Chapter 113: Almost Gone

Thursday, June 24, 1982

I picked Jasmine up around 4:30pm and we headed to Pho King. Both of us were more quiet than usual.

We weren’t quiet at dinner. We chattered away about our summer plans, about Sam, about Jessica, about Paige, and Lexi, and Angie, and on and on. Jessica was a mystery. It seemed that, despite expectations, Paige wasn’t a one night stand, but then we might both have grown a lot over the past months. Lexi was still looking for a boyfriend and, until she had one, things were possible. And then, of course, there were Drama girls old and new, and cheerleaders Jessica might point my way, and...

Junior year might be busy. I’d definitely need my social calendar.

What we didn’t talk about was our future. Not yet.

We got back to Jasmine’s around 6:30pm and fell right into bed. This was it for over a month. It would, in fact, be the first time in my entire life that my romantic partner and I would spend such a long time apart. Of course, it’d be the longest break like that for Jasmine, too, but she didn’t have quite the life experience I did.

It took us a while to come up for air. We weren’t trying to pack five weeks of lovemaking into one night, but we were doing our best anyway.

“I,” Jasmine said, panting, snuggled up, “am really, really going to miss you.”

“I’m going to really, really miss you, too. We’ll talk on the phone, and it’ll fly by.”

“I hope so! The next two weeks will, for me, anyway. I’ve got a little surprise. Nothing big, but you’ll like it. After that ... well ... really, I know it will. Once I start into the Drama program I’ll be super-busy, and you’ll be busy with your program. But, still, we’ll have to plan for a lot of catching-up.”

“We should have about two weeks. I’ll be making some plans. I hope that we can go out of town at least once.”

“That would be wonderful.” She stretched a bit, snuggling in closer. “And, next year?”

I shrugged. “We have a lot of classes in common. A lot of friends. I’m looking forward to it.”

“It feels weird. Good, but weird.”

“Just as weird for me. Maybe more weird.”

She nodded. “I can see that.” She stretched again. “So. Your phoning plan. How does that work?”

I thought about it. “Actually ... that’s a good question. I think we both call our parents and let them know how to reach us. They exchange numbers and meeting times. Then one of us calls the other at the right time. I don’t know if we’ll have phones in our rooms.”

“Yeah. I don’t either. At worst we can hang out at a pay phone at the right time.”

“And growl at anyone who dares use it at the wrong time.”

“Yes. That!”

I sighed. “I considered staying over, but...”

“But no sense pushing it before your trip. Or, at all, really. Well, for a while. We get out-of-town trips. I don’t want to lose those if your parents get upset,” Jasmine said.

“Me neither. So, I’d better get cleaned up and head out.”

“Yeah.”

We headed for the shower. Despite all the exertion, we almost got going again, but decided against it.

Once we’d dressed, Jasmine walked me to the front door. “I’ll miss you, Steve.”

“I’ll miss you, Jasmine.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Camille came over. “I will miss you as well. Have a wonderful summer, Steve.”

“Thanks, Camille.” We hugged, and she kissed me on both cheeks.

“I’ll see you next month,” she said, with a grin.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“I will just bet you are. Both of you!”

Jasmine laughed. “I can’t miss him until he actually leaves, though.”

“Bye, honey,” I said, going out the door.

“Goodbye, boyfriend.”

Friday, June 25, 1982

Angie and I spent the day packing and repacking. This was very different from our previous trips. This time, we were packing for a month. We’d do laundry, of course, but there were so many more things to pack, including our mostly-empty evidence cases, formalwear, and whatever little things we couldn’t live without when we were living away from home.

We couldn’t even count on sharing, of course, and I wasn’t sure how much we could buy when we got there. I was pretty sure they’d frown on us going off to stores unsupervised. The trick wouldn’t be to do it. There are plenty of ways to slip the leash at a high school summer program, or, at least, that’s what I’d seen my first go-round. No, the trick would be getting back and making sure no one realized where the new stuff had come from.

It would be different at Northwestern, where they’d let us walk to downtown Evanston and shop and hang out. I didn’t know if we’d have the same freedom at Indiana or not.

We all piled into Angie’s car at 4:30pm. Maybe unusual for the birthday girl to drive to her own celebration but, of course, that was part of the celebration. Not that she hadn’t been driving for most of the year, but seldom — outside the vacation — with Mom and Dad in the car. It was another little acknowledgment of impending adulthood and freedom.

Angie grinned as she drove. “I asked to go here last year. Took long enough! Though I wouldn’t trade last year’s birthday for anything.”

Dad chuckled. “I’m glad. That’s still a favorite for me, too. I really liked meeting some of your friends, and the people at Giordano’s were so nice to us.”

Mom asked, “Do you keep up with your friends?”

Angie nodded. “Not that often, but we talk once a month, maybe. It’s different; I don’t think I’ll see them this summer. Maybe next summer if we go to Northwestern. Then we could walk to Giordano’s almost anytime.”

“A scary thought,” I said. “At least it involves walking.”

“Yeah. Though it might be healthier than cafeteria food. Who knows?”

Dad pretended to groan. “There wasn’t much worse than cafeteria food when I was in college.”

“Our cafeteria does okay,” I said.

“Okay, yes,” Angie said. “They make it taste fine, and it’s not that bad. But it’s still not that great either.”

“True enough.”

Angie pulled up to Brennerman’s and parked. This early, there were plenty of close parking spaces. We all headed in and were quickly seated at a nice table with a great view of the gardens.

The waitress took our orders — steak and vegetables for Mom and Dad, chicken for me, crab cakes for Angie. Dad surprised me by ordering a bottle of wine, after some consultation with both the waitress and the menu. Order in hand, she headed off.

“Happy sweet sixteen,” Dad said, smiling.

“Yes, honey,” Mom said. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mom,” Angie said. “I’m glad the timing worked out to do it here. Giordano’s was great, and I like traveling, but it’s nice to be able to go here, too. Better than someplace I’ve never been in some town I might not get back to.”