Ms. Reacher's Office.

Now that you've had a chance to calm down, and once Ms. Reacher locks her office door, just to be safe, you tell her your tale. You leave nothing not, not even sneaking out of your house to go drinking. She doesn't seem to judge you or even seem surprised. You describe the parts of your night you've been able to piece together and the odd feeling of dread you had upon seeing that crazy guy in the hall and how utterly lost you are in all this. She listens in silence the whole time and you can't help but wonder if she doesn't believe you, despite the hard evidence she's already experienced.

"Okay," Ms. Reacher says after you're done talking. "We need more information. Who else from our school was at that party?"

You hesitate. Telling a teacher someone was at a house party would be breaking a serious unwritten rule. You'd basically be ratting people out for underaged drinking along with whatever else went on that night.

"It's okay," she assures you. "I'm not looking to get anyone into trouble. What you kids do outside of school hours isn't my concern. And Rebecca, this is way more important than any of that anyways. Whatever happened to you, whoever that guy was, we have to figure this stuff out before someone gets hurt."

Suddenly you feel rather childish for trying to protect a bunch of high school kids from getting into trouble. That guy could be a threat even to the other students. This was more serious than party etiquette. You list off as many names as you can remember, leaving out Ruth and Veronica since you've already spoken to them. Ms. Reacher has an announcement made asking them all to come to her office immediately. In total, five boys and three girls are brought in from various classes. You're sure there were plenty more kids from your school there but these are the only ones you know by name. They all look confused and frightened by what might come next.

"It has come to my attention," says Ms. Reacher, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. "That all of you attended a college party last night."

The other kids all shoot daggers at you while you stand next to your teacher. She holds out her arm as if to block a physical blow.

"I don't care that you were drinking," she explains. "Rebecca and I were attacked, on school grounds, by a boy neither of us can identify. We have reason to believe he was at the party and may have chosen to target Rebecca specifically for some reason. Rebecca does not remember anything that happened after leaving her house and so we need you all to fill in the blanks. None of you will be in trouble for anything you say here and I will not tell your parents, nor anyone else, that you were drinking."

You silently applaud Ms. Reacher for her insight. Now that the others know about the attack, in the very school they all go to no less, and with reassurances that they won't be held accountable for last night, they all relax and even give you sympathetic glances. And now they'll discuss what you were doing last night without wondering why it's so important, despite no one knowing about the other reason you're asking these questions. You hadn't had time to even consider that the crazy guy might have been at the party but thinking on it now it makes sense. You give a description of the man who assaulted you and one by one the others tell their tales. They admit to drinking, a few of them mention smoking weed, and one girl, for some reason, thinks it's necessary to admit that her and her boyfriend had "wild, freaky sex" after you made out with her. None of them claim to have seen your attacker. But they do add a few more tales of your shenanigans at the party. Apparently you grinded your ass into many a crotch on the dancefloor, deep throated a banana like a champ, threw up before going right back to drinking (twice), and, according to one girl, "offered to put a baby in me." Thankfully, she doesn't seem to realize just how possible that might have been at the time and took it as a joke. Unfortunately, none of this helps you at all. It seems that all of them left the party before you did. All but one boy, Brian, a nerdy kid you barely know who, never the less, asked you out in the middle of a crowded hallway. Put on the spot, you didn't handle it with amazing tact and have always been too embarrassed to apologize. He seems hesitant to say anything at all and acts very belligerently at being asked questions at all.

"Everybody else already told you, you slutted out. Can I go now?"

"No, you may not go, you little shit!" barks Ms. Reacher, making everyone jump. "This is a serious situation! I may not be telling your parents about your drinking but I can still make your life hell if you don't man the fuck up and help us catch a would be ****!"

Properly cowed he stammers, "Alright! Alright! Look, I...I saw you leaving. You were really, really drunk and I...wanted to make sure you got home okay."

'Oh yeah, I totally believe that...' You roll your eyes.

"You started going into the woods but then you sort of froze up for like a full minute. I called out to you but you didn't say anything. Then you just started running down the street. That's the only thing I saw they didn't, I swear!"

Ms. Reacher presses for more information from all of them but if they have it they don't cough it up. She lets them leave and turns towards you.

"Anything ringing a bell?"

You shake your head, "Not even a little. There is one thing that's weird though."

"You staring into the woods?"

"Yea. I took a path through them to get there but my friends earlier told me I got there later than I should have. Then Brian says I avoided the woods and took streets home? That's, like, three times the distance. It doesn't make sense."

"Unless something happened in the woods and you wanted to avoid it happening again."

You nod and muse, "But why was I naked when I woke up this morning? And not hungover for that matter?"

"Naked, you say?" asks Ms. Reacher, her eyebrow raised. "Do tell."

You shove her playfully, "Not now, you pervert! I finally have a lead."

She nods grimly and says, "I'm coming with you. We don't want to involve anything official, no police, until we can be sure it's safe for you to tell people about this. So I'll meet you at your house after school today and we'll both go check them out in the daylight."

"Thanks," you sigh. "I did not want to go in alone. Or end up a lab rat somewhere. Or let the cops know I was drinking."

She laughs and sends you off to class in your borrowed gym clothes. The rest of the day mostly involves you looking over your shoulder for your attacker until finally driving home.