The Do-Over(49)
Author: Suzanne Park
Mia handed me a gift bag once I took a seat at the table. “Beth and I never agree on shirt slogans, but this is one we both liked.”
It was a black fitted ladies T-shirt with the words HOT GIRLS CODE in white letters. I put it on over my long-sleeve waffle Henley and modeled it for them, twirling and then stumbling, losing my balance.
Beth, who rarely said anything mean, petty, or catty, mumbled into her wineglass, “Clumsy girls code too, I guess,” and we all laughed.
I tried the beef short ribs first. “Mia! They’re so tender.”
She smiled. “Right? It took a while but they finally got to that falling-off-the-bone texture.”
Beth disappeared into the kitchen a few minutes later. I thought she’d gone to get seconds, but she came out with a shiny, chocolatey square cake and put it down in the center of the table.
“It’s too pretty to eat,” I said. “The ganache came out perfect.”
She beamed. “I have some good news too. Not as exciting as acing CS and stats exams, but I have some job interviews lined up, in case I don’t get into grad school. Two consulting, one paralegal, and one nonprofit.”
“Congratulations!” Mia and I cheered in unison.
I’d nearly forgotten what it was like to be a senior who wasn’t on a premed, pre-law, or academia track. None of my friends my senior year had known what job they wanted after college, especially those like me who had a hard time choosing a major. Some people glamorize the transition from college and adulthood, like it’s a milestone where people can’t wait to rip their training wheels off and go riding on their own. Yes, adulthood can be a beautiful thing. But for some people, it’s less about choices and more about circumstances. They settle. They take the only job they were offered. They take a less exciting job because the coveted positions were too competitive or the pay and benefits were worse. Sometimes the training wheels accidentally pop off too early and the person pedaling can’t break or steer straight. Cars honk. People yell. And the bike ends up in a ditch.
The whiff of fragrant hazelnut cream brought my wandering mind back into focus. Beth had cut a few slices of cake and placed the corner piece in front of me.
Mia moaned, “Oh my God, this cake is better than sex.”
I was going to say, “Way to ruin it for me, Mia,” but was it really ruining anything with a comment like that? I loaded the tip of my fork with fluffy hazelnut and chocolate goodness, then opened my mouth and took a bite.
Wow. “Mia’s right. This is maybe even better than my midterm news,” I marveled.
Beth’s eyes rounded when she took a bite. “This is my best attempt yet. Go me!”
After we finished our desserts, I asked, “Do either of you think there’s any downside to applying for the internship at Solv? The professor sent me a link to set up the phone screen for a recruiter!”
Mia took a swig of wine. “What does Jakey say?”
“I haven’t talked to him for a while.”
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at me. “Hmmmmm. He would be the perfect one to ask.”
I nodded. “He would be, but I don’t want any special treatment now that he’s my TA again.” No need to cause more messiness between us. Once I’d discovered that he’d gotten back with his high school sweetheart, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was keeping me around on the sidelines as someone he could date until someone better came around.
Mia said, “I texted with him. He was polite but super short. Maybe he’s moved on to something else.”
Or someone else. Like his re-ex girlfriend. I sipped the remaining wine from my glass. Maybe it was time to move past this, to finally close the book on the Jake and Lily saga. For both of our sakes.
Beth said, “Well, I think you should interview. There’s no harm in trying something new. Maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Mia tipped her glass at me. “Your peppy roommate makes a good point. I heard this quote the other day: ‘The most difficult decisions are those that shape your future.’”
I nodded. “That’s true. Where’d you get that from?”
“A Panda Express fortune cookie. But it’s relevant. If you got the job, I hear they have really good free lunch offerings at Solv.”
I’d made worse decisions for reasons dumber than free lunch. “Great! I’ll apply tomorrow, when I’m not drunk.”
Mia laughed. “You always were my smart friend.” She stood from her chair and brought over another bottle of wine. “We’re switching to Pinot. I like it better and it’s a screw-top.” Within seconds, we all had full wineglasses again, and we migrated over to the TV to unpause the serial-killer show.
Great food. Caring friends. Interesting conversation. And murder documentaries.
What more could I want in life?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Loud knocking at the door interrupted my slow, painstaking process of editing my cover letter for the Solv Technologies internship.
In popped Beth’s head. “Do you have a swimsuit I can borrow? I’ll wash it and give it back today.”
I arched an eyebrow. “You’re going swimming in November? It’s freezing outside.”
“It’s not like I want to go swimming now.” She pulled her hair into a tight ponytail. “It’s one of the open days for the swim test at the fitness center.”
My stomach lurched and all that wine from the previous night threatened to pay a visit. “What swim test?”
“Are you serious? It’s the one we need to pass to graduate.”
I furiously typed search word combinations of “swim test,” “Carlthorpe,” and “graduation requirement,” and sure enough, online articles from the campus paper and student handbook came up as search results. Seniors needed to pass a swim test to graduate or waive out of it by taking an introductory swim class for the PE requirement. The old swim test requirement was abolished at the turn of the century, but after the school recently received a large conditional endowment, they reinstituted it a few years after I left Carlthorpe.
I folded my arms on my keyboard and pressed my forehead into them. “Oh God, why me? I can’t swim.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Like you can’t swim at all? Or do you mean it like, ‘Oh God, I haven’t swum in, like, five years’?”