Kyle flipped through the paper as he half-heartedly ate his lunch. The break room at the convenience store where he worked was dirty and unkempt, but he ignored it and turned back to browsing the ads.
I’ve got to find a place to live, he thought. I can’t stay at home any more. Not after last night. Not after Dad hit me and called me a fag. He rubbed his hand back through his medium-length brown hair and sighed. All these places want security deposits, though. I can’t afford that kind of money. Not on minimum wage.