by Minot, Diana
“Who told you that?” Whitney asked in an accusing tone, surprising herself with how defensive she felt of Alex. After all, he had tried to make a move on her when they had only known each other for a few hours. It would not be that surprising to discover that he was the type to sleep around a lot.
“Crystal told me,” Jamie said. “Apparently Ben was drunk at the bar after orientation, and divulged all kinds of interesting information about Alex. They’re roommates, you know.”
“I know,” Whitney said. She was annoyed at Ben for gossiping about Alex, but maybe Ben thought it was cool that Alex had slept with every girl at the restaurant. Whitney did not want to think about whether Ben liked the idea of sleeping around.
Elise shrugged. “Well, I mean, I just think Alex is good-looking. I barely know him so I don’t know if I’m interested or not.”
“I could say the same thing about Ben,” Whitney said.
Their food arrived, and the conversation shifted from boys to their worries over the difficulties of law school. Whitney took another dose of Advil, and her pounding headache started to subside as she washed the medicine down with copious amounts of water and coffee. The greasy hash browns helped, too. Whitney was enjoying herself more than she thought she would when she dragged herself out of the apartment this morning. As the bill arrived and they calculated how to split it up, Elise proclaimed the brunch a success and insisted they must make brunching a regular occurrence. Jamie rolled her eyes but agreed it had been fun.
“Why stop at just brunch? Do you guys want to go shopping?” Jamie asked. “I’ve been wanting to check out the stores on Michigan Avenue, and it’s so nice out today. Might as well take advantage of it before the infamous Chicago winter arrives.”
“Oh! I wish I could but I have a hair appointment,” Elise said. “I’m trying to find a good stylist in town and this girl comes highly recommended. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“I’ll go with you,” Whitney said. She loved shopping, and walking around a bit was probably not a bad idea after the mountain of carbs she had just consumed. Jamie was right about the weather, too. It would be a shame to waste this warm September day.
* * *
Ninety minutes later, Whitney felt her head spinning, and it was not a leftover effect from last night’s ill-advised wine binge. She had heard that the shopping on Michigan Avenue was intense, but following Jamie through Burberry, Gucci, and Neiman Marcus had been a shopping trip unlike any she had experienced before. The array of merchandise was dizzying, as was the shock of peeking at the price tags. Jamie seemed to not notice the small fortune she was spending as she nonchalantly handed over her credit card at each store.
Jamie chatted almost nonstop, which was a bit surprising to Whitney. Elise usually did most of the talking, but, without her around, Jamie easily filled in the empty space. She talked about growing up in New York, where her dad was an investment banker and her mother served on the boards of several nonprofit organizations. Jamie did not have a strong New York accent, and Whitney suspected it was because she had spent every summer of her childhood with her grandparents in Iowa, where her mother had grown up. Jamie had gone to Dartmouth for her undergraduate degree, and had majored in sociology. Inspired by a desire to see a different part of the country, she moved to Louisiana after graduating to intern with a nonprofit organization. She ended up on a project to help victims of Hurricane Katrina. Jamie was a fascinating personality. She easily spent hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars on a single afternoon’s shopping trip, yet she had worked with some very poor people to make their lives better.
They ended up at J.Crew because Jamie wanted to pick up some cheap essentials. Whitney saw a price tag on a t-shirt that read $49.50, and could not take it anymore.
“Seriously, Jamie! Am I the only one at this law school who isn’t swimming in money? This is what you consider cheap? How can anyone afford this stuff?”
Jamie, who was holding several tank tops, paused to look at Whitney. To Whitney’s surprise, she apologized. “I’m sorry. I know it’s ridiculous. It’s just hard, when you grow up with a dad who makes millions of dollars a year. You don’t even see the price tags anymore. I should know better, after all the work I did in Louisiana with so many people who had nothing.”
There was an awkward pause, and when Whitney did not say anything else, Jamie said, “I’m guessing you did not grow up with a dad who made millions?” Whitney still did not speak, but the answer was obvious.
“It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. I don’t mean to make light of the fact that I grew up privileged. But, my dad was never home. He never spent time with us. That’s why my brother and I spent every summer in Iowa. He gave us whatever stuff we wanted, but he was never there. Even though I never ask for money anymore, I have this credit card that they insisted on giving me for emergencies. They pay the entire balance on it every month, no matter what I charge. But I haven’t seen my dad at all since last Christmas, even though I went home to New York this summer.”
Whitney sighed. “I just feel like I don’t fit in here. I get it, there are more important things in life than money. But I feel like everyone here has money. Everyone here went to an Ivy League. I just can’t keep up with the lifestyle or the expectations.”
“I don’t think people care whether you’re wearing Gucci or not.”
“Maybe not, but that’s not even the problem! Do you know the real reason I didn’t want to go out last night? Because I was worried about how much I might end up spending. I always have to think about this. Everyone else just hands over their credit card and doesn’t give it a second thought! And when I try to stop drinking so I don’t spend more money, people start pressuring me and calling me a wet blanket. What am I supposed to do? Awkwardly explain to everyone that I would love another drink but I can’t afford it?” Whitney could feel her face heating up from a combination of frustration, anger, and embarrassment. This was not exactly the kind of conversation you want to have in the middle of a J.Crew store.
“Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. You should have told Elise, though. She would understand. We can go to less expensive places, and we can make sure you’re not being pressured to spend more than you want.”
“I’m not sure Elise would understand, actually. I mean, at least you have spent time around people who literally have no money at all. I’m not sure she ever has. And she practically brags about the fact that her parents are still paying for everything, even though she’s closer to thirty than twenty!”
“I think she talks about that all the time because it makes her feel insecure, not because she’s proud of it.”
“Maybe.” Whitney was feeling drained, which was the opposite of how she usually felt at the end of a shopping trip.
“Look,” Jamie said, “Regardless of where you or anyone else here went to school, or how much money anyone has, you fit in here. You’re smart, and you worked hard to get here. You’re a piece of this big puzzle.”
“Okay,” Whitney said, although she was not truly convinced. She was also not convinced that Ben would be comfortable dating someone on such a different rung of the social ladder, but she did not feel like discussing that with Jamie.
“Come on,” Jamie said setting down the shirts she had been holding and rearranging her giant shopping bags on her arms. “Let’s go get some frozen yogurt. My treat. I can finish this shopping another day.”
Whitney started to protest, but Jamie held up her hand.
“Nope, no arguing. I’ve dragged you up and down Michigan Avenue. You’re letting me treat you to frozen yogurt.”
Whitney smiled and shrugged, then followed Jamie out of the store to go search for a frozen yogurt spot. As they stood in line, Whitney glanced at her phone to see that she had a text from Ben.
Good Lord, does your head hurt as much as mine does today? It was worth it, though. I had a great time last night! See you in class tomorrow?
Whitney felt her heart leap. Maybe, just maybe,
Jamie was right and she did fit in. Maybe she should not dismiss the possibility of a relationship with Ben so quickly.
Had a great time, too! See you tomorrow! Whitney smiled as she dropped her phone back into her purse and started scanning the frozen yogurt flavors.
Chapter Eight
Whitney did see Ben the next day, and every day that week, but he gave no indication that their dinner and study session had meant anything romantic to him. He teased Whitney about studying with her again so that he could mooch off of her snack stash, but he did not attempt to make any specific study plans. Ben was one of the best-looking students at the law school, and Whitney was not blind to the efforts of more than one girl to catch Ben’s eye with perfectly coordinated outfits and flirtatious banter. Elise’s warning to snatch Ben up before someone else did nagged at the back of Whitney’s mind, but Whitney still held back. Her hesitation stemmed partly from pride and partly from fear.
The weeks wore on, and, as September shifted to October, everyone’s mood was beginning to shift, too. The excitement and newness of law school faded into a resigned existence of nonstop studying. Elise, Jamie, and Whitney spent most of their days huddled around one of the law school’s many study tables. Whitney had still not fallen victim to Professor Neals’ ruthless questioning, but she almost wished he would call on her in class so that she could just get it over with. Sometimes, she actually missed the days of sitting in a conference room and staring at badly formatted PowerPoint presentations. At least her old boss did not get a thrill from publicly humiliating her. The only one unafraid of Professor Neals was Lincoln. Several times a week, Lincoln would jump in to offer his thoughts on a case when Professor Neals finally decided that whichever poor student he was interrogating was hopelessly confused. Lincoln was always furiously typing on his laptop, whether he was studying assigned reading between classes, or transcribing every word a professor spoke during class.
With midterms looming, Lincoln’s prediction about the state of dress among the first year law students proved accurate. Whitney felt less out of place now, as designer dresses and pricey shirts gave way to comfy jeans and hoodies. Granted, some of those jeans probably cost more than Whitney’s clothing budget for the year. But even expensive jeans somehow felt less intimidating than a dress that looked like it was fresh off the runway. Lincoln, of course, continued to wear a suit to class every day.
Thankfully, Whitney’s first experience with speaking in class came not from Professor Neals, but from Professor Chaplin. The case involved the infamous Erie doctrine, one of the more confusing elements of Civil Procedure. Professor Chaplin tried to guide students to the right answer instead of intentionally confusing them, and Whitney managed to stumble through his questioning with her dignity reasonably intact. She felt relieved and a little proud of herself. Unfortunately, Jamie and Elise had a meeting right after class, so Whitney could not rehash her performance with them right away. This disappointed her, but she replayed her answers in her mind as she took her time gathering up her books. As she smiled while thinking about an answer she thought was particularly clever, she looked up to find Ben standing in front of her.
“Nice job, Whit,” he said, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. Whitney’s whole body felt as though it had been jolted with an electric current at his touch. He was wearing relaxed jeans and a fitted t-shirt. He had grey pea coat draped across one arm, and a leather messenger bag slung across his chest. He looked like he had just stepped out of a J.Crew ad, which Whitney could vouch for because she had been stalking the J.Crew website for sales since her shopping trip with Jamie. Whitney tried to admire Ben’s well-defined biceps without being too obvious.
“Thanks,” she said, keeping her voice light. “I’m just glad my first time getting called on in class was not with Professor Neals.”
“No kidding,” Ben said. “Can you believe I still haven’t been called on in any of our classes?”
“No way, really?” Whitney said, feigning ignorance. She was well aware of this fact. She hoped every day that Ben would speak in class, but, so far, he had been silent. She wondered how well he would hold up under Professor Neals’ questioning.
“Yeah. I’m dreading it. You did great, though. Really nice job. If only you had kept your word about studying with me, maybe I would be more ready for next week’s midterms.”
Whitney felt her heart leap at Ben’s mention of studying with her. She wanted to tell him that she would study with him all day, every day, but she tried to maintain a little self-respect. “Well, if I remember correctly, I didn’t promise to study with you. You promised to study with me, and eat all of my snacks. Not sure exactly what I’m getting out of this deal.” Whitney raised her eyebrows at Ben. He laughed and squeezed her arm again.
“Fair enough. But seriously, if you’re ever spending the afternoon studying in the library and want some company, let me know. Lincoln is fun to hang out with, but sometimes he drives me crazy as a study partner.”
“Yeah, I bet. I don’t know how you can stand to listen to his constant typing all the time.”
Ben laughed. “Headphones are key! Look, I’ve got to run, but don’t be a stranger. Let me know if you need another Friday night study date.”
Ben winked at Whitney and turned to leave the room. She followed him with her eyes until he was gone, admiring his well-toned physique. Where was he finding the time to work out? There was no way anyone looked that good without at least some effort. As she finished gathering up her books, she tried to figure out what Ben meant by his invitation to study together. There had been a definite note of flirtation in his voice, but Whitney had seen him acting flirty with other girls, too. It was hard to tell whether he was just being his normal flirtatious self, or if he was hinting at something more.
As Whitney left the room, she found herself face to face with Kate, who was blocking her path down the hallway.
“Nice job butchering the Erie doctrine. You’re lucky Professor Chaplin went so easy on you.”
Whitney was taken aback by Kate’s sharp tone and rude comment. Did Kate make a point of insulting everyone after they had to speak in class? Whitney was sure if Elise was here she would have had a few choice words for Kate. Elise had been side-eyeing Kate since Kate had insulted her on the first day of class.
Kate took advantage of Whitney’s stunned silence and continued. “I’m surprised Ben even takes the time to talk to you. Maybe he feels sorry for you with all your cheap outfits. Seriously, where did you even find those jeans?” Whitney looked down at her H&M jeans and made a mental note to tell Jamie that some people did care that she was not wearing Gucci. Whitney hated to admit it, but Kate always looked stunning.
“Give it a rest, Kate,” Whitney said. Her face was heating up with embarrassment, and she was glad the hallway looked deserted. She did not want anyone else witnessing this exchange. With every fiber of her being, she was thankful that Ben was not here right now. Then she thought of all the times Kate had flirted with Ben, and she wondered if Ben was interested in Kate. She felt her face heating up even more. Whitney did not consider herself bad-looking, but she was no match for Kate in the beauty department. Kate was the epitome of a blonde bombshell.
“I’m just saying,” Kate continued, “If you don’t want embarrassingly low grades in Civil Procedure, you better step it up. This is the big leagues, Whitney. You can’t half-ass your way through stuff like you did in class today.”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I didn’t half-ass my way through anything. I think I did fine. Professor Chaplin seemed to think so, too.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “He’s too nice. Just wait until you get your grades back. You’ll see what I’m talking about. Elite law firms only hire people with good grades, so good luck with that.”
Whitney could not believe that someone who was presumably an adult could act so immature. She was not sure how to respond, but Kate saved her the trouble by rolling her eyes again and walking away. What a bitch, Whi
tney thought. She could not stop herself from wondering, however, if Kate was right. Whitney felt confused about a lot of things in Civil Procedure class, but just dismissed it as a natural part of learning something new and unfamiliar. What if she did get horrible grades on the midterm and final? Whitney felt shaken up by the exchange. All of the joy over her conversation with Ben had seeped away, replaced by a feeling of dread about her lack of legal knowledge.
Whitney glanced at her watch. She knew that Professor Chaplin held official office hours for an hour directly following class, and she still had plenty of time to swing by and catch him. She decided to go talk to him. He seemed approachable, and she hoped he could give her some reassurance. Whitney made her way to his office and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Professor Chaplin bellowed, and Whitney timidly opened the door to his large office.
“Hi, Professor. I just, um, had a few questions about the Erie doctrine.” Whitney was not sure what questions to ask. Her real questions had more to do with whether Professor Chaplin thought she had a chance of making it as a lawyer.
“Whitney!” Professor Chaplin said. “Come on in! Great job in class today.”
“Really?” Whitney asked. She was wary of his praise after Kate’s claim that he was just being nice.
“Yes, really. I’m impressed with your understanding of Erie. Did you have more questions about it?”
“Well, not specifically. It’s just that I don’t feel like I understand it. I feel like I don’t understand much of anything, to be honest. I’m worried about midterms.” Whitney shrugged, unsure of how to articulate what was bothering her.
Professor Chaplin nodded. “I see,” he said. “Is there anything in particular that has made you feel this way?”
Whitney shrugged again, feeling foolish. How could she possibly explain to Professor Chaplin that it felt like all of her peers here had a head start on her in this race? She had always worked hard, and had always done the best she could with whatever cards had been dealt to her. But she felt like everyone else here had been dealt a perfect hand. She was tired of feeling like she was the one who made it against all odds. She just wanted to feel like she fit in.
