Page 46 of Defend Me

“That’s stupid. You act like I’d be ashamed of you.”

His nose wrinkled briefly. “More like you wouldn’t want people to think you’re with me or something. They might make assumptions.”

“I don’t care about what people think, Tilian. As long as we’re on the same page here, I’m open to anything.”

“Anything?” he repeated, almost too quietly for me to hear it.

My teeth dug into my tongue for a moment. I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to say to that or if he even meant it that way. Instead of answering, I threaded our fingers and started walking.

As soon as we got to class, I winked at Tilian, then arranged the seat switch. Melissa didn’t seem to mind and when I invited Oliver over, he came without hesitation.

Dean walked through the door, then blinked a few times when he saw the change. Without saying anything, he sat down and started flipping through the pages of his textbook.

“Hey,” Oliver said.

Dean gave him a chin up. “What’s up?”

“Same shit, different day.”

“How original.”

The professor stood, so I leaned back and pulled out my laptop and textbook. I’d already read the whole thing, but I’d take lecture notes, then consolidate them with the ones I took while reading. It’d be a better study guide than anything he might provide.

In other words, it would be perfect.

*****

Where I’ll have to change out my skin

For what was probably the hundredth time since I got in my car, I sighed. I didn’t give a shit about this. I should, but I didn’t.

The door in front of me had a name plate that readWhitlock. What a pretentious name. It no doubt fit her perfectly. I imagined chestnut hair in a high ponytail without a hint of frizz or anything out of place. She probably wore a pencil skirt- black of course- and expensive shoes that weren’t worth the price. Her makeup wouldn’t be drastic, just the perfect amount to highlight her best features and cater to the men she’d encounter in her career- CEOs, judges, other attorneys, etc.

I turned my hand inward and knocked twice with my knuckles before I hid them away in my pockets. Quickly, I removed them so that I wouldn’t look unprofessional. I flexed my fingers in, then out. Once the door began to open, I relaxed them at my sides.

“Good morning,” Ms. Whitlock greeted with a smile.

Black pencil skirt, black heels that looked simple but cost at least five hundred dollars and, shocker, brown hair in an ultra-sleek ponytail. Spot on.

I gave her my most perfect smile. “Good morning. I’m Brooks Elrod.”

“Yes, of course. I’ve spoken with your mother. We’ve actually had a couple of interactions over the years.”

“It’s such a small world. She spoke highly of you.”

She put a hand on her chest. “That’s very nice of her. Come in, we can chat.”

When she turned around, I stretched out my mouth a little. There was going to be a lot of smiling throughout this conversation and I’d probably need a whole night to recover from it. Holding that expression was a pain in the ass, especially when it was during one of countless six-hour events I was required to attend growing up. Every time my lips wavered, my mom would shoot me a venomous look, so what did I do? I got really fucking good at smiling.

Ms. Whitlock had a couch in her office along with two armchairs. I took one of them and she sat in the other. Smoothly, I crossed a leg over my knee and folded my hands in my lap.

“You’re a freshman, correct?” she asked.

“Actually, I’m at the junior level.”

“Oh, that’s right. You only have another year and a half until law school, then.”

“That’s correct.”

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