"Getting It" - needs to be beta'd
Posted: Sep 30th 2004, 7:22 pm
Disclaimer: If I owned it, do you think it would have been cancelled?
Getting It
By Lizka
A lot of people don’t get it. Y’know, Angela and me. It’s like they think it’s kind of like that book, with the bug guy? Because it’s so strange, that it shouldn’t be happening, but it is? They think it’s like that.
Sometimes I think like that too. But then, she smiles at me, and it makes sense. Or whatever.
Angela’s really pretty, y’know? Only not in this (what’s the word?) obvious way. You have to really look at her to see it, and once you do, she gets prettier and prettier every time you see her. Or something. It’s like; she doesn’t wear a lot of make up, right? So when you kiss her, it’s like you’re kissing her. And she always smells clean, and kind of like food. I like that. And her eyes … man, her eyes. I’ve never really looked at her eyes, but I always notice hers.
I have this thing for her neck. Is that weird? It’s just really soft, and I just like to, y’know, touch it.
She doesn’t wear tight clothes that often, but I think I like it better that way. So you’re kind of left wondering what’s under all that. And when she does wear a skirt, you, like, appreciate it more. Or whatever. I think I like her lips the best. Sometimes, when she’s babbling, I’ll just tune out, and watch her lips.
Angela has nice lips.
Not that I, y’know, don’t listen to her talk. I like hearing her talk. She always seems to have something to say, or whatever. It’s like she’s always thinking, and you want to know what’s going on in her head. She has a nice voice, too. It’s kind of musical, even though she’s not a very good singer. It’s like a low chord, on a guitar. Or whatever.
She’s always noticing stuff. Sometimes, it’s this really small thing that other people wouldn’t care about, but it seems really important when she says it. I guess it’s because she cares, y’know, about things. And people. Like how she didn’t make fun of me when she found out I’m not very good at reading. Or how she got mad at me for skipping English when she thought I could, like, pass. And how she was worried about her friend, Rickie? She wanted to make sure that he was okay, or whatever.
Angela’s really smart. Like, a lot smarter than me. And maybe that’s why we don’t understand each other sometimes. She’ll say something, and I won’t always get it. So, I end up saying, like, the wrong thing because I'm not sure what I should say. Because sometimes I get her, and sometimes I don't.
I guess it’s because she has this different life from me. She talks to her parents, and she has dinner with them, and her mother wants to meet the boys that her daughters are, like, dating. She’s really innocent, and it makes me want to, y’know, take care of her.
Angela does her homework. She used to do mine, but I made her stop. She’s always reading, and now, she’s trying to loan me books. She doesn't give me any of the really hard ones, because she knows that I'm not, y'know, ready for those yet. At least not on my own. So she gives me stuff like The Outsiders, and Maniac Magee. I think she had to take them from her sister's bookcase.
Sometimes Shane asks me in this really weird voice, why. Because there’s lots of other smart, pretty girls, and some of them put out. And there’s no, like, one reason for me and Angela. Sometimes, I don’t even know why. But I guess it’s like that poem that Mr Katimski read. I mean, she’s pretty and smart and nice, but she’s real, too, with flaws. Like how she babbles when she’s nervous. And, y’know, even though we’re so different, we can still relate to each other. Like at Tino’s party, at the beginning of the year. The music was good, and there was lots to drink, but I was just hanging out inside, watching some music video. It's where I always seem to end up at parties. Angela came in, and her dress was covered in mud, and she just sat there, as if it didn't matter. She just sat there, with me, in the dark, because maybe she didn’t want to be outside either. And it was nice, y’know? To just sit there with someone. And I could just talk to her, and she would let me talk.
Not that we don’t do other stuff. But it’s nice, to like, be with someone who doesn’t always have to be doing something, who's happy just sitting in a car and talking. Who wouldn’t mind leaving a good party and sitting somewhere quiet, where it's just the two of you. And maybe that’s why.
Or whatever.
Getting It
By Lizka
A lot of people don’t get it. Y’know, Angela and me. It’s like they think it’s kind of like that book, with the bug guy? Because it’s so strange, that it shouldn’t be happening, but it is? They think it’s like that.
Sometimes I think like that too. But then, she smiles at me, and it makes sense. Or whatever.
Angela’s really pretty, y’know? Only not in this (what’s the word?) obvious way. You have to really look at her to see it, and once you do, she gets prettier and prettier every time you see her. Or something. It’s like; she doesn’t wear a lot of make up, right? So when you kiss her, it’s like you’re kissing her. And she always smells clean, and kind of like food. I like that. And her eyes … man, her eyes. I’ve never really looked at her eyes, but I always notice hers.
I have this thing for her neck. Is that weird? It’s just really soft, and I just like to, y’know, touch it.
She doesn’t wear tight clothes that often, but I think I like it better that way. So you’re kind of left wondering what’s under all that. And when she does wear a skirt, you, like, appreciate it more. Or whatever. I think I like her lips the best. Sometimes, when she’s babbling, I’ll just tune out, and watch her lips.
Angela has nice lips.
Not that I, y’know, don’t listen to her talk. I like hearing her talk. She always seems to have something to say, or whatever. It’s like she’s always thinking, and you want to know what’s going on in her head. She has a nice voice, too. It’s kind of musical, even though she’s not a very good singer. It’s like a low chord, on a guitar. Or whatever.
She’s always noticing stuff. Sometimes, it’s this really small thing that other people wouldn’t care about, but it seems really important when she says it. I guess it’s because she cares, y’know, about things. And people. Like how she didn’t make fun of me when she found out I’m not very good at reading. Or how she got mad at me for skipping English when she thought I could, like, pass. And how she was worried about her friend, Rickie? She wanted to make sure that he was okay, or whatever.
Angela’s really smart. Like, a lot smarter than me. And maybe that’s why we don’t understand each other sometimes. She’ll say something, and I won’t always get it. So, I end up saying, like, the wrong thing because I'm not sure what I should say. Because sometimes I get her, and sometimes I don't.
I guess it’s because she has this different life from me. She talks to her parents, and she has dinner with them, and her mother wants to meet the boys that her daughters are, like, dating. She’s really innocent, and it makes me want to, y’know, take care of her.
Angela does her homework. She used to do mine, but I made her stop. She’s always reading, and now, she’s trying to loan me books. She doesn't give me any of the really hard ones, because she knows that I'm not, y'know, ready for those yet. At least not on my own. So she gives me stuff like The Outsiders, and Maniac Magee. I think she had to take them from her sister's bookcase.
Sometimes Shane asks me in this really weird voice, why. Because there’s lots of other smart, pretty girls, and some of them put out. And there’s no, like, one reason for me and Angela. Sometimes, I don’t even know why. But I guess it’s like that poem that Mr Katimski read. I mean, she’s pretty and smart and nice, but she’s real, too, with flaws. Like how she babbles when she’s nervous. And, y’know, even though we’re so different, we can still relate to each other. Like at Tino’s party, at the beginning of the year. The music was good, and there was lots to drink, but I was just hanging out inside, watching some music video. It's where I always seem to end up at parties. Angela came in, and her dress was covered in mud, and she just sat there, as if it didn't matter. She just sat there, with me, in the dark, because maybe she didn’t want to be outside either. And it was nice, y’know? To just sit there with someone. And I could just talk to her, and she would let me talk.
Not that we don’t do other stuff. But it’s nice, to like, be with someone who doesn’t always have to be doing something, who's happy just sitting in a car and talking. Who wouldn’t mind leaving a good party and sitting somewhere quiet, where it's just the two of you. And maybe that’s why.
Or whatever.