Brian's head emerges from the bathroom; he sees a figure in a long green army jacket running up the hallway, followed by Rickie, who crosses the hall nearer Brian, briefly making eye contact, and hurrying on his way. Brian looks down the hall to see what appears to be cola streaming out of a locker door through a gunshot, uh, "wound," the gun itself lying on the floor below it. Brian slowly walks toward the gun as if he means to pick it up (stupid move) when all the classroom doors fly open and students flood into the halls, stopping short and leaving a good four feet's radius around the "crime scene." I hope Brian was successful in using the toilet, because he looks as if he might crap his pants. A girl (who, as Omar put it so many times, "happens to be black") emerges from the crowd and cries, "That's my soda!" She flings open her locker door and whines, "Gross!" Baldo Civics shoves his way through the mob, yelling at everyone to "get back" and "be quiet," and demands of Brian, "Did you see who it was?" Brian stares at everyone's aghast faces. "Did you?" Baldo asks again. Brian catches flies.

Angela wanders out of the otherwise empty classroom, still studying the note in her hands. Finally, the camera cuts to it so that we in the audience may read it, too:

ANGELA & JORDAN CATALANO
COMPLETE SEX!!!
IN HIS CAR.
...CAN YOU BELIEVE HER??

I think there's a verb missing, there, somewhere. Angela shakes her head wanly.

A moment later, she's shoving her way into a crazy packed girls' bathroom, where everyone is abuzz. The girl whose locker was shot is milking her momentary fame for all it's worth: "I could have been right at that spot! I was there -- what? -- like ten minutes earlier." Rayanne peevishly snaps, "What is the big deal? It's not like anybody even got a flesh wound. A bottle of soda was shot tragically." Soda Girl ponderously replies, "Well, I don't want our school to have a reputation." "Like yours, you mean?" Rayanne retorts, continuing on her way to the mirror, where she smooths her hair and declares, "Everybody knows there's, like, fifty guns in school any given moment. The fact that they've never gone off before shows what a totally safe place this is." When the chatter fails to cease at Rayanne's assessment of the situation, she bellows, "Give it a rest!" to the room at large, and shoves her way against the far wall, where Angela is moping. Rayanne assures her, "No one's going to get shot, I promise you." Angela shoots her a "duh" look and Rayanne twigs, "Oh." "Who would write a note like that?" Angela whines. Rayanne wisely reminds her, "Everybody writes notes like that. We write notes like that." Angela claims, "Yeah, but we write notes that are true." "This isn't true?" Rayanne asks ingenuously. Angela insists, "We barely made out! You haven't been telling people --" "Oh, Angela, come on. Hey, Rickie!" says Rayanne -- rather unsatisfactorily, I would think, were I Angela.