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“Some of my dean friends at other law schools like to tell their first-year students to look to their right and then their left, odds are one of those people won’t be sitting next to you at graduation,” Tweed Dean said as he paced the stage while he talked into the microphone on his lapel.
Sloane looked at her and rolled her eyes. Ari agreed the melodrama was a bit heavy handed.
“My experience is di erent,” he continued. “I say look to either side of you. Chances are you’re sitting in the room with your future spouse.”
People laughed and the dean kept talking, but Ari couldn’t breathe. She certainly didn’t risk looking to her left. What if Sloane was looking at her? What if she wasn’t? Ari hadn’t been brave enough to find out.
Ari couldn’t have guessed how much things would change after those first few months, after first term grades were released and they understood the ranking system. Once they became competitors, fighting for the top spot only one person could occupy, all hope of friendship . . . or anything else . . . evaporated so very suddenly.
THE RUSH of the Crowned Swan’s outdoor patio’s ambiance slammed into Ari like an errant baseball finding a distracted spectator.
“Ari, your pocket’s lighting up,” Javon said, snapping her fully out of her unintentional trip down memory lane.
Fishing her cell phone out of her jacket, Ari grinned while shaking her head.
Mom: Can’t wait to celebrate with you tonight!
Dad: So proud of you, kiddo! There was never any doubt you were gonna rock that test!
Mom: We’ve got the grill ready for your favorites! Just let us know when you’re on your way. No rush. We took a disco nap just in case you wanted to stay out a bit with your friends.
Dad: I even got you that churrasco you like from the Argentinian butcher. Plus, you gotta see what your mom made.
A moment later an image popped up in their group chat that would’ve been mortifying if it wasn’t so thoughtful. A cake bust resembling Ari’s face, if she squinted, wearing a curly, white wig and holding a sign reading Arwyn Vidal, ESQ. Ari bet her life the pointy elf ears had been her dad’s contribution.
Mom: Isn’t it great!! Your friends in the bakery made it!
They’re so proud of you, honey. I told them you’d drop in over the weekend and see them.
Ari’s eyes filled with emotion. She was overwhelmingly grateful in so many ways.
Ari: That’s AMAZING!!!! I’m calling a rideshare right now. Be there in twenty minutes. Can’t wait to see you and eat my own face. XOXO.
With the prospect of her new future ahead, Ari left the dregs of the past behind. Whatever could have been between her and Sloane was very dead, and she wasn’t going to waste another second of the best day of her life thinking about her.
If she did fail the bar and didn’t have a friend in the world to comfort her, that was her own fault.
CHAPTER 13
ARI WAITED in line along with every other baby prosecutor getting sworn into the bar that morning. Standing still in the courthouse’s hallway was proving to be an impossible task.
Between her heels being too tight and too high, her anticipation of the moment she’d dreamed about, and the residual grief for the people not present, Ari’s nerves were already near breaking.
“All right everybody, don’t be nervous,” Chad instructed as if it was something that could be helped. He passed them like kindergarteners lined up to go in the classroom. “This moment only comes once. Try and enjoy it.”
Ari wanted more than anything to follow his advice, but with neither her body nor her brain willing to stop moving, it was proving impossible to be present. Having seen Sloane dressed in a white suit when the rest of them wore black had done very little to soothe her. She did her best to breathe and forget the rest.
Chad looked
down at his phone before slipping it into his pants’ pocket. “Okay, they’re ready for us,” he announced before throwing open the massive door to the ceremonial
courtroom. Despite a thumping heart and trembling legs, Ari willed herself forward and stepped into 1928.
The incredibly ornate courtroom was like nothing she’d ever seen. Even in movies. The dark wood beams running across the ceiling were etched with artistic patterns and painted bright colors. On the walls covered in thick, yellow wallpaper, hung dramatic candelabras and old fans that kept the room lit and cool nearly a hundred years before. The judge’s bench, clerks’ tables, windows, pews, juror and witness boxes were all fashioned out of rich, dark wood adorned with beautiful designs.
Taking a deep breath and soaking in the moment, Ari imagined what it would’ve been like to be here for the courtroom’s most famous trials. What had Al Capone looked like sitting at the defendant’s table? Or FDR’s failed assassin? She imagined all the people crammed together in Miami’s su ocating heat before the days of air conditioners and felt momentarily connected to history.
Ari filed in to the first pew reserved for them at the front of the room. Their friends and family were already squeezed into the benches behind them. She hadn’t had time to search for her parents, but she was grateful they were following the rules and being quiet. There would be no clapping until the end. Smiling, she wondered if her mother had taped her dad’s hands together to force him to comply.
