Elliot Hilden, co-executive editor

Blair and Emily are best friends. Ask anyone, and they would tell you they’re a package deal, a duo so tight they basically have the same brain. There’s nothing they don’t know about each other, right? Interestingly enough, a cross-country road trip sure has a way of making secrets come to light…

Setting: The front seat of a janky hand-me-down car on the road trip that was supposed to change everything. EMILY is as curled as she can be in the passenger seat. Her best friend BLAIR is behind the wheel, tapping along to the tinny hum of the radio. 

BLAIR. So… Are we going to talk about it?

EMILY. Talk about what?

BLAIR. Emily. You know what.

EMILY shifts in her seat.

EMILY. No, I don’t think I do. Enlighten me. 

BLAIR. You. Your… behavior.

EMILY. My… “behavior?” 

BLAIR. Don’t take this the wrong way, but… You’ve been acting different lately. Ever since that night at the club, it’s like you’re a stranger. You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you keep fixating on that stupid necklace– 

EMILY. Stupid? (EMILY reaches up to her necklace, eyes fiery as they settle on BLAIR.) What are you trying to say, Blair?

BLAIR. Nothing! I’m just worried about you, man. You’re not yourself. 

EMILY sits with this, letting silence hang over the car. When she does speak, it’s clear this has shaken her

EMILY. You’re right.

BLAIR. I’m right?

EMILY. You’re right. I’m different. I’m… not normal. 

BLAIR. No, Em, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. Here. (BLAIR looks out at the road as she pulls the car over, turning to give EMILY her full attention.) I just meant that you aren’t the Emily I know. We don’t have to talk about it, but if you want to, I’m here. I’m always going to be here for you. 

EMILY. I don’t want it to be true. I don’t want to say it out loud because then it’s real, and I can’t let this be real. I can’t. 

BLAIR. I… I think I know what you mean. 

EMILY. (hopeful) You do? 

BLAIR nods, fidgeting with her hands. 

BLAIR. I have this… secret. And I haven’t said anything because if I do, then it’s real, and it’s out there, and I… I don’t know what will happen. 

EMILY’s eyes are wide. She listens to every word, unsure of whether it would be better or worse for them to be going through the same thing.

EMILY. Blair…

BLAIR. Yeah?

Both girls take a deep breath. They’ve never been more disconnected, but somehow, in this moment, they share the same thought. It’s now or never. 



EMILY. I think I’m dead. 

BLAIR. I'm in love with you. 

And there it is. The radio shuts off.

They speak over one another for a moment, then both go silent to let the other speak first. Eventually EMILY makes the first move.

EMILY. What did you say? 

BLAIR deflects.

BLAIR. Something that matters so much less than what you said. You’re dead?! Why? How? What?!

EMILY. I don’t know for certain, but that night at the club… You said you couldn’t find me. That’s because I was with a guy. It’s all really blurry…

BLAIR. Yeah, that’s what happens when you drink heavily, doesn’t mean you’re dead, Em. 




EMILY. That’s not why… Listen, I don’t remember it all, but I remember the guy, and I remember being terrified of him. He smiled at me while we were dancing, so I followed him outside, but then something shifted. His smile turned animalistic, predatory. The last thing I remember was running to the alley. (EMILY tears up, hugging herself.) When I woke up, he was gone, but I felt numb, and all my shit was gone. I tried to find you, but I guessed you had probably gone back to the motel, so I tried to ask people for directions, but they just… ignored me. 

BLAIR. Assholes. 

EMILY. They couldn’t see me, Blair. No one could. 

BLAIR. If that’s the case, why can I see you? And why did no one find your body?

EMILY. I don’t know! I don’t know anything. I tried to figure it out on my own, but obviously that hasn’t been working because if it had then we wouldn’t be having this conversation. 

BLAIR. Well… What do we do? 

EMILY. I don’t know. (BLAIR wipes her face then starts the car up, doing a sharp U-turn back the way they came.) Blair?

BLAIR. We need evidence. Facts. We have to figure out if you’re really dead, and if you are… We have to find the guy who did this, and make him pay. (BLAIR glances over at EMILY, determined.) You in? 

EMILY weighs the options, a small smile emerging as she nods. 

EMILY. I’m in. Let’s get that asshole.