The Do-Over(33)
Author: Suzanne Park

 

“Wait.” Jake grabbed my arm. Electricity coursed throughout my body as his hand made contact. His touch was familiar, but also felt different, with a new firmness to it. As my eyes adjusted to a shadowy nightfall, I could see Jake stepping closer to me.

 

“So, you didn’t graduate?”

 

Although I didn’t owe him any answers, I did feel bad for misleading him before, especially since he’d been offering reconciliatory gestures over the last week. Now he knew why I was back on campus. I bowed my head and nodded.

 

“Who cares if you didn’t get your degree? Plenty of people don’t finish college and do just fine. Plus, you’re an author now and have a consulting business. Who gives a shit, especially now?”

 

My shoulders slumped. “Well, I give a shit. I’m taking my STEM requirement for my degree, which is new by the way, and I’m auditing a stats class hoping to be let in eventually, and taking one other class elective just in case, to fulfill the rest of the coursework to complete my degree for real this time.”

 

“You’re being too hard on yourself.” The softness in his voice relaxed me. “I respect you so much for doing this though. And I’m glad you’re back. And they are too.” He pointed at the window, where his pets stared down at us.

 

I smiled. “Thanks, Jake.”

 

His hands hovered near my shoulders, like he was deciding whether it was okay to hug me. At that moment, I wanted to feel his touch again, to let him rest his strong hands on me and stroke my skin with his thumbs, like he did when we were together, just to see if the intimacy we shared all those years ago had any staying power.

 

Here, in the darkness, Jake and I had bent and twisted the principles of time to bring us back to our past selves, with the two of us alone, exploring each other. Even though it was hard to see, I tried to fix my gaze on his face and study it. I knew Jake so intimately back then. The angles of his face. The slight dimpling of his chin. The texture of his thick hair. Had so much time passed that we were basically strangers again?

 

I placed my hands on his chest, but then I wobbled and stumbled back a few steps, dragging him along with me as I clutched his shirt, bumping my backside into the driver’s-side door of the black Mazda SUV parked in his driveway. Being pinned against a car by a hot guy on a beautiful night was never something I thought would actually happen to me, but here we were.

 

He whispered, “Lily.”

 

Then, “Please don’t go.”

 

Those three words sent me free-falling backward to over a decade earlier, teleporting me to a specific place, date, and time: the last moment I saw him, on the main walkway of campus, people swishing by and going about their day while we somehow moved in slow motion.

 

But it was me, not him, uttering the words “Please don’t go.”

 

Urging. Imploring. Pleading.

 

Please. Don’t. Go.

 

Squeezing my eyes shut tight brought me spiraling back to the present. I peered through my lashes at Jake, who had chosen to leave me all those years ago. I remember how he looked that day: his skin flushed, his breathing rapid, unable to look me in the eyes. A typical physiological reaction to stress. And when he had to make a game-time decision, he went into fight-or-flight mode.

 

And he fled.

 

My gaze fell to the ground. Dropping my hands to my sides, I flicked my eyes over to the street. “I . . . I better go. This isn’t a good idea.” I added, “We can’t do this again.” I wasn’t just referring to the present situation. I was taking into account our entire history together, because our past did, in fact, matter.

 

After I left Carlthorpe, it took years to fully overhaul my emotional well-being. It was a complete rebuild after being taken down to the bare studs. Was being with Jake now worth risking all of this progress? Because now that I was in my thirties, and aside from the whole setback of going back to college, I had rediscovered happiness. Was I better off in his company? Or was being self-partnered the best thing for me right now? Could I grow and flourish around him like I did on my own?

 

Maybe I wasn’t emotionally equipped enough to get rejected all over again. Break my heart once, shame on you. Break my heart twice, well, I have only myself to blame, right? How could I possibly offer him my heart a second time . . . I was disillusioned to think he would choose me over everything else. It wasn’t in his nature.

 

No. I wasn’t brave enough for any of that. And adding the complication of Jake being my TA, any sort of relationship between us would be unprofessional and forbidden. What needed to happen next was clear.

 

I took a large step away from Jake. “I’m going to head home now.”

 

The floodlights flicked back on, temporarily disorienting me and blinding both of us.

 

When my sight was restored, I could see Jake looking at me with regretful, soulful eyes. “Wait, I have my priorities straight now. Lately I’ve been—”

 

I cut him off. “I need to go. Goodbye, Jake.” I turned my back to him and walked to the street.

 

He sighed. “Bye . . . Lily.”

 

We bid our sad farewells again, like we had all those years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

The knocking on my bedroom door grew louder and more impatient.

 

“Come in,” I mumbled into my pillow.

 

It was Beth, wearing flannel pajamas with pink fluffy sheep on them. With her wide blue eyes and golden hair split into two long braids, she looked like she was twelve. “I was worried about you. Brought you warm milk and cookies.” She paused and added, “I could hear you sniffling and I don’t remember you being sick earlier.”

 

My room was dark—a good thing because ugly crying in your thirties was exponentially uglier than in your twenties. Nowadays when I had a good emotional sobfest, my cheeks turned blotchy and my eyes swelled, like I’d been stung in the face by an angry swarm of bees. At my age, the subsequent de-puffing process took a full day.

 

She placed the plate and glass on my dresser, then plopped down on the foot of the bed. “You missed a fun party. Mia and PJ hit it off and were karaokeing by the end of the night. Ethan was wondering where you went.”

 

When I didn’t reply, she changed the subject. “Mia told me a little more about why you’re back at Carlthorpe. I know this is incredibly cheesy, but I’m so glad you came back, because I’m having a better time my senior year because of you. I transferred in a couple years ago with a long-distance boyfriend and I’m pretty sure we’re getting engaged after college, so I’ve been pretty nose-down in studying and not appreciating the social parts of college. You’ve already had a big impact on someone’s life who hasn’t actually read your book . . . yet. So chin up, lady! Time to take a big ol’ bite out of a truth cookie—what you’re going through isn’t permanent, and even though it might feel like you lost something when you came here a second time, you’ve gained a loyal friend. And as a bonus, you get free, unlimited baked goods as long as you’re under this roof! Some people might even be envious of that.”