Page 16 of Not In The Contract

I shook the thought, fished out my first few rough drafts and laid them out next to one another chronologically.

My fingertips brushed over each of them in turn, the memories of a much younger Devon buried up to her nose in textbooks racing to the surface. I smiled, remembering how many nights I’d spent in this very library, hidden away behind the mountain of books and papers I’d gotten my hands on.

I’d spent even more time writing each paper, twining one thought to another, trying to make sense of all the information jammed in my skull.

Psychology hadn’t been my end goal when I started studying all those years ago, but it happily welcomed me when I began searching for answers. It was thanks to the years I dedicated to the field that I got closure, even though my mother died before I’d even stepped foot out of high school.

“Knock knock.”

I looked up in surprise and found Paula looking back at me.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” she said with a smile, and sat down in the other cushioned chair. “I know how fixated you get when you’re in here.”

That was true enough.

I could easily lose myself to the rows of books and cushy chairs. It didn’t help that the library windows sat high above us, keeping the movement of the sun a secret until I peeled myself away only to find it was long after ten at night.

“You caught me early enough.” I giggled. “I was just about to start going through my old papers.”

“Oh, how delightful,” she said, leaning in. The colorful beads hanging from her glasses tinkled with the movement. “Which ones are you starting with?”

“The ones you set, of course,” I chuckled. “That was the first time I looked into the psychology of young minds.”

“You flatter me,” she tittered.

I rolled my eyes. She loved being flattered. It was, as she put it, her bread and butter.

“Hardly.” I smiled. “These were probably the toughest papers I’ve ever written.”

“But they prepared you for what you’re up against now,” she pointed out.

They did.

Even if I’d lost sleep to them.

“Speaking of which,” she added, picking at her nails. “Have you heard back from Alex?”

“It’s only been a day,” I said, more to assuage my own anxiety. “I’m sure she has a lot more important tasks on her plate.”

“She’s decided already.” Paula shrugged. “She’s probably just trying to convince herself to call you.”

“I doubt that.” I frowned. “How did you two end up as friends, anyway?”

“Nowthat’sa story.” She chortled and pushed her glasses up on her face. “I’d say we were college buddies, but I was a teaching assistant when she was in her final year. She was working three jobs to put herself through college.”

“Three jobs?” I hissed in disbelief.

Paula nodded seriously. “She came out of the foster system, Devon,” Paula reminded me. “What did you expect? She had no money to her name, and her name was all she had.”

“Still, three jobsandstudying?” I murmured.

I knew it was the reality for thousands of students, but the thought still chilled me to my bone. It was something I hoped my research might improve. Kids shouldn’t have to work as many jobs as they could just to put themselves through school.

“It had to be done,” Paula said, shaking her head in defeat. “It took its toll, for sure. But it’s also what drove her to become what her friends call the god of time.”

“She did mention that her schedule was tight,” I mused. “As did you. I feel like it’s a lot more intense than either of you are letting on.”

“You’ll see when you start shadowing her.” Paula smiled genially. “You’ll have to be on time every day.”