8/17/10

Assist
By Amanda Lawrence Auverigne


Laura leaned back in her seat. She placed her pencil on the table before closing the lid of her buzzing laptop computer.

The young woman leaned back slightly in her chair and she placed the rear portion of her skull against the backrest of the seat. She closed her eyes and folded her hands across her abdomen before taking a deep breath.

A sudden burst of fatigue slowly passed over her form. Her breathing slowed while her body began to succumb to the luxury of sleep.

She was jarred from her respite when a pair of warm moist lips suddenly pressed lightly atop her mouth.

Laura sat up with a sputtering cough. She pressed her hand against her mouth while she gazed across the table.

The seat was empty.

A low shuffling noise filled the area before Melanie fell into the chair.

Melanie smiled at Laura sweetly while she placed her computer on the table.

“Good morning sweetheart,” Melanie said. She blinked rapidly with a surly smirk. “Did you sleep well?”

“Did you,” Laura began with a croak. She lowered her hand from her mouth and cleared her throat before continuing. “Did you just kiss me?”

“Um, I don’t know,” Melanie replied tentatively.

“Oh come on, it had to have been you.” Laura said. She licked her lips quickly.

“Wait, I’m tasting…sun ripened raspberries and citrus. Just like that lip gloss you bought from the Dollars and Mart store last week!” Laura exclaimed.

“You still don’t know it was me,” Melanie said sweetly.

“It was you because I can taste your gloss and you bought the last one. And plus your lips were all warm, soft and kissable and stuff,” Laura said softly.

“Why thank you, Laura. I think that’s the nicest thing any girl has ever said to me,” Melanie said softly.

Melanie leaned forward in her chair. “But it’s not me you should be thanking.”

“What?” Laura asked.

Melanie raised her sight from Laura’s face. She focused on something behind her.

Laura turned around and she stared at the space behind her.

A tall dark haired young man was standing behind her chair.

The handsome youth gazed at Laura with a sleepy smile. He held a slender tube of sun ripened raspberry and citrus flavored lip balm in his hand. He rubbed the edge of the waxy cosmetic across his full lips slowly.

The young man stopped the motion of his hand before lowering the thin canister from his mouth and snapping the small cap atop the tube.

The handsome youth slid the lip balm into his pocket with a wink in Laura’s direction before he turned around and walked away.

Laura turned around. She looked at the table in front of her with a painful grimace.

“Oh, he was so fine, Laura. And it looked like he can really kiss too. You should have gotten his number,” Melanie said.

“I have his number,” Laura said quietly.

“Really? So, you hooked up with him before?”

“No.”

“Then how do you have his number? Oh, he’s in the university register. You stalked him right?”

“No, Melanie. I have his number because he’s my damned TA.”

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“Which class?”

“Historical Perspectives on Mental Illness. Mondays and Wednesdays at 9am in the Hawthorne Building.”

“Oh, your early class.”

“Yup.”

“So, are you gonna go out with him?”

“Melanie, just shut up.”


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Amanda Lawrence Auverigne writes fiction. A few of her stories have been published. "Assist" is one of her tales.