Page 73 of Better Than Gelato
He sent me a picture of him in the lobby, and I don’t ask questions, I just throw on my coat over my pajamas and tiptoe out the door. It’s March but the night air makes it feel like winter.
He scoops me into his arms and kisses me, and it feels so perfect I wonder what selfless deeds I performed in a previous life that earned me this reward.I probably saved an orphanage from a fire. Or told a young Taylor Swift that she should consider a career in music.
I kiss him for a long time and when he starts to tell me something, I shake my head and keep kissing him. He laughs, and I finally pull away.
“Are you interested in a night picnic?” he asks.
He’s got a backpack, and his eyes are sparkling as bright as the moon.
“Yes, I am,” I say.
We walk to a little park nearby, holding hands, not talking much. My brain is still trying to wake up. Tall pine trees surround an open, grassy space and Jake leads us right to the center. He pulls a blanket, two bottles of orange-flavored San Pellegrino, and a pastry box full of sweets from his backpack. He’s humming the whole time.
“Are we celebrating something I don’t know about?” I scramble to think of the date.Oh no. We’re not a cheesy couple that celebrates our sixth month anniversary are we?
“Do you want to hear some good news?” he asks.
“Always,” I say.
“Even if it’s braggy?”
I gasp. “You got into medical school!”
“I got into medical school!” His smile goes wide, and his dimples deepen.
I crawl into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Of course you did. Because you are the smartest and best-looking guy they’ve ever seen.” I give him a good long kiss. “Tell me everything!”
“I got waitlisted at Harvard and accepted at Columbia and Johns Hopkins.”
“That’s amazing! How do you feel?”
“Relieved! Harvard is flattering, but in the end useless. Unless a bunch of people who got into Harvard decided theydon’twant to go- which feels unlikely- I’m not getting off that waitlist. So it’s Columbia or Johns Hopkins.”
“Which direction are you leaning?”
“I’m not sure. I loved doing my undergrad at Johns Hopkins. I definitely wouldn't mind going back there. But the research they’re doing at Columbia is super interesting.”
We spend another hour weighing the pros and cons of each school and talking about what Jake’s life will be like as a med student. His face is glowing with happiness. We eat yummy pastries and make ridiculous and long-winded toasts with our San Pellegrino. We giggle and kiss. We try to point out the constellations, but we don’t know any of them and instead we make up funny names and stories for the glittering dots in the sky. Everything seems funnier when it’s dark and you’re outside on a blanket.
“You’re going to be exhausted tomorrow,” I tell Jake as we kiss by the elevator.
“Worth it,” he says. And kisses me again.
* * *
I think about Jake while I take Isa to school the next day. He looked so happy last night. And I feel happy for him. But there’s something slinking around my belly that feels a lot like envy.
I shake it off. Jake’s worked hard for this. He deserves it.
When I get back from school drop off, I call my mom. It’s late there, but I know she’ll be excited to hear Jake’s news.
“Oh! Juls! How are you?” Her voice sounds funny.
“Jake got into medical school! He’s going to Columbia or Johns Hopkins!”
“Wow!” she says. “That’s very exciting for him.”
