Chapter 127: Classic High School Date?

Monday, May 16, 1983

We all got a surprising number of positive comments and claps on the back and so forth. The auditorium wasn’t that big, and a lot of parents and other adults had been there. Nevertheless, it was fun being recognized. The whole ‘celebrity’ thing had grown on me, though I was pretty sure I could only take so much of it. On the other hand, that was unlikely to be an issue at any of the colleges we were considering, barring my going out of my way to raise my profile. Admittedly, that was ... not impossible. Give me the right cause to champion and I just might do it.

Jas and I discussed it and decided to move my date with Linda to Wednesday. We’d do something (as yet unspecified) on the weekend.

Linda had nothing that night and liked the plan, so everything was set.

After school, we converged on the library. This would be the last meeting for Tony, Troy, Mikayla, Lizzie, and Theresa. Mel had brought a cake, courtesy of the Social Committee, which read ‘Good Luck, Seniors! We’ll Miss You!’

Good cake, too. Very good.

By this point in the year we had very little business. Mel presented the official report on Prom, which was simply that ‘a good time was had by all’ and that we’d done well financially. There would be a more detailed report which would likely include the more unusual aspects of Prom 1983, but that didn’t need to be discussed by Student Council.

We applauded, though, and there were plenty of grins. Lizzie, of course, seemed particularly in agreement.

The other committees were (by and large) done. One by one, Tony presented motions to thank each committee for their service and relieve them of their obligations. We would reappoint most of the chairs in the fall, but (technically, at least), they were now free to decline and it wouldn’t be a ‘resignation’ or anything of the sort.

We had almost no paint to dry, either. We’d pared that down considerably. The only major action item was a report on Student Council’s activities, which Tony had prepared and we voted unanimously to approve. It was dry as desert sand, but covered everything we’d done, including Operation Graduation, the dress code changes, the dances, and so forth.

We didn’t pat ourselves on the back unnecessarily, nor did we need to. The seniors were already set for college, and the rest of us had more than enough we could point to and write about, plus everything we’d do next year.

Tuesday, May 17, 1983

Carole handed out invitations to the ‘unofficial’ cast party during Drama. All indications were that this year’s would be tamer than last year’s, but who knows? It was set for Thursday the 26th, where — hopefully — we wouldn’t lose anyone to Memorial Day vacation plans. If we did, we did. As soon as school’s out, it’s always a gamble as to who will be available when, but there was no good day on which to hold it before school let out, at least not for the group we had.

Rita met us as we came in.

“That was one great show! Wanted to say it again, in a less crowded location.”

“Thanks, Rita!” Jas said, giving her a hug.

Angie, Paige, and I followed suit.

“Any idea what y’all have planned for next year?”

Angie shook her head. “Nah. Steffie won’t even give us a list until next year, and then we vote, and then she announces the winner.”

“Whatever it is, we’ll be there!”

We headed downstairs and got to studying. We had a new finals schedule this year, intended to better serve the graduating seniors (and hopefully still work fine for the rest of us). We would have one final Friday and the rest on Monday and Tuesday. As always, everyone was in good shape. Also as always, no one wanted to screw up at the last minute.

Halfway through, Sue brought out a cake for Gene’s birthday. He blushed a bit more than I’d have expected, but seemed genuinely touched and very happy.

Perhaps his blowing-out-the-candles wish involved a nap, and perhaps it didn’t, but they took one either way.

Wednesday, May 18, 1983

Thinking about my date with Linda tonight, part of me felt bad about putting Jaya off while taking Linda out, but the two weren’t similar. Jaya’s request was significant and deserved to be treated as such. We’d need to borrow a bedroom — perhaps Andrew’s — or I’d need to get a hotel room or the like. The back seat of my car wasn’t going to cut it, not for me, and even if she’d been okay with it (which, honestly, she might have been), I’d have felt ... wrong ... about it to the level where it probably would’ve been an issue.

Perhaps I was overthinking things. Plenty of girls lost their virginities in the backs of cars, right? Why not Jaya? The answer came down to: because I thought it was a bigger thing than that. Not because it meant something, but because it was likely going to be a lifelong memory, and (in my opinion, at least), a lifelong memory probably shouldn’t involve being cramped and uncomfortable, worried about being caught or making noise, and so on and so forth. Perhaps if she were like Mikayla that would be completely different, but she’d have to already know that was a major fantasy, and she didn’t.

We’d discussed it, and I’m pretty sure she was on the same page, but it’s not easy to tell. She might’ve just been playing along.

We’d get our chance after the semester was over. In the meantime, thinking too much about her would slight Linda.

Darla remained a bit of a mystery. I wasn’t sure how her relationship was going, but then it wasn’t something I needed to be sure about. Sometimes I felt like she might be envious of Linda, and then sometimes ... not. We’d figure it out if we needed to.

After class, Linda and I walked to my car and headed off on our date.

“Where are we going for dinner?” she said, as I helped her into the car.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Want to pick?”

“Can I?” she said, giggling.

“Why not?”

“Hrmph. You already picked lobster. So much for that plan.”

“If there’s something you’d like, just tell me.”

“We’d get arrested!”

“To eat.”

“I repeat: we’d get arrested!”

“This is where Angie usually bops me on the shoulder.”

“I’ll consider myself bopped. Um ... I think I’m in the mood for a really classic high school date. How about hamburgers?”

“Pop’s?”

“Read my mind!”

I chuckled and drove there, which took just a couple of minutes.

“Voila! Your wish is my command!”

She grinned. “Good!”

We headed in and were quickly seated. The waiter looked at me slightly oddly. He seemed familiar, so I suspected he’d seen me with Jasmine on Friday. Anyone who didn’t know me might assume I was ... misbehaving. That might be an issue down the road. Who knows?

Neither of us really needed the menu, but we looked anyway. We both picked the bacon cheeseburger and we both picked Diet Coke. We decided to share fries. As many calories as we both burned, there still wasn’t that much of a need for too many fries.

“So,” I said. “How’s the end of your semester looking?”

“Good!” she said. “I think straight A’s. Trig is still kicking my ass a bit, but it should be okay.”

“That’s good.”

“I assume you’re getting straight A’s.”

I nodded. “So far, so good.”

“You could go anywhere.”

I shrugged. “I suspect you could, too.”

She blushed a bit at that, but nodded. “Actually ... probably? Some schools ... it’s not fair, but some places see ‘Cheerleader’ on an application and count off for it. It’s pretty well known. It’s like we must be airheads, but some of us get good grades because the teachers are ogling us or something. I don’t know. But, yeah, I think the SAT score will outweigh that.” She paused, then shrugged.

I nodded, then said, “It’s not about being able to go anywhere, at least for me. Most of the fields I’m drawn to aren’t ones where the university’s name is going to be a big factor. Unlike you, for instance.”

She nodded.

I continued, saying, “You might want to study English Literature. An Ivy League school for that is completely different than UH or even Rice. Whereas ... suppose I major in business. Who cares where I went for undergrad, when the thing that’s going to matter is where I go for my MBA?”

“Except for MBA schools,” she said, grinning. “I mean, fair’s fair. A Lit PhD from Harvard counts the same if you went to undergrad at Yale or at UH. It’s just much easier to get into Harvard’s PhD program with a degree from somewhere prestigious.”

“Sure. Most of my graduate options rely on tests a lot more, though. The GMAT or LSAT don’t care at all where you went.”

“True.”

“Anyway, I’m also trying to go with Jas and Angie, at least. So I need somewhere we can all go. Their grades are just as good, but it’s still a factor. The Ivies are a roll of the dice even if you check all the boxes. Three rolls of the dice makes it harder. And their thoughts on majors aren’t necessarily mine.”