Toward the end of his senior year at Homestead, in the spring of 1972, Jobs started going out with a girl named Chrisann Brennan,
who was about his age but still a junior.
With her light brown hair, green eyes, high cheekbones, and fragile aura, she was very attractive.
She was also enduring the breakup of her parents' marriage, which made her vulnerable.
"We worked together on an animated movie, then started going out, and she became my first real girlfriend," Jobs recalled.
As Brennan later said, "Steve was kind of crazy. That's why I was attracted to him." Jobs's craziness was of the cultivated sort.
He had begun his lifelong experiments with compulsive diets, eating only fruits and vegetables, so he was as lean and tight as a whippet.
He learned to stare at people without blinking, and he perfected long silences punctuated by staccato bursts of fast talking.
This odd mix of intensity and aloofness, combined with his shoulder-length hair and scraggly beard, gave him the aura of a crazed shaman.
He oscillated between charismatic and creepy. "He shuffled around and looked half-mad," recalled Brennan. "He had a lot of angst. It was like a big darkness around him."
Jobs had begun to drop acid by then, and he turned Brennan on to it as well, in a wheat field just outside Sunnyvale.
"It was great," he recalled. "I had been listening to a lot of Bach. All of a sudden the wheat field was playing Bach.
It was the most wonderful feeling of my life up to that point. I felt like the conductor of this symphony with Bach coming through the wheat."
That summer of 1972, after his graduation, he and Brennan moved to a cabin in the hills above Los Altos.
"I'm going to go live in a cabin with Chrisann," he announced to his parents one day. His father was furious.
"No you're not," he said. "Over my dead body." They had recently fought about marijuana, and once again the younger Jobs was willful.
He just said good-bye and walked out.