PT-Loser

The seatbelt buckle jabbed into my ribs, jolting me awake, as I opened my eyes I saw the sun beginning to rise, time for school.

I was wary to avoid the shifter, round and white like a cue ball. I climbed into the back of the car to grab my jacket. Even though it was early September, the mornings were still cold.

As I opened the trunk I began rummaging through my wicker basket, which held every piece of clothing I owned. I thought, “Is it gonna warm up today? I wasn’t sure. How about I keep it simple, wear one of my go to t-shirts.” School was just starting so I don’t wanna show off all my flashy new button ups right off the bat, best to ease into it.

The birds began their morning symphonies, I looked up and felt the warmth of the sun on my face as I stood alone in a parking lot, living out of a car.

On the bright side, my grandmother’s 2007 PT Cruiser was my favorite color, royal blue. In the morning, the light was dim enough that it looked black, but as the sun rose the blues began to show. It’s the little things. The week prior I had been driving from my parents home in Geneva NY to Lansing, where I went to school. The drive took a little over an hour. I lasted a week, leaving at 6:30 every day to get to class on time.

After football practice I decided I could not take the constant driving anymore, my bed wasn’t that comfy. That September of 2012 marked two years since I had left home. I was ambitious and my parents believed in their son. I trust my family, but they don’t need to know everything. So, I called my mom and did what any seventeen year old would do. I lied.

“Hey Mom, great news! One of the guys on the team said I could crash on his couch tonight so I’m just gonna stay here… love you too!”

It really wasn’t that hard. Every morning, I would shower in the locker room, access provided courtesy of the maintenance man, Mr. Fenner. I told him the water pipes at my house broke. He probably knew I was lying, but he never said anything.

After that I’d get back in the car and drive to the local Dunkin’ Donuts, a popular spot at the time. My peers would come to get their so called “must have” mocha cappa-whatever. It was funny, I had never had a car before, so my friends would congratulate me on my “new car”. More like home. Either way, I’d hang out there for a little bit before heading back to school to eat my free breakfast. Thank you taxpayers.

Insuperable amounts of teenage angst enveloped me. I think I could have been a successful actor, everyday at school was a performance. I was smiling, cracking jokes, being a Gym Class Hero, anything to forget. Since my livelihood usually depended on the kindness of others, I had to be nice to every person I met. No surprise, I was voted biggest flirt.

After school I went to football practice. I didn’t take it too seriously, something fun to do with my friends before wrestling season. This was early in September, so it was still relatively warm outside, which was good because I would often go on walks around Myers Point after practice to watch the sunset. I found a trail that followed a meandering stream to the lake. It ended at a lighthouse that looked west across Cayuga lake to Trumansburg. I saw some kick-ass sunsets.

During these walks I’d often see locals, who were probably wondering why I was there for the fifth night in a row.

One Saturday I went to BJ’s with a friend who had groceries to get. I had nothing better to do and I enjoyed the company. While there I ran into Melanie Towner, an active community member and mother of three. Her son, Thomas, was 6’4” and fittingly was a wide receiver for Lansing. Since I was a defensive back I would often work with him on the best ways to get by defenders and vise-versa.

Per usual, I said hello to Mrs.Towner and helped her load her groceries into her mini van. She asked me where I was staying this year. She was smart and I’m sure people were talking. I lied that I was looking to finalize a lease on an apartment, only to stammer and fumble over my words when asked where.

The next week after practice Thomas approached me, “ Hey Connor my mom wants to talk to you before you leave”. What the hell does she want to know? Before I even opened my mouth she asked, “You don’t know where you’re living, do you?” I answered honestly proceeding to look at anything and everything but her face. She invited me over for dinner and I ate approximately 2 pounds of lasagna.

During breakfast Mr. and Mrs. Towner told me about the Independent Youth Program. This, according to their website, is for, “disconnected and at-risk youth who are homeless, court-involved, LGBTQ, aging out of foster care and young parents.” I guess I qualified. This meant I could legally live with the Towners for the remainder of the school year, which is all I cared about.

I signed some papers and it was done. As I unloaded the PT-Cruiser and made my way into my new home, I looked around. They were farmers who heated their home with wood they chopped, ate eggs laid by chickens thirty feet from the house, and a barn filled with sheep. A new home, a new family, a new chapter. Same old wicker basket, filled with clothes.