CoffeeBeanShop

Filtered Friends

by Jennifer (bio after article)

The door opened in a defiant burst against the harsh winds churning amongst the snowstorm outside. Wendy stepped inside, her nose brightened to a reddish hue and a look of painful chill on her face. She pushed the door shut while the last of the snowy air struggled into the stunning warmth and stillness of the coffee shop. After quickly scanning the cheerful, comfortable customers, she spotted Jean, cautiously sipping from her mug with a book lying on the table beside her. In response to the unwelcome cold air that had snuck inside, along with her anticipation for Wendy's arrival, she looked up. Wendy smiled awkwardly and walked over.

"Have you been here long?" she asked.

Jean's face remained stiff. "No, not really," she replied. She slid the book into her purse, not wanting it to become the object of ice-breaking conversation. However, the motion of removing the book caught endy's attention.

"What are you reading?"

"Oh, just something for one of my classes, nothing great, really."

This response stalled Wendy and she felt the conversation already failing. She simply said "Oh," in a tone of feigned politeness covering the core of her annoyance. Jean was avoiding eye contact and beginning to wonder if she would be able to tell Wendy what she really wished to say. She tried to talk herself into indifference. Besides, she had already disconnected herself from Wendy; it was Wendy who was not ready to give up on the friendship.

"So, how are your classes, then?" Wendy offered, sitting uncomfortably rigid and still adjusting to the unnatural warmth of the indoors. She pulled off her mittens but left her scarf loosely wrapped around her neck. It was of a bright, knitted variety, greatly contrasting her dark brown coat.

"They're not too bad. Psychology is boring, but I'm in an interesting class on Asian art and religion," Jean answered. She was beginning to soften slightly, now that she saw the effort Wendy was putting into this meeting. "What about you?" she asked back.

"Yeah, my classes are good. Latin is a killer, though."

Jean looked up at Wendy after slowly setting down her mug. There was something vaguely different about her. Same glasses, same hairstyle, but the past few months had changed her in an undistinguishable way. A round, powder blue dot on her jacket caught her attention, but she looked away before she could identify it. While continuing in the superficial detailings of their lives, striving to avoid the main purpose of their meeting yet longing to reach it, Jean made more eye contact, more visual observations, and realized the blue circle was a pin. It read, "I'm a feminist. Are you?" Jean winced slightly. This blatant declaration intensified her irritation with Wendy's elusive personality. Nonetheless, she began to transition the conversation into its main purpose.

"We've definitely all changed a lot…now that we're in college and everything," she said.

This prompt was a great relief to Wendy, who began the inevitable reminiscing back to the last time they had talked: the argument that
permanently damaged their already strained friendship. Jean began to feel uneasy, knowing that soon she would desperately have to try explaining why she no longer wished to struggle through a friendship with Wendy. She figured Wendy deserved some clarification, even though Jean still held resentments towards their past.

The pin on Wendy's jacket seemed to grow larger and larger, emphasizing the one thought running through Jean's mind: "You're a fraud! An insecure chameleon adapting to your environment but never holding a true identity!" So she said, "Well, I guess we just started growing apart last year, and we kept drifting until we didn't really know each other at all anymore."

Wendy seemed to agree but was not satisfied. It was obvious that there was more to the disintegration of their friendship than that. Similarly searching for polite yet clear words, she responded, "It seemed that way to me, too, but…I guess I don't understand why."

Jean was beginning to feel interrogated. She was doing this as a favor to Wendy, she thought, to establish closure in their relationship, but now, panicked, she wondered why she agreed to this meeting when she had no clue how she would handle it. She sighed tiredly. "I just felt like you had no interest in my life. And I grew weary of that. So I began to fade away…to protect myself."

Wendy looked concerned, but it soon morphed into association when she said, "It's funny, because I felt the same way. So since we never communicated about it, we both just kept drifting." Her own realization brought a grin of relief to her face.

Jean, knowing there was a waterfall of annoyances and observations, conclusions and examples, just waiting to pour out, held them all back. Wendy's deduction seemed so weak, so incomplete, but Jean hoped it would hold. She was dreading the truth. "Well, I hope we can get past everything and maybe try again, with a fresh start," Wendy suggested.

Jean hesitated. The words scattered out of her mouth, "Yeah, we could try that."

They talked together for another hour or so, about school mostly and how everything felt different. How they were growing up and tumbling into separate directions. Jean even talked of some of her hopes and realizations over the past few months. However, she kept herself in check, making sure she would not reveal too much, making sure Wendy would not mentally note her ideas and later claim them as her own.

Would she be able to perform in this revived sham of a friendship? How much of her own life could she avoid in conversation? The blue pin was quietly pulsating with intensified color.

It grew very dark outside and most of the other customers had already reentered the outdoor realm of bitter frost. "Well, I should probably get going," Wendy stated. "I have a long drive back to school tomorrow."

"Yeah," Jean answered, checking the weather through the frost-glazed window.

"I'm really glad we talked, though. I'll keep in touch, okay?" Wendy rose from her seat and slipped on her mittens. Jean reached for her purse on the floor while looking up at Wendy. "Why do you do this to yourself?" she silently wondered. "She is her own person, she is not trying to be like you!"

Together the two women walked into the night. The wind had relaxed into a wispy current of flaky snow. "Well, drive carefully," Jean said.

"Okay. Talk to you later."

"Goodbye."

Jean dug into her purse for her keys while Wendy walked to her car. She turned to wave, and Jean could faintly see a light blue circle fading away on Wendy's jacket. She laughed to herself, grabbed the keys, and headed for her car.

Copyright © 2003 + © Jennifer. All Rights Reserved.

About Jennifer

Jennifer is a freshman at Illinois Wesleyan University. She grew up in Schaumburg, Illinois and has always had a passion for writing. She is undecided on a major but hopes to incorporate creative writing in a career.

We hope so, too! Thanks, Jennifer.

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