§ § § - August 20, 2008

"I still want to throttle Nick," Myeko was grumbling as Leslie piloted a borrowed rover west along the Ring Road toward the high school, where the class of 1983 was holding its quarter-century reunion. "I thought all the guys were going to come with us like they did at the twentieth reunion, and then he decides to have a manly-man party on the same night of this one. I didn't think he hated the last one that much."

"It's probably got nothing to do with hating them," Maureen said sensibly. "It's just that none of the husbands went to the same school with us in the same year, so there's nothing in it for them. Let them enjoy themselves, and we'll do the same. It'll be girls' night out. I've been looking forward to this for weeks. Grady's spent the whole summer picking on me about all the 80s music he thinks they'll be playing while we're there."

"Your husband really needs to cultivate a broader appreciation of music," said Lauren. "Or at least a little more tolerance."

"You know what?" Leslie said. "I've been wondering if we're going to see Tabitha there. I called Fernando at his office the other day and he said he's going to make sure she goes, but she refused to go with us and he wasn't prepared to defy her in that."

Camille snorted. "Wimp. I still think we should've swung by their house so I could go in and grab her hair and drag her out like a caveman does with his wife."

"But that'd make you the caveman," Leslie pointed out, touching off laughter. "If she's there, then chances are we'll see her at some point."

"She needs to apologize," Myeko said firmly. "Maybe she'll be ready to come around and tell us what her problem is, even if we can't help her with it."

"And meanwhile, the five of us, at least, are gonna have some serious fun," Lauren put in. "We didn't stay very long at the twentieth reunion, so maybe we should put in some good time at this one, touch base with some classmates."

"Do you think everybody from the class of eighty-three is gonna make it?" Camille asked, and the speculation surrounding that topic kept them occupied for the remainder of the drive to the high school.

Inside the building, they followed the noise down to the cafeteria where the six of them had spent so many weekdays chatting, comparing classes and teachers, complaining about their lunches and/or their siblings, and on Mondays, getting the scoop from Leslie about the weekend just past. "The good old days," Myeko said, sniffing deeply and then freezing in mid-step, her face taking on a very strange expression that made her friends start giggling helplessly. "Seriously, are the lunches still that bad? I can smell them!"

Laughing, they managed to find an empty table big enough to accommodate them all, with a few extra chairs, and settled down around it, scanning the room for faces they might recognize. "You see Tabitha anywhere?" Lauren asked.

"No, but that doesn't mean she's not here," Camille said. "There's a bigger crowd than I thought there'd be, this early on. Leslie, have you heard anything from Frida?"

"I asked her about the reunion as far back as March or April, but she said she couldn't make it. She told me it coincided with her scheduled vacation to the Isle of Capri."

"Oh wow," the others exclaimed enviously, and Lauren added, "Do you suppose any of the Coral Island grads will show up?"

"Frida's the one who was friends with Coral Island kids more than with us Fantasy Islanders," Maureen mused. "Unless you can remember anyone, Myeko."

"Oh, some," said Myeko. "I remember a bunch of them used to come to my Halloween parties every year. The only two I really remember that well were a couple of Frida's friends, Michelle Stockwell and Caitlyn DiAngelo. I tell you one thing, I hope I don't see that crazy Rae Ellen Moore. And if I do, I hope like heck she's not the hostess, like she was for the twentieth reunion. She tried to make a bad comic routine out of it."

"Maybe that's the real reason we left early," Leslie suggested with a grin, and they all laughed again. "Oh geez-look who just came in. It's Cori Mukulani."

"I thought she left the island," said Lauren in surprise.

"No, her sister did," Leslie said. "Cori's still around. Still works down at that seedy bar near the fishing village."

"And still as fat as ever," Camille said. The girls watched Cori lumber across the room and push a pair of chairs together, then lower her bulk atop them, before Camille let out a sigh and said, "She never changes, at least."

"Unlike everybody else, you mean?" suggested Myeko with a smirk, and the girls shared another laugh. "No, you're right, she looks almost exactly the same, except maybe a little older."

"And a little fatter," Camille added.

"Maybe a lot fatter," Lauren said. "Dragging around all that weight can't be easy, not to mention being as unhealthy as you can get." She squinted at Leslie. "Didn't you say she had a fantasy one time?"

Leslie groaned and rolled her eyes. "What, didn't I tell you guys about it?"

"I don't remember hearing about it," Myeko hinted, eyeing Leslie with an expectant look. "I can say for sure that you never told me about it at least."

"Probably because it was so improbable. She came to us begging to meet Carlono because she said she'd followed his exploits in the news for years and claimed to be in love with him. But she knew she'd never get anything more than a second revolted glance from him, so she asked Father to work some magic on her…and he made her thin for a weekend." Leslie shook her head with the memory. "It was the most…thorough transformation I've ever seen. Without all that weight, she looked like a different person."

"Crap," Camille said, astonished. "Cori and Carlono. I can't even picture it."

Leslie snickered. "We had to do more than just remove her extra weight for the weekend. She had to have her hair done, get a new wardrobe, even get her legs shaved for what I think she said was the first time in her life. She had to have dance lessons, and we even had to recruit Christian's niece to teach her how to conduct herself around royalty. You guys missed quite a little show there."

Her friends were shaking their heads. "I wish we had seen it," Lauren said. "So what kind of impression did she make on Carlono?"

"None that lasted beyond the weekend," Leslie said. "That abrasive personality of hers just wouldn't be subdued in spite of everything-even her own hopeless adoration of him. We haven't seen her since then…not that I'm keen on that happening." She caught sight of something from the corner of her eye and glanced at the door, but didn't recognize the person who entered. "I wonder what's supposed to happen - do we have some kind of self-appointed MC like with Rae Ellen five years ago, or is this just a free-for-all where you go floating around looking for people you used to know?"

Her friends laughed, but before anyone could say anything, the cafeteria door opened and Michiko came in, her face thunderous and every step taken at a push and a strongly whispered admonition from her mother, who was right behind her. Miyoshi spotted the girls first and said something else to Michiko, her voice rising just enough to allow the girls to hear that she was so angry she was scolding her daughter in Japanese. She pointed at the girls' table and gave Michiko a command, and Michiko threw them a look and began to shuffle in their direction, her expression forbidding. Miyoshi nodded once, waved at the girls and disappeared.

"Well well," Camille said. "So you showed up, and it took your mother to get you here. Get that look off your face. This is supposed to be fun."

Michiko's only answer was a glare, and Lauren sighed. "Well, we were talking about people we used to know. Maybe the idea is to mingle and try to find those people, instead of sitting around here waiting for them to stumble over us. Come on, Michiko, I'm sure you'll remember some people from choir."

They decided to meet at the exit in about an hour to find out whether any of them had met up with past acquaintances, and then split up to look for them. Michiko, however, stuck with Leslie, who if the truth be told was slightly relieved at this, and for more than one reason. She was nervous; she could remember only two occasions on which she hadn't had her friends around her for at least some part of the school day: on her very first day in eighth grade when she had first come to live with Roarke and Tattoo, and in her senior year when the other girls had all had the mumps and the only person who would sit with her was Cori Mukulani. "Good," she said without thinking.

Michiko looked askance at her. "Why?" she asked, showing some animation for the first time.

Leslie grinned sheepishly. "Oh, it's a dumb reason. Don't pay any attention to me. I'm just kind of surprised you didn't go off by yourself either." Michiko simply shrugged, and Leslie hid her disappointment and glanced around. "Let me know when you see some people from the choir, okay?"

Within a moment Michiko indicated a group with a listless gesture, and Leslie towed her over to them, then watched while they surrounded Michiko and exclaimed over how good she looked and how sorry they were about Errico's passing. Then one of them asked, "So what plans have you got now that you're back here for good?"

Michiko twisted her mouth, her eyes skittering away. "I, uh…I don't know yet."

"First she's going to get her house built," Leslie put in.

"Well, yes, that," Michiko allowed, shrugging. "But after that, well…"

"Whatever you do, good luck," someone offered, and Michiko smiled her thanks; the group drifted away, much to Leslie's surprise, and she eyed her friend oddly.

"Are you sure you knew them from choir?" she asked.

Michiko nodded, her prodded-bear mien slowly dissolving as she pondered the question. "They're probably scared off by the fact that I'm a queen, or at least a former queen. The position taught me the true meaning of that cliché It's lonely at the top. Everybody either is intimidated by you or thinks you're stuck-up."

Leslie considered that. "I guess I can see what you mean. Well, there's gotta be somebody around here who doesn't get starstruck at sight of you."

"You must have had some people from your classes who weren't part of our group, but you were still friends with," Michiko said questioningly.

Leslie glanced around them, shaking her head slowly. "Not really. I remember tutoring a girl for a while in senior year, but she was a year behind us." She focused on her friend. "It took me years to figure this out, but I finally came to understand that I knew only our group because I was famous for being 'Mr. Roarke's ward'. I was unapproachable. It's the same reason I never had a date all the way through high school. You remember how it was with your brother and his friends. Boys had enough guts to make fun of me, but they never asked me out."

Michiko made a thoughtful noise. "I guess I can see what you mean. When you didn't have any classes with any of us, what was it like?"

"Quiet. I just did my schoolwork in those classes and that was it. Sometimes I'd get one or two of those boys who picked on me, and that made it harder, but it's not like anyone jumped to my defense or even tried to make a friendly overture. And in the early days, in both eighth grade and ninth, I tried. I had you guys to give me some extra confidence that I could make friends after all, so when we started ninth grade, I tried to strike up some more friendships. It never worked out, so I gave up."

"Because you had the notoriety that came with being Mr. Roarke's ward," Michiko supplied, a quizzical tone in her voice.

"Right. But I didn't know that then. I just thought there must be something wrong with me, or them, or something. Anyway, maybe that's what's happening to you now. They don't feel comfortable around you anymore because of your social position."

"Hm. Well, let's go find the others and see if they had any better luck."

Leslie agreed, hoping Michiko's mellower mood would permanently supplant the one she had arrived in, and soon they came upon Maureen; she was standing on the edge of a threesome who were chatting eagerly about some long-ago memory. Maureen herself was listening in and chuckling, but she wasn't involved in the conversation; she must have seen them coming in her peripheral, for she turned and brightened at sight of them. "Hi!"

The trio she stood beside broke off their reminiscences and looked around; Maureen took quick advantage of the lull. "You guys remember Leslie Hamilton and Michiko Tokita, right? And you two probably remember Katie Greer and Heather Anderson and Kymmie Sunderland." She gestured toward the threesome.

Truthfully, Leslie didn't remember them at all, but she hid it, smiling and nodding. "Nice to see you guys again. How've things been since high school?"

"Not bad," Heather Anderson told her. "We're all married, living in different parts of the country…we've been keeping in touch by e-mail for a few years now and we couldn't wait to get together at this reunion. After all, it's supposed to be a time when you find your old friends and have fun remembering, right?"

"And we were just remembering how much trouble Kymmie had with teachers never getting her name right," added Katie Greer with a giggle.

That was when Leslie remembered "Kymmie with a Y" Sunderland, who had shown up at Myeko's Halloween party in their tenth-grade year wearing a T-shirt that had proclaimed in huge neon-yellow letters, "I AM KYMMIE AND DON'T YOU FORGET IT!" She grinned at the memory. "Do you still have that T-shirt?"

All the others acquired blank looks - not only Maureen and Michiko, but Heather, Katie and even Kymmie. They stared at Leslie, whose smile faded a little with embarrassment; and Kymmie asked in perplexity, "What T-shirt?"

"The one with the big yellow message on the front that told people not to forget your name," Leslie prompted, though she could feel her face flaming and wondered how obvious it was in the fluorescent-lit lunchroom. Their silence stretched, so she added a little desperately, "You wore it to Myeko Sensei's tenth-grade Halloween party."

Katie and Heather shrugged at each other; Kymmie went on staring at Leslie, who was now wishing she had never opened her mouth. But Michiko suddenly laughed, shocking both Maureen and Leslie. They glanced in amazement at each other while Michiko exclaimed, "Oh, I remember that now! It was a bright-red shirt with huge yellow letters on it. Nobody could possibly have missed it. You told a bunch of us a story of a teacher who never remembered how to spell your name and how fed up you were with it."

"Oh yeah, that's right," Maureen blurted. "I thought anyone who missed that message had to be blind."

A pained look crept over Kymmie's face at that point as recognition finally took hold, and she screwed up her nose. "I never got to wear it to school. When I put it on the Monday after Halloween, my mother made me take it off. She must have thrown it out while I was in school that day, because I never saw it again."

"You must've had to put up with that teacher all year," Leslie said with sympathy.

Kymmie snorted. "Yeah, well, stuff happens, I guess. We were talking about a teacher who was always calling me Kerry instead of Kymmie." She tossed Leslie a look. "I'm sure you never had that kind of problem."

"Only because I was the only Leslie in school, I imagine," Leslie ventured.

"The famous Leslie Hamilton," Heather said, arching an eyebrow, and Leslie felt her face heat up again.

Maureen cleared her throat. "Well, it was nice seeing you again, you guys. I think I see somebody else over there that I was hoping to talk to tonight." She gestured with her head. "Come on, let's catch her before she leaves."

Leslie thought she had been bluffing to get them away from their classmates, but in fact Maureen made a beeline for a small group of about half a dozen people standing in a loose knot, chatting gaily and laughing often. She greeted them brightly, and they all turned to see who had hailed them, then visibly stiffened up when they saw who was with her. Maureen, oblivious at first, went on to grasp a woman's shoulder. "Hi, Paula, glad I caught you! How've you been?"

Paula smiled, looking a little uncertain. "Fine, how about you?"

"Pretty good, can't complain. You remember us, right? Maureen Tomai, Leslie Hamilton and Michiko Tokita?"

"Yeah," Paula murmured, and a few reserved nods went around. "Yeah, I do now. Nice to see you again." She flicked a nervous glance at Michiko. "How…uh, how's queenhood treating you?" A nervous laugh rippled through the group.

Michiko reddened, but remained calm, perhaps from her years of being Errico's wife and the necessity of comporting herself a certain way in public. "Oh, that's over now. I'm back home for good. I'll always miss my husband, of course…"

Leslie watched the group exchange glances; no one spoke, but there were a couple of quick nods. "Yeah, I guess," Paula said lamely.

"I bet you'll miss all the traveling and that palace and the money," observed one of the men snidely. Leslie stared at him; Maureen's smile collapsed, and even some of his companions had the grace to blush and reprimand him. He looked startled. "Hey, I was just kidding. Can't you take a joke?"

"Bad taste, Brad," rebuked another man, shaking his head.

"You've done pretty well for yourself too," said another woman after an awkward pause. "Marrying a prince and all."

Leslie hitched a shoulder, unsure what to say to such a thing. Maureen put in, "How about you? I hear you started your own business a few years back."

Conversation began to roll again, in self-conscious starts, but as Maureen, Leslie and Michiko excused themselves and left, they heard the chatter well back up in earnest and looked at one another. "Something weird's going on here," Leslie complained. "Nobody seems to want to talk to us."

"I'll say," Maureen agreed, frowning. "I wonder if the others had any better luck."