“We know he took your virginity when you were fifteen,” Galen says, louder than necessary. “And that you’ve been whoring yourself out ever since.” A few catcalls and giggles ring out from the jocks and cheerleaders table, but I ignore them. “Guilty as charged,” I admit. “Although I call it taking control of my sexuality. It’s the twenty-first century, Galen. Women have the same right to enjoy consensual sex as men. Your comment just confirms your ignorance and lack of intelligence.”
I want her to nap his neck.
