We Were 17 Again

By Brian M. Smith

There are numerous books, songs, shows and movies that deal with going back to the past, whether it''s a time machine, dream, boy or girlfriend story, or class reunion. Many of them are enjoyable because the reader gets to visit the past. Life always seemed easier in our childhood days and many long to return to those days. In "We Were 17 Again", not only do you get the chance to return to 17 years old again, you get to return to high school with your entire school. All students who were in grades 9 through 12 will return to Chelsingham High School to complete a summer course together. They get to meet old friends, dates, and learn about everyone''s new lives. There are some interesting twists and life learning stories. In the end, they get a chance to correct or strengthen their lives. Pack your books, feather back your hair, put on your classic rock and return to 1979-80 with us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Sep 10, 2005
• ISBN: 9781467034739

Brian M. Smith

Brian Smith was born the ninth of eleven children in Cheltenham, PA, a suburb of Philadelphia.  He joined the United States Marine Corps after graduating from high school.  He obtained his Bachelor''''s degree and always enjoyed writing stories.  Smith became a California Highway Patrolman and promoted to Captain.  He is married to a beautiful wife, has four boys, twin (identical) girls, two step sons and a step daughter.  They all make him proud.  

Book preview

© 2005 Brian M. Smith. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 08/30/05

ISBN: 1-4208-6962-0 (sc)

ISBN: 9781467034739 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

Bloomington, Indiana

Contents

Forward

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Forward

As you read books, watch movies and television shows, and listen to songs, you find that many people enjoy themes that return you to the past, such as American Graffiti, Peggy Sue Got Married, Happy Days, Never Been Kissed, Back to School, etc. They allow us to reminisce. However, how many stories or themes allow the entire school to go back?

In We Were 17 Again, you can go back and relive your past as you read this story. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Although there may be similarities to the past, remember this is a fictional story and any resemblance to real people is only in your imagination.

Pack up your books and memories and return to 17 with us. This time, you can return anytime you want.

Chapter One

Goodnight, don’t wake me in the morning, I’m not going to school, I said as I kissed my parents goodnight. I knew my mother hated to hear me say that every night. The next morning, as the alarm was sounding on my deaf ears, my father turned my light on without silencing the alarm. Ten minutes later, my mother was twisting my toe nagging me to wake up. I’m not going to school today, I said as I rolled over. Hurry up or you’ll be late. My mother walked down the steps with some hope that there were only a few more weeks left before summer vacation.

Every morning, mom made a hot breakfast for me and my two younger sisters, Becky and Gina. Every night my father would place exactly $.55 for each of us, on his TV for lunch the next day. I would eat my pork roll and eggs and ask my mother to make two pork roll sandwiches since I was always still hungry at lunch. While waiting at the bus stop, which was in front of Schillings’ Bakery, I would buy the softest, sweetest, cherry danish with white icing. They would melt in my mouth. I would buy three of them for a total of $.45. I would eat two before school. At lunch, I would eat the pork roll sandwiches, buy milk for $.10 and eat the last danish. It actually became a routine.

The halls of Chelsingham High School looked like they were being wall papered. There were so many hand made student council election signs. Some of them were quite elaborate. All the rich kids who were told by their parents, since the 1st grade, they could only be a doctor, lawyer or politician were running for office. Every once in a while there would be a poster advertising for the senior prom. I already went to the Junior Prom and, of course, Amy would never let me go to the senior prom with anyone else.

Just like a schedule, my friends and I would meet in front of the school. Mark, Ron, Eric and I were discussing the upcoming election when Dan pulled up in his souped up Nova. Dan was like the Fonzie of the school. Everyone thought he failed a couple of grades but he was actually the same age as the rest of us. He just appeared older and wiser. He dropped off a girl who he probably just met, parked his car in the security guard’s parking stall and greeted the group with what’s up? Smith, here are those Phillies tickets for your dad and brothers. Dan was also the best source for Phillies, Flyers, Eagles and 76ers tickets. The seats were in a private box with all the free cheese steak sandwiches, pizza and drinks you could imagine. Dan may have seemed like a hoodlum to some but he took care of his friends. He knew when you needed to talk and he was there for you. If you needed advice, he was the guy to see.

I met Mark in the 4th grade when my father transferred everyone to public school from Catholic school. I sat next to Mark and it didn’t take long to become best friends. Mark’s father was a township cop who everyone called Howie. One time while in Mark’s garage, I opened the refrigerator and noticed there were several different brands of beer in there. I asked Mark, What type of beer does your dad drink? Whatever kind he confiscates from kids at the park, came the reply. We all liked to hang out at Mark’s house. Both his parents were cool.

Returning back to the steps of Chelsingham, Dan asked which rich jerk was going to win the election. Everyone in the school figured Caleb Weinstein would win again. He was currently the vice president as a junior and last year he was the treasurer. Next year, he would be a senior and fulfill his parents’ dreams as the president. His father was a heart surgeon and a big donor to the school’s activities. His mother was the President of the PTA. His not making president was a thought they could not handle. Well, the assembly of boring speeches is today, Mark commented. Yeah, we should cut and go somewhere, Eric said. But Dan insisted they go to heckle the speeches. I’ll see you guys there, I said as I ran off to meet Amy at her locker. I met her every morning before class. Of course, after walking her to her class, I would be late to English.

Many times, I would smile at my teacher and she would graciously excuse my tardiness. I got along with all the teachers but the women teachers always told my mother what a nice young man I was and I played it to the max. Today was a test on the book, A Tale of Two Cities. I had very good reading comprehension skills and knew that if I would’ve only taken the time to read the book, I would ace the tests. I figured I would read the next one. As for this day, I would look busy and wait for the small cheat sheet that would be handed to me by Lisa Hagler when she finished the test. I would change one or two of the answers so I wouldn’t get a perfect paper. I didn’t want to be too cocky plus it was too risky. A low A was acceptable. As the bell rang, I dreaded the thought of assembly even if it did mean no class.

The hallway in front of the auditorium was like a cattle drive. Every now and then a teacher would try to prod the students into their seats. Even though they were supposed to sit by homeroom, Dan, Mark, Eric and I all sat together after checking in with our homeroom teachers. Right before the pledge of allegiance, Michael Quinlan would arrive and, matter of factly, tell the kid who was sitting next to Eric to move to another seat, which he did without question. Mike was the comedian of the group and most of the time it was without him even knowing it. He thought he was John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. He really could dance and he talked just like him. He would say things to perfect strangers that would put everyone else in stitches. One time while working at the Penn Fruit grocery store, an older woman in her late 70’s dropped a jar of pickles in an empty aisle. She was flustered and started to walk away. Mike quickly turned the corner and said, I saw that, get back here and clean it up. He actually got her a mop and made her clean it up. Another time, we were all at a rich girl’s house for a pre-junior prom party. It was fully catered and all of her rich, proper relatives were there. Mike saw shrimp and used the shrimp fork to eat the shrimp right off the platter. When it was time to leave, he reached into the platter and grabbed a big handful of shrimp and put them in the pocket of his tuxedo jacket. One old lady stared at him in disgust and Mike responded, What are you looking at?

The assembly started and all under classmen gave their speeches for treasurer/secretary. For Vice President, the choice was simple. Vanessa Bachman was a cute girl who was smart and very sweet. She had a great personality. Everyone knew she would be very successful in life. The type you would vote Most Likely to Succeed. She had Vanessa’ 4 Vice signs all over the school. She should have run for President but then she wouldn’t have the catchy slogan. When the presidential portion started, it was a series of boring Aren’t I impressive speeches. When Caleb gave his speech, it was more like a history lesson in past Presidents of the United States. He had more quotes than a court stenographer. When he finished, we all heckled him. We were getting ready to leave when a new candidate was introduced. His name was Harvey Greenberg. He was a big, fat kid with glasses, polyester pants that were too short and a shirt. The only thing missing was the pocket protector. This guy was the definition of nerd. During his speech, Dan asked Is this guy for real? Our whole group stood up and cheered when Harvey finished his speech. The rest of the group caught on to what we were doing and also started to cheer. Three quarters of the audience were cheering for Harvey, which caused the real candidates to get angry. Although everyone was cheering for Harvey in fun and to mock the serious contenders, Harvey took their applause to heart.

Harvey was an only child who shared the same hobbies as his father. He liked to read about the railroad and world history. He and his father used to go to the railroad museums together. However, Harvey’s father died two years earlier of a sudden heart attack. Being an only child, he only had his mother left. He really didn’t have any friends. When he told his mother about the election, she told him that his father would be proud of him for taking on the challenge. The thought of being President of Chelsingham High School made him realize how proud his father would have been. Although he knew he could never win, he decided to work hard and win the election for his father. He spent the next month working on his campaign. His mother would spend numerous hours on his posters and flyers. When the auditorium cleared, Harvey sat in his seat and looked up at heaven. Maybe I can do it, Dad, he whispered.

Everyone leaving the auditorium was joking about the response to Harvey’s speech. Wouldn’t it be funny if Harvey beat Caleb? someone said. Yeah, let’s push for Harvey as a joke to embarrass Caleb, and the Harvey for President Conspiracy began. That night, Harvey ran all the way home to tell his mother about the assembly. The sweat was pouring off him as he opened the door, out of breath. His mother heard him out of breath and panicked. Are you alright? she asked remembering the days in elementary school when he would routinely get chased home by the bullies. She knew he had good news by the size of his huge smile. In between breaths, he said, They stood for me and cheered Mom. Your father would be so proud, she said with tears in her eyes. She then put her hands on his shoulders and said, Let’s make Vote for Harvey cookies. With that, they baked cookies late into the night.

The next morning was beautiful. While sitting in first period, I thought about how driving to the beach would be a lot more fun than Algebra. I looked over at Amy, who was two rows over and mouthed, Do you want to go? This wouldn’t be the first time we cut school to drive to Ship Bottom, NJ. She perked up and lipped, Let’s go. The two of us were now sitting in anticipation of the bell to end Mr. Fliegler’s class. As soon as class was over, we each went to our lockers, grabbed our things and met at her Pinto in the parking lot. Even though my dad wouldn’t let me get my license until I was 18, I always drove her car. Two of my older sisters totaled their car at 16 so my father passed a rule, no license until you are 18. It was embarrassing but it wouldn’t stop me from driving when I was with a girl and Amy knew it. She wanted me to drive anyway. We had a regular routine. We would stop at the store, buy Tastykakes and soda and stop before the Tacony Palmyra Bridge and buy soft pretzels at the corner stand. Then we would put in the Beach Boys Endless Summer cassette and cruise to the shore. Once on the Island, we would stop at the small diner where we would buy breakfast for $.99 each. Soon the summer prices would be in effect and the $.99 breakfasts would be gone until September. We would always park on 18th Street where the family house was, unless my grandparents were down. I would park on 19th Street if they were.

There was something about driving down the shore with her and walking along the beach that made me feel like a real man. I felt like the man that I always considered my hero, my father. This way, I was the one taking the family to the shore. The beach was beautiful this time of year and quiet. You could walk for blocks by the ocean without passing a single person. In a few weeks, this place would be so crowded; you would have to step around everyone. We walked on the jetties and looked for starfish. My brother, Greg, always found them when he was down, but I couldn’t locate any for Amy. We sat on the empty lifeguard chair, stared out at the ocean and just talked about our future. We always talked about how we would get married