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“I’m going to tell you something,” Professor Richards continued. “Listen and analyze. A few years ago, a young woman named Lise Kosle was assaulted as she left the train station. A group of five men abducted her and took her to a building under construction. Four of the five individuals raped the young woman. The fifth man, when he was about to rape her, renounced his act. He gave up for a rather peculiar reason. When he was about to put on his condom, he had ‘an engine failure.’ This was a momentary physical impairment. He was still prosecuted. Only this man countered, he said that his momentary physical impairment showed his voluntary withdrawal. What do you think the judges said? Was he convicted?”
Well, I would be tempted to say no. I shake my head like most students.
I hear a slight rustling at my back. A husky voice reaches my ear.
“He’s been convicted,” Tucker announces, leaning toward me again, “I’ve heard this case before.”
I turn my head slightly, trying to ignore him.
“I don’t think so. The man played up the fact that the attempt was not carried out. To have an attempt, you need a beginning of execution and an involuntary interruption. Here, there is a beginning of execution but a voluntary interruption.”
Tucker smiles softly. He leans in a little more, his masculine scent invading my nostrils.
“Want to bet?”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see it and give in to the temptation anyway, wanting to put him in his place.
“You’re on.”
Tucker sits back down in his seat.
Professor Richards finally says, “The man is being prosecuted for attempted rape. To characterize the attempt in broad terms, there must be a beginning of execution and an involuntary interruption. Here, the man wants to show that his momentary physical impairment is indeed a sign of voluntary abandonment.”
I smile gently. Bingo, I won.
“However,” she continues, “the judges contradict his position. For them, it was indeed an attempt because the interruption was involuntary. It was a deficiency that could be explained anatomically and did not reflect the will of the defendant. End of the story.”
“Shit,” I breathed to myself.
I can already imagine the delighted look of the jerk behind me, satisfied to have won.
A few minutes later, as the class ends and the room starts to empty, I rush out of the room and run down the stairs, my bag slung over my shoulder.
“Hey, redhead!” someone calls me just as I pass the door.
I stop abruptly and turn towards this so particular look, ready to fight. “What, now?”
Tucker slowly but confidently approaches me.
“I won,” he announces to me with condescension.
I put on a bored, falsely disinterested face. “Oh, really?”
“You know,” he continues, leaning toward me conspiratorially, “they give private tutoring for struggling students.”
My jaw clenches and I try to keep myself from punching him in the face. “If you don’t stop, you’re going to have to take lessons to learn to walk again because I’m going to break your legs,” I spit.
He raises an eyebrow, not worried at all. A guy nearby calls him, but Tucker ignores him, concentrating exclusively on our conversation.
“However, I won the bet.”
“What do you want?” I grumble between my lips.
“I want you to come next week, to this little ‘crap,’ as you called it.”
I scoff.
“That thing where the wolves will eat the defenseless lambs?”
