With some experience mixed in.
Part 1 - Introduction
Chapter 1: Bad Luck
It wasn't Sam's lucky day. He was supposed to be at college early morning, and that wasn't going to happen by the look of things.
The Greyhound bus broke down at a mid-point rest-stop in western Pennsylvania. It had been over an hour late to pick up its passengers from the sorry excuse of a bus station in Harrisburg. The last bus of the evening and the only chance for Sam to reach his destination.
"I called dispatch, but I don't think they can get here till morning." The bus driver announced to the crowd in general.
"You're welcome to stay at the rest stop. The food court will close in... about an hour, but the station and convenience store will be open all night."
Displeased murmur waved through the bus's cab.
"This bus won't start, and there's neither electricity nor heat." the old man continued unabated. "Your luggage is locked below, but I will open it for those who need access. It will get to the next bus once it gets here."
Sam wasn't sure which was older – the bus or the driver.
His weekend in New York had been fun. A huge party that started Saturday afternoon and went till Sunday morning. He had crashed at a friend of a friend and spent what little money he had more on party fun and travel than on food or sleeping arrangements.
He grabbed his backpack and waited for the front to clear out of the dead bus.
Sam traveled sparse, no other luggage to speak of, mere necessities to change. A generically fit 21 year old in baggy jeans and sneakers, hoodie and baseball cap. At that age, you can ignore a day or two of personal hygiene. As long as there was a toothbrush and some toothpaste to spare, things were good.
About 30 people filed into the rest stop. Some hurried to the small selection of fast food vendors, peddling starchy calories. Others bee-lined to the restrooms.
The inside of the service plaza hadn't been updated in years, just added on top of old fixtures. Brown tile and walls throughout the main parts, and white tile for restrooms and food court vendors.
Sam wasn't hungry. He settled with others in the big hall of hard-shell tables. No one was talkative in light of recent events. Everyone tried to bury themselves head down in their cell phones.
Unfortunately for Sam, that's where his luck was running out further. Twenty percent on his device, a magic margin for limited usability made him curse to no one in particular. He rummaged for his cable. He was halfway through the pockets of his backpack when he remembered exactly where it was.
Somewhere in the grungy apartment in SoHo, still plugged into the wall.
He reflected briefly on the weekend. Not quite intellectually with a quill over a piece of parchment. More memories of dancing, lots of beer, and the occasional glance from various guys looking at his shirtless body.
He had come out to himself a couple of years ago. Only a few friends knew, as he kept things quiet. Life, he had decided, had to be that way for a while. No one really knew that he even made the long haul to New York City, save for a few new friends he had made.
Sam's bladder got the better of him. He decided to follow nature's call since most would have relieved themselves. No more crowded bathrooms for a while, please.
"Oh, sorry," he said, having turned around the corner towards the men's area. He had almost run into a human wall, covered in dirty denim bib overalls and twice the waist of the trim youth. Both came to a momentarily halt.
Sam looked up. This all happened in only a couple of seconds, as he noticed the stocky man, wearing a big shiny septum ring. "No problem, bud" a firm but friendly voice replied.
Sam adjusted his path and made his way to relieve bladder pressure. He was familiar with bears – big cuddly men. He shook the thought. Not everyone is gay, even if you want to believe that after an intense party in a warehouse somewhere in New York. So much dancing, so many different types of bodies and ages, and every color and type of fabric.
Relief came. Probably the rest of the beer.
Sam was alone in the bathroom and took stock in front of the mirror.
His short hair with the floppy top peeked out from underneath his hat. The last of his youth's pimples, few as they were, weren't so bad. His smile still causing most people to feel comfortable around him.
He checked himself. Hoodie and jeans with barely any stains. He should have brought another pair of socks and ditch the ones he wore since Friday. But Monday wasn't far away, and he didn't care.
A rainbow flag hung from one zipper of his backpack. Not his. A souvenir or prank – he couldn't decide which – from his fabulous new friend he stayed with. George, very curious indeed, must have clipped it on before he left.
He smiled. Maybe it was time to fly the fag-flag. He didn't favor the term, and he certainly considered disusing it in the future. But be a teenager and you call everyone names that you dare not say around grown-ups or the socially hyper-invested.
Ha washed his hands, straightened up, and formulated a plan to turn around the evening's misfortune.
He had the choice and play it safe, be late for school and get into a lot of education-related trouble. Or figure out a way to make it back to college by any means possible.
Winter in Pennsylvania is like rolling dice. One year can be mild with the occasional cold breeze, and other times it is nothing but snow until April.
Sam pulled up his hoodie and exited the warm and bright hall. It was a long-shot, but maybe – just maybe – he'd be able to hitch a ride closer to his destination.
It had gotten colder. The sun was gone for hours and whatever warmth it provided did not melt the remains of piled up snow and white blotches here and there.
Sam saw cars drive by on the turnpike. Few would usually stop at this place, with better options further down the road. There weren't many cars in the nearly empty lot. Most would probably gas up and grab a snack before hurrying along.
His best chance, so he thought, would be to wait at the area's exit. He was desperate, and maybe others would see it the same way.
He had passed the gas pumps and saw the denim-clad mountain again, exiting the convenience store with his arms full of beverages and snacks.
"Eh, howdy again!" said the stocky man.
"Hey," said Sam and slowed his pace. Normally, he would not strike up conversations with just anyone, but he did not have the luxury to be picky.
"Guess you 'er on that here bus that don't look so good?" The man continued.
"Ya. Broke down, and now we're stuck 'til morning." replied the youth as both synchronized for a walk-and-talk.
"And you don't like being stuck." the man surmised, balancing his merchandise.
"Trying to get to Ohio, at least Youngstown, if I can... at least tonight" Sam hinted.
"... Eventually where?" the mountain probed.
"Cleveland, Oberlin," Sam revealed.
After a couple of seconds of thoughtful silence, and the man said. "Well, I gladly help a young man – such as yourself – out."