Homeless Heart

Chapter 7

Phin

Back in San Francisco.

The eight-hour bus ride back to the place of my birth felt longer than my first ride to LA nearly three years ago. I had left the only home I'd ever known, and this time, I was miserable. The overweight woman sitting next to me fell asleep and leaned her head against my shoulder all the way to Fresno. Once she got off, I didn't have a seatmate and managed to get some restless sleep. When the bus jerked to a stop, I slowly opened my eyes and realized we'd finally arrived at the San Francisco bus station. As everyone got up to exit, I grabbed my bag and followed—still half asleep. I stepped off the bus; the fresh night air hit me as I took a big deep breath, and the faint sea smell all came rushing back. I'd missed the damp in the air, the sounds of seagulls in the distance, and the million-dollar views. Taking in another deep breath, I knew no matter how much I would miss Duke, this place was always my home. I took the first step toward my unexpected future, toward the next chapter in my life and the fortune that was my birthright. I should be scared, but I wasn't anymore, my parents wouldn’t find me. I'd fought too hard and lost too much not to get my reward and the life I deserved. Less than a year left to get my freedom, then I could go back to Duke and begin my life.

My first stop was to lock up the majority of the money I brought with me in a locker here at the bus station. After I got my cash secured, I took my jacket out of my backpack. I bundled up and headed toward the even sketchier part of town for a hotel room. There was no way I was going to live rough for the next week or so. Right now, I needed a place to stay and to figure out my life.

The Tenderloin used to be the underbelly of San Francisco; now, it offered a mash-up of high and low-income people due to the high-tech boom. As I walked down the streets, I noticed the holiday decorations, which was a hard reminder of missing out on spending that time with Duke and my patchwork family. At that moment, I tamped down my anger and resentment toward Lana and what she'd done to me. I had to take responsibility for using her. I had learned the hard way that if you played with someone's feelings, there would be a price to pay.

I watched as the homeless and the alcoholics walked along with the hipsters and young tech professionals. Oh, and don't forget the tourists. This area was where the poor and invisible had been pushed in by real estate prices and gentrification. This neighborhood wasn't safe for a newbie, but I wasn't a newbie anymore. Duke had taught me how to protect myself. The thought of him hit my heart with sincere regret. I walked through the neighborhood, checking out the less than five-star hotels I had looked up on my phone on the bus ride. The majority of the reviews of the Potter Hotel said it was decent enough and it was cheap. As a long-time Harry Potter fan, I had to believe it was a sign.

Standing in the beige lobby, I could tell it was clean, but it probably hadn't been redecorated since the eighties. The well-worn overstuffed light peach sofa sat in the corner, and the check-in desk sat off to the left, as I came in the door. The smell that hit me first was of disinfectant, which made me optimistic for the lack of cockroaches or DNA on the sheets. I'd become a bit of a clean freak almost to the point of OCD since living at Duke's. The cranky deskman got much more helpful when I paid for a week in advance. He gave me some extra towels and soaps for good measure. For this place, that was a kind gesture, so I smiled and went to my room.

My body was tired from the long ride, and walking up four flights of stairs had me about to collapse. Pushing myself into the room, I flopped on the bed, sweaty, tired, dusty, and unable to move. After a few quiet moments, I decided I needed a shower, and then I could pass out until tomorrow. The bathroom smelled good and was relatively clean for this type of hotel. After surveying the room, my anxiety and need to clean were under control. A long hot shower felt terrific and washed away some of my physical aches and pains. As I quickly dried off with a scratchy towel, I crawled under the covers needing sleep. When I lived on the streets, I could sleep on almost any surface in any position, but I'd grown soft while living at Duke's. Warming up the sheets and stretching out my stiff muscles in this lumpy bed did the trick. The police sirens, crazy people screaming at no one in particular, and the sounds of cars and buses rushing by became my lullaby. My eyes closed, and I was asleep before I could count one sheep.

I woke up to the sounds of a woman screaming and a blaring car alarm. "Fuck!" I said to no one in particular as I rolled off the bed, trying to get my bearings on the day. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn't eaten since yesterday when I had that glorious BLT. First thing I had to do was call Duke and let him know I made it safe and sound. I took a deep breath, gave myself a pep talk, and strengthened my resolve to do what needed to be done to survive. I was on a mission to survive until my twenty-first birthday, and then my life could begin.