Chapter 43: Reaching Out

January 11, 1981

A bit into study group, before anyone headed off for naps, I started a discussion.

“Hey y’all! I’ve got a question for you.”

“Trying to study Spanish here!”

“Chemistry!”

“Shush! I want to do this, sometimes. Throw out a topic and see what people think. This one is one that’s come up at least twice. If y’all were paying attention at New Year’s, you know what it is.”

“Um. Alcohol?”

“OK, that fits. But no.”

Angie waved her hand. No, I hadn’t prepped her.

“Gay people!”

I grinned. “Angie gets the prize. And no, I didn’t tell beforehand.”

“So, what about gay people?” Sarah asked. I knew she was cool with it. Good.

“I had a thought. Suppose Susan and Kimmie were our age instead of their age. At Memorial instead of Vanderbilt. They’re super-smart, seemed pleasant, nice, all that. Would you be comfortable with them in study group?”

Several people looked thoughtful. Sarah grinned. “Well, duh, for Mike and me.” Mike nodded along with that.

Emily giggled. “Um ... our relationship isn’t so conventional, right? How could I get annoyed with someone else doing something unconventional? I think it’d be fine.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t care,” Mark said.

Morty nodded. “Live and let live, right? I’m good with it. I dunno what the parents would think, but I’d be fine. We’d be fine.”

Angie grinned. “You know I’m fine, given the company.”

Connie nudged Jimmy, who said, “My parents think it’s not OK, but I think it’s fine. I mean, I know two kids at school. They’re quiet about it. You know. Because graffiti and jokes and all that. I ... um ... found out in junior high. By accident. I think ... um ... well, I read a lot, and it’s come up in books. Ones my parents wouldn’t like, but we all know how that goes.”

Everyone nodded. I’d been pretty sure I wasn’t the only one who read ‘inappropriate’ books.

Connie said, “Mine are weird about it. I don’t even know. I think they have different standards based on whether it’s guys and girls and on how they act. Look, I hate bigots for obvious reasons. I don’t want to be a bigot myself! And I talked to Susan and Kimmie and they’re great. They saw me the way you all see me.”

Nancy hesitated. “OK, so, I’m the only single girl. I ... well. I’ve ... um. I had a girl hit on me.” She blushed considerably. “I don’t mean us teasing, Emily.” That got Mark and Morty’s attention; they were going to ask her about that. “But I turned her down and it was fine. I think...” She stopped and bit her lip. “OK, I was going to say something dumb. I was going to say I’d be uncomfortable if it was a girl and she was hitting on me. But that’s ... I mean ... if a guy was hitting on me and wouldn’t stop, I’d be just as uncomfortable. It’s not that she’s a she, it’s someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Debbie bit her lip. “I ... I guess. That makes sense, Nancy. If they were OK with a polite no, well...” Her eyes flitted around the group. “Yeah, I’d be OK with it.”

Marcus looked at Debbie. He seemed surprised by her reply. I’d pegged him as the most hesitant. “I um ... it ... weirds me out a little? But I guess not that much, especially if they’re girls.” He paused, then glanced at Emily and the twins. “Um, I mean, I’m sure it’d be fine.”

Sarah grinned. “Guys, there are still people that say things like ‘You killed Jesus!’ to me or my family. Idiots! I think it’s just another stupid prejudice. Some people hate Jewish people, or Vietnamese people, or whatever. Emily gets too much judgment ... well, Emily and Mark and Morty, I mean, but she gets it the worst. It just pisses me off. I’m not sure I’d be OK if someone wasn’t OK with Kimmie and Susan! They’re awesome people.”

I jumped back in. “So ... if we had two girls — as a couple - in our study group? Or two guys? Anyone have an issue?” Marcus looked a bit put out by the mention of guys, but not all that put out.

There was a chorus of no’s, including Debbie and Marcus. I wasn’t sure if they were completely swayed, but I trusted them to live up to their word.

“Including naptime, y’all. So, no seeing or anything, but, imaginations running wild.” That got a few blushes. And more no’s.

“Hell,” Nancy said, “I’m not even sure if I want to ignore Emily and the Twins or else ... let my imagination run wild.”

I smiled. “Good to know. Thanks, y’all.”

Mike smiled. “You’ve got someone, someones, in mind. Don’t you?”

“Maybe, maybe not I wouldn’t name names if I did, of course, because that’d be rude.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, it would. Especially if they were, you know, trying to, um ... not get noticed.”

I was watching when Mike said that, and didn’t notice anyone looking agitated at the idea that this was actually a real possibility. Good. Obviously there was peer pressure involved; peer pressure that I was trying to use for good, but peer pressure nonetheless.

A bit later, Angie got up. “Hey, y’all! We’ve let finishing the written rules slide, but we should have something for you next time!” That got a round of applause.

Angie slipped into bed and grinned.

“Interesting topic, brother dear. Switching teams now that you’re single?”

“As far as I can tell, I have zero leaning the other way, sis. And, yes, I’ve thought about enough to say I considered it. You?”

Angie blushed and bit her lip. “OK, um ... let’s say ... I’m not opposed to a little experimentation, anyway.”

News! “Really?” I grinned.

I must have looked eager. Or maybe Angie was just Angie. Whap! “Down boy! I’m not doing anything about it just now!”

“On that topic, the thing is, I just, you know. It’s not just cocks. I can’t get into, like, any guy things, looks-wise. I can squint and go, ‘OK, I might see why a girl thinks he’s hot, because he looks like this other guy, who girls think is hot.’ But that’s not attraction, it’s analysis.”

“I think for girls it’s different. Cocks are ... kind of hot? Theoretically? But the guy it’s attached to has to meet many criteria, too. Just a picture of a cock would be ... eh ... to most girls that I know, anyway. I mean, you can imagine it on a great guy, but still. Whereas I know a lot of guys can look at a picture of a pussy and be thrilled, with no idea whose it is, not even a thought of who she might be, might look like, anything like that.”

“Guilty. Pussies are lovely.”

“Which I don’t get. Maybe a little. But boobs? Boobs are attractive.”

“Definitely.” My eyes resisted the temptation to check hers out.

“The thing is, I’m pretty sure that, on the right girl, a pussy would be attractive, hence, not being opposed to at least the idea of experimenting.”

“Got it. But no actual girl.”

“Nah. Except kissing.”

“Huh?”

Angie grinned and licked her lips. “Kissing practice. I think every early-teen or pre-teen girl has done it. Hell, a lot of teenagers. Kissing a guy is all, you know, shaky. You have to go through some evaluation first, because it kinda promises more. Not the whole evaluation, because just kissing’s not dangerous, but once you kiss a guy, he might think he can take more liberties. Or think he can tell his friends you let him take more liberties. You don’t need to know if you’d sleep with him, but trust him to not be a jerk? Definitely.

“On the other hand, kissing a girlfriend is just ‘well, we’re practicing kissing’. She’s not gonna put the moves on me, or blab to the school, or whatever. Unless she’s lesbian, I guess. In which case, hell, the kissing might put me in the mood, anyway. Theoretically.”

“I have never kissed a guy.”

“Of course, you haven’t. And probably never will. Vive la différence!” She looked at me. “Gonna tell me who it is?”

“It’s not fair to them, is it? If they want to stay in the closet?”

“You know I would never tell. Or care. Or whatever.”

“I know. I promise I’ll tell you once I know that I can.”

She made a face, then sighed. “It’s going to drive me crazy! But I can live with that, grudgingly, because I love you.”

“And I love you, too.”

“G’night, big bro.”

“G’night, lil sis.”

A kiss, a hug, a wiggle, the closing of a door.

January 12, 1981

I signed up for the first tournament I’d attend in this cycle.

“Ms. Ames, I’d like to go to Jefferson in Extemp.”

“That’s soon. Are you sure you’ll be ready, Steve?”

“Not at all. I may fall flat on my face. But the longer I sit here and don’t even try it, the easier it’ll get to say, well, I’ll just do Spring Woods. Or Bellaire. Or Lamar. Or next fall.”

She smiled and twirled her pen around her finger, looking at me. Considering. “You know public speaking is the number one fear of most people? We go over that early in the class year.”

“I do. Being laughed at.” I shrugged, smiled to her. “I’ve been laughed at before and I lived. But I won’t freeze up. I’ll say something. It may be lousy, but most people are lousy their first time.”

“Most people are. Sometimes they surprise you. Cammie blew me away her first time. Ted stumbled over his words and forgot half his conclusion.” Her eyes twinkled. Ted was Ted Seiler. As in the legendary Ted Seiler, at least in Memorial Debate. Third place state as a Freshman. First place State and finals, National, as a Sophomore. First place State and Third place at Nationals as a junior. Nicest guy you’d ever meet, as long as he wasn’t in your round in Extemp. Then he was just deadly focused. He’d already come by, introduced himself — with no ego, no mention of anything he’d accomplished - listened to me, and offered suggestions.

We’d never been on a team together. I would take every bit of advice I could get from him while I had the chance. I would never be on that level, but every bit helps.

Ms. Ames twirled her pen again. “You’re down for the tournament. I’m glad you’re getting out there. It’s hard to start mid-year. A few of my mid-year starters have done well at it — mostly transfers — but then several never got out there. I thought you would. Thanks for proving it.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Ames. Now I’d better get back to drills.”

I spent a while going over things in my head one more time. I was trying to practice some Extemp topics with Cammie and Brad, and Cammie had to prompt me a few times to get me out of my thoughts. Even so, I could juggle enough in my head to run my mouth for 7 minutes and not say anything humiliating. Which is how Brad put it: “Hey, dude, you’ve got this. You won’t humiliate yourself, anyway. Unless you freeze!”

Helpful, right?

So ... why? I remembered Mel from all four years the last time. Mostly, quiet and shy. Quieter and shyer than she’d started this time? Quite possibly.

The red flag for me was that I didn’t remember Cammie at all. Not a tiny bit. And she was a star in Debate right now. I knew she intended to stay involved. Somewhere that had derailed between now and my junior year.

This was a risk. Mel was presumably doing OK; Cammie seemed fine. The thing is, we all missed Mel, and according to Mark and Morty, she missed us. She wanted to come back but thought we wouldn’t like her. Cammie was great; she’d be a real asset to study group, and I could see the potential of her becoming a true friend. Would it be right for me not to give this a try?

The only reason to exclude Mel and Cammie would be their sexuality. I’d have invited them to group in a heartbeat under any other circumstances. It would be absurd to ask them to come back and be around all of us while expecting them to pretend to be straight. While I could see them refusing because of their situation, that was their decision, not mine.

Two paths. One offered hopes of making everyone’s lives richer. Mel’s and Cammie’s by having a group of accepting straight friends and hopes of a lot of cover, everyone else’s by their company and, for most of the group, having their horizons expanded a bit. The other risked a bad ending — we wouldn’t have their back, and there was a lot we could do in that regard. I couldn’t decide for them whether the opportunity was worth the risk, but I could make the offer, and I wasn’t really sure that I could look myself in the face if I didn’t try.

Midway through class, I got my opportunity to talk with Janet. Kelly Williams, who I barely knew at all, grabbed Lizzie and left for the little practice area that some enterprising students had made out of a broom closet years ago. Just enough room for three people, or four who were very friendly. CX’ers used it, but you couldn’t even bring an evidence file - you had to either know what you were going to use or wing it. But compared to not having it? Heaven! Being able to get into a space where there was no crosstalk was a big deal, when you have over twenty highly verbal people in a room working and talking to each other.