CHAPTER 4 Enthalpies of Reaction

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"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing."

I heard Sam shift in her seat causing the leather to creak. "What do you mean nothing? He's expecting you to go away with him for spring break."

I shrugged, staring outthe window of Martin's chauffeured car. That's right. A chauffeured car, for a twenty-year-old college student. If I hadn't felt so pensive I might've looked for the Grey Poupon Dijon mustard.

After my lapse in judgment against the pool table, Martin had navigated Sam and me to the back of the fraternity house while calling his driver on the phone. The man was at the back door by the time we arrived.

Martin pulled me in for a quick kiss-which was completely bizarre, provocative, and off-putting-then unceremoniously loaded us in, telling his driver to take us to our dorm.

Sam pumped me for information as soon as the door shut. I related the facts, which gave me an opportunity to recover a measure of sanity. In hindsight, I realized I'd been acting like a crazy person. Proximity to Martin made me lose my sense. I'd been senseless. Without sense. Not any sense. No sense.

Nonsense.

I spoke to the window rather than be faced with Sam's anxious expression. "I mean, I'm going to do nothing. I can't be held responsible for my reactions-what I say or what I do-when faced with a real life Martin Sandeke. He's the man equivalent of a gun to the head, except without the fear for my life aspect. I'll write him an email, tell him that he adversely affects my ability to function as a rational being. As such, our discussion this evening and all resultant agreements are null and void. I'm sure he'll understand."

I felt like I had stumbled into an alternate reality and was just now finding my way out of the rabbit hole.

Sam snorted. "Um, no. He's not going to understand. And, I doubt he'll take no for an answer. He's kind of a bully that way, or least he has that reputation."

This statement captured my curiosity; I turned in my seat to face Sam. "Wait, what do you mean? Does he-has he forced himself on-"

"No! God, no. I would never have teased you about getting his number if he forced himself on girls. That's not what I meant. He wouldn't need to do that in any case, as he has them lined up around the fraternity house with skirts up to their elbows, willing to bend whichever direction he prefers. I bet that's why he was hiding upstairs. It must get exhausting at some point..." Sam trailed off and I got the sense she was speaking mostly to herself.

I frowned at Sam. "Rape isn't about need, it's about power."

"Exactly. Sorry if I implied otherwise. Regardless, Martin Sandeke has a reputation forgetting it on with a cornucopia of willing females."

"Then what are you talking about? How is he a bully? Other than making females he's slept with cry and getting into fist fights." I listened to the words as they left my mouth, realizing that those two facts made him enough of a bully to be labeled as such.

"I just mean he's used to getting his way, right? He has his own yacht. His. Own. Yacht." She stared at me, her eyebrows raised with meaning. "If he wants something, it's his. He doesn't even ask, he just mention sit."

I twisted my lips to the side and considered this information, not really understanding why it was pertinent to our discussion. "So? What has that got to do with me?"

Sam's eyelids drooped with disbelief, but her eyebrows stayed suspended. "Have you not been paying attention? I saw the way he looked at you, the way he held your hand all the way to the car, the way he kissed you before we left. He wants you. Martin Sandeke wants you."

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