Shut Out (Bayard Hockey #1)(17)

Our eyes meet. Once again, heat burns through me from his gaze, a feeling of being trapped, caught in a web of warmth that pulls me to him.

“Okay, it was a bit over the top,” he admits. “But I don’t know why you’re so pissed about it.”

I gaze back at him for a long moment. Finally I admit, “Neither do I.”

“You hate me.” He makes a face. “That’s why. I get it.” His mouth tightens and his voice takes on a bitter edge. “I guess I deserve it. Like I deserve all of this.” He slashes a hand out, then turns and walks away to find a seat.

I stare after him. What does that mean? His shoulders are tense, his spine stiff…and still, I can admire his ass as he walks away. Unlike some guys who have a serious case of lack o’ ass, he has an amazing butt.

I whirl around. Here I am trying to educate people about sexual harassment, and I’m objectifying him based on his ass. More hypocrisy. What is happening to me?

I take a few deep breaths and go over my training materials again. Soon I’m facing the group.

“Let’s review our learning objectives for this module. By the end of it, you all will be able to correctly answer at least two questions about the incidence and prevalence of sexual assault, identify at least one factor contributing to the underreporting of sexual assault, and list at least two myths and two facts about rape and sexual assault.”

I focus on delivering the training. By the end of the hour, I sense the energy in the room dipping. We need to do something to get people more involved.

I studiously ignore Jacob as he leaves the room along with the others, then turn to Grace and Chad. “I think we need to do something different for the next session.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for the myths and facts part, I’m thinking about handing out sticky notes for people to write their ideas on. Then they can bring them up and put them on the flip chart.”

Chad nods. “Sure. We can try that.” But Grace makes a face.

“I think we need to be a bit more interactive,” I explain. “A few folks looked like they were falling asleep tonight. Plus, I feel like some people”—okay, specifically the men in the group—“aren’t totally comfortable speaking up about these things. That way it will be anonymous.”

“Okay, sure, then.”

—

Grace still didn’t seem impressed with my suggestion, so I’m a little nervous the next day, but I leap into it. I ask everyone to close their manuals and I hand out sticky notes. “Take a few minutes and write down ideas about either a myth or a fact about sexual assault on these sticky notes. When you’re done, come on up and put your notes on either the ‘myth’ side or the ‘fact’ side.” I’ve already drawn the schematic.

When that’s done, we break into smaller groups and I start reading out the answers people have put on the chart, asking everyone to comment on whether the note is in the right place. Gradually, everyone opens up and we have some pretty interesting discussions about some of the things people have posted. Then I bring up a few that weren’t mentioned and we talk about whether rape can occur in same-sex relationships, and if men can be raped.

“Why do you think there’s a myth that men can’t be raped?” I scan the room now that we’re back in the large group, avoiding Jacob’s eyes.

However, it’s he who speaks up. “Biology,” he says dryly.

I nod and wait for other responses.

“I think there’s a belief that sex is something that men do to women,” one woman says slowly.

“Yes, exactly.”

“There’s a belief that men always want sex,” someone else says.

After a few minutes, I share a true story I learned last year, not using names, about a guy who got drunk at a party. This isn’t part of the usual training, but it was really impactful on me and I think it makes a point. The guy’s girlfriend had left the party, but he didn’t want to and kept assuring her he was fine. He passed out on a couch, and one of the hostesses offered to let him use her bedroom. While he was there, a girl climbed into bed with him and tried to convince him to have sex. “He was barely conscious, and she took advantage of him even though he tried to tell her he had a girlfriend and he didn’t want to do it.” I pause. “What do you think his friends said the next day when he told them about it?”

There’s silence for a minute, then one guy says, “They probably thought he was lucky.”

I nod. “Yeah, when he tried to tell his friends the next day, they were all astonished. They made comments like, ‘Lucky you, bro, give us the deets’ and ‘I bet she didn’t hold you down, you dog.’ They didn’t believe that a woman could have made him do something he didn’t want to. Some of them implied that he must have wanted it to happen. Imagine if the gender was reversed.”

Everyone is gazing at me raptly. Yeah, using this real-life story is effective.

“Because of societal pressures like that, men are less likely to report rape, but the effects on a man can be exactly the same.”

We wrap things up for the day. Everyone rises. Jacob stands too and stretches his big, muscled body. Our eyes meet and I see something on his face I don’t know how to interpret. His face is tight, his shoulders tensed and hunched. Then he turns away, pulling his cellphone out of his pocket, and I peer down at the empty coffee cup in my hand as he leaves.