Louis: Don't accept all this death and then justify it. It is wrong! Your friends should be alive...they should be enjoying dinner, and arguing with their kids, just like you are.
Jack: What do you know about it? Who the hell are you to say that?!
Louis: [pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket] You see this, man? This is my draft notice. In two weeks, I can go to jail, I can go to Canada or, I can go get shot, full of holes, like your friend Brian Cooper. You keep thinking the way you do, Mr. Arnold, and these two [points to Kevin and Wayne] will be next. And I just hope that's what they want.

Narrator: And so Winnie and I had our one slow dance after all. But things wouldn't be the same between us. We were getting older. And whether we wanted it or not, the Lisa Berlinis and the Kirk McCrays were changing us by the minute. All we could do was close our eyes and wish that the slow song would never end.
Season 2

Narrator: And suddenly I got this funny feeling. Maybe I was blowing this whole thing out of proportion. I mean, Lisa wasn't going to laugh at me. And anyway, what if she did? Did it really matter? And that's when I knew what I had to do. I just had to pick up the phone... and call her.

Narrator: And then sometimes, you knew you shouldn't do it, but you just couldn't help yourself. You gave him lip. I guess we really didn't understand why he was so hard on us sometimes. Because sometimes, and I remember these times so distinctly, my dad could be great. He could be so much fun. You never wanted that feeling to end. And then, for some reason, it always would.

Narrator: It was the first kiss for both of us. We never really talked about it afterward, but I think about the events of that day again and again, and somehow I know that Winnie does too. Whenever some blowhard starts talking about the anonymity of the suburbs, or the mindlessness of the TV generation. Because we know that inside each one of those identical boxes, with its Dodge parked out front, and its white bread on the table, and its TV set glowing blue in the falling dusk, there were people with stories. There were families bound together in the pain and the struggle of love. There were moments that made us cry with laughter. And there were moments, like that one, of sorrow and wonder.

Narrator: Maybe we both realized that growing up doesn't always have to be a straight line, but a series of advances and retreats. Maybe we just felt like swinging. But whatever it was, Winnie and I made an unspoken pact that day to stay kids for a little while longer.

Narrator: Nineteen-sixty-eight...I was twelve years old. A lot happened that year. Dennis McLain won thirty-one games..."The Mod Squad" hit the air...And I graduated from Hillcrest Elementary, and entered junior high school. But we'll get to that. There's no pretty way to put this...I grew up in the suburbs. I guess most people think of the suburb as a place with all the disadvantages of the city, and none of the advantages of the country. And vice versa. But, in a way, those really were the wonder years for us there in the suburbs. It was kind of a golden age for kids.

Narrator: October seventeenth, nineteen-sixty eight. I had assumed my standard homeroom position, drooling in the general direction of Lisa Berlini. But today... things were different between Lisa and me. You see, the night before... we'd spent very close to four complete minutes talking to each other on the telephone. Our relationship was entering the fast lane of the seventh-grade social scene and it was up to me to keep the ball rolling.

Narrator: That night my father stood there, looking up at the sky the way he always did. But suddenly I realized I wasn't afraid of him in quite the same way anymore. The funny thing is, I felt like I lost something.

Narrator: There are very few things in life as purely terrifying as calling a twelve-year-old girl on the telephone. Especially a really cute twelve-year-old girl.

Narrator: Who was right, and who was wrong? Well, I'm supposed to be an adult now, and I still can't completely figure that one out. But at some point, late at night, near sleep, the ideas and the disagreements sort of dissolve, and you're just left with the people. And people were no different then, as they've always been. And always will be. Young girls get their hearts broken. Men and women suffer alone, over the choices they've made. And young boys, full of confusion... full of fear... full of love and courage... grow up stealthily in their sleep.

[Paul is holding Everything You Wanted to Know About Sex]
Narrator: I had known Paul since he was 36 hours old, and never before had I seen such fire in his eyes.
Paul: [whispering] Buy these books and act casual. [hides the adult book in his jacket]