Seeing Jack

After my costume’s hung up, I change into sweats, a hoodie, and flip flops. I take the braid out of my hair and then pull it back in a simple ponytail. I say goodbye to the theater for the night. It was a good performance, I’d say. I’d definitely gotten more into my character then the night before. I don’t know if I was just imagining it, but it seemed like the audience clapped the loudest for me when we were taking bows.

My car is just a block away; the parking lot had already been full when I arrived. It’s a warm night, especially for early April.

“Maggie.” The voice comes from behind, and it makes me jump. I turn around and see its source; a guy in his late teens that I don’t recognize. I can’t see that well in the dark, but I can tell he’s definitely attractive; ashy blond hair, wide eyes that are either blue or gray. He’s dressed like he’s older, though; black trenchcoat, khakis, black leather shoes. He sees my expression and smiles; it’s a gorgeous smile. But how does he know who I am.

“Don’t you remember me?”

I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve never seen this guy before in my life. I shake my head.

He laughs softly. “It’s Jack.”

Then it hits me. Jack Walker? No, it can’t be, not this boy. But I take a closer look at him. Of course. Beneath how he appears to me now; I see four years or so subtracted from his face; the features are softer, more acne-ridden, and the hair is unkempt. I see braces on once uneven teeth. Of course he’s changed a lot since then, but I still see the features of a fourteen year old boy that would eventually grow into what they are now. It takes me a long time to realize that he’s beside me. “Jack?” I finally say. “Jack Walker?”

He laughs. He extends his arms out toward me; I move closer and hug him. It’s the first time we’ve hugged—back then, he probably would have thought it was gross—but it feels natural. I think of how long it’s been. It’s the end of my last year of college; Jack was a freshman and I was a senior in high school when we met; that it would make it his first year of college. Four years. It’s been four years.

But I don’t know why it’s stirring me so much. In the year of high school that we shared, Jack Walker and I were not friends. I’d been a part of a peer mentoring program at my school, where seniors meet with groups of freshmen at the beginning of the year to supposedly help them transition into high school and make upperclassmen friends. But I had a group of freshmen boys that obviously didn’t want to be there. They were all obnoxious and immature; but Jack had been the worst. I would have had nothing to do with him after that. However, it was just my luck that he’d been doing poorly in both math and science (A D minus in both subjects if I remember correctly) and that his parents made him sign up for a tutoring program at the school, that I had happened to have been picked as his tutor. The tutoring had continued though out the year; but it had gotten miserable after a while. Jack never took it seriously. We didn’t talk outside of the Tuesday afternoons he spent at my house. But as much as I thought that I hated him, at the end of the year, I wanted to stay in contact. So we’d signed each other’s yearbooks (I don’t even remember what I wrote), but of course, the in the past four years we hadn’t spoken. He had his life to lead and I had mine. But it was nice to see him again.

“How have you been doing?” I asked. “How did you know I was here?”

“I have a friend who saw the play here two nights ago,” he said. “He was telling me about it. He showed me the program, and I saw your name. At first I thought it was just a coincidence, since Maggie Spencer isn’t exactly uncommon. But I remembered you were going here for college, and that you were going to be a theater major. I knew it was probably you, but I asked my friend to describe you. I knew it was you from his description, and that I had to come and say hi.”

“I’m glad you did,” I said. “You’re at college, right?”

He nodded. “Yep, first year. I live on campus— just about fifteen minutes out, actually.”

“How are you liking it?”

“It’s okay. Just different. I’m still trying to get used to it.”

I opened my mouth to ask him about his grades, but I paused and closed it again because I didn’t want him to take it as rude. But he must have read my mind.

“Guess what?”

“Hm?”

“I had straight As for both semesters last year. My grades have improved so much since freshman year.” He smiled.

“That’s…great. I’m really glad to hear that, actually.”

“Yeah. I’m trying to go into criminal justice now.”

“Sounds fun.”

Something vibrated in Jack’s pocket. He sighed and took out his phone. “Yep…mhm. Yeah, it’s done now. Mhmm. Give me two minutes.” He hung up then put his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry,” he said to me. “I have to go. But it was nice seeing you after so long.”

“Yeah.”

“Since we’re close, we’ll have to meet each other again one of these days.”

“Yeah.” I don’t know why, but this made me smile. “For sure. Coffee or something?”

He nodded. “That would be great.” He paused, as if hesitating. “A lot happens in four years.”

We exchanged phone numbers, and we waved goodbye again. And I watched him walk off into the night, an airy feeling in my stomach I never thought in a million years that Jack Walker would give me.