Every Thing She Does is Magic

This is my entry for "The Art of Falling" invitational challenge. It is a prequel to "Spirits in the Material World".

I acknowledge that beginning with an apology is poor form, but in this case, I must. Dear reader, I apologize for the length of this. It simply could not come out any shorter than it is and be true to the characters. - Storyteller0112

Tuesday, September 1

It was the beginning of the second week of classes in the fall semester. Tom was the senior lab assistant/tutor for the accounting courses at the state university. He was excited about his forensic accounting course this semester. It was fun for him to sleuth through the facts to discern the truth someone was trying to hide.

He began his scheduled lab hours at 6:30 PM on that Tuesday. It promised to be an uneventful night. Course project assignments weren't scheduled for a few more weeks. Nobody generally had issues this early in the semester. He settled into his chair, lugged out his textbook, and resumed his reading.

A soft knocking on the open door interrupted him. He looked up and began to ask a question when his voice caught in his throat and refused to go any further. His heart felt like it had stopped beating. Sweat beaded on his clean-shaven upper lip. Trying to clear his throat, he licked his lips and attempted again. This time he made some unintelligible sounds before having to cough into his elbow. Finally, he tried a third time.

"May I help you, Miss?" he croaked. He could not see any rings or other jewelry on any of her fingers.

"Uh, yeah, I guess. Is this where the accounting tutor is located? There's not a sign on the wall," she stated hesitantly.

He looked away from her before he could answer. Her voice was like honey; thick, clingy, smooth, and oh so appealing. However, that wasn't why he had to look away. He simply could not focus on anything while he was looking at her face.

"I am the tutor-on-duty, miss. I'm Tom Harrison. Do you need some help with an accounting course already?" he asked.

"Wow! You're the tutor?" Her tone conveyed disbelief.

"Yeah, it's my Work/Study job on campus. You appear surprised by me."

"It's just that you're not a geeky dweeb. Where're your black framed glasses? Where's your plastic pocket protector?" she teased. "You look like a bit of a jock, or maybe a surfer dude wannabe. Are you sure? We're talking about accounting, right?"

"Oh, the geeky guy is John Wilson. He's usually here between 3:30 and 6:00," he said with a perfectly straight face, although he still could not bring himself to look at this girl in her face. He knew he would lose all control if he were to look at this Medusa. Not that she was unattractive, quite the opposite. Maybe not classically beautiful, but attractive and definitely Kryptonite for him.

"Would you please sign-in on the clipboard? We will see how I can be of assistance."

The girl turned away from him to put down her information on the form. He took a deep, cleansing breath and a quick look. Definitely female with straight, raven-black shoulder-length hair, pink t-shirt, jeans (with a nice ass!), and sandals. Finished with logging her information, she turned back to him. He quickly looked away before his eyes met hers and he froze in place.

"Thank you, miss ..." his voice trailed off, asking the question without asking the question.

"Julie. Julie Lawson," she supplied, handing him the clipboard.

"Miss Julie Lawson. Accounting 100. Professor Casper. Excellent! Would you please have a seat, and we'll get started?"

She pulled out the chair directly across the table from him and sat, waiting, fingers interlaced, watching him.

He looked up, locked his blue eyes onto her green ones, and her Medusa-like power struck him. He froze, unable to look away, unable to move, unable to think of anything except how this girl so closely resembled his mother. All he could do was stare.

The silence stretched out. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Twenty seconds, before she cleared her throat and waved her hand before his eyes. The sound and movement achieved their purposes. His body jolted with a start, and he looked down at her hand on the tabletop. It was a cute hand with pale pink coloring on her well-maintained nails. Neither tattoos nor any rings. Her hand reached across the expanse between them, gently touching one of his hands.

The sensation of her touch on his hand sent a subtle shock through both of them. It calmed his nerves to the point where he could bring himself to look at her face. It gave her tingles in places only her fingertips had ventured in a couple of years. It connected them in a way neither had ever felt.

"What is it, Tom? Why won't you look at me?" she asked, her thumb lightly stroking the back of his hand.

"You- you-." He paused for another breath. "You remind me of someone I've loved and lost, forever. Give me a moment, please?"

"Of course, Tom." She did not let go of his hand. She liked to touch him, and not only for the tingles she received from the contact. She sensed a need in him for human contact. A need she was suddenly happy to try to satisfy. After a minute or so, he composed himself to the point of being able to help her.

"All right," he began. "You're taking Accounting 100, right?" he confirmed.

"That's right, with Casper on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 10. He said this class could be 'tricksy', but there were good tutors here for free."

"It's nice to know he values us," he commented. "So, what has you puzzled already? It's only the second week of the semester. You strike me as being fairly sharp."

"Mr. Casper gave us a heads-up today about the term project for the course and I wanted to get out in front of it. You know, maybe make a personal connection with a tutor so as not to be limited to scheduled hours," she said, arching her eyebrows and smirking at the last bit.

"Doctor Casper did your class a huge favor. This is usually not announced until the fourth or fifth week of the semester and a lot of people let it slide and end up scrambling at the end. So, I commend you, Miss Lawson, for wanting to get a jump on it."

They talked about the various tricks, tips, and traps for this term project he had seen while he had been working as a tutor for the business department. As there were no other takers for his tutoring time, they kept talking and sharing. Finally, she had to get up to use the restroom. He closed his eyes and offered up a prayer to God for peace for himself. He did not care at all for feeling so out of control.

While in the restroom, she had a mental conversation. 'Okay, Julia, what are you doing? Can you believe it? That guy gave you goosebumps simply by touching his hand! Your nipples got SO hard! He's such a geek! He's an accounting major; okay, business finance. How thrilling is that going to be, not? Yet your panties are nearly soaking. How did that happen? Don't be a slut, Jules! Play this out a little. Maybe your dry spell is coming to an end.'

When she returned, she pulled the chair around and sat next to him. It eliminated the table as a barrier and allowed her more flexibility in presenting herself to him. She had taken her bra off while in the restroom and had folded it up in her front pocket, and her girls demonstrated their appreciation for their freedom. Her stiff nipples were slightly evident through her top and they weren't going away anytime soon. Not knowing much about him, she resorted to doing what she believed every guy wanted. She tried to communicate her interest in him without coming right out and saying anything directly.

He had not had much experience with girls, and he was baffled by her forwardness. Despite losing the reading time for Business Ethics, he had been enjoying the time with her. Her occasional hand touches had kept his interest and he had dominated the pre-break discussion, staying focused on what he knew she would need to know for her project. Somewhere along the line, he had mostly gotten over how much she resembled his mother and he could now look at her face without freezing up.

"Do you have any other questions I can try to answer?" he inquired. "It's not like there's a line of people needing my help right now."

She gave him a little smirk and arched her back slightly, causing her stiff nipples to show more through the t-shirt. "Yes, I do. Do you like girls, Tom? More specifically, do you think I'm attractive?"

"Yes, I like girls, and, yes, I think you're pretty." He smiled in return, knowing that he'd answered her explicit questions without answering the implicit ones. "Please be sure to complete the customer satisfaction survey," and he handed her a blank 2" by 2" sticky note, "and we hope to be able to help you again in the future with your accounting questions." He picked up his less-than-thrilling Business Ethics textbook, found his place, and tried to resume his reading which she had interrupted.

She was nonplussed at his implicit dismissal. The sticky note was blank. He stuck his nose back into a textbook. Her mind whirled from idea to thought without stopping on any specific one. She stood and almost stumbled to the door. She slapped the sticky note beside the door, still blank, and headed to her dorm room.

'What the fuck happened?' she thought as she walked back to her dormitory. She entered her room, still deep in thought, and sat in an armchair to continue her pondering. Her thoughts continued to go in a circle without gaining much traction.

"Jules, are you okay?" her roommate, Dawn, asked.

"I'm not quite sure, D. Ever try to get a guy interested in you but they just wouldn't bite?"

"Not that I can remember. Is he gay?"

"He claims to like girls. He also thinks I'm pretty. I freed my 'girls' during a break, and they were not hiding. He practically gave me the 'bums' rush' out of the accounting lab a few minutes ago."

"Oh, let me guess. Kinda tall, square jaw, blue eyes, short blonde hair? Seems like he should be a jock?"

"Yeah, Tom Harrison."

"Yeah, you met 'Tonsured Tommy', the resident monk."

"Say what?"

"It's a cruel nickname given by the mean girls to the resident accounting and business geek. Tonsure is the haircut that monks were known to have, hair on the fringes, bald on the top. Not that he has one, but it goes along with the monk-like history he's had for a few years. I've heard he's a nice guy, but the total antithesis of a player. Nobody's been able to get close to him, not even his roommate. That's only a rumor, though. He's a senior and has the best GPA in the business department. He's definitely the go-to guy for that stuff."

'Hmmm,' Julie thought. She reviewed what she recalled of the events. She realized that she had pushed too hard, too fast. She might have to play the long game with him. 'Why this guy? What is so damnably special about him?' she wondered. It wasn't that he was playing hard to get, although he was being hard to get. It wasn't her if he had this reputation of being distant to everyone. He seemed to be fully in the moment with her, especially once he calmed down and could look at her. 'I reminded him of someone he'd loved and lost. What did that mean? Why did his touch electrify me?' She would have to do some more research. She got up and left the dorm room again saying that she would be back in a bit.

He noticed she had left the sticky note blank and stuck by the door. Ah, well, he'd presented the opportunity to give him her phone number and she passed it up. 'Maybe I played it too cool', he wondered. 'It's no skin off my nose,' he rationalized and tried to focus on the boring words in the textbook. He couldn't let it go. He wrote her name down on the sticky note: Julie Lawson, Professor Casper's Accounting 100 course, T-Th, 10 AM. He stuck the note on the inside cover of his Forensic Accounting textbook, the one he wanted to open.

It wasn't that she looked a little like his mom. She was freaking identical! He was sure his heart would explode, right before his head did. Tears began to collect in his eyes as the loss of his mother slammed him, hard. 'It wasn't fair,' he wanted to cry and scream and stamp his feet. 'Why? Why did you have to take her, God? Tell me why, please!'

He had to get up and visit the restroom himself now, so he left a note on the door that he'd be right back. Standing in front of the mirror over the sink, his hands on the countertop, he hung his head and cried. He cried for about three minutes, grabbed some paper towels, and wet them, and washed off his face. His eyes were still red and puffy, but the tear tracks had been cleaned up. He washed his hands thoroughly and returned to the accounting lab for the remaining fifteen minutes of his shift.

After recording his time, he gathered up his stuff, turned out the lights, closed the door, and headed back to his dorm. He still sniffled occasionally but he was focused on his journey and unaware of his being watched and tailed. On his way back to his room, he reviewed the encounter with her. The system shock he felt when they touched. The way she could have been a twin sister to his mom. He tripped slightly on a curb and almost fell at that thought. He decided to wait for the comfort of his bed before doing any more review.

He noted nothing on the doorknob, so he entered without knocking and made a beeline for the bathroom shared with the other room. With his hands on the countertop and staring into his eyes reflected in the mirror, he knew why she had affected him so. He had set much of that aside to keep his control and do the job he was engaged to do. He was an ass to her when she had no more course-related questions. That was why he had been hired: to answer course-related questions. Still, he owed her an apology. Well, he knew where and when he could find her on Thursday morning. It would wait until then.

He didn't feel like studying more that night and it was now 9:20 PM, so he stripped down to a t-shirt and underwear and got under the sheet. When his roommate returned, Tom engaged him.

"I had this strange encounter during my tutor shift in the accounting lab. This pretty girl, Julie, came in for the first time and we ended up talking for a bit about her upcoming project. She had to use the restroom and when she came back, her tits were front and center and her nips were tenting the shirt. Do you think she was inviting me into something? I admit I'm clueless about this."

"Dude, hell yeah she was inviting. What did you do about it?"

"I was polite and courteous and invited her back if she ever had any other questions relating to her accounting class."

"Did you get her phone number? Did she offer it or anything else?"

"I have her name and her Accounting 100 section. I don't know if she lives on campus or off. I don't know a whole lot about her except that she looks like my mom."

"Do you mean she looks a little like your mom?"

"No, she could be my mom's twin. It messed with my head when she walked in."

"But she's not your mom at all, right?"

"How similar they are is yet to be determined."

Wednesday, September 2

Julie went about her normal Wednesday schedule, but thoughts of Tom would pop in at random times throughout the day. The pale blue color of his eyes, the cute Cupid's bow of his lips, the touch of his hand all played havoc with her concentration outside of class time. Somehow her feet took her by the accounting lab in the late afternoon, once her classes were done, and she peeked inside. At the table sat a stereotypical nerd, complete with black-framed glasses and a pocket protector full of pens. Ducking her head back quickly, she smiled to herself and walked off before her chuckles could be heard. 'That must have been John Wilson,' she thought. Tom had told her the truth.

She had several assignments to complete, so she postponed her investigation for Thursday and returned to her dorm room. A new poster near the bulletin board caught her eye. It advertised the free "Date Nite Movie Nites" along with the schedule. Ugh, all Rom-Coms, some older than others. Still, they weren't terrible movies. This could be a good thing and she would have to find a way to suggest this to him.

Tom was much better after a night's rest. He had resolved most of his concerns revolving around Julie Lawson. He was even better for having stroked one out in the shower at the memory of a girl in a pink shirt with her nipples intentionally showing. He was attracted to her, this girl who resembled his mother. The physical resemblance was only the starting point. She seemed to be getting into him, and any time a pretty girl is interested in you, that's a good thing.

He remained focused on his courses. He knew he had the best GPA of all the business majors and he was not about to let that distinction go to someone else. In his Business Ethics course, the participants were assigned a 5-to-10-page paper on what they thought Business Ethics should incorporate. It was not due until next Wednesday, but he wasn't one to let the grass grow under his feet. He settled in at the accounting lab and started to write out in longhand his ideas for his paper. He had filled up two pages when a shadow crossed his notepad and he heard a soft voice.

Looking up into soft, jade green eyes, his mouth went dry, and once again he temporarily lost the power of speech. Licking his lips, he croaked out an invitation for her to have a seat across the table from him, which she accepted.

"Miss Lawson, I am extremely sorry for my behavior yesterday evening. Can you ever forgive me? I was rude, inconsiderate, and thoroughly embarrassing to my family's heritage."

His apology took her completely by surprise, as did his change in attitude. He didn't appear afraid of her tonight, and he seemed completely sincere in his apology. She reached out a hand to touch his, and he turned his hand over so they could be palm to palm. She nestled her hand in his larger one and they seemed to fit perfectly.

"Yes, Mr. Harrison, I forgive you for your rudeness. I owe you an apology as well for being so forward. I thought that all guys worked the same way, and that did not match your personality. I would genuinely like to re-start our acquaintance if we might."

"So, call last night a mulligan and we have a do-over?" he asked with a grin. "I'm willing if you are."

"Agreed!" she responded enthusiastically.

"Now, how may the accounting lab tutors be of assistance this fine evening?"

She brought her chair around to sit next to him and asked him to repeat his cautions about the project, which she noted this time. They began exchanging information about themselves. There were many similarities, just mirrored. Each had a younger sibling of the same gender, and each had only one parent. Grandparents were not part of the day-to-day familial structure, and both were concerned about their single parents.

A couple of times during their get-to-know-you talk she reached out to touch him, either on his hand or on his arm. It was to make contact, non-suggestive in any fashion. For him, it was soothing. She looked so much like his mother yet, apart from being female, she did not show other traits in common. This allowed him to begin to form a relationship with her simply based on herself.

For her, she would still get these little shocks simply by being in skin-to-skin contact with him. It was like he connected with something deep inside of her, and she wanted more. She was ready to have a steady boyfriend again, and she had decided on him. Now, how to get him to go along with her decision? One word: slowly. She jumped the gun last night and got the boot for her efforts. It would not happen again.

"Tom, you said before that I looked a bit like someone you loved and lost. A girlfriend, perhaps?"