Two weeks later, thanks to Nate's constant nagging about me reporting the rape, I find myself in the interrogation room of the local police station.

The officer in front of me sets something on the table.

"Mind if I record this?"

"No."

She presses a button on the device before she speaks.

"State your full name."

"Cecilia Logan."

"And you claim you were raped on the night of September 3rd?"

"Yes."

"Please tell me your side of the story."

I grab Nathaniel's hand under the table, squeezing.

Why did I even agree to this in the first place?

"I was helping run the concession stand for the basketball game. Our school likes to start basketball early in the year that way the team can play more rather than just a short amount of time."

I'm rambling already, a dead giveaway that I'm nervous. But who wouldn't be? Reliving the assault isn't something I imagined myself doing.

"Everything went great. The team even won! Then, I was invited to join them for a celebration. Just going to someone's house for pizza and wings. Little did I know, they had also invited multiple other people. The entire event turned into one huge party complete with blaring music and alcohol."

I sneak a peek at Nate's reaction. He's listening but I can tell he's seething.

"I was having a fun time. Until one of the players started hitting on me. The meaning of 'no' was something his parents clearly didn't drill into his mind. He dragged me to his bedroom since it was his house. My protests were ignored as he took me upstairs. Some of his teammates even cheered him on!"

This statement doesn't faze the officer one bit.

"Then, he raped me. Twice."

The last word was something I didn't even want to admit to myself.

"Can you give me any other details? Do you know what he looked like? His name?"

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"His name is Harrison Miles."