The Lesbian Gene (Lesbian, Gay, GirlxGirl)

Chapter 7: Debate

But she was already reaching out for something. Meds, as I could see through my half-squinted eyes. She was opening a small packet of them. "I don't know how many you should drink, or when you should drink it," she said. "But I think the ones we'd given you are already wearing off."

Hanz decided to help by giving me a bottle of water, followed by a weak smile.

No, forget that. It wasn't weak at all. It was guilt.

"I'm sorry," he trailed as I took a swig of liquid, the water gliding down my parched throat. In front of me, Hanz scratched at his short hair. "I don't know why my moms would act like that. Like at all. They're normally very gentle. This—" A frown etched on his face, making him look older than a high school student. "This is definitely not normal of them. I don't know why one of them would even get you shot. And you weren't. . . You weren't getting it on with my other mom in their bedroom, were you, Pax?"

"No. . ."

"Yeah, I guess."

And just like that, we were back to the topic that we weren't even aiming for. Breakfast or not. Pretend bonding or not. But nobody looked hungry anymore. Even Hanz, who'd suggested that we eat in the first place.

Without making a word, the three of them went closer to me, to discuss what this mayhem that was happening.

Neil started the unofficial meeting. "What do we know so far?" he said. "Other than we can't contact anyone. And there's no phone in this effing store too. I checked."

"Men chased us," Audra said.

"My mothers were acting strange," Hanz supplied.

"And. . . Those people in lab coats wanted to inject this liquid on us, and they would even try to hurt us to do so." I muttered under my breath. Normally, I wouldn't say something out loud like this, but it was needed. If we were to figure this out, I might as well chime in. Our lives were at stake.

Audra's eyes flickered to me for a second, then went back to Neil. "Blackwell," she said. "And the government, maybe. Do you think this is like the Middle East?"

"Middle East?" Hanz said, looking like this was the first to hear of this.

"So much for relying on everyone to have seen the news," Neil remarked. "Weren't they saying something about Steven Blackwell, the discoverer of the Gay Gene and the proponent of the so-called cure, and how he was in the Middle East, prior to getting back in our country? I heard out there, he was testing the cure on people."

"By people, you mean?"

"Yes," Neil replied darkly. "Everyone in the Middle East, according to the news, had apparently agreed to take it."

"Without so much as a fight," Audra supplied.

A sharp pain— this time in my stomach, threatened to make me barf out the styrofoam-tasting breakfast I'd eaten just a while ago. Yes, according to the news, people in the Middle East had agreed to the cure. They supported their government's wishes too.

But here, where we were, people were confident that we wouldn't have to go through that because we had our laws to protect us. That's why there were rallies on the streets. It was both a call, and a mourning for everyone who had to undergo the cure, no matter how much they agreed to it.

Hanz, whose face was masked with the fury I felt myself, pounded his fist against his palm. "That's just weird. My mothers wouldn't agree to such cures." His tone was pure conviction. "Olivia and Emily— you hadn't seen them while I was growing up. They loved each other. I based my whole belief of relationships on theirs, even when I'm not gay myself."