Folded Notes from High School

by Matthew Boren

  Oh god, the envelope, Matt! Okay, so remember when I was being wicked immature a while back? I know, seems like forever ago, and it kind of was. I don’t remember much that occurred pre-getting-into-three-colleges. Anyway, when life was chaotic I asked you to call me when a Pinto arrived in Chris Caparelli’s driveway. Remember? And you were so sweet to call me and tell me. I kinda fibbed (my Gramma Maureen’s favorite word) to you, Matt. I wasn’t driving over to “surprise” Chris and his “friend.” I mean, I guess in a way it was a surprise, but anyway, the “friend” Chris was with was a slutty, not-nice girl named Kathy Connery (may you never cross paths with her!), and she was the young lady having the affair with my then-boyfriend. They very well might still be having that affair, but it’s not my concern, nor do I care. I needed evidence, and I sneaked into his backyard, climbed a grill, and took pictures of him and Kathy hooking up. And oh what pictures I snapped! I was so mad I was gonna plaster the pictures all over town, but luckily I have a best friend and a powerful, meditative conscience, so I didn’t. I put the pictures in an envelope and asked you to hold on to the envelope so I wouldn’t be tempted to do anything with the pictures. But life is just so different now, and I have no interest in the past. So . . . there we are. Caughtcha up! Sooo . . . however you can best destroy the “evidence,” please do so. Thank you a ton and can’t wait for Prom.

  Your good friend,

  Tara

  JUNE 1992

  Dearest Blooming Flower,

  I wanted to tell you again that I had the most wonderful night at Prom with you. It will always be, for me, a snow-globe night I hold on to. And I will always get to open my wallet and look at our Prom picture.

  No matter what hardships present themselves, I will forever be able to look at our Prom picture and know that I was the lucky one who lost her jean jacket. Because in return I got my jean jacket back, yes, but most importantly a lifelong friend.

  You looked so handsome, and the paisley tux . . . so awesome! I’m just glad I wore my jean jacket over that dress. It got so cold at the after party.

  What a fun, easy, and memorable night. I drew you a picture of us. I hope you like it. It’s just a sketch of how I remember us that night. Laughing, enjoying, being happy.

  I’m sorry again that I left the after party early. Justin really needed me. So much was going on at his house, so I’m glad I got to scoop him up and get him out of there. He and I will both be in colleges in Vermont next year, and I am glad they are different schools but I am also happy we won’t be too far from each other. He’s my best friend, whether we are “together” or not. I really hope you come visit me at Bennington!

  I will always be here for you, Matt.

  Thank you for being the best Prom date a girl could ask for, and I’m talking to my aunt and uncle today! They are the best, and I am almost positive they will find a spot for you at NYU Summer Theater School.

  Biggest hug,

  Stacey

  Stacey,

  I honestly had the best time at your Prom. How great was it when Stef and Diego were named Prom king and queen? I don’t even know them, but they just seem like the nicest people. It was great to share the limo with all of them.

  And no worries at all for leaving the after party. I’m just really happy you got to help Justin.

  You better believe I will be visiting you in Vermont.

  And I love your drawing. I am going to frame it.

  I know you don’t care about “stupid awards,” but congratulations on getting Most Beautiful and Best Dressed. You are most beautiful, my friend, and hey, now the Stacey Simon jean jacket will live on forever in your yearbook!

  Thanks for being you, and thank you SO, SO much for talking to your aunt and uncle for me! No matter the outcome I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you offering that, Stacey. I still can’t believe your aunt and uncle are the heads of admissions at NYU! So crazy.

  Love,

  Matt

  P.S. I would love some wallets from Prom whenever . . .

  To-est the Queen of South High,

  No one deserves that title more than you, Stef. I loved our theme, “Hold On to the Nights,” but man, it coulda also been “Oh, What a Night!” Because, you know what, Stef . . . oh what a night it was. For many a reason.

  Is Kev Brandolini a magician, because that guy disappeared into thin air. Oh my god. He was awesome, though, and the important part is that everyone saw me with him and that we got pictures together! I could tell he wasn’t wicked comfortable being there. I mean, he LOVED bein’ with me, but the Prom itself felt wicked random for him. Hey, I don’t blame him (things to do with South High have always felt wicked random for me, too).

  Still can’t get over “I’ve Had the Time of My Life” comin’ on right when Christopher started talking to me. Thank you for grabbing me, Soup. Is there anything funnier than when you ran up like Baby and I held you up? If we could all be as little and petite as you! You gotta give Christopher a couple-a points for askin’ me to dance at the end of the song, though. That was the most romantic thing he’s ever done, and he’s done so many! Just like your Diego!!

  I can’t believe West Side Story opens in 9 days and then we blink and high school ends.

  Hey, we’re leaving Most Talented, me, and Most Likely to Succeed, you. Oh, and you’re our friggin’ Prom queen! Not too shabby, You. Now don’t go ’round gettin’ wicked conceited ’cuz you’re Prom queen and goin’ to Northwestern AND dating a hot guy! I got my eye on you, Stefanie Wendy Campbell. Like you’ve always had yours on me, makin’ sure I don’t do anything to damage my reputation, I pinky promise to do the same for you. K?

  And how thrilled are we for our dear Stacey that she got Most Beautiful and Best Dressed? I mean, hey . . . if those Superlatives didn’t go to me or you, I know we are both wicked happy they at least stayed in the family and went to our other best friend.

  I didn’t tell you everything about the Christopher of it all. I left out the part where he offered me the ring back. Guess what I said? No thank you. (Besides, I think it turned my finger green.)

  Love you to pieces,

  Tara

  To-est T-Murphs,

  It is one thing that you were generous enough to dance with Chris. But, Tara . . . DO NOT TAKE THE RING BACK! Just be careful, Tar. You’ve come so far. Be careful and thoughtful here. And you know what? I don’t need to know everything about the “Chris of it all.” That’s your business, and I have full faith you will do right by you.

  I love you.

  Soup

  To my Tony,

  We are so close to opening night, Matt. My final curtain at South High! Wow. As our fearless leader, I will do last looks on our West Side playbills in a couple of days. Tara Maureen Murphy, Matt Bloom, and Joy Rebecca Bernstein above the title, just like you wanted it.

  My new perfume is Escape. I know, seems random me tellin’ you that now, but you did ask back at the beginning of 1992 and I never did get around to tellin’ you. I changed to Escape so I could leave 1991 in the past . . . so I could ESCAPE it. I needed the fragrance as a daily reminder to move forward, Matt. And move forward I have. So have you. So have we all.

  It was awesome sharin’ the dance floor with you, especially during “I’ve Had the Time of My Life.” Stef and I are still dying over our dance routine. But there was that moment when you were twirlin’ Stacey (her jean jacket looked so good over that skimpy yet sophisticated little dress of hers) and I caught your glance. And what a glance it was. Not sure I’ll ever forget that Hungarian-slash-Russian-eyed glance of a Freshman. But time has a funny way of helpin’ people forget, so one never does know.

  If I was still someone who dwelled in what-could-have-beens I would be wondering what happened with the Matt and Tara that could’ve been more than friends. There was that moment, Matt . . . that moment in time when we were right there . . . But alas, now we are right here.
In the now, not the then.

  It’s admittedly a little hard for me to see you and Joy kissing backstage, especially since I’m Maria, but I guess you belong together just the way maybe Christopher and I belong together.

  I will always appreciate our talk outside at the after party. And thank you again for lending me your paisley tux jacket (pretty sure I told you this, but when a boy gives a girl his flannel or his jacket it usually means there is love in his heart). It was so cold and so windy you woulda thought we were in Chicago (Stef’s soon-to-be new home). What’s up with the nights bein’ so friggin’ cold and windy these days? It’s June! Anyway . . . thanks for your jacket. It made one very frigid girl wicked warm—who knew your shoulders were THAT broad!

  And Matt, I know you don’t agree with me considering accepting Christopher back, but he was profusely apologetic, and I know him . . . he meant it. Am I gonna be with him again? Who knows? And if I do get back together with him, will it be forever? Not sure, I can’t seem to find my crystal ball. Might I eventually end up with someone else who happens to be younger and multitalented? Perchance. I’m goin’ to University end of August, Matt. That’s just a fact. I know that, and I also know that right after graduation I am off to a cottage On Island. But that’s it. That’s all I know. The rest will reveal itself as it’s meant to.

  Hey, maybe we can find a few minutes to go to Camel Lot one last time before I skip this town forever. You still don’t know why I call it that!

  All my love,

  Tara Maria

  P.S. Sniff this note. When I’m long gone you can smell this college-ruled paper and . . . Escape . . .

  Tara,

  Hey, no problem about me lending you my tux jacket. It was really cold. And windy. When your hair got stuck to your lips I remembered you telling me about that time you were at the reservoir and that Timmy or Tommy guy pulled it off your lips. And that he then took you back to your house and dumped you. A real jerk, if you ask me. And that’s all I could think about when you were telling me Chris asked you to get back together with him . . . Why would you do that to yourself? I know he told you that he made a mistake and that his life has been “miserable and lonely” ever since he broke up with you, but Tara . . . I don’t know. I care about you and just want the best for you. Is he the best for you?

  Anyway, yeah, I definitely want to go to Camel Lot with you so you’ll finally tell me why you call it that!! This has been like Waiting for Godot!! But let’s make sure to get over there before July 1st. That’s when I ship off to New York. Oh my god, I just realized I haven’t told you. This is so nuts. At Prom, Stacey and I got into this great conversation about life and the future and I told her how I already know I want to go to NYU no matter what. And she was like, “Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?” I was like, “Huh?” Anyway, long story wicked short . . . it turns out Stacey has an aunt and uncle who live in New York City . . . this place called the West Village on 12th Street and 8th Avenue, and they are this super artistic couple who met in acting school at NYU and fast-forward the VHS tape . . . they are now the heads of admissions at NY friggin’ U! What are the chances? So, Stacey (being the thoughtful, great friend she is) called them and got me into their Summer Theater School (which is more a theater camp for high school kids, but still . . . it’s NYU!!!). I guess she told them that she believes in my talent a lot, and she also sent them a tape of some of my original songs. I know you don’t think too highly of NYU and turned them down, but I’m really excited. I am most excited to learn from serious acting professionals, but I am also excited just to live in a dorm downtown!! Even if it is just for six weeks!

  So let’s PLEASE go to Camel Lot before we both . . . Escape!

  Matt “NYU SUMMER STUDENT” Bloom

  To Zeke, Lloyd, Jimmy-Lee, M . . . M . . . M . . . Matt!

  I’m tellin’ ya’, end of Senior year really brings on the amnesia, Kid. I was like, “Tara . . . you know his dang name . . . just think!” So I did just that, Eric. I put my pen down and just thought. Made my head a blank canvas, and then just like that . . . your name came right back to me. Don’t ya just hate when that happens?

  I know this is wicked unfortunate, but I was goin’ thru my Month-At-A-Glance and realized there are just simply zero windows for me to take you to Camel Lot. I know, bummer. And it’s not like I’m gonna white-out any of my graduation parties just to take you to Camel Lot. You think I’d do that to my Senior friends? Just NOT attend their parties so I could take some random Freshman to MY SECRET PLACE? ’Fraid not, Youngster. So as for Godot . . . keep waitin’.

  Your paisley tux jacket wasn’t that warm, by the way. You might wanna tell the woman at Bonardi’s Tuxedo Shop that ’cuz knock knock . . . this is New England, not Southern Florida! What’s next? They gonna start pairin’ their tuxedoes with flip-flops?! This town can’t even make their formalwear the right way. Jesus!

  Hate to break it to ya, but Christopher Patrick Caparelli and I are officially back together! And when you see me in the hallways or at dress rehearsal, don’t look at my finger unless you’re fix’n to go blind! I’ve a polished claddagh ring on it, and oh man, does it bounce light, Matt! It’s 14-karat gold, so yeah, when polished, it’s wicked friggin’ shiny!!

  And one teensy-weensy favor, Matt . . . don’t reference my stories back to me. “Uh, is it Timmy or Tommy?” Timmy. Timmy Garabino. You’re remindin’ me of Heather Gould. Years ago, in an effort for me to like her, she was like, “Hey, Tara. Remember when you worked at TCBY and that hot guy, Eli Spencer, always flirted with you and you always gave him free yogurt?” Uh, yeah, Heather. I remember. Wanna know how I remember? ’Cuz it happened TO ME, Lady! Not to you. Referencin’ other people’s stories back to them is somethin’ I shoulda warned you about in 1991. It’s trite, Matt.

  Look at you goin’ to NYU Summer Theater School! I’m always wary of places that happen to have a slot open super last minute, as it’s usually a sign of vacancy, like if I was travelin’ and in a jam, I would never stay at the hotel that happened to have an open room, ya know? Are you eating at the restaurant that HAS a table on a Saturday night? You probably are, but not this girl!

  Is NYU Summer Theater School even ranked?

  Ya know what, though, it’ll be wicked good for you. You need the acting experience for sure.

  Opening night can’t come fast enough!!

  Tara “Going to Actual College

  Not Summer Camp College” Murphy

  Dear Tara,

  Are you okay? Your note seemed a bit abrasive. Not even one j to the k. I’ll reread it, but it seemed like you’re mad that I’m going to NYU even though I know that I must be wrong because you flat-out rejected their acceptance. Right? Did you know Stacey’s aunt and uncle are the heads of admissions there? You must have known that, right?

  Best,

  Matt

  Matt!

  Yeah, of course I knew that one of MY closest friends’ aunt and uncle were the goddamn heads of admissions at NYU! Have you met me?

  Gotta run . . . I have some original songs to write.

  Tara

  Hello Stefanie,

  Hi there. How are you? I hope all is wonderful in your multifaceted world. Everything is, as per usual, phenomenal in mine. Sooo close to gettin’ outta here—not that I’m antsy, ’cuz I’m not. I’m wicked calm.

  I have such a random question that literally just popped into my head out of the blue for no reason whatsoever, but did you know that our own Stacey Simon’s aunt and uncle are the heads of admissions at NYU? I know . . . so random and who cares AT ALL, but did you know that?

  Just get back to me on that as soon as you can, but there’s no rush.

  Love,

  Tara

  Tara,

  They are? I had no idea. But we both know Stacey is so private. Such a small world, though. Of all places to be the heads of admissions . . . NYU? Wow! Are you sure they are? I mea
n, it does make sense, considering she told you years ago that she had an aunt and uncle who lived in the West Village and she even offered to hook you up with them if you ever moved to New York. Huh. I would say, “Are you okay?” but you got into THREE COLLEGES! So I know you are okay.

  Love ya,

  Stef

  Stef,

  Yeah, love ya too. Love ya too. And I’m sooooooo okay!! Almost no one gets into THREE COLLEGES in ONE DAY! Weird that Stacey never mentioned the NYU thingamajig, don’t ya think? ’Cuz she, like, knew it was (at one time) my first choice, ya know? I mean, whatever . . . not that I care.

  Oh, Christopher and I are a Supercouple again! And I did take the ring back, and I think before when I thought it turned my finger green it was just marker from my Month-At-A-Glance (you know how I color code everything in it), so it’s definitely real gold. I was positive of that, but you know markers, Stef . . . they are prone to changin’ the color of things. Even fingers (tee-hee, tee-hee).

  I’m just gonna see if I can’t meet up with Stace in F Hall between fifth and sixth periods just to calmly inquire about this whole silly, inconsequential NYU junk. It’s all so trivial (pursuit . . I said it first), but hey . . . dear friends can ask dear friends about things, ya know? DYKWIM?

  Hearts and Stars,

  Tara

  Tara,

  Maybe don’t even bother asking Stacey, right? Why even get into that? As you said yourself, “Who cares?” and it’s “inconsequential.” I say forget about it. Your opening night is right around the corner!! I can’t wait to be front and center watching my superstar best friend in action!! So, yeah . . . my advice . . . just leave it alone.