Nondescript

by Rose, Ashley

  “No!” She grabbed at his hand in her hair, but his legs held her securely, and she couldn’t loosen his grip.

  “That’s it.” His other hand was tight on her jaw. “Open wide.”

  She jerked her face out of his grasp and shoved away from him, slamming her back into the wall. He laughed. “Fine. Be a bitch about it.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her onto her back before settling between her legs roughly.

  “You’re gonna do it for me someday, baby,” he said, thrusting back and forth, his breath hot on her face. “You really disappoint me sometimes.”

  She turned her face away. “I’m sorry, Adam.”

  * * *

  Adam hadn’t wanted to hang out afterwards, just like Rikke expected. All he wanted was the sex. She rubbed her eyes as she let herself back into her building. Her face hurt where Adam had grabbed it. She hoped that it wouldn’t leave a bruise.

  She knew her hair was disheveled and surely looked like crap, but she hadn’t realized how bad it was until she got several looks when she made her way through the lounge to check her mail. She got a letter from her mother, a VS catalog, and a slip for a package. When she turned to go, she bumped into someone and dropped her mail. Ben. Again.

  “Sorry about that.” He crouched down to pick up her mail. He was wearing gym clothes, and was sweating from working out.

  Ben handed the letter and magazine back to her but kept the slip that signaled she had a package too big to fit in her mail box. His eyes widened a bit as he stared at her face.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, stepping a bit a closer.

  “I’m in a bad mood.” She tried to take her slip back from him.

  He kept it away from her. “I can tell. But your face.” He touched his own jaw. “It’s red, like someone hit you or...”

  Tried to force you to give them a blowjob? ”It’s nothing,” she said, turning away from him.

  “Look, I’m not your mother or anything, but if—”

  “I said it’s nothing, and it’s none of your damn business. Now give me my package slip back.”

  “I can give the package to you now,” he said as he took out his keys to unlock the office door.

  “It’s okay, I can come back during office hours.”

  “It’s not a problem. I had to stop by here anyway. Come on in.”

  She sighed and followed him into the small room as he flipped the light on. He grabbed her package and had her sign for it, all while peering at her face.

  She turned to leave but he put his body in her way. His dark eyes were kind and concerned as he peered down at her, an expression she barely recognized. “Rikke, I’m your RA. The safety of residents is an RA’s first priority. You know you can always talk to me or with one of the female RAs, if you feel more comfortable.”

  “I said mind your own damn business.” She shouldered him out of the way roughly, though she didn’t fail to notice the toned muscles under his T-shirt.

  She continued up to her room quickly and checked the mirror. Adam must have grabbed her harder than she thought. There was a big red welt where his hand had been. It was definitely going to bruise.

  She breathed out a sigh and pulled open her makeup drawer. As she covered the red with a foundation that matched her pale skin, she told herself that things like this happened all the time. She didn’t know why Ben had reacted the way he did. Adam had just gotten a little angry, and it was her fault. Any bruises Adam left on her were always her fault. If she would just do what she was supposed to, he wouldn’t have to manhandle her the way he did.

  * * *

  Rikke was sitting in her room writing when the phone rang a few hours later. She didn’t bother to try to get up and get it. Either Lily would get it or no one would, and she didn’t care either way.

  Lily knocked on her door a second later. “Rikke? It’s for you.”

  “I’m not here.”

  “I think it’s someone important.”

  She sighed and closed the Word document on her computer before opening her door. Lily jumped back when Rikke stalked out of the room.

  She grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hello, is this Rikke Monroe?”

  “Yes, who’s this?”

  “My name is John Pierce. I’m the Residence Hall Coordinator for your building. How are you?”

  “Fine,” she said shortly. She just wanted him to get to the point.

  “Good. I would like to set up a meeting with you, if I could.”

  “What for?” she asked suspiciously.

  “One of my staff members has expressed some concerns that I would like to address with you.”

  “Who?” Ben, no doubt. “What concerns?”

  “I think this would be best discussed in person. Do you have time today?”

  “No. I don’t want to have a meeting.”

  “The safety of our residents is our number one priority. I strongly encourage you to meet, if not with me, then perhaps with one of the other RHCs on campus, or our supervisor is also available.”

  “I don’t want to meet at all.”

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Monroe, that isn’t really an option. We cannot make you speak during these meetings, but we can mandate you to attend.”

  She groaned. She really didn’t need to be in any trouble with housing right now. “Fine.”

  “I have an opening now, if you’d like to come to my office.”

  “Whatever, where is it?”

  “I am located in Barto, the last office opposite the entrance. My name is on the door.”

  “Be there in a second.” She hung up, wishing she hadn’t even answered the phone.

  “Is everything okay?” Lily asked from behind her.

  Rikke ignored her and went to her room to grab her jacket and longboard. She was too lazy to walk to Barto. Boarding would be faster, and she just wanted to get this over with.

  And of course, she ran into Ben just as she left the building.

  “Hey, Rikke,” he said brightly.

  “Fuck you,” she snapped.

  “I—”

  “My business is my business. You have no right to go telling your fucking boss about what you think you saw.”

  “I’m sorry, Rikke. It’s my job.”

  She dropped her board loudly to the paved walkway. “Save it.”

  With that, she pushed off and was out of there faster than he could react. The whole ride down to Barto, she was steaming over the whole thing. He had no right to go blabbing things to people. The whole thing was ridiculous.

  She flipped her longboard up and grabbed it as she walked into the building. The office was easy to find since there were big windows looking in and the glass door bore the name John Pierce. The man behind the desk waved her in, and she entered after leaning her board against the wall near the door.

  A woman sat on the side of the desk, smiling at her.

  “Ms. Monroe?” the man asked, motioning to the empty chair across from him.

  “It’s Rikke,” she said, plopping down.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Rikke. I’m John and this is Anna Clark. She’s the sexual assault coordinator on campus.”

  “Wow, you guys really don’t beat around the bush, do you? One little run-in with your RA is all it takes, huh?”

  John just smiled politely. “This was, in fact, the fourth report I have gotten from my RAs, all regarding you.”

  “What?”

  “Two of them were from RAs in your boyfriend’s building. Reports included minor verbal abuse with suspected physical abuse behind closed doors. The other two were from your building, reporting sightings of bruises and welts.”

  She clenched her jaw. She hadn’t realized anyone had noticed her except for today.

  “I understand that this might not be a subject you want to discuss, but there are people on this campus who can help you. We’re here today to talk about your options.”

  “I don’t need options. Ther
e’s nothing wrong.”

  “The reports say differently, Rikke, and judging by the amount of makeup on your face, whether you want to admit it or not, you feel the need to hide something. If there was nothing wrong, you wouldn’t need to hide it.” Anna gave her a piercing look.

  “So I wear makeup. That doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with my relationship.”

  “No?” Anna asked. “Maybe we should call Adam and have him come in to clear things up.”

  Rikke swallowed. Adam would be pissed if he heard about this.

  “I don’t mean to be cruel, Rikke,” Anna said, “But sometimes the denial is the hardest thing to overcome.”

  “I’m not in denial.”

  John stood up. “Anna, I believe this is more your territory. I’ll give you guys a few minutes to talk this through.” He left the room, leaving Anna and Rikke together.

  “You cannot deny that Adam verbally assaults you. We have reports of it.”

  “Maybe they were overreacting. Adam doesn’t beat me.”

  “There is more to violence than beatings, Rikke. If he treats you badly at all. Tries to convince you to do something you don’t want to do. Leaves marks on you. Yells or raises his voice to you. If he treats you badly in any way, it is not acceptable.”

  “He doesn’t do any of those things.”

  Anna smiled politely. “Rikke, I do this for a living. I can tell when someone is lying to me.”

  Rikke pursed her lips.

  “Before we get into what’s going on exactly, I want you to know what your options are, just by what I’ve read in the reports.”

  Rikke wanted to leave.

  “You can press charges, or get a restraining order through the county, like anyone would. But campus also has a similar process you can do as well. We can impose a sort of restraining order where he isn’t allowed in your building or within certain parameters. If you are willing to report everything that he’s done to you, I’m confident he could be expelled from the university.”

  “I’ve dated Adam for almost three years. He doesn’t hurt me.”

  Anna nodded and sat back in her chair. “Your makeup is covering a bruise, is it not?”

  She touched her face. “So what if it is? Things like that happen. Accidents.”

  “No, Rikke. They don’t happen. They aren’t accidents. Just like the bruises…” she picked up a paper from John’s desk, “…on your neck, wrists, and face two weeks ago weren’t an accident. And these are just the ones RAs have seen. I have no doubt you cover them up with clothes and makeup. I’m trying to be straightforward with you because you don’t seem like one of those girls who wants to dance around the issue.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Now, I have just a few questions to ask you. I am not going to judge you, or make any response at this time to your answers. These things, by law, are required to be kept strictly confidential, which means that in the end, if you do not want to take any action, you don’t have to.” She produced a clipboard and pen to write with.

  Rikke didn’t respond.

  “Does Adam verbally assault you? The definition being name calling, degrading, yelling, threatening, criticizing, berating or humiliating. Also this can include remarks that feel as if they erode your own self-worth in any way.”

  You need to grow some curves, all right? Your body is barely doing it for me anymore.

  Rikke licked her lips. “Yes.”

  “Does he have abusive expectations? The definition being unreasonable demands of you. These can include frequent sex and attempted or forced sexual or non-sexual acts against your will.”

  He pushed into her without warning, without any warm-up, and it hurt.

  “Adam!” She tried more desperately to buck him off but he leaned his full weight on her and used one hand on the back of her neck to keep her still.

  “Yes.” Rikke couldn’t figure out why she was actually answering these questions.

  “Has Adam’s treatment ever directly resulted in physical pain, discomfort, bruising or cuts of any sort?”

  Adam must have grabbed her harder than she thought, because there was a big red welt where his hand had been. It was definitely going to bruise.

  “Yes.”

  “Has Adam ever forced or attempted to force sex or other sexual acts upon you after you have clearly said no?”

  “I don’t want to,” she said as firmly as she could manage.

  “Yes you do,” he said, gripping the back of her neck and pushing her down his body.

  She tried to push away from him again but he wrapped his legs around her back, holding her body in place.

  “No!” She grabbed at his hand in her hair, but his legs held her securely, and she couldn’t loosen his grip.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you feel as if you are in an abusive relationship with Adam?”

  “No.”

  6

  Lorna

  Lorna woke up early to get to the dance studio on time. She wanted to hide under the covers when her alarm went off, but she was tired of being the girl who hid behind things.

  Nash was already there and looked ready to go. “You showed,” he said as she put her stuff down.

  “You didn’t think I would?”

  “I think you probably regretted that phone call as soon as you hung up with me.”

  How the hell could he know that? She shrugged and went up to him. “So…what are we doing?”

  “Waiting for Shep. You might want to stretch.”

  She nodded and began her series of stretches. “You’re not going to?”

  He smirked. “I’m not going to be the one dancing.”

  She pursed her lips and continued stretching.

  A few minutes later, the door opened and a tired-looking Shep stumbled in. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed, his hair standing in every direction and his eyes half open.

  “Finally,” Nash muttered.

  “Fuck you.” Shep dropped his things carelessly near the door. “I’m not a morning person, and you haven’t even told me why I have to be here.” Then he looked up and saw her. “Lorna!”

  “Hi,” she said, nervously.

  Shep looked at Nash, who was beaming.

  “I convinced her,” Nash said, sounding triumphant.

  “How?”

  Nash made a face and glanced down to where she was stretching on the floor. “Honestly…not sure.”

  Shep looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

  “It’s just, um…” She shifted her weight to her other foot and then back again. “It’s something I want to do, and I’m committing. I’m not going to quit.”

  “Awesome!” Shep looked really excited. “So we’re catching her up on the routine, I’m guessing?”

  Nash nodded and went to one of the stripper poles in the room, running his hand down it, looking thoughtful. “You know, she is a lot better than Gabby.”

  “What are you thinking?” Shep asked, looking suddenly very interested.

  “I saw some of the stuff she can do. We can really add to her part of the performance, make it more central in the piece.”

  Lorna was alarmed. “But I—”

  “Yeah!” Shep cut her off. “I haven’t seen her dance yet but I can tell, she’s got a dancer’s body.”

  She stood up and tried again. “I—”

  “I’m thinking more sexy, more risqué, really shock people, you know?” Nash grew more animated by the moment, his green eyes sparkling.

  Shep nodded eagerly. “We should get started on redesigning the moves we toned down for Gabby. We gotta see what she can do first.”

  They both turned to her with excited looks, and she took a step back. “Uh...”

  “Stretched?” Nash asked, going for the sound system.

  “I—”

  “You’re not going to dance in that, are you?” Shep asked dubiously.

  She looked down at the workout pants and T-shirt that still covered her body. “W
ell, no.”

  Shep looked at her expectantly. “Sweetheart, you’ve got nothing to worry about with us.”

  “I know, but I barely know you.”

  “You don’t know Nash either.”

  “No, but he’s a dancer, it’s different.”

  “I choreographed this dance. I know it better than he does. Besides...” Shep looked down and straightened his shirt. “I’m a dancer too, I just thought choreography would be a better use of my skills.”

  “We get the picture,” Nash said, starting the music before returning. “Come on, we don’t really have time for modesty.”

  She sighed. There really was no use in putting it off since she couldn’t dance with all these clothes on. She tried not to think about the guys standing there looking at her.

  She slipped off the pants and T-shirt, leaving her in little boy shorts and a sports bra. Nash’s look didn’t change, but Shep’s eyes shifted up and down to survey her body. She blushed and turned to toss her clothes in her bag.

  “Idiot.” Nash slapped Shep upside the head. “Stop staring, you’re making her uncomfortable.”

  She glanced up at him. He might be a decent guy.

  “All right.” Nash motioned her over to a pole. “Let’s get started. Shep, will you work the sound?” He tossed the remote for the sound system to the other boy.

  “You got it, boss.” Shep saluted him sarcastically.

  “Knock it off and change the song, freak.” Nash shook his head as he touched her shoulder and moved her closer to the pole. The touch was so casual, and she told herself that this was his piece, of course he was used to putting his hands on his dancers and moving them into position or correcting their form. It was normal but that didn’t stop her from jumping slightly at his touch, or her heart from racing.

  He didn’t seem to notice though. He got straight to business. “All right, you’ll start with something basic.”

  He positioned her hands. “Just dance casual, like you’re in a club.”

  She hesitated. He was so close she could smell his aftershave.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m just still not used to dancing when other people are watching.”

  “Well, don’t worry, I saw you already. You’re great.”