I don’t mean to, but I look over at her screen, glance at what’s on it.
Then I stop in my tracks, because she’s got an email inbox open in her browser, and it’s for an email address I’ve seen before.
“What the fuck?” I say, and she jumps and whirls around, practically ripping her headphones off.
“Jesus!” she hisses. “Don’t do that, it’s two in the morning and I thought you were —”
“What the fuck is that?” I repeat, pointing at her screen.
She looks back, comprehension dawning instantly.
“I—"
“It was you,” I say, disgust winding into my chest, taking hold. “Holy shit. Why the fuck would you do that, Margaret? You went right over my head like that and never even bothered talking to me? Not once?”
She slams her laptop screen shut, plunging us both into near-darkness, but it’s way too late.
“I talked to you,” she says, defensive. “You weren’t interested in listening to me about how fucked up you were being, so I decided to try a different tactic so that maybe someone would listen and at least have second thoughts.”
“Second thoughts?” I ask, and now I’m loud, nearly yelling, and I couldn’t care less. “You think that getting me expelled and Caleb fired is the best way to make us have second fucking thoughts? You went that far over my head — you reported me to goddamn University Ethics — you’re getting my scholarship taken away so I’ll rethink my life choices?”
Now she’s standing.
“Wait —”
“I’m sorry your dad fucked his secretary and left your mom!” I shout, my voice pitching higher and higher. “Okay? I’m sorry that you think every relationship is a transaction of power —”
“Shut up!” she shouts, and for a second, I do. “What the fuck are you talking about, expelled?”
“I’m talking about you reporting Caleb and me to the administration,” I shout. “Because apparently it’s not enough to send fucked up emails to him, you also had to make sure that we got punished for doing something wrong according to whatever moral code it is you follow so religiously —”
“I didn’t report you.”
“Right, you just called my boyfriend morally bankrupt and a stupid dinglebat and what was that last one he showed me? Unscrupulous pervert or something, but no, it was some other asshole who tattled on us?”
“I wouldn’t get you expelled!” she says. “Thalia, I swear to God, I think he’s a total fucking creep for dating you but —”
“Thanks,” I say, practically spitting the word at her. “Thanks, sure, who could be interested in me but a total creep who just wants to pop my cherry for his trophy wall?”
“You can’t act like it’s not fucked up!” she says, pointing dramatically at the ground, like it’s going to help her make her point. “There’s no such thing as informed consent in a relationship where you are his subordinate —”
“You think I’m incapable of meaningful consent?” I shout, my voice wobbling. I’m half a second from crying tears of rage and trying desperately to hold them in, but it’s not going to work for long. “Because I’m younger than him? Because I’m a student? You think I can’t say yes and know what I mean? Fuck you.”
“I think it’s murky as fuck and he’s a creep for going after undergrads!”
“He’s not going after undergrads, he’s going after me,” I say.
Now I’m crying, my voice all over the place.
“You don’t know that,” Margaret says. “Maybe there’s some girl every year who thinks oh, my professor is really into me, I’m so cool and lucky.”
I feel like I’m going to throw up, or scream, or throw up while screaming and also strangling Margaret.
“Fine,” I say, angry tears pouring down my face. “Sure. Every semester, he picks some girl from one of his classes and uses his immense powers of assistant professorship to coerce her into great sex —"
“How do you know it’s great sex?” she fires.
“So you also think I’m a moron who’s happy to lie back and take whatever dicking she gets because she doesn’t know any better?” I say, sounding borderline hysterical because I can’t stop crying. “Do you seriously think I can’t tell when sex is great?”
I suddenly realize that Harper and Victoria are standing in the doors to their rooms, looking on, horrified expressions on their faces.
“How are you supposed to know?” Margaret snaps.
“Have I ever once given you shit for banging the entire men’s diving team?” I shout. “No. Because I don’t care who you sleep with, so how about you don’t be an asshole and virgin-shame me.”
“I’m not shaming you!” she shouts. “Fucking your professor is inherently coercive —”
“What a fancy phrase for I think you’re too dumb to make your own decisions.”
“Are you really this dense?” she shouts.
“Guys!” Harper says, trying to yell over us.
“No, I’m not dense,” I yell. “What I am is perfectly capable of making decisions about who I have sex with!”