(c) copyright December 2003, Kay Wilde

Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind. Yeah right. Easier said than done.

The embossed invitation to her class reunion should have hit the trash can the moment she received it. Not only had she not tossed it, she'd actually brought the damn thing with her to New York City. Even more amazing, she was tempted to attend. Tempted to show the popular in crowd from her old high school that plain Jane Smith had become someone worth recognizing.

Jane wanted to believe she was a better person than that. That painful, confidence-destroying part of her life was over, finished. She'd moved on, leaving plain Jane, the invisible, non-person well behind her. Jane wanted to believe that to be the case--deep down she knew better.

Old hurts and slights died hard. Despite her success, the magnitude of which she still found impossible to comprehend, inside she was still plain Jane Smith, the non-person from the wrong side of the tracks. Was the embossed invitation in her hand a cruel reminder of who she was, who she would always be? Or was it her opportunity to banish plain Jane once and for all?

Playing out on the television screen in her hotel room at the famed Waldorf Astoria, a crush of humanity gathered in Times Square waiting for the countdown and the descent of the glittering ball which marked the end of the old year and the beginning of the new.

Rising from the satin covered bed where she'd been sitting Indian fashion surrounded by a mound of cream colored, satin pillows, Jane walked to the oak framed, full length mirror.

The red and gray plaid flannel nightgown she wore, the same gown that had been loose even when she was sixty-five pounds heavier, effectively concealed the finely sculptured curves beneath. Except for the weight loss, Jane couldn't deny that she had done little to alter her plain Jane image.

Reaching for her glasses on the bedside table, she glanced at the clock displayed at the lower right-hand corner of the television screen which counted down the minutes. Turning back to her reflection, Jane was determined to be brutally honest with herself as she assessed her own attributes.

Her complexion, which thankfully hadn't plagued her with an unsightly outbreak of pimples in years, was now smooth and clear. Always considering her hair to be her one good feature, Jane released the confining clip at the nape of her neck. While some might call her waist length hair a mousy brown, it was thick and shimmered with good health. Taking a deep breath, Jane then did something she'd never done before. She released the buttons at the neckline of her nightgown, allowed it to slide from her shoulders, down her arms and hips until it puddled at the feet. She then critically appraised her own nude body.

"Not bad," she admitted, sounding almost surprised. "Actually, pretty darn good." After leaving her hometown, it had taken her three years to write Silver Lining, the novel which had changed her life. Three years of working two jobs just to make ends meet, and writing during what free time she could squeeze into her days and nights. In high school she'd used junk food as a panacea to make her feel better, which in the end made her feel even worse when she continued to gain weight. On her own, money for food was tight and junk food a luxury she couldn't afford. She was often so immersed in her writing she forgot to eat all together. The excess pounds and inches had slowly melted away without Jane even realizing it.

Reaching for the invitation she'd laid upon the chest of drawers next to the mirror, Jane reread the information before her eyes returned to the mirror. She felt as if the woman with the killer body gazing back at her was someone totally separate from herself.

"You have to face and conquer the past before you can let it go and move on to the future that's opened up for you," the woman in the mirror insisted.

Jane pulled the huge flannel gown back up. Leaving the buttons at the neckline unfastened, she returned to the bed.

On the television the mob scene in Times Square grew loud and rowdy as the ball started to descend and the countdown to the New Year began.

Vowing this would be the last New Year's Eve she would spend alone, while the rest of the world was out there enjoying life, Jane reached over and poured herself a solitary glass of champagne from the small, complimentary bottle supplied by the hotel.

"Five ... Four ... Three ... Two ... One ... Happy New Year!!!"

Having no one with which to share the toast, Jane held her glass toward the excited, kissing and hugging revelers on the screen as the strains of Auld Lang Syne drowned out the sounds of their cheers.

For Auld Lang Syne--meaning, for old long since, Jane interpreted. Days long gone, best forgot and never brought to mind. Let go of the past and move on with the future. This was exactly what Jane intended to do by following the advice from the lady in the mirror--face and conquer the past.

Jane picked up the yellow legal pad upon which she'd been jotting down notes and ideas for her next book. Turning to a blank page, she picked up her pen and began to write.

New Year's Resolutions:

I. Make over plain Jane

(a) Attend reunion

(b) Seduce Ryan Shipman

(c) Lose virginity

II. Get a real life.