The Student

Of course I know them, dude. If they wanna throw down, I’m game. Of course, if they throw a rager, there’ll probably already be alcohol already available to get fucked up on, and probably other shit too.

Well, ask them. Hell, I bet those brats would jump at the chance to impress their little friends.

We can’t use my place. It’s too small. Just tell me where to show up and I’ll be there.

C’mon. Don’t you know the Sullivans? I bet those kids would host a rager.

“For better or worse something’s always going on around here.”

“Seems like the police are still trying to crack down, makes shit a real pain when cops are everywhere.”

“Yeah well, some of us had our fakes taken away, so it’s not like I can just go to Erin Go Bragh and get a drink.”

Then shit, man, throw a party! I’ll bring the booze.

It’s on. Bring a few kegs and I can get this guy I know to DJ. All we need is a place...

Sometimes you gotta make your own party, Siobhan.

It’s dull as hell everywhere right now. It blows.

And do you know what makes it especially shitty?

She’d been trying to enjoy herself in the frat basement, that was all.

And maybe, just maybe, she’d had a bit too much to drink, and maybe the crop top she wore rode up so the underside of her bra was visible, and maybe, just maybe, she’d let herself get a bit too handy with the men and women she had been grinding against.

It was just supposed to be a fun time, a party freshman year, when Siobhan was still young and innocent and excited. And he was supposed to be a nice boy, because he lived the floor above her and was in her econ class.

Siobhan hadn’t said anything when he kissed her with too much tongue, or when he dragged her by the wrist back to their dorm or when he pushed her backwards onto his bed and took his shirt off.

But she did say something when he tried to tug her underwear over her hips. “No.”

If he’d stopped then, she wouldn’t have had to break his pinkie. But he didn’t, so she had no choice but to snap his finger like a carrot.

The bleach won’t damage the color?

Oh, it will totally fuck it up, but it looks cool.

“Well, I do like to keep my connections private to newcomers.”

“So, does knowing where I stand, or rather don’t stand, change your mind?”

“I’m hardly a newcomer to Boston. Lived here for like two years.“

Sure. What are you gonna do with it?

Soak it and then get some bleach. Duh.

Aw, shit, really? It is already dried, and it’s my favorite shirt…

Damn. I guess it’s going to become a sleep shirt.

Hey. Sad it was a bitch, didn’t say it was impossible. Give it here, yeah?

Ze nearly laughed at the accusation, “Not everyone in the town is under the Sullivans, you know that, right?”

“I’ve worked hard to keep working on my own terms, I’d rather not be mistaken for another lackey of a pair of teenagers.” ze commented before taking another sip of zer drink.

“Well, haven’t seen you in a cop uniform and haven’t seen you with my... friends...” Siobhan eyed zem suspiciously. “So excuse me for keeping my guard up, pal.”

A t-shirt. I got a nosebleed.

“It still fresh? Because if it’s dried, it’ll be a bitch and a half.”