Run on Red

by Noelle W. Ihli

“A few years ago, Delta Phi got busted when some bitch brought the police to the frat house after a party.” His face darkened. “Biggest slut around, but the police didn’t know that. In the end, nobody got in trouble, and everyone hated her so much that she ended up dropping the charges. And dropping out of school.” He looked thoughtful. “But still. Not an experience we were interested in repeating, you know? So we got smarter.” He paused, clearly waiting to be prompted. I pushed the words past the vomit rising in my throat. “So what did you do?” The dropped assault charges a few years ago were common knowledge on campus. I wasn’t naive enough to think they were baseless, but I’d assumed the crime was perpetrated by individuals. Kyle had used the word system. I could barely breathe. “Like I said, we had it all figured out. The system was color-coded. Blue meant it was okay to fool around with a girl, but nothing below the waist. Red meant ‘anything goes.’ Blue paid $100. Red paid $300.” “To the girls?” I asked, keeping my voice measured. He laughed. “Keep up, MacGyver. To their boyfriends.”