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The holidays are an odd time of year for me, but I feel as if I’m finally getting it together- the whole “adult” thing, I mean, and from one who counted the years ’til college in seventh grade, it’s about time. I enjoy Christmas and its accompanying sentimentality, and some of my fondest memories have already been made this month as my darling Caitlin and I trim our very own Christmas tree. But the oddities always seem to arrive about now in the form of contact with obscure friends of friends from weird corners of my small-town past. I got a call yesterday from an old acquaintance from high school- a Jenna-something that may or may not have been in my senior year AP English class who had heard I was doing well in the city and wanted to meet for coffee.

Okay…

I figured I had nothing to lose, and it had been awhile since I’d had a quality high school reminiscence/rant. So I agreed, and we arranged to get together at a Starbucks and see what came of it. Here’s where I interject the obligatory lesbian introspection section- I don’t hide my sexuality, but if you don’t really know me you’d never guess and I don’t make a point of updating the aforementioned corners of my small-town past. To me it’s like a part of a need-to-know profile: What’s your major? What’s your cat’s name? What’s your sexual orientation? Political science, Hal, and happily gay, respectively. Thanks so much for inquiring. I’m me and I work it and that’s really all one can expect, but often without realizing it, I’ll prep a defensive response when meeting (or, as the case may be, reuniting) with someone. Which is what I did this morning- gathering stories of my fantastic girlfriend and fascinating job to play the compensation game if need be. I wasn’t in the mood to be judged by someone with so little personal connections to me.

I arrived at the corner coffee shop a few minutes late, but recognized my contact immediately. I still couldn’t put my finger on the AP English class answer, but knew her from the drama club and various multi-social-circle parties. We were both popular, but she partied more than I did and I vaguely recalled envying her curfew. And then I remembered her snootiness. What had I gotten into?

“Breeeee! Oh my God!” she screeched, encircling my bulky scarf in a hug. “You look great!”

I didn’t think I’d changed much.

“Hey, Jen.” I answered. Small talk ensued. Apparently she was living just north of the city with her boyfriend, working as an intern for an ad agency and “partying it up”. Interesting. Then came the inevitable:

“So are you dating anyone?”

I paused, weighing my options and pondering the benefits of the twenty thousand lies floating around in my head.

“Yes, actually. A gorgeous girl named Caitlin. We’re actually rooming together in a wonderful apartment.” I was set to memorize every tiny reaction. Set to defend myself. Set to spill my coffee, run, snatch the newspaper of the guy sitting behind me. Anything to avoid conflict about something I thought I’d secured years ago.

“You’re…you’re dating a woman…?” She stared for a moment, in what state of mind, I wasn’t sure.

“Yes, and-”

“No, hun, it’s okay.” She answered. “You’re so happy and involved and I…” she faltered, taking a moment to examine the contents of her purse. “Bree, I never would have believed it, but I wish I had your life.” I wasn’t sure whether or not I should be offended. “Bree, I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?” I grasped my cup harder now, my turn to scrutinize.

“Steve and I…I…we broke up. I had to move out. But I’m pregnant. And I don’t know how to tell my parents. ”

Time slowed at that point, the warm synthetic air of the heater choking my ability to process information.

She continued, “My job is…I don’t have a lot of money. My parents will make me get an abortion, I know it, and they’ll never speak to me again, God, Bree, I just didn’t know who to talk to. This is just crazy.”

And it was. Two former rivals camped out in what had to be the most dramatic meeting that damn little Starbucks had ever seen. My heart went out to her then, though. There was an uncertainty and fear behind her eyes that were all too familiar. I cringed at the thought of letting such a thing go.

“Hey Jen, do you want to stop by my place?” I offered. “We can see if we can sort some of this stuff out. And hey, Cait’ll be home soon and maybe we can all grab dinner. Do you have to be back somewhere at some time?”

She blotted her eyes with a napkin and gathered her things. “That sounds perfect.”

***

If you told me yesterday that today I’d be sharing stir-fry with Jenna-from-high-school, I would have laughed you from here to my podunk past. But there we were. You know, I honestly can’t be sure why she’d chosen me to call. But I suppose it proves that there are unseen trepidations in everyone. And that everyone is in need of a friend around the holidays.

by Bree