Francie grimaced slightly as she took out a pad of paper. She felt a momentary pang of regret over the last wedding gift she had politely sent back. Charlie's computer nerd cousin had sent her a second-hand laptop, very useful, but she would have felt hypocritical keeping it. Her non- practical resolutions were still hers to stick to. Her ex-fiancée still sent pleading phone calls and requests through mutual acquaintances, all believing they were helping the 'cutest couple' on campus. Evidentially his proclamations of change didn't extended to admitting he was wrong.

"Hey, do you know anything about this guy?" The question caused Francie to jump.

The girl in front of her smiled apologetically. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Francie smiled and offered her hand. "Don't worry about it," she said. "I'm Francie. I don't know anything about this guy"

"Jessie. If he's a Tony Robbins wannabe, I'm so out of here," The redhead replied.

Francie agreed wholeheartedly. Around the sparsely populated lecture theatre similarly anxious conversations were taking place. Francie felt a sense of relief knowing that people with a wide range of degrees surrounded her. There was Brendan Fields, the notoriously cynical philosophy student, and Marina Lyn, the acclaimed opera singer. It was comforting to know that it wasn't just her who felt like a failure.

"So what are you studying?" Francie asked, deciding to strike up a conversation with the obviously nervous redhead.

"Advanced Physics," Jessie said, getting up and sliding into the vacant seat next to Francie. She instantly read the judgment Francie wasn't conscious of making. "We're not all geniuses; I'm more like a dumb person playing smart 24/7"

Francie wasn't entirely convinced, but talking to someone was relaxing her nerves so she raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "You're surrounded by pasty faced nerds?" she guessed.

"Pasty faced, trek obsessed nerds," Jessie laughed. "I got dumped among them because I failed astronomy."

Before Francie could reply, the door opened, admitting a slightly haggard looking man. He glanced around the theater before moving behind the lecture podium. His shockingly blue eyes scanned the students intently. "Hi, guys, my name's Matt."

"Not Tony so far," Jessie murmured.

Francie nodded. Matt's voice was not enthusiastic or annoyingly energized like most trained orators. It had an almost lyrical quality and yet it didn't warrant such a poetic label.
After about half an hour everybody, even the ever-mocking Brendan, was busily taking notes. Matt was casual yet professional, taking their sometimes scathing retorts with well-practiced ease. Noticeably absent were the buzzwords and over-animated gestures. Instead, he offered practical ways for them to approach their futures outside the campus.

"How many of you have brilliant friends?" Matt questioned, leaning against the podium.

"So now we have subconscious competitive issues?" Brendan shot back.

"No," Matt said without any particular inflection, clearly not rising to ill-concealed bait. "Even if you did, I am not a medical authority"

**

Francie grinned tiredly as she put her notes and pens away. She was feeling buzzed. Excited chatter added to her general feeling of happiness. Shouldering her pack, she prepared to leave.

"I just can't wait to be Mrs. Walker!"

Francie felt her legs go dangerously weak. The oblivious students passed her, the apparent fiancée surrounded by jokingly jealous friends. Hot tears pricked her eyes and Francie bit down hard on a sob.

Feelingly light-headed and slightly sick, Francie willed herself not to break down. The sound of quiet footsteps was enough to penetrate her haze. Despair was momentarily suppressed by embarrassment. Feeling her cheeks burn, she looked up into the concerned eyes of Matt Coleman.

Up close Francie was able to confirm something she had already suspected. His smile was gentle--not wimpy or anything stereotypical, just gentle. His light brown hair fell in a messy fringe, and his eyes seemed almost too bright for his graceful features

"I'm sorry."

"Are you ok?" Matt asked gently, crouching down besides the desk.

"Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"Not even slightly," Matt replied.

Matt already had a fair idea of what was going on. He had overheard part of the conversation that had upset her.

"I'm sure you've got better things to do than listening to my sob story," Francie countered, ignoring the urge to cry on this stranger's shoulder. Sydney was at yet another bank thing in Washington. Besides, as understanding as her best friend was, there were only so many times they could rehash the same thing.
Charlie was a cheating bastard.

"Is there somebody I can call for you?" Matt ignored her sob story claim. His friends constantly teased him about his inability to resist the chance to help a person in distress.

"No, I'll be fine," Francie said, hurriedly standing up and smiling unconvincingly. "Your lecture was great, it really helped me out."

"Have lunch with me," Matt said impulsively before cursing his almost naïve attitude when it came to offering help without thinking how it sound. The fact that his offer resembled a cheap pick up line was now painfully clear to him.

Francie regarded him incredulously. "Do you always peruse your classes for potential dates?"

"Only the exceedingly attractive ones," Matt joked with a sight shrug of embarrassment.

Francie didn't relish going home to an empty apartment with nothing but Charlie's machine clogging messages to keep her company. She knew that Syd would drop everything, but Francie had had the impression at breakfast that her friend's work was even more consuming than usual.

"Ok," she agreed tentatively.

***

"Sydney, are you ok?"

Francie had entered the apartment feeling more genuinely happy then she had in a long time. Matt was easy to talk to and they ended up chatting about a large number to topics. They were soon joined by several other students who wanting to thank Matt for his 'way cool' speech. It was a fun and relaxing atmosphere, but now Francie felt her joy fade, replaced by fearful apprehension.

Sydney was hunched on the couch, tracing the much speculated about picture frame with shaking fingers. She didn't look up as Francie came around and sat beside her.

"What's wrong?"

The lie was ready.

A perfectly prepared story of fiction, an extended version of ones Sydney had used before. Francie won't fall for "I'm fine" anymore than Will had. Nor would Francie meticulously accept her false "It's ok," knowing that she was not like her stoic father.

Francie knew Sydney as a person but knew so little of who she was.

For some reason she couldn't articulate the doubtlessly convincing story about the death of a coworker's wife. She couldn't bear Francie's genuine comfort for something that had never happened.

She was so tired of all the lies. "Laura Bristow" had never existed, so it was ridiculous that her mother's wordless melody keep playing in her head, giving comfort. Her father didn't know her, so why did she suddenly crave the comfort he wouldn't be able to give? Vaughn was trapped behind the same impenetrable wall that kept her from saying anything beyond necessity to him.

Clichéd lack of communication, but Sydney doubted that anything in her ever- twisting life could be defined as "overdone."

Francie blinked in surprise when her friend looked up. Instead of the tears she was fully prepared to deal with, Sydney's eyes were dry and looked relatively normal.

"Michael and I decided that whatever we had wasn't worth pursuing," Sydney said, not faking the tremble that was unmistakable.

Sydney had just admitted the existence of the fiercely denied "picture frame guy."

Giving her friend an overused smile of resignation, Sydney stood up. She couldn't afford to cry, she was due at the Sloane's for dinner.