Cold Feet

A short dialogue by Chad Mazzola

[Two 17-year-olds are in the back seat of a car parked in the woods. It’s late on a school night.]

“You sure you wanna do this?”

“Yeah. I thought you did too?”

“I do, I do. I just wanna make sure.”

“You need to stop worrying.”

“I just don’t wanna start and for you to change your mind.”

“Look, didn’t we already decide?”

“I know, I know. It’s just. . . this is a big thing. I know we’ve talked about this a ton and we know. . .”

“Baby please, let’s just stop talking and do it.”

“Alright, you’re right.”

“You remembered to bring it, right?”

“Yeah, it’s right here.”



“Do you think it’s gonna hurt?”

“I don’t know. I hope not.”


“But, I mean, you don’t really know. . .”

“Baby I’ve never done this before either, obviously. You’re gonna hafta trust me.”

“I do. I just don’t want it to hurt.”

“Here, look at me. No, here, really look at me. You know that I love you, right?”

“Yes. I love you too.”

“You know I don’t want to hurt you, right?”

“I know. I want you to be happy too.”

[Long silence]

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Shhh. Don’t talk, just lay here with me.”

“I’m really afraid now. Do you think your dad’s gonna notice it’s missing?”

“Probably not until tomorrow.”

“Maybe you should just put it back. I don’t think I can do this. I just. . . I just need more time.”

“Alright, maybe you’re right. Man oh man oh man. Babe, are you okay?”

“Maybe we should talk to someone.”

“I guess. I mean, if you want.”

“I’m tired. I just wanna sleep. Put it away.”


“Make sure you unload it.”