“What?” I ask, and then follow his line of sight. My body spikes with fear when I see Garrett crossing the cafeteria. He must have come late to school or skipped history class. When he glances in my direction, a sneer on his lips, panic shoots through my veins.
Even though the scratches on my neck are mostly gone, they begin to burn again. And all at once, it’s like I can feel his hands on my shirt, his breath in my face. I hate him, I decide. And it’s such a negative thought that it shocks me. The way I wish him harm is violent and counterproductive, but it’s there nonetheless. I think aboutthe book of poetryin my backpack.
Garrett chuckles to himself as if satisfied with my reaction, and he continues to walk across the cafeteria. My stomach seizes when I realize where he’s going.
Adrian is at her usual cafeteria table, oblivious, until Garrett slides onto the bench next to her. She jumps, and before she can move away, he puts his arm over her shoulders and says something to her friends. They quickly gather up their food and leave, even as Adrian looks after them helplessly.
Garrett turns to Adrian, and she pushes his arm off her. Garrett smiles as he talks, but I get the sense that whatever he’s saying is vicious. I watch as Adrian begins to fold in on herself. She tries to stand up, but Garrett grabs her by the wrist, yanking her back down to sit. He doesn’t let go even as she struggles.
And then he pulls her hand into his lap, mimicking a sexual act. Adrian cries, fighting to get free. I jump up, my face on fire withrage, and Sydney and I rush toward the table. Lyle stays behind.
The entire cafeteria is witnessing this attack, but no one is stopping Garrett.
“Damn, Addie,” Garrett calls for the benefit of the room. “You’re so good at this!”
His friends laugh as Adrian continues to cry, struggling against Garrett’s strength.
And the tears glistening on Adrian’s face remind me of the tears on mine. On Rebecca’s. On all of ours. Our tears for male consumption, male pleasure.
“Hey!” I shout, my voice raw with anger, grave and untamed. Garrett is licking his teeth when he casually glances over at me and then laughs before turning back to Adrian.
Something inside me snaps. Something angry and ugly and free.
I grab a plastic lunch tray off another table as I approach, and in a smooth movement, I swing it and hit the back of Garrett’s head, shattering the tray as a loud crack echoes across the room. There is a collective gasp.
Garrett yelps out his surprise as the pieces of plastic fall over him. The tray wasn’t substantial enough to do real damage, but the surprise was enough for Adrian to free herself and flee the scene. She doesn’t even take her backpack.
Garrett turns around to stare at me, wide-eyed. And then the room erupts in laughter, even a few cheers.
“You fucking bitch!” Garrett says, standing up and pulling himself to his full height. Before he can lunge at me, a gray-hairedsecurity guard appears between me and Garrett. The guard puts his arms out to the sides to hold Garrett back.
But when I start to explain the situation, the security guard steps forward and grabs me roughly by the upper arm, making my breath catch. He wags his finger in Sydney’s direction as if warning her not to approach.
“Hey, man. Relax!” a guy calls from a nearby table. “Don’t grab a girl like that.”
I turn, surprised to find one of the rugby players getting up from his seat. He has dark skin and shaved black hair, and I quickly place him as the player who had DOZER written across his jersey. He looks annoyed, and behind him, his friends are shaking their heads, glaring at the guard.
“Stay out of this, Demarcus,” the security guard tells the guy, and then nods to the entire table. “All of you mind your own business.”
“We were trying to until you started grabbing people,” Demarcus mutters before turning back to his friends.
And maybe that’s the problem—Demarcus should have said something to Garrett when he was attacking Adrian. She was being grabbed too. Did he react differently because Garrett is one of his peers?
I open my palms to the security guard to demonstrate that I’m not going to be violent … again. The man lets me go, and I quickly move to Sydney’s side.
“I notice you didn’t jump up when he was sexually assaulting a girl,” Sydney tells the guard. The older man tightens his jaw.
“The only assault I saw was you and your friend,” he responds.
“Sydney didn’t even do anything!” I point out.
“Both of you, to the office, now,” the guard says.
Garrett is pacing behind the man, too angry to take any pleasure in our unfair punishment. He looks over at me like he’s going to kill me. He feels entitled to my attention. To Adrian’s body. To the school’s justice. He thinks it’s all his. But he’s wrong.
“Fine,” I tell the guard. “We’ll go right now.”
I motion for Sydney to come with me, and the guard watches us walk away. He doesn’t order Garrett to do the same.
