Long Lost Feelings

"Aleah.  Thanks for coming in."  Detective Stratton pulled out a chair for me at a table in a sterile room.  I glanced around at the blank walls, feeling the cold of the metal chair against my skin as I sat down, through the thin material of my skirt.  I had a black and white striped sleeveless maxi dress on, and was wishing I had brought a sweater, as the room was chilly.  I nervously wrung my hands, seeing the handcuffs chained to a hook on the floor, presumably for a perpetrator interview.  I looked at my hands fidgeting, and moved them to my lap, noticing my hands left moist imprints on the metal table.  I looked up at Detective Stratton and he was leaned back in his chair with his hands interlocked behind his head, clearly amused by me and smiling.  "Geez, Aleah, take a deep breath.  You look more nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs!"

I laughed, nervously.  "Sorry, I just feel so... out of place."  I took one last look around the small interview room.

Detective Stratton jumped right in: his face instantly became neutral, and he was sitting forward in the chair, linking his fingers on the table in front of him.  "So here's the thing.  Those pills are rohypnol.  Date rape drug, as you might know it as.  I think we should take a police report, hence why I have you in this room so I can record it.  But that's really up to you.  Honestly, nothing will probably come of it.  We could get a warrant, but we would need some sort of admission from one of those guys, first."  I slumped down in the chair, feeling helpless and like this was pointless.  "Hey now," his voice softened, "don't get discouraged.  I just want you to know what the odds are of justice happening.  The problem is that we can't just raid their house because the prosecutor would look at it as 'he said, she said' and no Judge would sign a warrant based on you saying you found them there.  That's why we would need an admission.  And by the time that happened, I'm sure word would get back and anything that's there would be disposed of.  I completely believe everything you told me.  And we can still file a police report to have it on record, bring those guys in and anyone else out with you that night for interviews and/or as witnesses.  But without an admission by one of them, there is nothing we will be able to do about prosecuting.  Especially since it's way past the timeline to screen your urine."

I sighed dejectedly.  "So really there's no point to even file the report."

"There is.  Because interviews with them may serve as a warning to them to get their acts together.  Or, if they don't, there will be record in case something like this ever happens again and someone comes forward with either of their names, and a traceable history."

"I don't know what to do.  I don't want to ruin their lives, but I also don't want any sort of backlash on campus if this gets out."

"Unfortunately, I can't guarantee that.  However, my assumption is that they won't want it getting out, because it could affect their scholarships and athletic prowess." 

"Um... could I have a day to think about it, maybe?  I'd like to talk to my parents about it, I think."

"Of course.  But since it's the weekend, just give me a call or text me on Monday and let me know what you want to do.  And Aleah," he reached over and put his hand on top of my hands, that I had clasped and resting on the table, "I'm really sorry to hear about your dad.  He's a good guy and has so much strength.  I know he'll get the best medical treatment there is.  If you need anything, let me know."

"Thanks, Detective St.. I mean, Brad."  I smiled innocently at him. 

On my way home I decided to stop by the Racquet Club and talk to James.  I had been so busy all week with classes and papers and studying, that I hadn't had a chance to pick up a racquet since the Big Ten Championships.  When I walked in, he was behind the desk on the phone.  I waved at him and he made an effort to noticeably look me up and down and smile broadly at me.  I shook my head and started perusing the clothing shop.  I always carried my tennis shoes in my car with me, but I didn't have anything to play in.  I grabbed some of the new tennis skirts, tank tops, and dresses they had gotten in since I'd last been in there, and went to the fitting room to try them on.  While I was pulling the first dress on over my head, I heard a knock on the door and James voice coming through, "You better be coming out to model all those outfits for me."  I grinned to myself and kept changing.  I walked out wearing a Wilson white dress, that has a criss-cross back with purple print on the very top and on the straps.  It hit me a few inches past my butt, hugging all of my curves.  I knew it fit me well and I flung open the door and strutted out.  I paraded like I was on the catwalk and did a quick turn and headed back towards the fitting room.  I didn't bother looking at James, as I was just teasing him.  I started to shut the door when James hand quickly flew inside and he stopped me from shutting the door.

"James!" I flirted, grabbing his wrist and trying to playfully push his hand out the door.  He freed his hand and in turn grabbed my wrist.  He then grabbed my other hand with his and slowly guided me back into the fitting room against the wall.  I became acutely aware of how shallow my breathing had become as James lightly pushed his body against mine, holding my body against the wall.  He leaned his head down to mine, pressing his forehead against mine, our noses touching.  He smelled like a delicious expensive cologne, and peppermint gum.  I closed my eyes, as much wishing for his lips to touch mine and for him to walk away. 

He rubbed his forehead across my face to my temple, slowly pulling away, and I turned my head just slightly to the side, and I felt his lips graze my cheek.  They were slightly parted and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face as he gently traced his lips across my cheek bone over to my left ear, leaving a burning trail of lust on my face.  He finally paused his mouth right below my ear lobe.  He lightly kissed my skin, setting off sparks of desire, and raising feelings that we had both long suppressed.