Hiding Places

by Shannon Heuston

  She used to share the details of her research with me. I loved picking her brain. It was one of the benefits of having a relationship with an older, more accomplished woman.

  Now I didn’t exist.

  And the more Ursula ignored me, the more attractive I found Will.

  I was being immature and selfish. Ursula was the director of a new program. What did I expect her to do, completely focus on me to the exclusion of her work?

  Yes. That is what I expected. I had grown up neglected with parents who were immature and selfish. I was tired of being an afterthought. I wanted to be a priority in someone’s life.

  Ursula wasn’t making our relationship a priority. That was a problem.

  I awoke before Ursula on Sunday morning and slid from the bed, padding across the floor to stand naked in the full length window, allowing the light of the rising sun to wash over me as I gazed out at the new day. I was only too aware of how I looked from behind. I was posing, my back arched, waiting forever for Ursula to awaken.

  I heard a gasp behind me.

  “You’re so beautiful,” Ursula said. “You look supernatural.”

  I walked over to the bed and slid a leg over Ursula’s slender waist, straddling her, leaning forward so my pink tipped boobs bounced just beyond the reach of her lips.

  Ursula reached up and gave them a proprietary squeeze, her thumbs flicking at my nipples.

  I spread my legs and slid a finger into my vagina, masturbating, putting on a show.

  Pay attention to me.

  I expected Ursula to give me a ride back to campus, but she locked herself in her office as soon as she got home. Nine o’clock came and went. She wasn’t going to offer. Had probably forgotten all about me. Damn, I was sick of being ignored.

  Bags packed, I stopped off in Helmut’s bedroom to anoint his forehead with a good night kiss. He was asleep, snoring lightly. As I straightened up to leave, his hand shot out and clamped around my arm. I recoiled, startled.

  His eyes were wide open and filled with terror. “Don’t leave me,” he begged. “Please don’t go.”

  I pulled away, trying to calm my thudding heart. He was just having a nightmare. I tucked the blanket around his shoulders. “Go back to sleep, Helmut. I’ll be back. I promise.”

  I stalked home in the dark, hoping I would get raped. That would teach her a lesson. Everyone knew young women shouldn’t be walking alone at night in a college town. Of course, Baylor was deserted at this time of year. All I heard was crickets.

  Still, I was relieved to see the lights of campus glowing in the distance. Almost home.

  I could feel the presence of people as soon as I entered the residence hall, like an inaudible hum. I sensed their disorganized, panicked thoughts. The dorm was alive with frenetic energy.

  The corridor was empty, all the doors shut tight. But as I walked down the hall, I could see shadows darkening the crack of light beneath each door. The candidates were peering out through the peepholes, having heard my footsteps. Knowing I was being watched felt creepy, although I couldn’t blame them. Those people must be on high alert. They were terrified. I wondered what they were thinking about me, carefree well fed American assured of my place in society.

  I was not in my room even ten minutes before a knock came at the door.

  I rolled my eyes. I didn’t feel like dealing with needy residents tonight. I rose on tiptoe to peer out my own peephole. A bare eyeball was peering back in at me. I jumped, then collapsed in laughter. I knew it was Will immediately. Only someone attuned to life on campus would pull that trick.

  I opened the door. He was standing there with an enormous grin on his face, so handsome and masculine in his white t-shirt, royal blue soccer shorts, and bare feet.

  “Missed you, princess,” he said with a smile that melted my heart. He walked past me into the room without being invited. “Now tell me what a nightmare this weekend was without me.”

  I returned to the extra bed, where I’d been folding laundry. “Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?” I teased.

  He collapsed into my desk chair, legs spread wide. “I missed you,” he admitted.

  I glanced at him. “You had Ariana,” I pointed out, hoping I didn’t sound jealous.

  He laughed. “She never stops yakking,” he said. “Anyone who screws her needs earplugs.”

  I gave him a wan smile. I didn’t like him talking that way. It wasn’t respectful. He doesn’t mean anything by it, he’s just joking.

  I learned forward, ostensibly to grab something across the bed, giving my sundress a tug so a pink tipped breast popped out. I just wanted someone to pay attention to me.

  I gasped, like it was an accident.

  His eyes fastened on my breast. “Wow,” he breathed. “You’re so beautiful.”

  I yanked my dress down, allowing the other breast to spring free. “You might as well see both,” I said, with a toss of my head. “Want a taste?”

  Will unfolded his length from his chair and approached, staring at my breasts with a naked lust that unsettled me. It was like he wanted to devour me. He brushed my hair back, the imprint of his fingers creating electric tingles along my neck and the tops of my breasts, then lower. He gently pinched each nipple, then lowered his head. His lips fastened on one while his fingers stroked the other, pausing occasionally to give it a pinch. Rather than hurting, it increased the feeling of heat in my groin until my legs were trembling.

  He raised his head and captured my lips, his tongue parting them. His hands were back on my breasts again, massaging them. They swelled to fill his hands. All rational thought departed. I was reduced to a panting, crazed animal, desperate for relief.

  I was overwhelmed with the sensations I was experiencing, his tongue in my mouth, hands rubbing my back one second and sliding back to my breasts, the damp heat in my panties.

  He pushed me down on my clean laundry, tearing his shirt off. His chest was firm and muscular. He shoved his shorts down and his penis, nestled in a cloud of auburn pubic hair, sprang out.

  I stared at its pulsating purple head, wondering what that would feel like inside of me, and my hand reached out to stroke it, curious. Will groaned. He yanked my dress over my head with fumbling hands and tossed it away. Then he was tearing off my panties. I was wearing awful white briefs, but he didn’t even notice as he flung them away. He parted my legs and plunged his face between them.

  The sensation of his tongue lashing my clit made me gasp and moan. I clamped his head between my thighs, plunging my hands into his hair. It was different than with Ursula. She lacked Will’s ravenous hunger.

  He plunged his tongue into me and I arched my back, my moans rising into a shriek. He covered my mouth with his hand, smirking. “Not so loud, we don’t want everyone to hear,” he scolded.

  Then he was tugging me towards him, pushing my legs further apart, like I was a turkey about to be stuffed. Suddenly he was inside of me, eyes closed, face aglow with ecstasy.

  I wiggled a bit beneath his weight, trying to get comfortable. He groaned, withdrew, then plunged forward again. I was struggling not to cry out in pain, but fortunately he couldn’t see my face, not with his eyes shut tight, lost in his own pleasure.

  Having intercourse was not the intense pleasurable experience depicted in the movies. At least, not for me. He was pumping me back and forth, but I didn’t feel anything. The discomfort I felt with every thrust made me want it to be over.

  His hips sped up, his face a rictus of pleasure. He was groaning and sweating as he pounded me. He let out a yell and then collapsed, beads of perspiration rolling off him, making his skin clammy. I pushed away a feeling of faint disgust.

  Will flipped onto his back, his hand drifting out to rest on the inside of my thigh, like a claim. We lay in silence.

  “Shit,” he said. “I’m spent. How about you?”

  “Good,” I said.

  He sat up. There were two dimples above the twin cheeks of his rump. Seeing him from an ang
le from which he’d never seen himself made me feel I had a secret.

  He glanced at his watch. “It’s almost eleven,” he sighed. “I’ve got a dilemma.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I want to stay all night, but I think we’re supposed to stay in our rooms in case one of the goddamn candidates needs us,” he said.

  “Oh,” I said. He wasn’t ditching me. His excuse was legitimate.

  Will stood up, fussily picked up his clothes, and began dressing. After pulling up his shorts, he glanced down at me, lying naked on the bed with my legs still spread. “You look absolutely ravishing,” he proclaimed. “I regret having to leave even more.”

  “I wouldn’t want to cause you regret,” I teased, hating myself.

  He kissed me on the forehead. “See you tomorrow, pretty girl,” he said, then left without a backwards glance.

  I got up and pulled my nightgown over my head, then climbed into bed. It was only then that I allowed myself to cry. Today was a disaster. Everything had gone wrong. I let Will fuck me, just so he’d pay attention to me. I felt dirty and used. I just wanted to wash the awful taste of this day away.

  Chapter Twenty

  Ursula

  I didn’t hear Maggie leave. I was completely absorbed by the action on my computer monitor, where my magnificent experiment was slowly unfolding.

  I leaned forward as Will led his charges up the stairs of the dining hall, then stood and watched at the top, as each candidate paraded past him. He gave each the stink eye, a warning. They all lowered their gaze submissively, except for Roman, who defiantly met his eyes. That in and of itself was fascinating. Was that because Roman was essentially an American, raised in the United States?

  During the year, the dining hall functioned like a food court, with many stations. There was a traditional meal line, with a daily changing special. There was a Mexican station, where you could make yourself a taco. At the Chinese food station, you could pick out the ingredients for a custom made stir fry. The Italian station served pasta and pizza. You could get a hamburger or a grilled cheese from the grill. With so much variety, it was no wonder the average Baylor student gained forty pounds during their tenure.

  As it was summer, the dining hall had been stripped to essentials. The only stations in operation were the grill line and the traditional meal line. Tonight, pasta with a choice of either meat sauce or alfredo with a roll was the special.

  Not understanding how everything worked, the candidates all lined up for their portion of pasta, while Roman alone headed for the grill line. Will followed on his heels, frowning.

  Lucinda and Ariana trailed in his wake. Lucinda looked as scared and uncertain as the candidates. She probably hadn’t even spoken a word yet. Ariana managed to look both bored and annoyed at the same time. Will was the only thing that appeared to interest her.

  Roman ordered a hamburger. Having followed, Will was stuck waiting for his order while the candidate strode to the fixings line, dressing his burger with cheese, tomato, and lettuce. Will leaned back to watch him, his body language conveying annoyance. He was clearly irritated by Roman’s self-assuredness.

  Two alpha males. Only one was in power. This promised to get interesting.

  The counselors sat together at one table, while the candidates sat at another. I made a mental note to correct that tomorrow.

  Ariana and Lucinda both had pasta. Lucinda hunched over her food, twirling her spaghetti, glancing nervously at the candidates. Ariana chattered away to Will, who seemed not to hear. He glared at the candidates.

  Dinner was uneventful other than the rumblings of future trouble.

  Once returning to the dorm, everyone scattered. I shifted my attention to my notes. An hour later, I looked at the screen just in time to see Maggie clattering down the hall, dragging her bag of clean laundry. My heart constricted. I should have given her a ride back to campus.

  I was so self-centered. I knew Maggie was anxious about the changes in our relationship, but I’d completely ignored her this weekend. I silently vowed to make it up to her as Will appeared.

  I frowned. He was on the female side of the hall. I’d identified Will as someone to keep my eye on, a perfect subject for the experiment. But now I was genuinely worried. Was he about to force his way into one of the rooms? If so, my experiment would be over. Please don’t, I begged the figure on screen, then breathed a sigh of relief as he tapped on Maggie’s door.

  I watched him lean forward and press his face against the door, a child’s prank, so that anyone looking out the peephole would see an eye looking back.

  Maggie opened the door, laughing. She ran a hand self-consciously through her curls as Will walked past her. Then she shut the door.

  I tried to return to my research, but I couldn’t concentrate. I kept glancing up to check if he’d left yet. The small digital clock at the bottom of my computer screen counted down the minutes. I had a horrible thought. What if he didn’t leave?

  The door opened again around eleven to deposit him back into the hallway. I bit my lip and peered closely at the screen. Was it just my imagination, or did he look disheveled? His lips looked puffy too.

  He had a shiteating grin on his face. As I watched, his lips pooched out as he startled whistling.

  I sat back in my chair, thinking. What was happening here? Did he fuck Maggie? No. Impossible. Come on now. We’re talking about Maggie!

  They were probably just gossiping about the candidates.

  It’s Maggie. Nothing could be going on, not really. I needed to get my mind out of the gutter.

  Not that Maggie owed me anything, not after the way I treated her this past week.

  I had a sleepless night.

  I got up early to have breakfast with the candidates. Helmut was grouchy and irritable, because I forced him to get up early too. I had to ensure he ate a decent breakfast.

  “If you had let my angel stay over, I could have slept until a decent hour,” he grumbled.

  “Papa, you’re already up half the night,” I retorted. It was true. Like many old men, Papa sometimes rose in the middle of the night to wander around the house.

  “We lost our angel,” he informed me.

  “She’ll be here this afternoon,” I snapped.

  Will was already driving the candidates up the stairs to the dining hall when I arrived. He just needed a whip to complete the image of an overseer. Maggie drifted behind, looking wan and tired, not her usual bubbly self. She avoided my eyes.

  Strange. I studied her, remembering my suspicions.

  Will looked smug.

  That decided me. I actively disliked him. Not that it mattered. Our relationship was purely business. I didn’t have to like my employees.

  Bacon and eggs were nestled in the steam tables. Canisters of cereal were set up on a nearby table. It was a good spread. Nothing like a concentration camp. I watched through narrowed eyes as the Abdalla family bypassed the traditional line and unsmilingly took bowls from the stack on the sideboard.

  Roman, Maria, and Eduardo happily lined up for bacon and eggs.

  I had eaten with Helmut, so I was already seated at one of the long trestle tables in the dining room when Lucinda entered. When she made for a smaller table, a bowl of Special K on her tray, I waved her over.

  “I want the candidates and counselors to eat together,” I said. “These six weeks are to be a complete immersion. Mealtimes are important opportunities for instruction.”

  Will grabbed the seat directly across from me, his tray laden. “What are we doing this morning?” he asked.

  I passed out schedules. “Mornings are for lessons in American culture,” I said. “Such as learning the Pledge of Allegiance, the Star Spangled Banner, that sort of thing. I selected some videos that depict our traditions to show. I scheduled an hour of exercise before lunch. Bring them over to the gym, teach them basketball, kickball, baseball, whatever. All you counselors will have the afternoons off, since the candidates will be receiving English
instruction.”

  Further down the table, Roman lifted his head. “I speak perfect English,” he informed me. “I don’t need any instruction.”

  Will stood up. “What did you just say, chief?” he asked.

  I flashed a smile at Roman. “Sorry, everyone has to go.”

  Roman turned his attention back to his plate, refusing to meet Will’s eyes, his body language conveying irritation.

  After breakfast, I caught up with Maggie at the bottom of the stairs. “You didn’t say good-bye last night,” I chided.

  Maggie tugged nervously at her ponytail. “You were working,” she mumbled.

  I resisted the urge to lay my hand on her arm, touch her. “You could have knocked,” I said. “Are you coming this afternoon? Papa keeps asking for you.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes. “Not today, okay?” she said. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I need a nap. Sorry.”

  An awkward pause ensued. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Maggie shambled off after the departing line of candidates, her head down. I stared after her.

  Something was wrong.

  There was a long-abandoned recreation room in the basement of the residence hall. It was a time capsule transporting you back to the days before there was a television, computer, and phone in every room.

  Once a popular gathering spot, now it was shabby and deserted, locked except for the rare occasions students requested the key to use the kitchenette. It boasted a huge console television, threadbare maroon couches that released clouds of dust when the candidates sat down, an air hockey and pool table, board games stacked on a shelf, and the ghostly outline of a telephone booth that had been ripped out of the wall years ago. The walls were decorated with crudely painted cartoon characters.

  The space seemed to echo with the laughter of vanished college students painting the walls and watching television, just hanging out until times changed.