Senior Devon DuCharme is a reluctant warrior. Speaking to him is an enticing exeperience; his eyes often drift, careful not to linger at a subject for too long, as his hands, filled with chemistry materials, engage in a slew of subtle motions. Each betrays a small piece of information about the man behind those intent eyes and U.S. Navy sweatshirts. Each betrays a small bit of information about Devon DuCharme. “I did not want to go to prom, but now I have to because I’m on court,” DuCharme said. His words come out with a moving and unique sincerity—a mixture of sweetness and sheepishness. And understandably so. Ames High has been buzzing ever since seniors received ballots in homeroom for prom court selections. Whispers turned to muttering that turned to near shouts of ectasy as the senior class united in DuCharme’s honor. But despite his endearing demeanor, some still wonder. Why Devon? “I don’t really do anything,” DuCharme said when asked about activities outside of school. “I don’t really know why I was selected. It doesn’t really matter, ” There is, of course, more to Devon than meets the eye. He was a member of the football team last year, and Ames Middle School yearbooks reveal that he was involved in intramural soccer at some point. In keeping with the theme of honorable physical activity, DuCharme has enlisted in the Navy, where he will begin training June 24th. “I want to serve my country,” he said. “I chose the Navy specifically because I have a thing with water.” At this point, DuCharme turned away to stir a mixture of calcium chloride and sodium carbonate as part of a chemistry lab practical. One noticed a certain delicacy to his arm movements. They danced around the chemicals, similar to the manner in which his words dance around the greater concepts they convey. The sight was beautiful and overwhelming, and one would not at all be reluctant to lean in closer, straining the neck to hear his muted utterances. Prom night is notoriously magical, but a night on the boardwalk can be made all the more special by the presence of someone like DuCharme: a uniter. Being a king is terribly difficult, and requires the understated authority of someone who can win respect and adoration with a silent blink of the eye. And blink he did, his eyes betraying an excited twinkle as the new mixture yielded calcium carbonate- another sucessful experiment. It reminded one of a new beginning, a new era in school dance monarchy: an era of DuCharme. But will this era come to be realized tomorrow? “I don’t know,” DuCharme said. “I think my chances are pretty good. But then again, so does everybody.”