Brett had a great summer. He never thought he would meet someone like Sam. Someone who was… homeless. Their summer together was wonderful. They spent time at the food pantry, they slept in the park together, and they tried finding jobs, although all their attempts at this failed. Sam even helped Brett pick out a cardboard box that he now slept in behind Breadstix. Sometimes Sam would even go through the Breadstix dumpster with him at the end of the night to try and find some leftovers. Their summer had been great, but then Sam's father found a job, and everything changed.

It had worked for a few weeks after Sam moved. Brett had found a movie theater around the corner from Sam to keep his box behind, so they weren't separated. Brett just felt distant. He felt like Sam didn't quite get him anymore or maybe he just didn't get Sam anymore. Sam had a home, he had gotten a job (Which Brett enjoyed visiting him at, on the rare occasions he had enough money to get into the club) Brett had nothing but his box. Sure, Sam had offered to pull a few strings and try to get Brett an interview, but he knew he would never get the job. He didn't look like Sam did. Sam just didn't understand anymore. He had forgotten what it was like to be out on the streets. He had stopped going on the nightly dumpster dives and he never slept over at Brett's box anymore. He was pulling away, and Brett didn't know how long he could handle it.

One night, after Sam had gotten out of work, he offered to take Brett out for ice cream. At that moment, Brett knew he couldn't handle their relationship much longer. They had never brought things for each other before. They could barely buy things for themselves. Any gifts they exchanged were found in the street or in the dumpster. Brett still agreed to the ice cream though. Sam paid the cashier and they decided to go for a walk in the park while they ate their ice cream. Brett knew what he had to do.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" Sam replied, and Brett could tell that he had heard that worry in Brett's voice.

"We need to talk." Brett pulled them over to the nearest bench and sat them down. "I know we have been dating for a while, and these past few months have been the greatest of my life, but—"

Sam cut him off. "Brett, what are you trying to say?"

"I think we need to break up." He said it quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. "I've been thinking about it for a while now, just after you're dad got his job, actually." In the poor light, Brett could barely see the single tear roll down Sam's cheek, but he saw it. He defiantly saw it, and it broke his heart in to a million pieces, but he had to do this. "We've grown apart. You have a house and a job now, but I'm still just homeless Brett, the boy living in the box. The biggest change in my life has been moving from Breadstix to a movie theater." He maintained his stony facial expression. He couldn't cry. Not here, not now.

"We can work this out. We can find you a job and—and—my family will let you move in with us, I'm sure." Sam's voice was shaking and every few words he would let out a broken sob, but Brett maintained his mask. He was breaking though. He had to get out of there, away from Sam.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I just can't." On the last word, his voice cracked, and he couldn't hold it in any longer. He got up and ran, leaving Sam behind.

Brett ran three blocks to the movie theater. As he was heading around back to the back, he heard thunder. Normally when it rained he would take his box to the old train station because it was covered, but he had seen the police had been catching on to this, and he just didn't have the energy tonight. He settled down in his box, closed his eyes, and fell into a restless sleep with images of Sam filling is head.

He woke suddenly just a few hours later. The sun had not come up, but it was raining hard. Brett was already soaked, and it could not have started raining more than a few minutes before, because it had just woken Brett up. He didn't know what to do. His box was ruined, his clothes were soaked and he had no money. He noticed that the convenience store next door was open, so, with nowhere else to go, he ran in.

When Brett walked in there were only two other people in the store, the cashier and a man who appeared to be in his early 50's buying scratch off lottery tickets. Brett heard him say something about feeling lucky that day to the cashier, but she seemed uninterested.

"I'll prove it," Brett heard him say, "I had a dream! I was told to buy 5 scratch off tickets and I would win!" He gave the indifferent cashier her money and took his lottery tickets. The first one he scratched off was a winner. "Look at this!" he yelled "$10,000! I'm rich! I'm rich! I told you!" Then he noticed Brett, with his long hair he couldn't to cut and his shaggy clothes. "Here kid," the mad said, "you seem to need these more than me." He gave Brett his last 4 scratch off lottery tickets and left the store.

He scratched off three of the four tickets. His winnings totaled to ten dollars. Not much for most people, but he could buy dinner with that for a week. Then he scratched off the final ticket, just as Sam was walking through the door. He wasn't sure what he was more shocked about, the lottery ticket or Sam.

"Hey Brett," Sam said, "I heard the rain and went to check on you. I was worried." When Brett just stared at Sam in reply he walked over to see what Brett was holding. He was stunned when he saw what Brett had won. $500,000 "Brett," Sam said, "you're rich."

After several years, Brett was used to his wealth. He had invested half his money, and he tripled its amount. He asked Sam to move in with him, and not long after, they got married. They adopted two boys, Earl and Frank, named after two men that lived in the Lima Park and who Sam and Brett had met when they first started dating. Everything was perfect, but Brett still had that old cardboard box, just to remind him where he started.