wonder if any of these boys ever sit in a room for boys’ talk night and discuss how to treat women. Who teaches them how to call out to a girl when she’s walking by, minding her own business? Who teaches them that girls are parts—butts, breasts, legs—not whole beings? I was going to eat at Dairy Queen, but I don’t want to sit through the discussion of if I’m a five or not. I eat a few fries before I walk out. “Hey, hold up. My boy wants to talk to you,” Green Hat says. He follows me, yelling into the dark night. I keep walking. Don’t look back. “Aw, so it’s like that? Forget you then. Don’t
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