Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
“No! I never skipped school, and I’ve never done drugs in my life.”
“Oh, so you spent time in the clink?” He knows full well I haven’t been to prison.
I burst out laughing. “Of course not.”
“Then how were you such a fuckup, Lucy Jones?”
I groan. “You know. Next to Katherine, most people are fuckups. I was a little disorganized. My grades weren’t as good as hers. I wasn’t as popular. Didn’t have any boyfriends in high school.”
“That was high school. This is New York. You just got told by a partner that you have a lot of potential and they want you to consider law school. You don’t sound like much of a fuckup to me.”
I’ve done some research on the possibility of law school. It all seems so intimidating. The LSAT, then years and years of study if I even get in somewhere. Then the New York bar, which is meant to be close to impossible. I shrug. “It’s probably just something they say to fulfill a quota or something. They don’t expect me to actually go through with it.”
He takes my chin and turns my head so I’m facing him. “You know that’s bullshit, right? People don’t waste their time blowing smoke. Sounds to me like you might be afraid of law school.”
He releases me, and I prod at my sandwich. “Yeah, well, maybe I am a little. Super smart people go to law school.”
“Right,” he says.
“So that’s a lot of pressure, trying to keep up with people like that.”
“Maybe you’re people like that. Ever think about that?”
The fact is, I’ve never thought of myself as someone who would go to law school. Not since college. I pushed those ideas to the back of my mind and got on with life as a paralegal.
“And anyway,” Hunter continues, “you have to apply. It’s not like they let anyone in. Take the LSAT so you’ll know. If you’re not going to keep up, you won’t get a place.”
“Yeah, so I probably won’t get in.”
“You won’t know until you try.”
He seems invested in this, and I’m not sure why.
I sigh. “But I don’t want to go through telling my parents and everything and then not get in.”
“So don’t tell them.”
I laugh. “You think I should just make the decision to go to law school and not tell my parents? They probably have to cosign my application.”
“I doubt it. You’re an adult. And yeah, you can make the decision without telling anyone.” He picks up his sandwich. “Why don’t you just do it in stages? Start with the LSAT. Study for that, take the test, see whether your score is high enough. Then you can go from there.”
I take a bite out of my sandwich as I let his suggestion settle in my brain. He’s making it sound so easy. As if someone like me can end up going to law school and that’s just how it should be.
He stares at me for a beat, then takes a bite out of his sandwich. He looks so sure of himself. So confident. Even though I know he has worries and concerns, I don’t see any of them right now in his expression while he’s talking about me.
“I guess I could get a study guide. You know, for the LSAT. I could order one and take a look.”
“Right,” he says. “In fact, there’s a store a couple of blocks over on 46th and 5th. We could take a walk when we’re finished here.”
I take another bite of my sandwich to buy some time. Do I really want to do this? I haven’t talked about this with Katherine or Mom, or even really thought it through properly for myself. But I’m just buying a book, right? It’s not like I’m filling in an application form for Fordham.
Hunter is looking at me like he’s waiting for an answer. Like he thinks it’s perfectly normal for us to go to a bookstore together and buy an LSAT study book. Looking into his blue eyes, I start to think it might be perfectly normal too.
“I’ve not had time to think about this properly,” I say on a sigh. “‘But why not seize the pleasure at once?—How often is happiness destroyed by preparation, foolish preparation!’ That’s what my mom would say. Well, she wouldn’t. Jane Austen in Emma would.”
Hunter shakes his head, incredulous. “I’ve never read any.”
“Really?”
“Nope. But she’s not wrong. Sometimes you have to jump in without thinking too hard.” He wraps up our trash and places it back in the bag our sandwiches came in. “Let’s go get you a book.”
He dumps our trash in the can, and we head east. “I’m going to be working late tonight. But do you want to get drinks later in the week? Or maybe this weekend?”
“So we can send evidence to Katherine?” I ask, enthusiastic. She’d really like to see us spending more time together.