STATUTORY

Written by Madison Johnson

Based on a True Story

From: Madison Johnson

Minnesota Correctional Facility - Stillwater 970 Pickett Street

Bayport, MN 55003

651-779-2700

EXT. COMO LAKE - EARLY MORNING

The CAMERA pans across a frozen lake. It looks desolate, barren. The sun is close to rising but isn’t quiet there.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Every story has a beginning. The thing is, if somebody tells you he knows it, he’s lying. Nobody knows that shit. We’re too simple and too fucked up. And really, if you’re thinking about beginnings, it’s only because everything’s real bad at the present.

CLOSE UP of Maddie’s face. He’s young, late teens or early twenties, attractive in a delicate way. He’s obviously distressed, sweaty, his bottom lip split.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Me, I’m holding a gun. I’ve never fired one, but it’s probably as simple as point and pull and repeat.

The CAMERA pans out. Maddie holds a snub-nosed revolver with his right hand. He nervously taps the tip against his thigh.

MADDIE (V.O.)

And I’m thinking about beginnings. I’m thinking about absent fathers and overbearing mothers and being a celebrity for being raped and nothing as pure as a boy and girl in love.

CUT TO:

INT. INSIDE OF ICE PALACE - NIGHT

We see a slightly younger Maddie leaning against an iridescent ice wall, his arm around Elliot, a blond girl on the border of womanhood, sharp featured, stunning but not conventionally pretty. They’re smiling into one another’s mouths.

CUT TO:

EXT. COMO LAKE - CONTINUOUS

MADDIE (V.O.)

I’m thinking about daughters and affairs and dying in prison.

INT. HONDA CIVIC - CONTINUOUS

The CAMERA shows Netta-Mae, a three-month-old girl, sitting awkwardly in the driver’s seat. Her purple pajamas show from underneath a man’s parka wrapped around her body. She’s crying.

EXT. COMO LAKE - CONTINUOUS

We follow Maddie’s range of vision to his left. We see Devon, a forty-something type, his face covered in three-days’ worth of beard, and Elliot. They are on their knees, both crying.

We hear the approaching of sirens, first a distant buzz, now becoming a constant wailing.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Maybe the only time we ever think about beginnings is at the end.

Like a prayer. Like if we conjure up the exact moment everything started, we’ll be transported back in time, able to cherish every pointless conversation.

Maddie rubs the back of his hand holding the pistol across his mouth, smearing snot and blood and saliva.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Or maybe our search for the beginning is an attempt to find the exact moment we should’ve walked away.

The CAMERA pans across the frozen lake, focusing on the snow. We hear three gun shots.

FADE TO WHITE:

EXT. BASEBALL FIELD - MORNING

A six-year-old Maddie is dressed in a baseball uniform and oversized helmet. He holds a metal baseball bat that looks too heavy.

MADDIE (V.O.)

I had the all-American Childhood.

He swings at a black tee holding an oversized softball. He misses the ball but makes contact with the tee, knocking it over.

T-ball...

MADDIE (V.O.)

CUT TO:

EXT. STATE PARK - DUSK

A seven-year-old Maddie sits with his mother and father around a campfire. They’re roasting marshmallows. They look more bored than happy.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Camping…

CUT TO:

INT. DINING ROOM - NIGHT

An eight-year-old Maddie sits at a rectangular dining table. He plays with his peas.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Family dinners...

The CAMERA pans out to show the full table. His parents sit on opposite ends. They’re screaming. His father throws his plate against the wall. His mother, a blond woman who appears attractive if not a bit timid, covers her mouth with a cloth napkin.

CUT TO:

EXT. FRONT DOOR - NIGHT

Nine-year-old Maddie stands in front of a red door to a prefabricated suburban home. His mother stands to his side, her arm slung over his shoulder.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Divorce...

Mr. Johnson’s face is visible through the windshield of a black Acura. He backs out of the driveway.

CUT TO:

INT. MADDIE’S ROOM - NIGHT

A twelve-year-old Maddie sits at the foot of his bed. He’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He’s wearing a headset and holding an Xbox controller. The CAMERA zooms in on his face, which reflects back the light from the video game. We can hear the noise of gunfighting.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Vids...

CUT TO:

INT. FRIEND’S ROOM - NIGHT

A group of thirteen-year-old boys stand around in a circle. The CAMERA moves over Maddie’s shoulder to show that they’re looking at internet pornography.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Sleepovers...

CUT TO:

EXT. OUTSIDE OF GIRL’S WINDOW - NIGHT

The bedroom window opens. An awkwardly attractive blond girl with braces beckons a fourteen-year-old Maddie over with nervous

excitement.

MADDIE (V.O.)

More sleepovers.

Maddie dives through the open window.

CUT TO:

EXT. BEHIND A BURGER KING DUMPSTER - DAY

A fifteen-year-old Maddie passes a forty between himself and two friends.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Drinking...

CUT TO:

INT. KITCHEN OF PARTY - NIGHT

Maddie at sixteen sits amongst a crowded table of high school peers. Rap plays in the background. The drunken cheers of youth echo. The girl sitting on his lap squeezes his cheeks until he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Drugs...

She sticks out her own tongue, rolling two hits of ecstasy from her mouth to his own.

CUT TO:

INT. GIRL’S BEDROOM - NIGHT

A CLOSE UP of Maddie’s face. He’s speaking directly to the camera.

MADDIE (V.O.)

For all intents and purposes, I was the poster child for the Millennial Generation. I was white and lived in the suburbs and listened to rap and smiled around adults and worked a shitty retail job in order to pay for drugs and got decent grades and was planning on going to the state university and was disenfranchised with pretty much everything, including this.

The CAMERA pulls back, showing a shirtless Maddie thrusting. The sound of slapping becomes louder and louder.

GIRL (O.C.)

Oh God!

CUT TO:

INT - ROSEVILLE MALL - DAY

Maddie walks through the mall traffic with calm ease and self-assurance, as if he knows he’s better than the fat masses around him, while not coming across as conceited. He wears skinny jeans and a white T-shirt.

MADDIE (V.O.)

So maybe that’s my beginning - bored with everything and everyone.

Beat.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Enter Elliot.

Maddie pauses in front of Talbots. Elliot stands near the entrance folding turtlenecks. She sees Maddie through the glass of the storefront. It’s unclear if she’s staring at Maddie or simply spaced out.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

It wasn’t like she was even overly beautiful — a little old, a little too much nose — but there was something about her I couldn’t get enough of.

CUT TO:

INT. - ROSEVILLE MALL - FOUNTAIN - DAY

Elliot sits at a two-person table picking at a salad. Water from a dilapidated fountain sprinkles. We follow her gaze to Zumiez, to Maddie, who stares back.

MADDIE (V.O.)

It was probably the fact that she wouldn’t stop staring at me.

EXT. - PARKING LOT - NIGHT

Maddie and two friends huddle outside of his Civic passing around a joint. It’s obviously cold, all of them dressed in hooded sweatshirts, blowing on their hands for warmth.

They’re joking around, slapping nuts, and talking shit.

Elliot walks across the parking lot with her knee-length sweater coat held closed by her arms clasped around her stomach.

She doesn’t look altogether comfortable walking in heels, which becomes all the more apparent when one breaks, causing her to stumble, arms outstretched, finally tipping over.

Maddie’s two friends burst out laughing. Maddie starts, but then stops, the joint in his mouth, peering. He breaks away from his friends and jogs toward Elliot.

MADDIE

You Okay?

ELLIOT

Besides wanting to die?

MADDIE

Wasn’t all bad. (laughing)

Graceful almost.

ELLIOT

Like a fucking train wreck. (taking her broken shoe

from Maddie) Payless.

MADDIE

Two-for-one?

ELLIOT

Bingo.

MADDIE

And the other pair?

ELLIOT

Broken.

They laugh. Elliot’s obviously embarrassed, flushed, with her blond hair pulled out from her ponytail. But it’s in this moment where she seems to first notice Maddie. The slightest dimple grows on her left cheek as she bites its inside.

MADDIE

(extending his hand) Maddie.

ELLIOT

Elliot.

(shakes his hand) Your name’s kind of girly.

MADDIE

(laughing)

And your name’s kind of masculine.

ELLIOT

Could trade.

MADDIE

Could.

ELLIOT

Your Adam’s apple is too big for an Elliot.

MADDIE

Your...

CLOSE UP of Elliot’s nose.

ELLIOT

Can say it, dick. Staring right at my nose.

(feigns anger and turns around)

MADDIE

(grabs her arm, laughing) Girl can dish it out, but can’t take it?

ELLIOT

Oh, I can take it.

MADDIE

Yeah?

ELLIOT

(staring directly at him) Nice to meet you, Maddie.

MADDIE

Wait, wait. What are you up to Saturday?

ELLIOT

An invigorating evening of returning these broke-ass shoes to Payless.

MADDIE

Give me your phone.

ELLIOT

Aren’t you the confident boy?

MADDIE

A party. I’m having a party. You should come.

(MORE)

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Rock some of that Talbots gear like it’s going out of style.

ELLIOT

How do you know where I work?

MADDIE

(taking her phone) A brother has eyes.

ELLIOT

Maybe I should go pick up some teenybopper tube-tops at Zumiez?

MADDIE

How do you know where I work?

ELLIOT

(grinning)

A sister has eyes.

INT. THE JOHNSON’S KITCHEN - MORNING

Maddie sits at a breakfast island eating Lucky Charms. The kitchen is a modest stab at opulence — fake mahogany and granite, pans strung from a wrought-iron hanging wrack above the stove. Mrs. Johnson, 46, attractive for a mother, her jeans doing their best to hold back the slight pouch of middle-age, rubs Maddie’s back.

MRS. JOHNSON

So you’ll go directly to Jared’s after school. I’ll be back Sunday. Obviously call if you need me.

MADDIE

Yup. Love you.

MRS. JOHNSON

Love you too.

MRS. JOHNSON

And no parties.

MADDIE

No parties.

MONTAGE - VARIOUS

(A$AP ROCKY’s Wild For The Night plays)

A)EXT. THE JOHNSON’S FRONT YARD - NIGHT - The yard is swarmed with cars and teenagers filing toward the red front door. One boy kicks the head of a plastic Frosty the Snowman decoration.

B)INT. THE JOHNSON’S FOYER - NIGHT - Teenagers dance seductively. A couple on the stairs forcefully kisses. They bump into a picture of Maddie and his mom, which falls and breaks.

C)INT. THE JOHNSON’S KITCHEN - NIGHT - High school girls scream as a ping-pong ball lands in a red cup. They all raise their cups to do shots.

D)EXT. OUTSIDE OF ELLIOT’S TRUCK - Maddie chases Elliot.

E)INT. THE JOHNSON’S FOYER - NIGHT - Two girls grind one another. Their gyrations alternate between slow-motion and regular speed.

F)INT. MRS. JOHNSON’S BEDROOM - NIGHT - A teenage couple lay on the red comforter. A CLOSE UP of hands rubbing over exposed skin.

G)EXT. THE JOHNSON’S BACK PATIO - NIGHT - A group of boys sit around smoking blunts.

H)EXT. OUTSIDE OF ELLIOT’S TRUCK - NIGHT - Elliot has her hand on the truck’s handle. Maddie is two feet away. He smiles.

MADDIE

Hey.

I)INT. THE JOHNSON’S FOYER - NIGHT - The same two girls grind. Elliot stares at the dancing girls. Then the couple making out on the stairs. She’s obviously a little disturbed.

J)INT. THE JOHNSON’S KITCHEN - NIGHT - Maddie checks his phone. He’s distracted, alone in a crowd of a hundred.

K)EXT. OUTSIDE OF ELLIOT’S TRUCK - NIGHT - Elliot holds her keys.

ELLIOT

It’s just...fuck...I thought you were older.

MADDIE

I’m eighteen.

ELLIOT

And I’m older.

MADDIE

Twenty-one?

ELLIOT

Boy’s flush with charm.

MADDIE

Twenty-three tops.

ELLIOT

Closer.

MADDIE

(stepping closer) One drink.

L)INT. THE JOHNSON’s FOYER - NIGHT - One of the grinding girl’s reaches out and takes Elliot’s hand. The girl brings Elliot’s hand to her own small breasts. Elliot shakes her head and turns to leave. Maddie rushes from the end of the foyer toward the front door.

M)INT. THE JOHNSON’S BATHROOM - NIGHT - A girl is on her hands and knees vomiting into the toilet. Two boys are laughing behind her. They are snapping pictures of her ass crack, fully exposed, as she gets sick.

N)EXT. OUTSIDE OF ELLIOT’S TRUCK - NIGHT - Maddie’s inches away from Elliot. She’s shaking her head, but he’s smiling.

ELLIOT

This isn’t going to happen, little boy. Goodnight.

She runs her hand across his chest in a way that would suggest otherwise. She gets into the truck. It takes two attempts before the engine catches. The lights blind Maddie.

END OF MONTAGE

FADE TO WHITE:

INT. ROSEVILLE MALL - DUSK

Maddie’s standing behind the counter at Zumiez. Shoppers walk around the store, destroying stacks of folded T-Shirts. A fourteen-year-old girl slips a beanie from the bin into her purse. Maddie is texting on his phone.

CLOSE UP of his phone. He’s in the text message screen. The contact says “Elliot”. He’s written: What you up to 2night?

The typing icon fills the screen, then Elliot’s message: Shouldn’t you be playing WOW or something?

Maddie laughs. He types: Serious.

The typing icon shows. Elliot’s response: Some bullshit work thing at Chili’s. Kill me.

INT. CHILI’S - NIGHT

Maddie stamps the snow off his feet and rubs his hands together as he enters Chili’s. He’s greeted by a twenty-something hostess, who’s obviously attracted to him. She puts her hand on his back as she guides him to the bar.

As they’re walking, Maddie cranes his neck to see the back of the restaurant. Elliot stands in a cluster of older women.

Maddie slows, causing the hostess to turn, reaching out with her hand as if he were a child in need of coaxing. It’s obvious Maddie wants Elliot to see him, but she doesn’t look over.

From Elliot’s POV, we see the profile of Maddie as he walks around the corner.

Elliot smiles into her drink. She excuses herself from the women.

From Elliot’s POV, we pass by fat families devouring Blooming Onions. Sleazy thirty-something mall salesmen give her the up and down. She rounds the corner into the bar. Maddie looks up from a two-person booth. He gives us a true smile, this one all emotion, without trying to be sexy or cool.

INT. WOMEN’S BATHROOM AT CHILI’S - CONTINUOUS

A slutty-yet-attractive twenty-five-year-old applies eyeliner at the mirror. Elliot tentatively positions herself next to the girl. She pretends to look through her purse, but really stares at herself compared to the girl next to her. Their difference in sex appeal is evident. Elliot pulls the skin underneath her eyes back for a few seconds.

The door opens. Maddie slips in.

ATTRACTIVE/SLUTTY GIRL

You can’t be in here.

MADDIE

Hey.

ATTRACTIVE/SLUTTY GIRL

(noticing Maddie, grinning slightly)

ELLIOT

What are you doing here?

MADDIE

I wanted to talk about the other night...

ATTRACTIVE/SLUTTY GIRL

(realizing Maddie had come in for Elliot)

This is the women’s bathroom. As in, you can’t be here.

ELLIOT

(turning to girl) It’s fine.

ATTRACTIVE/SLUTTY GIRL

For who?

ELLIOT

Whom.

ATTRACTIVE/SLUTTY GIRL

What?

ELLIOT

For whom?

ATTRACTIVE/SLUTTY GIRL

Bitch.

ELLIOT

Always appreciate female solidarity.

The girl tosses her eyeliner in her Michael Kors clutch. She walks toward the bathroom exit. Maddie steps to the side, but she still places her hand on the small of his back as if she were barely able to squeeze by.

MADDIE

I’m sorry about the party. Shouldn’t have tried to kiss you. Was a little drunk and...

ELLIOT

And what?

MADDIE

Scared to say anything more.

ELLIOT

Why?

MADDIE

Because you’ll correct my grammar.

The both laugh. Maddie walks to the edge of the green sink and leans against it before straightening back up.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

It’s just...

ELLIOT

The fact you’re a baby.

MADDIE

Eighteen.

ELLIOT

In high school.

MADDIE

Old enough to buy porno—

ELLIOT

Then maybe that’s what you should do.

MADDIE

Or maybe you should believe what I’m telling you.

ELLIOT

Which is?

Maddie seems a tiny bit flustered, his fingers rubbing against the green counter, his gaze ducking to the sink for a second.

MADDIE

That I really...

ELLIOT

What?

MADDIE

Want to get to know you.

ELLIOT

That’s not what you were going to say?

MADDIE

I don’t know, there’s something about you...

ELLIOT

(laughing)

The fact I’m old as fuck.

MADDIE

The fact you’re...like...

ELLIOT

Ready for assisted living?

MADDIE

(laughing) I don’t know.

ELLIOT

That’s not good enough.

MADDIE

Different.

ELLIOT

That’s not good enough.

MADDIE

Good different. Like the best fucking different.

Elliot rolls her eyes and walks past Maddie. She reaches the door. Maddie starts toward her.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Hold up.

Elliot stops, leaning her head against the wooden bathroom door.

CLOSE UP of her arching neck.

ELLIOT

Not good enough.

MADDIE

(walking toward her)

I can’t stop thinking about you.

ELLIOT

Not good enough.

MADDIE

I keep volunteering to go on Jamba Juice runs at the store so I can walk by Talbots.

ELLIOT

(her voice softer) Not good enough.

MADDIE

I couldn’t sleep Saturday night thinking I’d messed everything up.

They are a foot apart by this point. Elliot kind of rolls the back of her head against the wall.

ELLIOT

(whispering) Not good enough.

MADDIE

I like you.

Elliot laughs. Maddie seems instantly embarrassed.

MADDIE (CONT’D) (CONT’D)

What?

ELLIOT

Life.

Elliot reaches toward Maddie’s face. She pulls at the back of his neck and then they’re kissing. Elliot appears to be the aggressor, lifting her leg, fumbling with Maddie’s belt.

Maddie fishes a condom out of his wallet and hurriedly puts it on. Elliot moans when he enters her. Somebody tries to push open the bathroom door from the other side. Both Maddie and Elliot laugh and continue having sex.

CUT TO:

INT. PSYCHOLOGIST’S OFFICE - MORNING

Maddie sits in a leather chair. He’s dressed in a sweater with a collared shirt. The psychologist sitting across from him is attractive in a frigid way, a gray skirt-suit, black hair pulled back in a severe manner.

PSYCHOLOGIST

And this was the first time Mrs. Svendson had intercourse with you?

MADDIE

The first time we had intercourse, yes.

PSYCHOLOGIST

Was this the first time you’d had intercourse in a public location?

Maddie shakes his head. The psychologist jots a note.

PSYCHOLOGIST (CONT’D)

How old did you believe Mrs. Svendson to be at that time?

MADDIE

Twenty-four. Twenty-five at the oldest.

PSYCHOLOGIST

And she believed you to be...

MADDIE

Eighteen.

PSYCHOLOGIST

(pausing)

What was your intention when following Mrs. Svendson into the restroom?

MADDIE

To apologize.

PSYCHOLOGIST

What was your reaction when she kissed you?

MADDIE

To kiss her back.

PSYCHOLOGIST

(giving a curt smile) Emotionally speaking?

MADDIE

Surprised, I guess. (pausing)

A little confused.

PSYCHOLOGIST

Why is that?

Beat.

MADDIE

Because she’d been telling me no.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Never knew what she was thinking.

CUT TO:

INT. YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST’S OFFICE - MORNING

An eight-year-old Maddie sits on an oversized leather chair. He sits with his fists jammed underneath his knees. He looks uncomfortable. The youth psychologist is a moderately attractive blond in a floral-patterned blazer with ugly shoulder pads.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST

How does it make you feel when you don’t know what she’s thinking?

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD MADDIE

Bad.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST

Tell me more about that.

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD MADDIE

(shrugging)

Like she’s mad. Or sad.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST

Are you only happy if your mother is happy?

Eight-year-old Maddie nods.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST (CONT’D)

That’s a lot of pressure for you, isn’t it?

Eight-year-old Maddie continues nodding.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST (CONT’D)

Does it feel like it’s your job to make your mother happy?

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD MADDIE

It is.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST

(nodding in a sympathetic way)

What do you do if you fail at this?

Eight-year-old Maddie looks down at his lap.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST (CONT’D)

What do you do, Madison?

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD MADDIE

It was only once.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST

May I see them?

Eight-year-old Maddie nods. He bunches up his navy-blue T-shirt and pulls its bottom up toward his chin. There are a series of small cuts along his prepubescent pectorals.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST (CONT’D)

Can you tell me exactly what you were thinking when you hurt yourself?

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD MADDIE

I needed to be better at making my mom happy.

The psychologist has moved her chair closer to Maddie. She’s studying the small cuts. She extends her hand, letting her fingers trace the two-inch marks.

From eight-year-old Maddie’s POV, we are in a CLOSE UP of her hand, wrist, floral blazer, her cleavage (which has grown since the scene started, and now seems wildly inappropriate), then her neck and clavicles, then her mouth, then her nose, and it’s here both the audience and Maddie seem to realize it’s a different lady, now Elliot dressed as the youth psychologist, her rubbing of his chest turning sexual.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST

Does that feel good?

CUT TO:

INT. WOMEN’S BATHROOM AT CHILI’S - CONTINUOUS

MADDIE

Yes.

ELLIOT

That makes me happy.

MADDIE

It feels so fucking good.

FADE OUT.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - NIGHT

Maddie and Elliot sit in his handed-down Civic. It’s full of sweatshirts and crushed Monster cans and skateboard decks.

They’re at a park. The headlights shine on swings and a slide covered in snow.

MADDIE

Still kind of cool.

Elliot holds up a small glass paperweight. Rookie of The Year is etched into its surface. She raises her eyebrows.

ELLIOT

Pretty big deal.

MADDIE

Obviously.

ELLIOT

Might have a future at Talbots.

MADDIE

Daring to aim for the stars, huh?

ELLIOT

Fuck that place.

MADDIE

Fuck retail.

ELLIOT

Fuck Minnesota.

MADDIE

Don’t forget high school.

ELLIOT

(shaking her head) Can’t believe you’re in high school.

MADDIE

(smiling)

Can’t believe I’m in high school or the fact you slept with a high school boy?

Elliot play hits Maddie’s shoulder. He catches her punch. They hold hands for a few seconds before Elliot brings her hand back to her body as if suddenly self-conscious.

ELLIOT

You realize it’s the best time of your life.

MADDIE

What is? Right now? Pretty damn close—

ELLIOT

High school.

MADDIE

Shut up.

ELLIOT

Serious.

MADDIE

Living at home? Doing homework? Sitting in a building designed by the same company that made the female prison down in Shakopee? If that’s as good as my life’s going to get, might as well slit my wrist right now.

ELLIOT

Not responsible for a single thing.

MADDIE

Exactly my point.

ELLIOT

You’ll see.

MADDIE

Enlighten me.

Maddie lights a joint and hits it twice before passing it to Elliot. She speaks with her lungs full of smoke.

ELLIOT

What you’re feeling now — that anxious, almost humming sensation of being trapped — that’s because you’re busy imagining what it will be like next year.

MADDIE

Because high school sucks.

ELLIOT

Once college ends, you feel that same sensation.

MADDIE

And here’s where you tell me the difference, right?

ELLIOT

Smart ass.

MADDIE

But you kind of love it.

ELLIOT

Whatever.

MADDIE

Continue.

ELLIOT

No, forget it.

MADDIE

(feigning seriousness) Please.

ELLIOT

Only it’s different when you’re older. Every year you lose more options. Pretty soon you’re trapped, only it’s the real kind, the forever kind, the kind that seems worse than any shitty circumstance you can imagine.

Maddie takes the joint back. He hits it, thinks about saying something, leans his head against the window, then hits it again.

MADDIE

You talking about your kid?

CLOSE UP of Elliot. Her face is caught between horror and the masking smile of denial.

ELLIOT

What are you talking about?

MADDIE

It’s cool. I like kids.

ELLIOT

I don’t have—

MADDIE

My mom has the same stretch marks that aren’t from a kid.

ELLIOT

Oh my god.

Maddie turns toward Elliot. She’s obviously flustered, her energy pulled inward, her relaxed and high demeanor of a moment before completely gone. Maddie takes her hands. He moves his head down and to the left so he’s in her line of vision.

MADDIE

It’s cool.

ELLIOT

I should go.

MADDIE

Shut up.

ELLIOT

This was a mistake.

MADDIE

I like kids.

ELLIOT

(gathering her purse) Sorry.

MADDIE

Stop.

Maddie grabs her wrist. The sudden movement seems to startle them both.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Here’s what we’re going to do: we’re going to trust each other.

ELLIOT

Oh Jesus...

MADDIE

I’ll trust that this is the best time of my life. And you’ll trust me that once you hit a certain hazily defined age, you’re not out of options.

ELLIOT

That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard.

MADDIE

Then why don’t you just let yourself have fun with a boy in his peak physical condition and let everything else fall where it may.

CLOSE UP of Elliot. She rolls her eyes, but her mouth is smiling. It appears like she wants to protest, either like she really thinks it’s a horrible idea or she wants to be complimented and reassured some more.

She takes the joint from Maddie’s fingers and exits the car.

EXT. MLK PARK - CONTINUOUS

Elliot walks through the snow toward the swings. She’s mostly a shadow with a glowing ember. The dome light from Maddie’s car comes on as he opens and closes the door. Elliot brushes off a swing and sits.

From Elliot’s POV, we see Maddie walking toward her.

ELLIOT

So you’re okay with being a teenage fuck toy?

MADDIE

(laughing)

If you’re okay with being a twenty-something MILF.

ELLIOT

But not a cougar?

MADDIE

Most definitely a cougar.

Maddie sits on the swing next to Elliot.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Freezing.

ELLIOT

Pussy.

MADDIE

If I’m such a pussy, why can I swing higher than you?

Maddie starts to pump his legs. Elliot laughs. Maddie taunts her. She’s shaking her head, trying to catch up. Soon, both are pumping their legs, swinging almost perpendicular to the top of the swing, laughing and screaming like children.

INT. ROSEVILLE MALL - SANTA’S WORKSHOP - DAY

Children are running around screaming and laughing. Plastic candy canes line the little path from the mass of people waiting. Christmas music plays. A child picks his nose. A little girl pulls her green and red dress over her head.

Elliot stands in line with Ed and Terry Svendson behind her, and Jacob, her dark-haired and serious three-year-old, in front of her. She bends over and whispers something and he looks up, then over at Santa, and in a resigned way, shuffles over toward Santa’s throne.

From Jacob’s POV, we walk toward Santa, who appears somewhat terrifying, more old than jolly, his felt suit thread-worn and speckled with facial dander.

Jacob sits on Santa’s lap.

SANTA

What is your name, little boy?

Jacob stares up at Santa. He looks back at Elliot, who appears to be flustered. She’s kneeling over, glancing up over the candy-cane wreaths surrounding Santa’s Workshop.

Maddie walks by.

SANTA (CONT’D)

What do you want for Christmas?

Jacob’s bottom lip is quivering. His right hand tightens its grip on the crotch of his corduroys.

Terry Svendson, seeing her grandson about to lose it, nudges a crouching Elliot to go help her son. Elliot loses her balance, making several desperate crab-like crawls forward until she completely loses her balance and topples over. She knocks down a section of the candy-cane fencing. Everybody looks.

From Maddie’s POV, we see Elliot sprawled out across Santa’s Workshop.

MADDIE

Elliot?

ELLIOT

Busted.

Jacob gets off Santa’s lap. He seems to have composed himself, and maybe is even embarrassed for his mother. He stands looking over her. Terry and Ed have joined the standing and staring as well.

JACOB

Mom, get up.

TERRY

Cheese and crackers, Elle, get off the floor.

Maddie helps Elliot off the floor. She’s mortified. Maddie’s all politeness and stifled smiles.

JACOB

Who are you?

MADDIE

Maddie. Who are you?

JACOB

Jacob.

MADDIE

Pretty cool name.

Jacob shrugs.

ELLIOT

Why don’t you go with Grandma and Grandpa and I’ll catch up with—

ED

(extending his hand to Maddie)

Ed Svendson.

MADDIE

Madison Johnson.

TERRY

Ahh, Maddie. Yes, we were starting to suspect you weren’t real.

ELLIOT

Oh my God, kill me.

MADDIE

And likewise to the three of you. It’s a pleasure.

TERRY

See, Elle, he wanted to meet us.

JACOB

A bitch is a bitch is a bitch.

ELLIOT

Jacob.

MADDIE

Is that so, little man?

ED

So what is it you do?

MADDIE

I work at a store here. But I’m in school, at the U, studying film.

ED

A Gopher, huh?

MADDIE

Bleed maroon and gold.

ELLIOT

All right, we should be going.

Terry mouths, “He’s cute,” to Elliot.

JACOB

I’m going to be a stand-up comedian when I’m your age.

MADDIE

Rad. Let’s hear a joke.

JACOB

Knock-knock.

MADDIE

Who’s there?

JACOB

Queen.

MADDIE

Queen who?

JACOB

Queen my dishes, please.

MADDIE

(laughing) Clever, my man.

Jacob smiles and looks up at Elliot, who, for the first time during the interaction, appears not to be in the midst of a panic attack.

ED

Play any sports?

MADDIE

All-State third baseman in high school.

ED

(whistling) Bat right or left?

MADDIE

Right, thus the reason I’m not playing in college.

ED

Still, All-State is nothing to sneeze at.

TERRY

You should join us for dinner at Olive Garden.

MADDIE

You going for a Tour of Italy?

Terry slaps Ed’s arm in disbelief.

TERRY

My all-time favorite dish.

MADDIE

Tell me about it.

ELLIOT

He’s busy, Mom.

JACOB

Why’d the chicken cross the road?

ELLIOT

That’s enough, honey.

MADDIE

Why?

JACOB

To get a boneless eight-pack at KFC.

Maddie laughs, this one real.

ED

Come on, Terry, he doesn’t want to be eating with us. Why don’t you two go out?

JACOB

How many Wisconsin people does it take to change a light bulb?

TERRY

You’re right, go you two, get out of here.

ELLIOT

I’m sure he’s busy —

MADDIE

I’d love to. What time would you like your beautiful daughter home?

ED

(smiling) Before midnight.

MADDIE

(extending his hand again) Done.

Maddie sticks out his elbow for Elliot to take. She reluctantly does. Terry takes Jacob’s hand. They say their goodbyes and Maddie and Elliot start in the opposite direction. Maddie stops.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Hey, little man.

Jacob turns, smiling.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

You didn’t finish your joke. How many does it take?

JACOB

(beaming)

Zero. They wait for someone from Minnesota to do it for them.

EXT. WINTER CARNIVAL - LATER

Maddie and Elliot hold glove-covered hands as they walk toward an enormous palace made out of ice.

Families are everywhere. Kids in snowsuits play tag. Huge multi-colored spotlights illuminate the translucent walls of the ice palace. Vendors sell roasted nuts and hot chocolate.

MADDIE

My mom used to take me here every year. Used to pretend it was our palace.

ELLIOT

Palace?

MADDIE

Yeah, palace.

ELLIOT

Most boys would say castle.

MADDIE

Most boys aren’t named Maddie.

INT. ICE PALACE - CONTINUOUS

Maddie and Elliot stand in the entryway of the palace. The walls are easily four stories tall. Voices of children echo off the cavernous structure. Rows of ice sculptures line the entrance hall.

Elliot walks around a sculpture of an immaculately carved woman. The sculpture is naked, curled around a baby. Elliot takes off her glove. She runs her fingers over the sculpture’s face, then the forehead of the baby. Her fingers glisten.

MADDIE

We’d pick out which rooms were ours.

ELLIOT

Like The Mighty Ducks.

MADDIE

What?

ELLIOT

They do that in the movie... Never mind.

MADDIE

No, they don’t.

ELLIOT

They do.

MADDIE

Listen, I know a thing or two about the flying V and the mighty ducks man himself, and they don’t do that shit in the movie.

Elliot gets on her tiptoes and kisses Maddie. She takes his arm.

ELLIOT

Show me around.

They walk away from the sculptures, away from the crowds. It gets darker the farther they travel into one of the castle’s wings. They appear small compared to the walls. Soon they’re alone, tucked into a small room.

MADDIE

This is the help’s quarters.

ELLIOT

Paid or indentured?

MADDIE

Slave, I think.

Elliot laughs. She sits down, leaning her head against the wall.

From Elliot’s POV, we see the vastness of the vaulted ice ceiling. Floodlights change the ice from black to pink to purple to green.

Still in her POV, we focus on Maddie. He’s smiling. We see Elliot’s hand motion for him to join her, which he does.

We’re back to seeing the wall of ice looming above us.

ELLIOT

Who are you, anyway?

MADDIE

What do you mean?

ELLIOT

All that about going to the U. The Tour of Italy. They love you.

MADDIE

All parents do.

ELLIOT

Was that directed at me?

MADDIE

(Beat)

He’s a sweet kid. Smart as hell, can tell.

ELLIOT

The love of my life.

MADDIE

Not his father?

ELLIOT

Tried to convince myself, but no.

MADDIE

What happened?

ELLIOT

Caught him eating the pussy of one of his freshman students.

MADDIE

High school?

ELLIOT

College.

MADDIE

Still fucked up.

ELLIOT

Fuck him.

MADDIE

You’re supposed to say that, but you don’t have to. My mom was the same way. Always fronting like she didn’t care my dad slept with every girl he saw. Nothing wrong with admitting hurt.

ELLIOT

Back to my original question: who

are you?

An OVERHEAD view of the two of them lying on the ice floor. Elliot has brought Maddie’s hand to her chest. Maddie’s smiling as if he knows he’s saying all the right things.

MADDIE

I’m not following.

ELLIOT

Bullshit, you’re not.

MADDIE

(laughing) Serious.

ELLIOT

Want me to say it?

MADDIE

(grinning) Say what?

Elliot leans over and kisses Maddie forcefully.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Still not following.

The CAMERA goes back to the view of the arching ice wall.

ELLIOT

Where were you five years ago?

MADDIE

In diapers.

ELLIOT

(laughing) Dick.

MADDIE

It’s not too late, you know?

ELLIOT

What isn’t?

MADDIE

Everything.

ELLIOT

Thanks, Socrates.

MADDIE

Life. Family. Love.

ELLIOT

Hold the phone, cowboy.

MADDIE

You mean my horse?

ELLIOT

Whatever.

MADDIE

Why?

ELLIOT

Can we not?

MADDIE

Tell me you don’t feel it.

ELLIOT

I don’t feel it.

MADDIE

I’m not going to cheat.

ELLIOT

So we’re exclusive?

MADDIE

Fact.

ELLIOT

I can deal with that.

MADDIE

Because I lo —

ELLIOT

Don’t say that.

MADDIE

I do.

ELLIOT

Just don’t say it.

MADDIE

Fine. I don’t you.

ELLIOT

(laughing)

I don’t you, either.

The CAMERA loses focus in the cascade of lights.

FADE TO YELLOW:

MADDIE (V.O.)

Shit seemed infinite at that moment. Everything. Completely endless.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - NIGHT

The CAMERA backs away from the multicolored lights, focusing on a miniature Christmas tree. The beeping of hospital machines sounds rhythmically.

MADDIE (V.O.)

That was before Elliot’s dumb-fuck husband trailed me home from work.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE JOHNSON’S FRONT DOOR - NIGHT

Maddie stands next to his mother in front of their red door. Devon, the forty-year-old, slightly chubby and lightly bearded husband of Elliot, stands at the base of the three stone steps. He’s pointing a finger at Maddie.

MADDIE (V.O.)

And said:

DEVON

(his mouth is moving, but it’s Maddie’s voice)

I’m the husband of the wife your son’s fucking.

CUT TO:

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - CONTINUOUS

The CAMERA pans from Maddie sitting in an uncomfortable chair to the small hanging television. The monitor shows black-and-white footage of what appears to be a security tape from a clothing store. There’s no sound. A woman comes storming into the store and starts screaming and waving her hand at another woman. The first woman slaps her. Then there’s a tussle, and the attacking woman falls headfirst into the metal edge of a clothing rack.

MADDIE (V.O.)

And before my mom flipped her shit and attacked Elliot at Talbots.

The CAMERA pans to the hospital bed. Mrs. Johnson is dressed in a hospital gown. She has a bandage wrapped around the right side of her forehead. A wispy man dressed in black applies makeup to what little of her face isn’t covered in gauze. There are three spotlights set up around the bed. The man backs away, and motions with his finger to Mrs. Johnson, who speaks into a rolling camera.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Before my mom told the world that:

MRS. JOHNSON

(moving her lips, but Maddie’s voice)

Elliot Svendson raped my son.

The CAMERA focuses on Maddie sitting in the chair. The news crew is gone and it’s back to the beeping of monitors.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Before Elliot turned herself in. Before I called my mom a miserable cunt. Before I was sent to Des Moines to finish my senior year with my father.

CUT TO:

INT. MR. JOHNSON’S TOYOTA - MORNING

Maddie sits shotgun, staring out of the window at snow-covered cornfields.

CUT TO:

EXT. COMO LAKE - MORNING

Maddie stands there with his busted lip. He’s holding the revolver. Sirens can be heard in the background, as well as the cries of a baby.

Beat.

ELLIOT (O.C.)

Maddie, please.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Before any of that shit.

MADDIE (V.O.)

It was a perfect moment.

CUT TO:

INT. ICE PALACE - NIGHT

CLOSE UP of Maddie and Elliot. They’re both smiling as wide as possible.

MADDIE

I don’t you.

ELLIOT

I don’t you, either.

CUT TO:

EXT. COMO LAKE - CONTINUOUS

Maddie rubs his busted lip with the hand holding the revolver. We hear the sirens and cries and Elliot begging.

MADDIE (V.O.)

It was before I was even thinking about beginnings. Before I ever contemplated walking away.

INT. MR. JOHNSON’S KITCHEN - NIGHT

Mr. Johnson scoops store-bought mashed potatoes out of a plastic tray. He’s an attractive man, or rather has the appearance of once having been attractive, now doughy around a strong jawline. He wears slacks with a polo shirt tucked in. He’s tired but trying to be upbeat. He opens the plastic container for a whole rotisserie chicken and rips off a leg and thigh and places them on two separate plates.

Maddie stands across from the kitchen island. The condo kitchen has the feeling of being too small for both of them.

Mr. Johnson hands over a plate and motions with his head to the adjoining room.

INT. MR. JOHNSON’S TV ROOM - CONTINUOUS

The TV room is exactly that, a room with a sectional couch and a flat-screen TV. It feels sterile, inhabited but not stylized. Mr. Johnson turns on the TV. A college football game plays. They stare at the TV and eat from the plates on their laps.

MR. JOHNSON

Good, right?

MADDIE

Yeah, it’s good.

They sit there eating and watching TV.

INT. MR. JOHNSON’S GUEST ROOM - LATER

Maddie moves aside golf clubs in the closet to hang a few shirts. He places his hi-tops next to the sliding closet door. The room, like the rest of the condo, lacks any sense of personality. The lamp light shines against the white walls making them an ugly yellowish cream.

Mr. Johnson knocks on the door frame.

MADDIE

Yeah.

MR. JOHNSON

You have enough space?

MADDIE

Yeah.

MR. JOHNSON

Bed seem okay? Used to be mine, good quality, a queen. You have a queen at your mom’s?

MADDIE

A full.

MR. JOHNSON

Moving on up.

MADDIE

(nodding)

Yup.

Mr. Johnson looks around the room. He’s smiling, but it’s a bit forced and pained.

MR. JOHNSON

Feel free to decorate the walls. Posters, album covers...probably don’t have those anymore, but you know what I mean.

MADDIE

Okay.

MR. JOHNSON

This will be good. A fresh start.

Beat.

MR. JOHNSON (CONT’D)

A couple of bachelors living the dream.

Mr. Johnson laughs. Maddie doesn’t. Mr. Johnson taps the doorframe again.

MR. JOHNSON (CONT’D)

Well...

MADDIE

Yeah, night.

Mr. Johnson hesitates, unsure if he should try to speak to his son anymore. He waits an awkward moment before closing the door.

Maddie sits on his bed. He pulls his laptop out and opens it up.

CLOSE UP of computer. Maddie searches “Elliot Svendson.” A long list comes up. He scrolls through various “statutory rape” headlines. He clicks on a picture of Elliot. She’s climbing into her Tacoma outside of her parent’s home. She wears her knee-length coat with faux fur around the collar. The angle of her face makes her seem older, weathered.

CLOSE UP of Maddie’s face. His eyes are straining, fighting to blink, then finally close.

CUT TO:

INT. PSYCHOLOGIST’S OFFICE - MORNING

CLOSE UP of Maddie’s face. He opens his eyes. His face is relaxed, maybe high. The CAMERA backs up, showing him sitting on a leather chair. He’s wearing a thin gray cardigan, but dressing it down with black skinny jeans. He’s giving off the the impression of aloofness but there’s a hint of discomfort. The psychologist (same one from earlier) is wearing a gray skirt-suit. She crosses her legs. Her ankle bone rotates and then bounces.

PSYCHOLOGIST

How are you feeling about being here to see me?

MADDIE

Fine.

PSYCHOLOGIST

What does that feel like to you?

MADDIE

Okay. Not great but not horrible. I don’t know. Fine.

PSYCHOLOGIST

How is the transition going for you?

MADDIE

From what to what?

PSYCHOLOGIST

The Twin Cities to Des Moines.

MADDIE

(smirking)

Same city, really. Interstates and subdivisions. Malls with the same stores. Chili’s and TGIFs and Olive Gardens.

PSYCHOLOGIST

That’s an astute observation.

MADDIE

That’s a bit of condescension.

PSYCHOLOGIST

(frowns)

That wasn’t my intention. In fact, I was giving you a compliment.

MADDIE

For an obvious observation, which you said was astute, thus coming across as condescending.

The psychologist nods her head, letting the phony frown dissipate. She jots a note.

PSYCHOLOGIST

How does it feel being away from your friends?

MADDIE

(shrugs) Sucks, I guess.

PSYCHOLOGIST

How does the idea of making new friends make you feel?

MADDIE

Not much of anything. Annoyed, maybe.

PSYCHOLOGIST

Why’s that?

MADDIE

Because it’s something I don’t want to have to do. I mean, I know it won’t be hard, but still...

PSYCHOLOGIST

It’s scary?

MADDIE

No, not at all. I’m attractive and do drugs and make people laugh, which is all you need in high school, college too. Maybe life.

People want to be around me. Not worried about “making friends.” It’s just annoying because this whole fucking thing’s annoying. A waste of time. Unnecessary.

PSYCHOLOGIST

Why’s that?

MADDIE

Because she’s in fucking jail. Because I’m not some “rape victim.” Because it’s my mom’s own fault she went and bashed her head into that metal pole. But I’m the one who has to move to the one state shittier than Minnesota.

PSYCHOLOGIST

You’re the one being punished.

MADDIE

Right.

PSYCHOLOGIST

Does living with your father feel like punishment?

MADDIE

You’ve talked to him, right?

PSYCHOLOGIST

Yes.

MADDIE

So yeah, you know.

The psychologist smiles. She makes direct eye contact with Maddie. She holds the smile for a beat longer than normal.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

The whole thing is like a sitcom. The bachelor gets his teenage son and hilarity ensues. But there’s nothing funny about a man who has no idea how to be a father trying to be a father for the first time in ten years.

PSYCHOLOGIST

Like you’re being punished all over again for the divorce?

MADDIE

No, we’re not doing that.

PSYCHOLOGIST

What?

MADDIE

Connecting shaky Freudian dots.

EXT. WEST DES MOINES HIGH SCHOOL ENTRANCE - MORNING

The high school is a two-story brick rectangle. Windows are scarcely inserted at odd intervals. WILDCATS is painted in red above the glass doors of the entrance. A light snow falls. Students shuffle in.

Maddie walks behind them, his hood up, backpack slung over his shoulder.

INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS

From Maddie’s POV, we walk down a linoleum hallway. The walls are lined with red lockers. It’s crowded with the normal mix of high school kids (jocks, skaters, sluts, nerds, prom queens). The CAMERA is jostled every so often when somebody bumps into Maddie.

As we travel down the hallway, we notice more and more people double-taking Maddie. A skater-hipster gives a head nod. A grouping of three party girls give the CAMERA an up and down, the tallest giving a suggestive smile.

INT. ROOM 113 - CONTINUOUS

Still from Maddie’s first-person POV, we look at a printed schedule, then the green stenciled plate above the brick door.

We enter. The room is thirty-deep with students. They’re sitting in small desks, some of which have broken hinges on the fold-over section of the desk. A male teacher, mid-forties, chubby, has his back turned to Maddie as he tries to plug in the cord for his projection screen connected to an ancient-looking Dell.

We walk down an aisle. Students stare, some smiling, some nodding, some just dumbly blank. There’s an empty desk next to a brunette, dressed hip if not a touch slutty with a white cami and gray jeans, black glasses with her bangs flat across her forehead.

Break from Maddie’s POV to a shot of Maddie sitting in the desk next to her. She’s looking over at him.

MADDIE

Hey.

RACHEL

Hey.

MADDIE

Maddie.

RACHEL

Rachel.

MADDIE

I know.

RACHEL

(smiling) Huh?

MADDIE

The artsy hip girl sitting in the back sketching pictures of Midwestern mediocrity. Probably early decision to NYU.

Rachel laughs and shakes her head.

RACHEL

And you’re the jock turned stoner who comes to a new school when Mommy found your stash of custie-priced nuggets who thinks he’s better than everyone else.

MADDIE

More or less.

Beat.

RACHEL

(laughing) Yeah, me too.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

But RISD, not NYU.

MONTAGE - VARIOUS

(Modest Mouse’s “Custom Concern” plays)

A)INT. MAILBOXES ETC - DUSK - Maddie’s at the Formica counter filling out a form for a PO box. A balding man, too young to be bald, walks Maddie over to a wall of PO boxes. He demonstrates how to open the door, then hands over the little key.

B)INT - DES MOINES WEST MALL - DAY - Maddie walks through the mall. He turns into Zumiez. He walks to the counter and hands over an application to a twenty-five-year-old guy behind the counter. The guy looks it over, nodding, raising his eyebrows.

C)INT. MR. JOHNSON’S GUEST ROOM - NIGHT - Maddie sits on the bed. He licks an envelope. He writes: ATTN: Elliot Svendson. Shakopee County Jail.

D)INT. HIGH SCHOOL CAFETERIA - DAY - The cafeteria is full of students shouting and joking, the calls of the insecure as they vie for attention. The CAMERA moves down the rows of rectangular tables. Maddie sits among the hip/popular crowd. He’s telling a story, everyone laughing, hanging on his every word. He turns to Rachel, who’s sitting directly to his right. He says something and she explodes laughing and hits his arm.

E)INT. MR. JOHNSON’s TV ROOM - NIGHT - Maddie and Mr. Johnson sit there in a darkened room. They’re both holding plates on their laps. The TV casts blue light on their faces. Neither are talking or even making the effort to.

F)INT. ICE PALACE - NIGHT - An OVERHEAD shot of Maddie and Elliot’s faces. Maddie’s mouth says, “I don’t you.” Elliot’s mouth says, “I don’t you, either.”

G)INT. PSYCHOLOGIST’S OFFICE - DAY - Maddie’s talking on the leather chair. The psychologist is nodding emphatically.

H)EXT. PARKING LOT OF WEST DES MOINES MALL - NIGHT - A group of teenage boys skate underneath the parking lot lights.

They still wear sweatshirts and pants and beanies, but it’s obvious the weather has changed, warmed, snow no longer covering the ground. A CLOSE SHOT of Maddie skating. He prepares for a trick, his face all concentration. He approaches a set of four stairs by the loading dock. He kick-flips off the stairs, landing with a slight wobble.

I)INT. MR. JOHNSON’S GUEST ROOM - NIGHT - Maddie writes a letter by hand to a dim light.

J)EXT. PARTY - NIGHT - Maddie sits in a lawn chair surrounded by his peers. They wear short sleeves. They pass pipes. Rachel saunters over, her red plastic cup raised above her head as she sits in Maddie’s lap. She drunkenly whispers something in his ear.

K)INT. MAILBOXES ETC - DUSK - Maddie opens his PO box. It’s empty. He slams it shut.

L)INT. PSYCHOLOGIST’S OFFICE - DAY - Maddie is speaking, using his hands to reiterate his points. The CAMERA switches to his POV, and we see the psychologist nodding in a manner that conveys empathy and maybe something more. She uncrosses her legs, pausing for the briefest of seconds with her black pencil skirt spread open, in which we see a flash of her vagina, then she crosses her other leg at the knee.

M)INT. MR. JOHNSON’S GUEST ROOM - NIGHT - Maddie reads old articles about Elliot.

N)INT. PARTY BEDROOM - NIGHT - Maddie and Rachel are kissing, Rachel walks backward toward a bed shaped like a race car. They fumble with shirts and belts. There’s a yellow night light illuminating the toddler’s room. Rachel has her legs spread, and guides Maddie into her.

O)INT. ICE PALACE - NIGHT - CLOSE UP of Elliot and Maddie. Elliot inches over and places her head on his chest. He puts his arm around her. He presses his face to her hat-covered head.

END OF MONTAGE

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL GRADUATION - MORNING

The West Des Moines High School football field is covered in folding chairs. A stage is set up at the fifty-yard line.

About five hundred students sit in the chairs dressed in black robes.

CLOSE UP of Maddie. He’s high, smiling, the sun shining down on him. Something about him suggests freedom.

Beat.

COMMENCEMENT SPEAKER (O.C.)

Some of you will go on to have wildly successful careers. Some of you will become captains of industry. Some of you will help feed our nation. Others will invent new technology, create beautiful art, cure the sick, help the needy. Some of you will raise families.

COMMENCEMENT SPEAKER (CONT’D)

But all of you, and I mean every single one of you, will look back at your time spent in this high school and wish you’d done something differently. Taken a certain chance. Tried a little harder. Been kinder to a peer.

CLOSE UP of Maddie, who rolls his eyes.

COMMENCEMENT SPEAKER (CONT’D)

My challenge to all of you is to feel this regret — go ahead, really feel it right this instant — and now, go forward into your new lives with this memory of regret, let it shape you into a better person.

INT. THE CHEESECAKE FACTORY - LATER

Maddie, Mr. Johnson, and Mrs. Johnson sit around a table. They seem stiff, formal in their movements. Mrs. Johnson won’t look at Mr. Johnson, but only at her food and Maddie. She keeps squeezing his arm like her pride is too much to contain.

MR. JOHNSON

Didn’t think I’d ever see the day.

MRS. JOHNSON

Didn’t think you would either.

Maddie shoots his mother a please stop look. She smiles. There’s a faint scar above her eye.

MR. JOHNSON

Proud of you.

MRS. JOHNSON

We both are.

MADDIE

Takes a bit of an idiot not to finish high school.

MRS. JOHNSON

But to get a 3.5 average? To get into the U? Especially with all the other stuff —

MR. JOHNSON

Which is why your mother and I splurged and got you a present.

Maddie tries not to smile, but he can’t help it.

MR. JOHNSON (CONT’D)

Now, it’s not the most exciting of presents, but —

MRS. JOHNSON

It’s a thousand times better.

MR. JOHNSON

The new American Dream.

MADDIE

(laughing)

Enough already, spit it out.

MRS. JOHNSON

(grinning)

Your father and I are going to pay for your entire college education. You won’t have to take out a single cent of student loans.

Maddie shakes his head. It’s unclear if he’s extremely grateful or maybe disappointed. Maddie looks up from his steak, and he’s not crying, but close, flushed around the cheeks, his eyes glassy.

MADDIE

You guys can’t.

MR. JOHNSON

Shut up and say thank you.

MADDIE

(nodding) Thank you.

Maddie gets up from his chair and hugs his mother first, then his father. They all sit back down. The energy has changed.

The tension of marital failure and resentment has dissipated, if only temporarily. They eat. Maddie pauses, looks at his father, then his mother.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

This is nice.

MR. JOHNSON

Proud of you.

MRS. JOHNSON

So proud of you.

MADDIE

No, I mean this... Together.

(motioning to the three of them eating at the same table)

Instantly, the body language of Mrs. Johnson jolts back to resentful rigidity. Mr. Johnson places his napkin on the table.

MR. JOHNSON

The guy giving the commencement speech, he wasn’t all wrong, you know?

Maddie stares at his father. Mrs. Johnson arranges her fork and knife to three o’clock on her plate.

MR. JOHNSON (CONT’D)

Every life has one major regret.

(looking across the table at Mrs. Johnson, then turning to Maddie)

You’d be among the lucky few if that regret was already behind you.

EXT. CORN FIELD PARTY - DUSK

The CAMERA is at a BIRD’S-EYE view of squares of corn fields separated by straight roads. The occasional farmhouse register as a blip. There’s a change of color, green vegetation of trees next to a circular lake/pond. There are close to a hundred cars parked along the road. The moving bodies are like ants.

The CAMERA pans at GROUND LEVEL. The recent graduates are engaging in all forms of debauchery. One drunken kid keeps ripping up his graduation gown, flashing his stubby penis.

Couples make out. A girl pukes. Others shoot off bottle rockets.

EXT. THE HOOD OF MADDIE’S CIVIC - LATER

The party is still raging in the background. Maddie and Rachel sit on the hood of his Civic. They pass a pipe back and forth.

RACHEL

(speaking with smoke in her lungs)

This will be the best moment of half of their lives.

MADDIE

Depressing.

RACHEL

It will.

MADDIE

But not yours?

RACHEL

Getting rejected everywhere but the shitty U of M, so maybe.

MADDIE

(faking insult)

How dare you talk about my future alma mater like that.

RACHEL

Least it’s out of Iowa.

MADDIE

True.

RACHEL

But I’ll be motherfucked if this is the best night of my life.

MADDIE

Word.

RACHEL

FYI, you’re not Black.

MADDIE

Have you seen the size of my dick?

RACHEL

(laughing)

Not only have I seen it, it’s been inside of me, which makes my statement about your race all the more true.

They laugh, then are silent. They stare out at the pond.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

What’s your regret?

MADDIE

Why’s everyone so into that speech?

RACHEL

What is it?

MADDIE

(shrugging) Have no idea.

RACHEL

That you’re kind of a liar?

MADDIE

How do you figure?

RACHEL

Just don’t know why you couldn’t have told me.

MADDIE

Told you what?

RACHEL

Took me all of five minutes on Google to figure out you’re the unnamed rape victim. Then I saw your mom today, and she matches the thousand pictures online.

Maddie holds the glass pipe. He thinks, takes a hit, then another.

MADDIE

What would that have done?

RACHEL

Telling me? Gee, I don’t know, maybe it would’ve been the truth, which is usually how you engage with friends.

MADDIE

I’m...sorry, I guess.

RACHEL

(laughing) Sounds like it.

MADDIE

Just wasn’t trying to be that kid, you know?

RACHEL

The raped one?

MADDIE

(laughing) Yeah.

RACHEL

Was it?

MADDIE

Rape? No.

RACHEL

Did you love her?

Maddie nods, not looking at Rachel.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

Explains so much.

MADDIE

How so?

RACHEL

That you didn’t fall all over this. (looks herself up and down)

Thought maybe you liked dick, which is totally cool if you do, but—

MADDIE

We had sex. Did you forget that fact?

RACHEL

Once. And even a guy who loves getting pounded can convince himself that a pussy is an asshole.

They laugh. Rachel knocks out the cashed bowl against the sole of her Converse.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

How’d it end?

MADDIE

What’s yours?

RACHEL

She just went to jail, and it was over?

MADDIE

No, your turn.

RACHEL

(pretending to be lost in thought)

Probably that Glee exists and completely ruined our actual glee club with idiots thinking they could sing their way to stardom.

MADDIE

Serious.

RACHEL

(shaking her head)

Would you have done it differently, I mean like knowing what you do now, how it all turned out?

Maddie takes a second to respond.

MADDIE

No.

RACHEL

I thought I would. But not anymore.

MADDIE

Still talking about your glee club?

RACHEL

You know, when you first walked into English, I had this feeling.

MADDIE

Between your legs?

RACHEL

(ignoring him)

Like finally, fucking finally there was a guy I could relate to, you know.

(MORE)

RACHEL (CONT’D)

Like this vision of us together taking on the bullshit of high school in Iowa.

MADDIE

Rach, I’m sorry, I just wasn’t ready for —

RACHEL

(shushing him with her hand)

Not looking for an apology. I think I realized it wasn’t going to happen way before we ever slept together, but I thought maybe if we fucked, maybe if we hung out more, maybe if...

Maddie puts his arm around Rachel. She doesn’t seem to register his touch, still staring straight ahead.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

But when I found out I was pregnant, I knew, I just fucking knew it was never going to be a thing.

MADDIE

(panic registering on his face)

Wait? What the fuck are you saying? Are you pregnant?

RACHEL

No.

MADDIE

Did you get an...

RACHEL

(shakes her head)

Chemical miscarriage like a week later.

MADDIE

Was it mine?

RACHEL

Yeah.

MADDIE

And you’re...

RACHEL

Not pregnant.

MADDIE

I had no... Why didn’t you tell me?

RACHEL

That was it. My big regret.

MADDIE

Why didn’t you say anything?

RACHEL

But maybe that guy giving the speech today was wrong.

Rachel slides off the hood of the car. She takes off her sweatshirt and lets it fall to the dirt. She kicks off her shoes. She turns back to Maddie. She’s illuminated by a nearly full moon. She takes off her cami. Then her bra.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

It happened like it was supposed to. I’ll always be connected to you, but not part of your life in any meaningful way, which I’m completely cool with.

MADDIE

Come here.

RACHEL

And that’s the problem with regret: there’s nothing you can do differently, not in the past, not in the future. You don’t learn shit from it. It just is.

Rachel turns and walks into the pond, wadding up to her waist before fully submerging.

INT. PSYCHOLOGIST’S OFFICE - DAY

The psychologist absentmindedly taps the end of her pen against her chest, which shows a questionably appropriate amount of cleavage.

PSYCHOLOGIST

How did this news make you feel?

MADDIE

I don’t know. Horrible. Relieved. Guilty.

Beat.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Angry for some reason.

PSYCHOLOGIST

That Rachel kept this news from you?

MADDIE

I guess.

PSYCHOLOGIST

Why is that?

MADDIE

Because...I don’t know. I mean, I didn’t want a kid, don’t want a kid, but it’s like the girl holds all the power. I’m going about my life and have no idea everything could change.

PSYCHOLOGIST

A sense of powerlessness.

MADDIE

Exactly.

PSYCHOLOGIST

Because she just as easily could’ve had the child.

MADDIE

Yeah.

(adjusting in the leather chair)

I mean, it worked itself out on its own with the whole miscarriage thing, but yeah.

PSYCHOLOGIST

I’m sensing some hesitation on your part. Do you believe her?

MADDIE

About the pregnancy?

PSYCHOLOGIST

Sure, both about the pregnancy and the cause of its termination.

MADDIE

What? Yeah. I don’t know. Yeah, Rachel won’t lie about that.

The psychologist nods. She adjusts herself in her seat. A quick CLOSE UP of her inner thigh from Maddie’s POV.

PSYCHOLOGIST

You’d be amazed at what women are willing to lie about in order to get what they think they want.

INT. MAILBOXES ECT. - NIGHT

Maddie opens up his PO box. There’s a single letter in a white envelope. He rips open the top. It’s a handwritten note, and all we see is “Dear Maddie” before Maddie closes the PO box and rushes out to his car.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - LATER

He’s driving past strip malls. The lights of fast-food restaurants and check-cashing depots cast neon on his face.

ELLIOT (V.O.)

There’s really no words for this. It sounds cliche, but it’s true. There’s not a single thing I can say that reiterates and conveys exactly how I feel. But I’ll try.

A light mist is falling. There’s traffic. Maddie struggles to make his way into a left turn lane, then runs a questionably yellow light.

ELLIOT (V.O.)

I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry like I’ve never been for a single thing in my life and like you’ll never know. I’m sorry I did what I did. Even though I thought you were eighteen, my actions were completely fucked. You were a kid in many ways, and I robbed you of something you won’t realize until you’re older.

Maddie speeds along a two-lane road. Walls of corn form a darkened tunnel around him.

ELLIOT (V.O.)

I’m sorry I didn’t respond to a single letter until now. I’m sorry my refusal to do so probably kept a bit of hope for us alive.

Maddie enters a residential area. The houses are all replicas of one another, some with garage front-left, others with garage front-right.

ELLIOT (V.O.)

I’m sorry that you became tangled up in my messy marriage. That I had to use you, not intentionally, but still to the same effect, to figure out I love Devon.

Maddie parks in front of a two-story home in a cul-de-sac. He flips up his hood and hurries out of the car.

ELLIOT (V.O.)

Our marriage isn’t perfect, far from it, but I love him. I love my son. I love Devon’s baby girl I’m carrying inside me.

EXT. RACHEL’S FRONT DOOR - CONTINUOUS

Maddie rings the doorbell. An ascending chime progression can be heard inside the house, followed by footsteps coming downstairs.

ELLIOT (V.O.)

That night in the ice palace, I didn’t want you to say “love.” It wasn’t because I didn’t feel the same thing, but because I knew, at some level, that I had to return to my family.

The door opens. Rachel stands there in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. She smiles but then sees Maddie, and her face instantly turns to concern.

ELLIOT (V.O.)

Be well, Maddie. You’ll make some girl happy beyond her wildest dreams.

MADDIE

Did it really happen?

RACHEL

What?

MADDIE

The pregnancy?

Rachels shushes him and pushes him outside of the doorway, closing the door behind her.

RACHEL

What the... Be quiet.

MADDIE

Did it?

RACHEL

Yes. But whatever. It’s over, done, just be quiet.

MADDIE

Did you get an...

Rachel’s shaking her head. Her cheek pulls inward as she bites it. She’s trying not to cry.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Why?

RACHEL

What do you want from me?

MADDIE

To be there. To fucking be there. To smell your stale breath in the morning and to listen to you snore. To fucking, like, I don’t know, to do this, you know? Like really do it.

RACHEL

What about —

MADDIE

That’s my regret. Chasing something that wasn’t there. Never was. While you’re —

Rachel leans forward and kisses Maddie tenderly on the lips. She backs away, wiping tears from her eyes.

RACHEL

That was the cheesiest fucking thing since Sixteen Candles.

MADDIE

Fuck off and die.

RACHEL

But I loved it.

MADDIE

Love you.

RACHEL

Love you too.

INT. CLASSROOM - DAY

Maddie sits in a large, stadium-tiered lecture hall. He has a laptop open taking notes. He seems interested, excited.

PROFESSOR

The outlines for your scripts are due on Monday, so remember that when you’re debating between your second and third keg stand this weekend.

The students all laugh. Maddie slips his computer into his backpack and files out of the class.

EXT. COURTYARD - CONTINUOUS

It’s fall, the leaves have turned, sweatshirt weather, slightly overcast. Maddie walks among hundreds of others.

CLOSE UP of Maddie. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. CLOSE UP of phone. It’s a text message from Rachel: Get me a sandwich and I’ll make it worth ur while.

Maddie laughs.

INT. JIMMY JOHN’S - CONTINUOUS

Maddie walks through the door. Reggae plays. There’s a small line of people. He’s texting as he stands in line.

ELLIOT

Maddie?

Maddie looks up, then to his left. Elliot sits at a two-person table. She’s wearing jeans and a wrap-sweater, her hair a touch longer, her eyes darkened with the lack of sleep. She holds a sandwich in one hand.

Maddie stares at her, unsure what to say or do.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Jesus, man, it’s been forever.

Elliot stands. Maddie still hasn’t moved. His normal composure is shot.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Come here.

Elliot bridges the four-foot gap between them with her arms outstretched. She hugs Maddie.

CUT TO:

INT. ICE PALACE - NIGHT

CLOSE UP of Elliot’s face buried in the nook of Maddie’s neck.

MADDIE

I don’t you.

ELLIOT

I don’t you, either.

CUT TO:

INT. JIMMY JOHN’S - CONTINUOUS

Elliot lets go of Maddie. He stares, blinks, a tiny bit of composure creeping across his face.

MADDIE

Hey.

ELLIOT

Is for horses. Shit, it’s good to see you. What are you doing here?

MADDIE

Umm, eating after class.

ELLIOT

Going to the U? Good for you, that’s really rad.

MADDIE

What are...when’d you..how’s...

ELLIOT

Running errands. July. Things are good.

MADDIE

Good. That’s good.

ELLIOT

Yeah, totally. And you?

MADDIE

Fine.

ELLIOT

You look good, happy.

Maddie nods.

CLOSE UP of Elliot. She maybe doesn’t look all that good herself. It’s hard to tell if it’s exhaustion or depression. Random strands of her hair slip across her face. She has bangs now, short ones resting a good three inches above her eyebrows. Something severe has happened to the skin around her face; it’s tighter, stretched across her cheekbones.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Pull up a chair.

Maddie glances at his phone, which has chimed with a new text. He looks at Elliot.

MADDIE

I should be...

ELLIOT

(nodding) Yeah, totally.

MADDIE

But it was good seeing you.

ELLIOT

Totally.

MADDIE

Okay.

ELLIOT

Okay.

They stand there for an awkward beat. Elliot smiles, then Maddie does.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Come here.

She hugs Maddie once again. This time Maddie isn’t as shocked and pulls her with some force. The hug lasts a smidgen longer than normal.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Call me sometime? Catch up?

MADDIE

Yeah, for sure.

INT. RACHEL’S DORM ROOM - LATER

It’s a double room, tiny, half of the room a page straight from the Target catalog with its plastic organizers and matching comforter and throw pillows, the other half messy and dark, cut-out pictures and taped drawings. Rachel sits on the bed on the messy side with her laptop in her lap. There’s no sound, but she smiles when Maddie enters. He walks over and sits on the edge of her bed. She crawls over on her knees and wraps her arms around Maddie’s chest.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Just like that, it was different. I didn’t care that I hadn’t gotten Rachel a sandwich. I didn’t care that she said it didn’t matter, she’d still make it worth my while.

Rachel lays Maddie down and disappears below. The CAMERA slowly ZOOMS in on Maddie’s face.

MADDIE (V.O.)

I didn’t care that everything was great. School. Work. Our relationship. I didn’t care that Rachel may or may not have aborted my baby.

CUT TO:

INT. WOMEN’S BATHROOM AT CHILI’S - NIGHT

Maddie thrusts into Elliot, his hand cupping her bare ass, her thin blond hair stuck to his lips.

CUT TO:

INT. RACHEL’S DORM ROOM - CONTINUOUS

CLOSE UP of Maddie’s face. There’s a soft sucking sound from below.

MADDIE (V.O.)

I didn’t care that Elliot had bashed my mom’s face into a metal rack. That I had to leave the state because I became a rape victim.

That she’d ignored me for close to a year before finally writing me, telling me it’d all been a mistake, one she had to make in order to remember she loved her husband.

Rachel comes back up into the frame. She’s talking to him with her mouth full, threatening to spill his semen onto his face. Maddie doesn’t flinch, still staring straight into the OVERHEAD CAMERA.

MADDIE (V.O.)

All I cared about was seeing Elliot again.

Rachel swallows with a grimace. She nestles into Maddie’s neck.

Beat.

MADDIE (V.O.)

All I cared about was having a second chance.

MADDIE (V.O.)

So maybe that was really where this story started.

EXT. THE CABOOZE ENTRANCE - NIGHT

The Cabooze is a small bar/venue, crumbling brick, barred windows. Seven or eight Harley’s are parked out front. A few hipster types smoke cigarettes in a small group. Maddie walks toward the entrance.

MADDIE (V.O.)

I waited three weeks to finally text Elliot. I thought about what to say the entire time. I settled on making something up about having seen that bitch with the fat face who worked at Talbots.

Beat.

MADDIE (V.O.)

She wrote back in ten minutes.

White lettering fills the foreground of the screen, the image of Maddie walking toward the Cabooze still in the background: What a bitch. Haven’t thought about her in ages. Lol.

Light blue lettering: Face is even fatter.

White lettering: Puff fish.

Light blue lettering: Think it’s called a blow fish.

White lettering: She recognize you?

Light blue lettering: Think so, unless she stares at everyone all psycho-like.

White lettering: lol. U see her at mall? U still work at Zumiez.

Light blue lettering: No and no. Trying to never work retail again.

White lettering: Feel you. Light blue lettering: You?

White lettering: Would rather die. What u up to later? I want to apologize in person.

INT. THE CABOOZE - CONTINUOUS

The bar is dark, smokey. A band plays in the far corner. There’s an island bar which two thirty-something women work behind. It’s not crowded but it’s not deserted. There seems to be an even mix between college hipsters and ridden-hard-put-up-wet bikers. Maddie gives a fake ID to a bouncer who barely looks at it.

Light blue lettering: Nothing really.

White lettering: U want to grab a drink or something? Light blue lettering: K. U know the Cabooze?

White lettering: U a biker now?

Light blue lettering: Hipster bar now, but maybe when you were college-aged it was biker...

White lettering: Fuck off and die. See you there.

Maddie walks through the bar. He’s looking around for Elliot, while trying not to appear too eager. He eventually sees her toward the back of the bar sitting at a two-person high-top.

MEDIUM SHOT of Elliot sitting at the table. She’s dressed modestly in tight jeans and a cardigan. She rests her fingers around a bottle of a beer.

Maddie walks over. She smiles, makes half an effort to get up from her stool to hug him. Maddie sits opposite her.

The band starts playing a soulful cover of The Velvet Underground’s “Oh! Sweet Nothing.”

ELLIOT

Still pretty biker heavy, fuck you very much.

MADDIE

(laughing)

See the number of ironic handlebar mustaches in here?

ELLIOT

Touché.

MADDIE

Although, to be fair, I passed at least three pair of leather chaps on the way in.

ELLIOT

Maybe those are just hip now?

MADDIE

Beats the hell out of me.

ELLIOT

Yeah.

A waitress walks by, and Elliot motions for two more beers.

Maddie turns away from Elliot when she turns toward him. He looks at the band. The singer is older than the rest of the band, probably forty, skinny like he collected every letter of hepatitis. The one spotlight shines too brightly on him, making half his face orange.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

So how’s college life? Everything you hoped for?

MADDIE

(shrugging)

Guess so. Pretty much. Yeah.

ELLIOT

Good.

MADDIE

Not much into frat parties and date rape, so I try to do my own thing.

ELLIOT

What? Rohypnol’s a rite of college passage.

MADDIE

(laughing)

Practically sell the two-for-one kit of roofies and Plan B outside of every party.

Elliot laughs. The server brings over two bottles. Elliot raises hers. They clink necks.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

And parenthood, round two?

ELLIOT

(rolling her eyes)

Would kill for two hours of sleep, but it’s good.

MADDIE

Nice.

ELLIOT

Yeah.

MADDIE

And your lovely husband?

ELLIOT

Is lovely.

Maddie’s smiling, expecting Elliot to, but she doesn’t, looking down, rolling her bottle around its circular edge.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

And your love life?

MADDIE

It’s okay.

ELLIOT

(forced shock and interest)

Is there a special somebody?

MADDIE

I don’t know. Kind of.

ELLIOT

(making a show of being interested and not jealous)

Give me the goods.

MADDIE

Rachel. We went to high school together in Iowa.

ELLIOT

(nodding)

High school sweetheart, cute. I like that.

MADDIE

Yeah.

ELLIOT

You love her?

Maddie seems a bit uncomfortable by the question. He’s looking at the band. They’re into the first chorus of the song. A few older bikers slow dance.

MADDIE

A little. Yeah. No. I don’t know.

Elliot nods with an unnatural smile on her face. She takes a pull of her beer.

ELLIOT

(slightly melancholic) I’m happy for you.

There’s an awkward silence. Maddie seems to sense the shift from flirty banter to resigned regret. He leans forward.

MADDIE

You okay?

ELLIOT

You remember the swing set?

MADDIE

Yeah.

ELLIOT

For some reason, when I was...inside or whatever, I would think about that night. Like everything about it. I’d be lying there on that horrible mattress, and feel the cold of the swing seat, that butterfly sensation in my stomach from the motion.

MADDIE

Yeah.

Beat.

ELLIOT

That was the only way I’d be able to sleep, to think about that, to recreate it.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Weird, right?

MADDIE

(shaking his head)

Did the same thing with the ice palace.

ELLIOT

(laughing)

That’s right, you called it a

palace. So dainty of you.

MADDIE

Shut up.

Elliot’s staring at Maddie. He smiles. Elliot doesn’t.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

What?

Elliot continues staring. She slowly shakes her head.

ELLIOT

(almost under her breath) Could have been different with you, boy.

Elliot stands. Maddie’s face is nothing but confusion. She extends her hand. Maddie understands she’s asking him to dance, and he laughs, shaking his head.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Gonna make a girl beg?

Elliot leads Maddie past a few tables to the dance floor. Most people stand with drinks in their hands, slightly swaying. The older biker couple still dances. Elliot turns, wraps her arms around Maddie’s neck. Maddie does the same to the small of her back. Elliot places her head against Maddie’s chest/shoulder. The CAMERA slowly starts circling the dancing couple. The band picks up their intensity, the singer bending as he belts out the refrain.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

I’m sorry.

MADDIE

Stop.

ELLIOT

Jacob still asks about you. He says, “Where’d that funny guy go?”

Maddie grins into Elliot’s hair.

MADDIE

He still talk about bitches being bitches?

ELLIOT

(ignoring his question)

She reminds me of you. I know it’s messed up, but she does.

MADDIE

Who?

ELLIOT

Netta-Mae.

MADDIE

That’s your daughter’s name?

ELLIOT

Our.

The CAMERA picks up its circular speed, now almost dizzying. The song is at its climax. Maddie stops his shuffling slow dancing. He stares down at Elliot, who stares back, completely unflinching, serious. After a second, she gives the slightest of nods. The music is at a deafening crescendo.

The CAMERA spins and spins. Maddie cups Elliot’s face. He leans down, kissing her softly, then harder, the CAMERA spinning faster and the music louder, Maddie and Elliot kissing to the point of bruised gums.

FADE TO BLACK.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - LATER

Elliot reaches in the backseat to grab her sweater. Maddie zips up his fly in the driver’s seat. Elliot arches her back, so she’s able to button her pants back up. Maddie lights a joint. He passes it to Elliot, who waves him off.

MADDIE

Don’t smoke anymore?

ELLIOT

Joys of being on probation.

Maddie pauses, either in thought or summoning up the correct words.

MADDIE

So now what?

ELLIOT

Now what what?

MADDIE

I mean, with...

ELLIOT

Easy there, tiger. We go slow.

MADDIE

Slow like what just happened in the backseat?

ELLIOT

Slow like we just see what happens. We hang out when we can. We don’t do anything stupid.

MADDIE

What does that even mean?

ELLIOT

It means I was just released from jail for sleeping with you. It means I have no money, you have no money, so we sure as fuck don’t want to be out on our own.

(MORE)

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

It means we see each other a few times a week, enjoy one another’s company, and —

MADDIE

What about...

ELLIOT

Netta?

MADDIE

Netta.

ELLIOT

All in good time, baby.

CUT TO:

INT. RACHEL’S DORM ROOM - NIGHT

Maddie’s kissing Rachel, laying on her bed. Her glasses are slightly askew from their pressing faces. She moves her mouth down to his neck.

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - AFTERNOON

Elliot licks Maddie’s Adam’s apple. He slides his hand underneath the back of her shirt.

MADDIE (V.O.)

I started seeing Elliot three days a week when her husband was working.

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. MADDIE’S DORM ROOM - NIGHT

Maddie unhooks Rachel’s bra. Her breasts are perky, her nipples upturned and slightly puffy. He traces her left with his tongue.

MADDIE (V.O.)

I hung out with Rachel the other days.

MATCH CUT TO:

EXT. MLK PARK - DUSK

Maddie and Elliot stand underneath a wooden playground structure. They’re surrounded by wood and slides and monkey bars, partially hidden, as they kiss.

MADDIE (V.O.)

With Elliot, it was like being in junior high again. Like kids desperate to explore one another’s bodies without the safety of private shelter.

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. RACHEL’S DORM ROOM - NIGHT

Rachel’s bare legs are spread around Maddie. His naked butt flexes as he thrusts.

MADDIE (V.O.)

But with Rachel, it was different. There was something rehearsed and expected about everything from how I knew she’d answer the phone to the series of actions that led her to come. It was weird, almost like we were older.

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. MOVIE THEATER - NIGHT

The movie theater is deserted. Some horrible action movie blares from the screen. Elliot sits on Maddie’s lap, her jeans pulled down to her knees. She braces herself against the seat in front of her.

MADDIE (V.O.)

But honestly, it wasn’t even a question of who I wanted to be with.

MATCH CUT TO:

EXT. U OF M QUAD - AFTERNOON

Maddie and Rachel walk hand-in-hand. All the leaves have fallen. It’s overcast and gray. CLOSE UP of Maddie. He seems distant, retreated.

MATCH CUT TO:

EXT. COMO LAKE - AFTERNOON

Maddie walks hand-in-hand with Elliot. It looks close to freezing, everything blowing and dark. But they’re laughing. Maddie is telling some story, and he’s animated and excited.

MADDIE (V.O.)

We just had to wait for the right moment. That’s what Elliot kept telling me, the right moment, and I went along with it because why wouldn’t I? I was so far past the point of being able to walk away.

The CAMERA shoots Maddie and Elliot from the front as they walk. They’ve quit laughing, and now just walk holding hands.

ELLIOT

He’s cheating.

MADDIE

Who?

ELLIOT

Devon.

Maddie bites down on the tip of his tongue. He looks annoyed or maybe hurt at the mention of his name.

MADDIE

How do you know?

ELLIOT

I met her.

MADDIE

Who?

ELLIOT

This girl he works with.

They walk for a few steps in silence.

MADDIE

Is that why you’re...

ELLIOT

This has nothing to do with that.

MADDIE

(nodding)

You said that last time.

ELLIOT

(angry) You know...

(shaking her head and breathing)

Guess that’s fair.

They walk some more, not talking. A flock of geese take off from the murky lake.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

It’s different.

MADDIE

How?

ELLIOT

Because I lo —

MADDIE

(smiling) What was that?

ELLIOT

Because we have a child together.

MADDIE

Who exists only in pictures.

ELLIOT

Because we have to wait for the right moment.

MADDIE

Right. Like you keep saying.

Elliot stops. Maddie takes another step forward. Elliot’s still holding his hand and pulls him backward.

ELLIOT

Before, when we first met, I did everything because I wanted it. Because I thought I deserved it after what Devon had done.

Beat.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

It was selfish. I’ll be the first to admit it.

(MORE)

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

That’s why I confessed. That’s why I sat in jail for seven fucking months. Because I hurt you. Your family. My own.

MADDIE

You don’t have to —

ELLIOT

Just listen.

Maddie nods.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

For once in my fucking life, I’m trying to think about other people. I’m thinking about you. I’m trying to warn you that when you meet Netta, boom, it’s different. You’ll be different. This will be different. Your entire fucking life will be different.

MADDIE

Which is what I want.

ELLIOT

Which is what you think you want. But really you have no idea.

Because there’s no way you can.

MADDIE

I love you.

ELLIOT

Those choices and opportunities you still have...gone.

MADDIE

Say it.

ELLIOT

Parties and your artsy girlfriend and a future of living on food stamps until you sell a screenplay.

MADDIE

Say it.

ELLIOT

It’s gone. Your life as you know it, as you planned it, is gone.

MADDIE

You can’t do it.

ELLIOT

I’m trying to protect you.

Maddie shakes his head. He’s on the verge of tears. He turns and starts walking away. The flock of geese fly in a V ahead of Maddie.

INT. ROOM 113 - DAY

Maddie sits in class. His phone vibrates. A picture text comes up.

CLOSE UP of picture. It’s a photograph of Elliot holding a baby, who’s wearing a pink onesie, which reads Daddy’s Girl. The photo is accompanied with a short text: Mama and her baby love Daddy.

Maddie’s smiling, studying the picture. Students are leaving their desks. Maddie slips his phone into his pocket and gathers his laptop and heads toward the stairs.

PROFESSOR

Maddie.

Maddie looks up at his professor, who’s motioning with his hand for Maddie to come over.

Maddie walks over to the desk. The professor waits for a second as the last of the students leave the classroom. He’s holding a stack of papers.

A quick CLOSE UP of the papers shows a title page for a screen play: Statutory: Written by Maddie Johnson, Based on a True Story.

PROFESSOR (CONT’D)

Listen, I just wanted to say, and this stays right here, okay?

MADDIE

Okay.

PROFESSOR

I’ve been teaching this course, in some form or another, for the better part of two decades. And in that time, I can remember two scripts that weren’t completely horrible.

The professor taps the screenplay with his pen.

PROFESSOR (CONT’D)

Both of those scripts were eventually made into movies, one of them with Warner Brothers.

Maddie’s nodding, trying not to smile.

PROFESSOR (CONT’D)

And this here, at least the pages I’ve seen, is right on track to not being completely unreadable.

MADDIE

(laughing) Thanks, I think?

Professor nods.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

See you on Wednesday.

PROFESSOR

No class for Thanksgiving break.

MADDIE

That’s right.

PROFESSOR

Oh, and Maddie.

MADDIE

Yeah?

PROFESSOR

Be careful.

INT. THE JOHNSON’S KITCHEN - AFTERNOON

Mrs. Johnson is mashing potatoes. Maddie sits at the island counter looking at his phone and eating cashews.

MADDIE

Are you absolutely sure I can’t help?

MRS. JOHNSON

Sure.

MADDIE

You nervous?

MRS. JOHNSON

Why should I be nervous?

MADDIE

When’s the last time Dad set foot in this house?

MRS. JOHNSON

Slipped my mind that he was even coming.

MADDIE

(laughing) Right.

MRS. JOHNSON

We’re all adults.

MADDIE

Which apparently is different at forty-eight than it was for the past fifteen years?

MRS. JOHNSON

This whole I’m in college, I can poke fun at my mother thing is slightly annoying.

MADDIE

Isn’t it a rite of passage? Can’t tell me you didn’t do the same thing.

MRS. JOHNSON

Worse. I started calling my parents by their first names.

MADDIE

That’s so Seventies of you.

Mrs. Johnson raises her eyebrows and turns toward the oven. She opens it up, checking on the turkey.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

You were in college when you got pregnant with me, right?

Mrs. Johnson pushes the oven closed with a little more force than either of them expected. She turns around, wiping her hands on her autumn-themed apron.

MRS. JOHNSON

Rachel’s not pregnant, is she?

MADDIE

(smiling) No, chill.

Mrs. Johnson exhales, dramatically placing her hand over her chest.

MRS. JOHNSON

Don’t do that to me.

MADDIE

Anxious much?

MRS. JOHNSON

(shaking her head)

Quick way to learn how difficult the world really is, that’s all.

MADDIE

Make me sound like such a blessing.

Mrs. Johnson walks over to the island. She reaches across the granite and clasps Maddie’s hands.

MRS. JOHNSON

You are the best thing to ever happen to me. But your timing? Your father? The entire trajectory your conception put my life on?

Beat.

MRS. JOHNSON (CONT’D)

You’re the love of my life. Never forget that. But Lordy-be, child, you came at a price.

INT. THE JOHNSON’S DINING ROOM - LATER

Mr. and Mrs. Johnson sit at opposite ends of a rectangular dining-room table. Maddie sits in the middle. The table is done up in Midwestern kitsch, a tablecloth with gold and red leaves, a few gourds as the centerpiece, and enough food to feed a family of twenty.

Mrs. Johnson has her head bowed. Maddie and Mr. Johnson look at each other and smirk.

MRS. JOHNSON

I’m grateful for my son. How he’s turned out. How well he’s doing in college. Proud of him. Grateful for him.

Mrs. Johnson opens her eyes.

MADDIE

Can we eat?

MRS. JOHNSON

Not until we all say what we’re grateful for.

Maddie rolls his eyes.

Beat.

MR. JOHNSON

I’ll go.

(bowing head)

I, also, am grateful for my son. I’m thankful for this past year... Obviously not the circumstances, but the outcome.

MR. JOHNSON (CONT’D)

(slightly choked up but trying not to show it)

Sometimes you don’t realize how badly you miss something until you’re shown the alternative.

Mr. Johnson raises his head, and looks at Maddie, then Mrs. Johnson.

MADDIE

I’m grateful for second chances. And for the both of you.

They start eating. The energy is both familiar and awkward. It’s unclear if the lack of speaking is due to the food being eaten or the uncertainty of what to say.

MR. JOHNSON

Too bad Rachel isn’t here. Would’ve loved to see her again.

MRS. JOHNSON

It is.

MADDIE

Back in Iowa.

MRS. JOHNSON

She left this morning?

MADDIE

Yesterday.

MRS. JOHNSON

Thought you said you were hanging out with her last night?

MADDIE

(glancing upward) Umm...I don’t think so.

MR. JOHNSON

Things are still going well with her?

MADDIE

Yeah, pretty much.

MR. JOHNSON

Pretty much?

MADDIE

They’re good.

MRS. JOHNSON

Don’t get me wrong, I love Rachel, absolutely love her, but remember that you’re young, and —

MADDIE

Got it.

MRS. JOHNSON

Have your whole life in front of you.

Mr. Johnson gives Mrs. Johnson a quick shaking of his head, to which she rolls her eyes. Maddie sees the exchange.

MR. JOHNSON

And classes?

MADDIE

Going well.

MR. JOHNSON

Parties?

MADDIE

Not really my scene anymore.

MR. JOHNSON

And being back in the Twin Cities?

Mrs. Johnson freezes with her fork inches away from her mouth. Maddie picks the skin off his turkey.

MR. JOHNSON (CONT’D)

I mean, with everything that went on...

MRS. JOHNSON

We don’t speak about her.

MR. JOHNSON

I’m simply asking if it’s difficult, or if you’ve happened to run across each other.

MRS. JOHNSON

Will you please drop it?

MR. JOHNSON

I’m asking my son a question.

MRS. JOHNSON

Which I’ve asked you not to do.

MR. JOHNSON

Better off pretending that she wasn’t released from jail, and—

Mrs. Johnson drops her fork against her plate. She’s shaking her head, staring at Mr. Johnson.

MR. JOHNSON (CONT’D)

Are you really that naïve to think he doesn’t know she’s out of jail?

CLOSE UP from Maddie’s POV. He’s staring at his plate of food. Everything is the same brownish color and runs together.

CUT TO:

INT. THE JOHNSON’S DINING ROOM - FIFTEEN YEARS BEFORE

Still from Maddie’s POV, we see a younger Mr. Johnson throw a plate against the wall.

CUT TO:

INT. THE JOHNSON’S DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

MRS. JOHNSON

You’re unbelievable.

MR. JOHNSON

Can go ahead and bury your head -

MADDIE

I know she’s out.

Silence. Both parents stare at their son waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t, just looks down at his plate.

MRS. JOHNSON

Have you...

Maddie doesn’t respond.

MRS. JOHNSON (CONT’D)

Jesus, have you seen her?

MADDIE

No.

MRS. JOHNSON

I swear to God, if you’re seeing her —

MR. JOHNSON

Stop.

MRS. JOHNSON

You can forget about us paying for college.

MR. JOHNSON

Stop!

MRS. JOHNSON

Are you seeing her again?

Maddie shakes his head, his mouth open, as if he can’t believe how the dinner unfolded. He puts his matching cloth napkin down next to his plate.

MADDIE

Thank you for dinner.

MR. JOHNSON

Maddie, sit down.

MADDIE

(shaking his head)

You guys haven’t changed. Not one fucking bit.

MRS. JOHNSON

Watch your language.

Beat.

MADDIE

And the funny thing is, you two deserve one another. You’re the same, and you don’t see it. So miserable with your mistakes and yourselves, that you’re bound and determined not to have me turn out the same.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

But I guess you’ve done one thing right.

Maddie pushes in his chair.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

I know exactly what a completely fucked-up relationship looks like. I know exactly what to avoid.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - MOMENTS LATER

Maddie drives and calls Elliot. It rings once before going to voicemail. He tries again. This time, the phone goes directly to voicemail.

CLOSE UP of Maddie biting his bottom lip. His nostrils flare. He screams twice, smashing the palm of his hand against his steering wheel.

INT. MADDIE’S DORM ROOM - LATER

He lies in bed, smoking weed. He listens to The Velvet Underground’s “Oh! Sweet Nothing.” His phone vibrates with a text.

CLOSE UP of phone. The text is from Elliot: Devon’s working Black Friday. Tomorrow is the right moment to meet your daughter.

EXT. COMO LAKE - AFTERNOON

It’s a sunny day, obviously cold, but bright. There are couples and families walking around the lake. A multi-generational game of touch football is being played.

Maddie walks from his car. He’s carrying a white plastic bag.

From Maddie’s POV, we see Elliot sitting on a swing. The rest of the playground is deserted. She’s holding a pink bundle of fleece in her arms. She gives an empathetic smile to Maddie.

Maddie stands a few feet away. He’s nervous, maybe the first time we’ve really seen him this way ever. He looks between Elliot and the smushed face of Netta-Mae.

ELLIOT

It’s okay to be scared.

Maddie doesn’t respond. He stares at his daughter.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

(speaking down toward her baby)

I want you to meet somebody.

CLOSE UP of Maddie swallowing hard.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

You ready?

MADDIE

(staring dumbly) I got her a present.

Elliot gives the same smile as earlier, a mix between appreciating fear and bestowing pity.

Maddie reaches into the bag. He pulls out a foot-long pink stuffed monster. It’s a cyclops with a crooked smile.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

They said these were all the rage.

ELLIOT

(grinning) It’s perfect.

Maddie hands the stuffed monster over to Elliot, who nestles it next to her baby. Netta-Mae makes a fussy sound, and Elliot laughs.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

She loves it.

Maddie doesn’t laugh at the sarcasm. He stares.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Ready?

Maddie nods. Elliot stands.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Just support her head and hold her like a football.

Maddie reaches out his arms. They’re not shaking, but close. Netta-Mae fusses during the exchange. Maddie holds her somewhat awkwardly. The baby lets out a cry.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

(soothing voice)

Just relax. Everything’s okay. You’re doing well.

Maddie adjusts Netta-Mae into the crook of his left arm. She stares up at him. Her eyes are blue orbs. She doesn’t smile, just stares, studying intently.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

What’s it feel like?

Maddie stares down at his daughter. He takes a moment to answer.

MADDIE

Like nothing else has ever mattered.

EXT. COMO PARK - LIFE GUARD TOWER - LATER

The sun sets across the lake, a brilliant mix of deep reds and pinks. Maddie and Elliot sit on a raised wooden lifeguard tower. They’re bundled up against the cold. Maddie holds Netta-Mae in his arms.

MADDIE

(speaking while looking at the small waves)

It took like five minutes before they started fighting. Fifteen years, and in five minutes, they were screaming.

ELLIOT

(shaking her head) What about?

MADDIE

Doesn’t matter. Same shit as always.

ELLIOT

Sorry.

MADDIE

Not your fault.

They stare out over the water.

ELLIOT

You go through life thinking a family looks a certain way, you know, like the nuclear family. And as much as you tell yourself that’s a failed myth, it still sticks with you. Fucks up your view of any alternatives.

MADDIE

That why you went back to Devon?

ELLIOT

Probably.

Beat.

MADDIE

Why my parents got married in the first place.

ELLIOT

Why I got married.

MADDIE

Maybe it looks like this.

ELLIOT

Maybe.

MADDIE

Serious.

ELLIOT

(resting her head on his shoulder)

A sexual predator and her victim and their illegitimate offspring.

MADDIE

Don’t.

ELLIOT

Sorry.

She reaches into the front pocket of Maddie’s jeans. She takes out his cell phone. CLOSE UP of the image of the three of them in the camera. It freezes as the picture is taken.

MADDIE

Feels perfect.

ELLIOT

You’re one of the good ones, Madison Johnson.

Maddie kisses the soft hair of Netta-Mae. He gently nestles his chin behind her head. She holds her pink stuffed monster.

MADDIE

(possibly speaking to himself)

Nothing else matters.

ELLIOT

Love you.

MADDIE

Nothing.

FADE TO BLACK.

INT. RACHEL’S DORM ROOM - NIGHT

Rachel’s standing, screaming, waving a phone in front of Maddie, who’s propped up on her bed, his hands raised and upturned.

RACHEL

What the fuck is this? Huh?

MADDIE

Rach, please.

She’s in hysterics, her face blotchy red, tears and snot.

RACHEL

Oh my fucking God. You’re such a piece of shit. Oh my God. I can’t believe you. I can’t believe how stupid—

MADDIE

(reaching toward her wrists)

Baby, please, just calm -

RACHEL

Get your fucking hands off me.

MADDIE

It’s not what it looks like.

RACHEL

(snorts a laugh)

Really? Really? Because it looks to me like you’re playing family with that bitch who raped you. Did you forget that little fact? Raped you.

Maddie stands. He puts his hands on Rachel’s arms. She shakes them off, stepping backward, and Maddie does it again.

RACHEL (CONT’D)

Are you fucking her? How long?

MADDIE

It’s not like that.

Rachel throws Maddie’s cell phone against the wall.

CLOSE UP of the phone. The screen is cracked, a fissure running between Maddie holding Netta-Mae and Elliot.

RACHEL

Hate you.

MADDIE

It’s complicated.

RACHEL

Get the fuck out.

Maddie grabs her wrists with a bit of aggressive force. He squeezes.

MADDIE

That’s my daughter.

RACHEL

I don’t give a fu — What?

MADDIE

My daughter.

All of the fight drains from Rachel. She’s shaking her head, her jaw quivering. It’s clear she’s going through the thought process of having aborted their baby, Maddie cheating, Maddie being a father, Maddie ending up with Elliot.

She crumples to the floor, her back pressed against her roommate’s bed. Rachel pulls her legs to her chest. Her tears change from outrage to absolutely broken sobs.

RACHEL

(whispering) Go.

CUT TO:

INT. PSYCHOLOGIST’S OFFICE - DAY

The light of the psychologist’s office is fuzzy, indicating a fantasy. The psychologist crosses and uncrosses her legs. She leans forward.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Part of me wished to be back in her office. I’d be sitting there looking at the clock, giving half-truths that maybe were more than halves. Just to have somebody to talk to.

The psychologist adjusts her legs.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Rachel crumpled. She just fucking crumpled when I told her the baby was mine.

Beat.

MADDIE

Like she was completely broken.

The psychologist rubs her hands over her skirt.

PSYCHOLOGIST

How does that make you feel?

MADDIE

Like a bag of fucking dicks.

PSYCHOLOGIST

(aroused) Tell me more.

MADDIE

Everything was perfect.

The psychologist shakes her head teasingly.

PSYCHOLOGIST

That’s not what you said, is it?

CUT TO:

INT. YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST’S OFFICE - DAY

Eight-year-old Maddie sits on a leather couch, the light still hazy. The youth psychologist pouts her lips.

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD MADDIE

No.

YOUTH PSYCHOLOGIST

What did you actually say?

EIGHT-YEAR-OLD MADDIE

That nothing else matters.

CUT TO:

INT. PSYCHOLOGIST’S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

The psychologist taps the end of her pen against her pouted bottom lip.

PSYCHOLOGIST

Nothing else matters when you have what?

CUT TO:

INT. ICE PALACE - NIGHT

OVERHEAD SHOT of Maddie and Elliot. Netta-Mae is between them holding her pink monster. They all stare up at the multi-colored wall of ice.

MADDIE

Family.

INT. MADDIE’S DORM ROOM - DUSK

CLOSE UP of Maddie and Elliot underneath a single blanket. The sun shines through the blanket, giving enough light to see their faces.

MADDIE

What if they’re serious about college?

ELLIOT

They’re not.

MADDIE

My mom’s crazy.

ELLIOT

No parent willingly makes life harder for their kid.

MADDIE

Still weird to think about being a parent.

ELLIOT

Netta-Mae loves you.

MADDIE

But what if they really do cut me off?

ELLIOT

Then you get loans like every other kid.

Elliot traces her finger around Maddie’s nipple, more as a form of doodling than anything sexual.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Or you sell your screenplay.

MADDIE

Or work my way up to assistant manager at Zumiez.

ELLIOT

Fuck that. Rob houses before I let you waste any more time there.

MADDIE

(quoting Pulp Fiction)

All right, everybody be cool. This is a robbery.

ELLIOT

Any of you pricks move, I’ll execute every last motherfucking one of you.

They smile but don’t laugh.

MADDIE

I knew this guy, a classmate. Really weird kid. Used to break into houses all the time and steal random shit, like nothing worth money, just trinkets and stuff.

ELLIOT

I love that.

MADDIE

What about that could you possibly love?

ELLIOT

Invading somebody’s intimate space. Making it your own.

MADDIE

Creep.

ELLIOT

I want to do it.

MADDIE

Have fun.

ELLIOT

For my birthday, that’s what I want to do. You take me.

Elliot’s getting excited. She turns, props herself up on her elbow, her hand now on Maddie’s face.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

We go to some stranger’s house, look through their shit, take some stupid porcelain cat or something.

MADDIE

You’re serious?

ELLIOT

As syphilis.

MADDIE

Which isn’t that serious.

ELLIOT

The kind Al Capone died from.

MADDIE

(laughing) Horrible idea.

ELLIOT

You only turn thirty-one once.

MADDIE

You only turn every age once.

ELLIOT

Thank God.

MADDIE

What about probation?

ELLIOT

What about anything? Please, it will be fun. In and out. Can probably even sniff some panties or something.

Maddie laughs, turning to his right. He grabs a balled-up pair of black panties. He sniffs them.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Pervert.

MADDIE

Did you even shower today?

ELLIOT

Fuck off.

Elliot reaches for her underwear, and Maddie turns, making himself into a cocoon as Elliot crawls on top of him trying to get back her panties. They laugh. Elliot eventually stops. She’s draped over Maddie’s turned body, her face next to his, but at a perpendicular angle.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Please.

MADDIE

You really want to do this?

ELLIOT

There’s something beautiful about it.

MADDIE

Breaking and entering?

ELLIOT

(shaking her head)

The loss of opportunities you didn’t want in the first place.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - NIGHT

Maddie drives down River Road. The Mississippi is on their right, a darkened snake at the bottom of crumbly sandstone bluffs. Million-dollar homes line their left side. Elliot takes a drink from a pint of gin, grimacing.

ELLIOT

No, too nice. They’ll have security systems, not to mention wives making dinner.

MADDIE

Then where to?

ELLIOT

East side. Second and third shifters.

MADDIE

Criminal mastermind over there.

ELLIOT

You do remember I spent time in jail.

MADDIE

My little convict.

ELLIOT

Thug life.

MADDIE

(laughing)

Please don’t ever do that again.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - MOMENTS LATER

Maddie’s creeping along a residential street. The houses are tiny cubes, ramblers, most either gray or blue. There’s an inch of freshly fallen snow.

ELLIOT

Here.

She points to a darkened house. It’s nondescript in every aspect, except for a concrete birdbath with what looks like a painted bowling ball in its bowl.

MADDIE

Yeah?

ELLIOT

Perfect.

Maddie parks his car and hits the lights. He reaches over and takes two quick pulls from the gin. He sticks out his tongue, rubbing it against his teeth as if trying to scrape the taste from its surface. Maddie looks at Elliot. He’s nervous but trying not to show it. She takes his face in her hands.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

You Okay?

MADDIE

I’m okay.

ELLIOT

You love me?

MADDIE

I love you.

ELLIOT

Because I can have you drop me off at Chucky Cheese right now for my stupid birthday party, and we can keep playing this sneak around—

Maddie opens his car door.

EXT. OUTSIDE OF BLUE-COLLAR HOME - CONTINUOUS

Maddie shuts his door, careful not to make much noise. Elliot gets out. Maddie’s looking around. Elliot starts toward the house. Maddie follows.

At the front door, Elliot bends down, lifting a snow-covered welcome mat. There’s no key. She looks up at Maddie. She’s smiling.

Elliot walks to the side of the house. She runs her hand over the top of a row of dilapidated shrubs. She stops at the birdbath. She places her hand on the metallic orb, then rolls it to the side.

CLOSE UP of a house key resting underneath the bowling ball.

Elliot skips back over to the front door. She inserts the key, then turns the handle.

ELLIOT

(whispering) Honey, I’m home.

INT. BLUE-COLLAR HOME - CONTINUOUS

The house is dark, but light enough to make out general shapes and shades of color.

To the left, there’s a tiny kitchen, just large enough to open the refrigerator fully before hitting the opposite wall. A two-person table partially blocks the entrance to the kitchen. To the right, there’s a love seat and a recliner, the recliner heavily worn on the armrests.

CLOSE UP of an ashtray resting on the left arm of the recliner. It’s an upside-down sombrero with a cartoon mouse drunkenly sleeping in the center.

ELLIOT

That might be my keepsake.

Maddie hasn’t moved an inch from the doorway. He nods.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

Come on.

Elliot reaches out and takes Maddie’s hand. She leads him down a narrow hallway. There’s nothing on the wall except a single photograph, black and white, a stoic-looking woman’s face shot in partial profile. Elliot runs her free hand over the picture.

INT. BLUE COLLAR BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

The bedroom is sparse: a bed with no headboard, a TV resting on top of a three-drawer dresser, and a single nightstand made from a different type of wood. A quilt is folded nicely across the bottom third of the bed.

MADDIE

You think it’s a couple?

Elliot doesn’t respond. She bends down and checks under the bed.

ELLIOT

(speaking while still crouched)

Two sets of slippers. One here, one on the other side.

Elliot gets on her stomach, reaching underneath the bed. She pulls out a shoebox. From her knees, she sets the box on the bed.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

This is it.

MADDIE

Huh?

ELLIOT

Mementos. Keepsakes. Treasures.

Elliot opens the box. There aren’t any pictures, just a small roll of twenties and a snub-nosed revolver. Elliot picks up the gun. She holds it with both hands, pointing it at Maddie.

MADDIE

Can you not point that thing at me.

ELLIOT

Told you I was all about thug life tonight.

MADDIE

Let’s get that ashtray and bounce.

ELLIOT

Taking this.

Elliot stands, slipping the revolver into her waistband.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

And this.

She puts the money in her pocket. She closes the box and slides it back underneath the bed.

MADDIE

What are we going to do with a gun?

ELLIOT

Not about the gun. It’s about taking something of importance. And this guy keeps a pathetic stack of money and gun under his bed.

Practically screaming that this is his prized possession.

MADDIE

It’s a gun.

ELLIOT

Doing him a favor anyway. Can’t tell me he isn’t thinking about putting it to his old lady’s temple if she cooks him hamburger hot dish one more time.

Elliot walks to Maddie, putting her arms over his shoulder. She speaks into his mouth.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

I’m saving him from temptation.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - LATER

Elliot and Maddie are silent in his car, both lost in thought. It’s not hard to see them mulling over the question of what the hell they’d just done.

Elliot reaches out and takes Maddie’s hand, motioning with her head to a motel on their right. A neon sign advertises hourly rates.

ELLIOT

Still have like forty minutes before birthday party hell.

CUT TO:

INT. LAKE STREET INN - MOMENTS LATER

The CAMERA shows the inside of the room. It’s passable, but dingy. The white door is covered in black scuff marks.

The door opens, and Elliot walks backward while kissing Maddie. They lay on the bed.

CUT TO:

INT. LAKE STREET INN - MOMENTS LATER

CLOSE UP of Elliot’s face, her neck extended, Maddie’s hands closing around it, squeezing, her facial expression ecstasy.

CUT TO:

INT. LAKE STREET INN - MOMENTS LATER

Maddie is lying on his back on the faded red comforter. He’s naked. Elliot rides him.

You can’t hear her actual words, but you can read her lips.

ELLIOT (MOUTHED)

Tell me you love me.

ClOSE UP of Maddie’s face.

MADDIE (MOUTHED)

I love you.

MEDIUM SHOT of Elliot. She’s started riding Maddie again. There’s something completely unnerving about the look on her face.

ELLIOT (MOUTHED)

Fucking love you.

FADE TO BLACK.

INT. LAKE STREET INN - LATER

Maddie and Elliot are naked, sprawled out on the red comforter. They’re at odd angles, dead almost. The empty bottle of gin and the revolver rest on the bedside table.

Elliot stirs, rolling over. She stretches. Then her eyes open wide, panic on her face. She sits up.

ELLIOT

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Maddie stirs awake.

Elliot bends over the bed, reaching for her purse.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

My phone’s dead. What time is it?

Maddie’s still trying to come to his senses but gets his phone from the pocket of his jeans.

MADDIE

Eleven-thirty.

ELLIOT

(screaming) Fuck!

Maddie lets his head hit the cheap headboard.

ELLIOT (CONT’D)

What are you doing? Let’s go. We need to go.

MADDIE

It’s too late.

ELLIOT

Too late for what? What are you talking about. Let’s go. Now.

Elliot is frantic as she looks for her underwear. She finds them, struggling to put them on while standing. The way she bends at the waist to get her second leg in makes her stomach pouch out, her stretchmarks spreading.

MADDIE

It’s too late. Your party’s over.

ELLIOT

Shut up and help me find my jeans.

Maddie climbs across the bed. He’s still naked. At the edge of the bed, he rights himself on his two knees.

MADDIE

Elliot.

Elliot ignores him, scouring the stained carpet for her jeans. She’s crying the tears of the panicked.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Baby.

ELLIOT

Fuck.

Maddie grabs her wrist. She’s still searching for her jeans, which hang off the far corner of the bed.

MADDIE

This is it. The moment you’re always talking about. Right here, right now.

ELLIOT

No, this is...just help me —

Maddie pulls her close to him, still holding onto her wrists, which he pulls to his sides.

MADDIE

It might not be the best of circumstances, and like maybe we didn’t plan it this way, but it’s here, right here, right now.

ELLIOT

(whiney) No, no, no.

MADDIE

Look at me.

Elliot looks at Maddie, but fleetingly, before giving the room another once-over for her jeans.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Baby, look at me.

CLOSE UP of Elliot looking at Maddie. Her face is blotchy with sleep and alcohol and fear. With the CAMERA still on her face, we hear Maddie’s words

MADDIE (CONT’D)

I love you. I love our daughter. We’re a family. And we start right now.

Elliot’s crying, but the initial panic dissipates. Her face softens. There’s a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

INT. ROOM 113 - DAY

Maddie sits in the front of the class in one of three chairs turned to face his peers. He’s holding white pages. Two other peers sit there with him.

MALE CLASSMATE

(reading)

Can you not point that fucking thing at me?

FEMALE CLASSMATE

(reading)

Told you I was all about thug life tonight.

MALE CLASSMATE

(reading)

Let’s get that ashtray and bounce.

FEMALE CLASSMATE

(reading) Taking this.

MADDIE

(reading)

Elliot stands, slipping the revolver into her waistband.

Professor walks from the corner of the room, clapping.

PROFESSOR

Okay, I think that’s a good stopping point. A round of applause for Mr. Johnson and his readers.

The class gives a half-hearted round of applause. Professor turns to the class.

PROFESSOR (CONT’D)

Comments? Questions? Concerns?

The class sits there looking somewhat bored. Finally, a chubby blond sorority type raises her hand.

PROFESSOR (CONT’D)

Yes, Kate.

KATE

It’s just, like, I don’t get it. Like his motivation or whatever. Why is he even doing all this stuff, you know?

Professor nods, giving a frowning shrug as if contemplating the validity of Kate’s comments.

PROFESSOR

Are you speaking about the breaking and entering, specifically?

KATE

(gaining a little confidence)

Yeah, that, but also like even loving her because it’s so obvious she doesn’t love him. Plus, like, the daughter probably isn’t even his. It’s just really unbelievable that he loves her in the first place.

CLOSE UP of Maddie. He’s staring down at his script, stoic, or trying to be.

PROFESSOR

Yes, Joseph.

Joseph, a Midwestern type decorated as a hipster, leans forward in his desk.

JOSEPH

It’s as if the author is unsure if he’s ripping off Alexander Payne or Derek Cianfrance or...Tarantino.

PROFESSOR

(annoyed look on his face) How’s that?

JOSEPH

The whole gun thing.

PROFESSOR

Like Chekov said, if a rifle is hanging on the wall in the first chapter, it damn well better go off. And did we not see a gun in the first scene?

Joseph wants to protest but doesn’t.

PROFESSOR (CONT’D)

And are you not terrified to see the confluence of events that lead up to that gun being fired?

Joseph concedes with a nod.

PROFESSOR (CONT’D)

And isn’t that the point of any story, in any form? To unravel the mystery of the protagonist’s psyche at the precise moment he snaps, after which nothing will ever be the same?

Professor gives Maddie a significant yet fleeting look.

EXT. COURTYARD - MOMENTS LATER

Elliot greets Maddie. She wraps her arm through his. She’s upbeat, happy if not manic.

ELLIOT

Did you crush?

MADDIE

Crushed.

ELLIOT

Because you’re brilliant.

MADDIE

Something like that.

They walk amidst the hundreds of students. It’s gray and overcast.

ELLIOT

(using a fake male voice) And, Elliot, how did your appointment go with graduate admissions?

MADDIE

Sorry. How’d it go?

ELLIOT

(smiling)

Very well, thank you. They weren’t sure how many credits would transfer, but when I described my thesis work, plus my GRE scores, they changed their tune right quick.

MADDIE

That’s rad.

ELLIOT

Probably wouldn’t be able to start until fall semester, but still.

INT. DORM COMPLEX - MOMENTS LATER

The building is Soviet-style concrete. Maddie and Elliot walk past students dressed in maroon and gold. They wait at an elevator.

ELLIOT

Also called about a sublet on Huron. Cheap as hell, like $400 a month, one bedroom, but the pictures were nice.

Maddie leans over and kisses Elliot.

The elevator chimes, then the smudged metallic door opens. Mrs. Johnson stands there dressed in a Columbia parka. She’s about to step out, but stops, shrieks, her hand instantly going up to cover her mouth.

MADDIE

Mom? What...

MRS. JOHNSON

What are you...

Mrs. Johnson’s stare darts between her son and Elliot and then she’s crying and shaking her head and she storms past Maddie, jogging to the door.

Maddie exchanges a look with Elliot, then turns and runs after his mom.

EXT. OUTSIDE OF DORM COMPLEX - CONTINUOUS

Maddie jogs after his mother. He catches up to her without much trouble.

MADDIE

Mom.

Mrs. Johnson keeps running.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Mom, would you please stop?

Mrs. Johnson stops, turning quickly, her face a mess of tears and emotion. Her mouth is open, but she can’t find the words.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

It’s not like that.

Beat.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

I love her. Okay. I love her.

MRS. JOHNSON

Don’t.

MADDIE

She had my child.

Mrs. Johnson drops a plastic bag. Several items (Christmas Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, a Target gift card, a pair of Minnesota Vikings boxer shorts) fall out. We see Maddie realize this was a care package his mother was dropping off.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Netta-Mae. Her daughter. Is mine.

Mrs. Johnson stares at her son.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

I love her.

Wet snow falls. Flakes stick for a second on Mrs. Johnson’s face, but then melt.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Say something.

Beat.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Just say something. Yell. Scream. Hit me. Just say something.

Mrs. Johnson stares at her son. From her POV, we see Maddie, as if for the first time grown, a man, no longer hers.

MRS. JOHNSON

(her voice has an eerie distant quality)

You always wanted to be older.

MADDIE

Mom...

MRS. JOHNSON

And now you are.

MADDIE

Can we please go somewhere and talk about this...

MRS. JOHNSON

(shaking her head) I’m done, Madison.

MADDIE

What does that even —

MRS. JOHNSON

With this. With trying to protect you. With paying your way. With it all.

MADDIE

Mom, I love her, and I have —

MRS. JOHNSON

A child.

Mrs. Johnson turns and walks away.

From Maddie’s POV, we watch his mother walk away, then look down at the white plastic gift bag from Target, its contents spilled into the snow.

MONTAGE - VARIOUS

(Radiohead’s “Everything In Its Right Place” plays)

A)INT. MADDIE’S DORM ROOM - NIGHT - Maddie’s shirtless, his back to Elliot, also shirtless, who strokes his head with one hand, smokes a joint with the other. She exhales over his shoulder, bringing the joint to his mouth.

B)EXT. PARK BENCH - NIGHT - Maddie sits bundled up staring at the Mississippi. The dim lights of St. Paul shimmer in the distance.

C)INT. DORM ROOM COMPLEX - DAY - Maddie walks in with Elliot. He’s stopped at the front desk by a campus security guard, who’s speaking, pointing at Elliot.

D)INT. LAKE STREET INN - NIGHT - The room looks lived in, clothes all over, an empty pizza box by the door. Elliot sleeps. Switch to Maddie’s POV, and we see a discolored ceiling. There’s the joint for a ceiling fan, but no actual fan.

E)INT. MADDIE’s DORM ROOM - DAY - Maddie stuffs clothes into a duffel bag.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Elliot told me that with age, comes the loss of options.

F)INT. ZUMIEZ - DAY - Maddie folds a stack of T-shirts. Right next to him, a teenage girl carelessly rifles through some jeans looking for her size.

G)INT. ICE PALACE - NIGHT - An OVERHEAD SHOT of Elliot and Maddie lying, smiling, staring up at the looming ice wall.

H)EXT. MRS. JOHNSON’S FRONT DOOR - DAY - Maddie’s pleading with his mother, who stands there with both arms across her stomach. She turns and shuts the door behind her.

I)EXT. THE HOOD OF MADDIE’S CAR - NIGHT - Rachel stands in front of him. She drops her sweater, then her top. She turns and kicks off her pants and then walks into the pond.

J)INT. LAKE STREET INN - NIGHT - They sit in bed watching Charlie Brown’s Christmas on TV. They aren’t touching one another.

K)INT. MICKEY’S DINER - AFTERNOON - Maddie and Elliot sit at a dive. They’re eating breakfast, even though the sun is setting. They’re talking excitedly.

MADDIE (V.O.)

We lived in a crack motel for three weeks. We talked about getting loans. About finishing school. About becoming famous. We promised to better ourselves. To be responsible once financial aid rolled in.

(MORE)

MADDIE (V.O.) (CONT’D)

To find a nice place, somewhere with two rooms, one for Jacob, one for Netta-Mae, us the sacrificial parents coopting the common room with a mattress.

L)EXT. ICE PALACE - NIGHT - They’re at the current year’s version of the ice palace. They’re walking down a different corridor, this one wider than the previous year. They hold hands. Dark purples from the floodlights flash against the wall.

MADDIE (V.O.)

And if we tried, I mean like really tried, we could convince ourselves that we were close to all those goals. That they were still obtainable. That we were even trying to reach them in the first place.

END MONTAGE

EXT. OUTSIDE OF SUBURBAN HOUSE - NIGHT

The house is big, a clone of those around it with its front-facing garage and steepled roof. Elliot’s checking underneath the welcome mat, Maddie is looking for fake rocks.

MADDIE (V.O.)

And then we were out of money with ten days to go until my loans came through. We promised ourselves it’d be once, quick, an easy in and out, this time abandoning the pretense of doing anything other than robbery.

CLOSE UP of the front door. The door is divided into four panes of glass, each one five-by-eight.

MADDIE

And how do you propose we —

Elliot picks up a hand-sized rock from the landscaped area next to the door. She smashes it through the bottom right quadrant of the door. She reaches in, her coat covering her hand, and unlocks the latch.

She turns, smiling.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

That’s great. Really doing the whole leave no trace thing well.

INT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Elliot and Maddie walk in. The house is nice, upper-middle class, mahogany furniture and oversized couches. They both stop in the foyer, their heads tilted. There’s a faint beeping. They booth look around for a security system, but don’t see anything.

MADDIE

Smoke alarm battery?

ELLIOT

Just hurry.

They jog up the carpeted stairs.

CAMERA ZOOMS to the wall on the opposite side of the stairs they’re ascending. A white digital security system interface flashes red.

CLOSE UP of security system. It reads, “BREACH.”

INT. SUBURBAN HOUSE MASTER BEDROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Elliot’s at an ornate vanity, stuffing earrings and necklaces into her pocket.

A LONG SHOT shows Maddie in the bathroom rifling through prescription bottles.

ELLIOT

You good?

MADDIE

Our housewife suffers from boredom or anxiety. Every benzo known to man. And little Piper must have the world’s worst case of ADD.

ELLIOT

Let’s go.

Maddie comes into the bedroom. Elliot’s uneasy but kisses him hard on the lips.

EXT. SUBURBAN HOUSE - MOMENTS LATER

Maddie and Elliot speed-walk toward his car. They hear sirens in the distance. They run to the car.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - CONTINUOUS

They’re both frantic, Maddie fumbling with his keys, Elliot hitting the dashboard.

ELLIOT

Go, go, go.

The engine sputters, turns, but doesn’t catch.

EXT. SUBURBAN COMPLEX - CONTINUOUS

A patrol car turns the corner, lights and sirens on.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - CONTINUOUS

The engine finally catches. Maddie hits the gas, then slows, realizing a car speeding away would look even worse.

CLOSE UP of rearview mirror. You can see flashing sirens in the distance. They’re coming closer.

ELLIOT (O.S.)

I’m not going back.

Still in CLOSE UP. The patrol car stops in front of the house they just robbed. The dark shapes of two policemen rush out of the car. They become smaller and smaller as Maddie drives away.

INT. LAKE STREET INN - LATER

Elliot’s sitting at the dingy card table. She appears shaken up, vacant. Maddie’s looking at the pills he stole. He takes two Xanax, then one more.

MADDIE

So we’re done.

Elliot doesn’t respond.

CLOSE UP of her right hand. She’s picking her thumb cuticle with her index finger. There’s a tiny bit of blood.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Right?

ELLIOT

What are we doing?

MADDIE

Done. Fucking done. Never again, Okay? My financial aid is like a week away, and then we’re set. Put that behind us.

ELLIOT

Jacob started wetting the bed the first night I was in jail.

Maddie looks over at Elliot. She’s staring at a stain on the wall.

MADDIE

Nobody’s going to jail. It’s over with. That shit was a wake-up call, but we’re okay, we’re here, safe, like it’s all good.

ELLIOT

The only way he wouldn’t pee was to be curled next to Devon.

Maddie gets off the bed, walking over to Elliot. He kneels down, taking her hands. He notices her bloody thumb.

MADDIE

Hey, hey.

Elliot finally meets his gaze.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

You’re fine. You’re safe.

ELLIOT

What the fuck are we doing?

MADDIE

We were stupid. Really stupid. But we’re done with that.

ELLIOT

My milk is dry.

MADDIE

Come here.

Maddie hugs Elliot, but she doesn’t hug him back.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

It’s like we talked about, remember? Darkest before the dawn. Hard right now, but it’s going to get better. We get Netta-Mae —

ELLIOT

He wets the bed.

MADDIE

And Jacob.

ELLIOT

I’m a felon. What judge is going to give me custody?

MADDIE

Hey, baby, you’re freaking out. Totally understandable, because tonight was scary, but it’s going to get better. We’ll have a place, a nice place, two bedrooms, maybe three.

Maddie’s rubbing Elliot’s hair. There’s still a blank quality to her gaze.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

And you’ll be in grad school. And —

ELLIOT

What the fuck is wrong with me?

MADDIE

And we’ll get our daughter and your son, and it’ll be better, everything, perfect.

Maddie reaches into his pocket, pulling out the stolen bottle of Xanax. He shakes two out. He places them in Elliot’s hand. He stands.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Let me get you some water.

Maddie walks over to the sink, fills a plastic cup with water. In the reflection in the mirror, we see Elliot slip the pills into her pocket. Maddie walks back over.

ELLIOT

Swallowed them already.

MADDIE

Good. We’re all good. We just relax now. Like, watch some mindless shit on TV and tomorrow everything’s better. We’ll be better. Put this night behind us.

Elliot nods. Maddie helps her out of the chair. They walk over to the bed. Maddie’s tending to Elliot like she’s an elderly sick woman. He pulls the stained comforter around her chest. He turns on the TV. He strips. He hits the light and climbs into bed.

The light from the TV changes their faces from blue to yellow to white.

ELLIOT

You think I’m a good person?

MADDIE

The fucking best.

ELLIOT

A good mom?

MADDIE

Would’ve been lucky to have you.

ELLIOT

Think they’ll forgive me?

MADDIE

The kids? Absolutely.

ELLIOT

And you?

MADDIE

Me what?

ELLIOT

Forgive me.

An OVERHEAD shot of the two of them on their pillows. Maddie turns. Elliot stares at the TV.

MADDIE

Nothing you ever did to me needed forgiveness.

Elliot turns over, inching her back and butt into Maddie. He wraps his arm around her stomach.

ELLIOT

And you love me?

MADDIE

So much.

CLOSE UP of Elliot. Her eyes are open. The TV changes to red. She blinks.

MADDIE (CONT’D)

Nothing else matters besides you and our family.

INT. LAKE STREET INN - MORNING

The CAMERA PANS from right to left around the motel room. Winter sun shines through the dusty curtains. The room appears cleaner than it did the night before, lacking clothes strewn around the floor. The CAMERA makes its way to the bed, where Maddie is sprawled out alone.

Maddie wakes. He struggles with the brightness of the sun, rubbing his eyes, smacking his lips. He notices Elliot isn’t next to him. He makes a half-hearted attempt at raising his head and looking for her.

From Maddie’s POV, the CAMERA pauses on the card table, minus her purse and coat. Then it pauses on the clear floor and its lack of her shoes.

Maddie bolts upright, stumbling around the corner to the empty bathroom. He’s becoming frantic, his vision darting around the room. He rushes to the door and flings it open. There’s an empty parking space next to his Civic where her truck had been.

Maddie’s frantic, on the verge of tears, as he slams the door. It’s here he notices the Bible propped open by the edge of the lamp.

He rushes over, seeing an inscribed note on the inside jacket.

CLOSE UP of handwritten note: I don’t expect your forgiveness. She’s not yours. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

INT. LAKE STREET INN - NIGHT

Maddie sits shirtless at the card table. He’s crushed the entire bottle of Ritalin. His nostrils are lined with yellow. He’s leg won’t stop bouncing.

He stands, walking over to the bathroom mirror. He holds a pocketknife. His face is sunken, dead but twitchy. He holds the knife to his chest.

MADDIE (V.O.)

When I was eight years old, I cut my chest.

Looking into the mirror, Maddie presses the knife to his chest. A thin line of red sprouts up against his pale skin.

MADDIE (V.O.)

When my mom found out, she cried, screamed. Asked me why I’d hurt myself.

Maddie cuts another line in his chest.

MADDIE (V.O.)

I didn’t really know but said the first thing that came to mind: I don’t like it when you’re unhappy.

CUT TO:

INT. LAKE STREET INN - MOMENTS LATER

Maddie leans over the card table, snorting the last of the Ritalin. He grabs his keys off the table, then the revolver, stuffing it into the back of his jeans.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - MOMENTS LATER

Maddie drives, spun, his jaw quivering. Each passing car casts a yellow LENS FLARE. The Velvet Underground’s “Oh! Sweet Nothing” plays at a low volume from the stereo.

MADDIE (V.O.)

My mom sent me to a psychologist. The only thing I really remember is playing this game where you rolled plastic pigs and gained points depending upon how they landed.

Maddie drives by Roseville Mall. The lights from the parking lot are almost blinding.

MADDIE (V.O.)

That and something about it not being my job to make my mom happy. That sometimes your family felt bad.

(MORE)

MADDIE (V.O.) (CONT’D)

That I needed to distance myself from these feelings, learn that I was okay even if those around me weren’t.

EXT. ROSEVILLE APARTMENT COMPLEX - MOMENTS LATER

Maddie pulls into the parking lot of Devon and Elliot’s apartment. He parks. He hits the lights.

MADDIE (V.O.)

The psychologist told me that the only thing I could control were my actions.

Maddie gets out of the car. He’s holding a crowbar. He walks through the snow to the third set of windows on the left.

MADDIE (V.O.)

She told me about making decisions that were best for me. How this was a sense of empowerment that no amount of people-pleasing or self-harm could come close to achieving. She told me once I realized this, and acted upon this realization, I’d start to feel happiness outside of the love from the women around me.

Maddie struggles with prying the crowbar inside of the window. He eventually jimmies it open a few inches, enough to reach his arm through, which he does, knocking out the screen.

INT. THE SVENDSON-HESTER APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

Maddie climbs through the window. His jacket rides up, exposing the butt of the revolver. He’s high, both scared and scary. He walks past the sofa, where Devon sleeps with a fleece blanket, to the back of the apartment. He puts his ear to a closed door, then turns the knob.

INT. NETTA-MAE’S NURSERY - CONTINUOUS

The nursery is spotless. There’s a white matching crib and changing table, a white rug, a rocker with a matching side table. An electronic night light projects cartoon animals around the wall in a clockwise motion.

MEDIUM SHOT of Maddie walking over to the crib. He’s staring down at his daughter. He’s crying but smiling.

From over his shoulder, a shape steps into the doorway.

DEVON

What the fuck?

Maddie spins around. Devon doesn’t hesitate, charging Maddie. Devon barrels into Maddie, who goes flying, smacking his mouth against the post of the crib.

ELLIOT (O.S.)

I’ve called the cops!

Maddie’s on his back, his mouth bloodied. Netta-Mae starts screaming. The CAMERA is at GROUND LEVEL, and Devon’s descending on Maddie, at which point Maddie grabs the crowbar and swings, striking Devon square across the face. He slumps over.

Maddie rights himself, picks up a screaming Netta-Mae, and pauses, seeing the ugly pink monster he’d purchased her. He grabs it and rushes from the room.

EXT. THE SVENDSON-HESTER APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

Maddie pauses, looking at the closed door to the master bedroom and the exit. He rushes to the exit.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - MOMENTS LATER

Maddie’s driving with one hand, trying to console a crying Netta-Mae with the other. She lays in his lap. Blood drips down Maddie’s mouth. He’s rocking her, trying to get her to calm down.

CLOSE UP of Maddie’s phone. Elliot’s calling. He rolls the window down and throws it out of the window.

FADE TO BLACK.

EXT. COMO LAKE - LATER

The lake is a frozen sheet of white. The sky is so close to waking up. The playground is deserted, as is the path around the lake. Snow blows. Maddie’s Civic pulls into the empty parking lot.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - CONTINUOUS

Maddie parks. He’s crying, but Netta-Mae isn’t. She’s close to being asleep. Warm air blows across her few fine hairs. She stares up at Maddie, who’s stroking her face.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Maybe it’s not beginnings we search for. Maybe it’s alternate endings. Maybe that’s what you’re really thinking about when everything gets completely fucked up, and options are down to one.

Maddie’s holding Netta-Mae. He’s making cooing sounds. He stares out at the frozen lake, the sky gray as the sun is about to rise.

MADDIE (V.O.)

And you’re imagining how it could’ve been. You’re thinking about having met the love of your life six months later. You’re thinking about never agreeing to get your girlfriend a sandwich.

You’re thinking about never breaking into a house. You’re thinking about divorce, finality, happily ever after, you and your family together amassing the luxuries and resentments of the middle class.

EXT. COMO LAKE - CONTINUOUS

Elliot’s truck comes speeding into the parking lot. Devon’s driving, Elliot riding shotgun.

INT. MADDIE’S CAR - CONTINUOUS

Maddie positions Netta-Mae just-so on the driver’s seat. He reaches into his waistband and takes out the revolver.

MADDIE (V.O.)

You’re thinking about the happiest moments of your life...

JUMP CUT TO:

INT. ICE PALACE - NIGHT

OVERHEAD shot of Maddie and Elliot starring up at the multicolored wall of ice.

JUMP CUT TO:

INT. THE CABOOZE - NIGHT

The CAMERA spins circles around the slow dancing Elliot and Maddie.

JUMP CUT TO:

EXT. COMO PARK - LIFE GAURD TOWER - DUSK

Maddie holds Netta-Mae in his lap. His lips rest on her soft hair. Elliot leans her head on his shoulder. They stare out at the lake and the setting sun.

JUMP CUT TO:

EXT. COMO LAKE - CONTINUOUS

Maddie steps out of his Civic. He places his parka over Netta-Mae, then turns. Elliot and Devon are standing twenty feet away. They freeze when they see his gun.

MADDIE (V.O.)

But you’re not thinking about those moments as beginnings. You’re thinking about them as endings. The exact moments you wish could be encapsulated in time. The shit you could die to, happy or at least close, content maybe.

ELLIOT

Maddie, what the fuck?

MADDIE

Get on your knees.

ELLIOT

(pleading)

Maddie, you don’t have to do this.

Maddie waves the revolver in a downward motion. The calm tranquility he’d been exhibiting a moment before is gone, now replaced with panic, hurt, tears.

Devon and Elliot kneel.

DEVON

Just don’t hurt our daughter.

Maddie laughs, rubs the back of his hand across his bloodied mouth. Netta-Mae cries from the car. Sirens can be heard in the distance.

ELLIOT

Please.

MADDIE

Is she?

ELLIOT

Please don’t do this.

MADDIE

(screaming)

Is she my fucking daughter?

Elliot’s crying. She has her hands pressed to her chest and then her head starts shaking no.

CLOSE UP of Maddie’s face. He closes his eyes to the point of ruptured blood vessels.

LONG SHOT of a cavalcade of police cruisers speeding toward the lake.

CLOSE UP of Maddie’s face. His eyes burst open violently, and he screams an animalistic scream of the caged and dying.

MEDIUM SHOT of Maddie raising the gun. It shakes. He’s crying. He pulls the hammer back.

MADDIE (V.O.)

Elliot told me getting older was nothing but the loss of options. She said that was the tragedy of age.

Beat.

MADDIE (V.O.)

I didn’t believe her.

The deafening sirens abruptly cut out to complete silence. The CAMERA jumps between CLOSE UPs of Devon and Elliot and Netta-Mae.

Maddie raises the revolver, screaming, and fires three shots into the air.

FADE TO BLACK.

EXT. COMO PARK - LIFE GAURD TOWER - DUSK

Maddie, Elliot, and Netta-Mae sit there as a family, in love, still, content. Cold air blows across their faces. The final seconds of The Velvet Underground’s “Oh! Sweet Nothing” play.

MADDIE (V.O.)

I didn’t believe her because I was still a kid.

ROLL CREDITS END

Right-sized; Anonymous

(Jacob Svendson-Hester’s Common Application essays)

Jacob Svendson-Hester

339 Western Ave,

St. Paul, MN 55105

Office of Admissions and Financial Aid

Harvard University

86 Brattle Street

Cambridge, MA 02138

Common Application Essay Question Number 1: Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

My name is one that causes people to pause, to scrunch their faces, to squint as they try to place its familiarity in the vast reserves of pointless information inside of their minds. Most of the time, this facial distortion of memory recall is a short process, followed by a shrug, an air of indifference, a my bad, thought I recognized your name.

My “story,” on the other hand, is a different matter. People know that. You know that. You know me as the hapless little bystander of an illicit love affair between a woman and a high school boy, as made famous by the movie STATUTORY. You know me from three to four years old. You know me as a symbol of parental negligence, a victim, a forgotten layer of gravitas.

It’s a strange sensation, being trapped in the communal consciousness as a four-year-old. Although I am in no way comparing myself to a child star, I imagine the lasting effects may be similar. Adoration and support and unnecessary attention from everyone, from the person bagging your groceries to your second grade teacher, it does something to a boy, something—and excuse my clichéd metaphor here—resembling the flipping of one’s worldview lens, so that instead of one’s vision being corrected to a singular point, his outward vision blurs, becomes nothing but smudges of confusing movement, all the while affording others a more crystalline look at him. Eventually, when age catches up with people’s millisecond-long attention spans for sensationalized stories, the lens rights itself. The child star sees the world for what it actually is for the first time in a decade. It is with this correction of the perversion that a realization of one’s cultural importance is either accepted or rejected (obviously, most highly covered stories are of a child star’s rejection of said realization, and his subsequent spiral into self-destruction). It is this moment that you, the consumer of STATUTORY and We, Adults, don’t know about me.

This essay question is obviously about identity. I would surmise that most of the responses are about the reluctant accepting of ethnicity, sexuality, and religion. If I was a minority or confused sexually or believed in God, I’d probably have written the same thing. But my epiphany, however fleeting, was basically the opposite of anything I’d highlight to set me apart from ninety-five percent of your applicants. It was about assimilation into white suburbia. It was about becoming a face among many. It was about introducing myself as Jake, which I hate, both the phonetic sound of it and what it implies about men with that name. It was about becoming invisible, which, in a strange way, was fully realized, or at least I acknowledged in my freshman year of high school.

I was at a new school, this one private, my father teaching at the neighboring girl’s campus. We went around the room and introduced ourselves, giving one interesting thing we did over the summer and our favorite book. I was nervous to the point of dry heaves. I imagined my new peers staring at me, instantly placing my name, my picture eleven years in the past, my mother and father. There was Tim who loved Harry Potter and then there was Peter who went to soccer camp in Virginia and then it was my turn and I told myself to stay calm, to breathe, to be normal.

“I’m Jake. I worked at CVS this summer. It was horrible and fun all at once. My favorite book is Catcher in the Rye.”

A few people mumbled a hello. Nobody cared what I’d said. Nobody even looked at me. This silence and lack of recognition, still to this day, was one of the happiest moments of my life.

Which brings me back to identity: I am the Caucasian kid dressed in nondescript jeans and T-shirts, receiving a 4.0 at the twenty-ninth ranked prep school in the country; the kid who doesn’t watch movies because “based on a true story” is a lie that no person in America questions; the peer who never sleeps over at people’s houses because my friendships are only lunch-period deep, part of the anonymous tapestry of school sporting event fans, assembly cheers, and hallway jostling.

So that’s my story. The real one. The one that happened from five years old onward. I became something other than a symbol of my mother’s poor choices. I became a person. An individual. Right sized. Anonymous. And unlike the actor who played my life, whom, I believe at this time is in a rehabilitation center for opiate abuse, I gladly accepted the reversal of my metaphorical lens. I have done nothing worthy of attention or praise or pity. But I have done everything in my power to place myself in the advantageous position to be accepted by Harvard, to be sitting in class with the best young minds in the world, to receive the education that will allow me to go forward and introduce myself as Jacob Svendson-Hester, causing people to pause, scrunch their faces, this time smiling, recognizing my name as somebody worthy of esteem, this time earned.

Jacob Svendson-Hester

339 Western Ave,

St. Paul, MN 55105

Office of Undergraduate Admissions

Stanford University

Montag Hall

355 Galvez Street

Stanford, CA 94305

Common Application Essay Question Number 2: Describe a place or environment where you are perfectly content. What do you do or experience there, and why is it meaningful to you?

I live in a fly-over state. It’s miserably cold in the winter and hot and humid in the summer. It’s a five-hour drive from Canada. We’re a homogenized bunch of Norwegians, happy to accept our replicas of urban shopping in malls with skylights and fake cobblestone. This is St. Paul, Minnesota. This is a place where the tradition of a winter carnival excites the million-plus people scattered like buckshot around our decaying downtown. This is a city that’s more like a town, a place with its prized structure being constructed in ice every year, only to melt by the baseball season opener.

As a child, our holiday excitement wasn’t so much about the bounty of goods that Santa was sure to bring, but about our trip to the ice palace. The palace was different every year, sometimes with spires, sometimes with different levels, one year with a three-story ice slide wrapped around the back entrance, but the one thing you could count on, especially as a child, was the sheer enormity of it. It seemed miles long, football fields high, the cavernous rooms inside endless. The fact that it was sculpted from ice only added to its enchantment and mysticism. Everything was cold to the touch. Everything had a fluid quality—the technicolored spotlights, the ornately carved statues, the soft drips in warmer corners—as if the whole thing was submerged in water, floating, ready to return to its natural state.

My mother took my younger sister and me every year. We’d run around, roasted nuts spilling from paper cones, screaming, amazed at our echoing voices fading but never completely disappearing. Eventually, after thorough exploration, we’d find a quiet nook of the ice palace. We’d lie down on the cold floor. We’d stare up at the overarching wall. We’d frighten ourselves with the thought of it crashing down upon us. But then we’d just lie there. My sister and I never knew how long we were supposed to be still for, but we’d be good, understanding, on some level, that this was a moment of meditation for our mother. She’d hold us close. She’d tell us she loved us. She’d kiss our foreheads. We’d feel safe.

I’ve always believed that a place, regardless of its inherent qualities, exists primarily in relation to the person experiencing that particular place. Or rather, the significance of any given place is contingent upon one’s interaction within the setting, what he was experiencing during the time of exploration, what the place symbolized/dredged up within himself rather than the place itself (Ex: The Grand Canyon is unquestionably stunning, but when recalling the Grand Canyon, a person thinks about whom he saw it with, what events were going on in his life, ascribing personal significance rather than the significance of the place itself). Within this framework, the meaning of any given place can radically change depending upon the construct the person comes to the place armed with. And much like the entire aura of the ice palace, this relationship is fluid, as I discovered at eleven years old when I stayed up late one night to watch STATUTORY, the film about my parents’ life, which until then, I knew nothing about.

One of the central images of the film was the ice palace. It was routinely circled back to, emphasized as a point of purity, of love, of beginnings. An actress who looked vaguely similar to my mother laid on her back, staring up at the purple-and-orange-lit ice walls. She said, “I don’t you, either.” She looked happy. She probably felt safe.

Suddenly, the ice palace’s meaning completely shifted. It no longer was a place of maternal refuge, but something dirty, a secret aired to the world, an admission of regret and longing on my mother’s part. After the movie came out, the three of us, as a group, never stepped foot in the ice palace again.

But I did. I was sixteen, my younger sister twelve. I’d recently started driving, and volunteered to take Netta-Mae shopping for Christmas presents for our parents. We went to the mall, picked out a sweater for my father, a set of orange mixing bowls for my mother. Then I took her to the ice palace. She’d seen the movie as well, and although she was still young, still unable to fully grasp the place’s significance in our mother’s life, and in turn, her own, she intuited enough to start crying. I held her hand. We walked to a forgotten corner. We lay on our backs. We stared at the wall and its lights. We did as we’d done as children; we did as our mother had done in the film. We didn’t talk. We didn’t say we loved one another. But maybe she felt it, my love for her, because she put her head on my shoulder. I didn’t feel safe, but I wanted to.

Jacob Svendson-Hester

339 Western Ave,

St. Paul, MN 55105

Office of Undergraduate Admissions

Yale University

P.O. Box 208234

New Haven, CT 06520

Common Application Essay Question Number 3: Discuss an accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family.

We live in a vast nation, one pocked with every sort of topography, home to both Arctic and equator, one that begs to be explored, conquered; a nation streamlined for efficiency by an unimaginatively drawn interstate system. So like every other young man on the verge of adulthood (i.e. brushing up on the age when it’s legal to die for oil wars), some part of me itched for the “rite of passage” voyage of a road trip. Truckers and cornfields and Nebraska, pitching tents and seedy motels and illicit drugs done with no abandon. Or so I told my parents. A trip from Minnesota to California and back, ten days total. I told them I needed to exercise some freedom. To feel alive. They conferred and then agreed.

The reality was I had no such desire for a road trip, or rather, the extracurricular activities that the term “road trip” conjures. Nothing could’ve interested me less. My sole objective was to drive to Hollywood and meet Madison Johnson, writer and director du jour, multi-millionaire, gossip-magazine-cover regular, and ask him one question.

The drive to California was long and tedious. I don’t smoke and I don’t do drugs, so the flats of our nation’s breadbasket were a particularly harsh rung of Dante’s hell. My parents insisted upon me staying at decent hotels, nothing worse than a Holiday Inn Express, so that’s what I did. Twice, I ate at a connected Applebee’s. I usually fell asleep by nine o’clock.

Three days later, I arrived in Los Angeles. The city was what I expected—cars on top of cars, sprawl, palm trees, fat tourists and beautiful gas station attendants. I’d done my research (looked online) and knew where Madison Johnson lived. I drove up hills and switchbacks until I arrived at his address. His house wasn’t as big as I’d imagined, nor was it white with glass walls. It was an ugly blob of stucco, two stories tall, a Tuscan rip-off with a well-manicured lawn.

Of course I was nervous, but I told myself my mission was simple, concise, probably no more than a thirty second Q&A, and then I was free to go home. I got out of the car. I rang the doorbell. I adjusted myself. I waited. Nothing. I rang again. I wiped the palms of my hands against my jeans. Nothing.

I went back to my car and opened the windows and sat there. I half expected some security guard to come kick me out, but after a half-hour, when that didn’t happen, I relaxed, until I realized Madison Johnson could easily not be in California, but maybe on vacation or shooting his horrible sounding new action-thriller in South America. I turned on my car and let the AC lull me to sleep, which in fact happened, me not waking up until the sun had set and somebody was knocking against the window of my car.

Madison Johnson was both more and less beautiful in person than he appeared in the tabloids. His features were all overly sculpted, a perfection of geometrical proportions, his mouth the clear focal point. But his eyes, even in the half-dark of his driveway, were somewhat dull or maybe diluted, little stretches of wrinkles exploding in every direction around their sockets.

“Excuse me, man, what are you…you can’t be here.”

I climbed out of my car. This evidently made Madison Johnson a little nervous, as he took several steps backward and reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone.

“Private property, man, gonna have to ask you to bounce.”

I looked at him. I imagined myself as Elliot, the female lead in Madison Johnson’s first hit film, STATUTORY, as my mother. I imagined seeing him twelve years before working at Roseville Mall, him younger, more energetic, more charismatic. I imagined myself as having run home to Minnesota with a child in tow, a marriage shattered by a husband’s infidelity. I imagined thinking here was an alternate ending, a happy ending, his perfect teeth and oversized Adam’s apple the only evidence I needed.

“All right, man, calling the cops and stepping inside.”

“My name’s Jacob Svendson-Hester.”

Madison Johnson’s whole demeanor changed, or rather, it went through a clear and distinct metamorphosis, each stage apparent (shocked, confused, quizzical, pitying). He rubbed his mouth with his hand not holding the phone. “Jesus Christ, man. Wow. It’s been…do your parents know you’re out here?”

I nodded.

“You want to come in or something?”

I shook my head. It was here when Madison Johnson’s demeanor changed once more, this time becoming rigid, frightened, obviously running through the scenario of me having adjusted poorly, pinning my angst on his involvement in my life, a gun about to raise from my side.

“I have one question,” I said.

Madison Johnson nodded, still unsure how to take me.

“Did my mother plan on taking me as well?”

Madison Johnson furrowed his brow as if he wasn’t following, then nodded, smiled his famous smile. “Back then?”

I nodded.

“That was the plan the entire time. Both you and your sister.”

“It wasn’t just Netta?”

“No, man, both of you. Start a—”

“Family.”

“Yeah,” Madison Johnson said.

I nodded and turned around. Madison Johnson was saying things about coming inside and grabbing something to eat, about maybe calling my mom just so she knew I was okay, but I didn’t respond. I got in my car. I turned it on. The headlights lit him up. He looked small and alone standing in front of his ugly stucco house. I imagined myself as my mother driving away from a motel, back to her children and unfaithful husband, back to her family.

I’d originally believed that the real point to any road trip was to trick oneself into the notion of achieving freedom through exploration. But this is a falsity. The interstates are thruways from one area of commerce to another. Every city, every town, every exit with a gas station, is planned, is produced, is exactly the same as the hundreds of other thousands dotting our country. So freedom, as sought through the car, has to be more of a result of distance between those people we know than the places we are actually exploring. It is through this distance from the people in our lives that we are afforded the smallest glimpse of retrospection, as if our homes become a form of our pasts, and distance becomes a measurement of time. Our journeys become an exercise in nostalgia. Each mile marker is a memory. The sunrise in Nevada becomes our mother running around the house in her underwear, screaming about a snake, you and your sister laughing hysterically at your gag placed in the cupboard. The salt flats of Utah become a winter’s night when your mother knocks on your door, a cup of Russian Tea (Tang and cinnamon) in hand. The white wooden crosses staked alongside never-ending stretches of Nebraskan highway become bedtime stories—just one more, okay, honey, one more—the ends of your mother’s hair silky between your fingers.

As your home approaches, as the distance shortens, you’re brought closer to the present. A sense of immediacy constricts your chests. You’re left searching for the ease of your past. And it is here—contrary to what I originally believed—where the mythical freedom of the road trip rite of passage lays: you either keep driving or return home. You either accept the fleeting epiphanies you’ve been searching for as enough to tide you over, or you reject your present, your family. Madison Johnson told me my mother had planned on returning for me. Part of me believed him. I exited 94, turning through the sleepy streets of St. Paul, knowing somehow I was changed, had found an answer to a question I wasn’t even posing correctly, my realization all but disappearing as the combination of distance and retrospect became zero, my car idling in the driveway, my mom opening the door, the lights illuminating her slender frame, her smiling, relieved that I’d returned back to her.

Jacob Svendson-Hester

339 Western Ave,

St. Paul, MN 55105

Office of Undergraduate Admissions

Dartmouth College

6016 McNutt Hall

Hanover, NH 03755

Common Application Essay Question Number 4: Recount an incident or time when you experienced failure. How did it affect you, and what lessons did you learn?

At fourteen years old, I was denied emancipation from my parents. I sat in a small Ramsey County courthouse, really nothing more than a rectangular room with a table, no wooden throne housing a stoic judge. My parents sat in a neighboring room, this one even smaller. I was asked questions about sexual, physical, and verbal abuse. I answered no to each one. Then I was asked about my level of care, if I felt my base needs were met. Yes. I was asked about my parents’ level of interest in my life: did they attend my sporting events (I don’t play sports); did they help me with my schoolwork (if I ever needed their help, I’m sure they would); do your parents ever express their love for you (yes, all the time).

It was here the judge—a large man, African American, handsome with a large swath of pink gums that showed every time he spoke—asked, what exactly, was my reasoning for seeking emancipation.

I’d typed a response. It was two pages long, a self-pitying tale about growing up in the shadow of my mother’s scandalized affair. The typed response discussed postpartum depression’s lasting effects on a woman, citing a Swedish study from the early part of 2015, which demonstrated those who’d suffered one or more times with severe postpartum, were three hundred times more likely to experience future, non-pregnancy related swings of emotional attachment and detachment. The written statement also spoke to infidelity, how a child learns from his parents, how my parents each had indiscretions, my father’s evidently a lifelong vice. My statement concluded with a self-righteous paragraph about seeking individuality, how it was ingrained in us as Americans, cherished, prized above all else, us humans molded individually in the image of God. It talked about how I needed this independence. To, for once, become my own person. To be something other than a boy fossilized at four-years-old, always a victim, always a character to be pitied.

Sitting in the courtroom, which wasn’t really a courtroom, my hands sweaty on the printed sheets of paper, I cleared my throat. I was about to start reading when I set the paper down. I thought about the questions the judge had asked. Have either of your parents ever sexually abused you? Are you ever forced to go to sleep without having eaten dinner? Do they express their love toward you? I realized these were the children in need of emancipation. These were the unfortunate ones forced to grow up at fourteen, to become adults in the eyes of the law, to sign leases on apartments, to be allowed to gain driver’s licenses in order to get between school and work. I, on the other hand, was impatient. Entitled. Selfish in my need to claim to the world that I was not my parents’ mistakes. All these realizations hit me at once, and I felt juvenile, immature, and strangely, never more in need of my mother and father.

I apologized to the judge. I made something up about having been angry with them and sought out emancipation as a form of punishment. The judge sighed. He lectured me on wasting his time, the state’s time, and more importantly, devastating my parents who were doing their best to raise a loved boy.

My parents drove me home. We didn’t talk. I sat in the backseat, both of them in the front. At one point, I watched my father reach out and clasp my mother’s hand. Something about this gesture—probably the infrequency of physical contact between them—struck me as heartbreaking. I wanted them to start yelling. I wanted them to threaten me. I wanted to be grounded, loss of computer privileges for a month, a year, until I left for college, which, while we’re on the subject, they’d say, you are now going to have to pay for by yourself.

But they didn’t.

Instead, my father parked in front of Snuffy’s. It was a ’50s style malt shop, lots of pink and turquoise, the air heavy with grease. We filed out of the car. We sat in a booth. The Beach Boys played. I wasn’t hungry and said so. My mother ordered a chocolate malt, split three ways. I kept waiting for the yelling or the shaking of heads or admissions of hurt feelings. “Barbara Ann” came on the jukebox. Our malts arrived. My mother’s portion was the only one with a cherry, which she picked up and dropped in my plastic cup.

And here—as I’ve been instructed by my college advisors—is where I explicitly spell out what this experience of failure taught me: parents are parents. They’re people, broken in all the ways the world breaks them, scared, terrified, desperately going through life with the façade of not drowning in loneliness. They are us in twenty-five years. They are doing the best they possibly can, even if that best falls short of what we think we deserve. It can always be worse; they can always be worse. And sometimes, just sometimes, when we fail to achieve what we think is best for us, we’re afforded the briefest moments of selflessness as our egos reel inward in self-defense, and we’re given the gift of empathy. We can see these towering figures of our lives without the capitalized pronouns of Father and Mother, and just as people, as ourselves. And in these times, a simple statement—I’ve always loved these malts—says everything we can’t begin to express about forgiveness and gratitude.