Chapter 65: ‘... But Social’

Saturday, February 16, 1985

We went out to the post office in the late morning (it closed at one) and submitted our passport applications. Since the fee to ‘expedite’ them was low, we went ahead and paid it. No sense risking a trip being impacted because a passport arrived a bit too late when we could pay a bit extra now as insurance.

Cammie and Mel were unlikely to use theirs anytime soon, but they would have them. Better prepared than sad!

Aside from that, we spent most of the day on various things around the house. In the late afternoon, we went out to dinner at a Chinese buffet. It turned out to be pretty good, though nowhere near as good as Ms. Lin’s. We’d have to try to get back to her place on some future trip to Houston.

It was about a fifteen-minute drive from the restaurant to the theater. That gave Paige, Jas, Cammie, and Mel time to press Ang and me for hints about the movie. Paige, in particular, was a trifle pushy, albeit in an endearing way.

The most we gave them was ‘can you describe’ (just that, no ‘ruckus’) and that they would all appreciate the phrase ‘demented and sad’ when they heard it in context.

That caused growling from them, but it was the sort of playful growling we’d gotten used to. There was no point in spoiling the movie when we were this close to seeing it.

Honestly, I was a bit unsure of how wise it’d been for me to nudge them to read ‘The Princess Bride’. It’s not that I thought it would spoil the movie, but everyone’s heard (and probably said) the phrase ‘the book was better.’ I didn’t think it applied there, but there were differences, and some people might think the book was better.

We purchased our usual: a medium popcorn and a diet soda per couple. Angie and Mel carried theirs to our seats while the others went to the restroom, then joined them. I watched over the snacks until everyone was settled in for the movie.

As with many of the movies I’d ‘seen again for the first time,’ ‘The Breakfast Club’ held up well after all these years. I’d probably last seen it all the way through around somewhere in the mid-2010s, when we showed it to the kids. They’d really liked it, and said it felt like the kids in the movie weren’t all that different from their peers.

Judging from the initial comments as we headed out, the girls all loved it, too.

Once we were in the car, Mel said, “So, that’s Debate, right? ‘Demented and sad, but social?’”

I chuckled and said, “Not in my opinion, but I’m sure many of the kids felt like that.”

“It fits!” Cammie said, grinning.

“That was Chicago, right, Ang?” Paige said.

“Yes,” she said. “None of it was filmed at my school, but most of it was at Glenbrook North, which I kinda knew.”

“We’ve debated people from there, too,” Cammie said, nodding.

“So, what was your favorite part?” Paige said. “Mine was probably the whole falling-out-of-the-ceiling ‘can you describe the ruckus?’ thing. Also, that’s a lie...”

She giggled a bit, then continued, saying, “I liked that, but it’s not my favorite part. I’m torn between the whole sushi thing and the part where they’re comparing parents. Well, those parts together.”

Cammie sighed, and said, “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Paige blushed and quickly said, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean...”

Cammie shook her head, smiling.

“No. I mean, don’t worry. I didn’t think you did. Mine aren’t like those, either. They suck, but not like the ones in the movie. The movie ones are more like Mel’s. Well, some of them. Not the violent ones! Hers are more the ones that have this image of their perfect kids and it’s hard as hell to get them to bend on it.”

Mel nodded, and said, “Yeah. That was one of my favorite parts. It kinda explains a lot. Mark and Morty aren’t quite what they wanted, and I think they still don’t know what to make of both of them being with Emily. It’s weird, and my parents don’t do well with ‘weird.’ Now I’m ‘different,’ maybe ‘strange’...”

“Or ‘queer.’ ‘Queer’ is a good word,” Angie said. “Okay, maybe not in 1985, but people are going to take it back really soon and it’ll be very good.”

Mel chuckled, and said, “If you say so! Anyway, it’s just ... we’re actually better than they imagined. Better grades, better scholarships, and — honestly — better girlfriends. It’s just that we’re nothing like what they think they wanted, and it’s been a struggle for them to accept that we’re who we are.”

“I made it clear I was weird, and totally not perfect, early on,” Paige said, grinning.

“We all noticed,” Jas said, grinning.

“Meanwhile, yours, Jas ... they’re just, like, perfect. And then, well, no parents could withstand Angie and Steve working together,” Mel said.

Angie nodded, and said, “Plus, we both genuinely loved Mom and Dad when we came back. That, and we both had stuff to ‘make up’ to them, even if these will never know that. My sucky boyfriend, Steve’s sucky wife.”

“Yeah,” I said. “All of that.”

“Anyway, we’re sidetracked,” Cammie said. “My favorite was just the whole message. Partly the ‘you really don’t know who the other kids in your school are’ thing, which is so true! I never would’ve imagined Jess was who she was. Nor Cal or Andy, either, if we hadn’t been close to them. Or ... a lot of people. The other thing is that people are better off being themselves. Duh, right? But it was really well done.”

“My favorite part was something that didn’t happen,” Jas said. “I mean, the one — Allison — she says, ‘When you grow up, your heart dies.’ And, see, we’ve got two perfect examples where that didn’t happen! That makes me really happy, because it means we can all do that.”

“That’s really good,” Paige said.

Angie sighed, but then smiled.

“I think my heart did die. Not when I did, I mean. The first two years in prison, though ... fuck. Those were bad.”

Paige gave her a tight hug.

“Don’t worry,” Angie said. “I’m not upset. That’s what I needed. I wouldn’t be who I am now if I hadn’t been that girl then.”

“My heart didn’t die,” I said. “There were times when I actually wished it would.”

“But now we’re all happy that it didn’t,” Jas said.

“Definitely!” Cammie said.

“It was a really fucking great movie,” Paige said. “Seriously, none of those kids are exactly anyone I know, but if you blend them together, they’re, like, real kids. At least, real kids who are smart and quick with a great line, but that’s everyone we know.”

Angie giggled.

“So true!”

When we got home, I called Jess. I got her British roommate again, and we spent a few minutes trading jokes before she put the phone down. Jess picked up after a couple of minutes.

“How are you?” I said.

“Exhausted!” she said. “That’s a good thing, but it’s also ... I want to strangle some of the other girls! I’m not surprised, I guess, but the claws are out now. They have to be ‘better,’ which means I have to be ‘worse.’ I’m a jerk for not telling them, or I’ve ‘got a big head,’ or I’m a ‘snob,’ or ... well, whatever. Not that I hear it from them. It’s Kylie telling me that Becca says I’m full of myself, and Becca telling me that she loves me but May hates my guts, while May is all smiles but says Kylie thinks I slept my way into the part.”

“That’s awful,” I said.

“It’s what I expected, honestly, but I’m disappointed all the same. It’ll be fine, though. Just girls being girls!”

“I’m glad the girls I live with aren’t doing that.”

“You live with some really unusual girls!” she said, chuckling. “But, then, that’s why you live with them.”

“True enough,” I said.

“Anyway, it’s fine. Mom and Dad are thrilled. Steffie screamed in my ear! I heard from some of the cheer girls, too, including some I hadn’t heard from since leaving Memorial. My agent is still thrilled and says she’s getting some nibbles. Nothing big yet, but I’m hopeful. Honestly, I don’t want anything this semester, really. I’d like to get a year of college under my belt before doing anything big.”

“Makes sense,” I said. “I haven’t talked to Steffie yet, but I expected that reaction.”

“She’s predicting great things. I’m trying to keep from buying into my own hype too much.”

“Somehow, I think you can manage that.”

“Yeah,” she said. “But if I ever need a reality check, I know the house to call.”

“We’re here to help!” I said.

She giggled, then said, “Love you, friend! Now, put that girlfriend of yours on!”

“Love you, too,” I said, then shouted, “Jas! Phone!”

“Coming!” she called.

Jess talked to everyone before hanging up. Even Mel, who knew her the least well. We all agreed that she sounded like herself. One guest starring role on ‘Family Ties’ wouldn’t define her life, of course, nor even change it by itself, but it might be a springboard for more.

We all hoped it would. I had a suspicion that, sooner or later, I would watch her ‘take over’ some role I knew well. That would be weird. It would also be special and amazing to witness.

Sunday, February 17, 1985

The first wave of exams and papers were coming up in a couple of weeks, so we spent much of the day doing homework, figuring out topics and outlines, and things of that sort. Carl, Hank, and Paul weren’t coming over until three, so I had the rest of the day to get other things done.

Besides homework, though, one subject had become very pressing. It was so pressing that we all sat down and talked about it for a bit.

That subject was Spring Break. It was coming up in just three weeks and none of us had made any travel plans. The last date to reserve trips through the university was early next week, and some places would be fully booked already.

Cammie and Mel, of course, were the easy ones. They weren’t going anywhere this year. They had the least money, didn’t want to borrow any, definitely didn’t want us just giving them money, and weren’t about to go to Houston. Mel’s parents weren’t a good option for funding just yet, either.

If they’d really wanted to go somewhere, we’d have found a way to make it happen, but Cammie was still very much a homebody. This was her home, and simply being comfortable at home was a luxury for her. That would change (it would have to!) but it certainly didn’t have to change this year. It’d been less than a year since Cammie’s parents changed things drastically over the course of a few hours, after all.

Angie and Paige and Jas and I were the difficult ones, but we quickly decided that we didn’t want to do things together this time. We’d done that, and we would do that again — many times, most likely! — but this Spring Break was about the couples.

Angie and Paige put their heads together and had a plan within an hour. They were going to New Orleans. They would likely stay somewhere relatively inexpensive (our favorite place in the Garden District might fit that, though), take the streetcars all over town, eat beignets, drink coffee, eat muffalettas and jambalaya and étouffée and all manner of New Orleans delicacies, and just enjoy the time together.

I was pretty sure they would see Curtis and Marsha, plus Marshall, but that wasn’t the point. The city was the point. They both liked it, it was close enough, and there was plenty to do there.

Jas and I kicked around a bunch of ideas. We quickly rejected using her parents’ $2000 gift. That would fund us for much more than a week, and we felt it was best used for something more significant than Spring Break.

We also rejected the trips A&M was advertising. New York sounded great, but seeing it with a herd of other Aggies on some planned schedule didn’t. When we finally tackled The Big Apple, we wanted it to be ‘us,’ whether that meant two of us or four of us. Or, perhaps, a bit of both.

The second trip, a ski trip to Telluride, was similar. Skiing might be fun, but we’d done the long bus ride and group activities.

The third offering was Daytona Beach, which had roughly the same problems as the others. Neither of us would mind a beach trip (though Jas was more enthusiastic than I was, overall), but Daytona Beach, as well as the Texas Gulf Coast beaches, would be crammed full of as many college students as would fit. We briefly discussed Hawaii, but that would require either using the Nguyens’ gift or somehow explaining away how we could afford it. Neither sounded like a good idea.