“It was definitely not a ‘I just wanna be friends’ moment,” she told me quickly, interrupting me before I got absolutely furious with her. “But I don’t think it sounds like he was, you know, trying to do anything. He was just hitting on you. Guys do that.”
I stared at her blankly, trying to deal with the torrent of emotions swirling inside of me. Hurt, anger, fear. I was trying to understand how she could come to that conclusion. How could she listen to that story as I’d lived it and think it was nothing more than a guy hitting on a girl? “But he grabbed my arm!” I told her urgently, suddenly needing her to see it how I’d seen it.
Becky looked uncomfortable for a moment, then she tilted her head to the side and fixed me with an assessing look. She looked at me like that for a long time b
