It was the spring of 1976 and Diane Chambers had just ended her sophmore year of college. Not the same college, though. Her first year was Boston University back east. Her good friend, Rebecca Prout, decided she needed a change of scenery and chose to go to the University of Connecticut for her second year. Diane thought the change would do her good since she was still reeling with her father's death. Maybe if she got out of Massachusettes, she wouldn't be haunted by her father's memory and she can find happiness again albeit elsewhere.

"Rebecca, let's go have some fun," Diane says spontaneously one night while they were both reading in their dorm bunks.

"Oh, do you want to go to the coffee shop for poetry night?" Rebecca asks looking up from her book.

"No, not that," she scuffs. Man, Rebecca was such a stiff. "I mean. Let's go have a drink or two. We've gotten straight A's all year, we deserve it! What do you say?"

"Well, girls like us in a bar?"

"Why not us?" Diane asked frustrated taking Rebecca by the hand and leading them out of their dorm room. Diane couldn't explain it but she needed a release. She just wanted to let her hair down and she didn't know, act like a normal college girl. They only had to walk one block before she spotted Cracked Thunder, a bar that was popular with the campus kids.

"I don't know about this," admitted Rebecca timidly.

"Oh, Rebecca, you got to brighten up and enjoy yourself!" It was truly exhausting trying to pick this girl up. It was then she bumped into a college girl she didn't recognize. She was a beautiful girl though; she had long, auburn hair and green eyes. Her fashion sense was fun and flirty. Diane guessed her to be a sorority girl.

"Excuse me, I'm terribly sorry," Diane said trying to smooth things over.

"I'll forgive you," she says with a smile. "This time!"

The girl and group of friends laugh in her face. Diane looked down at herself and realized what a nerd she looked like compared to that girl. Her hair was cut in a Dorothy Hammil style and she wore a pale pink polo shirt with a gray pencil skirt. She guessed the least she could have done was look less of a pencil-neck.

"Do you know who that was?" Rebecca asked in a snotty tone as they approached a table inside.

"No," Diane admits as they sit down.

"That was Backseat Becky!"

"Who?"

"Her real name is Rebecca Howe and she's a loose woman, I'm telling you!"

"How do you know her? I sure don't!"

"Well, I've just heard stories. I don't associate with her kind and you shouldn't either."

"I don't," she says with an eye roll. She was getting so sick of everybody from her mother to her best friend about who she could and could not associate with. That night she made a promise to herself as she sipped her soda water. She promised herself that she would not be controlled by the whims of the upper class. She promised herself that she would one day be able to hang out with Backseat Becky's kind and not care what she thought. She also promised herself that she would find a bar with just as good looking as the bartender working that night. Rebecca may have thought she was a fish out of water but to Diane this bar was a wonderland. There was something so familiar about this kind of atmosphere and she didn't want to leave.

"I think we should go," Rebecca ordered getting up out of her chair.

"Why? We haven't had real drinks yet!"

"We have tests tomorrow."

"So?"

"Oh come on, Diane. You can't honestly say you're enjoying your time? The music is loud and so aren't half the guys in this place."

"That's very prejudiced of you to say!" she said scuffing at her once again.

"Fine. If this place suits your fancy, I guess you're not who I thought you were..." she says turning on her heels.

Diane fought the urge to stay and got up from the table also. She put the money on the table underneath the glass and followed Rebecca out the door. Rebecca had a smug smile on her face as she met Diane on the other side of the door.

"I knew you would see reason," she says in that holier-than-thou voice that made Diane want to slap her. Did everything in life have to have a reason?