We're Just Not Set Up For It

Sarah was feeling kind of dizzy and warm. When she stood up, she felt an urge to lean on someone, and so she did. She leaned on the frat boy nearest her. He was a pledge, she could tell. He wasn't drinking, and there were only two reasons for that. She hoped to God it was her pledge theory.
"You a pledge?" she asked, trying to stand on her own.
"Yeah," he said, trying to help her.
"Good, good," she said. "You got a big bro?" she asked.
"Yeah."
"Take me to 'im pretty please." The pledge put his hand respectfully around her waist to support her. She buried her face in his shoulder. He smelled like Axe and sweat--but not quite body odor. Just a good smell. She told him so. She smiled a small smile at no one in particular, and he looked at her with raised eyebrows. "What year are you?" he asked, purely conversationally. "Sophomore," she said. That's only a year older than me, he thought. He had thought she seemed very mature. She had one of those faces--it looked smart.

"Here he is, ma'am," he said, aiming for silly, but presenting formal.
"Hey boy. Wuss your name?" she was nearly incomprehensible now.
"Uh, Tyler." he said hesitantly. And he braced himself for the kiss that he had seen coming. He kissed her for a moment, but when her hands made her intentions clear, he gently pulled her off. "You're too drunk. I can have my lil bro drive you home.
Her feelings were hurt and she was embarrassed. She started to walk away, and Lil Bro followed her. He didn't know if she had a ride, and she knew he would follow her. She had planned this out. She wanted it to happen in the house, but she knew a pledge wouldn't live there. She wasn't giving up.

He held her around her waist again, trying to be the boy his mama had raised; the man his fraternity expected him to be. They didn't take advantage of girls. She was just too drunk. But she is hot. They marched on towards the car. They both knew where that night would end, although Lil Bro was still trying to talk himself out of it, deep down he knew his mind was made up. In the car, he kept his eyes forward and started driving. "Where am I taking you?" he asked, aiming for formal, but presenting silly. "You're taking me to your room," she said. He smiled, trying not to laugh. He was so nervous.
"How do you know my hall doesn't have a guest policy?"
"Your parking pass. You live in McNary. That's coed floors. They don't give a shit. Besides. It's Friday night." Maybe she wasn't as drunk as he had thought. He already felt less guilty.
"Very observant, " he said. And he pulled into a spot that was remarkably close considering the time of night. Someone must have just left.

In his room she made him uncomfortable. She touched his things. She picked up his pictures. She was rough with him. She was not a small girl. He became unsure, but he was in too deep now. He couldn't make her leave, and she was still hot. He still wanted her...

And when they were finished she said, "Good thing I won't remember that tomorrow," she said. "What's your name again?" He answered her. Then she took the bed and made it clear his place was on the floor. Then she put her phone in her bra. She'd already set an alarm on vibrate for 9:00am, which was earlier than any college boy would wake up on a Saturday morning.

She woke up to a buzzing between her breasts. And almost intuitively she redressed herself. Found her purse, and in her red stilettos she stepped on Lil Bro's hand as she left his room. He looked up at her, awakened by the pain. His face was all confused sadness. Her's... was complicated.

Her brows were furrowed, and her smudged liner and mascara gave her the pathetic eyes worn on every Walk of Shame. But her eyes did not hold the anger that her brows attempted to shape. They held desperation. And her nose. Her nose wrinkled part in disgust and part in apology.  Her lips curled in on themselves, hiding their artfully sculpted, full body. Their absence made clear the intention behind the placement of her heel, but the downward arc of the crease spoke of regret.

And suddenly she dropped to the ground. She cried and cried. Unsure of what to do, Lil Bro watched until he finally willed himself towards her. He knew she'd stepped on his hand on purpose. She'd practically beat him the night before, had forgotten his name, and had sad cruel things... but he held her in his arms. He rocked her and was silent. She let him. She felt she had hurt him enough. She stopped crying, but put her head in his lap.

"You know what isn't fair?" she asked him.
"Tell me," he said.
"We're just not set up for it. Women can't rape men."

It was a Saturday morning in early October.