the short story project


Miya Edwards

A Crush: A Short Screenplay




Crickets chirp. She is seen from outside a kitchen window. MC, a college freshman, is sitting atop the island counter preoccupied with thumbing through her phone. She pays no mind to the muffled music playing in the background.

MC possesses real, teenage blemishes, pimples, acne scaring, the whole shebang. Unlike the early twenty-year-old actors that play “teenagers”, with their studio hair, and acneless faces. But that is not the point.

Light is emitted onto her face and reflecting into her eyes from her phone, because teenager.

She’s rereading month old messages she had with a boy named JAY.

The conversations consisted of her shyly asking for assistance on irrelevant things, “So how do I do this?”, and his response was a bland, yet helpful.

Although, what really caught her eye was his kind apology at not responding to an earlier message. Oh how easily swooned she was at his kindness.

She goes to his instagram account.

He had the kind of good looks that the early twenty-year-old actors playing teenagers possessed. Perfection.

She is obviously eating this up from the fact she is going into his pictures from 2015.


(Eyes softened, her mouth forms a side smile)

She is sitting on the counter, still looking at her phone at first unbothered by the dirty dishes across from her that are piled up in both the sink and on top of the counter. She sighs finally acknowledging the mess.

MC hops off the kitchen counter, leaving her phone behind.

MUSIC: “Is It Any Wonder” by Durand Jones & The Indications gradually plays louder, but the lyrics are muffled.

She smirks at the music. Time to procrastinate.



She excitedly tip toes to the center of the living room from the kitchen. This is her dance floor.

She looks around, spotting a lonely tube pillow. That is her victim of the night, I mean, dance partner.

She positions her hands and holds the pillow as if preparing to dance. Eyes closing, she leans her head on the pillow. Her arms awkwardly wrapped around it.

JAY enters the room, distanced from MC, standing and watching a girl sway-dance with a pillow.

MUSIC swells the room with JAY’s presence.

JAY removes the pillow, correcting her arms and hands behind his neck, he places himself in.

MC is unalarmed by his entrance, eyes still closed, and swaying with JAY. 

JAY’s eyes are closed. They sway.








You definitely have a crush on me.

MC’s eyes open as if they were going to pop out of her eyes.

She places a hand on JAY’s chest and begins to look up at him.


MC stares at the stupid tube pillow she is holding in the air.



She throws the pillow onto a chair to take a walk of shame to the kitchen sink.

Starting the water, she scrubs ferociously at defenseless plates and silverware.

MC (V.O.)

I do not have a crush.




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