“What movie?” I ask.
“1900.”
For a second I’m not sure whether she’s telling me the time or the title.
“It’s by Bernardo Bertolucci,” Chlo says, as if that explains something.
I start to say, “Oh yeah, him.” But I don’t bother—Chlo’ll know I’m lying. All I know is it’s got to be one of those artsy-fartsy things. One of those La Behhhllle things.
“It’s at TMU, so you’re supposed to be a student. But they never check IDs. It’s only two bucks to get in. And we’d be going dutch, Trammel. You got that?”
“Yeah.”
Silence.
“So, you want to go?”
“I guess.”
Silence.
“You sure you’re okay, Trammel?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re awfully quiet. And well-mannered. For you.”
“Sorry.”
Silence.
“So what do you think?”
“About what?”
“About anything. About going to a movie. About Bertolucci’s oeuvre. About your most extremely shitty day.”
What do I think? I’m thinking about Grace. How can she not see that she’s just another in a long line of Doris and Graces?
I’m thinking maybe stupid isn’t just not knowing what a metaphor is.
“You know those dead guys who wrote all that English?” I burst out. “Like Byron and Keats and them? I think maybe they only wrote all that stuff in the first place because they wanted to get in some girl’s pants. Or somebody’s pants, anyway,” I add, remembering Byron the letch.
“Maybe so,” Chlo says. “Anyway, sounds like you’re ready for that English test.”
“Those dead guys,” I tell Corinne, “those dead guys don’t know shit about romance.”
WEEK SIX
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
What I Know
The movie was actually pretty good, although it was a little long. It had this evil Nazi guy, and at one point two guys got naked with one girl. On the way home Corinne told me how her green hair got her kicked out of Country Valley Prep School—because it turns out that Corinne is not poor, not at all—and then she went to Trinity Academy for the beginning of this year, until she got the boot when she refused to wear the uniform. She told me how she got her hair cut because it had lost its shock value with her stepmother. And that Brian still doesn’t really like it.
I didn’t tell her what I was really thinking—that Brian better watch his ass. Corrine’s not the type to sit around and take shit from anybody, and old Bri is really starting to dish it out. Telling his own girlfriend how to do her hair.
What I told her was how I pitched three no-hitters last year on the freshman team, and how I think I might want to go to UT or Notre Dame. Corinne said she’d come to one of my games sometime. I told her a little bit about Dori.
I talked about Grace too.
The next week is the English test. I didn’t study for it, of course. I grip my pen and start writing what I know. It doesn’t take long.
1. Name two characteristics of Romantic poetry and give at least one example of each characteristic by discussing the poem in which it appears.
I do’nt know any characteristics of romantic poety. But I can tell what poems I liked and why and what poets. I liked them all okay accept Keats becuase he was boreing. He did’nt have affares and he was’nt an athist. The poems I liked best were the one by Woolsworth about studying outside. I thougt took him to many words to say a simple idea. I like the idea, but it should have been shorter. She Walks In Beauty the one about Bryon’s cousin who wore a black dress with dimonds to a party. I liked it becuase I know how that feels, it reminds me of a girl I use to go out with. But I aslo think Bryon probaly only wrote that just to look smart anyway becuase he went with alot of woman and other peopel not just his cousin. I aslo liked Ozymandyas by Shelly. The one about the statu that fell down and got covered up by sand becuase it makes me wonder what this scholl will be like in a thosand years. And what will be left of me for people to see. Probaly not much, acording to Shelly!
I do’nt like poems very much but I guess I like these okay.
I realize it won’t get me a passing grade. It didn’t in biology. Nobody’s interested in what I know, just what they can teach me. But I’m interested in what I know. Because it takes me a long time to learn it.
Note at the top of test paper, English, period 4:
Colt, it’s good to see you trying to do your own thinking for a change.
75
Poem from the journal of Corinne Hecht:
The Pitcher
He marks the mound as his.
Prowls, struts, commands,
demands all eyes,
then, satisfied,
begins.
His body stills
face stone
mouth firm
eyes hard
he coils up likeawhipthen
crack! unfurls the ball…
Smack! leather on leather.
Then, satisfied,
turns
to smile
a lazy, muscled smile
at all those captive eyes.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to the members of the Four Star Coffee Bar Critique Group and the YAWRITER listserve, for writerly opinions and moral support; especially Catherine Atkins, David Davis, Debra Deur, Janet Fick, Lisa Firke, Chris Ford, Judy Gregerson, Shirley Harazin, Lisa Harkrader, Jim Janik, Kathy Lay, Martha Moore, Jennifer Page, Jan Peck, Diane Roberts, Melissa Russell, Andrea Schulz, B. J. Stone, Shelley Sykes, Sue Ward, Laura Wiess, Nancy Werlin, Cerelle Woods, and Melissa Wyatt.
About the Author
A. M. Jenkins is the highly praised author of DAMAGE, an acclaimed ALA Top 10 Best Book for Young Adults. BREAKING BOXES, Jenkins’s debut young-adult novel, received a California Young Readers Medal and a Delacorte Press Prize. Born and raised in Texas, A. M. Jenkins currently lives in Benbrook with three sons, two cats, a gerbil, and two dogs.
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Also by A. M. Jenkins
Damage
Copyright
OUT OF ORDER. Copyright © 2003 by A. M. Jenkins. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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