Cum Laude | ✔️

Chapter VI: the Party

It's only a couple of weeks later until Dean Murphy's party. This is a professional party, not a fun party. If I was going to a party with my girls, I'd wear a tight, short dress and drop it like it was hot. But this will be faculty and law students. I wear a sleeveless black floor length dress - elegant and respectable.

Her house is a three-story brick mansion with a long winding driveway with most of the cars here are 6 figures. I can recognize my fellow students' cars. I park my pre-owned Civic and look back at it and wonder if I can still keep it when I get a job or if I will feel pressured into an "acceptable" car. This car has gotten me through a lot.

I ring the door and am greeted by a butler who shows me inside. Dean Murphy is in the foyer in a blue dress and pearls, holding onto a man's arm. A few waiters are walking around with food trays.

"Salina, welcome!" Murphy says." This is my husband, Mike Sanderson. Try some of the hors d'oeuvres and enjoy yourself."

"Thank you." I grab a tooth-picked shrimp off a nearby tray. "Nice to meet you, sir." He has white hair but a very similar face to Seth's.

Mike tells me a little about his practice. I love hearing passionate lawyers talk. The money is definitely an allure to practice law, but good lawyers need to draw on something real deep to face the hours and the losses.

I make the rounds to the people I know and introduce myself to people I don't. I try not to hang around Marta too much because the benefit here is meeting connections. There are quite a few lawyers from the city here. I even get the business card for one civil rights attorney that I will reach out to about my pro bono work.

Obviously, I need to know my shit to get a job, but I never knew how much networking matters to getting a job. My path is more difficult than some of my fellow students. Some firms will overlook a black woman, some want a diversity hire to show off how progressive their firm is, and even ones that will hire me for my talent will have at least one person on staff that will think I'm only hired due to my skin color, and I have to waste energy proving them wrong.

As the night goes long, I feel a little worn down from being "on" all night and also, I've consumed a lot of liquids (only a couple alcoholic ones, then water so I don't say anything tipsy I'll regret. The downstairs bathroom is occupied, so I take a moment for myself and run up the stairs. I know there must be another bathroom which I quickly find and relieve myself and give myself a couple minutes of peace and solitude.

Getting myself together, I open the bathroom door to leave. And run into Seth. He's wearing a gray shirt and pajama pants.

"Oh my God," I blurt out, startled. "Oh, hi. What are you doing here?"

"I live here," he says, and I feel like an idiot for asking.

"Sorry, the bathroom downstairs was occupied..."

"Hey that's okay," Seth says. "My parents throw parties a few times a year. I am not generally invited. Plus, it wouldn't really be fair to other students. I know how privileged I am. I don't want to get a job just because of my parents. I am lucky they can help me, but I want to do what I can on my own."

"Well, let me ask you a question, law student to law student...do you want to practice law? Your parents are both successful lawyers and judging by this house incredibly rich. Did they pressure you?" I ask. It's hard for me to imagine his life growing up in a house like this.

"No. I don't think so. I love my parents, and I don't remember ever wanting to do anything else. When I was a kid, I thought everyone became a lawyer. I never wanted anything else." He shrugs. "I know you must think my life is set. I don't want handouts. I want to earn my career just like anyone else. I want to help people too."

"Well, that's good to hear."

"What do your parents do?" He asks.

"My mama is a customer service manager. She likes working with people and talking to people. And my father is deceased," I say.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"He was shot in a drive-by when we lived in a rough area. Going to court every day and the relief I felt when the thug who shot him was convicted really made me want to help others get their justice too." My cheeks feel hot. That was more than I wanted to reveal.

Then things are quiet for a moment. We're just looking at each other. My back is pressed against the wall, and he's standing close to me. I can feel his breath against my cheek. I try to think of something else to say and can't.

It crosses my mind that his bedroom is right nearby, and no one would even notice if I didn't return to the party right away. It's secluded up here. We wouldn't even have to be silent. No one would hear us.

I feel an ache in my chest. My body wants to give in. I want him to lean in and kiss me. But I can't. I know I can't. Is it just the thrill of the forbidden? Or is there something there, a deeper attraction, that I have to deny?

My knees feel weak, like I can barely stand. But I force myself to look composed and keep my face expressionless. I clear my throat and break eye contact. "Well...I better get back. It was good talking to you, Seth."

"You too, Ms. Smith."

I almost ask him to call me by my first name but change my mind. I turn and stumble back down the stairs. The party is still going on as expected. No one seems to notice I was gone. But I made the right decision just now. The smart decision.

Then why do I feel so empty?

As I'm looking to see if any more party trays of food are making their rounds, I run into Marta.

"Hey, I haven't seen you in a while, and you just came down the stairs," she said with a slight tone to her voice. So, someone did notice.

"The bathroom down here was occupied so, you know."

"Remember that thing as your lawyer I am sworn to not talk about?" She asks, crossing her arms. "I'm advising you as your lawyer to not do anything stupid."

"I didn't! I haven't!" I protest.

"Just be careful," she says. "Now I want you to meet someone." We continue on as if nothing happened. Nothing did happen.

But I wanted it to.