I Love the Girls Who Hate To Love (girlxgirl) (ON HOLD)

Chapter 2

English class.

Total bore, listening to the 11th grade English teacher, Mrs. Wilkes, drone on in a monotone voice about misplaced and dangling modifiers. Gods, I HATE reviews, we went over this last year for a full week.

Ten minutes into class, and she’s boring us to death, literally. I think a few of my classmates have slipped into comas! But I don’t dare close my eyes, sitting in the front left corner, right in front of Mrs. Wiles desk.

And then class gets interesting… She walks into the classroom, hips swaying as she walks as if there’s music playing. She stops in the middle of the front of them classroom. She looks all around. I see Her lips move as she talks, but I hear no sound. I’m too mesmerized by Her beautiful face. Her cherry red lips pout adorably as Mrs. Wilkes talks to her. I see anger in Her chocolate brown eyes. Her skin is pale, but not as pale as mine, for it has a peachy undertone, like Gage’s skin. Aw, how cute! She’s got freckles!

Mrs. Wilkes points at me, and I snap out of my trance.

“What?” I ask, totally confused and lost.

“I said,” says Mrs. Wilkes, as if I’m stupid, “that Miss.. Um…?” Mrs. Wilkes looks at Her, asking what Her name is.

“Rhyse.”

“Okay, Miss Rhyse, can sit next to you, Miss Grimm.”

“Oh,” I say quietly. Wow, first day of school, first period, and a teacher already hates me.

She sashays down the isle across the other half of the room. She gracefully sits in the seat to my right. She looks at me, looks me straight in my sapphire blue eyes, and smiles, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth.

“Miss Grimm, Miss Rhyse, please pay attention to me, and not each other!”

“Yes, ma’am,” She says in the most angelic voice I’ve ever heard. She pulls out a piece of paper. I think she’s actually taking down notes, until she folds it up and slips it to me.

I unfold it.

-

Hi. I noticed you lookin. Watcha lookin at?? ;)

I look at her again, questioningly, and She smiles and motions for me to write. So I write:

-Well, um… I’ll tell you if you tell me your name. Mine’s Cameron.

I pass the note back. She pauses for a moment, then scribbles down something quickly.

-Musae-Estee. Call me ‘Emmie’

-Why ‘Emmie’? Ur name doesn’t sound like ‘Emmie’

-Yes it does… ‘m’ from Musae ‘e’ from Estee. M + E = Emmie.

-Oh. So…?

-Why were you looking? And at what?

-Your eyes are beautiful, chocolate brown with gold flecks… *blush*

-Wow. You lezzy or something?? Cuz I am.

-Wow. I admire your courage to just say it. Yeah, I am.

-Awesome!

“Miss Grimm! Miss Rhyse! Are you passing notes in my class?!” We’ve been caught. “Get up here, and read what you wrote, or I will!” Mrs. Wiles has turned red with anger.

Emmie saunters up to the front of the classroom. I awkwardly get up from my seat, and, almost tripping over my books on the floor, I make it up to the front of the classroom.

“Well, I said, ‘Hi. I noticed you looking. What were you looking at?” She says in her dreamy voice. “And then Cammie said…”

“I said I’d tell her if she told me her name.” I feel myself going red with embarrassment already.

“And I told her my name, and to call me Emmie instead.”

“And I asked why Emmie, and she explained.”

“I then asked what she was looking at, again.”

“I wrote that I liked her eyes.” I’m going even redder, I know it.

“She called me beautiful-”

“The End!” I finished.

But Mrs. Wilkes isn’t fooled. “What else?”

We’re both silent. She snatches the note from Emmie’s hands.

“Oh,” she says, obviously amused, and continues to say, “So, you’re both lesbians?”

“Yes,” Emmie says, obviously proud, “we are.”

There collective laughter from all sides of the room.

“Ladies,” our teacher says, “you both have detention after school all this week.”

She writes up our detention notices, all ten of them, and hands both of us five pieces of red paper. I look at it with red clouding my vision.

Cameron Grimm,

you have been given a detention.

Report to the cafeteria at 3 o’clock sharp on Monday, August 27.

I look at the others. They have the dates for the rest of the week.

“You may sit back down,” Mrs. Wilkes says to us. I shamefully lower my head and sit. I was forced completely out of the closet AND given detentions! But Emmie holds her head high as she folds the detention notices and tucks them into the top of her black dress. She then saunters back to her seat.

“Okay, now then. Back to modifiers…”

The rest of the class, about twenty minutes, goes by in a blur.

The bell rings. I jump, grab my books and purse, and run out the door and down the hall.

“Cam?! Cameron?!” I hear Emmie call my name down the hall. And then she’s next to me, holding my free hand. “We should hang out sometime…”

“Yeah, okay,” I tell her with a smile.

She lets go of my hand and turns the corner, and I keep walking straight, down the hall.