I Became a Law School Genius
“What is the most important clause in the Constitution?”
First day of Criminal Law for 1Ls, and Professor James Madison asked the question.
“Wouldn’t it be ‘We the People’ in the Preamble?”
“It’s the First Amendment, which guarantees freedom of expression.”
“I also agree that it’s the First Amendment, but I think the reason isn’t ‘freedom of expression’—rather, it’s because of Article I, Section 8, Clause 18, the Necessary and Proper Clause.”
Kids from all over the world who had studied quite a bit—kids whose dream was to become lawyers or politicians—had gathered here, so there was no fear of speaking up.
They didn’t raise their hands shouting “Me, me!” like kindergarteners, but they were passionate enough to start debating among themselves over a question thrown by the substitute professor.
Perhaps exactly that was what Professor James Madison had wanted.
Professor Rachel Lindberg, who taught 1L Criminal Law, was running about fifteen minutes late due to personal circumstances; since he had only stepped in to briefly watch over the students during that gap, he had neither the intention nor the time to teach anything.
He might have wanted to let the students discuss among themselves and see who among the new students was sharp.
“The student in the very back there? What’s your name?”
But why had he called on me?
Because I’d yawned? Because I was wearing my cap pulled down low like a punk?
Anyway, it was still a mystery even on my second time through.
“It’s Heon.”
“Did you say your name is Honey?”
Kekekek— Hahaha—
Laughter burst out here and there in the lecture hall.
My name is Jeheon.
Born in Korea, I went to study abroad in Canada in high school,
and after graduating from the University of Toronto, I entered NYU Law School.
In high school I’d briefly used the English name “Jay,” but it felt awkward so I just used my real name.
Jeheon (Je Hon)
Why “Hon” and not “Heon” or “Hun”? It’s a long story.
Anyway, I was already used to the jokes I got because my name was “Heon.”
(In North America, people often call their lovers “Honey,” or “Hon” for short. Translated into Korean, it would be something like “jagiya.”)
“Alright, Hon. What clause do you think is the most important in the Constitution?”
When I’d been asked that question back then, I’d hesitated.
I’d been out looking for a place to stay until the night before, so I hadn’t slept properly, and given my family’s circumstances, it was uncertain whether I could continue attending school.
I’d applied because I wanted to become a brilliant international lawyer, but it was a time when everything was hazy.
Back then, I’d been half-listening to another student’s answer and replied in a timid voice, “I think it’s the First Amendment.”
I hadn’t even been able to answer properly when Professor Madison followed up by asking why I thought so.
But this time was different.
“I believe the most important clause in the US Constitution is Article VI, Clause 2.”
Because this is my second time around.
【Episode 1 – I Became a Law School Genius.】
｢A week ago, or perhaps ten years later.
Seoul, Gangnam Station.
“Teacher, what score did you get on the LSAT?”
“175.”
“Wow, that’s amazing.”
LSAT is short for Law School Admission Test, an entrance exam for law school administered by the Law School Admission Council in the United States.
It is a mandatory exam for applying to law schools in the United States.
The exam consists of multiple-choice questions measuring reading comprehension, logic, reasoning ability, and an ungraded writing sample, with a total testing time of four hours.
Scores are converted from the number of correct answers to a scale between 120 and 180, with the median being roughly 150.
You need to score around 150 to get into a law school ranked within the top 100, and to apply to the “T14”—the fourteen law schools belonging to Tier 1 among US law schools—you need to score at least 165.
“Then why couldn’t you get into Harvard or Yale?”
Among the T14, Yale, Harvard, Columbia, and Stanford—the top of the top—175 is considered the safe zone, and the next tier down, such as NYU, University of Chicago, Duke, etc., also requires 170 or above to apply with confidence.
“Were your grades bad?”
If you want to get into one of the T14, your GPA also needs to be at least 3.8 on a 4.0 scale, and if you’re aiming for Yale, Harvard, or Stanford among them, it needs to be 3.9 or higher.
“3.92.”
“Huh? Your GPA was 3.92? OMG—”
“Then why couldn’t you get into Harvard?”
It was a question I received every year when new students came in.
They were always most curious why, despite having a 175 LSAT and a 3.92 GPA, I hadn’t been able to go to Harvard, Yale, or Stanford.
“I know, right? If I’d known I’d get asked so many questions, I would have gone.”
These questions were relatively cute.
There was a more difficult question.
“Teacher, then why don’t you have a law license?”
***
Sizzle sizzle sizzle—
The sound of samgyeopsal grilling on the pan was like a midsummer downpour in July or August.
“Hey, why don’t you just tell them everything? That it was because of family circumstances.”
“Why would I bother explaining all that pathetically? I’ll only be seeing them for six months to a year at most anyway.”
“Still.”
I’d told them before.
When I’d first started this job, I’d explained the reason to students who asked.
It had been a pointless endeavor. Most took it as an excuse, and even those who sympathized forgot quickly.
It wasn’t the old days—saying I couldn’t go to a better school because of family circumstances,
saying I couldn’t become a lawyer.
I admit it wasn’t easy to understand.
But it was the truth.
Like most applicants, I had applied to several schools in the T14.
I hadn’t received acceptance notices from Yale and Stanford, but I had been accepted to Harvard.
But I hadn’t received a scholarship. The only schools that gave me scholarships were NYU and Cornell, so I had chosen NYU.
And there was one more reason.
Jeong Sujeong.
“Did you hear? Sujeong’s getting married.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“From who?”
“Minsu. I got the invitation.”
“Why the hell is that bastard Minsu giving you an invitation?”
“Then why are you telling me about it?”
“I can talk to you about it. Because we’re best friends. But that bastard—the groom—knows your whole history with Sujeong. What a funny bastard.”
“What history.”
There was a history.
It was true that I had wanted to go because she was in New York.
“So? Are you going?”
“To what?”
“The wedding.”
“Isn’t it in New York?”
“Yeah.”
“Can’t go.”
Changje, who had been about to ask “Why?” stopped himself.
“Right. Why would you go all the way there.”
“What about you?”
“Me? I’m… going.”
“What? Aren’t you upset?”
“I’m Naeun’s best friend. Ah, but if you tell me not to go, I won’t.”
Changje was dating Naeun, who was closest to Jeong Sujeong.
“Go. Why wouldn’t you go because of me.”
“No, for real. If you tell me not to go, I really won’t go. Really.”
“Didn’t you just say ‘really’ three times?”
“Because it’s true.”
“Doesn’t criminal psychology say that when people emphasize that something is ‘really’ true multiple times, there’s a high probability they’re lying?”
“Come on—I’m telling you it’s true! Really.”
“That’s a habit of yours. Even when you spoke English, you were always saying ‘really,’ ‘really.’ In eleventh grade, Mrs. MacIntyre said she’d charge you a dollar every time you said ‘really.’”
“Kekekek. Mrs. MacIntyre. I wonder what she’s doing now… Anyway, I mean it. I’m not going. I am serious, man. Really.”
See, you did it again.
“It doesn’t matter. Go. Congratulate her on my behalf. It seems they aren’t accepting cash gifts anyway.”
“For real?”
I mean it. It really doesn’t matter to me now.
99.99%.
She wasn’t the right person for me anyway.
“Right. It’s all in the past. Cheers.”
Clink—
“Ah, by the way, how’s your father these days?”
“He’s fine. Hey, why are you drinking soda?”
“My best friend can’t drink, so I can’t be the only one drinking.”
“You used to drink before.”
“Yeah, I’ve wised up. I’m going to stop now.”
“What are you talking about—just do what you always do.”
In my first year of law school, my father got into a traffic accident.
It was a hit-and-run.
Fortunately he survived, but it was a major accident with severe aftereffects, and his body was so badly damaged that he needed a liver transplant.
My parents didn’t tell me exactly.
They only said he’d been in a minor accident.
It was an important time; they had deliberately not told me because they were afraid of ruining my life.
I found out during my summer internship after first year, that my father’s condition was serious.
I put everything on hold and returned to Korea.
At the time, I’d thought I would go back later if the situation improved, but I wasn’t able to.
The first thing I did after returning was my father’s liver transplant surgery.
And then I looked for a job I could start immediately. I needed money urgently. From my father’s surgery expenses to various family debts, there were many places money needed to go.
The first place I entered was an English hagwon in Gangnam.
From there, I moved to a better-paying job as an LSAT instructor.
Perhaps I had a talent for teaching; my earnings gradually improved.
Covering my father’s hospital bills, household living expenses, and my younger sibling’s tuition, I was still able to pay off all the family debt in five years.
One of my classmates had asked,
“Why are you paying for your sibling’s study abroad expenses?”
In a family that wasn’t well-off, I had been the first to receive support because I was the eldest child. If I could do it, it was only right that I did.
Ring ring— Ring ring—
“Yes, Father.”
—Where are you, Heon?
“Ah, I’m on my way home after having dinner with a friend I haven’t seen in a long time.”
—I see.
“What about you, Father? Are you home?”
—Yes, I’m home.
“I’m off next Monday. I’ll come down then.”
—No. Why come home. I’m fine. On your day off, just rest. Go on dates.
“No. I’ll come down.”
—…….
“Father?”
—Heon.
“Yes.”
—I’m sorry, Father.
“Why are you saying that? Is something wrong?”
—Forgive this worthless father.
“Come on, why are you saying that again. I told you not to think like that. This is the path I chose. So please don’t feel sorry toward me.”
—Yes, thank you. Thank you, my eldest son. I lived because of you.
“Say that to Mother.”
—Yes, yes, *sniff*.
Just then, my mother’s voice could be heard over the receiver.
—Who are you talking to? Heon? Why are you calling a busy kid working so hard at this hour? Let him rest.
—I called to tell him that. Not to come down this week.
It seemed Mom had taken the phone now.
—Nothing wrong?
“No.”
—You’re not drinking, right?
“No.”
—If not, fine. Then go in and rest.
“Yes.”
—Ah, you’re off Monday, right? Don’t come. Your father and I are going to your uncle’s house. So don’t come and just rest in Seoul. Got it?
“You two are really staging a protest telling me not to come.”
—What is there for a young person to do out here in the countryside?
“I can rest somewhere with good water and air. And see Mother and Father while I’m at it.”
—It’s bad here too because of fine dust. The water from the purifier is cleaner. Turn on the air conditioner and rest at home.
“Haha. Alright.”
—By the way, is there a girl you’re seeing?
“That’s what you were really curious about, right? There isn’t.”
—Curious? Hardly. Alright, get some rest.
“Yes.”
Click.
In our family, my mother is a woman of iron.
She’d always had a bit of that in her, but she became more so after my father’s accident.
Pfft—
These occasional melodramas are like sitcoms to me.
I can’t say I have no regrets, but that doesn’t mean I’m unsatisfied.
Because right now, I’m fine with the way things are.
Of course, if I could go back, there are things I’d want to change…｣
***
Beep beep beep beep—
“Hey, Hon, wake up. Didn’t you say there was a law school orientation or something today?”
And so,
ordinarily,
as if it were the next day,
I returned.
New York, 2012.
To that city where my dreams, youth, and style had been.
New York, 2012
“Hon, wake up. Didn’t you say there was a law school orientation or something today?”
“Jake? What are you doing here?”
“Um… because it’s my room?”
It was definitely his room.
The long, narrow Roosevelt Island situated between Manhattan and Queens.
Apartment 113 on the fifth floor of an old building at the tip of that uniquely shaped island.
It was the very room where I’d briefly stayed right after arriving in New York before law school orientation.
“What year is it?”
“What’s wrong? Didn’t wake up properly?”
My high school classmate, Jake Sims.
We’d been quite close once.
He’d come to New York after high school saying he would become a film director like Jim Jarmusch. At the time, he’d graduated from an unknown film college and was working at a small production company.
I’d contacted him after a long time, and he’d readily allowed me to stay in his rented room for about two weeks.
So I’d been in that room.
In August 2012, that is.
“Is it 2012 by any chance?”
“Whoa—don’t do that, Hon. I’m on medication. That kind of joke isn’t good for my mental health.”
Right. At the time, this guy had been seeing a psychiatrist.
“Just tell me that one thing. Is it 2012?”
“…Yeah, right… 2012.”
It’s really 2012?
“Jake, your phone!”
The phone display he’d handed me showed ｢08:11, Wednesday, August 22｣.
‘It’s that day!’
The day my father had gotten into the traffic accident.
Without a second of hesitation, I called my father’s cell phone.
Ring ring— Ring ring—
‘Father, please pick up.’
Ring ring— Ring ring— Ring ring—
At approximately 9:11 PM on August 22, 2012, Korean time, my father had been on his way to meet a client when he was hit by an SUV driven by a drunk driver.
Ring ring— Ring ring— Ring ring— Ring ring— Ring ring—
‘Please…’
—Hello?
“Father!”
—Is that Heon? Yes, did you arrive safely in New York…
At that moment, my father’s words cut off, and a horrifying sound came through the phone.
Screeeeeech— Crash!
“Father?”
—…….
“Father!”
—Oh my, there’s been a big accident over there.
For a moment, my heart stopped.
Thinking I would suffer the same misfortune again this time.
“Father!”
—Yes, Heon.
“Are you alright, Father?!”
—Yeah, I’m fine.
It wasn’t so.
“Really? You’re really alright?”
—Yes, yes. I’m fine. Don’t worry. Wow—Heon, if it weren’t for you, something terrible could have happened!
Father was safe.
Phew—