Kirsten stood awkwardly with her glass of champagne. She was getting cold and worried about her dress. Perhaps the silk was a bit too sheer, she mused…she felt as though her every pore were visible through it.

"Hey, Kirsten. I'm glad you came." Jimmy. Hi, Jimmy.

"Hey. Congratulations," she said, turning to give him a friendly kiss on the cheek. "It was a lovely wedding, and Julie is, frankly, stunning." Jimmy raised his eyebrows, bemused.

"Um, 'lovely wedding?' 'Frankly stunning?' Am I talking to Kirsten Nichol, or…?"

"No; you're talking to Kirsten Cohen," she said, smoothly. Then she smiled sweetly. "But, really, Jimmy, it was nice. You deserve all the congratulations in the world." Still, he didn't feel as though her smile rang true.

"I love her, Kirsten."

"I know you do. And I'm happy for you, really."

"She's the right girl for me, Kiks," he said slowly, and she winced at his reverting to the nickname. The nickname was reserved for the girl she had been, the girl he had loved, the girl who was gone forever, and now it just sounded odd. "Just like Sandy's the right guy for you. See, I…I need a woman who's more than willing to tell me what to do. Let's face it; I have always been a man in search of a woman to boss me around. Don't say you don't know it," he warned her, as Kirsten began to open her mouth to deny his comment. "I know that's at least part of the reason you broke up with me. It's who I am, and I…I can accept that. You, on the other hand, need a man with a bit more backbone. You need a man who'll fight with you, and not just when you feel like arguing. You need a man who…has opinions, and sticks up for them. You need a man who loves you more than the world, but doesn't want to be your yes-man. And lucky us," finished Jimmy, finally coming up for air. "We found our perfect matches." Kirsten nodded, her fond, loving smile fixated on Sandy, who was awkwardly trying to talk to some Newpsie-or-other.

"It's just weird, you know?" she said. The band began to play a slow song, and they both hesitated as they remembered the singer at Kirsten's wedding who'd rendered such a nice version of "Time After Time."

"Do you…" started Jimmy. He just let the words hang. She looked so beautiful, so familiar but so different. The green dress brought out the blue of her eyes, and the soft hair hanging about her face…

No. No, it wasn't a good idea, they both realized before the sentence was finished. Besides, they didn't need it. There was no need to toast nostalgia when they had both moved on.

Kirsten's arms reached around Jimmy's shoulders and she hugged him.

"There will always be a place in my heart for Jimmy Cooper," she said softly.

"And…there'll always be a place in my heart for Kirsten Nichol," he replied. He placed a slight emphasis on her maiden name that did not go unnoticed. She turned and began to walk away.

"Kirsten?" he called, and she turned. She was so beautiful.

"Yes?"

"Do you think…do you think that this would've been easier if we'd just…broken on bad terms and never spoken again, never tried to be friends?" She regarded him evenly.

"Yes, I do," was her soft response. His face began to fall.

"But nothing worth having is easy, right? You're a good man, James Fenimore Cooper," she teased. He did hate The Last of the Mohicans enough for it to still be fun. "Friendship will be worth it."

"Definitely…Kirsten Angela Cohen." Unfortunately, there was no literary joke that fit her, but she did hate her middle name, so it was the best that Jimmy could do. She smiled. "Thanks for coming."

"Thanks for having us." She turned again, and this time she walked surely over to her husband.

"Hey, Kirsten," Sandy said, his lips meeting hers in greeting. Glancing down at her body, he noted, "You look cold," and without a word, he took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She looked up at him and smiled.

"Thanks."

Another slow song began to play, and his arms went around her waist.

"Dance with me." She was only too happy to comply.

I have been a rover

I have walked alone

Hiked a hundred highways

Never found a home

Still, in all I'm happy

Reason is, you see

Once in awhile, along the way

Love's been good to me

Sandy sang along with the singer, and Kirsten closed her eyes. She had never been able to determine if the Frank Sinatra song were a happy or sad one. It had always been a bit melancholy for her taste, but there was no question as to her feelings when Sandy was singing to her.

"I love you, Sandy," she murmured sleepily. It had been a long day.

"I love you, too, Kirsten." She smelled the faint scent of his cologne and smiled. His arms were the safest, the warmest, the most wonderful place in the world to be.

"You smell nice."

"So do you," said Sandy, pausing from his singing long enough to inhale the fragrance of her shampoo. He was so glad she'd avoided the heavy hairspray so many other girls wore.

"We're lucky, aren't we?"

"I know I'm the happiest man in the world…so, yes, I suppose we are." Kirsten smiled into his neck.

"I don't really want to stay much longer," she told him. "I already said congratulations to Jimmy, so if I can just say hello to Julie and goodbye to Marissa and Mr. and Mrs. Cooper…can we leave?"

"Of course we can," he said without interrupting their dance. As the last strains of the music faded away, Kirsten snapped back to reality and opened her eyes to find her husband looking at her. She instinctively smiled again and kissed him.

"Julie," Kirsten called when the new Mrs. Cooper walked by. The young woman's ruddy head turned. So many people had spoken to her today whom she'd never met! But there was no mistaking who the girl in the green dress was.

"Hi, Kirsten," she said, clearly trying. Kirsten gave her an honest smile.

"Congratulations. He's a good guy. You're a lucky girl." Julie smiled, still a bit wary.

"Yeah…yeah, I am. Thanks, Kirsten. I hope you two had a good time."

"We did," Sandy assured her. "It was a beautiful wedding." Julie smiled again, and finally seemed comfortable.

"I'm glad. Thanks again, Kirsten. You know, I especially value it from you." The two women smiled at each other, and with that, Julie Cooper walked away.

She sought out Danielle and Jim Cooper and complimented them on the elegant and tasteful wedding. They thanked her a little bit too heartily, and Kirsten knew that they still weren't ready for her to be their son's ex-girlfriend. Poor, poor Mr. and Mrs. Cooper; it always took the adults too long to realize what their children had learned. Jimmy was right: he was better off with Julie, and Kirsten hoped for his sake that his parents realized it.

Lastly, she needed to bid farewell to Marissa. Marissa, who was the closest thing to an older sister she had. Marissa, who'd named her daughter after Kirsten. Marissa, who was polishing off yet another drink in the corner. Kirsten made a mental note to talk to Marissa about her drinking; while they'd both always loved a glass of…whatever…Marissa seemed to be going too far.

"Hey, Riss," said Kirsten softly, using Jimmy's nickname for her.

"Oh, hi, Kirsten," was the dully-spoken response. "I guess it's done now? Julie Macabre is Mrs. Jimmy Cooper, and there's nothing I can do about it." Kirsten frowned.

"She seems nice…and like the kind of girl Jimmy should be with." Marissa laughed bitterly. The alcohol had clearly gone to her head.

"Yeah, a whore-y dominatrix. I just…I always thought you'd be my sister-in-law."

"Jimmy's getting married doesn't have to affect our relationship," said Kirsten softly.

"But it has," Marissa pointed out, just as softly. "We used to hang out all the time, and now, today is the first time I've spoken to you since your wedding. I half-wish that you and Jimmy would stay seventeen forever. Life was good when you and Jimmy were seventeen."

"It was a good year," Kirsten admitted, and it had been. The end of junior year and the beginning of senior year had been so picture-perfect that she almost didn't believe the memory.

"Yeah. And now I'm old and you're married and Julie Macabre is my sister-in-law…and the worst part of it is you're right. You shouldn't have married Jimmy; I've known that for years. But I was selfish and wanted you to." She looked straight into Kirsten's blue eyes with her doe-like brown ones. "Jimmy—on paper, he was right for you. Just like…Well, no matter. Can't change what's done. But—God. I wish we had 1979 forever and ever and ever…" She poured a martini down her throat and winced. "Remind me not to drive home."

"Actually, we're leaving now," said Kirsten, trying to keep the pity from her eyes. This couldn't be. Marissa Cooper was beautiful and intelligent and accomplished and put-together. She was bright and funny and wise and loving. Marissa was many things, but the bitter, drunken sister of the groom at a wedding was not one of them. What had happened to her old friend, and why hadn't she noticed?

"Do you want to come with us?" Might as well ask; the girl didn't seem to want to stay and there was room in Sandy's car. Marissa shook her head.

"I'm his sister. I need to fake the welcoming-family bit a little longer. God knows Mom and Dad can't do it."

"You're sure you're going to be okay with all the drinks?" asked Kirsten hesitantly.

"You know I hold my liquor better than any girl in Orange County," said Marissa with a laugh. "Well…except maybe you, when you try." Both women smiled thinly.

"Okay, then. Bye, Marissa. Take care of yourself." She reached her arms around Marissa's thin body.

"You, too, Kirsten. Love you."

"Love you, too." Kirsten turned and Marissa watched her leave, taking Sandy's arm and kissing him and whispering and giggling. Her eyes turned next to her little daughter, blonde-haired, brown-eyed, and pretty. Please, God, let Kirsten Whitman turn out like Kirsten Nichol did. Be good to my little girl.

"You okay, baby?" asked Sandy with concern, eyeing Kirsten through his peripheral vision.

"Yeah…no, not really," she admitted.

"Jimmy?" he asked quietly. Kirsten shook her head.

"His sister, Marissa. She's so sad, Sandy, and I'm not even sure why. I mean, she says it's Julie and Jimmy, but I know it's not that. We…we used to be such good friends. She was the one who took me to get a birth-control pill prescription, you know? We were close, and we aren't anymore, and it's sad." Sandy took his right hand off the wheel long enough to stroke her leg gently.

"Yeah, I know."

"Sandy? Thanks for being so nice about the whole Jimmy's-wedding thing."

"Anything for you, you know that. I love you."

"I love you more." He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, let's not start that." She giggled. Life had been good, Marissa was right, six years ago, but she wholly believed that it was better now.