Complaints about my lack of update this week can be sent to my debate coach, yearbook editor and Peer Helper coordinator@my school. com. Just kidding. Sorry I took so long, but this week was really, really crazy. I promise I'll try harder this week, but I'm going for a tournament next weekend, so things are going to get crazy. Thank you everyone for your patience and not giving up on my story! And thank you so much for the reviews!

I've tried to keep all the legal stuff out, but it got a little much in this chapter. I've cut it down as best I can.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day was boring. Well, at least in comparison to the day before. Jenny finished with having Officer Collins testify about the investigation. My first complaint, him calling me, e-mailing me, breaking in, my breakdown. There was nothing there I hadn't been expecting. Then it was Dean's lawyer's turn. First they called an "Expert witness". What he basically said was that what had happened to me was I had completely lost my mind due to stress cause by my false rape accusations. Jenny got up and asked him which would cause more stress- having falsely accused someone of rape or bring raped. He said being raped. She asked him how common a nervous breakdown was in rape cases. He said they weren't unheard of. She asked how often girls who falsely accuse guys of rape have nervous breakdowns. He said he didn't know the actual statistics. She if it was more or less. He said less than girls who are raped. She asked him how many girls he had studied to come up with there numbers. He said twenty-two. Jenny didn't need to ask anything else.

In the afternoon, I got angry. Dean had a couple of his friends say that I had come on to him, and that I had made it clear that I wanted to go somewhere to do more than talk. I nearly stood up and shouted at them. Jena had to hold me down. One of Dean's friends said that he had heard me with Dean. That I had been enjoying it. I knew my eyes were burning when he said that. I made sure to glare at him, then look at the jury. The jury was made up of five women and seven men. Two of the men and one of them women saw me. One of the women and one of them men proceeded to glare at Dean's friend. Jena squeezed my hand and smiled.

"Do you want to pick up your homework?" Dylan asked on our way home, a block away from school.

I shook my head. "I'll get it tomorrow." I was tired, and I really didn't feel like doing anything but crashing in front of the TV.

"Okay. Just make sure you do it. Grade nine math's a bitc- never mind."

I smiled at the fact that he thought he still needed to censor his language around me. I giggled, then promised I would.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing." I stifled another giggle. "Nothing at all."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

If I had thought the things that were said about me before were bad, I wasn't ready for Dean's testimony.

"I met her at a soccer game. She was a cheerleader. She was hot. And she was flirting with me. So I invited her to a party."

"What happened at the party?"

"She came on to me some more. I was into her. I didn't know she was in grade nine. When she invited me upstairs, I went for it. Who wouldn't. I didn't know how easy she was at the time-"

"Objection!"

"Sustained. The jury will disregard the defendant's last comment."

"So what happened when you got inside the room?"

"I turned on the light, but she turned it off. She said she liked it dark. We whispered. I don't think she wanted anyone else to know we were in there."

"Why not?"

"I heard she was going out with some other guy."

"Objection."

"Sustained."

"What happened next?"

"She kissed me. We walked over to the bed. I asked her if she was okay with whatever we were doing, and she wanted more. And well, the rest is history."

"You had sex with her?"

"Yeah."

"Did she agree?"

"Yes."

"Did she at any point say no?"

"No."

Again, Jena had to hold me down. I was ready to strangle him with my bare hands.

"He's lying," I whispered desperately. "That's not how it happened."

"I know," she said soothingly. "I know."

Again I felt tears burn at my eyes. I fought them back this time. I didn't want to cry, I wanted to be angry. I wanted to hurt him. A lot. The tears pushed farther and farther, but I wouldn't cry. They started to hurt, pent up behind my eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry that I slept with her. I wouldn't have done it if I knew she was going to get upset that I didn't call her. She was good for a night. That's all. I know it's not the best attitude to have, but it's the way I am. If she didn't want to sleep with me, she could have said no. She pushed me into it. It's not my fault."

I looked at the jury. They were buying it. They thought I was a slut. How could he do this? How could he get away with this? I wasn't a slut. Yes, I dressed like one that night, but I didn't want to sleep with him. And now they thought I was a slut.

And it was then that I finally understood what I'd spent almost a week obsessing over.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

That night, as I had told Dylan, I went to school to pick up my homework. Besides an essay and a french project, the only thing I had missed was three pages of linear relations. Who cared that y=mx+b?

What I hadn't been expecting was to find what I did when I left the school. There, off to the side of the school, Spinner and Jimmy were playing basketball. I put my bag down and stepped into the court.

Jimmy and Spinner both looked at me. I had no doubt I looked ridiculous in a blouse and skirt, but Jimmy didn't say anything. He didn't even snicker. I had the suspicion that Spinner had told him what was going on, but didn't say anything. Spinner went right back to shooting the ball. Jimmy looked at him, then me, then him again.

"I gotta go, man," Jimmy finally said.

"Don't leave on her account. Let's keep going."

"Nah, I really gotta get home."

I waited until Jimmy was out of view before I started talking. Spinner kept bouncing the ball, occasionally shooting it into the basket.

"I deserve that," I finally said. He shot the ball one more time. It got in, but he just let it bounce away and looked at me. His shirt was slightly sweaty, his face was flushed.

"No," he said in a tone that was half sarcastic, half sincere. "No, Paige, you don't." He walked off towards he ball. I kicked off my heels and chased after him in barefoot.

"What does that mean?" I grabbed his arm and spun him around. "Spin, please. What does that mean?"

It looked like he was going to cry as well. "I can't give you what you need." He kept walking. Despite my feet protesting against the punishment the pavement was inflicting on them, I ran after him, and blocked the exit of the court.

"Paige."

"No. I'm not moving until you explain to me what you mean."

"Can you just let it go?"

"No! You said it yourself. You know me. So you know damn well that I'm not going to move until I get my way."

He watched me for a minute or two, emotions crossing his face. Anger, sadness, amusement, then finally him giving into me. "You can put your arms down. I'm not going anywhere."

I lowered them slightly, but didn't move out of his way. "You've been through a lot, Paige. And I like to think that I can help you. But I can't."

I didn't need help. I needed him. "Maybe it's like everyone says. Maybe I'm immature. Maybe because I'm a guy. I don't know. But I do know that whatever it is, I'm not the right person for you. Me and you both know it."

"No, I don't know that. Explain it to me."

"All I do is make things worse for you. I don't want to do that."

I tried to process everything he was saying. He thought he was making things worse for me? He was the only thing keeping me sane.

"There was one day, the day when I ran out of the house and you found me. Do you remember that?"

He nodded, but didn't speak. I continued.

"That night was the worst night I'd had in awhile. Just before I went to bed, I was about to cut again. But I didn't. Do you know why?" Our eyes were locked. I wanted to make sure that he understood what I was about to say. "Because I thought of you. Because after everything that's happened, you have been there for me, no questions asked, no strings attached. You have been the only constant thing and I don't want to loose you."

"Then be honest with me."

"What?"

"Okay, on Sunday, I was an idiot. I'm sorry. And maybe it's not fair, but I need to know why you didn't want me at the trial."

I still kept my gaze on him, but he looked away. "Believe it or not, I didn't figure it out until today. I honestly didn't know before.

"You know I was raped, but I've never told you the details of that night. And if you had come to the trial, you would have heard them. And I don't want you to. I don't want anyone to. And then there was everything Dean said about me being a slut. And I was afraid that you'd believe him. Now can you tell me something?"

"What?"

"Where did all that stuff about me cheating on you come from?"

"It's stupid."

"Tell me anyways."

"Kendra told me that she saw you out with an older guy. She said he was. . . hot. . . and that you were alone with him for dinner."

"Well, Kendra's right. I was about with an older guy, alone, for dinner last week." I let him get all worked up before I continued. "I went out for dinner with Dylan." I pursed my lips and tried- unsuccessfully- not to laugh.

"I'm sorry," he finally said.

I didn't answer, but moved out of the exit, and wrapped my arms around him. And instead of being repelled by the sweat that covered his shirt, I held him tighter.

"Can you just do one thing for me?" I asked.

"Anything."

"Can you go get my shoes?"