The Perks of Being a Wallflower

"Good night."

That's when I shut the door and left her to sleep.

I didn't feel like reading that night, so I went downstairs and watched a half-hour-long commercial that advertised an exercise machine. They kept flashing a 1-800 number, so I called it. The woman who picked up the other end of the phone was named Michelle. And I told Michelle that I was a kid and did not need an exercise machine, but I hoped she was having a good night.

That's when Michelle hung up on me. And I didn't mind a bit.

Love always,

Charlie

***

March 7, 1992

Dear friend,

Girls are weird, and I don't mean that offensively. I just can't put it any other way.

I have now gone on another date with Mary Elizabeth. In a lot of ways, it was similar to the dance except that we got to wear more comfortable clothes. She was the one who asked me out again, and I suppose that's okay, but I think I'm going to start doing the asking from time to time because I can't always hope to get asked. Also, if I do the asking, then I'll be sure to go out with the girl of my choice if she says yes. It's just so complicated.

The good news is that I got to be the one who drove this time. I asked my father if I could borrow his car. It happened at the dinner table.

"What for?" My dad gets protective of his car.

"Charlie's got a girlfr," my sister said.

"She's not my girlfr," I said.

"Who is this girl?" my father asked.

"What's going on?" my mother asked from the kitchen.

"Charlie wants to borrow the car," my dad replied.

"What for?" my mother asked.

"That's what I'm trying to find out!" my father said with a raised voice.

"No need to get snippy," my mother said.

"Sorry," my father said without meaning it. Then, he turned back to me.

"So, tell me about this girl."

So, I told him a little about Mary Elizabeth, leaving out the part about the tattoo and belly button ring. He kind of smiled for a little while, trying to see if I was already guilty of something. Then, he said yes. I could borrow his car. When my mother came in with coffee, my father told her the whole story while I ate dessert.

That night, as I was finishing my book, my father came in and sat on the edge of my bed. He lit a cigarette and started telling me about sex. He gave me this talk a few years before, but it was more biological then. Now, he was saying things like…

"I know I'm your old man, but…"

"you can't be too careful these days," and

"wear protection," and

"if she says no, then you have to assume she means it…"

"because if you force her to do something she doesn't want to do, then you're in big trouble, mister…"

"and even if she says no, and really means yes, then quite frankly she's playing games and isn't worth the price of dinner."

"if you need to talk to somebody, you can come to me, but if you don't want to do that for some reason, talk to your brother," and finally

"I'm glad we had this talk."

Then, my father ruffled my hair, smiled, and left the room. I guess I should tell you that my father isn't like on television. Things like sex don't embarrass him. And he is actually very smart about them.

I think he was especially happy because I used to kiss this boy in the neighborhood a lot when I was very little, and even though the psychiatrist said it was very natural for little boys and girls to explore things like that, I think my father was afraid anyway. I guess that's natural, but I'm not sure why.

Anyway, Mary Elizabeth and I went to see a movie downtown. It was what they call an "art" movie. Mary Elizabeth said it won an award at some big film festival in Europe, and she thought that was impressive. As we waited for the movie to start, she said what a shame it was that so many people would go to see a stupid Hollywood movie, but there were only a few people in this theater. Then, she talked about how she couldn't wait to get out of here and go to college where people appreciate things like that.

Then the movie started. It was in a foreign language and had subtitles, which was fun because I had never read a movie before. The movie itself was very interesting, but I didn't think it was very good because I didn't really feel different when it was over.

But Mary Elizabeth felt different. She kept saying it was an "articulate" film. So "articulate." And I guess it was. The thing is, I didn't know what it said even if it said it very well.

Later, I drove us to this underground record store, and Mary Elizabeth gave me a tour. She loves this record store. She said it was the one place where she felt like herself. She said that before coffee shops were popular, there was nowhere for kids like her to go, except the Big Boy, and that was old until this year.

She showed me the movie section and told me about all these cult filmmakers and people from France. Then, she took me down to the import section and told me about "real" alternative music. Then, she took me to the folk section and told me about girl bands like the Slits.