Fragile

Chapter 22

The scariest thing I learned was that evil didn't have a face. There was no singular profile that identified an evil human being. Thus, it felt nearly impossible to be safe around anyone. How could one tell who was kind and who intended harm? Which students here were traffickers, and who were just students? Was the faculty unaware of the mercenaries, or were they negligent? 

I let my eyes wander around the gym to see other volunteers preparing for the social, mainly lacrosse boys. Just observing them, none of the guys seemed hostile. Aggressive, sure, but in a playful manner towards each other. They were never short of playful shoves and jokes, even when working. Maybe one or two at the most looked like potential traffickers, but the rest? They just looked like overgrown boys. 

Kiera once told me, "Everyone always thinks the victims should know better, that a rapist is easy to distinguish in a crowd. What were you wearing? Did you lead them on? It was your fault for drinking so much. What they don't realize is that evil doesn't have a face."

Looking at the lacrosse boys horse around as they carried boxes, I couldn't help but feel a weight in my stomach. If Noah hadn't been at the party that night, would people have said the same things about me? Was I just a stupid victim because I couldn't tell that these athletes were actually traffickers? Why did they blame me and not them? I wondered if that logic would ever make sense to me. How was it a victim's fault for being a victim? 

"Fay!" 

I jumped at the sound, nearly dropping my box of supplies in the process. Seth beamed at me, waving as he bounded over. 

Seth was an individual that conflicted me the most. For someone who was supposedly a mercenary, he looked utterly harmless. He always wore oversized sweaters and lightwash jeans, aside from his uniform. He even wore rash guard under his jersey because his skin was sensitive. I had never seen the man scowl or look angry in his life. He was insanely attractive, and rocked the innocent, boy-next-door look. No matter how many times Noah reminded me of what he was, I just couldn't seem to make the connection. 

"Here, I got it," Seth said. He gently took the box from my hands. "Where to?" 

"Oh, u-uh the main hall," I stammered. Was he really just that good at acting, or had Noah gotten it wrong? 

He set the box on one of the main tables before giving me a guilty look. "I never thanked you for covering for me the other night. I really appreciate the help with the guest list." he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Seems I overwhelmed myself a bit this semester." 

It was so hard not to feel comfortable around him. "It's okay," I insisted, a smile forming on my face as well. I had to snap myself out of it. I already had girls scouting the gym for me thinking we were dating, I couldn't make it worse by being extra friendly. Plus, I had a mission. 

"Fay?" Seth gave me an innocent, doe like stare. "Is everything okay? Did I ask too much?" 

"No, No," I said. "It's not that..." 

"You can tell me, if you want. I'll try my best to help," he said. Why was he so gentle? 

Even so, now was my chance. "Well..." I bit my lip anxiously. "because I helped you the other night, there have been some rumors..." 

"Rumors?" 

Was he actually oblivious or faking it? I swallowed. "A lot of people think you and I are... dating," I confessed, feeling my cheeks get hot. 

His mouth formed an 'o' in response. "does that make you uncomfortable?" 

"It's not that, I just..." I trailed off. What was I supposed to say? Why was he so difficult to hate? "I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea. You know, it wouldn't be fair to you."