Cold Open | Applyfic

Chapter One

Jay Gatsby had been shot, and Scottie was about to shoot himself if he had to write one more word.

In the 20s, Gatsby had everything going for him. He was rich, straight, white, male, and had decent looks. He had multiple girls-and boys, if Scottie was right about Nick-in love with him. And he still chose the girl that didn't try to contact him for five years. For such an intelligent individual, he was pretty fucking stupid.

"Are you alright?" asked Espy.

"Of course. I'm almost done, actually."

The word count of 300 flashed in his eyes. He wrung his hands together. It was just 700 more words. Once he got into it, that would come easy enough. He just had to figure out how to write 700 more words about how a green light meant hope and how Gatsby wasn't a total dumbass. Easy.

"Can I hear what you have?"

"Well, I mean, it's kind of a work in progress, you know? I haven't exactly edited it yet so-"

Espy stifled a laugh. "I don't have to. But remember, this is due tomorrow."

Scottie turned around in the chair. "I am aware." Espy raised her eyebrows, then went back to reading. What it was this week, Scottie had no clue. But she was already halfway done. He could've sworn yesterday she had barely made a dent. He stood up from the desk and joined her on her bed. "Maybe if the assignment was more interesting then it would be done faster."

"You just gotta milk it."

"You gotta what?"

"Milk it. Use big words, long analogies, pretend to know what you're doing. That's what these guys did." She pointed to her book, and Scottie got a peak at the title. Hamlet. Turned out she wasn't an insanely speedy reader after all.

"I'll finish it tomorrow."

Despite knowing that this was an absolute lie, Espy stayed silent. Scottie adjusted to sitting on his stomach, holding his cheeks in his hands. His sleeves from his sweater scratched against the slight hair on his chin. "So, have you changed your mind yet?"

Espy rolled her eyes and smiled, setting down her book and marking her page. "Scottie-"

"Think about it, Espy." He grabbed her hand. "I know you're not really into comedy or horror movies, but it's not the movie that people are going for." He moved closer to her. "They rented an entire theater! And we don't have to pay for snacks or anything."

"Oh, so you're going for the snacks?"

"Of course, that's the whole point." Espy's lips curled into a wide smile.

"I will think about it. Okay?"

"That's all I expected," replied Scottie. He leaned in and kissed Espy on her upturned lips. She pulled away.

"Just so you know, Scream the sequel is not the magical date idea that you think it is."

Scottie sighed exasperatedly. "You need to experience things other than George Orwell sometimes, Espy."

"Esperanza!" A voice yelled from behind Espy's closed door. Scottie shot up from the bed, and Espy grabbed her book and flipped to where she marked it. "Los padres de tu amigo están aquí!"

Espy glanced at Scottie with a confused expression. "Pensé que se quedaba a cenar," she responded.

"Los padres de Prescott lo necesitan ahora!"

Espy sighed. Scottie furrowed his brows. "What did she say?" he whispered.

"Your parents are here."

"Oh, I'm sorry," apologized Scottie. He grabbed his shoes from beside the bed and began to lace them on. "I thought I was staying for dinner."