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Authors: Diana Minot

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BOOK: Personal Jurisdiction
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“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.

“You have been successful in your education up to this point, so what makes you think it will be any different now?”

“I don’t belong here!” Whitney said. “I didn’t go to an Ivy League school. I don’t come from money like everyone else around here. I don’t know what to talk about with these people. I can’t go out with them on the weekends without worrying that I’m going to blow my budget. This is supposed to be the American dream, right? Work hard enough and you can achieve greatness. But what’s so great about being a slave to student loans? What’s so great about spending your life fighting for a good education, only to worry you might not even get a job? And without a good job, how will you pay off your loans? Or, for that matter, how will you eat? I seem to be the only person here who has to worry about these things. How am I supposed to focus on learning law when I have so many other things to worry about? Nothing has ever been handed to me. I’ve fought for everything I have. Everything. And I’m tired of fighting. I just want to quit.” Whitney slumped down in her chair as she finished her tirade and bit her bottom lip, willing herself not to cry. She had just made a fool of herself in front of Professor Chaplin, but she did not care. She wanted to forget this small fragment of her life had ever happened and just go back to Texas and back to the days of awful PowerPoint presentations.

“Well, quitting would make it easier in the short term,” Professor Chaplin said. He looked unfazed by Whitney’s outburst. His voice was kind, but firm. “But I think you’ll find, if you stick with it, that it’s worth it in the end. Storms always feel permanent when you’re going through them, but after they are over you can see what a small blip on your life’s radar they actually were.”

Professor Chaplin paused, but Whitney said nothing. He continued, “I know it can feel like you don’t fit in because you don’t have expensive clothes or an Ivy League degree. I know because I’ve been there. My dad worked retail and never finished high school. My mom was a homemaker. I was in a similar situation to you when I started law school. I thought I stood out like a sore thumb. I felt shortchanged, like everyone except me received cheat sheets on how to succeed. But the truth, as difficult as it is to believe, is that most people do not notice where you came from. They are more concerned with where you are now. And where
you
are now, Whitney, is at one of the best law schools in the country. So focus on that. You are just as capable as every other student here of succeeding, and of getting a good job and having a successful career. I think you’ll also find, if you open your eyes, that you are not the only one here who has had to fight. We all have battles to face. Focus on overcoming your own challenges, not on how much easier everyone else has it. If you do that, you’re going to be just fine.”

Whitney still said nothing. She was surprised to learn that Professor Chaplin, one of the most prominent Civil Procedure scholars in the country, had come from humble beginnings. As she listened to his advice, she felt a little ashamed. Although it was true that she had much less support than many of her classmates, she knew she was capable of doing well in law school. She had an opportunity to work hard and change her life for the better. She did not want to waste it by feeling sorry for herself. She looked up at Professor Chaplin, who was patiently waiting for her to respond.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “Okay. You’re right.”

Professor Chaplin smiled kindly. “Good. Now that we’ve that settled, was there anything you wanted to ask me about Civil Procedure?”

Whitney smiled back at him as she picked up her book bag to leave. “No, thank you. I think you answered my question.”

Chapter Nine

 

As she exited Professor Chaplin’s office, lost in thought, Whitney collided with another student in the hallway.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” she said, and then looked up to realize it was Alex. “Alex! Where have you been? I’ve barely seen you lately. Are you just not coming to class anymore or what?”

“I was holed up for over a week with strep throat. Ben has been following me around dousing our apartment with Lysol in an effort to avoid catching it. That man is a serious germophobe.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve missed having you around, making fun of people all the time. Are you feeling better?”

“Much better! In fact, I’m going out drinking tonight. Lincoln found a bar that has Tuesday night specials on margaritas. You should come!”

Whitney made a face. “Chicago margaritas? No thanks. Did you forget I’m from Texas?”

“Come on, Whit. I miss you! Come out for one last hurrah before midterms. It’s in Lakeview, not too far from your place.”

Whitney was learning that one benefit to living in Lakeview was that nights out often revolved around bars in Lakeview. There just were not that many good bars close to the law school. “Fine. But I have some major studying to do. This is the last time I’m going out before finals, so you better enjoy it.” Whitney wanted to ask if Ben was coming, but restrained herself.

Alex smiled and gave her a quick hug. “You’re the best! I’ll text you the address.”

 

* * *

 

Apparently, Alex was not the only one who had heard of the Tuesday night margarita specials. Whitney could barely see anything through the crowd as she stepped into the bar. It seemed like every young professional in Chicago was out tonight. Whitney got quite a few smiles from delicious-looking men in suits, which was a nice boost to her ego. She was careful not to hold eye contact long enough to spark a conversation, though, as she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. After a few minutes of searching, she spotted Lincoln and Jamie and fought her way to them through the mass of people. She felt relieved that she had opted for flats instead of heels. No one was going to be able to appreciate her shoes in such a crowded space, anyways, and it looked as though sitting down anytime soon was unlikely. She was still wearing the H&M skinny jeans that Kate had ridiculed earlier, but had dressed them up with a classy button-down tunic. Jamie, as usual, looked like her outfit had been put together by a personal stylist. Jamie was sipping a martini, and Lincoln was holding a beer.

“I thought this was margarita night,” Whitney said, gesturing toward their drinks. They both gave Whitney a disgusted expression.

“I don’t do tequila,” Jamie said.

Alex and Elise joined the group just in time to overhear Jamie’s scornful remark.

“But I just bought a round of margaritas for everyone!” Alex said. Lincoln accepted his margarita, not willing to turn down tequila if it was free. Jamie made another disgusted expression.

“Suit yourself,” Alex said. He winked at Whitney and handed her two margaritas. “Miss Texas, you get double the tequila fun, then.”

Whitney was feeling spunky. “Uh-huh. If you’re trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me, you’re going to be disappointed. Texans can handle their tequila,” she said. She smirked at Alex and then chugged the entire first margarita. Alex laughed and took Whitney’s empty glass from her, but Elise’s eyes were huge.

“Holy shit, Whitney. Are you shooting for a Disney theme song night?” Elise asked. They all laughed. Ever since Elise’s infamous drunken meltdown over the lack of Disney music on the jukebox, the group used “Disney theme song night” as a euphemism for getting raging drunk.

“Hey, great job in class today, by the way,” said Lincoln. “That was not an easy case, but you handled it well.”

“Thanks,” Whitney said, feeling her cheeks redden a bit from Lincoln’s praise. It was unusual for him to compliment anyone on their legal knowledge. “Apparently not everyone shares your opinion, though.”

“What do you mean?” Lincoln asked. Whitney gave them a dramatic account of Kate’s comments in the hallway, including Kate’s commentary on Whitney’s outfit.

“That bitch!” Elise said. “She’s just jealous because you’re way hotter than her, even though she wears expensive clothes.” Whitney appreciated the loyal compliment, but she was pretty sure that it was not true. Kate was one of the best looking women she had ever met.

“Don’t pay attention to Kate,” Jamie said. “She’s just jealous of you because you’re friends with Ben. Rumor has it that she’s desperate to snag him.” Whitney felt her back stiffen.

“Ben’s way too nice for that bitch,” Whitney said, then took a huge swig from her second margarita.

“Speak of the devil,” said Lincoln. Whitney turned and saw Kate approaching their group. Ben was following her and holding two margaritas.

“Who invited her?” Elise asked, although it was obvious Kate had arrived with Ben.

“Hi, Ben,” Alex said. “And, Kate, what a surprise.” Whitney noted with satisfaction that Alex did not say a
pleasant
surprise.

“I know! I ran into Ben on my way home and he mentioned the killer deals on margaritas here.” Kate turned and grabbed one of the margaritas out of Ben’s hand. “Cheers, everyone! I’m looking forward to a night off from studying!” Whitney conspicuously did not raise her glass for the toast.

“Is something wrong, Whitney?” Kate asked. Her expression was overly sweet. The kind of sweet you know is only concealing a poisonous core underneath.

“Everything is great,” Whitney said, and proceeded to drain the rest of her second margarita without breaking Kate’s gaze. The tension between them was unmistakable.

“Okay, Whitney, it looks like you need a refill, and I wouldn’t mind another drink myself,” Elise said as she grabbed Whitney’s arm and started dragging her toward the bar.

“That bitch!” Whitney hissed.

“I know,” Elise said. “I can’t believe Ben brought her here.”

“What’s going on, Elise? Are they a thing?” Whitney sounded desperate, and her eyes were filling up with tears. She tried to stop her emotions from taking over, but the tequila buzz she was getting did not help matters. The thought of Ben with Kate was overwhelming. So much for being a strong, independent woman.

“Okay, calm down, Hon,” Elise said. “Let’s just take a breather.” Elise dragged Whitney right up to the bar and tapped a large man in a polo shirt on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, sir. My friend here hurt her ankle and needs a place to sit down, if you don’t mind,” Elise said.

The burly man looked down from his barstool at Whitney’s feet and then eyed Elise suspiciously. “She looks fine to me,” he said, his voice loud and stubborn.

“I said the lady needs a seat! Now beat it! You too!” Elise said, jabbing his friend in the ribs. The burly man rolled his eyes but moved out of the way. His friend, looking confused and nervous, scurried after him. Elise took one of the barstools, and pushed Whitney toward the other one. “Sit!” she commanded, as she signaled the bartender for two more margaritas. Whitney did as she was told, slightly in awe of Elise’s audaciousness.

“I told you that you needed to snatch him up before someone else did,” Elise said gently as she handed Whitney another margarita.

“But how?” Whitney asked, her voice angry. “I have nothing to offer him. I have nothing to offer anyone here. How could I even hope to compete with Kate?” Whitney started sucking down her margarita at record speed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down. Take it easy,” Elise said. “The last thing you want to do right now is get drunk and make a fool of yourself.”

“I don’t even care,” Whitney said, slowing her pace but continuing to drink.

“Well, you might not care right now, but you will tomorrow when that tequila wears off. What is all of this about having nothing to offer anyone? You’re smart, you’re funny, and you have a kick-ass body. Plus, you’re way nicer than Kate.”

“But, I’m not the level of person he’s used to.”

“Is this still about your feeling like everyone here is richer than you?”

Whitney paused mid-sip and looked at Elise.

“Jamie told me how you feel,” Elise said. “Look, I have news for you: no matter how rich you are, there’s always someone richer. Besides, not everyone here is rich. You’re looking at the situation with selectively to confirm your own feelings of inferiority. And, honestly, it’s a little insulting that you think I would think less of you just because I have money and went to an Ivy League. Does that automatically make me a bitch, too, or something?” Elise crossed her arms and waited for Whitney to answer.

BOOK: Personal Jurisdiction
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