Law of Attraction

I

May 11-12th 2025

The smell of Mom's cooking drifts through the house, warm and comforting, like a familiar blanket. It's 6:00 pm, and the sun is just starting to dip behind the Seattle skyline, casting a soft, hazy glow through the kitchen window. A cool breeze slips in stirring the scent of smothered chicken, rice and cornbread. Finals week starts tomorrow, but for a moment, I can almost forget the weight pressing down on my shoulders.

Almost.

My fingers tap against the edge of the counter as I help set the table, trying to shake the nervous energy that's been building all day. Enoch is already at my side, balancing a stack of plates and looking more relaxed than I am. He's got no idea what it's like to face down law school finals—he's seventeen, with nothing bigger to worry about than swim meets and college applications. Lucky him.

I fix myself a plate, letting the aroma of seasoned chicken and gravy soothe me, just for a second. But as soon as I sit down, the feeling of calm fades, and my mind starts cycling through cases and statutes I need to have nailed down by tomorrow. It's the same edge I used to feel before debate tournaments back in high school—an almost obsessive need to get every argument, every point, airtight. But back then, at least I knew what I was up against. Law school is a whole different game.

Mom takes her seat across from me, smiling as she glances between Enoch and me. "How's the study schedule coming along?" she asks, scooping a generous spoonful of rice onto her plate.

I shrug, forcing a smile. "As good as it can be. Finals are tomorrow, so...you know, just trying to keep it all together."

Enoch grins, reaching for a piece of cornbread. "She'll ace it, like always. She's basically a study robot at this point."

I roll my eyes, but his confidence gives me a small boost. I'd never admit it, but I wish I could go into this week with that same easy optimism.

Mom hands Enoch the serving spoon and nods toward the chicken, signaling him to start. He digs in eagerly, piling his plate high with smothered chicken and rice, the cornbread crumbling slightly as he grabs a piece.

I take a sip of water, glancing across the table at my little brother. With his bright expressive dark eyes and his skin darkened from the almost summer sun. His hair, a mess of tight curls.

"Can't wait for summer," he says, already taking a bite. "No more tests, no more waking up at dawn—just me, the pool, and freedom."

Mom gives him a look turning her head away from her plate, her chin length bob silkily moving with her and eyebrow raised. Her elegantly sharp features still poised and graceful but serious.

"Except for those morning swim practices," she reminds him with a hint of a smile. "Eyes on the prize, Enoch. You know the college recruiters will be watching come fall."

He groans, rolling his eyes but smiling all the same. "I know, I know. But do I really need to sacrifice my entire summer for a chance at a scholarship? It's like they want me to live in the water."

I can't help but laugh, at his annoyance. "Look at it this way—endurance is a skill. You'll need it if you want to keep winning races and racking up those scholarship offers."

He shoots me a mock glare. "And is that the lie you tell yourself when you're stuck in a library all day for finals?"

"Touché," I say, rolling my eyes at him. It's a light-hearted jab, but his words sink a little deeper than he probably realizes.

Mom's watching us both, that familiar warmth in her eyes as she takes in our banter. "Hard work pays off. You know that better than anyone, Harmony."

And just like that, I'm back in high school—four years of balancing textbooks with debate prep, countless late nights spent hunched over assignments, all in the pursuit of that full ride. I remember the endless drill of study sessions and the pressure to maintain a flawless academic record. It wasn't easy, but it got me where I am now.