“What kind of drugs?” Strong asked.
Lawrence bit her lower lip, which was trembling. “I don’t know all of it. Cocaine for sure. And, like, maybe some meth. He called it a speedball. But I think he put something in my soda too.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I woke up a couple of hours later in his bed,” she said, looking at her lap again. “I don’t remember how I got there. But I was naked and…sore.”
“Sore where?”
“You know,” she said, and she started crying.
Strong approached the box, gave her a tissue, said, “You’re doing fine.”
Lawrence nodded, but she wouldn’t look up.
“Was the accused there when you woke up?”
“He came into the room.”
“Did he acknowledge having sex with you?”
“Kind of.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“He said we shared a little secret now. He said if we didn’t keep the secret, I could end up like Billy and Tyler.”
“The kids who overdosed?”
Lawrence nodded and broke down again.
After Sharon had composed herself, Strong asked, “Was the sex consensual?”
“No,” she said forcefully.
“But you’d gone to Coach Tate’s house. You’d done drugs with him. You’d flirted with him. Certainly you must have thought sex might occur.”
“Maybe I did. But I was never given the chance to back out or say no.”
“He just drugged you.”
“Yes,” Lawrence said, her shoulders trembling.
“And he raped you?”
“Yes.”
“How old were you when this happened?”
“Seventeen.”
“You report it?”
She hung her head, said, “Not at first, no.”
“How long did you wait until you reported the rape?”
“Like, the day after they arrested Stefan?”