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The Perks of Being a Wallflower

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Titel: The Perks of Being a Wallflower
Autoren: Stephen Chbosky
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England. I told her I wanted to give her something that makes her feel like she’s at home even after she goes away. My sister actually kissed my cheek for that.
    But the best part of the party happened when my mother came to me and said I had a phone call. I went to the phone.
    “Hello?”
    “Charlie?”
    “Sam!”
    “When are you coming over?” she asked.
    “Now!” I said.
    Then, my father, who was drinking a whiskey sour, growled, “You’re not going anywhere until your relatives leave. You hear me?”
    “Uh, Sam … I have to wait for my relatives to leave,” I said.
    “Okay … we’ll be here until seven. Then, we’ll call you from wherever we are.” Sam really sounded happy.
    “Okay, Sam. Congratulations!”
    “Thanks, Charlie. Bye.”
    “Bye.”
    I hung up the phone.
    I swear to you, I thought my relatives would never leave. Every story they told. Every pig in a blanket they ate. Every photograph they looked at, and every time I heard “when you were this high” with the appropriate gesture. It was like the clock stopped. It’s not that I minded the stories because I didn’t. And the pigs in blankets were quite good. But I wanted to see Sam.
    At about 9:30, everyone was stuffed and sober. At 9:45, the hugs were over. At 9:50, the driveway was clear. My father gave me twenty dollars and the keys to his car, saying, “Thanks for sticking around. It meant a lot to me and the family.” He was tipsy, but meant it just the same. Sam had told me they were going to a dance club downtown. So, I loaded everyone’s gifts in my trunk, climbed in the car, and drove away.
    There’s something about that tunnel that leads to downtown. It’s glorious at night. Just glorious. You start on one side of the mountain, and it’s dark, and the radio is loud. As you enter the tunnel, the wind gets sucked away, and you squint from the lights overhead. When you adjust to the lights, you can see the other side in the distance just as the sound of the radio fades to nothing because the waves just can’t reach. Then, you’re in the middle of the tunnel, and everything becomes a calm dream. As you see the opening get closer, you just can’t get there fast enough. And finally, just when you think you’ll never get there, you see the opening right in front of you. And the radio comes back even louder than you remember it. And the wind is waiting. And you fly out of the tunnel onto the bridge. And there it is. The city. A million lights and buildings and everything seems as exciting as the first time you saw it. It really is a grand entrance.
    After about half an hour looking around the dance club, I finally saw Mary Elizabeth with Peter. They were both drinking scotch and sodas, which Peter bought since he is older and had his hand stamped. I congratulated Mary Elizabeth and asked where everybody was. She told me that Alice was getting high in the ladies’ room and Sam and Patrick were on the floor dancing. She said to just have a seat until they come back because she didn’t know where they were specifically. So, I sat down and listened to Peter argue with Mary Elizabeth about the Democratic candidates. Again, the clock seemed to stop. I wanted to see Sam that badly.
    After about three songs, Sam and Patrick came back completely coated in sweat.
    “Charlie!”
    I stood up, and we all hugged like we hadn’t seen each other in months. Considering everything that happened, I guess that makes sense. After we let go, Patrick lay on top of Peter and Mary Elizabeth like they were a sofa. Then, he took Mary Elizabeth’s drink out of her hand and drank it. “Hey, asshole” was her response. I think he was drunk, even though he hasn’t been drinking lately, but Patrick does that stuff sober, so it’s hard to tell.
    That’s when Sam grabbed my hand. “I love this song!”
    She led me to the dance floor. And she started dancing. And I started dancing. It was a fast song, so I wasn’t very good, but she didn’t seem to mind. We were just dancing, and that was enough. The song ended, and then a slow one came on. She looked at me. I looked at her. Then, she took my hands and pulled me in to dance slow. I don’t know how to dance slow very well either, but I do know how to sway.
    Her whisper smelled like cranberry juice and vodka.
    “I looked for you in the parking lot today.”
    I hoped mine still smelled like toothpaste.
    “I was looking for you, too.”
    Then, we were quiet for the rest of the song. She
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