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“Again…” Jameson draws a banner in the air with his hand. “Columbia Law.”
“I had toworkfor that. Come up with tons of strategies so my mind doesn’t wander. Train my interests. That kind of thing.”
“Train your interests?”
Get used to focusing on law school andonlylaw school. Letting everything else go.
I want to be above asking him questions, but guess what? He’s the only person here. I didn’t spend all those years becoming a good learner only to abandon intellectual inquest the second times got rough. “You’re a tea person?”
“Depends on the day.” The water finishes dispensing into the mug, and he drops the infuser in. Jameson drapes the chain gently over the edge. He takes his phone out, glances at the screen, and puts it away. He leans against the countertop again, crosses his arms casually over his stomach, and nods toward my bowl. “Eat that before it gets cold. Why would a person have to study for law school two months in advance?”
My stomach growls. “I got into this pre-law program at Columbia. It starts next month. My friends and I have been studying since undergrad to get ahead.” I’m exhausted thinking about it. But that’s from the night I had last night. It has nothing to do with my academic achievements.
“Ahead of what?”
“Ahead of…” I dip the spoon into the oatmeal and swirl the brown sugar in. I don’t normally gravitate toward oatmeal, but this smellssogood. All three berries go with the first spoonful. “Whoever else is in our year, I guess. I have to be extra prepared.”
“To prove you’re not there because of the judge?” He puts a slight, cutting emphasis onthe judge. My heart beats a little faster. It’s a tiny piece of information. It might mean nothing. Or it might mean that I’m here because of something my grandfather did.
Something Jamesonbelieveshe did. My grandfather has always done the right thing. If that’s what this is about, then…
No.Nope.Too far. Too many assumptions. I’ll remember how he sounded, and that’s it.
“Maybe. There are other reasons.”
I take the first bite of oatmeal.
Holy habeas corpus. I make anoise.
“Too hot?” That edge has disappeared from Jameson’s voice. He sounds for-real concerned that I burned my tongue on his oatmeal.
“This is—this is transcendent,” I say around the oatmeal. It’s so good I don’t want to swallow, but I do. The rest of the bowl is waiting. “I’ve never—I can’t believe—”
“It’s…oatmeal.” Jameson’s eyes widen. “You’ve never seen oatmeal before?”
“Not like this. It’sgood. It’s not like other oatmeal.”
He sucks a breath through his teeth. “Yikes. That’s a little insulting to other oatmeal, don’t you think?”
“How did youmakeit?”
“Secret recipe.”
“It’s oatmeal.”
“It’stranscendent,according to you, demon girl.”
My face isstillgoing to flush when he says that. Good to know. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”
“I won’t.”
The bird tweets, hopping around in his cage. “Why didn’t you tell me what his name was?”
Jameson glances at me. “What?”
“You called him Snowball. Was that supposed to be a secret?”
“Fuck, you’re right. Lily, this is Snowball. Snowball, this is Lily, short for Lilith, the demon.”
