If this were a movie, this is the part where the guy and the girl go their separate ways. Perhaps, after the girl leaves hishouse, rather dramatically, and peels out of the driveway, almost hitting a lone jogger, she stays in bed the rest of the week eating ice cream, hanging with her girlfriends, crying about a boy. The scene cuts and the guy is moping around, but he’s not all that hurt. In fact, his friends drag him out to a bar and convince him to lie under the next chick because there’splenty of fish in the fucking seaand all.
But Jahlani knows this isn’t a movie. It’s so much worse.
It’s real life.
And if she’s learned anything from her twenty-six years of life, it’s that real life is punishing. It doesn’t care if you’re heartbroken. Even less when you’re the cause of said heartbreak.
And so, she’s not all that surprised when she receives an email two days later from the university, reminding her that she volunteered for commencement that weekend.
So, she scrubs her face with a ferocity she didn’t think she was capable of, applies some lipliner before deciding to wipe it off.
When she checks in, she’s ushered behind the stage, and is told she’ll be handing name cards to the reader. At this, her stomach shakes.
Now, there’s definitely no avoiding him.
“Jahlani.”
Her head snaps up, and she meets Professor Jackson’s somber stare.
“Professor Jackson? What are you doing here?”
He moves to stand next to her, placing his hands in his pockets. “I always work commencement. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“I signed up a while ago.”
He nods. “I see. What are your plans after graduation?”
Jahlani balks at how much he’s talking and stammers out a response.
“Oh. Um, I’m … moving to California.”
His eyebrows pinch together. “California?”
She nods, her mouth drying. “Yeah. I didn’t realize at the time—or maybe they changed the location after, but, yeah. I’m going. Thank you,” she adds quickly, “for writing the recommendation letter.”
“Huh.”
Jahlani tilts her head, surprised by his nonchalance at her news. Most people would say “congratulations.” But then again, he wasn’t your average guy.
“What?” she asks, trying to gauge the expression on his face.
He shakes his head, scratching his temple with a single finger. “Nothing. I just thought?—”
“What?” Her breaths quicken, and suddenly she’s heart-poundinglyterrifiedby whatever he’s about to say.
He shakes his head. “I thought you were in a relationship with Mr. Hayes. Forgive me for my bluntness.”
Her lips part and her tongue suddenly feels heavier than she remembers as she shakes her head.
“Why would you think that?”
He shakes his head, his lips turned upward in a grimace. “Forgive me, it’s not any of my business. Congratulations on the job. I’m sure you’ll do wonderful,” he says, patting her shoulder twice, precise as ever.
“Thanks,” she murmurs, sounding dazed becausehe fucking knewand her head hurts and she hasso many questionsbut he’s walking away from her.
“Professor Jackson,” she calls out. He stops, turning to face her. “Thank you. I hope everything works out for you.”
His eyes flash in understanding and he gives her a very minuscule smile, nodding his head before turning to leave.
