Chapter 6

A one-way test drive — what a kick. What balls this girl had...

But as we walked up towards my dorm, Allison suddenly stopped smiling. "Sobered up", might be an apt description of the change in her expression. I was still laughing, until the look on her face brought me down.

"Hey, something wrong?" I asked her.

She shook her head, "no", but then stopped and turned to me anyway.

"We're going to the dining hall, right? It's just that I haven't met any of your friends, and I'm kind of worried what they'll think about you dating a waitress."

I laughed, which wasn't, perhaps, the best response.

"You don't have to worry about John and Dill, that's for sure. Dill pretty much said 'Why didn't I think of asking her out?' when I told him about you. He's seen you at Fuzzy's," I added in explanation. "And John's just a regular guy, really."

"But aren't these guys all, like, sons of senators and CEOs and stuff?" she asked, still sounding uncertain.

I thought for a moment. "Actually, I've seen less of the upper class nose-in-the-air stuff here than I was expecting. I guess it's 'cause you have to actually be smart to get in here, no matter how rich or famous you are. I mean, you know I'm just a small town kid — a nerdy one, but otherwise ordinary — and nobody's said a single word about me not being good enough stock for Academy.

"The thing you do need to get used to, though, is the wealth. Some of these guys are loaded. The money's so old that they don't even notice that they're wearing $200 Rolexes while playing squash. The watch isn't there to show off — it's just that they buy the best of everything as a matter of course. It's a little different for those of us on financial aid, that's for sure."

She still looked a little uncertain.

"Relax, you'll be fine," I finished, taking her hand and giving in a squeeze that drew a bit of a smile in return.

John and Dill were just coming out of the dorm as we walked up. After some quick introductions, I ran upstairs with the tux and Allison's dress, ditching them on my bed before running back down to catch up.

The three were headed towards Merritt House to pick up Laura, John's girlfriend. Laura is beautiful and nice, but she and I have never seemed to click at all. Odd, because John and I hit it off right away. You'd think if he and I were compatible, I'd be able to be more than just superficially pleasant with his girlfriend. Oh well.

Laura came bouncing out the door as we walked up. She'd apparently been watching from the window. She was wearing tailored wool slacks, an orange turtleneck with a crucifix on a chain bouncing above her large breasts, and a down vest. She gave John a quick kiss on the cheek and he took her arm.

I hate introductions, but I figured I needed to do a real one here. "Hi Laura, I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Allison. Allison, this is Laura Alderman, John's girlfriend."

"So nice to meet you, Allison. Are you a Junior? I haven't seen you before. What dorm are you in?"

Ouch. I'd hoped John had mentioned Allison to her, but apparently not.

"No, I don't go to Academy. I live here in town," replied Allison.

"Oh, how interesting," she added, in her slightly noticeable Southern drawl. "So do you go to that high school on North Street? Is it any good?"

Allison's smile looked a bit resigned. "I graduated last year. I'm working this year to save money for college." I squeezed her hand in support of that answer, and Allison squeezed back.

"Oh — and older woman!", Laura shot at me with amusement.

"No, no, we're the same age. I'm PG, remember," I clarified.

"Oh yeah. I forgot. So how did you meet David?" Laura persisted.

"I met him in a restaurant in town one Wednesday afternoon, we got to talking, and he asked me if I'd like to for a bicycle ride that weekend," replied Allison.

I thought she'd managed to put things very delicately.

"How cute," was all Laura could say.

That afternoon's game was one of the few football games I've ever enjoyed. Even though we lost, I discovered that football was a lot more fun when you had the right company. The afternoon sun kept us from freezing, and Academy kept it close until late in the 4^th quarter. There were some big, exciting plays, and lots of scoring. But best of all was having Allison beside me, cheering with all of us Brats.

Thankfully, after the game when Allison called the car place, they told her it had just been a clogged fuel filter. That had been easy and cheap to replace, and her car was ready. She took the bus over there, and she was back well before dinner. That left her time to drive home and dress. When she came back, and we met downstairs in the common room, she stunned me with her appearance.

Allison is cute more than beautiful. But she knows how to play that up perfectly. The dress she found was a medium blue that really accented the blue in her eyes. Did I ever mention she has blue eyes? Blue eyes and brown, wavy hair and rosy cheeks. The gown was satiny and accentuated her "assets". But it was also simply-cut.

We made a good looking couple, I thought. At first, I'd felt pretty absurd wearing a tux, but Allison said I looked good with such authority that I think I began to believe her. She looked gorgeous. Fabulous. Stupendous.

"Are you sure she doesn't have a sister?" Dill asked me again. "A cousin? Maybe you could drop dead and I could step in to console her."

"Leave it, Dill. You'll just have to find your own girl. You can't have Stoner's. Give it up."

"Thanks, John." I smiled, pleased that I had some backup here.

Of course, John already had a girlfriend.

At dinner they had fake champagne; sparkling cider, really, but it came in real champagne bottles, complete with popping plastic corks. Being the oldest "man" at our table, I took it upon myself to open a bottle. I did have some experience, having opened a bottle of the real stuff at my high school graduation party.

Putting the bottle on the table, I untwisted the wire cage, and as soon as it was loose, the cork surprised me by coming out all on its own. I didn't think to grab for it, instead watching, mesmerized, as the cork oozed its way further and further out of the bottle.

"Um, I don't think that's a good idea... ," Allison began.

"What could possibly go wrong?" was my last thought before...

POP - the cork flew up.

The dining hall was an ugly modern building which looked somewhat out of place amongst the old, ivy-covered brick buildings that made up most of the campus. The roof was an angled slab, far above our heads. All eyes at our table tracked that cork higher and higher. Just as it was about to reach its apex, it kissed the ceiling, knocking it a bit to my right. All eyes tracked it as it fell, faster and faster towards...

SMASH. Oh, shit! Allison gasped. John started laughing, tried to stop, and ended up giggling out of his nose. Dill made no pretense of suppressing his laughter, and he actually fell off his chair.

Ms. Cavanaugh's glass lay shattered beside her plate, a plastic cork among the shards. The shock fading from her face, her eyes began to search the room for the culprit. She caught my eye. I gave her a boyish grin, and mouthed "sorry". I knew, with John and Dill cracking up around me, that playing innocent was not going to work.

"Mr. Treadstone," she began sternly, her voice rising above the din of the hall. "I trust that is the last bottle you'll be uncorking during your Academy career. Enough said?"

I nodded my acceptance of the light sentence, then looked around the room. In the corner, I spotted a dust pan and brush. I made a quick dash, grabbed them, and quickly cleaned up the mess as best I could. But I could still see tiny flecks of glass sparkling on the table. I didn't know what to do about them.

Allison came to my rescue, though. Heading over to the serving area, she grabbed a cloth napkin and a new glass. She hurried back, laid the napkin down over any remaining tiny shards, and presented Ms. Cavanaugh ceremoniously with a new glass. "Waitressing trick," she said quietly in explanation.

Actually, Ms. Cavanaugh was pretty cool despite her rather wiry and stern appearance. She didn't tolerate mean, and she had little patience for stupid, but she otherwise wasn't much of a stickler for rules.

Returning to our seats, Allison and I found they'd all been waiting for us. The "champagne" had been poured in our absence.

"I think it's time for a toast," announced John grandly.

John really did preside over the group. Actually it was his group of friends that he had welcomed me into on my arrival at Academy. Most of them had known each other for years. Besides John, Laura, and Dill, we were sitting with Walter, Walter's date, Rob, and Cathy. Walter was one of the few black kids at Academy, a wrestler, a student council member, and king of the Debate Team (which was a varsity sport at Academy). He had a date with him from his hometown. I missed the introductions, and I was too shy to ask, so I spent the whole evening cluelessly wondering what her name was. Gorgeous, though.

Rob and Cathy were sort of at the dance together, but I don't think there was any real romance between them — Cathy was far too invested in her studies to actually date. [Later, I came to think she might actually have been gay, in a rather asexual way.] Still, it was clear that Rob and Cathy were very good friends.

"Senior Year... ," John began, "... It's the end of the beginning of our lives. We are decidedly not children after this. From here we're off to one college or another, everything from Harvard," and here John nodded respectfully towards Walter, "... to Bryn Mawr," a smile towards Cathy, "to East Podunk U." Here, John stared pointedly at Dill, with just a touch of a smile at his lips, but with a full sparkle in his eye to make it clear he was jesting.

["Hey! Watch it, buddy," squeaked a mock-indignant Dill. I'm at least good enough to get into North Podunk!]

"We've been at Academy — well, some for just a few months," said John looking at me, "— up through what will be four long, hard years, right Walter?" Walter grinned and shook his head slowly back and forth, as if to say John didn't know the half of it.

"So we have to do this right. There's only six weeks left of this semester. We need to focus, work hard, and get the good grades. These are the grades that matter. These are the ones the colleges care about..."

This announcement was met by a lot of serious-looking faces.

"BUT!," John continued quickly, "the New Year ushers in our final semester — a semester for which there are only two requirements. Don't flunk out, and don't get kicked out. Beyond that, though, anything goes."

Suddenly, all faces had smiles of anticipation again.

"We've sat in classrooms from the time we were five, and what have we learned? Not enough, damn it, about the things that really matter in life.

Have you seen sunrise over the Atlantic? Can you dance a Rumba? Have you stayed up all night listening to Pink Floyd in the dark for no particular reason? Do you really know who your friends are? Well it's time to find out.

"Come January, our goal, all of us, is to Do Academy for Most. Academy Rules are made to be bent, not broken, but we'll turn them into pretzels!

"So, here's to Senior Year!"

This was met with a chorus of cheers, and we drank our cider.

I looked over at Allison, and she looked a bit wistful, it seemed to me. I figured she was feeling a bit on the outside of things, so I pulled her hand to my lips and kissed it, which earned me a heartwarming smile and a nice squeeze back from her.

It was a bit startling to most of us when actual sophomores came out serving food. We'd expected to have to go through the cafeteria line as always.

Walter sat back in his chair, fingering his thin necktie and looking smug. "It's incredible how cheap they are to hire," he said pointing to the students bringing around loaded plates. "They're only getting minimum wage, and there were plenty of applicants."

"Just how do you know all this," asked John, somewhat skeptically.

Walter laughed. "I'm head of the committee that put this dance together," he explained with a laugh. "I agreed to be on the committee if-and-only-if all of my responsibilities ended at noon today. I'm a free man tonight."

We all agreed that was excellent thinking.

Dinner was good — better than the usual fare. After having been out in the cold all afternoon, everyone was very intent on their food, so the conversations lulled. Then came dessert — nothing too exciting, but getting served was nice.

As we finished eating, there began to be loud noises behind me. Turning, I could see dance-goers standing up while the sophomores cleared the tables and folded them up, pushing them against the walls at the far end of the cafeteria to make room for dancing.