Facts about Feminism | ✓

6

Guy | Girl

It was particularly warm today, the thermometer touching 30 degrees. The windows were sealed shut and the creaky old air conditioner in the detention room worked only half of the time. How Mr. Detention managed to sleep in these conditions was a mystery to them, but at least it was better than seeing his sour face frowning at them, silently cursing them to hell and back for being the reason he was stuck here.

Ever since the two had arrived, detention had turned into debate club. Right now, a hissed argument was happening between them. The stuffy air bringing out the worst in them and breaking their peaceful silent treatment.

"He shouldn't have gotten away with just three months. Three months? That's nothing when he could have easily ruined that girls whole life." The girl hissed. She was in a piss pour mood today due to the heat beating on her face and the executive decision to release Brock Turner early.

"The guy served three months in jail for fingering! Give him a break." He wasn't all that interested in the topic but the unbearable heat was making him riled.

"Not guy...he's a rapist. That's despicable." She spit out the words like the gum beneath her shoe.

"Whatever. This doesn't really concern me anyways."

Her head whipped back at him. "Of course this concerns you. What's your definition of consent?"

"Consent? Like for sex?"

"Is it a smile, drunk words, a moan, or a back rub?"

"I feel like this is a trick question." He knew that whatever answer he gave, she would find something wrong with it.

"It really isn't that hard. Consent seems to be clear in other cases, like a fancy signature at the bottom of a paper."

"Consent is not grinding, or a yes under the influence of alcohol or drugs. It's not a backrub or leaning into you. It's when the girl tells you to your face, completely sober and clear, that she wants to have sex with you."

"Anything else?"

"It's rape."