INT. CAFETERIA - DAY
EMILY HART, 16, porcelain, tanned skin, and chocolate brown hair and eyes, wraps her arms around BRENNAN WRIGHT, 17, with dark brown eyes and dirty blonde hair, melting her lips firmly against his. A crowd circled the two of them. Brennan's lips traveled down Emily's neck, the length of her shoulder as he leaned in towards her and his fiery breath tickled her lobe.
BRENNAN
(whispering)
You're a bitch.
Emily smirks. Her body sways against Brennan's, and she pulls Brennan in, closing in on him, leaning close to his ear.
EMILY
(Whispering)
I know.
JENNIFER RAMONE, 17, whipping her long, dark hair behind her chocolate figure, pushing her way through the crowd. Emily pulled off of Brennan and licked her lips. She likes his lips, finishing the deed.
JENNIFER
Brennan... With her?
Brennan stares shocked at Jennifer.
BRENNAN
I-I didn't mean to—
Jennifer wipes fake tears away and storms off in the other direction through the crowd.
EMILY
(Sarcastic)
Oops.
BRENNAN
This... this is your fault.
EMILY
Yeah, I know. Now the sixth-period bell is about to ring in oh—
A loud bell rings just in time.
EMILY
Now. See you later, Brennan.
Emily waves in Brennan's direction, and the crowd parts as Emily makes her way towards the exit.
INT. CLASSROOM - DAY
Emily plops her books down on the desk and flips her feet up on the seat beside her. Students pile in the classroom and mad dog her. She reaches in her bag, grabs bubble gum, and pops it in her mouth as she chews and bobs her head. ARTHUR JACKSON, 15, glasses, braces, and a bad haircut, taps Emily on the shoulder as her head bobbing and chewing abruptly stops.
EMILY
What do you want, Arthur?
Arthur pushes his glasses back into the bridge of his nose.
ARTHUR
I, uh, I want to sit there.
Emily blows a bubble in Arthur's face.
EMILY
Too bad.
Arthur searches the classroom for a seat.
ARTHUR
There—
Arthur sucks in a sharp breath.
ARTHUR
There's nowhere else to sit.
EMILY
So sit on the floor.
MR. HARRISON, the late '30s and hot clears his throat and looks their way. Arthur slings his bag on the floor as he pulls himself down against the wall.
MR. HARRISON
Ms. Hart?
EMILY
Yeah? My name is Emily.
MR. HARRISON
Let Mr. Jackson have a seat.
Emily rolls her eyes and pulls her feet off the chair. Arthur heaves himself off the ground and slams his stuff on the table with Emily. She looks up at the board. Mr. Harrison has written the word sex in big letters and points with his finger.
Mr. Harrison
Does anyone know anything about sex hormones?
Multiple hands go up. Mr. Harrison points to FRANCISCO URI, who looked closely related to Arthur and could pass for his twin in the back, but ROSELLA SANCHEZ, a 17-year-old who could pass for fourteen, brushes her bleach blonde hair away from her face before interjecting.
HARRISON
Yes, Rosella?
ROSELLA
I've had sex before. It was amazing. How about you, Mr. Harrison?
MR. HARRISON
Excuse me?
The goth girl SAMIRA JOHNSON, dressed in all black and giving off a fuck you attitude to everyone she looked at, quickly interrupted Rosella.
SAMIRA
You gross slut! He's like forty.
Emily rolls her eyes, pulling her gum from her mouth and sticking it underneath the desk beneath her, and lays down on her desk, shutting her eyes.
INT. CLASSROOM - DAY
A tap on the shoulder wakes Emily. She opens her eyes, and an unfamiliar blue pair stares back at her. AARON CHANSON, 16, with blue eyes and dark hair, stares at her before leaning in close.
AARON
School is over, you know?
Emily lifts her head, wiping drool from the corner of her lips, and shakes her head.
EMILY
(groggy)
What?
AARON
You slept through our last period. School is over.
EMILY
Hallelujah!
Aaron laughs. Emily grabs her backpack off the chair's back and makes her way toward the classroom exit. Aaron follows.
EMILY
You think I'm funny?
The boy trails behind Emily down the hallway to her locker, and while Emily strives to remember her locker combination, she similarly attempts to avoid the boy's gaze from the corner of her eye. Still, she turns on her heels to face him after acknowledging her silhouette wasn't going anywhere.
EMILY
What do you want?
Emily gazes in his direction momentarily. He smiles, showing off his perfectly straight teeth. He can pass for a movie star with his stunningly precise cut jawline and intense ocean blue eyes.
AARON
You left your cellphone on the desk. I thought you might need that back.
He puffs his chest. His eyes pale under the hallway lights as he reaches into his pocket. Emily's cellphone unsuccessfully skims from his fingertips because the guy is a total klutz. Her head mentally slams into a nearby wall as she expects her cell phone to plunge to the floor.
EMILY
You pansy.
Emily veers forward, grasping her phone before he can, dusting the dirt and debris from the screen.
EMILY
Who are you, anyway?
Aaron grins half-heartedly and blows fiery breath from his cheek into Emily's nostrils. If he weren't chewing mint gum at that moment, she would have shoved some down his throat.
AARON
Aaron Chanson.
He whispers his name softly, leaning in towards her face.
EMILY
Well, Aaron Chanson.
Her hands guide him against the lockers behind her.
EMILY
Thank you for fetching my cell phone, but I'm leaving now.
Emily slams her locker hard and arrogantly grins in his direction before pulling her bag over her shoulder and sauntering off towards the parking lot.
INT. SCHOOL PARKING LOT - DAY
She pulls open the side door to her convertible and slides in. It's a beat-up stick shift from the eighties. It was the only car her mother could afford.
EMILY
Ah, Cher. What would I do without you?
She may be an old Camry, but she loves her. Emily calls her Cher. Tossing her backpack in the back seat, Emily puts the keys in the ignition, and Cher starts up with a rumble. She revs the engine and pulls back the stick, pushing out of the parking lot and onto the road. The wind brushes Emily's face, and she pushes harder on the gas pedal as Cher screeches wildly down. Emily comes to a halt at a red light and grabs hold of the messy bun on her head. Her hair flies back as she presses on the gas. Mr. Toad's wild ride has nothing on Emily.
Emily's house is only a few miles away from the light, and she takes the rest of the drive home a little slower, coming to a halt in front of 335 N. Bluntington street and yanks her keys from Cher's cylinder.
Emily pulls her bag from the back seat, swinging open the side door and stomping her way towards the front porch.
EMILY
(CONT'D)
(Calling into the house as
she enters)
Mom, I'm home.
Emily swung her forward and unzipped the front pocket, dropping her keys in the sleeve, and pulled out her phone, securing the bag. She drops her backpack back down on the floor and makes her way toward the staircase.
Emily stops in front of her dad's picture, making it halfway. It was hanging crooked. Not that she cares. Her step-dad was the most disrespectful son of a bitch she ever knew. She doesn't understand why mom even liked him, and she doesn't know why they even keep pictures of him in the house. She is just glad that he passed away.
A picture of a younger version of Emily hangs next to her stepfather. Emily's dorky massive set seventh-grade yearbook picture with braces, glasses, and acne hangs a little crooked. Emily threw her hair in partial pigtails to hide how chopped it looked because a boy threw his wad of gum in her hair the day before the school took yearbook pictures. Her skin looks as though it's sun-kissed by radiation from all the acne treatments she's tried, and her chubby little fingers push their way into her dimples, trying to make a cute expression, but it's not adorable. It's far from it.
Emily shifts away from that thought and hurries the rest of the way up the stairs, trying not to slip on the satin carpet as she makes her way down the hallway to her room and slams the door behind her.
Emily sighs, crashing back against her cozy dark blue sheets that match her baby blue walls, dropping her cell phone to her chest, and pulling the sheets against her skin. It feels nice to be home.
Emily reaches for her cell phone against her chest and turns it on. It wasn't like she had any messages, but she was eager to check.
The home screen comes alive, and unexpectedly a new message pops up on the net. Emily reads out loud to herself.
INTERCUT — TEXT MESSAGE
AARON (V.O.)
Hey, this is A.C. I Just thought I would put my number on this phone in case of any emergencies.
Emily groans, gripping her phone in her hand, and contemplates chucking it across the room before a creak of the door shows her mother is there. Emily's head whips towards the doorway. Her mom grins, standing against the door frame, holding a bag of groceries in each of her hands.
MS. HART
Who are you texting, Emily?
Emily grunts, pulling up the covers further around her torso. Ms. Hart shifts her weight on her left leg and places the bag on the floor.
EMILY
Does it matter, mom? I mean, it's just a text.
Ms. Hart inches forward as Emily pulls herself towards the top of the bed. She smiles as her mother sits down. Scrunching her nose, Emily placed her phone on her chest again. Her mother pats the edge, and Emily hurries toward her.
MS. HART
I've got a late shift in a little while. I won't be able to see you in the morning.
Ms. Hart rubs Emily's thigh. Emily pats her phone against her palm and sighs. Emily never liked her mom's midnight shifts, but nothing she could do about it. Her mom is a hard worker, and her job is essential to her.
EMILY
Okay.
Emily exhales longer than she wants to as she slumps against her bed again.
MS. HART
See you tomorrow, sweetheart.
Emily grimaces, watching her mother leave the room. Emily blows her hair out of her face and glances at her phone.
EMILY
See you tomorrow.
INT. BEDROOM - NEXT DAY
An alarm clock chirps loud in the background as Emily's eyes peel open and shoot over towards the sound.
EMILY
Shit!
Emily pulls the covers off her body in one swoop and leaps out of bed.
CUT TO:
INT. BATHROOM - DAY
In Pajamas, Emily, slippers, no makeup, and a bird's nest for hair, races towards the bathroom and shuts the door behind her.
TIME CUT:
INT. BATHROOM - DAY
In a light shade of lipstick and mascara, Emily emerges from behind the bathroom door to her bedroom, pulling my hair into a messy bun.
Her dark blue jeans tug at her thighs as she yanks them up above my hips. Her white cropped shirt swings just below her ribs, and her black, dirty high tops look a little messier than she remembers. She did a double-take.
EMILY
Yep.
Emily makes her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. The reflection of the bright sun bounces directly off the shiny countertops as she grabs a banana and swoops to the door, almost forgetting her backpack off the stained wood floor.
EMILY
Bye, mom.
Emily slams the door behind her and opens the front pocket of her bag. She juggles her keys and banana between her fingertips and closes the pocket.
EXT. CAR - DAY
Two lanes of traffic hold up Emily, who sits quietly, blasting music. Rumbling laughter pounds her sparse eardrums even though her music is on full blast, but she turns my head to the right to please the couple sitting in the car next to her. Brennan and Jennifer wave at Emily from their vehicle.
BRENNAN
(Taunting tone)
Good morning, Emily.
Brennan keeps his hands glued to the wheel and revs his engine. Emily ground her teeth together and mumbled a brief prayer to 'please make it stop.'
Jennifer grasps Brennan's bicep as her hands slowly drag against his buttery skin.
Emily bites her tongue. She has a four-letter word reserved for both dumbasses.
JENNIFER
See you around, Emily.
Their words were all bark. A chihuahua could do more damage than that.
EMILY
(Mocking Jennifer)
Okay, see you.
The lines are finally moving again, but as Emily's car pushes its way into the only lane available, Brennan cuts her off, throwing up bird signs, and a Cheshire grin pulls his lips apart as he switches lanes.
EMILY
Fucking dicks.
Emily pulls in behind them.
INT. SCHOOL - HALLWAY - DAY
JEREMY HAWKE, 16, a high school jock, stares at Emily like a predator watching its prey from Emily's locker as she approaches. His left arm slips over the neck and shoulder of one female while his lips suffocate another. Then he unlocks his lips as Emily approaches.
JEREMY
Dear Emily Hart.
Jeremy slips his fingers through his hair, and the girls leave his side.
He clicked his tongue.
JEREMY
How's your mother?
EMILY
That's my locker, Jeremy.
Jeremy ruffles Emily's bun on her head.
JEREMY
Sure it is, Emily.
Emily's brows furrow in protest ass she debates whether or not to slap him.
JEREMY
I have to go to class. Isn't there somewhere you have to be, Emily?
Just as the warning bell rings, Jeremy walks off. Emily sighs and opens her locker.
EMILY
What a jerkwad.
Emily attracts a few glances.
EMILY
(CONT'D)
Yeah, I said that.
Emily slams her locker, crushing her fingers in the door.
EMILY
Shit.
INT. CLASSROOM #1 - DAY
Emily slams her backpack on the closest desk available to the teacher's desk. However, Mr. Bellingham doesn't seem to care about the wicked bitch of the west and her reign of terror.
EMILY
Oh, goodie, the whole gang's here.
Emily is too busy twirling her pencil to care. Aaron, the new boy, is sitting three rows from her, staring at her every so often. Once the final warning bell rings, MR. BANGALORE, tall, tanned, with glasses, rises from his seat, reciting the daily announcements in his best monotonous voice.
MR. BANGALORE
Good Morning, everyone; please be seated. That means you, Mr. HALKE.
Jeremy HAWKE giggles like a nine-year-old girl getting over her first crush as he plops down in the back row with Cece Greenwood's group, chewing and sucking on his lip to keep himself quiet.
MR. BANGALORE
I'd like to start with a few announcements before letting you go to your assigned classes. First, we have a new student.
As if on cue, Aaron rises from his seat and bows, and returns to his place with pride and a puffed chest.
MR. BANGALORE
Yes, that was Aaron. He will be in your homeroom... Moving on. The cafeteria will serve pizza today. If you are lactose intolerant, the nurse has something for you to take. That means you, Arthur-
Poor Arthur's cheeks turn orange and puffy as he holds his breath. Emily bites her tongue and plugs her nose, holding back laughter. Hence the word try.
MR. BANGALORE
It is not funny when someone has a severe condition that is difficult to tame.
Mr. Bangalore's monotone voice is louder than expected, but he brushes his scolding under the rug and moves on. Emily takes a long breath.
MR. BANGALORE
Halloween prom night is coming Saturday, October 27th, in a week and a half. That also means we're still searching for this year's prom ghoul queen and king. If you are interested in becoming this year's king or queen, you must be on your best behavior to be eligible to be a candidate. The sign-up sheet will be on the board in the hallway.
The first bell rings, and students rush from their seats to the doorway.
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Emily throws her books in her locker and slams it shut when ALENA HEMMING, 14, braces, acne, and nerdy, stands behind her.
EMILY
What. Do you want. Alena?
ALENA
Well, we still have a book club, and I wondered if you wanted to join?
Emily rolls her eyes.
EMILY
How many times do I have to tell you, Alena. I—Don't—Do Book, Club. Why don't you ask Arnold?
Emily points to the couple making out in the corner, and Aleena's head turns.
ALEENA
Arr-Arnold Hemm?
EMILY
Yeah, now. Bye, Aleena.
Emily gave her a little shove as she walked off in his direction.
Just as Emily flipped on her sneakers again, Aaron Chanson's blue eyes peered into hers. He is so close, she's breathing his air, and their noses dance as they peel our foreheads from one another.
EMILY
What do you want?
AARON
Oh, I'm—
Emily cuts him off.
EMILY
I don't want to know.
AARON
Yeah, but can I, uh —
Did he honestly think she cares?
EMILY
No—
Emily walks off towards the classroom, swaying her hips as she walks. News flash, she doesn't give a shit.
INT. CLASSROOM #2 - DAY
Emily slides her backpack on the back of the chair, gazing into the corner of the room at the cackling buffoons. Cece and her crew are just asking for trouble.
CECELIA GREENWOOD (CECE), a ginger-haired, wealthy, spoiled goddess-looking girl, glares at Emily. Brennan leaned into Cece's bubble space and whispered in her big rat ears. Emily shrugs it off, slamming her ass to the seat on something sticky, and her eyes widen. Emily keeps her eyes on them.
EMILY
(groaning under her
breath)
Well, shit!
Cece and her group cackle like a pack of hyenas on the prowl, and Emily sucks in the air, chewing on her bottom lip in frustration as a loud growl suddenly rumbles from her chest.
EMILY
What the fuck did you do?
JENNIFER HANSON, 16, and an Asian goddess purr softly in the doorway, glaring as she giggles.
JENNIFER
Maybe be more careful.
EMILY
You're not even in this class, Jennifer.
Emily attempts to stand but fails horribly.
EMILY
Did you fucking superglue my ass to the chair.
She tugs at the loose parts of the fabric. They laugh harder.
JEREMY
Maybe.
A smug smile tugs at his lips; Emily feels the need to slap it off of him.
EMILY
What is your problem?
Emily gives one last tug, and her pants rip at the seams awkwardly with sound effects.
A scream roars from Emily's lips. She jumps from her seat, showing off her pretty dark blue lace panties that rip from the seams, and storms from the classroom, avoiding glares, showing everyone London's most beautiful.
INT. PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE - DAY
Mr. Davis was busy getting over a call when Emily charged into his office, showing off her exposed rear, which was raw and itchy. He averted his eyes to his desk and readjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose, taking a sip of coffee.
MR. DAVIS
Ms. Hart. You know we have a dress code here at Payton High, right?
EMILY
Yes, but—
Mr. Davis pulls his hand in the air to stop her.
MR. DAVIS
(Interrupting Emily)
Ms. Hart, that is detention. You're going to need new pants. Report to lost and found, please.
Emily rolls her eyes.
EMILY
Mr. Davis. They glued my ass to the seat. It wasn't my fault—
MR. DAVIS
(Interrupting Emily again)
Who? The school faeries? Now go, please, before I have to suspend you.
It was clear Mr. Davis hadn't liked Emily since she started school. As Emily stomps out of the doorway, she notices the Dorkis new boy standing there, getting the best view. Her fist presses firmly against his nostrils, surprising him as he bounces back against the wall.
EMILY
What do you want, pervert?
Aaron pulls off the wall and wipes his bloody nose on his hand, pulling himself back in defense.
AARON
I just wanted to see Mr. Davis.
He leans against the wall. Emily glares into Aarons's eyes, watching him jump, and she giggles to herself.
AARON
Look, I saw what Cece did to you in the classroom. Is there any way I can help you?
EMILY
What do you think.
Aaron groans, feeling weak as he pulls off the wall but cowardly away. Emily turns on her heels and walks when she feels him breathing on her again. She spins around.
EMILY
What?
Aaron chews on his lip, plays with the zipper on his hoodie, and pulls it down.
AARON
At least take my hoodie.
He pulls at the sleeves and yanks the sweatshirt from his body. It smelled heavily of cologne and laundry detergent.
AARON
Just take it.
Aaron hands Emily his hoodie. She reluctantly takes it, weighing it in her arms, staring at his big blue eyes, trying to figure him out. The hoodie is warm and soft, Cozy, and as she wraps it around her waist, he clears his throat.
AARON
A thank you would suffice.
EMILY
You wish.
Emily walks off down the hallway.
INT. EMILY'S KITCHEN - NIGHT
Emily and her mother sit at the dining table, staring at overcooked pasta and slimy salad that is probably weeks old and smells like a dead rat's butthole. Ms. Hart wiped her brows and cleared her throat as we looked up from our plates.
MR. HART
I'll order pizza, I guess.
Emily's mom sighs with pouty lips.
EMILY
I'll find the phone, mom.
Emily rises from her seat. Her mom doesn't say a word. Emily searches the kitchen. There are only about two phones in the house since the other two broke, and they always go missing for some weird reason.
Ms. Hart's eyes follow Emily's to the mounds of paperwork and junk that are pretty much useless. Emily is getting the feeling that her mom is a hoarder. Her mom would get rid of some of this stuff with any luck, but no. They're stuck with her dad's old things that Ms. Hart refuses to get rid of. It was as if they attached her to the son of a bitch.' He did more damage than anyone Emily ever knew, and she couldn't wait until the day when her mom just got rid of all of his stuff.
Looking under a pile of dust and files, Emily finds what they are looking for as Emily swats dust from the air.
EMILY
Mom, we need to keep better track of our phones.
Emily holds a phone up to my right. Her eyes shift to the stack of paperwork and piles of junk.
MS. HART
Maybe we can clean up the house this weekend?.
Ms. Hart rises from her seat and pulls the phone gently from Emily's hand.
EMILY
That's if you're going to be here.
Emily rolls her eyes in disgust. Ms. Hart pats Emily's back for comfort. Emily takes a deep sigh.
MS. HART
I know, it's just... I have a long, late-night shift at the hospital, and you know we need the money.
It's hard watching Emily's mother so saddened as her eyes drop, but there is nothing Emily could do without getting her fired, and it is a tragedy how much she knows that was the truth, so she doesn't argue.
EMILY
Are we ordering pizza?
Emily slams back down onto the chair.
MS. HART
Chinese food?
Ms. Hart chuckles.
INT. KITCHEN - NIGHT
Emily grabbed her black jeans from the sink and pulled them on. She throws on a grey shirt and a leather jacket and holds my brush. Usually, her hair isn't too tangled, but it's a bird's nest that night. Emily pulls at her hair with effort, and she releases the brush at the tips of her matted hair. She grabs mascara off the counter and pulls and plucks at her eyelashes until they're the length she wants. Emily stares at her imperfections in the mirror. Her nose was thin, her eyes were too deep brown, and her lips were too small, but she was still beautiful.
Emily makes her way back down the hallway towards her bedroom, into her closet, and grabs her black high tops and socks. They slip on with ease. She then grabbed her black flat-billed hat and snapped it on her head. Walking down the stairs, Emily looks at a picture of her mother and her when she was younger. Sometimes she wishes she could go back to those days. When everything was OK, her real dad was in the picture.
She glances at her stepfather's image, and her jaw clenches tight. She counts the stairs as she walks down. She can't look at those photos anymore. They aren't my favorite memories, and she can't stand the sight of my stepfather anymore.
Emily slips into the kitchen, pulling open a jar full of money.
EMILY
Mom, I'm going out—I'm also taking 20 dollars from the jar.
Emily grabs a hand full of bills out of the pot. She stuffs them in her back pocket and makes her way toward the front door. Emily holds her backpack off the floor and pulls her keys from the front pocket, tossing them. She throws her bag over her shoulder and catches the passes. Emily takes a deep breath.
EXT. MOVIE THEATER - DAY
EMILY
Shit.
Emily tiptoes around a bush, trying to get to the theater, and avoid noise. She is usually good at these kinds of plots. So, what are the movie times. She leans on a guy's shoulder, walking with him into the theater. His hoodie conceals his face, and he pulls off a wall. Suddenly he pulls his hood down, revealing...
AARON
Oh, hey, Emily.
EMILY
Son of a bitch!
AARON
(Interrupting Emily)
Were you looking for someone else?
EMILY
No, just, hide me.
Emily gestures to Cece and her friends standing on the opposite side of the theater. Aaron chuckles.
AARON
From them?
EMILY
Yep.
Emily grabs his shirt with her thin fingers, dragging him behind a booth.
AARON
(Trying to be smooth)
Hide and seek?
Emily grips his shirt firmer and whacks his shoulder hard.
EMILY
Shut up.
Cece rolls her eyes and looks their way.
AARON
Whoops.
Aaron pulls out of Emily's grip.
CECE
Oh, look, it's Emily.
Cece's posse follows as she makes her way over.
CECE
Who's the dork.
Cece snorts. Aaron doesn't seem offended at all. Instead, Emily defends what little dignity she has.
EMILY
Look, I just came out to have a good time. If you can't have that, maybe you should leave.
Cece laughs.
CECE
Me, leave? That's hilarious.
BRENNAN
You're the one who should leave.
Now, Aaron tries to defend Emily, coming to her rescue.
AARON
Stop this! One of these days, she will overpower you. One day she's going to be president of the school, and this year she will be a prom queen.
Emily smacks her forehead against an imaginary wall. She knows they defeated her.
CECE
I can't believe the nerd just said that—wait, I do.
Cece slaps each of her squadron's hands. Just when Emily thinks it over, things get worse.
CECE
Wait, did you think you could make prom queen? That's not an option, sweetheart. And please let me know how everything works out for you in the school elections this year. I'd love to know.
Cece's grin grows, her eyes glued to Emily's. Without another word, Emily charges from the movie theater, tears streaming from her face. Cece win's again. No surprise there.
AARON
Wait!
Aaron trails behind, and Emily speeds up her footpace. She makes it to her car before realizing she dropped her keys. More tears engulf her eyes, and her mascara runs.
EMILY
What do you want, Aaron?
Emily wipes a stray tear away. Aaron catches up with Emily. His breath tickles her cheeks with each exhale.
AARON
Don't listen to them. They're just bullies.
EMILY
And I'm not?
AARON
Well...You're different. I can just tell.
EMILY
And you're a dork.
He looks into her eyes, taking cautious breaths. Their fingertips brush randomly, and she can't pull away.
AARON
Look, I know something about you. They don't. A secret that would ruin your reputation if people found out the truth.
Emily's breath catches in her throat. She doesn't dare look into his ocean eyes. It's a death wish. She pulls back.
EMILY
Yeah, what is it?
AARON
What is what?
He runs his fingers through his hair.
EMILY
What's the secret?
He smirks. Emily sniffs her leftover tears back.
AARON
I can't tell you, or it wouldn't be a secret.
He laughs, recoiling towards Cher.
AARON
Cool car. Are you into the classics?
Emily nods; Her eyes never meet his. He holds out a pair of car keys in his hand. He baffles her.
AARON
I also believe these are yours.
EMILY
Are you stalking me?
Her keys dangle at the tip of his index finger.
AARON
Now, that's my secret.
Emily rolls her eyes, snatching her keys from his finger. The door pulls open, and she slides in. He watches her with an eye roll of his own. Emily revs the engine and pulls out of the parking lot without another word.
INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY
Emily's shoes sweep against the hallway floors as she maneuvers through. Cece grimaces, whipping her head around, and a loud screech breaks through her vocal cords, rattling Emily's peak eardrums.
CECE
Emily Hart!
Cece flips her long orange hair, twirls on her expensive shoes to match her outfit, and looks at Emily. Emily amuses her with a grimace and a click of the tongue.
CECE
Why is your name on the prom board?
The real question is, who put it there?
EMILY
What, you think I wrote that?
Emily pushes past Cece's twig arms.
CECE
It's your chicken scratch, bitch.
Emily's eyes dodge the many looky-loos as she marches up to the bulletin board. Cece is right. In big, black letters, someone forged Emily's name onto the nearly blank sheet in some of the worst scribble writing she's ever seen, below Samira Johnson and Cece Greenwood.
CECE
There is no way you will ever become the queen of my Halloween dance.
Cece's foggy breath brushes Emily's neck. She prepares to take a bath in bleach. Emily's shoes flip turn as she swivels my head towards a very puffed Cece and grins.
EMILY
What's the matter? Are you scared of a bit of competition?
Cece rolls her eyes and buffs, wailing back at Emily.
CECE
No, I'm not. Samira has a much better chance of winning than you do, anyway.
EMILY
You think I care?
Cece's teeth ground together, and her lips slightly tug at the edges.
CECE
You should care about this.
The tiny wheels in Cece's head turn, looking for a fight, but Emily turns away and stomps off to class.
INT. CLASSROOM #1 - DAY
Emily's bag lugs against her desk, and she plops down hard on the chair before noticing Jeremy missing from his seat. She prepares a loud screech in her head as he slides into the desk next to hers and scoots closer to her, but it never escapes her lips.
EMILY
How can I help you, Jeremy?
She turns to face him. His big green eyes brought out his gremlin features nicely, and as his animalistic smile pulled at his fuzzy devilish face, she realized how adorable he was, which was a kind of scary. Jeremy's sarcasm slurs his speech as his left-hand drags along Emily's shoulder.
JEREMY
Well, Emily.
He inches closer, and her eyes widen.
EMILY
What?
JEREMY
So, who are you going with for the Halloween prom, babe?
His tongue brushes Emily's ear, tickling her right lobe as if it's a canvas, but as she pulls away, he yanks her closer.
JEREMY
Girls like you don't get to wear crowns, Emily.
Jeremy pulls away, releasing the pressure on Emily's shoulder blades as he lets go of her. Aaron walked in with his hoodie tucked over his hair and tapped Jeremy on the shoulder.
AARON
Are you bothering this young lady?
Jeremy turns around, unamused by Aarons's sudden bravery.
JEREMY
Who the hell do you think you are?
Aaron's eyes grow as the two of them exchange looks.
AARON
Well, she doesn't want to be bothered.
JEREMY
Well, it should be clear that you're bothering her.
Emily suddenly slams her palm against the desk, and they turn their heads toward her. A grimace pulls across her lips.
EMILY
Jeremy, go. Aaron, sit.
JEREMY
Whatever, Emily, but this little wimp can't protect you.
Jeremy pulls himself from the seat. He touches the edge of her shoulder, but Emily pulls back in surprise. Aaron slipped into the chair next to her.
EMILY
Don't touch me.
AARON
Noted.
INT. CAFETERIA - DAY
Aaron sits with Emily during lunch that same day. She would have snapped at him for even daring to take a seat; however, she is more interested in the chatty Cathy sitting three tables from her.
Jeremy adjusts his leather jacket, monitoring Emily. Suddenly, Aaron glances over at Jeremy briefly before speaking up.
AARON
Why, again, do you let them bully you?
Aaron raises his eyebrow as his fork slams into his salad.
EMILY
I don't think you should ask questions.
Emily snatches a fry off Aaron's tray. He doesn't seem to be bothered. Instead, he grips the edges of his tray.
AARON
What's with the bad girl act, Emily? This is not mean girls on reruns, and I know this isn't you.
Emily catches a few eyes staring as she grips her tray.
EMILY
How do you know? You're just the new kid. You don't have any idea who I am.
AARON
I know you're not a monster like Cece.
EMILY
How would you know that? I didn't even go to school here, jerk.
With a grunt and a growl from them, Emily grabs her tray, storming off separately. She walks past Jeremy, sitting directly across from Cece. His leg swings forward, Emily's chest drops, and she collapses instantly against his lap. A scream echoes in the dining hall. Cece pulls drenched salad, fries, and milk from her hair, face, and body. Brennan and Jeremy giggle like two-year-olds, leaving Jessica and Jennifer rushing to Cece's aid. Emily pulls to her feet.
CECE
What the fuck, Emily.
The cafeteria suddenly becomes quiet.
EMILY
Oops.
CECE
Emily Hart, you've done it now.
Cece screams again, slopping food from her dress and arms. Brennan's smirk grows, and Cece's head swivels to face him.
CECE
What are you grinning at, Brennan. It is not funny...
BRENNAN
(Yelling loud)
Food Fight!
The cafeteria turns into a war zone. Most of the students throw food, stand there and cry like poor little Cece, and others take shelter or are lucky to evacuate. Food flung every which way. Emily ducks behind a nearby table and grabs a new tray for armor.
Their five minutes of war is over after Mr. Harriman, caught with a half-ate twinkie and some pudding, smashed against his forehead and glasses.
MR. HARRIMAN
Okay, who started this.
Everyone pauses, watching Mr. Harriman pull dessert from his soft hair.
MR. HARRIMAN
Well, if no one's going to confess, you're all going to be in trouble.
He slops more pudding to the floor. Looking at the doorway, Emily sees Aaron. He peers in, looking at her. She takes a deep breath, pulls some unknown food particles from her hair, and stands up.
EMILY
It was me, Mr. Harriman. I started it.
Mr. Harriman takes a deep breath and exhales, slowly pointing to the doorway. Aaron disappears.
MR. HARRIMAN
Mrs. Hart, please report to Mr. Davis' office. He'll want to speak to you.
Pulling more food from her hair, student Emily walks off.
INT. MR. DAVIS' OFFICE - DAY
Mr. Davis is working on something when Emily walks in. She collapses in a chair in front of him. He looks at her in what feels like fatherly rage.
MR. DAVIS
I assume you're here because the food splattered all over you?
EMILY
If you just let me explain—
Emily pulls more of the disgusting mess from her jacket.
MR. DAVIS
I suppose you'll blame the school fairies again?
EMILY
No, I meant—
MR. DAVIS
(Interrupting Emily)
If you try that move one last time with me, I'm invoking your prom privileges, and yes, I saw the board and the cafeteria food fight.
EMILY
Brennan, Jeremy, and Cece—
MR. DAVIS
Ms. Hart, I officially ground you from prom privileges.
Emily: You're not my dad.
Emily stands up, about to storm out of the office, when Mr. Davis gives his last words.
MR. DAVIS
You're cleaning up the cafeteria too.
Emily turns to look at him.
EMILY
That's where I'm going.
With that, Emily is off to the Cafeteria.
INT. CAFETERIA - DAY
MR. CANNERY, a young janitor, glares at Emily as she walks into the cafeteria. Her eyes bulge as she stares at the mess, and bile hits the top of her throat, but she quickly swallows, looking over at Mr. Cannery.
EMILY
So...
Mr. Cannery points to a bucket and mop in the middle of the room, and she slowly makes her way over. The bucket smells like old urine and many other disgusting things. Emily pulls the mop from the bucket. Vomit, round two, rushes her throat like a gushing volcano, but as she holds it down with a sour stomach, someone grips her from behind, and she turns around as a tiny belch slips from her lips.
AARON
Geez, don't puke on me, Cinderella. I want to help.
Emily lets out a slight hiccup.
EMILY
Go away, dorkis.
Aaron chuckles, prying the mop from Emily's fingertips, glancing at the janitor.
AARON
Yo, Mr. Cannery. Do you have anything she can do?
Emily blushes, chewing on her lower lip. Mr. Cannery removes his headphones and sighs, pointing to his cart.
MR. CANNERY
Yeah, she can sweep.
EMILY
Oh, great.
Her shoes squeak toward the broom, but Aaron pulls her back.
AARON
I'll get it for you.
Beat.
EMILY
I'm not helpless, you know?
Emily walks past him to retrieve the broom. He sighs, trudging behind, dragging the mop with him.
AARON
You know, the old Emily Hart I used to know would have said thanks and let a guy help her out, but I'm guessing you've changed a lot.
Emily leans on the broom, looking cool, but it only worsens.
EMILY
Do we know each other?
An alien snort leaves her lips.
AARON
Why, in fact, we do.
They go to work.
AARON
Well, sort of? We used to go to another school together.
EMILY
I don't remember you.
Emily dims her eyesight with a squint.
EMILY
What school did you attend?
AARON
Valvular middle school. I was the weird kid everyone thought was gay. You know, the one that kissed Jaxton Bernett over a bet?
Emily snorts again.
EMILY
You've finally gotten over them, I see?
AARON
No, my father got a promotion, and we wanted to be closer.
EMILY
Oh.
The two are mopping and sweeping, and suddenly, Aaron is close to Emily, dropping his mop.
AARON
I want to show you something, Emily.
Aaron takes Emily's broom from her hands. His big blue eyes glance into her brown eyes.
AARON
Okay, I'm going to teach you how to dance. Ready?
She silently judges him, watching him work the broom.
AARON
Okay, it's a quick step forward left, step forward with your right, step back with your left, and together. It's simple, but it's the opposite for you. Now it's your turn.
Aaron hands her the broom, and she stares at it as if it's a ghost. He grabs her hands and guides her.
AARON
Step forward right, step forward with your left, step back with your right, and glide together.
A small smile forms on the border of Emily's lips, and she's entirely unaware that they're holding hands.
It's a Beauty and the Beast fairytale moment, except he's the beauty, and Emily is the beast. Their feet shuffle across the cafeteria with twists and spins as Aaron pulls her close. They turn left, and as they spin right, Emily's foot catches on the mop, and Aaron falls right on top of her onto the floor. Aaron brushes himself off, and they rise to their feet.
Aaron grins.
AARON
Well, that was fucking something.
Emily dusts herself off.
EMILY
You can say that again.
They're suddenly staring into each other's eyes for a brief second. Mr. Cannery clears his throat, catching their attention as they look his way.
AARON
Well, we should probably get back to work.
Emily nods, grabbing the broom from the floor and walking over to the other side of the room, nowhere near the mystery boy.
INT. HOUSE - DAY
Emily grabs a glad bag and starts with the corner of the kitchen. She tosses whatever junk she can in the bag, starting with many step-dad's useless bills.
EMILY
Need it, don't, don't, need it, don't—
She clears a countertop in minutes, but as she finishes one, the front door creaks open, and she dives into the kitchen drawer to grab a spatula for safety precautions. Ms. Hart unexpectedly walks into the kitchen.
EMILY
Mom. I thought you had work?
Emily drops the spatula.
MS. HART
I thought so too, but there weren't many patients today, so they let me go.
Emily sighs in relief as her eyebrows curl and dives back into the mess, not before picking up the spatula again and throwing it in the sink.
MS. HART
Principal Davis called, and he told me about your little lunch fight.
That man never turns down any reason to call Emily's mom.
EMILY
Ugh, it wasn't my fault, mom, but he never listens to me.
MS. HART
Is something else happening that I should be worried about?
EMILY
Yes... I mean, no, mom. It doesn't matter.
MS. HART
Of course, it matters, Emily. I care a lot about you and what happens to you.
EMILY
Oh.
Emily glances at all the papers still in the kitchen.
EMILY
Look, Mom, we have many things to go through, so can we just finish that and be okay?
Ms. Hart doesn't argue. Instead, she goes straight to filing mode, which Emily hasn't seen in years. She flips through a stack of papers, setting them all to the side. Emily looks at her, saddened.
EMILY
We have to get him out of our lives. He was an abusive asshole and never deserved either of us. Why can't you just let him go?
Silence fills the air as they glance at one another. Ms. Hart sighs, opening her mouth to speak; however, she takes a moment to gather the right words.
MS. HART
I loved him, Miya, no matter what he did to this family, but if it bothers you, I will dump all of it. I knew he was abusive, and I'm sorry for even stressing about this. I don't know what has been holding me back.
Emily's mouth forms a perfect 'O, but she lays a sympathetic hand on her mom's shoulder. A single tear ran down Ms. Hart's cheek before her hands clutched the stack of papers, tossing them in the glad bag.
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Jeremy Arche was back at it again, blocking Emily's locker. She hasn't kept track of how many times he had done this, only for his sake. The backhanded bitch slap was coming soon, which meant he was in serious trouble. Emily quickly leaves her bitch slapping fantasies for another day as she approaches her locker.
JEREMY
Well, hello there.
Jeremy slides his hands down the door. Emily holds herself back and muses the guy for a moment.
EMILY
Jeremy.
Emily grabs his hand from the small little door. His hand slips from her locker, and he fakes a yawn.
JEREMY
Oh, my dear, Emily. People usually have to ask to touch me; however, I'll make an exception for you.
EMILY
You're disgusting, Jeremy.
She wedges in between him, but his swift, man-fingers slide in between her fingertips as she reaches for her lock.
JEREMY
Not so fast, punky.
He covers the lock with his enormous left hand.
EMILY
What did you call me?
Leaning against the locker, she bows her head and prays to the Norse gods; she won't attack. Jeremy's eyes light up. He slips his right hand against her shoulder. She shivers, taking a step back.
JEREMY
Before you open your locker, I want you to do something for me.
EMILY
Shit.
JEREMY
Oh, Emily, it will be fun.
His hand leaves her lock as he sweeps his gentle fingers through her dark hair. She can smell his morning breath, and it's not pretty.
EMILY
Jeremy, brush your damn teeth.
She catches Jeremy off guard. He grimaces, pulling back. EMILY grins, grabbing her lock before he can, and goes through the combination so he can't figure it out on his own.
JEREMY
My precious Emily. Don't fuck with me like that again.
Jeremy wanders off. Emily reaches into her locker, grabbing whatever she needs right as the bell rings. Her locker door slams shut. Emily walks off, forgetting to lock her locker.
Mr. Davis stands at the other end of the hallway, glancing at Emily like a hawk, scoping out his next victim, except she was that victim. Emily attempts a disappearing Houdini act in the girls' restroom, but Aaron appears behind her.
AARON
Hey, Emily.
Emily turns around to face him, and his amazing hot minty breath tangoing with his chapped lips and brushes over hers. With confidence, she pulls back with her hands against his chiseled chest as she stumbles over her shoes, collapsing in his arms. He lifts her, cradling her bridal style. They're halfway in the bathroom and halfway out, and his pretty, soft, dark ocean blue eyes glance down at her.
She doesn't dare lookup. It's a death wish. A few brief words to describe what just happened at that moment would have been 'awkward' and 'kind of hot.' Emily's heart in her chest thumps hard.
EMILY
Fuck me, Chanson!
Aaron's eyes widen as she helps her to her feet, but gravity causes her to trip. His hands catch her again as she works out the balancing act like she's trying to learn to walk for the first time. He nervously licks his teeth, still gripping her awkwardly.
AARON
What?
Emily goes over multiple scenarios to escape that moment, but she has nothing. However, she gets lucky because Mr. Davis jumps into the conversation, and Aaron drops Emily to the floor.
EMILY
Mother, fucker.
Emily pulls herself to her feet as she rubs the same lump that forms on her head. Aaron's blue eyes dilate, and he clears; he weaves his fresh hands with hers. She is reluctant to pull her hand away from him, but it never happens.
MR. DAVIS
Is everything alright, Mr. Chanson?
AARON
No, I just needed to talk to her about something.
MR. DAVIS
Good, I need to speak with her about something.
With a plump lip and his arms wrapped against his chest, both Aaron and Emily say nothing as they follow Mr. Davis to his office.
MR. DAVIS
Mr. Chanson, you aren't needed in this conversation, but if you care to join, I suppose you know what happened in the Cafeteria.
Aaron shrugs his shoulders, plopping down in the seat beside Emily.
MR. DAVIS
Ms. Emily Hart, as you know, you are late to class, as always.
He mutters the last part under his breath as he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose.
MR. DAVIS
However, that does not concern me at the moment. What affects me is your lack of expression of the truth. Still, many students attending Payton high were witnesses to what they left in the cafeteria the other day, including Aaron. As much as I don't want to believe it, the only reason I have brought you here is that you were not entirely responsible for the cafeteria disaster. Emily's jaw drops, and she glances at Aaron. His lips tug, and a grin forms.
Mr. Davis: Although you are only partially guilty, I'm placing you with the book club until I see fit.
EMILY
What?
Aaron seems very uncomfortable, adjusting himself in his seat, but he clears his throat with sudden confidence.
AARON
I think that would be a good opportunity for you, Emily. Think about it.
Emily rises from her chair with a burst of adrenaline-pumping her veined fists, but she holds it in well.
EMILY
What? Are you my dad?
AARON
No.
Emily sighs.
EMILY
I'll do it.
With that, she excuses herself and walks off.
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Emily digs through her locker, frustration boiling inside her.
EMILY
Shit.
Passerby glanced her way. She stares at her open locker.
BRENNAN
Emily...
Emily spins around as a fiery breath lingers in the air.
BRENNAN
Ready for round two?
Brennan stands there, holding a pile of Emily's books between his thick hands as a smirk curls his cheeks.
Emily is undoubtedly not kissing him again if he wishes, but if it is a game he wants, she is ready to confer his every command.
EMILY
Are those my books?
He lowers them to eye level.
BRENNAN
Yes, they are.
He muses her with a grin. His shimmery blue eyes glisten in the hallway lights as he glares down at her from a few inches above. Emily's hands do a swift swipe for her books just as his hands pull away, and her eyes widen.
EMILY
Brennan Ethanol Wright!
Emily tugs on his shirt. Her hands drag against his muscled chest and reappear against his breastbone.
EMILY
If you don't return those books to me right now...
(She grabs his shirt in
her tiny hands.)
...you will not like what comes next.
His grin lightens, and he muses her some more, lowering the books to her hands, but then pulls them up out of her reach once more—Emily claws at him.
BRENNAN
Feisty.
She grips his lower pants.
EMILY
One wrong move, and you're going to feel pain like no other.
BRENNAN
Try me, sweetheart.
He holds the books higher above my head. He thinks she's kidding. Emily grips low at his long baby maker, twisting and pulling. The makers of bop it would be pleased. With no warning, his hands give in, and he reaches low. Emily's books rain down from his fingers.
BRENNAN
What the fuck, bitch?
EMILY
Now, where's my lock? I will do it again.
He pleads out, forming a barrier around his nuts, producing tears in the corners of his eyes.
BRENNAN
I'm not speaking.
EMILY
Oh, I'm sorry. I think you just made twins.
Emily reaches out, but his hands swat her away. There's a small crowd forming, and both turn blood orange.
BRENNAN
Fuck you, bitch.
Emily reaches out again.
EMILY
I will do it!
BRENNAN
It's in my backpack.
A small smirk grows on her lips as she walks toward his back and tugs on his straps.
BRENNAN
Front pocket.
She grins, reaching in, pulling her broken lockout.
EMILY
That would be all.
Emily collects her books from the ground.
EMILY
see nurse, Marybelle.
Emily stuffs the last book in her bag and walks off.
INT. BOOK CLUB CLOSET - DAY
Unlike most times, where Emily snaps at the nerds for even mentioning book club, she's stuffed in the sweltering closet that she is sure used to be Mr. Cannery's old janitor's closet, tapping her feet against the shiny polished floor.
One rule cool people follow is avoiding the nerds at all costs, yet she's sitting right in their pit, shaking like a scared deer, while their four eyes stared deep into her soul.
SEBASTIAN SEAN or SEBA, a thirteen-year-old nerd with a squeaky voice, fills the room as he smashes his red-rimmed nerd glasses against his messy hair and chokes on air.
SEBA
Emily, you haven't even looked at your pages. Can you read it?
Emily moans, swooping in circles in her swivel chair, averting his menacing demands as she glances up at the ceiling. One hour, she tells me. Just one hour.
NICK GRAPHNER snaps at her with his calloused fingers. His pus-filled boils blur her sight as she caught herself starting from her seat.
EMILY
What-the-fuck do you want, Nick?
Emily rocks on her toes as the three boys lock eyes with her and wet their slippery lips.
CALVIN BENJAMIN slides his tongue against the shiny metal brackets, pulling at the wired headset he wears as his lips smack against his gums.
CALVIN
Cursing is not allowed in this community.
EMILY
Who are you to tell me what's allowed?
Sebastian coughs, attempting to clear his throat as his squeaking voice returns.
SEBA
We can always tell Mr. Davis. We are officially in charge of examining your behavior. Whatever you do in this group, we're advised to report it.
EMILY
Well, I should bounce. I came and saw it. See you, boys. You are so annoying. Tootles.
Emily walks off and slams the door. She makes it halfway down the hallway with her bag but can't find her keys.
She marches back through the door again. All three boys have significant grins plastered on their faces.
EMILY
Excuse me, where are my keys. (The boys huddle together. Emily holds out her hand) I'd like them now.
SEBA
Hold on. Do you honestly think we have them?
He coughs.
EMILY
Yep, now hand them over.
The boys chuckle. Nick raises his eyebrows.
NICK
Fine, we have them, but you have to do something first.
He closes his hand, and they appear when he opens his palm. Emily reaches for her keys, but Nick stops her with his firm hand.
NICK
Um, no. Abra-ca-kiss me.
He closes his palm again, and her keys disappear once more. She's pissed.
EMILY
Abra-ca-fuck, you guys. I'll find my way home.
Nick clears his throat. Emily reaches the door, and the keys reappear in his hand.
NICK
You could...
(he pauses for dramatic
effect)
Kiss me on the cheek?
Emily's eyes lock on him now, but he could think again if he thought her mouth was touching those disgusting pus-filled cheeks. But then also-
EMILY
I thought you guys were supposed to be nerds.
Emily pulls towards them.
CALVIN
Yes, but we have our secrets.
They clear a seat for Emily. She slams her bag to the floor, sitting between the pus boy and a brace face.
NICK
All you have to do is kiss me on the cheek. That's all, babe.
Emily breathes in and leans in tighter, searching for a portion of Nick's face not filled with raw boils. His head swivels toward her, and his slimy lips press against hers instantly. She tries to pull away just as his amazingly muscled arm wraps around the back of her head. She chokes on his spit. His lips pull open and closed like a fish. He's sucking her soul from her body while his idiot friends watch. His tongue brushes the roof of her mouth and cleans her lips. Within what feels like five torturous minutes, she gasps for air. Childish laughter rumbles from Nick's chest as he wipes his lips.
CALVIN
Five minutes and fifteen seconds. That's a world record.
Calvin cheekily laughs. Emily wipes the leftover spit from her lips and takes a moment to herself.
EMILY
You disgusting pig.
NICK
I knew you liked it. Here are your keys. We can make out in your car if you want-
Nick's sweaty palm opens, clutching her keys as she snatches them away. There is no way she's doing that again. She swats him as she does a fast pace to the door.
NICK
I'm sorry.
Emily slams the door shut, making her way toward the parking lot.
EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY
Emily's eyes fluttered open, swimming in a sea of colors, then adjusting to the light.
AARON
Emily!
Mr. Harriman and Aaron lean over Emily in the parking lot.
EMILY
Am I dead?
She stares up at the two of them. Aaron laughs.
AARON
No, you just got rear-ended by you know who while walking to your car.
Aaron extends his hand and pulls her up.
MR. HARRIMAN
Are you sure you're okay, Ms. Hart?
Emily wipes dirt and debris from her shirt.
EMILY
Yes, I'm fine.
She grabs her backpack from the floor and walks off. Aaron follows her.
AARON
At least let me drive.
EMILY
I don't need you to baby me.
Emily flips her backpack in front and searches for her keys, realizing they're not there.
EMILY
Where are the—
Aaron dives into the left pocket of his hoodie and pulls out her keys.
AARON
Looking for these? Cece just hit you with a car, Emily.
He pulls them away.
EMILY
Aaron, give them to me.
It becomes a game. Aaron pulls the keys away, passing them from one hand to another.
EMILY
This is not fair. It's not your car.
Aaron stares deep into her eyes, holding the keys high.
EMILY
Fine, you win.
Aaron walks over to Cher's driver's side door and slides in. Emily slides in opposite him. He kindly inserts the key, and Cher's engine rumbles. They pull out of the parking lot silently. Occasionally, Aaron looks over at her to make sure she is okay, mustering up the courage to speak.
AARON
So, prom's coming in a few days. Has anyone asked you yet?
Emily dodges his question.
EMILY
Hey, how are you getting home after dropping me and my car off.
Aaron winks.
AARON
I texted my dad already.
EMILY
You're an ass, you know that, right?
She pokes him in the bicep. He smirks.
AARON
But you know you like it.
Emily rolls her eyes and looks away.
EMILY
Yeah, sure.
Aaron pulls up next to her house and shuts off the engine. Emily recoils back in her seat, watching him lean over, unlatching the door for her. The two of them exit the car with their bags.
EMILY
You know I can do that myself?
He laughs.
AARON
Yeah, but I wanted to do it—So—you sure you're okay?
He shifts awkwardly on the balls of his feet outside the car.
EMILY
Can I have my keys, please?
He pulls the keys from his hoodie.
AARON
I just don't want to find out you've crashed because you have a concussion.
Emily stares at him.
EMILY
You're not my dad.
He scoffs.
They're interrupted momentarily as the front door unlatches from inside the house open. Emily's mom stares at both of them.
MS. HART
Well, hello. Who is this, Emily?
EMILY
A friend.
A cocky smirk forms on Aaron's lips. Emily whacks him, and his grin weakens.
MS. HART
Don't hit him.
Aaron holds back laughter.
EMILY
I'm sorry, mom.
MS. HART
Don't tell me. Tell him.
She holds her hip.
EMILY
(Turning to Aaron)
I'm sorry for hitting you, Aaron.
AARON
All is well.
A Mercedes pulls up in front of our house and rudely honks its horn.
AARON
Got to go. That's my step-dad.
Aaron grins, walking towards the car.
AARON
I guess I'll see you at school?
EMILY
Yep.
He waves goodbye, and the car pulls away with him inside. Emily grimaces.
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Aaron poorly scribbles his name on the board prom sign-up sheet. Over to the left, Emily finds Cece and the jock boys taping her face all over the school lockers. It was one of her dorky seventh-grade photos. The one was hanging in her house.
The nerdy seventh-grade photograph she swore until at least the day the bitch of Payton high got ahold of it would never leave my house, yet, somehow, her face slips out of Cece's tiny, porcelain fingertips and into the hands of every student at the school as laughter rumbled through the air.
EMILY
Okay, Cece—
Emily pushes past the faux bodyguard boys as she slaps her page on Cece's face.
EMILY
What-Is-Your-Problem?
CECE
Problem? What kind of problem? I see no problem with this. I see a problem with your thick, boil- filled face in this photo.
Cece's hands balance the large stack of Emily's face as she points out the flaws.
CECE
It looks like you still have a few, too.
Emily gasps, sucking in air through her teeth as Jeremy pushes her to the front.
JEREMY
Hey, Emily, you were practically begging to kiss Nick.
Jeremy and Brennan pucker their lips.
BRENNAN
Did he taste good?
Emily takes a better look at the page in her hand. It reads, and she quotes:"Vote Emily Hart for Prom Queen. She enjoys kissing nerdy boys for pleasure."
A fake lip print replaces Emily's big lips and her fat, overly tanned, boil-filled face, hideously photoshopped with a crown on top of her oversized head. She is mad.
EMILY
Brennan, you know we've kissed, right?
Brennan ridicules himself, playing things fresh, as he hands out another page to someone walking by. The boy sniggers and Emily brushes it off.
EMILY
Second, I do not know how you got my seventh-grade photo, but shit just got real.
Cece and the boys chuckle as she steps forward.
CECE
Have you ever heard about the internet, Emily? It works miracles when you need something like this.
Cece shows Emily her photo in her google search and breaks into laughter again.
Emily's lips pout as she adjusts her bag on her shoulder, pushing past Jeremy. Emily is angry, and she knows who is responsible. She stands near Emily with her goons, but instead of shouting at her further, Emily goes for Aaron, standing in front of her photo, pouting.
EMILY
This is your fault too.
Aaron jumps. Everyone in the hallway coils their heads again. Cece, being Cece, trots over towards them with a smile stuccoed on her face.
CECE
Dorkis did nothing. It was all my idea.
Cece laughs, her eyes craned at Aaron.
EMILY
I can't believe you. Everything is just a big joke.
Aaron pulls off the lockers, walking off, grabbing his books as he leaves. Emily knows she messed up big time. Everything had gone to shit, and it was her fault. Everyone stares at Emily, watching her. A single tear runs down Emily's ace.
She walks off to her locker, trying to avoid everyone's gaze, but she makes the stupid mistake of staring into the eyes of her schoolmates. There's an awkward silence in the hallway as they each exchange looks.
CECE
Emily fucking Hart, who will vote for you now?
Cece laughs again.
Mr. Harriman appears from beyond the men's restroom, taking Emily's dorky photograph.
CECE
(CONT'D)
(To Mr. Harriman)
Why is Emily still in the polls? No one is even going to vote for her after this.
Emily flips the bird in Cece's direction. Cece rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue.
MR. HARRIMAN
I saw that, Emily. Any more nonsense, and I will have you pulled from the polls.
Emily couldn't believe it. She doesn't see him lift his head from the concrete floor. How does he know?
MR. HARRIMAN
You know I see everything.
It's as if he read her mind. Emily ignores everyone, pushing her way through the hallway, off to class, watching Jeremy and Brennan cross-eye her. Emily picks up her pace. Cece trails behind her, half smirking. Emily wants so badly to slap that smirk off Cece's smug face. Cece does too.
CECE
Emily, why are you going so fast? Did you kiss a nerd?
Emily keeps going. Why does it have to be Cece?
CECE
Emily, where are you going to?
Emily halts in the hallway next to Mr. Davis's office.
EMILY
Would you just give the horrible bitch act a rest? I'm tired of you picking on me, Cece.
Emily keeps walking. Cece fakes a yawn.
CECE
You don't honestly think I give a shit, do you? You're the one who torments everyone, from what I understand.
Emily snorts.
EMILY
You don't pay attention, do you?
Cece fakes another yawn, patting her mouth with her fingers.
CECE
I just see what I want to.
Emily rolls her eyes. She makes her way into the classroom just as the first-period bell rings. She finds Aaron sitting in his seat, scribbling something in pen on his desk. Emily stands in the doorway, peering in.
EMILY
Aaron!
His eyes widen as his head shoots up.
AARON
Emily, I'm sorry—
Emily stops him.
EMILY
(Interrupting Aaron)
It wasn't your fault. It was the bitch of pride rock.
He laughs.
AARON
Good try. That was horrible.
EMILY
What about Buzz-light-bitch?
AARON
Nope.
AARON
What about tinker-bitch?
He laughs again.
AARON
That's better.
EMILY
So, about earlier. I am sorry?
It comes out more like a question. Aaron stares up at Emily. She expects his answer.
AARON
You want to go to prom with me?
Emily walks into the room.
EMILY
Well, I'll have to think about that?
The fact was, Emily wanted to ask him out first, but she held back out of fear.
He frowns.
AARON
I'll take that.
Emily takes the seat next to him and lays her head on her desk. Luckily, the day didn't get worse.
INT. HOME - DAY
Emily tiptoes down the stairs slowly. She pauses at the bottom of the stairs. Creaking her head to see who it is, a quick gasp escapes, and her lips fight into a smile.
EMILY
(Whispering)
Aaron?
Her eyes fade as she stares at the guy at the door. Ms. Hart pulls open the glass door and walks off. Aaron walks in.
EMILY
Hey, Aaron.
Emily exhales through the first word and turns to face him. His ocean eyes glisten in the bright lights shining from the sun's reflection pushing through the glass door.
Emily's breath catches in her throat as he walks closer. She wobbles backward up the steps.
EMILY
What are you doing here?
A tiny hiccup echoes off the foyer walls, and Emily pushes her hands against her lips.
AARON
I-I just thought I would come to say hi? Maybe help you make a plan for the Halloween dance and prom queen.
EMILY
I want nothing to do with becoming the prom queen, Aaron.
Emily runs the rest of the way up the stairs.
AARON
Emily—
She stops at the top step and turns on her toes again.
AARON
Don't avoid me. I want to help you with everything. I know you want to beat 'She who shall not be named' thick ass tomorrow—And before you say anything, yes, I've looked—
EMILY
Oh. Nice Harry Potter reference.
Emily's lips pout, and she glances at his shirt, picturing his carved stomach. She's only seen it once when he removed his hoodie for her.
EMILY
Are you coming, dorkis?
He grunted aloud before running after her into her room. Emily slams her door shut, and Aaron's shoes drop against my wooden floor. He falls back against her pillows. A hint of a grin breaks along his smile line. His bright white teeth chew on his lips as he examines his perimeters.
AARON
So—
His lips stretched wider.
AARON
You kissed Nick Graphner?
EMILY
Well, it wasn't like I was trying; he just kissed me out of the blue, and it was like kissing a dead fillet with a mouth and tongue.
AARON
It could have been worse. I mean, what if it were me?
EMILY
You think you're that bad of a kisser—Weren't you the boy who kissed Jaxton?
AARON
Yeah.
His long smirk turns into a tiny grimace.
AARON
Technically, it was a bet.
EMILY
You still kissed him.
AARON
Yeah, I did. Don't rub it in my face. The dude came out gay, anyway.
Aaron blushes. Stretching his arms above his head, he licks his lips, and their eyebrows furrow.
EMILY
How did you keep this information, anyway?
Aaron's head snaps up from the pillows, and he adjusts himself to his stomach at the end of the bed.
AARON
Nick told me, and it's the only thing the entire school is talking about besides your picture.
EMILY
It didn't exactly happen like that. He took my keys, and I was only supposed to kiss him on the cheek.
Aaron chuckles, swinging his feet opposite from one another while Emily kicks off her sneakers and sits in the medium- size, pink desk chair in the corner.
AARON
I'm surprised you even kissed him. This version of Emily would never do something like that, don't you think?
EMILY
I think you don't know me too well.
Aaron's eyebrows shoot up, just as Emily does. They stare at one another as if one of them is a wolf trying to gain dominance over a human. Emily slowly looks away from his crystal eyes, allowing him to gain power this time. A grin forms in the creases of his lips.
AARON
So, what costume are you wearing for the dance?
A small smirk manifested on Emily's lips. She twirls in her desk chair.
EMILY
I'm going as me. Costumes are for losers, cosplay junkies, and nerds.
AARON
Emily, you're sort of a nerd.
Emily snorts.
EMILY
What gave you that idea?
AARON
Well, for starters—
He pulls himself off the bed.
AARON
Bad girls do not snort like you. Second, normal girls don't have a nerdy yearbook photo of themselves hanging on their walls. Yes, I noticed it.
EMILY
You're quite the Sherlock.
Emily pulls herself to her feet.
AARON
Last, bad girls don't kiss dorks.
Suddenly Aaron is in front of Emily, brushing his buttery soft hands against her chin. His bright eyes glance into her, and he hunches over her; his other hand drags softly through her hair.
EMILY
What are you doing, Aaron?
They swap breath. Emily is suddenly breathing dorkis' air before her lips crash into a buttery soft pink pair of feathered lips.
Her eyes widen, and she falls deeper into his kiss. Her hips sway with him, and her world suddenly blurs. It's as if Emily's on earth one moment, and in another, she's sprouting wings, and the heavens flood open. Her mouth reciprocates with his as his hands trace her spine, making her shiver. Their tongues dance with each other. Her hands rub soft against his abs, and they collapse against the bed. Their mouth exchange is suddenly over as soon as Ms. Hart clears her throat from the doorway. They tumble off one another.
AARON
Hey, Mrs. Hart?
Aaron shyly rubs the back of his neck as his other hand awkwardly waves. Emily mentally and physically facepalms the beds, observing his back straighten out. Her eyes roll in, and she pulls away from Doris Chanson, avoiding her mother's gaze.
MS. HART
I should have known what you were doing with a boy in our house. Do I need to go over the birds and bees talk with both of you—
EMILY
(Interrupting her mother)
No, mom. Also, gross.
Aaron blushes, sitting up, puffed but shy.
AARON
So, I guess I'll see you in school tomorrow?
He shyly winks at Emily.
EMILY
Dear God, yes.
Aaron walks off towards the doorway, winking at Emily again, and he walks out.
INT. EMILY'S ROOM - DAY
The light tapping of rocks hits Emily's window and brings her out of a deep slumber. She rubs her tired eyes as the tapping proceeds. She slaps her feet against the floor and glances at her clock before her hips sway to the window. She would've been okay with it if it was a Friday, but it was twelve- thirty on a Saturday and the day of the Halloween dance.
Emily yanks open the crusted casement as another rock flies from the ground and hits her in the temple, but she catches her balance and looks below.
EMILY
Aaron, it's just after midnight. Can I sleep without you disturbing my slumber?
AARON
I wanted to check on you, Emily.
EMILY
At twelve-thirty in the morning?
AARON
Can you just come down?
He groans. The street lights make his blue eyes glow.
Emily slams the window shut.
EMILY
Five minutes.
Emily walks down the staircase. The door creaks open, and an exhausted Aaron in pajama pants and a bare chest stands in my doorway. His sculpted abs distract Emily for a moment, and she blinks a few times to make sure it's all real.
EMILY (V.O.)
Yep, Aaron is half-naked and standing at my door.
EMILY
I'm peachy, Aaron. Why are you not wearing a shirt?
Aaron chews on his chapped lips and readjusts his hand on the doorframe.
AARON
Why are you in a bra and shorts?
EMILY
You tell me.
AARON
Emily, I don't see what I did wrong?
His blue eyes squint.
EMILY
Let's see. You come to my house, half-naked, and wake me up by throwing rocks at my window at midnight?
Emily watches him exhale.
AARON
(Huffing in the cold)
Emily, I, uh—
Suddenly, he glances into her eyes. He contemplates his next words.
AARON
I love you, Emily Hart.
He sucks in the air and holds his breath. His cheeks puff as he waits for Emily to make a noise, but she's speechless.
AARON
I couldn't sleep, and I couldn't stop thinking of you, so I snuck out and drove here-
He points to the jaguar in Emily's driveway.
AARON
Do you want to come over to my place?
Emily stares at Aaron's abs. That's the best she can do besides tell him she loves him. She moves from the doorway and wanders out, partially closing the foot behind her.
EMILY
Wait! My robe.
Emily runs back into the house, followed by Aaron.
TIME CUT:
INT. AARON'S HOUSE - DAY
Mr. Chanson is surprised to find a half-naked Aaron sporting one of Emily's bathrobes while eating some scrambled eggs he whips up from the fridge that morning. He smiles, pushing a plate of eggs just for his dad in the bare spot on the table.
AARON
Good morning, Dad. Emily and I made you some breakfast.
MR. CHANSON
What the fuck, Aaron?
EMILY
Good morning, Mr. Chanson.
Emily shows off a pair of jeans, a regular white t-shirt, and a leather jacket and smiles.
MR. CHANSON
Right.
Aarons, four brothers, enter the room. His youngest brother, Jack, grins, slipping in beside Aaron, blank-faced. Emily puts on another one of her best charming smiles and waves awkwardly.
AARON
Dad, this is Emily.
Aaron introduces her with a slight gesture of his hand. His dad bears no expression/ Aaron takes Emily's hand and tugs her forward, leading her through his large mountainous house, beautiful white walls, and a gigantic fan in the living room.
On his wall hangs pictures of a family similar to hers. Instead of a father, it's the mother who's gone, smiling faces and a dorky picture of Aaron sitting in a picture frame five steps high. He leads Emily up his long staircase to his bedroom down the hallway.
AARON
Ta-da.
He swipes his hand through the air, showing his room covered in comic books and action figures.
AARON
Do you like my room?
Emily snorts.
EMILY
You are a nerd.
AARON
Call me what you want, but I prefer superhero extraordinaire.
She chuckles.
AARON
Now that you know my secret, tell me something else about Emily Hart?
EMILY
Like what?
Emily plops down on a large desk chair.
AARON
Like, why did Emily Hart become the bad girl?
Emily sighs.
EMILY
It's a long story.
AARON
Is it, or do you just not want to tell me?
EMILY
Both?
She thought she knew for a while.
EMILY
I don't know. All I know is that I hate the new me. I want to be my old self again.
Emily pouts. Aaron comforts her.
EMILY
Are you going like that?
She addresses his half-naked frame in his bedroom mirror.
AARON
Nope. It'll be a surprise. Just be patient.
He smiles wide and walks off to his bedroom closet. He digs around until he pulls out the perfect pair of suspenders and a cape.
AARON
Can you guess what I am?
EMILY
An even more giant nerd?
AARON
Close.
He smiles, walking off, disappearing from his room.
TIME CUT:
AARON
Ta-da.
Aaron croaks his best impression of a nerd going through puberty. He stands in the mirror, gazing at his outfit. However, Emily catches him every so often, glancing at her. His eyes dim as he parts from his mirror and grins.
Aaron: You're the first girl I know that has ever gone to prom in a pair of jeans, a regular tee, and a leather jacket.
Aaron turns in his preppy nerd outfit. He was no longer a teenage dorkis. Instead, he wears high tops with high socks, short khakis, elastic suspenders, a star wars t-shirt, with a long red cape. Let's not forget the thick glasses and an awkward overcome. He has officially upgraded to Super-nerd. But he still looks freakishly hot.
EMILY
I like your outfit, too?
Emily moans.
AARON
Can you experiment a little? It's a Halloween dance.
EMILY
Nope. I'm going as I am. Always have and always will.
His hands dig into his pants, blowing warm air from his cheeks. Emily chuckles.
EMILY
Okay, super-nerd. You look beautiful. Are you ready to go?
Emily tugs at his suspenders. His opposite hand runs through his slick hair as he smiles.
AARON
Yeah.
Aaron's white striped teeth are even brighter that night. His blue eyes keep Emily hypnotized in his bedroom light.
EMILY
Whatever happens tonight, it doesn't matter. We either win, or we lose.
AARON
Yep. I'll race you to the bottom of my steps?
EMILY
You're on, geek boy.
Emily shoves him against his bed and races to the steps. She hits the ground. His hands wrap around her tightly in a bear hug as he tickles her sides. She giggles until she's out of breath.
EMILY
Wait. Where are the car keys?
His hand reaches in his khakis as he retrieves the shiny pair of keys.
AARON
Found them.
He chuckles. His hand raises above Emily's head as he dangles his keys.
AARON
(CONT'D)
(Deadpanning)
It's my dad's car, Emily.
EMILY
I'm sure your father won't mind me driving it just once?
She reaches to grab them. Aaron and Emily battle for his keys for five minutes until he finally gives in, huffing on lost air. They make it to his driveway. He yanks open the passenger side door. She slides in. His smooth hands rest on the steering wheel moments later as he slides the key into the wedge groove.
AARON
Are you ready?
EMILY
More than ready.
Aaron Chanson's hand rests on the knob setting on the middle console as he yanks back. They take off to the Halloween prom.
CUT TO:
INT. DANCE - DAY
A white carriage sits to the side as a photo op. White curtains hang from the gym ceiling with balloons tied anywhere the committee can find a place. The dirty gym room looks like a princess ballroom.
Jeremy and Brennan, dressed in identical red faux fur and devil horns, are standing over by the punch bowl, dumping alcohol, hoping no one notices.
Aaron and Emily stand on opposite sides of the room. They barely checked on one another but watched the students brave enough to dance. Either that or they're drunk. Mr. Cannery, dressed in bumble stripes and bobbing foam balls, is also on the dance floor, either too drunk to function or a fool. Emily chuckles, watching his attempt at the sprinkler dance. His left hand caresses his left ear while his right-hand fights with his foot.
The music dies out, and Clarisa taps the microphone. Everyone looks at her. It is time for either the worst night of Emily's life or a happy fairytale ending.
CLARISA
Hello, ladies and ghouls. Welcome to the 2010 Halloween dance. Can I get my prom queen and king candidates on the dance floor to join me on stage?
Her mic screeches as she pulls away. Emily approaches the steps to the stage. She looks over at Aaron, who looks just as nervous as she does, but Brennan and Jeremy couldn't look more chipper as Cece and Jennifer catwalk their way up the steps in similar catsuits, leaving Jessica behind. Samira follows in a retro-goth vampire costume.
CLARISA
Now that I have all my candidates, let us begin.
Clarisa's voice bounces off the gym walls as she speaks. She is cheering and loud, thumping rumble on the gymnasium floor as she calls up her first contender.
CLARISA
Okay, without further ado, let's get started. She likes to sing when she thinks no one is watching. She's a Capricorn, and she's available; here's Samira.
An ample light appears from above, shimmering down on Samira. Samira blushes as her hands rush to her mouth, and she runs off stage. Students chuckle and catcall.
CLARISA
Okay, guys. That's enough. You scared her.
Ceaseless laughter breaks the sound barrier of the gym, and then silence.
CLARISA
Our next female contestant is a fierce, sexy bitch with an attitude. Say hello to Cece Greenwood.
Cece shuffles towards the stage. Everyone hollers and screams. Emily rolls her eyes in disgust. Cece blows a kiss to the audience.
CLARISA
Okay, Kitty. Meow.
Clarisa barks.
CLARISA
Wuff. Okay, that's enough. Back in line.
Cece makes her way back to her spot, not without swaying her hips like a cat.
Clarisa: Ironically, she plans to go into veterinarian school for animals when she grows up; she likes long walks on the beach and warm hugs. She is Jennifer Ramone.
Jennifer whips her long, braided ponytail in circles as she staggers to the front. Brennan catcalls her along with a few others off stage. She turns on her heels, tripping as students gasp, but soon laughter replaces their silence.
CLARISA
It looks like someone had too much punch tonight.
The crowd chuckles.
CLARISA
Anyway, last but not least.
Emily gulps deep.
CLARISA
She's mean, lean, or used to be. Nerd is an overstatement for this young gal. She's... (beat) Emily Hart. We have something special for you-
Jennifer crawls her way back in line as the crowd faces a jumbotron on the opposite wall. An enlarged photo of Emily kissing Nick Graphner steadies in place over the punch bowl. Emily's cheeks blush bright red, and the crowd blows kisses in her direction. Aaron grabs the microphone in a sudden burst of adrenaline. His words are soft and mighty as the crowd calms and they turn back to the stage.
AARON
Everyone, why do we need to dwell on the past? Nobody is perfect in here, and in fact, we all have something we're hiding.
The crowd chuckles. A random girl in the crowd: Yeah, except a nerd alert. Emily's cheeks get redder.
AARON
Yeah, she may have been nerdy in her past and occasionally the mean girl, but she's changed.
Emily's blush turns into petty rage. She wants Aaron to leave the stage right then.
Clarisa pries the amplifier from Aaron's fingers. His cheeks redden as well, and the crowd laughed again. He panics.
CLARISA
Whew, that was a brilliant speech.
She wipes fake tears, bringing the mic closer to her lips.
CLARISA
That's cute, Aaron—Okay, ladies and gentlemen, we have now run out of time for the male portion of our introduction, so let's move on to our crowning.
The crowd cheers louder, and Aaron runs off stage, angered and disgusted with the students.
STUDENTS IN UNISON
Aaron and Emily sitting in a tree,
K. I. S. S. I. N. G.
Emily wants to run after him, but her feet are immobile at the moment.
CLARISA
Now, ladies and ghouls, let me hear you scream!
The noise of the crowd keeps reaching new heights as she goes on.
CLARISA
Ladies and ghouls, this year, were crowning our queen last. With no further information, are you ready for this year's prom king—Now, drum roll, please?
The whole school yells impossibly loud, and she holds the resonator to the crowd. The noise of the group kept reaching new heights as she went on.
The crowd hushes as the drummer in the background taps the cymbals. Clarisa doesn't waste time unraveling the scroll with the king's name. Instead, the paper slides through her fingers like butter, and she shouts aloud.
CLARISA
With a unanimous vote, Aaron Chanson is the brand new hottie!
The crowd cheers again and quickly hush.
CLARISA
It looks as though our king has left the ballroom now, so that I will hold on to his crown for him.
BRENNAN
I'll gladly take that for him.
Brennan quickly gets rejected.
CLARISA
No deal, dude.
Clarisa snatches the crown from his grimy fingers. We've saved the best for last. Clarisa grabs a scroll from a pillow off to the side.
CLARISA
Ladies and gentlemen. In my hands is the scroll to your next prom queen. Are you ready?
The crowd ripples the floor again, only to be silenced by Clarisa.
CLARISA
Now, ladies and gents, with another unanimous vote-
Cece crosses her fingers and steps forward.
CLARISA
It's—
Clarisa's voice dies.
CLARISA
(CONT'D)
(Monotone)
Cece Greenwood.
Cece snatches the megaphone. The crowd is quiet and confused for a moment, but as one of the old jocks chants Cece's name, the rest join. The group suddenly becomes quiet as Cece clears her throat.
CECE
I...
(Cece touches her chest) )
I am honored to be your prom queen. It was so random, and I am happy. I'd like to thank you all for helping me. I couldn't have done it with any of you—
Cece rambles on as the rest of the contestants leave the stage. Cece looks towards the gym's back, but Aaron seems to have gone. She walks out of the gym into the hallway, but a sudden fiery breath tickles her neck, and she spins around, suddenly bumping into a heavily drunk Jeremy.
JEREMY
(Slurring)
Y-you know...Cece rigged the ballots.
His alcoholic breath poisons Emily's nostrils. He moves in closer.
EMILY
What?
JEREMY
She rigged the ballots.
His nose brushes hers.
EMILY
What are you talking about, Jeremy?
Her hands push against his chest, but he doesn't move.
JEREMY
You were supposed to win the crown.
(Jeremy places his shaky
finger on Emily's lips)
You know everyone likes you, Emily.
His hands trickle down to her waist, and he slides his hands against her thigh, cornering her against the wall.
JEREMY
I like fat, nerdy girls.
EMILY
Jeremy, stop!
Emily pushes him, but his hands brutally squeeze her wrists as he moves closer.
JEREMY
Why don't you like me? You like Brennan. That's why you kissed him.
His lips brush Emily's. She begs for a miracle.
JEREMY
I want you to kiss me, Emily Hart.
Jeremy's head slopes to the side. Another young man blurs Emily's vision, and she tries to focus.
AARON
Leave her alone.
Suddenly her hero has arrived.
JEREMY
Go away, dork boy.
Jeremy tugs Emily in his arms. Aaron's eyebrows furrow. His hands curl into fists, and he huffs.
Aaron: I said, back off, or else.
Jeremy seems amused by Aaron's unexpected courage, but suddenly Emily's arms yank from Jeremy's outstretched hands, and her elbow hits his face, followed by a stomp of his foot and a knee in the balls. Aaron's eyes widen, and Jeremy bows to the floor, cross-eyed. Emily shimmies around him to get to Aaron.
EMILY
Got that one from the internet.
Aaron and Emily wander down the hall after a thrilled Cece, but her fairytale ending is about to rock like an earthquake. Emily taps her on the shoulder.
CECE
What do you want?
EMILY
I want you to tell them the truth. You didn't win that crown, but I did.
Cece's Cheshire grin sinks.
CECE
Is that what Jeremy told you? You should know he's a liar, sweetheart. If he told you he loves you, he did that for me.
Cece brings the crown down from her head. She twirls it in her hands and toys with Emily's patience.
CECE
Is this—
She holds out her slimy hands.
CECE
The crown you want? It's just plastic, but if you want it, you can have it.
She reaches out further but pulls back quickly as a piece of the crown snaps off.
CECE
Oops.
Emily's nose scrunches, keeping her cool, watching Cece pull off another piece. She sucks in a breath and lets it out, taking one last look at the crown.
EMILY
You know what, Cece. You're right. It is just a toy. You can have the crown.
With a sudden burst of confidence, Emily grins. She takes hold of Aaron's hand and walks off. Cecee trails behind.
CECE
Wait! It's not just a crown, Emily Hart. It's the whole reason I live. I'm the queen of this school. I live and breathe the queen. You and nobody else can take that away from me—
Aaron and Emily walk further along.
EMILY
(To Aaron)
Wanna dance?
AARON
It would be a pleasure.
Aaron smiles, squeezing Emily's hand tight, and they make their way back into the dance.
(Credits Roll)
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
MR. HARRIMAN
Mr. Harriman stomps out of the ballroom. Jeremy grins, wiping blood from his nose as he stands up.
MR. HARRIMAN
Cecelia Greenwood!
Mr. Harriman strolls halfway down the hallway. Cece smiles, though her smeared mascara tells a different story.
CECE
Aren't you going to congratulate me, Mr. Harriman?
Cece smiles brightly.
MR. HARRIMAN
No, and I believe the crown belongs to someone else.
CECE
Who?
Her bright eyes widen, and she tucks the crown pieces into her bra.
MR. HARRIMAN
It belongs to Ms. Emily Hart. Now hand it over.
Cece tucks the crown deeper into her breasts.
CECE
What crown?
She plays dumb.
MR. HARRIMAN
The one you're hiding in your dress. Now hand it over.
Cece digs through her dress to find missing crown pieces but smiles when she pulls out only a large portion.
CECE
It's broken, but she can have it.
Mr. Harriman groans, grabbing the chunks from her hand.
CECE
This is a joke, right?
She sniffs back tears.
CECE
She said I could have it.
Mr. Harriman ignores her and walks off back into the gym.
CUT TO:
INT. DANCE - NIGHT
The music pauses as students glance at the stage again. The mic howls and Clarisa stands at the front.
CLARISA
May I have everyone's attention?
Suddenly, the room is even quieter.
CLARISA
I've received word that one of our Payton high attendees rigged the ballot. This year's prom queen wasn't Cece.
The crowd mumbles to one another before Clarisa taps the mic again.
CLARISA
Our real prom queen is more like us than we thought, and if you're out there, Emily-
Emily stares at the students, glancing her way as a spotlight appears on her.
CLARISA
I hope you're listening. My deepest condolences for the mix-up and introduction we prepared for you earlier. May you join us on stage?
Emily's heart thumps to the stomping rhythm as she and Aaron approach the stage. Clarisa holds Aaron's crown in one hand while her other hands the pieces to Emily's.
CLARISA
All jokes aside, I believe these are yours.
Emily's eyes widen, and she takes the broken crown. Aaron's hand brushes her hair back, and he places his crown on Emily's head.
AARON
My queen.
They gaze at one another. Aaron lifts her chin, and her lips briefly press against his, melting with one another. Butterflies fill Emily's stomach as they sway to the music.
AARON
You know I was the one who placed your name on the ballot?
His hands slide in Emily's.
EMILY
I thought it was you.
Aaron chuckles.
AARON
Can I kiss you again?
He smiles; his hand caresses her cheek.
EMILY
Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you look incredibly hot as a nerd.
He laughs. Emily laughs too.
AARON
Is that a yes?
Emily tries not to smirk, but it just creeps up out of nowhere.
EMILY
Just do it already, dork boy—
His lips crash against hers again, and she closes her eyes, melting into him.
THE END.