Spring Semester

I collapsed on top of her. My head touched down on her pillow, my eyes pummeled in to her sprawled hair which cracked my vision like a movie screen breaking down before soft blackness. My orgasm felt like it took two minutes.
Her exhales were long and loud and sounded like she said ‘Ga’ over and over. She squeezed me twice with her arms and legs and I didn’t want this to end.

When I got back to my room, I found a note on the door:

MEET US AT THE BACK OF STORM AT 5:30.
WE KNOW YOU DON’T HAVE CLASS THEN.
WE KNOW YOU WON’T REGRET IT.

There I was, at the back of Storm Hall. I didn’t see anybody. I don’t usually smoke, but I was smoking a cigarette then, because I was nervous. I don’t usually get nervous. Only in my dreams. I try (and succeed) to not give a shit about the slightest thing on the outside, and as a catch 22 I have nightmares. This felt like a dream.
Two dudes came up to me from the path behind the dumpster. They were carrying textbooks and wearing preppy sweaters, but I felt like I’d seen them both before. One of the guys—the dark haired one—nodded at me, and kept ignoring me. For another few seconds.
“Dennis,” said the light haired dude.
“What’s up,” I said and dropped my cigarette and stepped on it.
“Trey,” he said. I shook his hand.
“Brent,” said the dark haired guy. I shook his hand.
There was a pause.
“Let’s cut to the chase,” said Brent. “We’ve heard stories about you.”
“The whole campus has heard stories about you,” said Trey.
“Now let’s get real. Some people think you’re disgusting, a weirdo, a horrible person,” Brent said. “But we think you’re just one of us.”
“We want to induct you in to Alpha Alpha Sig Fi,” Trey said.
“The what?” I said it loudly.
“We’re a secret frat,” said Brent.