
When Anderson, homeless on the streets of Seattle, first spies Josh, a volunteer at TeenCare, he immediately falls for him, even though TeenCare forbids client/volunteer interaction. Anderson thinks: "And speaking of noticed, I think I was, just a few minutes ago. One of the volunteers was coming by and we locked eyes. You know, the way two guys do. Two gay guys, anyway, who like what they see. It's not like a casual glance -- those only last for a second or maybe two at the most -- but when two gay dudes notice each other, man, that eye-to-eye lingers. You know what I'm sayin'?
"And that boy? He was fine. Or to roll back to one of my mama's expressions from back in her day -- he was fly."
In spite of the youth center's policy of volunteers and clients interacting beyond the most superficial ways, will love discover a way around the policy, so Josh and Anderson can be together?

JOSH Can a love song be prophetic? The romantic in me wondered exactly that as I wandered down Denny Way in my hometown of Seattle on a bright, sunny day in August. The Indigo Girls crooned through my earbuds, one of their most bittersweet songs, “Love Will Come to You.” I liked to imagine they were singing to only me. When they promised that where there was one, there would be two, my romantic heart ate it up. Yet the cynic in me (the other side of my personal coin) thought, Yeah, right. I’ve been waiting for love to “come to me” for the past twenty-five years, and it has yet to raise its pretty head anywhere near where I can see it. Despite countless dates, hookups, and short-lived relationships, I still wondered if love was a real thing—or just something cooked up by the good folks a
