Page 25 of Fighting Fate

With a sip of my beer, my mind drifts back to my freshman year. NorthRidge University, with its storybook campus, always had a way of drawing you in. The old brick buildings, the historic library—it's like stepping into another world. And now, here I am, a senior, trying to show these young guns the ropes. They've got a lot to learn, but they'll get there. Just like I did.

This campus, it's like something from a dream. The ivy-clad buildings, the bricks steeped in years of history; they speak to you. Every corner, every stone pathway here is drenched in memories. The main buildings, with their weathered charm, always make me think I'm stepping into a Harry Potter movie. And the library—it's like something out of a fairy tale, with its soaring spires and stained glass windows. Walking under these ancient trees, watching their shadows dance on the paths, there's a sense of magic in the air. But now, as a senior, there's this bittersweet tang, knowing my time here is coming to a close.

Mentoring these guys—Cam, Gunner, and Deven—it's a trip. They're good kids, full of energy and mischief. Like that time they hid my keys just for kicks, or swiped my towel, leading to my infamous towel-less strut to the women's locker room. I showed them who's boss, but I can't help but laugh at their antics. It reminds me of my own freshman year, which was a wild ride of parties, flings, and just scraping by academically. I was living like there was no tomorrow, making up for lost time after a childhood overshadowed by illness.

Life handed me a rough start, no doubt. Squaring off against brain cancer at just seven, my childhood felt like navigating a relentless storm—each day wrapped in uncertainty, every breath a fight for something more. College, though, was my horizon of freedom. I lunged at life with everything I had, determined to soak up every experience far from my parents' watchful eyes. Their advice on reigning in the partying or keeping my head in the game? It just bounced off me. I was too caught up in proving that I wasn't just a survivor—I was a thriver, ready to leave my mark, unfettered and unafraid.

But as you grow, things change. My dreams, my ambitions, they've taken a different shape. I always thought I'd follow my dad's footsteps straight into the NFL, aiming for the Texans. It was part of the plan, part of my identity.

Did I want it? Hell yes. But doubts crept in, whispers in the back of my mind. Was I strong enough, fast enough, durable enough to make it? Those thoughts could've broken me, but they didn't. They made me tougher, more determined. I had already stared down cancer and won; I wasn't about to let anything else beat me. Keeping that fire alive in my heart, despite the odds, has been my driving force.

So fourteen years ago, after I walked out of that hospital, I set my eyes on a single goal: to be the greatest NFL player there ever was. To a seven-year-old kid fresh out of a cancer ward, that meant embracing a life filled with the things I loved most: football, wealth, and women. It sounded like the ultimate dream.

But as the years rolled by, my perspective began to shift. People change, right? With each passing year, I found myself questioning, reassessing my dreams. One thing, though, remained constant—my desire to make a difference, to help people. My own battle with illness had shown me how crucial doctors and nurses were. Their impact on my life planted a seed, a purpose I hadn't fully grasped until recently. And then, like a bolt out of the blue, it hit me.

Here's the crazy part: I want to be a doctor. A total departure from my childhood dream, sure, but it just feels...right. The idea of saving lives, of being that crucial part of someone's survival story, it's indescribable.

So, since junior year, I've been hustling—studying hard, keeping my eyes on the prize of medical school. It's tough, but something inside me knows it'll be worth it. This new path has been my little secret; I haven't told my friends or family. They wouldn't understand why I'd want to give up an NFL career. But when I think of my future, it's always in blue scrubs, either in an operating room or teaching the next generation of doctors.

"There you are, handsome," Leah purrs, latching onto my arm as she sidles up next to me at the party.

Does Leah's constant attention bother me? Not really. It's convenient, keeps other girls at bay, and guarantees a bit of fun later. But my mind short-circuits because Milli's nearby, and the last thing I want is her catching me with another girl on my arm. Not that I owe her any explanations, but still.

I look around for her, but she's disappeared from where she was just moments ago.

Leah's hand creeps up my thigh, heading into dangerous territory, but instead of the usual thrill, I feel...off. With Milli somewhere in this room, everything's different. I gently but firmly hold Leah's hand in place, stopping her advance. Her eyes flash a brief flicker of surprise and maybe disappointment, but then she's back to her usual self, trying to inch closer again.

But I'm not feeling it, not tonight, not with Milli around. It's confusing and frustrating. I need to find her, see where she went. Maybe then I can figure out what the hell is going on with me.

"I figured you'd be dragging me home by now," Leah teases, her voice a silky whisper.

I let out a sigh, rolling my eyes slightly. It's like a script these girls follow—the star athlete, the frat boy charm; they eat it up. But honestly, I'm past that stage now. Seeing my freshmen behaving like they've got no care in the world, especially with an early morning waiting, just makes me shake my head.

"Nah, I'm just chilling with the guys tonight," I reply casually, nodding toward the two remaining of my trio. Cam's vanished into the crowd again.

Then, a sudden burst of laughter catches my attention. It's Milli, perched on the kitchen counter, the center of a chaotic scene of party debris. And there's Cam, leaning in toward her with a look in his eye that sets off every alarm in my head.

A belly shot. Of all the shit . . .

I'm up on my feet before I even realize, leaving Leah stumbling beside me. "One sec, I've gotta handle something." I stride toward the kitchen. "Or someone..." I mutter.

It's like I'm on autopilot, my focus entirely on Milli and Cam. I push past Cam, my hand moving instinctively to tug down Milli's top, covering her.

"Chasen, what the hell, man?" Cam protests, annoyance flaring in his eyes.

I fix him with a hard stare. "Back off, Hines."

I'm on the verge of pulling Milli away from here, but just as I'm about to act, she gazes up at me, her cheeks rosy from laughter, her eyes alight with vivacity. It catches me off guard—she appears so...vibrant.

"So, you're stepping in if you're sidelining Cam?" She cocks an eyebrow, her lips curved in a mischievous smile.

"Oh, just fucking great," I mutter.

There's a palpable tension in the air as I try to figure out my next move. Milli, who's usually more reserved, seems to be enjoying this daring departure from her norm. Cam, on the other hand, is grinning like a Cheshire cat, obviously getting a kick out of the situation.

I take a moment to steady my nerves. "Milli, I don't think this is a good idea," I say softly, trying to sound reasonable yet firm.

Her eyes lock with mine, a blend of defiance and playfulness. "What's the matter? Scared, Sunshine?" she goads, her tone laced with a challenge that unexpectedly sends a shiver through me. I'm aware that I should be putting an end to this—that I need to remind myself this is Milli. Yet, there's something about her boldness, her spark, that's undeniably captivating.