Jean and Johnny Read Online Free PDF Page A

The third olive they would meticulously cut in two.
    â€œYou lucky girls!” exclaimed plump Mrs. Mundy when she saw the groceries. “The calories you canconsume and not gain an ounce.” She tugged at her skirt as if she felt it might be too tight, kissed both girls lightly on the cheek, and said, “Have a good time and don’t forget to go to bed. We should be home by midnight.”
    â€œWe don’t want to see the bedroom light go off as we drive up the driveway,” said Mr. Mundy. “And don’t forget to wash the dishes.”
    â€œWe always wash them, Dad,” said Elaine, “unless we burn something and have to soak the pan.”
    â€œJean, do you mind if I tell you something?” Elaine asked when her parents had left and the girls had set about preparing their meal. She continued, regardless of whether Jean minded or not. “You should wear your bangs shorter.”
    â€œMy bangs?” repeated Jean, putting her hand to her forehead.
    â€œYes,” said Elaine. “Sometimes you let them get too long and then you go around sort of peering out from under them.”
    â€œI do?” Dismayed by this picture of herself, Jean brushed her bangs away from her forehead.
    â€œYes. You are the gamin type and you should wear them short,” said Elaine, unwrapping the pork chops.
    Jean laughed, amused at hearing Elaine speak in fashion-magazine language. “I thought a gamin was a ragged little boy.”
    â€œYou know what I mean,” said Elaine impatiently. “Sort of little and…well, you know. And another thing—do you have to wear your glasses all the time?”
    â€œI’m pretty nearsighted,” said Jean. “Anyway, I don’t mind them too much anymore. They have become a part of me.”
    â€œBut the point is, you could get along without them in the halls at school without actually walking into the wall,” Elaine said. “And you want to look your best the next time you see the boy. You’re lucky you don’t squint, the way some people do when they take off their glasses.”
    Jean giggled. “Without my glasses I’m not sure I could tell him from the principal.”
    â€œDon’t be silly. Of course you could.” Elaine was very positive. “For one thing the principal is about six inches shorter.”
    Jean cut the stems from the two artichokes. “Oh, Elaine, what difference does it make? He won’t even remember me.”
    â€œOf course he will remember you,” said Elaine. “He danced with you, didn’t he?”
    â€œI wouldn’t exactly call it dancing,” said Jean, “but he did have a good view of the top of my head. And you know something? I still can’t remember what he looked like. I mean—it all happened so fast and I was so surprised, I felt confused.”
    â€œI remember,” said Elaine.
    Jean laid down the paring knife and the artichoke she was trimming. “Elaine, what difference does it make? The whole thing was a horrible mistake. He will never look at me again, even if he does remember me—and I almost hope he doesn’t. He probably just asked me to dance because he felt sorry for me or something.”
    â€œHe didn’t feel sorry for me ,” Elaine pointed out. “Anyway, I don’t think boys ask girls to dance because they feel sorry for them.”
    Jean was silent, She was turning over in her mind, as she had so many times since the incident, the possible reasons why the perfectly strange boy had asked her to dance. And why he had chosen her instead of Elaine. It might have been better if he had asked Elaine, who at least knew how to dance because she had joined the junior high school dancing class when she was in the seventh grade. Jean had not been able to, because at thetime the Jarretts could not spare the nine dollars that the class cost. But perhaps Elaine was right about the glasses. Maybe