Bad Judgment by Meghan March Page B

tricky points of law when I was researching cases to assist with writing his opinions. The last day of my externship, when he said the door was always open if I ever needed him for anything.
    I can’t imagine that most state supreme court justices would do the same, but I knew from that first day Grant was different, which explained why his externships were so highly sought after. I may have only spent eight hours a week here, but it was enough to make a lasting impression.
    He leans back in his chair and studies me for long moments before speaking. “Have you exhausted all your potential options? I hate to ask, because I know you’re a bright girl, and if there was a way for anyone to make this work, you would have already figured it out.”
    “Everything I can think of, and everything I can live with.”
    He narrows his eyes on me. “Do I want to know what options you considered that you couldn’t live with?”
    I shake my head. “No, sir.”
    “Fair enough.” He nods. “Well, I might have an option I think you could live with.”
    My mind has been turning over and trying to latch onto any possibilities, but I keep coming up empty. What could he possibly think of as a solution that I haven’t already considered?
    “I’m entertaining all options at this point. I don’t want to leave school, but I can’t stay and have them kick me out for nonpayment of tuition either.”
    Grant shifts forward and leans his elbows on the desk before lacing his fingers together. “You know my son, Ryker, correct?”
    I force myself to stay motionless when my instinctive reaction is to jerk back in my chair. What does Ryker have to do with this?
    When Grant raises an eyebrow, I realize he’s waiting for me to respond.
    “Yes, I know him.” That’s the simplest answer I can give.
    “I thought so. Well, he’s having a bit of a crisis of faith right now when it comes to law school.” His expression darkens and he adds, “This is between us and doesn’t leave this room.”
    I nod, interested in not only what the hell happened to Ryker over the summer to totally change his attitude, but what it could possibly have to do with me and my tuition. “I won’t say anything to anyone.”
    “Good. Ryker doesn’t ever need to know we’re having this conversation, regardless of what you decide.”
    Now my interest is well and truly piqued. What I decide?
    “The details aren’t important, but he isn’t sure he wants to be a lawyer anymore and has considered withdrawing from school.”
    So the rumors aren’t so far off.“But why? He’s already two years in, and it’s not like someone yanked his financial support.” As soon as I shut my mouth, it occurs to me that my response is a little too candid. But Grant doesn’t reprimand me, or do anything but nod.
    “That’s exactly what I told him. He’s lucky enough to have his tuition covered, and after explaining to him what happened to students like you, I believe he realizes just how foolish, shortsighted, and self-indulgent such a choice would be. He’s since agreed to finish out the year.”
    “I’m glad he realized throwing an opportunity like this away would be stupid.”
    Grant lowers his head for a moment before meeting my eyes. “That’s the problem. I think he’s still going to throw this opportunity away, but not by dropping out.” He leans back in his chair again and crosses his arms as I wait impatiently for what he has to say next. “According to my colleagues at the law school, Ryker is choosing not to do his reading or put forth any effort when it comes to class. He’s going to fail out, or at least damage his GPA to the point where he won’t be able to get a decent job, and certainly not a high-level clerkship like I had hoped.”
    So that explains why Ryker’s been acting like he doesn’t give a shit in class—because apparently he doesn’t anymore. But what it doesn’t explain is how this has any connection to my situation.
    “I don’t