Monday, January 16, 2006

How to deal with kooky chicks, part I

Saturday, December 11, 2005
Steve's house

It's time to do something decisive about Holly.

As I feared, blocking her only made things worse. I'm sure that what she has done constitutes stalking or harrassment of some type, but I don't want to press charges. I don't want her reporting me for statutory rape, but I also believe that filing charges would backfire anyway. If, for some reason, the charges didn't stick, she'd really come after me with guns blazing. Then, of course, her parents would be involved, and my family, and I'd have to tell the whole story 600 times over. And if I did, I wouldn't necessarily be looked at as the good guy.

I like talking to my brother Chris about personal issues. He's very level-headed and calm, and usually thinks of angles that I did not.

"You remember what happened with me and Holly last year?" I ask him on the phone.

"Holly who? Nancy's sister? The one you nailed in Dad's bathroom?"

"Yeah, that would be the one."

"What about her? She turning freaky on you?"

"How did you know?"

"What else could it be? You're in love with her? You wouldn't ask me about that."

"True. Listen, man, she's getting out of hand. I'm not sure what to do."

"Call the cops."

"She said if I call the cops she's gonna turn me in for statutory rape."

"How old was she?"


"So she was legal then!"

"The age is 17 in this state."

"No, it's sixteen."

"Chris. I think I know the sex laws better than you."

"You're wrong this time."

"I know I'm right, Chris, but I'll go to just to prove you wrong."

I log on to the web page and stare at the screen in disbelief. It's sixteen.

"Shit! Holy shit, you were right! How the hell did I mix that up?"

"I told you," Chris says. "I read it somewhere recently."

"She's got no case," I say in disbelief. "Of course, if I call the cops on her that could make it worse."

"Yeah, she could really freak out then," he says. "What's she doing, anyway?"

I read him the emails and tell him about the late-night, staring-through-my-sliding-glass-door incident.

"Holy fuck. This girl's out of control. What happened? Why now, after all this time?"

"No frigging clue."

"It sounds like she's fairly harmless. She's a kid; she'll get bored. Just stop paying attention to her, and maybe she'll give up."

"And if she doesn't?"

"Then I'll go talk to her."