Page 53 of A Man To Remember
"Come on, then. Let's go learn some things."
The tour group is smaller than I expected—maybe two dozen people clustered around a bubbly sophomore who clearly draws energy from other people's awkwardness. But as Austin and I join the circle, I notice something that makes my chest loosen just a little.
I'm not the oldest person here.
Not even close.
Most of the people are kids, sure. But…
There's also a woman who has to be in her forties, taking notes on everything the guide says. A man with gray temples and work-weathered hands. A couple that looks like they're in their thirties, whispering to each other about parking and childcare.
Austin notices me noticing.
Every few minutes, he nudges my ribs with his elbow and directs my attention to another group member who clearly isn't eighteen. A silent reminder that I'm not the only one starting over.
As we walk through the quad, past the library and student center, I find myself creating backstories for my fellow tourists.
The note-taking woman? Recently divorced, finally pursuing the degree she gave up to raise kids.
Gray-haired guy? Veteran using his GI benefits, wants to be a teacher.
The whispering couple? Both working full-time, looking at night classes, dreaming of something better.
People like me. People who took the scenic route through life.
By the time we reach the academic buildings, I'm actually listening to the tour guide's spiel about class sizes and professor accessibility, picturing myself walking these hallways with a backpack and a schedule.
Austin's hand finds mine again, squeezes once, and I realize he's been planning this moment. This exact revelation.
When the official tour ends, the group disperses, but Austin leads me toward a bench overlooking the main quad.
"So?" he says, settling beside me. "What do you think?"
I watch people cross the grass, some my age, some younger, some older. All of them just... belonging here. Like it's the most natural thing in the world.
"I think..." I pause, trying to find the right words. "I think maybe I've been making this harder than it needs to be."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I kept picturing myself as this outsider, you know? Like everyone would stare and whisper about the guy who couldn't hack it the first time around."
Austin leans back against the bench. "And now?"
"And now…it doesn't feel as impossible as it did in my head."
He doesn't say anything after that, just watches my face like he's memorizing it.
"Thank you," I say finally. "For making me come here. For believing I could do this even when I didn't believe it myself."
"You've already done the impossible, Jesse. The rest is easy."
We sit in comfortable silence, watching the campus come alive around us, and for the first time in years, I let myself imagine a different future.
One where I'm walking these paths with purpose instead of just visiting them with fear.
***
AUSTIN
