DIRE STRAITS (Ver. 1 - shorter)
EXT. STRAITS OF MACKINAW - NAUTICAL MORNING TWILIGHT
CLOSE ON profiles of two teenagers who lean together. Her head rests on his shoulder as they sit, looking toward impending sunrise.
EMMA sighs as SAM shuts his eyes. They listen to the susurrus waves as seagulls squawk overhead and early fishing boats thrum in the distance.
CLOSE ON their hands, joined on his denim-covered thigh. Their hands push back and forth at each other as they talk.
You started this. You're the only person who has ever gotten under my skin.
No, you started this. You've known me since first grade. You know which of my buttons to press.
You didn't have to goad me, though.
And you didn't have to call me a chicken.
CLOSE ON their profiles as they continue to watch the changing light as they talk.
You know I can't back down from a dare. Especially in front of people. Like the entire cafeteria. What was up with that?
You could've stopped right after you swallowed the goldfish in Biology. But no, you had to call me a chicken when I didn't want to eat one, too.
Serves you right. You're lucky that goldfish only gave you diarrhea.
I don't think it was the fish. I think it was nerves. (beat) Are we done now? Did I prove I wasn't chicken? Will you promise not to call me chicken if I don't dare you again?
I promise, too.
CLOSE ON the couple as SAM leans into her a bit. SAM kisses EMMA's forehead. EMMA looks up and kisses him back on his lips. They stare at each other again for a moment before looking toward the sun as it peeks over the horizon.
Race you back to the beach. Last one to hit the sand has to start thumbing for the ride home.
(looking shocked at first, then intent)
Oh hell no, I'm not thumbing, you are!
VERTICAL PAN UP AND OUT SLOWLY as the couple scrambles from where their seat on the edge of the Mackinaw Bridge deck, more than 150 feet above the water between lakes Huron and Michigan, two miles from the straits' southern shore.
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By Femme Malheureuse