Original subtitles

[eerie music builds]

[indistinct whispers]

[person coughing]

[screams]

[splashing]

- How's that for you, Freddie? You fucking pussy!

[screams]

- Scream, ha.

This is what you get for costing us the Championship

my senior year.

A winning record, ruined by Freddie the Fucking Spaz!

[coughing]

What a fucking loser.

Whoa, calm down!

[screams]

Help!

Help me!

Help!

[indistinct shouting]

[rock music]

[indistinct chatter]

[chuckles]

- Wanna make yourself useful and help me study?

- Whoa, slow down buddy! - Sorry, sorry, Mr. Arda!

[computer beeps]

- Oh my God, does that mean you're done?

Please, please, God, tell me it means that you're done.

- Oh my God, chill.

- Shit, I almost went four years

without ever stepping foot in this place.

- You've never been to the computer lab?

- No. - Seriously?

- It's nothing, but a fucking library

without the whimsy.

- 'Cause books are so whimsical.

- Yes, they are.

- Well, I'm sorry to tarnish your perfect record,

but Dennis refuses to cover any more sporting events

and Mr. Arda needs me to proof these pics

from the last baseball game for the paper.

- Refuses?

There's one dead body and the pussy can't do his job.

Pathetic.

- Bianca, come on. - Javier, come on, please.

Or I'm going to slit my wrist, like--

- Dude, don't joke like that. - Okay, whatever.

Do you have what you need or not?

- Uh...

Yeah.

- Then what the fuck are we still doing here?

It's Friday. School day is over.

Okay, and as a senior, it is literally causing me like

physical pain to still be in this building

after the final bell.

- Oh, well, you should have said that earlier. - Yeah.

- Come on, sweetie, I don't want you to get hurt.

- Finally. You know, I was getting ready to leave your ass.

- Oh, you love taking me home.

- Okay, home, sure why not.

Picking you up in the morning? No. It's gotta stop.

- [scoffs] - Mm-mm.

- Alright, thank you.

- I mean you're welcome, but don't get used to it.

I love you to bits, but I refuse to miss out on

the 15 minutes of sleep it takes

to pick your ass up before school.

- I'd hate for you to miss out on

15 whole minutes of beauty sleep.

- Yeah, that's why you're my best friend.

You fucking get it.

- Besides, walking is good for heart health anyway.

- Plus, beats being a senior riding the bus.

Talk about pathetic.

[upbeat music]

- Hey, look at this twat.

Hey, buy a car, homo!

[chuckles]

- You can't even hit me? You're a fucking pitcher.

- Little fucker,

I could hit him if I wanted.

- Hey! Give that back!

- I'm sure you'd love for me to give it to you.

Ooh! Ooh, ooh.

- Alright.

[Javier groans]

- Seriously, what are we in middle school?

- J-- Come on, dude. - Hey!

[laughs] Oh! Not so handsy, huh?

What are you...

Oh.

Oops. - Dick.

- Those guys are such assholes.

- Fucking assholes. God, I wish.

- Wait, what do you wish?

- I don't know. - Mm-hm, yeah you wish,

that all those fucking assholes

would die horrifically, gruesome deaths

via telekinetic vengeance?

- You watch too many movies.

- Oh, maybe.

Hey, but at least in Carrie, all the high-school assholes

get what they deserve, right?

- Yeah, if only life were more like the movies.

- Hmm. Yeah, yeah. If only.

- [school bell ringing] - Oh, man. Coming.

- Come on, guys!

I know it's the last week of class,

and everyone's really excited,

but this is your final chance to discuss your year end papers.

Due Thursday.

Worth half your grade. Anybody?

Does anybody have anything?

Bueller? Bueller?

Yes, Ginny.

- Well, I feel like I'm in pretty good shape,

but I suppose I-- - Of course, you do.

- Excuse me?

- Oh, sorry, uh, I was just saying that

I'm really excited for you to share what's sure to be

a staggeringly brilliant literary analysis.

- Javier, please.

Ginny, go ahead?

- Well, I'm writing on how Melville's portrayal

of an isolated, exclusively male environment

acts as a study on the problematic nature

of traditional patriarchal societal structures.

- Basic.

- Okay, what was that?

- Oh, nothing just...

[grunts] Basic.

Oh, I have like a frog in my throat.

- No, he's calling you basic. - Basic?

So what's your paper on?

- I'm analyzing the homo-erotic undertones

in Melville's portrayal of inter-male relationships.

- Well, hey,

oh man, what's the old saying?

"Write what you know."

- In that case shouldn't your paper be on Starbuck?

[sniggers]

- What? - Now he's calling you basic.

- You know, Starbuck.

Like-- like the character.

From the book?

[indistinct whispers]

[school bell ringing]

- Thank God.

Alright, papers are due Thursday.

No extensions. I don't care what the reason is.

Thursday. Alright?

Uh, Javier, can you stick around a sec after class?

- Hey.

I'm-- I'm sorry, Mr. Arda, she just like,

she triggers me.

- Wouldn't let her get to you. Year's almost over.

I was actually hoping the photos from Saturday's game were ready.

- Oh, yeah, yeah, totally.

- Okay, great! Bring them by after class.

I'll be here. - Cool.

- Oh, and Javier? - Yeah?

- Anybody's ever bullying you or anything?

- Oh, I'm fine.

Really. I'm g-- I'm all good.

- Okay, if you say so. - Thank you.

- Okay, go off, go long, go long, go long!

- Guys!

- I am so sorry Mr. Arda.

- Put me out of my misery if I ever end up as

a high school English teacher.

- You got it, babe.

- Hey. - Hey.

- Sorry for the lame Starbucks joke back there.

- Oh, no, no apologies necessary.

I'll take all the support I can get.

- Your-- your paper,

it seems really like interesting.

- Really? - Yeah.

- Oh, thanks.

- Yeah, I mean, if you like wanted a second

pair of eyes for-- for feedback or whatever.

- Yeah.

- We could hang sometime.

- Yeah. - Cool.

- Cool, no, that sounds-- that sounds cool.

- Sweet. - Sweet.

- See you. - Yeah, I'll-- I'll see you.

We can meet at Starbucks.

- [laughs] Yeah.

- Whoa.

[thumping music]

You'll never guess what happened after class.

- You gave Mr. Arda a hand job.

- No, what?

- Mr. Arda gave you a hand job? - No, gross.

- Oh, a blowie? - Will you stop it?

- Oh, Javier, okay, no, no, no, okay,

what's up, what's up, what happened?

- I think William asked me out.

- Hey, no way.

William, William?

Like cute little trumpet William?

- Yes. - He of the ambiguous sexuality?

- Well, slightly less ambiguous now.

- Yeah. - But, yeah.

- Okay.

Okay, this is awesome.

I mean, you had your eye on the dude

since he transferred here like last semester.

- That is not true.

Okay, well, maybe just a little. - Yeah, a little, uh-huh.

Come on, this is awesome. This is your big chance.

Nothing more pathetic than an 18-year-old virgin.

[pop music]

- Right.

- God, Javier is such a tool.

You know, it's like he thinks

that just because he's this gay Mexican,

he has the monopoly on all valid perspectives

of theoretical criticism.

- About English again? - Yes,

it's about AP-fucking-English, Trevor.

It's like here I am, busting my ass to be valedictorian,

oh, and up comes Javier,

affirmative action-ing his way to all my scholarship money.

- Dude does have a 4.0.

- And your mom is loaded,

it's not like you need the scholarships.

- Not the fucking point, Trevor.

Hey, you know what? Give me your phone, Trev.

- Why?

- I've got an idea.

- Yeah, take again, take another hit.

Ooh, see, it's not working, 'cause you blow it like.

- Well, I don't know how to do it.

Just I don't know how to vape.

- Big cloud, big cloud.

That was so small, but-- [cell phone notification]

I fucking hit it.

What the fuck does he mean by peer review?

- I don't know. What do-- what do I respond?

- Easy, just be like, "Ooh yeah, baby,

I want to suck that D."

- Why do I ever think you're actually gonna help?

[Bianca chuckles]

Okay, what about uh,

"Sure, I have to meet Mr. Arda after school,

but right after that, library?"

- Mm-hmm, peer review.

I've never heard these gay words.

[text sent sound]

[text notification]

- How's that for homo-erotic undertones?

- Idiot.

- Wow, these are really great.

- Thanks.

- You've got a real eye, you know that?

Think you're gonna stick with photography at Northwestern?

- I think so.

Yeah, hopefully, I can get on staff at the Daily.

- That'd be awesome. I know you're gonna kill it.

So uh, you must be really glad to be getting out of here, huh?

- Uh, I guess, yeah. - Who we kidding?

High school can really suck sometimes,

especially if you-- you don't quite fit in.

You know, you really remind me of myself when I was your age.

- I do? - Yeah.

I mean, you've got great taste in music, for starters.

- What? You like Los Bunkers? - You kidding me?

Vida de Perros came out when I was in high school myself.

- Get out. - I swear.

- I fucking love Vida de Perros.

I-- oh, man, most English teachers don't know their

Chilean all-rock groups.

- I'd like to think I'm not like most English teachers.

I'm actually a cool English teacher.

I mean, I'm-- I'm cool, right?

- Yeah, you're, yeah.

- The kids think I'm cool? - The-- yeah.

I don't know, but I wouldn't trust what they think.

I think you're the coolest teacher I've had.

- I'm kidding with you.

[both chuckle]

- Alright. Oh, I'm gonna go.

- Yeah, no, absolutely. These were great.

Thank you so much for these.

- Yeah, of course. - Yeah.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

Absolutely, Javier.

- See you tomorrow, Mr. Arda.

[cellphone buzzes]

- Perfect.

- What's that?

- Oh, I swung by the coffee shop on my free period,

ordered a pumpkin spice latte.

I'll teach you to call me "basic", dickhead.

- You're not seriously gonna throw coffee

on the guy, are you?

- Lighten up, man. It's not even hot anymore.

- Shh, back up. Here he comes.

[cellphone buzzes]

Okay, go.

- Hey. - William?

- You wish, asshole.

- What the fuck?

You guys can't leave me alone for an hour?

- Who's basic now?

- Uh, still you, bitch.

- Watch it, cock breath.

- What exactly was the point of this mess?

- Oh, I don't know. Just expounding on your thesis.

If Melville was analyzing the homo-erotic undertones

of inter-male relationships,

your pathetic excuse for a life is-- is what?

Um, a study in the homo-erotic overtones

of the sadly solitary male singular?

Do you know how pathetic you look leaping at the

first chance you got to fool around with that band geek?

[chuckles]

- You think you're so fucking smart?

- Mm. And you think you're so fucking special.

- Do you have anything to add?

- Why would he? - Shut up, Javier.

- He didn't tell you?

I thought you guys were best friends.

- I said shut up, Javier.

- Well, uh, let me clue you in.

While you two, best bud, teammate, whatever the fucks,

were off having your no-homo bro time,

Brad here was in fact

analyzing some undertones himself, so to speak.

With me.

- Brad! - No fucking way.

- I said shut up!

- Hey, what? No, come here.

- Get off me!

- [grunts] - Oh my God!

Are you guys fucking serious?

Your pathetic excuse for a life.

- Buy a car, homo!

- Yeah, but at least in Carrie all the high school

assholes get what they deserve.

- Anybody's ever bullied you?

- If only life were more like the movies.

- Go, go, go, let's go, let's go, let's go.

[monitor beeping]

- Where am I?

- Oh shit. Javier, you're awake.

- Mr. Arda?

- Okay, don't try to-- don't try to move.

The nurse will be back here in a minute.

- What?

What? What happened?

- We were actually hoping that you'd be able

to tell us that.

Officer Stevens just left, but if--

- The police were here?

- Yeah, I-- I called the cops after I found you.

You were at-- at the bottom of the stairs unconscious.

I just left my class.

- Yeah, to meet--

- To meet who, Javier?

[indistinct background chatter]

Okay, no, no, no, just relax. - I'm fine.

[groans]

No, no, I'm not.

- Who did this to you, Javier?

- Nobody.

I-- I just fell.

I slipped.

Seriously, I just--

I fell down the stairs when I was rushing to leave.

Idiot, right?

- Hello, Mr. Campos.

Oh, hello.

- Oh, uh, well, give you guys some privacy.

- Javier, um,

hope to see you back in class tomorrow.

I'm just glad you're okay.

- Thanks, Mr. Arda.

- So, Javier, how are we feeling tonight?

- Oh, well, I don't know about you.

Personally, I feel-- I feel like shit.

You know?

Turns out, falling down the stairs is not a great time.

- Mm, yeah, well, you have to be careful.

Stairs can be tricky.

- Telling me.

- Now, you are a very lucky young man.

- Lucky?

What, are you kidding me?

- Well, you did fall down a flight of stairs

and you barely have a scratch on you, so yeah.

I'd say you're pretty lucky.

You know, if you'd have landed in even

a slightly different angle...

[dramatic music]

[photos snapping]

- What the fuck?

- I'm sorry.

- The hell was that?

- Did I hurt you?

- Uh, no, I'm fine.

Uh, sorry.

- Are-- are you sure?

- Yeah, I just--

I really want to get the fuck out of here.

- Okay, well, your father's filling out your paperwork,

so that he can take you home. - Okay.

- Overall, everything is looking fine.

You're just going to need to keep that neck brace on

for the next day or two.

- What? For real? - Yeah.

Look, in the meantime, how about I make you

a little bit more comfortable? Yeah?

Okay.

I'm not gonna bite.

- Okay.

That's pretty.

- This? Thanks.

It was a gift from my grandfather.

He passed away not too long ago, but I like to wear it,

'cause it keeps him close.

- Sorry for your loss.

Shit.

[whimsical music]

[yelps]

I'm losing it.

[ominous music]

[stove clicking]

- Hey, mijo. How you doing?

- I'm fine. Totally fine.

Why?

- I just wanted to make sure you weren't in too much pain.

- Oh. Yeah.

No, I'm good.

- If you're sure.

I should head to work.

And you should get going, too. You don't want to miss the bus.

- Fuck the bu--

Pa, come on. Not again.

- Sorry, mijo.

Doctor said walking to school, too much exertion.

Plus, look at the time.

- You can't send me on the bus. Pa, I-- I almost died.

- You said you were fine two seconds ago.

- Well, it's too late for me to call Bianca.

I mean, we barely make it to first period on time

when she knows she's picking me up in advance.

- Hence, bus. [kisses]

- Wait. - I'm sorry, Javi.

I'd love to drive you to school. I would.

But unlike high school students,

college professors need to be on time to their classes.

- No, it's not that. It's just, um...

We don't have like, um--

- Any day now, mijo.

- Do we have a history of mental illness in the family?

- Uh, no.

Not that I can think of.

But not unless you count Tía Lupe, she was always a little--

[whistles]

She used to claim she had psychic powers.

- Psychic powers?

- Yeah, but you know how it is with la gente?

Nobody talks about those kinds of things.

Mental health.

It's always [speaks Spanish].

Well, have a good day, mijo.

[pop music]

- Oh shit, what the fuck happened to you?

- Dude, something seriously fucked up is going on.

- Wait, I get it.

You got a little over excited last night just--

- I got pushed down the fucking stairs.

- What?

- That text wasn't from William.

- Hey.

Nice neck brace.

Ow.

- I'm gonna fucking kill them.

- No. - No?

What the fuck do you mean no? Aren't you furious?

- Of course, I am.

But I'm also just freaking the fuck out.

- Javier? Can we talk for a minute?

- Ow. What the fuck?

- What the fuck? What the fuck?

You already know what the fuck is, you asshole.

- Bianca. - You know what, come here.

Come here, so I can punch you in the fucking face again.

Don't walk away from me, you fucking cock jock bitch.

- Bianca, B,

just-- just give us a sec, okay?

No, I-- I'll be, just-- just a sec, okay?

- Alright. You know what, Brad?

I'ma be right over there. Give me an excuse, any reason.

Please, I'd love to come back over here

and have you eat some more of my rings, you bitch.

Got you, Javi.

- What do you want, Brad?

- I wanted to say I'm sorry.

- You're sorry? - Yeah.

I-- I tried to, I came to your room--

- I know. I saw you.

- I went to the bathroom, by the time I came back,

the nurse said you were gone.

- Yeah. Just wanted to go home.

- Listen, Javier.

I know things between us have been complicated.

- Brad-- - It's not that I don't,

I just-- I just can't.

Javier, I'm not like you.

- You're not like me?

What? Mexican?

Yeah. Uh, I think I knew.

Gay?

Brad, I know you better than anyone else at this school

and I'm pretty damn sure-- - I'm not brave like you.

I don't know if I'm... what I am.

I'm still figuring things out.

- Yeah. Yeah.

No, I get that.

- And about what happened yesterday.

Obviously, I'm so sorry-- - Are you fucking kidding me?

- I never meant to--

- Oh, to push me down a stairwell?

Oh, well, if he didn't mean it, guys.

Right?

Glad to hear it, man.

- I was gonna give this to you last night.

I am sorry, you know?

[whimsical music]

[indistinct whispers]

- Yo, what the fuck, Javier? What the fuck?

Javier, what the fuck?

- Shit. - Yo, what the fuck, Javier?

- Hey, nice neck brace, asshole.

- Eat my ass, Peter! - Ow, dick.

- Mental health day.

- [school bell ringing] - Mental health day.

Like, are you sure? Like, for sure? For sure?

- No, I don't-- I don't know.

I mean, like--

Listen, I know things that I-- I couldn't possibly know.

- Ooh. Like what?

- Well, you paint in the nude for one.

- Oh, yeah. I do.

What, I never told you that before?

- No!

- Hmm.

- I saw it.

- Okay, but like, it first happened

when the nurse touched you.

- Yeah, and then when I touched your painting.

- Ooh, which one?

- The one of us. - Oh, I like that one.

- Focus, Basquiat.

And then when I touched Brad's teddy bear.

- Okay, but like is there a rhyme or a reason

to these visions?

Like is this gonna-- - Stop that.

Oh, cut that shit out right now.

No, not that I can tell.

I mean--

I can't control them. That I know for sure.

- But they're triggered by touch.

Of either like a person or a thing.

- Yeah, they have been so far.

They're practically random otherwise.

- I'ma get my vision.

- I will fucking--

- You know, I just can't believe-- - I know, it's just crazy.

- That you didn't tell me about Brad.

- That's what you're hung up on?

- Yeah, yeah, like visions,

questioning your sanity, whatever.

Like blah, blah, blah.

You have been fucking Brad--

- That's not the point, B!

I mean, when I-- when I touched the-- I saw-- I th--

I think Brad had killed himself.

- Maybe.

- That's all you have to say?

- Okay, what do you want me to say? - I don't know.

This conversation isn't exactly going how I expected it to go.

- Hm. No? - No! B, I'm freaking out!

Like yesterday, I practically bashed my brains in

fallen down the fucking stairs.

And then I started having hallucinations

or visions or some shit,

and you're just like, you know, "whatevs."

Like, you're hung up on the fact

that Brad and I are sleeping together.

I'm telling you, he might kill himself.

- What? I don't not care that Brad might kill himself.

- Meanwhile, I'm terrified that I'm just gonna end up

like my crazy Tía Lupe.

- What happened to Tía Lupe?

- Nothing. She died of old age in like 1999,

but everyone thought she was nuts.

- Okay, well, first of all, you are not nuts.

Okay, this kind of shit happens like all the time.

- All the time? - Okay, maybe not all the time,

but it happens.

Haven't you ever seen The Dead Zone?

- No. - Okay, it's fine. Book's better.

What about The Witching Hour? - No.

- Charmed? - No.

- Rose Red? - No! B, focus!

- It's called "psychometry".

It's not an unheard of ability.

You touch people or things

and then have visions about the past or future

of that person or-- - Wait, psychometry? What?

How do you know-- How do you know about this?

[eerie music]

- Doesn't matter.

The point is,

the weirdest thing that's happening with all of this

is that all this time,

you've been schtupping Brad and didn't have the decency

to tell me, your best friend, you fucking dick.

I mean, I told you about when I lost my V-card

to Sean Freeman at summer camp.

And then when I made out with Katherine Ryder at that--

I don't know what--

- I know, I know. Okay.

Hey, you're-- I'm sorry, alright.

I've-- I've-- I've been tweaking.

- I get it.

I do.

Don't let that shit happen again, okay?

- I won't. I promise.

- What?

- Nothing.

So will you help me?

- Right, okay.

Uh, for starters, these uh-- these visions.

If we're gonna move forward under the assumption that

these visions are real,

which you know, I'm inclined to do,

we've got to figure out what exactly you're dealing with.

- So far, the Internet's only marginally helpful.

- Well, are the visions of the past or the future?

- Both.

The one with the nurse,

I mean, definitely seemed to be the past, but--

The one about Brad--

- Oh, I've got nothing. - What?!

- What, what?

Oh, did you-- did you want me to write you a prescription?

I'm not a doctor. Barely passed in AP Chem.

- You sure as hell act like an expert.

- I have a natural confidence.

Don't hate on my air of authority.

- I just feel like everything's spiraling out of control.

- Mm. Well, the idea that there was any control to begin with is

a fucking illusion.

There's only one thing in the universe

we have even the tiniest bit of control over.

- What's that?

- Ourselves.

Our choices.

- Comforting.

- I kind of think so.

It's okay. It means we've got a decision to make.

- What decision?

- Well, do you want to let your down-low boy-toy pull

a dingle-dangle in the locker room,

or are you gonna do something about it?

- Bianca. - What?

Like just yesterday you were wishing gruesome deaths

on those assholes, Brad included.

And that was before they pushed you down the stairs.

- Nice, nice, nice, nice, nice.

- Thanks, man. - It's good.

[Trevor clears throat] - Dude.

- Dude.

- You're still my best bro and all.

But is it cool if you like just hold off for a sec?

- What-- what do you mean?

- The shower.

- You're not serious.

- I'm sorry, dude, but now that you're a homo,

I can't just let you peep at our collective junk.

- You kidding me?

- Dude, I'm captain.

I have to watch out for the team.

- Fuck you, man!

- It doesn't matter, okay? We have to do something.

- Agreed. Time to make a move.

- Like? - Oh, I don't know,

Mr. Not-So-Valedictorian.

Maybe go talk Brad out of fucking killing himself.

You're such an idiot sometimes, you know that?

- That's way harsh, B. - [Bianca scoffs]

[sighs]

- All yours, man.

- Thanks for the consideration.

[water splashing]

- Hello?

[tense music]

[distant bang]

Trevor, is that you?

- Let's go. - Coming. Shit.

- Trevor?

[tense music builds]

[sighs]

[tense music]

- Trevor? Where's Brad?

- Why the fuck do you care?

- Listen, fuck-face, it's an emergency.

[groans]

- What are you doing? - It's locked.

- What do you mean it's locked?

- Did everyone leave? - When did this ever locked?

Brad! Open the door!

- Brad! - Brad!

[grunts]

- Brad!

- Brad, open the door! - Brad!

[banging on door]

- Brad!

You don't have to do this!

Come on, let's call the police.

- No.

[ominous music]

- I was too late.

- It's not your fault.

- I couldn't stop him.

- Javier.

- If only I'd talked to him.

If only I just really talked to him.

If only I hadn't outed him in front of Ginny and Trevor.

Fuck!

- I was giving him shit.

I shouldn't have, 'cause he was my friend.

But I was giving him shit for, you know, for being gay.

I didn't mean for him...

[sniffles]

He's my best friend.

- I gotta get out of here.

- Yeah, yeah, I'll drop you home.

- You know, um, as your teacher, I'm--

I'm expected to stand up here

and have all of the answers to everything.

But-- but you're old enough now to know

that there are certain things

for which there really aren't any answers.

Teen suicide.

Death.

The loss of life. It's always tragic.

And even more so when that--

that life was so certain to be full of--

And the thing that we all have to come to terms with here

is that Brad was struggling with something that--

that-- that we had no awareness of.

Yet I know that Brad and Phil,

who left us earlier this year as well,

would have wanted us to carry on.

Graduation Day is this Friday

and we have to remember to celebrate

the legacies of guys like Brad Warren, Phil Casey,

the impact they've left us with.

It will never be forgotten,

but their spirit lives on with us.

As Melville writes,

"It is only when caught in the swift, sudden turn of death,

that mortals realize the silent, subtle,

ever-present perils of life."

- What?

[announcement tone sounds]

- Attention, departing seniors.

After much consideration,

the faculty has decided to proceed as planned

with this Thursday night's Farewell Lock-In.

- Yes.

- Also, the counseling staff is available throughout the day

for all of your emotional needs.

Thank you.

That is all.

- Well, then.

- It's bullshit.

Isn't it fucked up?

I mean, Brad literally just killed himself.

Like at least when Phil killed himself,

we canceled last week's pep rally.

- I mean, it is fucked up.

It's also not your fault.

You know that, right?

- I do.

- Do you? I mean, it's okay to be sad.

Your boyfriend just died.

- Okay, well, he wasn't my boyfriend.

- I know, but saying you're a fuck buddy

just sounds really disrespectful.

- Yeah, it does. - Look, I'm just saying you can feel your feelings,

but you got other things to worry about right now.

- Batter's out! Strike three!

[indistinct speech]

- Did you hear me?

- [school bell rings] - [gasps] Shit.

- He's trying to apologize. - I said I was sorry.

- Right.

- Brad was my best friend.

- I-- I know. I know how close you guys were.

- You guys were like-- partners or whatever?

- Well, wait. Partners?

- Maybe if I had known. Or if I had more time.

I was such a dick! - And asshole, even.

- You're not helping. - Things that I said to him.

- Hey.

Whoa, whoa, hey!

Come on, man.

You were just trying to watch out for the team.

- What did you just say?

- What?

- About the team.

- I-- I don't-- I don't know.

- You couldn't. But you did.

You couldn't know, but you did.

- Let's go, Javier.

- You knew Brad was gonna do something!

That's why you were there after practice!

How did you know?

- Yo, weren't you just apologizing for being a dick?

- Come on, Trev.

[exhales]

- Another one?

- Yeah.

- What'd you see?

- Brad.

I think Trevor really loved him.

- I saw a porno like that once. - What the fuck, B?

- I'm sorry, I'm just really bad at this like

emotional sensitivity shit. - No shit.

[ominous music]

Fuck!

[grunts] Fuck.

- Hey.

Look, I know you're like really sad and angry right now,

but don't let your anger get the best of you, okay.

Here comes Billy Boy.

- Hey.

- Hey. - Hey.

Oh. Uh, girl, what was that?

Yeah, I'll walk with you. Over there.

Sorry, y'all, I gotta go.

I just-- I'll be over here walking with her.

Somewhere.

You know what? I'll just be over here.

[both chuckle]

- So, um, I-- I wanted to say sorry.

About Brad, I mean.

- You did? - Yeah.

My condolences.

- Thanks.

I mean, we weren't--

We're--

I don't know what we were.

It was complicated.

I didn't exactly know that our complications

were common knowledge, though.

- Right.

No, I-- I mean,

I didn't want to assume anything,

but you definitely seem sad.

Like particularly sad about it.

- Yeah. Uh...

I guess I am.

- I mean, people seem to have really liked him and all,

but, hell, you look around,

people seem more concerned with graduation

and the lock-in and the fact that two guys died this year.

- Yes! It's fucked up!

With Phil, the whole school shut down!

Like we had a four-day weekend.

- They canceled the pep rally and everything.

- Exactly! And Brad doesn't even get a half-day?

What the fuck?

It's like we used up all our grief points.

[William laughs]

What?

- Sorry.

I-- I didn't mean to laugh.

- No, it's-- it's cool.

- I know you're probably going through a lot.

- You have no idea.

- Huh?

- Nothing.

- I was just gonna say, I'd like to be there for you.

If like you needed to talk or whatever.

- Yeah?

- Yeah, I've been watching you.

- What?

- I mean, just that like, I've seen you around.

You seem like a really cool guy.

I'd really like to get to know you better.

- Oh, uh. - Idiot!

- I'm so sorry.

- Oh, of course.

Sorry. You must still be hurting.

- My neck, the neck brace. My neck.

- Yeah. - Yeah, yeah, I am.

I'm still hurting.

It's just, it's all tender up in here.

Right there.

- Anyway, I'm officially super late for physics.

I spent all night studying simple machines.

Talk soon? - Definitely.

What a weird fucking day.

[indistinct chatter]

- Wait. - What?

- I can't. - Can't what? Go to Trig?

- Yeah. - Seriously?

- I just have to get out of here.

I'm gonna cut the rest of the day.

- Are you sure? What about your attendance?

- We're seniors.

It's our last week of classes and my best friend just died.

I'm sure they'll understand.

- Where are you going?

- Come on, Ginny.

It's the farthest thing from my mind.

- Here.

Take my car.

See you after.

- Thanks, babe.

Yeah, I just need to not be here right now.

- I get it.

[cheerleader giggling]

- What about Ginny? - What about who?

- Oh.

[school bell ringing]

- How much class do you think

we've actually attended these past four years?

- Enough. - You think?

- You're practically valedictorian whether

Ginny Macher likes it or not and I am doing more than fine.

Thank you very much.

Who gives a fuck if we miss a few classes?

- Reduce, reuse, recycle, asshole.

[heart beats]

[screams]

- Another one?

What is it?

- Trevor.

[rock music]

- Murder? - What I said.

- Fuck, dude! - Yeah.

- I mean, if anyone's gonna die, though like--

- Bianca! - What? Trevor is such an asshole.

- Yeah.

- No, he made your life in high school a living hell.

- We can't just let him die. - Actually, we could.

- Bianca!

- I'm sorry, I'm driving, aren't I?

I'm just saying.

- Come on, come on. Where is this guy?

♪ You make me say no ♪

♪ You make me say no ♪

♪ You make me say no ♪

- Wait, I remember something.

- Well?

- I-- I've seen the place before.

- Details, bitch.

- In-- in-- in my vision,

Trevor, Brad, and Ginny were parked overlooking the sunset.

It's the same place. It's gotta be.

- [voicemail] You've reached Brad Warren,

but I can't answer the phone right now.

Uh, please leave a message

and I'll get back to you whenever I can.

[beep]

- Hey, man.

I know you'll never get this.

But I guess I just wanted to hear your voice.

And I wanted to tell you,

I'm sorry.

I'm really sorry.

And I can't believe you're gone.

And I'm really gonna miss you, Brad.

I'm really gonna miss you.

[ominous music]

[sighs]

[grunting]

- Where you going?

- If there's only one place in town

high up enough to see everything,

one place where all the dipshits go

after their pep rallies and shit.

- The parking structure by the old library!

Let's go! Floor it! Floor it!

[Trevor screams]

- Shit!

- Keep driving.

- Roger that.

[retching]

You okay, buddy?

That's gross.

- Someone's doing this, Bianca.

Someone's killing our friends.

- Do we really call those guys our friends?

- Bianca!

- Shit, sorry.

- I mean, we're talking about murder.

Like, we're actually really talking about murder.

- The news outlets are already reporting it as--

- A suicide? As if!

Who the hell just walks off the edge of a parking structure?

- People who want to commit suicide.

Hey, are you sure you saw what you think you did?

- Positive.

- Shit.

- What the hell are we gonna do?

- Okay, well, we can't go to the cops.

- Obviously.

- At least, not without any like hard evidence.

- Which would consist of what? - I have no fucking clue!

- Great.

- Hey, but we do have a shit ton of soft evidence.

- What the hell is soft evidence?

- Dude, okay, thanks to the universe or God

or the statistics of brain damage.

Fuck it, thanks to your crazy Tía Lupe,

you're having these visions, right?

We can use them to figure out who's fucking

playing Billy Loomis here.

We can-- we can backtrack from there,

gather any actual evidence we need,

and then, wham-o, stick the cops on this sick fucker!

Shit, that hurt, bro.

- So, who can get to him before it's too late?

- Him.

Or her.

[pop music]

♪ When the night comes ♪

[giggles]

- What about Ginny? - What about who?

- Dude!

- I'm busy, man. - Dude!

Ginny's out of her student council meeting.

Tish said they finished early.

- Shit. You gotta go.

- What? - Get out of here!

- Asshole.

- Thanks for the heads up.

♪ All these things unsaid ♪

♪ Stale letters I'll never send ♪

♪ But I hold 'em close ♪

[knocking]

- Hey, sweetheart.

How are you holding up?

- About as well as can be expected.

- Listen, I've been thinking about it

and I think you should stay home.

For the rest of the week. I can write you a note.

- I can't, Mom.

- Sure, you can.

- No, I can't. I have responsibilities.

- I'm sure your classmates will understand.

- It doesn't matter if they understand or not.

I'm class president. I'm valedictorian.

I'm in charge of the Senior Lock-In.

- Ginny, calm down.

- You calm down, Deborah.

- Excuse me?

- Sorry, Mom.

I'm sorry.

- Listen, I know this must be hard for you.

- I'd prefer not to talk about it.

- Death is-- - I said, I don't want to talk about it.

- Fine.

You can talk about it on your own time.

With Dr. Rosenberg.

- Add it to the list.

- What?

- Nothing.

- I wish you would reconsider.

- [sobs] I can't.

Nothing is turning out like it was supposed to.

You know, this is the end of our senior year.

It was supposed to be perfect.

- I know, baby.

[sighs]

[ominous music]

[pop music]

- [tone sounds] Happy Thursday, Springhurst Barons!

- Happy Thursday?

- Over the past few days,

our school has faced a series of tragic suicides.

The impact of which no one feels more acutely than I do.

- Oh, acutely?

Putting that SAT vocab to practice, I hear.

- But more than anything, I know that Trevor Strode,

and Brad Warren would want us to strive on.

To celebrate our achievements.

So, as is tradition here at Springhurst High,

the night before graduation is our Senior Lock-In!

And as your class president and valedictorian,

it is my honor to officially invite

all departing seniors to join me this evening

to spend the night in these hallowed halls

and bid farewell to what is soon-to-be our alma mater.

[school bell rings]

- Wow. - Seriously,

can you say heartless?

- She's not entirely heartless. - Her boyfriend was just murdered

and she's out here wishing everybody a happy Thursday.

- I feel like it'd be weirder if she was a weep-fest.

This is exactly how I'd expect Miss Perfection to handle

anything more emotionally trying than a statistics exam.

- I guess, totally in character, but like too much in character.

Like she's trying way too hard to be morbid.

Business as usual, carrying on.

Like she's covering something up.

Her murderous sociopathy, for instance.

- Ginny's a lot of things, but do you really think that--

[indistinct chatter]

Do you really think she's a murderer?

- I just-- I really don't see why not.

Everybody knows Trevor was a dog.

Dude had half the cheerleading team on a tight rotation

and who helped him keep it under wraps for so long? Hmm?

Oh yes, that would be his closeted bestie.

- Brad, I know, I just--

I don't know, I just really don't think--

- Don't think what?

- I don't-- I don't think that, um--

- That we're gonna go to the Lock-In.

You know, out of respect for the dead,

the dead who we've respected so-- so much in this life.

- No?

It's a bummer. It's gonna be fun.

- You're going? - Yeah.

I was actually hoping you were, too.

- Yeah. - Yeah?

- Yeah. - Okay, that's enough of that.

- Well, I mean that I guess there's no reason

that we can't respect the dead and go to the Senior Lock-In.

- Multitasking. - Yeah.

- Sure, I like it. - Cool.

I mean, I guess I'll see you tonight then.

- Tonight?

Tonight. - You guys are so gross.

- At least, I have options.

Oh, wait, William, you dropped your--

[ominous music]

[Ginny screams]

[school bell ringing]

- All departing seniors, please remember to bring

your permission slip to the gymnasium - Shit.

to report to this year's Lock-In.

[indistinct chatter]

[ring tone girl screaming]

- Yo, Javi, are you okay?

I had somehow convinced Nurse Hernandez

not to contact your dad.

- Where are you? - In the gym,

herding all the seniors in here for like pizza and shit.

- It's William.

- What is?

- The killer. I saw it.

Bianca. I thought he liked me.

- No, I'm sorry, Javi.

- He's after Ginny and she's next.

- Are you sure?

- Yes, yes, I saw it when I picked up

his copy of Moby Dick.

Okay, we have to find him before he gets to her.

- I'm on it.

Meet me in the band room.

- The band room? - The band room.

- Okay, I'm on my way. And Bianca.

Just be careful.

[indistinct chatter]

[eerie music]

- Where the fuck is he?

- Are you sure Javier will actually be into

a trumpet serenade?

- Uh, yeah, no, he loves it.

He's like-- always like, you know,

if music be the fruit of love, play on.

- Yeah? A regular Orsino, huh?

- Yeah.

Yeah, sure.

- I really like him, Bianca.

- Oh?

- And when I see the way people at this school treat him,

it just makes me so angry.

- Angry, you say?

- Yes, very angry.

- Cool, yeah, cool.

How angry are we talking?

You know, on a scale of 1 to 10?

- Let's just say I've let my anger

get the better of me before.

Like in my old school.

- Interesting.

- Maybe that's why I was so eager

to have a fresh start here.

To meet new people who didn't know that side of me.

- Mm-hmm.

- But to see the way people like Trevor

and Ginny treat a great guy like Javier,

just reminds me that new school or not,

people are all the same.

Shitty.

But maybe a trumpet serenade will take his mind off that.

[grunts]

[sobbing]

- Ginny? Is that you?

- Who's that?

- It's me.

- Javier?

- A murderous trumpet-playing Casanova.

People are so weird.

- Hey, listen, I know this is gonna sound really weird,

but you're in danger and we have to get out of here,

like right now.

- What the fuck are you talking about?

- I'll explain it all later, but right now we have to go.

For real.

- You're nuts.

- Bianca?

What the fuck?

Shit, my head.

- Sorry not sorry, Billy Loomis.

That's what happens when you murder people.

- Please, you just have to trust me.

- Okay, why should I?

- Murder people? What the fuck are you--

Is this an extension cord?

- Yeah, like where the fuck am I

supposed to find rope in this place?

- Listen, just let me go. We can talk this out.

- Oh, as if, Norman Bates.

Once Javier gets here,

we'll figure out how to prove that you're the one behind

this mysterious rash of tragic teenage suicides

and then we'll let you go, alright?

Into the custody of the police, murder boy.

- Because I'm trying to help you.

- Okay, that's exactly what doesn't make any sense.

- What?

- What reason have I ever given you to want to help me?

- I don't know what you're talking about.

- I'm talking about Brad and Trevor.

I'm talking about Ginny.

- Ginny's dead?

- Not yet. She--

um, I mean just-- Shut up!

We are on to you.

Javier has your copy of Moby Dick.

- What does that have to do with this?

- I said shut up!

- No, what does my copy of Moby Dick

have to do with anything?

I lost it halfway through the semester.

- What?

- Yeah, I finished reading it early, then lost it.

I had to borrow a copy to finish my final paper.

- Borrow?

From who?

- Ginny, we can discuss the magnitude

of your cuntiness later.

Right now we have to go.

- Okay, get the fuck off me!

[distant bang]

- He's here.

- Who is?

- We need to go. Right now.

- What the fuck is going on?

- Brad and Trevor didn't kill themselves.

- You're fucking insane!

- No, they were murdered.

And if you don't listen to me, you're gonna be next.

- Are you threatening me?

[man laughs]

- For someone who's supposedly so smart,

you really are a dumb bitch.

- No.

- Okay, Mr. Arda, what's going on?

- A balancing of the scales.

- What? - What are you talking about?

- No, no, no, no, no.

Mr. Arda, you're supposed to be William.

- Excuse me? - I-- I saw the book.

I saw it. You-- It can't be you.

You were the only teacher who-- You're so kind to me.

- [shushes] Javier, it's okay.

You're confused. I get it.

Just try to relax. Breathe.

I'm gonna take care of everything.

- Mr. Arda, I don't understand.

- Of course, you don't.

Understanding, compassion,

human decency, all outside of your depth.

You fucking bitch.

- Okay, sir, that's the second time

you've called me a "bitch" in the past two minutes.

I really don't appreciate being spoken to like this.

- Oh, you really don't appreciate

being spoken to like this?

That's a little rich coming from you.

Do you think that I-- Do you think that Javier appreciates

all of the abuse that you and your little hormone-filled

boy-toys have heaped on him this entire time?

- Mr. Arda, stop this. I'm fine.

- You are not fine!

You aren't!

I see it. I-- I-- I see everything.

I see the bullying, the abuse, the harassment.

And it is not acceptable!

- What's going on?

- There's a murderer!

- What? - I'm sorry.

We thought it was you.

- Are you serious?

- We have to go find Javier. Come on!

- Bianca!

- You'll be disciplined for your behavior.

I know what you're going through, Javi.

'Cause I went through it, too.

It got so bad, I didn't think I had any other choice.

- Mr. Arda, please. - So I tried to end it myself,

but I couldn't even do that right.

[Mr. Arda laughs]

I was such a fuck-up.

But what have I always tried to teach you, Javi?

In the moments of your greatest failure,

you'll find your greatest discovery.

And in that moment, I'd realize something important.

It's not us that should be driven to the depths of despair

by their cruelty.

So if I want to end it, I have to end them.

- No. No. Look at me.

Look at me.

You have to calm down.

[laughs] Why does everybody keep on

telling me to calm down?

You, Phil. - Phil Casey?

- All these student athletes think they're God's gift.

They really think they're gonna make it to the majors?

They have no idea what it's like out there in the real world.

Entitled little shits.

What they really are is animals.

- You killed Phil.

- And Trevor.

And Brad.

- No.

- Yes. God, am I glad.

Finally, you little fuckheads are getting what you deserve.

It doesn't matter who you are. There's no privilege here.

Or bureaucracy to hide behind.

Valedictorian, star athlete, rich parent.

It doesn't matter who the fuck you are.

If you behave like an animal, you get put down like an animal.

- Mr. Arda, you don't have to do this.

- Yes, Javier. I do.

My entire high school career, fuckheads like Ginny, and Brad,

and Trevor made my life a living hell.

And all the years since, nothing has changed.

I see the same thing over, and over, and over again.

But now, we don't have to put up with their shit, Javi.

Now we can stand up for ourselves.

- Hey, Moby Dick!

[grunting]

- Javier!

- [grunts] - [Ginny screams]

- [grunts] Fucking theater geeks.

[grunts]

[Bianca grunts]

[grunting]

[groans]

- Damn it!

Hey! Motherfucker! God!

- Oh, oh shit, God, fuck.

Fuck.

William, William.

Look, hey, hey, okay?

Sorry, I think you need to apply pressure, okay.

[winces]

- Javier. - I know, I know.

- And Ginny. - I know.

- You have to help them.

- Here. Here.

Here, call for help, okay?

[ringback tone]

Okay, I'll be right back.

Fuck, I shouldn't have said that.

Fuck, fuck.

God, if I die, trying to save Ginny-fucking-Macher.

I'll kill her.

- 911, what's your emergency?

[screams]

[tense music]

- Help, help! Help!

Oh my God! Help!

Oh my God

Let go of me!

[indistinct shouting]

Oh my God!

- You think you're so much better than anyone else

with your money and your grades.

You think you can treat everyone else like trash.

Well, not anymore, Ginny.

- Mr. Arda.

Please.

If you've ever cared about me--

- Javier!

- Stop this now.

- Javier, I'm doing this for you.

- Javier! Javi, Javier!

- Will you shut up!

[screams]

I mean, they-- they put you in the hospital, Javier.

And they gotta pay for that.

And once they finally get what they deserve and they're gone,

that'll clear the way for you to be valedictorian.

- I don't want-- I don't want that.

- This is our chance, Javier.

Please, help me. Come on, man.

I've helped so many kids. Just somebody help me once?

- Do you hear yourself?

- It's all for you, Javier. All of it.

- No. No!

You're not doing this for me.

You're doing this for yourself.

Maybe you and I weren't so different once.

But these aren't the same people who hurt you.

- Come on.

Yeah.

[grunts]

They're all the same.

- William, are you still there?

[grunting]

- Ginny, now!

- I'll show you a bitch, asshole!

- Hold on. Help is on the way.

- Better safe than sorry.

- Wait!

Don't kill him. Just--

Just wait.

- Oh, today's your lucky day, asshole.

[police siren wailing]

[indistinct radio chatter]

[indistinct chatter]

- Hey, can-- can you hold on just one sec, please?

Thank you.

Hi.

Um, listen, I just--

I just want to say that I'm sorry.

I thought you were a murderer.

Yeah.

What's the matter?

[chuckles]

- Check it out.

Officially graduation.

Congrats.

We made it.

- You too.

- Who would-a thunk?

- I'm gonna need so much therapy.

- Yeah.

That's high school for you.

- I was talking about the whole murder thing.

He was just like me, you know?

- Yeah.

- And all of this he did it, because of me.

- No, no, Javier, he was a fucking bat-shit--

- What if I end up like him, Bianca?

Just-- just totally twisted and-- and crazy.

- That's not gonna happen. - How do you know?

- Because, stupid, you've got me.

- Yeah, I do.

[chuckles]

- What?

- Man, fuck this place.

[laughing]

- Thank God, that's over. [laughing]

♪ All my problems for today ♪

♪ Don't you follow me tomorrow ♪

♪ I've got to leave it all ♪

For real, dude, oh my God.

♪ Misery ♪

♪ Everywhere there's misery ♪

♪ Oh, and-- ♪

♪ Oh, it creeps up on me ♪

♪ Tries to take over ♪

♪ Well, the sun is getting low ♪

♪ So my gremlin's acting up ♪

♪ I got to learn it All the way ♪

♪ And all the misery ♪

♪ Oh, it's all the misery ♪

♪ Oh, and it's plain to see ♪

♪ That's it's picked up On the history ♪

♪ Oh, insanity ♪

♪ To the bottomless insanity ♪

♪ Oh, it creeps up on me ♪

♪ Tries to take over ♪

♪ Today I feel like shit ♪

♪ But tomorrow I'll be better ♪

♪ I'll be all grown-up Wait and see ♪

♪ Misery ♪

♪ [indistinct lyrics]

♪ Oh, and it's plain to see ♪

♪ That's it's picked up On the history ♪

♪ Oh, insanity ♪

[indistinct lyrics]

♪ For it creeps up on me and tries to take over ♪

♪ Oh, misery ♪

♪ Oh, it's all the misery ♪

♪ Oh, and it's plain to see ♪

♪ That's it's picked up On the history ♪

♪ Oh, insanity ♪

♪ I can't rely on This insanity ♪

♪ Oh, it creeps up on me ♪

♪ Tries to take over ♪

[lyrics in Spanish]