The Do-Over(55)
Author: Suzanne Park

 

My suitemate Gloria was applying for a semester abroad in Japan. She had studied Japanese in high school and took it in college too, so it made a ton of sense for her to go. “I took two years of Spanish, but it’s not nearly enough to justify spending a semester abroad.”

 

He whispered into my ear, “You don’t need to study a language to go abroad. Carlthorpe just added a robust network of universities overseas that conduct classes in English. You could go somewhere like Australia.”

 

“Really?” I had looked into study abroad but ruled it out mostly because of the language barrier. When I didn’t take advanced Spanish courses my third year of college, I let go of my dream to study overseas.

 

I rolled over to my nightstand and looked up the exchange program website on my phone. “Oh shit, there are like twenty schools that offer classes I could take, including Spain. And many of them would actually count toward my major! There’s an informational session next week. Applications are due end of month to be eligible next fall.” Studying abroad my senior year first semester would have its social and academic pros and cons, but to hell with it. What if I could go to Spain? Or Hong Kong? Or Australia?

 

Jake crept over to my side of the bed and put his hand on my shoulder. “Maybe we could apply to the same places. And if we both got in? It would be cool. And romantic.”

 

I shot him a hopeful smile. “What would you do with all of your side businesses, and all the activities and organizations counting on you for leadership next year?” It was a slight dig at Jake for stretching himself too thin, which I regretted once the words came out of my mouth. But the truth was that Jake always seemed to be going a gajillion miles a minute. He hardly slept. And I’d noticed he was flaking out on others who counted on him when he spent time with me. It sometimes left me wondering if I would be next.

 

“I’ll make it work somehow. I always manage. Plus, you’re my girlfriend, so you get first priority.”

 

“Girlfriend?” I murmured. He’d never said that word out loud before. Neither of us was seeing other people, but I’d assumed that was because he was too busy to date anyone else.

 

He took the phone from my hand and placed it back on the table. Then he kissed me. “Yes. Girlfriend.” He kissed my cheek. “You’re.” My neck. “My.” Left breast. “Girlfriend.” Right breast.

 

“What special privileges does a girlfriend have after graduating from friend with benefits?” I asked coyly. “Will we go to dinner together?”

 

He laughed. “We already do that. I always sit next to you in the dining hall.”

 

I raised an eyebrow. “That doesn’t count. I mean more off-campus stuff.”

 

Jake grinned. “Yes. Dates. Movies. And maybe the most important of all—”

 

He showed me his phone. I was listed as one of his “favorites” contacts. It was such a funny gesture, but for a guy who knew, like, a bazillion people, it was a big deal to make it into his top ten. “If you text me, I’ll reply right away. Unless I’m sleeping, out of cell range, or maimed in a hospital. That’s how much I care about you.”

 

Rolling on top of him, I swept my long hair to my back. “And you’ll always answer my calls if you’re not indisposed? You know I don’t like calling anyone, so if I do ring you, it’s probably important.”

 

He nodded and held his hand up. “I care about you so much that I solemnly swear to answer your calls, especially because I know you hate being on the phone.”

 

I offered him a light peck on the lips. “One more thing. You think we could do this boyfriend-girlfriend thing in Spain maybe?”

 

“Or South Africa.” Jake kissed my lips softly. “Or Scotland.”

 

My lips pressed his again. “New Zealand maybe?”

 

His hands traveled down to my hips. “Wherever you go, I’ll follow.”

 

I yanked the plush comforter over our heads so it fully enveloped our bodies. Jake pulled me down on top of him and we molded into the contours of each other’s bodies, with plenty of heat flowing between us to keep us warm.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Eight

 

 

Partying in your thirties was no joke. In my mid-twenties, I could go out on a weeknight and drink to the point of blacking out, then be ready to go for a 9 A.M. conference call. Now? My thirty-two-year-old tongue was coated in sandpaper, my head pounded so hard my brain throbbed, and my eyes could barely open because all the moisture from my tear ducts had been redirected to other critical parts of my body so they could function.

 

I grabbed a bottle of water on my nightstand and chugged the entire thing.

 

“That was mine,” Mia groaned. She was sleeping on the recliner in the corner of the room. Her arm was draped over her eyes to block the sunlight streaming through the window.

 

“Can you get water in the kitchen?” I croaked.

 

“Can’t move. Might hurl.”

 

I’d had one fewer drink than Mia because after three consecutive shots, I was on the brink of going to a bad, vomitous place. But she was always one to go for broke, even if it meant suffering the dire consequences a few hours later.

 

Sliding my feet into fuzzy slippers, I shuffled to the kitchen and brought back two large glasses of water and a bottle of Tylenol.

 

It took a while for Mia to sit up. “Mental note . . . cake and vodka shots should be consumed in moderation.” She took two pills and chased them with desperate gulps of water. “You know, it’s a shame we can’t talk about Solv on social media. If you get the internship, which I hope you will, we’ll need to figure out how to share the news.”

 

Her phone dinged on the dresser. She moaned and glared at it.

 

It dinged again.

 

And again.

 

Snatching Mia’s iPhone, I tossed it into her lap. “Can you at least turn down the volume? My brain can’t take the noise right now. Especially loud ones that ring and echo in your head. I have to head to class now while you enjoy your restorative beauty sleep.”

 

“Just hearing that you have class right now makes me feel like puking.” She fell back onto the chair and moaned.

 

After a quick wardrobe change and a few pats of powder, I grabbed my backpack and ran out the door. The Global Audience and Influencer Culture class topic of the day was reputation management and cancel culture, and I couldn’t wait to go. It would be in full attendance, so I got there early to get a good seat, right in the front row.