There is a consensus of “Yes” around the room. Someone shouts “Go, Grace!”
Grace turns around. “How can I help you, young lady?” the officer says. He’s already exhausted.
“We are here to report a rape,” she says. “Several rapes, actually. We have proof. It’s online. I can give you the website address to Spencer Klimpt’s blog, where he basically confesses to—”
“Stop right there, honey,” the cop says. “I’m going to have to call in the chief on this. You girls sit tight.”
“Can’t we talk to you?”
“No, I think this is really something for Chief Delaney.” He hands a clipboard to Grace. “Will you have everyone sign this?”
“What is it?”
“We need a record of who’s here if you want to file a formal complaint.”
“Oh, okay.” Grace takes the clipboard and starts working on getting everyone signed in. Rosina texts her mother that she can’t come to work tonight. The room throbs with energy. The girls are electric.
“Yeah, hey, Chief,” the cop says into the phone. “O’Malley here. Sorry to bug you. I have a couple of dozen girls here in the station who say they want to report a rape or something. . . . Something about a website and that Klimpt boy, and I remember you said you wanted to handle anything concerning . . . Yeah, I know. . . . Sorry. . . . Yep. See you soon.” He hangs up the phone, looks around the room, and sighs. “Chief Delaney is on his way. But it may be a while, so you probably want to make yourselves comfortable. I’m sure not all of you gals need to be here.”
There are only two benches in the waiting area, so most of the girls sit on the floor. Grace confers with Lisa Sutter, Abby Steward, and the two other girls mentioned on the blog, to go over what they’re going to say to the police chief. Some girls do homework. Others mess around on their phones. Rosina avoids repeated phone calls from her mother.
A buzzer rings as the door opens.
“Hey, everyone,” says Elise Powell, who is soon tackled with a barrage of hugs by half the room.
“I can’t believe your parents let you come,” someone says.
“They don’t exactly know I’m here,” Elise says. “I’m supposed to be at the library studying.”
“I can’t believe parents still fall for that one,” Sam says.
But Elise is not the only new arrival. A large, sheepish figure emerges behind her in the doorway. “Look who I found in the parking lot,” Elise says.
Jesse Camp smiles and waves awkwardly. “Hi,” he says. “I heard about what you guys were doing and I wanted to help. I thought I could come and give a statement about Spencer’s character or something, since I’ve heard him brag about this stuff for years.” He looks down. “I don’t know,” he says. “Do you think that could help?”
“Yes,” Grace says, stepping over her friends on the floor to get to him. She puts her hand on his arm. “Of course that will help. Thank you for being here.”
“They make a cute couple, don’t you think?” Rosina whispers to Melissa.
“Does she like him?” says Melissa.
“She won’t admit it, but yeah. She totally likes him.”
Rosina’s phone buzzes. “Dammit,” she says. “This is like the tenth time my mom has called in the past twenty minutes.”
“Maybe you should answer,” Melissa says.
“Stop being so reasonable.”
Rosina grimaces as she looks at her phone. “Here goes,” she says, and she answers.
Melissa can hear Rosina’s mom screaming. The words are unintelligible, but the anger behind them is clear. Rosina holds the phone away from her ear and winces. “She’s threatening to throw me out if I skip work anymore,” Rosina says.
“I’m sure she doesn’t mean it,” Melissa says.
“Oh yes she does,” Rosina says. “She’s been trying to get rid of me for years.”
“Don’t say that.”
Rosina’s eyes are suddenly shinier than usual. It’s almost like they’re wet. It’s almost like there are tears forming.
“Mami,” she says into the phone, her voice breaking slightly. “I’m sorry. It’s an emergency. Please trust me.” Then she hangs up.
Melissa reaches for Rosina’s hand. They don’t speak, but their fingers stay entwined, their shoulders pressed together, for the next five long minutes, until Police Chief Delaney comes bursting through the door.
“Jesus,” he grumbles at the mass of girls blocking his way to the front desk. “Is it a full moon or something?”
“Chief Delaney,” Grace calls. “We’re ready to make a statement, sir.”
“Are you the leader of this?”
“No,” Grace says. “We don’t have a leader. I’m just helping to organize things a little.”
“Well, isn’t that noble of you,” he mutters. “So you want to talk to me? Who else? I’m not taking all of you back into my office.”
“It’ll be me, Lisa, Abby, Juna, Lizzy, and Jesse.”
“Jesse?” the police chief says. “Jesse Camp? Aren’t you one of Prescott High’s linebackers?”
“Not anymore, sir,” Jesse says. “I quit the team.”
“Might as well,” he says. “This year’s gone to shit anyway.” He looks at his watch. “I’m missing the kickoff for this, you know? Seahawks versus the Patriots. You’d better make it quick.”
Grace and the five others follow Chief Delaney to his office. Everyone else waits.
It is only twelve minutes before they come back out.
Chief Delaney makes it out the door before the waiting room full of girls has a chance to register that he’s leaving. Grace, Jesse, and the handful of Spencer’s victims emerge from behind the front desk. Tears are falling down Lisa Sutter’s cheeks. Abby Steward’s face is red with fury.
“What happened?” Elise asks.
“Nothing,” Abby spits. “I knew this was a waste of time. I can’t believe I let you talk me into this, Lisa. I fucking sat there telling him what Spencer did to me, and he wasn’t even listening. He was reading Spencer’s blog. He was fucking laughing.”
“He said there isn’t sufficient proof that the website belongs to Spencer,” Grace says flatly. “And even if there was, there’s nothing on there that’s prosecutable.”
“That’s bullshit,” Elise says.
“I told him I’ve heard Spencer talking about some of these girls,” Jesse says. “But Delaney said it’s just gossip. He said he couldn’t arrest people based on rumors and the word of a bunch of disgruntled ex-girlfriends.”
“?‘Disgruntled ex-girlfriends,’?” Lisa sobs. “Like that’s all we are. Like that makes everything we say useless.”
The room is silent, seething. The air is made of teeth.
“He didn’t even take a statement,” Grace says in disbelief. “He said it wasn’t worth it. He said it wasn’t worth his time.”
“So what now?” Rosina says. “He’s just going to wait to do something until those bastards rape again? Or maybe someone has to die before he gives a shit.”
“He’s just trying to save his own ass,” Melissa says. “If the police start looking back into what happened last year, they’ll find proof that Delaney totally screwed up the case, maybe even on purpose. He’d be ruined.”