Some Kind Of Wonderful Page #2

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I trust you.

Now, I want you to stay close,|but not too close.

You back off when I say.|Okay?

Do both your parents work?

Yeah?

Well, maybe I'll stop by|one day after school this week.

Amanda.

Hi.

Wanna go to your place?

What's wrong?

- Do you mind?|- Yes. I wanna know what's wrong.

She's a friend of my little sister.

Her brother was in a car accident|and she's a little upset.

I know you're coming. Why would I|be trying to make it with another girl?

How can you be so beautiful|and so insecure at the same time?

Trust is the basis|of any relationship.

I trust you.

I want to give you this.

Now go get the car|and I'll meet you out front.

Hey, hey, whoa, don't.

That belongs to the slumlord|that owns this place.

It's his pride and joy.

Pretty sick.

How does it feel to stand|under a real Mercedes-Benz?

About the same as standing under a Ford.|Why? Do you get off on it?

Can I ask you a question?

You know a girl|named Amanda Jones?

In school?

- What about her?|- What do you think of her?

Rat bait. Why?

-Just curious.|- What about?

Her. Who she is.

Because she's beautiful, right?

Guys are so sickening.

Really, it must be a drag|to be a slave to the male sex drive.

I didn't say anything about sex.

Oh. Want to start|a book club with her?

I didn't say I wanted|to do anything with her.

I just think she's interesting.

Don't go mistaking paradise|for a pair of long legs.

What's that mean?

Don't go roaming where|you don't belong. It's just an opinion.

I express an interest in someone I don't|even know, and you're getting tense.

This is not tension.|This is reason.

The way this girl and her big money,|cruel heart society spit on everyone...

is not interesting,|it's pathetic.

She's not big money.|Do you know where she lives?

Yeah, in our sector.

But she runs with|the rich and the beautiful...

which is guilt by association.

This is getting stale.

You calling out for food?

No. You can call if you want.

Don't you ever eat at home?

I don't like to eat alone.

Amanda Jones?

Forget about it.|It's nothing.

It's not important.

You couldn't score her|in a million years.

"A," you're too shy and closed up|to even approach her...

and "B," she'd kill you.

Chicks like her|have one thing on their mind...

and you don't make enough of it|to matter to her.

You can't judge a book|by its cover.

Yeah, but you can tell|how much it's gonna cost.

That's deep.

You want shallow,|call Amanda Jones.

Speak of the she-devil.

Could you fill it up?|Super unleaded.

Check the oil.

- Can you turn off your engine, please?|- My pleasure.

Be nice, or I'll make you|check the tires.

So, this is what you do|for a living, huh?

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