Adult Adam: [v.o.] Back in the '80s, high school was a tricky place for me. I didn't always enjoy the acceptance of my classmates, or the teachers, or the principal, or the building. But I had applied to my dream school with my dream girl, and our envelopes from NYU had arrived.
Brea: Nervous?
Adam: No. I'm cool as a cucumber that's been hot-brined and barrel-aged for maximum flavor. I'm your special pickle, baby.
Brea: Just part of the charm of sharing this moment with your family instead of my own.
Beverly: Pish-posh, Brea. Your mother's divorced. She's got bigger fish to fry.