He decided today was going to be the day. It was the sight of her that sparked him into action and lifted his courage into high gear. He had never seen anyone lean against a locker like that - so stylish, so sensual, so ethereal. Yep, today was going to be it alright. One for the history books. He felt his heart beat faster and relished the andrenalin rush coming to him. It empowered him, enabling him to shrug off the shyness and ill-confidence he felt when talking to girls higher up on the social hierachy. He didn't quite know what to say, but he knew he should never copy anthing that came from Hollywood. What the hell were those writers thinking? Have they forgotten the anxiety and awkwardness of high school? Honesty, he finally decided, was the best bet. That's what people say don't they? He adjusted his shirt, casually strolled up to her, called her name, and watched her turn her head in his direction. "Hi Sharon, you stupid bitch. Aren't you a cruel one? If you don't want to go out with me, fine. But you never had to snigger about it with your friends when I asked you last week. You never had to announce my rejection to the whole school. You think you're too pretty for me, huh? You and your mini-skirts? Well fuck you." He turned away from the astonished face and walked backed the way he came, a sudden thought entering his mind: Let's see Marlon Brando do something like that.