Someone Like You (Blue Club 1)

by Robin Hart

  It was refreshing to be the annoying one. It was nice to not be an object to her. He did wish he could get her out of class, just once. Away from her computer, where she’d be vulnerable, confused, and hopefully, able to have some fun and see that people weren’t the monsters she seemed to think they were.

  “It’s a chick flick you know.” He said, whispering, though the class was nearly wrapped up, the teacher answering a few last questions about the homework, which was a six-hour lab. “We’re going right after class. We could even work on the lab later tonight, after.”

  “Hmmm.” She said, not looking up.

  “Why won’t you ever come out?” He said. “We don’t bite.”

  “Why do you keep asking after two years?” She said, sitting back, closing the laptop and folding her arms over her chest, which was indiscernible under her baggy sweatshirt. “I’m happy like this Justin. Why can’t you believe that?”

  “Because you need people Molly.” He said. “We all do.”

  “I don’t.” She said, rubbing her eyes to adjust her contacts, which felt a bit off. They always felt a bit off. Maybe she should go back to glasses. “Besides, I have to meet with Professor Bosey about the last lab. He gave me an A, but he marked down enough points that it looked like a B to me. I emailed him about it but he wants me to come in.”

  “Do you give change back at the supermarket when someone gives you too much too?” He said, knowing the answer. Knowing he did as well.

  “Of course, doesn’t everyone?” She said, looking at him and blinking a couple of times. He thought it was adorable when she did that, and knew that her contacts probably weren’t intended for prolonged wide-eyed staring at a computer screen. She was a good kid.

  “Well be careful.” Justin said. “Personally I think he’s a bit of a creep.” He looked to the door and saw the entourage waiting for him and sighed, wishing for an excuse to escape them and hang out with this much more interesting creature instead. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “No.” She said. “Why would I want that?”

  “I don’t know.” He said, feeling like someone had stuck a needle in his ego balloon. “Safety in numbers?”

  “As if anyone would hit on me.” She said.

  “It’s not like creepers choose victims by looks.” He said. “Not that you aren’t pretty.”

  She shrugged, but felt a little hurt. It was one thing to know you weren’t beautiful, it was another to have it feel implied by the most beautiful man in the world. “Well, I’m not.”

  “Well, how would you even know?” He said.

  “I don’t look like the girls in the hallway.” She said, zipping up her laptop in its case and winding the cord to stuff it in her backpack.

  “Yeah well, don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t put in the effort they do.” He put his own laptop in its case, slowly, stalling for more time to convince her to come out. It would make the night so much less boring.

  She looked at him, her eyebrows went down a little, and her mouth wrinkled. She put a finger up to her lips. “I suppose not.”

  “If you wanted to, we could do makeover night.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Wouldn’t you hate that?” She said.

  He stopped, feeling off balance. She’d nailed it. He’d been willing to do the girly stuff for her, but he’d have hated it. He didn’t know she knew that. Not something they discussed between programming.

  “Anyway, like I said, I have my meeting.” She stood, clasping her backpack in front of her, rather than slinging it over her shoulder.

  “Well like I said, you should be careful. You shouldn’t meet with men alone, even if they are professors.”

  Maybe if I was a normal chick, she thought. As is, I’m perfectly safe. So she waved him off, said she’d call about the lab, and headed down the hall to E wing.

  Justin was right. Molly realized it was probably because she was not like the other girls that this was happening, with a bit of dismay. If she’d had friends, if she’d had anyone who gave a crap, maybe if she was just a little nicer to other people, even if she was afraid of them, maybe Professor Bosey would have been as safe as she thought he was to see in his office alone.

  He looked over her paper, too close to her. She kept scooting subtly away, but he kept scooting closer. From the minute she’d walked into his office, she’d realized that he wasn’t treating this as a normal meeting. He was wearing casual clothing, a sweater and jeans. He was a shorter man, lightly bearded, non-descript blonde hair cut short, and quite heavy, though he probably would have preferred stocky. Not someone that ever stood out to her as a teacher. She could almost sympathize with him because she knew what it was like to not be an ideal, to not be the type noticed by the opposite sex.

  She wasn’t sure what to do. She’d been naive, thinking sexual harassment was something that only happened to pretty girls, and in the 60’s at that. She didn’t know if she should tell him off, and she didn’t want an F. Perhaps if she put up with his breath which was just a little too close to her neck, and his arm on the back of her chair, perhaps that’s where it would end. And neither of them would have to feel awkward. Perhaps he was just being friendly, fatherly, and telling him off would just make him angry. She didn’t know what to do.

  She pushed back her chair a bit to point at her screen, dislodging herself from his arm. “I just want the grade that is fair, professor. Nine points off a 50 point paper is not an A.”

  Bosey sat back in his chair, put one leg up over the other and stared at her for a moment. He shook his head slightly and pulled off his reading glasses. “You’re so honest Molly.” He said quietly, still looking at the glasses. “That’s what I like about you.”

  “Thank you.” She said, still pointing at the screen, her finger slowly drooping. “So honestly, I’d like you to adjust the grade.”

  “That kind of honesty is rare.” He said, putting a hand on the top of her laptop and gently forcing it closed. “I don’t think you realize how much.”

  “Erm. Thank you.” She said, pushing her chair back so that she could stand. “If you’ll just get that grade changed, I have to get going. Got to get to work on that lab.”

  “Or maybe.” He put a leg out to block her chair, trapping her against the desk. He moved his chair so that he was behind her, so that he could come around the front of her with his hands. “Maybe I could just forget about the lab, and give you an A.” His arms reached around to try to pull hers to her sides.

  She covered her chest. She could feel her heart in her stomach. Pounding. It was like something straight out of a manga, and she felt that she wouldn’t love reading them much after this. It wasn’t thrilling at all, it was disgusting, and frightening. And there wasn’t any handsome prince running in to stop him.

  “Stop acting like this.” He said, struggling with her arms. “I know you’re lonely. I am too. I know you don’t have any friends.”

  “I have a friend.” She said, thinking of Justin.

  “Oh yes, the girly boy who uses you for homework?”

  That shocked her enough that her arms dropped a little and Bosey was able to pull both down so that he could put both her wrists in his. She knew he was wrong though, Justin was every bit as smart as her, as much as she hated to admit it, so that was ridiculous. She didn’t know why he was her friend. Probably pity.

  “Stop it.” She said. “I’ll scream.”

  He put a hand over her mouth. She tried to bite him. She was glad he’d either have to release her hands or mouth to go farther. She wondered if she was his first victim. He’d only been at the university for a year. She’d thought he was nice, if a bit reserved, but pinned that on his newness. He’d been kind to her so far, and she’d thought he was just a kindred spirit.

  He dropped her hands and reached for the hem of her sweater. “Shhhhh.” He said, as she tried to push his hands off but didn’t succeed in stopping him from pulling up her sweater a few inches. “Don’t fight me.
We were made for each other.” He said. “This will be good for you too. Not to mention your grade.”

  She felt a tear tickling one of her eyes, felt it well up and start a tingly line down her cheek. It wasn’t that this man was doing it, it was that she could only blame herself for making herself a target with her solitude and her aloneness. That she would face this alone, and no one would know or care. Her only mild satisfaction was that in choosing her, hopefully another girl had avoided this. One that was more valuable anyway. She closed her eyes and imagined things were different, clutched his hands with cold fingers, and prayed.

  The girls walking ahead of him all looked oddly similar to Justin. Short skirts, tight jeans, shirts that hung low in flattering colors and ruffles. Hair that was straight and shiny in black and red and blonde. And they were nice girls, if a little shallow. He couldn’t discuss engineering with them. He couldn’t annoy them or make them act awkward. But they were good types. The type people expected him to be around.

  He took one last look over his shoulder to see Molly headed to E wing, taking wide strides that made her poof of hair bounce and her baggy sweater swing from side to side where it met the back of her legs. He really was curious what she would look like if submitted to one of those Cinderella makeovers in chick flicks and the weird comics she read. Apparently nerds could go from ugly to pretty with the wave of a mascara wand, but with Molly, it was more that he suspected she had great features if you could get the poof out of the way, and a great body if you pulled away the sweater equivalent of a plastic bag. He wondered if Bosey had noticed too. An icky, prickly sensation crawled along his shoulders when he thought of it. She really should have someone there with her.

  “And Justin’s the perfect guy to take to these movies. He’s practically a girl anyway.” One of his friends, Tina, was saying.

  “Thanks.” He said, frowning. “Listen guys. There’s something I have to check on real quick.”

  They turned as one and raised their eyebrows and folded their arms.

  “What do you have to check on?” Tina said, looking down the hall where he’d just been looking. “That girl from class?”

  “How did you-” He shook his head. “Never mind. Yes. I was hoping she’d come with us tonight.”

  “Well did you ask her?”

  “Yes.” Justin said, feeling more desperate to leave the conversation. “She said no. We have a lab together though. I’ll meet you all at the theater.” And then, despite hearing several comments about the disappointment he was causing, he turned to walk down the hall, the click clack of their high heels fading angrily into the distance.

  E wing was a very brown hall. The beige linoleum of the main hall ended and met orangey brown carpet that matched a little too well with the poopy brown brick. Justin wasn’t sure which office was Bosey’s. He wasn’t the type who visited teachers. The grade he got was the grade he got. He had a part time job, a social life, and a stellar lab partner, all of which factored into his grade, and what happened happened. He didn’t have time to be the person crying in the office that now he would lose his scholarship. Besides, he’d never had one. He wondered if Molly did.

  Finally he found the right door, a little corkboard a few inches across with a little name plaque above it that read N. Bosey. He tried to look through the window, but the blinds were closed so tightly he couldn’t see even a sliver of what was going on. He felt adrenaline start to run through his arms and hands and told himself to calm down. He was probably imagining things. He was too tainted by his own history, assumed everyone was an abuser. Calm down, Molly can handle herself.

  No she can’t. A little voice told him. She doesn’t even think she’s worth handling. He grabbed the doorknob, it was locked. Crap. All the blood left his brain and his fingers and pumped into his muscles, leaving him with a lot of panic and very little fine motor coordination. Still, he grabbed a paperclip from the little tray below the corkboard, and unbent it with shaking fingers. Why was humankind so disgusting? He didn’t know how he knew what was going on behind that door, but he knew, and he couldn’t stand it. Luckily, he’d gone on a kick where he’d been obsessed with learning to pick locks, because if anything freaked him out, it was a locked door. Too much happened behind locked doors. The only good locked door, was one that he could use to lock himself in and everyone else out, when he needed to be alone. But people who locked others in with them? No good.

  He finally heard a tiny click that signaled success with the door. He pushed it open and stepped in, careful to make sure he wasn’t hitting anyone.

  Molly heard someone rattle the doorknob. Did he have another appointment? Please god, let him have another appointment. Someone to distract him while she kicked him in the groin and ran. Her mouth was sweaty behind his hand, and she could taste the gross saltiness from his fingers, could smell it. He was still yanking at her sweater, and she was still fighting it. He hadn’t yet gotten it as high as her bra, thank heavens. This was so foul. She vowed not to read another shojo manga as long as she lived. She vowed to change, to be kind, to make friends, to not be alone anymore.

  The door stopped rattling. The hand stayed over her mouth. Bosey dropped her shirt and looked over at the door. “Did you invite someone to come with you?”

  She shook her head as much as she could with his hand there, her eyes wide with tears.

  “Of course not.” He said. “Who would have come with you?”

  She sighed, knowing he was right, ready to sob, when the door made a click noise and the handle turned. She tried to pull back and look at the door, tried to reach up and pull his arm off her mouth but he had already released her and was standing and moving apart from her. He looked at her with hard eyes that warned her to stay in place, and faced the door. She pulled her sweater down, trembling, and looked back to see who’d come in.

  Justin stood there, surveying the scene for a moment, his face splotchy with red, his brows pushed together, his hands clenching. He looked from Bosey, to her, and his eyebrows raised as if to ask her a question.

  “Help.” She said, pushing herself out from under the desk and moving away from Bosey so he couldn’t punish her for ratting him out.

  “It’s not what it looks like.” Bosey said, leaning against the wall and shoving his hands in his pockets, looking at Justin and shrugging. “In fact I’m glad you came by. Miss Harper appears to be having trouble.”

  Justin looked at her again. “So it would seem.”

  “He’s the trouble.” She said. “He attacked me.” She pressed against the wall as if she could disappear into it.

  “I think you could probably guess what happened.” Bosey said, adjusting his sweater. “Sometimes students get the wrong idea. I admit I’ve tried to be kind to Miss Harper, and perhaps misled her in someway, however unintentional.”

  “He’s lying!”

  “I think it’s obvious, when you look at us, who attacked who. She has very few friends, and I suppose she must have imagined something between us.” He rubbed his brow. “I’d appreciate it if you could escort her back to-”

  He didn’t finish his sentence because a fist smashed through one side of his face to the other, making his head fly to the side, taking his body with it down to the ground, spittle flying down behind him in an arc from his mouth.

  “I know that it’s sometimes the loneliest kids that people choose for sick games.” Justin said, grabbing the man by the front of his shirt and bringing him up, only to slam his fist into his face again. “I know that people take advantage of people they think can’t defend themselves.”

  Bosey slumped to the ground and Justin pulled him up by the hair. “And I know that, more than anything, abusers will lie, because people will often trust them over the victim.” He punched him one more time in the eye. “But not me.” He let him fall to the ground, then looked up at Molly. She was cringing against the wall, her shirt still stretched on one side where she held it with one hand as low as it could go, her other hand pressed aga
inst her mouth, palm out, fingers shaking.

  “I’m sorry Molly.” He said. “I just have to call the police real quick. And you’ll need to give a statement.” He pulled out his phone and dialed 911. “Yes, I’m calling to report a sexual assault. No, not me.” He gave the address and details and put the phone in his pocket. His knuckles throbbed. He looked at Molly, not sure what would be best right now. He didn’t know what she would want. He’d never been rescued, and he didn’t know what would have felt right at that moment anyway. He held out a hand to her in case she wanted to come over, but she just shuddered against the wall.

  “Molly, it’s okay, it’s over now.” He said.

  “I can’t believe you did that to him.” She said. “I’m so sorry. You’re going to be in trouble, and it’s my fault.”

  Justin raised an eyebrow. “It’s his fault, not yours.” He reached for Molly’s laptop to put it in her case, but she squeaked and he stopped. “And I won’t be in trouble. As long as you back me up that he attacked you.”

  She nodded. “Don’t touch my laptop.” She moved away from the wall as if testing her feet, and then came over, slowly running her hands over the bottom of her sweater. She reached for the laptop and almost dropped it. He held the case so she could drop it in.

  “Well you were right.”

  “I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m not glad to be.”