The Spectacular Now

by Tim Tharp

“I got a nice car. I got a big dick. Why don’t nobody love me?”

but my theory is that boredom is only for boring people with no imagination.

Sutter, I say to myself, you cannot disappoint this girl.

“No, I don’t want that. But I don’t want just Thursday afternoons either. I don’t want just moments. I want a whole life.” “Cassidy, don’t you know—life is made out of Thursday afternoons. You just keep having them one after the other and let everything else take care of itself.”

“You really are magic, Sutter. And I wish that was enough. I really do.” I want to tell her it is. I want to swear to the king of the king of the kings it’s enough. But this afternoon the magic has all run out.

“Just wait. Someone’s going to come along, someone you never expected, someone who needs you because you’re you.”

“You’re not a bad guy, Sutter. You’re a good guy. You just don’t have a real firm grasp on the concept of consequences.”

These are my people. We’re all dressed up and celebrating our common bond—youth. That’s what the prom is—St. Patrick’s Day for the young. Only we’re not toasting shamrocks or chasing snakes out of Ireland. We’re toasting the chlorophyll rising in our bodies, catching the energy from the universe. Nobody’s ever been young like we are right at this moment. We’re the Faster-than-the-Speed-of-Light Generation.

“I can’t dance like Cassidy,” she says. “Yeah, but you dance like Aimee. And that’s perfect.”