Chapter 11: Xanadu

August 23, 1980

I slept late on Saturday, having little to do until the ride to the mall. Biking to the mall was annoying — late August in Houston leaves one sweaty — but it was the best alternative. I wouldn’t be able to drive for almost two years, most likely, and neither would Angie. I didn’t want to involve parents for fear that someone would realize how close this was to a group date and put a stop to it, and the study group with it. There was no direct bus. I could get there, but it would require a transfer, and be slow. Taxis were expensive and hard to explain, and this was decades before Uber. So, biking was the answer, sweaty or not.

Angie and I both biked over in grungy clothes, bringing our real clothes in backpacks, and changed at the mall. Most stores were OK if you wore a backpack, but if not, we’d hand them off. I knew some of the others were planning to do the same. Besides, if you bought anything sizable, how else would you get it home? I guessed that we’d all be more comfortable with everyone being sweaty before long, but this would’ve been a first date (if we were dating, of course) and who wants to do that all icky and sweaty?

And — money. Bring cash. Plenty of cash. No high school student would pay with a check and no store would take one if you tried. Some — the very well off — might have a parent’s credit card. Maybe. But most of us? Cash. And if you ran out, that was it. Borrow from friends or do without. No ATM, no credit card, no debit card. ATMs would show up in a few years and that would help some. But they all charged fees.

By 2pm we’d all converged on the appointed spot near the food court. The girls decided they needed to go clothes shopping. I looked at the other guys and shrugged. “So, what do y’all want to do? I’d be happy hitting a bookstore, but then, I’m a nerd.”

Everyone laughed at that. Mike piped up, “Yeah, right. You were a nerd. Were. Not a big one, but you’ve changed. I’d blame high school, but I think that fall knocked some sense into you.”

I laughed. “Funny, my parents said the same thing.”

Mike laughed, too. “Well, see. You have smart parents.”

Jimmy shifted a little. “OK, well, I’m a nerd. I know that. And I’m glad you’re including me in this because I’d never have done anything like it otherwise.”

How far could I go? Maybe far enough. “Look, enough of that. I’m a nerd. Dan’s a nerd. Hell, Andy’s on the JV and he’s a nerd, if you go by grades. Mark and Morty are practically geeks...”

“Hey!” “Hey!”

“ ... but we put up with them, anyway. The point is, be who you are. If you don’t like part of who you are, and we can help you change it, that’s what friends are for. I got tired of being chunky and being the quiet guy in class, and I started fixing it. You can, too. Just don’t screw up who you really are trying to be someone you’re not.”

Dan looked at me. “How the fuck did you get so ... together? Maybe I need to get bonked on the head.”

Andy shook his head. “Nah, I’ve been around guys with concussions. Most of them are just jerks. Confused jerks. Steve’s right, though. We’re just getting to know each other, Jimmy, which is dumb because we went to the same junior high, but you’re a cool guy. And it’s high school and we’re freshman, which means you’ve got a blank check to redefine yourself. That doesn’t happen that often, so grab it while it’s there.”

“Thanks guys. I mean it.” Jimmy did, too. That was obvious. Obvious enough that I needed to get us moving so he wouldn’t wind up embarrassed. Except that Mark, who I’d never have guessed would spot it, jumped in first.

“Y’all, I’m not up for the bookstore, but, I think we need to do something that lets Jimmy kick a little ass.” He hesitated. “The arcade at the pizza place. C’mon.”

Another thing I’d forgotten: the new pizza place had a big arcade. It was some knockoff of Chuck E. Cheese, which had yet to make it to Houston. I’d spent far too much time and too many quarters there the first go-round.

We all headed off, laughing and joking. I hung back a couple steps.

I had been friends with only a few of these people before, and those friendships had died before high school was over. Some of them I could swear I’d never even spoken to. Here we were, already becoming a group. What was this changing? Who wouldn’t be friends with them who had, before? I had no idea and no way to know. It seemed like a change for the good, but I could almost see the invisible threads of fate being shifted and reassembled into a new design. It was rather daunting.

After video games, we met up with the girls about 6. The guys had plotted and decided we were buying dinner for the girls. I’d get Candice’s, of course. Dan was buying for Angie, and, as expected, Mark and Morty decided they’d cover Emily. Jimmy made it clear he’d pick up Connie’s tab, proving some suspicions correct, which left Andy to cover Mel and Mike to cover Debbie. Neither seemed broken up about it, even if they weren’t dating. I explained the idea of studying how dating would work, which they found hilarious, and we agreed that as part of the studying we’d buy their tickets and sodas and share popcorn.

The girls had taken advantage of the stores and each had bought a few things. We told them we’d just shot aliens and such, which led to head-shaking from most of the girls. Who would waste time doing that when you could be shopping?

Candice wanted a burger, which was fine by me. We went to the burger place and looked at the options. We split two different styles of burger and one order of fries. She wanted a milkshake with two straws. That sounded cute and fun, so I ordered one. We were definitely going to study this whole dating thing.

I checked my watch as we finished dinner. About thirty minutes to the movie, giving us time for a leisurely walk there, acquisition of popcorn, and some time to settle before the movie. I rose and offered my arm. “Shall we, Miss Matthews?”

I got a blush for that, and an arm hooked through mine. “By all means, Mister Marshall.”

Dan offered his arm to Angie and she took it. That gave the idea to the others, and quickly each guy had a girl on his arm. We proceeded to the theater, getting a bunch of amused looks from other shoppers. No one seemed upset or bothered. I think we were all considered cute — for good reason.

I bought Candice’s ticket and walked her in. “Popcorn, M’lady?”

She cracked up. “I’ve got a bit of room left, sure. No soda — I’ll share yours.”

I pondered, then cued the guys. We all walked our not-dates to their seats, got them settled, and then went to get popcorn. When my wife and I had gotten along, that was her preferred way of waiting for me to purchase snacks, and it seemed like a good idea here. The girls seemed to like it. When we’d left, they were scattered. I was pretty sure they’d be in a knot when we got back.

Once we’d made our purchases, we headed back to find the girls clumped up, whispering. They separated when they spotted us. We’d all left at least a space or two. I think at least some people expected the studies to continue and explore new areas.

I settled next to Candice, arranged the popcorn and soda, then smiled. She shifted in a little (but not too close) and smiled. “I can’t believe you asked me ... well ... would have asked me,” she giggled, “or, well, you know what I mean. I figured you’d be clueless. Angie said you caught it, but Emily thought all guys our age are clueless that way.”

I smiled. “Oh, I caught it, and without Angie having to point it out. I was ... I am ... flattered. It’s a privilege to imagine being able to take you on a date.” I winked. “This way, if I ever do, we’ll have practice.”

She smiled, looking up at me. “I didn’t know you were funny. You know, in junior high. Or when Angie got here, and we started hanging out. You were so shy and quiet. What changed?”

“I smacked my head. Hard.” She giggled again. I liked her giggle. “No, really, that’s not it, but it’s part of it. I guess, two things. I had time to think about who my friends were and who they should be, and I had time to realize life could be short and if you don’t at least try to reach what you want, you’ll just let it stay out of reach.”