“And if that’s not draining enough,” another attorney said as he smeared cream cheese on a bagel, “that next Monday is bar results day.”
Ari swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. As if any of them could forget the day looming over them.
Keisha nodded. “Hal usually starts class around ten on the day bar results come out. I would tell you all not to check the website until you get home, but there’s no chance of that.” She grinned as if remembering her own experience.
“So all I can say is no matter what, keep your chin up. Hold it together and don’t puke.”
“The don’t puke part is probably more important than you think,” the male attorney added. “If I were you, I’d skip breakfast. But that’s because I saw a kid blow chunks our year and haven’t been able to eat oatmeal since.”
Ari dropped the bagel she was eating onto her paper plate when the visual turned her stomach. To be fair, the fear of failing hadn’t helped her appetite much either.
“What happens if you don’t pass the bar?” Yelena asked, her neck flushed as she picked at her nails under the table.
“Despite what it might feel like at the time, you won’t drop dead,” Keisha replied with a gentle smile and kindness emanating from her dark eyes. “Like ten people in our class didn’t pass. The o ce will find something for you to do until you can pass it the next time.”
“What do you mean something to do?” Yelena followed up.
Ari tightened her jaw. She wanted to signal to her to stop showing so much of her fear, but she didn’t want to risk passing her a note and making her feel worse. Her nerves already seemed so frayed.
The male attorney responded before he’d finished chewing. “They’ll make you a law clerk or give you some kind of sta position. It’s not the end of the world. If you sit for the test again in February and pass, then you start with the next class. It’s a much smaller group, but you’re an ASA just like anybody else and no one’s gonna judge you.”
Yelena looked like she had another question, but Ari willed her not to speak it out loud. She was positive the girl was going to ask what happened if someone failed twice.
Mercifully, she just nodded and relaxed back into her seat.
Ari reached over, giving her forearm a quick, encouraging squeeze. Yelena looked at her with a lopsided smile expressing her gratitude, but she didn’t stop picking at her cuticles.
After a few more questions, they gathered and headed for their morning court observations. As they filed into the elevator, the scent of Sloane’s obnoxious perfume choked the air from Ari’s lungs.
Usually, Ari paid attention to where Sloane was going so she could position herself as far from her as humanly possible in the confined space. Today, she’d been distracted by thoughts of the bar and hadn’t noticed she’d walked in right in front of her until it was too late.
Every time another person crammed into the elevator, Ari was pushed further into the corner, and Sloane, who was typing on her phone, kept backing in closer and closer.
For shit’s sake, how many extra people did we pick up?
In the two weeks they’d been following the same routine, Ari had never felt so claustrophobic. As she glanced around the space franticly, she couldn’t identify any additional
passengers. It was just the same fifteen trainees it always was, but she was sure she was being crushed.
When Ari’s back hit the wall, Sloane’s heel dug into her big toe. “Hey, watch it!”
Sloane moved her foot as she glanced over her shoulder.
“Sorry,” she muttered before doing a double take and slipping her phone into her pocket. “I didn’t see you there,”
she added, turning to face her.
In that moment, Ari hated the four-inch height advantage Sloane had. She used it like
a weapon to make Ari feel younger and weaker. As if being born on stilts had any e ect on their relative abilities. They were lawyers, not basketball players in a slam-dunk contest. Ari’s lip twitched. She hated feeling small.
Sloane, in a tailored, cream-colored dress, moved closer despite the lack of any available space between them. Her bare knee grazed against Ari’s thigh, but Ari resisted jerking away. Instead, she maintained eye contact and refused to yield an inch.
Leaning in to whisper, Sloane’s hair brushed against Ari’s cheek. “How many of these people do you think are going to fail the bar?”
“What?” Ari snapped in her regular speaking voice.
Ari felt Sloane’s smile even though she couldn’t see it.