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I let out a deflated breath as I walk out of class. I had been up all night since practice studying for one of my classes, and even pulled an all nighter to memorize the entire review packet. And now that I finished my exam, I had to go to the library to write a paper that was due tomorrow. Luckily, the paper was only four pages and for one of my easier classes.

I stop at the base of the building I had just come out of and glance around at the crisp Fall day. The colors on the leaves were changing and campus has never looked prettier. After admiring the scenery briefly, I set off for the library. Luckily, my class was only a block or two away from the library building, so it took me a short ten minute walk to get there.

The library was my favorite spot on campus. Even though it was big, it was beautiful. It had been rebuilt fairly recently, and the facilities were completely modern. I went to my favorite nook on the second floor, in an armchair in front of a window overlooking the quad on campus. After settling at the wood table in front of me, I heard someone approaching.

"Why am I not surprised to see you here?" A familiar voice laced with humor says.

I turn around and smirk at the sight. "Vincent," I drawl in surprise. "What are you doing at the library?"

Vincent chuckles as he pulls out the chair and sits down. "This may come as a surprise," He says as he places his books down. "But I actually come here to get work done."

I pull out my own notebook and computer. "You can't get anything done in your room, either?"

"Not at all," He sighs. "I live with football players. They're always playing video games or partying."

I pull up the assignment on my computer and the outline I had finished in my notes. "That sucks," I tell him half heartedly as my mind starts wandering to my responsibilities. "But if you're working at the same table as me, then I'm going to need complete silence."

The corner of his lips tug up, but he nods. "Complete silence," He nods thoughtfully. "Got it."

Then he pretends to zip his lips and then throw the lock out somewhere on the ground. I smile at him with a satisfied nod, only feeling a little suspicious of his easy cooperation, before I start getting down to business.

I'm about five minutes into writing when I hear Vincent click his pen three times. I glance up from my laptop to see if he was doing it on purpose, but his eyes were glued to whatever he was reading in front of him, and the pen was just resting in his fingers.

Satisfied, I look back down and continue writing again, but only a moment passes before he starts clicking his pen again. I look up again and see that he's trying to hold a smile away from his lips as his eyes stay glued on the page. I narrow my eyes at him and cautiously look back down to my computer screen.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Vincent glance up at me and click the pen again. I whip my head up and hiss through clenched teeth, "Stop doing that."

"My bad," He promises with a cheeky smile. "It's just a twitch. I'll get it under control."

Warily, I nod at him and look back down at my computer. Another five minutes of solid writing passes before I start to feel the table move slightly, and feel something moving under the table. I glance under the table to investigate and see Vincent's knee shaking up and down.

"Seriously?" I whine with a sigh.

Vincent just looks up at me with mischief dancing in his eyes as he continued to bite back a smile. "You're talking an awful lot, Lily," He says seriously. "I need complete silence."

As I stare at him incredulously and his battle against a smile is lost with the turning up of his lips, I wonder if Vincent Bradshaw was put on this earth just so he could annoy me. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised. I just wanted to know who I pissed off in my past life enough to merit this kind of torture.

"Okay," I murmur as I drawl my backpack closer to me. "I'm leaving."

Laughter escapes Vincent's lips as I start to stuff my notebook into my backpack, but before I can grab my laptop, he grabs my hand and stops me. I look up at him with slightly widened eyes, completely startled that he had grabbed my hand, but he looks effortlessly laid back.

"I'll stop," Vincent promises with a small smile. "I'm done, I promise." Upon seeing my surprise, he adds, "Don't leave."

Tingling sensations ran up my arm and I drew my hand away from his to make the electric sensation stop. I didn't like the feeling.

A mixture of exhausted and suspicious, I take my notebook out of my backpack and mutter, "Fine."

I settle into my seat once more and try to continue writing my essay one last time. This time, I barely got through three sentences before Vincent speaks again.

"Uh, Lily?" Vincent asks tentatively.

I sigh loudly and narrow my eyes at him. "What?" I snap. "You said you were finally going to shut up."

This time, though, there isn't a mischievous glint in his eye. Vincent glances down to the table, looking a few inches away from my notebook, and then back up at me. "Danny is calling."

My head whips down to see Danny's name sprawled across my phone screen, and I can feel Vincent's eyes studying my reaction as my eyes widen and I grab my phone as if it would melt anywhere but my hands. Abruptly, I stand up from my seat and start walking away.

I walk into the bookcases, careful that nobody was around, and once I was surrounded by books instead of people, I hit the answer button. "Hey, kid."

"What happened yesterday?" Danny whines immediately. "You hung up and didn't call back."

The memory of my phone flying out of my hand after my encounter with Max sparks instant annoyance within me, but I repress it as I apologize. "My phone broke," I tell him. "But it's all fixed now. I'm sorry, bud."

"It broke?" Danny gasps. "What happened?"

Some asshole, that's what happened, I refrain from saying. "I dropped it."

When I hear the laughter on the other end of the phone, all residual annoyance fades, and I feel my lips turn into a smile. "Why did you drop it? That was dumb."

"Hey!" I say with a widening smile. "It was an accident."

And, as always, Danny gets distracted. "When are you coming home?" He asks impatiently. "You said soon last time. Is it soon yet?"

My smile fades a little when I hear the sadness tint in his voice. I knew he missed me, but not nearly as much as I missed him. Again, I had a moment where I wondered why the hell I even came to school when I could've been home with him instead. I let out a deflated breath and smile sadly.

"Soon," I tell him again. "There are only a few weeks until Thanksgiving break."

"Weeks?" Danny complains, and then I hear a familiar voice, muffled by distance, on the other end. "Okay," He says, and then to me, "Mom wants to talk to you."

Before I can reply, I hear my mother's voice. "Lily?"

"Hi mom," I greet, feeling myself deflate even more when I hear her. I could tell she was exhausted even from the one word.

"Your phone broke?" She asks worriedly. "What happened?"

"Don't worry about it," I tell her quickly. "It was taken care of," I add, and as I do, I turn to survey the books on the shelf, but instead I see Vincent through the cracks of the bookcase.

He was in the aisle beside mine and I could tell that he was listening to my conversation. His gaze bore through mine, expression unchanging when he realized I caught him, and I felt my walls go up almost instantly. I hid the sadness from my face and straightened up.

"Mom, I have to go," I tell her, not breaking eye contact with Vincent. "I'll call you later."

"But Lily--" She starts.

"I love you," I interrupt before hanging up. I storm around the bookcase into the next row and glare at Vincent. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Vincent looks at me calmly and says thoughtfully, "Trying to figure you out."

His words shook me, considering that was the last thing I expected him to say. I paused for a moment just to stare at him, clearly dumbfounded, before I remembered the reason why I was angry.

"Don't eavesdrop on my conversations," I tell him sharply. "And stop trying to force yourself into my personal life."

With that, I storm past him and back toward our table. I quickly gather my things in my backpack, intent on putting as much distance between Vincent and I as possible, even if it meant that I was abandoning my favorite spot.

I turn around and my backpack around my shoulders and make eye contact with Vincent as I pass him. His brow was drawn together and he watched me in confusion, like he had no idea why I was so upset that he was listening in on my conversation with Danny.

It wasn't until I was outside that I wondered why I was so upset, too.

I didn't finish my paper before practice started. Every time I opened my laptop and tried to write, I kept seeing Vincent and the stupid smile he had when he was trying to annoy me. Despite my best efforts of repressing the thought of him, it was no use. He was on my mind, whether I liked it or not.

So after countless hours of staring at my half-written paper, I finally left to go to practice. I walked slower than usual because I had no inclination to go at all. I even considered emailing Sandra to say that I was sick and couldn't make it today, but I knew that would only land me in hot water with her, which was the last thing I wanted.

"Lily!" I hear someone call from behind me. "Wait up!"

I stop and turn at the entrance of the stadium to see Trevor jogging over to me. I wait for him to catch up, and when he does, we resume walking at my slower-than-a-snail pace.

"Hey Trevor," I greet halfheartedly, my mind elsewhere.

"What's up with you?" He asks as his brow knits together. "Are you alright?"

Ever since I left the library, I couldn't stop thinking about two things: Vincent, unfortunately, and home. I wanted to see Danny, especially while he was doing so well. Even though I wanted him to feel this good all the time, I was well aware that what goes up must come down.

I had a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach that this wasn't the end. My mom told me that the doctors said his chemotherapy was going well, but we weren't out of the woods yet. And no matter how much I told myself and her that things would be okay, I knew it was only wishful thinking.

When I don't answer immediately, Trevor sighs. "Come on, Lily," He stops walking to look at me seriously. "You can talk to me."

And I knew I could, sure. Trevor was one of my best friends. But I wouldn't. "Just tired," I tell him with an exhausted smile. "Between class, work, and PT training, I'm wiped."

We continue walking as Trevor mutters, "That sucks. I don't know how you do all that, honestly. I can barely keep my grades up with football practice." He glances at me sideways and offers, "You could always cut down on your hours at work. You know, so you have more time to sleep."

"Maybe," I nod, although I had no intention of cutting back on my hours. If anything, I should be working more. "I just need to go home for Thanksgiving to catch up on my naps."

Trevor chuckles beside me, and I feel almost guilty for not telling him the truth. I knew that he would understand and be supportive, but I couldn't bring myself to tell him about Danny's condition. It wasn't something that he needed to know.

"Are you having trouble with your grades?" I swiftly change the conversation. "I can find someone to tutor you."

He chuckles and nudges my shoulder. "Oh Lily," Trevor grins. "You're like the mom of the group, always looking out for us."

I grin back at him. "I thought you told me I was the little sister."

"You're both," He argues, and then pauses. "Is that possible?"

"Not really," I answer for him with a laugh, "But I'll accept it."

Trevor winks at me and says, "Good." Then he turns forward, where we were approaching the field, and changes the subject. "So, how's Bradshaw doing?"

I scoff, "How should I know?"

Really, I was just annoyed that he was bringing up Vincent, especially after I had spent so long thinking about him. Trevor's eyebrows raise in suspicion as he glances over at me and says slowly, obviously, "Because you're his physical therapist?"

I feel like an idiot when he says this, because I realize how quick I had been to snap a response at him. I feel my cheeks flush as I mumble, "He's fine."

When Trevor laughs, I'm almost positive he's caught me out. I thought that he realized I had been thinking of Vincent, I had actually started to grow fond of him, I had stopped hating him so blindly. But then he shakes his head and muses, "I still can't believe you haven't killed each other yet."

A weird feeling of relief washed over me when he doesn't suspect my warm of heart towards Vincent, and I can't say that I liked the sensation.

"Yeah," I mutter. "Me neither."

"Try to keep him alive until playoffs," Trevor says with a smirk. "We're going to need him after a season of O'Donnell."

I make a weird grunt noise in response because, unfortunately, my mind was drifting back to thoughts of Vincent. Time and time again, he's tried to figure out my personal life and, subsequently, Danny's condition. I still didn't understand why he wanted to know so bad, but he seemed to motivated the day in the locker room he told me that he wanted to help.

Goosebumps raised on my arms at the thought of the intensity shining in his eyes at that moment and the sureness in his voice. I blinked away the mental image and looked to see that Trevor and I had approached the locker room, and I waved goodbye to head into the adjacent offices.

Sandra was discussing something with the assistant coach when I entered her office, so I quietly gathered the PT bag and headed out to the field. I had just sat down on the bench and shut my eyes for a moment of silence when I heard shouting coming from the locker room, and a moment later, Max Caulfield came out red in the face.

He was fuming and holding his jersey in a clenched fist as his face was set in a scowl. Coach Baxter came walking out of the locker room after him shouting his name, looking equally as pissed, but Max ignored him as he stormed away. Unfortunately, his fiery gaze landed on me, and his eyes narrowed tenfold, if possible.

I stayed sitting on the bench, frozen as I watched him approach me. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Max spits as he nears me, and I jump up to stand when I realize he was coming in hot.

Behind him, a nearing Coach Baxter is still screaming, "Caulfield, stop your ass right there!"

"Are you that much of a bitch that you had to ruin football for me?" Max seethes, coming right up to my face, only leaving inches between us as he screams.

My eyes widen and I stumble backwards a step. "What are you talking about?"

Before Coach reaches us, I feel the large presence of Andrew as he puts one hand on Max's chest and shoves him backward to put space between us. I turn my wide eyed, confused gaze to Andrew as he gives Max a stern look and pushes him until there's at least a few feet between us.

"Max," Andrew grunts lowly. "Calm down and get away from Lily."

Max opens his mouth to talk again, but Coach Baxter finally gets closer, and turns Max with a rough tug on his shoulder. Max visibly calms down a little upon seeing his coach in front of him, but his hands are both clenched in fists by his side and his whole body is tense.

"Caulfield, if you don't calm the hell down right now, then I'll drop you from the team instead of a suspension," Coach Baxter says tersely. His eyes harden as he stares at Max. "Now, I need you to answer a very simple question. Can you do that?"

Max clenches his jaw and looks away as he nods slowly.

"The complaint we received wasn't from Lily," Coach says, and I only feel more lost than I did moments before as I watch Max's face contort into a panicked expression. "Did you sexually assault her, as well?"

My jaw drops all at once as I finally begin piecing things together. Someone complained to the school about Max's behavior-- apparently I wasn't the only one he had harassed-- and he had assumed it was me. I stare wide eyed as Max clenches his jaw again and looks directly at me for a brief moment before he turns to Coach Baxter.

"No," He grinds out. "I didn't."

I felt my heart stumble over itself as it began racing, and I just stood there, frozen. Finally, Coach Baxter turns to me to stare at me, silently asking me the question, but I can't speak. I can see the other guys starting to come out on the field to see what the commotion was, and I could feel the hole Andrew was burning through my head when Coach's gaze turned to me expectantly.

"Lily," Coach Baxter starts. "Is he telling the truth?" When I don't answer immediately, he adds, "I don't think it's a coincidence that he began yelling at you after I suspended him in response to a sexual assault complaint."

My heart is thudding so quickly I can hear it in my ears as I shake my head slowly. I could suddenly feel all the pairs of eyes on me, all of the attention, as he asked me such a personal inquiry that I hadn't been able to confront the seriousness of. "Yes sir," I tell him. "He's telling the truth."

Coach Baxter's hardened eyes implore mine for the truth for a moment before I hear a voice from behind him say, "No he's not," The voice says sharply. "And neither is she."

My gaze darts behind Coach Baxter to see Vincent standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a narrowed gaze pointed at Max. My eyes widened tenfold as I stare at Vincent in disbelief. All at once, the memory of Max ignoring my protests outside of the party slam into me, and I shake my head.

Vincent's gaze connects with mine as the breath knocks out of me, and all I can do is stare. Oh God, Vincent, what did you just do? I want to scream at him, ask him why he would say that, but I can't find my voice. Coach Baxter exhales a labored breath and turns to Max to say something, but I'm too deaf from the sound of my racing heart to understand.

Max turns around and walks off the field with his fists opening and clenching by his side. I stare at his retreating figure for a moment before I look back at Coach Baxter and the crowd that had formed around us. Andrew looks desperate, standing in between us, like he wants to say something to me but doesn't know how.

"Come with me, Lily," Coach Baxter says with a small nod. "We need to talk in my office." He turns around and looks at Vincent before adding, "You too, Bradshaw."

I hold my breath as we walk past all the other players and back into the offices. When we reach Coach's office, I sit in one of the chairs hesitantly, just staring at the desk in front of me. Coach Baxter sits down across from me and stares at me for a long moment without saying anything.

"Lily," He starts softly. "Can you explain to me what happened?"

I gulped as I stare at the desk, still refusing to meet his gaze. How was I supposed to tell him that I went to a party drunk and thought I was ready for something I wasn't? How was I supposed to say that one of his best players wouldn't back off when I told him to stop?