Dibs! (Lesbian, GxG)

Chapter 18

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I curse under my breath, mostly to the teacher who assigned the project I'm working on now. I've already finished the one with May a couple of days ago, so I don't have to worry about that. "You can't make us do this and not give us the right materials to use!"

     I stop mid-write and look through my backpack leaning against the bench (I've decided to work in the courtyard instead of the Cafeterrible), looking for the notes. Suffering a mini panic attack, I find them after five minutes of searching. "Thank God!" I flip through them, looking for a fact. "Dammit!"

     "Ah, sophomore year," someone says behind me. "I remember those days." I turn around and look up to see Annalee. She gives me a warm smile. "Hey, Callie."

     "Hi," I say briskly, returning to my work. "Sorry, but I can't find what I'm looking for."

     The senior kneels beside me, analyzing the project I've completed so far. "Need any help on it?" she offers. "I haven't done this, but I know how to do a project panic-attack free."

     "Really? That'd be great right about now." With a smile, Annalee helps herself to my things. She looks through them and, grabbing the project rubric, stars the important things in my notes that I need according to the rubric. While she's busying herself, I ask, "Don't you have lunch?"

     She nods. "I sometimes skip," she answers. "Like what you're doing right now."

     I gesture at the mess. "I'd like to eat, but this is due in a few days, and I need as few distractions as possible," I explain. "I don't know how I'm going to get it all completed by that time."

     Annalee nods again, this time in understanding. We stay silent for a while, her marking the things, and me writing the stuff down. The wind is there, but it's not so much that it's bothering me; if anything, having the wind blow by my ears are comforting.

     "I heard you went to the McCalls' house," she pipes up.

     Instead of groaning (probably because I'm not going to get much out of it), I just ask, "Where did you hear that?"

     "Eh, around. I think someone saw you and Jules walking by the road."

     I shrug. "It was homework-related."

     "Ah." Annalee flips over the paper she was writing on and gets another piece. "Can I ask if anything odd happened?" she asks as she marks on the new one.

     "Besides Jules wrapping an arm around me, no."

     If the senior thought that counted, she hasn't commented on it. "She hadn't done anything drastic?"

     I have to think about that one. "Actually, no. She came out all creepy, but lately she's been . . ." 

     I'm trying to think of a word. "Sweet?" she offers.

     "Um, I guess."

     "Huh."

     I don't want to talk any more about Jules, and thank God Annalee became quiet. Checking my phone, I tell her we have about ten minutes left before lunch ends. I pick up my pencil again and continue with my writing. 

     On occasion, Annalee would look over what I have so far, and would point something out if I made a mistake. If Nancy was here with me, she'd probably snicker and wouldn't tell me what I did wrong. By the time I was ten, I figured it'd be safer if Mom helped me with the homework instead of my sister, even though back then, Mom would get home from work by ten.

     By the time there were a few minutes left of free time, I hear some yelling nearby. "What the hell?" I say aloud, turning my head around. To my surprise, a couple of people I can't identify are having some sort of an argument right outside the main office building. A small crowd is watching, not bothering to do anything to stop it. 

     I turn to Annalee. "Do you know who's fighting?"

    "Callie, we're both in the same area. If you can't see them properly, then I wouldn't be able to." She and I stand up, me at a slow pace because my feet have decided that now's the good time to fall asleep. Annalee helps me get across to the crowd. As we get closer, I hear something odd. Are the people throwing punches now?

     "Fight, fight, fight!" the crowd chants. Until now, I thought I only got to see that in movies. Apparently, it exists in reality as well.

     One of the fighters grunts, bending at the waist. The other one, a guy with a goatee, doesn't bother to stop; he keeps landing one punch after another. As soon as the first can stand up properly, I recognize the face.

     Jules. 

     "What the hell are you doing?!" I shout over the noise. As soon as I say it, I realize that was a little dumb. There's no way for Jules to hear me without super hearing. To Annalee, I ask, "Isn't there a way to break up the fight?"

     She shakes her head. "I don't think you should get involved unless you're a staff member." After the guy hits Jules on the side, the senior quickly adds, "Or at least bigger than the both of them. Why do you want the fight to stop?" Annalee gives me a questioning look.

     I cross my arms. "I want the fight to be over so I can yell at her," I answer. "That's all. Don't get any other ideas."

     "I wasn't going to."

     I'm about to walk away from the scene when someone--I assume he's the principal--breaks through the crowd and breaks up the fight. Some of us are disappointed that the excitement's over while the rest of us are staring in shock. The principal, Mr. Holland, rarely comes out of his office if he can help it.

     "You!" Mr. Holland booms, shaking his finger at the boy. "In my office!" To Jules, who seems to have actual injuries compared to the guy's barely there scratches (and possibly a bruise in a couple of days), he says, "And you! Nurse's office, and then my office!"

     Neither of the fighters seem the least concerned about what just happened. In fact, as the guy passes by me and Annalee, he winks at Annalee. Jules, witnessing the little moment and misinterpreting who the wink was for, runs up and shoves him. "You don't wink at her!" she shouts. 

     "Hey!" Mr. Holland grabs Jules. "Don't start this up again, missy!"

     Annalee and I watch as Jules and the guy disappear in the building. The other witnesses walk away as if nothing happened. The senior looks at the time before she tells me, "The bell rang while the fight was going on. We have two minutes left until class starts."

     My shoulders slump. "Why couldn't I have agreed to let Mom homeschool me?" I ask. "I wouldn't have to worry about things like this."