Play 4
Courtney’s apartment
Three Wednesdays later. Courtney and Ally sat crossed leg in the middle of Courtney’s rug. It had been a gift from her grandmother. A big fluffy thing, circular, with varying blues; the lighter shades greatly accented by the burnt wooden floor, while the darker shades blurred in. Depending on the point of view- a comic or tragic sky. “It's tragic!! I don’t know what he smells like!” exclaimed Court, her voice raising, panicked. “In books girls always miss the smell of their boyfriend and vice versa. And pshh, I’ve even observed it in real life; do you remember that girl Tory? She lived across the hall. Anyways, she told me that she used to use Jackson’s sweatshirt as her pillow cover, because that way she could fall asleep to his scent.” “AND,” Ally watched curiously, as dread somehow managed to enlarge, Courtney’s nearly bursting eyes, “whatifAlexassociatesascentwithme!?” She sounds a bit like a malfunctioning siren, Ally mused. “Because if some potion mixer-“ “Potion mixer?” Courtney glared, “Oh shut up! If asked-“ “by a potion mixer” She actually hissed then- “YES," Courtney sighed, “if asked by a potion mixer I wouldn’t know what scents make up an Alex.” “Court hold up. Maybe all these people you read about, as well as the Torys and Jacksons of life, smell real bad but don’t know it. Like they think they have these lovely scents, but really, it’s the obscene scent of smelliness.” “ALISON.” “Yea?” “This is why, I love you.”
