The Only Exception

by Magan Vernon

  For the first time in weeks I slept in my own bed. I could have stayed with Trey, but it didn’t feel right when I was getting ready to try and beat him in a debate the next morning. That didn’t stop him from showing up at my door the next morning with two steaming foam cups in his hands.

  “You know, I’m not sure many political opponents show up with a latte for the person they are about to debate against,” I said, taking the cup and stepping out of my apartment.

  Trey took my hand and we walked to the elevator. “Maybe they do and maybe they don’t. We don’t actually see what happens before the debates.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I guess you would know more about that than I do.”

  We walked through campus still hand in hand. It didn’t feel like it was different than any other day walking to class, but it was. We hadn’t talked about our debate since we argued about the condoms, and now we were using them regularly. I didn’t know what would happen afterward. If it would be such a fiery debate that we wouldn’t talk for awhile, or if it would ignite some passion to watch him talk politics, and I would pounce him right in front of the whole class. I would have settled for a happy medium.

  When we walked into the classroom there were two podiums sitting at the front of the room, just waiting for us. My hands felt sweaty, but Trey still never let go, leading us to our seats. I felt like everyone was staring at us, but I tried not to let it get to me. This was a huge part of my grade, no matter if I won or lost, I still had to at least not throw up and make it through.

  Dr. Westerfield came bounding in not long after we did, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. She stood at her desk, rifling through her papers as the rest of the class slowly came in. It was the first time since the first day of class that everyone was in attendance. It looked like everyone was ready to see the show. I had a feeling someone would be out with their camera phone and have the whole thing on YouTube by the end of the day.

  As the last person finally walked in, Dr. Westerfield stepped between the two podiums with her glasses perched on her nose. “Well, there are a couple of firsts with today’s debate. It’s the first time I’ve ever had a governor’s son in my class debating and the first time I’ve ever had a romantic couple go against each other.” She paced between the two podiums. “The rules are simple. The two debaters emailed me their list of five objectives. I will ask each of them as the moderator. One will respond first and the other will rebuttal to each question. I ask that you all hold any applause until the end and to remember to respect your fellow classmates.”

  She then walked over to an empty desk in the front and took her seat, bringing a small stack of papers with her. “And now, Trey, Monica, if you would like to take your places for your debate on contraceptive coverage.”

  Trey stood up first, and I slowly followed. It was like pushing through wet cement with each step, but I had to get to the podium. I took my spot behind the podium closest to the door and looked out into the classroom. Some people were actually paying attention and some were already looking down at their phones, probably ready to make video recordings.

  “Are the debaters ready?” Dr. Westerfield asked.

  “Yes,” we both responded.

  “Very good,” she said with a nod and looked down at her sheet of paper. “First question will go to Monica and then Trey will rebuttal. With rising health care costs, why should college campuses and clinics still offer free options of birth control to students and those who could not otherwise afford birth control?”

  “Thank you, Dr. Westerfield.” I took in a deep breath. “The Federal Affordable Care Act, provides wo—”

  I looked down at my note cards that were sitting on the podium. I had a canned answer planned and all written out, but all I saw was Joey’s face when I looked down at the note cards. I knew what my response had to be.

  I took a deep breath and then started again.”Six months ago I was just another student at Taylor and didn’t care one thing about politics or even if someone would be covered for birth control. Then I was raped.”

  A collective gasp came from the students in the audience and their attention was no longer on their phones, but directly on me.

  I swallowed hard. “No one ever goes right out and talks about their experience and you never really put a face to the person that tells their story. But I’m here to say that some guy at a party took advantage of me and didn’t use protection. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do, so I went to Student Health Services the next day and asked for the morning after pill.”

  I knew Trey’s argument on the morning after pill. He didn’t think it should be used as a form of birth control, the same way he felt that abortions were being used. That it was a person and not the child’s fault for someone else’s mistake.

  “I couldn’t get it. Since the contraception bill went into place, it wasn’t free for college students. I would have had to pay $100, and I didn’t have that. So instead I had to wait a month and pray I wasn’t pregnant. My opponent will argue with you that it’s about a child, not about a choice. I didn’t have a choice when that boy raped me. He took that choice away from me.”

  I saw some people shift uncomfortably in their seats. It wasn’t the easiest thing to talk about, but I knew I had to continue. “No one should have to feel like their free will is taken away and when it is, they should have the choice. If clinics and student health services didn’t provide those things, that takes away their options. Then what are they left with? Would there be more abortions? Would people find another way to extinguish unwanted pregnancies themselves? I can’t say. But I can say that once you take away choice, then there is nothing left.”

  Dr. Westerfield nodded, her expression not changing as she turned to Trey. “And your rebuttal?”

  Trey folded his hands on the podium and let out a deep breath. “When Miss Remy and I signed up for this debate, I thought I knew my stance on the topic. I was for sure my views wouldn’t change. I still believe in family values and am extremely pro-life, but then something changed. I’ve learned there are exceptions to every rule, and you can’t just put down a set of decisions that will affect everyone if you don’t look at those exceptions.”

  He shook his head, twiddling his thumbs in his hands. “I never thought I’d be the one to say that maybe emergency contraception isn’t a bad thing. Do I think that it should be handed out like candy on Halloween? Not necessarily. But when a girl has her choices taken away and is left with nothing, then that’s not right either. There are exceptions to every rule. The morning after pill and other contraceptives may not be everyone’s answer, but sometimes they are needed. And I can’t disagree with Miss Remy, that in a case in which a beautiful girl has her own choices taken by someone else, then there should be exceptions. Monica Remy is the exception.”

  I widened my eyes staring at Trey. He just looked back at me with a huge dimpled grin on his face. Not his political one, but the secret one he had for me. He just threw the debate in my favor. Not only that, but after all our arguing about contraception, he finally agreed with me on it.

  Dr. Westerfield didn’t seem too fazed by our responses and went on with the questions like nothing happened. Trey’s responses were all similar in which he stated his views, but basically still agreed with mine. When the applause erupted at the end I wasn’t sure if it was real or people were just too stunned to know what else to do.

  I grabbed my bag and went to leave the classroom, but then Dr. Westerfield called out to us. “Trey? Monica? Can I have a word with you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Trey said and took my hand and we went to Dr. Westerfield’s desk.

  Dr. Westerfield looked up at us, setting down her glasses. “When I paired you to together, I was expecting a fiery debate that would have the students thinking. I wasn’t expecting the love bug to bite the two of you.”

  I sucked in a deep breath. Shit, we were in trouble.

  Trey spoke first. “Dr. Westerfield I can explain.”
<
br />   She put her hand up. “There is no need to explain. You both did a fantastic job on your speeches. I actually sometimes wish that more politicians could learn to get along as the two of you have. You’ve crossed party lines and came to a conclusion instead of just butting heads. That’s what politics should really be about.”

  Dr. Westerfield smiled and Trey’s dimpled grin was so contagious that I couldn’t help smiling either.

  “Now get out of here before the other students start suspecting something,” she said, shooing us out of the room.

  As soon as we stepped outside the doors of Brown hall, Trey lifted me and twirled me just like he did that day at Taylor. When he set me down he gave me such a passionate kiss that I saw fireworks. It was definitely not appropriate for school, but I didn’t care. I kissed him back anyway.

  He took both my hands in his. “Not too bad for a first debate, Miss Remy.”

  “Not too bad, Mr. Chapman. Good to see that you are up for exceptions.”

  He pulled me closer, leaning his forehead against mine. He smelled exactly like the first day that I met him; peppermint and expensive cologne. I could never forget the way he looked at me with his eyes glowing and each one of his thirty-two freckles present. “You are the only exception, Miss Remy.”

  Epilogue

  We stood behind the large, blue curtain. I could hear the muffled sounds of the speaker on the other side, but didn’t know what he was saying. I was forced into wearing a red shift dress, and a girl with auburn hair never looks good in red. I kept adjusting the long sleeves and pulling down the skirt to make sure it wasn’t showing too much leg.

  “Will you stop fidgeting; you look breathtaking as always,” Trey whispered in my ear.

  Trey’s brother, Tripp, smacked the back of Trey’s head, and he turned around. All three of the Chapman boys wore matching blue suits and could have been triplets, if they weren’t all a few years apart. Trigg’s wife was there in her red dress, carrying their daughter. Tripp didn’t have a wife, but Trey was permitted to bring his longtime girlfriend. It made me feel special and nervous all at the same time.

  “Are we ready?” A lady came around the corner with a microphone attached to her ear.

  Governor Chapman adjusted his red tie and took Mindy’s hand. “A quick prayer first?”

  The lady nodded. “But make it quick.”

  We all held hands in a circle. The first time I prayed with the Chapmans I couldn’t say a word and was nervous that I would mess something up. But after years of being part of their world, I finally felt comfortable in their circle.

  “Dear Lord,” Governor Chapman began. “Please help to guide us on our new journey and to protect our family. All of our family.” His green eyes flickered to mine, and I shot him a wink. “Amen.”

  “It’s time, governor.” The woman came back out.

  The governor nodded and let his gaze fall on each one of us. “Are we ready?”

  Trey squeezed my hand. I still wasn’t used to the shiny ring on my finger that he put there. I couldn’t help stare at it even longer when he squeezed my hand and brought my attention to it. “I’m ready,” I whispered to Trey before he placed a quick kiss on my forehead.

  “Get a room,” Tripp whispered and then Mindy smacked the back of his head before smiling at me.

  Then I heard the speaker loud and clear. “And my fellow Americans, I’d like to introduce you to your Republican nominee for president, Kirk Chapman!”

  The lights were blaring as the curtains opened and Trey pulled me onto the stage. I used to hate being in the spotlight as his girlfriend, and now as the fiancé of the potential future president’s son, the lights were even brighter. But with Trey by my side, it wasn’t as bad. Nothing shone as bright to me as his green eyes did. It was like he would always tell me, there was always an exception to every circumstance. No matter how much I would be bothered by other people’s comments, I knew that my exception would always be by me. Trey was the only exception.

  If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review on GoodReads or whatever online retailer you picked up this book from.

  It keeps the author happy and you get your own chance to be a writer :)

  To my loyal readers,

  Thank you so much for picking up this book whether it was in Eformat, an EARC, or the paperback. If you pirated it...well...I guess it’s good that you like me, but really you should buy it because that supports an Indie author.

  On a more serious note, there has been a lot of talk out there about heavy subject matter, like the stuff in this book, as being used as a trope for authors. I didn’t write this book because that is ‘what’s hot’ I wrote this book for the survivors of rape. The ones who have been called ‘sluts’ for wearing a short skirt at a party or that they were ‘asking for it’ because they were flirting with a guy. It seems as if some people believe that it’s the girl’s fault and this causes her to believe it is her fault, which leads to even worse consequences.

  The fact is that most rapes do not get reported and most girls do not go and get help when they need it. They know it’s out there, but it’s an embarrassing and emotional situation. We have all these classes available about self-defense and when you first enter college you sit through a seminar on what women need to do to not get raped. What about teaching people not to be rapists?

  I did not write this book to prove that I had a political agenda. This book is a complete work of fiction, with peppered in flakes of my own experience. I know what it’s like to be the girl at a party that wants the guy to notice her, but he ends up noticing too much of her. I wanted to show Monica’s vulnerable side after the event happened and how she was able to overcome it. The contraception bill is very real and I did my best to show both sides of that. When I first wrote this story it was very one sided, but as I did more research, I was able to see both sides of this political bill. This is not just a love story, but a story of survival.

  If you or anyone you know has been in a situation like Monica’s, I want to let you know that you are not alone. Even if you get a call from the guy’s friends telling you to keep your mouth shut, you don’t need to. There are resources on campuses with student counseling services and they will direct you to where you need to go. They will help you through this. You are not alone. You are not a slut for wearing your short skirt. It doesn’t make it right for someone to take advantage of you if you’re drinking. You are a survivor and you will overcome this.

  -Magan

  About the Author

  Magan Vernon is a Young Adult and New Adult writer who lives with her family in the insurance capital of the world. She is in a very serious, fake relationship with Adam Lambert and constantly asks her husband to wear guyliner. He still refuses. She also believes her husband is secretly an alien, disguised as a southern gentleman.

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  Other Works by Magan Vernon

  The My Alien Romance Series:

  How to Date an Alien

  How to Break up with an Alien

  How to Marry an Alien

  The My Paper Heart Saga:

  My Paper Heart

  On Paper Wings

  Acknowledgements

  This book was a true labor of love. I know I’ve said that before, but this one really pushed me to the breaking point.

  I had a random idea that I wanted to write a book about a conservative guy and a liberal girl for years, but could never think of the perfect story. Then I watched an episode of New Girl in which Schmidt pretends to be Thugg Romney. Trey Chapman was born. But Monica...Monica was a work-in-progress from the beginning. I knew she had a past that she needed to escape and I tried to tip-toe around it, but if it wasn’t for my critique partners, this story wouldn’t have gotten t
he dark light it needed.

  First off, I have to thank Laura Pauling for asking the questions that needed to be asked and making me not skirt around the issues. Leigh Talbert Moore, thank you for having late night political discussions with me and getting to the root of the character’s conflicts. Juliana Haygert, thank you for making sure that I didn’t keep changing character’s names and keeping it real in the New Adult genre. Kelly Viel, my alpha reader, thank you for making Monica’s actions a little bit more real and keeping Trey grounded in reality as well. Chelsea M. Cameron, what would I do without you? You are my rock in all things New Adult. Karen Hooper, thanks for keeping me sane in all things writing and putting me in my place when I needed it.

  To The Indelibles, thank you for supporting me when I went out on a limb and wrote a political New Adult that may have hit on some tropes of the genre, but did them in a way that none of you cringed at me.

  Regina Wamba, at Mae I Design, I know how hard it was for us to stare at hot pictures all day, but I think your cover really gets the full “panty dropping” and politicalness that I was going for.

  Marcie at Looking Glass Editing, thank you for taking on this project when no one else would. I came to you saying that I had something controversial and you rolled up your sleeves and said “heck yeah!”

  Lizzy Seeberg, we never met. I only know your story and after reading it in the Huffington Post and the rude comments that followed, it gave me the courage I needed to finish this book.