Chapter 133: Packing, and Unpacking

Saturday, June 4, 1983

Today was our last meeting with Jane before Northwestern. That would be our longest period without her since we’d met her, and we were a bit nervous about it. That said: she was just a phone call away, and we seldom actually needed her, so much as we needed to know we had a sounding board and a friendly ear whenever we needed it, and one that we could, and would, tell anything.

I had a few topics to discuss, and I was pretty sure Angie did, too. At least nothing was big. The big issues were on hold, thankfully.

This time Angie went first, so I sat and quietly read while Mom flipped through magazines. I wasn’t sure why she didn’t just bring a book — she certainly read enough — but she nearly always opted for the magazines. Perhaps it’s just a medical office cliché: since they put out magazines, people feel obligated to read them.

Angie and Jane came out and smiled at me. I got up, headed over, and Angie and I touched hands as we passed. Once we were in her office, Jane and I hugged, and then we took our usual seats.

“So ... Angie says everything is going well?”

I nodded. “Finals felt good, but I haven’t gotten my grades back yet. Teachers go a bit crazy getting seniors’ grades out in time for graduation but, beyond that, the rest of us find out in a week or so. You know the show went well. The cast party was fairly tame. We took a trip to Galveston and are planning a camping trip — well, a trip to a campground, anyway — next week.”

She nodded. “Angie told me most of that.”

“Prom is certainly the biggest story, and it feels like the fallout has died down. I’m sure I’ll hear a bit more about it at Lizzie and Janet’s farewell party next weekend, but the media has moved on. As far as I can tell, Principal Riggs has, too, plus the School Board. Nothing on my radar, anyway. Something might come up around Nationals, especially if Lizzie and Janet do well. And ... they might do well.”

She nodded again. “It’ll be interesting.”

“To be honest, it vastly exceeded my expectations, which worries me. I knew this could change history, but I suppose I had a blind spot around it becoming as much of a story as it has. People will write about Memorial’s Prom of 1983 in future histories. Probably as a footnote, but perhaps as more of the story. It makes me nervous.”

“It doesn’t make me as nervous, but that’s probably because I only know this version. I don’t know what there is to ... mess up. Of course, you being nervous tends to make me nervous, but that’s different.”

“Yeah. I get that. I don’t know what it might mess up either. We’re pretty thoroughly into the Butterfly Effect here. We’ve mowed down quite a number of butterflies, and who knows what will change?”

She chuckled a bit, nodding.

“I’m still trying to decide what to do with it. I mean ... suppose there’s more press coverage, for whatever reason. Do I play things down? Play them up? Try to press the advantage, or sit on my hands? I’m not sure I’ll decide until I get there.”

“I don’t have advice there, but I trust you to make good decisions.”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling. “Switching subjects, our Northwestern issue is solved.”

“Angie told me that your friend Mikayla is renting an apartment early.”

“Exactly. The fake-ID version might have been better, since we wouldn’t be risking messing Mikayla up, but ... well. She likes the idea of helping, and it’s simpler this way.”

“I’d say to just be careful, but I know who I’m dealing with.”

“Definitely.”

“Anything else on your mind?”

“A couple of things. I’ll start with one that’s been building up.”

“What’s that?”

“I talked to Jess the other day about ... well, me. Basically, Linda said some things, and then some other things, and Angie said some things, and ... the gist of it all is that I’ve always seen myself at one level in the high school pecking order, and I added some in my head, but apparently not nearly enough.”

She nodded. “I’d have taken that for granted when you and Jess started going out.”

“Ah, but that’s you!” I said. “To me, it was reasonable that Jess might ... reach down a bit, I suppose ... and I’d shift up a bit. Apparently, it’s more that I’d already moved up a bit more than I thought, and Jess moved me up even more.”

“That makes complete sense to me, but so does you not recognizing it. You’re not attuned to these things in either the way girls are or in the way status-seeking boys are.”

“It’s strange thinking of myself as the sort of person others look at and say ‘He’s out of my league.’”

“Because you’re not, but they don’t know that. You could be. Ninety-nine out of a hundred high school boys would’ve dumped Jasmine and gone for it with Jessica, particularly once she started falling for you, and taken the consequences. If so, you’d have jumped into her league and likely stayed there. I’m not saying it would’ve worked out, just that she would’ve made it a clean breakup, which would leave you firmly established as being in the same league as the head cheerleader.”

“It adds something to Angie’s repeated comments that I’d be dangerous if I wanted to just collect as many girls as possible.”

She chuckled. “Very dangerous. I’d tell you not to, but that would make no difference if you were that sort of person.”

“Yeah. I think so, too. Fortunately, I’m not, and if I tried to become that, Angie would kick my ass. As would Mom and Dad. And Jess. And Jas, though I suppose by definition she’d be out of the mix, or perhaps cheering me on, if it was just sex and not romance.”

“I ... wouldn’t count on that. Maybe Angie. You’re too smooth for the others. You’d get Jessica on your side. Jasmine’s already mostly there. Angie has the perspective to know that short-term fun can lead to long-term disaster and the maturity to stick to it even if you turn on the charm. Or ... I think she does, anyway. Also, I’d be there.”

“But that version of me would ignore you.”

“Except that I’d tell Helen, and you wouldn’t ignore her.”

“You have a point there. Good. I’m all for more guardrails.”

She smiled and nodded, then said, “So ... we’re good there?”

“We’re good. I just have to come to terms with this, without overstimulating my ego and remembering that my big-fish, small-pond status comes to an end when I get to college.”

“I doubt that. You — and Angie — will excel pretty much everywhere.”

“Thanks. So ... there’s one more thing. Nothing to be done about it, but it crossed my mind.”

“What’s that?”

“Well ... I was thinking, again, of the versions of us that were here before Angie and I ... arrived.”

She nodded. “And?”

I shook my head. “Before I go on, tell me what you think about that.”

She paused, collecting her thoughts. “I think ... well ... both are tragedies. Presumably, both of you would have died, or perhaps simply had serious brain issues or the like. Angie would’ve been raped. You might have been savaged by animals or bitten by snakes or the like.”

I nodded. “That’s ... part of where I’m going.”

“Well ... without them getting injured, you and Angie wouldn’t have had a place to go, presumably. At least, that’s the hypothesis, based on limited information.”

“Getting a little closer, but off. Think parents.”

She blinked, then nodded. “Oh! In your case, Sam and Helen would’ve been devastated if you hadn’t arrived. In Angie’s case, Sharon would’ve lost a daughter, and I’m sure Sam and Helen, and your aunt and uncle, would’ve felt a loss, though not even close to the same loss.”

“That’s almost it. The missing part is the part I’ve been thinking about. Sam and Helen, and everyone else, still lost something.”

“I’m not following.”

“They lost the chance to parent teenagers. Me, for certain, and Angie in the way they did in her first life. We’re teenagers, but we’re also not teenagers. I was a pretty independent kid my first go-round, but I wasn’t me. Angie ... that’s a little tougher, since I didn’t know her my first go round. Maybe this Sam and Helen would’ve gotten it right with a genuinely thirteen-year-old Angie. After all, they’d be starting years earlier.”