Chapter 111: A Few Celebrations

Sunday, April 17, 1983

Meg let us sleep until nine, which seemed perfectly reasonable. We were out of the motel by ten and at IHOP by ten-thirty. Around eleven-thirty, as we were wrapping up our meal, I gave Mom and Dad another quick call, letting them know that we’d done really well but that they could ignore Nationals in trip planning. I think that was equally a disappointment and a relief for Dad.

We hit the road just before noon and were back in Houston by three-thirty, with one stop along the way for snacks. As before, Principal Riggs met us at school, along with pretty much all of the parents. He gave another little speech about how great we were and how proud he was. It seemed heartfelt, too. Of course, it was also a feather in his cap — but that didn’t mean he couldn’t also personally be happy and proud of us.

Mom and Dad greeted us both (and Jasmine, and Paige) with hugs, and so did Camille and Francis (yes, they had one for Paige, too). I’m pretty sure everyone’s parents were there, win or lose, whether the kid needed a ride or not, which I really liked. Of course, no one needed a ride — there were plenty of us with space to take anyone home if we’d needed to.

I watched Cammie’s parents hugging and kissing her. I continued to have highly ambivalent feelings about them, as I know Cammie did. They were clearly good parents in many ways, but — had they actually known who their daughter was — they’d have done something that I thought was right up there on the list of the worst things to do. They, of course, would see it differently. I had the advantage of knowing that, forty years later, there was a mountain of evidence that ‘conversion therapy’ just didn’t work unless the person really, really wanted it to work. Mostly, it made the child depressed, sometimes suicidal. For every ‘success story’ there were so many tragic failures.

One year and two days and that would no longer be an issue, at least. Or would that be one year and three days, if you considered leap year? Hopefully, that one day wouldn’t turn out to matter...

The consensus amongst all of us was that we could, and should, skip Study Group today, so everyone went home after one more round of hugs.

Mom had gone somewhat all-out, so we had steak accompanied by asparagus, rolls, and spinach soufflé, plus a cake. We thanked her quite a bit. She’d upped her game, but this was vintage Mom with only a few tweaks. I saw Angie get a trifle emotional, and to be honest, I was, too. After three years, it was still special being a kid again, with her as my Mom. I’d be giving up ‘kid’ status in a year, and happily so, but unlike most kids, I knew what I’d be giving up along with it, and so did Angie.

Everything changes, or perhaps nothing stays the same. Knowing what you’re losing is as important as knowing what you’re gaining. One thing we might maybe gain would be the ability to share who we really were, but neither Angie nor I knew how they would take that. In our hearts, we wanted to share it. At the same time, we also were extremely hesitant.

After dinner, I worked on a little homework (no time like the present), but was ready for bed by nine-fifteen, not long after Mom and Dad had gone to bed themselves.

9:30pm

It was no surprise at all when Angie came in and headed right for the bed.

“It’s been too long!” she said, climbing in and hugging me.

We rubbed noses, then snuggled up.

“So ... no Nationals,” she said.

“No Nationals,” I agreed.

“I’m surprisingly okay with that.”

“Me, too. Maybe next year, maybe not. I think the people that are going are also the people that most deserved it.”

“Except Jas and Carole. I’m not sure what happened in finals, but they’re better than Lexi and Sheila and everyone — including Lexi and Sheila — knows it.”

“Sometimes judges are ... judges.”

“Three, though. Seems like it would have worked out,” she said.

“She didn’t seem upset. Maybe they had a bad round.”

“She’s got validation from ToC, at least. That says a lot.”

“It does.”

“So ... anything interesting? Dave Mayrink? Anything else?”

“Dave was ... um ... he’s a lot better.”

“Good!” she said, giggling a bit.

“I mean that more broadly. Not just with girls, or social skills, or whatever. It’s as if our maturity rubbed off on him. I think this Dave Mayrink may be more mature than the twenty-five-year-old married Dave I knew my first go-round.”

“That sounds like a good thing.”

“It is. I think things worked out for him — last I’d heard, he and his wife were still married — but I know how often he pissed her off by acting like a spoiled child. I don’t think this one will. It’s impressive, really.”

“Cool!”

“On the other hand, I think we might be seeing a negative ripple,” I said.

“Huh?”

“Nick Bell and Ryan Mason. I don’t remember them that well from my first go-round, but there was no Dave Mayrink in the picture, and Lizzie and Janet might have been a bit less ... amazing.”

“You have said that about them.”

“Yeah. They certainly never won State, much less twice. Anyway, I think Nick and Ryan are in a negative ripple. We’ve changed the world in a way that’s undermined them, and now they’re doing it to themselves. I know from Dave that their coach is upset with them. Dave and Adam will probably be Bellaire’s ‘A’ team next year, and like I said to Janet, over there, that matters.”

She giggled. “Yeah. Anyone at Memorial calling themselves the ‘A’ team would get a bunch of ‘I pity the fool!’ responses. It’d just be absurd.”

“I’m glad we’re like that. I’d hate to be all dog-eat-dog competitive.”

“Me, too! I just wouldn’t do it. Life’s too short, even when you get an extra one.”

“We have that perspective. Most high-schoolers don’t,” I said.

“Yeah. How could they? Anyway ... anything else?”

“Brad and Chelsea are good people. I’m sorry they plowed through a bunch of our teams, including us, but I’m glad they’re going to Nationals.”

“Cool.”

“There’s one thing...”

“What?”

“I was talking with Janet, and she made the point — again — that I’d made a big difference, and that part of it was how things went with Cammie. I’m certain she meant my knowing she’s lesbian and supporting her unconditionally. I mean, I proved that later with Lizzie, but no Cammie and...”

“Probably no Lizzie running at all, yeah. She opened up a lot even from when I joined the team to when she ran for Secretary.”

I nodded. “So, that’s a feel-good story. The thing is, she said that they’d experienced someone who was nice and friendly and welcoming and then found out that person looked down on them and was saying shit about them behind their backs.”

“Huh! Did she mean in Debate?”

“In context, I’m certain she did. I thought about it, and she could have meant someone did that during their freshman year, then graduated or left. In that case, I wouldn’t know them. I felt like she was ... I dunno ... implying? ... that I might know them, though. I’m not sure.”

“Ryan is the obvious suspect.”

“Yeah, but... too obvious, I think. I can’t see Ryan pretending to be all buddy-buddy, really. It had to be someone on the team before they were, too. That rules out Brad or Adam Camp. Larry Williams joined my freshman year, so not him. I’m assuming this is about a guy, but she didn’t say that. But, if it was, and they overlapped me, that leaves...”

Angie flushed a little, but said it along with me. “Ted Seiler. I... could he? Paige would’ve killed him!”

“Unless he hid it from her. I don’t know how much he knew about her behavior freshman year.”

“She was in Drama! Right through the wall! They have a reputation! An earned reputation!”

I chuckled. “I don’t know. It might be worth finding out, if there’s a way. I could check, or...”

“I will ... hint? Maybe? The last thing I want to do is impugn Paige’s brother.”

“Definitely not. I’ll see what Janet says. I need to give it some cooling-off time, though.”

“Of course. I mean, obviously, Janet knows I’m dating Paige, so...”

“Yeah. So.”

“That’s ... I hope it’s not him,” she said, yawning.

“Me, too.”

“Tired. Need to sleep.”

“I do, too.”

“Love you, big brother.”

“Love you, little sis.”

“Always.”

“Forever.”

Monday, April 18, 1983

What should have been a celebratory day started off terribly. I woke to the news that the US Embassy in Beirut had been attacked. They still didn’t know how many people were dead or injured, but it was a lot.

I’d known it was coming, of course, but not the month and not really even the year. There was little I could’ve done to prevent it even had I known. It wasn’t like Gene’s father. No note saying ‘beef up security, and here’s some proof based on a basketball game’ would’ve worked. And if it had? Those people had serious resources to try to find the sender.

Oh, most likely they wouldn’t. The Unabomber had sent things again and again and took a very, very long time to catch. Still, I was just as glad that I hadn’t had to make that decision. On the other hand, the universe could’ve spared those people this time.

Debate was featured during the morning announcements again. I didn’t get a mention, but that was fine. The list was long enough as it was. Quite a few people asked me to pass along congratulations, and I promised to do so.

That continued all day long. People asked me to congratulate everyone, or maybe some specific people. A surprising number of people mentioned Lizzie. I thought perhaps some people were still trying to make up for things they might have said or done in the past.

Drama was a few minutes of celebration, then right to work. Under a month to go until ‘The Sound of Music’ opened, and we still had quite a ways to go to be premiere-ready.

Debate, on the other hand, was a party, if perhaps more subdued because of the morning’s news. We were good at moving on, though. Bad news was part and parcel of our competitive lives. So we hugged and talked and hugged some more and talked even more. Meg again told us how proud she was of us, and we told her how much we loved her.

During a lull in the Debate party, I tapped Jaya on the shoulder and nodded to a quiet corner. The study room might’ve sent too much of a message.

“Yes?” she said.

“I just wanted to say I’m still thinking about things. I don’t want to promise, because I don’t think one can promise, ethically...”

She nodded. “I understand that, and agree.”

“Also ... we’re just busy, and this needs to be ... well, not a rushed thing some night.”

“I agree with that, too,” she said, eyes twinkling. “That’s part of why. It’ll be... right ... or it won’t be.”

“That’s how it should be.”

“I can wait,” she said. “I’m not in a rush. When it’s right, it’ll be right. If it’s never right, I’ll be sad, but happier than doing something ... not right.”

“Thanks, Jaya.”

“Thank you, Steve!”

She snuck a quick kiss, then headed back to the party. I was pretty sure that Amit had spotted it. I was also pretty sure that he wouldn’t be concerned.

Most likely Cammie saw it, too. She wouldn’t be concerned either.

Jas and I left school together and headed right for Pho King. Huong was nowhere to be seen, but the guy at the counter recognized us and said hello and that it was her day off. I was glad she got days off!

“How’re you feeling about it all?” I said.

She shrugged. “In some ways, it feels like we should have done better, but ... in others ... I mean, I’m not having any big doubts or anything.”

“I didn’t mean that. Really. I just meant...”

“I know,” she said, smiling. “You just wanted to take care of me. I’m fine. We have ToC this weekend, anyway. That’ll be hard, but it’s awesome, too. I just can’t be down when we get to go there. It’s kinda cool that we get this and Sheila and Lexi get Nationals.”

“It is.”

“And ... you?”

It was my turn to shrug. “I’m glad Janet and Lizzie get to go, and I’m somewhat glad we didn’t take both CX slots after taking both LD slots. It’s a lot, really.”

“Yeah, and we don’t need all the other schools trying to bring us down.”

“We’ll get some of that anyway. It beats the alternative.”

“Being a pushover and everyone knowing that?” she said, grinning. “Yeah. It does.”

“How’re you feeling about ‘The Sound of Music’ with a month to go?”

“I am going to kick ass as Maria!”

“Hopefully not literally.”

“Georg deserves it! But, no, alas. That’d be some modern revisionist version. I’d love it, but ... nah. And you?”

“I’m a charmer and a rogue. What can I say?”

She giggled. “You have all of the good nature that Rolf turns out not to have, in the end. I’m looking forward to it, though.”

“I am, too, but I’m in way fewer scenes than you are.”

“It was ... I kinda needed that. I know ... I know ... that I didn’t do anything wrong last summer, Drama-wise. But I need to really tackle a major role and kick ass with it.”

“And you are, and you will.”

“Am, and will, yes!” she said, grinning. “And that’s enough small talk. Soup! Eat! We have a date!”

I grinned and slurped soup a little faster. As usual, there were leftovers. Angie would be happy.

A couple of hours later, we’d worn ourselves out in Jasmine’s bed.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” I said.

She sighed and snuggled in a little tighter. “How are we handling this at Northwestern?”

“I don’t know yet, but I’m working on a few things.”

“Motel? Back halls? Beach?”

“Something,” I said. “We won’t go without for seven weeks.”

“Hell, no. I’d sneak into the boys’ dorm through a window if I have to!”

I chuckled. “We don’t want to get sent home.”

“Mama will understand!”

“She would, but Steffie might be a bit more peeved.”

“Steffie will be fine!”

“Working on it. I’ll let you know if I get anything.”

“Good,” she said, sighing. “I really like this. A lot. College will be so nice.”

“It will be.”

“And ... on that note ... I should let you get home. We don’t need to annoy your parents yet.”

“Definitely not.”

I left half an hour later, showered and presentable. Mom and Dad were already in bed by the time I got home, but I wouldn’t put it past Mom to know I’d showered, even so.

Tuesday, April 19, 1983

We had way too much cake. That, or we had the exact right amount of cake (which was quite a bit).