“What exactly are you ‘just saying,’ Mr. Grant? That if a drunk girl approached you on a school bus, you’d take advantage of her?”
If the room was silent before, it’s a sterile vacuum now. I dare a quick glance behind me. Reggie squirms, then shrugs. I don’t know. I don’t wanna know. I want you off my back.
“A shrug.” Mr. Johnston’s voice is an arrow making its mark. “Am I to interpret that as ‘you don’t know’ or ‘you don’t care’?”
“Jeez. Let’s just drop it,” Reggie says quietly, buckling.
“No, no.” Mr. Johnston doesn’t drift an inch. “You brought it up. You decided geology class was the proper forum for this. So let’s talk about it. It sounds like you’re saying that if a drunk girl approaches you you’d be unable to ‘help yourself.’ Am I to understand this means you’d be unable to stop yourself from having sex with her, whether she consented or not?”
“That’s . . . that’s not what I said.” Reggie’s voice is shaky now.
“But in this scenario, the young woman is drunk, correct? I believe the word you used was ‘wasted.’” Mr. Johnston reaches over and grabs the yellow wad of permission slips, holding them up and addressing the entire class. “If a female student is ‘wasted,’ is she capable of giving her consent?”
“No.” Lindsey says this firmly and loudly. We all gasp for breath as if a hatch has been blown open and oxygen has once more flooded the room.
Mr. Johnston puts his glasses back on. He goes to the whiteboard and picks up a marker. “I have a hypothesis that there may be other choices to make if you come into contact with a young woman who is ‘wasted’ and ‘throwing herself at you,’ Mr. Grant. What else might you do in that situation—besides have sex with her?”
“I dunno.” Reggie mutters this, staring at his desk.
“Oh, c’mon. You’re a bright kid. B average. Doing pretty well in my class. I’ll bet you can think of one other option.” Mr. Johnston waits at the whiteboard, his eyes locked on Reggie. After a moment, he says, “Okay, I’ll open this up. Let’s help Reggie out. What else could you do if you’re at a party, or out somewhere, and you come across a wasted young woman? And for now, I just want to hear from the guys.”
“Get her some water.” Ben says this right behind my head, and his voice makes my whole body relax.
“Excellent.” Mr. Johnston writes 1. Water on the board. “What else?”
Wyatt’s hand flies up across the room. “A ride home.”
“Good thinking.” Mr. Johnston’s marker is squeaking away. “Other ideas?”
Guys all over the room start speaking up—some of whom I’ve never heard say a word during class before.
Find her friends.
Call her parents.
Get her a pillow.
Some Advil.
Make sure she has a safe place to sleep.
Don’t let her drive.
A list soon fills the board. “Thank you, men. All excellent alternatives to rape. There’s one other,” Mr. Johnston says. “Not as kind as the others, perhaps, but at least not harmful.” He adds the words Just walk away to the list, then turns back to face the class.
“Got the idea, Reggie?”
Another shrug.
“Sorry, didn’t hear you,” Mr. Johnston says.
“Yeah. Got it.”
“Glad to hear it.” Mr. Johnston puts the cap on the marker and places it back in the silver tray. “Words have meanings. When we call something a theory in science, it means something. Reggie, when you say that you ‘can’t help yourself’ if a girl is wasted, that means something, too. You’re saying that our natural state as men is ‘rapist.’”
Mr. Johnston leans toward us on the lectern at the front of the room. “That’s not okay with me, Reggie.” He points at the list on the whiteboard. “That’s not okay with the rest of this class, either.”
Mr. Johnston walks over to his desk and pulls open a drawer. He takes out a new yellow permission slip and walks it down the aisle, placing it on Reggie’s desk. “You have until Monday to get this back to me.”
Just before the tone sounds to end fourth period, Coach Sanders announces over the intercom that the bus for the varsity players will be parked behind the school, out of view of the news vans.
In addition to the satellite trucks, there are now a handful of protestors standing fifty feet from the front doors of the school. Several of them are wearing pink masks. Most are holding signs:
COME FORWARD
YOU TELL OR WE WILL
SHE NEEDS YOUR HELP