F*** the Prom Page #2

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- Or elevenses.

- You need to stop that.

What do you think

about this one?

I feel like it captures

the essence of high school.

Sports, winning,

Kane and I.

IDK.

Well, what about...

this one?

Shouldn't we use photos

of, like, the whole squad,

not just you and Kane?

Well, sure.

But we discussed having

an aspirational power couple

pic of Kane and I.

I just have to find

the best one.

Why don't we just do

a collage of your hair pics

and call it a day?

Marissa, are you riled?

No.

But if you could stop being

a selfish pigeon for one sec,

that would be great.

Did you just call me

a pidge?

So what if I did?

How dare you?

Come on. You know I would

never betray you like that.

Go with the football pic.

It's more iconic.

Like a Taylor Swift song.

Oh, you're so right.

Now onto the group shots.

I'm going to the ladies' room.

Be right back

Wow.

What?

Marissa, I'm so impressed.

No abbreviation.

Laughing out loud.

[cell phone buzzing]

[gasps]

She needs to take this.

Hey, M, you forgot your...

You pidge!

Maddy, it's not what

it looks like.

So it's not my boyfriend

and best friend making out,

but rather some optical

illusion of that?

Well, if you believe that,

then, yes.

Oh, my God.

You? I can't even...

This...

Yeah, Maddy.

You're right.

Oh, f*** it.

It's not what it

looks like.

Mm.

Believe it.

[sobbing softly]

Maddy, what's wrong?

Nothing.

Everything.

Kane didn't do something

without consent, did he?

- What?

- No.

I mean, yeah, he did.

[gasps] Oh, not my baby!

- Oh, gosh!

- Not my baby!

- Call the police.

- It's not like that.

[sighs] Thank God.

Confrontation remains

a challenge for me.

That and dairy.

I hate high school.

I just want it to be over.

Whoa. Really?

But...

Honey, honey. Listen.

I wanna tell you something.

Your father and I,

we can relate.

Our high school years,

they were pretty much

the equivalent of being

locked in

an emotional prison

of constant ridicule

and torture.

Your father got the living

crap kicked out of him

on a daily basis.

And I was called

a greasy headed troll.

Everything happens

for a good reason.

Even though it may feel

horribly humiliating

and punishing and cruel.

At... At the time.

- I don't like it.

- [text message chimes]

I never thought that perfect

popular kids in school

had anything to get

this upset about.

[sighs] Well...

Maybe she's not

that popular.

Oh, no, honey.

Your father didn't mean it.

Honey...

I...

We're bad parents.

Ditto to that.

[alternative rock music playing]

What's up!

Jesus!

Why can't you just

pop your head in

and ask me how my day was,

like any other human father?

So it was lame, huh?

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