Chapter 2

Maybe I’ve been headed towards this moment since the day in third grade I realized I was a lesbian and decided not to confess and be sent to therapy. Or maybe it was my freshman year that changed things, when I began hacking into forbidden LGBT chat rooms. I’d tried to act the way I should my whole life, but it never made a difference.

Actually, it wasn’t until I met Dawn that I stopped caring about being the perfect citizen. Now I can’t help but wonder if there’s anything I should have done differently.

I roll to my side, surprised that the man hasn’t come to get me yet, and desperately replay my memories. Maybe today the Peacemaker will overcome me, and I will be left with nothing.Part 1: The Past

1

The night my life changed, I hunched at the desk in my dark bedroom and turned on my computer tablet, illuminating a crucifix on the wall. Mom and Dad gave me the enormous bronze cross when I was seven years old. Every night Jesus gazed down at me with a bloody, mournful face. His crown of thorns seemed to sink deeper into his head if I stared at it long enough. I turned so I couldn’t see the accusing savior anymore.

Within minutes, I’d hacked into an illegal chat room that looked promising with a surprisingly near Internet Portal address. I typed my usual question.

Serene1: I’m not normal. Can anyone help me?

FemmeJim: No help for you.

Serene1: What’s going to happen to me?

Outcast: Banishment, if you’re serious. If not, this is no place for straights to play.

Enigma462: Let’s go to another chat, I’m not in the mood for this.

I watched as names disappeared, and put a fist to my forehead. This always happened.

But for once, there was another name left in the room.

Dawn360: What’s it like to live in a normal town?

I sat up straighter, wide-eyed and breathless. Finally!

Serene1: It’s okay, but would be a lot better if I were normal, too. When did you get banished?

Dawn360: I was born here.

Serene1: How is that possible in a gay community?

Dawn360: You’re funny. I have two dads and a surrogate mom.

Serene1: So are you normal? I mean, straight.

Dawn360: No, not straight or normal at all.

Serene1: What kind of gay are you? I mean, are you lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or something else? I’ve always thought it was weird that the government just calls all of those things ‘gay’

Dawn360: Yeah, it doesn’t make much sense to me, either. I’m a lesbian, but a lot of times I do just say I’m gay.

Serene1: How old are you?

Dawn360: 17

Serene1: Me too. Which community do you live in?

Dawn360: Community 17.

Serene1: Weird…I live less than a mile away, in the normal town Mapleville.

“Serenity, why aren’t you in bed?”

At the sight of Mom bursting through the door, I wiped my tablet blank. “I was checking my homework.”

“Get some sleep. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

I hurried to bed, pulling the covers to my chin despite the warm night, and stared at the ceiling, full of unexplainable feelings.

* * * *

Jesus was sparkling in the morning as sunlight streamed into my room. Few other things covered the white walls, just a couple baby pictures and a framed, cross-stitched Bible verse.

Sometimes I wished I could paint the walls black and scrawl cryptic, glow-in-the-dark messages on them. Instead, I put on my school uniform: a white blouse and black skirt. I pulled on pantyhose without tearing them this time and groaned before slipping on black leather shoes. The shoes were uncomfortable as hell, but at least the heels weren’t any higher. According to my school, high heels made girls look inappropriate.

I wandered down the hall to the kitchen, where my parents were eating breakfast.

“Good morning, honey,” Dad said.

“Hi,” I mumbled, feeling guilty about the night before.

Mom smiled. “So grumpy when you wake up; you’ve been that way ever since you were little.”

I grinned as I slid into my chair. “I never want to go to sleep, and then I never want to get up.”

After breakfast, I forced my long hair into order. I’d just taken out multiple braids the night before, so I really had to work at it with leave-in conditioner and a pick, letting it hang long and naturally curly. Then, like every morning, Dad walked me to school on the way to his job in the office at the Mapleville Church of Jesus. He was a political organizer.

“Have a good day, dear,” he said.

“Thanks, love you.”

As I walked through the body scanners, I finally had a chance to reminisce about the night before. A swarm of identically dressed girls, and boys who all wore white shirts and black pants, streamed past. Boring.