"You like that?"
"Yes. Yes! Oh God! Yes!"
"Fuck yeah, you like that," Pete calls as he slams in again, yanking a leg higher into the air at an angle I didn't think was humanly possible. I wince. Seriously, is the human body meant to bend that way?
"Fuck me..."
"That's what I'm doing baby."
"Pete?" I stammer out, my brain spinning to take in the scene before me.
"That's right. Say my name."
"PETE!" I screech.
"Wha?" Pete stammers. His hips are still bucking, and I wince again as Pete's rhythm goes off kilter when he swings his head around to see me standing in his open doorway.
"Fuck! Audrey!" Pete yells, half stumbling, half falling off of the bed and out of the girl who is definitely not me.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, using the bed and the nightstand to steady himself. An avalanche of cups tumbles to the floor, disturbed by Pete's flailing. "I thought you had your discussion section."
"My T.A. cancelled, I think he fucked up his dissertation." My voice sounds robotic to my own ears. A weird sensation settles over me, and I feel like I am watching the scene from outside of my body. My eyes zero in on Pete's still erect dick, glistening with the juices of another woman. Pete isn't wearing a condom. He always complains about me making him wear a condom. I'm not sure what makes my brain note the lack of prophylactic as I continue explaining my presence to my boyfriend.
"I thought I'd surprise you and we could go for It's FRI-ed-rice-DAY so say sake it to the week," I explain. I think I'm in shock.
"Fuck," Pete repeats.
"Yeah, I think you're already doing that."
Pete glances down at his dick, seeming to realize he is standing there with his most favorite appendage hanging in the wind for me to take my anger out on when I snap out of this daze. Pete's hand shoots out, yanking a pillow out from under the girl. Her head is still bouncing on the mattress as Pete places the pillow in front of his groin. Pete's hands clamp onto the front of the pillow, forming a padded cup over his weakest point. I catch his fortification out of the corner of my eye, my focus staying on the girl. An annoyed look darkens her faces, but she does not cover herself. A cascade of red curls, a shade that you can't find in nature, spills across her face before fanning out on the bed around her. Her naked breasts bounce with every heavy breath she sucks in. They've been going at it hard, or she is out of shape, but she doesn't look out of shape right down to her... is... is that... huh. She has a bedazzled crotch. Well, that isn't something you see every day. How do they even stay on? The girl arches her back up off the bed, drawing attention to her crotch. I let out a little squeak, my eyes flitting up past her face, noticing her arms are bound to the headboard over her head.
"Are those our cuffs from O Brother, Where Art Thou?" I ask, now that my eyes are off the jeweled vagina and focused on the headboard. "The cuffs from the night we met?" The question feels stupid the moment I ask it, but I still need to know.
"Umm, listen..."
"Baby, Petey, who the fuck is this?" The girl moans, arching her back and angling her sparkling crotch at Pete. Her move has the intended effect; Pete's eyes snapping down to the uncarpeted space. His attention lingers for a second.
"She's um..." Pete stutters. It is easy to figure out which head has all the blood right now.
"I'm his girlfriend." I snap. The disassociated foggy feeling is dissipating, and my ire is rising. "Who are you?"
"Nice try. You are definitely not his girlfriend," she sneers. "We've been seeing each other for weeks now. Babe, can you get rid of this freak and get back to me? I was so close and it felt sooo good."
"What the fuck? What. The. Fuck? WHAT THE FUCK PETE?!"
"Fuck," Shane swears loudly from behind me. I wheel, turning so I can see Shane, Pete, and the chick all at once. "Dammit it Pete! I told you to cut this shit out. I told you Audrey was going to catch you."
"You knew!" I scream at Shane the same time the chick in the bed yells "What the fuck do you mean you told him Audrey was going to find out. Are you kidding me?" A loud clanging sounds from the bed. From the corner of my eye, I can see the chick is yanking against the cuffs, her hands still above her head. When her hands remain bound, she scrambles backwards, pushing herself into a seated position.
"I... Audrey, this... Cora it..." Pete stammers.
"Get me out of these fucking cuffs."
"Fuck!" Pete yells, shuffling to his nightstand.
"Audrey, come into the kitchen with me," Shane urges, taking my arm by the elbow. "You don't... you..., let him get her out of here and then you can yell at him or kill him or whatever you want to do, but you shouldn't torture yourself standing here and watching this."
I'm numb again. Without a fight, I let Shane guide me into the tiny kitchen. I'm not even sure if Shane is saying anything as we cross the apartment; I'm too lost in my head. How did this happen? We were so happy. There weren't any signs. Sure, things are busy with us both having rush and new pledges in our houses on top of classes. And yeah, we've had a little less time together, but we still spend all the free time we do have with each other. I'm with Pete almost every night of the week. Even if we are busy with house stuff and school, we still at least spend the night together. Was Pete fucking her and then coming into my bed to have sex with me? Or worse, was I sleeping in the same bed Pete had just fucked some other girl in raw dog? How could he do this?!
"Audrey?"
"Huh?"
"Do you want some water or alcohol?"
"No. Wait, yes. Alcohol. What do you have?" I wave my hand, immediately dismissing my question. "I don't care actually, just give me whatever."
The kitchen door is closed, but that doesn't stop the sound of screaming and a door slamming. A moment later, the kitchen's swinging door flings open. The warped wood catches on the frame, wedging itself into an open position. A single bulb fixture on the impossibly tall ceiling is the only light source for the outdated space. The dull light of the kitchen doesn't quite reach Pete, his dark frame hovering in the doorway as Shane sets down a glass in front of me. Not bothering to see what is in the glass, I slam back the drink, cheap liquor burning my throat.
Pete steps into the room and kicks the door free. He hovers just inside the doorway of the kitchen; the door swinging in and out in ever decreasing arcs behind him. Pete found a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, but his brown hair is still shaggy and screams sex. Pete's brown eyes, almost the identical color to his hair, look sad as they drag past my own eyes. My own eyes feel hard. I watch Pete's focus land somewhere on the floor. Pete's 6'1" frame seems to shrink a little under my withering glare. He runs a hand through his hair, the t-shirt lifting. My eyes catch the little strip of skin above his waistband that appears from the movement. Pete isn't wearing any underwear. That is probably a weird observation to make.
"Those were our meet cute cuffs, weren't they?"
"Yes."
"You were fucking another girl while you thought I was in class with the thing that is a symbol of the night we met?"
Pete stays silent.
"Why? How long? Why?" My voice sounds hard and hallow to my own ears, but I can feel a tsunami of emotions building. I push everything in me into building a wall to hold that devastation back, to hold on to this detached and angry feeling a little longer. Some part of my brain recognizes this is going to hurt and is trying to put that off for as long as possible.
"I'm going to give you two some privacy," Shane announces, pushing the refilled glass towards me with a sympathetic look before making his way out of the room. I take the shot, the burn from the cheap booze doing nothing to compete with the ache that is forming in my chest. The wall my brain is trying to erect is failing; my mind catching up to what my eyes just witnessed.
"How long?" I pull in a deep breath, steeling myself for the answer I want, but don't want. Why did my T.A. have to have a complete meltdown and ruin my life?
"It was just this one time," Pete lies. I know it's a lie.
"She and Shane both said it was weeks. How long?"
"Fuck." Pete runs his hands through his hair again, tugging. "I—it—I—fuck. You know I love you..."
I snort, rolling the empty glass between my hands. "Yeah. Really looks like you love me."
"You're great. You are an amazing girlfriend. I love you and I care about you and I made a mistake, but I never meant to hurt you."
"How. Long." The words are hard, making it clear I want answers, not pretty words.
"We met at third invite."
I blanch. Third invite for fraternity rush at Worobey involves an intimate party for the brothers and rushees. It is a chance for the brothers to show the potential new members what kind of girls they can pull if they join that house. Yeah, I know, it's a gross tradition. Third invite falls right in the middle of sorority rush, so third invite never involves us, even though the sororities are who the frats exclusively socialize with outside of the rush process. It makes the practice even weirder. Most of the houses troll campus, handing out invites to random girls they probably will never talk to again. Some houses opt for bring in professionals for this round, or just take a field trip to a strip club for the night.
My mind races back to that night. This year, third invite for ΠΖΓ fell on the last night of sorority rush house tours and a voting night for us. We were in our chapter room until almost four a.m., debating and casting votes on which girls we would invite back for the next round. When we finally finished up, I headed to Pete's, letting myself in and crawling into bed with him. We had sex that morning. Pete had been less than quiet as he got ready to go to the gym, taking advantage of "accidentally" waking me up for some quick morning sex. I was exhausted, but with as little as we were seeing each other I didn't want to turn Pete down. So, I mustered up what little energy I had to try to give Pete some fantastic sex to make up for all the time we weren't spending together.
"Did you sleep with her that night?" I ask. My tone is cool.
"No."
"Is Shane going to say no if I ask him?"
Pete hits the counter. His sudden outburst causes me to jump in my seat, but I keep my eyes on him. I know the look I am giving Pete is cold and hard. Pete's frustration at being caught and having to answer my questions is starting to roll under his skin. It doesn't deter me in the slightest.
"Fuck! Yes, ok? I slept with her. I was lonely. I missed you. You didn't have any time for me. You haven't had any time for me since we got back this semester. It's like you don't even want to be with me."
"It's like..." I start, completely stunned by what Pete is saying. I can't finish the sentence. My mind is spinning too fast to form a response to Pete's accusation; it's still reeling from the blow of learning Pete has been cheating for weeks, and now this.
I pull my eyes from the spot on the table they involuntarily drifted to, locking Pete in a gaze that would make any Stepford wife proud. "Did you fuck her in your bed that night?"
"Yes baby, but it didn't mean..."
"Don't fucking tell me it didn't mean anything!" I scream.
"Did you at least wear a fucking condom?"
"No, she doesn't mind if we go without. She's on the pill."
"You have got to be fucking..." I trail off, anger shoving itself to the forefront of the swirling emotions jockeying to spew forth. "YOU ASSHOLE! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!"
"Baby," Pete coos, reaching for me. I dodge, knocking the chair over as I bolt out of his range.
"Do not touch me. Don't Touch Me!" My breathing is quick. Hovering just out of Pete's reach, it feels like my body is vibrating from the emotions I'm barely containing.
Pete yanks back his arm, holding his hands up in a placating manner. "Okay, okay, just calm down."
"Calm down. CALM DOWN. You were screwing another girl behind my back in the same bed you made love to me in, and you didn't even have the decency to wear protection. Who knows what kind of STDs you gave me! And you have the nerve to tell me to calm down! FUCK YOU!"
Anger is coursing through my body. I need to scream. I need to yell. I need to get this feeling that is building inside of me out. I need to break something. Spotting the empty glass, I grab it, throwing the drink-ware in Pete's direction.
"Shit," Pete shrieks, dodging the glass that was never in a million years going to hit him. I have better aim than that. If I wanted to hit Pete, that glass would have smacked him straight between the eyes. The glass slams into the wall behind Pete, shattering into a million pieces.
"Fucking bitch." Pete's eyes whip from the broken glass to me. Something snapped inside of him when the glass shattered. Furor now dances behind Pete's previously placating eyes. "You're crazy!"
"Fuck off! I can't believe I ever let you touch me."
The door for the kitchen swings open. Shane, with a hand in front of his face to protect it from any arrant projectiles, steps into the room, stopping whatever retort Pete was about to fling at me.
"Cali, I thought you might, uh, I called Dale, and he gave me Joy's number who told me to call Jennie and well uh she's here."
Jennie shoves her way past Shane, not at all concerned something will come flying her way. Jennie's eyes blaze with a thirst for vengeance as she focuses in on Pete and announces, "I'm here and ready to murder a cheating sack of shit, just point me at him."
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