The Fast Times

Pete and Nancy walked around downtown Chicago after the movie. Nancy loved watching The Hills Have Eyes, but Pete was having trouble watching. He had buried his face into Nancy's arm, holding in yelps. She found it quite endearing and adorable; Pete was afraid she would label him a pansy and leave him at the theater. He was wrong about that; in fact, afterward, Nancy had invited him to see another movie on Sunday.

Pete was in shock, he swore he turned her off. Nancy was sweet to him; he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or if she was playing some joke on him. As they walked towards the car park, it didn't matter much to him, he was happy.

In his car, Pete fiddled with radio before driving out. The Smiths began to play, Nancy smiled, "Who is this? I like this."

"It's the Smiths," Pete answered, "never heard of them?"

"No," she shook her head, "are they new?"

"Nah, they were a band in the 80s and then broke up," he told her.

"They're good. I don't listen to much rock music. I like the Smashing Pumpkins, but that's it."

Pete shook his head, "It's a good thing you're hanging out with me, I can expose you to some good music."

Nancy smiled, laughing softly, "Oh yeah? Great, then."

"Tomorrow, after we see a movie, you can come over or we can hang out at yours and I'll bring some tapes and CDs over."

"I'd rather go to yours, if you don't mind. My Gram's poker playing friends are coming over and they always like to tease me and give me love advice. It's annoying."

Pete chuckled, "Alright, cool. I'll pick you up then?"

"Yep."

"Your friends won't be upset, will they?" He added, just to hear any information on the "cool kids" who despised him and his friends so much.

Nancy shrugged, "No. They've all got to go to church anyway."

Then Pete thought about school in Monday. How would Nancy treat him once school started? He hated to wonder and he felt too embarrassed to ask, so he didn't. He kept his mouth closed and drove Nancy home. They didn't talk much, they enjoyed whatever was playing in Pete's tape deck.


Pete arrived home to hear his mother and father arguing. This was usual in the Wentz household. His parents loved to hate each other; they hated being married; after nearly 20 years, what would be the point to get divorced?

That was their words.

Pete hated to hear the yells, both of the adults were loud and equally vengeful against one another. He wished they would just divorce and end it all, it would save he and his siblings headaches.

He went up to his room, shut his bedroom door and turned his stereo on, blaring Guns and Roses as loud as his parents voices went, drowning them out completely. He fell back onto his bed, stared up at the misfits poster on the ceiling and let the music roll over his body like a sonic wave. The bass thumped his walls, his bed, desk, as far as it could go. He was lost within himself until his father banged in his door; "Turn that crap down, Pete!" His father yelled.

Pete sat up, went to his stereo and turned the volume down significantly. He heard his father stomp away from the door and down the stairs. The yelling didn't continue, but he knew his parents were probably spewing anger amongst themselves in separate rooms.

Pete went to his desk and began to write, pulling out his ratty old notebook and pencil. He began to doodle and write words that made no sense to anyone but himself. He wrote words that made him think of one person; Nancy.

The thought of her caused a smile fill his face. No matter the atmosphere around him, thinking of her put him in a better mood. He closed his eyes and began to doodle her face in the margin.


Nights consumed Nancy's loneliness. She thought about her parents and her friends. They weren't her friends anymore, she didn't know exactly who was. They didn't understand her anymore.

Nancy didn't exactly understand herself either. She was 16, she missed her family and she hated the night. The night time, darkness, brightness of the moon and aligning stars made the thoughts of her parents' death build. She asked the skies unanswerable questions and begged and prayed for a resolution from the moon. She didn't want to think about her mother and father anymore.

Her parents died a year ago and it was still fresh in her memory. She had been at Rosemary's house for a sleepover when a police officer arrived at the doorstep. Rosemary's mother had gasped loudly; the girls had been at the stairs, watching the officer speak in hushed tones. The girls wondered what it was; then Miriam Townsend looked back, locking her dark brown eyes with Nancy's glimmering green ones, and called up to her. That night, she watched the moon shine in the foggy sky as the officer drove her to the police station, where Alma were waiting to take her home.

That day was always in the back of her head. The smell of a cool spring, the smell of hot coffee in the station and Alma's butterscotch candy all brought it back. She hated spring, summer too; it was a terrible time to be without them, Nancy thought, but she has no choice to live through it.

Rolling over in bed, she gripped her pillow, rubbing her face against it, ridding the tears from her eyes and cheeks. She sniffed and began to breathe out of her mouth. It was a sudden thought that made her forget about that night, it was new memories she was creating with Pete.

She never knew a person like him could exist. A boy who didn't throw lines to get into her pants. Someone who didn't gawk at her and ask her out; she was the one to make the effort and she liked that. She didn't even know if Pete knew who she is before she met him at the dance. If he hadn't she didn't care, if he did, she still didn't care, she was having a good time with him.

Then, her friends peeked her thoughts. She was tired of pretending with them, she just wanted to be herself. She couldn't stand the stupid jock jokes and the constant talk of boy bands and actors. Nancy wanted more, a relationship with depth and Pete was it. This made her smile and she couldn't wait to see him again.


The following morning, Pete woke up with a pounding headache. His father was already up, at 8AM, screaming about how lazy Pete was. The elder Wentz yelled at his wife, who yelled back that he should deal with Pete himself if it bothered him so much..

Pete decided to cut the argument short; he got up, pulled a dirty shirt on and tugged up his pajama pants and shook his unruly hair. He exited his room, walking down the stairs, each step shook his brain around his skull. By the time he was in the kitchen, where his father was cursing, his headache made it hard to focus.

"Look at you!" His father growled, "You look like a bum! I want you to cut that shit off your head!"

Pete had heard this before, back when his dreads were barely there. He didn't argue, he just waited for his father to stop shouting. His ears throbbed and burned, his head pounded like he had been hit with a baseball bat.

"...You hear me, Pete?!"

"Yes," Pete murmured, "yes."

"What did I just say?"

"Mow the lawn, cut my hair, take out the trash," Pete recited dully, "I got it, dad."

Pete's father grunted and shoved his way past Pete to head out. Every Sunday his father went out and never told anyone where. Everyone suspected he was having an affair, but no one seemed to care.

His mother sighed, "I'm sorry about--"

"I'm gonna go..." Pete pointed to the ceiling, "uh, shower, then mow and take out the trash. I have a date at 1."

His mom smiled, "With that girl?"

"Yeah," Pete's headache seemed to hurt less, "her name is Nancy--Cy. Nancy Moore, but we call her Cy."

"Can I meet her?"

Pete smiled, "Yeah, I'm bringing her over after the movie."

Dale patted her don't shoulder, "It's nice to see you with a girl, Pete."

Pete nodded, "It feels nice."