NICE OR BUST
Written by Jessica Van den Ancker
**** ***** Road **********, FL ***** ***-***-**** jessica@jessicavandenancker.com
INT. BOYS’ LOCKER ROOM - DAY Skimming across a top row of lockers, a hand stops at: “223.” TESSA SUTHERLAND, 16, unapproachable, boyish garb, athletic, hair tucked under a ball cap, peers right to left before climbing the wooden bench dividing opposing rows of lockers. Balancing on one hand, she strains to reach above the locker. Her hand searches; a mist of dust puffs. Grinning, she pulls something down. Dust rains. She sneezes, body jerking. A tiny black spy camera flies out of her hand. Shit!
TESSA
She pitches her body toward the toppling camera and loses her balance. Momentum carries her down. Her face catches the edge of the wooden bench and her NOSE CRACKS. Blood spurts. Her hand wraps around the camera just before it hits the speckled tile. Dazed, she scrambles to her feet and tucks the camera into her jeans pocket. INT. BOYS’ LOCKER ROOM - BATHROOM - DAY Tessa blows by the urinals and heads for the first of two stalls. She pushes the door open; flies buzzing around shitsmeared walls. Gagging, she scrambles into the next stall and yanks ribbons of toilet paper off the roll. INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY Tessa exits the locker room. Blood stains her shirt, bruises blossom under her eyes, and toilet paper hangs from each nostril. As she walks down the hallway, TWENTY STUDENTS, 15-17, mixed cliques, part way for her to pass. Most avert their eyes. STUDENT #9, 15, zit-infested, glasses, braces, eyeballs Tessa, who glares at him. Eyes wide with fear, he looks away. INT. TESSA’S HOUSE - DAY Rays of sunlight race Tessa through the front door. She rips the wadding from each nostril, then sloughs off her backpack, stowing it nearby.
2. BEN SUTHERLAND, 40s, dishevelled, heavy drinker, staggers out of the kitchen, beer in hand. He wears a SpyTech polo. Scowling, Ben motions for Tessa to follow. INT. TESSA’S HOUSE - LAUNDRY ROOM - DAY Ben points to a heap of soppy SpyTech polos and khaki pants. BEN George Washington pissed on my work clothes again. Take care of it. Tessa chucks the soiled clothes into the washing machine. She pauses, looking at Ben with a scowl. He looks past her, eyes vacant. She continues filling the washer. TESSA Maybe if you actually put your dirty clothes in the hamper they wouldn’t get peed on. She adds soap to the machine and closes the lid. GEORGE WASHINGTON, a hefty, orange-striped, white-booted tabby, jumps atop the washer and MEOWS. Tessa strokes his back. Ben glares at him. TESSA (CONT’D) Isn’t that right, GW? George Washington PURRS. Ben shakes his head and mumbles as he heads for the door. BEN That last Christmas, I wanted to get you an iPod Mini. But, no. Your mother had her heart set on that mangy little furball. Tears well in Tessa’s eyes. Lingering in the doorway, Ben peers back to Tessa. He finally notices her face. Stepping back to his daughter, he turns her chin to the light. BEN (CONT’D) What happened to you? He narrows his eyes and grits his teeth. BEN (CONT’D) Are you fighting again? Glaring, Tessa pulls away.
3. TESSA Yeah. The bench won. INT. TESSA’S HOUSE - BATHROOM - DAY Tessa removes the ball cap. A ponytail snakes down her back. She unties it. After combing her hair, she twists it into a bun, piling it onto her crown. She scrubs the dried blood from her face. Patting herself dry, she winces. She examines the bluish-purple bruising in the mirror and sighs heavily. INT. TESSA’S HOUSE - TESSA’S ROOM - DAY She sheds her blood-caked shirt and tosses it in the garbage. An antique locket hangs down over her bra. She yanks a fresh T-shirt from a chest of drawers. An easel supporting a half-painted canvas stands nearby. She joins George Washington on the bed. He PURRS as she scratches under his chin. She tugs on the T-shirt and fishes the locket out from under it. She pops the locket open to reveal a photo of herself, ten years old, and her mother. Tears well. TESSA Miss you, Mom. She pats George Washington before snapping the locket closed and tucking it beneath her T-shirt. After a sharp exhale, her face hardens. She launches herself off the bed and over to her computer. Seizing a USB cable with one hand, she plucks the camera from her pocket with the other. She drags the footage in reverse and pauses on a single frame. A wicked grin spreads from ear to ear. She giggles at the screen, where KIRK, 16, nerdy, spaghetti thin, stands naked, frozen while toweling his backside. Tessa’s head hides his junk. Gottcha.
TESSA (CONT’D)
With a few CLICKS, she launches her e-mail and enters Kirk’s name into the “to” line. A few more CLICKS. She hits “send.”
4. She picks up her phone and dials. It RINGS twice. TESSA (CONT’D) Check your e-mail lately, Kirk? SILENCE, followed by KEYBOARD CLACKING and a GASP. TESSA (CONT’D) How about we revisit you doing my algebra homework? INT. TESSA’S HOUSE - NIGHT Tessa sidles down the hallway toward the kitchen. She peeks into the living room. Her dad lies passed out on the couch. Empty beer bottles litter the coffee table and floor. INT. TESSA’S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT The FRIDGE opens with a SUCK. Empty racks. She grabs a milk carton from a door shelf. She turns, heading for the sink. The FRIDGE DOOR closes with a THUD and a JINGLE. She extracts a bowl and spoon from the dishwasher. Three cereal boxes rest on the counter. She lifts and shakes each box before settling on one. INT. TESSA’S HOUSE - TESSA’S ROOM - NIGHT Tessa approaches the easel. Bright blues, greens, and reds pop from the canvas, framing the outline of a sleeping cat. She snags a palette and squeezes tubes of orange, black, and white acrylic paints onto it. She nabs a brush, dabs it into the orange and moves it toward the canvas. INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY Twenty Students mill around in various directions. IRENE MARTIN, 16, bubbly, chubby, stylish, struggles down the hallway. She hefts a covered canvas, which hides her from the neck down. WHITNEY HANCOCK, 16, beautiful, expensive clothes, bitch to the core, approaches Irene from behind.
5. CARRIE, 16, and RACHEL, 16, dressed eerily like Whitney, follow Whitney to either side, forming a slight “V.” Irene stops to readjust the canvas. Whitney pauses in front of Irene. Carrie and Rachel nearly collide with Whitney. They both play it off, but gauge to see who’s watching. Clueless, Irene fusses with the canvas. WHITNEY Look girls... Whitney turns to Carrie and Rachel. Behind the three girls, Irene fiddles with the canvas. WHITNEY (CONT’D) The elephant carries its own sun shade. Irene freezes. Her pitiful face peeks above the canvas. Lips quivering, she turns puppy-dog eyes to Whitney. Whitney glances to Irene before turning back to her friends. WHITNEY (CONT’D) It’s a good thing, too. Because elephants have very sensitive skin. Carrie and Rachel cackle. INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY (MOMENTS LATER) Tessa, canvas in hand, snakes down the hallway. She hits a blind corner and nearly plows into Whitney. Carrie and Rachel clip Whitney from behind. Whitney huffs, glancing from Carrie to Rachel. Facing forward, her eyes narrow, settling on Tessa. WHITNEY Watch where you’re going, Mess. Carrie and Rachel look amused. Tessa scowls. TESSA Watch yourself, jerkface... And stop calling me Mess. Whitney scans Tessa up and down. Tessa’s bruising resembles blood sausage-colored eye black. Whitney shakes her head.
6. WHITNEY Tess the Mess, when will you learn? I’ll stop calling you Mess when you stop looking like one. Whitney looks pleased. The Whitney Clones chortle. Tessa rolls her eyes. Whatever.
TESSA
She pushes past the trio. INT. CLASSROOM - DAY TWENTY-FIVE STUDENTS, 16-17, artsy, rubberneck at Tessa as she enters. Canvases line the walls and rest atop easels. Tessa scans for an empty desk, then moves to a spot next to Irene in the back row. She eyeballs the large covered canvas, placing hers to its right. Tessa sheds her backpack and plops into the empty seat. Beaming, Irene turns to Tessa and extends a hand. IRENE Hi! I’m Irene. Tessa grunts. Irene’s smile wilts and her hand falls. The BELL RINGS. INT. CLASSROOM - HEAD OF CLASS - DAY MR. KAUFMANN, 48, wiry, thick-framed glasses, guayabera shirt, waves an imaginary wand as if conducting an orchestra. MR. KAUFMANN Students, students. The Students quiet. MR. KAUFMANN (CONT’D) Glad to see so many of you brought your acrylics in for review. Can’t wait to dive into them. He searches the room, stopping at the back row.
7. MR. KAUFMANN (CONT’D) But first I must introduce a new, talented student, who comes to us all the way from Bangor. Half the class looks perplexed, the other half disinterested. MR. KAUFMANN (CONT’D) ...a city in Maine, for those of you failing geography. A few heads nod. Mr. Kaufmann shakes his head. MR. KAUFMANN (CONT’D) Irene Martin, please come to the head of the class. Don’t be shy. INT. CLASSROOM - IRENE’S DESK - DAY Irene’s CHAIR SCREECHES. She scurries to the back wall and hoists her canvas from the floor. She lugs it to the front, knocking into desks all the way up, garnering dirty looks all around. MR. KAUFMANN (O.S.) Ms. Martin has won the prestigious Maine Congressional Art Award with her acrylic on canvas, entitled Happy. INT. CLASSROOM - HEAD OF CLASS - DAY Irene clears the first row. Mr. Kaufmann takes the canvas and unveils it. Reminiscent of Mary Cassatt, the painting depicts a loving mother cradling a sleeping baby. The ROOM BUZZES with approval. INT. CLASSROOM - TESSA’S DESK - DAY As Tessa takes in Irene’s painting, tears well. She looks away. INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY The BELL RINGS. Students pour into the hallway. Irene and Tessa exit last. Tessa stops Irene.
8. TESSA Your painting is amazing. Irene glows. Thanks!
IRENE
The two walk down the hall in silence. EXT. SCHOOL COURTYARD - DAY Side-by-side, Tessa and Irene enter the sunlight. Wind whips Tessa’s ponytail. They continue across the courtyard. Tessa pulls on a sweater. She looks constipated. IRENE It took me three months. What?
TESSA
IRENE The painting... it took me three months. A few yards away, JACOB MARTIN, 17, upstanding, tall, handsome, athletic, jogs toward Irene. JACOB Hey, Sis. Doin’ okay? Irene nods. Facing Jacob, she waves a hand toward Tessa. IRENE Jacob, this is... Irene looks to a speechless Tessa. Tessa, lost in Jacob’s face, watches the wind blow through his hair and notices his long eyelashes and full lips. Irene nudges a dreamy-eyed Tessa, who snaps out of it. Huh?
TESSA
Irene whispers, nodding toward Jacob. Tessa’s face reddens. Your name?
IRENE
9. Jacob extends his hand to Tessa. JACOB Hey. I’m Jacob. Perplexed, Tessa looks from Jacob’s face to his hand and back. She slaps his hand in an awkward high-five of sorts. Tessa.
TESSA
Irene and Jacob exchange looks. Irene shrugs. EXT. SCHOOL COURTYARD - DAY (MOMENTS LATER) Moving in opposite directions, Students bustle about. Across the courtyard, Kirk emerges through a wall of SIX JOCKS. JOCK #6, RYAN, 18, arrogant, brutish, knocks into Kirk. Books and papers fly. Trying to gather his schoolwork, Ryan bumps Kirk again. Kirk goes down. Papers scatter. The entire courtyard of Students gawks. RYAN What’s the matter, nerd? Brain so heavy you can’t stand up? Ryan moves closer. Kirk braces for another impact. Onlookers in the courtyard wait, frozen. Ryan reaches to push Kirk down, but Jacob blocks with a hand to Ryan’s forearm. Ryan’s eyes throw daggers at Jacob. Jacob’s grip tightens. The rest of the Jocks move forward. JACOB Leave him alone. Jacob’s jaw clenches, his eyes searing through Ryan’s. Ryan waves the other Jocks back. Glaring, he snatches back his arm. He backs away toward the other Jocks. RYAN This isn’t over. Ryan turns his back to Jacob, and the Jocks move across the courtyard.
10. Jacob shakes his head and turns to Kirk. You okay?
JACOB
KIRK Yeah. Thanks. Jacob offers Kirk a hand, and then helps collect debris. Jacob and Kirk walk toward Irene and Tessa. EXT. SCHOOL COURTYARD - DAY In the distance, Whitney stalks Jacob. She licks her lips. WHITNEY Who is that? CARRIE I think he’s new. He’s hot. He’s mine.
RACHEL WHITNEY
EXT. SCHOOL COURTYARD - DAY (MOMENTS LATER) As Jacob and Kirk approach, Tessa sees only Jacob. The boys reach the girls; Irene faces Kirk. IRENE That was scary. Are they always like that? Kirk steals a glance at Tessa before fishing through papers. KIRK Pretty much. Tessa’s eyes drink in Jacob’s form. Assholes!
JACOB
Exasperated, Jacob runs a hand through his hair. JACOB (CONT’D) I hate freaking bullies!
11. Tessa swallows hard. Glowering, Kirk shoves papers into Tessa’s hands. She finally realizes he exists. KIRK Here’s your algebra assignment, Tessa. Kirk storms off. Irene calls after him. Bye!
IRENE
Jacob scrutinizes Tessa. JACOB What happened to your face? She gulps again and looks away. INT. TESSA’S HOUSE - TESSA’S ROOM - NIGHT Tessa lounges on her bed. George Washington kneads her belly as she strokes his fur. She closes her eyes. DREAM - TESSA IN THE SCHOOL COURTYARD - DAY Tessa stands next to Irene. Irene idly chats, but Tessa drools as Jacob’s hair blows in the wind. Jacob rips off his shirt, exposing chiseled arms and abs. He leans down. His full lips close in on Tessa’s. END DREAM SEQUENCE INT. TESSA’S HOUSE - TESSA’S ROOM - NIGHT Tessa opens her eyes to George Washington licking her mouth, and Ben, beer in hand, looming over her. She jumps. GW bolts. BEN I got a call from the Principal today. Tessa feigns interest.
12. BEN (CONT’D) He says that, with the exception of art, you haven’t turned in any homework for a month. Her face hardens. TESSA That’s crap. I just turned in some algebra work today. Ben shakes his head. BEN Well, if all your work isn’t turned in within the next two weeks, he’s gonna ban you from the prom. Tessa rolls her eyes. Whatever.
TESSA
Ben gawks at her. BEN Tessa, I had to talk him down from suspension. Eyes empty, Tessa looks at him. Disgusted, Ben turns. BEN (CONT’D) I don’t know what to do with you anymore, Tessa. Ben pounds the beer, then exits. Tessa whispers and fingers her locket. TESSA I don’t know what to do with you either, Dad. INT. CLASSROOM - DAY Tessa joins Irene in the back row. Irene grins. IRENE That was pretty crazy yesterday, huh? Tessa, bruises the color of plums, looks flatly at Irene.
13. IRENE (CONT’D) What was that boy’s name again? The one Jacob helped? Tessa inspects her nails. Kirk.
TESSA
IRENE He seems nice. The BELL RINGS. INT. CLASSROOM - HEAD OF CLASS - DAY Mr. Kaufmann dances in circles, flailing his arms like a bird. He slows until he stands still. MR. KAUFMANN Today, I’m light as a feather. No response. MR. KAUFMANN (CONT’D) Would you like to know why? The ROOM MURMURS. MR. KAUFMANN (CONT’D) Because I burned all of your paintings last night. Well, almost all of them. GASPS erupt. INT. CLASSROOM - TESSA’S DESK - DAY Dumbfounded, Tessa gapes at Mr. Kaufmann. Irene sobs. INT. CLASSROOM - HEAD OF CLASS - DAY Mr. Kaufmann waives a hand in Irene’s direction. MR. KAUFMANN Other than Ms. Martin... You can stop crying, Dear. Staring at some invisible thing, Mr. Kaufmann paces.
14. MR. KAUFMANN (CONT’D) No one showed any emotion in their work. No feeling. He stops. MR. KAUFMANN (CONT’D) So, tell me. Knowing all your effort, all your hard work has been erased, how are you feeling now? Angry glances from every angle. WARREN, 16, dressed in black, pounds a fist on his desk. Pissed!
WARREN
MR. KAUFMANN Yes! Good, Warren. Mr. Kaufmann paces again. MR. KAUFMANN (CONT’D) Use it. Channel the anger into something teeming with emotion. Pour your hopes, dreams, disappointments-- your everything-into it. You have two weeks... GROANS echo from the classroom. INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY Students shuffle from the classroom. Tessa reaches to stop Irene, but Whitney, Carrie and Rachel in tow, intercepts. WHITNEY Hey, Dumbo. Irene stops. Carrie and Rachel smirk. WHITNEY (CONT’D) Who was that hottie you were with yesterday? The one who helped the nerd? Tessa glares at Whitney. Irene hesitates. WHITNEY (CONT’D) Are you mute? With puppy-dog eyes, Irene shakes her head.
15. Exasperated, Whitney raises her forearms, palms up. WHITNEY (CONT’D) C’mon, retard. Speak! Tessa grabs one of Whitney’s wrists. Whitney incredulously stares at Tessa’s hand. Then, she raises eyes, boring a hole into Tessa’s. WHITNEY (CONT’D) Get. Your. Hand. Off. Me. TESSA How about you leave her alone? Whitney snickers. She turns to Carrie and Rachel. WHITNEY How perfect. Mess has a new friend. Carrie and Rachel chortle. Whitney turns back to Tessa. WHITNEY (CONT’D) Are you two a couple? I should’ve guessed. Tessa clenches her jaw, exhales sharply through her nose and grips harder. Whitney winces. TESSA No, bitchwad. We’re not a couple. And the guy you’re asking about... that’s her brother. So, you may want to reconsider being a total asshole. EXT. SCHOOL COURTYARD - DAY Sunlight envelops Tessa and Irene. Irene looks dejected; Tessa flounders. TESSA Whitney’s a whoreface wench. You shouldn’t listen to her. Irene perks up. TESSA (CONT’D) And definitely don’t let her anywhere near your brother.