When Crystal hopped on the back of his bike, Little Diogenes grabbed another of the cyclists, anonymous under the helmet. A disappointingly short, slow ride brought them to the beach. The real beach, thought Little Diogenes, where we don't belong. When the helmets came off, she stared at the pimply frat brother underneath, who stared back. He belonged.
The Alpha Chi's began pulling liquor out of aerodynamic backpacks that zipped directly to their jackets. Crystal looked at Little Diogenes, who decided that she could get drunk and still confront health class tomorrow. Bored with their cycles (they'd driven up from New York), they started stripping down to their underwear. For the second time that day, Little Diogenes was confronted with nipples.
"Crystal," she giggled, "are they going to rape us?"
"Don't be nasty; they're gonna rape each other." Crystal laughed at herself, pulling off her shorts.
Little Diogenes wasn't wearing anything that could get wet but her junior high panties, but when Crystal took her shirt off, Little Diogenes decided that it would be okay to do it too. My tits aren't that big, she thought, but they're nicer than Crystal's.
It was dark enough on the beach to hide their tits, mostly. The only light came from weak orange lamps in the parking lot. The boys splashed and drank port, the official liquor of the Alpha Chi fraternity.
"We're a service organization," one of them said, very seriously, "Alpha Chi Motto: We serve our community in amity, with dignity, and as an expression Christian fellowship."
He sunk back into the water, as one of his Christian fellows grabbed his ankles in a sneak attack. Little Diogenes swam out farther into the still cove. No one tried to follow her.