THREE MONTHS LATER

THE BELL RINGS JUST as Professor Greenhorn stops writing something on the blackboard.

"Don't rush off!" she shouts over the noise of cheers. "Spring term papers are due on my desk 30th March people!"

A few groans rise up from the jock crowd at the front of the room.

"And yes that means you actually have to study in Spring Break."

I laugh as I smugly think to myself that I had already finished all my assignments, so had the next two weeks entirely to myself.

"Extra credit assignments for over the summer can be found in the basket outside my office after class on Friday. I have four slots, and they're first come, first served."

There is a moment of silence as the whole class seems to be frozen.

"Okay now you can leave," she laughs, waving everyone out. "Have a lovely break, guys and gals. And for goodness sake, please do some homework?"

Some of the room laughs as she moves around her desk before we all start finally packing up our books.

As I look up, I see a boy up front waving. I check behind me to see if he's waving at someone else but there's no one there, and when I turn back he's pointing at me whilst making his way up the steps to me.

I'm in a few of his classes, as he's most likely an Art History major like me. He was my partner on a project in my first class, but I hadn't wanted anything to do with any kind of friend, always keeping to myself as much as possible. But after my promise to both Millie and myself, I decide it can't harm to make another friend in this city. And he seemed nice enough.

"Archie right?" he asks, holding out his hand for me to shake, even though he'd met me before.

I take his hand as I smile. "And you're Oliver?"

"Ollie," he corrects me. "So, is it true that you're a football legend?" he asks, clearly getting straight to the point.

My mouth bobs open and closed for a second as I try to think of an answer. "Who told you that?" I ask with a frown.

"Google," he shrugs as he laughs and I roll my eyes.

I'm about to answer him properly when Greenhorn cuts me off from below.

"Erm, boys? I have another class. So could you take your bromance outside..." she jokes, jerking her head towards the door.

Ollie and I both laugh, apologising before leave the room, pushing against the crowd of students coming in.

When we're in the corridor, Ollie stops me outside another classroom and motions with his thumb. "This is me. And that was a really weird way to break the ice, sorry."

I can't help at how he doesn't take himself too seriously.

"What I meant to say - before I stuck my fucking foot in my mouth - was that you should join us for a game later. Me and some of the boys."

I raise my eyebrows at the invitation but smile.

"We play at the field."

"You do know I play 'soccer' right?" I ask, putting soccer in air quotes. "Not American Football." The thought of playing American Football - even with someone Ollie's size - makes me cringe. I had no idea what size his friends were.

"Dude, don't worry. I'm not one of those American idiots that lives for the NFL man. We play football and we've heard you can, so you should join us."

I instinctively look down at my leg. It hadn't played up at all in the last few weeks, and I'm pushing myself harder than ever at the gym, wanting to get back to the level of fitness I was at before my accident. Maybe giving a game of football a go wasn't such a bad idea.

"Yeah. Okay sure," I say with a nod. "Count me in. When is it? Where is it, more importantly?"

"The field," he answers, and I realise he had said that. "And it's later on today. I've got class now - I'm late - but I can meet you back here at lunch? I'll introduce you to the guys."

"Sure thing," I beam with a nod before he offers me an awkward wave and pushes into the classroom next to us.

I don't have any more classes today. I'd only been planning just to head home. But seeing as my only two options were to remain my reclusive self or to buck up and make friends with actual college people, I choose the latter and head the opposite direction from home.

After ordering myself a latte from the closest coffee station, I find the nearest bench I can to the Art History building and pull out my book, hoping it would help me pass the time.

It works mostly, but my surroundings distract me after a few minutes.

The weather had changed quite a bit in the first few months of the year. After having an unseasonably warm December, January brought a huge snowstorm in from the Artic, which pretty much brought New York City to a standstill. It was below freezing, and constantly snowing, throughout January and then, by mid-February the cold finally let up and it warmed up a bit. Now, at the beginning of March, I'm sat in khaki shorts and a t-shirt, embracing the warm sunshine on my face as I listen to the hustle and bustle of campus on the last few days before Spring Break.

Unlike most other students at Columbia, I didn't have any plans for Spring Break. Millie had plans with Tessa this holiday - Croatia, I think - and seeing as I took her away from Tessa at Christmas, I couldn't really object. Lara and I had made some plans to hang out, watching loads of films no doubt, but I knew I'd be bored after a week. I'd picked up a few extra credit assignments already, minus Greenhorn's which I would pick up once she posts them on Friday.

I was planning to graduate early. Even after starting a semester late, I was now fully caught up on my credits, but still felt like I didn't belong here, so wanted to get out of here as soon as I possibly could. I enjoy my classes, and my professors are all great teachers, but something has always felt a little... off. The feeling goes away when I'm doing something - hanging out with friends, in class or even if I'm at the gym - but in times like this, when my brain is allowed to slow down enough to start thinking about things, the seeping guilt sinks back in and threatens to crush me. I was lucky that in other aspects of life, things were settling though. And I liked that it's busy. Being busy kept my mind from wandering too much, and increasingly these days, and keeping my mind from spiralling beyond my control. 

I hear a distant bell and I look up, seeing various buildings letting piles of students out, so take that as my cue to go and meet Ollie. I start making my way back to Greenhorn's classroom, but I stop when I recognise Ollie amongst a group of boys heading towards me. When he sees me, he waves, and as I get to the group, he pats my shoulder as he turns me around to face his friends.

"You stayed!" he says, nudging me.

I shake my head as I awkwardly hike up my bag.

"Guys, this is Archie, that guy I was telling you about." They all nod and a few smiles erupt on the boys faces making me wonder what Ollie had actually read about me. "Archie, this is Dan, Pete, Jared, Gus, Tab, Nate and Chris." He points around the group as he says each name and I nod, making a mental checklist.

"So I gather you got game?" the boy called Tab asks.

He looks friendly enough - his smile is wide and cheeky - but he's huge and screams everything but friendly. His shoulders are the size of Ollie's and mine put together, and I got the feeling he was more of an American Football player than a soccer player... but who was I to judge.

I shrug. "I used to have game."

"Used to?" Nate asks, frowning.

I twist my leg to show them the scars on my knees and my ankle. Some of them wince and I swear Dan goes green.

"This stopped me for a while."

"Jesus, how the fuck did you do that?" Ollie asks. "I did notice the crutches were gone actually."

"I ditched those as soon as I could... I was in a car accident. Literally the day I was supposed to come here."

All eyes widen but before anyone asks any questions, I move the subject along quickly.

"Doctors have given me a clean bill of health though. I will be rusty, but I won't let you down."

Ollie pats my shoulder as he chuckles, "That's  the spirit. I'm sure you won't."

"Haven't NYU finished though?" Pete notes but Ollie shakes his head.

"Nah, they messaged. They already texted me and said they're up for it. They also said losers are footing the bill all night at Flagstaff's, so we've got to win."

"No pressure then," I chuckle and they all laugh as we move off towards the field.

Once we reach the playing fields, already littered with various football and Ultimate Frisbee games, we spot a group of boys at the far end, dressed in NYU colours. When they notice us coming over, a couple of the boys stop their practice passing and come over to greet us at the side of the pitch. For some reason it reminds me of West Side Story, clicking gangs, and it makes me laugh.

"Who's the new kid?" the guy in the middle asks.

"This is Archie," Ollie says.

I offer my hand towards him and he takes it. "Archie Wall," I say.

A light of recognition pops into one of NYU's boy's eyes, clearly having heard the name. I try giving him a warning glare, but my threatening stare apparently isn't quite so threatening because he opens his mouth and asks the question I'd been dreading this entire time.

"You're not any relation  to that Wall Enterprises CEO that got locked up are you?" he asks with a derisive laugh, almost daring me to deny it.

All eyes turn to me and I feel like I'm being tortured as my whole body goes cold and starts sweating at the same time.

"Maybe," I admit, but only because I'd left my answer too long to deny what he'd said. I hope my stand-offish expression is enough to deter him from asking another question. Thankfully Ollie steps in just as he opens his mouth, cutting him off.

"Who cares who he is, Dyl," he says, pushing me towards where the others had started taking off jumpers. "Loser buys rounds all night, right?"

The boy scoffs again and I feel my fist tighten around my bag strap.

"Why do we need to play when Archie Boy can just pay right now?" he laughs.

"Dylan, back off," the guy in the middle warns. He's clearly the captain, because 'Dyl' does shut up. Mostly.

"I'm just say-"

"Well, don't," he cuts him off. "Leave him alone and just play."

He looks like he's about to ignore him again, but then he follows his friends. The breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding suddenly escapes me and the hotness from my chest relieves.

"Ignore Tanner. He's a dick," Ollie tells me, patting my back lightly as I drop my bag on the pile with all the others.

I keep my eyes on Tanner as he continues to back away, and he's clearly keeping his on me. But as I think about it, I can't help but think I've seen him somewhere, and not just around campus or even recently.

He may just have that kind of face, but if he knows my dad, there is probably a possibility that we have met.

"He's probably just still pissed that your dad put his dad out of business," Tab jokes.

I turn my head. "What did you say?"

"Tanner Communications?" His eyebrows raise as if I'm stupid, and to be honest I do feel a little bit stupid. "It's probably the largest case of hostile takeover in the last twenty years. Did your dad not tell you anything about that?"

I shake my head. "When was this?"

"Six years ago maybe? I remember reading about in the papers at the time, and my dad telling me. WEH came out of nowhere."

He's talking as if he's impressed, but this new information was a complete shock.

Dad never talked about business when he got home, and we never wanted to talk to him either. Talking to him about anything could mean a wallop round the ear, or worse, so we just learned to steer clear whenever he was actually home. But I do now remember Dad not really being around for about six months in the latter part of Year 10, about two years after Grandad died and he became the other, scarier version of himself.

Dad had always told me - before the drinking, and then the beatings - that business is something you always do above the table, and that underhanded dealings were the only way to lose your company...

I shake my head, shaking myself away from those thoughts before I get sucked in, just like before.

I shouldn't be caring about this stuff... I didn't then, so why am I now?

"Unfortunately, since the fallout of your dad's arrest, the situation is very much now looking like it could be the other way around..." Tab continues. "The vultures are circling, as they say..."

Ollie swipes at Tab's shoulder. "Dude, shut up. Does it look like he wants to know?" he asks, talking about me as if I wasn't standing right next to him.

"It's okay, Ollie. I do want to know," I tell Tab, shocked at myself, again, for actually caring. "But maybe not here?" I add.

Tab nods with a smile. "Hey, I'm a business major who is very happy to discuss this with a Wall legend. Dude, you have to tell me all your secrets."

My eyes widen at the fact the only secrets I had about my dad was that he used to beat me behind closed doors, and that I knew absolutely nothing about my dad. But to keep the conversation light, I go down a different line.

"Tab, I'm an Art History major... I don't know anything."

His face falls, and he looks genuinely disappointed. "What?"

I can't help but laugh as I pull off my jumper, knowing it's going to get hot.

Ollie laughs too as he swats at Tab's shoulder again. "Tab, come on, dude. Stop catching flies and go get in goal."

Tab moves off, shaking his head.

"I hope I haven't put him off his game?" I ask Ollie.

He laughs. "Tab is one of the best goalies in the state, Archie. Ain't nothing putting him off his game."

I nod, impressed as I watch Tab pull on his goalie gloves and stretch his hips.

"You really take this seriously?"

"Hell yeah, we do. Now... Are you ready for this?" he asks me, putting a hand on my shoulder and staring intently into my eyes.

"Born ready," I assure him, bumping his fist before I take my place on the field.