“I have to leave,” I murmur once I’ve fumbled for my phone— it’s nearly eleven. “I’ve got a meeting at one.”
“Terrible idea,” he argues, nipping at my ear.
“Agreed,” I answer, yawning, and sit up. Sebastian reaches forward and plays with my exposed nipple for a moment, just enough that it hardens to his touch, and I feel a swell of want within me. It’d be so easy to just turn over, swing my leg over his body, let him have me again this morning…
But it’s a meeting with the student advocacy group, where we’re supposed to unload all the intel we gathered on the first night of New Recruits Week. I wonder how the rest of Sarah’s night went with Conor— and I wonder if she’ll be in the same boat I am, struggling to explain to Farrow that having sex with a football player isn’t a bad thing by default.
Sebastian watches me get dressed, which I do slowly as possible for his benefit— and because I like the way he’s totally unashamed about staring at me. He motions for me to turn around when it comes time to pull my panties on, then makes a throaty sound when I bend at the waist to give him the best view.
“I ought to not let you go at all,” Sebastian growls.
“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” I answer, and Sebastian almost looks amused— I suspect he was going to have me make up for it regardless of my offer. I feel a surge of warmth in my stomach; I like this, the way it feels having someone— someone like Sebastian, in particular— want me so badly. It makes it even harder to walk out the door— pretty sure I deserve an award for managing it.
I’m nearly late to the meeting, cutting into the student center meeting room just as Farrow is opening up his briefcase. His silvery hair looks particularly sleek and icy in the afternoon light, and there’s a disarming glitter in his eyes, like the axe man before an execution. Sarah beat me here, and gives me a secretive sort of smile across the others. I smile back and rush to take the seat next to her. Whatever happened last night, she looks far from unhappy about it.
“Alright, let’s go ahead and begin,” Farrow says, starting the meeting by looking through stacks upon stacks of legal precedents the other students have been researching. We talk about this for a time— long enough for me to daydream about Sebastian— and then Farrow turns to me and Sarah. “You two— did you manage to attend the first celebration of New Recruits Week last night?”
“We did,” Sarah says, nodding a little too fast.
Farrow’s eyes glitter more aggressively now. “And? Anything particularly damning?”
“I have a few videos of some underage drinking happening,” Sarah says hesitantly. “But it’s so dark— any lawyer worth his salt would be able to get them thrown out.”
“Hm,” Farrow says, clearly displeased. “What about you, Miss Sawyer?”
“I didn’t get much of anything damning,” I say, shaking my head. “There was plenty of stuff happening that perhaps wasn’t the best— there was underage drinking, and I think there was some pot out back, and there were lots of girls there, but they all seemed with it. I didn’t get the impression anyone was being taken advantage of.”
Farrow’s eyes widen— I’ve said the wrong thing again, but I’m less scared of this now. I’m not sure why, exactly— maybe it’s because I actually have seen New Recruits Week firsthand. Or maybe it’s because I’m already judging myself for my relationship with Sebastian enough that I can’t handle another person’s judgment. I smile politely, but don’t rescind my words.
“Everyone there is being taken advantage of, by the system itself,” Farrow says testily.
“I agree that the football god thing is a problem, but I just—I’m not sure ending New Recruits Week is actually solving that problem. It’s curing a symptom, not a disease.”
“It’s an awfully big disease, Miss Sawyer. Part of the cure is making sure the world knows just how these men take advantage of their status, their privilege, and the countless young ladies who attend New Recruits Week functions.” Farrow pauses and clears his throat before going on. “However, I do think that perhaps we are fighting the wrong battle here. We are going up against an old boys’ club, and they’ll only close ranks when they find out what we’re doing. But…if you enemy requires harbor, give them no harbor, right?” He laughs a little, and everyone joins in but me and Sarah.
“I grew concerned about your ability to think about New Recruits Week rationally, Miss Sawyer, at our last meeting. And Miss Phillips, while I appreciated your attempts to keep Miss Sawyer honest, I suspected you might be fallible as well. So, I had an additional person present at the party last night to take photos, in case you two should find yourselves further compromised.”