Chapter 16

Francine

I woke the next morning just as confused as I was when I got back from the double date.

Janine's outlook on life gave me a lot to think about. She could be seen as a shallow self-centered climber, even a gold-digger. But she understood who she was and why she was that way. What impressed me most was she made no apologies for it, nor did she really rationalize her actions and outlook against anyone else's. Her anecdote about Bradd's previous girl friend ruining the car seatcovers was repeated without much apparent malice. She could have gotten into a name-calling shouting match with the girl but she had just walked off. That took class.

On the other hand, I was much more like that girl than I was like Janine. Apparently, because I got carried away by my biological instincts, I was a slut. I wasn't affronted by that inference; I'd often thought of myself that way, and I knew I was at a sort of crossroads, here. I'd hoped to change my social life-reputation at this new school but now I realized it would be a little harder than I thought. I wasn't around the rest of my new classmates yet but I had to assume that Janine would be gossiped about. And she didn't care.

On the other hand, she was relatively close with Mary Ann and Sally and knew about their little arrangements and didn't criticize them for the seeming hypocrisy. It simply didn't matter to her and was just fairly amusing in her view. Nor did she have any negative comment about Peggy.

So, Janine would be a good friend to have, at least as long as I didn't go after any guy she'd set her sights on. Or, I assumed, as long as I didn't gossip about her. I could hang around with Janine just fine. The downside would be that I would probably be included in gossip and innuendo about her.

I had no idea whether Mary Ann and Sally were subject of that sort of speculation. But, from Janine's comment on the girls pulling off the stunt to stop talk on Peggy,

I suspected they weren't.

Added to my confusion, my reaction to being with Brock. He was a nice guy. I'd dated a lot of nice guy jocks, they're more common than stereotypes suggest. I'd even screwed a few of them. Sadly, I was more likely to screw the pushy types. Just because they were pushy, and I was a pushover.

I decided it was time to talk to my mom. Besides, I smelled breakfast and I was starved.

"How was your date, honey?"

"It was okay, Brock seems like a nice guy." I didn't know how to get to the point. Mom was mom, though.

"Something on your mind, honey?" She looked at me with that patented 'come on, spill it.' look.

"I'm confused. I don't think I can handle the pressure."

"Oh? What pressure?"

I blushed a little I'm sure. I always hated bringing up personal stuff, even though I knew my mom never judged me.

"Janine's nice but she's not like me."

"Oh, how's that."

"She doesn't care what people say or think about her."

I recounted the scene in the lobby after the movie. And what Janine had said about that girl.