Chapter 3

A lot of people stayed and wanted to talk about specific points from the lecture. A couple of girls wanted to talk about things that they said had happened to them, but had been timid because of the number of people around. I gave them my phone number and told them to call me Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning and I’d make some time for them or to come see me at lunch the following week.

There were a few guys that were asking about how to help people at parties if they saw them. Those, I answered candidly. “If they’re with someone and you’re not sure they’re helping her or helping themselves, I think my strategy would be to talk to the nearest girl or group of girls and go approach her as a group. Talk to her to see whether she’s good or if she’s mostly passed out on her feet. If she’s out of it, take her to call her folks. If she’s good, she’ll be quick to let you know. Bringing a girl to check on her helps keep it from looking like you’re trying to break in on someone else when they’re trying to make time with a girl, though. Get suspicious if you think someone’s mixing the drinks differently for the girls and generally keep an eye out for them. If they seem like they’re starting to get a lot drunker a lot faster, get suspicious and don’t hesitate to call police if you know something’s not right.”

They nodded, but didn’t look happy about calling the police so I decided to throw them a lifeline. “No one’s expecting you to avoid parties and at our age, that means drinking. Everyone gets a little drunk at those parties. If you see a girl go from sober to drunk in a short period of time or if the party seems to be organized to take advantage of that, then your instincts will tell you that it’s time for the party to come to a stop. Trust those instincts. No one’s asking you to be a hero. Just keep your eyes open and do what you can.”

I spent the rest of the afternoon talking to people about the topic and even a few of our girls had stayed to ask why I came forward like I had.

I was chatting with Liz and Janice about it and shrugged. “It needed a face to go with the topic. I wasn’t about to ask someone else to come up and take on that task. My experience wasn’t overly painful or scarring, just unpleasant and unfortunate and I was up there anyway.”

They nodded and the topic turned toward lunch. “We haven’t really been doing a stellar job of keeping you covered, have we?” Janice asked, glumly. “That girl was sitting with you again today when we came in. Did she upset you again?”

“Not really,” I said. “She’s far more distraught than I am right now. From now on, start thinking of it as ‘our’ table. If someone wants to talk to me, then they can talk with you there or they can ask you for a few minutes alone with me. There were a couple of girls that wanted to talk, but with this many people around, they didn’t feel comfortable.”

They nodded and I got hugs and apologies from them. “We’ll do better, we promise,” Liz told me.

“You’re doing fine, Lilo,” I told her and she laughed a little. “Really. The thing with the jocks yesterday wasn’t your fault and I didn’t have a problem talking to her today. I think that’s resolved, for the most part. She might come to talk to me, but you don’t have to stay away if you see me with someone. I sit with the cheer team on early lunch. I’ll sit with the cheer team on late lunch too.”

They felt better after that and broke off. I talked with everyone I could, including the girls and then I realized that we were mostly alone in the room. Mr. Peterson and the two cops were talking on the stage, the girls were packing up the cameras and there were a couple of stragglers that I’d already talked to.

I climbed back up onstage and joined Mr. Peterson and the officers. I paused to thank them both for being with us. They’d brought some materials and had passed out rape whistles to the crowd. I plucked one out of the box and looked at it with a shake of my head.

“Not a fan?” Officer Chen, the female officer, observed knowingly.

I shook my head. “I’m not. These whistles are worse than useless. They give a false sense of security. The truth is, screaming ‘fire’ is far more effective than screaming ‘rape’. I tried to get pepper-spray for the girls after that party and failed, tried to get them tasers and failed, tried to get them batons, knives, machetes, ANYTHING they could use to protect themselves and the shop owner was embarrassed that these are the best protection the state of Massachusetts allows girls.” I jiggled the whistle by its cheap lanyard. “Blowing this is the same as ringing the dinner bell for any more scumbags in the area.”

“You have a better alternative?” she asked, interested in my perspective.

“Harsher penalties for sexual assault,” I said. “It’s a crime that never really stops happening to the victim. They can be whole again afterwards with a lot of determination and help, but they’re never the same. Their innocence is fundamentally damaged by it.”

“And what sentence would you suggest for first time offenders?” she wanted to know.

“Minimum sentence of ten years,” I said, “and not ten years of living a cushy lifestyle. We spend too much on the prison system. Make them work to earn their keep.”

“What about a second offense?” her male partner wanted to know.

“Death,” I told him bluntly without hesitation. “If they rape a second time, they haven’t learned to be remorseful of what they did the first time and they haven’t learned to fear the consequences.”

“You really believe that?” he asked, shocked at the cold-blooded response.

“I believe that Vance Waterman had no remorse for his part in the party I described. I also believe that after Thanksgiving, he’s never going to hurt another girl again. If he was still alive, I think the certainty would be that it was only a matter of time.”

He nodded. “I’m not disagreeing with you, but that seems kind of harsh for a crime where no one dies.”

I shrugged. “It’s a matter of perspective. From my point of view, victims are hurt so badly that they become different people after their assault, even in recovery. That means that the people they were before are dead. Do rapists deserve better than their victims?”

He nodded, deep in thought and his partner jumped back in. “So, you really took care of those girls?”

“He paid over five thousand dollars for us all to get tested,” Gina said. I hadn’t heard her approach, but she slipped up to me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. “You did good up here,” she told me before looking at the cops.

“He organized us all and made sure we had everyone’s contact information, including his. When Vance went after one of us, he made sure we knew we were in danger and got us to come to his house, so he could make sure we were safe. He stood there and let Vance shoot him so that we could get away. He took care of us like he’d lay down and die if one of us got hurt again.”

Officer Chen glanced over at me and then back at Gina with a slight nod and a knowing smile. Gina had her arm around me, and I had one protectively around her, so it was an easy assumption to make. “So, he’s helped you with your recovery?” she asked gently.

“And she’s helped me with mine,” I supplied, giving her a squeeze. “I watch out for all my girls and they watch out for me.”

“You said there were sixty of them,” she said uncertainly. “Are you this protective of all of them?”

“Without a doubt,” I said. “They feel the same about me. When they know I need a hand, they rally around me. They all know I’d take a bullet for them. I know they’d do the same.”

She smiled thinly. “That’s not what I meant,” she said.

“You were asking how many of them I was romantic with,” I nodded. “Right now, three. The one that I talked about hurting me in my speech was the fourth. I get the feeling that a lot of the girls would like me to be more directly involved in their recovery, but very few of them have asked so far.”

“And if they did?” she asked.

I looked her in the eyes. “If one of my girls came to me and needed my help, I’d help her. I have a request from one of them once we can arrange a night that works for us.”

“So, your prescription for sexual assault is more sex?” she said skeptically.

Lana laughed from behind her. “Sex with Matt is different,” she said lightly and then came to kiss me deeply. “The cameras are all packed up,” she told me sweetly. She slipped her arm around me from the other side. She liked to show off some, especially in front of adults who thought they were more worldly. “Matt’s good at a lot of stuff, but despite what Dr. Saddler and Dr. Spencer say, his real genius is sex. I’ve seen him fuck girls until they beg someone else to take their place. He’s done it to me. I can’t wait to hear what happens with Jessie.”

The cop arched her eyebrow. “BOTH of you?” she asked, surprised.

“Matt’s got eight girlfriends, another two females that might look for a little affection once in a while and probably forty of the girls that would do anything he wanted any time he asked. He just has to crook his finger and there would be a girl riding on the end of it,” Gina said with a laugh. “I don’t think there’s a member of the cheer team that would turn you down. Speaking of which, now that they know you’re healed, your hazing is going to be legendary,” she told me and kissed my cheek again.

I had the good grace to blush at the way they were talking about how good I was. “You girls are just as good to me as I am to you,” I told them. “You all closed ranks when I needed your help.”

They both kissed my cheeks and smiled. “You’re cute when you blush,” Lana told me. “You’re also the best lover at least at three colleges and this particular high school.” She put a finger on my lips. “Don’t argue. We all know it’s true.”

The cops and Mr. Peterson looked amused at how Lana seemed to handle me with just a few words and a casual touch. I reached up and hooked a finger under her collar, looking at her dryly as if to ask which of us was supposed to be in charge. She looked at me sweetly and then replaced her finger with her lips. Oh well. Who needs to be in charge anyway, right?

I smiled back at her and plotted my revenge that included her passing out and being carried to the shower.

“Is Jessie coming with us to the mall?” I asked lightly, trying to steer the conversation away from our bedroom antics. Not that I minded bragging, but some subjects aren’t for police ears.

“Yeah,” Gina said. “She’s helping Beck and Tricia put the cameras in Lana’s car. She’s looking forward to tomorrow night. She hasn’t stopped talking about this weekend since you invited her.”

We excused ourselves from the adults and I started to breathe a sigh of relief when I heard one of them call out and follow us as we headed towards the exit of the auditorium. Inwardly, I groaned, but the three of us stopped for her to catch up and she asked for a word alone with me.

They glanced at me, but slipped their arms from around my waist and told me they’d wait at the cars. I watched them go and then turned to face the questions I expected.

“Would you be willing to do this presentation at some of the other schools in the area?” she asked seriously.

I blinked. That wasn’t at all what I’d been expecting. “Um, what?” I said intelligently. “You want me to do this again? I wasn’t that good.”

She gave me a funny look. “What makes you say that?” she asked. “You looked fine up there. You were relaxed and comfortable, said what you wanted to say, and you had their attention. That’s the big one. You had them talking about it and asking questions. They usually sit there in silence until we’re done and then politely clap.”

I shrugged uncomfortably. “I dunno,” I admitted. “I did this one because my girls were hurt at that party. We all saw the creeps that were there paraded out of here in handcuffs. I wanted to make sure that the message stayed focused on what they’d done wrong.”

“Well, you did,” she told me. “You’re really protective of those girls, huh?” she asked and I knew we were getting to the part I didn’t want to talk to cops about.

I nodded. “I am. People I love were hurt. Some were people I loved before the party started, others were girls I’ve come to love since, but even the ones that don’t have a claim on me are just as important to me.”

She nodded. “I work with a lot of survivors,” she told me. “If those two girls were at that party, then you’re doing well to keep them from thinking they’re damaged.”

I nodded. “One of my girls called us ‘Winchester’s Broken Toys’ when we had to talk about what had happened to me,” I told her. “I told her none of us are broken.”

“What DID happen to you?” she asked, getting to the heart of her interest, I thought.

“One of the girls told me she loved me and asked me to help her feel good again, swearing to me that she was ready. Ever since that night, her version of what happened gets a little closer to her calling me a rapist. The comparison gets a little more direct with each time she retells it in her head. She’s ... she’s pretty traumatized. I hope she can find peace, but she’s burned her bridges with me.”

She shrugged. “Recovery can be like that for some victims,” she said apologetically. “It’s a paradox. They can’t know they aren’t ready until after they convince themselves that they are and find out the hard way that they were wrong.”

“I understand that,” I told her. “That’s why I have no intention of pressing charges for it and I’ve asked the people that had to know about it to not treat her badly if they can’t bring themselves to be her friend after this.”

“That’s a very generous attitude for someone that was hurt by her,” she said, surprised.

“I view it as no different than if she’d lashed out and hit me in a panic. It still hurts, but I know she didn’t do it out of malice. It’s just a landmine. We stepped on it and now we’re too wounded to be together.”

“You think you’ll forgive her?”

“I already have. I won’t take her back, though. The girls have said ‘no’.”

“They decide that?” she asked, interested.

“They often protect me from people who would hurt me,” I told her. “You want to know how things work between us, though. That’s why you’re asking, isn’t it?”

“You’re dating eight girls, juggling two others and have forty more willing to take the plunge if you say the word. It’s certainly a situation that begs to know how you manage.”

“Transparency,” I told her. “I despise secrets and lies. My girls know that. Everything’s out in the open. When someone comes looking for that kind of help, we sit down and decide together. If someone says they aren’t comfortable with it, then the answer is ‘no’. We’re unanimous or we refuse.”

“How often do you vote?” she asked.

“Whenever someone asks to join one or all of us,” I told her. “We had a vote this week and the answer was ‘no’. It depends on the person, what they want and why they’re asking.”

She nodded and handed me a card. “I hope you’ll consider working with us to get word out to some of the other schools,” she said. “It would really help get the message across.”

“Ma’am, I’m pretty busy most days. I take all my courses here, I take twenty university courses, I’m enrolled in Kung Fu and dance classes, I run my own cheer team, hold together support for those girls, keep eight girlfriends happy, tutor high school and university students and I’m training for a fund-raiser to support the children’s cancer wing of the hospital this spring. I’m JUST finishing up my physical therapy from getting shot over Thanksgiving. I don’t even remember what free time even IS.” I laughed a little, but took her card.

“Yeah, that all sounds exhausting just to hear it,” she admitted. I could tell there were more questions in her head now than there were before. The last thing I wanted was her to be curious about my activities. I thought about Hanna and how she could be hurt by scrutiny from someone in uniform.

“Once I perfect cloning technology, I can take up a hobby,” I joked, and she smiled a little.

“Just don’t spread yourself too thin,” she advised me. “Victims like your girls can need a lot more care than you can give in a few minutes at a time.”