The next few years of high school seemed to go by in a flash. Before we knew it we had moved on from those school days, and everyone was headed their separate ways.
Cyndi and Chad had become a great couple. They became the homecoming king and queen, and then prom king and queen. They were inseparable. Whenever you saw one the other was close behind. It got to the point that they even tried to schedule their classes together. If they were not in a classes together, you would fine one of them in the register's office changing their classes. By the end even the school would put them together before either one of them asked. So it was no surprise that they devised to go to the same college. They finally settled on USC, and even made sure their dorm rooms were close.
The final few years of high school seemed rough for Ralph. He hated seeing Cyndi and Chad together. He would come late to school, and rush out when classes were over. He even spent lunch out back with the Stoners. Saying he couldn't handle the fact that Cyndi wanted nothing to do with him. She would not even acknowledge him when he said hi.
The more time Ralph spent with the Stoners, the worst his grades got. So when it came time for college acceptance letters, he was not accepted at any of the major schools he wanted to go to. He only got accepted at one of the colleges he applied for. When we learned what school, I almost fell over with shock. He was going to USC also. How would that situation work out for any of them? He was a mess already, and I could just guess what he would be like away from home with those two around him all the time.
So the day before graduation, at the practice ceremony, I took him aside and started explaining my feelings to him.
“How are you going to function, when you can't even stand to see them walking down the street?”, I asked.
“I've it all figured out. I am going to stay in a different dorm then them, and I'll make sure my classes are always on the other side of the campus. Don't worry about me. I'll be just fine.” He told me, and then walked away with a grin on his face.
I could I not worry about him. He was my long time friend, and I wanted to help him the bast way I could, but I realized he was just going to have to work this out himself. I just hoped one day that he realized that he could go on with his life without her in it. He was a great guy when he was not high, and I day he would find the perfect girl for him. I was just hoping he went straight, and could live without the pot. I saw so much potential for him in the future, but the way he had been going lately, he would never achieve his dream. I struggled with the fact that I never told his parents about the drugs. I just felt it was not my place to tell them. I was so wrong about this, and still regrets not speaking up when I could.
I decided to stay in town and help Joan with her kids. She was a single mother now after her husband had died in a car crash. She had been struggling with all her responsibilities since the day he was killed. Working full time, and raising two small kids on your own is a hard job. I was sorry she had to do it, but she was probably better off in the long run.
Joan had literally married the guy next door, Chris. They had been friends for years, and started dating in high school. It was no surprise they got married right after high school. Two weeks after school to be exact. They had a great life together until he turned twenty-one, and could buy alcohol himself. After that he started drinking all the time. Some say it was the stress of life getting to him. Others say he could not handle that his life turned out the way it did. To me he had a great life. He was working, had a home, a lovely wife, and two great little kids. Lots of people would be happy about this. I think he just liked to drink, and boy did he drink. First it started off just a beer at home after work. Then it became him drinking every Friday night. After awhile he would be spending his whole paycheck at the bar before he even made home on pay days. The bartender knew Joan's phone number by heart. She knew the minute the phone rang late at night, that she had to drive down to the bar to pick him up. Then came the Superbowl party. Where everyone was too drunk and having to much of a good time, to notice him get behind the wheel and drive away. He had gotten in his cat without a care in the world. His friends stopped him from driving away, but he convinced them that he was fine. With a wave he drove out of their sight, never to be seen by them again.
Witnesses to the accident said he was driving way to fast when he came around the mountain side. Chad suddenly swerved to avoid hitting the mountain, but he hit the guard rail instead and flew over the side. Bursting into flames on impact. Police identified him by the dental records.
At the closed casket funeral, lots of his friend stood up and talked about his school years. Talking about how he was a great guy. Everyone talked about he was kind and considerate. Not that he had spent the last few years as an abusive drunk. I think everyone preferred it that way.
That night Joan heard the door bell ring instead of the phone. The officer swears that she already knew he was dead before he could say a word, because as soon as she opened that door she collapsed crying. As the officer tried to help her to the couch, she kept asking if he had killed anyone else. I figured she knew that she would get that door knock at sometime and she was just praying that he would not kill anyone else.
So I turned down the scholarship at UCLA, and moved in with Joan. I attended the local college, and took classes when I could. My priorities were getting the kids ready for school, working, and school. In that order. I admit it was not the life an eighteen year old wanted, but I choose it anyway. I was happy with this life, and would not change it for the world. Even if it did take me longer to graduate college then most people, at least I was living the life I think I was meant to live.