Spring Semester

The campus police had me in a room in Stetson Hall. Jim, Stevie and Nate had left; they’d apologized for spraying the parking lot and agreed to pay a fine out of tuition. I’d also agreed, but the cops kept me around.
“Dennis,” said the cop with the large eyebrows. “There’s a very good reason why you’re here.”
He removed a picture of the Alpha Alpha Sig Fi house, taken during the day. He laid it in front of me.
“Do you recognize that house?”
“No, sir.”
“You had best tell us the truth. It is in your interest. Lying to the police is a serious crime.”
“I’ve never seen it before in my life,” I said.
“There have been complaints about disruptions coming from this house recently. The nearest neighbors are a quarter mile away, so these are pretty loud disruptions.”
“The neighbors speculate that there’s some kind of brothel being run out of this place,” said the blonde cop. “Lots of sex stuff seems to happen.”
We were silent.
“I’m sorry officers, I don’t think I can help you with this,” I said.
They asked a few more questions. Before I left, one of the cops handed me pamphlets about sex addiction and who I could talk to on campus. I crumpled it outside and threw it in a trashcan.