All speaking characters belong to Aaron Sorkin, John Wells Productions, Warner Bros., & NBC. The title's from Don Henley. Standard disclaimers apply. Please send feedback.
The End Of The Innocence
Violet & Cinnamon
Jed
I was seventeen.
Yes, it was before I met your mother. Don't give me that look. I'm trying to tell you a story. I was seventeen, and I went to high school with this radiantly lovely girl. Long brown hair, big smile, used to always wear saddle shoes. We were both on the debate team, the year I was a senior and she was a junior. It took me a month to work up the nerve to walk her home from school.
Victoria Paterson.
Her friends all called her Vicky, but she was Victoria to me. And she called me Josiah. We were mature, you know, in the way that only teenagers can be. We used to talk about important things, big wide ideas. We'd read the same books -- sometimes over each other's shoulders -- and have these long conversations about symbolic meaning. We'd talk politics and religion and philosophy, when other kids were talking about monster movies. And she was so smart. Not as smart as your mother, but smart. We had this rapport, like we were the only two people in the world who understood anything. We weren't kids, we were young adults. We had a grown-up relationship, intelligent and beautiful, and we had big plans for our lives.
During Christmas vacation that year, there was a party. Some kid's father had a cabin out in the woods, and we all drove out there. We drank some beer -- why are you looking at me like that? We drank some beer, and we were dancing and celebrating because we were out of school, and... there were bedrooms upstairs. We found an empty one, and nature took its course. We thought it was this perfect moment, because we were in love, right? We were giving ourselves to each other. We were going to be together forever.
The thing was, after that, we didn't talk anymore. We didn't read together. We didn't talk about the government, or current events, or God, or beauty. Our conversations disappeared. We weren't Josiah and Victoria who were in love anymore. We were Jed and Vicky who had sex. To the exclusion of everything else. We lost track of everything that had brought us together -- all we had left was hormones. We were so busy with our bodies that we forgot about our hearts and minds.
We broke up in the spring. The last couple of months, it was awkward every time I passed her in the halls at school. I was so relieved that I was going away at the end of the year. And I made up my mind right then that I was never going to confuse sex and love again. I was going to dedicate myself to doing good, to God. It's why I picked Notre Dame.
And that's my point; that's what you have to remember. Desire is strong, sometimes too strong. But love is so much more, and so much more important. Don't get the two mixed up.
I believe you. Yes. And I only want the best -- but you're still young, honey. All I'm telling you, is take your time.
* * *
C.J.
You know, Josh, I'm still not sure this isn't sexual harassment. I could probably take this to court if I wanted to.
No, you're right. It would be more trouble than you're worth.
Fine. First lover. The answer is, there are three answers. No, not like that. I'm not going to talk about this if you're just going to laugh!
My first semester in college, the very first class I had, there was this guy. This perfect guy. Dark hair, pretty eyes, taller than me. I was smitten on sight. His name was Nate. Nathan Brentano. God, I tried so hard to get him to notice me. I used to raise my hand every two minutes in class -- okay, okay, I might have done that anyway, but I did, and it worked. He asked me to dinner. I was so nervous I could barely eat anything. But Nate was charming and gorgeous and he wanted my phone number, and I didn't think life could get any better.
We went out for around two weeks, and things got hot and heavy pretty quickly. I was a good Catholic girl -- I said I wasn't going to talk about this if you laugh at me. Are you finished? Okay. Good. Hard as it is to believe now, I was, and I hadn't gone all the way. I wanted to, but I didn't feel comfortable yet.
Well, Nate pushed a little, and I told him that. He dumped me on the spot. "Virgins are too complicated," those were his words. I cried my eyes out. Then two weeks later my roommate threw a party, and this older guy, Ray -- I forget his last name -- asked if I wanted to go for a drive. And I said yes.
I didn't feel really bad about it, that night. I was glad to have it over with. Mostly, I felt vindicated -- so there, you know, I can do that too. I didn't care much that it wasn't romantic, but it wasn't even fun. It wasn't exciting. It just felt stupid and wrong, which I guess it was. I was still miserable about Nate, and I was disappointed in sex in general. After all that build-up, you know?
I sulked for a while, and I never did return Ray's phone calls. Not that there were very many. I just went to class and went home and studied and didn't have a social life for a couple months. And then one day I looked at myself in the mirror and decided to stop being dumb. I got let down. That didn't mean I couldn't try again. And I figured sex ought to be better than that, and maybe Ray just didn't know what he was doing.
I met Kevin a few weeks later. We weren't very serious. He was cute, and stupid, and we had nothing to talk about, but we had a lot of fun screwing around. A lot of fun. I was right, by the way. Ray didn't know what he was doing.
Three answers to your question, Josh. I hope you're satisfied. Stop smirking. I could still sue your ass.
* * *
Sam
Chrystie-with-a-'y'. That was how she introduced herself. I never did know her last name.
Now why would you say that, C.J.? I'm not like that. I don't have one-night stands. Well, okay, that time. But no, I wasn't using her. She was using me.
It was a clear Friday night in June, and everything that happened was miraculous, starting with the car. A red Camaro. Poetry on wheels. It belonged to my best friend Carlos' older brother. Carlos was asking to borrow it from the day he got his license. I don't know how he finally talked him into it -- he probably bribed him -- but that night, he got the keys. For a while, we drove around aimlessly, just letting the wind blow through our hair. What's that supposed to mean? Of course we had a lot of hair. It was the 80s.
Eventually, we started looking for something to do. The next amazing thing was that we found the party. There was a sign out front of this house for some UCLA fraternity. We were so high because of the Camaro that we decided to crash, right there on the spot. The party, I mean. Not the car.
Of course, they were all in college. They had to know right away that we were way too young to be there. It was just more good luck that no one said anything. Someone handed us beers, people were passing a joint around -- what? The door's closed, C.J. It's not like we're in the Press Room. There was music playing, and we were having the best night of our lives. And then the blonde came up to us. She was easily five years older than me. She just glowed. Chrystie-with-a-'y'.
She put her hands on my chest and kind of pulled me out to dance with her. Before long I was holding her close, and I could smell her hair. She smelled like orange flowers. I just wanted to breathe it in. I was amazed when she started to kiss me. I kissed her back, and then she took my hand and led me out of the room.
We went into the bathroom, and she started to take her clothes off. I must have been staring at her. She gave me this huge glowing smile, and slipped her arms around my neck, and, well, there we were, leaning up against the sink. It was incredible. I could hardly believe I was there, with an actual girl, actually doing that.
She straightened herself up, when we were done, and left. I never saw her again. I looked at myself in the mirror and could barely believe it. It was like every adolescent boy's favorite dream. I was flying. When I went back out to the party, Carlos had finished his beer and mine and God knows what else. I think some of the frat guys were trying to see how drunk they could get him. I had to drive us home. He threw up all over the car, and his brother nearly killed us both.
But that didn't matter. What mattered was that perfect night, that car, that beautiful girl. It was... it was like a miracle.
* * *
Leo
What the hell were you thinking, Toby? That was just about the most useless....
Don't you think I know how you feel about this? I know this is one of those issues you get passionate about. You have to think about the bigger picture. Passion doesn't mean you won't want to take back what you've done.
Let me tell you something. When I was a kid, I was a real hothead. I mean, you couldn't talk to me. I was going to do what I wanted and nobody was going to stop me. So, I was just out of high school. My mother wasn't thrilled when I enlisted, but that was nothing compared to my girlfriend. Jenny was convinced I'd gone out of my mind. She yelled at me for three days straight, but I wasn't about to listen.
I asked her to marry me, you know, before I left for boot camp. Some kind of crazy romantic notion I probably picked up from the movies. Well, she wasn't so angry at me that she didn't say yes, but she had the practical sense to insist on waiting until I got back. She told me there was no way she was going to give herself up to someone who was going off to risk his neck on the other side of the world. Yeah, I was pissed off. But what could I do? I was out of town two days later.
We had this layover in Japan. Seventy-two hours. You know, the military being what it is, the first thing we looked for was beer and the second thing we looked for was girls. Couple of guys in my unit had heard some things, and we found them. Not girls. Women.
She couldn't have been more than fifteen years old. Younger than me, but she seemed a lot older. It wasn't just makeup, either; it was experience. She was experienced. And she asked for the money up front. I thought about Jenny for a second, but you know, I was still pissed at her. I figured she didn't give a damn about me. And I was a horny, passionate teenage boy, so I thought, the hell with it. And I had no experience at all, so it was over pretty fast.
At the time, I thought it was worth it. Like any stupid kid, I was proud of myself.
When I got home -- well, I'd grown up a lot by then. When I got home, I saw Jenny again. She was so beautiful, and so understanding. I looked at her and I felt rotten about what I'd done. That time could've been worth remembering, but it wasn't. I threw it away. I've always kind of regretted that.
That's what you have to get through your head, Toby. No matter how much you care about something, how much you want something to happen -- there's a point where you shouldn't push it when the time isn't right. And you ought to know that by now. We're going to rip this open someday. That day isn't here yet, but it's coming.
Go out there and get back to work.
* * *
Josh
What? Sorry, I was thinking. There had to be a time when things were simpler than this, you know?
I don't know what I mean. I'm just saying. I used to be innocent. I did. I did! And then there was this girl.
Marie Slade. We started going out sophomore year of high school, and like any red-blooded American male, I wanted to get her into bed. We used to fool around a lot. We made out until our lips were chapped, but that was all she'd let me do. I tried to get mad at her, but I never could. It was frustrating, but she was fun to be around. She had this bizarre sense of humor, and she had a brain. And a body that wouldn't quit. Did I mention that? Marie Slade was the kind of girl old guys whistle at when she crosses the street.
To be honest, I was never sure she really liked me. She was this redheaded goddess, right? I was smart, and I had my unconventional good looks -- don't even say it, Donna -- but she could've picked any guy in our school. Any guy in the world, really. Girls like her were supposed to be dating college men. Marie kept saying yes when I asked her out, but she never let me get past second base. I figured she thought I wasn't good enough. It didn't stop me from trying, though.
So, junior year, our honors physics class had a field trip. We took a bus down to Coney Island. I guess we were supposed to be taking notes on the centrifugal force generated by the Cyclone or something, but nobody actually did any work. The class group split up almost right away, and Marie and I were taking a walk down the boardwalk. I bought her a pretzel. It was only March, so the beach was just about deserted. We were just strolling along, talking about school, and I guess we walked further than I thought, because pretty sure no one was around but the two of us. I was in the middle of making fun of our history teacher when she kissed me.
I don't know what it was about that day. Maybe it was the sound of the ocean. Maybe it was because it was the first day of spring. Maybe it was the pretzel. All I know is, the minute our lips met, I knew she was ready. There I was, alone on the beach with this amazing, sexy girl. Let me tell you, we had a hell of a time getting out of our clothes. I wasn't the adept, skilled man you see before you today. I did have a condom with me, though, burning a hole in my wallet since eighth grade.
Stop pretending to throw up on my carpet, please. Anyway, we got out of our clothes, and I have to say I held up my end of the - ow! Okay! Okay! So we were lying there in the sand, kind of chilly as we cooled off. I had an arm around her. She turns her head and smiles at me, and she starts to hum the song "Love Train." I swear to God. "Love Train." I just started to laugh, and right then, I was crazy in love with Marie Slade, even though I knew it wouldn't last.
The point is, I was innocent back then. Life was a lot simpler. And I guess the other point is, that's why I still like physics.
* * *
Donna
I honestly thought that Suzanne on "Designing Women" went to live with her mother in Germany. Are you sure it was Japan? Are you just saying that so you'll win the bet? Really? Okay.
There's really not a lot to tell. No, I'm not still a virgin! If that's the way you're going to be, I won't tell you at all. It's none of your busi-- okay. Thank you for apologizing.
His name was Gabriel Luevano. He was a Spanish god-man, Sam. He was just -- oh.
My best friend Casey lived two houses down from ours, and Gabriel was her cousin. He came over from Spain the Christmas I was sixteen. All he did was complain about the cold. Casey and I taught him how to ice-skate, and he taught us how to make almendrados and Spanish hot chocolate. He had an accent like Antonio Banderas and -- never mind. No, you're going to make fun of me. You promise? Okay, he would sing to me. Shut up!
Gabriel would come over with Casey just about every night, or I would go over there. We'd all watch television and listen to music, and once, Gabriel taught us a few Spanish curse words. He was just so gorgeous, and Casey told me that he thought I was pretty -- what? Thank you. Casey told me that he thought I was pretty, but he never tried anything with me.
Casey and her family came to Mass with us on Christmas Eve. I guess Christmas is a big deal in Spain because Gabriel was really looking forward to Mass. When we got there, I managed to sit between Casey and Gabriel instead of between my parents.
It was a beautiful service. The priest sang 'O Holy Night', and suddenly, Gabriel took my hand. I looked at him, and he was staring straight ahead at the priest, but his thumb was tracing circles on my hand. After that, he started coming over without Casey.
So, New Year's Eve, 1988. My parents went to a party downtown, and I had the house to myself. We had this wooden swing in the backyard, and I bundled up and planted myself out there. Around midnight, Gabriel managed to sneak out of the house. It was so clear, and the snow just sparkled. It was just so quiet and so peaceful, and he kissed me. He took off his gloves and put his hands on my face, and I knew.
It hurts for girls at first, you know. He must have been experienced because he was very gentle with me. I didn't -- you know -- but it was nice. Afterwards, he told me I was pretty.
Gabriel went back to Spain on the third, and I didn't hear from him again. He said he would write and stuff, but he never did. I was a mess, but eventually, I was able to appreciate the experience for what it was, which was lovely.
So there. Are you satisfied? And Sam? I knew it was Japan all along.
* * *
Toby
Sam, I don't want to have this conversation now. No, I don't want to have it later. Or at all. What kind of Inquisition are you conducting?
Yeah, I'll tell you. If it's the only way I'm ever going to get you out of my office. But if I start hearing about this around the bullpen, I'm going to string you up by your -- all right, then.
In junior high school, I had a job delivering newspapers. No, I wasn't born forty-five years old. I used to save up the money for bleacher seats at Yankees games. The worst part of the route was this lousy walk-up. The only subscription was on the sixth floor, and this guy was a bad tipper. Then one day, when I was thirteen, I knocked on the door and the guy didn't answer. Instead, it was this skinny kid with all this hair falling in her face. His daughter. Judith. She was waiting for the Sports section, to check the box scores. We got to be friends. Jude wasn't a girl like the kind you check out when you're thirteen. She was just this kid I played catch with sometimes.
It was the summer when we were fifteen. It was getting late, and I was supposed to be home. She walked me to my building, and then we decided that since it was dark, I should walk her back to hers. Then we just stopped to talk outside her place. We were arguing about Bobby Kennedy. Then she told me a guy from her school had asked her out. Suddenly, I got jealous, or protective, or something. I said that I'd heard about this guy, that he was a jerk -- I was making it up. And she knew it. She laughed, and she started to make fun of me. She had this way of imitating me that always got on my nerves. I started to walk away. She grabbed hold of my shirt, and she gave me a look. You know that look.
We wandered down to the basement of her building, kissing in the laundry room. I kept telling myself, "She can't be thinking what I'm thinking. Girls aren't like that." Finally, Jude blurted out, "If we're not going to do anything, let's just go get some pizza."
We wound up on top of the washing machines. It was hot and stuffy and dusty in there, and we had no idea what we were doing. We were kids, we were clumsy, and it was over pretty quickly. Then we heard someone coming down the stairs. We panicked and hid in the broom closet. We were both gasping for breath and dying of embarrassment, and we had to wait for this woman to load fourteen pounds of laundry. When we came out, we noticed she'd shoved half of our clothes in with her wash. After she stopped laughing, Jude went upstairs and stole a pair of her father's sweatpants for me to wear home. I had to sneak in and pray my mother didn't see me until I changed. I got away with that, but I caught hell for breaking my curfew.
Next week, Jude started dating that other kid. We never talked about it again; we just stayed friends, like before. She ran away to Canada with her boyfriend right after we graduated.
It's not a sweet story, Sam. Now go away. And keep your mouth shut, or I'll stuff a rubber ball in it.
* * *
Charlie
Mmm... Zoey? You awake?
No, everything's all right. I'm sorry. You can go back to sleep if you want. I'm just thinking. It's really nice here.
Yeah, I know it's just a dorm room, but it's nice. It's small, but it's warm, and it's -- well, it's like you. It's full of your personality. I like it here.
How do I feel? I don't know... can I tell you a story?
It's not a long story, I promise. One time, when I was eight years old, my mother took my sister and me to the fireworks over the Monument, on the Fourth of July. Usually she had to work that night, you know, because it gets chaotic. But Deena always wanted to go. Mom probably had to trade away her weekends for a month, but she managed to get it that year.
It was rainy all day, and Deena was sure it was going to ruin everything, but it cleared up just as the sun was going down. We were out on the Mall, and it was packed with this huge crowd. There were clumps of people everywhere, with folding chairs and coolers. We brought a blanket, and we spread it out and staked out our space and waited. I was complaining a little, because I was bored and sleepy and I kept getting bit by mosquitoes. My mom was one of those women who could shut you up with her eyes, though. One look and I knew I was upsetting her, so I shut my mouth.
You do that too, you know.
Finally, it got really dark. You could hear everybody talking, and then the sky lit up and all the talking stopped. All you could hear was the noise of the fireworks going up, and people cheering. And I wasn't tired anymore.
Wonderful. It was wonderful. Up over the Monument, all these amazing colors, and it was so loud and bright. I glanced over at Deena, and she was laughing. I looked at my mom, and she was laughing, but she was kind of crying too. I just felt like there was nowhere else I would ever want to be. I wanted to stay right on that spot forever. Everything in the world was perfect. I wasn't anywhere near happy, I was in heaven.
I'm keeping you awake, huh? Well, you asked how I feel. Fireworks on the Fourth of July. That's how I feel.
Yeah. I love you too.
Goodnight.
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