Chemical Hearts

You are never more alive than when you're a teenager.

Your brain is flush with chemicals

that can turn your life into a story of epic proportions.

An A-minus feels like the Pulitzer,

a lonely Saturday night is an eternity of solitude,

and your lab partner becomes the great love of your life.

And yet, by the start of my senior year,

nothing interesting or remarkable

had ever happened to me.

- I was grateful for my life. -

I had my best friends-- all two of them...

Relax. You got this.

...parents who met

and fell in love when they were my age,

and my writing.

But a platform was pointless

unless I actually had something to say.

And I didn't,

because nothing worth writing about had ever happened to me.

Then, on the day I found out about the job,

something finally happened.

Hi, guys. Thanks for swinging by.

Come on in. You want us both?

Yes, both of you would be great.

Come on.

Grace just transferred here from East River,

where she spent two years writing for the Gazette.

You both possess remarkable depth for writers your age.

Which is why I think that you two will make

a truly dynamic editor-in-chief duo.

No. What?

Uh, one more time?

I don't want to be an editor.

But thank you.

Um...

Hey.

- Why'd you say no? - What?

Why'd you say no?

Why do you care? What?

Why do you care?

Uh... I don't.

It's just a good opportunity for a writer, I guess.

I just don't get why you would say no.

All right, well, don't let it keep you up at night.

Oh, shit.

What?

I just missed my bus.

Can't walk?

Um... no, I mean, I can.

It's just far.

Uh, that's why I take the bus.

My house is up there.

I have a car. I can give you a ride if you want.

Yeah?

Thanks.

Hey, so you like "Nehradah"?

Neruda.

Oh.

Oh. Um...

Yeah, well, I only read a stanza,

but I thought it was really beautiful.

You think so?

Yeah. Do you not?

No, I just think that's what people say

when they read a poem that they don't understand.

Hmm.

Finish it.

And let me know if you still feel the same way.

Huh. It's a cool place.

How come you walk to school if you have a car?

I don't like driving.

- Do you have a license? - Yeah.

It's a good song.

You live in a house like this, but you don't have a car?

- I guess my grades aren't good enough for a car, so... - Hmm.

Thanks a lot.

Uh...

Well, I'll see you tomorrow?

Okay.

Henry. What's up, Suds?

You, uh, just get back or something?

Mmm, no. Just leaving.

I'm late.

So, uh, who's the girl?

- What girl? The one that drove Henry home.

A girl drove you home?

She left her car here and walked away.

Run.

Yeah, when are you gonna move back out again?

Ignore her. She's declared war on love.

No, just on cheating assholes.

Will you see him today? Oh, my God.

He's my attending, Mom.

I'll see him several times today.

So, how was the first day back?

Good. Yeah. It was good.

Did you get it?

Uh...

- Yeah. Oh.

Yeah, you did.

Congratulations, sweetie.

Nice work.

Okay, got to go. Love you, guys.

So, who's the girl?

"I do not love you as if you were the salt-rose,

topaz or arrow of carnations that propagate fire.

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,

in secret, between the shadow and the soul."

"...the shadow and the soul."

"I love you like the plant that does not bloom,

but carries within itself, hidden,

the light of those flowers."

"...thanks to your love, lives darkly in my body..."

"...a certain solid fragrance that has risen from the earth.

I love you without knowing how or when or from where.

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride,

in which there is no you nor I,

so close that your hand upon my chest is mine.

So close that your hand upon my chest is mine.

So close that your eyes close as I dream."

- I have no idea what you said, but it worked. - What?

I think the newspaper's gonna be a really good thing for her.

We will have four issues-- the first in November, the last in June.

The first three are garden-variety periodicals:

hard-hitting news, sports, features, the like.

But the last one, that's where we get creative.

With the help of the group, Henry will choose a theme,

and you will have carte blanche to explore that theme

as you see fit.

That last issue will be this team's legacy,

an opportunity to share your accrued wisdom

with the students behind you.

I'm not just talking about the four years that you've spent

within the walls of this building.

I am talking bigger than that.

I am talking about the totality of your 17 years on this planet.

Last but not least, Grace here joins us

from our neighboring school, East River Preparatory,

and will lend Henry a helping hand with all things editorial.

Now, here's what Kyle and his team did for last year's final issue.

Um, I'm sorry. Uh, Kyle sucks.

- Very constructive, La.

Well, okay, um...

the final issue last year did kind of suck.

All right.

Um, hey, so I don't know what your thoughts...

So, I'm not writing.

If you have something to say, you can just say it yourself,

and I'll help with, like, editing and design and...

I handle design.

Well, everything other than design then.

But just not... just not writing.

And I'm assistant editor,

because apparently you worked very hard for this,

so it should be all yours.

Looks like Cora's into you again.

Yo, what is the deal with her?

She's making eyes at me, laughing at all my jokes,

and it's like this air pocket that's, like,

connecting us, and it's just filled with, like, marshmallows,

gummy bears, and freakin' bubble gum and sparklies,

and it's just like, if I eat it,

I'm gonna get another cavity like last year, and I can't.

Hmm, good metaphor.

Thank you. I appreciate it.

Hey, Grace. Hankard.

I, um... This is our bus!

...actually didn't get a chance to tell you,

I finished that poem.

And, um... yeah.

I still think it's beautiful,

but not in the, uh, normal kind of bullshit way.

Um, which, uh, which I think is also

kind of what the poem's about, 'cause, you know,

Neruda's love for her doesn't come from, like, uh...

sunshine and roses and cliché stuff.

You know, it comes from, um, her... flaws

and her imperfections, like, darker places.

Hankard! Uh, comes from...

Come on, you flirt!

...I guess who she has the potential to be

and not just who she is.

So, I don't know.

So, beautiful in that kind of way, you know.

You're gonna miss your bus again.

I see you.

What's he doing?

Um, you think I could get another ride?

Sure.