Fast Times at Ridgemont High (37 page)

“Well. Her grade goes down from an A- to a B+.”

“I don’t think she cares,” said her girlfriend.

It was at that moment that Brad Hamilton walked into the classroom to deliver to Mrs. G. his ten-year letter. The speech class stopped in silent respect. A buzz passed through the class.
That’s the guy! That’s the guy who poured coffee on the armed robber!!

“Sorry I’m late with this, Mrs. G.,” said Brad. “I wanted to do some extra thinking about this letter.”

Brad Hamilton placed his letter on Mrs. G.’s desk. Here was the lunch-court king of last September, toppled from grace in October, back on top in June. He made it look easy. Looking back, he had been struggling all year long just to make his car payments, cover his schoolwork, and just stay even. He had been busting his
ass,
he figured, when his parents, at the same age, were probably busy just being seventeen.

College could wait another year, Brad had decided. He was going to put in a full summer at the 7-Eleven, keeping those little guys out of the store and pulling in the coin. Who knew where it would take him, but he was ready for the ride.

All Brad knew right now was that sometime ten years from now he would be visiting his parents, and they would say, “Oh Brad, something came for you in the mail.” And Brad would open a decade-old letter, this record of his tumultuous senior year:

Dear Brad:

This graduation business sure sneaks up on you. Every year I get my annual back, and it’s filled with “Have a nice summer.” Now it’s “Have a nice life.” That’s going to take some getting used to. If I could go back and do this year over, there are a few things I wouldn’t have done. I wouldn’t have bought a gas guzzler, and I wouldn’t have worked at Carl’s. I would have taken another class with Mr. Hand. I would have taken Dina Phillips to Hawaii for three weeks, and I then would have married Linda Barrett. As for my friends, I wouldn’t change one of them, for they are the best group of friends a guy could have.

Sincerely,
Brad Hamilton

He walked out of speech class and over to the parking lot, to The Cruising Vessel. Stacy was waiting for him by the car.

“Let me guess,” said Brad. “You want a ride home.”

“Mind reader,” said Stacy.

Brad opened her car door first, a grand gesture for him, and then walked around to his side. He got inside The Vessel and gunned the engine.

“All in all,” he said, “an excellent year.”

“I know it was,” said Stacy. “Just wish me luck. I have
two more years
here.”

They headed down Ridgemont Drive, past fast-food row. As he drove, Brad spotted a couple of unkempt underclassmen loitering on the street corner. He stuck his head completely out of the window to shout at them.

“HEY,” he yelled, “WHY DON’T YOU
GET A JOB!!!”

Back at Ridgemont High, a motorcycle ripped along Luna Street. There were war cries coming from the parking lot.

The third bell had rung.

Grateful Acknowledgments

David Obst, Irving Azoff, Art Linson, Neal Preston, Bob Bookman, Joel Bernstein, Fred Hills, Danny Bramson, Ron Bernstein, Kathy DeRouville, Erica Spellman, Jackie Snyder, Cindy Crowe, Alan Hergott, David Rensin, Virginia Johnstone, Tom Pollock, Bill Maguire, Leslie Ellen, Louise Goffin, Judy Boasberg, George Cossolias, Judd Klinger, Susan Blond, The Thugs, Debbie Gold, Richard C. Woods, Karla Bonoff, Harold Schmidt, Daniel Kortchmar, Shaun Daniel, Thom Mount, Susan Bolotin, Abigale Haness, John Dodds, Kevin McCormick, Lori Zech, David Bernstein, Barry Steinman, Jann S. Wenner, Riley Kathryn Ellis, Martha Cochrane, and Wendy Sherman.

C
AMERON
C
ROWE
lives in Los Angeles and is a free-lance writer, contributing to
Rolling Stone, Playboy
, and
The Los Angeles Times
.