I/E. JAMIE'S CAR/ INTERSTATE Shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all, Jamie walks down the side of the empty interstate. Tom sits in the front seat with the spare cell on speakerphone. Jamie speaks to him on her cell. JAMIE: And that's all you have to do. TOM: Speak to it. JAMIE: Yup. TOM: You heard that, right? JAMIE: Yes! I can't believe you've never used a phone before. TOM: Mr. Damien says they're not safe. The Gov'mint listens in. JAMIE: Out here? I'm surprised anyone can get a signal, even the NSA. Tom regards the phone for a moment. It's easier to say this to a machine than to her. TOM: I know the things Mr. Damien told us to do were wrong. A part of me always knew. JAMIE: Tom, you grew up there, you didn't know any better. TOM: 'Course I did. Everyone's got a part of them that knows right from wrong. Only true thing Mr. Damien ever said. JAMIE: I'm going to come back to the car now. Is there anything else you want to say before I do? TOM: I'm real glad you were driving down I-77 that night. Jamie smiles. Cuts off the call.

INT. JOE'S GARAGE - DAY A pair of small sneakered feet peek out from underneath a lipstick red Ferrari 430, along with the muffled sound of Beyonce's Single Ladies. Using her feet to propel her, Caroline's dolly zip out from under the car, as in one motion she grabs the phone from her overalls, rises to a seated position and answers. CAROLINE: Hey sweetie, what's up? INT. FORD MUSTANG GT500 - DAY Mike's driving conservatively along the PCH. Through the windshield we pass over the Los Angeles River, the sign for the 710 North and Pasadena on the right. His eyes dance, glancing off all the mirrors in quick succession like a hawk keeping guard. MIKE: Just wanted you to know I was going to be late, is all... got a problem at work I need to fix. INTERCUT CAROLINE AND MIKE CAROLINE: That's so sweet... how long do you think you'll be? MIKE: Couple of hours late, maybe... but I wouldn't cook, just in case. CAROLINE: Ok then, how about some carry-out from that new Chinese place by the hospital... um... -- MIKE: -- Lotus House? CAROLINE: Yeah, that one... don't tell me you already went without me. MIKE: Last week, just for lunch... all I had was soup. Honest. Mike spies the CHP in his rearview, accelerating towards him. MIKE: Honey, I really gotta go... something just came up. Lotus House sounds good. The War Won Ton was great. CAROLINE: Okay, see you later... Love you. MIKE: You too. INT. FORD MUSTANG GT500 - DAY As Mike hangs up, we hear the wail of sirens and see flashing cop lights. He turns to glare at the back seat where a pile of over-sized leather deposit bags lie, then to Troy in the passenger seat , headphones on like he's headbanging to some random speed metal band. He removes them. TROY: You'd better floor it. MIKE: Hold on. INT. JOE'S GARAGE - DAY Hairy Dave approaches the Ferrari, towers over her. HAIRY DAVE: Well? CAROLINE: I found them all, Boss, but it'll probably take most of tomorrow to change them. He nods approvingly, hands over a small freezer baggie holding a few metal strips. HAIRY DAVE: Why don't you start with the VIM tags by the windshield?

Here's what I like about both of these scenes: There's something else going on other than two heads talking. There's motion and tension, both dynamics which can elevate a phone call scene.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT The music plays in the background as DYKE (19), blond spiky hair and pointy nose, walks in circles in the room. As he speaks, he motions towards OS to lower the sound. DYKE: I know, I know I'm sorry. But you know the drill, it's me, it's you. I mean no, sorry, it's not you it's me. He contains a giggle. On the other side of the line, CAROLINE (18), sobs as she talks. CAROLINE (OS): Why did you change your mind? Just like that. DYKE: I didn't just change my mind, it's a long process baby. EXT. BRIDGE - NIGHT Caroline, long black hair and swollen eyes, stands on the edge of the bridge. CAROLINE: You calling me baby? Do you- still love me? INTERCUT - PHONE CONVERSATION Dyke mouthes "shit" without a sound. DYKE: I'm sorry, just habit. He walks around the table and grabs a glass of red wine. CAROLINE: I can't do this. I can't live thinking that you just fucked me. I need more. DYKE: More. Like. What? CAROLINE: Tell me you loved me. Tell me that we made love. Tell me that I just didn't give away my virginity to someone who doesn't give a shit. Dyke rolls his eyes has he sips on his wine. DYKE: Yea, yea I loved you and we made love and the rest as well. Caroline breaks into tears. She looks ahead, her stare lost in the city landscape, the lights surrounding the river's sides, the car lights moving around like thousands of fireflies. INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Caroline (OS): I can never go back. Dyke puts the phone down on the table without hanging up. He sits of the sofa next to SOFIA (17), tight skirts and gigantic cleavage. He kisses her. As they kiss, he puts his glass of wine on the edge of the table. In their passionate embrace, he hits the table with his foot. The glass falls. Hits the floor. The wine spreads onto the carpet. Red. Everywhere.