Page 171 of The Perfect Love

A mix of anger and nausea wells inside me, and I find myself reaching for my phone.

I know I’ve said men are the problem—and they are. Men need to stop raping and assaulting women.

But society needs to stop allowing it to happen and hold them accountable. But they don’t. Not often enough. So I will.

“Smile for the camera, boys.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” the second guy demands.

“Making sure everyone knows exactly who to avoid.”

“Let’s get out of here and away from these psycho bitches,” the first guy says.

“Have the night you deserve!” Amanda calls after them.

I’m shaking as I text their photo and some brief details to the campus police tip line, and then to Nadine, so she can let everyone know to be careful as they leave the festival. Not that I think those guys will be around again.

“Holy shit. That was badass,” Amanda says. “I thought Rae and I were the ones trained in kickboxing.”

I laugh weakly. “My grandmother taught me a long time ago how to hit a man where it hurts the most: his balls, his ego, and his sense of superiority.”

“Nailed it,” Hyla says.

Rae meets my eyes. “Are you okay? I’ve been there. Fighting back. It feels good, but also…”

I nod. I don’t have words for how I feel either. Superhuman and yet incredibly small.

“I’m okay. But I’m ready to go home.”

Hyla loops her arm through mine. “Let’s go.”

We got back to our cars without any other issues, though Hyla took my keys and drove my car back to the apartment building while the rest of the girls drove to the lake house. We all made strict promises to text when we got home so we know the others are safe.

As we stand in the lobby of my apartment building, Hyla wraps me in a hug.

“I’m proud of you. Your strength tonight was beautiful and powerful. I hope once you process all that, you feel the same way.

“Thanks,” I whisper.

Hyla is staying with Robbie since he has two bedrooms, and as Hyla put it, she doesn’t want to overhear sex noises.

Fair.

“Do you want me to walk you up to your apartment?”

“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

And just like Trevor would, she makes no move to go into Robbie’s apartment, instead waiting for me to go upstairs.

It’s not until I’m right outside my apartment that I hear the click of the door downstairs.

My brain feels fuzzy, and I’m not sure if I want to laugh or cry or rage. But Trevor’s waiting for me inside, and if nothing else, I need him.

I swing the door open and walk inside, quickly closing and locking the door behind me.

“Hey, baby,” Trevor calls from the bedroom.

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