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Episode No. 20 - Aftershocks

written by E.R. Holdridge (Shobi)

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About this story

Published: 31 Jul 1997 | Size: 79 KB (14784 words) | Language: english | Rating: PG-13
Average: 4.4/5   4.4/5 (125 votes)

based on stories and characters created by Winnie Holzman

Black Screen-- "The Next Day"

INT.CHASE HOME--Late Afternoon (Flashback)

Young Angela, Young Sharon, and Young Brian (around age 9-11) are playing a board game on the floor of the Chase living room. It is raining outside, and there are a lot of smiles and laughter.

YOUNG SHARON: (shaking her head) No, Brian, if you don’t get doubles by the third roll, you *have* to pay to get out of jail!

Young Brian looks at Young Sharon skeptically and looks over at Young Angela, who nods. Brian then hands Sharon his money. Patty enters, looking younger, with her hair still very long.

PATTY: Okay kids, it’s getting late, and we’ll be eating soon. . .

YOUNG ANGELA: Mom, can’t Sharon and Brian stay over again tonight? Please?

All three children look up at Patty pleadingly and expectantly.

PATTY: (smiling indulgently) Angela, they just stayed over last night. And you and Sharon stayed at the Krakow’s last weekend. Haven’t you had enough of each other yet?

YOUNG ANGELA: (seriously) No. I mean, we should get used to it. When we grow up we’re all going to have a room together. (to the other two) Aren’t we?

Sharon smiles beatifically and says "Yes" and Brian nods rather solemnly.

PATTY: (amused) Well all right, you can both stay for dinner at least, and I’ll call your mothers to see if you can stay over, (much more sternly--as if scolding) But--we’ll all have to get up early tomorrow for church, so I don’t want you three to think you’re going to stay up ‘til all hours again. . . (she walks off to the kitchen).

The three kids smile at each other as if they have gotten away with something.

YOUNG SHARON: Hey, do you guys really think we’ll really be able to live together when we grow up?

YOUNG BRIAN: (shrugging) Sure, adults can do anything they want.

YOUNG SHARON: That’s not what I meant.

YOUNG ANGELA: Well, we’re always going to be best friends right ?

Brian nods, agreeing. Sharon looks exasperated.

YOUNG SHARON: Yes, of *course* we will, but, I mean, you said we’ll share a room. But, I’m used to having my *own* room. Maybe we should share a house.

PATTY: (Off Screen) Angela, dinner’s ready.

The kids are laughing excitedly together planning their "house" as the screen fades to black and we hear Patty yell "Angela" again.

INT.CHASE LIVING ROOM--Morning (Present Day)

Fade in to a shot of Angela standing silently behind her couch staring at the place that she and her friends had played.

PATTY: (OS) (loudly and out of patience) *Angela*! You are going to be late.

Angela looks in the direction of the kitchen, hefts her backpack, and heads out the front door.

PATTY: (entering from dining room, looking down, using a dishrag to swab at some Patty-imagined stain on her blouse--not realizing Angela has left) Are you waiting for Jordan to pick you up? I finally met him last night. He seemed very. . . (she looks up and finally notices that Angela has gone--she sighs) . . . here.


Angela walks up the steps and into the school. It is a dreary February day.

ANGELA: (Voice-Over) I think back to the way my life used to be before everything started to change and wonder if I really knew people as well as I thought I did. . .

She walks through the metal detectors and sees Brian Krakow walking up to his locker.

ANGELA: (VO) . . . or whether I never really knew them at all.

Angela is standing still just inside the metal detectors just inside doorway of the school. She watches Brian at his locker as if willing him to turn and look at her. He does not, finishes his business at his locker, closes it and walks off in the other direction. Angela walks down the hall toward her own locker. As she begins the combination, she looks over and sees Rayanne Graf talking to Sharon Cherski--they are talking in low tones, conspiratorially.

ANGELA: (VO) For the first time in a long time I think I know what Sharon and Brian were going through while I was so. . . consumed. . .with the changes in my own life, always thinking I was the only one who was changing.

Angela puts her bag in her locker, grabs a couple of books, closes the locker and walks past Rayanne and Sharon. Sharon has her back to Angela and Rayanne does not seem to notice her.

ANGELA: (VO) Now I understand just how Sharon felt when I started hanging around with Rayanne Graf--ignored, and like, obsolete.

Angela turns the corner, heading for the girls’ room. She sees Brian waiting to get a drink at the fountain.

ANGELA: (VO) And I finally *get* why Brian Krakow was so angry when I used him, or at least his house, to meet Jordan Catalano. And why no matter how mad he is at me, or how mean I am to him, he always helps me when I ask him for some outrageous favor. It’s because I’m, like, *his* Jordan Catalano. (pause) And that means that I made him feel as bad as Jordan made me feel.

Brian finishes drinking, and straightens up. He turns, and sees Angela by the bathroom. He looks over at her with an earnest and hopeful expression.

ANGELA: (VO) So, now I understand both these things, but I somehow kinda wish that I didn’t. (She looks down at her feet and enters the girls’ bathroom)


Rickie Vasquez and Delia Fisher are standing at the sink engaged in what must be, judging from their facial expressions, an important debate of some sort.

DELIA: But I just think she comes off as a little too severe sometimes. And bossy.

RICKIE: No, I totally disagree, she’s a great role model for girls--for anyone--she shows that you can be pretty but still be smart and successful and in control. . . (seeing Angela come in, smiling at her) Hey, Angela.

Rickie and Delia stop talking and look at Angela. Angela still looks somewhat upset, but nods at them in greeting.

ANGELA: Who are you guys talking about? Hillary Clinton, or Sharon Cherski?

Rickie and Delia look at each other and break out laughing.

DELIA: Actually we were talking about Lois Lane. . .

RICKIE: (interrupting) You know, that girl Teri Hatcher on Lois & Clark? Delia thinks she plays Lois Lane too nasty, but I like her.

ANGELA: Oh. (fidgeting, uncomfortable, not looking at Delia) Rickie, can I talk to you for a minute. Like, in private. (stressing the last word and glancing pointedly at Delia).

DELIA: (getting the point) Well, Rickie, I should go. Are we still going to eat lunch together today?

RICKIE: (a little self-consciously) Sure, I said we would. I’ll see you in History.

DELIA: I’ll just wait for you outside. (she gives Rickie a quick peck on the cheek and gives one of her little throaty giggles) (to Angela) Bye.

ANGELA: Yeah, bye. (going to the corner sink and looking in the mirror) I didn’t know you two knew each other that well.

RICKIE: (blushing slightly) Well she is involved in Drama Club, and last night after you left Katimski’s, she and I got to talking. She’s really a good person. Y’know, to talk to. . . She understands . . .things. . . . (he trails off) (concerned) Are you okay?

ANGELA: (setting her mouth into a straight line, dully) I guess. (shot of Angela toying with her hair) (VO) It seems like Delia Fisher is always getting obsessed with some guy in *my* life. Like it’s compulsive. (she looks directly at Rickie, spoken aloud) So, you’re eating lunch with her?

RICKIE: (smiling, as if trying to cheer Angela out of her mood) Yeah, I mean, she’s friends with Sharon and you two have been hanging out again recently, and I thought that we could all eat together. . . or something. (Angela only nods, the bell rings, and Rickie gathers up his stuff) C’mon Angela, we’re going to be late for class. (she doesn’t move, she just stands there leaning in the corner by the window, looking at the mirror) Don’t you have Katimski this period? You don’t want to miss that.

ANGELA: I can’t go to Katimski’s. Not with *him* there.

RICKIE: (worried) Who? Jordan? (Angela doesn’t acknowledge the name) Or do you mean Brian?

ANGELA: Either one. . . both together.

RICKIE: (gets closer to Angela) Angela, did something happen? With Brian?

Angela turns to him, she has tears in her eyes. Before she can speak, the bathroom door bursts open and Delia pops her head in.

DELIA: Rickie! We’re going to be late for history, c’mon!

RICKIE: (to Angela) Are you going to be okay?

ANGELA: (embarrassed to be seen like this by Delia, wiping the side of her cheek and eye, to keep from crying) Sure, go ahead, you’ll be late.

RICKIE: (Over his shoulder as he is pulled by Delia out the door) But we’ll talk later right? Right?

ANGELA: (falsely, brightly) Sure! (softly, dejectedly, looking back at mirror) Later.


Inside the Wood & Jones Printing office. Patty is sitting at her desk juggling some papers and the phone, she looks frazzled, but is smiling that forced smile that she often uses.

PATTY: No, I don’t think that is the way you want to go with this job. You would be better served by the offset look, in my humble opinion. (she listens to the phone, nodding her head) No, it’s no problem, I understand your concern, but I really think you’ll end up happier this way. (pause) No, thank *you*. (hangs up)

Patty is startled by clapping coming from the doorway. She looks over to see Graham standing there with a big brown paper bag in his hands.

GRAHAM: You could always get people to do things your way. And worse, then make them thank you for it--I guess that’s why you’re the boss.

PATTY: (looking at her watch, and then shaking her head) Graham, I totally forgot. I was supposed to meet you at the restaurant site, for lunch, wasn’t I?

GRAHAM: Yes, (nodding) but luckily I know you so well, that I just cooked something that was easy to wrap up to go. (smirking) I told Hallie that I may just be testing out recipes, but it’s a shame to let all that food go to waste.

PATTY: Thank you. You didn’t say much this morning, tell me all the details of the investor dinner.

GRAHAM: (unpacking food) Well, at first it was a little nerve-wracking, I guess, but then they started eating, and I could tell they were all really enjoying it. Finally the head money-man got up and toasted me, (looks proud) the *Chef*!

PATTY: (eating) Well, I knew it would all work out. Didn’t you bring any food for yourself?

GRAHAM: (shrugging) Oh. I ate with Hallie.

PATTY: Oh. (She plays with the food) So, we’re really doing this?

GRAHAM: It looks that way. (looks up) You’re fine with this, right?

PATTY: Of course. I always knew that your cooking would blow them away. We all knew it, me, the kids, and (coolly) Hallie. Everyone but you.

GRAHAM: (smiles at her praise, ignores the Hallie comment, and reaches over with a fork and begins to pick at her meal) Thanks. So how was your night with old what’s his name? You were in bed when I got home. Did he have any good pointers?

PATTY: (suddenly absorbed by the food) Not really. We didn’t end up talking all that long after all. (smiling to herself) I did, however, have another interesting visitor--Jordan Catalano.

GRAHAM: (astonished, food half in his mouth) After what he did with Rayanne? He came over?

PATTY: (nodding) I know. I couldn’t believe it either, but apparently he said something to Angela to get her to forgive him.

GRAHAM: Like what? If I slept with someone else I can’t think of a thing I could say to make you forgive me.

PATTY: (with feigned nonchalance) No, neither can I.

GRAHAM: The nerve of that kid.

PATTY: I know (chewing, thoughtfully) but Graham, I was all set to dislike him. . .

GRAHAM: Him? I’m still not comfortable with the fact that there *is* a "him."

PATTY: I know. What I was saying is that even though I wanted to hate him, at least for Angela’s sake, he really wasn’t all that bad. Charming even. It’s clear that no matter what he and Rayanne did, he still really cares for Angela.

GRAHAM: I’ll bet.

PATTY: No (as if he were clearly misunderstanding her) I mean it. After my talk with him last night, I feel like I can trust him with her. That’s why I let her go out with him last night.

GRAHAM: (shocked) What? On a school night? With Jordan? I thought she was at Katimski’s with Rickie.

PATTY: (defensive) She came back early. I mean, I told Jordan to be sure to bring her back at a decent hour.

GRAHAM: (shaking his head in disbelief) Did you also tell him not to sleep with any more of her best friends? I don’t think she could handle it if he did it with Sharon. . . or even Brian.

PATTY: (choking/laughing) Graham, that’s horrible!

GRAHAM: Well, I wouldn’t put it past him. (pause) He has some sort of spell on Angela and in one evening he’s managed to, I don’t know, bewitch *you* too.

PATTY: (rolling her eyes) Graham it wasn’t like that at all. It was like he came there looking for forgiveness, and someone to talk to. . . (punctuating the point by jabbing with her fork) and food.

GRAHAM: (in overdone shock) You *cooked* for this delinquent?

PATTY: No, I just made him a sandwich and some milk. (she wipes her mouth and brushes imaginary crumbs from her desk). Anyway, he was really very nice. I think we should give him a chance--I mean if Angela gives him a chance. By the way, that was wonderful, what was it?

GRAHAM: (in an affected snobbish voice) It was my attempt to create a duck dish in the a l’orange style that is suitably light for lunch yet manages to capture the decadence of French cuisine.

PATTY: (raising an eyebrow) What are you doing, practicing for interviews with Modern Chef Magazine? (He chuckles) Anyway, it was delicious.

GRAHAM: Thank you. Well, I’ve got to get going. It was nice to see you at lunch again. Kind of reminds me of the old days, when I worked here.

PATTY: Do you miss it?

GRAHAM: (smiles to himself) Not a chance. (Patty looks a bit crestfallen, he hastily adds) I miss you of course, but not Wood & Jones.

PATTY: So what are you up to for the rest of the day?

GRAHAM: I have to go downtown to pick up some things for the restaurant and then later I’m meeting Hallie to go over the final numbers. (looks at watch) In fact, she should be meeting with the investors at the bank right about now.

PATTY: Shouldn’t you be there?

GRAHAM: No Hallie’ll fill me in later.

PATTY: How late will you be?

GRAHAM: Not late at all. I’ll probably beat you home, but definitely before dinner.

PATTY: That’s good. I’ll see you then. (he gets up to leave) And Graham?

GRAHAM: (turning, attentive) Yes?

PATTY: Thanks for bringing me lunch.

GRAHAM: No problem. You know there’s no one I love cooking for more than you. Except. . .

PATTY: (with an edge in her voice) Except who?

GRAHAM: . . .except for cooking for the whole family, the girls are the most brutal food critics I could ask for.

PATTY: (ashamed of her suspicions, smiling to cover) Graham?

GRAHAM: (turning, more impatient than attentive this time) What, Patty?

PATTY: While you’re downtown can you pick up some milk? Jordan drank it all up last night.

GRAHAM: Sure. (with a smirk) Y’know, Patty, if you’re not careful, all this talking about Jordan is going to give me ideas--I’ll have to go out and find some pretty young thing to talk about endlessly, just to compete with you and Angela.

PATTY: (as Graham walks out, half to herself, acidly) Well, we wouldn’t want that, now would we?


The boys locker room is bustling with guys. Brian is mostly finished changing into his street clothes, except that he still has his ugly regulation gym shirt on. Rickie, already back in his clothes and full make-up, walks up to him.

RICKIE: (energetically) Hey!

BRIAN: (with no energy to speak of) Hey.

RICKIE: How are things?

BRIAN: Fine.

RICKIE: I mean, did you talk to Angela like I suggested?

BRIAN: Not quite like you suggested, but yes, for a few seconds.

RICKIE: Because, like, I saw her this morning and she seemed, I don’t know, upset.

BRIAN: I know. I saw her and she wouldn’t even look at me. And she skipped English class, which is, like, *the* class she would never miss. Maybe Jordan said something to her.

RICKIE: Jordan? I thought this was about what *you* said? What *did* you say?

BRIAN: (in his quick, irritated, explaining voice) Well, she told *me* that you told *her* what I told *you*, and I tried to deny that I wrote the letter, but not very well, and so then I basically admitted that I was the one who felt those things, but then Jordan, like, came out of her *house*, and he came over, and they left, so. . . .

RICKIE: Oh. I just thought she had already figured it out by herself.

BRIAN: (ruefully) You’d be surprised how your mind can totally delude itself when you really, (pause, picking word with caution) *care* about someone.

Brian takes off his gym shirt and turns his back toward Rickie to put it in his locker. When he does so, Rickie slowly turns and looks at him. Brian’s back is covered with hideous bruises--deep blue and purple--covering much of his upper back. Rickie’s eyes narrow with empathy.

RICKIE: (alarmed) Brian, what happened to you?

BRIAN: (startled by Rickie’s tone) Nothing. I just stood there with my bike and let her go.

RICKIE: (shaking his head) No, I mean to your back. It’s covered with bruises.

BRIAN: (looks surprised) What? (he tries to look over his shoulder at his back) I honestly don’t know. But I bruise pretty easily. (putting his undershirt on and tucking it in) It must have happened when I fell on my bike the other day.

Brian sighs, sit on the bench, pulls on his dress shirt, and leaving it untucked, starts buttoning it up.

RICKIE: (not convinced and still concerned) Brian, are you all right?

BRIAN: Just tired I guess. I didn’t get much sleep last night. (changing the subject) So, how did it go with Delia? Did you have fun?

RICKIE: Yes, actually. I kind of need to talk to you about that, (looking around at all the other guys) but not here.

BRIAN: It’s okay if you want to go out with her. She seems nice. I wish I had gotten to know her better when I had the chance. Maybe I wouldn’t feel so. . . (he throws his arms out, gesturing to himself) . . .like how I feel right now.

RICKIE: (knowing Brian isn’t quite getting what his reluctance is about) It’s not that--exactly. We should talk later--in private.

The bell rings, and guys file out. Rickie turns to go. Brian is still on the bench, unmoving.

RICKIE: Aren’t you going to lunch?

BRIAN: In a minute. I just want to sit here for a minute. . . and think.

RICKIE: Okay, see you later.

BRIAN: Yeah, later.


Sharon is sitting alone at the end of a long lunch table with four empty seats, twirling her hair. Some guy comes up as if to sit down or take a chair and she snaps out of her seat and slams a book in front of the seat the guy is approaching.

SHARON: (loudly) Taken!

Rickie comes up to the other side of the table, and Sharon tenses as if to repeat her performance until she sees it is just Rickie.

SHARON: (sighing) Oh, it’s you. I swear that the cafeteria is the best place to observe survival of the fittest. I don’t know why National Geographic doesn’t just save a lot of plane fare and shoot it’s next special here.

RICKIE: (smiles) Where’s Delia?

SHARON: She went to get our food while I made sure we would have enough seats.

RICKIE: Oh. Good, actually, I wanted to ask you something in private anyway.

SHARON: (looks intrigued, gets her "let’s gossip and meddle" smile on) What?

RICKIE: It’s about Brian Krakow.

SHARON: (looks a little disappointed) Oh. What about him?

RICKIE: Well, in gym I noticed that his back was covered in bruises, and when I asked him about it he said he didn’t even know what happened.

SHARON: So? Have you *met* Brian Krakow? He *is* a little clumsy.

RICKIE: (shaking his head) No, these were bad. He would have remembered where he got them. So I was wondering if maybe. . . I mean, you know his parents, right?

SHARON: Oh no. No way. You haven’t met his parents. They are like, old. Brian was a "Oops!" baby. I mean his sister is like thirteen years older than us.

RICKIE: But that doesn’t mean. . .

SHARON: (sure of her facts) I’m telling you Rickie, they wouldn’t ever hit him.

RICKIE: How do you know?

SHARON: (considering whether or not to say it) This is going to sound, like, horrible, but. . . .Okay, it’s like this (choosing her words slowly and looking directly at Rickie) Brian’s parents wouldn’t do that, because . . . they. . . in a way. . . don’t care enough about him to get *that* angry. . . if you know what I mean.

RICKIE: (softly) Oh. I can see that, I guess.

SHARON: So there must be some other explanation. It’s probably nothing, he’s been picked on all his life, and watching him roller-blade, is probably *the* best advertisement for life insurance that I could think of. . .

DELIA: (walking up, noticing that Sharon has trailed off) What are we talking about?

SHARON: Brian Krakow.

DELIA: (looks apologetic) Look Sharon, I said I was sorry about the pictures.

SHARON: (rolling her eyes) No. It wasn’t about that. I’ll take care of that, I’ll just talk to him and Angela about it later today.

RICKIE: (pulling an apple off the tray Delia brought) About what? The letter?

SHARON: (intrigued) What letter?

Rickie is saved by the whirlwind arrival of Rayanne, who plops down between Rickie and Sharon.

SHARON: Hey, I was wondering where you were.

RICKIE: (a bit worried) I didn’t know you were joining us.

RAYANNE: (brightly) Yup! Sharon invited me. (mock angrily) You got a problem with that, Vasquez?

RICKIE: (smiling) No. But I did mention to Angela that she should look for us.

RAYANNE: Oh. Well, it’s fine with me. I think I can manage not to have sex with anyone at this table for a half an hour or so. Beyond that, (seductive look) I ain’t makin’ any promises. (shifting topic, to Delia) Who’re you again?

DELIA: Delia. Delia Fisher.

RAYANNE: (nodding, with a knowing look) Aah, you’re the one who hates Brian Krakow’s guts, aren’t you?

DELIA: (uncomfortable with Rayanne’s directness) Well, I think hate is a little strong, but basically, yes. Sorry, if he’s, like, your friend or whatever.

RAYANNE: (playing with one of those lollipop rings) Don’t apologize to me. I admire your taste in enemies.

DELIA: Why, what did he do to you?

RAYANNE: Do? Brian Krakow, like, *doing* something? I think that’s an entirely new concept! Maybe you should suggest that to him, and then he wouldn’t be so damn boring! He puts me to sleep quicker than Valium!

RICKIE: (shortly) Rayanne!

Rayanne looks around the table. Delia isn’t quite amused but is approaching it. Sharon is trying not to frown and failing miserably and Rickie looks like he is out of patience.

RAYANNE: Sorry, I forgot we have two charter members of the Brian Krakow fan club here or something. (reaching across the table to touch Delia on the arm) We can continue our hate-fest later. If Angela Chase were still speaking to me, which she isn’t, she could join in--she always has a few choice words to say about Brian.

DELIA: (either amused or confused) I don’t think Angela likes me very much.

RAYANNE: (short, barking laughter) Join the club.

SHARON: (hoping to interrupt Rayanne’s tirade) So Rayanne, how are Our Town rehearsals going?

RAYANNE: (gesturing to him)You should ask Rickie, he practically runs them.

Rickie demurs the compliment by shaking his head "no."

RAYANNE: It’s totally true, I swear! Of course, if--(giving her "Nimrod!" face)--Katimski could ever finish a sentence, he could give Rickie a run for his money!

The whole groups finally laughs. The shot pans back away from the table until we can see Angela in the background, watching the group. She sets her tray down on the nearest table (the people sitting there give her a weird look) and walks out.


Brian exits the locker room and walks down the hall. Jordan Catalano bustles out of a cross hall and almost runs into him.


BRIAN: (keeps walking) Hey.

JORDAN: Hey Brain, wait up!

BRIAN: (neutrally, unsure of what Jordan knows) What?

JORDAN: I know I’m about used up on favors, and I know you’re only s’posed to, y’know, tutor me in English, but I have this really important math test coming up and I wondered if you could help me? (as in explanation) It’s, like, remedial.

BRIAN: (not sure whether to be relieved or annoyed) Sure, I mean, I guess so. When is the test?

JORDAN: (looks at his wrist as if he had a watch, he doesn’t, so he looks back up at Brian) What time is it now?

BRIAN: (smiles in spite of himself) About 12:30, I guess.

JORDAN: Oh. Then I guess in about an hour and a half.

BRIAN: (looks around, almost as if to see if he is going to get any better offers) Well I guess we’d better get started then.


Opening shot is of a clock. It is close to 2 PM. Brian and Jordan come out of the empty band room, where they have apparently been studying. Jordan heads down the hall purposefully, for once. Brian stands just outside the band room, watching Jordan go.

SHARON: (walking up to Brian) Hey Brian, where have you been, you weren’t in Bio, and I’ve got to talk to you.

BRIAN: (barely looking at her) Oh?

SHARON: (giving him a look) Yes, I’ve got, like, good news.

Brian is still looking down the hall. We see Brian’s POV--Jordan, still walking, is intercepted by Angela, who looks upset. She sort of thrusts herself into his arms.

SHARON: Um, hello, Brian? (waving her hand near his face)

BRIAN: (takes a deep breath in through his nose) Not now, Sharon.

Brian walks abruptly away from Sharon. Sharon looks miffed.

Jordan is awkwardly holding Angela.

JORDAN: Listen. . . I mean, I’ve got, like, this test to go to.

Jordan gently pushes her away. She looks up at him, teary-eyed.

JORDAN: I wouldn’t go, except if I miss this test, I may fail. . .

ANGELA: That’s okay.

JORDAN: Are you, y’know, okay?

ANGELA: Sure. I’ll be fine.

JORDAN: ‘Cause I can hook up with you after. . .

ANGELA: (nodding her head down once, as if deciding) Okay.

JORDAN: ‘Kay, I’ll meet you by your locker.

Angela watches him go. Sharon comes up behind her from down the hall.

SHARON: There you are, Angela, I’ve got to talk to you.

Angela turns and fixes Sharon with a withering look.

ANGELA: I’ve got to get to class.

Angela simply walks away. Sharon stands there, inclines her head, purses her lips, and fumes. Kyle Vinovich walks up to Sharon as the bell rings. She glares at Kyle.

KYLE: Hey, Sharon. . .

SHARON: What *is* it with people today?

Sharon too makes an abrupt exit. Kyle stands there giving Sharon’s back a perplexed look.

KYLE: What? What’d I do?


Rayanne is on stage with Abyssinia Churchill and some other students, waiting for an Our Town rehearsal to begin. Rickie and Delia can be seen doing something with props or scenery in the background. Brian enters at the back of the auditorium and takes a seat in one of the back rows. He looks tired. Katimski bustles in and claps his hands together to get everybody’s attention.

KATIMSKI: (gesturing lazily) All right. . . people. Let’s. . . begin with Act III.

ABYSSINIA: (playing the STAGE MANAGER): "This time nine years have gone by, my friends--and it is summer. . ."

Close-up on Brian as he leans his head back and closes his eyes.

EXT.KRAKOW PORCH--A Summer Day (flashback)

This memory takes place nine years ago when Angela and Brian are about 6 and 7 years old respectively. Young Brian is sitting on his steps, still looking too formally dressed, especially for a child, and especially in the summer--his shirt is tucked in and his shorts have recently been pressed. He is somber, and picking intently at a Band-Aid on his knee. Young Angela trots up to him, and plops down beside him on the steps, nearly touching him, even though they are small enough to sit further apart on the wide steps.

YOUNG ANGELA: Are you okay?

YOUNG BRIAN: Yeah, (manfully) it doesn’t hurt.

YOUNG ANGELA: My Mom said I should say I’m sorry.

Brian looks at her, waiting.

YOUNG ANGELA: She said that two hours is too much to be mad at your friends--(turning her head away, but leaning into him more) even if they are *mean*.

YOUNG BRIAN: My Mom sent me out here to *think* about what happened, and I can’t come back ‘til I apologize.

YOUNG ANGELA: (touching his arm, looking at him) Sorry I pushed you down.

YOUNG BRIAN: I’m sorry I called you "dumb".

YOUNG ANGELA: (smiling) That’s okay. (sticking her hand out) Friends?

YOUNG BRIAN: (nodding, smiling, takes her hand) Friends. (thinking a moment) Now that we made up, I’ll bet my Mom will give us Popsicles. . .


She grabs one side of the railing, and he grabs the other, and they both pop up and charge up the steps into the house.

INT.AUDITORIUM--Afternoon (Present Day)

Brian snaps out of his daydream, almost smiling. Practice is still in full swing. Rayanne is acting.

RAYANNE: (as EMILY--Rayanne plays the scene as understated as it’s written, with just the right touch of confusion and hope) "But, but I won’t live over a sad day. I’ll choose a happy one--I’ll choose the day I first knew that I loved George. Why should that be painful?"

BRIAN: (VO) It used to be easier to forgive. . . and be forgiven. I almost wish we still had Mothers to order us to make up. Sometimes, just having the excuse helped.

Brian focuses his attention back to the stage.

ABYSSINIA: (as the STAGE MANAGER) "And as you watch the day, you see the thing that they--down there--never know. You see the future. You know what’s going to happen. . . afterwards."

Brian nods along with the line, in the dark.


Jordan is hovering near Angela’s locker, waiting, as she approaches.

JORDAN: Hey. (he leans against the lockers)

ANGELA: Hey, sorry I’m late. I was. . . looking for someone.

JORDAN: It’s cool. (shifts from one foot to the other)

ANGELA: Anyway, (trying to seem cheerful) how did the test go?

JORDAN: I think I did pretty good--I definitely passed.

ANGELA: (a bit proud) Really? That’s great.

JORDAN: Yeah. You know my tutor, Brain, he helped me study. And he knew all the answers, even thought he’s not even (shaking his head to emphasize) *in* that class. (shrugging) Plus he skipped class to help.

ANGELA: Wait. He helped you study today? For the test?

JORDAN: (confused) Yeah.

ANGELA: (eyes widening, running hand through hair) My God! That’s great! I’ve been existing in, like, the fifth Bolgia of hell, and the two of you are bonding!

Jordan, shocked by her outburst, actually straightens up and stops leaning.

ANGELA: (near frenzied) You two could at least *pretend* that this is hard on you!

JORDAN: What? What "this"?

ANGELA: Like you don’t know.

JORDAN: I don’t.

ANGELA: Yes you do. And I’ve given you like fifty chances to tell me on your own, but I guess that isn’t going to happen. (stops acting wild, fixes him with a cold, calm stare) I know that you didn’t even *write* that letter you gave me!

Angela grabs her bag and begins to back away. Jordan reaches out and grabs her by the arm.

ANGELA: Let go of me!

JORDAN: No, wait. That letter. . . I did write it. . . in my *heart*. . .(lets her go, and looks down at his feet) just, just not in my head. Brain just knew the words to use.

ANGELA: (she stops backing away and seems sympathetic) But, that’s not all he knew. He wrote what *he* felt. It just happened to be the same as you.

JORDAN: No. (thinking this over) Then why would he help me?

ANGELA: (shaking her head, getting misty) I don’t know. . . But Brian has always been a person who really, um, *needed*. . . to be needed. Maybe too much to ever say no--even to you.

JORDAN: (it is clear he doesn’t quite believe her or know what to make of this) Is this what was bugging you last night? You didn’t really talk. It was, like, weird!

ANGELA: (smiling through her tears) I needed to think. I guess I still do.

JORDAN: So what about us? No matter who wrote the note, I am sorry.

ANGELA: I know. But we weren’t even together when you and Rayanne. . . and even if we were back together yesterday, for like a millisecond, it was for all the wrong reasons. I still need to talk to Brian, but no matter what, (reaching out to touch the collar of his shirt) I *do* forgive you.

JORDAN: (sighs, smiles) Thanks.

ANGELA: (moving in to hug him tightly) You’re welcome. Just. . .

JORDAN: (holding her close) What?

ANGELA: (laughing, sobbing into his chest) Just don’t do it again. Ever.

JORDAN: (smiling) You mean with Rayanne, or, like at all?

ANGELA: (laughing, releasing him) I’ll get back to you on that. (wipes her cheek)

JORDAN: (doing the combination to her locker) Do you need a ride home?

ANGELA: (thinking) No. I need--I mean--I should take the bus today.

Jordan looks a little disappointed.

ANGELA: But, I could use a ride here tomorrow, if you have time.

JORDAN: Sure, I’ll pick you up.

ANGELA: Great. (as he walks away) Congratulations on your test.

JORDAN: Thanks. (afterthought) Tell Brain thanks for the help, when you see him.

ANGELA: (nodding) I will.

JORDAN: You’re going to miss the bus.

ANGELA: (realizing the time) Ohmigosh! (she grabs her stuff and starts to run)

At the door of the building, Sharon catches Angela’s arm.

SHARON: Angela, thank goodness I found you.

ANGELA: Sharon, (out of breath, gasping, pointing outside) the bus!

SHARON: My Mom can give you a ride, she’ll be here any minute.

ANGELA: No, I really need to ride the bus today--(embarrassed) don’t ask.

SHARON: Well I really need to ask you something.

ANGELA: Well hurry. I have like, two minutes.

SHARON: Okay. (speaking very quickly) There’s this inter-school competition for writing, pictures and layout for school newspapers and yearbooks, and originally, Delia was supposed to get releases from Brian and the people in the candids after midterms, so Liberty could enter some, but after what Brian did to her, I guess she never did it.

ANGELA: (prompting) And....?

SHARON: Well the deadline came up so quickly so I just picked some pictures and entered them, like without getting releases from Brian or any of the people in them. And I tried to tell Brian earlier--but he totally blew me off--that he, like, won first place! And they want to totally print all the winning stories and articles and pictures in some magazine, but I don’t have the releases that I said I did, so if I don’t get them, by, like, tomorrow, I’m going to look really stupid.

ANGELA: What does any of this have to do with me?

SHARON: Well, the winning picture is of you--(tipping her head to one side) actually now that I think about it you were in a lot of the pictures--but the winning one is just of you. That’s one reason, I need you to sign a release. The other reason is that Brian Krakow will do basically anything for you, and I want you to ask him to sign off. He’ll probably be mad I never consulted with him which picture to send or something--but since I picked the one that won, you’d think he wouldn’t be too mad--but I just *don’t* have time to deal with it.

ANGELA: Fine, just give me the picture.

SHARON: (hands Angela the manila envelope) The release forms are inside, too.

ANGELA: (breaking towards the door) Okay, I’ll talk to him tonight.

SHARON: Thanks. And Angela?

ANGELA: (almost shrieking) What?!?

SHARON: Could you both date the releases, like, about a month ago, I have to give them to Foster in the morning.

Angela doesn’t respond, but ascents with a nod and a wave. She rushes down the stairs and runs up to the bus just as the doors are shutting.

ANGELA: (shouting) WAIT!

The bus driver opens the door and gives Angela a dirty look. She mumbles "sorry" and begins to look around the bus, but more intently than if she were just looking for a seat. She finally reaches the back of the bus, and not having found Brian, takes a seat. She slowly deflates, her depressed mood threatening to return. Then she remembers the picture and opens it up. She looks at the picture, and her right hand goes up to the curve of her throat, as her eyes widen in amazement and tear up, yet again. She smiles.


Practice is over. Rayanne is still standing on the stage, holding the strap of the huge bag she carries, which rests on the stage. She watches as Katimski goes over to where Rickie and Delia are laughing, loudly. Katimski says something to Rickie, who nods. Rickie gives Delia a quick hug and turns to depart with Katimski out the back stairs. Rayanne purses her lips. She walks the opposite direction, toward the edge of the stage, dragging her bag. She jumps down off the stage with a grunt and walks up the aisle to the front doors. Her eyes narrow and the camera follows her gaze, to reveal Brian getting to his feet in the back row.

RAYANNE: (scowling, but mildly) What’re you doin’ here Krakow?

BRIAN: (shrugging) Just watching you guys. . . and thinking. You were good.

RAYANNE: (suspicious) Yeah, whatever.

BRIAN: No, I mean it. You can really act. (pause) Anyway, I was kind of, y’know, waiting for you.

RAYANNE: Why? (opening her jacket, spreading her arms out wide) Want to ogle me up close?

BRIAN: Not exactly. I mean, this is going to sound a little weird, but my parents, they, like, wrote a book together. . .

RAYANNE: Your parents wrote a book?

BRIAN: Yes. It’s not out yet--this isn’t the point. The point is, a lot of the things they tell me don’t make sense. . .because--well because they are a little odd. But one thing my Mom has always told me is that one way to help you forgive someone, or forgive yourself. . . or just feel better--is to ask for forgiveness from others. Like, apologize to the people you’ve . . . *wronged*, or whatever.

RAYANNE: (playing with her hair) Like making amends.

BRIAN: (confused) Like what?

RAYANNE: It means totally going around to the people you’ve hurt, with, like your behavior, and telling them you’re sorry. It’s from AA.

BRIAN: (nodding) Oh. I didn’t know you were in AA. That’s great.

RAYANNE: (the nice moment is lost for her) I’m not *in* it, I just *heard* about it when I had to see Crazy Krzyzanowski, after the "incident" at my party.

BRIAN: Oh, sorry. Anyway, I kind of wanted to. You know, to *you*.

RAYANNE: Wanted to what?

BRIAN: Apologize. I mean, I know Angela hasn’t been talking to you since that night at Louie’s, and I wanted you to know that I was the one who saw you. You and Jordan. (looks like he is waiting for her to slap him) And taped it.

RAYANNE: (rolling her eyes) God, Krakow, even your startling revelations aren’t startling. I know you were the one who saw us. The whole school knows. (reciting a boring story voice) And you told Sharon, and the rest, as they say. . . (trails off, gets her seduction look on) But what the whole school doesn’t know, is did you like watching us?

BRIAN: (blushing painfully) No. I guess I was more in shock than anything else.

RAYANNE: Why, haven’t you ever seen sex before?

BRIAN: Not exactly, no. But what I meant was that I thought you were supposed to be Angela’s friend, but I couldn’t imagine any of her other friends doing that to her--that was the shock. It was like watching Sharon or Rickie--well not Rickie in this case--throw something in her face, or something.

RAYANNE: (actually looking guilty) Ah. So you’re apologizing for seeing us? Or for telling Sharon, knowing that she would tell Angela?

BRIAN: I guess I’m apologizing for enjoying it--even a little. Because I did. When I saw what you and Jordan were doing. . .

RAYANNE: (laughing evilly) I knew you liked it!

BRIAN: (angry) Shut up! I meant that I enjoyed knowing that Angela would hate Jordan--that made me, like, happy. And I didn’t think about what it would do to Angela, or to you. So, I’m sorry that she isn’t talking to you.

RAYANNE: (bitter) Especially since she *is* talking to Jordan.

BRIAN: (guilty) Actually, (sighing) that’s my fault, too.

RAYANNE: What? How?

BRIAN: I wrote this letter for Jordan with all my feelings about Angela, saying how sorry I was for being happy that she, was, like, betrayed by someone she trusted. And I gave it to Jordan, and he copied it, and that’s why they made up.

RAYANNE: (shocked, almost delighted) Does Angela know? She must, who could believe that Jordan Catalano knows all these 15-dollar-Brian Krakow words?

BRIAN: Give me *some* credit. I used words that he would know.

RAYANNE: (clapping twice) I love it--Krakow, you are more devious than anyone gives you credit for--first you’re in on a gun cover-up, then you break and enter with yours truly, and now you’ve started, like, a love letter forging ring? What’s next, you gonna hire Tino to bump off Delia Fisher?

Brian smiles, and shakes his head for "no" and "I cannot believe you."

RAYANNE: So why did you help Catalano?

BRIAN: He needed me. And, I promised I would.

RAYANNE: And, (in a knowing manner) because as much as you hate the way Angela ignores you, you’re afraid that telling her would make her disappear from your life completely.

BRIAN: (looks down at his feet) I guess. (looking at her) I mean, we used to be so close, like best friends, but now, I, like, barely exist.

Rayanne and Brian just stand there silently for a moment.

RAYANNE: (kindly) I accept.

BRIAN: What?

RAYANNE: Your apology. I accept it. I wouldn’t take this type of pity. . .

Brian looks like he wants to interrupt.

RAYANNE: Shut up. It is pity, at least a little. I’ll only take it from you because you do know how it feels--Angela ignores you almost as much as she ignores me. Now.

BRIAN: Is there any way I could make it up to you? Y’know, make "amends"?

RAYANNE: (another "come hither" look) You could buy me a drink.

BRIAN: (frowning) I don’t think so.

RAYANNE: Cut me in on your next crime spree?

BRIAN: (grins) Rayanne. . .

RAYANNE: Okay. Howzabout a quick note to Angela, y’know, using "words I know" to get her to make up with *me*?

BRIAN: (softly) You know I would if it had even worked the first time.

RAYANNE: (sadly) I know. I guess there’s nothing you can do.

BRIAN: I guess not.

They both pick up their stuff and start heading toward the big auditorium doors. They walk together, neither going ahead or lagging behind. They each push open one of the doors, allowing the light to stream in on them. Brian turns to Rayanne.

BRIAN: (has a weird, child-like smile on his face) How about we go out for ice cream instead of beer? My treat.

RAYANNE: (she looks at him strangely, as if he might be pulling a trick) You’re not going to rob the place or anything are you?

He shakes his head "no."

RAYANNE: Ice cream? (as if insulted by the very idea of it) Ahh, what the hell, I haven’t got any better invitations. Let’s go.

BRIAN: (nods once) Great.

The doors start to close, darkening the auditorium again. After they close completely, over the black screen, we hear Rayanne say, "Of course, we’ll have to hot wire a car to get there." and after a pause, "But, I bet you know how to do that, don’t you Krakow?"


Graham is busy at the stove. He looks periodically over at some cookbooks he has propped up against ingredients on the counter. Danielle is at the table in the little corner "nook" busily attending to some sort of schoolwork. The phone rings.

DANIELLE: (leaping up) I’ll get it. (she grabs the phone, excited) Hello? (disapprovingly) Yes, he’s here. (turning to Graham) Dad, it’s that restaurant lady.

GRAHAM: (putting down the spoon he was stirring with and grabbing the phone, as Danielle looks like she is going to drop it) Danielle! (putting his hand over the phone) That was rude! Her name is Hallie, not "that restaurant lady."

DANIELLE: (not looking the least bit sorry) Sorry.

GRAHAM: (into phone) Hello, Hallie? I’m sorry about that. (pause) No I’m sure she was just thinking it was one of her little friends calling. . .

Danielle gives him the look of death.

GRAHAM: No, it’s no bother, Patty and Angela aren’t even home yet, I have time to talk. (pause, shaking his head) I don’t know about that. . . no, I know we need to think of a name soon, I’m just saying, NOT that one. . .

Graham stays on the phone, focused on both the conversation and his cooking. The camera pans to Danielle, who watches him intently. Angela comes in the back door, looking happy. Danielle turns to look at Angela and sits down. Angela drops her bag on the floor, and shrugs out of her coat, in an extended dance that is complicated by the fact that she won’t put the manila envelope down. Finally she relents as she goes to the refrigerator and gets out some juice--as she pours herself some, she finally sets it down. Danielle pounces on it.

DANIELLE: (grabbing for the envelope) What’s this?

ANGELA: (snatching it first) Just some picture that Brian Krakow took for our yearbook.

DANIELLE: (knowingly) Then why do *you* have it?

ANGELA: (taking a sip) Well, if you must know, I have to get Brian to say that some contest people can use it in some magazine, or something, because he, like, won a prize for it.

DANIELLE: (moving towards it again) Hey, let *me* see it.

ANGELA: No, I. . . (Graham laughs loudly) *Who* is Dad talking to?

DANIELLE: (loudly) That restaurant lady.


Graham turns away from the stove and approaches the two girls. He is nodding and grunting into the phone while giving a little wave to Angela and mouthing the words "I heard that" to Danielle.

GRAHAM: Okay, okay. I will definitely be there tomorrow and we will come up with a name. You just try to be on time for once. (pause, Graham laughs as if responding to her laughter) Yes, I’ll get everyone here thinking about names. All right, good-bye. (to Angela) Hi, honey.

Angela turns toward Graham and Danielle takes the opening and grabs for the picture, snatches it out of Angela’s hand--bending it--and runs around the table and opens it.

ANGELA: (together) Danielle!

GRAHAM: (together) Danielle, give that back.

DANIELLE: (looking at the picture) Ohmygosh, this is of you. You look. . . human.

ANGELA: (angry) I can’t believe you, you bent it!

GRAHAM: Danielle, quit teasing your sister, give that to me.

Danielle hands the photo to Graham and flits out of the room with that quick head and hair spin that she does so well. Graham looks at the picture, at first just trying to straighten out the crease, but then really looking at it.

GRAHAM: (mouth dropped wide open) My God, Angela, you’re beautiful.

ANGELA: (embarrassed) No I’m not.

GRAHAM: Trust me, you are.

ANGELA: (short laugh) You’re my Dad, you have to think that, as, like, a prerequisite for the job.

GRAHAM: (laughs) That’s true. But I must not be the only one who thinks so.

ANGELA: I know. (quietly, not really knowing) What do you mean?

GRAHAM: (casually, setting the picture on the counter and turning to the stove) Well, you know what they say. Three different people can take a picture of something or paint the same object and they all turn out differently. You see the subject through the eyes of the photographer, so someone must think you’re beautiful to get such a beautiful picture. (pause) At least, that’s what they say.

ANGELA: Yeah, but now Danielle ruined the picture.

GRAHAM: Well I’m sure that whoever took it still has the negatives, or maybe the Yearbook does. I’m sure we can get some copies made. Y’know, one for me and your Mom, and one for you.

ANGELA: No, not for me.

GRAHAM: Why not?

ANGELA: I don’t know, it just seems vain or something. Asking for copies, I mean.

GRAHAM: Why? Don’t you want one for posterity, so you can leave it around to show your children just how beautiful you were in high school?

ANGELA: (smiles) You mean like Mom, and put them all, in like, therapy-for-life afterwards? I don’t think so.

GRAHAM: What about one for yourself then?

ANGELA: Dad, quit obsessing about it, I don’t even care about the picture.

GRAHAM: Oh? Okay. (pause) It’s just that you seemed so upset that it got bent.

ANGELA: I was. I mean, I guess I am. Maybe I *can* get one, y’know, like you said, just for myself.

GRAHAM: Sure, just ask whoever took it. (innocently) By the way, who did take it? (he has his back to Angela, she doesn’t see his smile)

ANGELA: (obviously debating what to say, knowing that he must have heard what she said to Danielle, but not liking the implications) Oh, just some yearbook guy.

Patty comes in the back door. She puts down her briefcase and hangs up her coat on it’s proper peg. Graham and Angela remain companionably silent.

PATTY: Well, don’t everyone greet me at once.

Patty walks into the Kitchen and around the table, near Graham. He bends over to give her a quick kiss, and she sees the picture.

PATTY: (breathless) Oh, Angela, what a lovely picture.

Danielle bounds in and rushes to hug Patty, who squeezes her briefly.

PATTY: (to Angela) It really is nice, did Jordan take it?

ANGELA: No. (hostile) Why would you say that?

PATTY: (taken aback) Well, it just looks like you posed for it. The way the light is just right. I can’t imagine you standing still like this for your Father and me.

ANGELA: I never--I, I didn’t *pose* for it.

DANIELLE: (with a little jealousy) *Brian* took the picture.

PATTY: That’s right, he does take photos, (to Angela) for the newspaper, right?

ANGELA: The yearbook. But, yeah, he does take pictures.

PATTY: Well, he must do a wonderful job--except for that crease. Maybe you can get him to make you a better copy.

Hearing this, expecting to be busted, Danielle sidles out of the room.

GRAHAM: (stirring) Angela, I need to thin this out, can you get me some milk?

ANGELA: (she opens the fridge and looks) There isn’t any.

PATTY: Graham, I asked you to get milk. I told you Jordan drank it all.

GRAHAM: (together) (chagrined) I forgot, I’m sorry.

ANGELA: (together) (surprised) You gave Jordan milk?

PATTY: (irritated at them both) Yes, I gave him some milk. Then I burped him and put him down for his nap. He was *thirsty*, Angela, what should I have done?

ANGELA: (with a little respect) No, I mean, that’s fine. I’m just kind of surprised. . .y’know, that you were nice.

PATTY: (her turn to roll her eyes, sarcastically) He caught me at a vulnerable moment, I promise that I’ll be cleaning my gun the next time he comes by.

Graham moves towards the back door. Angela goes to pick up the picture.

PATTY: Where are you going?

GRAHAM: Apparently to go get milk.

PATTY: And what am I supposed to do with this? (gesturing to the food)

GRAHAM: Just stir the sauce, and don’t let the potatoes overcook, and periodically try to add some seasonings, but not too much, and. . .

PATTY: (holds up her hand for "stop") Graham it’s easier if I just go and get the milk, isn’t it?

GRAHAM: Well, not to insult your cooking skills, (smiles) but yes.

PATTY: Fine. I’ll be back in a few minutes.

ANGELA: (turning from the picture on the counter) Mom, can I go with you?

PATTY: (surprised, but pleased) Sure.

ANGELA: (seeing Graham’s questioning glance) I just have to pick up something.

PATTY: Okay, let’s get going. We don’t want to be late for whatever masterpiece your father has in store for us tonight.

Patty and Angela walk toward the door, passing Graham. Angela takes a moment to put the picture back into the envelope. Graham gets Patty in a hug.

GRAHAM: (softly) I’m sorry I forgot.

PATTY: (smiling in spite of herself) That’s okay. *You’re* doing the dishes tonight, though, as penance.

GRAHAM: (laughs) You got it.

Patty and Angela get their coats and head out the back door.


Patty and Angela get in silently. Patty backs out and starts down the street before she speaks.

PATTY: So what do you need from the store? I hope I have enough cash on me.

ANGELA: Nothing really. I mean, I could use some new lipstick, but I kind of just wanted to talk to you, privately.

PATTY: (not about to push) Oh? What about?

ANGELA: Trust. And boys.

Patty doesn’t speak, forcing Angela to elaborate.

ANGELA: I mean, have you ever really trusted someone and then they really let you down?

PATTY: (trying not to let her own fears show) Yes. I guess everybody has.

ANGELA: What can you do about that? How do you get past it? Or can you even?

PATTY: (swallowing hard) I think you can. I hope so. Why? Has something happened to you? I know you haven’t been taking Rayanne’s calls. And I was also a bit surprised to see Jordan on our doorstep last night.

ANGELA: Mom, don’t even pretend you don’t know what happened. (outraged laugh) You are so see-through. The only person with a bigger mouth than Sharon Cherski is her Mother. (shaking her head) So don’t even try to pretend.

PATTY: (conceding the point with a wave) Okay. So what are you going to do?

ANGELA: I have no idea. I’m still not talking to Rayanne, but I sort of made up with Jordan. He gave me this letter, and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read. But it turns out that he didn’t really write it himself.

PATTY: (quietly) Who did?

ANGELA: Brian Krakow, if you can believe that.

PATTY: And now Brian gave you that picture too?

ANGELA: No. Sharon gave it to me. Brian doesn’t even know that I’ve seen it. At least not yet. (turning toward Patty in her seat) So what should I do about Jordan? And Rayanne? Will I ever be able to trust them again?

PATTY: I don’t know. What I do know is that both of them really seem to care about you--no matter what their actions.

ANGELA: But what if they just hurt me again?

PATTY: Well, that’s the decision you have to make. There’s no guarantee that even people you’ve always trusted aren’t going to hurt you. So you just have to decide if the relationship is worth the risk--the risk of being hurt again.

Angela seems to be thinking this over. After a few seconds she speaks.

ANGELA: Mom, did you have a lot of boyfriends in high school?

PATTY: No. . . I had a lot of *dates*, I guess. But they were never very serious. I don’t think I ever felt the way you seem to feel about Jordan until I was a senior.

ANGELA: (possibly offended) What do you mean by that?

PATTY: You just seem so serious about him. I just liked going out, and having fun.

ANGELA: (defensive) I have fun.

PATTY: I know, sweetheart. I only meant. . . that I guess I wasn’t ready for that. That type of relationship with someone. I always had a hard time trusting people. . . I mean, trusting them. . . not to leave.

Angela nods to herself.

PATTY: You seem to be able to trust people more easily. I guess you’re lucky that way. But. . .

ANGELA: But what?

PATTY: You trust people, but you almost trust them too much. It’s like your expectations are too high, like you expect people to be. . .*perfect*. . . all the time.

ANGELA: (sad laugh) Mom, that is like the pot calling the kettle a cooking utensil.

PATTY: I know. Camille passed on her wagging tongue, and I passed on my unrealistic expectations. But when people around me aren’t perfect, I try to deal with it.

ANGELA: (laughing) Yeah, by pointing it out to them!

PATTY: (smiles) I guess that’s true. But you really seem to do the opposite. It’s like you shut down, and shut people out when they disappoint you. And after the open-ended trust they are used to from you--well, (from experience) the silence must seem all the more unbearable in comparison.

ANGELA: I guess.

PATTY: I’m not saying your friends will do this, but someday you may shut someone out until you’re ready to deal with them again. . .but they won’t be there any more. . . you know, by the time you’re ready.

ANGELA: Like what almost happened with Sharon.

PATTY: Exactly. (Patty pulls the car to a stop and turns it off)

ANGELA: (opening her door) Thanks Mom.

PATTY: I hope I was of some help.

ANGELA: You were. It’s just, like, I needed someone to talk to about it. But the people I would usually talk to were completely (pause). . . unavailable. So, y’know, thanks. For being available. (she gets out of the car)

PATTY: (as she opens door and gets out, quietly, as if to herself) Anytime.


Brian Krakow slowly climbs the stairs to the Chase porch, and, taking a deep breath, rings the doorbell. We hear feet pounding quickly to the door, and Danielle opens the large door, swinging on it a bit.

BRIAN: (smiling, with a small wave) Um, hi.

DANIELLE: (still swinging) Angela’s not here.

BRIAN: (trying to smile) I didn’t--I mean, actually I came here to see you.

DANIELLE: (doubtful) Why?

BRIAN: I wanted to talk to you for a minute, so can I come in? To talk?

DANIELLE: (smiling) Sure.


Danielle is sitting on the couch, and Brian is in the chair. It is clear that he has been talking at Danielle for a good bit of time.

BRIAN: . . .and I’ve been thinking a lot about forgiveness lately, and like the golden rule, or whatever. . .

Danielle looks at him, hovering between bored and confused. Brian sighs, realizing that he is not relating to Danielle like he had hoped to.

BRIAN: Okay (starting anew and leaning forward in the chair, elbows on knees, more at Danielle’s eye level) Remember a few months ago when you asked me if I would show you how to play the saxophone and I was such a jerk to you?

DANIELLE: (nodding, paying attention suddenly) Yes.

BRIAN: Well, I know I asked you if you still wanted to learn, and you said you didn’t, but I wanted to make sure, that you weren’t just saying "no" because you were angry with me, or something. And even if you’re really not that interested, I never actually apologized for what I did. So I wanted to.

DANIELLE: (smiling, a bit self-satisfied) Well, I’m waiting.

BRIAN: Okay. (getting there) I mean, my sister sometimes treated me like that. She was like the only one in my family who talked to me like I was a real person, and so when she didn’t, it was like, noticeable. I know I’ve treated you like that before, so I guess--I’m just sorry I did, that’s all.

DANIELLE: That’s okay. Angela always says I’m being a pest. (thinking about earlier, looking down) I guess I am. Sometimes.

BRIAN: (frowning) Your sister really loves you, you know.

DANIELLE: (disbelieving) I guess.

BRIAN: (quickening his speaking pace) It’s true. When you where first born, you were all she could talk about. We all had to play here, me and Sharon, because Angela didn’t want to leave you.

DANIELLE: (looking back up, brushing hair out of eyes) Really?

BRIAN: (nodding) Sure, don’t you remember? She was always watching out for you--it was stupid, really, she always tried to act so grown up around you.

DANIELLE: (smiling) She still does *that*.

BRIAN: I know. Angela takes her responsibility to you very seriously. It’s what big sisters do, it’s like their job, I guess, even if they do, like, *lord* it over you.

Danielle nods at this knowingly.

BRIAN: My sister was like that too, she acted like my second mother, but was annoyed by the fact that she had to be. I mean she was a lot older, but age doesn’t matter. It’s what older sisters do.

DANIELLE: But why?

BRIAN: (smiles, shrugs) I don’t know, I’m the youngest too. Why are you and I such pests all the time? For attention?

DANIELLE: (outraged by the idea) Nuh-uh, because it’s FUN!

BRIAN: (laughs) Yeah, I guess it is, isn’t it?

They sit in comfortable silence.

DANIELLE: So, Brian, about band?

BRIAN: What about it?

DANIELLE: Well Ms. Winslow says the band people are going to be coming around soon to, like audition people.

BRIAN: (nodding, remembering) That’s right, you’re their "fresh meat" for filling out the band in the Middle School. (seriously) One piece of advice. . .


BRIAN: Even if you don’t want to see the sax or the flute, you should probably start thinking about what you want to play if you want to be in the band. The teachers sometimes tend to push kids into picking instruments that they need more players in, y’know, whether the kids want to or not.

Danielle nods slowly, as if listening to sage advice, or at least as if she enjoys having Brian talk to her like an actual person. Graham comes into the room wiping his hands on a dish towel, and looks surprised to see Brian.

GRAHAM: Oh, hi Brian. Angela’s not here.

DANIELLE: He came to see me.

GRAHAM: (trying not to look alarmed) Oh? Why?

DANIELLE: He’s going to give me saxophone lessons.

GRAHAM: (surprised) He is? You are?

BRIAN: (smiling) I guess I am. I have the smaller saxophone that I started on, so she can use that. (to Danielle) When?

DANIELLE: How about tomorrow at four?

BRIAN: Okay.

DANIELLE: Is that okay, Dad?

GRAHAM: Sure, I don’t see why not. Where?

BRIAN: (thinking) Well, no one will be home at my house, so I guess we can do it there. . .

Graham looks appalled, suspicious, and faint all at once.

BRIAN: (seeing Graham’s reaction) . . . or I guess we could do it here. You should just know that it’s going to be loud, and not that good--at first.

GRAHAM: (recovering nicely) You could use the garage.

DANIELLE: That’ll work. Right, Brian?

BRIAN: Sure.

GRAHAM: Okay, Danielle, dinner’s going to be ready soon, so say good-bye and go get washed up. I’ll let Brian out.

DANIELLE: Okay. See you tomorrow, right?

BRIAN: (standing) At four. Right. I’ll look through my old sheet music tonight.

Danielle bounces happily out of the room. Graham walks over to Brian.

GRAHAM: She didn’t talk you into this did she?

BRIAN: No. I really did come to see her. To apologize.

GRAHAM: I see. (looking like he doesn’t, as they both head for the door)

BRIAN: (quick-voice) Besides, this way she’ll have some idea about whether or not she wants to take up an instrument, y’know before the junior high recruiter comes, or you have to spend any money on an instrument. And at this point it’s getting harder and harder to make myself practice, and they say that the best way to practice the fundamentals is to teach them to someone else, so.

GRAHAM: Okay. (opens the door) What’s the real reason?

BRIAN: I guess--I mean, I know what it’s like. (looking directly at Graham) To look up to someone older. (looking across the street at his dark house) And to feel ignored.

GRAHAM: (not the answer he expected, feeling guilty for what he was thinking) Well, it’s really a nice thing to do. Danielle’ll be a handful, though.

BRIAN: (seriously) I don’t mind. It’s about time I graduated from being the pest to being the . . . pestered, I guess. I don’t mean that like it sounds.

GRAHAM: (nods once) I know. Do you want to stay for dinner? There’s always enough for one more.

BRIAN: (thinking about it) I don’t know. Angela would be mad--I’m always, like, invading on her home life.

GRAHAM: (shrugging) I really don’t think she’d mind, for once.

BRIAN: (deciding) No, I’d better not. I have some leftovers to warm up, and, y’know, some homework to do. But thanks. (walks out door)

GRAHAM: Anytime. (he shuts the door, smiles to himself, shaking his head, and heads toward the kitchen)

EXT. STREET--Evening

On the street that separates the Chase and the Krakow homes, Patty and Angela are driving back from the store. Brian walks across the street, which is fairly well-lit from the streetlamps. Patty and Angela watch him.

PATTY: There’s Brian Krakow. Maybe you can ask him for another copy of that picture.

ANGELA: I know. (her voice is thick)

Patty looks over at Angela, who looks upset, and almost afraid.

PATTY: Is everything okay?

ANGELA: (turning to Patty) Mom, I need to talk to Brian.

PATTY: Angela, we’re about to sit down to dinner. . .

ANGELA: I’m not hungry. I *need* to talk to him, now, tonight.

PATTY: About the picture?

ANGELA: (nodding) And the letter. We avoided each other all day.

PATTY: All day, huh? That’s too long. . . to avoid a friend.

ANGELA: I know. So can I?

PATTY: (pulling into the drive) Sure. I’ll have Dad keep something warm for you.

ANGELA: Thanks. (she leaps out of the car and slams the door) (yelling) Brian, wait! (she runs into the street, Brian is in his yard--he turns around)

BRIAN: (nods a greeting) Hey.

ANGELA: (pointing her finger out at him) I have something to show you--don’t go anywhere.

BRIAN: Okay.

Angela runs into her house. Patty and Graham are standing at the dinner table, when she comes in they turn and smile briefly at each other. Danielle bursts out of the kitchen and runs to the door, holding out the manila envelope with the picture inside. Angela smiles at her.

DANIELLE: Here. I’m sorry I ruined it.

ANGELA: You didn’t--I mean, I can get another--I mean, (actually stopping for a breath, smiling at Danielle) Thanks. (tilting her head to one side, she looks at her family and backs out of the house)


Brian is sitting obediently on his steps waiting for Angela to return. He looks worried and afraid more than excited. Angela walks up holding the envelope.


BRIAN: Hey. (looking up at the stars beginning to come out) Nice night. (stops, shakes his head) I’m sorry, did I just reduce us to talking about the weather?

ANGELA: (nodding, smiling) I think you did.

BRIAN: What have you got there?

Angela opens the envelope, takes out the picture and hands it to him. Brian looks at it for a minute, then hands it back.

BRIAN: (a bit sheepishly) Well, now you have proof that I’ve been stalking you. Have you already called the police, or do I have time to make a getaway?

ANGELA: What?!? Brian!

BRIAN: (chuckling softly) Sorry. Someone was indulging my crime spree fantasies earlier today, that’s all. (seriously) Where did you get that, anyway?

ANGELA: Sharon gave it to me. She entered it in some contest and you won. First prize. She needs your signature though. I already signed mine. (hands it to him)

BRIAN: (taking the paper, pulling a pen out of his pocket, absently) I didn’t even think she entered any pictures in the contest. I was supposed to go over them with. . . Delia. But I guess she didn’t really want to deal with me after. . . what happened. (looks up) Hey, you dated this a month ago.

ANGELA: You’re supposed to too, y’know, so Sharon won’t look bad.

BRIAN: Oh. Okay. (he hands her back the paper) Thanks for bringing this by.

ANGELA: Sure. No problem--I mean, *congratulations*. You really deserve it. You actually made *me* look pretty, (looking away) even my Mom had to admit it. . .

BRIAN: (shaking his head as if disappointed) Angela, I didn’t do anything. I just took a picture. I didn’t *make* you look anything--you’re *beautiful*, like, from the inside, (throws a hand out in emphasis) even in only two dimensions.

ANGELA: (bites her lip) Thank you. (pause) Brian, we have to talk.

BRIAN: (sighs) I know. I just don’t seem to know how to talk to you anymore.

ANGELA: (looks down at him, softly) What do you mean?

BRIAN: You know. It used to be so easy. I could talk to you about anything, and I always did. It never seemed to matter that I was a boy and you were a girl. Except suddenly it started to matter. To everyone else. And maybe to us a little too. And I just didn’t know how to *be* around you any more, and so all we could do is snipe at each other and fight.

ANGELA: (nodding) I know. It’s always easier to fight.

Angela sits down next to Brian on the steps, very close to him, out of necessity--they have grown.

ANGELA: It’s easy for me to yell at you Brian, y’know why?

BRIAN: (looks at her) Because I’m just that irritating?

ANGELA: (laughs, nudges his leg playfully with her own) No. It’s easy for me to yell at you, and take my frustrations out on you, because I trust you to always still be there, no matter what I say.

BRIAN: (looks touched) Oh.

ANGELA: (looking straight ahead) And I knew something was different between us, and I guess I always knew what it was, but as long as you didn’t actually *say* it, I could just pretend that everything was still the same.

BRIAN: (looking straight ahead) I know. And I guess I was always too afraid to lose what remnants of our friendship that we still had, by pushing the issue. But, I know now that it will never work that way. (looks at her) I have to say it.

Angela frowns, and abruptly stands.

ANGELA: No you don’t.

BRIAN: Yes I do. At least to Angela Chase, my friend, I do. (he can’t look directly at her) Angela, I love someone. (he finally looks into her eyes) That someone is you.

Angela just stares at him, her hand comes up to cover her chin.

ANGELA: (heatedly) You can’t *say* that. You don’t even *know* me. That’s like me saying I was in love with Jordan Catalano, when I was only in love with this idea of how he would be, that only even existed in my head!

BRIAN: (standing up, just as angry) Please don’t compare me to *that*! It’s not the same and you know it! (then calmer) We know each other, Angela. (He turns away) As pathetic as it makes me look, I don’t think anyone knows me better than you.

ANGELA: I know. (crying) But, what do you expect me to say now? That I’m in love with you? Because I can’t. I mean, I’m *not*. I care about you Brian, but as a *friend*. . .

BRIAN: (softly) Well, do you want to stay friends?

ANGELA: (emphatically) Yes! Of course!

BRIAN: Then be glad I said it. Because we were losing our friendship. When I saw you in the hall today, (hurting) I saw how you, like, looked at me.


BRIAN: I had become, like, *your* Delia Fisher. Like I had asked you to tell me your honest feelings, and then hated you for them. (tearing up) I don’t want it to be like that, Angela. I don’t want you to feel guilty or sad every time I walk into the room. Because if you do, eventually you’ll stop talking to me at all.

ANGELA: So what now? We’re just friends again? After what you said to me?

BRIAN: Yes. We have to get past that. (walking into his yard towards the street) I need you, Angela. I need our friendship back the way it used to be. I know that a friendship may be awkward at first, but without that, nothing else. . . . Nothing else we could ever have would even matter.

ANGELA: (not following him yet) And you think I can forget what you said?

BRIAN: You don’t have to forget. It’s a compliment to you--I mean, it’s something you should. . . you should *know*. But what you have to remember, and I guess I have to remember it too, is that it’s okay. Y’know, okay for you to care about someone else and to try to be happy. And I’ll be what I should have been all along.


BRIAN: Happy *for* you.

ANGELA: (walking over to him) Brian, Jordan and I aren’t together.

BRIAN: (surprised) But last night? I mean, I thought. . . Why not?

ANGELA: We weren’t together when this happened. And he was just looking for forgiveness, and I gave it to him. I mean, we’ll still see each other, but it will be like it was before, y’know, after we broke up and before. . . *Rayanne*. It was almost better then, as friends, than any time before that. And maybe we’ll get together again, I just don’t know. But now. . .

BRIAN: What? (crosses his arms defensively)

ANGELA: Now, a new. . .(coming close to him, looking into his eyes). . .*variable* has entered the equation. (she touches his arm) And speaking of equations, (laughs) when I was working this out with Jordan, he said to thank you for all your help in math. What did you do, give him all the wrong answers?

BRIAN: No. I wouldn’t do that--anymore. (explains) It was easy for me to hate him, at first. I guess it was just easier for me to think of him as stupid--it’s like, the *one* thing I have over him.

ANGELA: (still holding his arm, quietly) That’s not the only thing you have.

BRIAN: He isn’t stupid though. Just. . . behind. He’s actually pretty smart in a lot of ways. I can finally see. . . at least a little bit. . . what *you* see.

ANGELA: Gosh, Brian. Maybe *you* should date him. (they both laugh softly, Angela refuses to let go of Brian’s arm, and smiles at him) This might work after all. Being friends again. Weren’t you worried that admitting your feelings for me would make this not work?

BRIAN: No. (manfully) I wasn’t worried. I just think like you.

Angela looks confused.

BRIAN: I just trust you to be there no matter what I say.

Angela smiles.

BRIAN: I realize that this isn’t our normal screaming routine. . .

ANGELA: I know. But this is nice too.

Brian smiles.

ANGELA: Brian, y’know how I like, hug Rickie and Sharon? Would it be okay if I did that to you once in a while, or would that, I don’t know, just be too weird?

BRIAN: It wouldn’t be weird--it would just be. . . like old times.


With tears in their eyes, they move toward each other. Angela moves the hand she had on Brian’s arm up to his chest, and then to his shoulder. It is awkward at first, but finally she brings her other arm forward, burying her face in his jacket, and he surrounds her with his arms. They both hold on very tightly.

ANGELA: (still locked in the embrace) You got tall.

BRIAN: I know. (blushing, embarrassed, letting go a little) You got breasts.

ANGELA: (embarrassed) Brian! Shut up! (smacks him gently across the shoulder as she parts from him and moves into the street, and crosses it slowly)

BRIAN: Well, you did. (he follows her a short ways into the street, but stops closer to his side) It’s just been a long time, since I got a hug. It’s different.

ANGELA: (stopped on her side of the street, relenting because she knows he doesn’t mean physically) I know. But I think it’s better now.

BRIAN: (not disagreeing) But why?

ANGELA: It means more, doesn’t it? After what we’ve been through? Back then, it was just something the three of us did. Like to say "let’s hope this lasts." It hadn’t ever been tested. But now, I know what happened next--and it wasn’t always good; for me and Sharon, or for me and you. (shaking her head) So now, it’s like we’re saying "we *did* last," and knowing that we could somehow still be friends, even if it isn’t exactly the same. . . well, it just means more, y’know?

Brian nods solemnly, watching her from across the pavement. Angela looks back, her legs akimbo. For once they both look content and happy.

ANGELA: (turning to look at her house) Well, I’ve got to go.

BRIAN: Okay. (as she turns to go) Hey, Chase?

ANGELA: (smiling at his choice of words, matching them) What, Krakow?

BRIAN: You forgot the picture. Y’know, for Sharon.

ANGELA: (not budging) That’s okay. I mean, I’ll see you tomorrow, right?

BRIAN: (nods once) Right.

They both look at each other one last time, and then turn away, back to their respective houses, but not in anger, for once. They are smiling.



--Our Town, by Thornton Wilder, was copyrighted and first performed in 1938.

In the preface to a 1957 collection of three of his works, Wilder said that the play "is an attempt to find a value above all price for the smallest events in our daily life." Wilder went on to assert that: "Each individual’s assertion to an absolute reality can only be inner, very inner."

These two concepts fit perfectly within the confines of My So-Called Life; where the deepest thoughts and feelings are often conveyed with only a look, or a gesture, and certain characters, (namely Patty, Angela, and Brian), seem to search every single event in their lives for meanings that may not even be there.

--The concept of there being "Bolgias" in hell is taken from Dante’s Inferno.

--Asterisks (*) are inserted in text to indicate emphasis and/or to show where something, in the case of titles, should be underlined or italicized.

--(VO) in these scripts indicates that the dialogue is in a voice-over.

--(OS) in these scripts indicates that the dialogue is spoken from off-screen

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Episode No. 21 - Snapshots by E.R. Holdridge (Shobi)
Published: 31 Jul 1997 | Size: 91 KB (16571 words) | Language: english english | Rating: PG-13
Average: 4.7/5   4.7/5 (56 votes)

Read this story now: Episode No. 21 - Snapshots

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Reviews for this story

Rating Distribution:
Average: 4.4/5   4.4/5 (125 votes)
  • Vickie Potter commented on 22 Dec 1999:
    The concept and storyline rock! The way it intertwined was great, especially with OUR TOWN. I think he totally caputured the visuals of MY SO-CALLED LIFE. And the language was great. But the only thing, I don't like what became to Brian and Angela, I don't think that would have happened. Also everything was repeated about a billion times in the dialogue, to knid of explain and remind the reader, I think that stunk up the text, it would have been greatly revealed without saying a writer you shouldn't tell me ....but show me, other than that it was a great story, not the best but ok.
  • kym commented on 04 Jun 2002:
    This is the best story I have read so far, you have been the most faithful to the characters, the themes, th edialogue and the plots.
    I have read the Divine Comedy, (and am a huge Dante fan) but ,i think that Angela's outburst was a little weird- not something she would say
    I'm not srue if the show would ever have two characters so the VO in one episode, but it worked.
    And I never thought about the fact that Angela might just forgive Jordan and they would return to friends rather than dating, I guess because she kisses him in the hall, but it was an interesting thought
    the scene with Patty and Angela in the car was GOLD!!
  • Genafer commented on 11 Jul 2002:
    It was really really good! the ice cream date with brian and rayanne was a little much there... and i don't know if brian would have confessed his love so soon, but you wrote it out well!!
  • SarahJane commented on 15 Dec 2002:
    The storyline was believeable, although Jordan talks far too much. He's not this insightful. He's just a teenage boy. The real secret about Jordan Catalano is that he's simply not as deep and complicated as Angela makes him out to be.
  • Christina gave this story a 4.0/5 4.0/5 rating and commented on 02 Jan 2008:
    As a writing student, I fully appreciate the imagery and flow of your story. The events don't happen exactly as I would have liked, but I was still engaged from beginning to end. I found myself holding my breath by the ending. I didn't like the double voice over (from both Angela and Brian), but the dialogue is strong.
  • zach gave this story a 4.0/5 4.0/5 rating and commented on 16 Aug 2008:
    This is really good. I just happened upon this site and figured I'd check out one of the stories and it really read well as an episode. Jordan seems to be more of a personification of Angela's idealized version of him but, other than that, I really think you nailed it! I especially like the interplay between Brian and Rayanne as I was looking forward to some continuation of their pseudo 'tryst' from the Halloween episode. Also, I enjoyed that you handled the "cliffhanger" almost completely in this one episode - probably the way the writers would have done it as well. Can't wait for the next one!
  • jessi_spain gave this story a 5.0/5 5.0/5 rating and commented on 16 Aug 2008:
    hi! this is my first comment and review,i guess this is like the first time I participate here.
    I have to say that reading this has been awsome. Good job!

    I was kind of desperate about thinking how hard it was not to have a proper end for the series,so when i found this section..I couldnt believe it!

    This writting is amazing,really realistic, and im glad you wrote it cuz it gives me some good "answers" for the last episode. I really enjoyed it.

    Just one thing, after reading this chapters and the next one, I really think Jordan and Brian would never talk that much to anybody. Not even jordan to Angela. But, somehow, its good you wrote it that way cuz i always missed more conversation between Jordan and Angela. So, in this way,your writing gives me what i was expecting from the show. (am I speaking my mind? sorry for my bad english)

    and, one really good thing: I agree with Chritina (two comments above) The Imaginery and flow of the writings are great and I could really read the whole story as it would be and original episode of the series. gonna read the 23! :)
  • ava gave this story a 4.0/5 4.0/5 rating and commented on 09 Apr 2011:
    I think that Jordan wouldnt talk as much as he did in this 'episode', he would probably get all weird and pull away a little. i also dont see him consoling angela, its like he doesnt really know how to be intimate with someone, like when someone needs him. i think it like, freaks him out or something.

    the interaction between angela and brian went a little too smooth. i can see them getting in an argument or something. in this, brian wasnt being that awkward and i feel like if he was trying to tell angela he loves her he would have stuck his foot in his mouth a few times.

    but this is soo great to read, i love it. as im reading it, i hear their voices in my head and completely picture them saying all of this. thank you for this.


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“Do we have to keep talking about religion? It's Christmas.”

Danielle Chase, Episode 15: "So-Called Angels"