SARA (16) sprints down a barren school hallway, uncontrolled and reckless in her movements. Her loose-fitting Catholic school uniform flails around as she runs, and her hair and makeup give off an air of quiet rebellion. She comes to an abrupt halt at a door, and she bursts into the room.
INT. OFFICE - MORNING
It's a small office, with trophies, medals, and pictures of athletes scattered around. Sitting behind a desk is COACH BROWN, an impatient, serious-looking middle-aged man. Sara stands in front of him, panting.
SARA (Frantically)
Coach, I am so sorry, it- my mom she had my car keys and-
She takes a few heavy breaths, her words moving faster than her lungs can carry, and she slowly sits down in a chair facing the desk.
SARA (CONT'D)
I'm so-
Coach Brown holds a hand up to stop her.
COACH BROWN
That's enough, Ms. Danes.
He turns to face a monitor on his desk.
COACH BROWN (CONT'D)
It says here you missed two weeks of P.E. in September. If that's the case, we can't offer you credit for the trimester.
SARA (Incensed)
Wha- I had pneumonia!
His eyes move to Sara.
COACH BROWN
Do you have proof?
SARA (Snarkily)
I lost ten pounds, is that not enough proof for you?
Coach Brown stares at Sara for a moment, his expression unchanging. He looks at his computer screen once again.
COACH BROWN
I'm afraid, , that you're going to Sara have to do a sport this semester if you want to graduate with the rest of your class.
Sara sighs, defeated.
SARA
Well, what sports can I do?
3 3 EXT. COMPETITION POOL - AFTERNOON
Five students dressed in swimsuits, swim caps, and goggles stand expectantly on diving blocks before a large, outdoor pool. Sara stands on the block furthest to the right with her arms crossed, fully-dressed in her school uniform. A SWIM COACH stands at the edge of the pool, a clipboard in his hand and a whistle around his neck.
SWIM COACH (Reprimanding) Sara, where's your suit?
Sara glares at him. The swim coach blows his whistle, and all of the swimmers dive into the pool, save Sara.
SWIM COACH
Nice and smooth, nice and smooth. Pick it up, Josh, let's get it going.
Sara lets herself fall in face-first a beat later.
4 4 EXT. SUBURBAN ROAD - DUSK
The sun has begun to set on a suburban street, a dull scenery surrounding Sara as she walks home from school, looking disgruntled, and a little damp. She approaches an intersection, and as she enters the road, her foot hits a ratty, red, high-top sneaker with doodles on the midsole on the ground. She stops walking upon the contact.
Just after she stalls, a sports car zooms by, just inches in
front of her, directly in her path. Sara stands still for a moment, startled, having been saved from imminent death by the sneaker. She looks down at the shoe on the road and picks it up. She continues walking, a new spring in her step.
5 5 INT. HOUSE - EVENING
Sara enters her house through the front door, and she heads to her room, walking with a purpose. The place is homey, if a little cluttered. Her MOM, a jaded-looking woman in her forties, stands at the kitchen counter reading a newspaper.
MOM (Without looking up) Did you stop for milk?
Sara stops and looks at her mom.
SARA
I would've if I didn't have to walk to school because took my keys to someone work.
Her mom sighs and glances up at her.
MOM (Coldly)
Eat something. You look sickly.
SARA
I had pneu-
She stops herself mid-sentence, huffing annoyedly. She shakes her head to herself as she resumes the walk to her bedroom.
6 6 INT. BEDROOM - EVENING
Sara enters her bedroom, and she tosses her backpack and the shoe she's been carrying on the floor by her door. It's relatively tidy, with the exception of a few loose pieces of clothing slung over her furniture.
She puts her phone on her nightstand and lays down on her bed, sighing tiredly and staring up at the ceiling. Her phone RINGS, and she sluggishly picks it up. She looks at the screen and sits up abruptly upon seeing that the call is from JOSH COLE.
Her thumb moves to answer it, but she pauses and looks across her room. She quickly darts across her floor and snatches up the shoe, holding it close to her chest. She answers the
phone, standing in the middle of her room.
SARA (Awkwardly)
Hey, What's goin' on? What's Josh. up... bro?
Sara silently admonishes herself for her social ineptitude and strange slang usage. She paces around her room, a smile growing on her face as her cheeks turn pink.
SARA
Yeah, I'm free on Friday. She continues to meander around her room.
SARA (Lightly giggling)
Yeah, okay, it's a date. Bye, Josh.
Sara hangs up, happy, and a little surprised to have landed a date with Josh, and she glances at the shoe in her arm. She clutches it a little tighter before gingerly placing it on her nightstand. She lays back down on her bed, a smile on her face.
Sara sits, slumped over her desk. She is lit by harsh, HUMMING, fluorescent light. The classroom is riddled with religious memorabilia and wall décor, and her TEACHER rambles on about some religion in the background.
Rather than taking notes, she scribbles various name combinations in her notebook: "Ms. Sara Cole", "Ms. Sara Danes-Cole", "Mr. Josh Danes-Cole", "Mr. Josh Danes". The red shoe lies on her desk next to her notebook.
TEACHER
Sara. . . Sara SARA
Sara looks up suddenly, confused and almost disoriented.
TEACHER
Care to share the answer with the class?
Sara, her mind having been elsewhere, has no clue what to say.
SARA
Uhhhh(Under her breath) Jesus...
Sara looks at the shoe, which points directly to a poster of Jesus Christ.
SARA (CONT'D) ... Jesus Christ. Jesus
Her teacher CLAPS his hands together.
TEACHER
Well done, Sara! You know what- on that note, let's end class a little early today. Have a blessed weekend everyone.
Sara mouths "thank you" to the shoe on her desk. Students CHATTER as they pack up to leave. A CLASSMATE at the desk beside Sara's turns to face her as she gathers her things.
CLASSMATE
Ready for the test next week?
Sara looks at her as she stands up, grabbing the shoe, a smirk on her face that says "I know something that you don't".
SARA
I'm not too worried about it.
8 8 EXT. COMPETITION POOL - AFTERNOON
Sara, along with five other swimmers, stand on the diving blocks of the pool, ready for their cue. They are all dressed in proper swim attire, including Sara this time. She is wearing the shoe, however. The swim coach blows his whistle, and Sara gracefully dives headfirst into the pool along with the other athletes.
9 9 INT. BEDROOM - DUSK
Sara has laid out six tops and five bottoms in rows across her bedroom floor. She sets down one last pair of pants before stepping back to face them all. She turns around and grabs the shoe off of her desk. She quickly peaks over her shoulder before blindly tossing the shoe behind her back.
It lands on a pair of pants. She turns around and picks both
10
the shoe and the jeans up off of the ground. She lays the jeans on her desk chair, and once again throws the shoe behind her.
INT. RESTAURANT - EVENING
Sara sits in a booth alone, lit by a dim overhead light. Groups of friends and couples fill the tables around her, atop a white tiled floor. Light music play over the CONVERSATIONS of the people in the establishment.
Sara is wearing the pants she picked out earlier with a nice top, and a boot on one foot and her red sneaker on the other. She anxiously taps her foot on the ground while looking out the window.
11
INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT
Sara sits at the same booth, still alone. An empty glass sits on the table. It's quieter in the diner- there are less people there. Sara holds her phone to her ear.
SARA (Into Phone)
Hey Josh, um, I don't know if you're getting my calls, but, uh, if you are call me back. I thought we were meeting an hour ago, but, um, maybe I had the time wrong. Just- call me back.
She looks and sounds incredibly lonely.
12 12 INT. RESTAURANT - LATE NIGHT
The restaurant is empty, and silent, except for the MUSIC in the background. Sara is still seated in the same booth, a certain melancholy in her posture and expression. Three empty glasses lay in front of her.
She turns her head tiredly, and looks down, sighing defeatedly. She lifts her feet to the seat and unties the laces to the red shoe, cringing at herself. She takes off the shoe, and begins to scoot out of the seat when she is interrupted. A young waiter, approaches her table.
GUY (Pointing at the shoe)
That's my shoe.
Sara rolls her eyes. He looks at her expectantly.
SARA
Yeah, well it's a piece of crap.
GUY (Joking)
Hey, I'm not the one wearing it.
Sara smiles at him, painfully sarcastically. The guy gestures at her booth.
GUY Can I sit?
Sara glances out the window, and looks back at him, sighing.
SARA
Fine.
He sits down.
SARA
Shouldn't you be waiting tables or something?
GUY
I'm off the clock. Besides, it's not every day you spot a thief in your section.
SARA
How do you know it's yours anyways?
GUY
You only have one, I only lost one, and it's at least four sizes too big for you.
SARA
Maybe that's just my style.
Their conversation falls out of earshot, but they eventually both smile and laugh, and Sara appears to be having a good time for the first time that night.