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“What kind?”
“The expensive kind.”
“Let me guess, like most of the rich guys who come here, they want you to be a lawyer and take over.”
He smiles. “Not really. I already own a percentage of the firm, and I don’t have to be a lawyer. They took care of that part.”
“Then why are you in college?”
His grin widens. “Because I’m bored, Melody,” he says, going back to the book and flipping a page. “It would look bad if I didn’t have a degree when I own a seven hundred-million-dollar law firm at my age.”
“What kind of law firm is that? The kind that only hires graduates from Harvard. Like in the showSuits?”
He snorts. “No, the kind that shows results. Some are from Harvard; others are from Stanford and Cambridge. You can’t have all your eggs in one basket. It would limit potential.”
“What basket are you hatched from?”
He knows I’m asking what kind of lawyers his parents are.
“The kind that holds money, power, and influence. The kind that can send their kids to college and get a degree in basket weaving, and it wouldn’t make a difference because where there is money, there is lineage. Graduating from Kenyan is enough. You have been given an opportunity of a lifetime.”
“It doesn’t seem like it.”
“That’s because you’ve been hanging around the wrong people.”
“And you’re better?” I say mordantly.
Jeremy is challenging and infuriating. He should go to law school and become a lawyer. He’s got teeth and persuasion.
“I never said I’m the best or better. But I am interesting.”
“Aren’t you cocky? So you’re saying you’re better than Valen?” I challenge.
His left eye twitches. I’ve struck a nerve. “I’m not saying that. If you want to compare, you’ll have to hang out with me and be the judge.”
I grin. “Is this how you ask a girl out?”
“No.” He smiles, and there is a twinkle in his eyes that I don’t trust. He writes something down in his notebook, tears the paper, and hands it to me.
I take it, and it reads:.
There are ears everywhere here. I think you’re gorgeous, Melody. A guy like Valen doesn’t deserve you, and I think deep down you know it. Will you come to my next swim meet?
I write down five simple words and hand him the paper.
If you tell me why,?
He looks around nervously, like he will get caught in class for passing notes. He writes something down and slides the paper over.
My ex-girlfriend cheated on me. She slept with him at a party. Her name is Stephanie. Ask around if you don’t believe me. I’m not interested in a girl who wants a guy like that.
What a bitch, and Valen is an asshole for doing it. I can’t believe Jeremy wants to use me.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he blurts. “It’s not to get back at anyone. I don’t…”
“Want the same thing to happen again?” I finish for him. “And you think...”
I don’t have to finish. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he thinks I’m different because I haven’t slept with him. I don’t think girls recover that easily. I got a taste, and look at me, hiding in the library. I shouldn’t hide. It makes me look weak. Vulnerable.
