I was 18 years old, living in a small suburb outside of Birmingham, Alabama where the population was split between the haves and the have nots. I thought I was one of the haves, because we had so much...pool, boat, lake house, motor home, new cars, but later came to know that I was indeed one of the 'have nots'.
We were very religious. At least my mom and all of us kids were. Dad had nothing to do with the church. We were at church every Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday night and youth activities on weekends. I was highly motivated to share my faith and would not date someone who drank or smoked.
I had two long term boyfriends in high school. We did a lot of making out and heavy petting, but never 'went all the way'. I was somewhat of a flirt and tease and loved the attention of boys. When I wasn't in a relationship...I was on the hunt for one. I did not feel complete without a boy.
I think the day I realized I was a have not, was the day that kids were being called out of class to take the SAT's. I didn't even know what they were until much later in life. I noticed these kids were the 'haves' who called themselves the 'groupies'. They were the cool kids who spent spring break snow skiing or on a cruise. Their parents showed up to watch them cheer and play sports. They served on the PTA and did service projects at the school. They clearly lived a different life from me.
Even though I was in the National Honor Society and was an A/B student, I was not chosen to take the SAT's. I wasn't filling out college applications and choosing Auburn or Alabama. Because I had no real guidance, I had only taken one math...Algebra, and one science...Biology. Neither was I very good at so I filled my schedule with lots of band and music and home economics, yearbook staff and typing.
One day, I was summoned to the principal's office. I was afraid that I had finally pushed the dress code too far with my attention seeking outfits. I loved Dr. Balew our principal. I was drum major and full of energy and passion. He saw that and took note of me...told me often that I was "OUTSTANDING" (his favorite word). I had a good (healthy, normal) relationship with him. When I got to his office, he asked me what I was going to do after graduation. I probably said something about working at my dad's Bobcat dealership, going to a small community college to study fashion or something along those lines, The truth was, that while all of the other kids were getting college acceptance letters, I had no idea what I was doing and had not filled out the first application. I had an ASFAB test that told me my strengths and what careers I would be good at, but I didn't have the first idea how to make any of that happen.
He asked if I would go to college if I had the opportunity. I said sure...in the same way that you would respond if someone asked if you wanted to go get ice cream. I had no idea what it entailed. He told me that there was a full scholarship to the University of Montevallo, a small liberal arts college 45 minutes away from home, given by the Kiwanis Club and he was going to give it to me. I was so excited...not because I was going to college, but because it was a ticket out of my home.
I don't remember the exact response from my mom, but I feel like she just asked me a lot of questions that I had no answers to. The feeling is that of skepticism or doubt that I could handle this. And...at the same time, a tinge of relief that I would be off of her hands.
The following weeks and months were full of requesting brochures and information about the college. I poured over the ones about Greek life. I had heard of sororities...again...that information seemed to be held tightly by the 'haves'. I wrote letters wanting to know more. Information came out about orientation where I would go and spend a weekend at the college learning about what to expect. My parents were absent. I drove myself there, checked myself in and started the process of scheduling classes. I might as well have been attending a school in Russia, because I didn't understand most of what I was being told and being too embarrassed to ask questions, I faked it.
The president of the SGA singled me out at one of the sessions and started a conversation. He told me his little brother was going to be a freshman and he had already been living on campus and taking summer classes. He asked if his brother could take me to the mixer party that night. Being so stunned that I was seen and chosen...of course I said yes.
I don't remember the boy's name, only that we went waking though the tiny town of Montevallo after the party, and on the way home he wanted to stop by a duplex apartment to see a friend. He told me to wait on the sidewalk while he ran up really quick. I heard loud voices and then shouting and then a fight broke out. Evidently, my date had been involved with a girl who had dumped him, and she was there with another guy when my date walked in. I was terrified and took off fearing that the police might be called. It was dark and I had no idea where I was. I walked in the direction of campus and was relieved to see the dorm that I was staying in. I have never felt so alone in my life...and that's saying a lot.
Weeks later, it was time to move in. I received my roommate assignment with two other girls. One was a junior and the other a freshman who had taken a gap year. Neither of them interested in sororities or rush which I was convinced would gain me access to the 'haves'. I moved myself to campus taking two or three trips to get everything there. I had gone shopping for my own bedding and dorm needs with my graduation money. I took countless trips up the six flights of stairs to carry everything in, while parents scurried around, dads carrying the heavy boxes and moms decorating dorm rooms. There were tearful goodbyes and hugs and I pretended that it didn't bother me. I was numb to the loneliness.
I don't remember how many days into the semester it was or how it happened, but an upper classman baseball player took notice of me. I think he asked me to a party at the school lake house. I remember nothing about it. I remember walking the cobblestone streets toward the new dorms that housed the male sports players. He asked me if I wanted to see the dorm and I was so excited to be invited, I said yes. We walked down the hall reeking of testosterone and sweat. Half-naked boys went in and out of doors down the hall and lots of deep laughter and roughhousing ensued. We stopped at the door on the right-hand side and opened it. I think his roommate was there and he introduced me. He left shortly after, and we sat down on his bed and chatted. I was on his right side, closest to the head of the bed. He leaned in to kiss me and I was surprised and delighted that I had so quickly won the affection of an upper classman baseball player. The kissing quickly became more intense and before I knew it, I was half laying on the bed with my feet still on the floor and he almost on top of me. His hands quickly found my body...the top button on my white painter's pants. I tried to occupy his left hand with my right hand to indicate that I wasn't ready for that...afraid that I would be seen as a prudish child. He would not relent, his tongue in my mouth and stifling my attempt to say something. His right side was laying on my left arm and I tried to free it from underneath him but couldn't. He managed to unzip my zipper and fondle me. Embarrassed to admit there was pleasure in that all too familiar arousal, I don't remember what happened next. I know there was penetration with his fingers. I don't remember if there was more. I am focused on his roommate's bed and the window over it waiting for it to be over. I am mixed with shame...that I was so naive and trusting as well as shame at not being mature enough and free enough to go with it and participate willingly. Why did I have to be such a prude!
The next thing I remember was walking up the grassy hill from his dorm across campus to my dorm by myself...cold and scared and shamed. I am frightened at every shadow and sound. I get back to the dorm room, the lights are off, and my roommates are asleep. I crawl into bed and curl up into a ball willing myself to forget what just happened, blinking back hot tears and holding my breath so as not to cry and wake my roommates.
Sometime later...maybe the next day...maybe days later, maybe weeks later, I am entering the cafeteria, in line waiting to have my meal ticket stamped, and I see him...and he sees me. He is with his teammates. He has his lunch tray filled with food in his hands. He looks at me, pauses and with a quick turn of his head, sits down at the table with the boys. No acknowledgement of me, no smile, no nod of the head. Just a blank look as if he just saw someone, he thought he knew but then realized it wasn't them.
I never told a single soul.
