Page 38 of Unbound
"That's dangerous," Elijah said quietly, and his voice cut through all the others. "Adrian, if you do this, there's no going back. You'll be forcing him into a corner where he has to choose between his beliefs and his grade, between his programming and his education. That's not giving him options."
"Sometimes people need to be backed into corners," I said. "Sometimes that's the only way they realize they have the strength to fight their way out."
Elijah was quiet for a long moment, studying my face with those sharp eyes that never missed anything.
"And if he doesn't fight his way out?" he asked finally. "If he just breaks instead?"
I looked at the photo one more time, at Jesse's face frozen in that moment of desperate longing, and made my choice.
"Then I'll help him put himself back together," I said. "Differently this time."
Monday morning arrived with the kind of crisp air that made everything feel possible. I got to Constitutional Law early, choosing a seat with a clear view of the door so I could watch Jesse's face when he walked in. I'd spent the weekend researching partnership manipulation techniques and had what I considered a foolproof plan.
Professor Okonkwo was already at his desk, organizing papers with the same methodical precision he brought to everything. He was one of those professors who commanded respect without demanding it, the kind of teacher who could make you rethink everything you thought you knew about the world just by asking the right questions.
Students trickled in gradually. I spotted Jesse the moment he appeared in the doorway, scanning the room with his usual careful caution. Our eyes met briefly—that jolt of electricity I was getting used to—before he looked away and chose a seat three rows ahead and to the left. Far enough to avoid me, close enough that I could watch the tension in his shoulders.
"Good morning, class," Professor Okonkwo said as the clock hit nine. "I hope you've all had a productive weekend, because we're diving into the deep end today. It's time to discuss your semester project."
A ripple of attention moved through the room. Everyone knew about Okonkwo's legendary debate assignment.
"You'll be working in pairs to research and present oral arguments for landmark constitutional cases. These aren't just academic exercises—you'll be graded on legal reasoning, persuasive technique, and your ability to embody the advocacy role of a constitutional lawyer."
He moved to the board and began writing case names in his neat handwriting.Brown v. Board.Roe v. Wade.Miranda v. Arizona. And there, fourth on the list:Obergefell v. Hodges.
My pulse kicked up.
"Partnerships will be assigned randomly," he continued, and I felt my carefully constructed plan crumbling. "I'll be drawing names from two containers to ensure fairness and prevent students from choosing partners based on friendship rather than complementary skills."
Shit. All my research into partnership manipulation was useless if he was actually randomizing it.
But then he smiled slightly, the way he did when he was about to make a point. "However, I've already reviewed your academic records and writing samples to create partnerships that will challenge you intellectually. Some of you will find yourselves working with classmates whose perspectives differ significantly from your own. This is intentional. The law requires you to argue positions you may not personally agree with. Better to learn that skill in a controlled environment."
My hope flickered back to life. If he'd reviewed our records, if he knew about our different backgrounds...
"Let me announce the partnerships and case assignments," he said, picking up a sheet from his desk. "Remember, both partners will argue the same side—this is collaborative advocacy, not debate against each other."
He began reading names. I tried to look casual while every muscle in my body was wound tight with anticipation.
"Henderson and Patel, you'll be arguingMiranda v. Arizonafor the respondent..."
"Clark and Washington,Brown v. Boardfor the petitioner..."
Each name that wasn't mine was a small disappointment, each case assignment that passedObergefellby was another door closing.
"Rodriguez and Chen,Roe v. Wadefor the petitioner..."
And then:
"Miller and Costas."
Jesse went completely still. I could see it from three rows back—the way his shoulders locked, the way his pen stopped moving mid-word.
"You'll be arguing the petitioner's side inObergefell v. Hodges."
The blood drained from Jesse's face so quickly I was genuinely concerned he might faint. His hand gripped his pen so tightly I could see his knuckles go white.
Professor Okonkwo continued reading assignments, but I wasn't listening anymore. I was watching Jesse's profile, seeing the moment when the full implications hit him.
