The third guy who thought he had bagged her, he had also seemed hurt, or at least offended, when she turned him down. It was probably embarrassing that everyone at work was talking about it, emailing it to one another and to sister buildings. Probably to their friends away from work, too. She never meant for that to happen. The whole thing was still confusing and outrageous then, and she was unintentionally 'playing the game.' Trying different things to find out what would happen next.
Some of them thought I knew. Maybe. But then, I did know, only I didn't. I still thought they were kidding about the sex. Her first sound notion that the sex stuff was real came from connecting some dots: the stuff she read, the conversations - meant for her to hear - in the breakroom, and seeing the pictures and grafitti. But one event in particular brought her around to third looking to steal home.
One morning, a younger fellow, the nephew of one of her mentors, brought his uncle some lunch. Right before she entered the break room, Number 3 gave her the 'heads up.' The concerned look on her mentor's face, the conversations, everything hit her. This is not happening, she told herself. She steered clear of her co-workers for the rest of the day.
That evening, online, she emailed the ones she knew were directing this operation, and she posted a memo for everyone else to read. "Don't send me any boys." Even if this were real, and she was starting to believe it was - who knew why? - she did not want to do this. This whole experience was crazy. Back then, she thought her co-workers were crazy. Thinking back, she thinks that maybe they thought the same thing about her.
Most of them knew that I didn't know, because some of them worked very hard to teach me. Some of them had laughed and made fun of me for driving and walking all over the place trying to find 'my guy.' I don't blame them for that so much. When I found him, I didn't know how I was going to kick his ass, but I wanted to. And I knew it was more than one. That was kind of funny, ha! But the job part was definitely not funny. Neither was being made those offers when I didn't know why. And I don't even know all of the people that well.
They know so much about me, like how I run around my house naked sometimes. Wow. Some of them made fun of my stomach and my tits. Came up to me at work holding their stomachs, laughing and carrying on. At work. But I don't care about that anymore either. I guess it made them feel better about themselves. They had to know that once I knew my family and friends had seen me naked, knew all the stuff about me, that I didn't give a flip what the rest of the world thought. I even told them that. Duh.
Reckon they figured I'd make like an ostrich and stick my head in the sand. Well, I knew that my bod would still be hangin' out there, ha ha. Doesn't matter. I knew something was going to happen. Read their plans. They still thought I couldn't read. I thought my father could help me. I had so much evidence against them. I knew they didn't know about him. I had to make it down there.