Chapter Six
STUDY GROUP
Amy Carter's first two weeks of study at Yale Law School passed by in a breeze... A very strong, hurricane-like breeze.
Her workload was intense and already she was having difficulty keeping up with everybody else - it was all just so different compared to Monash University in Melbourne. The main difference - apart from the strange and varying American accents - was the lecturers. Back home, Amy found her lecturers to be extremely encouraging and supportive, but the lecturers at Yale, however, didn't seem to show the same support. At least, not what Amy nor Pippa nor Nick could see. Amy was from Australia and the lecturers at Yale Law School seemed to discriminate against such a fact greatly. Especially Mr Moraan.
"I'm not even going to ask you for the answer - I can't stand the way you lot speak!" he'd told Amy just the other day. Mr Moraan had asked the class a question on the inquisitorial system of trial compared to the adversary system of trial, and Amy had been one of the first to raise her hand. But, after the rude comment from the lecturer, Amy hadn't bothered raising her hand for the rest of the lecture... or any others of Mr Moraan's that followed.
And, of course, Nick and Pippa weren't helping with the situation. Instead, throughout and in between sessions, they would each drone and swoon to Amy about how in love they were. And Amy was getting sick and tired of it all.
"Pippa's so gorgeous!"
"How hot is Nick!" (Obviously Pippa had not implied this to be a question.)
"Have you seen the way her hair shines in the sun?"
"Don't you love how his stunning grey eyes look right into your heart when he looks at you? And his voice! God, he's so sexy!" Pippa had swooned only hours ago to Amy through their only lecture that they had together.
"Pippa! Shut up!" Amy had whispered angrily whilst the lecturer - not Mr Moraan, but Ms Sprague - was still talking. Amy's hand was like a machine as she tried to write down everything Ms Sprague was saying about the different legislative processes.
"Amy?" Pippa asked in shock. It wasn't like Amy to get angry. Well, not for the time Pippa had known her.
Amy continued to take notes for another moment. "I'm sick of all this Pippa, just go tell him how you feel - he's in love with you too." Amy wasn't sure if she was supposed to share that last part, but in truth, she was glad that it was out in the open.
"Really?!" Pippa asked in a euphoric voice - much more glee than when she would swoon over Nick. "Are you serious, Amy?"
"One hundred and ten percent. Now, shut up!" Amy was frustrated and she had no patience for Pippa at the moment - Ms Sprague was moving along fast.
Soon enough, only about halfway through the session, Pippa was collecting her things - laptop, notebook, pens, etc. - and was shoving them hurriedly into her bag. Much of it was spilling out over the top.
"Talk to you later!" she called to Amy, but all the class would have heard. Pippa whizzed past Ms Sprague as she was now drawing a large and complex diagram to support what she was saying.
Ms Sprage stopped what she was doing and watched as Pippa dropped all her things as she was exiting through the door, smiling as she watched her reluctantly collect her things again.
"Miss Carter, what was all that about?" Ms Sprague smiled as she recommenced writing on the blackboard.
Amy was still in a crabby mood. "I have no idea."
Ms Sprague left it at that and continued the lecture. And, though Amy tried as hard as she could to keep up with her lecturer, she felt as though it were all going in through one ear and straight out the other.
* * *
When the day was done, Amy went back to her dormitory to catch up on anything she'd missed or didn't understand. She hadn't seen Pippa for the rest of the day, and Nick didn't show up to the sessions he was scheduled to have with Amy. They were both obviously together, and Amy was dreading to find them both back in her dormitory.
She walked the busy corridors, dodging any oncoming students, with her arms full of textbooks and her plain shoulder bag full of folders and her laptop computer. Thankfully, she didn't drop anything, though one of her books did slip from her grasp and a passer by caught it with his quick reflexes.
"Thank you," Amy called, but he was already gone, lost in the crowd.
She sighed. Again, people weren't talking to her. Pippa and Nick were the only ones who spoke to her, but when they did, they would swoon about each other to a point where Amy would get a headache. But nobody here wanted to befriend her - she had a funny accent and she spoke in strange slang that others thought was ridiculous. No one could stand talking her her for longer than what was deemed necessary. And that greatly hurt Amy.
Already, she wished she were home. Yale was high school all over again. The teasing, the bullying, the mocking. But this time, it wasn't because of the fact that Amy was labelled a 'nerd'. No, this time it was because of her background, her heritage, her nationality. And none of that could ever be justified, not to anybody.
She climbed the many flights of stairs until she came to her corridor. She walked its entire length and then turned onto another one and eventually came to her door.
Amy turned the doorknob. It was locked. Pippa mustn't be in yet. Amy pulled out her own key and unlocked the door before entering her abandoned dormitory, closing the door behind her.
She heaved a great sigh as she threw her keys at random somewhere in the room. The light sound echoed. Amy lumped her textbooks on the nearest table, again, the sound echoed.
And already, the echoes were doing her head in.
She pulled out one of her folders and then grabbed the corresponding textbook before sitting on the couch. She read over what her lecturers had spoken about that day, trying to absorb it all into her mind.
But the clock's ticking was becoming louder. The leaking sink was dripping extra loud. The cars on the streets were becoming more and more noisy. And then, Amy cracked.
"ARGH!" she screamed, though nobody would be listening.
She grabbed her things, threw them all into her bag, and after finding her keys under the couch, she stomped out of the room, locking the door behind her.
Amy didn't know what she was doing - she just knew that she had to get away from her dormitory. It was the last place she wanted to be. She wanted to be home, living life as she always had.
But she couldn't go home. Not yet.
Amy continued stomping through the corridors, but no one seemed to find her behaviour anything interesting to focus on. She turned into other corridors when she felt like it. She turned around and changed directions when she felt like it. She stopped at doors when she felt like it. And eventually, she entered one.
"The library," Amy whispered to herself, satisfied at where she'd ended up. She wouldn't be able to find her way back to her dormitory easily, but at the moment, all she wanted to do was sit down in the library. Here, she was certain that she'd be able to study.
Amy opened the grand doors to the library and found that it was much quieter than in the corridors. The large room smelt of parchment and ink and books and magazines and all other things that made Amy feel more at home. Many students were catching up on study they missed, or things that they didn't understand. But these same people were those who discriminated against Amy.
Her smile vanished.
Amy found an empty booth to the east of the room, near a large range of reference books. She sat at one end and pulled out her books and laptop. She started up her computer as she started reading through her textbooks again. And unlike in her dormitory, Amy found it increasingly easy to study with other people around her. It made her feel not so alone, and made her feel like others were in her same situation.
Minuites passed. And these minutes turned into hours. Hours that Amy felt like herself. Hours that Amy could think for herself.
Someone cleared their throat, but Amy ignored it. Nobody would want to talk to her.
Moments passed.
That same person cleared their throat again. Amy looked up to see who it was - they were distracting her from her work.
Amy's hazel eyes met with deep brown ones of a young man. A man of age no more than twenty-five, was the rude person distracting Amy from her study.
She gave him a look for she didn't want to speak to him. If she spoke, she'd surely be mocked by this stranger. It was a questioning look Amy gave him, a look asking what he wanted.
"Do you mind?" he asked, his voice wasn't deep and it wasn't high - it was somewhere in between - and very smooth. The man directed to the empty seat opposite Amy.
The other booths must have been full. Amy shook her head.
"Thank you," the man replied in that smooth voice again. He sat down opposite Amy and started studying his own textbooks.
Amy went back to her own study, not saying one single word.
Convincing Amy
© stephii 2010