Raven's Flight

by Chrys Cymri - BooksGoSocial Fantasy P

  I could feel the situation degenerating quickly. The student was some girl I didn’t know. She was saying, “All countries should respect international law. The U.S. shouldn’t think that it can bully other countries.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore, and Eric, Josh and Dinesh weren’t here to keep me under control.

  I finally spoke, without raising my hand, and all eyes turned on me.

  “It’s really a simple concept,” I began, a bit sarcastically. “Let me explain. Foreign law has no place in a Supreme Court decision because it is not U.S. law. If Congress has implemented legislation adopting a treaty, then under the Constitution that treaty is the law of the land, and the Supreme Court can consider it. However, if the law in question is not part of U.S. law, that is, has not been adopted under the Constitution of the U.S., then the Supreme Court is wrong to even consider it. Could you imagine a situation where the highest Venezuelan court considers some random U.S. law? It would never happen. Why should the U.S. Supreme Court be any different?”

  Several people were looking at me, but it didn’t phase me. If anything, it fed me like oxygen fed a fire. This was how I rolled. My mother didn’t call me Fire-breather for nothing.

  I continued without pause. “Further, treaties are entered into by the executive branch and ratified by Congress. Therefore, if the Court considers and is persuaded by foreign law that has not been adopted in the U.S., it is unconstitutionally usurping power that, per the Constitution, has been delegated to the executive and legislative branches. Not to mention, just because a law is followed in other countries does not mean it is constitutional under U.S. law or should even be considered persuasive.”

  The professor then asked me, “What about international law and international custom? Should the Supreme Court consider that?”

  “The answer is still no,” I continued. “Unless the law has been adopted as U.S. law under the Constitution, i.e. by Congress and/or through a treaty under the constitutional process, the Supreme Court should not consider it.”

  The professor continued with his questions. “But what about the idea that all nations should respect this form of international order?”

  “Practically, it will never happen,” I said, self-confidently. “All nations act, and should act, based on their own national interests. As an American citizen, I want the U.S. government to act in American interests, not in the interests of foreign governments at my expense. And I certainly don’t want the U.S. government to make American interests subservient to some international order that may not benefit me. Do you think the Mexican or Syrian governments care about U.S. interests or the interests of some international world order? In any case, it’s predictable that all national governments act in their own interests. So we know what to expect. It’s called being a rational actor, for those of you who don’t remember your torts class.”

  Some other lame student in the first row spoke up then. “Well, the U.S. has more resources and should help other nations because it’s lucky to have more resources and more money.”

  “Really?” I asked, incredulous. I was getting more worked up. “If the U.S. merely gives handouts to other nations, they won’t be motivated to improve their situations. Anyway, do you think the people in African countries get any of the money and food the U.S. sends them? It all goes to the dictatorial governments. Throwing money at these countries does not improve the economic situation of those people.”

  Then I delivered the coup de grace. “And if we’re going to use finances and resources as criteria for assisting other nations, the Arab nations have the most money due to the oil industry, so why don’t they ‘assist,’ ” using my air quotes, “as you said?”

  There were a couple other Arab students in the class besides Tarek and Zara. They turned to look at me now. I also felt Zara’s eyes bore into the back of my head.

  A bunch of students were also looking at me with a look that said, “What the hell are you doing in this class if you think that way?”

  I didn’t care. To his credit, the professor was respectful and nodded. He went on to a different subject and my tension subsided. I started twirling my pen in my right hand; it was kind of a nervous habit. I was sort of a nervous person and was always moving, shifting my legs or moving my hands in some way.

  Jesus. If this is the best this country has to offer, we are totally and royally screwed.

  After International Law, I made it to Property on time. I struggled out of my backpack and sat down in a huff. Then I immediately stood up, since I would have to let Tarek pass by me to his seat anyway. I put my Property book down on the table and took out my laptop, plugged it in and turned it on.

  Tarek arrived then and walked past me to his seat. He looked at me and nodded in acknowledgement. I glared at him. Dude, we’re not friends, I thought. Then I realized that we had never properly introduced ourselves. As far as I was concerned, that certainly meant that I didn’t have to acknowledge his presence if I didn’t want to.

  For once Eric, who was already sitting in his seat, didn’t say anything. Thank God! I didn’t think I could take much more of his crap.

  Class had started and the professor was going over one of the cases that dealt with possession and property rights. I was still somewhat worked up from International Law class, and at the same time found it unbelievable that those students were all about reining in U.S. interests. Why? That made no sense. If you think the U.S. is so bad, then why aren’t you criticizing other nations for their human rights abuses and treatment of women?

  I tried to concentrate on Property now. It was difficult but I reviewed the portions of the case under discussion that I had highlighted while reading the day before.

  The case we were talking about now was about a landowner who had contracted with another party for the latter party to have rights to drill on the land. That party had found some valuable minerals on the land, and the main issue was whether the landowner or the other party had rights to the minerals.

  The professor called on Sorority Girl.

  “Well,” the girl began, “isn’t this an unconscionable contract?”

  “Oh my God,” I said, exasperated. Apparently, I had said that loudly enough for everyone around me to hear, because Tarek, Eric, Josh, Dinesh and the guy sitting in front of me all turned around and looked at me.

  “Isabeeeellll,” Eric said softly, trying to calm me down.

  I was not going to be able to hold my tongue. Especially since the girl speaking was SG, and she was a total waste of space.

  “What do you mean?” the professor asked SG politely.

  Geez, he is being way too polite. I clenched my left hand into a fist so hard that my nails were digging into my palm.

  “Well, I mean,” SG continued, “isn’t it unconscionable that the second party made the landowner sign this contract that makes him give up any rights to minerals or oil or anything else found on his land?”

  I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “That question is completely irrelevant,” I exclaimed, with disdain in my voice.

  Both SG and the professor turned their heads toward me.

  I continued. “You asked a contract formation question in a property class. For purposes of this course, and the exam, your question is completely irrelevant. First, the property exam is not going to include any questions on contract formation. We covered that in another class, maybe you don’t remember. Of course, when you’re a practicing lawyer in real life, you will have to recognize all of these issues but for purposes of this course, your question is a waste of time.”

  Take that, Tarek. If you didn’t think I was a jackass before, you certainly think so now.

  SG huffed but was silent. The professor seemed kind of dumbstruck, so I continued.

  “But if you want to talk about contract formation, then by all means, let’s talk about it. First, it’s a quid pro quo situation, so, unless we have other information, which we don’t here, both parties mutually agreed to a bargained-for exchange
and the landowner got money for selling the rights. It’s not like he gave them away. So we have no reason to think, based on the facts we have, that this is an unconscionable contract. Are you satisfied now?”

  The professor finally found his voice. “Thank you,” he said to me, in a way that closed the issue. Then he turned to SG. “Yes, we really have no indication that this was an unconscionable contract.”

  Toma, I mouthed silently.

  The discussion wasn’t over, however, because as soon as class ended SG came over to my desk. I had tried to whizz out of there but she caught me, backpack and purse in hand, walking away from my desk.

  “You’re a jerk!” she told me, as though that would have an effect on me.

  I looked at her full in the face. I was a good three to four inches taller than she. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Why did you say all that?” There was venom in her voice. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Tarek and my friends were all looking at us.

  “Because someone has to keep everything on track. This is a top-tier law school and you’re asking completely irrelevant questions. Jesus, how did you even get in here?!”

  “You think you’re always right!” she spat.

  “No, I don’t think I’m always right. I am always right.” I was going to leave but I had one more thing to say.

  “You don’t realize it, but my existence and the way I do things, while unfathomable and reprehensible to you, are necessary.” I glared at her. “Maybe one day you’ll get it, but I’m betting against it.”

  I grabbed my backpack and headed out the door. Josh came with me and Eric and Dinesh were waiting for us.

  “Isabel!”

  I turned around, dumbstruck. It was Tarek.

  I looked at him. “Yes?” I said, half-annoyed.

  “You forgot your jacket.”

  He was still at his desk. He took my jacket off my chair and held it out to me as I walked toward him.

  I was bothered at being so close to him. It was bad enough having to sit next to him in three classes fantasizing about kissing him.

  I took my jacket from him, making a point of not touching his hand when I took it.

  “Thank you.” I managed a half-smile.

  “Sure,” he said.

  I left then with my friends.

  “Dude, harsh,” Eric said.

  “What? I thanked him!”

  “No, not him! You were so harsh to Alyssa.”

  “Yeah, well, you know that’s how I operate,” I told him.

  “I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Isabel,” he said then.

  What did that mean?

  At home that night, I thought about Tarek again. I didn’t want to like him. And I didn’t want to be attracted to him. But he was making those two things exceedingly difficult for me.

  FIRST WEEK: SUNDAY

  It was finally Sunday. I had studied all day Saturday and a little Sunday morning. I was ready for a break.

  I drove to Lara’s apartment building and got there at around 11 a.m. Lara and her husband Patrick lived in old town Alexandria, quite a posh area with red-brick homes and downtown condos. There were also tons of restaurants. They both worked downtown, so that area was a good pick for them.

  Lara and Patrick lived in an apartment in an upscale building. I found a parking space right outside.

  Lara met me downstairs, at the main door of her building. We always greeted each other the same way, enthusiastically, as if we hadn’t seen each other in a long time.

  I hugged her tightly. She was the only thing keeping me grounded in this town.

  Lara and I really didn’t look a lot like each other. Lara was gorgeous, with our mother’s beautiful face. She had blue-gray eyes, courtesy of Mom’s Austrian father, and light brown/dark blonde hair. Her hair was thick and very curly. She often put lighter highlights in, and it looked incredible. She had an easy smile and her eyes danced all the time. She was a joy to be around. My mood always lightened instantly whenever I saw her.

  “How are you doing?” she asked me. “How are classes going?”

  “So far, so good,” I told her, except for this hot guy who is sitting next to me in all of my classes. I had no doubt that by the end of the day, I would be telling her all about him.

  “You look great!” I told her. “You highlighted your hair again. It looks awesome!”

  “Thanks!”

  We walked inside the building.

  “So how does it feel to have a day off today?” I asked her.

  “Oh my gosh, it feels great! I have to tell you about everything!”

  Being with Lara instantly lifted my spirits.

  We took the elevator to her apartment and Patrick opened the door for us.

  I adored her husband. They had met in undergrad; Lara studied Microbiology and Patrick studied Computer Science.

  Patrick’s family was German, and he spoke German fluently. I kept telling him that I could get him translation work if he was interested. But he had enough to do with his full-time job in software and making sure my sister didn’t go crazy during her residency.

  Lara was doing her internal medicine residency, specializing in infectious diseases. She was great dealing with people. I was an introvert and she was a total extrovert, just like our mother. She thrived on being around people. I usually found being around people tiresome and energy-sapping, although even I had to admit that I felt good around my law school friends.

  “That’s because they know you, and they’re on your intellectual level,” Lara had told me.

  Patrick was an introvert too, and he and I got along fabulously. Sometimes I wished that he had a single brother my age.

  Patrick was pretty tall, about six feet, with dark brown hair and blue eyes. Typical German, I always said to him. He also had what I called the German walk. His walk was ramrod straight, like he was doing a march. I could pick him out from a crowd a mile away because of the way he walked. We laughed about it all the time. Despite his German roots, he was a good sport.

  I greeted him now with a big bear hug.

  “So are we going to the pool or what?” he said.

  “Let’s do it!” Lara said.

  We had planned to sit outside by the condo pool since it was such a nice day. It was September and soon the weather would turn cool, at least, I hoped so.

  We changed and grabbed towels and snacks. Lara lent me some girly magazine, the kind that I only read when I was at the pool or the beach with her. I noticed an article with the title, “How to Make a Man Fall in Love with You” or some similar bullshit. I’m going to read this, I thought, for the hell of it.

  We settled down by the pool, lying back in our chairs. The pool usually wasn’t too crowded. I got the impression that this apartment building was populated by mostly old, retired people.

  “Oh man, this is the life,” I said. I was starting to totally relax.

  “I talked to Mom today,” Lara said then.

  I knew what was coming. There goes my good mood.

  “How is she doing?” I asked. I hadn’t spoken to my mother in at least two weeks. She would want to know how law school was going. I also hadn’t been to her house in at least three months. She only lived an hour away but the traffic on Interstate 95 was legendary, and sometimes it took me two hours to get to her house and two hours to get back. And that was unacceptable because I had designated the weekends as study time. I had no time during the week to read and outline, like the lame full-time students did.

  I still felt bad about not going to see her more often. I loved her, but I couldn’t stand the look she always gave me. She looked at me with sadness. I was sure that she was remembering my father, and why he had to die so young. And I was sure that she blamed me for it. I could see it in her face, in her eyes.

  “She’s doing all right,” Lara told me. Then she leaned toward me conspiratorially. “Mark apparently talked to her about moving in together, or getting married.”

/>   “Are you serious?!” Mark was my mother’s boyfriend. My mother never mentioned these things to me. Lara and Ariel were more her confidantes than I was. I had been very close to my father, and when he died I felt like part of my heart was torn out, the part that gave a shit about something. I figured that any world that could take him away from me was horrible. Given the general state of society, Millennials and all, I was right about how the world was. I was convinced that the only reason I was still here was to make sure that my mother and my sisters were okay. Everything else was gravy.

  And I couldn’t believe that Mark was talking to my mother about marriage. “What did she say?”

  Lara smiled. “She’s thinking about it.”

  “I can’t believe it.” I liked the idea of them being married. Mark was really good for her. He worried about her and was nice to her. And he loved her, I could tell. At first when he started hanging around, I told my Mom that he liked her. I knew then. A lifetime of nothing to do but observe people had made me pretty good at reading them.

  “I know,” Lara agreed.

  “I think your Mom likes the idea of being independent more than anything,” Patrick said then. “But I also think that she really loves him.”

  “Well, that would be awesome,” I said. Everyone would be married except for me. Lara was married. Ariel was living with her boyfriend and, eventually, they would get married. Oh well, I had the feeling that that was how it was supposed to be. I guess I would have to be content with being the crazy aunt.

  We talked for a while about Mom.

  “And she said that she’s a little worried about you,” Lara said then, with an apologetic look on her face for bringing up the subject.

  I sighed a long sigh. “What’s new?” I asked sarcastically. “I should go out more, I should date, I should have more friends, I should study less, I should stop scowling, I should stop cursing, I should join a singles’ group, I should have more fun, etc., etc.”