Chapter 7

They were playing a Cheap Trick song, so I didn't feel bad about taking a breather. I hate Cheap Trick, and I desperately needed something to drink. Allison looked hot and thirsty too, and she made no complaint as I led her over to the soda fountain.

The cafeteria line had a soda fountain machine and a rack of glasses. We could drink our fill. I chose the ginger ale, as it was the least sweet of what was offered. Allison chose Coke. She took a long drink, and gave me a relieved smile. We topped up our glasses and moved to a quiet spot to talk.

"So are discussions always that intense at Academy?"

"Well, it doesn't usually come down to name calling. In fact, that's very un-Academy. The whole school philosophy is based on learning to B.S. successfully. Blowing your cool isn't success," I explained.

"Learning to B.S.?" Allison queried. "What do you mean?"

"A typical dinner conversation might include a discussion of Shakespeare's dramaturgical imperatives in Act II of Richard III. And students will discuss it even if, like me, they have never read Richard III, nor know the meaning of 'dramaturgical'. "If you can't dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit," ought to be the school motto.

B.S. is also the unofficial school intramural sport. Walter is the undisputed king, in no small part because nobody has ever caught him actually bullshitting, whereas the rest of us occasionally fall on our faces when someone disproves one of our bullshit points using actual facts or even just more plausible B.S.

"But this is all a continuation of the classroom, where we are seldom taught, but are instead supposed to debate points amongst ourselves. I'm sure glad I'm a nineteen — I would never have had the self-confidence to open my mouth three or four years ago."

Allison sort of shrugged. "Maybe I'm glad I didn't go to Academy. It sounds like you're rewarded more for faking it well than for real knowledge and intellect."

"Yeah, well," I said, intending to concede the point. But then I countered with "... but it could just be said that they're preparing us for life outside of school, where B.S. can get you everywhere - 'Good presentation of ideas' — or some such. But actually, I think I agree with you. Bullshitting is a really bad habit, and it's overly rewarded around here."

Just then, John and Laura came up.

"Hi guys — I think we're, uh, going to call it a night," he said to us. Laura said nothing, her eyes downcast. "I did want to say, you two look pretty good dancing out there. It's good that at least some people dressed up for this party. Well, good night."

We muttered our goodnights back, uncertain what else to say. Laura said goodnight without looking up.

It didn't surprise me at all that they were leaving early.

"I wonder what John thinks of what happened tonight," Allison said quietly to me as they walked to the door.

Good question, and one that intended to try to ask as inconspicuously as I could later, if I could figure out how. I didn't really know much about their relationship. They'd been going out since Junior year sometime. It had struck me, listening to John talk, and seeing the two of them together, as if they took the existence of their relationship for granted, but that they weren't all that close to each other. Almost like they were supposed to be together more than that they were meant to be.

Unable to give a good reply to her question, and unwilling to bullshit, I merely squeezed her hand.

I looked down at my empty glass, contemplating whether I wanted more soda, when Allison startled me with a question.

"Who's that?" She sounded intrigued.

I followed her gaze.

"Umm — I think her name is Megan... Novak? Megan Something. She's a sophomore. I bet she was serving tonight."

She was certainly distinctive. She stood maybe six foot 1, and she probably outweighed me by a few pounds even. More startling was that it didn't look like she had stopped growing. There was still a certain puppiness about the way she moved, like she hadn't grown into her correct, adult proportions. Like her paws were too big and her ears too long. She certainly was too new to her height to feel comfortable with it. And I think it would be hard for her to ever feel comfortable with being as tall and large as she was, as a woman.

"She's noticeable, that's for sure," I added. "She's smart - she's in my biology class, even though she's only a soph, and she's acing it. She plays cello wonderfully - her trio is always playing Beethoven on the Library steps on nice days. And I've heard she plays center on the girls hockey team," I informed Allison. What I didn't add was that, despite her gawkiness, I thought she was beautiful. She looked good now, with a knee-length black skirt, a clingy burgundy turtleneck, and black pumps on what I'd heard were her size 13 mens feet.

"For all that, she's got a bit of a strange reputation here, almost as if people are afraid to admit they like a 'freak' like her. I don't know. I like her."

A slow song was starting — actually it was "Slow Dancing — Swaying to the Music" (Johnny Rivers? I never was very good remembering songs). I'd been really looking forward to a slow dance with Allison, but we remained fixed, watching Megan. She was clearly on a mission.

Allison and I watched, dumbstruck, as Megan walked over to Dill, who had been playing "drums" on a wastebasket and a nearby table with a pair of chopsticks (and pretty well, from what I'd noticed). She tapped him on the shoulder. They were too far away for us to hear, and Megan's back was to us, so I couldn't read her lips.

Dill's face was priceless, though. Surprised at being interrupted, really surprised at who it was, I think. Dill, who always grins, was grinning. But it seemed as if his grin would have fled except that it was too scared. His head nodded, but I don't think he said a word. He didn't move until Megan took the chopsticks out of his hands, put them down on the table, and then took his hands and led him out onto the dance floor.

Allison took my hands at that moment and dragged us out there too, but I'm pretty sure even Allison was just trying to get a closer look at what was happening. Soon we were, indeed, swaying to the music, not to far from the new couple. But both of us were engrossed in the scene we were watching.

Megan was towering over the 5'9" Dill, crushing his face into her chest (though he was clearly not complaining), and what's more, she was obviously leading. I think Dill wouldn't have noticed if she'd led him to, and off, a cliff. And I don't think he would have cared. Megan, for her part, had a happy and contented look on her face, as if she were cuddling a kitten.

Allison looked up at me, and I dragged my eyes away from the spectacle to look down at her. "Wow," I said to her softly. She just nodded and grinned back.

Seeing Allison grinning, and feeling her in my arms, made me momentarily forget about Megan and Dill. God she felt good. And smelled good. And looked beautiful. That last part I told her, whispering it in her ear. That got me a quick kiss, but we had to be careful not to get too obvious or too deeply into things. A peck was OK with the authorities — a lip-lock wasn't.

As the song ended, we both looked back over at Megan and Dill. They remained swaying together, even as "Hot Child in the City" started playing. I wondered if they'd stay that way all evening. Meanwhile, though, I turned my attentions back to Allison. "Hot Child" is really a pretty crappy song, but it's got kind of a funky groove that makes it fun to dance to. I'm not great, but Allison was doing well with what I was giving her.

As we danced the next song, I looked over to see what was up with Dill and Megan. They were no longer in a clinch, but were actually dancing to the beat. Dill was doing some spastic jerking to the music, and Megan looked even more awkward than usual, but both of them had smiles twice too wide for their faces.

They danced together all night long, through fast songs and slow songs, and everyone was buzzing about them. There was some laughter, and unfortunately, some of the comments I heard were pretty rude, but thankfully Dill and Megan were two enrapt to notice anything.

Not that Allison and I spent our whole time watching them. But it was so loud in the cafeteria that serious talking was pretty well impossible. So we mostly just danced too.

In fact, the evening seemed to speed by. I was startled when the "Last Song" announcement came on, and even more surprised that the last song was "Free Bird". At my high school, the last song was always Stairway to Heaven. I'd been looking forward to dancing it with Allison all night. Oh well, Skynyrd is good too.

The end of "Free Bird" gets a bit too fast to slowdance to. Allison and I reluctantly pulled apart a bit towards the end. Megan and Dill, though, were still clinched together, swaying to some rhythm of their own. As the music ended, Megan lifted Dill's face to hers and planted a kiss on him that had to have curled his toes. I saw one of the chaperones approach to break them apart, but Megan stepped back before the reprimand.

After that, we all piled out to head back to the dorms. I saw Walter, reminding other members of the dance committee that he was off the hook, and that clean-up was up to them. He didn't accept the razzing, but took Clarisse's hand and proudly left them behind.