My request to receive therapy, and the reasons for that, were met with skepticism and disbelief until I asked them to call the coach in as well as the one football player – who was now a senior – who had helped me that night and called campus police and his coach.

Thankfully, the boy was honest and told them exactly what he had walked in on that night and the actions he had taken to get me help. The coach was then forced to come clean, as were the campus police officers who had responded to the situation and failed to do their duty. It turns out, the scholarship I had been receiving for free tuition and books had been pilfered from the athletic department, off the books, and the coach who swept everything under the rug and made that happen, was about to have to face the consequences of those actions.

I won’t bore you with the details, because what’s the point? It was all in the past, or at least mostly in the past. When the coach was made aware of the problems I still had as a result of what happened to me, he surprisingly broke down and cried. It didn’t save his job though. He was relieved of his duties pending an investigation into his actions. The campus police officers were also relieved of their duties. The students would not face any further action unless I pressed charges against them. Considering two of them were now playing professional football with the national league, my pressing charges would have far-reaching consequences, and be the subject of too much press for my taste.

Instead, I settled for the people who were supposed to help me, and didn’t, being held accountable. I also pressed the school to give me the therapy I needed. There was no need for furthering the scholarship I had received, since I was at the very end of my last semester in school.

Therapy was to be conducted off campus, by a professional who specialized in trauma therapy and PTSD. My first appointment was scheduled for the following Tuesday. By the time we got back to the apartment, it was almost 6 pm, and I was wiped out. I thought about canceling the dinner plans I’d made with Tucker, but for some reason, I wanted to fill him in on how everything had gone. I guess, on some level, I needed him to know that I was getting help to deal with the issues I had.

A knock on the door at 7 pm, startled me out of my thoughts, but I figured it was Tucker, who I hadn’t heard from yet. Instead, it turned out to be a courier who asked me to sign for some papers before telling me, “You’ve been served.”

“What the hell was that?” Luna asked as she quickly donned her shoes. Her shift started in an hour, so I hoped she was able to beat traffic to get there on time, especially since she had left last night to come back home and deal with me.