A harsh slam into my left shoulder sent me careening into the turf, the collision sending shooting pains through my entire abdomen and finally landing in the residual pain that always throbbed below my left rib. If I wasn't careful, I was going to have a bruised or broken rib and that didn't bode well for my chances of playing in our next game, which I needed to perform well in if I wanted any chance at more coverage.

The more coverage I received, the easier my chances would be when renegotiating my contract for the next season. I could get better endorsement deals, a better bonus and more money. I wasn't all about the money, but it did help when I thought of my career opportunities that came after a professional football career. Most guys got injured and never played again or got washed up, and I refused to be one of those players who'd be forgotten.

After practice, I laid in the ice bath for a solid hour and was scrolling through my phone when a call came through.

"Lucas? It's been a while, how you been?"

"I've been better. I'm moving up for MIT and I was going through my social media when I came across Amalia's profile, Lydia's best friend that she's living with up here? She's in a wheelchair now. Apparently she's paralyzed."

"What? Since when?"

"I have no idea. I tried messaging her but she basically told me to go fuck myself and then blocked me. Clearly they're fine up here, they're always posting pictures together and everything but what if something happened that they didn't tell us about? You'd think Lydia would at least tell her own family..."

"I stopped guessing what Lydia was capable of a long time ago, man. Don't take it too personal."

I rubbed my hands up and down my face as Lucas unloaded the rest of his family drama on me, and I didn't mind all that much as he was a pretty good friend to me even if he was a shitty brother to his sister. I didn't miss the insults he threw her way when they had their big fight before she finally moved away, but she wasn't without faults either. Clearly.

"Sorry man I didn't mean to drop all that on you, I know you and her were together or something..."

"It's all good, it feels like a long time ago," I lied, not wanting him to realize the depth in which Lydia scarred me. I also didn't want to tell him that if she weren't actively trying to ruin her own life, that I would have done anything to get her back, but I couldn't get someone back who didn't want to help themselves.

She must have realized that in my career I couldn't have had any scandals so early on and cut me loose before it cut too deep, but the damage was already done.

"Yeah, well, maybe I'll try and get back in touch since we're gonna be living in the same city again."

"Is Reed coming up too?"

"To visit, he just moved in with his new boyfriend."

"Good for him. Maybe I can fly us all out somewhere for Spring Break this year."

"Yeah we'll have to get together and go to some of the clubs down there, I heard you know the scene pretty well now..."

I laughed as we caught up on what life was like for a rising football star and soon my time in the ice bath was up and I was left with more questions than answers swimming around in my head.

Amalia was in a wheelchair, paralyzed. Lydia had a new scar on her face that I'd never seen before even though I distinctly remembered analyzing each and every freckle and dimple on that gorgeous face of hers when she wasn't looking.

What had happened to her? And did I want to risk everything trying to figure it out? Something deep within me told me to not get involved with her again, but there was an ache buried in my chest that told me that I'd destroy myself in the process of trying to fight her pull and that I should've just given up right then and there.

I fought that urge and looked her up on my phone once more, noticing that she'd posted yet another picture.

It was a boomerang video of her feet on a treadmill at a gym, back and forth her feet hitting the moving runway not unlike my thoughts on her. Back and forth, back and forth...I love her, I love her, I can't have her, I can't have her....I couldn't have her, could I?

No, I couldn't have someone who couldn't distinguish the reality of what she had in front of her and a revenge fantasy of someone who lived hundreds of miles away from her. If she had a death wish, that was on her.

But I couldn't help but torture myself on what I would do if she really did die on her quest for vengeance. It would destroy me, that was a given, so what was I going to do about it?

I didn't have an answer for myself, and instead spent the rest of my night scrolling through her feed and praying that she'd reach out to me and give up her quest for something bigger than herself, but I knew that that was never going to happen.

"This case is a mess. I'm starting to regret showing you up in class, that way you'd be lead counsel and all I'd have to do is sit back and watch you crash and burn in front of the whole class."

"Very funny, Montgomery. Look, the eye witness puts the guy there at the scene five minutes before the cops got there. We've got him."

"Yes, but eye witness testimony is constantly put under fire because of how unreliable it is. Haven't you heard of the case when there were twelve eye witnesses to a shooting and they all remembered a man with completely different characteristics than the actual suspect? One said he was tall, the other said he was short. Dark hair, light hair, need I go on? If all we have is eye witness testimony, we're going to lose. We need hard proof, evidence. DNA, a picture putting him at the scene, surveillance footage placing him at the scene before or after the cops arrived."

"You know we don't have any of that. We are to prosecute with the information we're given in this folder, and nothing more."

I rolled my eyes.

"Real lawyers don't have to just stick to what they're given in their case files. I realize the point of this assignment, but if we're going to prosecute to the best of our abilities then we're going to have to get more evidence. Look, where did the assault occur? The Royal in downtown? I can see if we can get the footage from the little breakfast place across the corner and see if there's anything on it we can use. Everyone else is trying to work the same case right?"

At Malcolm's irritated nod, I continued.

"Well, then we're going to have to get a jump on it. What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Saturday night? I was going to go to the frat party-"

"Well now we're going to that breakfast bar and the Royal."

"We?"

"Yes, we. I'm lead counsel on this and I refuse to get a bad grade on this. The students who do the best on this assignment get to actually sit in court and watch our professor defend the suspect. Our job is to be the 'prosecution' to see if we can actually gather enough evidence to put this guy away. We get to prove if he's innocent or guilty. I plan on us being those students who get in to that court room."

Malcolm's eyes glinted with what seemed like approval and pride but I brushed his eyes off as I concentrated on the files once more.

I had to prove this man's innocence, because I knew that he wasn't the actual perpetrator. I knew this because I knew who the real person responsible for the crime was, because I was there.

I was there, and I let him get away. I wasn't going to let that happen again, but I also needed to make sure that the police didn't find out about my involvement, because if they did then that would be the end of everything and my sanity wouldn't survive if that happened.