Lydia's own eyebrows arch at that and she turns her head just slightly in a mixture of confusion and suspicion, eyes narrowing. It comes out before she can stop it even though she can already tell that he very much isn't.

"...Jackson?"

Lydia tells herself that maybe he's just especially screwed up from the orientation; that if she gives him a minute and maybe prompts him again, he'll remember. She isn't willing to acknowledge the pang of upset that comes with thinking she could ever be forgettable to Jackson, because he was a jerk, but he was her jerk and she loved him. He was the only guy she ever had loved.