Chapter 13: Making The Date

Oct 8, 1981

After that conversation, I couldn’t help but notice Paige Seiler, even if Angie had given her a thumbs down. For now, anyway.

Ted’s little sister was, I thought, just as smart and on her way to being as poised and charismatic. Far cuter, though. Not beauty-pageant hot, but girl-next-door cute, with wavy brown hair and brown eyes. A couple inches shorter than me, she was trim, athletic, with small boobs that worked perfectly for her.

Instead of Debate, where she might’ve been stuck in Ted’s shadow — which would’ve been very unfair — she was in Drama. She had been in a small role in ‘Oklahoma!’ last year but was definitely noticeable.

She was in two of my classes, Art and English. In Art she was quiet but seemed perceptive. In English she was often the one to raise her hand with a good point. Of course, so was I, and Angie, and Mel.

I figured I should keep an eye on her. Angie was plotting something. It might be wise to know what I might be getting into. No pun intended. I think.

October 10, 1981

Angie and I were at school bright and early — 8am — for the PSAT. Yes, it doesn’t ‘matter’ for sophomores. And, yes, we’d both taken it, long long ago. But our taking it would be good practice, and the junior-year exam was critical. High scores meant a National Merit Scholarship. I’d gotten one my first go-round; she hadn’t. She should have. We both wanted them this time; that would give us even more options when choosing a college.

Memorial did very well on National Merit Scholars every year. That meant there was a lot of pressure on sophomores to take the test for practice.

When it was over, I felt like I’d done well. Again. Angie gave me a big thumbs-up. So did many of our friends; naturally, they were all here as well.

“So, Steve, how’s it been going for you?” Dr. Stanton asked.

“Well, I think. My brain hurts a bit; we took the PSAT for practice this morning. I think I did well. Our last tournament was good. Perhaps a bit, I don’t know, been-there-done-that? But good.”

“No major progress, then?”

“Nope. I’m consistently breaking in both events. So’s Angie. That’s very encouraging. But not much has changed in terms of things like qualifying for State. Which is fine, of course. We have a lot of time.”

She nodded.

“You were going to a dance?”

“Yes. Homecoming, with Sue.”

“And how did that go?”

“Um ... well enough?”

“That’s not very enthusiastic.”

“She and I talked after. Like that would surprise you,” I snickered. “The only reason I can really talk about it is due to confidentiality.”

“Oh? That sounds ominous.”

“It’s not, just very personal for her. She wanted to have a spark with me. You know. Romance, hearts and flowers. Lust, too, just as much. Didn’t happen. We enjoyed dancing, and talking, and we had a very nice kiss in the car. And a polite kiss at her door. And ended good friends, which is where we started. Better friends, because it broke the ice on getting personal. But that’s it.”

“That’s good and bad, both.”

“Here’s the very personal part. She said she’s never had those feelings with anyone. Guy, girl, movie star, whatever. No crush, no puppy love, no teen idol. Nothing.”

She bit her lip. “She should talk to someone about that.” Then she caught the look on my face and snickered. “Which you advised her to do. Of course you did.”

“Seems to me it’s the definition of something you should seek counseling for. A feeling that upsets you, impairs your happiness, that you’d like to change but don’t know how to.”

She nodded. “She wants to change it?”

“Very much. She sees what she’s missing and wants it but doesn’t know how to get it.”

“It might be physiological. She might need a psychiatrist. Sometimes feelings like that are based in chemical imbalances.”

I nodded. “I hope a decent psychologist would be on top of that and suggest checking for medical causes.”

“Well ... hopefully, yes.”

“A psychiatrist would work, too. I’ll keep up with her on it. I don’t know if she can get her parents on board, but she said they’re not anti-psychologist.”

“My kind of people!”

“Sue’s joined the study group — obviously not as my date or anything — and we’re good friends.”

“That’s good. Especially with her feeling some things that might feel like isolation otherwise, having a strong peer group is a good thing.”

“I think that’s about it on Sue. Related, I don’t have a date for Halloween. Angie has a blind date lined up, if I choose to go with that. And a friends-only companion for Sue, so I can’t use that as an excuse. I’m sure she has my best interests in mind.”

Dr. Stanton laughed. “You know, we’re back to one of our usual topics. In most cases I’d at least consider the possibility that a sister was setting up a joke on her brother. Or, with your dynamics, that she’d sandbag you in hopes you’d come running to her. But I know Angie, and she wouldn’t do either of those, so, yes, I’m sure she does, too.”

“You can discuss it with her. She’s told me I get the name only after I promise to ask whoever it is. I can’t imagine it’s anyone in our closest circle.”

“I wouldn’t think so. So, anything more on the love life front?”

“Um ... I had an unusual ... encore ... last night.”

She blinked. “Unless you’ve been holding out on me, that means Mel and Cammie.”

I nodded.

“Again? Do they know what ‘lesbian’ means?” She was grinning.

“I’m pretty sure that’s a yes. Mel’s curious and just ‘bi’ enough to want the occasional male contact, but she couldn’t be happy with a boy as her primary relationship. Cammie is deeply curious and deeply conflicted.”

“Which means the two of you didn’t do anything.”

“Eh. There was a lot of contact and we were a weak moment of her legs, or willpower, away from doing quite a bit.”

“That’s quite a picture, right there.”

“You know what I told her, I’m sure. That our friendship is worth too much to take risks with. And, also, that she can’t undo it. Right now, there have been no men, that way. Some contact, but not that much. Just once and that’s never true again. And that’s not something to take lightly.”

She snickered. “A lot of guys would’ve just pushed their hips upward.”

“Which is why they’d never be in that situation.”

“Indeed.”

“They said they think it’ll happen again, but only if my girlfriend, assuming I have one, is OK with it. And not soon, of course.”

“Interesting. They’re planning ahead. Which says a few things.”

“Yeah. Anyway, that’s it for my love life.”

“That means no updates on you and Angie.”

“There continues to be no crossing of any lines.”

“Good. Last topic; I know you heard from Candice.”

“I did.”

“And?”

“I’m happy for her. It was a good discussion.”

She laughed. “Let’s put what we’re talking about out in the open.”

“Candice dating one of her classmates. Sherry, I believe.”

“Yes. And you’re happy with that?”

“Angie and I talked about it,” I said as she smirked a bit. “As I said, I’m happy. Neither of us thought she was going to wait, and we both believe that trying to wait might have done more harm than good. We also think it’s a risk. If Sherry decides Candice deserves a giant pedestal, it’s a real risk. But everything’s a risk.”

She nodded. “That makes sense.”

“In a lot of ways, prurient interest aside...” She chuckled again. I had to keep up my end of the ‘anything might come out of Steve’s mouth’ game, after all. “That wasn’t the big thing in the call.”

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows.

“She made a very interesting comparison to Max. Who I don’t think she ever met, so Angie must have gone into detail. I certainly didn’t. That’s Angie’s business; I’m not discussing that with anyone but her or you. Anyway, she said that, had she gotten involved with someone like Max, she never would’ve tried to kill herself. He’d have treated her close enough to her self-image that, to her, it’d have been ... acceptable. Eventually, that would’ve been very bad for her.”

“That’s ... very interesting, and astute on her part. She told you, knowing you’d tell me? Interesting indeed.” She jotted down several notes. “That is a unique way for her to get information to me, using you as a conduit.”

“She let me off the hook, too. Which I’m still going to talk to you about, but it helped. She said to not feel bad when I thought back about the disconnect between my treating her like a princess and her feeling like trash. She didn’t use the word ‘trash’,” I said, smiling softly. “She said she knew it must bother me but that I should get over it, because it took that disconnect to make her break, and that if she hadn’t broken, she would never have gotten free.”

“Which is very likely true, but her breaking very nearly ended her life. Her love for you saved her, but, say, if she’d called and Angie had been on the phone...”

I gulped. I hadn’t even considered that before. “Ugh. That’s a thought I do not need.”

“She’s probably more right than wrong. I just don’t want her fixating on the ends having justified the means.”

“I agree. But it does make me feel better.”

“And that’s a good thing. You’re not to blame. She’s right; barring some miraculous discovery of her situation — which she was hiding extremely well — you helped more than most people ever could have.”

“And we’re back around to square one. I just want her to be happy and have a good life. Sherry makes her happy and isn’t a barrier to having a good life. So, go for it.”

She nodded. “And, with that, it’s time for me to get your sister. Our next meeting is...” She checked her notes. “Halloween! Scary!”

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s all we can do. And we’re free this time of day. There’s a tournament the week after, and the weekend after that is the only chance for a meeting in November.”

“You kids and your ridiculous schedules. When do you sleep!?”

“We do OK. It’s helped a bunch that we can drive. Though we aren’t driving to the next tournament. It’s in Dallas.”

“Good heavens, I should hope not!”

We walked out. I gave Angie’s hand a quick squeeze.

“Good talk, honey?” Mom asked.

“Really good, Mom. Thanks for supporting us.”

“You two are such good kids. The only thing I’ve ever really had to complain about is that Max character and that got settled. If this is helping you stay on the path that you’re on, why mess with success?”

I smiled. “Thanks, Mom.” It hadn’t escaped me that ‘behaving’ wasn’t on Mom’s list of things to complain about. She hadn’t forgotten, but I thought there was a subtle signal there about trust.

October 11, 1981

Study group was good. We were past an exam cycle, so there was more time for relaxing and games.

I toyed with an idea I’d had before. What would it be like if we did a focused discussion on some non-school topic every so often? I thought it might bring people together different ways.

We were all doing so well right now that we didn’t need every second for studies. Maybe we could try something new.

Not this week, even with tomorrow being Columbus Day. No school, therefore Tuesday study group became all-day Monday study group party. Yay!

9:45pm

I’d had enough of waiting. I wasn’t going to ask anyone. I knew it. Angie knew it.

The thing is, I probably would have if she’d just made it ‘Ask someone or I kick your ass.’ But she hadn’t. She’d told me she had someone picked out. And in the end, finding out who that was? I couldn’t really resist that.

“OK, Ang. You win. I’ll ask out whoever you ‘suggest’ I ask out.”

“No hedging? Even if it’s Theresa Beckett?”

I laughed. “No, I would not invite her out. Fine. No one in a relationship.” Theresa and Marcus, improbably or not, were still going strong. Angie’s grapevine reported that, of all the things he could have done to keep Debbie pissed off the most, sustaining a relationship with Theresa was the best, or worst, however you put that. She was absolutely livid. Which, to me, reinforced the idea that she’d thought she had him so whipped he’d crawl back. Wasn’t happening.

She laughed. “That cuts out my next tease. I was going to mention Jessica Lively.”

“One. In a relationship. Two. With a guy who could give me another concussion. Three. If you’ve talked to Jessica, and she’s agreed to go out with me, then I might ignore one and two.”