The Queer Rebels

Chapter 3: Evading

My feet ache as I pound the pavement, trying to go fast but not look suspicious.

I left the underground station a little over an hour ago, having made my decision to get Marcy.

If everything goes perfectly, I should be able to make the round-trip before the orderly's shift is over at five. That gives me just over two more hours.

Hopefully Marcy won't take much convincing.

A tram glides down the center of the boulevard and comes to a stop at the corner. If I picked up my pace, I could hop on and be at the dorms in less than ten minutes.

But I don't dare.

If I use my ID, it will let the authorities know where I am.

The orderly said if I left the station, it would be a death sentence.

But to kill me, the authorities will have to catch me. And I won't let them.

I've walked these streets my whole life. I can do this. I have to do this. Because there is no way that I'm leaving the city without Marcy. At least not without telling her where I am going.

How could I just disappear on her? We've spent every night the past six years sleeping in the same room. She knows all my secrets, and I know all of hers. How she needs three pillows to sleep comfortably, and how she always sneaks candy before bed. I know that she always tries to smile with her lips shut because she hates her crooked teeth, but she's actually the most beautiful when she's laughing hard.

And I know that she thinks she can do everything better than anyone else, and she's usually right.

I just hope I can convince her to come with me. To escape the only place we have ever known for the promise of something better.

I've had plenty of time to think about what I will say to her, how to explain what happened, and how to ask her to come with me. But I can't think of any words that don't sound insane. What's happened feels too outrageous.

Every time I try to imagine how the conversation might go, it seems more and more hopeless. Hey Marcy, you know how all our parents and teachers have taught us that the constitution promises everyone a Choosing Day? Well, it's a lie, and some strangers told me about a place we can run away to.

That doesn't even convince me, and I witnessed everything firsthand.

Lost in my own thoughts, I almost run into an open door ahead of me. I stop short as a large man leaves a take-away restaurant holding a brown bag with grease stains spreading on the bottom. I let him cross my path, and he grunts a thanks. The scent of fried food stabs at my stomach and I realize that, in addition to my feet being sore, I'm also starving.

My last meal was breakfast, and I was so nervous and excited to go to the Choosing Day Center that I barely ate two bites.

Good thing we have a stash of snacks in our dorm room.

Distracted by my growling stomach, I almost step in a pile of dog shit, but I sidestep at the last second. My shoulder bumps into someone, and I turn my head and mutter an apology.

I make eye contact with the person I ran into–a middle-aged woman wearing a floral shirt and khaki blazer–but rather than just nodding and continuing on her way; she squints at me suspiciously.

My heart seizes. Is she an undercover officer? Has she recognized me? Or worse, are they advertising my disappearance on the news?

I pull my hood over my head and hurry along, willing myself to fade into the flow of pedestrian traffic. I have about a mile left on this main road before I turn right and navigate through the campus that surrounds our dorms. As long as I don't see anyone who knows that today is my 20th birthday, things will be fine.