A Night to Forget

[This is a relic from the screenwriting class I took last year. I don't think I'm cut out to be a screenwriter, but anyway, James Franco's mom was in my class. True life.]

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INT. – PROM – NIGHT

Two girls sit at a table as vapid pop singles blare in the background, accompanied only by a messy scattering of abandoned drinks and plates. A bored-looking brunette wearing a blue dress and dark eye makeup, CLAIRE, 17, blows bubbles with her gum, supporting her head with one arm on the table. An Indian girl wearing a long braid, a red dress and only a little matching color on her lips, ANJALI, 16, is crocheting with yarn from her purse.

CLAIRE
This is grotesque.

ANJALI
I thought the food was okay.

CLAIRE
(petulant)
I hate lasagna.

ANJALI
(placid)
Mm, then yes, this is grotesque.

Claire blows a bubble that swells precariously until it bursts on her face. She lets out a slow, exasperated sigh, and then starts to pick it off with an expression of disgust.

CLAIRE
I should have brought something to do.

Anjali looks at her and smiles superiorly.

CLAIRE (cont’d)
Oh, shut up.

ANJALI
(returning to her work)
I didn’t say anything.

CLAIRE
Tch.

A bit of gum that Claire has pulled from her face is stuck to her fingers; she fiddles with it pathetically.

CLAIRE
(oddly melancholy)
Why are we here?

ANJALI
To create magical memories, of course.

Claire sighs and sticks the bit of gum under the table. Anjali examines her crocheting and wrinkles her nose, then looks up and starts to mercilessly unravel her work. She pauses.

ANJALI
Ooh.

CLAIRE
(looking up)
What?

ANJALI
Toby is staring over here.

CLAIRE
(annoyed)
Oh my god.

ANJALI
Oh, lighten up. It’s cute how much he likes you.

CLAIRE
Yeah, well, tough shit. I’m with Darren.

Anjali frowns at Claire, who picks more gum off of her face until she notices Anjali’s expression.

CLAIRE
What?

ANJALI
You’re so mean.

CLAIRE
I’m not mean, I’m in love.

ANJALI
Tch.

The girls resume their occupations.

ANJALI
Well, I don’t know why you didn’t take him up in the first place.

CLAIRE
Huh? Darren never asked me out.

ANJALI
No, Toby.

CLAIRE
Are you kidding?

ANJALI
No, what’s so bad about Toby?

CLAIRE
He’s so awkward.

ANJALI
He’s really nice.

CLAIRE
But he’s so twitchy.

ANJALI
His humor column in the paper is really good.

CLAIRE
(derisive)
Well, if he’s so great, you go out with him, then.

ANJALI
Hmph.

Another sensitive silence.

ANJALI
So where is the Great Darren, anyway?

CLAIRE
Peeing.

ANJALI
(sarcastic)
Ooh.

CLAIRE
Oh, so what’s the problem with Darren?

ANJALI
I... just...

CLAIRE
Nothing, that's what. You’re just jealous because you want all of my attention.

Claire instantly looks sheepish. Anjali reacts subtly, hurt.

CLAIRE
Sorry.

ANJALI
You must really be in love.

CLAIRE
Angie, I’m sorry.

ANJALI
Speak of the devil.

CLAIRE
Huh?

ANJALI
(gesturing)
Your beau has returned.

CLAIRE
Ooh.

Claire hops out of her chair to greet a boy wearing black, DARREN, 18, who kisses her and wraps his arm around her.

DARREN
Hey, gorgeous.

CLAIRE
Hey.

DARREN
I’ve had enough of this shit. Wanna get out of here?

CLAIRE
Yeah, okay.

Darren takes her by the hand and leads her swiftly away. Claire looks back apologetically at Anjali, makes the universal phone gesture and mouths “I’ll call you”. Anjali rolls her eyes and curtly unravels the last of her work.