Chapter 98: Cast Party

Friday, May 28, 1982

We both slept late. Why not? No school, no plans, no reason to get up early. I spent the afternoon reading, though thoughts about the School Board meeting kept distracting me. My idea about our pastor might undermine their ‘morality’ argument, if it would work. I needed to think it through. There were risks, but if it worked, it would score some major points, both with the School Board and with Mom and Dad. Win-win, definitely.

I started getting ready about 4pm, showering and then putting on a nice shirt and slacks. Angie showered first — of course — and opted for a pink dress. Jasmine would meet me there — she had a family thing. If all went according to plan, I’d be driving her home, though she wasn’t at all sure she wouldn’t just sleep over.

Mom and Dad met us with hugs on our way out. “You kids have fun!” Mom said.

“I’m glad you get to celebrate with your new friends,” Dad added.

“Thanks, Mom! Thanks, Dad!” Angie said.

“Yes, thanks!”

“Do you know how late things will run?” Mom asked.

I shook my head. “It’s not a sleepover, but ... late? I think.”

Angie nodded. “Likely late.”

“Well, have fun, and we’ll see you tomorrow!” Mom said.

We headed off to my car. I helped Angie in, then headed off. I’d never been to the Zimmerman house, but I’d gotten good directions.

“That was such a change,” Angie said.

I nodded. “It fits with their new attitude. They’re still just ... trying it on, I guess. They’re not sure how to behave. And, if I were them, I’d be in the same boat.”

“You’ve been in their shoes. I never got to try that.”

“Not yet. You get another try, at least. It’s hard, at this point. Your kids are ‘old enough’ before you know it, and they think they’re ‘old enough’ well before they are, too. We have the advantage of really being ‘old enough,’ but they can’t know that. And ... stuff happens. Kids drive home drunk from parties and sometimes don’t get home at all. Or they get assaulted, or wind up pregnant, or getting someone pregnant, or whatever. Mine avoided all of the really bad things, but, still, you’re constantly worried about them.”

Angie nodded. “It seems easy to say they should let go, but they’re doing pretty well at the current pace. I’m okay with it. Like we’ve both said, part of me loves that they’re watching out for us.”

“Me, too. We’re fine. And they’re letting me take Jasmine off to Dallas for a show. That’s a huge step.”

“Yeah. So ... tonight?”

“I plan to go with the flow, as long as the flow doesn’t get too crazy. A beer would be fine, but I won’t get drunk. Some sexual things are fine — good, even,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows, “but no orgies.”

“Sounds about right. I need to keep Gene in mind, of course, but that means we’re both sticking with just girls.”

“Nothing wrong with that!”

She giggled. “I agree!”

We pulled up to the Zimmerman house just a few minutes after 5pm. It was a fairly big two-story house — though nothing on the scale of the homes that would replace many in these neighborhoods twenty years in the future — and seemed like a good choice for a party. Several cars were already parked out front, and I saw Danny Brennerman and Sam Kohl heading in along with Gary Bennett, who I figured was likely their ride. No one would want parents taking them to — or from — this party unless they had no other option.

A middle-aged woman met us at the door. “Hello! I’m Pat Zimmerman. Welcome!”

Angie offered her hand. “Angie Marshall, and that...” She nodded in my direction. “ ... is my brother Steve.”

She laughed, with a nice smile. “And you’re upstaging him, of course. As you should!” She and Angie shook hands.

Angie said, “Nice to meet you, Ms. Zimmerman. Thanks for offering your house to our motley crew.”

“I saw the show! You were hardly motley!”

I offered my hand and we shook. “Yes, thank you for having us over.”

“Our pleasure! Just try to keep the noise down. We’ll be upstairs most of the time, unless the screaming is unbearable.”

We both chuckled at that.

“Linda and Carole are in the living room, along with quite a few of the group. It’s that way.” She nodded off to the left. “Just follow the noise!”

“Thank you!”

“Yes, thank you!”

We both headed off to the living room. The stereo was blasting out ‘Hungry Like The Wolf’, the lights were off, and at least ten people were dancing. I was a bit surprised by the selection — Duran Duran hadn’t really caught on much in the US, yet, though that would change quickly — but figured one of the Drama contingent was ahead of the curve.

My girlfriend wasn’t one of the dancing group, as I found out when she jumped on me, kissing me deeply.

“Hi!”

“Hi, honey,” I replied, hugging her. I gave her ass a squeeze, prompting a giggle and several very enjoyable wiggles.

She grabbed my hand and tugged. “Come on! Dance!”

I followed, laughing. We danced to perhaps a dozen songs before collapsing on the couch. The dance partnerships were what you’d expect: a few guy-guy couples, more guy-girl pairings, and several girl-girl combinations. Many people shifted partners, but Jasmine and I danced together the entire time, sometimes with others but always together. I’d spotted Angie swapping partners a few times, both guys and girls. Two of the guys she’d danced with had no interest in her, I was pretty certain. Or, at least, no interest that way.

By the time we took our break, everyone had arrived. A few minutes after we’d sat down, Pat Zimmerman banged on the door, smiling and laughing. “Everybody decent?”

“Mommmmm!” Linda said, giggling. “Come on! We’ll keep our clothes on until you go upstairs!”

“Of course you will, dear!” Pat chuckled. “We are heading upstairs; that’s why I’m interrupting. Snacks are all out in the dining room, and there’s enough for twice as many as are here, so you won’t starve. You know what not to get into!”

“I know!”

“Me, too!” Carole echoed.

Pat waved, then closed the door. Linda waved her hand. “Okay! Everyone! She means it. We talked about it. There are rules. No one gets drunk! Please! That’s the biggest. If anyone does get drunk, they sleep in the guest room and apologize profusely to Mom and Dad tomorrow. Or we call their parents to get them.”

There were several gasps of mock-horror.

“Everyone here knows enough about sex to take care of themselves. If you’re going to do something, be safe and be private. This is not an orgy! Even last year’s wasn’t, and this year’s really isn’t. That isn’t the point of this party anyway!”

Everyone nodded.

“That said, sexy is just fine. Lots of kissing! And making out! And not necessarily with your date, if you have a date, which most of us do not!”

Cheering.

“Now, I’m hungry. I’m checking out the snacks!”

She headed out the door, and most of us followed, including me. I was hungry, too. Jasmine and I held hands.

What Pat — or whoever — had laid out in the dining room was hardly ‘snacks’. Between submarine sandwiches cut into segments, pinwheel sandwiches, fruit and veggie trays, meat and cheese platters, chips, dips, and desserts, we had a buffet sufficient for a much larger group. Which is what she’d promised, of course.

Paige clapped her hands. “Everyone! No desserts yet!” There was a round of grumbling. “Shush! I have a plan! No sneaking any desserts!”

Everyone dug in, though politely, loading plates with bits of this and that. While some played at sneaking desserts, everyone obeyed Paige’s dictum. This time we spread out more, some people in the living room, some in the adjacent den, some in the kitchen at the kitchen table. Jasmine wound up on my lap in the den, and we traded bites of this and that, as well as plenty of kisses.

By the time most people had finished whatever they’d grabbed, Paige took over.

“Okay, this next game I thought of. So... you’d better like it!”

There was a lot of laughter, a lot of groaning, and a few calls of, “Oh, no!”

“Shush! Now! Everyone! Pick out one dessert and put it on a plate. Nicely! You won’t be eating it yourself!”

Chuckling, I picked out a little chocolate petit four. Others picked, until we each had a plate.

“Now! Everyone raise your left hand!”

We did. Some had to shift their plates.

“Rules! You can give your plate to anyone except someone you’re dating or are related to. Or both, if that’s your thing! Once someone gives you a plate, put your hand down, and you may not give your plate to the person who just gave you theirs. Everyone clear?”

We all nodded our heads.

“There will be consequences. Now, go!”

I got my plate to Mikayla before anyone else could get to her. She laughed and gave hers to Angie, who’d hesitated — I think deciding that she counted as ‘dating’ with Jasmine — and wound up giving hers to Marshall. I received a plate from Bob, who snickered a bit, smiling. Wasn’t the first time he’d teased me, after all.

“There! Now! Eat!” We all did.

“Now, we’re playing a game. Linda’s helping me.” Linda looked confused. “Linda’s going to call three names. Those three, plus whoever they gave a dessert to, come up. I’ll play a song. One of the six takes lead vocals and the other five do some sort of backing vocals. Yes, that means you’re all singing twice.”

There were a lot of groans, but a lot of chuckles, too. This was going to be a mess.

The first group turned out to be Jasmine and Carole, Lexi and Sheila, and Glenn and Charles. They did a very odd take on ‘Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around’ which drew a lot of laughter.

My first group was Bob and me, Sheila and Paige, and Charles and Caitlyn. We butchered ‘Our Lips Are Sealed’, though Sheila really gave it a try. Paige giggled as we finished. “And this was my scheme!”

By the time we’d finished, I’d gotten to do a very hammy attempt at ‘In The Air Tonight’ and Angie had survived ‘The Tide Is High’ and backing vocals for ‘Morning Train’. Paige halfheartedly tried to put together another round, but murder was threatened, so she backed off.

Linda stepped to the front. “That was ... surprisingly tame for you, Paige.”

Paige grinned. “Ahh, but I said there would be consequences. There are more. Pick someone from your groups. Same rules — no dating partners, no siblings. Past dating partners are acceptable, but frowned upon. And if you tag someone and they shake their head, respect it, move on. Whoever tags first wins, and the prize is a couple of minutes of making out. Then we repeat; anyone who didn’t get to tag someone gets first dibs. We repeat rounds until everyone’s had a turn or wants to stop.”

“When do we start?” Linda asked.

“Now!” Paige yelled.

I’d already considered my strategy and decided to wait for the second round to try anything myself. That seemed to not be too bad a plan, as Paige tagged me pretty quickly, and she would’ve been my first choice. That she and I would make out at some point seemed inevitable, so, why not now?

She grinned after tagging me. “Happy?”

“It’s a great party so far.”

She frowned, then giggled when I grinned and went on, telling her, “Of course I’m happy that you tagged me. I’m not a total idiot.”

“Better!” She grinned, then clicked her teeth together. “Otherwise I’d have had to bite you.”

“Not my favorite thing.”

“No surprise there.”

Things wrapped up quickly. I wasn’t surprised when Caitlyn tagged Angie. Any Drama girl who’d be interested knew Angie would probably be interested, too.

I took Paige’s hand and sat down in a slightly overstuffed chair, pulling her into my lap. Our lips met and pretty much I lost track of much else for the next few minutes. Her hand got inside my shirt. Mine stayed outside hers, but her boobs got some attention. I know it was welcome, because she’d put my hand there in the first place.

Finally she broke the kiss. “Time!”

There were some groans and boos from around the room. She winked at me, leaned in, and whispered, “I think I let that go longer than I meant to. But not long enough. Why haven’t we done this before?”

“Good things come to those who wait?”

“I approve of that answer.” She hopped up. “Round two!”

I was more than a bit surprised when Caitlyn tagged me just a few seconds into the round. She looked at me. It took me a few seconds to realize she was waiting to see if I’d shake my head. I hugged her instead.

She hugged back, speaking softly. “I got your sister. Figured I’d get you, too. You’ve got a reputation for being cool, and...” She shrugged and grinned. “Some girl will get me in the third round, and this will be interesting, at least. Don’t get any ideas, though.”

“No plans on it. I know you’re not interested.”

“It’s kissing. I’m curious, anyway. Anything else? Nuh uh.”

“That’s what I meant.”

Paige shouted, “Okay, we’re ready. Get to it!” She was holding hands with Angie; apparently we’d swapped partners this round.

I pulled Caitlyn gently into my lap and kissed her, trying to hit a median between what Cammie and I had decided were my girl-kisses and my guy-kisses. Apparently it worked for Caitlyn, as she responded with what seemed like genuine enthusiasm.