Chapter 5: Dance / Romance

Saturday, July 17, 1982

I did virtually nothing most of the day. Yes, that’s well out of character, but it was worthwhile. I needed the breather.

Breakfast was lunch with Cammie. No Angie; her ankle was bothering her too much. Cammie took some breakfast with her for Angie, who was still planning on hobbling to the dance.

I spent the afternoon reading and listening to music on my Walkman. It worked out to be a pretty enjoyable day, and the sort of day I very seldom had anymore. I loved my life — but I also recognized that I was dangerously close to biting off more than I could chew. Junior year would be a bad time to burn out or hit a crisis.

I headed over to the cafeteria around 6pm and had dinner, sitting with a few people I somewhat knew and chatting about their programs and what their schools were like and the lives back home, and sharing some of the less ... interesting ... stories of mine. I wasn’t sure anyone would buy the more colorful ones.

After dinner, I went back and changed into my gold shirt and black pants. Henry just chuckled, but I got a few odd looks from the other guys. Oh, well; they could eat their hearts out.

We met in the dorm lobby and, once everyone was there — though I was sure we were still missing a few — two of the grad students led us off to the Student Union. I guess this was the best way to assure turnout.

Once we arrived, I hung out near the door and waited for Angie and Cammie. When I spotted them, Angie had a crutch this time. She was wearing a nice pink dress, while Cammie had opted for a fairly demure dark green number.

“Damn thing!” Angie said, waving the crutch a bit.

I gave her a careful hug. “Is it helping?”

“Yes ... but it’s painful and I hate it.”

“Is it worse today?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s actually better, but I’m going to be extra-careful for a few days.”

Cammie nodded. “Like you should have from the start.”

“Okay, okay, Miss Naggy. I’m using it!”

We settled down at a table near the dance floor. Few of the Debate crowd were as brave. The Drama people were much more inclined to sit close to the floor.

I caught Angie and Cammie up on things with Jasmine. Both were rather amused that she had a friend named ‘Blue.’ Not surprised, mind you. Just ... amused.

Dr. Bennett and Dr. Wood came out just after 8pm and welcomed everyone, trading off comments about how great each others’ students were. It sounded both earnest and like something they probably said every year.

After that, they gave us a bunch of simple dance rules and turned us loose, pretty much. The DJ started with Asia’s ‘The Heat of the Moment’, which sounded both appropriate and like something they’d told us to avoid.

Angie caught my eye and made a face as soon as it started. “Isn’t that exactly what they don’t want this to be?” she said, grinning.

Cammie chuckled. “Maybe the DJ is trying to subvert their plans.”

“Go, DJ, go!” Angie grinned. “Subvert the system!”

I grinned to Cammie. “Up for some subversion?”

“Can’t wait!”

“I have to, sadly,” Angie said, pouting.

With that, Cammie and I were up and dancing. Not the first time, and of course, just being long-time friends gave us an edge over most of these kids.

The DJ’s second song was ‘Hurts So Good’ by John Cougar (one day, soon, to add ‘Mellencamp’, but I couldn’t mention that just yet). Cammie chuckled. “Oh, we’ve definitely got ourselves an anarchist DJ!”

“Viva la revolución!”

A bunch of Drama kids added us to their group dance, which was just fine by me. I saw a couple of cute Drama girls, one blonde and one raven-haired, go over and check with Angie. After a bit, they came back to where we were and started dancing.

At a break, the blonde came up to me. “Hey! You’re Angie’s brother? Steve? Hi! I’m Tiff!”

“Hi, Tiff! Yes, I’m Steve, and yes, Angie’s brother.”

“Cool! She’s a hoot!”

“I’m Gail,” the other girl said. “We’re both from Illinois, but different parts.”

“Yeah, she’s from downstate,” Tiff said, giggling. “Angie’s at least from civilization, originally.”

I shrugged. “My Dad’s side of the family is from ‘civilization,’ but I have nothing against downstaters.”

“Good!” said Gail. “Well, I can imagine some things you could have against me, but it’d really upset the chaperones!”

“Gail!” Tiff said, giggling. “Too soon! Learn some subtlety!”

“Farm girl!” Gail said, pointing a thumb at herself. “We know it’s natural!”

The two kept at it as we got to dancing again. It was obviously a friendly rivalry.

Over the course of the evening, I danced — mostly fast, in groups — with a couple of dozen girls. More Drama than Debate, but some Debaters, too.

Perhaps half of the Debate kids made it onto the dance floor for more than one or two fast songs. The rest just danced that one or two, which they seemed to treat as an obligation. Far more of the Drama kids danced, but that was to be expected.

I managed a few slow songs with Gail and Tiff as well, and one each with about eight other girls. None of them were particularly memorable and, aside from their being friends with Angie, I wasn’t getting the strongest vibes from Gail or Tiff either.

They started letting kids leave around 10pm, provoking a quick exodus. By 11pm the place was about half full. There were a few surprises. Carla was not only dancing but seemed to be not that bad. I didn’t recognize the guy. Tiff had moved on and was dancing with Christopher, who didn’t seem all that bad either. Good for him.

Gail was still hanging around me. We’d taken another slow dance when she surprised me.

“Angie says you’re a good kisser. I mean, not that she’d know, I guess, but ... by reputation. She says you’re quite the lady-killer.”

I chuckled. “No deaths, nor even any serious injuries.”

“Funny, too!” She grinned. “Look ... obviously we’re going nowhere. Last weekend of the program, living in different states. But I’ve never been to a dance and not kissed someone, and it seems dumb to start now.”

I nodded. “I actually have, but not in a long while.”

She blinked. “Am I getting a hint of a story there?”

“I took a girl who needed a friend and nothing more.”

“Oh! Well, that’s more than good enough. Nice of you.”

“We had a great time.”

“Good. And ... still ... I haven’t gone without, and I don’t want to break my streak, so ... unless you don’t want to give it a try...”

I leaned in and kissed her. Just softly, in deference to the chaperones, but a nice kiss.

She giggled, after. “Mission ... sort of ... accomplished. For that sort of kiss, you maintain ‘good kisser’ status. But I need to know more.”

“I’m sure that I don’t have a problem with that.”

I spotted one of the grad student chaperones watching us. He shook his head slightly, but smiled, too. I nodded.

“Can’t push it here,” I said. “Big Brother is watching.”

“Pooh. Well, then. Rain check.”

“I can go with that.”

I danced one slow dance with Angie before we left. She said her ankle wasn’t bothering her. I wasn’t sure she was telling the truth, but one careful slow dance shouldn’t do much damage. I danced one with Cammie as well, for old time’s sake.

“We talked about you,” I said, holding her in my arms.

“We? You and Gail?” She was grinning.

“Yeah. She said she’d never been to a dance where she hadn’t kissed someone. I told her I had.”

She chuckled. “I came very close to actually kissing you when you said you were going to fail to kiss me, but ... I knew our little surprise was coming, and I didn’t want it to be any less of a surprise.”

“It was quite the surprise.”

“In retrospect, I should have.”

“Oh?”

She pulled me in and kissed me softly, then smiled. “Yeah. There are very few boys I’d ever consider kissing, but you’re one. Not romantically, certainly not sexually, but I love you, Steve Marshall.”

“And I love you, too, Cammie Clarke.”

We left shortly after, before the DJ got to the last dance. First time in this go-round that I’d left before the last dance, but I was tired, Angie was a bit bored, Cammie said she was exhausted, and I didn’t have anyone that was quite ... last-dance worthy.

Gail tagged along, as I’d expected she might. I figured I’d walk the girls all the way to their dorm. Gail took my hand about halfway, and leaned in.

“Old flame?” She nodded towards Cammie.

“Best friends. No romance, lots of friendship.”

“Not many guys would say that about a girl.”

I shrugged. “I’m not most guys. Most of my close friends are girls.”

“That can make dating lines tricky.”

“It can.”

“This is simple.” She stopped and pulled me into a kiss. A real kiss, lips parting, tongue seeking mine, pressing up against me. I did my best to return the favor.

Once we broke apart, Angie giggled. “Get a room!”

“If we could, I might!” Gail said.

“You’d have trouble getting Steve to go along with it,” Angie said.

“Huh?” Gail sounded minorly offended. I suppose it might come off that way.

“Big brother is not a sex-on-the-first-date sort of guy,” Angie said with a smirk.

“Huh. Seriously?” Gail asked.

“Seriously,” I said. “Hasn’t happened yet, anyway.”

“And you’ve turned down how many girls to keep that streak?”

I counted. “Um ... I could claim up to ... four?”

“Four’s about right,” Angie said.

“Wow. First time for everything,” Gail said.

“First time being the second or third time,” I said with a chuckle. “Or fourth, or fifth, or...”

“You’re funny. I like that. See, now I wish I had a room or something. I’d love to take a run at breaking your streak.”

I chuckled. “First time for everything.”

“Uh huh,” Gail said, smirking.

As we got back to her dorm, I decided to ask. It was an incredible long shot, but ... if the universe was sending messages with coincidences...

“Downstate? Not Carbondale?” I said.

Gail giggled. “Oh, God, no. Effingham. Carbondale is ... like ... well, we think of that as ‘downstate.’”

“Cool.” No message here, I guess.

“Why do you ask?”

Angie chimed in. “Steve met some girl from Carbondale and lost his heart to her forever.”

Cammie made a scoffing sound. “Um ... yeah ... no.”

“Girl?” Gail asked.

I shrugged. “We debated a team from Carbondale at a tournament in Dallas last year. One of them was a girl.”

“What’s her name? I mean, if she’s in debate ... well, we do go to the same tournaments, sometimes.”

“Laura ... um ... Waters. Her partner is Steve ... something.”

“Huh. I think ... nah. No. Nothing. I can check with someone from my school in debate, though.”

“Not a big deal. I mean, this is turning into ‘Hey, you live over a hundred miles from this girl I vaguely met at a tournament. You must know her, too.’”

Gail chuckled. “Hey, points to you for even knowing we’re that far from Carbondale. Yeah ... I mean ... most likely we’ve been at the same tournaments. There are only so many downstate. But, I don’t recognize her name at all.”

For the last part of the walk, Angie decided she needed a bit more support, so I helped her along. When we got to her dorm, she gave me a hug. “Thanks, big bro. I guess it’s worse again.”

“You take care of yourself, little sis.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Cammie made a gagging noise. “Aren’t they just sickeningly sweet?”

Gail chuckled. “Totally. But also really cool.”

“We’ll help her from here,” Cammie said. “Night, Steve.”

“Night, Cammie. Night, Gail.”

Both of them got hugs, too.

I thought about it a bit on the way home. It would’ve been a staggering coincidence for Gail to know Laura. That she didn’t proved nothing. If she had, it might have meant something, or not.

Gail was, in a way, what Jasmine had suggested. Find a girl, find an out-of-the-way place, and do something wild and crazy. Gail had even hinted she was willing, and we were no longer on a ‘first date,’ so I might not even feel weird about it. Except for the place, and the fact that I’d know there was a good chance it’d be a one-night-stand and that I’d never see her again, which I’d never done in my life.

Could I? The answer was likely ‘yes.’ I knew some places in the library that would likely work. Unromantic places, though there were some good make-out areas close to places with sufficient privacy.

Should I? That was a much tougher question. I thought Jasmine would say I should. Heck, I knew Jasmine would say I should. That it’d be good for me to have that experience. But ... was Jasmine right? And was she even thinking along the correct lines? She wasn’t judging what was right for me. Not really.

That was a central problem in our relationship. Not one I had to fix this week, or this month, or even this year, but — if we were really going to have that future with the two point five adorable kids and the picket fence and the dog and cat and the house in the suburbs — I might have to be able to tell Jasmine who I really was. And ... I had not the slightest idea how she would take it.

But, if I could tell Jane, could I not tell my partner in life? I didn’t know, and — one day — I would have to face that question.

Sunday, July 18, 1982

Via Cammie, at breakfast, Angie begged off any Sunday activities. She was going for rest, elevation, and compression. By this point, dancing in the show seemed out. She just wanted to feel better.

Cammie opted to head back and keep her company, which I could totally understand. Why not?

So, here I was, at loose ends. A week to go before heading home, then a week home before my girlfriend returned. There was nothing I needed to do today. Oh, I could go to the library and research, but I was fed up with that.

I could hang out with the guys at the dorm, but I’d passed on serious friendships. Wesley might have become a real friend, but I hadn’t done anything to build on that. Christopher, maybe. Henry, possibly. But ... none of that was appealing.

I started on a long walk around the campus, bored. Sometimes I thought about nothing, or the architecture, or the historic basketball games that’d been played here. Sometimes I thought about Jasmine, about our future, about whether we’d survive my telling my story. About Jessica and what else she might have to tell me. About Angie, and when — or if, I suppose — we’d cross the line.

And about Mikayla, and Paige, and Lexi, and Sam. And about cheerleaders yet unknown. And about Laura.

And about myself, too. In a way, this summer program wasn’t what I’d wanted. Hadn’t I wanted to go make some great friends and have a blast? I hadn’t, and ... I hadn’t. Oh, I’d learned a lot, but this was work, not fun.

Was I failing to be true to myself? I’d gone into State as a freshman with the idea that I should meet everyone I could and make friends all over the place. Here, I’d had two weeks, not two or three days, and I’d barely gotten to solid acquaintance status with anyone. Sure, my life was ridiculously full, but ... was I the jerk here?