Nondescript

by Rose, Ashley

  She downed all of her pills for that morning with one gulp of water: anti-psychotics, anti-anxiety, mood suppressants and something to control her seizures.

  As a child, she had constantly been plagued with seizures because of a head trauma she’d sustained, which had caused an array of neurological imbalances and physiological disorders. She’d learned to control her seizures over the years, though they never truly went away. According to her doctor, perpetual abnormal electric impulses disturbed and confused the neurons in her brain.

  She could function normally as long as she didn’t get worked up too much. Any strong emotion—fear, excitement, anxiety or even surprise—could push those electrical impulses into overdrive and send her into convulsions.

  Her kind of seizures didn’t affect only her muscles but also her thoughts. While seizing, she became overly emotional and switched back and forth between the emotions that popped into her head. Usually it was fear, anger or sadness. She’d broken bones when no one was around to keep her from cracking her limbs on things. With the help of a therapist, she had learned to recognize when powerful emotions were coming on and had learned some breathing techniques that forced her heart rate to slow.

  All in all, she was doing well. Unfortunately, one of the side effects of one of her drugs was migraines. There was no way to avoid it. The migraines were pretty easy to anticipate though. They always came about half an hour or less after she’d taken the medications. She usually took the meds and then took a shower.

  She undressed and turned the hot water on. The shower would help. With some deep breathing, the steam and relaxing thoughts, the migraine passed within a few minutes.

  If only the rest of her issues were this easy to solve.

  2

  Lorna

  Lorna slipped into the physical education complex and headed toward the dance studios. She itched to dance. It had been a long day, and she just wanted to dance off the stress. The first studio was occupied and she meant to walk right by, but the doors were open and she couldn’t help but glance in. A small group performed a choreographed number. A blond guy led, teaching the rest of them the moves.

  Lorna was immediately drawn into the dance. They went through the eight-counts at half speed and learned the moves quickly. At the end of the set, the blond guy glanced over at the other guy, who she suddenly realized was Shep. He joined the blond at the front to go through the next set of moves. After a few demonstrations, Shep moved through the dancers and made minor corrections. She wondered if he had choreographed all of the awesome moves.

  It was an interesting dance, a mix of almost every style, yet still cohesive. She intended to leave but then she spotted the girl near the front, on the pole. Even though she was pole dancing, she danced with the rest, the moves tailored to be used on the pole. The girl wasn’t any good though. She had good dance technique but obviously didn’t have a lot of experience with pole dancing.

  They went through the dance, full-speed, but stopped partway through.

  The blond guy went to the girl on the pole. “It’s not right,” he said firmly, though his tone was constructive, not rude.

  Shep joined them.

  “I’m sorry, Nash. I’m trying,” she said.

  “You’re not pole dancing, you’re just...dancing with the pole,” the blond told her.

  “I haven’t had a lot of practice. It’ll be better,” she assured him.

  “The pole dancing is supposed to be the shock factor, Gabby. I need you to be ready now.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair, as though stressed.

  She nodded. “I’ll try, Nash.”

  Lorna leaned in when the dance started again, so she could see Gabby better.

  “Lorna!”

  She jerked in surprise.

  Shep jogged over to her. “Hey!”

  Everyone was looking at her now, and she desperately wanted to disappear.

  “How are you?” Shep smiled at her and in the background, Nash snapped at everyone to pay attention.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Lorna said.

  He shrugged. “I’m just the choreographer, not important. Are you here to dance?”

  “Er...yes, here in the building, not here in this room.”

  “I saw you watching Gabby,” he said, nodding toward the girl. “Nash couldn’t find a girl who wasn’t a whore who could dance on a pole.”

  She was too busy watching the girl circle the pole awkwardly to reply.

  “You interested?”

  She blinked at him. “What?”

  “If you’re any good, I’m sure Nash wouldn’t mind giving you an audition. This is for a big recital of his.”

  “Oh, no, sorry.” She stepped back. “I’m not that good either. I just do it for fun. I should go.”

  He opened his mouth to say something but Lorna backed out of the doorway and hurried down the hall.

  “Bye!” Shep called after her.

  She made her way through the dim hallway to the room with multiple poles and found it available. After plugging in her boombox, she slipped out her of clothes, leaving her dressed in bikini bottoms and a long cami that she pulled down over her ass cheeks. She had run out of booty shorts, so she really needed to do some laundry. She couldn’t pole dance in anything that covered her arms or legs. She needed to use her skin to grip the pole.

  She flipped through her CD case quickly and put in the faster tempo sensual music. She cranked the volume up louder than normal to drown out her thoughts. The CD was a little less than an hour long and she danced through the whole thing.

  She used dancing to escape her less-than-satisfactory college experience. She forgot about the stupid professor who was doing his best to fail her, her slut of a roommate who made her feel like a prude and the mountains of homework waiting for her back at the room.

  She hoisted herself up onto the pole and swung upside down, using one leg to support herself, and bent the other backwards in a graceful line.

  After holding the position for an eight-count, she swung upright again and continued the movements against the pole.

  She practiced several other off-ground acrobatics, sometimes using only her hands to hold herself off of the ground, sometimes only her legs. Her muscles flexed as she held her legs apart in a rigid upside-down pose.

  By the time the last song faded, her heart was racing and her muscles were exhausted.

  She closed her eyes and leaned against the pole for a moment, then jumped when someone started clapping from across the room. Whipping around, she saw the blond guy, Nash, making his way toward her, still clapping.

  How long had he been standing there? How did he even get in? She was sure that the door had been locked.

  “You’re good,” he said when he reached her.

  She suddenly remembered she was mostly naked and tugged the thin material down. “How did you get in here?”

  He ignored the question. “You know all these rooms have built-in sound systems?” He eyed her little CD player dubiously.

  “How did you get in here?” she demanded again, trying to keep her voice strong.

  He jingled keys at her. “I work here during the day. I have a master key.”

  “You can’t—I had the door locked for a reason.”

  He shrugged. “Look, you’re good. You’re amazing on that thing, actually.”

  She grabbed her sweats and hurriedly pulled them on.

  “Honestly, it’s not anything I haven’t seen before.”

  She didn’t answer, just started putting her stuff away.

  “Look, Lorna, right?”

  She looked at him angrily. “How do you know my name?”

  “Shep told me,” he said, waving his hand as if it didn’t matter. “Anyway, I could really use you on my pole. And no, that wasn’t a metaphor.”

  She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the door.

  He jumped in her path, causing her to step back. “Come on, at least consider it. You’re really
good. Those skills deserve to be showcased.”

  “You can’t just spy on someone, and then try to get them to do something for you.” She tried to circle around him but he put his body in her path again. He obviously didn’t have a problem with entering her bubble but she didn’t do touching. She jerked away from the light contact and tried not to squeak in alarm.

  “Just talk to me for a second,” he said, holding his arms out innocently.

  She didn’t seem to have a choice, so she waited.

  “Why wouldn’t you want to showcase your skills in a dance recital? It’s kind of a big deal, and I’m sure you’d get credits toward your major for it.”

  “I’m a psych major,” she muttered.

  His eyes widened. “But you’re amazing. Are you sure you’re not a dance major?”

  She didn’t respond. She just wanted out of there.

  “Okay...but still. All dancers like to perform. Why wouldn’t you want to do it? The pole dancer is a centerpiece of my dance. You’d get tons of recognition and stuff.”

  “I don’t want recognition.”

  He paused. “Now you’re just lying.”

  Frustration filled her. No one had ever seen her dance, and this asshole had spied on her. “I have never danced in public. No one’s ever seen me dance before and you ruined it.”

  He took a step back at her harsh tone. “That can’t be right.”

  “The door was locked for a reason!”

  “I didn’t mean to…crap. Sorry.”

  She shook her head, not sure what to say.

  “How did you get so good if you’ve never gone to a class or anything?”

  “I want to leave.”

  “Okay. Okay.” He fished something out of his pocket and held it out to her. “Here’s my number. Just think about it, okay?”

  She took the slip of paper just to make the conversation end as quick as possible.

  He looked at her hopefully.

  “I’m leaving now,” she stated firmly.

  He let her circle around him this time, and she hurried out of the studio and out of the building. She crumpled up the paper and shoved it into her pocket. During times like this, she wished she had a backbone. If she did, she would march right back there and give him a piece of her mind. She was pissed because something that was supposed to be hers, supposed to be private, wasn’t anymore. How was she ever supposed to go back there and have confidence that someone couldn’t just sneak in the door at any time? She had counted on that privacy, relied on it, and now it was gone.

  When she got home, she went right to bed, only to be plagued with nightmares about people thinking she was a freak, pointing and laughing at her. Her eyes popped open and she shot up in bed. It had been a dream. Just a dream. She looked around. There were no people, no faces, no voices. As she slipped out of her bed on shaky legs, she wondered about the relevance of the dream.

  Did people really think she was freak? A loner. A weirdo? It wasn’t true. She had friends.

  Okay, maybe not, but that was just because she didn’t want any. She liked being by herself. And she talked...if she had to.

  She wasn’t a freak. And she did do things. She was a dancer.

  But nobody knew that. And it didn’t count if no one ever saw you dance.

  “Couldn’t sleep?”

  Lorna jumped, realizing she’d wandered into the kitchen. Lily looked at her oddly. The girl was standing in front of the fridge, holding a bottle of milk.

  “Er, yeah.”

  “Want some milk?”

  “No, thanks.” She grabbed a glass and poured herself some water before walking back toward her room.

  “I hope you sleep better,” Lily said quietly from behind her.

  “Yeah. You too.” But Lorna was on autopilot as she shut the door to her room.

  She was a good dancer, so was she just a coward? She’d been offered a great opportunity, and she’d been too busy freaking out because Nash was so hot to realize she should have said yes.

  She still had a chance. She flipped her light on and scrambled around in her laundry for the slip of paper Nash had given her. She found it and unfolded it carefully before picking up her phone and dialing the number. She had to do it now before she lost her nerve.

  Nash didn’t answer for several rings.

  “Hello?”He sounded groggy.

  “Hi, it’s Lorna.”

  “Who? What time is it?”

  “Oh...” She looked at her clock. “Around...four-thirty. Sorry, I didn’t realize it was this late...er...early. Um, but I changed my mind.”

  “Wait...Lorna...the dancing girl?”

  “Yeah. I want to do it.”

  “I...okay...hold on a sec.”

  She heard some shuffling through the phone, and then Nash told someone it was okay and to go back to sleep, probably a girlfriend.

  “Okay, I’m here.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the time, and I just wanted to call you right away.”

  “So you’re going to do it?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I think so.”

  “I need a definite answer, Lorna. I need someone who can commit and won’t back out on me. So can you commit? Through the end?”

  This was crazy! “Yes, I can.”

  “Awesome. When are you free tomorrow? I want to get you up to speed on the steps before your first practice with the group.”

  “I don’t have class until noon.”

  “Can you meet me and Shep at the studio from eight to eleven?”

  “Okay...yeah, I’ll be there.”

  “Good, I’ll see you in three hours then.”

  “Bye.” Lorna ended the call and stared at her phone. She couldn’t believe she’d just done that, but her own courage filled her with pride. She was never going to break out of her shell if she didn’t start taking some chances.

  3

  Lily

  Lily stepped out of the bathroom after one of her regular migraine-relieving showers. Rikke stood outside the door waiting for her, glaring.

  “Hi, how are—”

  “Yeah, yeah, about damn time. Why the fuck do you take showers that long?”

  Lily opened up her mouth, ready to formulate a lie to keep her secret hidden. She didn’t get the chance. Rikke shoved past her and into the bathroom, slamming the door. Lily was beginning to think Rikke would never like her.

  She dried off and got dressed. Her hair was still wet when she pulled her jacket on and grabbed her keys. There was no time to blow dry it before her appointment. She saw two doctors a week. One was a medical doctor, who took over her case when she moved to the new town for college, and the other was a therapist, who helped her manage life at school. Luckily for her, the campus had a great health center. Her brother had wanted her to go somewhere in town, to some big expensive clinic. But she really liked the doctors on campus, so she’d convinced him to let her go there instead.

  Plus, the on-campus clinic was much more convenient—just a short walk away.

  Her doctor’s appointment was first, so she skipped past the regular clinic and checked in with the lady at the desk upstairs. Dr. Wilson’s door was slightly open, as usual, so she knocked lightly and stepped inside.

  The older man looked up. “Good afternoon, Lily.”

  “Hi.” She smiled and settled into the comfortable chair across from his desk.

  “How have you been feeling?” He leaned his arms on his desk as he addressed her.

  She shrugged. “Good.”

  He smiled and pulled out her chart to log the questions he was about to ask her. They were routine, and he had to ask her every time. “The migraines?”

  “A little worse,” she admitted.

  “In severity or frequency?”

  “Frequency.”

  He scribbled in the chart. “Last week, you said once every few days. How often are they now?”

  “Usually every day.”

 
“And you’re taking the anti-seizure medications, like you should?”

  “Of course.” The question offended her. She knew how important it was to take her medications regularly and on time.

  He nodded. “I’m sorry, Lily. I have to ask, but I believe you. You’ve always taken your meds religiously.”

  She smiled, slightly placated.

  “Are you sleeping any better?”

  She shook her head. “No, not really.”

  “I can prescribe sleeping medications, if you want to try that.”

  “I don’t want any more medications…any more side effects.”

  “I understand.” He nodded. “Do you know why you can’t sleep?”

  “I’m not sure. I just hear everything, and it keeps me up. Maybe I should talk to my therapist about it. I’ve never had this problem before, just since I started here.”

  “Maybe. You might try playing some music, or some sort of white noise. Anything, a fan or something, just to keep out the other sounds.”

  She nodded. “I’ll try it.”

  The appointment was over about half an hour later, and she made her way back downstairs and into the other portion of the building. She always scheduled her appointments together, just because it was convenient. She still had a few minutes so she sat down in the waiting room. Most places like this didn’t have a waiting room but since this was a small practice and students were allowed to come in on a walk-in basis, they had one. Lily didn’t mind sitting down there, even though she could go wait outside her therapist’s office.

  She wasn’t interested in any of the magazines on the table but took one anyway. That was what you were supposed to do in a waiting room. She opened it, but didn’t bother reading.

  “Hi.”

  She looked up as the only other person in the waiting room, a boy, spoke to her.

  “Oh.” Why was he talking to her? She racked her brain for waiting room etiquette. “Hello.”

  “Pregnant?”

  She blinked. That definitely wasn’t appropriate. “I’m sorry?”