Chapter 30: End of Semester

December 13, 1981

Study group was all business. All business. Those with naps drawn, skipped. A couple of them would take advantage of Tuesday and half the finals being over. I’d settled in to work on World History and Art. Not that either was a major problem, but they were likely to be the hardest.

We still hadn’t had anyone drop below an A for a semester. In any class, any semester that they were in the group. By now, it was a challenge. No one wanted to be the first to drop the ball. And no one wanted to watch and think ‘Hey, I could have helped, but I was too self-absorbed to see they needed help.’ That second part was more the key than the first, I think. All for one, one for all.

I love my friends.

I finally got something other than ringing when I called Nancy’s house. Not an answer, but a message saying the number had been changed at the request of the subscriber. No new number was given. I called directory assistance and they after some back-and-forth — confirmed that the number was unlisted.

I was at a dead end. Unless Nancy called, I had no way to call her.

December 14, 1981

In relative desperation I picked out a Christmas card with a warm (but not too warm) message, wrote a brief note giving our travel schedule (which I pried out of Dad — this trip didn’t seem high on surprises) and the hotels we’d be in, and put it in the mail to the address I had. It should make it through the mail to her before we arrived — maybe even before we left. If so, she could call. Or not.

I wanted to see her, but more than that, right now I just wanted to know that she was OK. I wasn’t truly worried, just... apprehensive.

Two envelopes arrived from the College Board. Angie and I opened ours, parents standing by. I looked; Angie looked. Then we looked at each other, grinned, and hugged each other.

“Well?” Dad asked. “It looks like good news.”

Angie grinned. “Well, if we were both juniors, you’d have two National Merit Scholars. Since we’re not, we have to do this again next year. But now we know we can do it!”

“Congratulations, kids! I knew you could do it!” Mom said, hugging us both. Dad hugged us, too.

I hugged Angie tight. This meant a lot to her. Next year’s would mean even more. Not that she had to worry about college money this time, but still. It was a big deal.

December 15, 1981

I was down to Art, English II, and Debate. English II should be easy unless Ms. Henry really surprised me.

Most of the group was much more relaxed, as predicted. Mike and Sarah took a nap; so did Angie and Gene.

December 17, 1981

Our Debate final was as expected. We sat around, talked, joked, watched ‘Monty Python And The Holy Grail’ (yes, again), quoted sections of it, and pretty much enjoyed the time.

Several of the girls had spoken with Bree McKenzie and Cindy Baird, our two dilettantes, over the semester, urging them to at least give things a try. Both were freshman; for a wonder, we only had the two. Usually at least one or two older kids are in the same category. Both had been unwavering; they’d do the work, but not put themselves out there.

So, I was surprised when Bree came over to me, shyly, well into the party. “Hey, Steve, can I talk to you?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

She nodded to a table in the corner; I followed.

“Um ... you changed classes and started Debate halfway through last year, right?”

“Yeah. Are you thinking of trying to change? I was in a weird situation.”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve been giving it a lot of though and ... well, maybe it’d be good for me to try at least once. But now I feel like I’ve lost so much time, plus, I’m scared people won’t like me. I know you’re all really close. So, I wanted to see what it felt like coming in in the middle.”

I smiled. “OK, first, people will like you. I’m sure of that. I know these people; we’re tight but we’re not insular, you know? Everyone’s been honest in wanting you to join in, and they still will be. I guess I can say that for your first tournament you’ll get more eyes on you, wondering if it’s just the one, or not. And if you’re going to try, go to Bellaire. You need all the chances you can get. Being fair, you have lost time, but that’s done. All you can do now is lose more.”

“OK, yeah, I see that. I’d already decided not New Orleans. Like, I think that’d be weird. I’ll go to Bellaire and Humble and, if they’re OK, I’ll go to the one in San Antonio. Well, I guess I need to commit to San Antonio earlier than that.”

“Dropping out is easier than trying to join late. Most likely, with the number of girls we have, it’ll just be some shuffling of rooms, and we’ll have room on the bus. I’m a bit sorry about Humble.”

“Why?”

“You have to go with Ms. Demme. I’m not a fan. Just don’t let her get to you. It’ll be the least fun you have at a tournament, no question. The kids you’ll go with are fine, and mostly she’ll just say some annoying things. You’ll get some experience with her at our tournament. She’s supposed to ‘help.’”

“I really like Ms. Ames.”

“We all do. She’s great. And it’s just Humble; you’ll manage. I’m glad you’re thinking about it. Even if it turns out not to be for you, at least you’ll have given it a real try. And I promise, no one ever laughs,” I grinned. “And the team will be happy you’re joining in. Now, if you can just talk Cindy into it.”

“Cindy doesn’t like me, so that’s not happening.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” I hadn’t picked up on that. Interesting.

“Thanks, Steve. I appreciate it.” She hopped up and went off to grab a cookie.

Angie came over after a bit. “What was up with Bree? New hot date?” OK, so, Bree’s not bad, in a slightly mousy way. Short, straight brown hair, glasses. On a path to ‘hot librarian’, maybe.

I laughed. “No. Apparently all the nudging you and the other girls have done has convinced her to maybe give it a try. She wanted my thoughts on going to your first tournament halfway through the year. And if we’d accept her.”

“I’ll accept her!” Whap! “I did not mean that in a creepy way, Mister!”

“Didn’t think you did, so, that’s what I told her. She says she’ll go to Bellaire and Humble. And probably MacArthur. And see what happens from there.”

“Cool. I’m glad. Then we’re down to one.”

“Yeah, and I don’t see Cindy changing her mind.”

“Me neither. Bree said Cindy doesn’t like her.”

“Yeah. I don’t know why. Some sort of bad blood.”

“Who knows if she’ll qualify, but hey, just giving it a real try is a win.”

“Definitely.”

I caught Jasmine just after class and gave her a big hug and kiss. “I’m going to really miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you, too! I hope you have a lot of fun in California, though. And with us, there’s no such thing as ‘too much fun.’” She grinned and winked.

“Odds are low I’m picking up some hot chick at Disneyland. Or having a wild reunion with Nancy. I sent her a card. They changed phone numbers and the new one is unlisted.”

“Huh, well, maybe too many salespeople or something. Anyway, I do hope you get to see her. In case you had any doubts, I know it’s super-unlikely, but, green light,” she said with a wink.

I laughed. “Almost certainly it’d be a dinner with parents around. Maybe they’ll let us sit together and they’ll sit together, but she doesn’t drive, I don’t think, and it’s a family vacation. When we did the equivalent in Chicago, Mom and Dad were there, the girls’ parents weren’t. Well, not the equivalent. Girls who were friends of Angie’s. Not girlfriends of Angie’s.”

“Yeah, that’s a difference. Also, Angie? Green light,” she winked again.

“Unlikely, but I will remember it.”

“You do that!”

“So, since we won’t be together, I brought you a Christmas present.”