Once inside, they took their seats in the half-filled room, each going to their respective sides like boxers recovering for round two. Instead of dwelling, Ari chatted with her friends while Sloane stared at her cellphone.
The moment the room’s clock struck eight o’clock, Training Director Hal appeared in the doorway wearing an enormous straw sombrero.
“You survived your first two weeks!” Hal cried as he produced a set of maracas from behind his podium and shook them along with his shoulders. “Well, almost. But I have a feeling I’m not gonna lose anybody in the next eight hours.” He laughed when no one else did.
Ari gave him the most encouraging smile she could muster but was sure it was more grimace than anything else.
Her eyes darted toward Sloane just in time to see her mouth something
about
appropriation.
Second-hand
embarrassment flooded her body until Hal finally read the room and put away the props.
Several hours later, it was time for lunch and Ari couldn’t wait for a ca eine jolt. A presentation on jury selection had been more boring than she could’ve ever imagined. The occasional whi s of Sloane’s perfume she kept getting o
her own clothes wasn’t helping her concentration either. She couldn’t wait to drop the garment o at the cleaners to get out the stench of whatever overpriced fragrance Sloane used.
“We should do a happy hour.” Javon’s voice boomed, making it clear it was an invitation to everyone in the room.
“Since this is our last day before the great divide, we should celebrate. There’s a great pop-up dive bar in The Wharf.
Cheap drinks and a bunch of food trucks.”
“Count me in,” Ari replied, fishing a dollar out of her bag for a soda from the vending machine.
Voices chimed in over the muttering crowd. For the most part, everyone was into the i
dea. Sloane, however, slipped out of the room without a word.
As if she’d ever slum it with the people who are going to be her colleagues for at least the next three years.
Every minute that passed after lunch was an eternity. It was impossible to learn how to review juror questionnaires when all Ari wanted to know was where they’d spend the first year of their career. After an informal poll, she was pretty sure only about a dozen people signed up for DV, but she hadn’t asked everyone and there was no way to know if they were telling the truth. With how dreadfully boring Chad’s presentation had been, it was a surprise that anyone wanted to go. The County Criminal assistant chief had made prosecuting drunk drivers sound so much more interesting.
If DV hadn’t been her plan from the get-go, she would’ve changed her mind.
“Now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for,” Hal said as soon as the door opened and the two division chiefs walked in.
Ari’s heart raced, but she tried to keep her expression neutral. If she was disappointed, she didn’t want anyone to notice.
“Okay, since there are only fifteen of you coming with me,” Chad explained as he pulled a folded sheet of paper from his suit pocket. “I’m going to call out my team.
Whoever I don’t call is with Amy in County Criminal.”
Obviously, she thought, wishing he’d just get to the part she was waiting for with bated breath.
“Ari Vidal,” he called first.
Yessssss!
For the rest of the list, Ari was in such a daze she barely registered the names. Yelena was called a few moments after her and was happy she wouldn’t be lost to the frat house on her own. There was potential in her, but Ari worried she was too timid to survive.
She was still lost in her own world when Chad called the last name.
“Sloane Medina.”