Jake (looking at the piano):
Maybe it’s a precious antique.
Emma:
That they just happen to let students draw on and carve names into.
Jake (laughs):
I don’t know, it might be worse to have it circulating in the general public. Especially with some of those comments written next to your name. I think “Bitch” is the nicest of them.
Emma:
Those are warnings that I take pride in. Warnings you might have heeded.
Jake:
Not really my style, Emma. Regardless, so long as the piano is here, you know where it is.
Emma:
You have a point there, which puts you one up on the previous callers.
Jake:
Well, I am good, if I do say so myself. Then again, I have no frame of reference for this sort of thing. The phone call, I mean. What do I do next?
Emma (sighs):
Bra size or panty color.
Jake:
Huh?
Emma:
Ask me what my bra size is, or what color panties I’m wearing, idiot.
Jake:
Tempting, but that’s not actually why I called.
Emma:
I’d like to give you credit for not going there, but I think I’m more afraid of why you “really called.”
Jake:
Don’t be.
Emma:
So why did you call me then, Jake?
Jake:
I don’t know.
Emma (let down):
You would have been better off going the panty color route.
Jake:
Something came over me. I had to call. You, specifically.
Emma:
That’s because my name is first on the list. Poor Jane will be hearing from you next.
Jake:
No, I’m not gonna call any of them.
Emma:
Until you finish licking your wounds from this fiasco.
Jake:
Where is 609, anyway?
Emma:
Cape May. Dammit, why did I just tell you that? I meant Andover, Massachusetts.
Jake (visibly shudders at the name Andover):
Let’s stick with Cape May.
Emma:
What’s wrong with Andover?
Jake (cringes again):
Nothing. (Changing the subject quickly) They’re black lace, aren’t they?
Emma:
Fuck you, Jake. I’d say it was nice talking to you –
Jake:
I’m sorry. Wait.
Emma:
Why?
Jake:
Just hear me out.
Emma:
That would require you to have something to say. FYI, Bra size is off limits to you. Here, I’ll help you out: So, you are the school janitor, then?
Jake:
Brickman? No, I am…or was…the Spring music teacher.
Emma:
There’s a success story. Just the type of wealthy Alpha male I intend to marry.
Jake:
I just got stateside again a few months ago. I needed a job.
Emma:
Stateside?
Jake:
I was recording in Europe.
Emma:
Recording what, property deeds?
Jake:
I’m a guitarist. I played with Red Velvet for a bit, then Knockout Mouse.
Silence.
Jake:
We were all the rage round the ‘Dam. Also: Berlin, Cologne, Prague, Copenhagen and London.
Emma:
Which is how you ended up back in a boy’s school in Bryn Mawr. Had to flee Londontown before the lifestyle did you in, eh?
Jake:
That’s true, actually.
Emma:
You would have been better off asking my bra size.
Jake:
Come on, woman, give me a break. “Twenty-something, drifter guitarist” is a hot description. It’s way hotter than “wealthy Alpha male.”
Emma:
Um, no.
Jake:
I can be the good-looking bad boy that you never had, and you can be the angel that comes along and saves me from myself. You can hear it in my voice, don’t I sound dangerous?
Emma:
What the hell does dangerous sound like?
Jake (looking at himself, impressed):
Six-three, lean muscle, black T-shirt and jeans.
Emma:
That would hold my attention. But what do you look like?
Jake:
That’s me darlin’. I’m made entirely out of testosterone and danger. Along with my Strat, that’s pretty much all there is to me.
Emma:
Strat?
Jake (proudly):
Fender Stratocaster. My guitar. It’s a Rory Gallagher.
Emma:
So you are a sexy, broke rock star who fled London with an Irishman’s guitar to avoid a premature trip to the morgue.
Jake:
I am only twenty-six. Twenty-seven is when that tends to happen. How old are you?
Emma:
They’re black lace. Why are you leaving Bryn Mawr Academy, Jake?
Jake:
My gig’s up; I’m moving on.
Emma:
Where? Oh, wait, I forgot, you are a “drifter.” You’ll be going wherever Fate takes you.
Jake:
That’s here.
Emma:
OK, you lost me.
Jake:
I was in the act of leaving the building for the last time, but then I stopped and made this call.
Emma:
Oh, this is so lame.
Jake:
Something came over me. I’ve known about the numbers under the piano since I was in school here.