Читать книгу Calli - Jessica Lee Anderson - Страница 9

THE DAY AFTER THE MELTDOWN

Friday, April 18

IF LUPUS WERE CONTAGIOUS, I would’ve faked sick like I had the inflammatory autoimmune disorder this morning to ditch school. Oh, my joints! My skin! My fever! But I wasn’t going to let Cherish win that battle. She thinks I’m just accepting things and sulking like I normally do.

“Everything will be fine, just wait and see,” my best friend, Delia, says as we walk down the hall together. But the only thing I see is about five people gathered around my locker.

Dub is scribbling something on the face of it. “What are you doing?” I yell. First the kiss, and now this? The crowd turns to look at me. A jerk named Gunner points his phone in my direction and takes a photo. Delia flicks him off.

When I’m closer, Dub moves in front of the locker in an attempt to block the black marks scrawled all over it. “I didn’t want you to see this, especially after what happened yesterday,” he says. I step close to him so I can get a better look at what he’s trying to protect me from.

Delia gasps.

I’ve been friends with Dub for so long that part of me wants to bury my head against his clean, familiar smelling body and forget all of this. And then I see a drawing of a large bull with a ring through its nose and the letters “CALLI IS ABULLD Y.”

Dub had used his pen to cross out the “k” and the “e” at the end of the sentence.

Gunner laughs and takes another cell pic. We’ve never gotten along. . . . Did he write this? I doubt he’d be documenting my humiliation right in my face if he had, plus there’s a more likely suspect. Cherish stayed late after school yesterday, supposedly looking for me. I’m not sure how she could’ve pulled off defacing my locker with teachers roaming the halls, but the girl’s sneaky and has motive. She always says how weird it is that I have two moms, and how I’m probably a “lez like them.”

This means war.

As if two pictures weren’t enough, Gunner snaps another. I can only imagine where these photos will end up. On the Internet for the entire world to see I’m sure.

It’s like Dub can read my mind because he straightens up and tells Gunner, “Put that freaking thing away.”

Gunner scowls in return. “Or what?”

Dub responds by shoving him. Gunner’s phone flies out of his hand, and Dub dives after it. He seizes the phone and presses a few buttons.

Delia’s mouth is still hanging open, and the rest of the students around us back off like they’re uncertain what Dub might do next. I’m confident the pictures are long gone and Gunner won’t dare take another. I appreciate that Dub’s looking out for me, but half the campus has probably already seen the damage. Not to mention the damage Dub caused me yesterday.

“Give me my phone back,” Gunner says in a demanding voice. I notice that when he extends his hand, it’s shaking the slightest bit.

Dub makes a fist around Gunner’s phone and raises his arm like he’s going to toss it down the hallway.

I pull at his elbow. “Dub, don’t.” His skin feels just as familiar as it smells.

“What’s going on?” an approaching teacher asks.

Dub hands Gunner’s phone back like there was never an issue between the two of them and explains the situation. “Someone messed with my girlfriend’s locker.”

Gunner doesn’t say a thing. A few other people make comments to support what Dub has said, but their voices fade as I replay Dub’s comment with an emphasis on the word “girlfriend.” He still thinks of me as his girlfriend after what happened yesterday?

Before I have a chance to mull this over, the teacher moves forward to inspect the graffiti. This teacher has no idea who I am, which makes the humiliation even worse.

I sneak away, and Delia follows. I glance back at Dub and we lock eyes for a moment. It’s hard to read his expression, but I want him to still care about me as much as he used to.

Delia and I stay in the bathroom even though the tardy bell has just rung. She’s coloring on fresh eyeliner and eye shadow for me after my first application smeared off post–locker incident.

“I can’t believe Dub was so pissed!” Delia says.

I’m more surprised about my vandalized locker than I am about Dub’s response. He’s always looked out for me. When I try to explain this to Delia, she says, “Shh ! Calli, close your eyes.”

Why would anyone do something so mean? Mom and Liz love each other. I’m their daughter. What have we ever done?

Not like this is the first time I’ve had to deal with similar crap.

When I attended the Academy of the Holy Rosary in elementary school, there was a big stink because some parents thought I might morally corrupt the other students since I had two “intrinsically disordered” moms. I dropped out and went to public school.

I’d hoped that everyone would be more accepting in public school, but I was delusional. When people found out I had two moms, there were all kinds of rumors about them, and me too. Even Dub assumed I was a lesbian based on the things he’d heard. None of them was true, of course—I’ve always been attracted to the opposite sex.

“Stop squinting,” Delia says.

“Fine.”

When we walk out of the bathroom a few minutes later, the hall is empty except for a janitor who’s scrubbing the front of my locker. I have to give it to Dub for taking care of this disaster, though I refuse to forget that he created yesterday’s.

I have a chance to thank him after first period when he’s waiting for me in the hallway. He has my entire schedule memorized, and he usually walks me to all my classes.

“Calli, you should know I feel horrible about everything’s that happened.” Dub tries to hug me, but I push him away even though it’s incredibly hard to do.

“Thanks for looking out for me, but it doesn’t change the fact that you kissed Cherish. I need my space.” And just like I walked away from the scene this morning and ran home yesterday, I leave Dub standing there. This time I don’t look back at him.