Pariah Page #3

MATH TEACHER (CONT’D)

But the highest grade on the test

was a 98.

The math teacher puts Alike’s test on her desk and gives her

a little smile. Alike doesn’t smile back.

The lunch bell rings and the class is a tornado, clearing the

room in a rush of limbs, shouts, and backpacks. Alike jabs

her headphones into her ears and packs her bag very

deliberately, letting the eye of the storm pass over her

before heading toward the door.

16 INT. SCHOOL CAFETERIA - DAY 16

The cafeteria is a whirl of activity and social jockeying.

Clusters of girls and boys loud-talk, flirt, fight and

horseplay at tables and in tight little groups against the

walls. Alike walks alone, staying at the fringes of the crowd

and shrugs through the cafeteria line.

17 INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY 17

Alike flees the cafeteria, tray laden with rubbery cuisine of

dubious nutritional value. She raps on the door of a

classroom and slips in.

MRS. ALVARADO (O.S.)

Hey there!

13.

18 INT. AP ENGLISH CLASSROOM - DAY 18

ALIKE:

Hey!

MRS. ALVARADO, a middle aged Californian ex-hippie type

reclines with her feet on her desk, munching on celery sticks

and sunflower seed paste. Her small desk radio plays

alternative rock. Sun beams into the empty classroom and

Alike squints as she yanks the headphones out of her ears and

pulls up a chair next to her desk.

MRS. ALVARADO

Whaddja bring me?

ALIKE:

Nothin’ you can eat.

MRS. ALVARADO

You shouldn’t be eatin’ that crap,

either.

ALIKE:

(over a mouthful of pizza)

I know.

MRS. ALVARADO

Sooo, where’s the new stuff?

Alike hands over her purple and white composition book. Mrs.

Alvarado thumbs the pages, reading silently.

MRS. ALVARADO

Hmmm.

ALIKE:

Did you see the one in the back?

Mrs. Alvarado flips to the back of the book and her mouth

moves silently as she reads.

ALIKE (CONT’D)

I’ll probably do it in class.

Mrs. Alvarado hands the book back to Alike and digs in to

another celery stick.

ALIKE:

So?

MRS. ALVARADO

So what?

14.

ALIKE:

What do you think?

MRS. ALVARADO

They’re okay.

ALIKE:

Okay?

MRS. ALVARADO

They’re lovely. Of course your

descriptiveness and use of

alliteration is beautiful and all,

you know that. But...I don’t know.

Is it your best? No.

Alike frowns through the pages of the composition book.

ALIKE:

I thought it was good.

MRS. ALVARADO

It’s good. Not great.

Alike slumps back into her seat and considers the book’s

cover.

MRS. ALVARADO

I believe you can go deeper.

19 INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - AFTERNOON 19

Audrey is a heat-seeking missile, whipping through the sparse

hallways of the trauma wing, her clipboard and pen in

constant motion. NURSES and AIDES scatter in her wake,

suddenly busying themselves with little bits of chore work to

avoid her caustic gaze. She barks at a cluster of CLERKS chitchatting

in the elevator bank and all but one manage to

escape. Audrey drills her.

AUDREY:

Oh, so your log is all up to date?

CLERK:

No I-

AUDREY:

And you’ve checked the round for

any calls?

CLERK:

Well I -

15.

AUDREY:

Do you even know which doctors are

on the floor?

CLERK:

No ma’am I-

AUDREY:

Then I suggest you get busy.

The clerk skitters off red-faced, and Audrey looks daggers

into her back before storming the break room.

20 INT. HOSPITAL BREAK ROOM - CONTINUOUS 20

Audrey whisks her lunch bag out of the fridge and heads

toward a table. A few lounging AIDES wad up their garbage and

flee the break room. Audrey settles down at the table and

pulls a fashion magazine from her work tote, pretending not

to be hurt. She peels open a cup of vanilla yogurt and begins

reading. A big red department store bag sits next to her work

tote. The television suspended over the table mumbles

corporate healthcare infomercials. MRS. SINGLETARY, one of

Audrey’s co-workers swoops in and plops a plastic grocery bag

on the table across from her.

MRS. SINGLETARY

Hey girl! Mind if I sit here?

AUDREY:

No, not at all. Help yourself.

MRS. SINGLETARY

Whatchu got there? You been

shopping?

AUDREY:

Oh, no. Just some yogurt. Some

vanilla yogurt.

MRS. SINGLETARY

No I meant in the bag. What do you

have in the shopping bag--the big

red thing?

AUDREY:

Oh I’m...I don’t know where my mind

is...Yeah, this is just uh--well

let me get your opinion.

Audrey’s steely exterior melts away and suddenly she is all

butterflies and giggles. She rifles through the bag and

hoists out a pink ribbed v-neck sweater.

16.

MRS. SINGLETARY

Oh that’s nice.

AUDREY:

Yeah see isn’t this cute?

MRS. SINGLETARY

Umm-hmm. That’s for your daughter?

AUDREY:

Yeah, this is for Alike.

MRS. SINGLETARY

The youngest one.

AUDREY:

No she’s the oldest one.

MRS. SINGLETARY

Oh, the other one. Okay.

AUDREY:

What, you think it’s too young?

MRS. SINGLETARY

No, no. For whatever reason the

youngest one popped in my mind

first. But I think it should be

fine. It’s really cute.

AUDREY:

Thank you.

MRS. SINGLETARY

It’ll compliment her figure.

AUDREY:

Now see that’s what I thought...

But Lee doesn’t like anything I

pick out for her anymore.

Mrs. Singletary takes a bite of her lunch and takes the

sweater from Audrey.

MRS. SINGLETARY

Girl, please. My oldest, 17 going

on 27 mind you, banned me from

buying her any more clothes. We

have two completely different

tastes. I just give her gift cards

now and trust me, we’re both

happier for it. Is it her birthday?

17.

Mrs. Singletary hands the sweater back to Audrey who smooths

it carefully back into the tissue paper.

AUDREY:

No, no. I just wanted to get her

something nice. You know.

Three ROWDY CO-WORKERS burst into the room chattering and

finger popping.

ROWDY CO-WORKER #1

Hey, Brenda!

ROWDY CO-WORKER #2 ROWDY CO-WORKER #3

Oooooh Audrey, you got me a What’chall in here talking

present? about?

AUDREY:

Well, no we-

MRS. SINGLETARY

None of yo’ damn business!!

The co-workers hoot in unison and descend upon the various

parts of the breakroom. Audrey shoves the sweater back in the

bag and nestles it between her feet. Somebody cranks on a

small radio and a frisky R&B beat invades the air. Mrs.

Singletary pats Audrey on the arm.

MRS. SINGLETARY

Let me know how it goes.

AUDREY:

Oh I will. I’ll call you when-

ROWDY CO-WORKER #3

Hey Bren’ this is what I was

telling you about!!

Co-worker #3 shoves a tabloid in Mrs. Singletary’s face,

tapping an angry orange fingernail in the middle of the page.

MRS. SINGLETARY

Is that her?!

ROWDY CO-WORKER #3 ROWDY CO-WORKER #2

Told you! Look how big she done got!

The center of the room shifts and Audrey is once again alone

at the fringes. She collects her shopping bag and looks

around to say goodbye, but no one notices her leave.

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