Brick: Hey. I'm off to the dance.
Mike: What are you supposed to be?
Brick: Well, I'm a bookmark.
Frankie: Brick! I thought we agreed you were going to be a gangster, remember? We talked about how cool you'd look in a fedora and how much Harper would like it.
Brick: Yeah, but then I decided what sixth grader doesn't love a bookmark? So, any last-minute advice before I head off to my first dance? Whoop!
Frankie: Just... just... Good luck.