“Yeah,” I mumbled, staring at my work. I had no idea what to say.
But Josephine carried on, apparently oblivious to my awkwardness. “It’s going to suck only seeing my friends on the weekends, but whatever. I don’t really know anyone at this school at all. Are people nice here?”
“Nope.”
Josephine laughed, to my surprise. “Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard about this place. Glen Park’s full of assholes. John Hespeler is the stoner school, Queen Liz has all the rich kids, and Glen Park’s got the assholes.”
“My dad’s a teacher at John Hespeler,” I offered helpfully.
“Oh yeah? Does he smoke a lot of pot?”
We laughed. I started feeling more comfortable. “Fuck no. What are the kids at Our Lady like?”
“Really cool. It’s probably because most of them grew up with religion and stuff and their families are real strict. So they get pretty crazy. But there’s assholes there too.”
For the rest of that period we talked. And we ended up having lunch together too. And every day after that.
FIVE
Mom was relieved that I’d found a friend. When I’d hole up in my room and listen to music and do my homework, she never complained about the bands or anything. She didn’t say a word about how I was dressing or wearing my hair. Neither did Dad. I think they were really happy that I was doing well that first term, that I’d talk about Josephine, and that my grades were good. I was pretty happy too. Sure, Josephine didn’t listen to any of the bands I liked, but that was okay. She didn’t make fun of me for it either.
We’d go shopping downtown sometimes on Saturdays, mostly looking for clothes and stuff in thrift stores. Neither one of us had a big enough allowance to shop at the trendy stores, but that was fine because neither one of us was interested in that crap. I was always looking for black stuff, or dark plaid, and old, tough-looking boots. She had more of a hippie thing going on and would look for long dresses and sweaters. We never had to compete when we’d find something cool, and we never judged each other on any of it. It was a beautiful autumn. As the leaves changed, I spent many afternoons with Josephine, chatting as we made our way downtown. I felt important because I was with a friend. I learned to relax with her and be myself, talking openly about how the kids at school made me sick. She’d encountered Brandi by this point, but Brandi had treated her like wallpaper, preferring to abuse kids who offended her in some way that Josephine didn’t.