Chapter 2

Born into privilege, I could pursue anything I wanted in college. So why Sociology? Why not Economics, Biochemistry, or Business Analytics? I've been asked by my parents the same question, and my answer had always been a repeat; I understood myself in every way a person should know herself. It was to my grief that people and society in general didn't share the same reality. Because Sociology played an integral part in helping people understand mankind, pursing such a course could be my way of helping others realize themselves and their potentials.

"Basically, you're telling me that you're going to spend three to four months doing a study about lesbians," Lulu said. That was what she meant anyway. Most people would hear something like, "Vesicahhly, yu av telling meee dat yu av goweeeng tu sphend tree tu fo month dooing ah stuhdy about les-bee-ans. . ."

Her family had been in constant move since she was born before settling to their present home. Because of that she adopted a weird accent that threw people off guard when speaking to her for the first time. I was used to it. Found it endearing even. We've been thick as thieves since high school after all.

"We, Lulu," I corrected. "We, not only me, are going to spend the rest of summer vacation researching and interviewing subjects." A flight attendant passed by, dragging with her a cart. "Excuse me," I said. The attendant stopped, affixing a polite smile on her face. It was tempting to ask her for the most expensive wine they could offer. But I wasn't in the Roth's private plane or first class. Some things were best left for later. "Can I have some water please?"

After gulping down a glass and the attendant had rolled her cart away, Lulu said, "You used to hate flying economy. I remember the time when we went to France and you blamed Casper for getting the wrong tickets intentionally. You didn't speak to him for a week."

I leaned closer to her. "This is all part of our new life, Lu. The next few years are going to be hard for us if we don't start adapting to the environment. This is my simple way of submerging myself in normal life. I figured if I'm going all out with the study I'm making, I might as well change my own lifestyle. We're going to be anonymous from now on."

"No using your surname for once?" she asked dubiously. I shrugged. "Get out of here. I don't believe you." She pushed my face and all of its sincere expression away. "You're really serious about this book?"

"Yes," I said. She had no reason to doubt me. I was in this 101% "And it won't stop with just that. I'm also dishing out a weekly summary about my findings on a blog, like a journal. There will be pictures. There will be supporting evidence. It's all part of Sociology."

"You're crazy when you have an idea," she said resignedly. "Tell me something before I sleep the next hour away. Why are you doing this? Why choose that subject matter? You could have used anything, but you still went with lesbians."

I tapped my chin. "Aside from its relevance and how it will help us understand sexuality in general? Nothing in particular. It's Casper who's passionate about them. Consider this project a chance to indulge my older brother and leave my mark on the world." Lulu's eyes sparkled with interest. She'd been crushing on Casper since the 8th grade when she saw him skinny dipping in the pool. She'd always say that it was his personality she was attracted to, not his six pack and face. Yeah right. "Go to sleep, Lu. We'll talk about this when we get settled in the house."

Everything about Lulu at this point would be sketchy to you, reader. I had introduced you to her voice, but you needed more than that to go on. Each of us had a Lulu, a best friend. Yours could be a tall, black haired girl who loved to sing in the shower for an imaginary audience. It could also be a brunette who had smaller eyes and was better at everything than you, especially math. My Lulu was a dark skinned beauty with a defined jaw, brown eyes, and a shy smile. She was my Watson. The moon to my sun. The no to my yes. The hoe don't to my do it. You got the picture.

She was there when I rallied a campaign about the injustice that the cafeteria lady was getting from the higher ups and the dishwashers. She was there, rubbing my back sympathetically next to the toilet bowl, as I regurgitated more than five hotdogs and their corresponding buns after winning the contest. She was there when I stood before the crowd on graduation day, delivering my valedictorian speech.

For each blunder I made, Lulu had been there saying, "I told you so." Of course she was also there warning me beforehand. If only I wasn't too hardheaded to listen.

She was suppose to take a year off after high school, until I convinced her to settle with me to my new home, near my new college, and my new life. It was always easier to face things when Lulu was with me, not to mention I needed a Watson to my Sherlock, especially now that I have decided to start a project.

"Dibs on the attic," Lulu said once we reached the new house. I dropped the suitcases on the ground, staring around my domain. Our clubhouse for the next four years or so, depending on whether I'd take any other courses or masters degree. The place was small yet comfortable looking. Daddy had taken care of all the details before we got here. It was among the last things I would have my parents do for me. I didn't want them to interfere with my life as a college student.

"You do know that it's not called an attic, right? It's a second floor," I said, shutting the door behind me. Lulu had made her way to the windows so she could open the lovely shutters I have so obsessed about when buying the house. Light streamed inside, making the place look more cozy and alive. I could already imagine us cooking on the country style kitchen with its blue tiled backsplash, or talking on the white sofa, one foot dangling on the side as we munched on cheat meals.

Lulu poked her head out of the window and inhaled deeply. "Hello world!" she yelled. "We're going to have so much fun here."

I pulled her back before we had attracted the neighbor's attention. "They're going to think we're weirdo's," I chastised. "On our first day. Go to your room, young lady, and think about the repercussions of your actions."

Lulu turned to me, eyebrows raised. She was wrong if she thought she was going to win against me. We had a stare off. Her nose twitched. "Eeeeee!" we both screamed, jumping up and down, clasping our hands together. Okay, that probably wasn't the reaction you expected. But what could we do? This was our first day away from home, the trip to France, New Zealand, Cambodia, Philippines, and so many others from before, not included. We had newfound freedom for the first time. No parents for years.

"Which room should we fix first?" she asked. I pointed to her bags, forgotten on the floor where we left it. "Mine it is." Most of what we brought were personal trinkets. The things we really needed, like clothes and extra stuff, were transported beforehand by moving crews, arranged meticulously by helpers that daddy hired. "Help me with this," Lulu said, taking one end of her big suitcase. I took the other end and almost dropped it. "Careful," she warned. "Something may explode."

"What's inside?" I said suspiciously. Lulu faced forward so she was pulling the luggage while I trudged after her on the stairs. I didn't break a sweat from the heavy lifting. It was nothing compared to carrying a grown man in Cambodia. For our brief stay there, the monks have taught us a thing or two, sometimes verging on the extreme when they felt like it. The old leader in particular had a bad habit of making me carry him when I was too cocky for my own good. Modesty was still absent when the training was over, but it had made me strong. "Answer my question," I nagged.

Once we reached the second floor landing, Lulu dropped on her knees, unzipping the luggage. Books, bottles, rolled papers, and thingamajigs spilled out. I groaned. This again. "I had to take it with me," she justified. "My parents would have dumped them in the trash when I left."

I took a voodoo doll from the lot. A brown cottony thing with pins and needles stuck on its body. It was her prized possession. "See this right here is the reason why Casper doesn't notice you," I said. "If it weren't for this, you could have been a happy couple a long time ago." I dropped the doll back to the bag. "Tell me the truth. Is this the reason why you're taking a year off from school? I heard from your mom that you were accepted."

Lulu squeezed her things inside the bag and quickly zipped it close, away from my scrutiny. "Yes, no, maybe," she struggled to answer. "I'm trying to find myself. You should understand of all people. You're always talking about helping society figure out themselves. I'm doing the same."

"With voodoo dolls?"

She dragged the heavy suitcase on the floor by herself. "It wouldn't hurt if Casper falls for me along the way," she mumbled. That's what I didn't get about her. She could steal his heart without resorting to this strangeness. Lulu stopped in front of a door. "This is me. I'm going to ask you nicely to stay away from this place so you won't get creeped out by my things. Do you need help with your bags?"

I showed her my arms. "You've forgotten about the monk," I boasted. While I was suffering from the Cambodian's silly punishment, she and Casper were on the side, sitting on gigantic rocks, watching me while sipping their fruit juices. Not just any fruit juices, mind you, but freshly squeezed ones from the mountains. How was that fair? And where did they get the straws? The place was supposed to be zero reception and minimal grandeur. Oh well. Past was past. "We'll do grocery shopping later or tomorrow for the house. Ready yourself."

"I'm jet lagged," she whined. "Can't this wait?"

"The thought doesn't thrill me, but there's no rest for the weary." I went to the stairs, prepared to depart for my own things, one hand on the wooden railing. "Lulu?"

"Yeah?"

"It's important to me that you're here," I said. "Makes things a bit easier."

She snorted. "Why do I get the feeling that you're going to do something incredibly bad and I'm going to be stuck in the middle of it like always?" She'd said the same words when we were vacationing in Hawaii once. It was right before I pushed her off the cliff. She might have broken her leg that day, and I might have had to push her on a wheelchair for three months before she fully healed, but who was judging?

"Don't entertain that kind of feeling, Lu. It's bad luck. Not that I believe in those things. You're the superstitious person here. Anyway, thanks for coming."

"You don't need to thank me. I won't be much help anyway," she said. "You're Scotland Roth, jack of all trades, master of everything. Your obsession with your current projects is so scary, I'll just get in the way." I gave her a brief smile before continuing down the stairs. Everything she said about me was true, except for that bit about me not needing her. A protagonist would be nothing without her sidekick. Vice versa for her own story.

I went to each room after, taking note of my surroundings. Apart from the kitchen and living room, there was a study. It was going to be my command center, I thought as I went to the middle of the room, running my fingers on the smooth wooden desk. There, I would write my research and possible conclusions. My target time frame for conducting interviews and data gathering would be four months before school started. Studies should be longer, but I could always add information in the coming years.

Once I had decided that the house was a good environment for us, I went upstairs again, to the room that Lulu didn't occupy, just across the hall. It was simpler and smaller in comparison to my old one in my parent's house, like a broom closet. However, it was still bigger than the dorm rooms the university would provide. It was best if I got used to it as soon as possible. That's why I was here this early. So I wouldn't look like a pampered freak next to the other students.

Last night before sleeping, I talked to the house helps to ask them about the things I should know about in the house. Ridiculous questions like how to operate what, and which was which. It was funny when you thought about it. Funnier still that I used the remaining hours watching videos about the society I would be a part of. Being a Roth was to be separated from that for most of my life.

Speaking of society, my personal project wasn't to be ignored. Jumping on the bed, I opened my laptop and pulled up the Word document. On the first page I typed, 'To be a Lesbian, by Scotland Roth.' Enter. Enter. Indentation.

'Society has different views on the subject of sexuality. For a specific group, it is brought by environmental factors, such as the people you encounter every single day, and the family you grew up in. Another minority views it as a choice, while a broadminded few attributes it to genetics.'

'In my search for the truth, we will answer the question, What does it take to be a lesbian? Whether it is caused by an environmental effect, a subject of choice, or a matter of genetics, we will find out with the use of fact-finding, fieldwork, and total scrutiny, backed up with years of research by leading experts. As an outsider, I will keep an open mind and will not be subject to bias. It is all in hopes of finding an answer, and helping society understand itself so we can take a grand step into the future.'