There isn’t a direct bus to Boise, so I head to the nearest hub, hoping it will be easier to get home from a big city. I’ve heard Denver is a nice town, but by the time I get off the first bus after a nine-hour ride, all I want is to stretch my legs and find something to eat. Unfortunately, the thin coat I’m wearing isn’t thick enough to fend off the bite of the brisk evening air, so I’m faced with the difficult decision of choosing dinner from a vending machine or a hot dog cart.

Fortunately, I love hot dogs.

I order three with all the fixings and then check the ticket window to find out what my options are. The color-coded map looks like a maze at first glance, but after staring at it for a few seconds, the routes that will get me home seem to jump out at me. It’s almost six in the evening and there is a bus to Las Vegas that leaves at seven which will get me to Boise by tomorrow night, or I can wait until six in the morning and take a bus straight up. I’ll arrive at around the same time but ten hours less on a bus sounds pretty good. Even if it means I’m spending the night in a bus station.

The first few hours pass quickly. Hundreds of people pass through the station, giving me plenty of opportunity to people watch. There are tired people who look like they’ve been on the road for days, and families who look like they’re on an adventure. And then there are the people like me. Those who seem a bit scared and a lot lost as they wander through the station. Sometimes they stop and buy a ticket to somewhere else. Other times they just stumble to the exit as if this is as good a place as any to stop for a while.

That’s kind of how I’ve been living for the past few years. I left home without a real destination in mind. I just ran and hitched and eventually stumbled to a stop in front of an Omega House. They provided the shelter and security I needed, but until I face my fears, I’ll never be one of those smiling faces on an adventure. I’ll always be one of the lost boys just stumbling to a stop now and then.

I pound another cup of coffee to stay awake then head to the men’s room for the tenth time. Traffic in the station has finally started to die down. Buses still pull in every twenty or thirty minutes, but only a few people get off and even fewer linger inside. They all seem to disappear as suddenly as they appear.

The bathroom is long and dingy with small tiles covering every surface except the toilets. I go to the last urinal on the wall and unzip my pants, uncomfortable with the way every sound vibrates off the wall, causing an echo. Before I finish pissing, someone walks inside. I don’t bother looking at whoever has entered. They’re there for the same reason I am, so I shake twice and tuck back into my pants.

I’m just about to zip up my pants when a deep voice startles me. “What’s the big hurry? I know you’re stuck here for a while too. We might as well have some fun while we wait.”

I slowly glance over my shoulder and see an older man with a thick beard and a leather jacket coming at me. I noticed him out in the main lobby earlier. He was also waiting in one of the hard-plastic chairs. “Thanks, but I’m not interested.” I step away from the urinal and try to bypass him, not even bothering to stop at the sink.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He reaches out and grabs my arm, stopping me just a few feet short of the door. “I’m sure we can work something out. We’re both men with needs. And I’ve got a couple bucks I can throw your way if that will sweeten the pot.”

I have to swallow back the bile rising in my throat. If he thinks there’s anything sweet about his pot, he is highly delusional. I shake my head and try to get out of his grip, even though he’s much stronger than me. “I have an alpha. He’s picking me up soon.”

The guy laughs, sending a shiver to run down my spine. “I don’t think so, kid.” He takes a few steps, dragging me toward one of the stalls. I’m about to scream when the door opens, and a janitor with a cleaning cart pushes through it.

We all look at each other for a second as the janitor pieces together what he’s seeing. It only takes a moment for him to figure out exactly what he’s walked in on. I’m terrified he’s going to back away silently and leave us alone, but he surprises me when he pulls out a mop handle and holds it up like a staff. “Whatever’s going on in here needs to stop. Both of you, get on out of here.”

I yank out of the man’s grip and run out the door, wishing I had a group of friends to blend in with for safety. But I’m all alone here. The best I can do is sit in one of the empty seats in clear view of the ticket booth and directly beneath one of the surveillance cameras. It’s not exactly safe, but it’ll have to do for a few hours. As soon as morning comes, the station will be full again, and I’ll be just another lonely stranger trying to get from one place to another.

I’ll be away from the predator who is probably still watching me from afar, waiting for his chance to pounce again. Although, even then I won’t be in a safe place. I’ll be heading toward a different predator at sixty miles per hour. I’ll be escaping an unknown threat to face the one I’ve been hiding from for years. The one who I’ve felt as deeply on the outside of my skin as on the inside of my body.

The monster who lived under my roof, always ready to pounce without fear of interruption.

The monster who shares my DNA.