The Rest of The Story

All semester long, I sat next to Lindsay in biology. She was cute and fun and we passed notes and whispered constantly. She drew a picture of our bald, bespectacled professor dressed as Frankenfurter. I drew one of him dressed as a Trekkie, wearing the uniform and making the Spock salute.

Lindsay invited me to study for the final at the rented house she shared with two other girls. As we started to get down to business, her roommates came in singing “Happy Birthday” and carrying a twelve pack of beer wrapped in a bow. I had no idea it was her birthday.

After fifteen minutes and a beer went by, the roommates disappeared so I figured that it was time to get back to work. I opened my book and said, “Okay, I think we were reviewing chapter twelve.” But instead of reaching for her book, Lindsay lightly placed her hand on my thigh.

I raised my head, and Lindsay looked up and right into my eyes. The warmth of her hand traveled up my leg and the skin beneath her fingers began to buzz as if her hand contained a thousand tiny bees.

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” I asked, still worried about my grade.

“Do what?” Lindsay replied innocently, still holding my gaze.

“Um…well, not study.”

“Who’s not studying? I just don’t feel like reading right now. Why don’t you read it to me?” She said with a low, confident voice I’d never heard from her.

“Well, okay…let’s see, chapter twelve…” I looked back up at her and she still stared right at me.

“Okay. ‘Drosophila melanogaster, the common fruit fly, has long been used as a model organism in genetic experiments due to its short life cycle, which allows a new mating experiment every two weeks.’”

“Every two weeks?” Lindsay interrupted, “That doesn’t sound so frequent. How often do you think mating experiments should be conducted?” Lindsay shifted her weight a little, and her hand moved slightly higher up my leg. The tingling sensation spread.

“I don’t know, I guess it would depend on the lab partner... but two weeks is definitely too long.”

“What if you had the right partner?” She leaned in a little and her hand moved almost all the way up my inner thigh, just short of where I wanted it. I felt the growing anticipation just above her hand. The butterflies of a new lover danced in my stomach.

“With the right partner, I would have to conduct several experiments a day.” I focused on her mouth, her thick soft lips, now slightly parted. I ached to kiss her, but I wanted to prolong the game.

“Do you think you have that kind of…desire? That’s a lot of experiments... you’d have to be a very curious boy.” She moved a little closer. I could feel her breath with each word. Her hand move again, ever so slightly. The edge of her little finger barely brushed against me. My body twitched as a little bolt of electricity shot down my legs and up through my chest, right to the back of my head.

“I don't think I've ever been this curious.” I dropped the book and kissed her. I didn’t care about my biology grade any more.