Dibs! (Lesbian, GxG)

Chapter 3

While I'm putting the finishing touches on an essay, I hear some snickering behind me. I do my best to ignore it. In between giggles, there's a soft smacking sound that I can assume is a ball being thrown around by the few guys.

     "Gentlemen," Mr. Walker calls out from his desk. "Please save your game for later."

     "Sure thing, Coach," the first guy says. He and his friends go back to their work, but it doesn't take long for the first guy to speak up again. "Psst! Callie!"

     Pretending not to hear him, I make my last correction. I reach inside my backpack for another piece of paper. In cursive I write Callie Tosh at the top, below that the date and period. I don't dare to turn around. Who knows what could have happened.

     "I heard Junkie Jules 'dibsed' you," the guy says. "If you fuck her, send me a vid--"

     "David!" Mr. Walker interrupts. "One more word out of you and you're getting detention after school today." I take the time to say 'thank you' to the English teacher under my breath.

     I'm the first in class to get the hell out of the room as soon as the ringing bell dismisses us. Almost immediately I regret it. Jules is in my way. If she keeps doing this, she might one day scare me enough to send her to the hospital.

     Today she's wearing a pink T-shirt stuffed into the overalls. "Hi, Callie!" she says loudly. Like that one lunch, people are noticing us. I guess there's some serious money in making those reality TV shows, judging from how much attention I'm getting. "Where are you going next?" Jules asks.

     Did I--? I pat my pockets for the meds. Yep, I have them.

     Jules doesn't say anything else as I pop two little pills in my mouth and dry-swallow them. She does ask after, "What are those for?"

     "It's--it's, none of y-your business," I stutter.

     Cocking her head, Jules gets bumped by a jock. "I wanna know," she says.

     And I want you to stay 10 yards away from me, I add in my head.

     Sensing my discomfort, Jules changes the subject. "What do you play?" I must have looked as confused as I feel. "In music class."

     My eyes widen. How does she know I play?

     Jules laughs at my facial expression. "You're silly," she says. "You dress up on the days you go somewhere with the band kids."

     Oh. There is that. It's a requirement we dress up not in a white top and black pants, but gold and blue instead (unfortunately, blue jeans don't count) to show our school spirit. Apparently, verbally announcing who we are to the judges and audience isn't enough for Mr. Neven.

     Speaking of Mr. Neven, I remember the tidbit that we're having a recital quiz today. I get to my locker and get the instrument case out. "Cool! You play the violin?" Jules asks. "Can you play a lot of songs, or are you still learning a couple?"

     Closing the locker, I walk towards the band room. Jules walks by my side, taking a break in her talking. For the brief moment I was relieved. And then she ends the silence between us by saying, "I like that you don't say much."

     Jules pauses to think. "Although I still want to know what you're thinking."

     She's obviously never seen a conversation between me and May. I don't say that, though. Might as well use her comment to my advantage. Hopefully the less I say, the more she gets bored of me.

     Junkie Jules will do anything to get you, May reminds me in my ear. I shake the reminder out of my head and open the door. I don't bother saying good-bye to Jules as I practically shut the door in her face.

     As I take my seat in the string section, a viola player looks at me oddly. I take the violin out of its case and tune it before I place my music sheets on the stand. "Aren't you the girl Jules supposedly has a crush on?" the viola player (I think her name is Cindy) asks.

     I nod. "Want my position?" I ask.

     "No. That sucks, though."

     I nod again. The bell rings for the start of class. Mr. Neven hasn't prepared himself yet, so Cindy and I have at most a few extra minutes. "Know anything about her?" I ask in a whisper. I don't want anyone to hear my conversation.

     Cindy senses what I'm thinking. She lowers her voice as well. "Just the rumor that she's into drugs. Oh, and that she's a lunatic." Cindy pauses to put her viola in position. "I'd think it's a safe bet to have a teacher know what's going on if Jules goes too far."

     I shake my head this time. "I, um, I'm good," I say.

     "You sure?"

     "Y-yeah."

     "Callie Tosh, you're up first," Mr. Neven calls from his office. From the window I can see him stack some papers for him to take out into the bigger room. He looks through it. "Callie? I said you're performing."

     With shaking hands I hesitantly get up and slowly make my way to the front. I place my bow at ready over the violin strings. As soon as Mr. Neven gives me the signal, I slide my bow down and start playing a piece I've practiced, mostly in class.

     I'm doing pretty well. At least, that's what I originally thought. My audience, however, starts getting restless and whispers to one another. Mr. Neven shushes those who were loud, but other than that he doesn't make a huge fuss.

     It doesn't bother me all that much. I've learned to ignore the tiny noises while I'm playing. What I'm not prepared for is some trombone player to whisper, "Dibs."

     I stop for a brief second, but I shake it off and continue. Soon, another person says, "Dibs." A few others catch up to what the first two were doing, and every now and then a "Dibs," can be heard from the audience.

     Halfway through, Callie, I tell myself. Just halfway through, and you can sit down and pretend it never happened.

     Due to my nerves, that doesn't go as planned. One more person joining the 'fun' has me stop playing and run out of the classroom, a panic attack starting. Laughter is followed by Mr. Neven scolding them and calling my name.

     I try my best to calm myself down, taking deep breaths and whatnot. A hand places itself on my shoulder and I jerk away. Mr. Neven stares at me with concern

     "Are you alright, Callie?" he asks.

     No, dumb ass, I think. I was humiliated in class because some girl with boundary issues announced to the whole school what she thinks of me.

     Instead, I mumble, "I-I'm fine."

     Satisfied, the music teacher tells me I can finish the recital later. He re-enters the room, giving me some time to collect myself out in the hall. By accident I peek inside. The same trombone player who started the game sees me and yells out, "Hey, Junkie's new girlfriend!" A couple of kids laugh at the joke.

     There's yet another thing I learned the hard way: Unless I move away from here or overcome my anxiety, I'll have to put up with theses assholes without a fight.