“I’ve got a date tonight,” read the incoming text from my best friend, Cassie.
“Okay,” I said. “Good luck, be safe!”
“He’s being a little weird, but I am fucking horny so I’ll ping you my location.”
“Sounds good,” I said.
A few hours later, my phone rang. It was Cassie and she was laughing and crying. Evidently, her date did not go well and she was sitting outside of his apartment building. I told her to hold tight, I’d come and get her. In the car, we sat in silence for a while. I wasn’t sure how to ask the question that I needed to ask.
“He didn’t, you know, rape me,” she finally volunteered. “I just felt pressured.”
“Well … tell me what happened.”