"Okay. I've had it. Enough is enough."

Andrea looked up from her study of the richly patterned woven rug into her therapist's narrowed eyes. "Excuse me?"

"I just can't take it anymore."

"Take what?"

"You." Pointing an immaculately manicured finger at her client, she asked, "How long have you been coming here?"

"Two years."

"And when did you graduate from college?"

"Almost ten years ago."

"Right. How many more sessions until you think you'll be finished?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know because you refuse to face the truth."

"I'm trying. I've told you what's bothering me."

"But you won't see the solution."

"Oh? If you know how to fix me, why haven't you shared that information with me?"

"Because I keep waiting for you to see what is right in front of your face."

"Which is?"

"We can sit here for several more years and get no closer than we are now. You've identified that you are stuck on what happened your final year of study. We've dissected every relationship you've had since that fateful kiss and how you have doomed them all by choosing women who are inappropriate, unavailable and even dangerously unstable."

Andrea blushed. "They weren't all that bad."

"Yes, they were. Every last one of them was unhealthy and you know it."

"What can I do to choose better?"

"Get over her."

"Who?"

"You know who." At Andrea's flush, she nodded. "Yes. You need to get over Erica."

"I've tried."

"No, all you do is rehash the past. You haven't done anything to actually move forward." Martha rubbed her temples. "I'm sorry. I have had a really bad day and am suffering from a terrible headache and I really shouldn't be hitting you with this."

"No. Go on. Tell me what you are trying to say."

"In clinical terms you are fixated on how your roommate reacted to your declaration of love. Until you can close the door on that, you won't ever be able to move forward. I hear you beat yourself up over what the younger you did and said and, sometimes, I just want to shake you."

"It hurt."

"I'm not trying to diminish your pain, Andrea. I just want you to recognize that it isn't the insurmountable obstacle you seem to think it is."
"But…"

"Look, the past writes our present. We choose in the present how to live our future. You aren't really living your life because your entire focus is one afternoon of your life that took place a decade ago."

"But…"

Martha sighed and interrupted, "I should apologize but I'm not going to. I realize that I am letting things that have nothing to do with you get to me and I'm taking it out on you. However, you have so much potential and it infuriates me that you are wasting it like this."

"My life is a waste?"

"If you continue on this path, yes. You aren't just stagnating, you are inert." Martha put her hands on her desk and pushed herself to her feet. "You don't really need therapy. And after this session, I cannot continue as your therapist."

"What should I do?"

"I think you should get off your ass, go to your college reunion and put the ghost of your past to rest. Then come back and get on with your life." She sighed. "If you would like, I will give you the name of a colleague."

"All right."

"All right, what? You want the name or are you going to take action?"

"I'll do it. I'll go to my reunion."

"Good for you." Martha glanced at the clock on her desk. "Our time is up. I'll have Tamika send you a final invoice."

Almost in a daze, Andrea allowed herself to be ushered out of the office. She did not recall getting into her car and when she looked up, she saw that she was stopped in front of mailbox. Taking a final look at the letter inviting the class of 1990 to attend the upcoming reunion in her hand, she sealed the acknowledgement card into the envelope. Between one breath and the next, she shoved it through the slot.

Andrea turned from the box and walked back to her car. She felt lighter for having taken that bold step. Tipping an imaginary hat to her therapist, she smiled. "Score one for shock therapy."

Returning to work, Andrea sent a quick email to her regional manager, telling him that she needed a week off. When he replied almost immediately with no objections, she began to make a list of what she needed to do in the next month.

"First of all, I need to make sure that everything will run smoothly in my absence," Andrea murmured as she checked the managers schedule. She wrote up a quick memo to the five-person team to inform them of her upcoming vacation and told them to bring her a plan of how they would work the time.

"Now, for clothes." As a professional bookseller, Andrea's clothes were not designed to impress. In the course of her day, she might have to help unload a truck, unbox a pallet of books, shelve the same, work the cash registers or information desks, and deal with exploding espresso machines or backed up toilets. While she had to look presentable to the customers, she put more effort into making sure that her clothes could stand up to hard work.

Gathering up her things, Andrea left her office. "I'm taking the rest of the afternoon off."

"You just got back," wailed her office coordinator, Robin. Ever the drama queen, he was nicknamed Camille by the rest of the staff.

"So? Was there something you needed?"

"No. I was just saying."

"Well, don't. I'll be back bright and early tomorrow." Andrea left the back room and stopped by the main information desk to page the floor manager.

David Palmer loped up to the desk and grinned at her. "What's up, boss?" he asked.

"Nothing much. I'm just wanted to tell you that I'm taking the afternoon as a personal day."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. There are just things I need to do."

"No problem. We can hold the fort."

"Excellent. I left a memo in your inboxes. We'll have our usual manager's meeting on Thursday."

"Cool." Dave cocked his head to listen to a page for help from the registers. "Gotta run. You have a good one."

"Thanks." Andrea slid her sunglasses on and walked out to the parking lot. On the way, she stopped to pick up a couple of cigarette butts littering the sidewalk. She drove quickly to the neighboring shopping center and into a fashionable boutique.

"May I help you?"

"Yes. I need to dress to impress."

"What is the occasion?"

"I'm attending my tenth year college reunion."

"What message are you trying to send?"

"That I'm good at what I do."

"And that would be?"

"Manage a book store."

"Of course." The rail thin woman eyed her skeptically. "I'm guessing that a dress or skirt would be out of the question?"

Andrea grinned. "That's right."

"Fine. Let's get started and see what happens."

For the next hour, Andrea tried on a number of outfits. Both she and saleswoman were relieved when she finally decided on a suit with three tailored blouses. Trying not to wince at the total, Andrea signed the credit card receipt with a flourish.

"I think you'll be pleased with your selections. I'm sure you will find a number of occasions to wear them in the future."

"As these prices, I should hope so," Andrea muttered.

The clerk smiled with the look of someone who was mentally adding up her commission and subtracting from it the aggravation and deciding that total was worth her working for another day. "Have a nice day," she called.

Andrea nodded and walked down to the beauty salon. "Hello. I need a makeover."

"What's the occasion?"

"College reunion."

"When is it?"

"Not for another month." Andrea shrugged. "I figure I need to learn how to do whatever hairstyle I end up with and this will give me a chance to get used to the change."

"We'll let Nathan see what he can do."

Nathan was pleased as punch to take her under his wing. He brought in a cosmologist to shape her eyebrows and cleanse her pores. He relented to her demand that no coloring be used and just applied himself to bringing panache to her hair.

When he finally spun her around to face herself in the mirror, Andrea couldn't help but gasp in surprise.

"I know. Am I good or what?"

"You're good."

"Now, come back a day or two before you leave. You'll be glowing and she'll never know what hit her."

"Huh?"

Nathan lightly slapped her arm. "You're going to a lot of trouble. I figure it's a woman because it's always a woman."

"Yeah, I guess I want to show her what's she's missing."

"No worries. You'll knock her sideways."

Andrea smiled and tossed back the newly styled hair. "I hope so." She paid her bill and walked out of the shop with a light step.

The next few weeks just seemed to fly by. Andrea made her travel arrangements a step up from her usual economy class. Even her rental car was chosen for the fun factor and not because it was the cheapest wreck on the lot.

Her flight arrived on time and she was amazed at how quickly she remembered the way to campus. She drove around the dorms, marveling out how little everything had changed. Parking her car in the lot beside the gymnasium, Andrea walked past the darkened building to the well-lighted main hall. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she ascended the stairs and took her place in the line for name badges.

"Andrea Carpenter as I live and breath!"

Turning to the voice, Andrea saw her old lab partner. Neither had been any good at biochemistry and they bonded over the shared struggle to pass the class.

"Dougie. You are looking good."

Self consciously patting his dark hair, he whispered, "It's a rug."

"Really? I never would have guessed," Andrea replied. While she meant that his toupee was so obvious that no guessing was necessary, he took the compliment at face value.

"Thanks. I can't believe my luck."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I was just coming back from the bathroom when I saw you. You are one of the last to arrive."

"It's not that late."

"Trust me, it is." Doug waited while she pinned on her badge and then dragged her to the bar. "Give me two shots of tequila for the latecomer."

"Whoa. Slow down, man."

"No. We've go to catch you up to the rest of us." Doug watched as she threw back the fiery alcohol. "Good. Now, what do you want to drink?"

"I'll have a rum and coke."

"Excellent." Doug grabbed a tray. "I need seven beers."

"Doug, do you have a drinking problem we should talk about?"

"No, it was my turn to get the round. Come on. You've got to see everyone. They've been asking about you." Doug grabbed Andrea by the shoulder and dragged her over to the table by the window.

Her closest circle of friends from her college days sat in the eight seats surrounding it. There were three empty chairs and she dropped into one of them. She smiled in happiness at seeing them all again.

The small group was noisy as they exchanged news from the past decade. There had been a scattering of phone calls and emails over the years but this was the first time she had seen anyone since she left school. Kicking herself for closing her self off from her friends, Andrea nearly choked when she looked across the table at the person who dropped into the final vacant chair.

Erica Witherspoon met her eyes across a space far vaster than the width of the table. Raising her bottle, she toasted Andrea.

"Breathe."

"What?" Andrea turned dazed eyes to her seatmate.

Even though they were the same age, Grace Murphy had always treated her like a little sister. "Is this the first time you've seen each other since, well, you know?" she asked delicately.

"Yeah."

Grace Murphy looked at her sympathetically. "You look pole axed."

"I came here to put her behind me and there she sits." Andrea sneaked another glance across the table. "She looks good."

"You look better."

"Thank you." Andrea smiled. "You don't have a problem?"

"That would be a bit hypocritical of me, now wouldn't it." Winking, Grace waved her left hand.

"That's quite a rock."

"My partner, Allison put it there on our wedding day three years ago."

"Congratulations." Andrea grinned at her. "I'm so glad you came out. You didn't have the best track record with guys."

"I could say the same thing about you." Grace leaned closer and whispered. "Don't look now but I don't think she likes that we're getting cozy."

Darting a glance over, Andrea could see the small line that was forming between Erica's eyebrows. "No, she never did like to share."

"But she was willing to let things go to waste instead."

Andrea found herself in the strange position of defending the woman that had broken her heart. "She wasn't like that."

"She made you a wreck. I don't know how you made it through that last week."

"It's a total blur."

"You were like a sleepwalker."

"Or like a punch drunk boxer," interjected the woman sitting on Andrea's left.

"Hey, Jane."

"Hey, yourself. I never expected to see you at one of these. I figured your memories had been tainted and you would never be able to face us again."

"I almost didn't."

"Why did you come?" Erica asked from across the table.

"I got a kick in the ass."

"By a lover?"

"No. Someone more important."

"What did they say?"

"They said enough to get me away from work and here."

"I'm glad you listened," Erica interjected softly. She had been unabashedly listening to their conversation.

Andrea shrugged off Erica's comment. "Whatever."

"Hey, everybody. I've got a question," Dave began. "I want you all to tell me of the greatest, most enduring lesson you learned from our years of schooling."

"I learned what I needed to graduate. Nothing more." Jane shook her head. "Nothing in the History of Philosophy prepared me for being a vet."

"Seriously, guys. There must have been some lessons that you took away from here."

"You're kidding, right?" Andréa took a deep drink from her rum and coke.

"No, you must have been able to apply something from school." Doug pulled off his glasses and feverishly wiped them. Sliding them back on his face, he grinned. "I know something."

"Tell us."

"Hot glass looks like cold glass."

"That's it?" Grace asked. "That's your burning revelation?"

"Darling, it's the burning that made it such a revelation. I learned it after my first chemistry class and apply it each time I pull a casserole dish from the oven."

"Ooh, I have one." Jane cooed as she raised her hand.

"Lay it on us."

"I learned this from school nurse. Does it still count?"

Doug nodded. "Let's here it."

"STD's aren't as common as you think and most can be treated."

The group burst into laughter. Jane was famous in school for being a hypochondriac and for the revolving door on her dorm room. Nearly all of them had spent time holding her hands in waiting rooms as she panicked about a bodily reaction.

Sighing, Doug shook his head. "Not all though."

They sobered up as they though about the classmates that they had lost to AIDS. Breaking the silence, Grace spoke up. "Cui bono," she said authoritatively.

"What?"

"You don't remember your Latin?"

"Or your Marxism studies," interjected Andrea.

"No, what's it mean?"

"Who benefits. Anytime you want to figure out the motives of any action, ask yourself who benefits."

"Cool. Owen?"

"Don't get married before you're twenty." The big man blushed.

"How many times is it now?" Grace asked.

"Four and, I swear I'm done with marriage."

"You said that the last time we met and you were at three."

"Yeah, she was pretty convincing."

"So what happened?"

"She got convinced." Owen laughed with everyone else. "Who's next?"

"Your friends are typically right when it comes to whether or not to dump a boyfriend." Jennifer nodded at Andrea. "Or girlfriend."

Erica locked eyes with Andrea as she answered, "Perseverance matters." She shrugged. "You might lose, you might fail but you have to try again."

"What about you, Andrea?"

"Love is a loser's game."

"That's harsh."

"I call it as I see it." Andrea stared across the low table and held Erica's eyes. She got no satisfaction from seeing the tears welling up. She just felt empty. Rattling the ice in her empty glass, she grinned ruefully at the group. "Sorry, I'm out of booze and that has made me cranky. Don't let me be a buzz kill." She shoved her seat back and strode toward the open doors leading to the patio.

Andrea made her way across the balcony. Shaking off the flashback of many an afternoon spent studying in the sun, she leaned her arms on the rail and took several deep breaths. Her frantic heartbeat calming, she lifted her head and looked over the lake that bisected the campus. The lights from the academic building reflected in the water and she relaxed.

"Hey."

Stiffening, Andrea clenched her hands on the railing. Willing her voice not to break, she replied, "Hey, yourself."

Erica leaned her back on the railing and studied her one time friend. Except for a sprinkling of grey in the hair over her ears, Andrea looked the essentially the same. Her trim, athletic figure was just as she had remembered. If only she could get a look into her eyes.

"Was there something in particular you wanted?"

"I didn't expect to see you back here." Erica turned to scan the campus. "I came to the one and five year reunions and had given up hope that you would ever come back."

"Good for you."

"I swore after the last one that I wouldn't keep trying. I wouldn't keep hoping that you'd show up."

"Why would you hope for that?" Andrea was genuinely puzzled. "I would think that I would be the last person you would want to see."

"Why?

"Why do you think?"

"Please, Andi. Give me a chance. I just want to talk to you."

"Now you want to talk? I could have used a conversation then."

"I tried."

"When? For a week, I looked for you to say even a single word to me. You couldn't even be bothered to tell me goodbye and you snuck all of your stuff out of the room when I wasn't around."

"I'm sorry."

"Whatever." Andrea stepped away from the rail.

Before she could move away, Erica grabbed her arm. "Please. Don't go."

"What is there left to say? Coming back here was a mistake."

"There is going to be a tour of the dorms. Please come with me." At Andrea's skeptical look, she held her hands up. "Give me this one chance. I think that is why you came. Please."

After all this time, Andrea was no more immune to Erica's wishes than she had been as a callow youth. "Fine," she answered shortly. "Let's do it."

Trailing along behind the others, Andrea and Erica dropped out of the tour when they reached their old room. While Andrea prowled the perimeter, Erica perched on one of the desks. The narrow beds with the blue striped mattresses were too loaded to be an option.

Eventually, Andrea stopped pacing and she turned to Erica. "So, you wanted to talk," she said, flatly.

"Tell me what you think happened."

"I kissed you, told you I loved you and you threw everything, including our friendship away in response."

"I never meant hurt you."

"I lost everything when you left."

"I was scared. I treated you badly."

"Badly? That's an understatement. I've known Category 5 storms that have done less damage."

"You telling me was the bravest thing I have ever witnessed. I reacted like my parent's daughter and not like a friend."

"Even after you stormed out, I thought we still might be friends." Andrea stood up and began to pace back and forth again. "When I came back from class and your stuff was cleared out, I had to accept the truth. I meant nothing to you."

"That's not true."

"Really? I don't think I've really gotten over that I wasn't worthy of an explanation that would only have taking a moment of your time."

"That's not it." Tears began to fall from Erica's eyes. "Don't you understand? You didn't mean too little. You meant too much. I couldn't deal with all of the emotions. I ran away. I shut down and I've regretted that every day since then."

"What does it matter? I'm over you."

"It matters because you matter." Erica got into Andrea's personal space. "Wait…you're over me?" Her voice was filled with disbelief. "Then why are you here?"

"I didn't want it have any more power over me. Because of the way you reacted, I've been scared to let anyone else get close. I haven't made any effort to care deeply for anyone, much less say those words to anyone else."

"There hasn't been anyone?"

"Nothing that meant anything. I'd hook up with someone from a bar sometimes. I used to travel a lot more for my job and I'd make a connection out of town." Andrea sighed. "Anything that lasted longer than night involved a long series of psychos that my therapist labeled as dangerously unhealthy."

"I'm sorry. I have no excuse for my behavior but I'm so sorry I hurt you." Erica reached into her back pocket and held out something to Andrea. "Here."

"What's this?"

"I spent the days after the kiss just berating myself and trying to find a way back to you. There was a whole lot I needed to say, so I wrote you a letter. This is it."

"Why didn't you give it to me then?"

"My parents came early and I was in such bad shape that I confessed to them what had happened. So fast it made my head spin, I was moved out of our room. They never left me alone, so, I gave it to Krista to give to you. I spent all summer expecting you to call or write or something to at least acknowledge what I had written."

"I never got anything from her."

"I know that now. Back then, I was devastated. I knew you must hate me." Erica ran her fingers through her hair. "I was a mess that entire summer. I thought my life was over. I only went to law school because my parents couldn't get a refund on tuition. Once there, I threw myself into my studies. It wasn't until I ran into Krista at graduation did I find out that she hadn't bothered to find you."

"She what?"

"She said she didn't approve of homosexuality. She did it for my own good."

"That bitch."

"You said it. At least she kept the letter." Erica extended it again. "Take it."

Gingerly, Andrea took the yellowed envelope and traced her thumb over the writing that was once as familiar to her as her own. Looking up into Erica's worried eyes, she swallowed back her first retort and just looked helplessly at her first love.

"Open it. Please, Andrea. Read it now."

Andrea tore the edge of the envelope and read the words written on a single piece of paper.

May 13th, 1990.

Dear Andi, I hope I can still call you dear after what I've done.

Thank you for being brave. For being the one to take the risk to make the first move. We both know I never would have acted on my attraction.

I know I hurt you when I ran off. My head was spinning from your kiss and then it was just ringing with all hateful things I've heard my father say. I had to run and, when I stopped, I didn't know how to go back.

I love you, too, Andi. I think I always have. Please give me a chance to make things right.

I'll be in Michigan for the summer. The number is 231-555-1443. Please call. I've already asked my Aunt and she said it is all right for you to come so we can work things out.

I can't expect you to forget what I've done. I just hope you can forgive me and we can try and figure out where we can go from here. Because, my love, I want to go with you.

Yours truly,
Erica