One Day Soon (8 page)

I pulled my knees up to my chest and pressed myself against the wall, terrified.

I almost screamed myself when a hand grabbed mine in the darkness. I jerked backwards, my head smacking against concrete as I let out a yelp.

“It’s okay, Imogen,” Yoss’s voice drifted towards me with a slight squeeze of fingers.

“What’s wrong? Why is that woman screaming?” I whispered, scared to raise my voice.

Yoss moved to sit beside me, still holding my hand. It was nice. Comforting.

Safe.

It was a luxury I’d hold onto.

“That’s Mable. She’s got…well…
problems.
She usually thinks she’s being chased by aliens who want to probe her or something. The little grey guys must be bugging her again.” Yoss leaned back against the wall and yawned.

“Why isn’t anyone helping her?” I demanded as the screaming grew louder and louder.

Yoss shrugged. “What can anyone do? She needs medication. She needs fucking therapy. She’s not getting that here.”

His words were so hopeless and depressing. “Why can’t—?” I began, but Yoss cut me off.

“Look, Imogen, everyone here needs something. Mable needs meds. Gary over there needs a fifth of whiskey before he’s had his breakfast. That girl with the blond hair is Lora and she needs to forget the horrible things her daddy did to her. Thomas, the guy with the nose ring, needs to fuck away his feelings. Some of us get what we need. Some of us don’t.” Yoss pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag.

He was so cut and dry. Unemotional about the despair all around us. Unaffected. Was he so desensitized to the world around him that a woman in obvious crisis didn’t bother him in the slightest? Would I become like that?

But he
had
helped me. When he didn’t have to. He had taken care of me when I was ready to curl into a ball and lose myself in the misery of my situation.

After Yoss had rescued me from the shady Tag he had brought me back to The Pit, which I learned was an appropriate name. Because that’s all it was. A pit. It was a place no one in their right mind would choose to sleep.

The Pit was a condemned warehouse on the edge of town. It was dark. It smelled like sewage. It was full of questionable people, doing questionable things.

If I had been scared underneath Seventh Street Bridge, it was nothing compared to what I felt when Yoss brought me here.

But he never left my side.

At first I was suspicious of his helpfulness, remembering Tag and what I knew had been his intentions.

Yoss was a guy after all. A nice-looking one, but a guy nonetheless. And I was completely vulnerable, as much as I hated to admit it.

Though I soon realized that I wasn’t in a position to second-guess a helping hand. I’d keep my wits about me, and my eyes open. But for now, I’d accept what he offered.

He had led us to an out of the way corner behind an old conveyer belt. It was shielded from the rest of the room by an old blanket and makeshift walls that were composed of cardboard boxes and a broken table.

“It’s not much, but you’re more than welcome to crash here for now,” Yoss had said, not quite looking at me.

“This is where you live?” I had asked, trying not to sound so horrified. It was obvious from the embarrassment on his face, that Yoss was ashamed of the place he laid his head at night.

The bed was a pile of smelly, moth eaten blankets. He had made himself a small bookcase out of off cuts of timber and old cinderblocks. Piles of CDs and books lined the uneven shelves. He had gotten a battery operated camping lamp from somewhere and it stood haphazardly on top of an overturned chair.

“Yeah. For now anyway. The police come in and do a sweep every now and then and we all have to leave. But they were just here two weeks ago, so we’re all good for a little while at least,” Yoss had explained gruffly. “Look, I know it’s not five star accommodations but at least you won’t get wet when it rains.” He wouldn’t look at me, and I felt like an ass for belittling where he lived.

“No, this is fine. Great actually,” I had said overly brightly. Yoss had cocked an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Yeah, it’s the Ritz-fucking-Carlton,” he remarked dryly.

“I appreciate it, Yoss. I really do,” I said, touching his arm. He tensed at the physical contact and I quickly removed my hand.

We had settled down on the pile of blankets, my back to Yoss. He hadn’t touched me. He seemed careful about that. He had hummed a song under his breath as I drifted off to sleep.

The screaming had finally stopped and I pulled the sleeves of my sweatshirt down over my cold hands. It was chilly as I huddled against the wall.

Yoss finished his cigarette and dropped it in an old soda can. “So, Imogen, what’s the plan?”

I ran my hands through tangled hair and wished I could get a shower, but that was the least of my issues. I was hungry. I was still tired, having only slept a few hours on the concrete floor. I had no idea what I was going to do or where I was going to go. I couldn’t depend on Yoss’s ongoing generosity. I was sure he had other things to worry about, let alone some strange girl he had just met.

Yoss was asking me about my plan.

The truth was I didn’t have one. I hadn’t thought much beyond getting out of my house and being on my own. I realized how shortsighted that was.

“I don’t know,” I admitted defensively.

Yoss dug around in his meager belongings until he found a toothbrush and an almost empty tube of toothpaste. He squeezed some paste onto the worn bristles and put it in his mouth.

I found myself smiling in spite of everything. The idea that Yoss was worried about dental hygiene seemed incredibly funny.

“Hey, the last thing I need is a cavity. It’s not like I can afford a dentist,” he reasoned. “It’s easier to scrounge up some money for cheap toothpaste than having a rotting hole in my mouth.”

“Yet you smoke. Shouldn’t lung cancer be a concern then?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Yoss smirked. “Touché, smartass.”

“But I get it. I really do. I’m just surprised is all,” I said, wiping the smile off my face so I wouldn’t insult him any further.

“How old are you, Imi?” he asked after spitting the toothpaste into a plastic cup.

“Sixteen,” I answered.

“You’re a baby, then,” Yoss teased, putting his toothbrush away and pulling a pair of socks from the bag holding his clothes.

“How old are
you
?” I threw back, annoyed.

“I’ll have you know, I just turned eighteen on Christmas Eve. I think I look pretty good for my advanced age.” Yoss grinned and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“You’re positively ancient,” I deadpanned.

Yoss chuckled. “Okay, so you’re sweet sixteen. Are you still in school?”

School. I hadn’t really thought about that. “Uh. Yeah. I’m going to be a junior in the fall. But I guess that’s not so important now.”

Yoss frowned. “Why wouldn’t going to school be important now? I’d think that would be the most important thing you have going on.”

I gestured around us. “Because I’m sleeping
here
. I can’t go to high school when I can’t go home.” I cringed at how shrill I sounded.

“Well, you’ve got a couple of months before you have to worry about that. Things could be really different by then,” Yoss said, taking off his old socks and putting on new ones. He followed that up by putting on fresh deodorant and running a comb through his slightly out of control hair. He seemed very particular about his hygiene, which seemed incongruous with the whole homeless thing he had going on.

“I can’t go home,” I told him firmly.

“You mentioned that last night.” He didn’t push for more information and I appreciated that. Because if he had, I would have told him to go to hell. But he didn’t. I supposed everyone had stories they didn’t want to tell.

Yoss got to his feet and he held out his hand. I let him pull me up. The sun was just rising, light streaming through the dirty windows. The Pit was even more depressing in the light of day than it had been during the dead of night.

“Come on, let’s see if we can find something to eat,” Yoss said softly, leading me out of the warehouse and into the cool morning.

I felt gross. As though a thin layer of grime coated my skin. I wanted to brush my teeth and put my long hair back. My deodorant had worn off and I could smell myself.

But none of that really mattered. I had to learn to prioritize the things I worried about. And getting food was way more important than washing my face.

I shivered, thankful that Yoss had been able to find a sweatshirt for me to wear. My bare legs were freezing though.

Yoss stretched his arms over his head. “It looks like it’s going to be a gorgeous day,” he remarked.

“If you say so,” I muttered.

Yoss looked down at me and he was much better looking in the morning light than he had been in the dark. His green eyes were intense and I found it impossible to look away from him. “Imi, if this is the life you want for yourself, though I can’t imagine why it would be, you’re going to have to find a way to embrace it. It’s the ones who wallow in self-pity that curl up and die out here. Seize the moments you’re given, otherwise the world will eat you up and spit you out.”

“Are you the Gandhi of the street kids or something?” I snapped.

Yoss chuckled. “I think someone needs to up their blood sugar. You’re a bit of a diva on an empty stomach.”

I crossed my arms over my chest belligerently. “You don’t know me, Yoss. Stop acting like you do.”

Yoss cocked his head to the side as he regarded me. “No. I don’t know you. But I’ve been you and it didn’t turn out well for me.”

I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant by that, but his hand curled around my wrist and he pulled me towards the sidewalk. “Come on. I know a place over on Vine Street that throws out leftover food around this time. Let’s see if we can snag some stuff before it’s all gone.”

I stopped suddenly, pulling us both up short. Yoss glanced down at me, his black hair falling in his face. A question in his green, green eyes.

“Thank you,” I said sincerely.

I meant it. He had saved me. Maybe in more ways than one.

He smiled and it melted me. Just a little. “You don’t need to thank me, Imogen.” He leaned down close so that his nose almost brushed against mine. Our eyes met and I felt a connection. For the first time in a long time I felt as though someone saw
me.
“Just figure out a plan, okay?”

I nodded. “I can do that.”

Yoss stood back up and tugged on my arm again. “Good. Now come on.”

It was a quick walk to a line of shops just on the outskirts of the busy downtown area of Lupton. A hardware store, a dry cleaners, and a coffee shop and bakery.

I kept my head down and made sure not to make eye contact with anyone. Once upon a time, I had wanted my mother to come looking for me. I had wanted to be found.

Now I just wanted to stay lost.

Yoss walked close beside me, but he didn’t keep his eyes trained to the ground like I did. Instead he kept his head high, almost daring anyone to look at him. He walked with confidence. Even though his clothes were old and torn and his face was smudged with dirt, he carried himself like he owned the world.

A man wearing a business suit walking brusquely towards us shouldered Yoss as he passed. “Fucking gutter rats,” the man muttered under his breath, his lip curling in disgust. Yoss’s jaw tensed and I stiffened. It wasn’t the first time I had ever been called a nasty name, but this one really hurt.

“Hey! What’s your problem?” I turned and yelled after him. The man didn’t stop. He didn’t even acknowledge that I had said anything at all. I was a nothing. A nobody.

Invisible.

“What a prick! I can’t believe he walked straight into you like that! We should go and kick the shit out of him!” I seethed. I was so angry. Unreasonably so. Why did I care what a guy in a cheap suit thought about me? I didn’t know him. I’d never see him again.

But it
did
bother me.

For some reason, at that moment, his derision burned through me and I felt a deep sense of shame.

“Hey, Imi, it’s okay,” Yoss said softly.

I shook my head. “No, it’s not okay! So he thinks because our clothes are dirty that he’s somehow better than we are? Who the hell does he think he is?” I was yelling. People were staring. I should shut up and put my head down again.

Then I started crying. Tears dripped down my cheeks and my shoulders started to shake. I covered my face with my hands, wanting to hide.

“Oh my god, what is wrong with me?” I gasped. The events of the past twenty-four hours crashed into me.

I felt rough hands on my wrists, gently tugging my arms down. Yoss gripped my hands in his. “It’s cool. Cry if you need to. Yell if you want. I’m not going to tell you that you can’t.”

I sniffled and pulled one of my hands free so I could wipe my face. “Thanks,” I said with a wobbly smile.