You mean this exchange?
Buffy: How come you didn't tell me they were doing the yearbook
pictures? (crosses her arms)
Cordelia: Didn't I? Oh, I guess I forgot. What's the big?
Buffy: It's just... (exhales) You could've thought about somebody else
for thirty seconds, that's all.
Cordelia: Hey, I am under a *lot* of pressure here.
Buffy: Oh, yeah, campaigning. Rough gig.
Cordelia: What would you know about it? Just because you were Guacamole
Queen when you were three doesn't mean you understand how this works.
Buffy: Obviously, it involves handing out entirely lame flyers.
Cordelia: No. It involves being part of this school and having actual
friends.
Buffy takes offense, and glares at Cordelia.
Cordelia: Now, if it was about monsters, blood, and innards, then you'd
be a shoo-in. I'd like to see *you* try to win the crown.
Buffy: You would?
Cordelia huffs and walks around Buffy to leave.
Buffy: Then you will.
Cordelia stops in her tracks and turns to face her.
Cordelia: What does that mean?
Buffy: (faces her) I'm gonna show you how it's done. I'm gonna run for
Homecoming Queen, and I'm going to win.
Cordelia: This is starting to be sad.
Buffy: Sorry, Cordy, but you have no idea who you're messing with.
Cordelia: What? The Slayer?
Buffy: I'm not talking about the Slayer. I'm talking about Buffy.
You've awakened the Prom Queen within. And that crown is going to be
mine.
