Brianna

Jace walks me outside, to where he said Toby said he'd be today, and then goes in to eat with his normal crowd... so that the two of us can talk, he says.

Toby's waiting for me, with food, just like always.

That's one thing my parents don't really care to enforce. I heard my therapist telling them to make sure I eat, but all they've done is shoved simple suppers into my room and made sure that I have a lunch sack in my backpack. Not that they check to see if there's anything in it. And the suppers are easily-enough gotten rid of since I have our family cat, Jasper, in my room to keep me company. The animal will seriously eat anything.

I mean, I guess this just proves my point. If I wasn't overweight, my parents would have me eat, right? Right.

But that's not what Toby seems to think.

He even knows how to keep me just long enough that I won't be late to class, but I won't have any time to purge beforehand.

He greets me with a smile and a quick hug.

"Hey, Bri," he says quietly. "How's your first day back been?"

I shrug. "Fine." I hesitate before adding, "You didn't have to ask Jace to do that, you know."

"I wouldn't have if I hadn't have known that he would want to do it anyway if he knew it was going on," he replies simply. "But he's always hated bullying, and this gave him a chance to help stop it."

I look at the ground and don't answer, sinking down to a seat on it after a long moment.

Toby does the same, handing me a Tupperware container that's hot from the food inside. He usually heats up some of their supper from the night before, so that it's a real meal, I guess. There's a fork inside with the spaghetti, and I twirl a few noodles around it, putting off actually eating it for as long as possible.

"So," he begins hesitantly, "you know that trial on Saturday?"

I nod, staring at the food I'm still playing with.

"Two things," he continues, "first, you're not gonna let anyone make you lie about this one, are you?"

"Why would I lie?" I ask, playing dumb because it's easier than lying again.

He sighs lightly, but doesn't push. "Second, I have a friend who works for the police department, and when he heard your story, he said he wanted to help you get ready for the court date. Since it's pretty obvious your parents aren't going to be hiring anyone to do it."

"He doesn't have to do that," I whisper. "You don't have to keep walling in favors for me, Toby."

"I didn't call this one in," he replies easily. "he read your story in the paper and saw my name, so he asked me if he could do something to help."

I bite my lip. "Why?"

Toby considers me for a moment before anwering. "I'm gonna let him tell you that part. He said he'd stick around the area during your lunch period so that he could come over here and talk to you. You want me to let him know you're here?"

"Tell him he doesn't need to do that for me."

"He wants to, Bri," Toby presses gently. "He wouldn't have offered if he didn't want to. At least let him come over here and talk to you himself."

I don't say anything, because I'm not gonna agree, but I know arguing is no use.

Toby sends a text, then seems satisfied with the answer.

I eat a few bites of the food before I feel like I'm going to puke and I close the container and hand it back to him with my usual whispered, "Thanks."

He gives me a slightly sad look at the amount I ate, but he doesn't push, setting the dish aside.

As he does, I see a cop car pull into the nearby parking lot and an officer steps out. He's young and handsome, average height, well-toned, and buff.

He walks towards us with a ready smile, and we both rise to meet him. He greets Toby with a hug, then they both turn to me.

"Bri," Toby says, "this is Caleb."

His handshake is firm, and there's something comforting and strong about his touch.

"Hey, Bri," he greets me. "Nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too," I mumble, staring at the ground.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see compassion in his own. He gestures to the ground, and we all sit once more.

"Why are you helping me?" I whisper before I can stop myself. "Why do you believe me? No one else does."

"That's sort of the same answer to both questions," he says quietly. "See, when I was young, about three, I was sexually abused."

My eyes snap up to his, and he offers me a halfhearted smile. "I want to help because I know how hard what you've been through is," he continues softly. "And I believe you because I know no one can fake sexual abuse as well as this. It's obvious you've really, truly been through it." He hesitates before adding, "I know what you're going through, Bri. Before anything else, I want you to remember that."

"Okay." It comes out choked, and Toby reaches out and squeezes my arm gently. I bite my lip, trying to do the same to my tears. "So, what should I do on Saturday?"

A smile touches his face. "That's the spirit. Okay, frist off, I'm gonna ask a few questions, but if you don't want to answer, you don't have to, okay?"

I nod wordlessly.

"First..." He hesitates. "What did he do with your clothes. How... you know..."

"He tore them off," I whisper.

Caleb nods, and, with Toby's hand still on one arm, he reaches out and takes my other hand.

"Do you still have them?"

I nod.

"Okay. Bring those on Saturday."

"Okay."

"Do you have anyone besides Toby who believes you about what happened?" he continues after a long moment.

"My youth pastor and pastor, and my dance teachers."

"Are they set to testify?"

"My pastors are," I reply simply.

He nods in satisfaction. "That's probably good enough." He hesitates, thinking. "No one was in the house when it happened?"

I shake my head. "His parents got home and I got away from him and into the bathroom."

"And then?" he presses gently.

"He gave me back my clothes and asked me not to tell anyone, that we'd work it out, but I went out and told his parents, and he came in and said we'd just... just had sex, and everyone ended up believing him."

"How did he convince them of that?" Caleb asks, disbelief written on his face.

I shrug. "He's charismatic like that."

"Gotcha." He sighs. "Okay, so no help from them? Are you close with any of your teachers at school?"

"One dance teacher, Becky," I say uncertainly.

"Has she seen anything Lincoln's been doing to you since?"

I shake my head. "He sings, and anyway, everyone knows better than to let Becky see them bullying people."

He nods understanding. "Has she noticed any change since what happened?"

"I guess," I sigh. "She also dances in my company, and, um, I kind-of... showed them my arms before anyone else, so..." I trail off, shrugging. "She and I have talked a few times."

"She believes your side?"

I nod.

"Good," he says, seeming to be encouraged. "If you give me her number, I'll call and see if she can come on Saturday. A teacher's input will be well-trusted."

"Okay," I sigh, knowing it's no use to argue.

"I'm gonna be there, too," he tells me seriously. "I know you don't have any real legal representation, but I at least know how it all works and can help you out a little. And Bri?" he adds.

I don't meet his gaze. "Yeah?"

"Don't let anyone force you to lie this time. If they try, I want you to tell me, and I will deal with it, alright?"

I nod, still not meeting his gaze. "Okay."

I check my phone, and see that I have seven minutes to get to class. It's hard to believe it's been so long.

I grab my backpack and rise. "Thanks," I say to both of them. They get up as well, and Toby hugs me quickly.

"I love you, Bri," he says quietly.

I blink back tears as I pull back, and I find Caleb waiting there. Gently, he embraces me as well.

"Hang in there," he murmurs. "Toby will give me your number, and I'll text you so you can call me if you need to, and so you can give me your teacher's name, okay?"

I nod, and he releases me. I turn away and walk back towards the school, blinking back tears.

I keep my head down as I head to class, ignoring the whispers that follow me wherever I walk here.

But, just as I think I'm about to make it without incident, I feel myself being slammed into a locker, and I'm staring into Lincoln's face once again.

"Hey, you missed our lunch date!" he snaps. "It's not nice to blow people off, you zombie freak."

I don't answer, staring at the floor and blinking back tears.

"Luckily, I made good use of the time," he continues, and I hear a note in his voice that scares me. "I thought it was too bad that you poor parents have to drive you everywhere, so I made them an offer."

Suddenly, I'm more than just scared.

"From now on, I'm walking you home."

>U[O