“Well, whatever,” Julian says, waving my comment away. “Maybe ruining is too strong a word. But now she’s got to put everything on hold while she takes care of a baby? She was really smart, too. She always talked about going to Baylor and being a doctor and stuff. Man, that’s disappointing.”

“She can still do all that stuff.” Camille sighs. “Maybe she’ll give the baby up for adoption or not even go through with the whole pregnancy. But even if she didn’t do either of those things, who says she can’t be a mom and go to Baylor and be a doctor? Jeez, Juls.”

Julian just shakes his head. “Maybe. I don’t know. It just seems like she could have made a better choice.”

My stomach is in knots. On the one hand, I’m really glad I decided to keep my mouth shut and not say anything about Frankie and Coley to Julian. On the other hand, I can almost see where Julian is coming from. I may have even had the same beliefs as him before Coley came along, even though my own parents were still in high school when they had Frankie. But I can’t imagine what my life would look like right now if Coley wasn’t in it. And I can’t imagine Frankie not being a mother. It just fits her, you know? And she still managed to finish high school, and she’s going to start college classes once she gets back here to Meridien.

And maybe my father wasn’t exactly the best example of teen parenthood, but my mother does just fine for herself. She finished high school and college and managed to do a decent job raising Frankie and me. Julian’s got it all wrong. I hate that he’s so vocal about all his opinions, though. It makes him sound like an insensitive ass, and I don’t really think that’s the case. I think maybe he just talks without thinking sometimes.

We walk down Main in silence for a few minutes. Outside of Ron Redd’s Rapid Repair, there’s a giant poster with COUNTDOWN TO THE TAYLOR TITANS written in bright red marker. Underneath is a great big 32, counting down the days to homecoming.

“This is the kind of thing that makes me nuts.” Julian points to the sign in the dusty window. “Does anyone even remember that we have three other games before the Taylor game?” Julian sighs.

“Are you still thinking about your permanent record there, cranky pants?” Camille elbows Julian.

“Maybe you think it’s a joke, but football and grades are my ticket out of here,” he answers without a smile. “I’m not willing to sacrifice my chances of going to college or whatever over some dumb tradition everyone thinks I should be in charge of. All it would take is one screwup, and I can kiss a scholarship goodbye.”