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I feel my face scrunching up into an ugly mess as I croak out, “He tried to rape me.” I swallow another sob while my head lowers. I’m trying desperately not to cry, but the tears keep coming. I inhale deeply, trying to control my breathing. A sob escapes and I curse myself for being so weak.
“Have you reported it?” I hear Mr. Brown asks.
I lift my gaze and see he’s still leaning against his desk, but his gaze has softened. I shake my head and he sighs, uncrossing his arms while turning around and dumping himself into his chair.
“Rachel, you need to report it to the police. And the school authorities.”
I shake my head. “It’s too late. It happened last semester and-” I sniff while unzipping my bag. I know there’s a tissue in here somewhere. “And in the end he didn’t do anything.”
“Rachel,” Mr. Brown says sternly. “That still doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let it go. What if he does it again to some poor unknowing girl and actually succeeds?”
I shake my head, but I know deep down he’s right. “No one will believe me anyway,” I whisper.
“I believe you.”
I watch Mr. Brown pinches his nose while leaning back in his chair and I feel guilty for making him feel so stressed. I shouldn’t have told him, I tell myself. I should handle this on my own. I’m not a kid anymore.
“I’m sorry I involved you,” I murmur.
“No, I need to know this,” says Mr. Brown while turning back to me. “I did wonder why you acted so strange sometimes in class. Now it makes sense.” Mr. Brown sighs. “Unfortunately, I can’t kick Josh out of my class. I could, if you informed school authorities, but as of right now, I can’t.”
I nod. “You don’t have to do anything, Mr. Brown.”
“Do you have a class to rush off to after this one?”
I shake my head. “No,” I say, a bit confused as to why he’s asking. “I have a class, but there’s a bit of a gap.”
“Good. We can leave together. And I will arrive earlier. If he approaches you, I’ll call you to my desk.”
My eyes widen. He’s going to try to protect me? From Josh? He’d do that for me?
“In the meantime, report it to the police and the school authorities,” says Mr. Brown while pointing at me. “They might not do anything, but at least your conscious will be clear.”
“Thank you, Mr. Brown.”
He nods and with that I turn around and walk out into the quiet hall. Mr. Brown’s words swim in my head as I walk out of the art department and into the bitter chilled air. What he said made sense, although I’m still worried about the repercussions. What if I reported it, but no one other than my boyfriends and Mr. Brown believed me? What if I became the university’s number one ‘girl-who-cried-wolf’?
I tilt my head back and look up at the cloudy sky. My eyes hurt. They feel swollen from all the crying. A thought tickles the back of my head that I never did get my coffee, and I decide I desperately need that pick me up while I decide what to do.
