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Slapping her hands to her face, Melody slowly began to back away from the screen as if it were suddenly toxic.
“Or at least, that’s what Melody claims,” Tess’s disbelieving voice continued. “But if you’d like to see what really happed to sweet, innocent Melody on the night of her quote-quote rape, just stick around. We actually have a video of the event, and we’d be happy to show you the truth.”
“Oh my God, oh my God! No! Someone turn this shit off.” She rushed toward the podium computer stand and grabbed the mouse to end the presentation. But someone—ahem, Paige and Logan—had already been in here to change the setting so that she needed a password to get in to the video controls.
She did not know the password, even though I did. It was IAmALiar.
Clueless, she screamed and pounded on the mouse, getting no results, while the video on the wall turned to my homemade peepshow.
“Oh my God, Beck! Right there. Right there,” her voice squealed through the speakers, making the real her slam her hand to her chest and gape in horror.
All the parents in the group gasped and tried to urge their high school children to stop watching, even though most of the high school students whooped and cheered. A couple of them pulled up their phones and began to take a video of my video. I’m pretty sure one guy was even live-streaming it to his social media account.
“It looks like maybe Melody Fairfield needs a bit of a lesson on what rape really is.” Tess’s voice reprimanded as she continued. “That’s why we here at the Student Health Services center are more than willing to educate her. You see, Melody dear, rape is not when your boyfriend catches you screwing another guy, and you lie and tell him you were forced so you don’t get into trouble. Rape is where you tell the boy no, and you’re not a willing participant. Rape is when you really are forced. Like sixteen-year-old Brittany Hilliard. Now Brittany really was raped this summer by Daylon Raider. And it just so happens Daylon is in the crowd with us today. Why don’t you stand up, Daylon, and show yourself, so Melody can see what a true rapist looks like.”
Daylon’s father surged to his feet, fuming. “What the hell is this? What’s going on here? I will sue this entire school if you don’t shut that video off right now.”
“After Brittany told him no and tried to struggle to get free from him, he pinned her down and held his hand over her mouth as he forced his body into hers.”
The screen flashed to a picture of Brittany, pale and cowering in a sweatshirt with her wet hair plastered to her head. But the centerpiece of the photo were the bright purple bruises on her neck, arms, and face.
“Brittany was raped. Melody was not. Brittany still wakes up screaming from the nightmares she has of him covering her mouth and cutting off her air flow. She’s been admitted to a mental health facility twice since the attack and cloisters herself in her room when she’s home. She’s also dropped out of school and stopped talking to her family completely.”
Pictures of Brittany before and after her attack flowed across the screen. It was obvious, she’d been completely scarred by what had happened.
“Melody, on the other hand, still attends class and leads tour guides, smiling and happy, as if nothing bad happened to her. Because nothing bad did happen to her.”
Before Tess’s voice could continue, Daylon Raider kicked the computer’s mainframe, sending wires and sparks flying. The video on the projection screen went dead and the room fell dark.
A few people screamed. Chaos reigned as a mad scramble toward the exit ensued. Amidst the fear, some laughed and some demanded an explanation.
Suddenly, the lights popped on as Deb flew into the room, crying, “What in the world is going on in here?”
I decided that was my que to leave.
But just as I ducked out the back door with a family of three—the mom and dad trying to shield their daughter form the nearby rapist—I glanced back just in time to make eye-contact with Melody.
Shock marred her face just as she pointed my way. I gulped and rushed through the door.
Oh, crappity, crap, crap!
This could be bad. If Melody knew I was behind this—
Well, duh, she had to know I’d been involved in some way; it had been my freaking video of her with Beck on that screen. I could totally get into trouble for interfering with the campus tour, scaring off prospective students that might’ve actually been interested in attending Granton, and tampering with Human Health Services’ property.
Oh, hell. Why hadn’t I thought of just how much trouble I could get into?
And it really seemed like it’d be worse if I was caught actually at the tour. Crap. Why hadn’t I listened when everyone had told me to skedaddle? I suddenly knew why they’d wanted that.
Hurrying from the building, I waited until I’d reached the History department before I glanced behind me. I wasn’t expecting Melody to actually follow me, so I nearly pissed myself when I caught sight of her exiting the building behind me and frantically glancing around as she talked on her phone until she spotted me.
When she started after me, definitely zeroed in on me, I whirled away and took off running.
Shit on a monkey stick, I think she’d just called in reinforcements. I ran faster.
Reaching the edge of a building, I veered around a corner, still running full out. I started to race toward the other end so I could turn again, but my pace was already lagging.
Unfortunately, I think Melody was more inclined for this running shit than I was, so when I passed a side entrance of the building, I darted inside. Glancing over my shoulder as the glass door slowly swayed shut behind me, I saw she’d turned the corner and had spotted me entering. So either I needed to get lost in here, or I needed to find another exit and make a mad dash for my car.
