A Very Good Reason The campus police had me in a room in Stetson Hall. Jim, Stevie and Nate had left; they’d apologized for spraying the parking lot and agreed to pay a fine added to our tuition. I’d also agreed, but the cops kept me around. “Dennis,” said the cop with the large eyebrows. “There’s a very good reason why you’re here.” He removed a picture of the Alpha Alpha Sig Fi house, taken during the day. He laid it in front of me. “Do you recognize that house?” “No, sir.” “You had best tell us the truth. It is in your interest. Lying to the police is a serious crime.” “I’ve never seen it before in my life,” I said. “There have been complaints about disruptions coming from this house recently. The nearest neighbors are a quarter mile away, so these are pretty loud disruptions.” “The neighbors speculate that there’s some kind of brothel being run out of this place,” said the blonde cop. “Lots of sex stuff seems to happen.” We were silent. “I’m sorry officers, I don’t think I can help you with this,” I said. They asked a few more questions. Before I left, one of the cops handed me pamphlets about sex addiction and who I could talk to on campus. I crumpled it outside and threw it in a trashcan. The last time I saw Brie, I was walking down a hall in an empty building, having gotten out of a late, re-scheduled class. I was hungover from drinking all day and the day before that. I hadn’t gotten any in over a month. I didn’t want any. I had sat in front of my computer late at night, staring at the same porn video on a loop. Sleep felt like a thing of the past. Brie was alone and carrying two textbooks. She was in a rush. When she saw me, she stopped in her tracks and stared, wide eyed, like I was about to shoot her. I stopped and stared. She shook her head and went off, walking faster. I stood in a bathroom stall, jerking off and thinking of her wide eyes. Those eyes that stared at me were the same eyes she had one particular time when she actually squirted. We were doing it doggystyle. Her back faced me. It was very slow, almost slow motion. I felt the condom I wore slide up and down with the motions of her p***y. She breathed deeply in to my sheets as though she were meditating and graduated to raspy pants after a few minutes of doing this. Her buttcheeks squeezed inward with her thighs. Her arms spread out full length, her fingers touching the headboard. She said, “F**k.” She panted her way in to whimpers. Her mouth was open against the covers and her cheek rubbed against the sprongs of my mattress. I came and as I did, I felt a warm, wet sensation against my pubes. I saw liquid drip on to the sheets below our genitals. I shot of in to the toilet paper in the bathroom. I flushed it down. I walked out of the stall and stood by a sink looking in the mirror for no reason I could quite fathom. F**k.