I gave Sam To Kill a Mockingbird, The Catcher in the Rye, The Great Gatsby, Hamlet, Walden, and The Fountainhead.
Under the books was a card that I wrote using the typewriter Sam bought me. The cards said that these were my copies of all my favorite books, and I wanted Sam and Patrick to have them because they were my two favorite people in the whole world.
When they both looked up from reading, they were quiet. Nobody smiled or cried or did anything. We were just open, looking at each other. They knew I meant the cards I wrote. And I knew it meant a lot to them.
“What do the cards say?” Mary Elizabeth asked.
“Do you mind, Charlie?” Patrick asked.
I shook my head no, and they each read their cards while I went to fill up my coffee cup with red wine.
When I came back, they all looked at me, and I said, “I’m going to miss you all very much. I hope you have a great time at college.” And then I started crying because it suddenly hit me that they were all leaving. I think Peter thinks I’m a little strange. So, Sam stood up and took me into the kitchen, telling me on the way there that it was “okay.” When we got to the kitchen, I was a little more calm.
Sam said, “You know I’m leaving in a week, Charlie?”
“Yeah. I know.”
“Don’t start crying again.”
“Okay.”
“I want you to listen.”
“Okay.”
“I’m really scared to be alone at college.”
“You are?” I asked. I never really thought of that before.
“Just like you’re really scared to be alone here.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
“So, I’ll make you a deal. When things get to be too much at college, I’ll call you, and when things get to be too much here, you call me.”
“Could we write letters back and forth?”
“Of course,” she said.
Then, I started crying again. I really am a roller-coaster sometimes. But Sam was patient.
“Charlie, I’m going to be back at the end of the summer, but before we think about that, let’s just enjoy this last week together. All of us. Okay?”
I nodded and calmed down.
We spent the rest of the night just drinking and listening to music like we always did, but this time it was at Peter’s, and it was better than Craig’s, actually, because Peter has a better music collection. It was about one o’clock in the morning when it suddenly occurred to me.
“Oh my God!” I said.
“What’s wrong, Charlie?”
“Tomorrow’s a school day!”
I don’t think I could have made them laugh harder.
Peter took me into the kitchen to make coffee, so I could sober up to drive home. I had about eight cups in a row and was ready to drive in about twenty minutes. The problem was, by the time I got home, I was so awake from the coffee, I couldn’t fall asleep. By the time I got to school, I felt like dying. Luckily, all the finals were over, and all we did all day was watch film strips. I don’t think I ever slept better. I was glad, too, because school really is lonely without them.
Today was different because I didn’t sleep, and I didn’t get to see Sam or Patrick last night because they were having a special dinner out with their parents. And my brother was on a date with one of the girls who was “looking good” at graduation. My sister was busy with her boyfriend. And my mom and dad were still tired from the graduation party.
Today, pretty much every teacher just let the kids sit around and talk after we handed in our textbooks. I honestly didn’t know anybody, except maybe for Susan, but after that time in the hallway, she’s avoided me more than ever. So, I didn’t really talk. The only good class was Bill’s because I got to talk to Bill. It was hard saying good-bye to him after class was over, but he said that it wasn’t good-bye. I could call him anytime over the summer if I wanted to talk or borrow books, and that made me feel a little better.
This one kid with crooked teeth named Leonard called me a “teacher’s pet” in the hallway after Bill’s class, but I didn’t mind because I think he missed the point somewhere.
I ate lunch outside on a bench where we all used to smoke. After I ate my Ho-Ho, I lit up a cigarette, and I was kind of hoping someone would ask me for one, but no one did.
When the last class was over, everyone was cheering and making plans with each other for the summer. And everyone was clearing out their lockers by throwing their old papers and notes and books on the hallway floor. When I got to my locker, I saw this skinny kid who had the locker next to me all year. I had never really talked to him before.
I cleared my throat and said, “Hey. My name is Charlie.”
All he said was, “I know.”
Then, he closed his locker door and walked away.
So, I just opened my locker, put all my old papers and things in my backpack, and walked over the debris of books and papers and notes in the hallway to the parking lot outside. Then, I got on the bus. Then, I wrote this letter to you.
I’m actually really glad that the school year is over. I want to spend a lot of time with everyone before they leave. Especially Sam.
By the way, I ended up getting straight A’s this whole year. My mother was very proud and put my report card on the refrigerator.
Love always,
Charlie
June 22, 1992
Dear friend,
The night before Sam was going to leave made the whole week a blur. Sam was frantic because not only did she need to spend time with us, but she had to get ready to go. Buying things. Packing things. Things like that.
Every night, we would all get together after Sam had just said good-bye to some uncle or had another lunch with her mom or had done more shopping for school things. She was scared, and it wasn’t until she had a sip of whatever we were drinking or a hit off of whatever we were smoking that she would calm down and be the same Sam.
The one thing that really helped Sam through her week was her lunch with Craig. She said she wanted to see him to have some kind of “closure,” and I guess she was lucky enough to get it because Craig was nice enough to tell her that she was right to break up with him. And that she was a special person. And that he was sorry and wished her well. It’s strange the times people choose to be generous.
The best part was that Sam said she didn’t ask him about the girls he might be dating even though she wanted to know. She wasn’t bitter. She was sad, though. But it was a hopeful kind of sad. The kind of sad that just takes time.
On the night before she left, we were all there at Sam and Patrick’s house. Bob, Alice, Mary Elizabeth (without Peter), and I. We just sat on the rug in the “games” room, remembering things.
Remember the show where Patrick did this… or remember when Bob did this… or Charlie… or Mary Elizabeth… or Alice… or Sam…
The inside jokes weren’t jokes anymore. They had become stories. Nobody brought up the bad names or the bad times. And nobody felt sad as long as we could postpone tomorrow with more nostalgia.
After a while, Mary Elizabeth and Bob and Alice left, saying they would be back in the morning to see Sam off. So, it was just me, Patrick, and Sam. Just sitting there. Not saying much. Until we started our own remember when.
Remember when Charlie first came to us at the football game… and remember when Charlie let the air out of Dave’s tires at the homecoming dance… and remember the poem… and the mix tape… and Punk Rocky in color… and remember when we all felt infinite…
After I said that, we all got quiet and sad. In the silence, I remembered this one time that I never told anybody about. The time we were walking. Just the three of us. And I was in the middle. I don’t remember where we were walking to or where we were walking from. I don’t even remember the season. I just remember walking between them and feeling for the first time that I belonged somewhere.