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suffering sapphos

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Violet never saw the appeal in school dances. Hence why she never attended any in middle school — and made it a priority to be homeschooled for her high school years; everything would be too far away to attend.

So she wasn't quite sure why she accepted the plus one ticket from Lena to attend the Duckburg High Snow Ball.

Well, it was because Lena didn't want to go stag and quote-unquote, needed a partner in crime. Or essentially, a second set of eyes as she tried to spike the punch (with magic, not alcohol).

She continually lingered by the snack table, occasionally munching on stale chips. She didn't know any of the songs that the disc jockey was playing and she didn't have a date.

(Although, it was a bit amusing to watch poor Dewford walk around and try to dance with anyone — boy or girl — who seemed alone, and then instantly get rejected.)

But Violet had been here for half an hour and grown tired. She wasn't planning to spend long here anyhow; who in the world would spend two hours of their life in this cramped, overheated gym anyway?

She adjusted her sparkly, pale blue dress and pulled her phone out from a secret, homemade pocket. Heart-shaped.

Violet rolled her eyes at her mother's creative sentiment.

And dialed.

And a pick up on the second ring.

"Mother, can you please pick me up?" she asked — proud of herself for not letting her voice waver.

There was a sigh; "Vivi, is it your anxiety?"

Violet winced. No, it wasn't that. Not quite. But she did feel sick, and it wasn't the stale chips. "No," she said plainly.

Her father's voice was heard in the background.

"Oh, Sage, you're too much—"

"Ask her, Cindy,"

Her mother sighed; "Your father wants to know if kids are 'drinking any drugs' or 'doing the weedies', sweetie,"

Violet snickered a bit. "No, Mother and Father, no experimentation is going on at this well chaperoned dance," She switched her phone from one ear to the other. "I would wait for the boys great aunt to pick us up, but let's just say I don't trust her driving,"

She wouldn't tell her parents that the six of them rode in side cars on a motorcycle.

"So," Violet swallowed. Her throat was getting dry. "Can you please pick me up?"

"Of course, baby," her mother assured. "We'll be there in ten. Love you,"

Violet barely had time to mumble a "Love you too," and properly hang up — a surprisingly strong, and surprisingly short, arm yanked her to the side.

"Hey, nerdbird, what the hell are you doing on the sidelines?"

There were lots of things that Violet did not care for.

People other than her parents giving her nicknames. Sports metaphors. And unnecessary vulgarity. Gosalyn Mallard-McQuack somehow managed to incorporate all three in one simple sentence.

It wasn't that Violet didn't like her.

But they certainly weren't arranging sleepovers or making friendship bracelets.

She was merely an acquaintance. If that.

"I'm not a fan of the societal pressure of school dances," Violet said flatly. "I merely came to support Lena and her fear of appearing at one of these useless events alone,"

From behind the snack table with a bag full of charms and hexes, Lena hissed out a "Hey!"

Violet shrugged.

Gosalyn laughed, loud and body-shaking. "You're too much," she joked. "You gotta find someone to dance with. There's a guy from my Advanced Chem class you might be into,"

"Much appreciated. But I prefer the fairer sex,"

Now, Gosalyn was not a dumb jock. Violet had to give her that — what with being in such advanced classes. But it seemed she was about as observant as a brick wall.

Violet gestured to the rainbow necklace dangling around her neck.

Gosalyn nodded. "Same, dude. Don't worry, he's got a sister who's also here," She slammed Violet on the back like she was throwing her in to be quarterback.

Her strength nearly knocked Violet over too, but of course it went unnoticed. As she held onto the snack table to prevent falling, she muttered, "Actually, I was just leaving—"

And just as she said that, that was when she felt her heart plummet.

"Aw, but why?! We just got here!"

Violet felt the breath sucked out of her everytime she glanced at Webby this evening. Whether it was because of the incredibly sweet perfume that was a little too strong but could grow on her, or all of the sparkly jewelry and heels (as if the growth spurt didn't make her tall and gorgeous enough) — or...

Well, Violet had been doing her best to shove all those sort of thoughts away for a while now.

Weeks, that were turning into months.

"I've grown rather bored," Which wasn't a complete lie. "I should head out. My parents will be outside soon,"

And like the good friend she was, like good friends do for their friends who are happy with a new significant other, Violet looked at Gosalyn and gestured to Webby.

"She's all yours,"

Gosalyn chuckled like it was a joke.

Violet did not mean to express it as such.

She stepped away and let the two of them take hands, rushing to the dancefloor as Webby gushed about how she loved the new, catchy, sappy song blasting over the speakers.

Violet sniffled and would blame it on the stuffiness of the gym.

And the cold of the December evening, as she almost ran to her parents silver sedan parked by the entrance.

"Did you have fun, pumpkin?" her father asked.

Violet nodded wordlessly and fastened her seatbelt. She fiddled with her necklace absentmindedly as they pulled away, and that was when she finally mumbled, "Public school is infuriating. I'm glad I don't go to it,"

She didn't notice her parents glance to one another, a bit hesitant and unsure.

She kept blinking to make sure they didn't see her crying.