Chapter 2:

Registration Day

Re:Graduate

“I wanna drop out…” Seri sighed..

“We haven’t even started yet.”

It was the frigid morning of course registration day, fifteen minutes before it opened at seven o’clock. I was still wrapped in blankets at my desk as we sat in a video call together. We even had a countdown timer like it was New Year’s Eve.

“Why is it still loading?!”

I browsed my computer to an orchestral rendition of Seri’s complaints, which was as varied in energy and rhythm as a three movement classical piece. Her repeated sighs sounded like she was doing breathing exercises. She was amusing enough to keep me from falling asleep at my desk — no energy drink required.

Occasionally, I tabbed out of the clunky university website to sneak a glance at her frustrated face. Although I tried not to stare, I found Seri’s expressions hard to look away from; the way she furrowed her brows and pressed her lips together was strangely likeable.

“Hang in there,” I said. “You still have time.”

“Aauurgh! What were they thinking?! I didn’t know they could make the website worse than it already was. Is this what our tuition money goes towards?”

“Cut them some slack.”

“Never.”

I chuckled through my nose.

The university website had completely changed since four years ago, and not in a good way. It used to look like an early 2000’s forum — ugly and slow, but functional. Unfortunately, the university listened to our complaints and updated the site’s visuals. In their attempt to modernise its aesthetics, they created a dysfunctional labyrinth of icons that had students begging our dean to rescind the changes.

“Ah! I think I found the class listing!” Seri exclaimed. “What do I do now?”

“Favourite the classes that you want. Then when registration opens, you can just enrol in everything at the same time.”

“Ooh, that’s new! I guess they finally did something right.”

“They’ve always had this function.”

“…they did?”

“Yeah…”

“…”

She was less technologically savvy than I expected from a Gen Z kid, but I couldn’t really blame her. The website was trash.

I glanced at the corner of my screen. There was only a couple minutes left, according to the clock.

“Oooh, I think I figured it out!” she declared.

“Congrats!” I stretched in relief.

Seri leaned forwards with her pupils reflecting the monitor’s rectangular glow. The lens was angled in a way that made her forehead comically larger. Her eyes were wide and intermittently flicked around like a small animal scanning foreign surroundings. I took a screenshot.

She scowled. “Did you just take a screenshot?”

I desperately held back my laughter. “How’d you know?”

“It just sent a notification. Why? Did I look weird?”

“Heh.”

“Show me!”

“You know,” I said. “I heard an alumni say that if you’re smart enough to navigate the university’s website, you’re smart enough for the university.”

“That doesn’t make me any more confident… hey! You changed the subject!”

“What would make you more confident?”

Seri sighed again. “Maybe if the school helped us more. It was easier back when the nursing faculty picked our courses for us, and we were guaranteed classes with our friends. Look at us now.”

“Yup. No hand holding, no friends.”

“Right? This degree is gonna suck…”

“But maybe it’s for the better,” I yawned.

“What do you mean?” Seri yawned too. It was contagious.

“You mentioned it before, right? You found it hard to sleep early since your friends played videogames late at night. I had the same problem in nursing.”

“How?”

“I couldn’t study because my friends always wanted to party. Unfortunately, I couldn’t score high grades without studying, unlike them.”

Seri’s mouth hung open. “…you had friends?”

“…huh?”

“You seemed like a loner.”

“Where did that come from? Are you projecting?”

She grinned and propped up her face. The tension from earlier had dissipated from her expression.

“Sorry, keep talking,” she said.

“I get mad FOMO, so I never turned down anyone when they asked to hang out.”

Seri nodded. “Honestly, that’s relatable. If you turn down someone too much, they stop asking.”

“Yeah! That was my biggest fear, so I became a big yes-man. If I picked a program that required a competitive GPA like pharmacy, I might’ve failed… but since all my friends graduated, I can finally focus on my studies this time.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great if you do the bucket list with me.”

I laughed uncomfortably. “What about you?”

“Mmm…” Seri pursed her lips as her eyes drifted in thought. “I think I was the opposite. I didn’t party to begin with, but I still had friends since our faculty was small.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, but I’m a little scared that if I study for pharmacy too seriously, I won’t make any friends.”

“Really?” I asked. Her fear surprised me.

“Yeah. Making new friends is stressful, so I’d rather keep my old ones. That’s why I had such a hard time dropping out of nursing and moving on with my list.”

“Sounds like you need a friend who’s trying for pharmacy too,” I joked.

She smiled. “I guess so. Do you know anyone?”

“Nope. Tough luck.”

Our interaction warmed up the cold morning.

“Oh, right…” Seri started. She hesitated for a moment before continuing.

“What? Is it about the bucket list? I’m still thinking about it.”

She rubbed the back of her neck. “I guess so. It’s actually next on my list…”

I racked my brain trying to remember. “Is it going to the gym?”

“No, it’s the textbooks. Could you help me buy mine next week?”

“Sure,” I replied. Why was she nervous?

“Even if we get into different English classes?”

“…yeah. We can grab them together. Why do you need help though?”

Seri shifted to avoid eye contact. “I’m trying to buy a second-hand book…”

“Yeah?”

“In-person…“

I paused for a moment. She was still looking at the ground. “It should be fine if you’re meeting them in public,” I assured her.

“But I’ve never done it before!”

I stared at her blankly. I’m pretty sure she was twenty-two years old.

“Pleeease?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Thanks! I’ll let you know when.”

As if on cue, an alarm blared in my room. I let it ring for a bit as I took a deep breath. We straightened our backs in unison and shared a nod before I tabbed out of the video call.

“60 seconds left,” I said, pulling up the enrollment website. “You ready?”

“Haha, why am I nervous?”

“Tell me about it.” I hovered my mouse over the refresh button. The seconds counted down. Thirty… twenty-nine…

“What if we don’t get the same classes?” Seri asked.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t wanna be alone in my classes…”

“Don’t you make friends pretty easily?”

“It’s still stressful.”

Fifteen…fourteen…

“Good luck,” I said.

“You too…”

“…”