Colton’s lingering trauma from the camp and homelessness

Colton’s lingering trauma from the camp and homelessness is an enduring condition rather than a wound confined to his past: it surfaces in his fear of being abandoned, his difficulty traveling, his sensitivity around scars, and his anxiety about being worthy of love. The novel traces the afterlife of abuse through what Colton struggles to say and what other people learn to hear, while keeping its effects connected to the material pressures of aging out of care and trying to afford an education.

Origins and Institutional Pressures

Colton’s distress begins in the consequences of his family’s rejection of his gay identity. When he tells Amit that he was Mormon but no longer knows what he is, he describes having tried to hide that he was different before he was caught and things turned ugly. His hesitant account—broken off before he can name what happened—shows how difficult it is to approach the experience even in a setting intended to offer him safety. Amit asks whether he wants to tell more, leaving the decision with Colton rather than demanding disclosure.

Later, Colton explains to Marcel that his parents sent him to a conversion camp run by Father Benson. There, he says, they tried to make him not gay. He ran away because the treatment hurt increasingly and he feared Father Benson would kill him; he did not want to die. After living on the streets, he was arrested for vagrancy and sent to Ted House. His account remains uncertain about what happened to the camp afterward: Colton believes police may have pursued child-abuse charges, but does not know whether anything came of them, and says his therapist and Sage kept him out of those proceedings. He had wanted to move on.

The harm also persists as a physical condition. When Marcel’s touch makes Colton flinch over scars on his thighs, Marcel immediately draws back and asks whether he has hurt him. Colton takes Marcel’s wrist and guides his hand back to the scars, explaining that he has nerve damage: some areas are very sensitive, others numb. He then identifies the cause, saying Father Benson used electricity to cure him of his supposed affliction. The scarred skin is not merely a sign of past abuse; it is an altered sensory landscape that affects touch in the present.

Recurrence in Daily Life and the Future

The novel places Colton’s trauma alongside the insecurity of leaving foster care. As his eighteenth birthday and high-school graduation approach, he experiences the ticking clock as a time bomb. Although Sage promises he will not be abandoned with only a backpack, Colton has difficulty believing that the family-like home at Ted House can truly last. He knows that he must leave after graduation, whatever his behavior, and fears that his weak academic record and few job prospects will leave him without a place to belong. The prospect of another forced transition echoes the earlier loss of safety, even though Ted House’s staff are trying to support him.

That insecurity becomes concrete when the university denies his financial aid. Because his parents have not legally lost custody, the aid office counts their income despite Colton having spent the last year in foster care. The decision leaves him unable to afford the education he wants, and his mind spins before he can work out what to do. When the leaking ceiling gives way and water spreads through his apartment, he saves his laptop, phone, file folder, and backpack, but little else. He still keeps dry clothes ready because of an old street habit. The juxtaposition of an aid denial and a flooded home shows how quickly administrative uncertainty and housing instability can compound; the practical crisis does not stand apart from the trauma of having once been forced to survive without shelter.

The financial barrier continues to press on him. A community-college payment plan offers a cheaper route, but it still requires a $250 deposit followed by payments just under $1,000 each month for three months. The amount is presented as manageable by the person explaining the plan, but Colton knows he has never had $1,000 in his account without bills attached. His distress thus arises not from an inability to imagine a future, but from repeatedly encountering systems and costs that make that future seem inaccessible.

Intimacy, Witness, and Uneven Recovery

Colton’s disclosure to Marcel is halting and physically charged. He stops, chokes on words, and speaks through a breath that shakes as he describes the camp. Marcel recognizes the subject and tells him he need not supply further detail; the response gives Colton room to continue at his own pace. When Marcel asks what he can do about the aid denial, Colton answers that there is nothing to do but wait until he is old enough to qualify independently. Marcel does not force a solution onto him while he is already overwhelmed. The exchange makes listening and restraint part of the support Colton receives.

The effects also surface in the couple’s ordinary plans. At the cabin, Colton admits that he no longer travels as well as he used to after the camp and the streets. Marcel offers to take him home. Colton insists that he wants to stay with Marcel and says he is happy wherever Marcel is, but the reassurance does not cancel the difficulty he has named. The scene holds both facts together: closeness can make a place feel safer, while travel still carries an association with earlier danger and displacement.

Colton remains afraid that he is not enough for Marcel. When Marcel worries about telling other people about their relationship, Colton turns the concern inward, describing himself as nervous, about twelve years younger, and a café worker. Marcel answers by affirming him as he is, including his nervous energy and his affection for stray dogs. Later, when Marcel asks how Colton sees the stars, Colton laughs with embarrassment and admits he does not know how to explain it; he is chronically afraid of failing Marcel. Marcel does not require an artistic account. His hand traces from Colton’s shoulder to his forearm, where the scars remain visible and tangible reminders of an angry past. The exchange offers recognition, not a claim that love has made the scars or fear disappear.

Significance

Colton’s trauma is shown through recurrence rather than a single, neatly concluded revelation: an incomplete confession to Amit, a fuller account to Marcel, nerve damage encountered through touch, fear around travel, and anxiety about belonging all reveal different consequences of the same history. The narrative connects emotional and bodily effects to the conditions surrounding them, including family rejection, conversion abuse, street homelessness, foster-care age limits, inaccessible financial aid, and scarce money. Trusted relationships give Colton space to speak and to make choices, but they do not retroactively undo the violence or remove the material barriers that continue to shape his life.