01x01 - Pilot

[bunniefuu]

Hey, gods. It's Devi Vishwakumar,

your favorite Hindu girl
in the San Fernando Valley.

What's a-poppin'?

It's the first day of school,
and I thought we should have a check in.

I think we can all agree
that last year sucked

for a number of reasons.

So I thought of a few ways
you guys can make it up to me.

One: I'd like to be invited to a party
with alcohol and hard dr*gs.

I'm not gonna do them.
I'd just like the opportunity to say:

"No cocaine for me, thanks. I'm good."

Two: I'd love for my arm hair to thin out.

I know it's an Indian thing,

but my forearms look like
the frigging floor of a barber shop.

And lastly, most importantly,

I'd really, really like a boyfriend,

but not some nerd from one of AP classes.

Like a guy from a sports team.

He can be dumb. I don't care.

I just want him to be a stone-cold hottie,
who could rock me all night long.

Thanks for considering. I love you guys.

As she said,
this is Devi Vishwakumar.

She's a 15-year-old Indian-American girl
from Sherman Oaks, California,

and it's her first day of sophomore year.

And I am legendary tennis player,
John McEnroe.

Point to Mr. McEnroe.

Wow, I look great there.

Now, you may be asking yourself:

why is sports icon John McEnroe
narrating this tale?

-Dammit!
-It'll make sense later, I promise.

Her story starts
when her parents, Nalini and Mohan,

moved to the United States
in September 2001.

Not a super chill time
to be a brown person in America.

Yes!

Devi worshipped her father.

And while he and her mother stayed true
to their Indian roots...

No, no, no, thank you.
We are vegetarians.

...Devi was all-American.

But shortly after this barbecue,

things got complicated
for this little family.

At Devi's spring orchestra concert,

Mohan had a heart att*ck.

Mohan!

Somebody call 9-1-1!

Somebody call an ambulance.
An ambulance, please!

Mohan!

He d*ed.

Devi was devastated,

but things were about to get even worse.

A week later...

Devi's legs stopped working.

There was no medical reason why,
but they were definitely not working.

And now, she was in a wheelchair.

Just because Devi is confined
to a wheelchair,

does not make her any less human.

As far as we know, it's not contagious.

But she wouldn't have to
go through it alone.

Her two best friends
took the situation in stride.

Well, maybe not in stride,
but definitely in character.

One day, you will walk again.

If not, I will build you legs.

This is Fabiola Torres,
captain of the high school robotics team.

And this is Eleanor Wong,
president of the drama club.

This is worse than
if it were happening to me.

In protest, I shan't use my legs either.

Aside from her friends,

there was only one other person
who could raise her spirits...

and also her heart rate.

Paxton Hall-Yoshida,
the hottest guy at Sherman Oaks High.

I know it's a little weird for me
to be saying that,

but come on, look at this kid's jawline.

And as it turned out,

three months
after Devi's paralysis set in,

Paxton's chiseled face
actually worked a miracle.

Come on, dude.
Give me a turn.

Just like that, she could walk again.

So today, Devi returns to high school.

Can she shed her old identity

as the paralyzed Indian girl,

whose dad dropped dead
at a school function?

It's not likely.

Those things are pretty unforgettable,

but with working legs
comes a whole host of new possibilities.

So go get 'em, Devi!

Devi, are you still praying?
Our gods have other stuff to do, you know?

I was about to ask for good grades.

Now, grab your textbooks. We need to go.

Devi,

that textbook has been blessed.
If it touches the ground,

I have to take it back to the priest.

I don't have the time
to go to Rancho Cucamonga today.

It's fine. I caught it.

Oh, Devi!

I made you a lunch.

That's Devi's cousin, Kamala.

She moved in after Mohan's passing
to complete her PhD at CalTech.

Devi is not a fan.

I don't bring lunch on Tuesdays.
It's square pizza day.

Devi, don't be rude
to your beautiful cousin.

I'm not that beautiful.

Sorry. Are you a model?

Oh, thank you so much.

No. I'm a biologist.

I could never be a model.
I'm too curvaceous.

I know this sounds crazy,
but would you want to get dinner?

Hey, buddy, keep it moving.

Take your broke-ass bike
and get out of here.

This can't keep happening.

Our recycling bins
can't take much more of this.

How long is Kamala gonna stay with us?

As long as it takes for her
to finish her studies. Why?

She's just so... Indian.

Like, the other day,

she said she was gonna open the TV
instead of turn on the TV.

Devi, she's family.
She's bettering her life.

You could actually learn a bit from her.

I bet she doesn't let
her textbooks fall on the floor.

Oh, my God.
It never touched the ground!

As Devi walked into school
for the first time,

it was impossible not to notice
everybody staring at her.

But it didn't matter,
because she had her squad.

Have you seen the nurse's new haircut?
I love it.

No, I have to check it out.

Guys, sophomore year is gonna be our year.
I can feel it.

Sophomore actually means
"wise fool" in Greek,

so it can really go either way.

Oh, my God. I just realized

that this is our last first day
of sophomore year we'll ever have.

-I'm gonna cry.
-Right.

This reminds me of a problem
I want to talk to you guys about.

We're not cool.

Uh, would a not cool person wear...
one dangly earring?

Was that a choice,
or did you lose your earring on the bus?

I didn't ride the bus. I rollerbladed.

Who says we're not cool?

We're the only students who get to eat
in the teachers' lounge.

Yeah, we can't do that anymore.

We need to eat with kids our own age.

Guys, don't you want
a better high-school experience?

I mean, last year was
a freshmen sh*t-fest.

Are you saying that
'cause of your mobility issue?

What? No. Nobody even remembers that.

'Sup, FDR?

Well, nobody will remember that
once we're cool.

Which brings me to my plan.

This year, we're rebranding.

We are glamorous women of color,
who deserve a sexy high school life.

Fabiola, you are naturally snatched,

but you dress like a helpful Honda guy.

What are you talking about?

The janitor said I reminded him
of his nephew.

Favorite nephew.

Eleanor, could you chill out
on your spontaneous show tune singing?

Well, if you refuse to change
your personalities,

I guess we'll just move onto step two,
and get boyfriends.

Boyfriends?

I have chosen attainable,
yet status-enhancing people

for each of us to date.

Fabiola, you get Alex Gomez.

- Ugh!
- Suck it, Gomez.

I can't go out with Alex Gomez.
He's like a foot shorter than me.

Yeah, but he has a hot face.

You'll be like Zayn and Gigi.

-Who are they?
-Zayn and Gigi.

Are you out of your g*dd*mn mind?
Forget it.

Eleanor, you are gonna date Boris Kozlov.

The Russian exchange student?

He's eating an onion.

Yeah. He's international and sexy.

You could write a play about it.

Hmm, intriguing.

Who are you going for?

Jonah Sharpe.

Oh, my God, Tiffany.
Where did you get that top? I'm gagged.

Uh... Jonah Sharpe is gay.

But technically, he's not out yet,
and he's pretty popular,

so I'll be his beard
until I can springboard off of him

to a straight boyfriend.

You know you sound
like a sociopath, right?

Sociopaths get sh*t done, Fab.

Now, go sit next to your marks,
and lock 'em down.

Hi.

Hi.

Hey, Jonah. You smell great today.

Thank you. It's Forever by Mariah Carey.

Oh.

This disgusted reaction
belongs to Ben Gross, Devi's nemesis.

Because Devi and her friends
were an ethnically diverse group

of academically-focused, um...

I can't think of a better word
for "dorks."

The rest of the school called them
the gently r*cist nickname, the UN.

It was widely known
to have been created by Ben.

Do you know when you can't use your legs
for no medical reason,

it's called psychosomatic?

Which, my dad says, means fake.

Ben Gross's father, Howard,
whom he idolized,

was a top entertainment attorney
in Beverly Hills.

This allowed Ben Gross
to dine out for years

on the fact that Blake Griffin
was at his Bar Mitzvah.

And he and Devi had been vying
for the number one spot in the class

every year since the first grade.

You might call them
the John McEnroe and Jimmy Connors

of Sherman Oaks High School.

Not to make this about me.

Good morning, you young, brilliant minds.

Welcome to Facing History...

and Ourselves.

This is not gonna be
your typical history class.

We are going to be unpacking
some very difficult subjects...

like, uh... sl*very,

and the Holocaust.

Think of this as a ride on a tour bus

through some of the darkest moments
of our history.

Just then, the high school gods
chose to smile down on Devi.

Thanks to Paxton's extreme apathy
toward school,

he was forced to retake this class,
which he failed as a sophomore.

Maybe this year was looking up after all.

Damn.

"Damn" is right, Devi.
This is some really heavy stuff.

Genocide is not 100.

And systemic racism is not litty.

As we travel through all of humanity's
most horrific atrocities,

I want you to feel shooketh.

Thank you.

Trust.

But even though she told her friends
that Jonah was the one she was after,

Paxton Hall-Yoshida
just seemed so much more,

I don't know... hot?

Devi, Ben.
Can you come back in here, please?

I am honored to have powerful voices
in my class,

but in the past,
the competition between the two of you

has not been... useful
to the learning environment of others.

Devi has,
what you might consider, a short fuse,

and sometimes, she's a straight up psycho,

which I find pretty admirable.

So do you think you can
set aside your rivalry

for the good of the class?

Well, of course, Mister Shapiro.

A great idea, as always.

I agree. In fact, I liked your idea
even more than he did.

Okay.

Man, David, watching you flirt with Jonah

was just about the saddest thing
I've ever seen,

and I saw my dad run over our cat.

You know he's gay, right?

Your cat? No, I didn't.

That's so cool.

Word of advice: just give up.

Plenty of amazing people
have d*ed as virgins.

You and the rest of the UN
are in good company.

You know?
You shouldn't call us the UN.

-It's r*cist, and offensive, and--
-What?

Oh, like the United Nations?

No. We call you the UN,
because you are unfuckable nerds.

Can you believe he said that?

What do you think, Doctor Ryan?
Do you agree with him?

This is Doctor Jamie Ryan,
a child psychologist

from Toluca Lake, California.

She's Devi's therapist,

and this morning,
the woman Devi is shouting at.

Wait, you're asking me to tell you
if I think you're bangable?

-Yeah.
-Devi, I can't do that.

Ethically, legally, and most importantly,
it's creepy.

So you agree with Ben Gross
and the whole school

and think I'm a disgusting troll?

Hey, I am not going to tell you
I think you're sexy.

I will tell you that kid sucks,
and you should ignore him.

Doctor Ryan, you know how much trouble
I have taking the high road.

I do. Why don't you sit down?

So, you're back up on your feet.

That's gotta feel good.

Yeah. That part was good.

It was so nice not to be in a wheelchair,

but people were still staring at me.

They all think I was faking
being paralyzed.

Why would I fake that?

Because it's such a cool look

to have your cousin
help you onto the toilet?

Listen, I think I've got something
that could really help you.

Paxil, Lexapro, Xanax, Zoloft?
I'll try anything.

Whoa! Knock it off, wannabe pill popper.

It's a grief journal.

Sometimes, the pain we feel
is too hard to say out loud.

This way,
you don't actually have to say it.

And if this doesn't work,
you can always prescribe me some Klonopin.

Girl, bye.

Devi, how was your first day at school?

I'll be honest. It was mixed.

I got all the classes I wanted.

Prime locker location.
Ben Gross is still a d*ck.

Are we allowed to say "d*ck" now?

No one can say "d*ck" in this house.

Why do let that Ben Gross
rile you up so much? He's like 5'2".

Damn, Mom! That was savage. Up top.

Ah, okay. I do not like high-fiving.
It's violent.

Can we please not do that again?

On a more civilized note,

I received some
very exciting information today.

Kamala, your parents
have found you a match...

for marriage.

They did?

Yes! His name is Prashant.
He's an engineer.

Isn't that fantastic?

Kamala was expected
to have an arranged marriage

after she finished her studies abroad,

but she felt less than enthusiastic
about this idea.

Oh, that's so wonderful.

A husband from India?
Someone I've never met before.

Perfect stranger.
How exciting.

I know!

Finally, some good news for this family.

Yeah. That's frigging great.

Kamala does nothing
and gets a full husband in the mail.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to trick a gay guy
into going to Johnny Rockets with me.

You know what? I'm just too jealous
to eat with you right now.

Devi...

Devi.

Devi, come here.

-Dad?
-Come, come. Sit down.

I want to show you something.

This is John McEnroe.

He is my favorite player of all time.

Hey, look at that! It's me.

I told you it would all make sense.

He doesn't let anyone push him around.

Look at him,
giving it back to that umpire.

He's a firecracker... just like you.

Kanna, what is it?

Dad, am I ugly?

What nonsense.
I'm looking at you right now.

You're the most beautiful girl
in the world.

No. Kamala is beautiful,

and a boy at school
said that I was an un--

He said something mean to me.

This boy is clearly an idiot,
like this umpire.

Do you think John McEnroe
would let that umpire tell him

that he's not beautiful?

No. He would stand up for himself.

So I should b*at up Ben Gross?

What? No, no, no.

You fight back
with your spirit, little one.

You stand up for yourself, just like him.

Answer my question!
The question, jerk!

Thanks, Dad. I'll try.

Wait. What are you doing here?

This is my living room.

No, I mean, you d*ed.

Oh, that? I'm better now.

So the next morning,
Devi took her dad's advice

and decided to fight back with her spirit,
AKA she would be serving a damn look.

Ben Gross better get ready
to eat his words.

Woah, Devi, you look
like an Indian Kardashian.

Thanks, Fab, but I thought
we were dressing hot today.

This is my boys' medium polo
instead of my usual large.

-The janitor said--
-No. Just, no.

- Stop.
- Well, I know I did a good job.

Get a load of sexy flapper girl.

My grandmother d*ed
in this dress.

Okay. Let's just stick to the plan.

What's our goal for today?

- To make conversation.
- Right.

We're talking to the boys.

I'm gonna ask Jonah to come over and watch
unreleased Ariana Grande footage.

Before you know it,
we'll all be boinking at prom. Okay.

Boyfriend, here I co--

Hey, Jonah.

Ew, you're bleeding.

You're getting knee blood
on the chair. It's unsanitary.

You could have AIDS.

I thought no one would bang me.
How could I have AIDS?

Easy. Blood transfusion.

Or sharing needles.

You wish you were cool enough
for intravenous dr*gs.

Oh. dr*gs are, like, cool now?
I didn't realize

you were a hillbilly tweaker.
I guess you're skinny enough.

Uh, I'm not skinny. I'm jacked.

Hmph, for now, until you morph
into your big fat dad.

Shut up. My dad's hot.

You've no idea what he's been through.
He has thyroid issues.

Enough! We talked about this yesterday.

How can we mend the conflict of our past
when the conflict of our present rages on?

-Boo.
-That doesn't mean anything.

Those responses were very hurtful.

Go to the principal's office.

Look who it is.
Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Idiot.

You will both report here after school
to do some unpaid labor in the office.

Like an internship?

No. Like a punishment.

You're in trouble!

I can't.

I'm supposed to go cheer on
my girlfriend's field hockey practice.

You know, I support women.

Is that why, Mister Feminist?

Or is it to watch a bunch
of teenage boobs bounce around?

Field hockey is a beautiful sport.

Busted. You're a perv.

And what are you laughing at,
Erin Brockovich?

Is that a skirt or a headband?

You know, get your acts together,

or I will personally call all the Ivies
and tell them not to admit you.

You're dismissed.

Your stupid heels are slowing us down.
Take them off.

Yeah, I'm sure you'd like to see
my bare feet, sicko.

Foot fetish much?

Oh, my God! Oliver Martinez?

Stop molesting my friend!

He's not molesting me.
He's caressing me.

He's my boyfriend.

Wait. You have a boyfriend?

We had to keep it a secret.

I mean, can you imagine the shock waves
it would send through drama club?

An actress dating tech crew?

I just... I didn't want to upstage you

while you were trying to get
a boyfriend of your own.

I can't believe
you didn't tell me and Fabiola.

Fabiola knows.

Wow.

I guess I was wrong when I said
no one would date anyone in the UN.

They just won't date you.

-Shut up, Ben!
-Ow.

I'm sorry. I just didn't know

how you would react
with your legs and everything.

I didn't want to upset you.

Me? Upset?

No. You should be upset
for your weird taste in men.

Me? I'm cool. Cool as ice.

Peace.

You guys saw her hit me, right?
You know, my dad's a lawyer.

When you're a normal person

with genuinely balanced reactions
to things,

it may be hard to understand
why we hotheads fly off the handle.

For me, it's a reasonable reaction

to the general blindness
of most tennis umpires.

For Devi, it's a logical response

to being betrayed
by her supposed best friends.

How could Eleanor have a boyfriend
and not tell her about it?

And why would she tell Fabiola?

Does she think Devi's too unhinged
to handle it?

Or that Devi would be jealous of her?

Do both of her friends think

she's just a pitiful, lonely,
wheelchair girl without a freaking dad?

What the hell?

And that's how it happens, folks.

That's how we hotheads boil over.

What was that?
What happened to the window?

A bird hit it.

Bird?

This is my fault
for keeping the windows so clean.

Where is the poor bird?

It flew away.

It flew away?

After breaking the window with its body?

Devi, that book was blessed by God!

The bird must have done it.

Devi, you are lying
to your mother,

and then bringing shame
on an innocent bird?

Just leave me alone!

Doctor Ryan?

Devi, we don't have an appointment.

I know, but I need your help.

Wait. Why do you look hot?

Do you have a date?

Uh... yes, I do.
And don't look so shocked.

I do have a life
outside of being your therapist.

Not right now, you don't.
I need your help.

Okay.

What's going on?

Eleanor has a secret boyfriend

that her and Fabiola
have been keeping from me,

because they thought I was unhinged
and would have a nervous breakdown.

Which, it seems like you are.

Yeah, I'm losing it, Doc.

Okay. All right.

Talk to me.
How does their lie make you feel?

It doesn't matter how it makes me feel.

It matters how it makes me look.

Well, all right. How do you want to look?

Normal. I just want to be a normal girl,
who isn't called mean names,

and could actually have a boyfriend.

I don't even care who he is,
as long as he wanted to be with me.

Devi, look, can I be honest with you?

Having just any boyfriend,
no matter who he is,

is not gonna make you happier
or change who you are.

Trust me,
but after all you've been through,

maybe you shouldn't be so focused
on having a boyfriend.

I mean, do you really think you'd make
a good girlfriend right now?

Probably not.

Okay.

So what is it you can do this year
to succeed at something

that would actually make you happy...

and make you feel good about yourself?

I think I know what I need to do.

All right. My girl.

Now get to gettin'. I got a hot date.

Good luck on your date.

Later, man.

Hi, Paxton.

You don't know me,
but my name is Devi Vishwakumar.

I'm a sophomore.

I sit behind you in history class.

I was also paralyzed last year?

Oh, okay, great.
You are familiar with that.

So here's the thing.

I'm into you.

Like, I could name every class you've had
for the last two years.

But I won't do that.

And I know you'd never be my boyfriend,

because you're you, and I'm me,

but I was wondering
if you would ever consider...

h--having sex with me?

Oh, my God. I'm such an idiot.
I'm so sorry.

-I can't believe I just did that.
-Yeah.

Okay.

What?

What? That actually worked?

Just sex, right?

Just sex.

I'm down, but I can't tonight.

Wow, okay!

Twist. This is surprising.

Looking forward to it.

Will circle back about it.

Okay!

Devi couldn't believe it.

For the first time, she had something
she wanted to write in her grief journal.