Easy

walked down the wide, open front staircase to meet our ride. Everyone we passed gawked—one scrawny freshman tripping on a step, his eyes moving between Erin and me. Luckily, he was going up, so he landed on both hands, practically at Erin’s feet. “Whoa,” he breathed taking her in.
    She patted his head as she passed him, crooning, “Aww, how sweet,” like he was a puppy. His adoring expression at her touch indicated that here was a guy willing to put her on a pedestal and treat her like a goddess. I suspected that Erin didn’t want that from a guy nearly as much as she insisted she did.

    ***
    The men of Chaz’s fraternity had gone all out, hanging an actual disco ball and hiring a band. Outfitted in suits, ties, and a hazardous level of confidence, they all looked hotter than hell and every one of them knew it. Two guys from the pledge class were at the door, one hanging coats, the other taking the plus-one invitation Erin handed over and giving us each a strip of tickets for the ‘bar’ set up in the kitchen and a raffle ticket for the table of prizes another pledge watched over.
    The prizes were mostly electronic provisions—from iPods to game systems to a 42” flatscreen. “ Boys ,” Erin scoffed. “Where’s a spa day? Or a Victoria’s Secret shopping spree?” The table guard’s eyes widened in obvious approval of the latter idea.
    “Hello, Erin,” a deep voice said. We turned, and there was Chaz, looking amazing in a perfectly-cut charcoal gray suit and red tie that somehow blended perfectly with Erin’s hair. He glanced at me, his eyes warm and friendly. “Hi, Jacqueline.” I sensed no reproach over the fact that their relationship had detonated over Erin standing up for me.
    “Hi, Chaz. The place looks awesome.” I answered for both of us while Erin swayed to the music and waved at friends, as though her ex didn’t exist. The theme of the Bash this year was Saturday Night Fever . The band shifted from playing a Keith Urban cover to a Bee Gees song—something popular when my parents were in grade school, maybe.
    Chaz glanced around perfunctorily, his eyes returning to me. “Thanks,” he said, and then he only had eyes for Erin. Watching the people already dancing, she snagged a full red cup from a passing guy with a handful of them. He started to protest, but Chaz glared, daring him to say a word to her. He buttoned his lip and kept moving.
    While she sipped and pretended to be oblivious to his presence, he stared at her. It was obvious where he wanted this to go, and the fact that Erin was conspicuously gazing anywhere but at him told me she was anything but immune. They didn’t move from each other’s orbits the rest of the night, but he didn’t attempt to speak to her again, either.
    I knew Chaz was a good guy, if misguided and gullible. He’d swallowed Buck’s side of what happened between us, had argued with Erin that maybe I was drunk that night, and I didn’t remember everything clearly. He was probably one of those boys to whom rapists were ugly men who jumped out of bushes, assaulting random girls. Rapists weren’t your nice-guy coworker, or your frat brother, or your best friend.
    Maybe it never occurred to him that his best friend was capable of ripping a girl’s self-confidence away in the span of five minutes. That he could hurt someone innocent to wound a rival. That he could violate her in a twisted attempt to obliterate his own powerlessness. That he could make her feel constantly threatened, and not give a shit.
    The only time I felt completely safe was when I was with Lucas.
    Damn.
    Ten minutes later, I was watching Buck dance with a senior from Erin’s sorority. He smiled and laughed, and so did she. He looked so… normal. For the first time, I wondered if I was the only girl he’d ever terrorized, and if so, why. I jumped when I heard Kennedy’s voice in my ear. “You look stunning, Jacqueline.” My drink sloshed over the cup’s rim onto my hand, luckily missing my dress. He took the cup from my hand. “Ah, I’m sorry—didn’t mean to startle you. C’mon, let me get you a towel.”
    I was disconcerted enough from his arm steering me through the crowd, his hand on my bare back, that I wasn’t aware of the separation from Erin until we were in the kitchen with my arm over the sink as though I had a mortal injury rather than a beer-soaked hand. He rinsed and patted my hand dry, and I withdrew it from his grasp when he didn’t let go right