Chapter 52: Growth and Potential

Thursday, November 18, 1982

Most of our friends had gotten their scores already, and others trickled in over the next few days. Everyone in our Study Group was over the cutoff score, which is ... remarkable, really. It didn’t surprise me, but it’s another of those things that’s better once you see it happen.

Of those outside Study Group, Lexi and Carole both narrowly missed. Amit was easily over; no surprise. Nor was Darla a surprise, though she professed to being amazed. Linda ... shouldn’t have been a surprise, but was. I still didn’t know her that well. Paige was over, Sara was just under. Bob, surprising me again, was over.

No surprise at all, to me anyway, was Jessica, tying my score with one miss on each section. Knowing her, she’d done that intentionally. Oh, not to tie with me, but just to have the perfect amount of imperfection.

Neither was Sue’s perfect score, tying Connie.

Principal Riggs was going to be very happy. Principals love big numbers for things like how many National Merit Scholars they graduate.

Angie, Jasmine, and I went to a formal-wear rental shop after school and picked out my tux for Winter Formal. For me, it was very restrained. Black tux, white shirt, forest green bow tie and cummerbund.

I’d considered just buying a tux, but it was too early. Unless this me was going to differ significantly from the first me, I still had about two inches of height and a bit of width in my shoulders to go. Admittedly, my proportions were fairly different this time, so who knows? I’d also gained three more shoe sizes, though those took a while — the last two didn’t happen until after college.

I’d enjoyed owning a tux my first go-round, though. When I stopped growing this time, I’d likely buy one. There are always excuses to wear one. If nothing else, just take a cruise now and then. We should be easily able to afford that.

On the drive to Jasmine’s after picking up my tux, I thought more about buying a tux, and figured I’d involve Jas and Angie.

“Hey, honey?” I said, glancing over to Jasmine.

“Huh?” she said.

“How much more do you think I’m going to grow?”

She bit her lip. “Um ... hopefully not too much! You’re already a fair bit taller than I am. Unless you meant somewhere else? In which case, there can be too much of a good thing!”

Angie giggled quite a lot at that.

I chuckled. “No, I meant height. Well, and weight, I suppose.”

This time, she gave me a more critical appraisal. Angie did, too.

“I think ... a couple more inches. Of height!” Jasmine said.

Angie giggled again but nodded. “Yeah. I’d guess that, too. Which seems pretty good.”

“Speak for yourself! You’ve already got six inches on me,” Jasmine said.

“I’m no Megan.”

“Okay, fine, but still!”

I shrugged. “Not a problem for me. I think you’ve probably grown at least an inch since we’ve been going out.”

“And you’ve grown three! Even Angie’s grown more!” Jasmine pretended to pout. I figured I’d get whapped if I said she was cute, particularly since that would emphasize her short stature.

Angie to the rescue, mostly. “So? I don’t think Jessica’s gained an inch over that time. Anywhere! Connie has, but she’s still quite a bit shorter.”

“Yeah,” Jasmine said. “Jimmy towers over her.”

“I’m probably near done,” Angie said. “Maybe another inch.”

“Me, too,” Jasmine said. “Guessing Jessica’s done. Connie ... maybe. For her sake, I hope not!”

We continued, comparing notes. Mel and Cammie were pacing each other. Mike and I were close, and so were Sarah and Jas. Andy was big, and Cal was just plain huge. I’d put Cal just short of my first-life weight, but with four more inches of height, and a ridiculous amount of additional muscle, compared to first-life me. Andy had another inch on Cal, but weighed considerably less. The move to tight end had been perfect for him — he was strong enough to block, but fast enough and with good hands, even compared to many of the other receivers.

Freshmen were starting to look ... small. Not entirely, and some — like Sam — were small. But we were moving up, becoming the adults we’d be. In Angie’s case, and in mine, becoming the adults we’d be this time.

“You know...” Angie said.

“What?” Jasmine said.

“It’s not just that, and ... well. Some of this won’t hit you as much. We — I mean, Steve and I — have talked about how much Jimmy has grown. He’s a completely different person than the guy we first met, in a lot of ways. Connie’s changed even more — she was shy and nervous, but now she’s full of self-confidence. Mike’s a whole lot more grown-up, and that’s nothing on Mark and Morty. Emily, too, really — she was more mature than they were, but she’s grown a lot. I can’t believe they’re still together, except ... I can, too.”

I nodded. “And Mel and Cammie are ... the same, but better. I mean, a lot better. Mel felt ... out of place, I guess ... until things with Cammie came out, but even then ... now, it’s just Cammie’s parents holding them back, really.”

Jasmine grinned. “Well, there’s Paige, too. Or Sheila, or even Lexi. They’re all really different, and it’s not just Steve’s influence. Or yours, Angie, on Paige. It’s everything.”

“Yeah,” Angie said. “Even Gene. Even if I’m not sure he’s ‘the one’, he’s a good guy, and a better guy than he was when we started. Bigger, too. Yes, all around!”

That got both girls giggling. I’m not sure I needed to know that, but ... whatever.

After a second, they grinned at me, and Angie said, “You have nothing to worry about, big brother!”

“Believe me,” Jasmine said. “Nothing. At all. Not a thing.”

“I’m happy you both approve,” I said, narrowly avoiding blushing. I think I did, anyway.

We chattered away until we got to Jasmine’s, then parted with hugs and kisses.

Angie grinned once we were going. “Interesting conversation, considering we already know the answers.”

“Do we?”

“Um ... I think so?”

“See ... I think so, too. But I don’t know. The differences between this me and first-life me are more than just weight, but I don’t know what that means. Is it just fitness? I don’t remember my first-life body that much, now, except for being fat, tired much too often, and sore in a lot of places I’m not sore now. Knees in particular — those were trashed.”

“Huh. Come to think of it, I guess I’m not sure how you compare to Iceberg Steve. He was carrying a fair bit of extra weight, but ... yeah. I think just fitness, but I don’t know that. Remember, it’d been ... well, nearly a decade since I’d seen even a picture of him.”

“Which is weird.”

“Oh, hell, yeah. Completely weird. I am so thankful that you’re not him! You have no idea. For your sake, for mine, for everyone’s!”

“How about you? Remember that the last time I saw first-life Angie would’ve been summer 1982, and that was briefly at a funeral. We spent like two awkward minutes actually interacting.”

“Ugh. Yeah. I worry about her! Anyway ... I think ... I think I’m actually a little different, but it could be fitness, too. I only grudgingly exercised during my first life, until prison, when it both passed some time and made me less of a pushover. Anyway, that was enough, because high school makes you move, and we only had one car when I was in college, so I rode the bus and walked a lot. Plus, not a ton of money for food. Plus ... drugs. I mean, pot will give you an incredible case of the munchies, but if you don’t have food, you don’t have food.”

“And I am so thankful you’re not her! Either version, though all I really know about my first-life version is that she got to prison faster than you did.”

“Like I said ... I worry. I have to ask — how’d all this come up?”

“The tux.”

“Huh?”

“I was thinking that I should just buy one, but obviously not when I’m still growing this much. That’d be dumb.”

“You’re very handsome in a tux, but, yeah, hold off on buying one for now. Same with me — I’m closer, and I have a lot more flexibility in some ways, but the serious dress-buying needs to wait a year. I might wind up with a bit more up top.”

“I have no complaints.”

She giggled. “Nor do I! Jasmine does...”

“But she shouldn’t. She’s perfect.”

“It’s almost like dicks, for guys. Girls want more, mostly. It’s just how we are. There’s a reason boob jobs are so popular, and it’s not just to provide eye candy for guys!”

“Or marketing,” I said.

“Or that! Nah, it’s ... girls feel a bit more ... I don’t know. Just ... a bit ... more.”

“I don’t think I care if they’re well done and proportional. If not, then, please no! And I wouldn’t ever ask someone to, and not just because I’m ... me. Say, if Jasmine wanted to, I wouldn’t get upset or anything, because it’d be for her. But it’s not for me. I don’t think it would change how I think about her.”

“Which makes you ... not unique, but unusual. Trust me.”

All of this suddenly gave me an idea, out of nowhere. A very interesting idea. I’d — hopefully! — learned my lesson from my last really bright idea. Might as well mention it to Angie now.

“This is giving me an idea.”

“Mmm? Of course, boobs give you ideas. You’re a guy! Not that they don’t give me ideas, and I’m not a guy, but still...”