Dibs! (Lesbian, GxG)

Chapter 8

I regret following my sister's order to come home as soon as I walk in the door. "Mom's on a chore rampage," Nancy says as she hands me what looks to be a roll of toilet paper with a lot of words written on it.

     "Seriously?" I ask. I look over the list. "She knows this is the last free roll we have, right?"

     Nancy puts her hands up in surrender. "I try my best not to judge anyone's crazy decisions."

     "Explains why you're always making those kind of decisions." I dodge from Nancy's hand as she attempts to smack me on the arm. I make a face at her before looking at the list. "'Clean the kitchen'," I state the first at the top. I then read the little bullet points under that. "'Sweep the floor, mop the floor, clean the oven--' I'm not doing the oven. Has Mom ever heard of 'Hansel and Gretel'?"

     I keep reading the bullets and then give up and look for the end of the list, resulting in unrolling the toilet paper. "Wow, Mom got to halfway?"

     "What did I tell you?" my sister responds. "She's going ape shit on the chores." She grabs the roll from me and rolls up the soft paper. "Which do you want to do?" Nancy asks as she looks through the list.

     "Why?" I say instead. 

     "Why what?"

     "Why is Mom making us do this?"

     Instead of being straightforward, Nancy makes a noise. "You know as much as I do."

     "Thanks," I say flatly. "You're ever so helpful."

     After considering a couple of options, Nancy rips a couple of pieces from the rest and hands the pieces to me. "You can do these, and I'll do . . . something," she says. "Mom's gone for some errands, and she's coming home in a couple of hours. She expects at least half of these done today."

     I sigh in resignation. I was hoping to practice my violin later.

_________

"Hello, girls!" Mom chirps as she walks in the door. We grumble a reply as she sets down a couple big grocery bags on the kitchen table. "And how nice to see my daughters so happy and cheerful," she adds sarcastically.

     "You can have us do chores, or you can come home to a happy family, but you can't have both," I respond. I dump the contents I swept in the dustpan into the trash can. Nancy's still vacuuming, but the noise is quiet enough that no one needs to yell over it. 

     Mom scoffs, attempting to act like a teenager. (At her age, it's both hilarious and cringing.) "Yeah, I can. I can buy both with money."

     I wordlessly hold out a hand. "Twenty up front."

     "Mmm, no. Not going to happen." She starts unpacking the food from the bags. "I do, however, have the ingredients for you girls' favorite dish." She holds out a jar of something red, wearing a smile.

     Nancy excitedly pipes up, "Cheesecake?"

     "Yes, Nan," I tell her. "We put in spaghetti sauce in cheesecake."

     My sister takes a closer look at the jar in Mom's hand. "Oh." Looking sad now, Nancy continues her cleaning. Mom just shakes her head in amusement.

     "How was your play date with May?" she asks.

     "Um, I'm sixteen. I'm pretty sure people my age don't have play dates," I say. "And It was fine."

     "That's good." Mom stomps around the (nice and clean) kitchen floor as she puts everything away. I notice a couple of stains her shoes have left. "Did you meet anyone new?"

     How did she know about--? Oh, right. I told her May and I were hanging out somewhere teenagers like to go to. "Kind of," I say. "May met a couple of people, and she wanted me to get to know them."

     Well, that stops Mom cold. "By 'people', do you mean, 'boys'?" she asks. 

     The way she spoke prompts me to ask, "Is that a problem?"

     Mom shakes her head. "No, not at all." She's put everything away except for the ingredients for tonight's dinner. "So, what's his name?"

     "There were two," I explain. "May was hanging out with a guy named Logan, and I had an interesting conversation with Dominic." My fingers curl all the way, making my hand form into a fist from the questions Mom's asking. Sometimes, she'd forget that certain things make me anxious. Asking such probing questions is one of them.

     "Exactly how interesting was the conversation with Dominic?" She turns around when I don't say anything. "Callie?"

     "I um," I start. I hold up the broom. "I need to finish sweeping."

     "That's fine. I need to get this started, anyway."

___________

"So Callie," Mom pipes up while I'm in the middle of chewing. "Is there anything new going on with you? You know, besides the boys."

     Nancy stops cold. "Boys?" she muffles. "What boys?"

     "Nan," I warn. "Don't talk when you're chewing."

     "Okay, Mommy point two." 

      I roll my eyes at the snarkiness. To Mom, I answer, "Kind of. There's a girl at my school." I leave out the part about how we met.

      "Really?" Mom sounds a little too excited. "Is she a nice girl? What's her name?"

      My sister swallows loudly. "What boys?" she repeats.

     I ignore her. "We just met, so I'm not sure about what kind of person she is," I answer. I spin my fork around a pile of noodles and hope the time goes by fast so I can leave the table and cram some violin practice into today's schedule. 

     "Do you know her enough to know her name?" Mom asks. I shrug. "Well, you should invite her over so I can meet her."

     I choke on my food. I force myself to swallow everything, resulting in my chest burning. I soothe the feeling with a full glass of water I almost never drink at dinner. I'm kind of glad Mom has this rule right now. "Um, I don't think she's all that free," I lie. "And besides, there's nothing here she and I could do."

     "You can give her a performance," Mom suggests. "I hear you play the violin 24/7. I'm sure you're very good at this point." She gives me a smile, which I think is supposed to make me feel complimented.

     Nancy interrupts. "Are you going to expand on the 'boys' thing, Callie?" she asks.

     "Why do you care?" I say. I stand up, picking up my half-full plate. "I have homework to do," I add as I go into the kitchen to throw away the waste and put the dishes in the dishwasher. "Good night."

     I head into my room, my chest already feeling weird. I'd take my meds now, but I just took my dose right before dinner; if anything, all I'd do is risk taking a trip to the hospital.