My Share of Sand (A Calabasas Fable)...Slightly Revised Edition

21-Gimme The Prize...revised

Saturday, September 30

The 405 freeway through the Sepulveda Pass on a Saturday morning is an oddly peaceful ride. A tranquil island of comfort amid the gunky sea of L.A., it's a friendly freeway, so long as you're not stuck in bumper-to-bumper. The sunshine bounces across emerald hills. Palms on the crests seem to wave down at the traffic below. Head south a few miles and the soundwalls even disappear; bare, brushy hillsides embrace the eleven lanes of traffic. When there aren't very many cars on the road, like this morning, it feels like a nice jaunt through the wilderness.

The Las Virgenes quizbowl team took the time to relax on the way to the tourney at UCLA, trying to enjoy the calm best they could before the clunky water tower-like roundness of the Hotel Angeleno at signaled the dreaded return of Los Angeles. All except Darius, who'd discovered he'd become slightly famous overnight.

"You're not, like, viral viral," Genefer reassured him as she went over some of the social media postings of a video of him getting kissed on the sideline. "Some people are sharing it, kind of as a whole cutesy-ootsy thing."

"So that's your girlfriend from church?" Colinda asked. And maybe, if you listened closely enough, you might have even detected a slight undertone of jealousy.

"Well, Sunday School. And she's not really my girlfriend."

"Yet," Genefer chimed in.

"She's already asking me for suggestions on where to go on our honeymoon."

"Vermont," Gen recommended. "In the fall. Maple trees and lots of cozy little towns. My dad's from Brattleboro."

"Sounds like she's using emotional ransomware on you," observed Colinda.

"But she's the first girl who's ever paid attention to me," he pointed out.

"Templynn's paid attention to you," Colinda reminded him.

"But she's not interested in me."

"Have you ever asked her?" said Gen.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'd rather not have her rejecting me as one of my memories of her," he explained. "We go our separate ways, and it's always 'well, maybe I could've had a shot at her. 'Maybe' is always better than 'no'."

"I could ask her for you," Colinda offered. "I'm going back to her place tomorrow to work on our history project. I mean, if she brings up boys, I'll just happen to mention your name and see how she reacts."

Darius thought about it for a few moments that held his hand out for shaking. "Deal."

###

Like many large American universities that have been around for a while, UCLA is a jumble of structures built in vastly different styles, reflecting the decades in which they were added to the campus collection, like an architectural version of a Whitman's chocolate sampler. They range from stately to boxy to quaint to functional. Luckily, the tournament was being held in one of the oldest and most impressive buildings, Kaplan Hall, a brick edifice with arched window facades and even a small turret on the roof. Probably the building that most screams "you're on a college campus" more than any other in Westwood.

Coach McWilliams assembled his team on the wide, long staircase leading up to the front door. "Remember, the objective of quizbowl isn't to win, it's to learn and improve yourself as a person. And to represent your school. And to have fun. And falling in love isn't unheard of either. I'm confident in you guys and girls, but it won't be easy. It never is. But the key is: never give up, and never give less than a hundred percent. Now I think you know what time it is." It was time for McWilliams to start tapping twice with one foot and clapping once. BUMP-BUMP-BUMP.