Ms. Morello: There, there, Chris. It's perfectly natural for you to freak out after a bomb scare. It's called Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome. But being from the ghetto, it never occurred to me that your stress would ever end.

Ms. Morello: Here. Just for the record, Chris, you can't afford to be late again. The clocks in this school are set to Eastern Standard Time, not CP time.
Chris: What difference does it make? We took all our tests. We only got, like, one more week to go.
Ms. Morello: Counting today, you have been late 29 times this year, and 30 is the limit. If you're late again, you will not be promoted. You will have to repeat the tenth grade.
Chris: Say what?
Ms. Morello: Say word.
Adult Chris: [v.o.] Oh, there's a word I want to say, all right.

Rochelle: Well, I don't understand why you can't make an exception for him. I mean, didn't he pass all his tests, including his finals?
Ms. Morello: Yes, but this isn't about education. This is about punctuality. Look, could I appeal to a higher authority and have Chris promoted liked we did when the Vice Superintendent's daughter got pregnant and missed the entire tenth grade? Yes! But you don't really want your son being coddled and helped through life and all of its obstacles like some rich little White girl, do you?
Adult Chris: [v.o.] Say yes, say yes!
Rochelle: No. No, I guess you're right.
Ms. Morello: I am. You may not realize this now, Chris, but making you repeat the tenth grade is the biggest favor I'm ever going to do for you.

Ms. Morello: Chris. Can I speak to you for a moment?
Chris: Mmm. Yeah.
Ms. Morello: So, Chris, I hear our newest hall monitor is making a big impression.
Chris: Thanks.
Ms. Morello: Chris, we're friends, right?
Chris: Yeah.
Adult Chris: [v.o.] No.

Greg: I don't mean to be disrespectful, but what are you doing here?
Ms. Morello: Well, Greg-
Thalmus: Hey, baby. I got the popcorn. You want Junior Mints or Goobers?
Ms. Morello: I got both.
Chris: You're on a date? Chris, we all grieve in our own way.
Thalmus: Grieve? Who's grieving?
Greg: Did you go to the funeral, too?
Thalmus: What funeral?
Chris: So you lied about your sister dying?
Ms. Morello: Yes.
Thalmus: Your sister died?
Ms. Morello: No.
Chris: How could you do that?
Ms. Morello: That's neither here nor there.

Chris: Sorry. Come on, Greg, let's go.
Ms. Morello: Chris, wait. Stay.
Greg: Are you serious?
Ms. Morello: Yes. But don't you ever let me find out you've done anything like this again, you understand?
Chris: Yes, ma'am.
Ms. Morello: Could you not mention that you saw me here?
Chris: Yes, ma'am.
Thalmus: Nice meeting you.
Ms. Morello: Enjoy the movie.

Adult Chris: [v.o.] After I changed my story, everyone else changed theirs.
Ms. Morello: Oh, Chris! Oh! My brilliant little Alex Haley.
Chris: So, did you like the story?
Ms. Morello: Like it? I love it! The Scissor Killer?! I wouldn't step foot in Bed-Stuy for all the money in the world.
Adult Chris: [v.o.] That's how most people feel.
Lisa: It was so frightening! So real! The truth leapt off the page.
Adult Chris: [v.o.] The truth jumped off a cliff.
Chris: So, are you going to publish it?
Lisa: Are you kidding? After this story, no one at this school will ever forget you, Chris.
Ms. Morello: But that's just the beginning. This Scissor Killer has got to be stopped, so I sent your story to a friend of mine at the Brooklyn Crier, and they published it, too! Look! [exhales loudly] Because of you, they're going to bring this man to justice.
Adult Chris: [v.o.] Because of me, they're gonna waste their time.

Adult Chris: [v.o.] After my mother set me straight, I had to set the story straight.
Ms. Morello: You made it up?
Chris: Well, I'm sorry. I was just giving the people what they want.
Lisa: Oh, this is just great. All the real killers running around Bed-Stuy, and you had to make one up. That's just lazy. What else did you make up? Is your real name Chris? Are you even Black? Who knows?
Ms. Morello: This is so disappointing. You're the first Black writer in the school's history.
Adult Chris: [v.o.] I was the first Black everything in the school's history.
Ms. Morello: You reach reporter status, and you make up your story? What will your people think of you?

Adult Chris: [v.o.] As it turned out, Albert could not only read. He could also write.
[A group of kids looks at a wall which now has "Morello is a B...." spray-painted on it]
Joey Caruso: Way to go, Basquiat.
Chris: I didn't do this.
Joey Caruso: Sure you didn't.
Ms. Morello: Who would possess the vulgar cultural background and raw, angry, street talent to do something like this?
Adult Chris: [v.o.] I'll give you one guess, and it starts with Albert.

Ms. Morello: I'm deeply disappointed in you, Chris. I thought we had a connection, and yet, you go and spray paint those awful words.
Chris: Wait. Didn't Albert talk to you?
Ms. Morello: Yes. Your friend came in here, and as hard as it was for him to turn you in, he did the right thing by letting me know you were the one who defaced school property.
Chris: But it wasn't me. I didn't do it.
Ms. Morello: Don't try to deny it, mister. I know in your culture, people think that word is a compliment, but in this instance, it's not.
Chris: Ms. Morello, Albert's the one who spray painted that wall.
Ms. Morello: I know you were embarrassed for your friend because he didn't study, but you're not helping him by calling me names. Sticks and stones, Chris.
Adult Chris: [v.o.] I know where I'd like to stick a stone.
Ms. Morello: I'm giving you detention.
Chris: That's not fair. I told you I didn't do it.
Ms. Morello: And furthermore, you're going to clean that wall.