The Will To

F O U R T E E N (the jacket)

If I was expecting the parties on Greek Row to look any different come Friday night, I would've been in for a rude awakening. But I wasn't delusional. Even a rape wasn't enough to put a damper on the start of the weekend festivities.

Lyla's rape was being treated as a warning; faculty made statements towards women to watch their alcohol consumption and be more alert during parties. The actual assault had taken place at Lyla's empty sorority house. She had gone home, alone, after drinking too much and was raped in her own bedroom. No one was attacked in the middle of a party, so it was apparently deemed the safest place to be.

Besides, people needed to party after five days of suffering in the classroom, otherwise they might explode—or something. I wasn't entirely sure. But something terrible must happen if you failed to drink your weight in alcohol the second class let out on Friday.

Nola was hesitant to leave me against the back wall at her sorority when Rose flashed her claws and pulled her away for sister duties. Though she didn't outright say it, I knew Nola worried about me. The dainty crinkle of her forehead and pinched mouth didn't lie. She was afraid to leave me alone at another party where a rape had occurred only two weekends ago.

'Don't kill her!' I mouthed to Nola as she dissolved into the crowd of people with Rose, hoping it was enough to release her mind from my weight. She didn't need to worry about me. I could take care of myself. My temper might be a loose cannon at times, but I had enough restraint to point it at those who really deserved to be fired at. It wasn't like I was going to whip the concealed pepper spray out of my pocket and start dousing everyone in sight.

I had tact, believe it or not. I was mature enough to know my pepper spray wasn't a toy.

Most days.

Minutes passed. The crowd in front of me looked the same, like they were traveling in a time loop and reliving the best minutes of their lives over and over again. The thought was alienating. I was used to feeling like an outsider (i.e., the wall and I were great pals—no, soul mates) but watching everyone dressed in their Greek best while throwing back beer, laughing, and sweating profusely in the wake of their fellow member having been raped made me feel even further removed. I had thought of little else over the last two weeks, while it seemed like my peers had thought of little else than the party they were currently enjoying.

My temper was flaring. I needed to leave before I punched the guy who had been trying to make eyes at me for the last ten minutes. He smiled as I walked by and I replied with my fiercest scowl. Maybe in another lifetime I would have been a girl enthralled to be on the receiving end of flirtatious gestures. But I wasn't that girl. I was the girl who was planning on using my first sexual experience as a weapon to dismantle the carelessness of guys who used women as objects, as exhibited by Reid.

Maybe he was here tonight. Nola had mentioned he should be, but that may have been her attempt to keep me from straying from her sorority's party. I wasn't sure it would matter if he was here. I needed to leave.

The sidewalks were nearly empty. Like the first frost, the bridge between fall and winter had been laid. The night was frigid, and my bones felt brittle. As I sauntered down Greek Row, I kept my jacket pulled tight, but my legs were exposed to the chill.

I came to a stop when I passed the front porch of the Beta Theta Phi house. A familiar voice caught my attention. Light spilled over the small area and illuminated Rey as he talked on his phone. He caught me staring and said, "Hey, I gotta go. Call you tomorrow?" before slipping the phone into his back pocket.

Something warm spread over my exposed legs. I kept walking and called, "You didn't have to hang up on my account! I'm not staying."

Rey paced down the stairs and caught up with me. "That's fine. I'm sick of being inside there anyway."