tired and overwhelmed to think about conquering a new city just then. I turned to my borrowed bed and collapsed face down.
Sleep reached for me at once, and music drifted into my scattered thoughts.
I danced.
Are you down...?
Are you d-d-d-down...?
I smiled against my borrowed pillow. It smelled like laundry soap and the person who actually lived here. A stranger.
Soon it would smell like me.
Are you down, down, down...?
“Not yet,” I murmured, and slipped into sleep.
Chapter 2
Sawyer
Study Room #2 at UC Hastings College of the Law was silent but for the turning of pages and keyboards clacking. Students sat together in stuffed chairs, barricaded behind laptops and headphones.
My study partners, Beth, Andrew and Sanaa were on couches and chairs in our circle, bent over their work, nary a joke or smartass remark among them. I missed Jackson, but the bastard had the nerve to graduate one quarter ahead of me.
The relentless overhead fluorescents seared my tired eyes and made the text on the page in front of me blur. I blinked, focused, and took a mental snapshot of a paragraph of California Family Law Code. With the image firmly in mind, I put pen to a page in my notebook and wrote what I saw in my own words. To lock them down.
When I finished my notes, I leaned back in my chair and let my eyes fall shut.
“Hey, Haas,” Andrew said, a millisecond later. I could hear the smug smile color his words. “You going to sleep through the rest of the hour?”
“If you’d shut up, I might,” I said without opening my eyes.
He hmphed and sniffed but didn’t rejoin. Jackson would have given me a smart-ass remark back and we’d be off to races to see who could out-insult the other. Andrew was no Jackson.
“This Family Law exam is going to kill me,” Andrew groused. “Someone quiz me.”
“Section 7602?” Beth asked.
“Uh…shit.” I heard Andrew tap his pen on the table. “It’s right there…”
I smiled to myself. My focus was Criminal Justice, but since a certain Evil-Doer party ten months ago, Family Law had become my unofficial minor.
I mentally scrolled through my Family Law code photo album to section 7602, and recited, “The parent and child relationship extends equally to every child and to every parent, regardless of the marital status of the parents.”
Silence. I peeked one eye open. “Sorry. It’s one of my favorites.”
“I’ll bet.” Andrew snorted and took up his laptop. “Okay, let’s see what else you got, Haas.”
The others leaned forward with interest. It was a novelty, what I could do. Very little escaped the mental darkroom in my mind; names and faces, years-old memories down to the smallest detail; even whole pages of text—word for word—if I read them enough times. I don’t know how I ended up with a photographic memory, but thank God I did, or I’d never have made it through these last ten months. Not on three or four hours of sleep every night.
“What other section is applicable to Section 7603?” Andrew asked smugly. He was kind of an asshole. I think he thought he’d feel better about the incredible stress of law school if he stumped me. I never tried to make him feel better.
“Section 3140,” I said. I was kind of an asshole too.
“In 7604, a court may order pendente lite relief consisting of a custody or visitation if…?”
“A parent and child relationship exists pursuant to Section 7540 and the custody or visitation order would be in the best interest of the child.”
“Why do you even bother coming here?” Andrew groused and shut his Mac.
“To give you the answers,” I said.
The women snickered while Andrew shook his head and muttered under his breath, “Arrogant prick.”
“You’re wasting your time, anyway,” Sanaa said to him. “Sawyer’s memory is infallible.” She shot me with a knowing smile. “I’m sure he could go for days.”
I didn’t miss the double meaning behind her words, and the invitation behind her eyes. My body went warm all over, begging me to reconsider my rule. Sanaa was beautiful and smart; a new addition to our group when Jackson and another friend graduated last quarter. But I could’ve told her the same thing she told Andrew. She was wasting her time. My days of hooking up with random women were over with a capital O.
Beth didn’t miss Sanaa’s approving smile at me. She rolled her eyes at all of us. “We should name this group Dysfunction Junction.” She checked her watch. “Come on. It’s time to go.”
We gathered our shit,