KRISTY

January first

3:31 a.m

Just got in from celebrating the New Year. MA and I went to a party at Claud's apt. in NY. Somehow got to talking about graduating after one of Claud's artsy friends told a funny story about his h.s grad. That led to a discussion about m.s grad and the grad letters we had to write to ourselves at good old SMS. Claud was actually the one who remembered about the pact. Can't believe almost forgot about it. MA and I talked about it on the ride home. She still has her letter. Wonder what I did with mine?!? Will look for it in the morning but in the mean time am debating on whether to go through with this thing. Too tired to think about it now.

3:57

Am not fooling myself. Of course will go through with it. BSC was important, after all, and will be fun to see what everyone's up to.

It was easy to think optimistically about the pact in the wee hours of the morning, but when I groggily awoke the next day, my optimism had been replaced by practicality. As I slowly sat up from my tangled covers, it dawned on me that I didn't actually have a copy of the pact. If I had forgotten, most likely the others had, too. The others were former friends of mine; they had been there through some of the toughest times in my life. I thought for a moment about each of them, trying to picture us back then. I slung myself out of bed and padded to my closet, where I rifled through my keepsake box looking for a particular photo.

There it was, under my high school graduation announcement and my brother Charlie's engagement announcement, the Babysitter's Club forever captured in a glossy 5X7 print. The eight of us stood crowded together in front of the SMS gym, each of us looking directly into the camera with expressions that were much more cheerful than I remembered. Mary Anne Spier, my best friend then and now, was standing between her stepsister Dawn Schafer, who was at one end, and myself. I was wedged between Mary Anne and Claudia Kishi. Stacey McGill was on the other end and crouched in front of us were Abby Stevenson, Jessi Ramsey and Mallory Pike. I looked closely at myself, a short tomboy with a ponytail and my "dressed up" jeans. The expression on my face was one of wistfulness and fear; I had been so afraid to let go, to grow up. I felt a flutter of that same feeling creep into my stomach and I quickly dropped the photo.

I was once again close to closing another stage in my life. I was about to start my final quarter of college and I was scared. It wasn't exactly the same fear; after all, I'd grown up quite a lot since I was that bossy little girl. I'd gotten through high school with decent grades, made new friends and kept some old ones, replaced my dwindling babysitting hobby with volunteering at a local homeless shelter and learned to put my bossiness to use on the debate team. High school came and went and by the time graduation rolled around I had been more than ready to leave home and become an adult. I'd applied to UCLA in California after visiting my brother Charlie there a few times. It wasn't so much that the school impressed me; I'd been in awe of the women's softball team. Those girls were serious athletes, first in their division, and with team spirit to boot. Watching those girls had reminded me of the time I went to a softball sleep-away camp. That had been one of the best experiences of my life and I had hoped to duplicate it if I could only make the team. Turns out, I was accepted to UCLA and made the team. College life was good and I already regretted to see it end.

I picked up the photo of me and the girls who had once been so important in my life and stuck it back in the box. Somehow, looking at that photo had made me feel more secure and yet more anxious. It was ridiculous to think that a reunion would actually happen, let alone that I'd actually get in touch with everyone. Oh, I'd kept in touch with Claudia and Mary Anne. Despite the geographical distance, there was a bond we shared, one that we had made as babies in diapers, before we had words, which kept the three of us friendly throughout the years. But I'd lost touch with the others throughout the years.

Dawn, Mallory and Jessi had been away since the summer the last photo of all of us had been taken. The rest of us had stuck around at Stoneybrook High, but had quickly outgrown each other, replacing our eclectic group with friends more suited to each of our tastes. Since then, everyone had pretty much drifted apart until we wouldn't even say hello to each other at the grocery store.

It was always awkward running into one of them. We'd shift our eyes and casually wander off into other isles, hoping that our parents wouldn't stop to chat. Most of us were away at school, so these types of run-ins only happened when we were at home for term breaks. It was odd seeing someone and knowing so much about them without having spoken to them in years. I felt so many mixed emotions whenever I ran into anyone. I wanted to go up to each one of them and ask a million questions, each one starting with "do you remember when…" and ending with "maybe we could get together sometime?" but I had learned that you can't go back to your past, you just have to keep pushing forward. Still, even after all these years it was hard to deny the friendship we had once shared was something special. That was the real reason we had avoided each other. I think we all wanted to keep our distance. It was just easier that way.

Which is why I shut the lid of my keepsake box and tried to put the pact and the reunion out of my mind.