“Go ahead.”
“She had to drop out. She had to go to the police. She switched schools. That’s why she goes to NYU now and lives at home.”
I look at him with wild eyes. “Was your sister rape raped?”
“What’s rape raped? There’s only one rape, Ali. It’s not a do you like me, or do you like me like me.”
I think of the different ways that rape could happen. I think of women who get grabbed in the subway in Manhattan or get pulled into a dark alley. Girls who get dumped on their front lawn. Not remembering the night before except for bruises and a video on social media. Isn’t that rape? Is that the same kind of rape that happened to me?
“It was a guy she knew from the fraternity,” Raj says. “She was really wasted. It was a pledge party. She didn’t remember any of it. And a bunch of guys watched until someone pulled him off her because she was basically unconscious. She’s okay now. But it’s affected her. It’s affected me. At first I wanted to go to her school and kill those guys. But me against a hundred frat bros?”
I imagine Raj’s reaction when he heard the news about his sister for the first time. How helpless he must have felt. So helpless that he’s kept this all to himself. That I’m hearing this story for the first time now. I think about how his sister felt, people watching her. Not moving while some guy had sex with her. Imagine that no one stopped it.
“That night you ran out of the party?” his voice stutters. “Did—did it go down, you know, like it went down with my sister?”
I smooth out the translucent ruffle of my black dress. It’s a glacier. I am ice, black and cold. My red tights, fire. I will freeze you or I will burn you down.
I nod my head up and down. Look at his face. Right into his eyes.
Yes.
He bangs the back of his head against the locker. Then turns to the opposite side and slams the locker with his fist. The sound of him punching the metal echoes in the empty hallway. And I’ve never seen him like this. In all the years I’ve known Raj. I’ve never seen him like this, and it does something to me. It makes me angry too. A feeling I haven’t felt yet. Anger, stabbing into me.
29
BLYTHE
Donnie folds her arm around mine, locking us together.
“So you and your little minion got into a fight, Jensen? She’s not listening to the rules?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh, we’re going to talk about it.”
“Oh, are we? Don’t make me get loud with you, bitch. Too much has happened tonight. I need someone to solve my problems. Not make them worse.”
“Fuck me gently with a chain saw. Do I look like Mother Teresa?”
“Stop it,” I say. I’m not in the mood to quote Heathers right now.
Donnie curls her head into my shoulder. She takes the sweet approach. I can feel her heavy breath against my ear.
“Is he worth the fight?”
“Worth the fight? What does that mean?”
“You know what it means.”
I take a quick peek around. Any person could hear her if she says it. If she opens her mouth. If she gets any messier.
“Isn’t he what you’re fighting for here? If you get Ali to forgive him. If you get her to drop whatever happened between them that night. Then you get his love. Isn’t that what this is about? Otherwise, why waste your time with that novice? That girl. Ali. What does she know about anything? What does she know about what we did to secure our spot?”
I just want her to shut up. I’m tempted to slap her. She reminds me of my mother right now, the way when she’s off her meds, how she rants.
“Just walk.”
“To where?”
“Anywhere. I just need to sit.”
Suki runs up behind us.
“You guys just left.”
“What was I supposed to do? Stick around?” I say.
“In the meantime, while your little mascot was acting out, Sean went off with three sophomore girls and said he’s going to do an Initiation on his own.”
“What?” I say. “He’s wasted. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Donnie cackles, throws her head back. Her arms stretch out all pale and witchy. “Imagine if Sean was on a TV show—Boys Most Wanted. Everyone wants him, but no one knows whyyyy . . . because inside he’s rotting alive.”
I step behind her. Push her forward, in the direction of the bathroom. She’s talking crazy talk and I want to get away from Donnie, those black sunken eyes. The eyes of someone I don’t even know.
* * *
Bathroom. A whole bunch of girls in there already. A few waiting in line, but we’re the Core Four. Well, Core Three right now since Cate is off somewhere with Chase Goldberg. We walk ahead because that’s what we do. Donnie first. Me second. Suki last. Cram in the handicap stall. Everyone else has to wait.
“What did he say exactly, Suki? I need word for word.”
“I heard him say something about how he’s got three girls who are eager to get started. That he doesn’t need this drama with Ali. That it’s all gotten too much. He can get three girls”—she does air quotes—“‘working on him’ on his own.”
“I’m not feeling good,” Donnie says, but I ignore her because I’m trying to dissect what Suki’s saying.
“Direct quote,” Suki says.
“Tell her whatever you want,” Donnie says. “She doesn’t see him the way we see him. She sees the soft side. Isn’t that right, Jensen? Sweet soft Sean, who shops with his artist-collector grandma in the city. Say that ten times fast.”
Suki’s face, confused. “When did you see him shopping with his grandmother?”
“Forget all that. Donnie doesn’t know what she’s talking
