SNAPPED (The Slate Brothers 1)
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I try to put Sebastian’s unyielding devotion to his father out of my mind, but the fact that I’m committed to the student advocacy group certainly doesn’t help. When we meet in the student center the following Wednesday, old lawyer Farrow is eager to discuss the precedents he uncovered for New Recruits Week being considered a violation of the student code of conduct.
“The trouble is that typically, we’re dealing with single instances— for example, a single case of sexual harassment, or a single case of underage drinking,” the grizzled lawyer reports.
“What about hazing? Does it constitute hazing, even if the people being initiated like it?” a guy asks, twirling his pen between his fingers thoughtfully as he speaks.
“I looked into that already,” Sarah says quickly. “In the past, the victim of hazing has had to be willing to actually call it hazing. I don’t think you’re going to convince a bunch of high school guys who just got drunk and laid to call the experience hazing.”
“Though if we can get them to call it initiation, that might be close enough,” Farrow says, giving Sarah a pleased look. She beams.
“And let’s see, legal legwork aside— Miss Sawyer, were you planning to attend the game this weekend? It’s the last one before New Recruits Week starts on Monday, so it seems wise to further become acclimated to football culture,” Farrow says, peering at me over the top edge of his reading glasses.
“I— sure,” I say, shaking my head. “Though is there anything specific that we’re looking for?”
Farrow looks alarmed. “Negative behaviors.”
“It’s a college party. It’s full of negative behaviors, but not just because they’re football players.”
I can tell I’ve said the wrong thing by the way all the students in the room rush to stare at their papers. Farrow’s eyes harden on mine. “Now this is the trouble— it’s why New Recruits Week is such a problem. You attended what, a single party, and you’re already justifying the football team’s behavior?”
“It’s not because I attended a party, it’s just—“
“Girls like you are fortunate, Miss Sawyer. You have grown up with an immense amount of privilege, and that allows you to value yourself and your body too much to let a football player use you for sexual pleasure. What if you were someone poorer, though, or someone less educated? These players ship girls like that in and then manipulate them into sexual affairs. Into drinking. Likely into drug use, from the way things look. And even good girls, like you, can easily wind up falling victim to a sports star’s swagger. Another statistic, another woman with a bright future used and disposed of by a man lucky enough to be born with muscles. This isn’t about New Recruits Week— that’s just seven days of debauchery. It’s about a system that idolizes football players and their pleasure over everything else. That’s what we’re taking on, Ashlynn.”
Farrow’s words are sharp, direct, delivered with an intensity that belongs in a courtroom drama. The room is totally silent— I can’t even here the other students breathing, and all rustling or tapping on phones has stopped. My own breath is unsteady, and I swallow to try to regain my composure. His ideas sound old-fashioned but carry weight nonetheless. Football players are gods, and they know it— why else would they proudly claim a tradition of getting high school seniors drunk and into bed with cheerleaders? Why else would guys like Conor or that creep from the party think they can treat me and probably countless other girls however they want?
Why else would someone like Dennis Slate think he could get away with murder— and why would getting away with it be a real possibility?
I’ve known from the start that I should call things off with Sebastian. But at every corner, I’m justifying my being with him, taking my clothes off, letting him take me again and again…I close my eyes, hoping a moment of darkness will help me collect my thoughts. I can’t work out what’s true— if I’m making the decision to be with Sebastian because I want him, or because I’ve somehow fallen for the Sports Stars Are Gods system. Did my aunt want to be with Dennis? Or was she a victim of the system too? She was smart, together, collected…but so am I.
“Maybe you need someone to go with you,” Sarah says gently. “I bet Juliet can get us both in. Or are you able to just go now? Could you bring me, too? We can watch out for each other.”
“Yeah,” I say uncertainly. “Yeah. On Monday, we’ll meet up then go over together. That’ll help.”
The game on Saturday is as bright and loud and vibrant as the previous one I attended, though now the nip of autumn is in the air and everyone has eagerly trotted out their Berkfield colored scarves and hats and sweaters. Maddy, Emily, Becca and I lump together drinking spiked cider from a thermos Emily packed, even though it’s barely cold enough to justify warm drinks. Sebastian has been texting me all day— he wanted me to meet him before the game, which I suspect meant that he wanted to have sex with me before the game. I wanted it too, but after the student advocacy meeting on Wednesday, I feel like I needed a few days of not succumbing to Sebastian Slate might help me clear my head.