Sita (blinded_dream) wrote in msclbookclub,
Sita
blinded_dream
msclbookclub

Here are the first three chapters. (They're each in their own post.) I
fixed some grammatical mistakes in the first two chapters but other
than that, they're pretty much the same.





Oh, I may or may not have dropped out out letters/words. So if you see
anything weird, just comment and let me know. Also, this is coming from
word so I think they have retarded code things in there so just ignore
those, okay?






PS: The spacing? Yeah. It's RETARDED.


My So Called Life Goes On by Catherine Clark 




Chapter Two






 Angela lifted her bag onto her shoulder as she headed for
the waiting red car after work.






 Jordan Catalano. I
can’t believe we’re back together. It’s like something out of a fable. But not
Aesop’s
Fables. A different kind, where you don’t
understand the lesson at the end.






 Jordan
was wearing a faded navy T-shirt, dark blue jeans, and black boots. A cigarette
hung on his lower lip. Sometimes Angela found it kind of weird that she was
actually seeing someone like Jordan.
He definitely wasn’t the type her parents wanted her to be with. But then he
wasn’t really a type at all. Jordan
was an individual.










 “Don’t you get hot?” Angela asked as she slid into the car
seat next to him.        Jordan’s
forehead creased as he looked at her. Angela could see his deep blue eyes, even
in the dark. “Hot?” he said blankly.


"I mean…your clothes. It’s summer,” Angela said. “So I was
just thinking…you could like, wear shorts or something sometime.”


Jordan
took the last drag off his cigarette and threw it out the window. “The thing
is, legs really shouldn’t be exposed. When you really look at them, they’re
basically ugly.” He ran a hand through his shoulder-length brown hair.






Angela stared at her pale knees emerging from the bottom of
her long cutoffs. Her ankles were slightly swollen from being on her feet all
night. She hadn’t shaved her legs for a few days, either. Stubble. I have
stubble.






“So you would not believe what Hallie said to me tonight,”
Angela began, changing the subject as they cruised down the brightly lit city
streets toward Louie’s.


“She actually said I was improving.



“And that’s bad?” Jordan
asked. 

“Yes! Because she just assumes that I need all this work to
become, like, good enough. But tonight she told me I was ‘verging on the
competent,’” Angela said.


Jordan
didn’t say anything. He probably doesn’t understand what that means, Angela
thought. I don’t even know what it means. It sounds like a disease.






“She said you were a virgin?” Jordan asked finally. “In like…Europe or whatever?”






Angela burst out laughing. “Not virgin on the continent.” Though
I probably am the last one, in Europe or
anywhere else.
“Verging on the competent.”






He’s obsessed about me being a virgin. No, I am. But I’m
not going to change that. Not yet.






They pulled up to Louie’s. Angela glanced across at Jordan as he
got out of the car. She loved how he moved, the way he walked heel-first,
slouching, with sort of a natural, slow-motion rhythm.






On the other hand, I wouldn’t want to make any hard and
fast rules about sex,
Angela thought. That might be…limiting.






Angela walked into Louie’s and paused in the doorway, taking
a look around. In a far corner, she saw three of her friends. Rayanne Graff was
playing pool with Rickie Vasquez and Corey Helfrick.






“Hey, there’s Rickie…” Angela started to say, but when she
turned to Jordan
he was already gone.






There’s this magnet connecting him and his friends. This
really powerful, really annoying magnet.
Jordan always seemed to abandon
Angela as soon as he saw the guys—or as soon as he saw her friends,
maybe.






Angela walked over to the corner where Rayanne, Rickie, and
Corey were gathered around the pool table.






“Angela! How nice to see you.” Rayanne gave a mock bow. Her
long brown hair fell over her face, one single blond braid dangling in the
middle.






“Five in the corner pocket,” Rickie said as he leaned over
the pool table. He was wearing a red bowling shirt with the name “Frank”
stitched in gold on the collar. He wore three silver earrings in his right ear
lobe, and he had short, curly, dark brown hair.






Rickie was living with Mr. Katimski, their English teacher,
and his companion, Ted. Mr. Katimski had taken Rickie in when Rickie was
homeless, and he had recently started the process of legally adopting him.
Angela was so glad that Rickie had a permanent place to live again. He looked a
hundred times healthier.






“You can’t get five,” Rayanne told him. She was wearing
short-shorts and an old army tank top. “I have five. You guys are
stripes, remember? I’m solid.”






“That’ll be the day,” Rickie teased her.






Rayanne swatted him on the rear with her cue stick. “I am.
In this game, anyway.”






“True.” Rickie shrugged. “We, on the other hand, are
pathetic.”






“We can’t even win when it’s two against one,” Corey said.
He adjusted his tortoiseshell glasses as he prepared to make the next shot.






“So how was work?” Rickie asked Angela.






“Okay. Did you ever hate someone for no reason?” Angela
asked. She sat on a stool next to the pool table.






“All the time,” Rayanne said. “Why? Who do you hate?”


“I don’t hate her,” Angela said. “I just wish she’d
shut up once in a while. Hallie, I mean.”






“I think Hallie’s kind of cool,” Rayanne said. “She’s like a
role model for me.”


“She is?” Angela was stunned. Someone like Rayanne
wouldn’t have role models unless they were in old punk bands, maybe. It was
impossible.






“Sure. She’s in her thirties, right? She’s single. She has
her own business—or half of one, anyway. That is so cool. That’s, like, my
dream.”






“So Rayanne, what would your business be?” Corey asked.


Rayanne perched on a s tool next to Angela and looked
thoughtful for a second. “Selling platform shoes. Owning a really cool antique
record store. Having my own movie theater and only showing old movies. Who
knows?” She hopped off the stool and prepared for her next shot. “Angela, that
reminds me. Did you hear the good news? I got a call-back to do a second
audition for the play at Hope Street Community Theater—the lead role!”






“Really?” Angela said. “What is it?”






“Some original thing,” Rayanne said as she sank another
striped ball in the corner pocket. “Its called The Road to Wisdom or
something…”


Walking to Wisdom,” Corey corrected her.


“Whatever. It’s by some local writer. We’re all going to
work on it, actually,” Rickie said. “That’s the plan. Me, Rayanne, and Corey.”


…the award-winning team from Liberty
High that brought you Our Town,” Rayanne announced in a deep voice.






“Great. That’s really…great,” Angela said, trying to summon
a little enthusiasm. But whenever she heard mention of Our Town she
couldn’t help feeling a little sick to her stomach. Instinctively she looked
across the smoky room for Jordan.






This was exactly how it always kept happening. She’d sort of
start to hang out with Rayanne again, and almost think that it was like last
fall, when they first became friends and she’d trusted Rayanne almost with her
life. Then someone would say something, and it would remind Angela of what had
happened after that, around the time Rayanne had had sex with Jordan. How
she’d completely stabbed Angela in the back.


That was when Angela always felt a chill go through her, a
sickening, unfriendly, humanity-hating chill. And the whole time, she would
keep smiling and nodding at Rayanne, as if everything were okay.


“Angela!” A loud bell rang at the food counter.
“An-ge-la!” 






 “Gotta go—my fries
are up.” Angela smiled faintly at Rickie, then headed past the pool tables to
the counter. She was just reaching for her cardboard fry boat when she saw a
familiar face approaching.


“Hey, Angela, what are you doing here?” Lewis asked.






Sometimes Angela forgot how good-looking Lewis could be. No
wonder the older female customers at the restaurant were always hitting on him.
She was usually too busy to notice. Lewis was a year older than her, and about
to start his senior year at a boarding school in New Hampshire.






“Oh, just, you know, hanging out,” Angela said. “Trying to
forget about work. You?”


“One of my buddies from school is visiting for the weekend,
so I had to show him all the hotspots.” Lewis looked around the pool hall. “So
to speak. Hey, do you have tomorrow off?”


Angela nodded, curling a lock of her auburn hair around her
ear. It was a nervous habit she kept wanting to stop doing. “I can’t wait to
not go back there.”


“So what are you going to do?”


“Oh. Well, I’m not sure about that. Yet. But its definitely
going to involve sleeping late…”






“…And going out to eat and being waited on by someone else,”
Lewis finished for her.


Angela laughed. “Definitely. Anyone else. Well,
except by my father. That wouldn’t count.”


“Does he cook for you guys at home?” Lewis asked.






“He hardly has time now. But he used to, especially when he
was trying out new ideas,” Angela said, gingerly tasting a hot French fry.


“Cool. Well maybe you could meet me and Charlie for a late
breakfast somewhere,” Lewis said. “We could really give the Pancake Place waitresses a run for their
money.”






“Sure. I mean, that sounds nice. I just don’t know…”






“Hey.” All of a sudden Jordan was standing behind Angela.
He put his arms around her waist, and his breath tickled her ear.


She peered over her shoulder at him. “Hey.”


“You want to go?” He reached around her and took a French
fry out of the cardboard container.


This is really weird. Was Lewis just asking me out? Did Jordan sense
that, halfway across the room, while he was pretending to talk to Shane?
“Um,
Jordan Catalano?” she stammered, looking back at Lewis. “This is Lewis
Griffith.”






“Hey.” Jordan
nodded.






“Hi. You and Angela go to school together?” Lewis asked. He
sounded a little surprised. Okay, so technically Jordan was old enough to be in
college. He just…wasn’t, yet.


Jordan
didn’t say anything.


“Yeah, good old Liberty High,” Angela quickly replied for
him. “But don’t remind us, because it’s only June.” Of course, Jordan was in
summer school to make up for failing two classes. But Lewis didn’t need to know
that.


 Jordan squinted
at Angela as if his eyes were bothering him. “So do you want to go?” He took
the fry boat out of her hand.


“Sure.” Angela took his other hand. “See you…at work,” she
said over her shoulder to Lewis. “Have fun with Charlie.”


As she and Jordan left Louie’s, Angela thought about what
had just happened. It was sort of weird. Lewis didn’t invite Jordan and me
to breakfast. Just me. But didn’t I tell him I was seeing Jordan? Is he
interested in me anyway?


She couldn’t help noticing how fast Jordan had
found her, once he saw her talking to another guy. So that’s the secret to
being in public together. Just find another guy, and Jordan comes back like a boomerang.


The two of them sat in the car and fed each other French
fries, laughing as they dragged them through ketchup.


This is such a date thing to do, Angela thought. It
isn’t like us at all.
She and Jordan never had real “dates.” The way Angela
saw it, Jordan
had this sort of learning disability when it came to making plans. He just
couldn’t do it—or wouldn’t, anyway.  






“Don’t get any ketchup on the seats,” Jordan said.


“Oh, right. I forgot, this car is, like, a museum,”
she teased Jordan.


“It’s valuable,” Jordan said. “And I can’t…”


“It’s okay.” Angela laughed. “I understand. Not that I even
have my own car. But at least I have my license now, so…”


“I’ll let you drive,” Jordan said. “Hey, remember those
lessons I gave you?”






Angela remembered all right. She remembered how they’d spent
so much time making out, she hadn’t been able to focus on the dashboard, or the
steering wheel, or anything but Jordan.
Somehow her driving lessons had landed them in a debate about whether or not
they were going to have sex. She wanted to, but she couldn’t—at least not back
then. Now, she wasn’t sure.


“You know how we broke up after that? Because I wouldn’t
sleep with you?” Angela asked.


“That abandoned place we went to. You hated it,” Jordan said.


“That place was weird,” Angela said.


“I know. That’s why next time…it should be…different.”


“Well, yeah. I kind of assumed it would be,” Angela said.


“So you mean you’ve thought about it?” Jordan asked.
“Again. Since then, I mean.”










“Of course,” Angela said. Should she tell him that she
thought about it all the time? Or at least every day.



“So can we maybe like…consider it.? Soon?” Jordan asked.






“Yeah. Sure,” Angela said. We can consider it all we
want. I just don’t know if I’m ready yet. To trust you. Considering you and
Rayanne actually did it in this car.      






What sort of museum would this be, anyway? The Car Sex
Hall of Fame?

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