12th Grade, High School

Age: 17

October-November 2009

…

TJ jogs down the stairs, tucking his shirt into his khakis as he flies into the basement. The rest of the boys were still sleeping when he went up to his room to change, the consequences of last night's Halloween party keeping them in their slumbers. He chuckles as he looks at his friends, sprawled out on various pieces of furniture. Gus is curled into a ball in an armchair, his face buried in his knees, while Vince has half his body hanging off the couch. Mikey is the only one of the three that appears comfortable, still tucked in under a blanket on an air mattress.

He walks over to Vince and kneels down next to the boy's face. It isn't difficult to piece together how Vince ended up like this. When TJ and Spinelli had rejoined the party the previous night, the energy in the woods had skyrocketed.

Apparently, it had started out innocently – Gretchen later admitted on their ride home, over Vince's off-key Rihanna duet with Gus, that the two had made a pact to try drinking for the first time in what they believed was a controlled environment. Mikey was the designated driver and they were surrounded by their friends. What could go wrong? While Gretchen figured out her limits fairly quickly and left the party barely tipsy, Vince had decided that beating Vance at flip cup required a few more rounds that he'd initially planned.

By the time TJ and Spinelli made their reappearance, the chaos was well underway. Mikey and Gretchen were busy trying to rein in Vince, who had roped Gus into being his flip cup partner. The two boys together were loud, competitive, and – much to Gretchen's dismay – beyond any reason or logic. When they finally got control, Mikey nearly dragging Vince away from the competition with Gus skipping behind, they piled everyone into the van with plans to deposit Vince and Gus in the Detweiler basement to sleep it off.

TJ blows air through his lips in a steady stream toward Vince's cheek. Vince's nose wrinkles and he swats at TJ's breath with his hand, but doesn't open his eyes. TJ chuckles.

"Good morning, sunshine," he sings in Vince's ear.

Vince groans and brings his arm to his head, covering his face with his bicep.

"Shut up," he grunts. "I hate sunshine."

"I didn't realize the sun was so offensive to you."

"Everything is offensive to me right now," Vince grumbles, adjusting to sit up on the couch. He holds his head in his hands and closes his eyes. "Ugh, the world is spinning."

"All this pain and you didn't even beat Vance," TJ says with an eyebrow raised.

Vince glares from behind his hands. "Not interested in a lecture right now, Teej."

From behind, TJ can hear grumbling and he turns away from Vince. Gus has reached down, grabbing one of the blankets off Mikey to throw over his head. He curls back up in the chair, under the blanket, looking like a lump.

"Stop talking," he moans from beneath the sherpa. "It's too loud."

TJ glances at Mikey and the two not hungover friends share a look. He smirks and, with a slight nod of encouragement from the air mattress, TJ crosses his arms and surveys the room with mock disappointment.

"Pathetic," he says, trying to channel his parents for the act. "You two can't even handle a little flip cup."

Gus moans from under the blanket, but Vince flops back on the couch dramatically.

"It wasn't a little game of flip cup," Vince grunts. He points in TJ's direction, despite not looking at him. "And I didn't see you anywhere to help."

"Seriously, can we quiet down…please?" Gus's voice whines from the chair.

He ignores Gus and keeps his eyes on Vince, enjoying the ribbing a little too much. "Glad I didn't, judging from your hangover," he says, hoping his friends have learned a little about their limits.

Vince drops his arms to his sides and pushes himself up, his pride too stubborn to lay back. He crosses his arms and gives a half-wince, half-smirk.

"Yeah, you would have definitely been a liability," Vince says. Then he frowns and his eyes scan TJ from head to toe. "What are you wearing? You look like Menlo."

TJ straightens and stands, feigning offense as he gestures comically to outfit. "I'm going golfing."

Vince blinks at him and, deadpan, says, "You don't golf."

"With who?" Gus pipes, peeking his head out from under the covers.

"Principal Prickly."

"You. Golfing?" Vince repeats slowly, his voice incredulous. "With Prickly."

"Yup," TJ says cheerfully. He grins at his plan. "You see, he has a standing tee time on Sundays and I thought it might be a good chance to get some advice."

"Advice?" Gus asks, frowning and squinting at the brightness of the room.

"Golfing?" Vince repeats, a chuckle in his voice.

"Oh, that sounds wonderful," Mikey says, his voice booming with exaggerated enthusiasm. Gus groans, retreating further under the blanket, as Mikey continues in a slightly lower tone. "I had no idea that you'd kept in touch with the benevolent dictator of our youth."

TJ shrugs and shakes his head. "I, uh, well. I haven't really. Kept up with him, that is."

Vince raises his eyebrows and gives a long dramatic blink. "You're crashing his tee time?"

"I wouldn't call it crashing," TJ says hurriedly. "More like…conveniently arriving at the same time."

The idea had come to him last night, while he was waiting for Vince and Gus to tire themselves out enough to sleep. Phil had mentioned Prickly's Sunday morning standing tee time very briefly during the party, but it had stuck in his head. He hadn't seen Prickly in years, barring a few incidental run-ins around town, but the former principal had offered TJ solid advice in the past. He certainly isn't expecting Prickly to give him all the answers, but talking to the people in his life hadn't given him any career direction yet. Maybe Prickly would offer some different insights.

Or maybe it was a two in the morning Hail Mary idea that would end in disaster – he wouldn't know until he got there.

Mikey laughs, grinning widely. "I think he'll appreciate your elaborate plan. A little chaos on a crisp fall Sunday may even provide some nostalgia from your glory days."

"I sure hope so," he says. Glancing between Vince and Gus, he adds, "But, that means the two of you need a new crash pad."

"Just send me home to bed," Gus groans. He flops the blanket off his face. "A nice warm bed and a soft pillow sound heavenly."

"Absolutely not. You both reek," he says. He shakes his head at the image of Mr. Griswald or either of the LaSalle parents even catching a whiff of their sons. Both of them would be grounded until graduation. "Gretch says you can crash in her room until you're well enough to shower."

Gus lifts his shirt to his nose, his eyebrows furrowing together. Vince crosses his arms defiantly and stands, too quickly, from the couch and nearly topples back down. He quickly brings his hands to his head, holding it as if he's trying to keep it in place, as he groans.

Even as his head spins, he mutters, "I'm fine."

TJ rolls his eyes and grabs both Vince and Gus's overnight bags from the corner of the room. "Sure thing, sunshine." He turns toward Mikey. "I'll walk with them over there so they don't yak in your mom's van."

Mikey agrees and TJ helps the other two get ready. It's the longest walk to Gretchen's that he has ever made. Even with sunglasses on, both boys have to take breaks. Gus stops because he's nauseous. Vince stops because he's dizzy. When the three arrive at Gretchen's porch, both of them look like they're about to keel over.

"Congratulations on your inaugural walk of shame," Spinelli says as the girls open the door.

Vince flips her off without looking up. "Shut up, Spin."

Gretchen sighs and shakes her head, ushering them inside. "You are just lucky my parents are out this morning," she says, her tone sharp.

Spinelli leans casually against the doorframe, her eyes scanning TJ with barely concealed amusement.

"Nice get up," she says dryly, nodding toward his khakis. "You never said where you were headed so early."

He supposes he didn't when he texted the girls, nearly begging them to take Vince and Gus off his hands so he could do something important. Part of him didn't want to tell them, his own insecurities mounting after last night, but now that it's just him and Spinelli on the porch, he gives a little shrug and tugs at his collar in mock seriousness.

"Important business," he jokes. When she raises an eyebrow in anticipation, he continues. "I'm meeting Prickly at the golf course. See if I can pick his brain on something."

"What something?" she asks curiously.

"Just future stuff," he says. He rubs the back of his neck. "You know, our talk last night made me realize that I kind of have to get a move on figuring out my plan for after high school."

She sighs, the playfulness from earlier melting into concern. "Teej, is it really this urgent? You've got plenty of time to figure out the details."

"I know," he tells her, reaching for her hand and giving it a squeeze. "But you have a plan and I want a plan too. And Prickly always knew what I needed at Third Street, even when I didn't know myself."

She nods her head in understanding, her expression still soft with concern. Gretchen calls her name from inside the house and she bids him goodbye, although he can tell from her expression she isn't convinced about his plan. As soon as she shuts the door, he jogs back home to grab his bicycle, leaving later than he had anticipated and now needing the extra speed to get to the course. Although he doesn't know what Prickly's specific tee time is, he knows Prickly's tendencies from his Third Street days – and knows that beneath his hardened shell, Prickly is a stickler for tradition and routine. So, he pulls his bike up to the golf course, and locks it in the bike rack, racing in to the shop in hopes of beating his former principal.

The bells over the door jingle as TJ enters the golf shop. Through the window, he can see the course is already filled with groups of golfers, dressed in their khakis and polo shirts, golf bags slung over their shoulders. Phil sits at the cash register, his head in his hands, looking rough from last night. The mystery punch must have hit him similar to Vince and Gus.

TJ approaches the cash register and leans against it. Phil doesn't look up and TJ glances at the small bell on the counter. He debates it for a moment and then taps the bell, the shriek louder than he expected. Phil groans and lifts his head slightly.

"Oh, hey, TJ," he grunts. He has a half-drank bottle of yellow Gatorade on the counter next to him. "What are you doing here so early?"

TJ leans against the counter. "Has Prickly started his game yet?"

Phil shakes his head, his eyes glancing up to the clock on the far wall. "No, but he should be here shortly." His brows furrow. "Are you golfing with Prickly?"

TJ smiles and shrugs. "He doesn't know about it yet."

Even through the haze, Phil smirks. "Oh, I'm sure he'll be thrilled."

TJ loiters around the shop while he waits, browsing racks of overpriced clothing and golf balls. Golf always seemed boring to him – a hobby for rich people with too much time on their hands. Judging by the price tags, he wasn't wrong in his initial assessment. The longer he waits, the more his nerves creep in, twisting uncomfortably in his stomach as he worries that Prickly may not show after all.

The bells ring over the door again right on the hour and TJ looks up. Peter Prickly strides in, his presence looming over the store. Though hair is grayer and the lines around his eyes have deepened, he's the same stern man whose voice used to echo across the recess playground, usually reprimanding him for some sort of preteen mischief.

"Morning, Phil," Prickly says gruffly, heading to the counter.

"Mornin'," Phil grumbles, his voice thick with fatigue. He glances over Prickly's shoulder to TJ, a flicker of amusement in his tired eyes.

Prickly follows Phil's gaze, his brows furrowing when he spots TJ. His expression falters for just a moment, the corners of his mouth tugging downward in concern, before he recovers, raising his eyebrows in annoyance.

"TJ?" he says, his voice laden with suspicion. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Principal Prickly," TJ exclaims, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips. He covers it with, "What a surprise! Running into you here, of all places!"

From behind the counter, Phil snickers quietly, sipping his Gatorade while he watches the interaction. TJ shoots him a warning glance, hoping he won't ruin his moment to convince Prickly to let him join, but Phil just smirks wider over the mouth of his bottle. Prickly glances between the two teens and grumbles inaudibly under his breath.

When he turns his focus back on TJ, the vein in his forehead has bulged slightly.

"Spit it out, Detweiler," Prickly says sternly. "What do you want?"

TJ bites his lip, wondering if his plan is going to fail after all. Maybe he is too far removed from Prickly now to get away with this type of tomfoolery. Maybe he should have waited for Monday, charged into his office after school for a chat there. His plan is starting to feel more and more ridiculous the longer he stands there trying to come up with a witty retort.

"I, uh," TJ says, rubbing the back of his neck. His shirt, half-untucked from his early rush, slips free entirely. "I was looking for some golf lessons."

Prickly crosses his arms, unimpressed. "Golf lessons?"

"Yeah," TJ says, a smile curling onto his lips. He can feel his plan starting to fall into place. "I figured, if I was going to learn, I might as well learn from a pro!"

Phil laughs, choking a bit on his Gatorade, and Prickly exhales loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Finally, he opens his eyes and turns to Phil, tapping the counter loudly to catch the other boy's attention. Phil stands up a little straighter.

"Alright, well, get him some clubs, Phil," Prickly relents. As Phil walks into the back to grab the rental clubs, Prickly turns back to TJ. "Tuck in that shirt, Detweiler. If you're going to play golf with me, you're going to do it right."

TJ tucks the edges of his polo shirt that had come untucked in his haste, feeling like he's getting ready for school picture day. He glances at Prickly, who wears a long-sleeved button up with a sweater vest over it. He nods to Prickly's outfit.

"You know, Principal Prickly," TJ says, smirking. "I didn't realize golf was such a fashion show. I should have stolen one of my dad's sweater vests. We could've matched!"

Prickly glares at him. "I am not your principal anymore." Then under his breath he mutters, "Thank God."

"Oh, come on, Petey. You know you missed me," TJ says as Phil heads out, passing the bag over the counter to TJ.

"Watch your mouth, Detweiler. You're on thin ice as it is," Prickly grumbles, turning his back and leading TJ out to the course. "Kids these days."

The two teens share a glance. "Good luck," Phil says.

TJ races out, following Prickly down the steps and toward the course. He meets Prickly at the first tee, coming up to stand beside him.

"Alright," Prickly says, gesturing for him to tee off first. "Let's see what you've got."

TJ looks at his golf bag and bites his tongue. He hadn't thought he would actually be golfing despite joining Prickly on his rounds. He sorts through the different clubs, not knowing which one to take for the initial shot. He guesses on the biggest one and pulls it out. He sets the ball on the tee and adjusts his hands like he would on a baseball bat, taking a swing.

The ball falls off the tee, bouncing on the grass a few inches away. The club digs into the grass, leaving a divot where TJ made contact. He winces and turns toward Prickly, who has his hand on his forehead in disbelief.

"Good grief, Detweiler," he exclaims. "Are you swinging a golf club or digging to China?"

"Just making sure you're awake!" TJ says, chuckling nervously.

"Do a few practice swings before you take another hunk out of the grass."

He steps back from the tee and swings the club again, not feeling much different in his stance to when he swung the first time. Prickly steps around to face him.

"LaSalle sure hasn't rubbed off on you, has he?" he says. Then he pulls a club out of TJ's bag and places his hands on the handle, holding it out for TJ to see. "Hold your hands more like this."

TJ mimics Prickly's grip on the handle and takes a few more practice swings. Once he feels ready, he fixes the tee and takes a step up. Letting out a deep breath, he swings the club, connecting with the ball. It doesn't soar like it should, but it makes it about twenty yards down the fairway. TJ grins and turns to Prickly, glad he connected with the ball instead of the grass.

"There you go," Prickly says, reaching into his own golf bag for a club.

"I'll be a pro in no time."

Prickly shakes his head. "I'd hold off on getting tickets to the Masters."

TJ leans against his bag and watches as Prickly steps to the tee. Prickly takes a few practice swings before stepping up to the tee, lining up his club with the ball, before sending the ball soaring through the sky. TJ whistles loudly, to which Prickly turns and gives him a look, before continuing to guide them down the fairway.

"So, are you just a natural at this whole golf thing?" TJ asks, falling into step with Prickly.

Prickly scoffs. "Of course not," he says, almost laughing. He sighs and looks at TJ with a softened glance. "I've hit my fair share of grass too."

"How long'd it take for you to get any good?"

"Longer than you'd have patience for, I'd bet," Prickly laughs.

He does okay on holes two and three, but on hole four, he sends a wild shot sideways that ends up in the pond. He groans, wrinkling his nose. He goes back to his bag and grabs another ball as they head out. Once they arrive to the pond, TJ drops the ball on the neatly trimmed grass of the fairway.

"Inventing your own rules now, huh?" Prickly asks.

TJ frowns and points toward the pond. "My ball's in the water. I'm supposed to hit it from there?"

"No, but there's a proper drop zone. No shortcuts in golf," he says, gesturing to a marked area closer to the water than TJ had dropped his ball. "Although, if anyone were going to find one, I suppose it would be you."

"I don't know, I haven't been too good at finding any shortcuts lately," TJ mutters as he starts toward the drop zone, dragging his feet. "Or long-cuts for that matter."

Prickly makes a knowing noise in the back of his throat and TJ turns back toward Prickly, frowning.

"Finally getting around to telling me what's bothering you?"

TJ looks up, his eyebrows raised. "What do you mean?"

Prickly tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. "You really think I believed you wanted to play a round of golf?" He laughs. "TJ, give me some credit here."

He digs the toe of his sneaker into the grass.

"Okay, you caught me," he mumbles.

"You've clearly got something important on your mind. I saw Phil. The night after Halloween and you're up bright-eyed and bushy tailed? So, let's hear it."

TJ bites his lip at Prickly's mention of Halloween, feeling weird talking to him about the party last night. Prickly's insinuation that he knows what had happened almost feels like telling his parents about their activities. But Prickly doesn't appear judgmental, more matter-of-fact, and it encourages TJ to open up. This is why he had come to Prickly after all – he wanted advice from someone he trusted but wasn't his family or friends. As unbiased an opinion as he could probably get in their town.

"Well, it's kind of a lot," he admits. "Everyone is starting to figure out what they're doing after graduation. I'm sure you saw that Vince signed with Wake Forest. Spin just got her acceptance to the University of Arkansas. So did Gus. And I'm happy for them because they know exactly what their plans are, but…"

He swallows, looking down at his shoes to avoid looking Prickly in the eye. "I didn't apply anywhere. School just…"

He shrugs, tightening his hands around the handle of his club to ground him. "They're all so far ahead of me and I guess I'm just worried that I'm never going to figure it out."

After a moment, he dares a look up at Prickly. The older man's expression is softer than TJ had expected, and Prickly appears thoughtful, weighing his words before speaking them.

"Figuring it out isn't just a one-time deal when you're seventeen. You're going to be figuring things out for the rest of your life," he says finally. Then he lets out a single laugh. "Trust me on that one."

"Great," TJ grumbles. "I can't even pick a job now! How am I going to make bigger decisions!"

"Sometimes the bigger decisions are easier to make," Prickly says, shrugging. "Look, picking a career isn't nothing, but it also isn't a once and done. Some of the best teachers I've worked with were second career teachers. Took them years to find their way and they're all the better for it."

TJ finds his jaw loosening in surprise. He had never imagined that teaching would be something someone would stumble upon later in life. "Really?"

"Really," Prickly says, smirking at the surprise on TJ's face. "Sometimes things work out exactly as you've planned. Sometimes they don't." He gives TJ a knowing look. "That's something I would think you, of all people, would understand."

TJ feels some of the tension releasing, his hands loosening around the golf club. "I don't know. My little playground plans seem a lot less important," he mutters. He winces as his father's voice fills his head, telling him he can't scheme his way out of this one. "This whole college thing…it's been my parents' plan for me and I'm going against it."

Prickly sits on the words again. "I'm sure your parents just want you to be happy, Detweiler," he says. "Sometimes parents aren't the best at showing it."

He lets Prickly's words sink in. He wonders if his old principal is speaking from experience, as a son or as a parent himself. But the words are comforting regardless.

Prickly shakes out of the softness, his voice back to the practical tone TJ is used to when he says, "If I were in your shoes, I would think about the non-negotiables. What do you want in your life no matter what job you have?"

TJ gives Prickly a look, but Prickly doubles down on the silence, making TJ respond next. He lets out a frustrated groan, having hoped that Prickly might give him guidance rather than hypotheticals. But, regardless, he closes his eyes, trying to imagine what his ideal life looks like in five, ten, fifteen years.

The house that emerges appears vaguely familiar, but he can't place it exactly. The neighborhood looks like it could be his own. It's a small bungalow with a front porch, oddly reminiscent of the Wilsons', but with a bay window like the Spinellis have. He climbs up the stairs and opens the front door. There's a dog leash hanging from the coat rack. He can smell the Spinelli family's secret sauce. Then he hears two high pitched squeals as a pair of children, a boy and a girl, run toward him. The boy is small, toddling on chubby legs. The girl is nearly the identical copy of Spinelli in kindergarten, but with bright blue eyes that sparkle with joy. Over his children's heads he can see Spinelli in the doorway, smiling. Happy.

He opens his eyes.

"Well," Prickly prompts.

TJ shrugs, the admission making him feel almost silly. "I don't see a job." Then he swallows and thinks of the images again, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "All I see is Spin. A couple of kids. A house in town, maybe."

Prickly's expression shifts, a tenderness in his eyes that TJ hasn't seen before. There's a small smile forming, but it seems tinged with nostalgia and pride.

"Which, you know, doesn't narrow down my job options much," TJ says, suddenly feeling vulnerable under Prickly's gaze. "So, back to square one."

"Not necessarily. You just articulated what most kids your age can't," Prickly tells him. "You know what you value. Family. Stability. Community. That's your starting point."

Prickly rests a hand on his shoulder. "Can I give you my two cents?"

"You mean, you haven't already?" TJ jokes.

Prickly chuckles and then in a serious tone says, "I could see you doing very well in a job that lets you give back to the community."

"I thought about the military," TJ admits. "But I just can't do that to Spinelli."

"The military does come with quite a bit of sacrifice," Prickly agrees. "But maybe something similar but at home, some sort of first responder. It would certainly put your leadership to good use."

TJ considers it for a moment. He had recently done a ride around with Mr. Spinelli's cop friend. It hadn't thrilled him, but it was doable. The job did seem to have a large connection with the community, which now that Principal Prickly pointed it out, did feel right. But maybe there was something else similar.

"Yeah, maybe," he says, testing it out.

"I will say this, life will never be as straightforward as you want it to be," Prickly says. "Even your friends who think they have everything together," he shakes his head. "Their journeys will wind and weave, just like yours will. And, as someone who has been winding and weaving for a lot longer than you, it doesn't end. You just take it one day at a time."

He nods his head and Prickly rests a hand on his shoulder. "Now, you think on that, and I'm going to try to get you through this golf game."

"How about we make it a little more interesting," TJ says with a smirk. "I hit someone with a wild ball and I get extra points."

Prickly groans. "How about you get extra points if you don't?"

By the time they finish the golf game, TJ is more confused about golf than he was at the beginning and Prickly's frustration with him is palpable through their mundane banter. Prickly offers him a ride home, but he declines – he has his bike and, even if he didn't, he wants the chance to think through Prickly's advice on his own.

He knew it had been unlikely that Prickly would give him all the answers he wanted, but he had hoped for a few more specifics. As he bikes through downtown, he slows down and stops outside city hall. He leans his arms on the handlebars and glances around the town square. Right next to city hall is the town's police station and he sighs.

The only specific Prickly had mentioned was being a first responder, which seemed like another sign among what seemed to be an endless string of them suggesting that he was destined to be a cop. Maybe that's what he's supposed to do, even if it feels like settling. It seems ironic that troublesome TJ Detweiler would become a cop. Or maybe hypocritical, given his run-ins with authority in the past. Regardless, he feels stuck with this being the option seemingly handed to him.

He frowns and starts pedaling again, his eyes glancing around the square. The downtown has a park right in the center, surrounded by a square of government offices and small businesses. As he pulls onto the main drive that will bring him back to his neighborhood, an ambulance drives by, lights and sirens off. His eyes follow it across the square to where it starts parking in the fire station's garage.

The garage doors are all open and a few of the firefighters are cleaning the truck, spraying water from a hose onto the sudsy red engine. The sunlight catches on the bubbles, making the rig gleam in the autumn sun. The ambulance backs up into the driveway next to the rig and the paramedics who jump out start to converse easily with the firefighters cleaning their truck. The easy camaraderie they share intrigues him. TJ had known in the back of his mind that ambulances and firetrucks both parked at the same place, but he had never really realized how integrated the teams would be. He supposes it makes sense – ambulances and firetrucks tended to go together.

He sighs, turns away from the station, and starts pedaling toward home. Frustration settles in the pit of his gut. His morning didn't bring him the answers he hoped for, his future still clouded like smoke refusing to clear.

…

Notes:

Prickly was a new teacher in 1968 per the School's Out movie, so assuming he's in his early 20s then, he was born around 1946, making him in his early 60s here.

When TJ says, "Principal Prickly, what a surprise!" I wanted that to be a call back to School's Out, where TJ says the exact same thing when Prickly catches him pretending to be him on the loudspeaker at the beginning.

As we start to near the second half of senior year and the end of their journey through school, I'd love to hear what events from senior year you're interested in seeing. There are still plenty of plot points I have to explore with these kids (college decisions, senior prom, graduation) but I'd love to hear what the audience is most interested in seeing. So please let me know! Gretchen and Gus will have their hand at narration in the spring, so if you're looking forward to them, they're coming, I swear!

Thanks for reading - TJ continues for Part 3 soon.