The Perks of Being a Wallflower

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."

My brother said, "When did you talk to him?"

I said, "A couple weeks ago."

And then I froze because I suddenly remembered the other part. The fact that I met the man in the park at night. And the fact that I gave him one of my cigarettes. And the fact that he was trying to pick me up. I just sat there, hoping it would go away. But it didn't.

"Where did you meet him, honey?" my mom asked.

The room turned pins and needles quiet. And I did my best impersonation of myself when I can't remember something. And here's what's going on inside my head.

Okay… he came to school to have a talk with the class… no… my sister would know it was a lie… I met him at the Big Boy… he was with his family… no… my dad would scold me for bothering the "poor man"… he said it on a news cast… but I said I talked to him… wait…

"In the park. I was there with Patrick," I said.

My dad said, "Was he there with his family? Did you bother the poor man?"

"No. He was alone."

That was enough for my dad and everybody else, and I didn't even have to lie. Luckily, the attention was turned off me when my mother said what she likes to say when we're all together celebrating something.

"Who's in the mood for ice cream?"

Everyone was except for my sister. I think she was worried about the "freshman fifteen."

The next morning started early. I still hadn't heard from Patrick or Sam or anybody, but I knew I would see them at graduation, so I tried not to worry too much. All my relatives, including my dad's family from Ohio, came to the house around ten A.M. The two families really don't like each other, except for all us younger cousins because we don't know any better.

We had this big brunch with champagne, and just like last year for my brother's graduation, my mom gave her dad (my grandfather) sparkling apple juice instead of champagne because she didn't want him to get drunk and make a scene. And he said the same thing he said last year.

"This is good champagne."

I don't think he knew the difference because he's a beer drinker. Sometimes, whiskey.

Around twelve-thirty, brunch was over. All the cousins drove all the cars because the adults were still a little too drunk to drive to the graduation. Except for my dad, because he was too busy videotaping everyone with a camera he rented from the video store.

"Why buy a camera when you only need it three times a year?"

So, my sister, brother, dad, mom, and I each had to go in a different car to make sure nobody got lost. I went with all my Ohio cousins, who promptly pulled out a "joint" and passed it around. I didn't smoke any of it because I wasn't in the mood, and they said what they always say.

"Charlie, you're such a pussy."

So, all the cars pulled into the parking lot, and we all got out. And my sister yelled at my cousin Mike for rolling down the window while he was driving and messing up her hair.

"I was smoking a cigarette," was his reply.

"Couldn't you wait ten minutes?" was my sister's.

"But it was a great song," was his final word.

So, as my dad was getting the video camera out of the trunk, and my brother was talking to some of the graduating girls who were a year older and "looking good," my sister went for my mom to get my mom's purse. The great thing about my mom's purse is that no matter what you need at any given moment, she has it. When I was little, I used to call it the "first-aid kit" because that's all we needed back then. I still can't figure out how she does it.

After primping, my sister followed the trail of graduation caps to the field, and we all found our way to the bleachers. I sat in between my mom and brother since my dad was off getting a better camera angle. And my mom kept shushing my grandfather, who kept talking about how many black people were in the school.

When she couldn't stop him, she mentioned my story about the TV news sports man talking about my brother. This made my grandfather call my brother over to talk about it. This was smart on my mom's part because my brother is the only person who can get my grandfather to stop making a scene because he's really direct about it. After the story, this is what happened…

"Jesus. Look at these bleachers. How many colored people-" My brother cut him off.