This Girl: A Novel

her head toward me. Her eyes search mine for guidance, so I nod, silently encouraging her to tell the truth. I could never let her lie for me. She turns back to Mr. Murphy. The exchange we just shared was no more than three seconds, but the look of concern for me in her eyes was undeniable.
    She doesn’t hate me. She’s worried for me.
    She clears her throat and adjusts herself in her seat. She places her hands on the table in front of her and begins picking at her nail polish when she speaks. “There was a misunderstanding between me and Javier,” she says. “Mr. Cooper showed up and pulled him off me.”
    I can feel the heat in my face when the lies start coming out of her mouth. Why is she lying for me? Did I not make it clear that I wanted her to tell the truth about last night? I tap my knee against hers when she pauses. She glances up at me, but before I can tell her to tell the truth, Mr. Murphy interrupts.
    “Can you start at the beginning, please, Ms. Cohen? We need to be clear on the entire sequence of events. Where were you and what were all of you doing there?”
    “We were in Detroit at a poetry slam. It’s part of a required assignment for Mr. Cooper’s class. I arrived early before the other students. Something happened and I felt uncomfortable and had to leave, so I left just a few minutes after I arrived, which is when I ran into Javier outside.”
    “What happened that made you uncomfortable?” Officer Venturelli asks her. She flicks her gaze in my direction, but only for a moment. She looks back at Officer Venturelli and shrugs. “Maybe uncomfortable isn’t the right word,” she says quietly. “One of the performers . . .” She pauses and takes a deep breath. Before she continues, she touches her knee to mine and doesn’t retract it, causing me to swallow a lump in my throat. The move is deliberate, and it confuses the hell out of me. “I was just really moved by one of the pieces performed last night. It meant a lot to me,” she whispers. “So much that I just wanted to leave, before I got too emotional.”
    I lean forward and put my elbows on the table, then rest my face in the palms of my hands. I can’t believe she just said those words, and she said them just for my benefit. Knowing that she’s trying to tell me how my poem made her feel is making this too much to bear. I have the overwhelming urge to pull her up out of her chair and kiss her in front of everyone, then scream my resignation at the top of my lungs.
    “My Jeep was parked behind the venue and on my way outside, I ran into Javier. He offered to walk me to my car. I needed to use his phone, so we were standing by his truck while it was charging. We were talking about the weather and . . .” her voice grows quiet and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
    “Ms. Cohen, is this something you would rather tell me in private?” Mr. Murphy asks.
    She shakes her head. “No, it’s fine,” she says. “I was . . . I was asking him about the weather and he just started kissing me. I told him no and tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t stop kissing me. I didn’t know what to do. He had me pinned against his truck, and I guess that’s when Mr. Cooper saw what was happening and he pulled him off me.”
    I have a grip on the edge of the table that is so tight, I don’t even notice until Lake taps my leg and glances down at my hands. I release the table from my grasp and close my eyes, breathing slow and steady. Her confession should give me nothing but relief, knowing that my bout of jealousy will now be played off as if I were protecting her. However, I’m anything but relieved. I’m furious. Javier is lucky his ass isn’t in here, because there would have been an extremely detailed reenactment of last night right in this office.
    Lake continues sharing her version of the story, but I don’t hear another word of it. I do my best to hold it together until everyone’s dismissed, but it’s the hardest five minutes I’ve ever had to contain myself. As soon as they dismiss her, Mr. Cruz and Officer Venturelli follow her out the door. I stand up in my seat and let out a breath. I pace back and forth under the intense gaze of Mr. Murphy. I’m not able to speak yet due to the rage coursing through me, so I continue to pace and he continues to silently watch me.
    “Mr. Cooper,” he says calmly, “do you have anything else to add or is her version accurate?”
    I pause and look at him. “I wish it wasn’t