“You know, I think that I know a place where we can both be ourselves.”


“Well, it’s certainly not in this school.” Eve rolls their eyes but pulls their arms tight across their chest, not letting their eyes meet mine. “It’s like a conversion camp here. There’s no where to get out.”


“There’s one place.”


We wait, sitting on my bed in silence until the sun outside of our window goes down. As soon as the light flooding in through the crack under the door snuffs out, we crack open the door, looking both ways down the empty hall before making a run for it. I grab their hand to lead them and don’t drop their grip until we’re at the door to the laundry room.


“So… this isn’t suspicious at all,” they say as they run their fingers through the dust on the door.


“You could wait out here, if you want.”


Part of me wants Eve to agree so that I can go in and check for Seth. If Eve is already afraid of the laundry room in general, a raggedy stranger hiding out from the academy will be the last straw.


“No, no.” They grab the door knob, taking a deep breath before twisting it open. “I’ll be OK. It can’t be any worse than upstairs.”


I follow Eve in, stepping in front of them the moment I see Seth sitting atop one of the dryers, swinging his legs back and forth and grinning at me.


“So you’re back,” he says, eyes gleaming. “It’s lonely around here.”


“It’s just as lonely upstairs,” Eve adds. Their voice is quiet, shy in front of this unknown person, which I can’t blame them for.


Seth jumps off of the drier and sticks out his hand for Eve to shake. “Name’s Seth.”




They don’t end up shaking hands, because Eve keeps their hands busy by picking at the hem of their skirt.


“I think Eve may have figured out where we are,” I tell him, leaning back against the wall next to him.


“A conversion camp placed in Heaven?”


“Yeah,” Eve responds, breathless. They must be surprised that Seth already knows. I should be surprised too but it adds up.


“You were behind that door because they didn’t ‘fix’ you?”


He shrugs, turning his body slightly away from mine. “Yeah. Hell’s where you go when you refuse to stop being queer. I found my way back but I couldn’t get past that last door.” The tapping of his shoe makes echoes around the room, off time with the water dripping into puddles. “Not that I want to be back here either. I thought I could maybe find some place that’s not here or there.”


“So there’s no way out?”


He shrugs. “Not that I know of.”


“I know a way.”


All three of us jump, heads shooting over to the door that heads back to the academy. Castiel is standing in the dark stairwell before he steps into the yellowing light of the laundry room. He seems nervous to be here by the way he’s chewing on his lip but he also is holding his head up high.


“We can get out.”


  1. Trust Castiel to get everyone out
  2. Don’t trust Castiel, find a way out with the pre-established group
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About the Contributor
Harrison Ezar is a senior in his first (and last) year in Lincoln Park’s writing and publishing major. He writes for Park’s People on The SIREN. While this is his first time doing journalism, he is passionate about writing novels.

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