By Becca Diane
Carrie looked at the tuition bill and her eyes went wide as the full moon. How in the hell was she going to pay that much fucking money?! She let the paper fall from her fingers and she paced her dorm room, which she was now going to have to move out of. It was costing too much. She would find classmates or someone to live with off campus. She kept swearing as she was throwing ideas around in her head. She needed some fresh air…plus the moon was getting close to full. She needed to run.
She stepped into the hall and cringed at how crowded it was. She wasn’t against a good dorm party, but this time it was starting to get out of control. She glanced into a room here and there as she pushed past the other pregrads. She glanced in one room that seemed a lot less crowded and decided to take her chances with this room as a place to catch her breath. There were a few guys watching a movie. Carrie doubted they even realized that their door was open.
She stood at the back of the room, toward the doorway, watching the movie at a distance. She closed the door some to cut the noise a bit and they all glanced back. These were not nerdy wimps she studied with. These were some jocks. Why they weren’t out in the halls doing jello shots or drugs was beyond her. One guy, seemed like the leader, grinned and jumped over the back of the couch. His boys kept watching as he stalked closer to her, the movie being ignored.
“Uh, hi. Sorry if I was intruding. It just seemed a little too stuffy out there and your room was somewhat quiet.” She kept her voice low, as usual. She looked down and licked her lips, pushing hair behind her ear, more to hear better than as a move of shyness. He didn’t seem to hear her. He slammed the door the rest of the way shut and locked it. Carrie knew that would happen as soon as he moved in her direction. This guy was like all the other sex-crazed boys she’d met since moving off to college. Not like the ones back home were much different. They just had the strength to take her down, unlike this creep. She acted like she was scared and pushed back against the door more. Her eyes darted up to the ceiling with him even noticing.
He put his hands on the door on either side of her and he breathed his first words since she had entered. “Aren’t you quite the birthday present.” She nearly gagged from the toxic level of alcohol on his breath. He slid his hand over her breast and she started shaking. The innocent act seemed to work as a distraction so easily. These boys were predictable. As he turned to look at his friends to brag on getting him a piece of cherry, she pushed him away, snarled at him and grabbed the exposed lead pipe above her head, pulling herself up and kicking at his chest. He fell to the floor with a grunt. She jumped down and spit on him. “Watch who you fuck with next time, little boy.” She let her eyes flash red for a moment before opening the door and heading at a jog for the door. Between that punk and the movie that was playing on the television, she had an idea how to solve all her problems.