The fraternity guys called her names, called her over in the middle of the night, sometimes they didn’t even try to mask the fact that she was their last choice.  They referred to her as “Last Call.”  She thought maybe her reliability might grow on one of them, maybe endear her more than the other girls who were never consistent.  She thought it might at least elevate her in one guy’s mind to girlfriend status.  “It only takes one,” that’s what her mom always said.  Unfortunately, she’d been in the sorority for over two years now and had been with more guys more times than she cared to remember, getting nothing out of it except for a couple fraternity guys’ oversized T-shirts.  Those came from the nice ones, the few guys who took pity on her when she had to her walk back in the same outfit she’d clearly worn the night before. 

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