The Do-Over(21)
Author: Suzanne Park
One minute had passed. Just four more to go. Then it was adios, Jake.
He fidgeted with the coffee cup sleeve and stared intensely at the QR code on his drink. “I don’t even know where to start, I actually rehearsed this last night and this morning, in case you said yes to meeting with me.” He took a deep breath in and then spoke really fast. “I’m sorry about how we left things. How I left things. It’s been over a decade and I . . . I’m just hoping that you can find a way to forgive me. And I know an iced coffee doesn’t cut it, but it’s a start, and I’m prepared to grovel and apologize and do whatever I can to get you to not hate me.”
My fingers tingled, then went numb. I had no idea how to respond to this unexpected apology. My brain went blank and I couldn’t think of anything to say. How was I supposed to answer after so many years of ignoring his calls and emails?
“J-just know that I’ve had a lot of time to think about everything between us and I feel like a total asshole. So if you can’t find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d love to be able to have a cordial TA and student relationship. Again, I know that’s a lot to ask. I’m rambling. I’m sorry.”
The long, weighty pause that followed made me feel like my next words should really count.
“Okay.”
“Okay, meaning . . . you’re okay with forgiving me? Or okay to being genial this semester?”
“I don’t know,” I mumbled. This was a lot to take in, and he finally took notice.
“I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. But thanks, Lily, for letting me speak my piece. I know I just sprung a lot on you.” He offered an apologetic smile. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well. After graduation I was so lost. I actually became an Uber driver using my friend’s mom’s minivan, if you can believe it.”
His changing the subject was a relief. I let out a long breath while he continued. “For a while I made decent money too, but it got weird when people booked me to drop off large courier deliveries around town. At one point I was pretty sure I was transporting human organs or something, because the customer kept texting me and checking the whereabouts of the time-sensitive delivery of an Igloo container. That’s when I decided to get a more stable job in data mining and data science.”
“That’s quite a jump, from organ delivery to data analysis. It’s a hot field though,” I noted. “Data analysis, not the organ transportation. How’d you even do that?”
“I started out at the bottom. First for a small start-up company, which used AI predictive language to help dudes write breakup letters or texts to their girlfriends so they would sound more loving and heartfelt. I wish I were joking.”
My jaw fell. I didn’t want to be interested in his past, but I couldn’t help being intrigued by this. “That’s despicable . . . but fascinating. So, like, a guy would pay for a service to help them craft these letters so they weren’t so asshole-y?”
He nodded. “I worked on the apologetic language autocompletion. It’s not my proudest professional moment. Breaking up that way would be shitty.”
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. Speaking of that, are we really talking about breakups right now?
My face must’ve read murderous because he changed the subject again. “After a few months I moved on to a junior data analyst role at a mattress company.”
“Customer data? Or product data?”
His eyes widened. “I didn’t expect you to be such a numbers nerd. Usually when I say I worked at a mattress company people make sleeping and snoring jokes.”
I shrugged. “I’m a well-rounded nerd, thank you very much, I’m both a qualitative and quant type. And I always love bed talk.”
As soon as I said it, I blushed.
Jake’s cheeks reddened but he didn’t look away. His dark brown eyes glinted as he smirked at my comment.
I cleared my throat. “So anyway, a mattress company. I would say tell me more about the business, but you’re right, that actually sounds boring.”
He leaned forward. “Well, hear me out. All of their mattresses were custom and used smart technology. So you could set preferences on firmness, base positions, temperature controls, you name it.”
“That still sounds boring.”
His eyes twinkled as he leaned forward, signaling there was more to come. “I knew everything about the customer. Sleeping habits, duration of rest, and even when they were having sex.”
I nearly spat out my coffee. “You mean, how many times?”
He cocked his head. “Yes. And think about the type of data a mattress company could collect other than frequency.”
“Duration?”
He raised a suggestive eyebrow.
“Um . . . vigor?”
His mouth pressed tight. “I shot up the ranks at that company because I was the best sex analyst around.”
From the first moment I laid my eyes on Jake, long ago when we both grabbed a bag of cuttlefish chips at an ASA meeting, I’d been attracted to him. He was charming and boyishly handsome, and knew how to make me laugh, which was by far one of the most attractive features in a man. But as soon as he said “sex analyst,” something inside me flicked the “on” switch, and just like that, he almost reeled me back in.
No, Lily. No.
He continued. “I learned a lot about security and privacy then, which is why I never put anything on the internet.”
Well, this explained why he was essentially a ghost online.
“That’s where I learned SQL and taught myself how to code. But I learned in an unstructured environment, where I had to do everything myself. I was good at what I did, but it was all homegrown. I knew that with proper instruction and guidance, I could do so much more.”
“You want to dream big and be the best sex analyst in the universe,” I said dryly, managing to keep a straight face.
He put the lid back on his drink. “Something like that. I’m good at it! I want to be the very best, and I want to teach the next generation of sex analysts.”
I hated to admit it, but it felt good to joke around like in the old days. And for a fleeting moment, I’d forgotten why we’d broken up in the first place. Forgotten why I hadn’t contacted him for all these years. But then I remembered he was my TA, and scooted back farther into my seat.