Its 1953... n.h.

Chapter 1

I slide out of Betsy's car, Marilyn following closely behind me as we carry our books to the school.

"I think today marks two months until graduation, girls!" Betsy says linking her arm with mine. Marilyn remained quiet, she was too lost in thought while staring at the concrete below us.

"Finally," I respond with a smile, we pass groups of boys my gaze catching one blonde surrounded by a group of four other boys. I look back to Betsy as she rambles on about meeting up with Henry in his t-bird after classes Friday and how they had drove all over hell and creation drinking milkshakes and making out.

"Have you talked to your daddy about beauty school yet?" Betsy asks me as we enter the high school, the bell ringing as we take steps to our lockers.

"I have no chance of convincing him of anything but college," I say sliding books into the locker and looking over to Marilyn who is leaning against hers.

"Just tell him you're gonna do it anyway," Marilyn shrugs and pops her pink bubble gum at me. "He can't get too mad."

"You don't know my daddy," I say and close my locker with a slam, notebooks in hand.

"Just go for a year then quit," Betsy offers as we continue down the hallway to our first period. "I might just do a semester though."

"I guess so," I sigh and look at my first period class, "do I have to?" I say with a grimace, I hated my first period class with a passion. English II with a Mr. Westinheimer.

"You do unless you want to drop out and face the wrath of your daddy," Marilyn says in passing as she leaves Betsy and I to our English class.

When the lunch bell rings, Betsy, Marilyn and I take a seat at our usual table outside. The concrete benches placed directly under the suns menacing rays. Kids loiter around, eating, smoking, the usual.

"So I told Henry on Friday that I couldn't go all the way because I'd had too many fries and wouldn't want to ruin the mood with a burp," Betsy tells us as I pick at the barely edible cafeteria food.

"He was stupid enough to believe that?" Marilyn remarks in her usual nasally voice.

"Believe it or not, what's it matter it was the truth. Either way we're goin' out again tonight," Betsy sips from her milk carton and I slide my tray away from me.

"Whats the matter, Beth, not hungry? Don't blame ya with the food they serve," Marilyn says and takes a bite of an apple that she picked up from the lunch line, just about the only edible thing besides the milk.

"It's not that, it's my brother, he's started a mechanics job at Temple and daddy is ranting and raving about how he needs to be more like me." I explain with a grunt, "but the thing is with Tom, he knows about me not wanting to go to college, so I swear every time daddy brings it up he's gonna spill."

"You trust your brother enough to tell him don't you? Then why would he spill even to your father?" Marilyn questions in her Brooklyn accent. Her parents and sisters moved down here from Brooklyn about 6 years ago and she still has the heavy accent.

"Either way," I sigh and pick up my fork to poke at the red jello on the tray.

"Hey, here's an idea," Betsy says leaning across the table to me and looking at Marilyn too, "why don't I take you girls with me and Henry tonight, get your mind off your daddy a while."

"That's perfect, Beth!" Marilyn says with growing excitement, "we can just go to your house until its time to meet 'im."

"I don't know, Betsy," I say and look around the food court. My eyes fall back on my two friends, who would surely leave me for a guy tonight, "okay okay I'll go, but you have to lend me a dime to call my brother so he'll know."