Scene 1: The Metropolitan Museum of Art

Leo Rylin

"Ready to go in?" I asked as she stared worriedly at the people going through the door.

"How did I still end up underdressed?"

"They're overdressed."

Elle grabbed my hand and carefully went up the stairs. "It's so hard to walk in these."

I chuckled watching her struggle in her heels. "I've got you, Bambi." And She glared at me but only for a second because she wouldn't take a step without staring down at her feet.

There are ropes leading everyone to the exhibit. We follow them into the room with candlelit tables and servers walking around with drinks. I'm assuming this is what people actually came for.

Not Heather though. She's standing in front of a sculpture, but we lock eyes the second she looks away.

Saying we shouldn't talk causes a bigger problem than it would prevent.

I mean, it's just Heather.

Elle rolls her eyes when I wave her over, and she makes a comment under her breath about Heather walking perfectly in high heels.

"Hi," Heather said hesitantly.

"Hi," I respond. "I've never seen this place like this."

"I know it can be boring for some people. It's okay if you don't like it."

"We like it."

A guy comes up next to her, I don't think we've met...but there's something familiar about him...

He puts his arm around her. Something I would've done to let her know she's safe. Something I would've done as her boyfriend.

Oh, yeah, I never got to see your face because it was eating Heather's.

"Adrian, this is Leo and Elle," she introduced.

He smiles and reaches his hand toward me. "It's an honor."

"Same..." I shake his hand to be polite and then watch as he kisses Elle's.

He's a whore, Heather.

"If you need anything, feel free to ask me," Adrian said politely. "I insist."

I nodded. "Thanks, man."

"Well...enjoy," Heather steps back, an arm around the dude to take him with her. "You look beautiful, by the way," she said to Elle.

And she does, but Elle hates Heather too much to say thank you...or believe it when she's comparing herself to these people.

"Don't give me that face, she's being fake," she scoffed at me.

"She's not."

Elle raised her eyebrows at where Heather and Adrian moved to. "No wonder she's so friendly all of a sudden. She's finally getting some."

What?

From that guy?

"Why do you think that?" I asked but Elle was following after the appetizer tray. My attention split between keeping track of her and trying to figure out where she got the idea that Heather and the real Italian were doing anything other than making the front page.

"So, this is what you centrals do for fun?"

"Yeah, when I'm not at the Yacht club," I reply, making her laugh. Things must be real funny because Heather and what's-his-face are laughing too...and holding both hands...and acting as if they don't notice anyone else in the building but each other. Elle's right, huh? I know this play. It's a stupid thing you do instead of admitting that you want to hook up. Why am I even in their space? "You think we should leave?"

"No."

"Maybe this was dumb." And for some reason, I just want to lay down now.

"We're already here, might as well stay."

"Yeah, alright..."

But getting some?

From that guy?

"Drinks?" Another tray comes by with wine or whatever else sparkles to wash down the fancy food they're feeding everybody. It can never be cheese and crackers, it always has to be unpronounceable.

"I hate that this is good," Elle sighed like she was in heaven.

"Why?"

"If we had a shit time, I could rub it in your face that I was right."

"So, I can rub it in your face now."

"You can do whatever you want." She smirks and leans in to give me a quick kiss. Her hands move to wrap my arms around her waist, and it's clear that this is the best date she's ever been on because she wasn't half as happy at the movies. "No one is bothering us. They don't care that we're here."

"Yeah, she doesn't care."

Scene 2: Sinclair Residence

Alison Sinclair

"Good, you're here." I pull Brooke into my room. "Evelyn you know Brooke, don't you?"

"Not well."

"Thank you for coming, I know this sounded odd when I tried to explain it."

"I didn't have anything better to do."

"What about now?" I hand them a copy of James' yearbook picture with the words 'undateable dork' written across it in red letters.

"James Novak." Brooke reads the caption under it, "Asks out every girl in the school, gets rejected by all except for his cousin."

"How did you find this out?" Evie laughed.

"His uncle works with my father. My guess is he had her pretend that she was his date so he would not look like an undateable dork."

Her smile widened. "We have to make more..."

"Way ahead of you." I hand them a stack of paper ready to be defaced. "There's a printer in my dad's office. All I had to do was scan our yearbooks for photos. When we're done, I'll make copies."

"Why lipstick?" She rubs some of the red color onto her fingertips.

"It's a no-kiss list."

"Adorable," Brooke commented.

"Who should we do next?"

"Johnson Dealy!"

"I said I wouldn't sleep with him and he left me in the restaurant and told me to walk home," Evelyn scowled at the memory.

"He has a collection of bras he keeps as trophies..."

"Predator," Evie writes.

"Pervert," I add beneath it.

"Garret Mycoff."

"He buys condoms that are too small so he can try to get out of wearing them," I recalled.

The classic 'it's cutting off my circulation' bit followed by 'I won't be able to stay hard.'

"He doesn't know how to kiss," Brooke complained. I heard you did more than kiss. "He literally made up what happened between us." Figures.

"Loser," gets drawn over his face.

And "Liar" finds a place on him, as well.

"Jeremy Crawford." It's a shock we can look at his face without ripping it to shreds.

"He told everyone I was a bitch because I disagreed that women should naturally be submissive to men," Evie rolled her eyes.

Brooke nodded, unsurprised by what she was hearing. "Went on a rant about girls having it too easy in the world because they can achieve things based on looks."

Okay. "Raging sexist."

"A raging sexist that cried like a baby when I broke it off," Evie scoffed.

"Now, Tony Milligan," I suggested.

She shrugged. "I don't know anything other than he's friends with Jace."

"He's quiet," Brooke added.

"He is a Jesus freak that uses God as an excuse for being intimidated by women," I said, angrily.

"What?" They both laughed, confused but amused.

"He trembles like a chihuahua and then laughs when we are called sluts, so he can fit in with the guys who say it."

"Pathetic."

"Creep."

And that's what I write across his picture.

"Oh my God, what about Trevor?" Brooke gasped, searching the stack of images for his.

"We'll need more than a page," Evie smirked.

"No..." I cut in.

"He's an asshole," Brooke argued.

"Not in a detrimental way."

"Then why aren't you together?"

"He's not capable of a relationship, but he isn't a bad person. He apologized constantly for not being a proper boyfriend. So, he at least cares."

She shook her head. "You're too nice."

"Am I?" I show them a finished copy of Ethan's page.

"Mommy issues?" Evie spluttered.

Along with a caption that lists his other issues such as using sex as a substitute for emotions and also being a temperamental toddler when he doesn't get his way. I would've typed out an essay about him, but the goal is to keep these short and sweet.

"Why else would he get off on hurting every girl he meets?"

"How are we getting these out?" Evie asked.

"I have an idea."

Scene 3: Department of Education

Audrey Michaels

"Nice of you to join us," Maisilyn sighed as I entered the room. "It's a good thing I arrived earlier. There is a lot to cover."

"Well, aren't you just the cutest overachiever," I said, sarcastically.

"Do you need to be briefed on what will be discussed? You don't come across as someone who knows what they're doing."

"You must think you're so clever."

"That's an odd way of saying thank you."

"I'd rather eat lead."

"Coincidentally, they have found lead paint in a few classrooms at a high school on the lower east side."

Lower east side?

Who cares then?

"I'm sure you have a solution all written up, don't you?"

Maisilyn narrowed her eyes. "Obviously."

You are the most arrogant nonentity I have ever encountered. She walks her smug face over to the seat next to the superintendent and puts her folder down. But, since she'd cut her leg off to be seen as important, Maisilyn starts going around the room to lick the boots of every board member.

If you were as smart as you think you are, you wouldn't cross someone and still feel safe enough to let your guard down.

If you were smart...you wouldn't have crossed me.

While they are preoccupied, I open her folder and take out the first half of notes and place them on top of mine...and for fun, I shuffle what's left in the pile as if it were a deck of cards. Best of luck, Maisilyn.

"The time is now 7 P.M. We can begin," the superintendent announced, causing the rest of them to gather around.

"First order of business, the dual enrollment English teacher at Lamont High school has unexpectedly quit. The students will lose their college credit without a replacement, but there are no other qualified teachers in the school."

"I have a proposal," Maisilyn stood proudly.

"You take the floor."

She flipped back and forth through her folder to find what isn't there. "I'm sorry, one second, please. I misplaced-"

"Excuse her, she is new to this, so it seems Ms. Brody is a tad underprepared," I gave her a pitiful expression. "I'll take over from here."

"Go ahead, Ms. Michaels."

"I suggest transporting the dual enrollment students to a local community college during their first or last period to attend an actual English class. Not only will they get their college credit, but they will also experience a real college setting,"

They nodded and made comments around the table, jotting down points and overall seeming pleased by Maisilyn's idea...mine, now.

"Thank you, Audrey."

The happiness I feel is coming more from justice than their praise. There is something euphoric in Maisilyn's eyes angrily boring into me.

"I'm sorry, is something wrong?" I smiled slyly.

"Oh, no," she looked down. "I think your pen broke."

"My pen?"

There are blotches of black ink in my Michael Kors button-up.

You are clinically insane.

"Do you know where the restroom is? You wouldn't want that to set," she said, menacingly.

"Write me a check, immediately, you wild animal-"

"What's going on?" Superintendent brought the board's attention to us.

I huffed. "Mais-"

She cuts me off, "A faulty pen, unfortunately."

"Why don't you go get cleaned up, Ms. Michaels."

It's custom-made. It's custom-made. It's custom-made.

"No, I don't want to miss anything," I say through gritted teeth and a smile.

"Oh, of course, we will take a brief recess," one of the board members announced.

I would've fallen to my knees in gratitude if I weren't already running to the restroom.

Water isn't enough, I'm in need of an emergency dry cleaning, but I hold the fabric under the stream nonetheless.

After I get the ink out of my clothes, she's going to need to get blood out of hers.

The door swings open and that rotten bitch walks in with a smirk.

"I will bury you, what about that do you not understand?" I seethed, and she leaned against the wall, unfazed. "Ugh."

"The stain will come out."

"You need to pray that it will."

She shrugged and headed back out to the meeting. "You look better with it off, anyway."

Scene 4: The Metropolitan Museum of Art

Heather Blakely

"Are you happy the night is over?" Adrian asked.

"It was uneventful despite my worst possible thoughts."

"I am proud of you for being open to making amends," my mother put a loving hand on my shoulder.

"Don't praise me for doing the right thing. I needed to."

"It's not easy," Adrian said...

"Especially since your feelings are hurt," she added.

"They're not."

"They were," he nodded.

"That was before a picture of you kissing me made it into the school newspaper."

"Am I an Addington celebrity?" Adrian asked with a smile,

"Audrey told me that he didn't look too happy when he saw it, so that helped."

"You wanted him to have hurt feelings."

"There are no feelings. We both got our moment of retaliation, and now we're in a place where there's no reason to acknowledge that we used to know one another."

"A tale as old as time." He held up his glass.

"Cheers." I bring mine to his.

My mother grabs it out of my hand. "No more champagne," she stated, and I glared as she walked away with it.

"She's going to drink it-"

Adrian put a finger over his lips and then motioned for me to go with him.

I let him pull me out of my chair and into another wing of the museum before I saw where we are meant to be.

A rack of champagne bottles.

He takes one and smiles at me. "You are absolutely not allowed to have anymore," he said as he opened it.

"God forbid."

"Adrian forbid."

He pulled the cork out and subsequently soaked us in alcoholic fizz.

I gasped and glanced to where my mother could possibly see us. "She's going to start yelling."

Adrian chuckled and moved me out of view which happened to be closer to him.

I looked down and laughed at our shoes dripping with champagne, and when I lifted my head again, Adrian had made the space between us even smaller.

Right, we do this now.

He brushed his nose against mine...and then his lips...

My eyes closed, and it was so easy to lean into him this time. I wanted to.

But a door closed somewhere near and we pulled away from each other.

"Sorry..." Leo said.

"I thought you left..."

"I forgot my jacket."

"You came all the way back?"

"I wasn't at home yet." He sighed. "I kinda need it, it's getting cold."

"I have a car waiting outside. My driver can take you there."

"I'm good."

"It's late."

He moved backward. "I'll be okay."

"Go with him," Adrian suggested. "I can let Camille know."

"Are you sure?"

Adrian nodded and then waved to Leo. "Nice meeting you."

"Yeah," he replied, plainly.

"Come on." I led him out of the door and could sense his reluctance. However, the temperature has dropped significantly in the past hour and pride doesn't keep you warm.

"Thanks..." Leo said after a while. He waited until the doors were shut and the silence between us was painfully awkward.

"Did you have fun?"

"A little."

"Did she?" He shrugged. "...Shouldn't that be a priority?"

"Sh," Leo held back a laugh. "Did he have fun?"

"Who?"

"Your date. Adam."

"Adrian. Yes, he enjoyed the exhibit."

"Yeah, that's what he enjoyed."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "...are you jealous?"

"No...it's just weird." How do you think I felt? "He's a good guy?"

I nodded. "You'd like him." And Leo simply shook his head 'no.'

"I didn't know you were into art that much."

"I don't know if I am. It's good to see it, but I like the general atmosphere of museums."

"The atmosphere," he snidely rolled his eyes. "Sorry," Leo smiled. "I like it too."

"People intentionally going somewhere to view art and history are nice to be around."

"I guess you're alright to be around," he teased.

Yet, it was nice to hear.

"You should see the Louvre, it's even better."

"In France? Impossible. That's never gonna happen."

"Not impossible. We could've gone..." I said, hesitantly, "before the whole..."

"Breaking up with me thing?" He challenged. Yes...that. "My mom asked about you, by the way."

"She did?"

"I told her we're good now and she was glad."

"Aw, she's the sweetest. I hope you're being nice to her."

"I'm always nice to my mom," he scoffed.

"Mm," I looked away, disbelievingly.

"Are you being nice to your mom?"

"Oh, because you were such great friends."

"Definitely," Leo chuckled. "We hang out all of the time."

"Hush," I shook my head.

"Does your dad miss me?"

"He talks about you constantly. The move will be hardest on him."

Leo's smile falls a bit. "Oh, yeah...you're still doing that."

"Planning my stint as a valley girl," I joked.

"It'll be weird not seeing you here."

"Why? We hardly know each other anymore."

"Nah, I know you," he said, staring out of the window as we stopped in front of his apartment building. "Hey," Leo reached into his pocket, "I got this out of the gift shop." He holds out a keychain of the Met. "It's not the Louvre, but..."

I try not to appear surprised when he hands it to me. "Thank you."

Leo nods, and my driver opens the door for him. "See you later...Heather."