Chapter 82: Dance of Hearts

Saturday, February 12, 1983 (continued)

Mom drove us back home after the meeting with Jane. She asked the usual — how had it gone, were we getting what we needed, and so forth — and we gave the usual answers. It wasn’t quite a ritual, but it was close to it. The situation was stable (we seemed to get what we wanted, Mom got what she wanted, and by both objective and subjective measures Angie and I were highly successful) so why would any of us mess with it?

It was easier for Mom to have Dad keep paying the bills and keep taking us than to mess with things, even if she might have had questions as to why we really needed to keep seeing someone. I’m sure she guessed that we’d become at least friendly with Jane, but that’s usually a positive. She couldn’t have guessed how close we were, but then that’s because she couldn’t have guessed why we needed someone that close.

Since Valentine’s wasn’t a formal, I didn’t even wear my suit. Instead, I went with a new outfit, albeit one similar to one I’d worn before. It was very flashy. I had a gold lamé shirt, red pants, and black suspenders, along with a black belt and shoes. I’d often worn suspenders in my first life, both because I needed them and because I liked the style. This time I hardly needed them, but I still liked the style, especially with this outfit.

The capper (literally and figuratively) for the outfit was a black trilby hat with a gold hatband and a red feather. It was (again, pun acknowledged) over the top.

It was also a violation of dress code. Hats were amongst the things currently forbidden, except for sports caps (and those only at sporting events). It was seldom enforced, though. A future Gene had been sent to the office many times over the hat ban. Mr. Hannity had taken issue with Gene’s cap because it was a Mao cap, complete with the correct insignia. The principals gave him a bit of grief but, by the end of the hat incident, Gene and Ms. Ryan had pretty much become friends. Not the outcome Mr. Hannity had wanted, but Gene had relented on the hat in the end.

Anyway, since we were putting on a show for this Valentine’s dance, why not try a hat? It was something new, and it would definitely stand out. Not that the rest of me wouldn’t. Even so, Jasmine would outshine me, and rightfully so.

Even having known my plans, Mom and Dad still looked a little surprised.

“Are you sure, Steve?” Mom said. “That’s quite ... flashy.”

“Jasmine and I discussed it, and we’re sure. Her outfit is even flashier, after all, as it should be.”

“Well, if you think it’s fine, and she thinks it’s fine, I’m sure it’s fine. The photos will be quite something, that’s for sure.”

“You can say that again!” Dad said, looking amused. He would never, ever, ever have worn anything like it, though I’d seen him in some pretty interesting get-ups as well, over the years. Most of those years, of course, hadn’t happened yet, at least in this universe.

Angie, wearing a pale green dress that was another of her ‘young adult’ sexy outfits, said, “I look downright demure, in comparison!”

Mom chuckled. In another time and place, I’m certain Mom would’ve had a fit if her sixteen-year-old daughter tried to wear that dress, but we’d changed things quite a lot.

“It is, honey, though it’s a very nice dress. I hope you get to dance with some nice boys. I was a little too much of a wallflower to go stag to a Valentine’s dance, except for senior year when it felt like I had to go, just to go.”

After a few pictures, I headed out the door and off to Jasmine’s. Her dress, an ao dai in red, with elaborate gold stitchery and lace, was simply stunning. I knew these dresses were often worn for weddings, but it did not limit them to them, unlike most American wedding dresses. If she wanted to wear one (this one, or a different one) to our wedding, I wouldn’t have the slightest issue with it.

In terms of the cut, it would be one of the most modest dresses at the dance, but it still was incredibly sexy. My outfit wasn’t traditional anywhere, but it complemented hers perfectly. I was certain all eyes would be on us, particularly since we’d been very reticent about what we were wearing, even with close friends. They knew we were likely making a statement, but very few knew what it was.

Jas was again buzzing about her session with Dr. Wright. Everything was going wonderfully there, and it had her in a great mood. Not that I expected anything else, but it was good to see.

We went out to dinner at Pho King. Where else? Huong was beside herself at Jasmine’s dress, fawning over her like a proud parent, wanting to know details on where she’d gotten it and so forth. She made over me nearly as much, obviously pleased as punch that Jasmine’s American boyfriend would wear something so designed to complement her. I knew we were high on her list of favorite customers, and I couldn’t help but think she might see, in us, a mirror of possible future relationships for her own family. Many Vietnamese of the diaspora married across racial lines, both because of limited options and because they simply met a lot more non-Vietnamese people than fellow countryfolk.

No leftovers this time, not with the dance tonight. Between fashion discussions, Huong told us she was seeing more Memorial kids coming over, and attributed it to her sponsorship and our word of mouth. Some had brought their parents, and she had a growing and loyal fan base. Indeed, the restaurant was as busy as I’d ever seen it tonight, and she was hard pressed to gossip with us and also keep things hopping. She had at least one person cooking in the back, possibly more, something she often hadn’t needed in the old days.

From Pho King we headed off to Memorial, where (as always) Mel’s Social Committee had worked some magic on our gym. Red and white are, as always, easy to come by at Memorial, but we had hearts aplenty, glitter, two mirror balls, and fancy centerpieces. As before, our close friends and classmates now occupied four tables near the dance floor.

Mike and Sarah were the first to spot us. Mike’s mouth dropped open, and Sarah bounced to her feet, heading over and hugging Jasmine.

“That is incredible!” Sarah said. “It’s just ... breathtaking! I could never wear something like that!”

Jasmine grinned, hugging back. “Not quite this, but you’d look good in anything, and I think you know it.”

“Thanks, but ... I mean ... wow! And, Steve! I’d have to promise Mike things I don’t even know about to get him to consider anything like that.”

“You know I like to stand out in a crowd,” I said, giving her a hug now that she’d stepped back from Jasmine.

“Well, you certainly do!”

By this point, Mike had come over, and the hugs and handshakes continued, with most of Study Group and many other friends joining in.

Cammie, Cal in tow, came over and hugged both of us. “That is ... something ... even for you, Steve,” she said, grinning.

“I’d wear it to State. Or ToC.”

She chuckled. “That’s the problem! You would! I think you push the lines just fine as is. We don’t need more!”

“Gotta keep innovating!”

Teachers noticed, too. Tom Myerson gave me a grin, while Mrs. Higgins looked a trifle disapproving. But, then, Mrs. Higgins almost always looked a trifle disapproving. Mr. Hannity shook his head, but I think it was over Jasmine’s dress. Given his first-life reaction to Gene’s hat, it might simply have been a bit too ... ethnic ... for his tastes. There was no political significance to the ao dai nor to the colors, but he probably didn’t know that.

Or maybe he didn’t like my hat. It was against the rules, but no one said or did anything. I didn’t even think it was because it was me. They’d just ... relaxed. A bit. A hat wasn’t a threat to morals and decency, after all. I wasn’t even sure why they were banned. Perhaps they’d been some protest sign, years ago? In any case, I was breaking the rules and getting away with it — usually a good thing.

Once we’d had our fifteen minutes of fame, the dance was pretty much a dance. Oh, I think we drew a lot of eyes all night, but mostly we danced, both with each other and with our friends. Megan towered over me in her heels — the highest I’d ever seen her wear, helping her keep up with Calvin — while I towered even more over Connie. I had a great time with each of them, even so.

Neither Linda nor Darla had come, but I danced with a number of other cheerleaders, including (of course) Sam. I’d lost track of her too much, which made me sad, but I was happy to see her tonight. Her date was a guy she introduced as Danny Taylor. He was big, for a freshman — not quite my size, but big. It took me a few minutes to realize he was almost as big as Andy had been back when we were freshmen. Sam was still petite, and just as cute as ever.

Of course, one of those cheerleaders was my ex-girlfriend. She’d come with Ben Henderson, one of Calvin’s teammates. He was almost as tall as Calvin, and it was amusing watching him and Jess dancing. From what I heard, he was a good guy. I was certain there was no future there for Jess, but he’d be another good short-term boyfriend.

She looked up to me during the dance, eyes sparkling. “That is an amazing outfit! I would never get anyone to wear that!”

“I’m glad you approve. I love wearing it. And this is me, remember? We both know you could get anyone you wanted to wear whatever you wanted.”

“You’re right, I could,” she said, grinning. “The best part of seeing you wearing it is what it means. I’m really, really happy you and Jasmine weathered that storm. I’ve thought about it several times, and I would’ve just felt horrible if you hadn’t.”

“Thanks, Jess. I am, too. I really never doubted that we would, but it was a nerve-wracking time.”

“Speaking of ... all is entirely quiet on the bad-guy front. Not just the two you know about, either. One of those is dead silent, the other is — by all accounts — being a gentleman. Once he goes to U.T., well ... those two can rot there, for all I care. I don’t want them screwing up anyone’s life, but I’ll be done with them.”

“All to the good, as far as I’m concerned.”

“Also ... I have my bear spray with me always. I don’t trust things to stay quiet. If they don’t, someone’s getting a surprise. I’ve started taking a self-defense class, and I’m considering making it something all of us do. Us cheerleaders are a lot more physically adept than most guys think, and with a little training and practice we could probably at least buy ourselves time to scream and grab the bear spray.”