Chapter 48: Valentines

February 2, 1981

I yawned my way through study group. Cammie yawned along with me. The gang pushed me to recreate one of my Extemp rounds, then made Cammie do one of hers. I’m sure we were better Saturday.

I hope Cammie was awake enough to enjoy her nap.

Dan hadn’t returned since the breakup with Angie. I was pretty sure he was out. It sucked a bit, but that’s how things go sometimes. I don’t know how I’d have felt being around Ang right now if I was an ex-boyfriend myself.

February 5, 1981

Mel, Cammie, Andy, and I met to coordinate outfits for Valentines. Neither Andy nor I had strong opinions about our outfits, so we left it up to the ladies to decide.

They conferred and asked me to wear my sport coat and slacks with a red shirt and white rose, playing to Cammie’s off-white dress and red rose. Mel wore a red dress, putting Andy in the suit he already had. We’d discussed it and we’d dance most of the fast songs together with the rest of the group and dance most of the slow songs with our dates. I wanted Mel and Cammie to get just one dance together, but they nixed that. The risk of exposure was just too high. I couldn’t argue, but it still frustrated me.

Since that wouldn’t work, I proposed getting a few of the later slow songs on record or cassette, playing them at study group, and letting them dance (plus anyone else who wanted, of course). At least they’d get their own little Valentine’s dance, even if it was in the billiards room.

I got two kisses on the cheek for that. First kisses from anyone not named Angie, or from my Mom, in a while.

February 7, 1981

I find back-to-back tournaments stressful. We headed to our nearby sister school, Spring Woods. This was a lower-key event. Fewer schools took part. That’s in theory good, because your odds of qualifying go up.

However, the Spring Woods organizers did not have their act together. We didn’t finish Friday until 1am Saturday, and Saturday ran, so I heard, to 3am. It’s so close to home that we didn’t bother with a bus, and parents just picked us up after the last round.

I lost in quarters, again. Breaking two weeks in a row was not bad at all. I got home by 9pm. It would have been late afternoon but for their lack of organization.

Ted won again. Big surprise. No one else qualified that hadn’t already. Janet and Lizzie placed third.

February 8, 1981

I yawned even more through study group. This was getting bad. The end of the six weeks was upon us. My grades were good; my sleep wasn’t. I left early to head to bed after a quick dinner. Angie did the same.

February 9, 1981

The phone rang about 7. Angie was out with a friend, per Mom.

“Hello?” Her voice was soft, but not as bad as last time.

“Candice! It’s great to hear your voice!”

“It’s great to hear your voice, too, Steve. Doctor Jane told me you’ve seen her.”

“Angie and I both did. I liked her. So did Angie.”

“I spoke to Angie the other night. Um ... I think. Two nights ago.”

“I’m glad you got to.” Angie hadn’t mentioned that, which annoyed me. I tried to keep it out of my voice. “I hope it was a good call.”

“She seemed weird. But then I’m weird. So, it’s probably me.”

“You sound a little better.”

“I am a little better. Steve, I don’t hate you or Angie anymore. I can’t hate you for trying to save me. I know you both love me.”

“We love you and want you to get better.”

“They say it’s going to take a while. I know they’re right. I don’t like the drugs they’re giving me. They confuse me, much of the time. But, when they tried not giving them to me, that was worse. So they’re OK.” There was a bit of noise in the background. “I have to go. Bye, Steve. Thank you for saving me, even though I didn’t want it. I think I’m glad that you did, anyway.”

“You’re welcome, Candice! Take care.”

“You, too. Bye.”

I cried after the call, but not as much. The pain was ebbing, between time healing all wounds and Candice being alive and in recovery. Slow, painful recovery, but recovery.

My hormones had recovered, too, and I’d needed to take care of things a couple times. Dating wasn’t even on the horizon, though, not yet. It’d still be a bad rebound for me. I needed more distance from Candice or I’d just do everything wrong.

February 11, 1981

Angie made a last-minute decision to skip karate tonight. When I got home, I found her curled up in bed with a hot water bottle on her tummy.

“That for what I think it’s for?”

“Yeah, big bro. It’ll be better in a day or two, I’m sure.”

“Everyone missed you. Get better.”

“It’s not like I’m sick,” she chuckled. “It happens. I’ll be fine.”

“I heard Candice called.”

“Yeah. It was brief. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it. A lot was going on and I just forgot. Did she call again?”

“Yeah, I talked to her yesterday while you were out. I wish you’d let me know, but it’s fine.”

“Maybe she’ll call when we’re both here, soon.”

“I hope so. I know she loves hearing from us. Anyway, you feel better!”

“Thanks!”

“Sis? I know there’s stuff going on, you looking for a new boyfriend and all.” I wasn’t about to mention that I’d seen her and Max. “But we’re a team. Nothing comes between that, OK? Just keep me in the loop.”

“Sorry, Steve. I will. Love you.”

“Love you too, Ang.”

Heading off to bed, my thoughts were more troubled. I hadn’t wanted to argue with Angie. She could’ve explained things.

I hadn’t missed the tampon wrappers in the bathroom trash several days last week. Something was clearly wrong, and I wouldn’t lose focus on it. I had no idea what I could do about it, though. It would depend on how off the rails things got.

February 13, 1981

I woke up this morning and found Angie already in the bathroom. Unusual. And taking longer than usual.

“Hey, sis! It’s getting late!”

“Just five minutes more! You can wait!” That didn’t sound like her. Not at all.

“OK.”

She came out. I thought she had on a trifle more makeup than usual.

“Mom might not like that.”

“It’ll be fine.”

Did she blush? I wasn’t sure. But the look she gave me? I didn’t know how to interpret it, but there was ... something ... off.

The storm was inching closer. Just a few harder raindrops. So far.

February 14, 1981

They held the Valentine’s Dance in the gym, of course. Since the school colors are red and white, there are always plenty of red and white streamers on hand. Add a bunch of hearts, some glitter, roll out some sparkly table decorations from Homecoming, plus the punch bowls and snack service, and you’ve got a dance.

In other words, it looked much the same.

But it wasn’t.

For one thing, I was here with Cammie on my arm. Cammie, who my parents were told was “just a friend from study group.” That was, after all, the truth. I felt confident I could’ve made them understand what I was doing, but that was trouble no one needed. Her parents were told the same. From their perspective, it was a harmless date with a boy. They had seen just enough disinterest in boys from Cammie in the past to be happy that she was taking an interest in one. It was telling that her father hadn’t insisted on meeting me. Instead of trying to scare off a male suitor, or even lay down the law, it felt as if he was trying to make sure nothing scared me off.

For another, Mel was here. Not that she’d missed the other dances. But, even if only a few of us knew it, she had an actual date for this one. And we wouldn’t let that completely go to waste.

I had new friends here. A bunch of the debaters went. Most teams weren’t couples — Janet and Lizzie were an obvious exception, but then they weren’t here — but Janice, Brad, Emmy, May, and Martha were here with their dates. And Ted, with Lorraine, who he’d been dating for three years. And the Greene twins, who had somehow wound up with a pair of freshman twins who weren’t Mark and Morty. I’d noticed we had a fair number of twins around. Including Zoe and Adam, who were obviously not identical. They weren’t coming tonight, though.

And then ... Angie was here on Max’s arm.

That bothered me, because I’d told Angie about Cammie. Angie hadn’t mentioned Max’s name once. And I don’t mean just Valentines. She hadn’t mentioned she was dating him, either. When I’d asked her who she was going with, she’d given me an evasive answer and told me she’d tell me soon. What was I to do, pester her about it? She knew I wanted to know, and she’d chosen not to tell me. Even after she’d agreed that we were a team.