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ALL SCRIPTS




                           MILLER'S GIRL



                            Written by

                       Jade Halley Bartlett






A cursor blinks on a blank computer screen. Text appears.

Adventures in Adversity.

The text is deleted and replaced.

Afflictions and Obstacles

The text is deleted and replaced.

I have nothing to say.

The words are deleted.

CU on clean, unpolished fingernails resting on the keyboard
of a laptop. We follow the fingers to the wrist, on which is
a series words written in faded ink, a grocery list of
vocabulary words: gormless, complaisant, obviate - The words
disappear into a sleeve.

CAIRO SWEET, 17 and plain in a dark hooded sweatshirt, sits
alone at a table in a huge, beautiful kitchen. It's dark, the
only lights coming from her computer screen, a dim bulb above
a massive chef's stove, and an expensive television hanging
on the wall, playing NOW, VOYAGER on mute.

She shuts the laptop and stares at the TV for a moment,
grainy black and white flickers casting shadows on her face.
Behind her, the sun is just starting to rise gray-pink in a
winter sky.

She unmutes the television just as Paul Henreid asks Bette
Davis if they should "just have a cigarette on it" in the
final scene of the film.

Bette Davis and Paul Henreid are reflected in Cairo's pupils.

TITLE CARD:

MILLER'S GIRL


EXT. BENSON AGRICULTURAL HIGH SCHOOL - PARKING LOT - MORNING

A gray Jeep Grand Cherokee sits in the vast parking lot,
exhaust smoking in the cold air.

Only three or four other cars are there - the early arriving
over-achievers and burn outs coming for last minute tutoring.

Cairo's face is reflected in the side mirror.

The reflection shifts to what she sees: a pair of stringy
teenagers walking toward the building.
                                                         2.


The girl says something that makes the boy laugh. He pulls
her close and kisses her as they walk.


INT. JONATHAN MILLER'S CLASSROOM - MORNING

Inspirational posters line the walls. A VANDERBILT UNIVERSITY
banner hangs above a dry erase board, on which is written MR.
MILLER - CREATIVE WRITING in beautiful, cursive handwriting.
Beneath that, a list of authors - Nabakov, Twain, Chbosky,
Sedaris.

Cairo sits at a desk in an entirely empty classroom, reading
her library copy of FINNEGANS WAKE. A venti Starbucks cup and
a small stack of books sit next to her on the desk.

JONATHAN MILLER, a tall, slim man in his 30s, enters carrying
a stack of freshly printed pages. He is surprised to find a
student in his classroom so early.

                       JONATHAN
             Good morning.

                        CAIRO
             Morning.

                       JONATHAN
             Class doesn't start for another
             hour.

                       CAIRO
             Yes, I know.

She absently blows on the lip of her coffee but doesn't drink
it.

                       JONATHAN
             What've you got there?

                        CAIRO
             Joyce.

                       JONATHAN
             Awfully big man for such a small
             cup.

                       CAIRO
             Shocking what you can fit in a
             venti.

He smiles.

                       CAIRO (CONT'D)
             It's a triple espresso.
                                                3.


                       JONATHAN
          Intense.

                    CAIRO
          I'm not a morning person.

                    JONATHAN
          Based on your arrival time I'd have
          guessed otherwise. Do you live far?

                    CAIRO
          No, just down the road in Lovell
          Hills.

                       JONATHAN
          Wow, nice.

                    CAIRO
          My parents are lawyers. Perks of
          the trade, I guess.

                       JONATHAN
          What kind?

                    CAIRO
          The expensive kind.

                    JONATHAN
          Do you want to be a lawyer?

                    CAIRO
          About as much as I want to be a
          high school student.

He considers her.

                    JONATHAN
          What's your name?

                    CAIRO
          Cairo Sweet.

                    JONATHAN
          I'm Mr. Miller.

                       CAIRO
          I know.

He hands her a sheet of paper.

                    JONATHAN
          Well, Cairo Sweet, I assume you got
          this before Christmas, have you had
          a chance to look it over?
                                                         4.


                    CAIRO
          Yeah, I've read them.

                    JONATHAN
          I know it looks intimidating but
          we'll move through these quick
          enough.

                    CAIRO
          I mean I read the books.

                    JONATHAN
          You read these books?

                    CAIRO
          Yes.

                     JONATHAN
          There are twenty-eight books on
          this list.

                    CAIRO
          I party hard.

WINNIE BLACK enters. She is 17 and gorgeous, overtly trendy
and just one inch away from being inappropriately dressed.
She gives Jonathan a once over.

                     WINNIE
          I like this whole sweater without a
          shirt under it business. I like it
          very much.

                    JONATHAN
              (uncomfortable)
          Uh, thanks Winnie. Nice...feathers.

                    WINNIE
          Oh, you like? They're sewn into my
          hair.

                    JONATHAN
          Okay.

                    WINNIE
              (to Cairo)
          You're overdressed as usual, I see.

                    CAIRO
          Your underwear as usual, I see.

Winnie leans over and takes a sip of Cairo's coffee.
                                                            5.


                    WINNIE
          This tastes like diabetes.

                    CAIRO
          I can see your uterus.

                       WINNIE
          You like?

                       CAIRO
          You wish.

Jonathan clears his throat. Winnie smiles and spreads her
legs wider for Cairo.

                    WINNIE
          What's on the agenda today, Killer
          Miller?

                    JONATHAN
          Nothing that will interest you, I'm
          sure.

                       WINNIE
          Try me.

                    JONATHAN
          We'll be discussing censorship in
          the American education system and
          it's effect on young writers.

                       WINNIE
          Boring.

                       CAIRO
          Important.

                    WINNIE
          Please. Censorship is dead. It
          can't exist with the accessibility
          of today's technology.

                    JONATHAN
          It's not just the banning of books,
          Winnie. It's the banning of ideas.
          And without ideas, what are we?

                    WINNIE
          Pop musicians.

                    JONATHAN
          You're not wrong. Do you know why?
                                                         6.


                    WINNIE
          Yeah, do you?

                    CAIRO
          Censorship distracts us from what's
          important. If we don't have ideas,
          then we won't have any idea what's
          going on.

Winnie rolls her eyes.

                    JONATHAN
              (impressed)
          Yes. Precisely.

                    CAIRO
          If we're taught something is wrong
          at an early age, we develop a
          conditioned aversion without being
          aware until it's too late, and by
          then we're likely too apathetic to
          care. It narrows our perception.
          Narrow perception is certain death
          for writers.

                    JONATHAN
          And censorship is certain death for
          readers. Clever.

                    WINNIE
          Boring.

Winnie sits on Cairo's desk and her stomach growls, loud. She
rubs her belly.

                    WINNIE (CONT'D)
              (to her tummy)
          What's that you say? You need a
          chicken biscuit?
              (it growls again)
          And a coke?
              (to Cairo)
          You heard the boss. It's
          chickybisky coke-y time. Let's go.

                    CAIRO
          You know chicken biscuits are made
          of chicken, right?

                    WINNIE
          So?

                    CAIRO
          So I thought you were vegan.
                                                         7.


                    WINNIE
          Ugh, hard no. The only weight I
          lost was in bone density.

                    CAIRO
          It's not a diet.

                    WINNIE
          Because it doesn't fucking work.

                    CAIRO
          Okay. May we get you anything Mr.
          Miller?

                    JONATHAN
          No thanks, Cairo. Sweet of you to
          ask, though.

                    WINNIE
          Ah. I see what you did there.

Cairo and Winnie exit.

Jonathan takes a deep breath and smiles to himself.

                    JONATHAN
          Okay. Good start, Jon. Good start.

He looks at the stack of books on Cairo's desk. Finnegans
Wake. The Paris Review. And UNDER THE ROOFS OF PARIS by Henry
Miller. This surprises him. He takes the book and opens it.

BORIS FILLMORE (30s) enters, wearing a MEMPHIS TIGERS hat. He
carries a pastry box and two coffees.

                     BORIS
          Pretty advanced for seniors, don't
          you think?

Jonathan shuts the book immediately.

                    JONATHAN
          It's a student's.

                    BORIS
          What's her name?

                    JONATHAN
          How do you know it's a girl?

                    BORIS
          Boys are too lazy to read porn.
                                                8.


                    JONATHAN
          It's not porn.

                    BORIS
          Every other word in that book is
          peen, poon, pee in the poon, pussy
          play peen poon and also anal. Gimme
          that.

He snatches the book from Jonathan.

                    BORIS (CONT'D)
              (reciting)
          "Marcelle wants me to fuck her. She
          leaps onto the couch and pushes
          herself between the girl and
          me...there's something so
          fascinatingly horrible about her
          that I can't move-"

                    JONATHAN
          Okay.

                    BORIS
              (still reading)
          "-I turn my back to get away from
          her when I feel her bald cuntlet
          touching the end of my dick-"

                    JONATHAN
          OKAY.

                    BORIS
          Tell me her name.

                    JONATHAN
          Cairo.

                    BORIS
          No way.

                    JONATHAN
          No way what way?

                    BORIS
          I had her last year. Didn't know
          she was a dirty nerdy. Heyyyyo.

                    JONATHAN
          She's not and we are not having
          this conversation.
                                                          9.


                    BORIS
              (resuming his recitation)
          "Marcelle stretches her tiny split
          fig, holds it open and pushes it
          down against-"

Jonathan snatches the book back from Boris and returns it to
Cairo's desk.

                     JONATHAN
          And that is quite enough of your
          elocution.

                    BORIS
          Split fig is fucking poetry.

                    JONATHAN
          Henry Miller, regardless of your
          opinion on what he writes, is a
          literary icon. If she's as smart as
          you say she is, then I'm certain
          she's reading his work for more
          erudite reasons than self-pleasure.
          Is that coffee for me?

                    BORIS
          And a muffin too, if you want.

Jonathan pulls a muffin from the pastry box. Boris goes
through Cairo's bag.

                    JONATHAN
          These look great man-
              (he looks up)
          Are you going through her bag?

                    BORIS
              (digging)
          How many wonders can one cavern
          hold?

Boris pulls out a university press paperback with DDC numbers
on the spine.

                    BORIS (CONT'D)
          Well slap my butt and call me
          Gramma - Apostrophes and
          Ampersands, six gruellingly pompous
          short stories by Jon Albert Miller.

                    JONATHAN
              (surprised)
          My book? She has my book?
                                                        10.


                    BORIS
          No one else could come up with a
          title like that.
              (he looks at the library
               card in the back)
          And she's the only one who's ever
          checked it out. How sweet.

Jonathan takes this book from Boris as well.

                    JONATHAN
          Don't you have a class to teach?

                    BORIS
          I've got an assignment up on the
          board.

                    JONATHAN
          That doesn't count.

Jonathan stares at the cover a moment and replaces the book
in Cairo's bag. Boris finishes his coffee and free throws it
into the trash.

                    BORIS
          I guess I can go pop in a movie for
          them.

                    JONATHAN
          Start the year off with a bang?

                     BORIS
          We can't all be Mr. Chips. Later
          Brofessor.

As Boris exits, Cairo bumps into him.

                    CAIRO
          Oh, excuse me Coach Fillmore. Good
          morning.

                    BORIS
          Good morning Cairo.

As Boris exits, he turns around and mouths "split fig" behind
Cairo's back.

                    CAIRO
          Forgot my wallet.
                                                        11.


INT. JONATHAN'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - THAT EVENING

Jonathan sits at a table with his wife BEATRICE, (30s, rapier
wit, minimal empathy). She is typing furiously on her laptop
and cross referencing on her iPad. Chinese food cartons
separate them.

                    JONATHAN
          Perhaps we could schedule a more
          convenient time for conversation.

She looks up and shuts her laptop.

                    BEATRICE
          Sorry, I've been back and forth all
          day with the Nashville office, who
          can't seem to articulate what they
          want to my useless agent and think
          they can somehow articulate it to
          me, which is pretty ambitious
          considering they think articulate
          is a Danish cheese. So I'm gonna
          start scooping my fucking teeth out
          with a baby spoon as that seems the
          most reasonable exercise to deal
          with this day's lunacy. How are
          you?

                    JONATHAN
          Jesus, babe. You need a massage.

                    BEATRICE
          I need a lobotomy.
              (trying)
          So, first day of the semester,
          yeah? You like the new class?

                    JONATHAN
          One of my first period kids is
          really bright. She's reading
          Finnegans Wake on her own, can you
          believe that?

                     BEATRICE
          Oh yeah?

                    JONATHAN
          And guess what else?

                    BEATRICE
          Infinite Jest.

                    JONATHAN
          Probably. But no.
                                                           12.


                    BEATRICE
          What.

                    JONATHAN
          Apostrophes and Ampersands by yours
          truly. Pretty cool, right?

                    BEATRICE
          And obscure. I wonder where she
          found it.

                    JONATHAN
          She checked it out of the library.

                    BEATRICE
          They carry your book at the
          library? That's so sweet.

Her phone rings. She looks at it in dismay.

                    BEATRICE (CONT'D)
          Hark. A confederacy of dunces.

He kisses her head and stands. The conversation is over.

                    JONATHAN
          Deep breaths. Happy place.

                    BEATRICE
          My happy place has all of their
          heads impaled on giant Montblanc
          pens.

She answers the phone.

                    BEATRICE (CONT'D)
          Hello, Amy. What is it now?


INT. JONATHAN'S HOUSE - HALLWAY - EVENING

We follow Jon through the hallway of his little house toward
the kitchen. It's an older home with wallpaper so outdated
it's almost chic now. A little messy. Books crammed into
every available space.

He stops at a bookshelf in the hallway and pulls down a well
worn copy of Apostrophes and Ampersands. He opens it to the
inside cover, where a dedication reads:


"BeatriceJuneHarker -
                                                           13.



For you. Every last word.
Yours Ever, Jonathan Albert Miller."
He flips through the pages - some have been highlighted,
notes have been written in the margins in a thick, strong
handwriting. He reads through as he walks.


INT. JONATHAN'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - EVENING

Jonathan enters the small kitchen and goes to the fridge for
a beer, still reading.

                    BEATRICE (O.S.)
          Can you get me a drink while you're
          in there?

He sets the book on the counter and rinses out a lowball
glass. He pours a couple of fingers of Maker's Mark.

Beatrice stands in the doorway.

He holds the partially filled glass out to her. She types on
her phone without looking up.

                    BEATRICE (CONT'D)
          You forgot the liquor.

                    JONATHAN
          Liquor? You brought her.

He pours a bigger glass. She smiles.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          Have you read Under the Roofs of
          Paris?

                    BEATRICE
          Henry Miller, yeah? The one where
          he wipes come off a prostitute with
          a dollar?

                    JONATHAN
              (reciting from memory)
          I take the first bill I find in my
          pockets, wipe my cock on it, and
          lay it crumpled on her bare belly
          weighted with a coin.
                                                     14.


                    BEATRICE
          Right, that one. I like that one.

He hands her the filled glass and kisses her neck.

                    JONATHAN
          You want to reenact?

He runs his hands up her arms.

                     JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          I can papier-mâché you with come
          and money.

                    BEATRICE
              (laughing)
          Gross.

                    JONATHAN
          We can crack you open like a pinata
          after you dry.

He unbuttons her blouse.

                    BEATRICE
          It's like the fun never ends.

                    JONATHAN
          What if I do it while you work? You
          won't even know I'm here.

                    BEATRICE
          What if you do the dishes instead?

                    JONATHAN
          Kitchen chores? What do you take me
          for?

                    BEATRICE
          Arts and Crafts specialist?

                    JONATHAN
          The Kandinsky of Come. The Brecht
          of the Boom Boom.

                       BEATRICE
          Appalling.

He kisses her chest and face.

                    JONATHAN
          After you make best-seller we can
          have fleets of children who will do
          all the chores.
                                                        15.


                    BEATRICE
          If I make best-seller, I'll pay the
          chores to do themselves.
              (her phone rings)
          Oh for fuck's sake.

It rings again. Jonathan sighs into her neck.

                    BEATRICE (CONT'D)
              (answering, irritated)
          What is it, Amy.

She walks back to the dining room, drink in hand. She leaves
her blouse unbuttoned. Jonathan adjusts himself in his
trousers.


EXT. BENSON AGRICULTURAL HIGH SCHOOL - A WEEK LATER - MORNING

The sun is rising. Jonathan sits on the side of a brick
building, smoking a cigarette. Boris sits down next to him
with two coffees and a pastry box.

                    BORIS
          Shit, it's cold.

                    JONATHAN
          Worth it for the sunrise. Best part
          of my morning.

                    BORIS
          Winnie Black's the best part of
          mine. I like to play drinking games
          with her outfits. Cooter shot?
          Drink. Nipple slip? Drink. It's a
          wonder I can make it through my
          day.

                    JONATHAN
          Without getting arrested?

                    BORIS
          Without getting blasted. But I
          guess that too.

Jonathan is not amused.

                    JONATHAN
          Why do you always have to hold my
          coffee hostage?
                                                        16.


                    BORIS
          Because you're a fucking puritan
          and I feel it's my duty to punish
          the goodness out of you.

                    JONATHAN
          You're a sadist.

                    BORIS
          I'm a public school teacher.

Jonathan stares at the sunrise.

                    JONATHAN
          Look at that. How beautiful is
          that?

                    BORIS
          You gonna sing about it?

                    JONATHAN
          I'm going to bask in it.

                       BORIS
          Gay.

                    JONATHAN
          You're the one who made it a
          picnic.

                       BORIS
          No homo.

                    JONATHAN
          Your applications of demotic
          language are endlessly inspiring.

Cairo walks past wearing headphones. Jonathan waves.

                       JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          Hey Cairo.

She doesn't hear him. Boris tosses a balled up pastry wrapper
at her.

                       BORIS
          YO, CAIRO.

She picks up the ball and throws it back.

                    CAIRO
          Is that how a gentleman says good
          morning?
                                               17.


                    BORIS
          When you're older you'll see how
          real men say good morning.

Jonathan is mortified.

                    JONATHAN
          What are you listening to? Little
          Wayne? No Direction?

                    CAIRO
              (embarrassed)
          Oh, uh. Celine Dion?

                    JONATHAN
          No way, for real?

                      CAIRO
          For real.

                     BORIS
              (horrified)
          But...why?

                      CAIRO
          Why not?

                    JONATHAN
          Ignore him. He wept openly, aloud,
          to the Titanic theme song at our
          senior prom.

                     CAIRO
          Me too! Not at your prom,
          obviously.

                    BORIS
              (to Jon)
          Do vows of secrecy mean nothing to
          you? To the grave, man!

                    CAIRO
          No judgement. It's devastating.

                    BORIS
          I didn't cry.

                    JONATHAN
          You were disconsolate.

                    BORIS
              (butt-hurt)
          Traitor.
                                                        18.


                       JONATHAN
          Hypocrite.

                    BORIS
              (to Cairo)
          You want a muffin?

                       CAIRO
          A what?

                    BORIS
          Did I stutter?

He holds out a muffin for her. She takes it.

                    CAIRO
          Okay. Thank you.

She takes a bite. It's buttery and sticky - the crumbs stick
to her lips and she uses her fingers to wipe them away.

                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
          Whoa, this is crazy good.

                    BORIS
          I know, right?

                    CAIRO
          You made these?

                    BORIS
          Yeah, but don't tell.

                       CAIRO
          Why not?

                       BORIS
          You know.

                    CAIRO
          ...I don't.

                    BORIS
          You'll figure it out.

                       CAIRO
          I won't.

                    JONATHAN
          Can't have the baseball team
          knowing he bakes muffins and cries
          to Celine Dion.
                                                           19.


                    BORIS
              (to Cairo)
          Well. Fuck me, right?
              (to Jon)
          You're an asshole.

                      JONATHAN
          Love you.

                    BORIS
          This isn't love, you monster.

                    JONATHAN
              (singing)
          LOVE WAS WHEN I LOVED YOU...ONE
          TRUE TIME I HOLD TO...IN MY LIFE
          WE'LL ALWAYS GO ON...

Boris flips him a double bird as he walks away.

                    CAIRO
          Y'all are sweet.

                     JONATHAN
          Something like that.
              (beat)
          You're gonna be late for my class.

                    CAIRO
          So are you.

Jonathan finishes his cigarette.

                    JONATHAN
          Come by after school today if you
          can.

                    CAIRO
          Am I in trouble?

                    JONATHAN
          I'd like to talk about your work.


INT. BENSON AGRICULTURAL HIGH SCHOOL - HALLWAY - MOMENTS
LATER

Boris walks   down an almost empty hall, checking his phone,
humming the   Titanic theme song to himself. He walks right
past Winnie   Black, standing at her open locker - it looks
like a Lisa   Frank installation.
                                                20.


                    WINNIE
          Excuse me, you can't even say
          hello? I dressed up just for you.

He turns around, eyeing her.

                    BORIS
          Winnie Black. If only that were
          true and legal.

                    WINNIE
          How's it going?

He walks up to her.

                    BORIS
          What do you want?

                    WINNIE
          Who says I want anything?

                    BORIS
          You're the hungry type.

                    WINNIE
          You think you've got me figured
          out, huh?

                    BORIS
          Not even close.

                    WINNIE
          You're awfully close now.

Boris backs away from her.

                    BORIS
          Tricky. Very tricky.

                    WINNIE
          I was wondering if I could get back
          into your physics class.

                    BORIS
          Oh? What for?

                    WINNIE
          I've got a boner for Bohr.
          Heisenberg gets me hard.

                    BORIS
          It would be a lot to catch up on,
          Black. You'll be two tests behind
          and only four away from midterms.
                                                           21.


                    WINNIE
          Do you tutor?

                    BORIS
          You don't need tutoring.

                    WINNIE
          How do you know?

                    BORIS
          Because I know you're smarter than
          advertised.

                    WINNIE
          Flattery gets you everywhere,
          Boris.

                    BORIS
          I don't recall giving you
          permission to use my first name.

                    WINNIE
          And I don't recall giving you
          permission to check out my tits,
          but I won't stop you.


EXT. BENSON AGRICULTURAL HIGH SCHOOL - ANOTHER HALLWAY -
MORNING

Cairo tries to enter the building from an outside corridor,
but two teenagers are blocking the door, making out. She
again tries to open the door, but they won't budge. She
knocks on the window. The girl pulls out of the kiss and
looks at Cairo through the glass. Cairo gestures to the door,
and the girl looks right through her before she goes back to
kissing the boy. Cairo is irritated but not surprised. This
is Benson Agricultural High School. She goes back the way she
came, passing other students carrying backpacks and coffees
and iPhones. Nobody notices her or waves to her. She is
singular and nondescript.


INT. BENSON AGRICULTURAL HIGH SCHOOL - HALLWAY - MORNING

Cairo enters through a different door and watches Winnie and
Boris for a minute before she joins them. They could be any
teacher talking to any student. Nothing unusual.

Boris walks away from a smiling Winnie. She turns and sees
Cairo and waves.
                                                           22.


INT. BENSON AGRICULTURAL HIGH SCHOOL - HALLWAY - MORNING

Cairo and Winnie walk together. More students and teachers
are starting to crowd the halls.

                    CAIRO
          What was that?

                    WINNIE
          I'm seducing Coach Fillmore.

                    CAIRO
          Why?

                    WINNIE
          Because I can.

A group of baseball players walks toward them in the opposite
direction. One of the guys whistles at Winnie.

                    JOCK
          What's your going rate, baby girl?
          Been saving up my lunch money.

                    WINNIE
              (not missing a beat)
          Finish growing out your vagina and
          then we can talk.

The other jocks laugh at Winnie's retort and continue on
their way. Cairo barely notices. This is old hat to her.

                    CAIRO
          Coach Fillmore though? He's a
          fucking primate.

Winnie gestures to the student body around them.

                    WINNIE
          These are primates.

                    CAIRO
          You're a lesbian.

                    WINNIE
          I'm an opportunist. You jealous?

                    CAIRO
          If I say yes, will you lay off him?

                    WINNIE
          If I say yes, will you lay on me?
                                                        23.


INT. JONATHAN MILLER'S CLASSROOM - END OF THE SCHOOL DAY -
AFTERNOON

Jonathan is attempting to grade papers while simultaneously
having a conversation with Boris, who sits on Cairo's desk,
eating a power bar.

                    BORIS
          This tastes like chalk, why do
          people eat this shit?

He tosses the rest of the bar out the open window. From below
we hear student yell "the fuck?"

                    BORIS (CONT'D)
          How's the book coming?

                    JONATHAN
          Not fast enough.

                    BORIS
          Trouble in paradise?

                    JONATHAN
          No. Yes. No.

                    BORIS
          Is she putting out?

                     JONATHAN
          Wow.

                     BORIS
          Knew it.

                    JONATHAN
          She's busy.

                    BORIS
          Too busy to get busy? Step it up,
          brah.

                    JONATHAN
          I'm not going to guilt my wife into
          sleeping with me.

                     BORIS
          Why not?

                    JONATHAN
          Who wants guilt sex?
                                                          24.


                    BORIS
          Guilt sex, make up sex, balloon
          animal sex...

                    JONATHAN
          This is why you're single. You know
          that, right?

                    BORIS
          I'm not single, I'm available. And
          late to practice. What time is
          dinner?

                    JONATHAN
          Six. Please take a shower first.

                     BORIS
          What, you worried Bea's gonna wanna
          get with this?
              (he stands and rubs his
               body)
          With this luscious sweaty man-meat?

                    JONATHAN
          It is actually my worst nightmare.

Boris begins to Roger Rabbit out of the room.

                    BORIS
          You better watch yo'self. I got
          moves. I got skills.

                    JONATHAN
          You've got brain damage.

                    BORIS
              (singing as he backs out
               of the room)
          Iiiiiiiiif you want my body AND you
          think it's sexy come on darling let
          me know-

Once alone, Jonathan sings along to himself and resumes
grading papers. He dances a little in his seat.

Cairo stands in the doorway watching him. He looks up and
sees her, and immediately stops mid-lyric.

                    JONATHAN
          Hey.

She tries not to laugh. He tries to be cool.
                                      25.


          JONATHAN (CONT'D)
Hi. Hello. Well that's
embarrassing, isn't it?

          CAIRO
I won't tell.

          JONATHAN
That's generous. Thanks for coming
by, I hope I'm not keeping you from
anything.

          CAIRO
Nah, I'm just waiting for Winnie.

          JONATHAN
Seems like you're always waiting
for Winnie.

          CAIRO
Sounds like an album title. Waiting
for Winnie by the Gin Blossoms.

          JONATHAN
Gin Blossoms. How old are you
again?

          CAIRO
In my body or in my brain?

          JONATHAN
What's she doing?

          CAIRO
She's with Mrs. Rodgers getting her
portfolio together. She's applying
for Vandy, you'll be pleased to
know.

          JONATHAN
Have you considered Vanderbilt?

          CAIRO
God no. Tennessee is a fucking tar
pit. No offense.

          JONATHAN
I think you'll come to appreciate
it when you're older.

          CAIRO
Maybe. From afar. As it burns. Like
Nero.
                                                        26.


                    JONATHAN
          And where do you intend to go?

                    CAIRO
          Stanford, naturally.

                       JONATHAN
          Naturally.

Jonathan opens a folder on his desk and pulls out a sheet of
paper.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          I want to talk to you about this
          week's assignment.

                       CAIRO
          Okay.

                    JONATHAN
          I asked for a first person short
          story from an opposing social
          perspective. Your peers wrote
          varying articles about high school
          social hierarchies - some attempted
          a comment on classism, Ms. Black
          delivered a scathing satire on
          popularity - and you wrote about a
          reluctant spider.

He begins to read from aloud from the page. The text appears
over the images we see.


EXT. CAIRO'S SHORT STORY - FANTASY

CU on a sturdy black garden spider spinning a web in a white
window sill.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          "Survival and desire amalgamated
          and turned an aphotic eye inward.

ECU on her black legs against the silk. A shadow falls over
her and she begins to spin upwards on a single strand.
A hand perfectly manicured in dark purple nail polish plucks
the strand from the web, the spider floating beneath it.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          I saw my expectations dismantled
          and dismembered by those harsh and
          starving dogs of reality-

She begins to spin upwards toward the hand that holds her.
                                                          27.


                    JONATHAN
          - the truths that sit in the
          vacuity of space like a
          hypergiantstar, burning to ash all
          elements too weak to withstand the
          awesome heat.

She makes it to the flesh of the hand. She crawls over the
top, over the fingers and around. She cannot find a way off.
The hand turns upward and she is cradled in the palm. She
stops moving and the fingers close around her.

The hand turns downward and opens and the spider falls.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          We are what we are.


She tumbles down - down into what a appears to be a
primordial forest.

She falls into the mouth of a venus fly trap.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          And all creatures must eat."

We pull out far enough to see the arm and torso belonging to
the hand, which now rests on a white windowsill, on which
also is a small terrarium full of carnivorous plants.


INT. JONATHAN MILLER'S CLASSROOM - AFTERNOON

He puts the pages down and looks at her.

                    CAIRO
          She's not reluctant, she's
          resigned.

                    JONATHAN
          To her death?

                    CAIRO
          To the order of things. She eats
          and also waits to be eaten.

                    JONATHAN
          Is she you?

                    CAIRO
          I suppose all fiction is just
          cloaked confession, isn't it?
                                      28.


          JONATHAN
And what does your spider confess?

          CAIRO
The weak are made to be devoured by
the strong.

          JONATHAN
That's dark.

          CAIRO
That's nature.

          JONATHAN
Could I keep a copy of this?

             CAIRO
Why?

          JONATHAN
Because it's gorgeous and I want my
wife to read it. I'm hoping she'll
write you a letter of
recommendation.

          CAIRO
Why not you?

          JONATHAN
An author's endorsement will carry
more weight than your teacher's.

          CAIRO
Maybe to the school.

          JONATHAN
You'll be a superstar in college.
God, you can post-grad anywhere you
want.

             CAIRO
Like Iowa?

          JONATHAN
Without doubt.

          CAIRO
I was joking.

          JONATHAN
I wasn't.
You shine. And you're just gonna
get brighter.
                                      29.


          CAIRO
That's what I thought about high
school.

          JONATHAN
What do you mean? You're gonna be
valedictorian.

          CAIRO
That's just following a formula.
Show up, make good grades. It
doesn't have anything to do with
being remarkable. You're the first
person in four years to notice me.

          JONATHAN
You'll see. Once you're away from
the troglodytes of track and field,
you'll find those more discerning
individuals of taste.

          CAIRO
Once I get into Stanford where they
can appreciate the egregious abuse
of my sublime vernacular?

          JONATHAN
It's better to have fat to trim
than not enough to cook.

          CAIRO
You learn that at Vanderbilt?

          JONATHAN
Missisissy.

          CAIRO
What?

          JONATHAN
My Aunt Sissy from Mississippi.
When I was a kid I thought my
parents were saying "we're going to
Missus Sissy", but they were saying
Mississippi. So I always called her
Missississy. She taught me that.

          CAIRO
That's a good story. You should
tell that at parties.
                                     30.


          JONATHAN
I'm too boring for parties. I'm
more librarysnooper than
cabinetsnooper.

          CAIRO
Because you define people by what
they read, you big snob.

          JONATHAN
People are defined by what they
read, little snob.

          CAIRO
I read your book.

          JONATHAN
Oh.
It wasn't as well received as I'd
have hoped.

          CAIRO
That surprises me.

          JONATHAN
There's no accounting for taste, I
guess.

          CAIRO
Not in Tennessee.

          JONATHAN
Not in New York either.

          CAIRO
You went to New York?

          JONATHAN
Alas to no avail.

          CAIRO
Was it fun?

          JONATHAN
It was an education.

          CAIRO
What did they say?

          JONATHAN
"No."
                                                        31.


                       CAIRO
             Well, brevity is the soul of wit.
             If you find that sort of thing
             funny.

He laughs.

                       JONATHAN
             They found my work...overreaching.
             Ambitious without direction, was
             the official word.

                       CAIRO
             They were wrong.

                       JONATHAN
             That's kind of you to say.

                       CAIRO
             I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean
             it.

Beat.

                       JONATHAN
             What did you make of it, truly?

                       CAIRO
             I memorized it.

She looks into his face. CU on the wrinkles of skin around
his surprised smile. He looks at her beneath his lashes.

                       JONATHAN
             You didn't.

Cairo laughs, awkward.


INT. CAIRO'S BATHROOM - NIGHT - FLASHBACK/FANTASY

Cairo sits in a clawfoot bathtub filled with pillows. She
wears tie-dyed pajama bottoms and an oversized, peeling
sweatshirt that says something like WORLD'S BEST GRANDPA.

She's reading the plastic sheathed library version of
APOSTROPHE'S & AMPERSANDS.

We look up at her from the page of the book. The text appears
on her face, as if projected there.
                                                32.


                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          "She was an electric white, noon-
          shadow moon casting cold light like
          water over the flat earth of my
          face - don't look into the sun,
          they say, but the moon - the moon -
          I stared until I was nothing but a
          bleached bone monument beneath her,
          human ruins of a madman's love."


INT. JONATHAN MILLER'S CLASSROOM - AFTERNOON

                    CAIRO
          I've read it countless times.
          Impossible not to.

                    JONATHAN
          Wow.

                    CAIRO
          Is that weird? It's weird, isn't
          it, I'm so sorry.

                    JONATHAN
          Please don't be. I'm flattered.
          It's the first story I ever had
          published. It's my favorite.

Beat. Jon blushes a little.

                    CAIRO
          There's something magic in the way
          the words and ideas come to you
          that very first time, unaccompanied
          and audacious, beautiful in the
          anarchy of it, like stars before
          they come together in a
          constellation - stop me if this is
          moronic.

                    JONATHAN
          No, no you're - I agree completely.

                    CAIRO
          Chaos is the score upon which
          reality is written.

                    JONATHAN
          Henry Miller.

                    CAIRO
          You like Miller?
                                                        33.


                       JONATHAN
             I do.

                       CAIRO
             That's what your work feels like to
             me. There's a slow violence to it,
             a creeping-upon that is so
             unexpected and...luxurious.

                       JONATHAN
             Where were you when I was in high
             school?

                       CAIRO
             What were you, like class of `89?

                       JONATHAN
             NINETY-NINE, thank you very much.
             God, you weren't even born.

                       CAIRO
             Wish I was. The nineties were tops.

                       JONATHAN
             You're not wrong about that.

                       CAIRO
             I'm not wrong about many things.

A moment passes between them - a silent thing that smiles and
knows without question or answer.

                       CAIRO (CONT'D)
             Is there more I could read? Short
             stories, poems, anything.

                       JONATHAN
             I wish I had something to offer
             you. I haven't written in a long
             time.

                       CAIRO
             Why?

                       JONATHAN
             I don't know.
             I got married. I started teaching.
             I didn't have anything else to say.

                       CAIRO
             Maybe you will.

He smiles.
                                                        34.


                    JONATHAN
          Maybe.
          Hey. How'd you like the scoop on
          the midterm?

                    CAIRO
          Sneaky. I'd like it very much.

                    JONATHAN
          I'm going to have you write a short
          story in the style of your favorite
          author. I think it should be the
          highlight of your portfolio
          submission for Stanford.

                    CAIRO
          Yes. That's genius.

                    JONATHAN
          Yeah?

Winnie enters the room, dramatically dropping her bags on the
floor. She's got a thick painter's portfolio under her arm,
stuffed with loose canvasses.

                    WINNIE
          She wants me to have fifteen new
          pieces in OIL. Fifteen. Do I look
          like a fucking Time Lord to you?
          No. I don't.
          My shift starts in like an hour and
          a half and mama needs some snickity
          snackities, let's roll. Hey JMill.

                    JONATHAN
          JMill? Is that my rap name?

                    WINNIE
          Obvi. You're so fucking gangster.

                    JONATHAN
          I'm skrate hood shawty.

                    WINNIE
          Nope. Don't do that.

She motions for Cairo to join her.

                    CAIRO
          Bye, Mr. Miller. I'll see you
          tomorrow.
                                                        35.


                    JONATHAN
          Bye Cairo. Bye Winnie!
          Holleratchaboy.

The girls grab their stuff and leave. Jonathan tries to
continue grading his papers, but is distracted. He smiles to
himself.


INT. CAIRO'S CAR - AFTERNOON

HEARTBEATS by THE KNIFE

Cairo's car is filled with crumpled paper, used books, and
candy wrappers.

Winnie sits cross-legged in the passenger seat, paintbrushes
and more food wrappers beneath her.

Almost every available space of the interior - the ceiling,
the doors, the console - is covered in art and language - an
ever evolving art piece by Cairo and Winnie.

We watch their town pass outside the car. Rural, beautiful,
overgrown. Yards with chickens, cotton and soy fields.


EXT. GAS STATION - AFTERNOON

Cairo's car pulls into a small country gas station.


INT. CAIRO'S CAR - AFTERNOON

Cairo leaves the car running.

                    WINNIE
          You want anything?

                    CAIRO
          A pack of cigarettes. Marlboros.

                    WINNIE
          Okay, do you want anything for
          real?

                    CAIRO
          That's what I want.

                    WINNIE
          Cigarettes.

                    CAIRO
          Yeah.
                                                         36.


                    WINNIE
          Cigarettes.

                    CAIRO
          ...Cigarettes, Winnie.

                       WINNIE
          Okay.


INT. GAS STATION - AFTERNOON

The Jock is behind the counter - not nearly as cool out of
uniform.

Winnie goes to the refrigerator and grabs a vanilla Coke,
then to the candy for a Zero bar and a bag of jerky.

She sits everything on the counter. Outside of school, Winnie
and the Jock are totally different to one another. Kinder.

                       WINNIE
          Hey.

                    JOCK
          Hey Winnie. You want anything else?

He starts ringing everything up.

                    WINNIE
          Can I get a pack of Marlboros?

                       JOCK
          You smoke?

                       WINNIE
          I might.

                    JOCK
          You're too pretty to smoke. My
          mom's skin looks like a handbag.

                     WINNIE
          It's for a project. I promise not
          to inhale.

The jock grabs a pack of menthols and sets them on the
counter.

                    JOCK
          Show me your id. Just for the
          cameras.

She does. He checks it and smiles at her.
                                                           37.


                    JOCK (CONT'D)
          Good picture. It'll be ten eighty.

She sets a ten and a five on the counter.

                    WINNIE
          Keep the change. Buy yourself
          something pretty.

                    JOCK
          See you at school tomorrow?

                    WINNIE
          Game on. See you then.

She leaves.


INT. CAIRO'S CAR - AFTERNOON

Cairo is doodling on her steering wheel with a silver
sharpie.

Winnie gets in and tosses the cigarettes in Cairo's lap and
opens her candy bar. CU as she sinks her teeth into the white
chocolate.


INT. CHAIN RESTAURANT - EVENING

Beatrice, Jonathan and Boris sit at a table in the back of a
family restaurant. An empty lowball glass sits in front of
Beatrice, and various beers in front of Boris and Jonathan,
who pick at chips in a basket.

Winnie, wearing a her own very tight version of what the
other waitresses are wearing, talks to the table.

                    BEATRICE
              (annoyed)
          This isn't a five star restaurant,
          honey. What is the hold up?

Her attitude doesn't faze Winnie. She's a pro.

                    WINNIE
          Some stupid fuck up in the kitchen
          that was entirely preventable. Can
          I get y'all anything else while you
          wait?

                    BEATRICE
          Another Makers.
                                                38.


                    WINNIE
          You got it. Coach?

                    BORIS
          Corona, no lime. Working late on a
          school night, aren't you?

                    WINNIE
          Drinking late on a school night,
          aren't you?

                    BORIS
          You think sassing me will get you a
          better tip?

                    WINNIE
          It gets me a better grade.

                    BORIS
          Touché.

                    WINNIE
          Another for you Mr. Miller?

                    JONATHAN
          I'm good, Winnie. Designated
          driver.

                    WINNIE
          See? Why can't you be a nice,
          boring teacher like Mr. Miller?

                    JONATHAN
          Boring?

                    BORIS
          And let my students make their
          grades on scholastic merit? Never.

                    JONATHAN
          You think I'm boring?

                    WINNIE
          You're so square I can count your
          pixels. Don't ever change.

She goes back to the kitchen.

                    BEATRICE
          I like her.

                    BORIS
          Everybody does. Hipster Helen of
          Troy.
                                                39.


                    BEATRICE
          She's in high school?

                    BORIS
          Devastating.

                    JONATHAN
          She's in my morning class.

                    BEATRICE
          I'm impressed she's ever had to
          make use of a brain with a body
          like that. Goddamn.

                    BORIS
          She's a 4.0 student.

                    BEATRICE
          No shit, really? How wonderfully
          unexpected. She writes, she reads
          Joyce? Hell, I want to date her.

                    BORIS
          No, you're talking about Cairo.

                    JONATHAN
          The one who was reading
          Miller...and Miller.

He laughs at his own joke.

                    BORIS
          Winnie and Cairo are best friends.
          Beauty and the Brain, I call them.

                    BEATRICE
          You feel good about that one?

                    BORIS
          Yeah, I thought it was pretty good.
          It's funnier if you've met them.
          I'm not a writer.

                    JONATHAN
          They're nothing alike. Winnie is
          trendy. Cairo is transformative.

                    BEATRICE
          She's a teenager.

                    BORIS
          He's prepping her to be his
          transcendence into the annals of
          academic glory.
                                       40.


          BEATRICE
What a lovely departure she must be
from the technology rotted jello
brains of modern youth.

          JONATHAN
You have no idea. She reminds me
why I do this. Teaching someone as
bright as she is almost makes the
rest worth it.

          BORIS
Makes what worth it?

          JONATHAN
Teaching. Striving to make a
difference.

          BORIS
Nah, that's a pipe dream, bro. Our
freedom as educators is restricted
to what seven or eight nine-hundred-
year-old-asscravats on a school
board decide fits their political
spank bank agenda.

          BEATRICE
It's tough gettin' crushed under
the wheel of oppression, huh?

          BORIS
Uh, yeah. It is.

          JONATHAN
You are not oppressed.

          BORIS
Name me one teacher other than
Michelle Pheiffer over here who
doesn't feel completely impotent.

          JONATHAN
A teacher who is attempting to
teach without inspiring the pupil
with a desire to learn is hammering
on cold iron.

          BEATRICE
Horace Mann?

          JONATHAN
Ten points for Slytherin.
                                                41.


                    BORIS
          We can't discipline them and we
          can't enlighten them. So we sit
          around with our dicks in our hands
          regurgitating under-funded,
          outdated programs that do fuck-all
          for nothing and no one. Icarus gets
          the rock up the hill only to have
          it crush his ass on the way back
          down.

                       BEATRICE
          Sisyphus.

                       BORIS
          Bless you.

                    JONATHAN
          You're only as helpless as you
          allow yourself to be.

                    BORIS
          Your idealism is so sweet, really
          it is, Jon. But this is the public
          school system. We don't grow
          presidents and peacemakers. We grow
          celebrities and domestic abusers.
          You wanna make a difference? Grow a
          fucking tree.

                    JONATHAN
          I had no idea you had so
          many...feelings.

                    BORIS
          Just look at your paycheck,
          Professor. That's the American
          story right there.

                    BEATRICE
          Bukowski couldn't have said that
          better. I salute you.

                       BORIS
          Who dat?

                    BEATRICE
          A misanthrope.

                    BORIS
          A whaddapope?

Beatrice rolls her eyes.
                                      42.


          JONATHAN
You wouldn't feel that way if you
had a Cairo. I know you wouldn't.

            BORIS
You know?

          JONATHAN
You have nothing to rise to,
nothing to earn.

          BORIS
That's rich from the man who
stopped rising to earn nothing as a
high school teacher.

            JONATHAN
Hey.

          BORIS
Your dreams defeated you, man.
Don't talk to me about nothing to
earn, just get your ass down here
in the mud where it's warm. You let
those waxy wings get too hot and
they'll fall right off.

          BEATRICE
That's Icarus.

          BORIS
Do you have a cold?

          BEATRICE
And not inaccurate.

          JONATHAN
What is that supposed to mean?

          BEATRICE
Well it's not like something bad
happened to you, you don't have
brain damage, we don't have kids.
You stopped writing because, I
imagine, it wasn't for you.
Otherwise you'd still be doing it.

          JONATHAN
I'm...a writer.

          BEATRICE
You haven't put pen to page since
we were in grad school. You're not
a writer.
                                                           43.


                      JONATHAN
          Okay.

Beat.

                    BEATRICE
          Have I hurt your feelings?

                    JONATHAN
          No, I just - I didn't realize you
          saw me that way, is all.

                      BEATRICE
          What way?

                    JONATHAN
          As one over the other.

                    BEATRICE
          It's not that you can't write, it's
          that you don't write - you chose to
          be a teacher. Why would I see you
          as anything else?

                    JONATHAN
          Because you fell in love with a
          writer.

She smiles at him.

                    BEATRICE
           I did, didn't I?

She gets up goes off to find the restroom. Boris and Jon
share a look.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - LATER THAT EVENING

Cairo is typing away on her laptop, smoking a cigarette and
ashing into a coke can. Winnie lays on the bed watching
herself in the mirror suggestively finish a popsicle. Her
tongue is purple. Her work uniform is crumpled on the floor.

                    WINNIE
              (re: the cigarette)
          You like it?

                    CAIRO
          It feels like something I never
          knew I was missing.

                    WINNIE
          So you're a smoker now?
                                                44.


                    CAIRO
          I'm smoking now. No plans for it to
          define me yet.

                    WINNIE
          What do you want to do this
          weekend? I traded all my shifts.

                    CAIRO
          What we always do Pinky - try to
          take over the world.

                    WINNIE
          Can't take over the world in a
          sweatshirt. A bunch of new shit
          just opened in Overton Square.
          Let's go shopping.

                    CAIRO
          Stealing the clothes off a
          Taiwanese prostitot does not
          constitute as shopping.

                    WINNIE
          You're a pretty girl somewhere
          under that mop of hair and those
          illfitting sweat sacks.
              (she goes to the mirror
               and checks herself out)
          Think how much farther you can get
          if you're hot. I make all the
          monies with these bad bad bunnies.

She plays her boobs like bongos.

                    CAIRO
          I don't give a fuck about being
          hot, Winnie. I give a fuck about
          being smart.

She watches Cairo in the mirror.

                    WINNIE
          You can be both. What are you
          doing?

                    CAIRO
          Short story.

                    WINNIE
          I can fucking see that. What's it
          for?
                                      45.


          CAIRO
It's the midterm for creative
writing. He hasn't assigned it yet.

          WINNIE
Shouldn't you be writing the essay
for your Stanford app instead of
prematurely writing a short story
for your hottie the body teacher?

          CAIRO
I would if I had any idea what to
write.

          WINNIE
What's the subject?

           CAIRO
What has been your greatest
adversity to date, and how have you
overcome? What the fuck am I
supposed to say -- dealing with the
toothless booniebumfuck waitresses
at CK's? I have had zero legitimate
adversity.

          WINNIE
It must be hard, what with your
awesome parents and being an only
child.

          CAIRO
I imagine it's about as hard as it
is for you to wake up every morning
looking like FuckMe Barbie.

          WINNIE
Aren't we just so fucking tragic.

          CAIRO
Let's be real for a second. I don't
have enough money to get legacied
into Ivy, and I'm sure as fuck not
going to a state school and for
double fuck not in this state. Is a
4.2 GPA enough? Of course not.
Because we are so super fortunate
to grow up in a post 90's
politically correct clusterfuck,
where my hard work is not enough.
Oh no.
          (MORE)
                                      46.
          CAIRO (CONT'D)
I have to be a deaf, legless orphan
from Cuba who canoed my dead
mother's carcass to America using
her bloated arms for oars, only to
become a prodigy violinist who
speaks three languages and started
a Fortune 500 company at the tender
age of 14. And still maintained at
least a 4.0. I have to be that.

           WINNIE
You ain't that. You better invent
something.

          CAIRO
No shit, but what? I'm not poor
enough, not rich enough, not fat
enough, not ethnic enough -- and no
one gives a shit if you're smart
enough. I'm a girl, so maybe at
least one part of me is minority
enough to exploit.

           WINNIE
We all invent our own reality.
You're smart enough to create
something.

          CAIRO
About what? On paper I am the most
boring of all borings. I bore me.

          WINNIE
You could write about the time your
friend fucked a teacher.

          CAIRO
Only if I made it first person. Are
you really going to try to sleep
with him?

          WINNIE
Haven't decided. What's it to you?

          CAIRO
You really want someone like Coach
Fillmore to swipe your V card? He's
like twenty years older than you.

          WINNIE
He's only fourteen years older than
me and so what? Older men are easy-
peasy eggs and cheesy.
                                      47.


          CAIRO
So it doesn't mean anything to you?

          WINNIE
What?

          CAIRO
Your virginity.

          WINNIE
God no. I mean I'm not holding onto
it for any special reason.

          CAIRO
Then why haven't you fucked any of
the guys at school who said they've
fucked you?

          WINNIE
Why settle for lunch meat when you
can have Kobe beef?

          CAIRO
What?

          WINNIE
We're like, the fucking American
wet dream. Young girls with
ambivalent sexuality, pheromones
steaming off our bodies  I don't
want some little jock-twat whose
sexual standards are mandated by
the shit porn he downloads. That's
deli meat. I want a dry-aged,
perfectly marbled slab of hot man
meat to take me to pleasure town.
Oof. I'm hungry.

          CAIRO
And you think that's Boris
Fillmore?

          WINNIE
Comparatively, yes.
    (Cairo makes a face)
Miller's no different. I've seen
the way he looks at you. When you
don't look like a homeless Eskimo.

          CAIRO
No. No way.
                                                        48.


                    WINNIE
          He's not nearly as overt as Boris.
          But like, he's still a guy, you
          know?

                     CAIRO
          Mr. Miller is nothing like the guys
          at Benson.

                     WINNIE
          I see. His separation from the
          peasants makes you wet, is that it?
          You're in love with him for his
          exoticism.

                    CAIRO
          I appreciate his contrast. He's
          different. He's smart.

                    WINNIE
          I'm just saying, he's human. And he
          has, what I'm sure is a giant man
          cock that secretly wants to find
          its way into a hot student.

                    CAIRO
          Stop.

                    WINNIE
          You must trust in my infinite
          wisdom. I'm vastly more qualified
          than you. Get up.

Winnie takes Cairo's cigarette, pulls a drag and dumps it in
the coke can. She takes Cairo to the mirror, where she lets
down her hair and pulls her sweatshirt tight to show off her
form.

                    WINNIE (CONT'D)
          See? Just a little work and you're
          totally fuckable. I'd fuck you.

                    CAIRO
          I know.

Winnie and Cairo both appreciate her form in the mirror. It's
intimate.

                    WINNIE
          Go forth my child, and conquer yon
          JMill.
                                                        49.


                    CAIRO
          What, with my luxurious maiden's
          hair?

                    WINNIE
          Make him love you.

                      CAIRO
          For what?

                    WINNIE
          For sport. For love, I don't care.
          I'll get BFill and you get JMill.
          Oh my God, rhyme schemes are the
          best schemes.

                    CAIRO
          I'm not into him like that.

                    WINNIE
          Says Ye of the Preemptive
          Assignment. Everyone loves someone
          pretty and talented, Sweet.

                    CAIRO
          No offense, but no one at school is
          walking around talking about how
          big your brain is.

                    WINNIE
          And yet I'm still top ten in the
          class. You are such a fucking
          square with your
          prettycan'tbesmart bullshit. In
          fact, it makes you a conformist.

They do. Winnie puts her face on Cairo's shoulder and her
hands on Cairo's waist.

                    WINNIE (CONT'D)
          Join the revolution. Be smart and
          pretty. It's totes the American
          way.

                    CAIRO
          You make such a strong argument.

Winnie releases Cairo and sits back on the bed. Cairo stays
in the mirror, watching herself.

                    WINNIE
          Listen, they're all the same --
          bifocals or biceps - they're men,
          and we got what they want.
                    (MORE)
                                                           50.
                    WINNIE (CONT'D)
          No reason you can't get yours too,
          however you like it. You want nerdy
          professor love? Go get you some,
          girl.

                    CAIRO
          Don't make me look like a Thai boy
          hooker.

                    WINNIE
          What is with you and South Asian
          sex trafficking?


INT. BENSON HIGH SCHOOL - OUTSIDE - NEXT MORNING

Jonathan and Boris sit in their usual location. Jonathan
smokes a cigarette. The sun is rising.

                    JONATHAN
          It's not that cold. Don't be such a
          baby.

                    BORIS
          I can see my breath.

                    JONATHAN
          Then go inside.

                    BORIS
          And miss Godot?

                    JONATHAN
          Soon't yourself.

                    BORIS
          Did you just say `soon't'?

                    JONATHAN
          So?

                    BORIS
          Soon't.

                    JONATHAN
          How do you say it?

                    BORIS
          Suit. I say suit. Because one would
          suit oneself, not soon't, whatever
          the hell that is.

                    JONATHAN
          That's what I said. Shut up.
                                                        51.


INT. CAIRO'S CAR - MORNING

Cairo sits in the passenger seat of her own car, while Winnie
puts blush on her cheeks. She holds three coffees in a tray
in her lap. Winnie sits back to look at her handiwork.

                    WINNIE
              (admiring)
          You're really very pretty.

                     CAIRO
          Shut up.

                    WINNIE
          Like actually pretty, not just
          smart girl pretty. Like full on
          She's All That transformative.
          Goddamn, I'm a genius.

Cairo takes a deep breath.

                    CAIRO
          This is nuts.

                    WINNIE
          This is fun.

                    WINNIE (CONT'D)
          You're ready. Onward.

Cairo gets out of the car. Winnie watches her walk away and
rolls down her window to cat call her.

                    WINNIE (CONT'D)
              (singing)
          Tryna get to yoooooou and dat booty-


EXT. BENSON HIGH SCHOOL - OUTSIDE - MORNING

Cairo rounds the corner of the building, carrying the
coffees. Her hair is down and she's wearing a fitted coat,
tights, and boots. She looks like an adult.

                     CAIRO
          Morning.

She hands them each a coffee.

                    BORIS
          What's this?

                    CAIRO
          It's coffee.
                                                    52.


                    BORIS
          No, no. What is this I see before
          me? You look like a girl.

                       CAIRO
          Thank you?

                    BORIS
          Yes indeedy Cairo sweetie, you
          clean up good. Got a big date?

                       CAIRO
          Nope.

                    BORIS
          Presentation in class?

                       CAIRO
          Nope.

                       BORIS
          Get laid?

                       JONATHAN
          OKAY.

                       BORIS
          I like it.

                    JONATHAN
          Thank you for the coffee. You
          didn't have to do that.

                    CAIRO
          Oh, totally my pleasure.

                    BORIS
          Muffins, muffin?

Boris hands her a white pastry box. She opens it.

                    CAIRO
          Oh my God these smell amazing. What
          flavor?

                       BORIS
          Split fig.

Jonathan chokes on his coffee.

                    CAIRO
          Have you thought about getting some
          art on these? Like a logo.
                    (MORE)
                                               53.
                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
          You could sell them to raise money
          for the team.
              (Boris laughs)
          Don't you laugh! There's nothing
          cuter than a boy selling a muffin.
          You'd buy some, wouldn't you Mr.
          Miller?

                    JONATHAN
          I can't resist a cute boy with a
          muffin.

                    CAIRO
          I know you can't. You could get
          Winnie to design it for you! She's
          great at stuff like that. Oh my
          god, you could call yourself the
          Muffin Man.

                    JONATHAN
          That is pretty cute.

                    CAIRO
          Winnie and I could help you with
          whatever you needed and you could
          be an experience on our college
          apps.

Cairo lights a cigarette.

                       JONATHAN
          You smoke?

                    CAIRO
          Will you tell on me?

                    BORIS
          No one would believe us if we did.
              (to Jon)
          Would you really buy some of my
          muffins?

                    JONATHAN
          Why pay for what I already get for
          free?

                    BORIS
          Damn. That's cold.

                    CAIRO
          I would. All the girls would.
                                                        54.


                    BORIS
          Okay yeah. I'm the Muffin Man. I'm
          the motherfuckin Muffin Man.
              (he jumps up and down)
          My balls are slowly creeping
          inward. You coming in?

                    JONATHAN
          Nah, I'm gonna have one more. You
          go ahead.

                    BORIS
          Soon't yourself, Brohan. Bye Sweet.

                     CAIRO
          Bye!

Boris leaves. Jonathan opens his pack to Cairo.

                    JONATHAN
          You want one of these?

She pulls out her own pack.

                    CAIRO
          Set higher standards, Mr. Miller.
          Have a menthol.


INT. CAIRO'S CAR - MORNING

Winnie sits on her knees in black ripped jeans and a tight
tee shirt with a screen print of a Lichtenstein weeping
woman. She's coloring in sharpie on the ceiling of Cairo's
illustrated car. She's listening to a cover of NO DIGGITY by
CHET FAKER.

Blurry students move around the car, oblivious to her and she
to them.

She's drawing a sugar skull around Cairo's handwriting - the
central piece of the ceiling - a mix of quotes from Tropic of
Cancer by Henry Miller.



Genius is dead. The world is rotting away.
It needs to be blown to smithereens.
GIVE UP THE GHOST AND PUT ON THE FLESH.
                                                        55.


The bell rings. Winnie looks over her shoulder.

                    WINNIE
          GD.


INT. BENSON AGRICULTURAL HIGH SCHOOL - HALLWAY - THAT
AFTERNOON

Jonathan is exiting the teacher's lounge as a tall, elegant
woman is entering. This is JOYCE MANNER, VICE PRINCIPAL
(50s).

                    JONATHAN
          Oh hey Vice Principal Manner.
          How're you settling into the new
          gig? Better than 10th grade
          English?

                    JOYCE
          I only get to talk to people who
          are in trouble. And typically
          trouble makers aren't the brightest
          so you can imagine how painfully
          bored I am. I think this job may
          have been a lateral move.

                    JONATHAN
          Bummer. Well you look great.

                    JOYCE
          Thanks. How's the magical world of
          an elective class? Must be charming
          what with your kids choosing to
          take your course and all.

                    JONATHAN
          Yeah, it's good this year.

                    JOYCE
          Your student reviews were
          outstanding. You giving them weed
          or something?

                    JONATHAN
          Say nope to dope, Joyce.

                    JOYCE
          I say a friend with weed is a
          friend indeed.

                    JONATHAN
          Do you?
                                                        56.


                    JOYCE
          No. But I like that it rhymes.
          Who's manning your class right now?

                    JONATHAN
          Ah, the hope of the future.

                    JOYCE
          You're streaming a movie, aren't
          you?

                    JONATHAN
          Dead Poet's Society.

                    JOYCE
          O Captain, my Captain, your class
          is probably sleeping.

                    JONATHAN
          Yeah, I should get back. Catch you
          around, boss.

                    JOYCE
          Only if you fuck up.


INT. BENSON AGRICULTURAL HIGH SCHOOL - HALLWAY - THAT
AFTERNOON

School has let out and kids are shouting in the hallways,
ready for the weekend. Cairo is putting books away in her
locker. Winnie stands next to her, playing on her phone.

                    WINNIE
          What did he say? Did he eye-fuck
          you so hard?

                    CAIRO
          He didn't say anything.

                    WINNIE
          Fool. You look super hot.

The baseball player entourage walks past the girls. The JOCK
smiles at Winnie.

                    JOCK
          Coming to the game, ladies? I'll
          let you hold my bat.

                    WINNIE
          If I wanted to hold a tampon, I'd
          just pull it out of your pussy.
                                                        57.


                    JOCK
          Fuck you, Black.

                    WINNIE
          Omigod, your whole vocabulary in
          one sentence! Come fuck me with
          that big nasty rhetoric.

Winnie humps the air. The JOCK flips her off and continues on
his way.

                       WINNIE (CONT'D)
          Jock-twat.

                    CAIRO
          Don't feed the animals, Winnie.
          They can't be domesticated.

                       WINNIE
          You ready?

                    CAIRO
          I've got to run by Mr. Miller's
          room first.

Cairo shuts her locker.


INT. JONATHAN MILLER'S CLASSROOM - CONTINUOUS

Winnie is on her phone by the door, keeping a watchful eye on
the scene. Jonathan is packing up his bag and shutting down
his computer. He's happy to see her.

                    JONATHAN
          Hey, kid. How are you?

Cairo sets her things down at her desk.

                    CAIRO
          I wanted to say hello before the
          weekend. You in a hurry?

                    JONATHAN
          I am. We're heading to Nashville to
          meet with my wife's editor.

                    CAIRO
          That's exciting.
                                                        58.


                    JONATHAN
          If you're into self-righteous
          literary types patting themselves
          on the back and forgetting your
          name, then sure. It's thrilling.

                    CAIRO
          Have you met me? I'm always into
          that.

Jonathan stuffs a packet of papers in his bag and checks to
make sure is computer is actually off.

                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
          Can we talk about the midterm for a
          second?

                    JONATHAN
          Of course. What's up?

He has all of his things. He comes around and sets his stuff
on Cairo's desk.

                    CAIRO
          I'm having second thoughts about my
          author and I want to get your okay
          before I go in deep.

                       JONATHAN
          Who is it?

                    CAIRO
          Henry Miller.

                    JONATHAN
          Whoa, provocative. He's not on the
          approved reading list.

                    CAIRO
          I think I can justify him.

                    JONATHAN
          His structural merit is challenging
          to emulate.

                    CAIRO
              (excited)
          It's not just structural though,
          it's everything - his decadence,
          his total disregard for literary
          etiquette, his destruction of
          convention. You know. The good
          stuff.
                                                           59.


                    JONATHAN
          Okay.

                    CAIRO
          Okay?

                     JONATHAN
          If there's anyone I trust to handle
          that kind of source material, it's
          you. Write what you know. Best
          advice I've ever received. You must
          write from life, from the depths of
          your soul!

                    CAIRO
          That's...that's from Little Women.
          The movie. The remake movie.

                    JONATHAN
          Yes...well...it's true. I don't
          ever want you to censor yourself,
          okay?. That's not what this is
          about.

Beat. A moment of suspension passes between them - Cairo
smiles and he returns it a moment before remembering himself.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          I have to go.

                    CAIRO
          I know. Have a nice trip.

                    JONATHAN
          Thanks sweetheart.

He walks to the door, then stops. Winnie is still on the
phone.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          Cairo.
              (she turns)
          Try and do something fun this
          weekend, okay? Take a recess.

                    CAIRO
          I'll rest if you'll write.

He smiles at her.

                    JONATHAN
          I'll see you Monday, kid. Bye
          Winnie.
                                                           60.


He exits. Winnie drops her phone, that she wasn't even on,
and runs over to Cairo.

                    WINNIE
          You like him.

                    CAIRO
          Don't be gross.

Winnie hikes up her skirt and bends over Jonathan's desk
suggestively.

                    WINNIE
          Oh Mr. Miller...I just love the
          decadence and the words and
          breaking all the rules.

She throws herself on the desk like a naughty school girl.
Boris comes to the door but they don't see him.

                    CAIRO
          I didn't say it like that.

                    WINNIE
          You thought it like that.
              (Cairo rolls her eyes)
          We make a good double-team-team. Oh
          my God, you're totally trying to
          seduce him.

                    CAIRO
          I am not trying to seduce Mr.
          Miller. I'm trying to get into
          college.

                    BORIS
          Am I interrupting girl talk?

Winnie slowly gets up off the desk and pulls down her skirt.
The action is not lost on Boris.

                     CAIRO
          No, we were just leaving, weren't
          we Winnie?

                    BORIS
          Uh, listen, I think your idea is
          great. And I'd love your help too,
          Winnie.

                       WINNIE
          With what?
                                                        61.


                    BORIS
          Can you keep a secret?

                    WINNIE
          I'm keeping Victoria's in my pants.
          Does that count?

Boris shifts uncomfortably.

                    BORIS
          I uh...bake. Muffins.

                    CAIRO
          And he's going to have the baseball
          team sell them to raise money. How
          hot is that?

                    WINNIE
          My clothes are literally melting
          away.

                    CAIRO
          They're going to call themselves
          the Muffin Men. And he wants you to
          design the logo.

                    BORIS
          Yeah so, I was thinking I could
          call you girls out on your lunch
          break or something to go over the
          specs.

                    WINNIE
          Why don't you give us your number?
          We could all maybe go look at some
          packaging options at the Hobby
          Lobby. Right, Sweet?

                    CAIRO
          Yeah. Totes.

Cairo looks at Winnie like she's crazy.

                    WINNIE
          Here. Give me your phone and I'll
          program myself.

He hands Winnie his phone. Cairo digs through her bag looking
for her own.

                    BORIS
          Cool. So we'll...get together soon.
                                                62.


                    CAIRO
          Hey can you call me?

Winnie punches on his phone.

                    WINNIE
          And now you'll have Cairo's number
          as well.
              (she listens a moment)
          It's just going to voicemail.

                       CAIRO
          Shit.

She hangs up and stuffs the phone in her bra.

                    WINNIE
          Whatever, I'm sure it's in the
          bottom of your bag.

                    CAIRO
          No, I just had it a minute ago.

                    WINNIE
          It's Friday and we're still here.
          Let's a-fucking go.

She begins to haul Cairo out of the room.

                    BORIS
          Uh, Winnie?

                       WINNIE
          Uh, Boris.

                       BORIS
          My phone?

                       WINNIE
          My phone?

                    BORIS
          Your phone?

                    WINNIE
          Your phone? Your phone.

She pulls his phone from her bra.

                    WINNIE (CONT'D)
          Right. Sorry.

She hands it to him.
                                                           63.


                     BORIS
           Thanks. See you later girls.

Winnie and Cairo leave, arm in arm.

                      WINNIE
           BYEEEEE!

                     CAIRO
           You're unbelievable.

                     WINNIE
           I'm practically a professional.


INT.   JONATHAN'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - LATER THAT AFTERNOON

Jonathan sits at a table in the now clean kitchen. Suitcases
are packed and ready to go by the back door. He is reading a
paperback copy of Stephen King's ON WRITING.

Beatrice is on her phone.

                      BEATRICE
               (On the phone)
           I'm aware.
               (she puts her hand over
                the phone)
           I'm sorry, just a few more minutes.

                     JONATHAN
           We were supposed to leave forty
           minutes ago.

Beatrice walks away. Jonathan goes back to his book.

Some serious gangster rap emanates from his bag.
He stares at it. It stops. It starts again.
Jonathan digs through his bag and retrieves a cell phone.

                     JONATHAN (CONT'D)
               (answering)
           Hello?

INTERCUT between CAIRO'S BEDROOM and JONATHAN'S KITCHEN.
Cairo sits at a desk smoking a cigarette.

                     CAIRO
           Hi. I think you have my phone.

                     JONATHAN
           And whose phone do I have?
                                                        64.


                    CAIRO
          Cairo Sweet's.

                    JONATHAN
          Cairo. It's Jonath- uh, Mr. Miller.

                    CAIRO
          Sticky Fingers Miller. How's the
          thieving business?

                    JONATHAN
          Alive and well, apparently. How are
          you?

                    CAIRO
          Out of touch with all the world and
          tethered to a landline since you
          know, you stole my phone.

                    JONATHAN
          I assure you it wasn't deliberate.

                    CAIRO
          Are you already in Nashville?

                    JONATHAN
          I should be.

Cairo and Jonathan hesitate. Beatrice pops her head in the
room.

                    BEATRICE
          Forty-five minutes.

                    JONATHAN
          Are you serious? We won't get there
          till after nine as it is.
              (she shrugs and exits)
          Sorry. You still there?

                    CAIRO
          Still here.

                    JONATHAN
          You live over in Lovell Hills,
          right?

                    CAIRO
          How did you remember that?

                    JONATHAN
          I'm eidetic. And Mensa.
                                                         65.


                    CAIRO
          ...that's incredible.

                    JONATHAN
          My mom is really proud.

                     CAIRO
          What are you doing teaching high
          schoolers?

                    JONATHAN
          Withering on the vine.

Cairo smiles and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          What should we do about your phone?
          We'll pass you heading East - We
          could just drop it in your mailbox
          or something.

                    CAIRO
          Yeah, that would be great.

                    JONATHAN
          Okay, what's your address?

                    CAIRO
          400 Huxley. You just take a right
          into Lovell Hills from Brunswick
          and keep going straight. You'll see
          us on the left - big old
          antebellum.

Beatrice enters, still on the phone.

CAIRO takes a drag of her cigarette.

                    BEATRICE
          I don't give a flying backwards
          fuck, Amy. Give them the first
          draft, they'll think it's new.

Jon waves at Bea to get her attention.

                      JONATHAN
          I must   have accidentally picked up
          one of   my kid's phones on my way
          out of   class. We need to drop it
          off on   our way.

                    BEATRICE
          Why don't you go do that now, while
          I'm on the phone?
                                                        66.


                    JONATHAN
          Will you be ready when I get back?

                    BEATRICE
          Promise. Get me some tampons while
          you're out.
              (to Amy)
          Not you, Amy, obviously.

                    JONATHAN
          Jesus. You owe me.

                      BEATRICE
          Big time.

                    JONATHAN
          Like road head big time.

                    BEATRICE
          I have to work.

                     JONATHAN
          Multitask.
              (Beatrice dismisses him
               and leaves)
          Sorry about that. I'm fixing to
          head out, is now okay?

                    CAIRO
          Yep, just call me on this number,
          okay?

                    JONATHAN
          Got it. See you soon.

They hang up.

Jonathan dog ears his page and shuts the book. He grabs his
keys, puts his wallet in his back pocket and waves at
Beatrice, who takes no notice. He runs his hand through his
hair in the mirror in the hallway.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Cairo sets the phone down and drops her cigarette in the coke
can. She goes to her floor length mirror and pulls off her
sweatshirt.

She grabs a cotton dress crumpled on the floor and pulls it
over her head, smoothing down the wrinkles as best she can.
                                                           67.


EXT. DRUG STORE PARKING LOT - EARLY EVENING

Heavy clouds stain the horizon. It's going to rain.

Jonathan starts his car. LOVER, YOU SHOULD HAVE COME OVER by
JEFF BUCKLEY plays on the radio. He sings along. A bag of
tampons sit next to Cairo's cell phone in the passenger seat.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - EARLY EVENING

Cairo stands at her open window, her hand on the sill. A fat
raindrop smacks against the white casement. A small spider
crawls inside.

Jonathan pulls up in the driveway. Through his windshield, he
sees her in her window and waves to her.


INT. CAIRO'S HOUSE - PORCH - EARLY EVENING

Cairo opens the front door. Jonathan stands with a bag in his
hand, hair wet from the rain.

FADE TO BLACK


INT. HOTEL ROOM - NASHVILLE - THAT NIGHT

Beatrice wears earbuds and types on her laptop. She is
surrounded by paper. A bourbon rocks sweats in a glass next
to her.

The television plays Bette Davis in Jezebel on low volume.

Jonathan is on his laptop.

CU on the screen - a blank word document with a blinking
cursor. He stares at it.

His beautiful hands hover above the keyboard.

Beatrice pulls out an earbud.

                    BEATRICE
          Whatcha doin?

He reduces the document. His email is behind it - amid
various promotions is a new message from
CAIRO.SWEET@GMAIL.COM.

                    JONATHAN
          Nothing important.
                                                           68.


                    BEATRICE
          I'll give you a kiss if you go get
          me some more ice.

He leans over to her. She kisses him on the cheek.

                    JONATHAN
          Want anything else?

                    BEATRICE
          Just ice. Thank you, sweet man.

Beatrice pops her earbud back in.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - EARLIER THAT AFTERNOON

Back to us, Cairo sits at her computer desk wearing a black
strappy yoga bra. She smokes a cigarette and we watch the
muscles in her back move as she slow motion ashes into a coke
can.


INT. HOTEL HALLWAY - EVENING

Jonathan walks down the hallway with an empty ice bucket in
hand.

He walks past a door marked BUSINESS CENTER.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - EARLIER THAT AFTERNOON

We face her now, the glow of the computer screen washing her
out in blue light. We can tell she's typing by her focus and
the subtle movement of her shoulders.

She smiles and goes still. She brings the cigarette to her
lips and takes a drag. We hear a single click of her mouse
and the swoosh of a sent email.


INT. BUSINESS CENTER - EVENING

CU on a booted up computer screen.

Jonathan sits alone in the empty business center, a full
bucket of ice next to him.

He opens Cairo's email.

Subject: Preemptive Midterm

He clicks the email.
                                                        69.


"Here's a shot. -C"

He smiles.

CU on printed pages filling a paper tray.


INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Jonathan enters with the ice bucket and a stack of papers.
Beatrice still sits with her headphones in, typing away. She
never even looks up at him.

He sits the bucket down next to Bea and goes to the bathroom
with the papers and a red pen.


INT. HOTEL BATHROOM - NIGHT

Jonathan runs the bath but doesn't plug it. He sits on the
floor and leans against the bathroom door.

CU on the pages in his hand.

"For Jonathan From Cairo". He smiles and takes the cap off
his red pen, ready to grade.


INT. JONATHAN'S CAR - NEXT DAY

Beatrice is in the passenger seat, napping. Jonathan watches
the road ahead of him, face blank and unreadable.


INT. CAIRO'S CAR - DAY

Cairo drives through the rural streets of Tennessee, hand out
the window. She wears make up and her hair is in a ponytail.

She drinks a neon red Slurpee. Her lips and tongue and teeth
are stained with it.


INT. JONATHAN MILLER'S CLASSROOM - THE FOLLOWING MONDAY -
MORNING

It's very early in the morning.

Jonathan sits stiffly behind his desk, and Cairo sits on the
desktop of hers. Her hair is done and she wears make up.

The clock ticks loudly.
                                                  70.


                    JONATHAN
          I think you need to pick another
          author.

                    CAIRO
          Why?

He starts to say something. Stops. Reconsiders.

                    JONATHAN
          This is inappropriate.

                    CAIRO
          Inappropriate.

                    JONATHAN
          Yes.

                    CAIRO
          Why?

                    JONATHAN
          When you said you were going to
          write like Henry Miller, this is
          not what I thought you meant.

                    CAIRO
          What did you think I meant?

                    JONATHAN
          I thought you were going to be
          explicit in your descriptions. I
          thought you were going to mix high
          language with modern
          colloquialisms. I didn't think you
          were going to write...what you
          wrote.

                    CAIRO
          I did all of those things.

                    JONATHAN
          You're better than this.

                    CAIRO
          Better than what?

                    JONATHAN
          Why did you write this?

Beat.

                    CAIRO
          You asked me to.
                                                        71.


                    JONATHAN
          No - why did you choose this
          content?

                    CAIRO
          You said to write what you know.

                    JONATHAN
          This is what you know?

                    CAIRO
          This is. Us.

Beat.

                    JONATHAN
          Cairo.

                    CAIRO
          It's allegorical.

                    JONATHAN
          Explain it to me.

She stares at him a moment before listing on her fingers, as
though she were speaking to a child.

                    CAIRO
          It's about two like people
          abnegating social convention. It's
          a comment on the sexual
          anesthetization of a culture super-
          saturated with pornography. It's
          about the inefficacy of said
          culture's romantic dogmas on young
          people's expectations.
          It's layered.

                    JONATHAN
          I think you may have misunderstood
          the assignment.

                    CAIRO
          I don't think I have.

                    JONATHAN
          This is not what we discussed.

                    CAIRO
          I was clear about how I intended to
          write the piece.
                                      72.


          JONATHAN
Cairo, I can't - I'm not sure how
you expected me to respond to this.

          CAIRO
I expected you'd be able to
appreciate the literature, to
recognize the various metaphors,
most of which we've already
discussed casually; I thought you'd
be able to show some objectivity.

          JONATHAN
That's what I'm trying to do.

          CAIRO
You're afraid of the content.

           JONATHAN
I'm not.

          CAIRO
You're afraid of what it makes you
feel.

          JONATHAN
Cairo, listen to me. I think
you're...you're so smart. Which is
why I'm not really sure what you
thought you'd accomplish with this.

          CAIRO
Why are you talking to me like I'm
a stranger? Say what you mean.

          JONATHAN
I'm having a hard time
understanding why you would choose
this subject matter.

          CAIRO
And I'm having a hard time
understanding why you're
antagonizing me. I wrote in the
style of Henry Miller. Like you
asked.

          JONATHAN
This is pornography.

          CAIRO
It's an illustration of social
hypocrisies in a psychosexual
culture obsessed with youth.
                                                73.


                    JONATHAN
          You can dance with the language all
          day long, it doesn't change that
          this is obscene-

                    CAIRO
          Obscene? Heavy word for a man who
          so strongly postures against
          unmitigated literary censure.

                    JONATHAN
          Stop.
          Do you know what this looks like?

                    CAIRO
          Do you?

Beat.

                    JONATHAN
          I won't indulge this conversation.

                    CAIRO
          You won't indulge me, like I'm a
          fucking child?

                    JONATHAN
          Yes, like you're a child. Because,
          make no mistake, that's what you
          are.

Cairo is stunned.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          Write a new story with a new author
          in mind.

                    CAIRO
          You're unbelievable. I did the
          assignment.

                    JONATHAN
          I won't accept this.

                    CAIRO
          I won't rewrite it.

                    JONATHAN
          Then I'll have to fail you for the
          midterm.
                                              74.


                  CAIRO
        You're gonna fail the top student
        in the class? How are you gonna
        explain it? What's the reason?

                  JONATHAN
        I DON'T NEED A REASON.

                  CAIRO
        GOOD. You'll really set the bar
        high for antithetical teachers
        everywhere, right?

                  JONATHAN
        I think you need to calm down.

                  CAIRO
        And I think you need to stop being
        such a fucking coward.

Beat.

                  JONATHAN
        This conversation is over, Cairo.

                  CAIRO
        You know what, you're right. This
        is fucking over.

                  JONATHAN
        Watch your language.

                  CAIRO
        Oh please. Now you have some sort
        of moral compass? Like it's okay
        for you to treat me like we're
        friends, like we're peers and
        then when it suits you or becomes
        too fucking real or whatever you
        just shut down?

                    JONATHAN
        Too real?

                  CAIRO
        You can't blur the lines and expect
        me to see a boundary when I
        suddenly cross it.

Beat.
                                                        75.


                    JONATHAN
          I apologize if you feel I've been
          anything but equitable -- but let me
          be very clear with you; you're my
          student. We are not friends. We are
          not peers. Any misconceptions you
          have about that are regrettably
          something you shoulder alone.

Cairo's face shifts backwards on her skull. A tightening of
pain and realization move over her.

                    CAIRO
          Write what you know, is what you
          said.

                    JONATHAN
          I know what I said.

                    CAIRO
          No you don't. You don't know
          anything you say.

He's coming unraveled. Her posture tight and coiled. A cobra.

                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
              (slowly)
          This is good. You know it is. So
          let's examine the real issues,
          which are you and your failures as
          a writer.

                       JONATHAN
          Excuse me?

                    CAIRO
          You thought you were gonna be hot
          shit, didn't you? You thought you
          were gonna be somebody, didn't you?
          "Overreaching without ambition."
          You know what that means? It means
          you weren't brave enough to be
          better. It means you are mediocre.
          You wanna fail me? I fucking dare
          you. Screw your courage to the
          sticking place and make it mean
          something to you because this
          banality, this falsity you wallow
          in will devour you until you are as
          small as you pretend to be. And
          then you will disappear and no one
          will give any more thought to you
          than they do an unread cookie
          fortune.
                    (MORE)
                                                           76.
                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
              (she moves toward him)
          I thought you were a good writer.
          But you just regurgitate the work
          of better authors. You're a bad
          impression of a good writer.

He is stunned.

                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
          How disappointing your inadequacies
          must be to those who believed in
          you. No wonder you're a public
          school teacher.

Cairo takes her essay from his desk and leaves.


EXT. BENSON HIGH SCHOOL - OUTSIDE - MORNING

TOXIC by YAEL NAIM.

Cairo walks through an outside corridor. Sleepy students are
starting to arrive.

She goes to the parking lot, gets in her car, and lights a
cigarette.
A text from Winnie appears on the screen: "Where you et
bish?"

CAIRO puts the jeep in reverse. Her eyes in the rearview
mirror are dead.


INT. JONATHAN'S HOUSE - LATER THAT EVENING

Beatrice sits at the dining room table, laptop, iPad and cell
phone all lit up. Papers and books are everywhere. A half-
eaten plate of spaghetti sits forgotten next to a sweating
soda cup.

Jonathan enters and immediately walks over to her, grabs her
face, and kisses her.

                     BEATRICE
          Hey. You okay?
               (he sits down and puts his
                head in his hands)
          Jon?

                      JONATHAN
          Bad day.

                    BEATRICE
          What happened?
                                                        77.


                    JONATHAN
          Well, I gave Cairo the midterm
          assignment and she drafted a
          version and - let me preface this -
          she's gifted, okay? Actually
          brilliant. So my expectations were
          high. But what she gave me was
          staggeringly vulgar. She made Henry
          Miller look like Dr. Seuss.

                    BEATRICE
          She chose Miller as her author and
          you're surprised the paper was
          vulgar?

                    JONATHAN
          She was supposed to use his
          literary technique not his subject
          matter.

                    BEATRICE
          What's it about?

                    JONATHAN
          An English teacher and a student
          who have an illicit affair,
          complete with precome and cherry
          popping.

She stops typing and looks at him.

                    BEATRICE
          No shit? Can I read it?

Jonathan regards Beatrice, who is staring at him expectantly.

                    JONATHAN
          I returned it to her. I'd have
          thrown it away if I hadn't.

                    BEATRICE
          What? Why would you do that?

                    JONATHAN
          Don't be dense, Bea. It's about me.

                    BEATRICE
          Was it well written?

                    JONATHAN
          What do you mean was it well
          written? It was pornography.
          I told her to rewrite it.
                                                       78.


                    BEATRICE
          What did it say? Tell me.

                    JONATHAN
          No.

                    BEATRICE
          Come on, Mr. Eidetic Memory. Dazzle
          me with a recitation.

                    JONATHAN
          Oh God, don't make me recite it.
              (she looks at him like a
               child awaiting a bedtime
               story)
          Well, after the teacher and the
          student have sex for the first
          time, she describes the - the blood
          as an oil slick.

                    BEATRICE
          What?

The quoted text appears on the screen as he recites.

                    JONATHAN
          "Alice sat back against the soft
          down of her pillows, her sex split
          and sore, and imagined herself as a
          pitted peach, with bruised and open
          flesh. The sanguine testament of
          her virginity lay heavy like an oil
          slick in the cream lace of her
          Tuesday's."

Beatrice blinks at him once, twice.

                    BEATRICE
          Her Tuesdays. Like her Tuesday
          panties.

                    JONATHAN
          Yes.

                    BEATRICE
          Clever. What else?

                    JONATHAN
          Four pages of teacherstudent rape.
          Yay!
                                      79.


          BEATRICE
Clearly allegorical.
    (Jonathan stares blankly
     at her)
The English teacher forcibly takes
the narrator, whom I will infer is
a young writer, through a
traumatizing and equally liberating
physical transition. It's literary
rebirth. I mean that's practically
fucking Greek in its layered
psychology.

          JONATHAN
Well great.

          BEATRICE
How is the teacher described?

          JONATHAN
"Mr. Murphy, tall and carelessly
attractive, kept his thoughts to
himself and his blue eyes at
halfmast. One might assume his
drowsy appearance to be symptom of
a vague institutional ennui, but
Alice saw it mostly to hide the
shock of indecency he felt when he
lay his eyes on the young unripened
bodies of his female students.
He licked his chapped lips,
imagining his tongue instead
sliding into the cleft between each
of their legs. Imagining himself as
the first. As the standard. None
were exempt from his salacious
reveries. Not the pockmarked wall
flower picking her fingernails in
the corner, nor the silver haired
princess silently deprecating her
ephemeral reflection. All cunts
were created equal and magnificent
in his mind."

          BEATRICE
Shit. She's good.

          JONATHAN
The quality of her writing isn't in
question here. It's the content.

          BEATRICE
Her language is...advanced.
                                                        80.


                    JONATHAN
          She's a kid, Bea. It's not like I
          can sit down with her and be like,
          Hey Cairo, great use of language.
          `Pussy' and `cuntlet' really give
          it that something extra. A+ +.

                    BEATRICE
          Well look  she's a seventeen year
          old girl. You're dealing with a
          creature whose whole identity is
          offset by a culturally predicated
          conformity she's been trained from
          birth to create. Teenage girls are
          hostile. Unpredictable. Attempting
          or expecting any kind of balanced
          relationship with one is the height
          of idiocy. They're incapable of
          separating themselves from the
          world around them - any examination
          not prefaced with accolade becomes
          instead an act of vituperation. She
          assumes you were disparaging the
          work itself, and therefore, because
          it is an extension of her...her.

                    JONATHAN
          What?

                    BEATRICE
          She took it personally.

                    JONATHAN
          What am I supposed to do with that?

                    BEATRICE
          It's an opportunity for a
          fascinating sociologic observation.

                    JONATHAN
          That's your advice?

                    BEATRICE
          My advice is not to worry. She's
          besotted. It's kinda sweet, in a
          twisted way. Twisted in her
          Tuesdays.

Jonathan pulls out a cigarette and lights it. It is a
Marlboro Menthol Light 100.

                    JONATHAN
          I want to get drunk. Can we get
          drunk tonight?
                                                        81.


                    BEATRICE
          I have to work.

                    JONATHAN
          You can't take one evening to get
          drunk with your husband when you
          drink all the live long day as it
          is? I'm not going to try to sleep
          with you, if that's what you're
          worried about.

                    BEATRICE
          What is that supposed to mean?

The front door bangs open.

                    BORIS (O.S.)
          Y'all shouldn't leave the damn door
          unlocked.

Boris enters the room carrying a large case of beer.

                     BORIS (CONT'D)
          What up?


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - THAT EVENING

Cairo and Winnie sit on Cairo's bed, passing back and forth a
bottle of vodka.

                    CAIRO
          God, how could I have been so
          stupid? I mean it offended him,
          Winnie. Like for real offended him.
          Scared him. He's no different than
          the other single-celled fuckwits
          infesting this godforsaken shit
          hole.

                    WINNIE
          Maybe he wasn't offended. Maybe he
          was affected.

                    CAIRO
          Maybe he's just appallingly simple.

                    WINNIE
          But you still like him, right?

                    CAIRO
          NO. Are you kidding? He's a
          pretender. At least with Boris what
          you see is what you get.
                    (MORE)
                                                        82.
                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
          Jonathan Miller is like fucking
          imitation crab meat in gas station
          sushi. Fuck that. Fuck him. What a
          waste of time I mean Jesus, he came
          to my fucking house - I need to
          disinfect. You fuck Fillmore yet?

                    WINNIE
          You know I'd tell you.

                    CAIRO
          I don't know that.

                    WINNIE
          Whatever. You know when I wax my
          vagina. I tell you everything.

                    CAIRO
          Let's play a game.

                    WINNIE
          Okay.

                    CAIRO
          Text him. Tell him you're drunk
          dialing him, that way he'll imagine
          you drunk and what you might be
          doing drunkenly.

                    WINNIE
          Are you serious?

She is. Winnie pulls out her phone and starts to draft a text
to "B.FILL."

                    WINNIE (CONT'D)
          What do I say?

                    CAIRO
          Ask him what he's up to.

She types the text and sends it.

                    WINNIE
          Oh my God I sent it. What do you
          think he's doing?

                    CAIRO
          Probably masturbating.

Winnie's phone chimes. The text appears on the screen. She
shows it to Cairo.

I was just thinking of you.
                                                      83.


                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
          Ask him what he's thinking about
          you.

She types Cairo's response.

                    WINNIE
          Would you ever make out with him?

                    CAIRO
          I don't know. Maybe. He's your
          jurisdiction.

                    WINNIE
          I thought you found him primitive.

                    CAIRO
          Well beggars can't be fucking
          choosers, can they?

Winnie's phone chimes again. She shows it to Cairo.

What are you doing awake at this hour, young lady?

                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
          Tell him you're with me and we're
          doing what all girls do at this
          hour.

She types the response.

                    WINNIE
          Too bad you're over J.Mill now. I
          was looking forward to a double
          banger.

                    CAIRO
          You'd fuck him too?

                    WINNIE
          For sure. He's kind of hot in a
          schlubby, sexually repressed
          collegiate way. I bet he's kinky as
          fuck.

Winnie's phone chimes, she shows Cairo.

And what might that be?

                    CAIRO
          Tell him girls like us are
          measuring the depths of our
          sexuality within the safe confines
          of BFFdom.
                                                        84.


Winnie types.

                    WINNIE
          Sick. You should just seduce
          admissions. You got mad skill, son.

Winnie's phone chimes.

What does that entail?

                    CAIRO
          Let's show him. Take off your
          shirt.

Cairo runs into the bathroom. Winnie pulls off her shirt. She
wears a neon push up bra.

                    WINNIE
          What are we gonna do?

                    CAIRO (O.S.)
          We're gonna make out.

Cairo comes out of the bathroom in a simple lace bra. Her
hair is down.

                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
          How's this?

Winnie is wide eyed.

                    WINNIE
          Yeah. Good.

                    CAIRO
          Give me your phone.
          Sit on your knees and face me.
          Closer. What are you, a dutch
          clock? Come get like right up on
          me.

Winnie comes closer. Their stomachs touch. Cairo sets the
phone to face them. She frames them in the shot.

                       CAIRO (CONT'D)
          Ready?

They kiss. Cairo snaps the picture and a flash bleaches them
in white light. She pulls away.

                       CAIRO (CONT'D)
          Send it.
                                                         85.


                      WINNIE
            What do I say?

                      CAIRO
            Nothing. Just send it.

She does.

                      WINNIE
            You should text Jonathan.

                        CAIRO
            No need.

                        WINNIE
            How come?

                      CAIRO
            Boris will show him that picture. I
            don't ever need to say anything to
            Jonathan Miller ever again.

                      WINNIE
            Cairo-san, I am most impressed with
            your magnificent mojo. And utter
            indifference to consequence.

                      CAIRO
            I'm not indifferent, I'm evasive.

                      WINNIE
            You're lawyer progeny, that's for
            fuckin' sure.

                      CAIRO
            Haven't you ever read The Art of
            War?

                      WINNIE
            No but I'm guessing you have.

                                                  FLASH TO:

Cairo walks through students like a ghost, making her way to
her locker.

                      CAIRO (V.O.)
            All warfare is based on deception.
            Appear weak when you're strong, and
            strong when you're weak - move your
            enemy but don't be moved by him.

                                                  FLASH TO:
                                                        86.


She grabs her things, among them an UNLABELED MANILA FOLDER,
into which she stuffs the copy of her essay.

                    CAIRO
          Get them close enough to check your
          pulse then slip the knife under the
          ribs. It's chess.

                    WINNIE
          Jesus. You're kind of scary.

                    CAIRO
          Any tool is a weapon if you hold it
          right.

                                                FLASH TO:

Cairo drops the essay into an INBOX outside the door of JOYCE
MANNER, ASST. PRINCIPAL'S office.

                    WINNIE
          How do you just come up with this
          shit?

                    CAIRO
          Ani DiFranco?...come on, really? Do
          you listen to anything I give you?

                    WINNIE
          Only the compliments.

Cairo's mom calls up the stairs.

                    CAIRO'S MOM (O.S.)
          Honey? We're going to bed. You
          girls need anything?

Cairo walks to her bedroom door, cracks it and shouts down to
her mom.

                    CAIRO
          No thanks Mom, we're good.

                    CAIRO'S MOM (O.S.)
          Okay, goodnight. I love you.

                    CAIRO
          Love you too, tell Daddy goodnight.

                    WINNIE
          LOVE YOU MOM!!
                                                        87.


                    CAIRO'S MOM (O.S.)
          Love you too, Winnie. Don't y'all
          stay up too late, okay?

                    CAIRO
          Night.

She shuts the door and grabs her cigarettes from her
backpack.

                    CAIRO (CONT'D)
          Have a cig with me.

                    WINNIE
          Okay. No. Okay. No. I'm just going
          to lay right down here and die.

Cairo digs through Winnie's bag and pulls out the Muffin Men
logo.

                    CAIRO
          I'm going to draw this on you.

                    WINNIE
          What?

                    CAIRO
          The logo. On your tits.

                    WINNIE
          Why?

                    CAIRO
          Because chaos is the score upon
          which reality is written.

                    WINNIE
          So sexy when you talk books to me.
          Do it.


INT. JONATHAN'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - SAME NIGHT

Beatrice and Boris sit in the kitchen. Chinese food cartons
and several beer bottles are spread over the table.

                    BEATRICE
          Well, I wanted to tell her to eat a
          bag of dicks but I smiled and shook
          her hand and bit my tongue in half.
                                                           88.


                    BORIS
          I don't believe it. You wouldn't
          know how to hold your tongue if it
          was handed to you.

                    BEATRICE
          No, I really did it! I mean, she
          deserved an extreme vagina punch
          and I held my shit together. Cheers
          to me.

The phone rings. Beatrice gets up to answer it. Boris is
texting on his phone.

                    BEATRICE (CONT'D)
              (on the phone)
          Hello? This is his wife, who's
          this? Uh huh, just a second.


INT. JONATHAN'S HOUSE - BATHROOM - NIGHT

Jonathan is staring at himself in the mirror. His pulse is
slow and his mouth is sticky. He looks sick.

                                                   FLASH TO:

Jon's POV. Cairo sits on the desk across from him, smiling.

Beatrice pops her head in.

                    BEATRICE
          Jon?

He looks up at her. He watches her mouth moving.

                    BEATRICE (CONT'D)
              (covering the receiver)
          It's the assistant principal ah,
          Joyce? Want me to tell her you'll
          call her back at a reasonable hour?

He focuses on Beatrice's tongue behind her teeth.

                    BEATRICE (CONT'D)
          Jon?

He snaps to.

                    JONATHAN
          Uh, no I'll take it.

He takes the phone and Beatrice leaves.
                                                        89.


Jon takes a breath before he says anything.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
              (on the phone)
          Hey Joyce, what's up?


INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Beatrice sits back on the couch with Boris, who finishes his
text and puts his phone back in his pocket.

                    BEATRICE
          Who is she?

                    BORIS
          Not telling you that.

                    BEATRICE
          Okay, I'll guess. Becky? Tara?
          Tiffany. A stripper, naturally.

                    BORIS
          This is why I will never tell you
          her name, Bumble Bea.

                    BEATRICE
          Can I help it if every girl you've
          ever dated owns a pair of five inch
          lucite heels and is named after a
          character from the Babysitter's
          Club? No I can't. Your life, your
          choices.

                    BORIS
          You're a snob. Kristy was great.

                    BEATRICE
          She had one leg.

                    BORIS
          Shoulda seen the way that nub could
          work a pole.

                    BEATRICE
          You're a pig.

                    BORIS
          Pigs have thirty minute orgasms.
              (he downs his beer)
          Alright baby girl, I gotta run.
                                                          90.


                    BEATRICE
          So soon? You've only eaten three
          pounds of food.

Boris gets up and tosses the food cartons in the trash.

                    BORIS
          I've got fortyfive popquizzes on
          thermodynamics to grade. Or fail.
          Jesus, we haven't even reached
          fractals - fucking hopeless youth
          of America. Tell Jon I had to run?

                    BEATRICE
          You got it.

                    BORIS
          Thanks kiddo. I'll see ya.

He kisses Beatrice on the head and leaves through the back
door. She finishes her beer.

Jonathan enters, visibly shaken.

                    BEATRICE
          Jon?

                    JONATHAN
          I don't...someone found the story.
          Cairo's story.

                    BEATRICE
          What?

                    JONATHAN
          Well, it had "To Jonathan from
          Cairo" written at the top, so you
          know, no mistaking - and uh, I
          guess someone read it and unable to
          appreciate the motifs, turned it in
          to the assistant principal. Joyce
          would like to speak with me
          formally to go through the
          necessary paperwork.

                    BEATRICE
          Paperwork for what?

                    JONATHAN
          An incident report. I think she did
          it.

                    BEATRICE
          Think who did what?
                                                          91.


                    JONATHAN
          Cairo. Cairo turned it in. I should
          have shredded it.

                    BEATRICE
          It's a short story, Jon. Not a
          communist manifesto.

                    JONATHAN
          It's the implication  if she
          convinces them that something
          happened between us, I could lose
          my job.

                    BEATRICE
          Why would she offer that
          information?

                    JONATHAN
          She offered it to me.
              (he stares at her)
          Can we get drunk now?


INT. BENSON CITY REC CLUB - OUTSIDE - FOLLOWING MORNING

Various people in work out gear run around a track surrounded
by metal bleachers. Jonathan, also in running gear, sits
alone watching the runners and smoking. He looks hungover.
One of the joggers, a young man in a BENSON BASEBALL sweat
suit, waves to Jonathan.

Boris enters the track and jogs over to him with a bounce in
his step.

                    BORIS
          Good morning, Brochill. Sorry for
          bailing last night. You know how I
          feel about shitting in other
          people's homes.

                    JONATHAN
          What's with all the sunshine?
          You're effervescent.

Boris pulls out his cellphone.

                    BORIS
          You won't believe me if I tell you,
          so I'm just gonna show you. Don't
          be judge-y.

                    JONATHAN
          Oh God. Okay. Show me.
                                                92.


He shows Jonathan a picture on his phone.

                    BORIS
          Take a look at that, my brother.

                    JONATHAN
          Woah. Woah. Who's that?

                    BORIS
          You don't recognize them?

                    JONATHAN
          Should I? Damn.
              (Boris flips the picture)
          Is that...is that the Muffin Men
          logo? On some very pert tatas?

                    BORIS
          Perfectly pert perky tatas, painted
          to look like muffins. It's genius.

                    JONATHAN
          Where do you find these girls?

                    BORIS
          That's the beauty and the brain,
          brother. Being beautiful and not so
          smart.

                    JONATHAN
              (horrified)
          Boris - You have to delete that.

                    BORIS
          Like hell I do.

                    JONATHAN
          Neither of those girls are
          eighteen. That's child pornography.

                    BORIS
          Two girls making out in what could
          easily be bathing suits is not
          child pornography, it's a beautiful
          statement about equal rights.

                    JONATHAN
          How did they get your number?

                    BORIS
          Don't pretend like you don't think
          that's hot.
                                      93.


          JONATHAN
That's exactly what I'm going to
do.

          BORIS
You don't have to.

          JONATHAN
Some really weird like weird things
have been happening with Cairo and
that - that just perpetuates - I
can't get involved in that.

          BORIS
The fuck are you talking about?

          JONATHAN
I don't know. I think she's into
me.

          BORIS
Doesn't look like she's into boys.

          JONATHAN
You don't think this is deliberate?

          BORIS
Maybe on Winnie's part.

          JONATHAN
They're fucking with you man, can't
you see that?

          BORIS
Alright, paranoid android, calm
your tits. I can like it enough for
both of us.

          JONATHAN
Does this idiocy come naturally to
you or is it an active effort?

          BORIS
Mostly natural. What's your deal,
man?
                                      94.


          JONATHAN
My deal is that my student has
recreated her own Justine as a
gesture of, of...I mean, I've read
some prurient stuff before but this
was some shameless, Marquis De Sade
shit and in a classic character
foible reserved for schmucks like
me, I didn't destroy it and the
goddamn thing was admitted to
administration for its graphic
content and I know how this is
gonna sound, but I think she did it
to punish me because I
didn't...because - I don't know.
And now I have to meet with Joyce
because it was fucking dedicated to
me and I have to explain why and
what it means.

          BORIS
You couldn't have known what she
was going to write.

          JONATHAN
I approved Henry Miller as her
author. I gave her the assignment
early. She said it was inspired by
me and her.
Fuck, this is so bad.

          BORIS
Was it?

          JONATHAN
Was it what?

          BORIS
Inspired by the two of you.

          JONATHAN
How can you ask me that?

          BORIS
Look, I know you haven't dipped
your wick in a while and along
comes this attractive, intelligent
girl who thinks you invented the
fucking Oxford comma - you spend
lots of time together, she's
obviously your favorite - I mean,
you like her. I wouldn't blame you
if you had a little thing.
                                                           95.


                     JONATHAN
          A little thing? That's completely
          insane, you know that right? You
          really think I would have an affair
          with a student? Jesus, she's only
          seventeen.

                    BORIS
          And it's not that different from
          eighteen.

                    JONATHAN
          Yes the hell it is. One is legal
          and one is not.

                    BORIS
          Don't tell me you haven't thought
          about it.

                                                FLASH TO:

Cairo's lips wrap around a cigarette. She laughs with it
between her teeth.

                       JONATHAN
          I haven't.

                    BORIS
          You're a fucking liar.

                    JONATHAN
          What do you want me to say? That I
          think she's beautiful - that I
          fantasize about being with her?

                       BORIS
          Do you?

                    JONATHAN
          What difference does it make?

                    BORIS
          Because it's completely possible
          that you misled her.

                                                FLASH TO:

Cairo and Jonathan laughing with Boris in the morning.

                    JONATHAN
          No. No way.
                                                        96.


                    BORIS
          You're good to her, man. You treat
          her like she's our equal. You treat
          her like an adult.

                                                FLASH TO:

Cairo and Jonathan in his classroom, talking after class.

                    JONATHAN
          That was never my intention.

                    BORIS
          Are you sure?

                    JONATHAN
          Yes I'm fucking sure.

                    BORIS
          I just think you have to examine
          your own actions before you go
          accusing a kid of going after you.
          And c'mon, this is Cairo, we're
          talking about here - she's as
          threatening as buttered toast.

                                                FLASH TO:

Cairo smiles. What once was sweet is now sinister.

                    JONATHAN
          You'd have to have read the story.
          It was fetishistic. The fact that
          she has that kind of stuff rolling
          around in her brain is unsettling
          at best. The idea that she wrote it
          about us, that she told me she did,
          is beyond perception.

                    BORIS
          I think it turns you on.

                    JONATHAN
          No.

                                                FLASH TO:

Cairo brings a cigarette to her lips.
                                      97.


          BORIS
You're rolling out all these
diatribes about how bad it is, but
if I'm being real, it sounds a
little like you've got a case of
the Gertudes.

            JONATHAN
The what?

          BORIS
Methinks thou doth protest too
much.

          JONATHAN
Quit telling me what the fuck you
think I think.

          BORIS
You want me to lie to you?

          JONATHAN
I can't have this conversation with
you.

          BORIS
Because you know I'm right. You
don't want me to be because it
fucks up your idealistic little
interpretation of yourself, but I'm
right.

          JONATHAN
This isn't about how I feel it's
about what she implies - you
realize people get crucified for
shit like this? You realize I could
be a sex-offender.

          BORIS
Velcro-shoed unmarked van drivers,
maybe. Not guys like you, Jon.

          JONATHAN
Guys like me - guys like me go
down while guys like you are
looking at naked pictures of your
students.
                                                         98.


                    BORIS
          Oh you're so fucking lofty, aren't
          you. So righteous. You think you're
          any different?

                                                  FLASH TO:

Jonathan leans over Cairo's desk to look over something she's
written. Their faces are close.

                    JONATHAN
          I am.

                    BORIS
          Your defensiveness speaks for
          itself, you fucking hypocrite.
          You're worried she's into you and
          now it's gone too far? Well so
          sorry for you, man. You did this.
          You instigated it.

                    JONATHAN
          Enough. Fucking enough.

Jonathan leaves Boris sitting on the bleachers.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - EARLY AFTERNOON - SAME DAY

Daylight pours into Cairo's bedroom from an open window. Her
bare feet stand in front of her mirror, her hand hangs by her
thigh, lit cigarette between her fingers. She brings the
cigarette to her lips and stares at herself, her face devoid
of emotion.

In the reflection we see her open laptop in the background.
An online application for STANFORD UNIVERSITY is open, cursor
blinking.


INT. JONATHAN MILLER'S CLASSROOM - LAST PERIOD OF THE DAY

Jonathan is sitting at his desk, head in his hand as he
grades with the other. The classroom is full, save for one
desk in the middle back. Cairo's.

The rest of the class is watching GOOD MORNING, MISS DOVE.

The bell rings and everyone leaves but Winnie.

He looks up at her briefly, then back down at his papers.

                    JONATHAN
          What can I do for you Miss Black?
                                                           99.


                    WINNIE
          Have you seen Cairo?

                       JONATHAN
          I haven't.

                    WINNIE
          I'm surprised she hasn't come by.

Jonathan's pen hesitates, only a moment.

                    WINNIE (CONT'D)
          I haven't seen her in a few days. I
          thought maybe...maybe you had.

                    JONATHAN
          I haven't seen her to talk to her.

                    WINNIE
          Oh you don't text or anything?

                    JONATHAN
          Did she tell you we do?

                    WINNIE
          Um, no. I mean not really.

                    JONATHAN
          Did she tell you that we - what has
          she said that we do?

                    WINNIE
          Well, you know. Cairo's good at
          saying everything and nothing.

He considers this.

                       JONATHAN
          Winnie...

He's at a loss. So is she.

                    JONATHAN (CONT'D)
          What is happening?

                    WINNIE
          I don't know anymore.

They both look at one another. Desperation separates and
unifies them.
                                                       100.


INT. JOYCE MANNER'S OFFICE - LATER THAT DAY

Joyce sits behind her desk. Her educational diplomas and a
framed photo of her, her husband, and two teenage daughters
hang on the wall.

INTERCUT between JONATHAN and JOYCE and CAIRO and JOYCE - two
separate conversations that feel like one.

                    CAIRO
          Mr. Miller asked me to write it.

                    JOYCE
          Is that true?

Jonathan looks uncomfortable.

                    JONATHAN
          Well, yes and no. The assignment
          was to write a short story in the
          style of their favorite authors. So
          yes, I asked her to do the
          assignment but I didn't specify the
          content.

                    JOYCE
          And the mid-term is what percentage
          of the final grade?

                    JONATHAN
          Twenty percent.

                    JOYCE
          Henry Miller is not an approved
          author for public school studies.

                    CAIRO
          We're both big fans of his work.
          Jonathan - I'm sorry - Mr. Miller
          is enthusiastic about his work.

                    JONATHAN
          I'm sorry do you have any water?

                    JOYCE
          How often do you see one another?

                    CAIRO
          I haven't been feeling well, so
          recently not so much. But we used
          to see each other all the time
          before school. And in class, of
          course. And sometimes after school.
                                                101.


                    JOYCE
          Do you smoke cigarettes?

                    JONATHAN
          Yes. Is that relevant?

                    JOYCE
          Do you smoke together?

                    CAIRO
          Oh yeah, all the time. Usually
          really early in the mornings before
          class.

                    JONATHAN
          We have smoked cigarettes together.
          Yes, on - on the grounds. I mean,
          we just happened to be in the same
          place, smoking a cigarette. That's
          how it started. Not that there's
          anything - I mean that's how we
          started smoking together. I'm not
          explaining this properly

Jonathan is sweating.

                    JOYCE
          Do you see each other socially?

                    CAIRO
          Sometimes, at his behest.

                    JONATHAN
          Absolutely not.

                    JOYCE
          Would you consider yourselves
          close?

                    CAIRO
          Mr. Miller's very involved.

                    JONATHAN
          God, I'm sorry. I just have the
          worst cotton mouth.

                    JOYCE
          Have you ever seen each other
          outside of school?

                    CAIRO
          He came to my house once.
                                      102.


          JONATHAN
No. Well, yes. Sort of. It's so
stupid. I suppose I had
accidentally picked up her phone on
my way out of class. I was just
dropping it off.

          JOYCE
Were you alone?

          JONATHAN
My wife was supposed to go with me
but she, um - didn't.

          CAIRO
My parents were out of town.

          JOYCE
And what did you do?

          JONATHAN
Did she tell you we did something?

          CAIRO
We...discussed the assignment.

          JOYCE
You were in the house together,
alone?

           CAIRO
He was pretty specific about what
he wanted.

          JONATHAN
We didn't -- it's not like that.
Nothing happened.

          CAIRO
Will this effect my standing as
valedictorian?

          JONATHAN
    (flustered)
What did she tell you? That I
encouraged this?

          CAIRO
Mr. Miller's recommendation is so
important for my application to
Stanford...I just...I really wanted
to impress him.
                                                          103.


                     JONATHAN
          I'm not yelling, I'm just
          incredibly frustrated. But you're -
          I'm sorry.

                    CAIRO
          I have everything riding on my
          grade in this class.

                    JONATHAN
          Joyce, be real with me. How bad is
          this?

                    CAIRO
          I don't want to cause any trouble.

                    JONATHAN
          If I could just talk to her, if I
          could just-

                      CAIRO
          May I go?

                    JONATHAN
          To protect her. From me. Right.


INT. JONATHAN'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT

Jonathan leans against the sink. Beatrice stands in the
doorway, holding a stack of paper.

                    JONATHAN
          I didn't sleep with her.

                    BEATRICE
          You were in her house.

                    JONATHAN
          It was raining.

                    BEATRICE
          Why didn't she just bring it out to
          you?

                    JONATHAN
          We were discussing the assignment.

                    BEATRICE
          In her house.

                      JONATHAN
          Yes.
                                     104.


           BEATRICE
You can tell me. If you fucked her
I'd rather you tell me than find
out later.

          JONATHAN
I've never touched her.

          BEATRICE
You've been suspended.

             JONATHAN
I know.

          BEATRICE
The ramifications from this - not
only for you, but for me, for my
career - are completely
devastating, did you think about
that?

          JONATHAN
Do you hear yourself? Can you try
not to be so self-centered for two
seconds? Jesus.

          BEATRICE
This doesn't effect just you.

          JONATHAN
You think I don't know that?

          BEATRICE
Your actions say otherwise.

          JONATHAN
I don't know if I'll ever work in
another school in this city again.
The scandal alone for being
suspended is practically career
suicide - even if I'm acquitted,
the idea that I could have done
what she said - that's all anyone
will see, I'll always be
suspicious.

          BEATRICE
Then I guess you should try not to
look so fucking guilty.

             JONATHAN
Excuse me?
                                                105.


                    BEATRICE
          You let that little bitch take you
          inside. Are you actually that
          stupid?

                    JONATHAN
          You obviously think so.

                    BEATRICE
          What the fuck else would I think?
          Now we're going to have to get a
          lawyer that we certainly can't
          afford--

                    JONATHAN
          Well you won't have to worry about
          that. They've given me a lawyer.

She laughs, quietly.

                    BEATRICE
          Jon, what the fuck.

                    JONATHAN
          And this is exactly what I was
          worried about, isn't it? I told you
          I was concerned, and you completely
          dismissed it.

                    BEATRICE
          No I didn't.

                    JONATHAN
          Yes, you did.

                    BEATRICE
          I wasn't trying to diminish your
          concerns.

                    JONATHAN
          Of course you weren't because you
          couldn't be bothered, could you?
          God forbid you take an interest in
          something other than your precious
          novel, God forbid you take an
          interest in anything but you.

                    BEATRICE
              (vicious)
          You wanna know the truth of it,
          Jon? I wasn't concerned about it
          because I really just don't give a
          fuck.
                                                106.


Beat.

                    BEATRICE (CONT'D)
          You're the banner boy of mediocrity
          waving your flag of spotless virtue
          like some kind of middling American
          hero - You are insufferably
          pedestrian. What would I possibly
          worry about other than dying of
          boredom having to listen to your
          inventions of conflict?

She's cut him deep.

                    JONATHAN
          How can you say that?

                    BEATRICE
          How can you not see it?

                    JONATHAN
          I didn't invent this.

                    BEATRICE
          Give yourself more credit, baby.
          You made it all the way in her
          house on a rainy afternoon. It
          writes itself.

                    JONATHAN
          WHY ARE YOU PUNISHING ME?

                    BEATRICE
          Did her sycophancy get you hard or
          was it the smell of teen spirit?

                    JONATHAN
          Oh very grown up, Beatrice.

                    BEATRICE
          Explain the parallels in this
          story, Jonathan. The harpy wife?
          The fucking tampons? She knew I was
          on my period.
              (she throws the papers at
               him)
          Explain this. Explain how this girl
          got so easily confused about your
          relationship because it looks fishy
          as fuck.

                    JONATHAN
          I don't know.
                                      107.


          BEATRICE
That's not good enough.

          JONATHAN
It doesn't matter how she got there
- she's a straight A student and a
girl and extra fun, her parents are
both attorneys.

          BEATRICE
No. You don't get to be the victim
in this.

          JONATHAN
Jesus, I am the victim.

          BEATRICE
Oh, you are? You're victim to a
seventeen year old girl?

          JONATHAN
I know how it sounds.

          BEATRICE
It sounds like you're lying.

          JONATHAN
She was my friend.

          BEATRICE
Your friend. You're a grown ass
man. What business did you have
befriending a seventeen year old?
Did you text her? Did you kick it
at the arcade?

          JONATHAN
WOULD YOU HAVE EVEN NOTICED?

          BEATRICE
I suppose it's my fault, is it? I'm
the negligent wife who was so busy
doing the thing you can't that you
had to go stick your dick in a
child to feel like a man again? You
selfish fuck.
                                      108.


          JONATHAN
No, you're a text-book narcissist
who treats this relationship like
an autocracy while I run around
behind you hoping one day you'll
notice for once that I'm your
fucking husband and not your errand
boy.

          BEATRICE
Oh how your self-sacrifice moves
me. You're such a goddamn martyr,
Jon.

          JONATHAN
Don't.

           BEATRICE
This isn't about the forfeits of
your wonderful fucking life, GEORGE
BAILEY, this is about some bitch
who flattered you, who read your
little book and your inevitable
surrender to adulation. God, are
you so starved for approval?
What does that say to you?
You fucking fell for it.
Finally, finally someone read your
reductive little short stories and
you can't help but get hard for it
because you suddenly feel worth
something?

          JONATHAN
YES, SHE MADE ME FEEL WORTH
SOMETHING, WHAT DOES THAT TELL YOU?

          BEATRICE
I feel sorry for you. I really do.
For your insufficiency, for the
ruin of your precious fucking
morality. You're just so...effete.

          JONATHAN
Stop.

          BEATRICE
Why should I? Did you?

          JONATHAN
I DIDN'T FUCK HER.

          BEATRICE
I DON'T BELIEVE YOU.
                                                       109.


                    JONATHAN
          CAN YOU STOP ATTACKING ME FOR TWO
          FUCKING SECONDS? I DIDN'T FUCK HER.
          I NEVER TOUCHED HER. I barely
          understand how this happened,
          something I'm trying my hardest to
          expiate and you just won't give me
          a fucking break.
          I need someone on my side Beatrice,
          because this is going to be bleak.
          So do you think you can be a big
          girl and get your goddamn
          priorities in order and remember
          your fucking vows? Do you think you
          can do that? Because if we're going
          to try to figure this out, I'm
          going to need you to not be such a
          self-righteous fucking cunt.

Beatrice and Jonathan stand off.

                       BEATRICE
          I'm sorry.

                       JONATHAN
          Are you?

                    BEATRICE
          I'm a self-preservationist.

                    JONATHAN
          That's not the same thing. Try
          harder, Beatrice.

                    BEATRICE
          I'm sorry this happened.

Jonathan looks at her, expecting more but it's all she can
offer. He is entirely defeated. He sits down and stares at
nothing.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - LATER THAT EVENING

Cairo is sitting on her bed, leaning against the wall, hand
writing on a legal pad in red ink. She smokes and ashes into
a coke can. Winnie enters without knocking.

                    CAIRO
          Sure. Come on in.

                    WINNIE
          Where have you been?
                                      110.


          CAIRO
I have been...
    (she writes)
...one acquainted with the night.

             WINNIE
What?

          CAIRO
I have walked out in rain, and back
in rain, I have out-walked the
furthest city light.

          WINNIE
Robert Frost?

          CAIRO
Yeah, thanks for that. You just
inspired the opening for my essay.

             WINNIE
Essay.

          CAIRO
Yes, Winnie. For Stanford?

          WINNIE
Oh you're just working on your
essay? That all?

          CAIRO
I'm smoking a cigarette too, if you
wish to be very literal.

             WINNIE
Answer me.

          CAIRO
Question me.

          WINNIE
Don't be a bitch. Why are you
avoiding me?

          CAIRO
It hasn't been with any great
effort, I assure you.

          WINNIE
You won't return my phone calls.

          CAIRO
I've been busy.
                                       111.


          WINNIE
Clearly. What are you doing to Mr.
Miller?

          CAIRO
I'm testifying against him.

          WINNIE
Why?

          CAIRO
Oh you didn't hear? I've been
victimized.

          WINNIE
Like fuck you have.

          CAIRO
He exploited my trust and abused my
faith in him as a teacher.

          WINNIE
Are you reciting a rape pamphlet to
me?

          CAIRO
I think they call it sexual battery
by an authority figure.

          WINNIE
You sound like a PSA.

          CAIRO
Jonathan Miller asked me personally
to write a special short story for
the midterm - one that he wanted to
proofread himself. He told me to
write in the style of my favorite
author, who as it turns out, is
Henry Miller. I requested his
permission to do so, and he was
enthusiastic about the idea. So
much so, that he came personally to
my house to pick it up -- came in my
house, in my bedroom. Jonathan
Miller deliberately procured an
inappropriate relationship with me,
his student. Come to think of it,
it might also be aggravated sexual
exploitation of a minor. Six of
one, half dozen of another, right?

          WINNIE
That's...that's a fucking lie.
                                       112.


          CAIRO
What would you like me to say?

             WINNIE
The truth.

          CAIRO
I'm telling the truth.

          WINNIE
Your version of it.

          CAIRO
Is there another version?

          WINNIE
This isn't funny, Cairo.

          CAIRO
Am I laughing, Winnie?

          WINNIE
You can't take do this.

           CAIRO
Watch me.
    (she looks at her pad and
     recites)
"In the end, ultimately, I
understood the severity of our
actions. Our mutual naiveté, my
trust and his arrogance, exposed us
to the caprices of modern society
and rendered us defeated, suddenly
alone in separate camps. I stand
firm in mine, burdened and acutely
aware that my puerile conceptions
about adult relationships were just
that -- the infantile notions of the
American girl, learned early and
perpetuated into an unhappy
adulthood. I cannot say whether or
not I am grateful for the
experience, for the knowledge; is
ignorance truly bliss, even at the
expense of personal happiness? The
answer evades me. The felicity of
youth has been ripped from me like
skin, and exposed as I am, sore and
open as I am, I can feel the growth
of something new over me, like
armor. And it will serve me as both
shield and weapon."
                                                113.


                    WINNIE
              (reeling)
          You created this.

                    CAIRO
          I engendered it, certainly.

                    WINNIE
          This is really fucked up. Even for
          you.

                    CAIRO
          Even for me...what does that mean,
          Winnie? Even for me.

                    WINNIE
          You know what it means. You're so
          unassuming that you think no one's
          watching you creep under them like
          a fucking virus, taking what you
          want and decimating everything
          else.
          You're going to ruin his life. And
          for what? To avenge your rejection?
          To punish him because he didn't
          want to fuck you?

Cairo lights another cigarette.

                    CAIRO
              (singing)
          I've got no strings to hold me
          down, there are no strings on me.

                    WINNIE
          I'll testify against you.

                    CAIRO
          No you won't.

                       WINNIE
          Excuse me?

                    CAIRO
          I'll show them what evidence I have
          against you and Boris and not only
          will your credibility be shot to
          shit, but you'll incriminate him as
          well. Two teachers can lose their
          jobs. Oh hey...we could double
          team.

                    WINNIE
          This isn't what I meant.
                                                       114.


                    CAIRO
          Isn't it? Haven't I played it out
          exactly like you imagined?

                    WINNIE
          I didn't want this, I would never
          want this for - I was joking -

                    CAIRO
          You weren't joking, you just didn't
          expect me to follow through.

                    WINNIE
          You're a monster. Why are you doing
          this?

                    CAIRO
          Because there is no greater tragedy
          than mediocrity.

                    WINNIE
          The fuck are you talking about?
          This isn't a game.

                    CAIRO
          You're right. It's adversity, and I
          will overcome it.

She turns back to her legal pad. She is in profile against
the wall. We pull back to reveal the wall behind her, which
is Jonathan's hotel bathroom. They lean against each other in
different spaces and times.


INT. HOTEL BATHROOM - NASHVILLE - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Close in on Jonathan, who sits with his back against the
door, red pen in hand, reading Cairo's short story. As before
with Cairo, we look up at him from the page and watch the
text project onto his face and in the air around him.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          Mr. Murphy drove with the
          resignation of the already dead. He
          imagined he felt the way Dylan
          Thomas did heading into the White
          Horse to take the drink that would
          kill him. He knew what they were
          and what they were not.

Slow close on the blue of his eye - in the reflection of his
pupil we see the story playing out, the slow drizzle of rain
and a dark haired girl standing at an open window. Closer and
closer until we're there...
                                                       115.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - SHORT STORY - FANTASY

The dark haired girl looks out the window. Behind her, the
room glows faintly with the soft diffused gray light of a
rainy afternoon.

The window is open and fat rain drops smack against the sill.
We hear a car pull into the driveway.

Rain splashes her hand. Her cell phone rings and she answers.

The quoted text appears with a blinking cursor. We see what
she sees.

                    CAIRO
          "Hello", she said.

                      JONATHAN (V.O.)
          I'm here.

                      CAIRO (V.O.)
          Alice thought immediately of a
          slaughtering lamb, though she
          couldn't be certain which of them
          was meant for sacrifice.
Close on a water droplet landing on the white windowsill
into...


INT. HOTEL BATHROOM - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

A drop of water from the running bath has landed on the page
Jonathan is reading. He wipes at it and the ink runs.

His face is unreadable, his pen unmoving.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          He was outside. He was inside.

Jonathan blinks.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - SHORT STORY - FANTASY

When his eyes open, he stands before her in her bedroom, bag
in hand.

The text floats over what we see, a reenactment of the story.

                    CAIRO
          "You gonna plug a dam?" She said,
          noting the drugstore bag filled
          with tampons.
                                                          116.


                    JONATHAN
          "I thought this was a fashionable
          gift for young ladies." He said.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          She laughed at him. With him. Their
          rapport was effortless.
              (she puts a cigarette in
               her mouth)
           "You want one?"

The flame and Cairo are reflected in Jonathan's pupils.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          Smoke drifted from her mouth with
          practiced effort - something she'd
          picked up in some obscure noir
          she'd watched with her mother.
                    JONATHAN
          It excites you, doesn't it? The
          surreptitiousness of it all.

                    CAIRO
          Is it more romantic for you that
          way?
          Mr. Murphy smiled wide, the lines
          around his mouth deepening into
          parentheses that framed his perfect
          lips into a punch line.
Jonathan's face fills the frame, looking right at us.

                    JONATHAN
          This is no romance. I'm sorry to
          disappoint you.

He snatches her wrist and the cigarette falls to the floor,
spewing ash and spark from its tip before being crushed with
her shoe.


INT. HOTEL BATHROOM - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Jonathan's eyes scan the page. He shifts on the floor.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          Alice opened her mouth to say
          something, but the words fell away.
          Mr. Murphy loomed over her, his
          Cadillacblue eyes hungry and
          bored.
                                                       117.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - SHORT STORY - FANTASY

CU on Jonathan's mouth as the dialogue spells itself out of
his mouth.

                    JONATHAN
          In what peril you find yourself.

CU on Jonathan's face close to Cairo's. We don't see their
legs, but we see them shift.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          He pressed the knee of his starched
          chinos into the space between her
          legs.
                    JONATHAN
          I want you to read to me.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          Alice watched in slow motion as Mr.
          Murphy's tongue undulated when he
          spoke - pink tide against the bone
          shore of his teeth.
                    JONATHAN
          Read it to me the way you read it
          to yourself.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          Their bodies separated like a
          single cell splitting.

ECU on Cairo's sticky glossed lips separating in slow motion.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          Alice took the tattered Henry
          Miller paperback off of the
          bedside table and spread it open on
          the comforter of her bed.
CU on a large framed print of Virginia Woolf - the last
portrait taken of her, smoking a cigarette. In the reflection
of the glass, we watch Cairo lean over the book and bed.
Jonathan stands behind her.

                    JONATHAN
          "Page thirteen", he said, behind
          her. One hand slid up the front of
          Alice's short cotton dress, as the
          other pointed to a sentence on the
          page. "Begin here."
                                                       118.


                    CAIRO
          Alice recited. "It's not because
          she's a child, it's because she's a
          child with no innocence."


INT. HOTEL BATHROOM - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Jonathan slips his hand into his pajama pants.


INT. CAIRO'S BEDROOM - SHORT STORY - FANTASY

A spider crawls across a window sill.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          He was against her then and Alice
          felt a push of muscular wetness
          between her legs. Mr. Murphy placed
          his slender hand over hers and
          guided her to the mound at her
          center, pressing her fingers into
          the dark fold there--
Fingers move over white fabric.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          just behind the damp fabric of her
          panties, feeling her feel herself.
                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          He found his way around the elastic
          at her leg and slid two deft
          fingers into the warm darkness of
          her virgin cunt. "Keep reading", he
          said.
CU on Cairo's mouth as she reads. CU on Jonathan's mouth as
he listens.

                    CAIRO
              (reciting)
          "Look into her eyes and you see the
          monster of knowledge, the shadow of
          wisdom--"

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          She felt him shift, his weight
          suddenly very low. He kissed her
          ass through her dress, pressed his
          face to it.
                                                       119.


                    CAIRO
              (reciting)
          "-the roundness and shapelessness
          of childhood have scarcely left her
          body. She is a woman in miniature,
          a copy as yet incomplete."

INTERCUT between the hotel bathroom and Cairo's short story.
Images of the real Cairo, Jonathan, Beatrice, Boris and
Winnie begin to blend with what he sees.

Jonathan's hand is on her bare thigh.

CU on Cairo's hands resting between her legs under her desk.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          A thousand years of violence and
          conquering boiled within him as he
          held the mouth of her pubis like a
          hooked fish, a thing gasping for
          release, for mercy, for death.
Close on the back of Cairo's neck and Jonathan's open mouth
against it.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          Alice stopped reading.
Cairo's hands grip the comforter.

CU on a half-eaten muffin. An ant is picking away pieces of
it.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          Her gullet tightened as he went
          deeper within -- searching for the
          answer to a question he'd doubted--

                   CAIRO (V.O.)
          but there it was--

Jonathan is masturbating in the bathroom.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          -the answer and the question
          separated by that thin fleshy veil--
          the cicatrix that will never heal-

Blots of dark red ink drop onto a thick white page.

Winnie, wearing no make up, uses a fine watercolor paintbrush
to thin out the ink in a long slender stroke.
                                                       120.


                   CAIRO (V.O.)
          the serpent's apple.

The spider crawls onto the bed.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          He would renounce everything he
          believed in for a taste of her. He
          would abandon all of his burdens--

Beatrice sucks a raw oyster out of its shell.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          The impassive harpy wife, the
          marginalization-

CU on Beatrice's hands as she uses Apostrophes & Ampersands
as a coaster for her bourbon.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          The ethics, the abstemiousness--

Cairo watches Jonathan with his back to us, standing at a
blackboard. She sits at her desk and scratches a raw mosquito
bite on her ankle with her other foot.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          All surrendered and sacrificed to
          the seduction of subjugation.

Cairo's earring is tangled in her hair.

Jonathan masturbates in the shower while Beatrice brushes her
teeth at the sink.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          He peeled the wet cotton down her
          legs and pressed into her from
          behind, the width of his face
          forcing her legs apart at their
          seam. Her cul was slick against his
          chin--

Jonathan presses Cairo's bare shoulders onto the bed, his
fingers splayed wide over her blades as her hair fans out
above her. The muscles in her back shiver as he moves against
her.

                    CAIRO (V.O.)
          Just as he imagined it was when she
          was alone, maybe in her bedroom--

The spider crawls across Cairo's pillow.
                                                          121.


Boris and Winnie pass in the hall. Neither looks at the
other.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          Maybe in a bathroom stall at
          school, her own fingers knuckle
          deep - trying to rub out that itch

A pair of shoes under a bathroom stall, panties stretched
around the ankles.

                    CAIRO/JONATHAN (V.O.)
          The ache inside.

Jonathan's face against Cairo's.

Wide shot of the hotel room. Jonathan with his back to us
against the frosted glass bathroom door. Beatrice sits in
bed, typing. Separate worlds.

                    JONATHAN (V.O.)
          He saw himself burying his cock in
          her, brutally fucking away the
          exigency that swelled her clit and
          choked her better judgements. He
          would fill her up with come.

CU on Cairo's eye. Reflected in it is the spider, crawling
across the sheets.


INT. HOTEL BATHROOM - NIGHT - FLASHBACK

Jonathan comes.

He sits there a moment, the papers and red pen beside him. He
closes his eyes.

THE LIGHTS IN THE BATHROOM ARE SUDDENLY BRIGHT AND AUSTERE.
He opens his eyes to...


EXT. COURTHOUSE - MORNING

Jon sits alone on a bench outside. He lights a cigarette.

Cairo walks toward him, her parents in tow. She wears a
skirt, sweater and keds, and looks terribly young. She waves
to him. A slow, sad smile spreads across her face.

                       CAIRO (V.O.)
          Checkmate.

END.

Miller's Girl



Writers :   Jade Halley Bartlett
Genres :   Comedy  Drama


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