The Do-Over(19)
Author: Suzanne Park
I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. Missed messages from Mia.
Have you thought about doing college activities? I’m looking on the Student Life webpage and they have pickleball. YOU MUST DO PICKLEBALL
NO PICKLEBALL
Broomball? Inner tube water polo?
NO and NO
Well think about your options. You’ve been given a second chance. We’re hoping you won’t get a third lol
She added: Give it a good ol’ college try. Har har. Okay I’ll shut up now
I sent her an eyeroll emoji and put my phone away.
Out the classroom window, you could see the grassy central lawn, where dozens of college kids sat in small groups on blankets, eating, lounging, and conducting outdoor seminars, just as students had when I was an undergrad. It was a strange feeling to be back at campus now, seeing firsthand how different college was in some ways, and how entirely unchanged it was in others.
“Hey.” The smooth tenor voice coming from the aisle caused me to freeze. I knew who it was without looking up.
“Oh God,” I accidentally muttered aloud.
“Miss Lee, can you meet with me after class today, if you’re free?”
Chin still tucked and looking down at my backpack, I bobbed my head and avoided direct eye contact, focusing more on steadying my breathing rather than watching Jake whisk himself away.
Inhale. Hold. Long exhale.
Ethan joked, “Hey, teacher’s pet! After you meet with the TA, come by the Commons so we can grab an early lunch with the rest of the group. We’re going to talk about the first group assignment.”
I looked up to see Jake sprinting to the front of the classroom. As he set up the computer and projected the first slide on the pull-down screen, I studied his pensive face, his swift movements, his confident stature while he logged in to the class portal. What did he want to talk to me about, and why had he singled me out the way he did?
Well, I could think of reasons. Like asking me why I was a student in his class.
Why I hadn’t tried to communicate with him after all these years.
Why I had reentered and disrupted his orbit and why he’d come crashing into mine.
You know, just a few off-the-cuff thoughts flooding my brain.
Ethan jumped to his feet, abruptly breaking my Jake-induced trance. His hand shot up, signaling to two people who had just walked through the back doors to join him. After putting his flannel shirt back on, he took his backpack off the neighboring seat.
I asked, “Oooh. Am I about to meet the people you’re willing to strip for?”
He chuckled. “Yes! Finally, you get to meet your group project buds.” He reached out, grabbed the hand of the guy walking toward him, and pulled his friend in for a hug, like he hadn’t seen him in ages. I pictured Jake and me doing this after class and laughed out loud.
“Sorry, was just thinking about something stupid.” Remembering I had to stick with the dumb name I’d given Ethan, I added, “I’m Lil, Ethan’s new friend.”
“I’m Princeton. Princeton Li.” He shook my hand and noted my surprise. “My parents named me after their alma mater. Naming a kid after an Ivy League school to fulfill their own dreams and then getting waitlisted there isn’t all too great for the ol’ self-esteem, I have to admit. And Li is spelled L-I, like Long Island.” He said that last part with an exaggerated New York accent.
“I’m sorry, can we actually go back to the Princeton thing? I’m still needing to process that. That’s on your birth certificate and everything?” I asked.
He laughed at my reaction. “It’s okay, I’m surprisingly fine with it now. I’ve been going by PJ too, because people get all weird about saying Princeton over and over. Either works.”
“What’s the ‘J’ stand for? Johns Hopkins?” I joked.
“Jing actually,” he sassed back. “Thank God it’s not Johns Hopkins . . . I’ll save that for my own children.”
I chuckled. “Your first and last name sounds like a fancy adverb. Princetonly. He handled his numerous social engagements in a princetonly fashion.”
He laughed. PJ was such a good sport.
“I’m Grace.” The girl next to him squeezed my hand and offered a firmer handshake than PJ’s.
Ethan noted, “They’re in ASA with me. And we promise not to keep trying to recruit you, although the more Asians, the merrier.”
PJ groaned at Ethan’s comment, which made me grin.
Grace asked, “Are you a transfer?”
I had toyed with the idea of acting like I’d transferred to Carlthorpe from somewhere else as a viable cover story, but I didn’t want to add any more complexity to my life, seeing as how I had to go by Lil now because I couldn’t think on my feet. How did pathological liars make stuff up so well and stay committed?
“It’s a long story, but I used to go here, and now I’m back.”
PJ said, “Oh, so you transferred out and returned.”
Not at all. But I didn’t want to explain myself. Luckily, I didn’t have to, because while we were chatting, the professor had entered the room.
“Let’s get settled so we can start on time, class!” Doc huffed as he made his way to the podium.
I had to admit, the first CS classes about making code easy to understand were interesting, and I couldn’t wait to learn more. I loved how the professor was such a passionate teacher and gave interesting, real-world examples. Time flew by, and it wasn’t until he checked his watch and said, “Oops, I’ve gone over, sorry about that. Class dismissed!” that I realized the hour-long class had ended. That’s how good of a professor he was.
Ethan packed up quickly. “See you at the Commons, we’ll be in the back corner table working on this week’s problem set. If the TA gives you any tips or cheats, you have to tell us, okay?”
The room dispersed, and I checked how I looked in selfie-mode on my phone before rising to my feet. I’d seen better days, but I looked presentable at least. Trudging toward the door, I thought about how there was no way to avoid my past while taking classes here again, and I knew it had potential to get messy. But Jake Cho as my TA . . . really? This was the universe giving me two middle fingers. One for Jake. One for Cho.