The Do-Over(20)
Author: Suzanne Park

 

He was waiting for me right outside the auditorium.

 

To my surprise, he offered a wide smile when we made eye contact. Like, the corners of his mouth pulled up to his sparkling eyes, making my heart squeeze a little.

 

“My God, it really is you,” he breathed.

 

“Yeah.” My cheeks surged with heat from both anger and embarrassment.

 

We stood still, not knowing how to physically greet each other. A handshake would be awkward between two people who had seen each other naked. No hug—it would be too familiar and intimate.

 

And that left nothing, so we did that. Nothing. It was a huge relief.

 

He said, “I have so many questions. Wanna walk next door to the Commons and grab a coffee?”

 

“That seems fine,” I answered. Our walking strides started out at different paces but after a few seconds he walked in sync with me.

 

Jake held open the door to the café. “I noticed your name when the class roster was published, but I never in a million years thought it would actually be you. I assumed it was another Lily Lee, but then I saw you with my own eyes.” He gulped. “So . . . you’re back at Carlthorpe? Is this for a new book project or something for your series?”

 

Wow, he’d revealed so much in just a few sentences. He’d kept track of me and my career this whole time?

 

I paused before passing through the entryway. What was the point in chitchatting like this? Surely this was as painful for him as it was for me. Why not be like two coworkers who accidentally hooked up at a holiday party and then had to see each other at work the next day? Let’s not do this, Jake.

 

“It’s a really long story. You might need to cancel classes for the week to hear the abridged version,” I replied.

 

He smiled. “I have time.” He got himself a black coffee and added a packet of sugar. “You still drink that coffee-flavored chocolate milk?”

 

He still remembered?

 

“I like my coffee that way.” It was how I coped with not having two Cokes every day in college, and I never shook the habit.

 

Jake smirked. “It’s very gross and endearing, which makes it memorable.”

 

I couldn’t resist a little dig. “And I see you’re still keeping up with the latest shorts fashion?”

 

He stuck his right foot out. “This pair I’m wearing was on sale at REI. It has so many pockets that I lose everything in them.”

 

“It’s like the game Memory? Always opening and closing all the pockets?”

 

“Exactly.” When the conversation drifted to awkward silence, he asked again, “So . . . you’re here . . . because?”

 

I stared at the menu on the wall and took a while to order my drink. It gave me time to think about my answer. It’s none of your business, I wanted to say, but the truth was, it was his business once I landed on his class roster. But until I could switch out of his CS course and into another STEM class, I was stuck with Jake as my TA. My goal at the moment was to end this conversation as soon as possible without seeming rude, and never talk to him again. And ideally also score a free iced coffee if I played this right.

 

The barista called out “Lila!” before I could respond to Jake. She placed my iced coffee on the counter. I took it and walked to the checkout line.

 

“Let me get it,” he said, fumbling for his wallet for a few seconds too long.

 

“It’s okay, I’ll pay.”

 

The clerk keyed in the codes for our drinks and I swiped my temporary ID.

 

BUZZ.

 

A giant X appeared on the card swiper. I swiped again, and was denied a second time.

 

She swiveled the monitor so I could see why the ID was rejected. “Photo expired.” Pointing to the image on the screen, she commented, “You need to get another ID picture at the registrar.”

 

Jake looked over my shoulder. “Oh wow, that’s from over ten years ago.”

 

It was a color photo from my senior year, when I had thick bangs, a smattering of forehead acne from said thick bangs, and a pre-Invisalign smile. At least I looked happy. Like someone who didn’t know she would have to repeat college.

 

I couldn’t even play this off. I was mortified, and I had no cash on hand.

 

Jake skirted around me and, with one quick move, swiped his card, and shoved his ID in his pocket. The monitor flashed with his TA credentials and a gorgeous photo of Jake 2.0 appeared. Strong jaw. Mischievous, borderline naughty smile. And God, that hair.

 

He grabbed both of our drinks before I could say anything. I followed him as the checkout clerk called out to me, “Don’t forget to get a new picture, or this will keep happening to you.”

 

Trust me, lady, I’m getting this fixed right away. The last thing I needed was my senior year cherub, pimply face haunting me every time I used my dining points.

 

“Don’t feel bad. When I became a PhD student, they used my old undergrad photo for a while. Apparently the ID picture expires after a certain number of years, like a driver’s license or passport. Needless to say, my picture wasn’t nearly as flattering as yours.” He was saying this to be nice, because he was not only cute in college, like he was now, but he was also one of those insanely photogenic people. He had angular features that weren’t too sharp. Unlike me, where over time, my baby face had not only disappeared, but my jawline also never appeared. I had thought for so many years that when the baby fat on my cheeks melted away, my chin and jawline would reveal themselves. Ta-da! Well, no such luck.

 

Jake found a bistro table with two chairs situated near the front window. “Do you have time to sit? Only for five minutes, I know you’re busy with your book stuff.” For him to think I was here for research was certainly better than me explaining my actual situation, so I left it alone and didn’t correct him.

 

To avoid staring into Jake’s eyes, I took in the Commons surroundings as I drank my caffeinated chocolate milk. The Carlthorpe Commons was new, meaning it had been built over the last ten years, like the CS building. “This wasn’t always here, right? What did it replace?”

 

“Yeah, it’s newish. It replaced the old student center, remember that brick building that looked like a prison? This new complex is so much nicer: it’s where most of the clubs meet now. You can book rooms using an online reservation system and there’s plenty of space.” I glanced at him while he took a long sip. His proximity sent chills down my spine, which I wasn’t expecting at all after so many years. Meetings like this needed to be avoided at all costs.