Travis, 17, is obsessed with Jessie's older sister, Kimberly, but 13-year-old Jessie thinks he's wasting his time on her shallow sister. Here Jessie and Travis meet after the funeral of his brother, who was killed in Iraq.

(Warning: Using this scene without permission is illegal, as is reproducing it on a website or in print in any way.)

JESSIE: Are you doing okay, Travis?

TRAVIS: I'm fine.

JESSIE: That suit looks good on you.

TRAVIS: It's actually Nick's.

JESSIE: Oh—I'm sorry.

TRAVIS: Nah, it's all right, it doesn't fit him any more. (Short pause.) I mean, it didn't fit him.

(Pause.)

JESSIE: So what are you doing tomorrow night?

TRAVIS: I don't know. Nothing.

JESSIE: We're having a sleep-over. You wanna come?

TRAVIS: To a sleep-over?

JESSIE: Well I mean it's...it's a very sophisticated sleep-over. It's more like a party really.

TRAVIS: Is your sister gonna be there?

JESSIE: Why do you care?

TRAVIS: Just wondering.

JESSIE: I don't know. She's going out to a party tonight or something.

TRAVIS: Where?

JESSIE: Why do you like her?

TRAVIS: I don't like her that much.

JESSIE: You're like totally obsessed with her. And she doesn't even know you exist.

TRAVIS: She knows I exist.

JESSIE: She knows you exist in the way she knows cockroaches exist. As long as they stay hidden in the dark and don't come around where she can see them, she's fine with it. I mean I guess that's okay because you're lurking in the bushes and all—

TRAVIS: That was one time. I lost my Frisbee—

JESSIE: Yeah you're out there throwing your Frisbee to yourself and you "accidentally" toss it into our bushes—

TRAVIS: I was not doing that on purpose—

JESSIE: Whatever. I'm just saying it's kinda sad. Most people try to play catch with at least one other person. But you got your own thing going.

TRAVIS: I was practicing—

JESSIE: Listen, let me tell you something about Kimberly. She's never going to go out with you. You know what Kimberly thinks about all day? Her hair. And her clothes. Her entire brain is filled up with that; it's like a warehouse for the mall. Okay? And you know who's she gonna go out with? Some guy just like her past nine boyfriends who has a car and money and does some kind of sport where he hurts people. That's her life. And you don't wanna be part of it, trust me.

TRAVIS: You don't know her—

JESSIE: What?! I'm her fricking sister! Have you ever talked to her?

TRAVIS: Yes—

JESSIE: About more than the weather?

TRAVIS: I talk to her all the time—

JESSIE: About homework? Leaving those sad little messages on our answering machine? What do you think she does when she hears those? First she tries to remember who you are, and then she rolls her eyes and deletes them. Okay?

TRAVIS: Well she called that one time—

JESSIE: I called. I called you.

TRAVIS: What for?

JESSIE: To make you stop leaving those stupid messages! God. You know I used to think my sister was dumb, and now I'm realizing that everyone's dumb. Maybe you two should go out. Look—she's not going to be at my party, okay? She's got other superficial-wench-type-things to be doing.

TRAVIS: How old are you again?

JESSIE: Fourteen. Practically.

TRAVIS: Aren't there any other practically fourteen year old guys you could invite instead?

JESSIE: They're all idiots. Seriously. On medication. Part monkey. Retarded.

TRAVIS: Okay, but like...I'm seventeen, okay?

JESSIE: Yeah, but you're immature for your age.

TRAVIS: Sorry.

JESSIE: You had fun last time—

TRAVIS: No I didn't—you guys tormented me the whole time.

JESSIE: Yeah but that's fun.

TRAVIS: Listen, Jessie, you are a very nice girl—and there are probably lots of guys your age—

JESSIE: (Overlapping:) But they're retarded!

TRAVIS: Who would love to go out with you—

JESSIE: Wait a minute, wait a minute! I'm not asking you out!

TRAVIS: Okay, fine.

JESSIE: I can ask you over to a party without asking you out.

TRAVIS: Okay, fine, you're not asking me out.

JESSIE: If I was asking you out you'd be lucky because I'm a lot hotter than any girl you're going to get—

TRAVIS: I don't know about—

JESSIE: And I'm only getting hotter. I mean, a year or two—you're going to be creeping over in the bushes trying to look into my bedroom—

TRAVIS: I lost my Frisbee in the bush!

JESSIE: Keep saying that and it might become true.

TRAVIS: It is true.

JESSIE: You know what, Travis? I might be the only person who will ever say this: but I think you're pretty cool. So come over if you want, but...if you ever need someone to actually catch that Frisbee, let me know, all right? So...

(Travis' Father exits the house.)

JESSIE: I should go.

TRAVIS: What?

JESSIE: I'm sorry about your brother. (She gives him another quick hug:) Bye.

TRAVIS: Bye.