Page 56 of If the Stars Align
“Oh…um, yeah,” I respond, looking to my left. He’s busy pulling books out of his backpack, so luckily I don’t think he saw me flinch. “We were supposed to read chapters one and two.” I bite my lip. “It was kind of a lot.”
“Got it. Thanks,” he says, totally unperturbed as he turns to me. “Jeremy, by the way.” He reaches out his hand.
“I’m Sunny.”
“Sunny,” he says. “I like that.”
I’m about to thank him when he asks a follow-up question. “Is there a story behind it?”
I crinkle my brow. “Do you really want to know?”
Jeremy shrugs. “Yeah. That’s why I asked.”
I sit back in my seat. “Okay…well, my mom had no idea what to name me. So she decided to wait until I was born. As soon as she was admitted to the hospital, this awful storm took hold, and for seven straight hours she labored through the sound of howling wind, and rain, and thunder…”
She worried it was ominous. A sign that she was in over her head. How would she manage to raise me without a family? She never said as much, but I’m sure she wondered if she’d made the right choice.
“But the minute I was born, the sun came out.” I smile.
That’s when she knew we’d be okay.
Jeremy nods. “See? That’s a good story. And I never would have known unless I asked. ‘The important thing is never to stop questioning.’ That’s an Einstein quote,” he adds. “For the record.”
“Let me guess. You want to be a litigator, right?” I’m a littlemore relaxed now. At least my leg isn’t shaking anymore.
He laughs. “Wow. You’ve known me for three minutes, and you already have me pegged. I’m inquisitive, yes. I got kicked out of the main library yesterday for asking the reference librarian too many questions. Not the first time that’s happened to me, actually. At least they let me check out the book I wanted. Really good primer on astrophysics. I was up half the night reading it.”
“Astrophysics?You readthatinstead of our law homework? Why?”
He shakes his head. “I dunno. It was interesting?”
I’m still looking at him with a furrowed brow when our professor walks in. He’s easily in his seventies, and wearing a tweed sport coat with a sweater vest and slacks. His bifocals are sitting on the tip of his nose, and his white hair is sticking out in every direction. He looks like someone you’d cast to play a law professor in a movie. Unfortunately, this is very real. My right leg starts bouncing again.
There’s a low rumble of voices around the classroom as our professor holds the class roster at arm’s length and peruses it carefully. “Now. Who shall be my first victim?” he asks, rubbing his chin. He’s going to pick a student to call on, to engage in a discussion and ask questions about our homework assignment. The Socratic method, they call it. My worst nightmare. I’m terrified he’ll call on me.
Thankfully he doesn’t. But it’s a near miss, because he calls on Jeremy. What are the chances? I feel sorry for him. I wonder if the professor will get mad at him for not doing the assignment.
The pages of Jeremy’s untouched law treatise are still stiffwhen he cracks them open. He sets the book down in his lap. I guess he’s going to try to wing it. My heart is racing on his behalf. I look around the room, and all eyes are on him.
Then something incredible happens. The professor spends nearly thirty minutes grilling Jeremy about the chapters he didn’t read and, somehow, he manages to answer every single question correctly. Effortlessly. I read each chapter twice andstillwouldn’t have been able to give such thoughtful answers. Is Jeremy a genius? Or am I out of my depth?
When the interrogation’s over and the professor moves on to someone else (not me, thankfully) I realize that I’ve been clenching my teeth. I was obviously much more unnerved by the experience than Jeremy, who leans back in his chair, totally relaxed.
“How did youdothat?” I whisper to him after class. “You didn’t even read the assignment.”
Jeremy’s lips curl ever so slightly. “I just scanned the pages real quick while he was talking,” he says, nodding toward our professor. “Tried to figure out what he was going to ask next. No big deal.”
Well, this guy obviously belongs here. But what about me?
The jury’s still out.
“You have Torts next?” Jeremy asks as we pack up our things.
I nod.
“Cool,” he says, looking at his cell phone. “I have to call my girlfriend first, so I’ll meet you in there. Save me a seat?”
“Sure,” I say as he turns to leave.
