The week shot by quickly, and before he knew it, Friday was looming upon Luke, and that meant his first real date. He was excited, but also scared. He barely managed a couple of words during his most recent encounter at the hospital. So far, he was not able to run into her anywhere on campus throughout the week. He didn't have her cell phone number, and she wasn't on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or any other social media platform. "Nellie Santana," he would type in on his phone. So many results, few with red hair, and few as beautiful as the real Nellie.

Come to speak of it, Luke hadn't really seen much of his suite mates either. He guessed Alex must've been training, and Gio stuck in the media lab editing for hours. Kev was always in the room however, locked beneath a lamp reading, highlighting, and typing away. Luke was glad that his job over at Safe Walk afforded him a reason to be out of the dorm for five hours three times a week. His job consisted, officially, of sitting down in one of various locations on campus wearing a neon yellow and blue vest, equipped with a radio, in order to provide safe escorts to students who feared walking to certain parts of campus alone.

Unofficially, it was Luke's free time to get work done, watch Netflix, read, and pretty much do anything else besides escorting. On occasion he'd keep an eye out for any suspicious persons roaming at his site-just in case he'd have to call it in on his radio-but for the most part, the people whom he thought were "suspicious" were just simply weird.

Finally, the day had arrived. Friday was here. He woke up in the morning, and he still had no plans for the date that was going to commence in about ten hours. He gave it some thought on his way to the Pryz, the main student hub and cafeteria on campus, to grab some breakfast. He was distracted when he spotted a newspaper by the steps leading up to the student restaurant.

His attention was caught by images of flames bursting along the sides of the school newspaper, the Tower. It triggered a thought he'd been trying to suppress all week-fire. Not just the fire at O2, but mainly the fireball he thought he saw himself summon in the palm of his hand (because we all know only crazy people see flames sprouting up in one's hands-either that or those who inhaled too much of the good stuff). He thought he was back on track to having a normal week.

And then this newspaper ruined it for him.

For the longest time Luke had been trying to convince himself that he wasn't the cause of the fire-that the fireball in the palm of his hand and the actual fire in O2 was just a very rare coincidence. He knew, in the back of his mind, that it sounded crazy. What were the chances that there was another source for the big O2 fire at the exact moment he had his supernatural experience?

"Arsonist Sets O2 in Flames: Investigation Underway," was the title that got Luke's heart tripping over itself. They're on to me, he thought. What if they find out I'm responsible?

Luke picked up the paper and folded it up. He rushed upstairs, grabbed the weirdest booth in any food establishment-a booth that faced a wall. It was a solitary booth for loners, and few paid it any attention because it was such an antisocial corner of the student restaurant. Luke had never sat there before, and always told himself that he'd never be caught sitting there.

Well whenever he plays Never Have I Ever with his friends, he'll probably have to drink to the phrase, "Never have I ever sat in the anti-social booth in the Pryz." But Luke didn't care. He needed to be alone with his thoughts and with this paper. He didn't want to be caught reading the paper for fear that he'd be linked to the fire. He was already known to be the last one out with an unconscious girl in his arms. Maybe he could've started the fire, the girl saw him, he knocked her unconscious, and pretended to save her.

But when Luke read the actual article, he breathed a sigh of relief. What were the chances that another person started the fire? Luke had wondered moments before reading the article. According to the tower, extremely high.

Apparently, the arsonist was still on the loose because the cause of the fire wasn't a Molotov cocktail tossed onto a rug, or a fireball summoned by a student after playing arctic plunge. It was the result of a dumb student who put aluminum foil in a microwave, something you should never do.

Yet, it'd be dumb if it was a mistake, which according to the Tower, it was not. The foil was packed into a large ball the size of basketball and thrusted into a microwave. Aluminum foil can catch fire within seconds of being inside a microwave. According to authorities who salvaged the exploded smart microwave, which remembers the previous time settings on a mobile app, the amount of time input by its last user was 90 minutes.

No one puts anything in the microwave for 90 minutes unless they are trying to make it explode.

Luke breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't me-they don't suspect me at all. Thank God. But, that sigh of relief quickly became wide eyes of realization, But if I'm not responsible for the fire-then who is?

That question plagued him throughout the morning until noon came, and his anxiety was then replaced by that of his upcoming date. He still had not managed to see his suitemates, which was weird considering his university wasn't that big. He was sure he'd see them at some point at the Pryz. Maybe they've been eating at the other dining hall, Luke thought.

The text messages he got from them were not helpful either. When he asked them where they were he simply got, "Doing your mom" from Alex or "Busy" from Gio.

Fine, Luke thought. I don't need advice from a guy who needs to drink to get laid or a guy who gets beaten by his girlfriend. I'll go to someone else.

Luke knew immediately who he'd go to. The name was Darryl Dixon, one of the few African Americans on campus. He and Darryl actually go back a bit towards high school. Darryl was more of a lady's man than Alex was. Whereas Alex was locked down by Jenny, Darryl was a free man. He wavered from woman to woman, racking up what he considered a "body count." It started as a sophomore in high school. He was a sophomore in college now, one year ahead of Luke, and his "body count" total was at 54 and counting.

Yet, while Darryl appeared to be a lady's man, Luke knew deep down inside he was trying to "F" his way to true love. Within those 54 ladies, about ten of them grew into multi-month relationships, two even lasting about a year. When the break-ups occurred, Darryl would get depressed. He'd "slay" woman at a much faster rate to "make up for the lost pussy." While many of Luke's high school friends saw Darryl as a god amongst woman, Luke knew that it was all a performance. He was just like everyone else-trying to find the one.

Luke had barely spoken or hung out with Darryl last semester. The beginning of this semester was no different. Darryl was an architect student, and that meant he was locked up in one of the cells within the dungeon that was Crough, the architecture building on campus. Luke knew, from seeing how little time Darryl had to spend with anyone, that an architect's life was a massive struggle. Long hours saw Darryl sleeping overnight in his small studio, isolated from the rest of the campus while he worked carefully on his design projects.

Hence, Luke didn't need to text Darryl about his whereabouts, he already knew where to find him.

Darryl had his eyes locked on a 3D programming software on a desktop when Luke popped his head inside his small studio. It was the size of a closet, and not even a walk-in one. Sketches were scattered all around the place, while pencils, sharpeners, and pencil shavings littered the floor.

"Hey Darryl," Luke knocked on the table Darryl was working on.

Darryl spun around on his stool and smiled, "Luke, what's up?"

"Tonight is what's up," Luke said leaning against the door. "Got my first date."

"Oh shit, my bro's gonna get some tonight?"

"Probably not, but I did come here for some advice..."

"No worries, always remember, finger first, then go in. Otherwise it'd be like licking sand, and another thing--"

"I didn't mean that kind of advice," Luke laughed. "I meant like, what you do on a date and stuff."

"A date? Let me tell you one thing-never spend money on a woman when there's plenty of free pussy out there."

"Come on Darryl, you had to have gone out on a date at least once," Luke pointed his index finger in the air.

"Oh, I've been on plenty," he said. Then he yawned, and it was at that moment that Luke noticed Darryl's weariness. His bloodshot eyes, five o'clock shadow, the rumble his stomach produced like a dump truck dropping a dumpster on the ground, and the stale smell of time that reeked from Darryl's body. Darryl had been there overnight and hadn't left for at least a day.

"You okay? How long you've been here?"

"At least 24 hours," Darryl said.

"My gosh, have you've eaten anything?"

His stomach answered with a growl and Darryl pointed at it. "I think that answers your question."

"Dude, you gotta give yourself a break and get something to eat. Come on, let's head to the Pryz and grab some lunch."

Darryl recoiled at the idea, "Um, no thanks."

"But, you gotta eat, and I don't think you should eat in here over your work. You need some fresh air."

"I can't go outside...I got...I got stuff to do," he motioned his hands like a showgirl on a game show revealing a potential car a contestant could win, but it was only scattered sketches.

"Come on, at least fifteen minutes," Luke said.

"With my luck she'll be out there," Darryl muttered.

"What do you mean? Was it another one-night-stand you aren't too proud of?"

Darryl was silent, which threw Luke a red flag that he was depressed over a girl. A depressed Darryl was a volatile Darryl. Already he had threatened to kill himself two times, and unbeknown to Luke, he has attempted to kill himself two times, both by deliberately overdosing on pills.

"Dude, what's wrong?" Luke asked.

Darryl held his head down and didn't bother looking in Luke's direction. His body was shaking, and his breathing sounded like turbulence on a plane, "I-I was raped two nights ago."

Luke's eyes widened, and he thought, Oh shit this is serious. "How? You're not easy to rape like that, I mean you hit the gym often whenever you're not down here. What kind of dude does that anyway to another dude?"

Darryl stood silent for five long seconds. The ambience of the room filled in the void with the desktop hardware spinning, the lights buzzing, the papers crunching.

Finally, Darryl muttered, "It was a woman."

Luke took a step back, "You're lying...I mean you can't be serious."

"And you prove my point on why I can't go outside."

"But, how? How does that even happen? How brolic was she?"

"It's not all about strength!" Darryl yelled. "That fucking sly bitch," he started to tear up.

At that point Luke knew he was unequipped to handle this situation. He was not a trained psychologist, or even a counselor. He knew there were support services on campus that could help Darryl, and he didn't want to give him bad advice.

The best he could do now was listen. Luke pulled up a stool from a nearby unoccupied studio and put it next to Darryl, "Talk to me, what happened?"

"There isn't much to say," he sniffled. "She-she got me drunk. Then she took me back to her place and had me fuck her."

"And so, you definitely didn't want anything to happen between you two when you went to her place?"

He looked up at me and mumbled with tears welling in his eyes, "I didn't even know this person."

A stranger, Luke thought. Darryl was raped by a stranger.

"Have you told anyone?"

"No," he said. "Who would believe me? You know how many women I've slept with?"

"But, this is serious. You should report this..."

"I'm a guy! Guys do the raping, not girls."

"Clearly not here, and I believe you, so others will too."

"And be the laughing stock of the world? No thanks. I'm not going to be that one bitch who got raped by a girl. I might as well just kill myself at this point."

"No," Luke said with a stern finger pointed at him. "You can't let this girl get away with what she's done to you. She deserves to pay for her crimes like anybody else. She doesn't get a free pass cause she's a woman."

"Maybe not, but she has society behind her. I come out and say something...I mean what if she turns it on me and says I was the one who raped her? How can I fight my way out of that one? I mean, I was so fucked I could barely remember the incident, all I know is-I didn't want it to happen."

Luke was realizing that he wasn't getting through to Darryl, and that he needed real help. He searched up the suicide prevention hotline on his phone and texted the number to Darryl, "Look, I'm texting you the hotline again for you to get some help on this. It's 1-800-273-8255. It also says you can chat online with a representative. Promise me you'll give them a call, or at least schedule an appointment with the counseling center over in O'Boyle."

"I'm kinda busy," he said pointing at the computer screen.

"This is more important. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Fine, fine, fine, I'll give them a call, and I promise not to do anything stupid. Now, about that date," Darryl said trying to change the topic away from the shame he felt billowing up in his chest. "I'm guessing you grew the balls to ask her out?"

Luke was taken back by the sudden shift back to the real purpose he came to see Darryl, to get advice on what to do for his first date. "No, she actually asked me out."

"Wow," he clapped. "Those are few and far in-between. Consider yourself lucky."

"Yeah, but I don't know how to plan for this date."

"Well, if she asked you out, shouldn't she be the one planning it out? I mean it'd be kinda ridiculous if a girl can ask you out, you say yes, and have to fit the bill for the restaurant and stuff."

"What are you saying-I should just go without a plan for our first date?" This idea went against what his father recommended about paying for the first date and figuring out where to take her. I guess he's still traditional in that sense, Luke thought.

"What I'm saying is, whoever initiates the date pays. Otherwise girls could go around asking people out to get a free dinner and movie. As for planning it, I'm pretty sure she has something in mind. A woman always has something in mind for their first date, whether they admit to it or not."

"Alright, then I'll keep that in mind, if you keep in mind what we discussed."

"Hotline and counseling to fix this broken mess," he pointed at himself and smiled. "Got it boss."

"You're not broken, you just need help-we all do."

At this point Darryl was already tuning Luke out as he slowly spun around on his stool and returned to work.

"At least grab something to eat," Luke said as he signaled his goodbye. "Peace."

"See ya...bro."

*________________________________________________*

Author's Note

[Warning: This Author's note contains a discussion on the topics of rape and suicide. Please turn to the next chapter if you are uncomfortable with the discussion of these topics.]

Another topic discussed in the theology class was rape. That's some crazy theology class you were taking then. Yeah I know. Most of the time when the word "rape" is used, we have violent and forceful images materialize in our minds. Many cases are influenced by alcohol, which is used to subdue the victim (there are some very scary people out there). In Darryl's case, based on a true account, I showed how rape can happen to men as well, and try to show people that rape isn't always about who's stronger.

So how does this relate to theology at all? Well the Bible has multiple rape accounts and laws regarding rape. The most famous account is in Genesis 34: The Rape of Dinah. Dinah, the daughter of Jacob, was raped (although some debate otherwise due to the language used) by a man named Shechem. That led Dinah's two brothers to take revenge by having every male in Shechem's village circumcised, and then while they were in pain from the procedure, they went in and slaughtered all the males in the village (the story is crazy). Overall, the rule was that if a man raped a woman who was a virgin, then the man had to marry her and pay a bride price to the father because the father lost the opportunity to give away his pure daughter (yeah, we've come a long way).

Furthermore, the number Luke gives Darryl (1-800-273-8255) is really the National Suicide Prevention hotline, something many people are becoming aware of today, especially with a song titled after the phone number by the rapper Logic (you can check out the music video below if you aren't familiar with the song):

https://youtu.be/Kb24RrHIbFk

I know this was a heavy chapter, but you'll soon see how the supernatural element connects.

Stay safe and see you next time.

- L. A. Rivera