A Few Hitches

Thursday

## Thursday
[Tony's. Harry's writing in a notebook and tapping on a calculator. Louis walks in, gulps, takes a second to compose himself, and walks towards Harry.]

 

LOUIS: "Hi." (Scratches the book of his head, awkward silence.) "I'm sorry."

HARRY: (Punching buttons on his calculator.) "Are you?"

LOUIS: "Yes. Very. Yesterday was... I don't know what that was. I'm not like that."

HARRY: "Sure."

LOUIS: "I'm not, I swear. I just... lashed out at you, and I don't—I felt," (Struggling.) "vulnerable? Like, I was being dissected or analyzed or some shit, and I couldn't do anything about it."

HARRY: (Monotone.) "I don't know man, but if you're the kind of guy that'd judge people based on what they do for a living, you're pretty fucking pathetic."

LOUIS: (Agitated.) "I don't!"

HARRY: (Looks up.) "You clearly do!" (Sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, closes his eyes, calmer.) "Look, it's whatever, I don't care. My parents did abandon me, I am a mechanic, ergo your dick-headed presence here. And I have math."

LOUIS: "But are we good?"

HARRY: "What do you mean 'good'?"

LOUIS: "Like, do you forgive me?"

HARRY: "If that'll get you to stop talking to me till you die, yeah."

LOUIS: (Troubled.) "But," (Harry goes back to writing in his notebook. Louis opens his mouth to speak, then closes it.)

 

[Louis leaves. Harry continues solving equations. Louis returns half an hour later.]

LOUIS: (Holding two Starbucks cups and a paper bag.) "Do you drink coffee?" (Harry doesn't look up.) "Okay, guess not." (Sets his own cup on the desk, walks back to Harry.) "I got you a muffin... I don't know if you like muffins; sometimes people hate muffins, especially the blueberry one." (Almost nonchalant.) "Sometimes people taste the blueberry muffin and think, fuck, this is disgusting, this thing is invading my damn mouth. But then they keep chewing and the crappy aftertaste becomes kind of endearing... then it's pretty good."

HARRY: (Quirks his head up briefly.) "I like math."

LOUIS: "Uh," (Eyebrows knotted.) "That wasn't on the menu?"

HARRY: (Staring at his page.) "I like math 'cause it's numbers, it's equations, mechanics, calculus—it's logical. You can break it down or build it up, and you'd understand it from start to finish." (Glances up at Louis.) "You are not math."

LOUIS: (Eyebrows raised. Recovers, shrugs it off.) "Because I'm a cookie, obviously." (No response, unsure of what to do, holds up the bag.) "So will you take the muffin and forgive me for real?"

HARRY: "You," (huffs an exhale, shakes his head slightly.) "You can't just buy me a muffin and," (Pauses, bites his lip.) "Never mind."

LOUIS: (Shrugs.) "I guess it's just a thing I do. Whenever I think I hurt someone, I just... give them something and they get over it. I hate you, a wrist-watch. You're dumb, a bag. I don't want to have sex, sex. It works; it's a pretty effective system."

HARRY: "I'm not wired like that."

LOUIS: "Everyone's wired like that."

HARRY: "I'm not."

LOUIS: (After a pause.) "So... not even a little bit Starbucks? It's really good." (Waving the cup around.) "Come on, just look at it. It's got caramel. Who the hell says no to caramel?" (Sipping the coffee.) "Mmm. So good. No, that wasn't the sound of me having an org*sm; I was just having my first sip of coffee." (Harry folds his arms and observes Louis.) "You know you want to, Hammy." (Crosses his eyes as he drinks the coffee and moans. Harry snickers slightly.) "A laugh! My god, a laugh! Someone tell the president cause the oceans are 'bout to boil and Hell freeze. We're all gonna fucking die."

HARRY: (Conflicted facial expression, covering his mouth, eyes closing.) "I don't want to laugh but I keep doing it anyway."

LOUIS: "You see, when one is amidst my dick-headed presence, one tends to like the crappy aftertaste. And then one laughs at the crappy aftertaste's hilarious jokes." (Smile turns slightly somber.) "I'm sorry, okay? I'm a complete idiot, don't take it personally."

HARRY: "It's hard not to."

LOUIS: "I know. I know that. But it won't happen again. I promise you that, and I don't break promises."

HARRY: (Scoffs, arms still folded.) "Wow, clichéd much?"

LOUIS: "Yeah, I know, but I really don't break my promises. I promise."