“I guess I’m just surprised.”
“I felt weird talking to you about it because I know the girls set it up,” he says.
“Actually, I was told that I was going to be the one to set it up.”
“Oh, you? I didn’t know that.”
Bullshit. Of course he knew it. I feel my stomach, that deep pit of dread. How could he say this? How? Everyone knows I was going to be in charge.
“I know for a fact that it’s always happened before Christmas. Some guys used to call it their Christmas present—”
“Wait, stop. A Christmas present?”
“Okay, fine. If you’re Jewish, then it’s your Hanukkah present.”
“It’s not supposed to be pleasurable, Sean. It was created to stop senior boys from attacking freshman girls.”
In my head I start thinking about my mother when I’m listening to her on a rampage. And I sound like her. Not making any sense. It’s not supposed to be pleasurable. Listen to how I’ve brainwashed myself. Lying to myself. Letting myself believe that there was a real agreement. That the guys can somehow be robotic and turn themselves off. Five years they’ve done this. For five years all these girls—or maybe not all the girls?—are walking around traumatized, believing that somehow we could deter sexual assaults. That somehow we could control the narrative.
And this guy. Sean. Right here in front of me.
What he did to Ali.
None of it mattered. It happened anyway.
“I know it sounds weird asking this. Or bringing this up. But a few girls brought it up the other night at the dance. A few sophomore girls who didn’t get their turn.”
“Didn’t get their turn?”
“Why do you keep repeating everything I’m saying?” he says, with a nasty tone. “These girls, they brought this up to me. And I always thought it was something they were forced to do. Something that they didn’t want. That’s what Dev said. That’s what he said you told him. But they asked me for it. They wanted to know when the Initiation was.”
I shouldn’t be so stunned. When I was a freshman, I brought it up too. I heard they had done it the year before. Anything to get the older guys to pay attention and take me seriously. I would have done anything to feel in control. That’s what I was promised. That’s what you get in return. You were in control of it. You were choosing to do it.
Except now, there’s just me wanting to hurl and hit and cry until there’s an empty hole that’s black and scarred.
Thoughts race in like thunder. The week before the dance and how Sean had been so eager to be around me, touching me and whispering to me, There are so many things I want to say to you, how at the department store it felt so crazy, how he took my hand and said to me, I’m not scared, B. Now I can’t help but wonder if he did it all to get to this moment. If he knew he had to get me on his side, not just so I could help persuade Ali to change her story but to make sure the Initiation was secure. So that he could get his Christmas present, as disgusting and vile as it sounds.
“Everything you said to me about . . . the way you feel about me. It was all a lie.”
“No! I could hardly stop that night we kissed. When I ran to your house,” he says, squeezing closer to me. “Look, B, you have to understand. This Initiation. It’s a natural curiosity. Do you understand that?” He edges even closer. I can smell his breath. The Italian sandwich he had for lunch. “And if I can’t have you. Do you understand what that does to me? How messed up I am about this. So I’m like, sure, you want to have an Initiation? Let’s do it.”
Sean. This creature. He’s had everything handed to him. He deserves. He expects. He’s on his throne. Taking and taking. And expecting. Expecting all the girls to kneel down. Ali Greenleaf. I brought her under my wing for him. For him.
“The Initiation wasn’t meant for you, Sean.” I’m yelling now, pushing him back.
He shifts around in his seat. His body so big, barely fitting in my tiny car. When he shifts, the whole car jiggles. That’s what you get when you have a giant soccer player in your car. Who is the threat of the school. With his thick, muscular legs, his chest, his speed. We should all fear him. But I don’t. So I sit up in my seat too. I can face him just as easily.
“It’s no big deal. Don’t make this a big deal, B.”
“It’s HUGE! You’re asking girls to give group blow jobs to boys who are three years older than them. Some of the guys are eighteen. It’s a world of difference. And to get what in return? A promise of safety? So we have to hand ourselves over to you to be safe?”
I see them in front of me. Flashes. Hair on their inner thighs. Muscles and knees. Smirk between each other. Amanda Shire chiding them for their laughter. Donnie staring down at the floor, ashamed.
“Hold up. Rewind. Is this about me and you? That you don’t want to share me with those other girls?”
“I know you slept over at that sophomore’s house after the dance. I saw her post a photo of you on Instagram. I know how much you’re with other girls—”
“And you’re with Dev! So what am I supposed to do?”
“Jesus, Sean—you can get blow jobs from anyone in this school without it being humiliating for her. Without her having to sit in a room filled with guys. Without me standing over them. Screaming at you not to look. And telling them how to wrap their virginal little mouths around
