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Focus, I tell myself, repeating the word in my head. If I follow her lead, I can pass this class and move on with my life and more important things than Law and Ethics.
“I’m not going to give you the answer, Shawn, but I will tell you that you should look up informed consent for the deceased client because the attorney-client privilege applies to death.” She holds my gaze for a few seconds, and then adds, “Don’t look so disappointed. I gave you more than enough to get you started. You’ll have to trust me and do some of the work on your own.”
“I trust you,” I stammer.
“Good. Trust is important if we’re going to work together.”
I flash a grin in her direction. “Looking forward to it.”
With that, she dives head first into the legal jargon on the page in front of her, killing my boner with a few words.
Nothing is less interesting or sexy than the attorney-client privilege. Somehow, Ella makes learning fun, or at least less boring.
After I grab a sandwich in the cafeteria, I head over to the table by the window where my teammates meet most nights for dinner. I join them when our schedules align. Between my fraternity brothers and the team, I’m constantly running in two different directions. I do my best to split my time between them, so no one is offended when I have to choose the other.
“About time you showed up,” Bash says with a smirk. “Were you out looking for your mystery girl again?” He laughs, which gets the rest of the guys at the table going.
“Laugh it up, assholes.” I set my tray down on the other side of the table from Bash and Tori and take my usual seat next to Clay and his girlfriend, Jessica. “Just wait until I find her. Then, we’ll see who’s laughing.”
“Ignore them,” Tori says, digging her elbow into Bash’s arm. “They are idiots.” She leans forward and locks eyes with me. “I hope you find her, Finch. When you do, I hope she’s worth every bit of the hassle you put yourself through.”
I flash a closed mouth smile. “Thanks, Tori. I hope so, too.”
Of all the girls Bash has brought around, Tori is by far my favorite. Like me, she’s not one of the spoiled brats who came to Strickland University with a hefty trust fund. I like that she’s a scholarship kid. We don’t have buildings named after our families or even have enough money to afford a single class without some form of assistance.
“Why did Coach call you into his office?” Clay asks between bites of chicken.
“To tell me about the classes I’m failing already and that he assigned me a tutor.” I unwrap my sandwich, keeping my eyes low and focused on eating. I’m fucking starving. I had no time to eat after football practice since I had to show up for tutoring right after.
“Dude, not again,” Bash grunts. “You need to get your shit together.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know,” I quip.
At the end of the table, some of the girls from Kappa are huddled up together, picking at their salads and sucking down yogurt drinks. I’m supposed to eat healthier. Instead, I grabbed a greasy sandwich that has far more calories than I should be eating today, and I don’t give a fuck. I’m waiting for Bash to give his usual team captain pep talk about following Coach’s orders.
Bash shakes his head, disappointed. “You are always fucking off. If you didn’t live in a frat house, you would be more focused. Less drinking and more studying.”
“Like your house is any better,” I spit back, annoyed. “You guys party almost as much as my brothers.”
“But we have priorities,” Bash counters. “None of us are failing our classes, we show up to practice on time, and we don’t have to do extra drills to make up for slacking off.”
“Well, we all can’t be perfect like Sebastian Prince.” The words burn on my tongue.
“Both of you need to stop it.” Tori interrupts our argument.
I let out an exaggerated sigh and attempt to keep my tone at a reasonable level. “We’re done.”
“I’m only looking out for you, Finch,” Bash shoots back.
Tori gets up from the table and walks over to the trash can in the center of the cafeteria. She dumps her tray, her eyes widening in shock. I have no idea what has her so excited until she cups her hands around her mouth to yell, “Hey, Ella! Over here!”
The name alone causes me to scan the crowded room. At first, I assume there is no way Tori and Ella are friends until I see Ella raise her hand to wave to Tori.
No fucking way.
Then, it occurs to me that Tori had wanted to fix me up with someone named Ella the night of the party. That must be why I thought there was something familiar about Ella when she’d told me her name.
Tori meets Ella in the center of the room, sipping soda through the straw. She adjusts the messenger bag on her shoulder and hugs Tori. They embrace each other as if they are old friends, though I have never seen them together.
