"I was given an apartment not far from here," Steve replied. He was eighteen now, old enough to have his own place. No, he didn't complete senior year and doubted he ever would. He didn't consider himself smart enough for that. He'd been given a stipend for now to tide himself over until he found work, which he considered especially generous, since he doubted that he would've gotten that back home. As for Jonathan's feelings for him? He wouldn't have considered that before. King Steve, Pussy Hound, was his unofficial title back home. But being here, he was learning to grow.
"Once things calm down here they'll probably assign you somewhere you live," he added with a 'what can you do' shrug, before shouldering that baseball bat. "But who knows when that'll be."