“Gas station? Other guys? Dumpster?” I’m not quite sure which of those three things freaked me out the most.

“Yes, gas station to use the bathroom and clean ourselves up. Other guys as in the older homeless guys who fight to get the bagels when the bakery puts them in the dumpster. What sucks is the baker knows we wait for them, he could just set the bag beside the dumpster so we wouldn’t have to dig through the trash to get to them,” Cole explained. I could feel the bile rise in my throat. But I was so damn hungry, and with no money, we had to take what was available.

“How do you guys live like this? How do you eat when there aren’t any leftover bagels thrown out?” I couldn’t help the tears at that point. “This is terrifying and disturbing, and it’s only my first day.”

“Would you rather go home to another ass beating? One that may end with your death?” Cole asked me, clearly pissed at my outburst. I couldn’t help it, my emotions were all over the place, and I was scared shitless.

“That’s not an option.”

“Where’s home?” Kyle questioned.

“Montana. But I was told to never come back,” I whispered.

“You musta done something really awful,” Kyle added, staring at Cole. His eyes sayingthis guy is gonna be trouble.

Could I tell them? Would my secret be safe, or would they gang up on me and beat me too?“Nothing illegal, at least I don’t think it was.” I wasn’t comfortable sharing the details with them, but by the same token, I wasn’t sure I could afford to lose what they were offering me at this point.

“Spill it,” Cole insisted, crossing his arms across his chest while assuming a protective brother stance. I couldn’t blame him, he was the one making sure these kids were kept safe and taken care of as best he could from what I could tell.

“I um…I dressed in girls’ clothes and danced around my room. I was alone, or at least I thought I was. Then my dad came in and beat me up. I woke up in the hospital the next day. When he picked me up after they released me, he took me to the bus station, handed me a ticket and told me to never come back.” There, I said it in a heated rush. If they wanted to kick me out of the group, then so be it. I just hoped they didn’t.

“Wow, so your dad kicked you out for being gay?” Jason shocked me not only by saying those words aloud but by speaking for the first time since I’d met him.

Gay…

I guess I’d never really given any label much thought. Sure, the bullies in the hallway at school would say it to me, well really yell it when they pushed me into the lockers as they passed me by. I was more bothered by the physical aspect of their daily assaults and not so much focused on the verbiage. My father’s verbal assault hurt far more than theirs did anyways. At this point in my life, I’d not found myself attracted to anyonemale or female, so my sexuality had yet to come into play. Especially considering the repeated molestations I’d been subjected to, sex was the furthest thing from my mind. Music and dancing were my escape from reality, my only happy thoughts.But gay, I’ll just tuck that away for now.

“We’ve seen a lot while we’ve been out here on our own,” Cole began, pulling me from my less than happy reflection. “Some more than others.” He eyed Jason in a way that told me there was a lot more to his story. “Okay guys, let’s go.”

And just like that, it was over. No judgment, no kicking me out of the group, no getting my ass beat for being different. Maybe, just maybe, sad as it may be, I’d found others who’d accept me the way I am.

During the walk to the gas station, Cole told me they try not to hit the same place twice in one week. The owners get mad, and they don’t want to have the cops called and risk getting their family torn apart and thrust back into the throes of the less than stellar foster care system. Four of us waited behind the building where the restroom was located while Jason went in to ask for the key. When he came back out, we each took turns taking care of business and washing up as best we could.

Once I was secured behind the locked door, I eased my coat off, hanging it on the hook on the backside. Gingerly lifting my shirt, I eyed my injuries in the graffiti-riddled mirror hanging above the sink. I’d not looked at my body since leaving the hospital, and even then it was brief as I’d changed out of the paper thin hospital gown. The angry colors my bruises held stole my breath away. Some were more pronounced than others due to massive amounts of swelling in the surrounding tissue. My eye was opened no more than a slit, the lid itself was a blackened mess. The dried blood on my upper lip made the split in it look worse than it actually was. At least I’d hoped that was the case since they hadn’t felt the need to stitch it. Any father who could do this to their own kid wasn’t a father at all. As that realization sunk in, for the first time in my life I didn’t feel fearonly anger. Whatever the streets of Seattle had to dish out couldn’t be any worse than what I’d already endured.Could it?

Wincing, I slid my shirt back in place before washing my face as gently as I could with the rough paper towels the gas station stocked. After running my fingers through my hair, attempting to try and tame the matted mess it currently was, I removed my jacket on and unlocked the door. In my rage-fueled fog, I pulled the door open with more force than I’d intended, as it hit the wall with a thud and bounced. Every pair of eyes in the group were staring back at me.

“Everything okay?” Cole questioned with a cocked brow.

“Yeah, sorry. Just ugh, just really pissed off.”

“You spend ten minutes in the bathroom and come out angry? What gives?” Jason had a point, no one knew what I was thinking let alone had done with my time alone in there.

“Sorry guys, this is the first time I’ve seen my body since I left the hospital. Let’s just say my father is a horrible excuse for a human being.” I wrapped my arms around my torso, in a protective manner. No one said a word. I’m sure on some level they’d all experienced injuries caused by another person and shared in my shame.

Jason took the key back inside, and when he returned, we headed down the street to the bakery. The coast was evident as we entered the alleyway behind it, and much to Cole’s surprise the baker had actually set the bag beside the trash bin rather than in it. Quickly, we snagged it and left, not wanting to run into any others seeking the same prize and walked across the street to the park. Tommy jogged over to the drinking fountain, filling up the water bottle before joining us at the picnic table.

“How did all of you find each other?” I asked aloud as I was handed the bag of bagels, retrieving a random one.

“Well, like I said before,” Cole began. “Kyle, Tommy, and I came from the same foster home. Robert and Jason, we met kinda the same way we met you. Except one was in the park sleeping on a bench, and the other was digging through a trash can.”

The group intently watched Cole as he recounted their story.

“We’ve been together as a group ever since, going on about six months now.”

I looked around the table, every mouth was filled with day old bagels. None denying Cole’s rendition of how they met, so I took it at face value. “How old are you?” I asked, staring wide-eyed at him. He couldn’t be much older than I was. This was a considerable weight he’d taken upon himself, becoming an adult and parental figure at such a young age. No child should have to do that. He should be worrying about dating and term finals, not where everyone’s next meal would come from.

“I’m seventeen, Kyle is thirteen and Tommy’s seven,” he said, after taking a drink of water.