get your lips on me | JENLISA

Three

"Okay so I know I said this last time, but..."

At this point, why is Lisa even surprised? What is the phrase– Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice.

"Good afternoon, Jen," Lisa deadpans without looking up from the outline she is writing. "Here for some studying, are you?"

"Hi, Lis," Jennie answers, and damn Lisa if she can't picture the silly little smile she can hear on her face from those two words. It's almost enough to make her look up. Almost.

So much for a relaxing Tuesday afternoon prepping for her paper. Lisa may have to re-think her studying locations if the last couple of weeks are anything to go by. This space, once sacred to her, is quickly being besmirched by the girl leaning across her table.

"Okay, but for real, please don't be mad."

Lisa sighs. "So, not studying then." She opens a new JSTOR tab.

Jennie snorts. "And ruin this thing we have going? Never."

Oh. Lisa's fingers pause on her keyboard. So it's a thing that they have now. She turns her mind from ideating over that new development to listing the Canterbury Tales in order.

Jennie is undeterred. "You know," she continues, tapping the stack of books in front of Lisa's laptop. "Me assailing your study time. Accosting your learning. Ambushing–" She turns the books so she can read their spines. "Wait. What classes are these for? Some of these aren't even in English."

"Correct. The ones in English and Arabic are for my Myth in Culture paper. The Swedish is a title my mother requested I read before our next Skype call."

"Why would...? You guys aren't even Swedish."

"True," Lisa says, "But Sweden is looking to join NATO, so. According to her, I have some catching up to do."

"Oh, of course. How silly of me."

When Jennie makes no move to sit down or continue the conversation, Lisa sighs again. "Do I want to know what happened?"

"I mean..."

"Don't tell me he wasn't there again. Jennie, what, has this boy fallen through a hole in the space time continuum?"

"No, um he was in class today. I just..." She mumbles something under her breath.

"What was that last part?"

Jennie clears her throat, "I, uh, I forgot to take off my jacket."

Lisa does look up then, abruptly. And, abruptly, she wishes she had not. The weather has lifted from this morning's fog and Jennie's jacket is off now, slung lackadaisically over her arm as if to make up for its lapse earlier, and–

Lisa locks her eyes on the sign behind Jennie's head. Burns the Dewey decimals into her brain. Refuses to look anywhere but the safe haven of 800.18-833.00. Her eyes live there now, thank you.

There are–

Lisa feels her ears burning, burning, burning like her soul no doubt will be. As planned, Jennie is wearing a tank top. She's also propped against the table, leaning on her hands, showcasing her cleavage like its a bust in the Prado. And, oh, one of those hickeys is incredibly low.

Lisa's lips would have had to have been right at the cup of Jennie's bra to leave that.

Sunday night comes flooding back to her in waves of heat-filled memories. The weight of Jennie's body on her thighs. Her fingers in her hair, tugging just forcefully enough to keep Lisa's mouth close. The sound of her breathing.

It washes over her, the heat so sudden and strong she feels light headed. She grips the pen in her hand hard. Snapping it and sending ink all over her laptop and library books would be a small price to pay to avoid spontaneous combustion.