Wallflower
“And you’re listening to that song, and that drive with the people who you love most in this world. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.”
- Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
I have always loved that one scene in The Perks of Being a Wallflower.
You know, the one with the back of the car, Sam and “Heroes” by David Bowie. Or, if you remember, the one with the back of the car, Charlie and “Heroes” by David Bowie. Actually, I like the second one better, because you know at this point in the movie how much the character has gone through. You know how much he has grown, and that the freedom he feels is hard fought. It’s that one that makes me cry, that gives me hope, that makes me a little sad.
The first time I read The Perks of Being a Wallflower, I was struck by how much I related to the characters. They all hate school, choosing to indulge in movies like Rocky Horror Picture Show, books like The Catcher in the Rye, and artists like Billie Holiday instead of troubling themselves with typical high school activities. When I saw the movie, I especially loved the dance to “Come on Eileen” done by Sam and Patrick. I had loved that song for years, and here were two people who loved it too.
“Did you base your personality off of that movie?” one of my friends asked, after he saw it for the first time.
I did not. I was just weird, artsy, queer, and did not fit in with my classmates. I was just a depressed teenager, out of their element and had no idea why.
It was, needless to say, a relief to graduate.
My three best friends Finn, Macy and Hunter and I went to my other best friend Ally’s house after the ceremony. Out of the four of us, only Ally and I were celebrating graduation. Finn and Hunter would graduate next year, and Macy had graduated the year before. Still, we were in high spirits, perhaps from the anticipation of the summer ahead, perhaps from each other’s company.
As we went on a walk in the muggy Texas evening, we ran in and out of the woods, wild and giddy and unaffected by the heat. Macy and I made inside jokes dating back from when we first met, at age 5. Ally and Hunter discussed the new season of some cartoon show I hadn’t seen. Finn found ways to tease all each and every one of us, rejoicing when we took the bait. When we got back, I tried a beer and hated it. I kissed Macy, then Finn and ate candy from Ally’s graduation party. I probably was extremely hyper, definitely excited, and not even the least bit sad.
Macy had driven me to Ally’s, so after we walked back to her car, I asked her if she could open her sunroof. She knew what I meant. She always did.
I stood, with my arms outstretched, face to the wind, out of the sunroof. The fear, the loneliness, the horrible anxiety, I would have a chance for things to be different. My school, the gossip, the way I felt so stupid all the time, I could leave behind me. I was alive, I had made it, I would never have to do high school again.
I was infinite.
I don’t remember what Macy was playing out of her car radio, I think it was Cocteau Twins, but I don’t remember which song. It sounded beautiful, whatever it was.
It sounded like the most beautiful song in the world.