The desks of our secondary school science classrooms are arranged in rows reasonably close to each other. Two people could walk side by side between them, but it would be a tight fit. Instead people usually edged past sideways.
I was trying to get to the sink to rinse a plastic beaker, and I had to get past this boy who was leaning over one of the tables. As I was trying to discreetly edge past, he intentionally thrust his rear into my groin. I was completely taken aback. He and his friends (several of whom were girls) were laughing. In my anger I kicked him in the shin, and they just laughed more. I then excused myself from science and cried in the toilets. I didn’t report it because I couldn’t believe it, and tried to convince myself that I had overreacted to a joke. This was in year nine, when we were both thirteen.
It’s been a year and I still see this boy around, but I try to avoid him as much as possible. He constantly says demeaning and downright disgusting things about girls, and I don’t want to be around to hear that.