Under the Bridge by Rebecca Godfrey, Ellen R. Sasahara, Felicity Don Read Free Book Online

new car, she reflected on her progress. Truth be told, and she would tell it, immodestly yet constantly: she was becoming legendary! Colin Jones may have thought of her as a “twisted little troublemaker,” but who was he? A white guy with long hair (very uncool) in a ponytail (even uncooler) in straight jeans (uncoolest) and a dull suburban life (uncool, obviously). By the time she was in New York and working for John Gotti, Colin Jones would merely be a mechanic or a sales clerk. If he was lucky, he’d become floor manager at Wal-Mart.
    As she drove by the field behind Shoreline School, Josephine recalled a recent event of which she was most proud. The conversation went like this:
    Warren, a curly-haired boy, with eyes rapt and wet: “I’ve heard so much about you.”
    Josephine Bell: “Yeah, what did you hear?”
    Warren: “All the guys said you were good looking. It’s so cool that I finally get to meet you.”
    Josephine Bell: “Yeah, whatever. That’s nice.”
    She’d taken a cigarette some girl handed to her. She tilted her dimpled chin. Everybody was talking to her.
    Everybody: “I can’t believe you’re back! It’s so cool! Where have you been?”
    And she’d smiled mysteriously, not revealing the grim fact that she’dbeen on a tour of foster homes, dull, stupid homes with dull, stupid people, who asked her to leave after they found new children, better children, their own children. Warren asked her if she’d like to go to a party with him. He said something about his girlfriend, Syreeta. She sunned in the words of praise.
Oh my God, that’s Josephine Bell! Josephine Bell!!! I can’t believe I finally get to meet you.
    â€œI felt like a celebrity,” she would later recall. “I thought somebody was gonna ask me for my autograph.”
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    Had Josephine known Reena was hoping to find her, she would not have cared. She would not have driven in search of the besotted girl in the Karmann Ghia. Josephine would not have been impressed by the cars subtle elegance. The loving uncle would have seemed too protective and his concerns about nihilism in contemporary culture not worthy of a debate. She had no desire to meet Reena’s father, for his knowledge of Chaucerian motifs was, to her, utterly irrelevant.
    She drove toward the home of Kelly Ellard. She wasn’t sure if Kelly would be able to hang out tonight, for Kelly was “actually a pretty good girl.” (“Like if I go and hang out with her, and stuff, she’d say, ‘Oh shit. I’ve got to call my parents.’ She’d always be worried about that, whereas, me, I don’t care. I’d say, ‘Let’s skip our curfew. Let’s be badasses.’ But Kelly would say, ‘Oh no, I’ll be grounded.’”) Josephine thought it was “kind of funny” the way Kelly would “actually listen to her parents and stuff.”
    Nevada was grounded, so Josephine drove down the street to see if Colin Jones was home.
    She thought of Kelly some more, wishing she could see her and go for a drive in the new car. She and Kelly had always been best friends, ever since they were both eleven. When she’d been living in those stupid homes far away from View Royal, she’d kept Kelly’s picture on her wall. She hadn’t written her letters. That would have been too much. But she’d missed Kelly, and she realized as she drove that Kelly was her “loyalest” friend.
She’s like a sister to me,
she thought.
    Some girls would be jealous of Josephine Bell, but not Kelly. Some girls would think Josephine Bell was a slut just because she was gorgeous. (“That always pissed me off when girls would say, ‘Maybe she’s a slut,’ just because some girl is pretty. I’m not a slut. I’m not at all.”)
    Kelly wasn’t like that,
Josephine