Intentions
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Hits: 96
Intentions
By
Nikola Stojkovic
EXT. HIGH SCHOOL - DAY
FADE IN: Screeches, laughter, the loud passage of cars. We
open on a narrow high school wedged onto a narrower corner.
Chaos reigns as cars weave around each other and pedestrians
clog the paths, giving the impression that this faded brick
building is the hub of a bustling hive. Cars deposit teens
rubbing the sleep from their faces. Masses of kids swarm
towards the main double doors. Crossing guards halt
perpetually late commuters as the future generations
traverse the streets as fast as their spry legs will carry
them.
Across the street sits a solitary vehicle, extraordinary in
the sense that it is simply sitting still in this urgent
slice of world. We track forward, inching closer towards it.
The cries, the hustle and bustle of the school fade. In the
driver’s side sits a MAN (30s). Disheveled and unkempt, his
eyes are nevertheless on fire. His gaze is fixed on the
teens walking to school, flitting from one to the next.
MAN’S POV: We pan from face to face, teenage girls
overwhelmingly the object of attention. We stop on a GIRL
(15) in a blue-gray jacket, red hair washing down it like
waves of fire.
The man’s breath begins to coat the driver’s side window.
The window starts to steam over. He rolls it down for a
better view.
A CROSSING GUARD notices the man peeking out the window. She
walks towards the car, picking up speed. The car roars to
life suddenly and barrels off down the street before she can
get near.
INT. RUN-DOWN APARTMENT LIVING ROOM - EVENING
A living space. Barely. A cramped living room houses a
deflated foldout couch, a tiny TV set sits on a cardboard
box. The Man sits in the middle of this cage, eating
Chinese. The cold light of the television illuminates him
though no sound comes out. Scenes from Half Nelson flash
on-screen. The floor is a veritable ocean of trash- soda
cans, beer bottles, crumpled up bits of foil, Chinese
carry-out cartons.
He pulls out his phone and opens up Facebook. He begins to
type: S. A. The search field flashes some suggestions.
Clearly he has typed this name many times before. He chooses
the first one: Sarah Holder. The Girl with red hair appears
on his screen, laughing. The picture is close-up, showing an
impressive row of white teeth. She looks very happy. He
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 2.
scrolls through her photos, lingering on her face, through
all its expressions. Serious, playful, joyous, laughing with
friends. He closes the app suddenly and dials a number. The
ring can be heard throughout the apartment. A click. He
takes a breath to speak, caught off guard, but a woman’s
voice comes over the machine. It’s muffled and
unintelligible, but not live. A loud beep.
MAN
Hi. I uh- this is...
The seconds tick away as he stands in silence. He ends the
call and stares down at the floor as if he has just now
noticed the filthy ecosystem he created. He goes to the
kitchen and returns with a garbage bag. He tosses the phone
aside and begins to clean.
EXT. PARK - DAY
The Man sits on a park bench, he stares at a shop down the
street. The Girl steps out with a friend. He knew she was
there. They walk together for a bit and part ways on the
corner bus stop. The Girl stays as her friend walks off. He
slowly begins to move towards her.
MAN
Excuse me...
No response. Her back is to him. He reaches out and touches
her shoulder. She turns suddenly and pulls her earphones
out.
GIRL
What are you doing!?
MAN
Sorry I- I’m sorry.
GIRL
What?
MAN
I was wondering-
GIRL
I don’t have any money or anything.
MAN
No, I don’t need money. I was just
wondering... if you know when the
next bus is supposed to arrive?
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 3.
GIRL
Oh uh, let me check.
She taps on her phone.
GIRL (CONT.)
Umm, looks like it’s about ten
minutes away.
MAN
Got it, thanks. I’d check, but my
phone isn’t compatible with the
app. That’s a cool phone, what is
it?
GIRL
This? Oh. It’s a Samsung Galaxy S6.
MAN
Never heard of it. How much did it
cost?
GIRL
I think it’s like 800 dollars, but
I’m on my mom and dad’s plan, so I
get a free upgrade every two years.
MAN
Oh. Cool so, your mom and dad let
you pick what you want when you
upgrade? Must be nice not to have
to pay full price. Must be an
expensive plan.
GIRL
Well, dad works at the phone
company, and my mom is a lawyer.
MAN
Lawyer huh, I knew a lawyer once. I
bet she works a lot. Long hours?
GIRL
Yeah kind of. Just me and dad some
days until like nine.
MAN
Yeah. That’s good though, getting
that time together. Spending time.
She eyes him strangely. He coughs.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 4.
MAN (CONT.)
Mine’s this old piece of junk. I’m
looking for a new one.
He fishes his phone out of his pocket and shows her.
MAN (CONT.)
Pretty crappy huh?
She examines it from a distance.
GIRL
Uh huh. That’s one of those old
LG’s.
MAN
Yeah you’re right.
He continues holding it out to her, so she takes it. He
moves closer.
MAN (CONT.)
You even have to slide it open and
hold the home key like this.
The phone unlocks and the screen flashes the Facebook logo.
GIRL
Huh. Not old enough to not work
with Facebook.
MAN
What?
GIRL
Your app has...
She stops. Facebook finally opens back to the last page it
was on. Sarah Holder. Hers.
MAN
(Quickly)
Oh yeah, but it never works right
most of the time. Here.
He snatches the phone back, but she has already seen. He
pockets the phone hastily and looks at her. She backs away a
few paces.
MAN
So um, listen, I’m Jack and-
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 5.
GIRL
Yeah. Nice to meet you. Umm, I have
to go.
MAN
Aren’t you waiting for the bus?
GIRL
Yeah. No. I forgot something back
at work. Nice talking to you.
MAN
Oh, where do you- umm one sec.
He tries to continue, but she is already briskly moving away
from him, down the street. He follows her. She picks up her
pace and rounds the corner. He breaks into a jog.
MAN
Hey wait!
He rounds the corner, but she is gone.
MAN
(To himself)
You god damn idiot.
He stands alone on the sidewalk.
INT. RUN-DOWN APARTMENT LIVING ROOM - EVENING
The Man sits on the foldout couch, head in his hands. His
phone beeps. It reads ’NEW VOICEMAIL - CINDY’.
He presses play and listens on speaker. A woman’s voice.
MESSAGE
I told you not to call. Ever. Calls
in the middle of the night, and now
you’re leaving messages? Did you
even hear yourself? You couldn’t
even put a sentence together. I
can’t do this, I’m under so much
pressure as it is. I can’t deal
with you, especially not when
you’re high out of your mind. I
can’t be around that, and neither
can she. Don’t call again or I’ll
call the police.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 6.
He sits motionless. In a sudden rage, he flings the phone
across the room. He fishes into his shirt and rips a
makeshift necklace from his neck and slaps it on couch. It’s
an NA chip. One month sober.
He charges over to the door and slams it shut behind him. A
few previously unseen pictures rattle from the force. We
zoom in on them slowly. In them: A younger, cleaner, happier
version of the man. A woman smiling with him. In her arms, a
one-year-old child with fiery red hair.
FADE OUT
THE END.