Greek (Palm South University)

“Stay with me for a moment, Martina,” I tell her. “I know you’re tired, but can you just talk to me for a bit?”

She sighs, but holds her head up, her eyes bouncing between mine.

“Good girl. Can you tell me how old you are?”

“Nineteen.”

The ELC curses from where she’s standing behind me, but I hold out my hand to calm her so I can focus on my task.

“What’s your major?”

She makes a sticking sound with her tongue and the roof of her mouth. “Accounting. But, youknowha?” she adds, holding up a finger. “I really wanna study litratrer.”

I smile. “Literature, huh?”

“Mm-hmm,” she says with an over-exaggerated nod. “I wanna edit booksh.”

“Who’s your favorite author?”

“I read romance,” she says, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“I like romance.”

Her eyes pop open. “Really?” Then she sighs, dropping her head back against the headboard. “I wish Josh liked romance.”

She pouts, and I relax a little more. The fact that she can remember names, that she’s talking to me, that her skin isn’t cold or clammy and she’s breathing normally are all very good signs that she’s going to be okay.

“Do you like Josh?”

“Sadly,” she admits. “But he’s oblivion.”

“Oblivious?”

“That,” she says, pointing at my chest.

I chuckle again. “Well, any guy who has your attention is a lucky one.”

She nods, but then I see her start to doze again, and I sit up from the edge of the bed, turning to the ELC who looks like she’s just killed a puppy.

“She’s going to be fine,” I tell her.

“Oh, thank God,” she says on a long breath. “What do we do? Should I get some Advil or water or?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “We just need to get her lying on her side. Nothing but time can make her sober up — not food or water or a cold shower or any of that.” I glance back down at Martina and her stained shirt. “If I step out of the room, do you think you could change her top? Just get her in something clean and maybe wipe her mouth a little?”

The girl nods, and then I step out for a few minutes until she calls me back in.

“Okay, let’s get her on her side, just in case she gets sick again. We need to prop pillows and maybe bags or whatever we have around her so she can’t really move without difficulty. And if you can, stay here with her and make sure she stays on her side. Check on her every now and then. As long as she’s breathing normally, not too slow, and she’s waking up and answering your questions… she’s alright.”

When we get Martina situated, the girl slumps down in one of the desk chairs in the room, and I grab the other, sitting on it backward with my forearms perched on the top. I extend a hand for hers. “I’m Adam, by the way. Adam Brooks. I’m a Field Executive for Alpha Sigma.”

She takes my hand and shakes it gently before running a hand back through her hair again. It takes the pink band off when she does, and she looks at it begrudgingly before throwing it to the side and raking her nails over her scalp. “I’m Chandler. Chandler Simmons.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“I wish it was under better circumstances,” she remarks.

“You mean like when I ran you over last week?”

That makes her smile. “Even that was better than this.”

“Hey, I’m just glad I could help.”

“I am, too. They didn’t teach us this during training.”

“Really? I’m shocked. We went over it several times in mine.”

“Well, you’re a guy,” she shoots at me with pursed lips. “It’s acceptable for fraternity guys to get hammered. But as a sorority girl, you’re supposed to be a lady, to uphold a certain standard. They won’t even talk about what to do if a girl gets too drunk because it’s never supposed to happen.”

“That’s just naïve.”

“Welcome to the patriarchy.”

I frown. “I’m sorry. But consider me here to help however I can.”

Chandler relaxes a bit, and then she smiles, her eyes running the length of me. When she finds my gaze again, there’s nothing but true gratitude. “Thank you.”

I nod, and then a slightly uncomfortable silence falls between us — mostly because I’m remembering the tattoos hiding under her sleeves, and the well-endowed breasts hiding under her cardigan.

“Well, I should get going,” I say, standing. “Need to call my girlfriend back and explain what happened.”

I think I see a flicker of disappointment in Chandler’s eyes, but it’s gone as quick as it came, and then she stands, too. “Apologize on my behalf for stealing you away. If she ever comes to visit, I’ll take you both out to make up for it.”

“It’s all good.” I clear my throat, heading for the door, but I pause at the exit and say, “See you around?”