I hate that we’re not safe. I hate that even when we’re fine, when nothing happens, it never feels safe, because it isn’t. I hate that we have to pay attention to every man around us, that we can’t always trust our drinks, that you couldn’t go outside for a couple of minutes without being attacked. I hate that we spend half our nights trying to protect other girls from how we were all raised.” “And how’s that?” “Polite.” She spits out the word like a curse. “You do it too; we’re all taught to do it. Be polite, even when you want to run as far away as you can. Try to deflect the attention while
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