The Perks of Being a Wallflower (20 page)

After the party, it was about seven o'clock in the morning and everyone went to the Big Boy for pancakes or bacon.

I asked Patrick how he liked the after-prom party, and he said that it was a lot of fun. He said that Craig had rented a hotel suite for all of them, but only Craig and Sam went. Actually, Sam wanted to go to the after-prom party the school organized, too, but Craig got really angry because he already paid for the hotel suite. That's not why they broke up.

It happened yesterday at Craig's house after
Rocky Horror.
Like I said, Mary Elizabeth's boyfriend, Peter, is good friends with Craig, and he kind of stepped into the middle of things. I guess he really likes Mary Elizabeth a lot and has grown to like Sam quite a bit because he's the one who brought it up.

Nobody even suspected.

Basically, Craig had been cheating on Sam ever since they started going out. And when I say cheat, I don't mean he got drunk once and fooled around with one girl and felt bad about it. There were several girls. Several times. Drunk and sober. And I guess he never felt bad.

The reason Peter didn't say anything at first was the fact that he didn't know anybody. And he didn't know Sam. He just thought she was this dumb high school girl because that's what Craig always told him.

Anyway, after he got to know Sam, Peter kept telling Craig that Craig had to tell her the truth because she wasn't just some dumb high school girl. Craig kept promising he would, but he never did it.

There was always some excuse. Craig called them "reasons."

"I don't want to ruin the prom for her."

"I don't want to ruin graduation for her."

"I don't want to ruin the show for her."

Then, finally, Craig said there was no point telling her anything at all. She was about to go away to college anyway. She would find a new guy. He was always "safe" about other girls. There was nothing to worry about in that way. And why not just let Sam remember the whole experience in a good way?

Because he really liked Sam and didn't want to hurt her feelings.

Peter went along with this logic even though he thought it was wrong. At least that's what he said. But then after the show yesterday, Craig told him that he fooled around with yet another girl the afternoon of the prom. That's when Peter told Craig that if Craig didn't say something to Sam, he would. Well, Craig didn't say anything, and Peter still didn't think it was his business, but then he overheard Sam at the party.

She was talking to Mary Elizabeth about how Craig might be "the one" and how she was trying to think of ways to keep it going long-.tance while she was at school. Letters. Phone calls. Vacations. And breaks. That was it for Peter.

He went up to Craig and said, "You tell her something now, or I tell her everything."

So, Craig pulled Sam into his bedroom. They were in there for a while. Then, Sam walked from the bedroom straight out the front door, silently sobbing. Craig didn't run after her. That was probably the worst part. Not that he should have tried to get back together with her, but I think he should have run after her anyway.

All I know is that Sam was devastated. Mary Elizabeth and Alice went after her to make sure she was okay. I would have gone, too, but Patrick grabbed my arm to stay. He wanted to know what was going on, I guess, or maybe he figured Sam would be better off with female company.

I'm glad that we stayed, though, because I think our presence prevented a pretty violent fight between Craig and Peter. Because we were there, all they really did was scream at each other. That's where I heard most of the details I'm writing to you about.

Craig would say, "Fuck you, Peter! Fuck you!"

And Peter would say, "Don't blame me that you fucked around on her since the beginning! The afternoon of her prom!? You're just a bastard! You hear me?! A fucking bastard!"

Things like that.

When it looked like things were going to get violent, Patrick stepped between the two and, with my help, got Peter out of the apartment. When we got outside, the girls were gone. So, Patrick and I got into Patrick's car and drove Peter home. He was still seething, so he "vented" about Craig. That's where I heard the rest of the details I'm writing to you about. Finally, we dropped Peter off, and he made us promise to make sure Mary Elizabeth didn't think he was cheating on her because he wasn't. He just didn't want to be found "guilty by association" with that "prick."

We promised, and he went into his apartment building.

Patrick and I weren't sure how much Craig actually told Sam. We both hoped he gave her a "soft"

version of the truth. Enough to make her stay away. But not enough to make her doubt everything about everything. Maybe it's better to know the whole truth. I honestly don't know.

So, we just made a pact that we wouldn't tell her unless we found out that Craig made it sound like

"nothing big," and Sam was ready to forgive him. I hope it doesn't come to that. I hope Craig told her enough to make her stay away.

We drove around to all the places where we thought we might find the girls, but we couldn't find them. Patrick figured they were probably just driving around, trying to let Sam "cool off a bit."

So, Patrick dropped me at home. He said he'd call me tomorrow when he heard anything.

I remember going to sleep last night, and I realized something. Something that I think is important. I realized that throughout the course of the evening, I wasn't happy about Craig and Sam breaking up. Not at all.

I never once thought that it would mean Sam might start liking me. All I cared about was the fact that Sam got really hurt. And I guess I realized at that moment that I really did love her. Because there was nothing to gain, and that didn't matter.

It was hard walking up the steps to Bill's town house that afternoon because I didn't receive a phone call all morning from Patrick. And I was so worried about Sam. I called on the phone, but nobody was there.

Bill looks different without a suit. He was wearing his old graduate school T-shirt. Which was Brown.

The school. Not the color. His girlfr was wearing sandals and a nice flowered dress. She even had hair under her arms. No kidding! They looked very happy together. And I was glad for Bill.

Their house didn't have a lot of furniture in it, but it was very comfortable. They had a lot of books, which I spent about a half an hour asking them about. There was also a picture of Bill and his girlfr when they were at Brown together in graduate school. Bill had very long hair then.

Bill's girlfr made lunch while Bill made the salad. I just sat in the kitchen, drinking a ginger ale, and watching them. The lunch was a spaghetti dish of some sort because Bill's girlfr doesn't eat meat. Bill doesn't eat meat either now. The salad did have imitation bacon bits, though, because bacon is the only thing they both miss.

They had a really nice collection of jazz records, and they kept playing them all through lunch. After a while, they broke open a bottle of white wine and gave me another ginger ale. Then, we started talking.

Bill asked me about
The Fountainhead,
and I told him, making sure that I was a filter.

Then, he asked me about how I liked my first year of high school, and I told him, making sure that I included all the stories in which I "participated."

Then, he asked me about girls, and I told him how I really loved Sam, and how I wondered what the lady who wrote
The Fountainhead
would say about how I came to realize that I loved her.

After I finished, Bill got very quiet. He cleared his throat.

"Charlie ... I want to thank you."

"Why?" I said.

"Because it has been a wonderful experience teaching you."

"Oh ... I'm glad." I didn't know what else to say.

Then, Bill took this really long pause, and his voice sounded like my dad when he wants to have a big talk.

"Charlie," he said. "Do you know why I gave you all that extra work?"

I shook my head no. That look on his face. It made me quiet.

"Charlie, do you know how smart you are?"

I just shook my head no again. He was talking for real. It was strange.

"Charlie, you're one of the most gifted people I've ever known. And I don't mean in terms of my other students. I mean in terms of anyone I've ever met. That's why I gave you the extra work. I was wondering if you were aware of that?"

"I guess so. I don't know." I felt really strange. I didn't know where this was coming from. I just wrote some essays.

"Charlie. Please don't take this the wrong way. I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. I just want you to know that you're very special ... and the only reason I'm telling you is that I don't know if anyone else ever has."

I looked up at him. And then I didn't feel strange. I felt like I wanted to cry. He was being so nice to me, and the way his girlfr looked, I knew that this meant a lot to him. And I didn't know why it did.

"So, when the school year ends, and I'm not your teacher anymore, I want you to know that if you ever need anything, or want to know about more books, or want to show me anything you write, or anything, you can always come to me as a friend. I do consider you a friend, Charlie."

I started crying a little bit. I actually think his girlfr was, too. But Bill wasn't. He looked very solid. I just remember wanting to hug him. But I've never done that before, and I guess Patrick and girls and family don't count. I didn't say anything for a while because I didn't know what to say.

So, finally I just said, "You're the best teacher I ever had."

And he said, "Thank you."

And that was that. Bill didn't try to make sure that I would see him next year if I needed anything. He didn't ask me why I was crying. He just let me hear what he had to say in my own way and let things be.

That was probably the best part.

After a few minutes, it was time for me to leave. I don't know who decides these things. It just happens.

So, we went to the door, and Bill's girlfr hugged me good-bye, which was very nice considering I didn't know her except for today. Then, Bill extended his hand, and I took it. And we shook hands. And I even sneaked in a quick hug before I said "good-bye."

When I was driving home, I just thought about the word "special." And I thought the last person who said that about me was my aunt Helen. I was very grateful to have heard it again. Because I guess we all forget sometimes. And I think everyone is special in their own way. I really do.

My brother gets home tonight. And everyone's graduation is tomorrow. Patrick still hasn't called. I called him, but no one was home again. So, I decided to go out and buy everyone their graduation presents. I really haven't had time to do that until now.

Love always,

Charlie

June 16, 1992 Dear friend,

I just rode home on the bus. It was the last day of school for me today. And it was raining. When I do ride the bus, I usually sit toward the middle because I've heard sitting in the front is for nerds and sitting in the back is for squids, and the whole thing makes me nervous. I don't know what they call "squids" in other schools.

Anyway, today I decided to sit in the front with my legs over the whole seat. Kind of like I was lying down with my back to the window. I did this so I could look back at the other kids on the bus. I'm glad school buses don't have seat belts, or else I wouldn't have been able to do it.

The one thing I noticed was how different everyone looked. When we were all little, we used to sing songs on the bus ride home from the last day of school. The favorite song was a Pink Floyd song, I found out later, called
Another Brick in the Wall, Part II.
But there was this other song we loved even more because it ended with a swear. It went like this ...

No more pencils ar no more books ar no more teachers' dirty looks ar when the teacher rings
the bell ar drop your books and run like hell.

When we finished, we looked at the bus driver for a tense second. Then, we all laughed because we knew we could get in trouble for swearing, but the strength of our numbers would prevent any retribution.

We were too young to know that the bus driver didn't care about our song. That all he wanted to do was go home after work. And maybe sleep off the drinks he had at lunch. Back then, it didn't matter. The nerds and the squids were one.

My brother came home Saturday night. And he looked even more different than the kids on the school bus looked compared to the beginning of the year. He had a beard! I was so happy! He also smiled different and was more "courteous." We all sat down to dinner, and everyone asked him questions about college. Dad asked about football. Mom asked about classes. I asked for all the fun stories. My sister asked nervous questions about what college is "really" like and would she put on the "freshman fifteen"? I don't know what this is, but I'm guessing it means you get fatter.

I was expecting my brother to just talk and talk about himself for a long time. He would do that whenever there was a big game in high school or the prom or something. But he seemed a lot more interested in what we were all doing, especially my sister with her graduation.

So, while they were talking, I suddenly remembered the TV news sports man and what he said about my brother. I got so excited. And I told my whole family. And this is what happened as a result.

My dad said, "Hey! How about that?!"

My brother said, "Really!?"

I said, "Yeah. I talked to him."

My brother said, "Did he say something good?"

My father said, "Any press is good press." I don't know where my father learns these things.

My brother kept going. "What did he say?"

I said, "Well, I think he said that college sports puts a lot of pressure on the students who do them."

My brother kept nodding. "But he said that it built character. And he said that Penn State was looking really good with their recruitment. And he mentioned you."

My dad said, "Hey! How about that?"

My brother said, "Really?"

I said, "Yeah. I talked to him."