Chapter 78: Fruits of Victory

Sunday, January 30, 1983

Morning was a somewhat lazier affair. We were up at eight, at a fairly nice diner by nine-thirty, and on the road to Houston around eleven. Most of us called home and updated the parents, though both Angie and I said we’d done ‘really well’ and left the big news for sharing in person.

Some people were still tired, even after a bit of extra sleep. I saw several people settle in for naps almost as soon as we started moving. Others talked quietly or played travel games. Jas and I snuggled and made out a little. Angie and Paige, seated next to us, did mostly the same.

I considered telling Meg and Steffie that we could do with a smaller bus by sharing more seats, but decided against it. There weren’t all that many couples among the group — Janet and Lizzie and Amit and Sheila were about it, and maybe Ben and Penny, though they might just be flirty friends. Plus, right now Meg and Steffie could at least pretend to have missed our making out, which was certainly against school rules.

This time we stopped for lunch in Huntsville. Janet winked to a few of us. “Hey, dudes! I could go check out my alma mater to be! I mean, Sam Houston State is totally a fit, right?”

A mix of groans and chuckles met her. I thought things were on a better track, but it was a reminder. Not just a reminder of Miss Cuthbert, though. It was also a reminder that Janet and Lizzie would be gone from most of our lives in just four months. Maybe I’d see them in June, at Nationals, if we all qualified, but beyond that? The chances would be few and far between unless we, or they, or both made a significant effort to stay in touch. They’d be off in California, and the odds were low that we’d head that way for college ourselves.

Others would be gone, too. Callie, Kenzie, and Brad from Debate, and Mikayla, Caitlyn, Debra, Charles, and John from Drama. Friends, and in at least one case, somewhat more. How much more I wasn’t sure. Mikayla had been very focused throughout the fall and seemed to be still in that mindset.

Next year we’d be the seniors, starting our own slow goodbye to those who would stay on after we scattered to the winds. That, in turn, raised its own questions. Overall, we’d done fantastically at Grapevine. Everyone with a bid from Emory had gotten a second, and we had ... I counted quickly ... six more people with bids. Some of them had multiple bids!

I wondered if we’d do this well next year. I hoped we would, but ... would we fall prey to senioritis? Either form: the pressure to maximize fall grades, or the peer pressure to slack off in the spring? Could we keep the lightning we’d captured in the bottle? It looked like we had more than capable people to hand off to. Anne and Megan, Bree, and Jaya were already fairly accomplished, and Jeff, Ron, and Crystal were solid and would likely keep improving.

It occurred to me that, a year from now, I might have completed a deal with Michael Dell that would make Ang and me multi-millionaires in due time. By the time State happened in 1984, we might own a portfolio that would do the same thing.

Still ... I wanted to end high school on the sort of high note we deserved. That meant keeping from going crazy either way and just being us. Of course, we’d inevitably be slightly different versions of ‘us’ by then. A year ago, I’d barely even spoken to Jessica. Most of the school had no idea who I was. I hadn’t yet run for student council — hadn’t even really thought about it. Lizzie still mostly considered herself an outcast.

And so on, and so forth. Growth and change are inevitable, and Angie and I were certainly making a run at making the most of what was inevitable anyway.

We got back on the road around two. Most people were more awake, except those few who’d eaten themselves into a food coma. Cammie got us singing again. Paige (jokingly, I think) tried to get us to play ‘Never Have I Ever’. The disapproving looks from both Steffie and Meg made even Paige give up on it, after a half-hearted attempt to claim it could be an ‘innocent’ game.

It could, but ... with this group? No.

Owing to some unexpected traffic, we didn’t hit the Memorial parking lot until four-thirty. Those of us in our study group declared ourselves too tired, except for Cammie. Mel’s being at Study Group likely had something to do with that.

We piled into our cars and headed out. I dropped off Paige, then Jas (both with plenty of hugs and kisses), and then Angie and I headed home. I parked out front, and we both grabbed our suitcases and headed in.

Mom and Dad were in the TV room when we got home, and were just getting up when we got the door open.

“Hi, kids!” Dad said. “We didn’t expect you home so early!”

“We were all tired and decided to skip Study Group,” Angie said.

“It’s nice to have you home,” Mom said. “How was it? I know you said it went well.”

“It ... went really well, Mom,” Angie said, smiling. Not just smiling — I noticed a bit of wetness in her eyes. Maybe I’d forgotten how much having these successes meant to Ang, after her first life. She had plenty in this life, but they all meant a little more to her. “Steve and I both qualified for Tournament of Champions. Actually... everyone that could have, did, and a bunch of other people got their first bid, so we have a chance to qualify more at U.T.”

“That’s amazing!” Mom said.

Dad pretended to groan. “So I’ve got to plan for a trip to Kentucky, too? My poor budget!”

Mom chuckled. “Give it up, Sam. We all know you’re pleased as punch about this.”

“Okay, okay! I surrender! Of course I am! It’s what you worked for, after all.”

Ang and I both shook our heads. “Nah,” she said. “What we worked for is what we already have. This is amazing, and a bonus, and it means something, but ... I feel like what you work for is to create the chance to do something amazing. Even if we hadn’t made it, we’d still have gotten so much out of things.”

Dad shook his head, smiling, and Mom said, “That’s beautiful, honey. I know you mean it, too. Both of you,” she added, as I nodded along with Angie.

I knew Dad felt that way. Every so often, he’d have some idea for a really big deal that would set up a huge recurring paper sale. So far, they’d always fallen through but, for him, the goal was to be in a position to be taken seriously when he proposed deals like that, even if they never quite worked out. Perhaps, this go-round, one would. And, by that, I mean, on its own. Ang or I doing something behind the scenes to make it happen would be breaking the rules.

Well, unless we started a giant business that needed a lot of paper. If we did, we knew who to talk to!

9:00pm

Angie yawned as she came in, already in her pink footie pajamas, and flopped into the waiting space on the bed.

“You knew I’d be here,” she said, smiling.

“I was fairly sure. It’s been almost a week.”

She nodded. “Too much going on last week, and ... well ... Paige and I are veterans at sleeping in the same bed, so that went just fine.”

“And you behaved yourselves perfectly.”

“Not perfectly. Some kissing, and some hands wandered briefly. Yes, that’s a pun, and, no, nothing happened. Well ... depending on your scoring system, anyway.”

I chuckled. “Gene and I are veterans at sleeping in the same bed, and things were much more sedate.”

“You aren’t dating Gene.”

“And I never will, either.”

“Yeah. Though, if there are infinite universes...”

“I’m just fine with the idea of gay or bi Steves being out there. I just don’t want to be one of them, though that’s because I don’t feel anything that way. If I did, well ... then I would.”

It was her turn to chuckle. “I believe that, almost surprisingly.”

“I had that one tiny moment of attraction, once upon a time in a year and universe long ago. Nothing came of it, but it proves to me that it’s not impossible. Just ... very unlikely.”

“I wonder if we’ll ever meet the guy.”

“Probably unlikely.”

She nodded. “And you don’t want to?”

I shrugged. “He was a good friend, but not one that mattered. If I can keep Dave Mayrink at arm’s length, everyone else is easy.”

“You could reconnect with him some more.”

“I could, but I’m not sure if I have the time to do justice to it, and ... I think we’re probably best served where we are.”

“About what I expected you to say, and it makes sense. I don’t really have anyone like that. Max, but that isn’t happening. After him ... the thing is, I know who I was close to next year in high school, and ... they’re not happening, either. Any of them. Everyone that I’m close to now is just better,” she said, sighing, and smiling, too.

“I won’t even ask. I don’t need to know, and I’m probably better off not knowing.”

“The one thing that I wonder about is whether they’re different this time. And ... I don’t know, and I don’t think I want to know. I just want to believe that they’re better.”

“Works for me.”

“So,” she said, rolling a bit more onto her side and looking at me, “am I wrong, or did you hear what I heard when Janet joked about Sam Houston State?”

“The clock ticking away our last few months together?”

She nodded. “It sucks, but it’s inevitable, and fighting it won’t make it suck less.”

“I bet if you asked most of the other juniors, they’d say ‘of course’ if you asked about them realizing how short that time is, and they’d be wrong.”

“Yeah. I think Cammie might. Not just because of ... you know ... but because she’s got that history with them, and because I think she’s a bit more aware of how much there is to lose if something changes.”