Stargazing with You

6. Columbia University

Chapter 6

Columbia University

Senior Year

I was just another drop in a vast ocean of blue.

The steps of Low Library, all the way down to the sundial, were filled with row after row after row of bleachers, filled with graduates clad in Columbia-blue gowns and caps of different colors and shapes depending on the degree that the wearer was receiving that day. I sat in the middle of the section devoted to the graduates from Columbia College. I knew that somewhere to my left, Javi was there among the graduates from SEAS engineering school. The rest of the commons, turned over the last week into an enormous outdoor amphitheater, was occupied by graduates from the other schools: teaching, business, social work, international affairs, dentistry, medicine, law. The grassy lawns were filled from tailored hedge to tailored hedge with white folding chairs, occupied by the family members of every person graduating from Columbia University that day.

And I was one of them.

I couldn’t believe that the most amazing four years was coming to an end. It had been grueling, but it had never felt as rewarding as it did today. The pre-med curriculum had been brutal, but I had made it through. And now here I was, getting ready to start medical school in August.

I, of course, was thrilled to be starting the next step toward my goal of becoming a doctor. But a part of me still felt a little discouraged, a little bitter, with the result of my application cycle. I had worked my butt off all these years, only for my lousy MCAT score to bridle me at the very end. After I had submitted my applications, I was distressed to find that most medical schools would not even give me the time of day. Most of them had a strict cut-off for MCAT scores beneath which they would not even look at the rest of your application. Despite my degree from Columbia, my tenure as editor-in-chief of the Journal of Global Health, my time volunteering at the women’s shelter, and my work scribing in the ER at Mount Sinai, it felt like they had blacklisted me.

As I could have predicted, the only interview I received was here, at my home, Columbia. I was grateful for the interview offer. I was even more grateful when they accepted me for admission. But I suspected strongly that the only reason they accepted me was because of my last name. And it stung to know that I couldn’t hack it on my own. Now I would be spending the next four years not only wondering if my father had something to do with my admission to medical school, but also working in the same hospital as him. Living in his shadow had always been figurative, but it was about to get real literal.

But I refused to dwell on that today. I would bask in what I had achieved: a diploma with my name on it. Written entirely in Latin, I might add, but at least it would look very fancy on the wall of my office someday.

After the commencement ceremony, the thousands of graduates dispersed in waves of blue, looking around to reconnect with friends and loved ones. I had arranged with my parents to meet afterward in the courtyard in front of John Jay. My mom drew me in for a hug when she found me, handing me an enormous bouquet of flowers.

“We’re so proud of you, honey,” she said.

My father patted my back a little awkwardly. “You did good, kid.”

He was not particularly loquacious, especially when it came to praise.

My mom started taking an incessant number of pictures of me with my cap and diploma and flowers. I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my shoulders, and I looked up to see Javi behind me. I grinned widely up at him over my shoulder, and my mom snapped the picture.

“Oh, that’s such a good picture,” my mom said, looking down at her phone. “You guys are adorable.”

I turned in his arms until I could see his face. We beamed at each other in delight.

“We did it,” I said.

“We did it!” he agreed and pulled me back into his chest for a huge hug.

He held me at arm’s reach and said, “The whole gang is over in front of Hamilton. Meet us there when you’re done?”

I nodded, promising him I would find them. He ran off in the direction of the statue of Alexander Hamilton in the distance. I looked forward to seeing the Valenzuelas again. I hadn’t seen them since the previous winter break, and I missed them all dearly.

My parents got their fill of pictures and took my diploma and flowers from me.

“We’ll meet you at the apartment for dinner at seven o’clock?” my mom asked, knowing I was anxious to find Javi. I nodded, hugging her once more, before they turned to head home.

I weaved through the clusters of graduates and their families, toward the statue of the former treasury secretary ahead. I suddenly was tackled by a mob of giggling bodies. Javi’s nieces and nephews called my name, grabbing at my robe as if they were trying to climb me like a tree. I looked over his oldest niece's head to see the entire Valenzuela clan: his mom, face smeared with streaks of mascara; his stoic but proud father; his three sisters. Valeria held the newest addition, a one-year-old little girl, on her hip.

The only person who appeared to be missing was Javi.

I hugged each of Javi’s family members in turn, before turning to his mother.

“Where did Javi go?” I asked.

They turned westward in unison, where I spotted Javi standing in the distance, speaking to a tall, very tan man in a navy suit.

“Who is that?” I asked them.

“No idea,” Gaby said. “This guy came up to him all of a sudden and asked to speak with him.”

“Well, that’s weird,” I said.

I chatted with the group for another fifteen minutes before Javi joined us. I couldn’t read the expression on his face, exactly, when he finally joined the circle of his family members. He looked excited, though I would expect as much on our graduation day. But there was a touch of something else on his face, maybe a hint of worry? The slightest crease between his eyebrows.

“Who was that, Javi?” Manuela asked. “That man who came up to you.”

“That was...” he hesitated, sounding a little stunned. “An investor. Dr. Carlyle told him about me. He wants to fund the development of my device. He’s going to pay for it—all of it. Everything I need to get The Artemis out there.”

Javi’s mother and sisters screamed and attacked him with hugs and kisses. I stared at him in wonder.

The Artemis . The device he had pitched to me on the beach in Corpus Christi during our first year of college; his passion project for the last three years. After years spent in the lab developing the prototype, it was going to be a reality. Something real and tangible that could help people.

When his mother and sisters finally released him, Javi’s face was covered in kiss marks in different shades of red lipstick. His cap was knocked askew, his dark, wavy hair peeking out beneath it. He shook his head in wonder.

“Can you believe it?” he asked me.

I threw my arms around him, his cap flying off completely with the force of my embrace. “Of course I can believe it, Javi! You’re brilliant! You’re going to change lives!”

When I let go of him, he was blushing furiously, though he wasn’t usually the type to get embarrassed. “Thanks, Doc. That means a lot.”

Javi’s family took about a hundred more photos—Javi with every combination of family members imaginable. I took a group shot of the whole crew, and then got dragged forward to join the shot, Valeria shoving her phone into the hands of a random stranger to take the picture. Javi’s mom had us pose together in about a dozen different ways before she was finally satisfied.

“Hey, can I meet you guys later at the Airbnb?” Javi asked his family. “We’ve got a couple last minute things we have to do.”

I looked at him, confused. We had made no plans together for after the ceremony. I assumed we would spend it together, as we spent most days together, but his tone made it seem like there were plans.

Javi’s family hugged us goodbye and made their way toward the wrought iron gates.

When they were out of earshot, I finally asked, “A couple last minute things to do?”

He grinned conspiratorially at me, taking my right arm and linking it through his. He led us through the last of the dispersing graduates, down the walkway, to the side of Butler Library. He turned the handle on a nondescript door, looking unsure. But he looked satisfied when the handle gave, and the door opened to us. We ducked inside quickly, finding ourselves in the service stairway of the library.

“What are we doing?” I asked, whispering.

“Our badges are deactivated, as of today,” he said. “I had to find another route.”

“Loretta?” I asked. Loretta was the very kind, probably sixty-year-old librarian that Javi had sweet-talked out of reporting us two years ago, when she had found us sneaking out of the top floor stairwell, back from the roof during our second year. She had since become our friend and confidante, and the keeper of our greatest secret.

“Loretta,” he confirmed. “I asked her to leave a door open for us.”

We made our way up the stairs, one flight after the other, laughing as we grew out of breath with the climb. This was a lot easier when the elevator brought us to the top floor. When we finally made it to the top, the trusty, dusty copy of The Iliad still propped in the door, Javi grabbed a green grocery tote from beside the door.

“My home girl, Loretta, also hooked us up with a little graduation present.” He pulled a bottle of champagne and two plastic flutes out of the bag. I grinned wildly. As I had many times in the last four years, I appreciated Javier’s ability to befriend or charm just about anyone .

We settled on the roof in our usual spot on the ledge, blue graduation gowns now unzipped, caps discarded on the ground. Javi popped the bottle of champagne, a little splash of bubbles spilling onto the tiles beneath us. He poured each of us a glass, lifting his up to tap against mine.

“To the two luckiest people in the whole world,” he said, and I repeated after him. We downed the first glass and poured another. We spent a long while peering out at the school we loved, watching the crowds disperse onto the streets below, parting ways after the ceremony. A team of workers was already disassembling the amphitheater from the steps of Low Library.

“Can you believe it’s already over?” I asked. “It feels like just yesterday that we snuck up here during our first year.”

"Time flies when you're having fun," he said, winking at me.

“Do you think we’ll have access to Butler next year? When I’m at the med school and you’re working here in the lab?” I asked hopefully.

Javi didn’t answer me. I looked at him over my champagne glass and saw a contemplative look on his face. I would almost call it a pained look.

“Javi?” I asked. “Everything okay?”

He sighed. He put his glass of champagne down and ran a hand over his face. I was growing more and more wary as I took in his expression.

“Earlier, when I told you about the investor,” he began, “I didn’t exactly tell you the whole truth of it.”

I waited for him to continue in worried silence.

“He is going to take the Artemis to the next level. He’s going to connect me with all the right people. Write me a blank check to make it happen. But he wants me to move to California to do it.”

California.

The word hung between us, laden with implications. It hit me like a punch to the gut, the air leaving my lungs with a great whoosh . We had been inseparable for the last four years. And while I struggled with the idea of being in such proximity to my father for the next four years of medical school, at least I had the consolation of being a few subway stops from Javi, here in his lab. Except he wouldn’t be here at his lab, he would be a whole country away from me. And not a country like Belgium away, a country like the entire United States of America away.

“Wow,” I said, my voice still stunned. “That’s amazing, Javi. This is such a huge opportunity.”

I met his eyes and was shocked to find them filled with tears when I did. My worry and fear dissipated like mist, and concern for him filled its place just as quickly. I threw my arms around him.

“Javi, what’s wrong?” I asked. “Why are you crying?”

I held him at arm’s length as he wiped his tears away, angrily.

“It’s stupid,” he said, admonishing himself. “I should be thrilled. I am thrilled. But this feels like high school all over again—like I have to choose between my dreams and the person who matters most to me in the entire world. I don’t want to lose you, Di.”

“Hey,” I said, lifting his chin to force him to look directly into my eyes. “You’re not going to lose me. You’re never going to lose me. Especially not for this. This is too huge an opportunity to pass up. You cannot be considering turning this offer down.”

“You say that now,” he said. “But you’ll be so busy with school and me with the Artemis. I’m worried it will never be the same.”

“It won’t be exactly the same,” I admitted, “but it doesn’t mean you won’t be my best friend in the world. We’ll text and Facetime. I’ll come visit you in California every break I get. And you have to promise to visit me whenever you get a chance.”

“Of course I will,” he said, sniffling a little pitifully.

“You cannot pass up this opportunity,” I said, firmly. “You need this. The world needs this, Javi. The world needs you and your mind. I would never forgive you if you stayed in New York for me.”

He downed his second glass of champagne and hiccuped.

“Thanks, Doc,” he said. “I hope you know I feel the same way about you. The world needs your mind too. The med school here is lucky to have you. You’re going to be an amazing doctor.”

I leaned over and squeezed his hand in thanks. For a moment, we sat in silence, the weight of our impending separation pressing down on us. We sipped on champagne and watched the sky grow darker with the approaching dusk.

We had a lot to do in the coming weeks. I was moving to a little studio apartment a few blocks away, but all my worldly belongings were currently stacked in boxes in my bedroom at my parents’ apartment on the upper east side. Orientation for medical school was scheduled for the first week of August.

Javi had been looking for an apartment, with plans to sleep on my couch until he could find something. He was also using my old bedroom as a storage facility in the meantime, though he had significantly fewer boxes than I did. Now, I supposed, he would be working on finding a place in California instead.

“Are we still going to visit with your family in Corpus this summer?” I asked him. “Do you think you’ll have time, now that you’re moving?”

“I’d like to,” he replied. “I don’t know how quickly they want me to be out there. I imagine as soon as possible. There is still a lot to figure out."

“I can come with you. Maybe we can go straight from Corpus to California together to look for places for you to live?” I offered. I had no plans for the summer—only to let my brain rot with as many books and Netflix series as possible before med school started.

“I would love that,” he said. “We will figure all this out. I’m sad to even bring it up, but if we don’t get off this roof soon, our families are going to send search parties for us.”

I looked down at my watch and nodded in agreement. We packed up our discarded champagne and flutes and blue graduation caps and stuffed them into the grocery tote. Javi climbed down off the ledge, then reached his hand up to help me down after him. I took his hand and jumped down. I didn’t attempt to stop the momentum of the descent and instead used it as an excuse to fall into Javi’s chest. I wanted to blame the champagne for the “clumsiness,” but I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t intentional or that I was anything less than sober. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight.

I hoped Javi couldn’t feel my hot tears seeping through his dress shirt. His hand sketched soothing circles in the center of my back. I couldn’t say anything, nor could I get myself to pull away from him and make the trek down the stairs back to our new reality. I wanted to stay here on this rooftop with him and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist, at least for a little while longer .

“Promise me,” Javi said against the top of my head. “That no matter where we are in the world, no matter how busy we get, we’ll always find time for each other.”

“I promise,” I whispered against his chest.

I squeezed him one last time and pulled away. We made our way back down the stairs, out of the library and onward to meet our families for the celebrations.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of packing, goodbyes and preparations for the future. Javi and I sat on the floor of my bedroom on the upper east side, sorting through our belongings, deciding what to bring with us to our next adventures and what to donate. Javi helped me load and unload the elevator in my new building with boxes and whatever furniture items we could squeeze into the tiny space.

My new apartment was a single small room, hardly bigger than my dorm room from John Jay, with a kitchenette and a tiny attached bathroom. We made the best possible use of the space that we could. We squeezed a full-size bed into the corner. We found a tiny, space-saving kitchen table with two barstools that stored neatly beneath it when it wasn’t in use. We tucked a little desk into the corner opposite the bed.

My mom, the amateur interior designer that she was, managed to make the little space feel warm and homy with the wall art and soft, modern furniture she had chosen and gifted to me for my graduation.

My father’s graduation gift to me was the first three months of rent, enough to last me comfortably until my loans for school kicked in. What he had actually proposed as his gift was four years of medical school tuition plus rent. And though I knew it made me certifiably, clinically insane, I had declined. I already struggled with going to the institution where my father worked. I already felt like I had earned almost nothing for myself, in my entire twenty-two years of life. The least I wanted to do was pay my own way, even if it meant taking the loans and paying them back slowly over my career.

My father had told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was making a mistake—that I would regret racking up years and years of interest on those loans. He had even offered to let me pay him pack directly for the total cost of tuition, sans interest. But I had inherited my stubbornness from my father, and I would not have the looming weight of owing him hundreds of thousands of dollars in the back of my mind for the next four years. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, what specialty would call to me, but I knew that if I chose anything other than cardiothoracic surgery, my father was going to have something to say about it. I didn’t need the leverage of that debt making the decision for me.

It took us about a week to finish moving me into my new place, during which Javi would regularly step away to take phone calls from his mentors and his new investor, an insanely wealthy man named Nathaniel Caldwell, about the plans for the Artemis. They wanted him to be in California starting on the project by the end of the month, leaving us little remaining time to visit his family and move his belongings. We discovered, however, that finding a place was not going to be a problem, as he had an apartment in Palo Alto waiting for him, courtesy of his new investor—rent free.

When I heard this detail, it struck me suddenly how big of a deal this was. Obviously, I believed in Javi and his invention. I thought the Artemis was amazing, and I had known from the first week I met Javi that he was a genius. But here was clear as day proof that the world was going to know it too. While I couldn’t be happier about Javi’s success, it felt like I was losing a part of him that had always belonged to only me—that part of him that dreamed out loud of inventing things, lying next to me on the roof of Butler. Now that man was going to make things for the world instead of simply brainstorming them to me.

The day before we were set to fly to Corpus Christi, we did a highlight reel of our favorites around the city. We got pizza in the east village for lunch. We got lost in the Met, before diving straight into the park and wandering through it for hours. We went to Times Square, where I imagined we were going to attempt to drop in on whatever show had a lottery for that evening. But to my surprise, Javi walked right up to TKTS and bought two full-priced tickets to see Hamilton.

I raised my eyebrows when he did this, to which he replied, “Signing bonus from Caldwell. Hit the bank account this morning.”

I shook my head at him as he grinned widely at me. He linked my elbow into his and led me to the Richard Rogers theater like we were the two richest people in the city.

After the show, we got milkshakes from Tom’s and drank them (when they were sufficiently melted) on top of the sundial in the middle of Columbia’s college walk.

When we could no longer ignore our exhaustion and the aching of our feet, we made the journey back to my new apartment. After we had settled in for the night, I lay awake in bed, looking up at the new, still unfamiliar ceiling.

“Javi?” I whispered into the dark. “Are you awake?”

“I’m awake,” he replied.

“Tell me no if it’s too weird,” I said, nervously. “But I was wondering if you would come lay next to me. I’m having a hard time falling asleep. ”

He didn’t say anything in response, but I heard him moving in the darkness.

“Scootch over, Doc,” he said, lifting the sheets. I moved over until my back was against the wall, giving him enough room to slip in beside me, with a foot of space separating our bodies. In the dim moonlight through my window, I could barely make out the faint lines of his face, looking back at me. He reached his hand out and rested it on mine.

“I know laying in your bed is probably the wrong time to tell you this,” he whispered with a soft chuckle, “but I don’t think I’ve ever told you before, and I don’t want to move across the country without saying it. I love you, Diana. I think life’s too short not to tell the people you love that you love them.”

“I love you, too,” I said. “You mean so much to me. I am so grateful that you found me in that hallway of John Jay... even if I was naked.”

He laughed so hard the bed shook beneath us. “I will never forget how cute and pitiful you looked, as long as I live. Crying in your little pink towel.”

I shoved him in the dark but laughed with him at the memory.

“Good night, Javi,” I said.

“Good night, Doc.”

When I woke in the morning, I realized quickly that I was no longer pressed flat against the wall, an arm’s reach away from Javi. I had drifted toward him in sleep until I was inches away. My hand was flat against his chest, and his arm was a comforting weight draped over my waist.

I surveyed his relaxed face in sleep, taking in every detail that I would soon be unable to see every day. I could see the smallest hint of the dimple that appeared on his left cheek when he smiled .

I found myself falling into a dangerous line of thinking. What if? What if you woke up like this every morning?

But I tucked the thought away into a distant corner of my mind as fast as it had appeared.

He’s moving to California.