The DUFF

1

For generations of high-schoolers,

you could only be a jock, a geek,

a princess, a bully, or a basket case.

But times have changed.

Jocks play video games.

Princesses are on antidepressants.

And geeks basically run the country.

I thought we were living

in a brave new world,

a place without labels.

But every so often, there's that

one moment in high school

that changes your perspective

on everything.

Showtime.

And for me, it happened senior year,

about a month before homecoming.

I was cruising the halls

with my two best friends.

Jess Harris.

I would bang her so hard,

we'd both need helmets.

Yeah, that's not me.

Casey Cordero.

- I would play "Call of Duty" with her

- Yeah.

- All night.

- Wait, what?

And bang her hard too,

to the point of needing helmets.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

- That too, yeah.

Nope, not me, either.

Shaw's over. Just Bianca.

That's me.

Martin Van Buren. Nickelback.

Antidisestablishmentarianism.

Jess has the hottest ass.

Casey has the hottest rack.

Bianca, she has the hottest friends.

- Yeah.

- Yeah.

Homecoming tickets, homecoming.

Hey, get your homecoming tickets now.

- Half price now or double at the door.

- We're gonna be late.

Hey, Jess. Hey, Casey.

Homecoming tickets?

- Oh, we bought ours online.

- All right, cool. See you there.

- Thanks.

- And I will not be attending, so...

Oh, my God, you do this

before every dance.

Yeah, but I don't feel like going.

There's a Vincent Price marathon on,

so I gotta watch that.

Who's that?

Shit, there's Seor Gomez.

I'm failing Spanish.

Okay.

Mini Stalin, dead ahead.

Meet Madison Morgan.

As she would tell you herself,

she's the hottest girl in school.

Even the gay guys wanna date her.

I would totally bang the shit

out of her.

But I wouldn't like it.

Love.

Sorry.

So, yeah, she was a bitch.

Were we fake friends with her? Kind of.

Girls, party at my place.

I'm sure you've heard of it.

Can you make sure you get

an insert shot of them opening it?

Yep, on it.

Oh, yeah, I'm doing a video about

the party for my YouTube channel.

Wow, wait, you're having a party

on a Wednesday?

- On a school night?

- Yeah, I can do that.

Damn, dude. All right.

Well, yeah, we're in.

Bianca, you have to

have an actual invite to get in,

and I only have a certain amount.

But if anything changes,

I'll let you know.

- Problem solved.

- Oh, hey.

Look at that.

Wonderful.

Can't wait.

Should I bring anything or...?

We'll... Okay.

Anupam and Lena, where are we

on the school lunch article?

We thought we would make it about

how the prices of ice cream

have gone up 15 cents

in the cafeteria and...

That's a bit vanilla. Pardon the pun.

But you're missing the meat

of the story.

Our school serves pizza

five days a week,

paid by taxpayer money

that is used to cover us

against pizza-induced diabetes.

Now that's a school lunch story.

Copy that, circle it, write it.

Nailed it. I'm so proud of me.

We came up with that idea

together, but mostly me.

Okay, next up,

final assignment, all right?

It's a doozy, but it's a real feather in

the cap for any reporter worth their salt

that wants to comment on

the social life of this school.

Anyone?

Not all at once.

No one?

No one at all? Any takers?

Bianca.

Just the gal I was hoping for.

Hello. Okay.

I want you to step out

of your comfort zone

and bring your special brand

of journalistic gravitas

to an article about homecoming.

Specifically, what homecoming

means to me.

I mean, not to me. I never went

to a dance when I was a kid.

- Kind of a nerd.

- Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Arthur,

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