Chapter 129: End of an Era

Sunday, May 22, 1983

Finals, as always, was the most ‘all business’ of any ‘all business’ Study Group meetings. No naps at this one, no games, no swimming. We did have some snacks and played a bit of music, but we were all taking no chances with our grades.

I put together a ridiculous plan for Tuesday night, involving Jas, Angie, Paige, and ... maybe Jess. It was pretty high on the unlikelihood scale. However, Jas, Angie, and Paige were surprisingly into the idea, so it was a go.

Jas called home and, as expected, Camille was fully on board. Paige, on the other hand, needed to do a fair bit of pursuading, but wound up getting permission.

It was crazy, but ... you only live twice?

Monday, May 23, 1983

I stopped Jess as we were heading to lunch.

“Got a bit of time to talk on Tuesday, after our last final?”

She smiled, nodding. “Sure! What’s up?”

“Just some ... observations.”

“Interesting! Lunch?”

“That was my thought,” I said.

“I’m sure I’ll like whatever you pick. It’s a date!”

“After that...” I said, and then I told Jess about the Tuesday night plan Angie, Jas, Paige, and I had. She looked as if she was struggling not to squeal.

“Seriously? You’re really doing that?”

“We are.”

“I...”

“You’re welcome to join us. I checked. I wouldn’t have mentioned it except to invite you.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

She looked like she was seriously in thought. Finally, she sighed. “I can’t. I mean ... I could. But I can’t. It might be awkward, and ... I...”

Then she shook her head. “Damn it! I need to ... look, let me check with my parents. I think I’m in.”

“Cool!”

Tuesday, May 24, 1983

Throughout last week and this short week I’d been signing seniors’ yearbooks. Mikayla, of course. Lizzie and Janet, Callie and Kenzie, Brad, Caitlyn, Charles, Debra, John, and so many more. Tony and Troy and Theresa. Cheryl Hall, which was a surprise that perhaps shouldn’t have been, and a number of other senior cheerleaders along with her.

Somehow it still hadn’t truly dawned on me just how many seniors I knew and was friends with. That’s a bit unusual for high school, though not so much for people who are involved in extracurriculars.

I’d miss them all. Hopefully, they’d all go on to do great things.

Drama’s final had been singing our way through ‘Cats’. Several people added quite a few meows and other silly sounds.

For Debate, we watched ‘Monty Python Live At The Hollywood Bowl’ and quoted sketches. I wasn’t allowed to use either one that I’d used for Humorous Interp. That seemed fair enough.

Jaya and I reconfirmed our date, set for Saturday the 28th. I checked with Linda and found out she’d be out of town from Friday until Sunday, June 5th. We might be able to get together before our summer programs, or we might not.

Darla looked a little ... wistful, perhaps ... as Linda and I talked. I had no idea what was going on with her. She’d been tight-lipped enough about her dating that Linda said she didn’t really know if it was working or not. I suspected one shoe or the other would drop in the fall.

As the class ended, Meg stood.

“This is ... always hard. I hate saying goodbye, or even farewell, but here I am doing it. Mikayla, you’ve only been in my class for a year, but you’ll be missed, believe me! Brad, you’ve been here for three. Thank you for sticking it out! I remember some of the ... mischief ... at that Dallas tournament.”

Brad shook his head, smiling. “Sorry about that!”

“Obviously, it’s long forgiven.”

“Thanks, Meg!”

“Then we have Kenzie and Callie. I could always tell you apart, even when you thought I couldn’t.”

That got both of them blushing. I wondered if there were stories I didn’t know. Almost certainly.

“What would I have done without you? For one thing, missed a couple of State championships! Thank you so much for all your hard work, and thank you even more for all of the work you’ve put into mentoring other LDers.”

They rose and took a bow, together.

“Last, but certainly not least ... Elizabeth Vinton and Janet Collins.”

The two waved.

“I still remember you walking into my room on your first day. Lizzie, you looked angry with the world, but still — somehow — also willing to take a chance on the rest of the kids.”

Lizzie blushed. “You don’t know how close it was, sometimes, Meg.”

I could likely have counted on one hand the number of times I’d seen Lizzie blush. It was ... strangely heartwarming.

“I know more than you think,” she said, which deepened Lizzie’s blush.

Meg smiled, then continued, “And then ... Janet ... who almost literally exploded into my room about five minutes later.”

“It was totally not my fault!” Janet said. “This school is bogus, you know? I didn’t even know which wing it was, then I was way on the other end...”

Everyone laughed. Loudly!

“I had no idea what to make of you two. At the time, I couldn’t have foreseen you two even teaming up, much less what a team you’d make.”

Janet joined Lizzie in blushing.

“And I mean in life even more than in CX! You’re not the first gay students I’ve coached, but you’re the first to debate and graduate as a couple, and damn sure the first to make national news doing it!”

I might’ve been the first to start clapping, but it was close between me, Angie, Cammie, Jas, Paige, and Callie and Kenzie. Within seconds everyone joined in.

Meg gave us about thirty seconds, then shushed us. “Tom Myerson is going to have my neck!” she said, chuckling. His classroom was directly above ours.

Lizzie and Janet held hands, and Lizzie said, “I want to thank you right back, Meg. And ... well... all of you, in your way. Some more than others, and you likely know that, but all of you. When I first signed up, mostly I just wanted to learn how to argue, by which I pretty much meant beat people up with words, ‘cuz I’m not built to do a lot of beating with my fists.”

That got a good chuckle.

“Those of you who were there know how big a chip I had on my shoulder, and why, and ... it was justified. It was! People shouldn’t be treated like I was. But, then ... pieces fell into place. One of those, the most important one, took months, but ... well, just, thank God I was in the right class!”

“Me, too!” Janet said.

“Then ... well ... some things still sucked. Then they didn’t, and then ... then they really didn’t. I thought Tom Myerson was a hare-brained fool for asking me to humiliate myself in front of the whole school, except that everyone knows he’s no one’s fool, and Steve and Amit had my back, too. If not for that, I never would’ve done it.”

I blushed a bit, and I’m pretty sure Amit did, too, though it’s harder to tell with him.

“Meg, you changed my life.”

“Our lives!” Janet said.

Callie said, “Meg, you’ve changed all our lives.”

That got another rowdy round of applause, though we cut ourselves off sooner.

“I’ll miss you, Mikayla, Brad, Callie, Kenzie, Janet, and Lizzie. All of you stay in touch, please! Oh, I’ll see some of you in a few weeks at Nationals, but this is the time for farewells.”

We dissolved into a wave of hugs. Even knowing this was coming, even having planned for it for a year, even having done it before, it was still hard to think that I’d be coming to this room for another year and all of them would be gone.

That said: look at who would still be here. Next year was going to be a terrific year, and that’s what all of them would’ve wanted. Everyone who’s on a high school team (or, at least, a good team, by which I mean one where the members like and respect and support each other) knows they’ll graduate, and everyone wants the team itself to go on and not miss a beat.

Lizzie hugged me late in things. “Thanks, one more time, for everything, Steve.”

“You’re welcome, Lizzie.”

“You’re special. Wherever we go, you and Angie, and Jasmine, and perhaps Paige,” she said, grinning just a little, “are always welcome. Please stay in touch.”

“I will. And, Lizzie?”

“Yes?”

“Kick ass. Both of you.”

She grinned. “Oh, we will!”

“One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“When you get there ... well, if there’s any sort of ... celebration ... call it what you will ... we’ll be there with bells on.”

She misted up just a bit. “Thanks! And thanks for putting it that way. We’re not sure what to call it, yet.”

“Call it what you want. No one says you can’t use whatever word suits you.”

“True enough!”

“The same for you. I know it’s early, but I see you and Jas...”

“You’ll be on the guest list, if and when.”

“We’ll be honored.”

I headed outside to the benches after class let out. Jess turned up about ten minutes later, giving me a quick hug, then taking my hand. Angie, Paige, and Jasmine followed along a bit behind.

“Remind me who you’re dating now,” I said, smiling.

“No one. I’m a free agent for the summer.”

“Good!”

“I’m doing a cheer program again,” she said. “This time, UCLA. I am not risking any ... run-ins.”

“Sounds good. Don’t let the bastards get you down!”

We got to my car and I helped her in. Angie, Jas, and Paige piled into the backseat, and I got us going.

Before we’d gone very far, she said, “Before you head wherever you’re heading, I decided to propose Rico’s.”

“I’m always game for Rico’s,” I said.

“I really like that place. It’s a good find!”

“Good for Rico, too, having people like you there.”

“I know! He says his business has almost quadrupled during the year and that he’s looking for a bigger place.”

“So much for the drug-smuggling operation.”

Jess chuckled. “Linda told me about that. It made sense!”

It was just a few minutes to Rico’s, and shortly we were seated and waiting for tacos. Rico himself was nowhere to be seen, but the cashier clearly knew both of us and told us our money was no good.

That was fine with me. I’d stuff some in the tip jar later, and so would Jess.

We took a table on one side of the small space, and the girls took one on the other end. Nothing we had to say was that big of a secret, but they’d respect our privacy. Besides, the mariachi music was fairly loud, and we weren’t the only customers.

“So, what’s up?” Jess said.

“Linda and I were talking, and ... apparently ... I’m somewhere between ‘a catch’ and ‘out of a lot of people’s leagues.’”

She nodded. “I’d have thought you’d have figured that out.”

“On some things, I’m a typical boy.”

“Testosterone poisoning is an impediment,” she said, grinning. “That, or those broken Y chromosomes.”

“We can’t all be the superior gender.”

“Hell, no! That’d be boring! Anyway ... yes, and you’re silly for not having seen it. You navigated the gossip network so well that I must’ve just figured that you did.”

“I missed it. I’m pretty sure that I told you that I’m still not great at seeing what girls see in boys...”

“That’s common enough. You’re unusual in that the idea of seeing it doesn’t scare you.”

“Why should it? If I found myself attracted, well ... I mean, I would be. Who knows what, if anything, I’d do about it, but I’d still be just as much ‘me’ as I was before.”

“Now, teach that to almost eight hundred other guys and we’ll have utopia at Memorial.”

“Easier said than done.”

“True. Okay, so ... you’re smart, handsome, empathetic, supportive, and totally not a wimp about it.”

“Linda made some of those points.”

“Look ... there are a bunch of cliques. You know that.”