my way not to be competition. And I’m definitely no competition now.
“Really?” Merica prompts her, giving me the side-eye me like no other. “What else did Kristy say?”
Leslie lowers her voice as if someone is going to overhear her. “Apparently he hasn’t even opened his laptop in a class yet. It’s like he’s deliberately trying to fail this semester. Kristy said she’s worried about him.”
“If Kristy’s so worried, maybe she shouldn’t be spreading gossip around,” Merica says, letting her trademark snarkiness bleed over into her words.
Leslie shrugs. “I’m just telling you what she told me.”
“That’s pretty big speculation considering we’re only a week in. Maybe he’s just bored with this first-week-of-class song and dance.” Why am I putting out some kind of explanation for this? It’s not like I care either way what Ryker is doing or what the gossips are saying, as long as it doesn’t include me.
“I heard from Heath Whitehouse, who clerked with him all summer in Justice Bryant’s chambers, that he was totally apathetic from day one. It’s like someone flipped a switch. He went from being normal Ryker without a care in the world to a real prick.”
“Aren’t you just full of gossip today?” Merica sips her Diet Coke again and meets my gaze.
“Didn’t you have an externship with Ryker’s dad last semester?” Leslie asks me.
I nod.
“Did you find out anything about him that could explain this?”
“He didn’t come up as a topic of conversation.” My tone is dry, and I hope she picks up on the fact that I’m over this conversation.
“Then I guess this remains an unsolved mystery,” Leslie says with another shrug. “Anyway, I gotta get going. I’m heading up north with a couple of my undergrad sorority sisters for one last weekend of fun. Talk to you Monday!”
We watch Leslie bounce away, apparently thrilled that she has shared all the gossip in her arsenal, and Merica pushes aside her now empty can of Diet Coke.
“I’m ready to get the hell out of here. You?”
“More than ready.” We both gather up our backpacks, and Merica tosses her can in the recycling bin as we walk out of the café.
“Are you coming over tonight for the New Girl marathon?”
I debate my options. Sitting at home and thinking about all the things I can’t change, or hanging out with my best friend pretending my problems don’t exist. Choice number two is the clear winner.
“Absolutely. See you at seven?”
“Perfect. I’m ordering pizza, so come hungry.”
“You know I will.”
Justine
An unknown number shows up on my phone, and out of instinct and caution, I let it go to voice mail. Yes, I screen all my calls.
As soon as the voice mail pops up on my notifications, I check it.
Part of me hopes to hear Ryker’s familiar deep voice, but I slap that part upside the head. But shockingly, I’m not that far off.
“Justine, I’ve been thinking a lot about your predicament, and I want to make sure you’ve found a suitable solution. Feel free to come by my chambers before six tonight if you’d like to discuss it.”
He doesn’t even say his name, and he doesn’t need to. I’d recognize Justice Grant’s voice anywhere.
I wonder if he’s already heard through the grapevine that Ryker walked out of class. As a member of the board of trustees, I imagine that word travels pretty quickly to his ears when something happens concerning his son.
For a second I feel a flash of pity for Ryker, but it evaporates just as quickly. Because his dad is a trustee, he doesn’t have to worry about paying for tuition. And yet he still walked out of class today like the entitled jerk I’ve called him more than once. Who does that?
Doesn’t he realize how good he has it? He drives around in his Camaro, has the latest and greatest MacBook and access to opportunities most students can only dream about, and now he’s spending week nights at the strip club, walking out of class,
“Really?” Merica prompts her, giving me the side-eye me like no other. “What else did Kristy say?”
Leslie lowers her voice as if someone is going to overhear her. “Apparently he hasn’t even opened his laptop in a class yet. It’s like he’s deliberately trying to fail this semester. Kristy said she’s worried about him.”
“If Kristy’s so worried, maybe she shouldn’t be spreading gossip around,” Merica says, letting her trademark snarkiness bleed over into her words.
Leslie shrugs. “I’m just telling you what she told me.”
“That’s pretty big speculation considering we’re only a week in. Maybe he’s just bored with this first-week-of-class song and dance.” Why am I putting out some kind of explanation for this? It’s not like I care either way what Ryker is doing or what the gossips are saying, as long as it doesn’t include me.
“I heard from Heath Whitehouse, who clerked with him all summer in Justice Bryant’s chambers, that he was totally apathetic from day one. It’s like someone flipped a switch. He went from being normal Ryker without a care in the world to a real prick.”
“Aren’t you just full of gossip today?” Merica sips her Diet Coke again and meets my gaze.
“Didn’t you have an externship with Ryker’s dad last semester?” Leslie asks me.
I nod.
“Did you find out anything about him that could explain this?”
“He didn’t come up as a topic of conversation.” My tone is dry, and I hope she picks up on the fact that I’m over this conversation.
“Then I guess this remains an unsolved mystery,” Leslie says with another shrug. “Anyway, I gotta get going. I’m heading up north with a couple of my undergrad sorority sisters for one last weekend of fun. Talk to you Monday!”
We watch Leslie bounce away, apparently thrilled that she has shared all the gossip in her arsenal, and Merica pushes aside her now empty can of Diet Coke.
“I’m ready to get the hell out of here. You?”
“More than ready.” We both gather up our backpacks, and Merica tosses her can in the recycling bin as we walk out of the café.
“Are you coming over tonight for the New Girl marathon?”
I debate my options. Sitting at home and thinking about all the things I can’t change, or hanging out with my best friend pretending my problems don’t exist. Choice number two is the clear winner.
“Absolutely. See you at seven?”
“Perfect. I’m ordering pizza, so come hungry.”
“You know I will.”
Justine
An unknown number shows up on my phone, and out of instinct and caution, I let it go to voice mail. Yes, I screen all my calls.
As soon as the voice mail pops up on my notifications, I check it.
Part of me hopes to hear Ryker’s familiar deep voice, but I slap that part upside the head. But shockingly, I’m not that far off.
“Justine, I’ve been thinking a lot about your predicament, and I want to make sure you’ve found a suitable solution. Feel free to come by my chambers before six tonight if you’d like to discuss it.”
He doesn’t even say his name, and he doesn’t need to. I’d recognize Justice Grant’s voice anywhere.
I wonder if he’s already heard through the grapevine that Ryker walked out of class. As a member of the board of trustees, I imagine that word travels pretty quickly to his ears when something happens concerning his son.
For a second I feel a flash of pity for Ryker, but it evaporates just as quickly. Because his dad is a trustee, he doesn’t have to worry about paying for tuition. And yet he still walked out of class today like the entitled jerk I’ve called him more than once. Who does that?
Doesn’t he realize how good he has it? He drives around in his Camaro, has the latest and greatest MacBook and access to opportunities most students can only dream about, and now he’s spending week nights at the strip club, walking out of class,
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