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He looked up, and I did, too. I realized there was not one phone to be seen. In a day and age when people record everything, there was not one device on display. Tituss said, “We all have NDAs, too. Our consequences are much worse than financial ruin. Trust me.”
He kept walking, and as Potter got his blowjob, we got a lecture. Tituss said, “This house is within the XIX frat. We acknowledge that, and we are proud to be a part of an elite brotherhood. Sophomore House doesn’t have a problem finding people to fuck. You will not trade sex for your chores. You will not leave here with your chores incomplete. If you make it past the second week, you will be offered a room in the Bunny House. That will become your space. Your home. You may not have any male inside that house without a brother present to monitor it. You will not fuck anyone that is not part of—do you have a problem with that?”
He was standing in front of me, looking at me. “No.” Yes. I had so many fucking problems with that.
He didn’t move from in front of me as he continued. “As I was saying. You will not fuck anyone that is not part of this fraternity, and before anyone from another house can have access to you, they must ask us. You belong to us. This house. No one else. You earn those ears, then you will wear them. You will.” He tilted his head and said, “Office. Right now. Dane, take over.”
I was escorted to the office I blew him in a short while ago. I don’t know why I am in trouble. I didn’t say anything. The door slammed behind me, and I jolted. Tituss said, “Just fucking quit, Harper!”
“Why would I do that?” I asked.
“You didn’t even sign it, did you? Read it? Nothing. You have no fucking idea what you have to give up to be here and do this, and for what? A decent wage? It’s not worth it. To sell your fucking soul to the devil just to prove a point. I got it. I get it. Point fucking made. You can do anything, be anyone. You’re just as good as Cassidy in every fucking way. Right? That’s always been your issue. You want what she has but have no idea what she had to do to get any of it.” He was pissed but exhausted. He dropped into the chair, and then a moment later, I heard a printer.
I admitted, “I uh. I did not exactly follow the steps to uh…get here. I overheard someone talking the other person out of it. I saw the bracelet and the flyer, and I…took her spot.”
He nodded. “A pink bracelet and a flyer. Looks like fun, right? Simple enough. Go to an elite house, meet some guys with ancient family money, nice prospects, makes sense. For them. For sheep. For women who are ready to bend the fucking knee like every one of us she meets is her king. This all came about because of one girl. One stupid girlfriend read some bullshit book that made her think the reality is better than fiction. Only, in reality, when you tell your psychotic and obsessed boyfriend you think his friends are cute, and you wouldn’t mind if he shared you with them if that’s what he wanted—”
Was he talking about us? I didn’t read any book. He didn’t exactly pass me around like a bag of popcorn. No one other than him fucked me. Some could look and not touch. Some could only touch what was allowed, but his was the only cock that penetrated.
He was pulling a pen out of the drawer and not paying attention to me as he continued, “So he does. He fucking comes downstairs and then turns that little fantasy into a nightmare for several people, including me. Dubious consent. You remember that word, don’t you?”
He is definitely talking to me, not at me now. I nodded. He arched his brow. “Yes.” He needed me to say it. Needed me to say it out loud and with meaning. Though it wouldn’t matter in a court of law anyway.
“What does it mean again?” he asked and organized the papers that just came off the printer. “Tell me.”
Like he could forget. “It’s used in fiction.”
“Fiction.” He snorted a sound. “And in the courtroom during my case. Go on.”
“Tituss, I—”
“Say it. No excuses, Harper. Say it. Tell me what it means.” He was giving me a new expression. One I had never seen before on his handsome face. He’s changed. It’s only now, right now, at this moment, that I realized how much he’d changed. On the outside, he was still sandy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, golden tan, boy next door charm with the bonus of money and means, apple fucking pie. Inside, behind that façade, something had changed, and I knew him but didn’t.
“It’s when someone doesn’t know or is uncertain about the state of consensual actions. Doing something because they have desires or needs or possibly wants to, but hasn’t thought the consequences out all the way and might not if—”
“Rape.” He said the word, and I flinched. “Rape is what we were charged with, Harper. Not dubious fucking consent.”
I jolted and nodded. “The lawyer…we’ve been through this before.”
I wasn’t going to keep apologizing for that. He shook his head. “No. Me either. I just wanted you to know that I realized that night, last year, when Dougie’s girlfriend was brought down to us, offered to us, I understood what it meant, finally. I saw a woman who was saying yes and possibly meaning no with my own eyes. Probably wanting to say no about the second guy into it, but she had said yes, so…what was she supposed to do? She asked for it. He told us that. Told us to give her what she asked for.”
I took a step back. That was not how things happened with us. “Tituss.”
“What’s worse is the fact that I realized I was just as fucking violated because I didn’t want to be there to begin with. A freshman, too much of this heat on me already without seven other guys involved. I knew for sure I didn’t want to do anything. Just like that scared kid, Mark. He ran. I couldn’t run. Where would I even go? This is the last place I applied to. The safety school. After—this was the only choice I had.” He pushed the stack with the pen on top of it toward me. “And then I realized it wasn’t the first time in my life that a young girl wanted something she didn’t fully understand the consequences of getting.”
Then he shocked the shit out of me and said, “You remember that second date? The movie theatre?”
My blood was suddenly rushing faster, and I had been on edge since being directed to this space. “Yes.”
“You put your hand on my thigh, then moved it up, cupped me, rubbed, teased.” I gulped. He said, “And when you did that, what did I say?”
I shook my head. I did not want to answer this question. They did not ask this in that courtroom. He said, “Say it. Refresh my memory.”
“Not here.” I closed my eyes. The memory surged just like the words in my throat. “But.”
“But you did it anyway. You stopped a moment, then started that tease with your finger on my thigh and then up and up until you were touching me. Again. And I said—” He pointed at me.
It was barely a sound. “Stop.”
