Getaway

1: Air

EXT. RILEY'S HOUSE—AFTERNOON

The house is tall, wide, actually has real grass. The other houses nearby do, too. There's a white sidewalk leading to the door, and a winding driveway. The air is cooler here. A fountain bubbles in the yard. Carson dips his hand in it as he passes, flicks water onto the grass.

RILEY: "Knew you'd do that."

Carson shoots him a look, rolls his eyes. He motions for Riley to lead the way. Riley sighs. He walks up the sidewalk, tennis racket bumping his leg. Carson follows.

INT. RILEY'S HOUSE, DEN—AFTERNOON

The house inside seems like it should be in a mountain-set mansion. Wood accents and wooly rugs are a heavy element. Pointless fancy statues stand in the corners. Family photos are on every wall. Carson stands on the welcome rug, looking especially disheveled.

In the kitchen, humming can be heard. Soon after the door shuts, a tall man steps into the den from the hallway. He's a Southern Gentleman™ with slight metro vibes, kind, lazy eyes, rough hands. His hair is messy, and his shirt is too large. He waves at the boys. He is Riley's father, Mr. Perkins.

He's has on an apron that says 'Kiss the Chef'; he holds a spatula, wears an easy smile.

MR. PERKINS: "Hi, Riles." (stunned) "And Carson! Wow, wasn't expecting you. You've grown so much. How've you been?"

Mr. Perkins walks into the room fully, clapping both boys on the shoulder. Riley smiles his 'Mr. President' smile; Carson steps away from the touch.

CARSON: (shrugging) "I've been better."

RILEY: "We're gonna go hang out upstairs."

Riley grabs Carson's sleeve, tugs him towards the stairs. Carson snatches his sleeve away, follows him.

INT. RILEY'S BEDROOM—CONT.

The room is large, spacious. It's relatively minimal: desk, bed, bookshelf, lamp. Riley walks in, tucks his tennis racket into a corner. Air conditioning hums.

RILEY: "So, like. Dude. What happened?"

Carson stands in the door, staring at his feet and the bedspread alternately.

CARSON: "You still have the same comforter."

RILEY: "Don't change the subject." (softer) "Just talk to me. What happened?"

Carson opens his mouth, looks unsure. Then, his face turns hard, along with his voice.

CARSON: "Don't wanna talk about it. Especially not to you."

Riley sighs, defeat clear in his shoulders. He walks to the dresser, starts to change his shirt. Carson decidedly doesn't look at him.

RILEY: (peeved) "C'mon, man, you know I di—"

MR. PERKINS (O.S): "Riley!" (peeking in the door) "I need your help with somethin' in the shed, okay, buddy?"

Riley freezes, shirt only half off. He looks at Carson, back at his dad.

RILEY: (pleasant) "I don't wanna be rude to company. Can't just have Carson sit here by himself, you know?"

Mr. Perkins smiles, nods for a moment, doesn't leave. He turns, then, to Carson.

MR. PERKINS: "Aw, Carson's been here tons of times, haven't you, son? He won't mind." (not waiting for a response) "It'll only take a minute."