Population Control

Sami

Matthew, Dylan, and I went wondering around for a bit, trying on all the ridiculous hats, glasses, and Hawaiian shirts. When Matthew went to the bathroom, the two of us went to McDonalds to see if they had anything to drink. Instead of opening the door to go in the back, Dylan jumped the counter, "Always wanted to do that." He told me.

Going further back, there were large metal tanks and we both got cups, choosing a tank each. We flicked a latch and out came Vimto for me and Coke for Dylan. "You know," began Dylan, "one time McDonald's gave away millions of burgers for free. It was because of the Olympics, so-"

Without Matthew here, my thoughts raced to him. There was just something about him, something different. He plays football, absolutely loves it, yet he's into High School Musical. Those two things could not be more opposite, I smiled just thinking about him going home from football practice or a game and celebrating by singing Fabulous. There was only one other time I remember feeling this thing in my stomach and chest about someone. Hailey Dalton. She used to be in my computing class before she got expelled. She was so cool and defiant and herself, but still nice and patient with me.

Oh

Oh.

"Can I ask you something?" I unknowingly interrupted Dylan's story about the 1984 Olympics.

"Sure, anything." Besides Matthew, Dylan was the closest person I had here. Camille and I have been getting along well, but I've spent the last three to four years sitting next to this person in lessons.

Gosh, how do I start this conversation? You see, I may or may not have feelings for Matthew but he's the only other guy I've been interested in if you discount Louis Tomlinson, Andrew Garfield, and Matthew Baynton. Oh, this has been going on for a while. "This is about... well..." He needed to get to it: rip off the bandage, "I think I like Matthew."

"Right." He folded his arms, nodding, "Hold on, was that all? I thought you'd give me a speech or something. Did you genuinely not know?"

"But I still like girls!" I exclaimed, confused. So, so confused.

Dylan rested on the countertop between us as I slumped in the seat. "You are allowed to like both boys and girls. It's called being bisexual."

"Bisexual?" I asked, testing it out.

"Liking boys and girls. Or you could be pansexual – liking every gender." He must have seen my face drain its colour. There were labels? "Or," He came around, putting a hand on my shoulder, "you could just be you. You don't have to label anything."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Sitting next to me, he put an arm around me, "Thank you for telling me."

"You told me." But I hugged him back anyway.

We all met up at the entrance. It was now that I noticed the shelves were only half empty. Like, of the canned tomatoes and beans, only half the shelf was left, and not random ones taken, either. One row was gone, and another, and another, like chopping something in half. It didn't look like I was the only one who noticed, either, because all of us were looking at the shelves.

There was an air between Jason and Camille. They were close but uncomfortably far away. And they weren't looking at each other.

It was when we were all outside, that Camille stopped us all from walking for a second, turning around then continuing to walk backward. "To our right, just behind us there's a dead Rabid." She told us and Dylan went to turn around, "Don't look at it!" She hissed. "There are others here."

"The Donavan's?" Suggested Matthew.

She shook her head, "It's too far; we would have heard them." She forced herself into our cluster, "On three."

But I never made it three, too nervous to hear her count and wanting to be over and done with. At two, my eyes closed and I hit the ground.