- TWO YEARS LATER -

When your parents catch you watching porn – when your parents walk in on you jacking off to porn – when your homophobic parents walk in on their son jacking off to two men fucking each other –you know how the story goes. Hell breaks loose, the neighbors start wondering what the hell is causing all the ruckus, and a once beloved child is exiled to the streets.

That first week was rather traumatic. I spent a good chunk of it hiding away, crying. My family –all I had in the world— didn't want me anymore. That life was all I knew, and everything was suddenly uprooted. I was sixteen and homeless, all because of something I couldn't change: something I would if I could. They told me not to come back to the clinic, either; that I wasn't welcome to work there anymore. That made two hard blows in one night. I didn't even have time to pack my bags, wasn't allowed back in my bedroom. Heading down the stairs that night, stumbling weakly, I knew I may never see my room or anything in it, or my home, or my family ever again.

I took what money I had out of the bank before my parents could empty my funds, the money I'd earned at work. I spent it sparingly –a cheap motel room across town, and dollar-store food and toiletries. Those were what I deemed necessities, but it didn't last long. What little I had quickly ran out, and I was faced with cold reality. No money, no job –no food, no shelter to be found. I was walking down the sidewalk one day, freezing cold and wet from rain. Everything was slowly starting to sink in. I didn't know what I was going to do –how was I going to survive?

I lifted my chin and wiped at my eyes. I knew there were probably hundreds of homeless people in this city alone: the mentally ill, drug addicts at rock bottom, families –families with little children— and teenagers all on their own in the world. I had no right to snivel like this. I told myself I'd make it, somehow.

I'd wandered the city all night in search of shelter, and by morning found nothing of the sort. Desperate and tired, I tucked into the alley between two tall buildings. The stench behind the dumpster was almost unbearable, but it was warm enough that if I covered myself with some cardboard like a blanket, I would probably be able to get some much needed sleep.

"The jackass must've thrown it in here."

I woke up to a voice and nearby rustling. I blinked my eyes open drearily, and at length got to my feet, peeking over the edge of the dumpster to see what was going on. There was someone inside rummaging through the bags of trash, looking for something, though I couldn't imagine what.

I cursed my urge to help people as it settled in, and I voiced concern to the searching stranger. "Um, what are you looking for? Maybe I could help find it."

"I'm sure some asshole I was with last night took my wallet and threw it in here on his way out." He sounded angry enough, but spoke kindly to me, probably grateful for the offer to help in the search. "You can help look, if you want. Tannish leather, 's got my name written in Sharpie on the outside."

He looked up to me, piercing blue eyes peeking through matted black hair. I was taken aback for a moment. He was far too familiar for it to be a coincidence, but too nervous to ask for his name, I'd have to find it, instead. And so I started digging through the garbage bags from where I stood on the outside.

"Too dainty to get in and dig?" he asked sharply, sort of teasingly. I blushed. Yes, I was still too new to this kind of life to get right down and dirty with the trash, and his words wouldn't change that too soon. I didn't climb in like he probably wanted to; there didn't seem to be room inside, anyway.

I was more than a little surprised to be the one who actually found it, squeezed between the rusted wall of the container and a hefty black trash bag. I pulled it out and looked it over a minute. By his description, it was definitely his, but the name I found didn't match what I'd been hoping for. He was still digging, unaware I'd found it, when I asked, "Your name is Kitten?"

His head shot up, a hand shot out and grabbed it from me. His eyes lit up at having found it, and his shoved it into the back pocket of his tattered jeans. "Uh, yeah, what of it?"

"Um, it's just…" I had to think for a moment –and could only think for a moment— about whether or not to bring up that time we might have met, if he was indeed the kid I'd found outside the clinic. "Nothing, I thought you looked like someone I met a while ago. I worked at a clinic, and one night I found someone waiting outside in the cold, needing to be tested for STDs. I took him inside and we talked for a while. I wonder where he is now…" I looked at him a while, taking in his response.

He just stood on his hands and knees for a moment, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. He sat back on his heels and swallowed hard. "No… That- That was me." He laughed awkwardly, a small smile remaining on his lips.

I grinned back at him, hoping to have finally found a friend in this new and awful situation. He could very well prove to be my saving grace, by all accounts. "Good to see you again, Phil."

We went to McDonald's, his treat. Once we sat down –we both relished the warmth— Phil was quick to start a casual interrogation. "What are you doing, Dan? Why were you in that alley, sleeping behind a dumpster?" He seemed genuinely concerned, which I was grateful for. I took a bite of my small burger and decided to answer honestly.

"My homophobic parents caught me getting off to gay porn." I figured that would be just about explanation, but just in case, I decided to follow it up. "They kicked me out about a week ago."

"You weren't there last night."

"No, until yesterday I was able to get a little motel room, with the money I made at the clinic. The money's all gone now, and I just needed a place to sleep for a little bit." I popped a fry into my mouth, and noticed he hadn't touched his lunch at all, but didn't mention it. "Why, you were there last night?" He nodded silently, tugging his too thin jacket tighter around his too thin body. "What for?"

He sighed softly and stood up, offering me his fries, which I declined and he threw everything out. "Just… Just stick with me, okay?" His words were shaky but his face was set and confident. "You're too amateur to be on your own yet. I'll keep you from dying of cold or hunger." He reached out a hand to offer it to me, and with little hesitation, I took it.