to goad him into a fight—the way he always does,” I said loudly, sending a quick glare Philip’s way. “I stopped Beau from going after him, but Philip was running backward, taunting Beau, and tripped and fell into the corner of the lockers. That’s why he needed stitches.”
“That’s outrageous,” Mrs. Rowe scoffed just as my dad and Mr. Rowe came in from the back door.
“What’s outrageous?” Dad asked, still holding the tray of meat they’d been grilling.
“Philip told his parents that Beau was the reason he needed stitches when Philip had been trying to get Beau to fight him and tripped into some lockers. I can give you a list of students that were in the hall at that time. I’m pretty sure a teacher even saw it happen!”
Mr. Rowe cleared his throat and looked to his youngest son. “Philip?”
When he didn’t respond, I turned on him. “I do not hide behind Beau Dixon. I can stand up for myself. I can defend myself. Out of respect for your family, I refrain from doing that most times. You are the one who hides behind Beau and what he has done, and you are even more disgusting for it.”
“Savannah,” my mom whispered, disapproving.
“No!” I cried out. “I’m always letting him get away with things because of his parents and what they mean to y’all, but I’ve had enough.” I took a step closer to Philip, loving and hating that he didn’t have the guts to look at me. “I am so tired of the way you get possessive over me even though I’ve never been and will never be yours because I cannot stand you. I am tired of the way you talk to me and touch me like the disgusting creep you are.”
“Wait, you touched her?” Peter asked, voice harsh.
“What are you talking about, Savannah?” Mom asked, concern now lining her words.
“Are you gonna tell them, or should I?” I asked Philip, voice soft enough that it felt like the words were only for him, but I knew everyone else could hear with how silent the room had gotten.
He glanced up at me from under his eyelashes, looking all kinds of pissed and promising a wrath that couldn’t scare me.
I turned, my stare finding Mrs. Rowe. “Your perfect son harasses me on a near-daily basis. He has since middle school.”
“That can’t be—”
“It’s true,” I ground out, cutting her off. “He talks about how we’re gonna be together. How I’m gonna be screaming his name one day.”
“Oh God,” my mom whispered as my dad slammed down the tray he’d been holding.
“All of this while grabbing me and refusing to let me leave. No matter what I tell him, he somehow twists it around so that it means I love him, or has some hidden, sexual meaning. And on that topic,” I said, biting out each word as I glanced over my shoulder to cut a hard look at him, “Philip called the school anonymously and told them that mine and Beau’s relationship is abusive. That he rapes me.”
“Well, does he?” Mrs. Rowe asked without missing a beat.
“Are you kidding?” I yelled, not caring in the least bit about respect at that point.
“Dana,” her husband said with an irritated sigh.
“I’ve been called into the guidance counselor’s office twice a week since then because she still doesn’t believe me,” I informed them. “And Beau has been called in there a few times to talk with her and the sheriff about how to respect and treat women. Philip also wrote words like abuser and dangerous and savage all over Beau’s locker with a big Sharpie on the same day that first began. But even when Beau found out it was him, he didn’t do anything to Philip.”
“That . . .” Mr. Rowe sighed, his head shaking. “That will be dealt with along with some other things. That doesn’t change that Beau has hurt our son and others in the past.”
“I’m aware of that,” I conceded. “Clearly not as many times as Philip is making y’all believe, and he’s probably not telling y’all why. Beau’s only ever reacting to what Philip does to me . . . what Philip does to him. That day Philip punched him and tripped into the lockers? That isn’t the first time Philip has done something like that. He’s always trying to get Beau to fight because he knows Beau is the one who will get in trouble. Then there are the days Beau walks up on Philip holding me