[2013] Consequential Damages Read online

  Under normal circumstances, Jake would have stopped cold rather than risk further embarrassment. Tonight, however, he just didn’t care. With all the other fears gnawing at him, he was not fazed by a little embarrassment. What the hell, he thought, and he continued with the song. As he did, a striking young woman rounded the corner on the fourth floor landing and walked toward him down the stairs. She resumed her harmonizing, smiling at Jake as she approached. Jake finished the song with confidence, feeling that her singing enhanced his modest musicianship to a level he had never before achieved. As the final note reverberated off the stairwell walls, she clapped softly and smiled at him.

  “Wow! You’ve got an incredible voice,” said Jake, with genuine admiration. “Welcome to my studio,” he said with a slightly embarrassed smile, gesturing at the surrounding stairwell.

  “Thank you,” she replied. “You play beautifully. I’ve always loved that song.”

  “Me too, although I’ve never been able to figure out what it means. Landslide just seemed appropriate today, since my whole world is crashing down around me.” Jake immediately felt angry with himself for mentioning his troubles. This had been a nice moment, and he might have just ruined it with his self-pity.

  “Oh, come on!” the girl replied cheerfully. “How bad can things be? You look like you’re in good health. You’re a student here at Stanford, which means you’re a smart guy with a bright future. You are a student here?”

  “Yes—first year law school.”

  “Let me guess. Stressed out about finals?” she asked, taking a seat a few steps above him.

  “Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that,” replied Jake, giving her a brief account of the loss of his outlines and why they were so important to him.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. “It’s really disheartening to think that somebody around here would do something so low. But you know what? You’ll be fine. Get past the anger and despair and look at this logically. Isn’t that what lawyers are supposed to do? Just look at the facts. First, you must be an extremely intelligent person, or you wouldn’t have gotten into Stanford Law School.”

  “I don’t know about that. Sometimes I still think they made a mistake when they let me in,” said Jake, trying to be modest.

  “No they didn’t. You’re here because you deserve to be here. Fact Number Two: You kept up with your studies during the semester, right?”

  “Pretty well, I guess.”

  “Fact Number Three: You just told me you spent six weeks of very intensive work preparing your outlines?”

  “Yes. Wasted effort, I’m afraid.”

  “Not wasted at all. So here’s what it all adds up to: You’re a smart guy, you’ve been studying hard all semester long, and you just finished a very thorough review of your materials as you prepared those outlines. You could take those exams right now and you’d do just fine.”

  Jake was struck by her words. They made sense. More than that, however, he was struck by her presence. She was perfectly still as she spoke. She didn’t gesture, and didn’t move her head or her eyes, which looked directly into his, conveying a sense of confidence and wisdom. Although she was casually dressed in blue jeans and a white sweatshirt, she was extremely attractive. More than just pretty, Jake thought. Exotic. She was clearly of Asian descent, with lustrous black hair and deep dark eyes, but her complexion and facial features suggested Caucasian ancestry as well.

  Jake put his hand on his forehead and looked toward the ceiling. “God, I must sound pathetic. I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in my studies, and I’m surrounded by people in the same situation. It’s hard to look at things objectively. Sometimes it helps to talk with someone from the outside world to get some perspective. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she replied, seeming pleased that perhaps she had brought some comfort to him. “You know, in my opinion, spending too much time studying before finals can be counterproductive. There’s a point of diminishing returns. A lot of people put so much stress on themselves and get so exhausted with the preparation process that it actually impairs their performance come exam time. I believe you get more benefit from being well rested and relaxed than cramming in additional hours of study time at the end. There’s an old Chinese proverb that says When your mental faculties are put to a test, the state of your mind matters more than what’s in it.”

  “Really?”

  She laughed, a cheerful, hearty laugh. “No, not really. I just made that up. But there should be. Don’t sweat it. You’re going to do just fine, I’m sure of it. You should be, too.”

  “Thanks for the chat,” said Jake. “And the song. It really helped. By the way, my name’s Jake.”

  “Amanda,” she replied, with a warm smile, extending her hand. “Good luck on your finals, Jake. You'll do great. If I were you, I'd spend more time playing your guitar and less on last minute cramming. Bye.” Then she was gone.

  Tony walked into their dorm room a short time later, in search of some aspirin, and was stunned to find his roommate lying on the floor in front of their tiny television, watching an episode of The Andy Griffith Show. His jaw dropped. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

  “Watching Andy Griffith.” Jake replied, still staring at the TV. “This is a great episode. It's the one where Barney—”

  “Are you out of your mind? We don't have time for Barney Fife! Finals are eight days away! If there's anyone here behind the eight ball right now it's you.” His demeanor quickly changed from astonishment to concern. “You're not just giving up, are you? I know your outlines are gone, but that's no reason to throw in the towel.”

  “Do you believe in guardian angels?” Jake asked, turning away from Andy Griffith and looking directly at Tony.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I spent all day trying to decipher other people's outlines, and it turned out to be a hopeless task. By six o'clock, I had reached a point of total despair. I needed a break to collect myself, so I went to the back stairwell to play my guitar for a little while. So there I was, sitting in that dingy stairwell, a place where I’d never seen another human being, totally isolated from the outside world, when out of nowhere appears this beautiful woman. We sang a song together, and I told her about my plight. She talked through the situation with me and really helped me gain some perspective. Did you know that there's an old Chinese proverb that says something like ‘your state of mind matters more than what you've crammed into it?’”

  “Sounds to me like you've been hallucinating. Are you okay?”

  “I feel great. I'm more relaxed than I've been in weeks.”

  “I can't believe this! Last night you were on the verge of despair, and now you're cool as can be, reciting some Far Eastern mystic crap. Are you serious about this girl? Who is she? What's her name?”

  “Her name is Amanda, that's all I know. She's definitely for real. Relax, man, I'm not crazy. I'm fine.”

  “And you’re not giving up on finals?”

  “After all the work I’ve put in, hell no! I'm just planning on a more unconventional approach to my preparation, since I don't have much choice.”

  “Which is?”

  “I don't know yet. I'll figure that out tomorrow. Right now, I need to see if Barney and Thelma Lou get back together,” Jake said, turning back to the TV.

  Over the next week, Jake developed a new study technique. He walked. He ran. Occasionally, he would stop and rest at scenic spots. All the while, he reviewed his courses in his mind. Each day was devoted to a different subject, and with each subject, he tried to remember everything covered during the first semester. He approached it chronologically, starting with the first day of class and working all the way through the end of the semester. He used no notes, no books, and no outlines. The only written materials he referred to was a table of contents from his textbook and the course syllabus distributed at the beginning of the semester. This enabled him to identify all of the subjects covered and make su
re he hadn't forgotten any important topic. With that as his checklist, he tried to recall everything he could about each subject. To his surprise, Jake found that he had little difficulty remembering the essential points he had included in his outline, and often could visualize exactly what he had written in the outline on any particular subject. He was amazed at how much he was able to recall when he set his mind to this exercise.

  This routine served two purposes. First, it was an effective and methodical way of reviewing the course material and reinforcing his grasp of it, as well as how it all fit together. Second, spending time in the great outdoors under the California skies continued to have a positive effect on his mental outlook. Unlike the draining effect he experienced from long days and nights surrounded by the sterile walls and the fluorescent lights of the law library, his long leisurely trips around campus left him feeling relaxed and in good spirits.

  Another key element of Jake’s new approach to exam preparation was building rest and relaxation into his schedule. He forced himself to get eight hours of sleep per night, a luxury he had not permitted himself since school began. He took a regular break around midmorning to pick up a newspaper and read the sports section. Late in the afternoon, he would shoot baskets for thirty minutes, and purposely avoid thinking about finals while he did so. And, at seven o'clock in the evening, he turned on the TV and watched the exploits of Andy Taylor, Barney Fife and the other residents of Mayberry. Something about that seemed so incongruous with the atmosphere surrounding final exams at Stanford Law School, that it actually seemed daring and exhilarating.

  When he allowed himself a break from his mental exercises and cleared his mind of legal concepts, Jake’s thoughts continually drifted back to his experience in the stairwell. He tried to recall as much as he could about his encounter with the mystery girl, as Tony called her. He remembered her words, and her voice. He vividly recalled her face – the fine features, the fetching smile, and the intelligent eyes. Most of all, he remembered her presence, and the effect she had had upon him. Dwelling on those thoughts became a source of pleasure, yet it also sparked another reaction—a compelling desire to see her again. He had no idea what he would say or do if he did. After all, he knew nothing about her. What he did know, beyond any doubt, was that there was something special about this girl. So he looked for her, everywhere he went.

  When finals arrived, Jake felt well rested and relaxed. When they were over, he thought about what the girl had said. She was right. He honestly believed that he would have been no more prepared if he had spent every waking moment of the last ten days poring over his outlines. He was confident that he had done just fine.

  CHAPTER 6

  The First Years returned from the holiday break feeling confident and optimistic. The nervousness and uncertainty of the first semester was behind them. They had survived their first set of final exams, and proven to themselves and to each other that they did indeed belong at Stanford Law School.

  Jake dove eagerly back into his studies, and also resumed his routine of afternoon exercise under the California skies. Promptly at three o'clock, he would either set out on a five-mile run or spend an hour cruising the area on the secondhand racing bicycle he had purchased. Occasionally, as he was running or cycling, he would see someone who, from a distance or from behind, looked like she might be the girl from the stairwell. On each such occasion, he felt a surge of hope, only to be disappointed when it turned out to be someone else. In the evenings, after completing his studies, Jake would frequently take his guitar to the back stairwell. He felt drawn there, not only because it was an effective way to decompress, but also because some part of him held out hope he might encounter the mystery girl there once again.

  In late January, Jake, Tony and Rick resumed their afternoon routine of pickup basketball games at the Athletic Center, and several weeks later, the law school team began playing intramural games on Thursday evenings. Playing with Rick had elevated Jake’s game, and it was soon sharper than it had ever been. His prolific scoring, coupled with Rick's leadership and intensity, made the law school team a juggernaut within the intramural league. No one could touch them. Rick was spectacular, and yet Jake was able to hold his own. They clicked perfectly on the court and there was an undeniable chemistry between them that was on display for all to see. After each game, the two of them felt like they had not only achieved another conquest, but had put on a show.

  After going undefeated and winning the intramural championship, the law school team gathered at one of the local watering holes. It was early April, and about time to begin gearing up for finals, but the team felt entitled to a celebration. Rick poured Jake a cold beer from the pitcher and said, “Awesome season, man! It's great running the floor with you. We should get together and play in Chicago over the summer. Have you heard about the summer league at City College?”

  The City College summer league was well known by Chicago basketball aficionados. The teams were made up largely of NBA hopefuls from major colleges, a few high school superstars, and players who had previously enjoyed brief stints at the professional level and still dreamed of getting back there. “I've heard about it,” Jake replied, “but those guys are way out of my league.”

  “Bullshit! Don’t sell yourself short. I know you keep telling me that you’re just a playground player, but you’ve got an amazing game – Division One talent for sure. It’s too bad you got hurt during high school. You could have played college ball anywhere.”

  “Thanks, but I’m just being realistic. I don’t think we have any chance of getting into a game there.”

  “Not true. I’ve gotten into a bunch of games there over the past few summers. It's a kick! It's rough as hell but the talent is amazing—best anywhere outside the NBA. We'd never be able to enter a team, but what you do is you go hang out there, and sometimes you can get into a game if a team is shorthanded or someone gets hurt. Even if you don't get in, it's great just to watch. We’ve got to go.”

  “Sounds great,” Jake replied. “Call me anytime.”

  As second semester finals drew near, the First Years approached them with less fear but all the intensity of the first semester. Although Jake had survived without his outlines the previous semester, he was not willing to test fate again, and so he diligently and methodically went about the outlining process once more. From his first semester experience, however, he did learn the value of balancing his study schedule with an adequate amount of rest and relaxation. When the two-week finals period arrived, Jake felt prepared, relaxed and confident. He expected that the Contracts, Torts and Constitutional Law exams would be the most difficult, and all three were scheduled during the first week. After finishing those exams, the pressure would really be off. Civil Procedure and Property were scheduled for the following Tuesday and Wednesday. Those were his strongest subjects, and he had plenty of time to prepare.

  As he walked back toward the dorm after his Constitutional Law final late Friday morning, Jake saw Kelly walking ahead of him, and hurried to catch up with her. “We're almost there, girlfriend!” He gave Kelly an enthusiastic high-five.

  “I know. I can't believe it! We've got nothing until next Tuesday. I'll be celebrating tonight!”

  “Good for you. What have you got planned?”

  “My college roommate, Kathleen, is having a party. She's in medical school here, and they just finished their finals. Should be a wild time! Hey, why don't you come along? It's really a fun crowd.”

  “Thanks, but I'm wiped out. I don't think I'd be much fun. I'm going to sleep for about twelve hours. Maybe I'll party tomorrow night.”

  “Oh, you're such a bore.” She shoved him playfully. “You need a life outside of law school, Jake. If you get a second wind before eight o'clock tonight, let me know. You'd really be perfectly welcome.”

  Jake arrived in his dorm room and flopped down on his bed, intending to rest his eyes for a few minutes. It was nearly three hours later when he awoke with a start, feeling disoriented but
blissfully well rested. He donned his running shoes and briskly jogged into one of the nearby residential neighborhoods. His route took him several miles off campus, and he stopped at a supermarket for a cold drink. He noticed a shiny black BMW parked near the entrance and thought that it might be Rick's, and that perhaps he could get a lift home. Upon closer examination, he realized that the car was parked in a disabled parking space and had a disabled tag hanging from the rearview mirror. It must be somebody else, he thought, as he walked past the vehicle into the store. He found the refrigerated section and contemplated his choices among the various sports drinks.

  “McShane! Forget the Gatorade, grab some beer! Even you aren't studying tonight, I hope!” The boisterous greeting came from Rick, who was standing at the other end of the cooler, accompanied by two attractive young women. He was pushing a shopping cart piled high with beer and wine and an assortment of snacks.

  Rick stuck out his hand and gave Jake a hearty handshake. “Three down, two to go! We're almost there. Hey, meet my friends. This is Cheryl,” he said, turning toward to the shapely redhead to his right, “and this is Mary Ann,” nodding toward the other, a pretty brunette, who looked like a runner. “Girls, this is Jake McShane, a good friend and classmate. When he doesn't have his head buried in the books, he’s the best basketball player on campus.”