Page 8 of Invasion of Sorority Z

Fluttering her eyelids open and shut with rapid blinks, she breathes out of her nose sharply and flinches. It is an unsettling movement.

“Hey, shshhh,” B’rook mutters, taking her friend’s face into her hands. “Stay calm, all right? Everything is okay. You fainted and hit your head. How do you feel?”

“Oww,” Stee-vee whines, fingers reaching up for her wound like she’s just recognizing it. Reflexively, I stop the hand in its tracks, taking it into my grip.

“You’ll hurt yourself, Stee-vee,” I say, finding her eyes growing wide. She looks at my face and then down to my chest, finding her hand in mine.

“Ohmygod,” she breathes, body tightening with shock.

B’rook sighs and grabs Stevie by her cheeks. “Hey, you’re okay. He patched you up. I don’t think they’re dangerous… to us anyway. How’s your vision, hun?”

“G-good?”

“How many fingers?” B’rook asks, putting up her hand and wiggling some of her digits in the air.

“T-three.”

She drops two but adds another. “And now?”

“Two.”

This seems to bring B’rook some relief. “Good.”

“Can you stand?” another one of her friends asks.

Stevie looks at me, and then down to her bare feet. “Maybe?”

“Here,” B’rook says, taking her other hand. “Let’s try it.” She looks to me, nodding at the connection between Stevie and me. Cautiously, she says, “Slowly, okay?”

She asks for my assistance? To help with the fragile one? “I will be slow,” I vow. I will be the most gentle of males in this moment. I will handle Stee-vee with much care. This way, she will not drop to the ground and hide her eyes from me once more.

My fellow males all take a step back, giving me the room to adjust.

“If you can lift her, we can put her feet on the ground carefully so she doesn’t need to push up from the ground?” B’rook asks.

If I canlifther? I could throw her across the room without so much as straining a muscle. She weighs nothing to me. Less than any Aprixian outside of their young years, I am sure.

I don’t say any of these thoughts. I don’t believe the hu-nims will find them to be comforting. Instead, I simply stand, making sure not to jostle Stee-vee in my arms as I do.

“Lucky bish,” another grunts.

Someone gasps. “Megan! She hit her head!”

“Yeah, Cayte, and now she’s being held bridal style by the beefiest of dudes I have ever seen. It’s been almost nine months without men. A girl can dream, damn.”

“More like a nightmare,” themean one, as Drak named her, grumbles.

“You can set me down now,” Stee-vee whispers. Her cheeks have turned nearly as red as her blood, and I’m worried that perhaps setting her down is not the best idea. I can continue to cradle her. I will walk where she needs me to walk, and stay where she needs me to say. “I’m okay,” she insists.

Reluctantly, I start to lead her body toward the floor. B’rook takes her hands and stands in front of her, offering a smile. “Take your time if you have to, you hit your head on solid wood, hun.”

I do not understand what this‘hun’is, but I may need to learn it. Perhaps it is Stee-vee’s second name.

Far too quickly, she is standing on her own, and my arms are left feeling colder than they ever have. And one of them is made of metal.

“I think I’m fine,” she tells B’rook. “The cut stings a little, but my head doesn’t hurt all that much.”

“Stomach ache? Any other pains?”

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