"You expect me to believe that a gay man was raped by another gay man?" She asked, one of her eyebrows cocked up defiantly.

"I never said my attacker was gay!" I snapped.

"Why would a straight man rape a gay man?" She questioned. Her voice was extremely condescending as she spoke.

"Look, his sexuality is besides the fucking point. He raped me!" I yelled.

"You watch your language with me!" She reprimanded. "Your pathetic claim that you were raped is like spitting in the face of all of us."

All eyes were on us and everyone seemed shell shocked.

Being homosexual was already a reason for people to discriminate against me and being black really didn't help the case. I was used to  dealing with racist, homophobic bigots but that was usually random people I didn't need to listen to me.

Being who I am meant not losing my cool in the face of blatant disrespect. I was always the person who had to keep a level head, rise above the situation because if I lost my cool I'd be labelled a loud, nigger faggot. Believe it or not those words strung together like that have been spat at me multiple times.

So I did what I normally did. I took a deep breath and composed myself.

"I was raped. By a man whose sexuality really doesn't matter at this point because rape is rape. This man violated me in the worst way possible, he forced himself on me and I didn't want it. I didn't consent it. Just because I have sex, consensual sex at that with men doesn't mean I wanted to have sex with this man." I said. "I can't believe someone who has gone through what I have can be this ignorant and judgemental."

She stared back at me with her mouth wide open at my word.

"I went to a frat party with a friend. We were drinking alcohol and dancing, like everyone else there. I saw this guy that I liked, because I was buzzed I flirted with him. My memory gets foggy about that and I woke up the next morning, in bed with this guy. I- I was naked and it was clear what had happened but I didn't consent to it. I don't remember giving him my consent, at all."

"Alright, I think things are getting a bit heated here." Ms Rochester intervined.

"No shit." I muttered under my breath.

Now she wants to speak up after she let that homophobe spew all that nonsense.

"I think it's time for a tea break. Let's all take five," she paused, looking at the green-haired dimwit  who was still seething in her chair. If this was a cartoon there would be steam coming from her ears and I was sending icy death glares, daring her to say one more thing. to me.

"Actually, make that ten." Ms Rochester added.

Some of the girls stood from their chairs and huddled up in groups while I stood and walked over to the table of refreshments.

I poured myself some camomile tea, I was never really a fan of coffee. I could never get over the bitter taste of it.

"Hey," a curly haired, lanky girl greeted. She was wearing a vintage AC/DC t-shirt and distressed blue jeans. Just from the look of her personal style, I liked her already.

"Hi." I said, stirring my tea mindlessly.

"Morgan can be a bitch sometimes, wish I could say you'll warm up to her with time but I'd be lying." She said, the corner of her lip curling into a shy smile.

"I just hate that a lot of people think the way she does. It's infuriating." I said.

"Yeah well, it's unfortunate-"

"Sorry to interrupt but I need to get out of here. I can't spend one more second breathing the same air as that. . ." I didn't even bother finishing my sentence before walking away.

For once in a long time I wanted to see Vimla. I couldn't give her the cold shoulder for long and before I knew it I was driving back to campus to see her. If there was anyone who could help me calm down and make me feel better right now it was her.

Twenty-one pilots blasted through my radio as I drove over to campus. It was their latest song Heathen from the Suicide Squad, Vimla and I haven't gotten around to watching it yet.

When it came out a bunch of people from my class invited me over for movie night to watch it but I declined. I never really hung out with people from my class, I alway felt self conscious around them.

Another curse of being a black homosexual from a middle class white family. I was constantly aware of how different I was. I didn't quite fit in with the guys because well. . . I was extremely feminine and they never wanted to hang out with me.

The girls were either too stuck up to hang out with me or they wanted a black gay bestfriend to act as an accessory. Vimla was different. We were both people of colour and she never once made me feel uncomfortable around her.

I pulled up in front of Vimla's dorm building and turned off my car. I was going to text her and tell her that I was coming up but I couldn't find it.

I unbuckled my seat belt and looked under the chair where my phone might have fallen and I found it. I sat back up and my phone slipped from my hands as I saw Vimla and David together.

They seemed to be talking intensely about something and then David walked off angrily.

I was frozen in my seat, unable to move or talk. My thoughts were going a thousand miles a minute and I couldn't stop the rage that was surging inside of me.

I watched as Vimla's eyes widened at the sight of me and she hastily walked up to my car door.
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author's  note

Vimla is about to catch these hands son.