night. After that, Sal and I agreed that we needed to do something.

Chloe: [Angrily] You and Sal “agreed”? You’ve been conferring about Will and me behind our backs?!

Tom: He and I have been talking on and off since the Celebration Ball last year, and we’ve become increasingly worried about the — how do I put it? — “optics” of your relationship.

Chloe: [Through clenched teeth] I thought we’d already been through all this, when you hinted at the same thing during the last Executive Council meeting. It was about as subtle as a hippo in a tutu. 

Tom: We never went through any of it. You shut me down immediately.

Chloe: So, now you’re coming for seconds?

Tom: Do you remember what you said when you asked me to be your veep?

Chloe: Refresh my memory.

Tom: When I asked why, you said this about you and Friedman: “We both love New Ridgemont High so much that we might not see trouble coming if it ever does.”

Chloe: [Looks down] I remember.

Tom: I think this is one of those times, and it’s the only reason we’re having this conversation. I am well aware of how much this hurts you, and that’s the last thing in the world I want to do. 

Chloe: [Looks up at him, her eyes glassy with tears] I know you aren’t being deliberately cruel, Tom. I’m sorry I suggested it. But what are you saying? I mean, what would assuage your fears?

Tom: Given how depraved our adversaries are, I don’t know if anything will soothe me at this point. But, I think you and Friedman need to stop making public appearances. And… [hesitates] not be seen together so much in school, so the “excitable freshmen” will move on to some less damaging subject.

Chloe: [Regaining her composure] I don’t think we can do that, Tom. And I’m not even sure it’s a smart move.

Tom remains silent.

Chloe: For one thing, the success of this effort is dependent on us at this point. Will and I have become the public face of school reform in the US and of the opposition to this “war on teens” more generally.

Tom: And?

Chloe: And for another, Putsis and company have no compunction about lying and dissembling. They can make up stories about Will and me or about anything else, regardless of what we do.

Tom: But why make it easier for them? Why hand them a damaging narrative on a silver platter?

Chloe: You can’t defeat evil people by constantly checking yourself. You have to stay straight and true and see it through.

Tom bursts out laughing.

Chloe: That’s a strange reaction, even for you. Did I say something funny?

Tom: Not at all. I just can’t believe this conversation. You and Friedman must share a soul or something.

Chloe: [Visibly confused] Huh?

Tom: Sal called me this morning and told me he spoke to Will last night. Their conversation went the same way, almost to a word.

Chloe: I see.

Tom: Though their exchange was a lot more heated. Sal read Will the riot act. He got really pissed off.

Chloe: But you aren’t.

Tom: Sal is much more certain in his judgment than I am in mine.

Chloe: Why?

Tom: Because what you’re saying is reasonable, and because I’m guessing. I come down on the side I do, because I’m more risk averse than you are.

Chloe: [Rests her head on Tom’s shoulder] I don’t want you to think I’m reckless; that I haven’t thought this through.

Tom: I don’t.

Chloe: Will and I actually came here in December and had a lengthy talk. At the end, he… [pauses] told me something. It didn’t change my views on this, but it did cement them.

Tom: What was it?

Chloe: I don’t want to betray his confidence. Suffice it to say that it persuaded me that this is the only shot we have and that if we fail, things will go so far south they’ll be beyond saving. Like, dystopian-fiction level stuff.

Tom: I see.

Chloe: So, I’m afraid it’s full-speed ahead, guns blazing. We have very little time.

Tom: I understand. And I’ll have your back to the end.

Chloe: [Kisses him on the cheek] I know you will, Tom, and I love you for it. We started this together, and we’ll finish it together.

The two sit quietly together watching the waves roll in.