But Dez had been right.
I didn’t have what it takes to make it out here.
With the sky for a roof and grass for my bed. Watching my back with a paranoia that made me twitchy.
But being out here was better than going home. I was convinced of it. And there was no way I could back down now that my decision had been made. Admitting I had been wrong seemed the worst possible thing.
Pride was a dangerous thing.
And it just might kill me.
I wrapped my arms around me, wishing I had thought of a better outfit to wear on my great escape. A tight fitting tank top and cut off shorts didn’t seem like the wisest attire if I didn’t want to get noticed by the wrong kind of people.
“You did it? You’re such a bad ass!” Amanda squealed. I pressed myself inside the tiny phone booth. I had used my last handful of change to call the only friend I had who wouldn’t tell me I was a total idiot.
“It’s like I’m a fucking ghost in that house. She won’t know I’ve even left,” I said shortly. And it was true. My mother didn’t do maternal. I was expected to conform to her life or not at all. She was strict when it didn’t matter. Disinterested when it did.
It had just been the two of us after my dad died when I was three. My mother was my only family. No doting grandparents or affable uncles. No cousins.
She had always been more of an older sister than a mother. I remembered as a child she’d feed me gummy bears for dinner and let me watch horror movies on school nights. She didn’t care about things like homework and dental checkups.
But she was also the one who took me to get a sundae at the Dairy Queen the first time I had my heart broken.
She wasn’t all bad, but she only loved if it was convenient.
And I had become inconvenient.
She had Adam now. Gorgeous, struggling musician, way-too-young-for-Mom Adam. A sixteen-year-old daughter didn’t really fit into the raging rock and roll lifestyle she had recently adopted.
When I ran away for the first time, I could admit it was for attention. I had hoped Mom would be frantic. I had fantasies of her notifying the police, putting up missing posters, appealing to the local media.
None of that had happened.
I had stayed away for a full twenty-four hours, sleeping on a park bench, before I ventured back only to find the house empty. Mom had never even come home from wherever she had disappeared to.
I ran away the second time after Mom decided to play super bitch and refused to let me go to the movies with Amanda. With Adam looking on in approval, she proceeded to rip me a new one about my “lack of responsibility” and how I needed to “help out more” if I ever wanted to go out again.
I was gone two days that time. I slept on Amanda’s floor until her dad realized I hadn’t gone home after the first night and all but threw me out on my backside. His loving indulgence clearly only included his daughter.
This time though, magic number three, I left with no delusions of a concerned mother. I didn’t expect her to scour the streets looking for me. I wasn’t trying to get attention. I wasn’t having a tantrum.
I was just tired of being invisible. I’d rather be on my own than living with the constant reminder that I was a non-entity in my own house.
“Good for you, babe. You did the right thing,” Amanda assured me. I pressed the phone to my ear and peered out the smudged glass and shivered, even though it wasn’t cold.
“Are you sure? I mean, what am I supposed to do? Where should I go? Can I come to your house?” I asked, sounding so, so small.
“I wish you could, Imi, but my dad would never allow it. You know how he was last time.”
I had nowhere else to go.
Someone banged on the door and I startled. I could see the dark outline of a very large figure standing on the other side. “Hurry up! I need to use the phone!” the person shouted.
“I guess I could head to the warehouse on Summit,” I considered. I was starting to feel panicked.
“That’s a good idea. There are lots of kids down there. I remember some of them being pretty cool when I’d hang out with that asshole Dez. Plus you’re totally cute, someone will take pity on you.”
“That’s not very reassuring, Mandy,” I muttered, picking at the rusted metal phone cord.
“Don’t be such a worry wart. You’ll be fine. But I’ll try to get out to see you in a bit.”
The guy banged on the door again. “Get the fuck out of there or I’ll drag you out!” he yelled.
“I’ve gotta go,” I said hurriedly.
“Okay, I’ll find you, Imi. Just head to the warehouse.”
The door opened and the phone was yanked out of my hand. I was all but shoved out of the booth by a very large, very impatient man. He snarled at me with a mouth full of yellow teeth and I scrambled away.
I tripped and fell, landing hard on my knees. The sun was just setting and small fires were being lit in trashcans. A few guys were riding skateboards along the cracked pavement. A group of kids no older than I was, were smoking cigarettes and sharing French-fries from a bag.
My knees were bleeding and I pulled pieces of gravel from my skin with shaking fingers.
I had run away from home.
I had nowhere to go.
I was a teenage freaking runaway.
“You okay?”
I looked up, shielding my eyes from the late evening sun. A guy holding a plastic convenience store bag and a skateboard under his arm stood above me, his eyebrows arched questioningly.
My hands were wet with blood and my cheeks were stained with tears. I quickly wiped my hands on my shorts and stood up on unsteady feet. My stomach was twisted into knots and I shivered again, but didn’t respond.
“Do you have a thing against answering questions?” he chuckled and I scowled.
I straightened my shoulders and flipped my long, brown hair over my shoulder, lifting my chin in a show of strength I didn’t feel. “I’m fine,” I said firmly.
The guy dropped his skateboard onto the ground and rolled it back and forth underneath his foot. He cocked his head to the side and gave me a disbelieving smile. “That’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared indignantly. “You don’t know me.”
The boy couldn’t have been much older than I was. His too thin face was angular in a way that indicated he had only just lost the roundness of childhood. He was skinny, his arms long. His legs longer. But he was lovely to look at. He had a chiseled beauty that would have been perfect on a runway.
But this kid was no model, nor would he ever be one. His green eyes were hesitant and cautious; his skin marred with at least a dozen scars, some more vivid than others. And those were just the ones I could see. His black hair was messy and on the long side, but clearly not by choice.
His clothes were threadbare and worn. His sneakers had holes in the sides and were missing laces. I could see his collarbone jutting prominently.
This guy had been on the streets for a while. So even though we were roughly the same age, his face held a maturity that mine didn’t.
He flipped the board up onto its back wheels and picked it up again. He shrugged. “Whatever. I was trying to be nice. See ya around.” With a look that was entirely too sympathetic, he turned and walked towards the group of kids smoking by the broken fence beside the river.
Way to make friends, Imogen, I berated myself.
I was on my own now. I couldn’t afford turning down niceties. I pulled on the hem of my too tight shirt. I felt exposed. Vulnerable. And that wasn’t good when you were surrounded by strangers.
“Hey sweet thing, I haven’t seen you around here before.” A guy wearing a hoodie appeared beside me. I couldn’t really see his face and that bothered me. He gave off a vibe I didn’t like. A cigarette hung from his mouth, ash falling onto his shirt.
I looked away, ignoring him, hoping he’d leave me alone if I were rude enough. I could see the ska
teboard boy was still hanging around. He was sitting on an overturned trashcan, eating something from the plastic bag he had been carrying.
I noticed that he glanced my way occasionally, but didn’t make any attempt to come back over.
The hoodie guy inched closer and I wanted to move away. But I didn’t. I didn’t want him to know that he bothered me. Instinct told me to not reveal any weakness out here.
“I was talking to you. You think you’re too good or somethin’?”
Just say something to get him to leave you alone!
“No, I don’t think that. I’m just hanging out. I was about to leave.” I forced myself to drop my arms casually to my side, tucking my thumbs in my pockets as though I was doing just what I said. Hanging out.
“Don’t rush off. Things were just about to get started. Why don’t you come hang out with me for a while?” Hoodie Guy grabbed me by the upper arm and pulled me towards him.
I stumbled, but managed to stay upright. His fingers were digging into my flesh and I jerked my arm out of his hold. “Don’t touch me unless I tell you to,” I hissed.
Hoodie Guy chuckled and it wasn’t a nice sound. “Then tell me to,” he said, grabbing me again. “I really think you need to come over here with me.” He pulled on me again and this time he wasn’t letting go.
I cast a look around the darkened clearing below the bridge. We were surrounded by people, but no one was looking our way. And I knew that no one would lift a finger to intervene. They existed by a different set of rules down here. It was every boy or girl for themselves.
“Let me go,” I growled, trying to get free.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” Hoodie Guy snarled, no longer trying to keep up any sort of pretense. He dragged me over rocks towards a wooded area.
He’s going to rape me. Or worse he was going to kill me.
“Please, just let me go,” I pleaded, not sounding remotely tough or badass anymore. I just wanted to get away.
My shoes caught on the rocks and I stumbled again, falling to the ground. Hoodie wrenched on my arm so hard that I was worried he dislocated it. “Stand up, bitch! Fucking stand up, now!”
“Is there a problem here?”
Relief thick and suffocating swept over me. I looked up, my hair in my face, my arm still firmly in Hoodie Guy’s grasp and saw Skateboard Boy staring down at me, his face hard and unreadable.
“This doesn’t fucking concern you, Yoss. Back the fuck off,” Hoodie Guy snarled, yanking on my arm again. My shoulder protested painfully, but I wouldn’t get to my feet.
“Actually, she’s a friend of mine, so yeah, it does concern me,” Skateboard Boy, who I had just learned was named Yoss, said. “She’s here to see me, isn’t that right?” He stared down at me, but I couldn’t see his eyes in the dim light.
I nodded desperately. “Yeah, I’m here to see Yoss.” My voice was panicky and high pitched.
“Why didn’t you say that earlier then?” Hoodie Guy demanded, still not relinquishing my arm. “Anyway, she’s gonna hang out with me now, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” His awful voice was all honey again.
“No. I’m here to see Yoss,” I argued, finally standing up and pulling on my arm with enough force that his nails broke skin.
Hoodie Guy laughed his horrible laugh as he turned to my rescuer. “Are you playin’ with pussy for a change?”
I frowned, not understanding what he was getting at. Yoss’s jaw tightened and his fists clenched at his side. “Come on, let’s go,” Yoss said to me, his eyes still on Hoodie.
“Okay,” I replied, scrambling to his side.
Yoss took my hand and gripped it tightly. It seemed a territorial move. Normally I would have balked at the gesture, but with Hoodie only minutes away from doing unspeakable things to me, I welcomed it.
“Don’t put your hands on her again, Tag. Otherwise I’ll have to tell Manny,” Yoss threatened, his voice low and dangerous.
I expected Hoodie—Tag—to sneer and come for me again, but he didn’t. Instead, he backed away.
“Whatever. No need for all that shit.” Tag turned and disappeared into the trees.
I all but sagged in relief. “Thank y—”
“You need to get the hell out of here,” Yoss said, dropping my hand like it had burned him.
I swallowed thickly and rubbed my arms. “I can’t,” I said, raising my voice slightly, trying to find my backbone again. The situation with Tag had scared me. And part of me wanted to listen to Yoss and go home.
But then I thought of what I’d be going home to so I stood my ground.
“Look, girl—”
“Imogen. My name is Imogen. Though my friends call me Imi,” I interrupted. Was I allowing this strangely beautiful boy to call me the nickname reserved for people I actually liked?
Absolutely.
He had saved my life. That gave you nickname rights in my book.
“Imogen, cool name.” He smiled and I smiled. It was sort of contagious. But then his face became serious again. “Imi, you don’t belong out here. That’s obvious. You’ve got a home don’t you?”
“Not one where I want to be,” I muttered.
Yoss ran his hand through his hair and sighed with frustration. “Well that’s the difference between you and every other kid out here, Imogen. You have a home you don’t want to go to. The rest of us just don’t have a home. So I don’t give a fuck how sad and pathetic you think your life is, do yourself a favor and run your pretty little tail all the way back to your white picket fence.” He sounded angry whereas before he had been fiercely protective.
I didn’t want to explain all the reasons that wasn’t an option for me. Sure, he had saved me from some potentially horrible shit, but I wouldn’t expose myself like that to anyone.
“I can’t,” I repeated obstinately.
Yoss looked incredibly sad. For some reason it made my heart hurt. “Then you’re an idiot. No one chooses to be out here. This isn’t a decision anyone would make if they had a choice.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I did,” I admitted quietly.
I hung my head, staring at the fractured ground beneath our feet. Broken concrete, pieces of rock, dead grass. Slivers of glass from shattered bottles gleamed in the newly risen moonlight.
Yoss didn’t say anything for a long time. And when he finally did, he said the only thing that would have made me feel any better in this crap situation I found myself in.
“Well come on then. I’ll help you find somewhere to sleep tonight. Tomorrow you can tell me why you don’t have any options.”
“Why are you being nice to me? I was a total bitch face to you earlier,” I asked, confused by why he’d stick his neck out for a stranger. A nobody.
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I glanced up, startled at the physical contact. He was a good deal taller than me. The top of my head only came to his chin. I had to crane my neck to look into his face.
I wasn’t the touchy feely sort. I had grown used to the lack hugs and kisses. Mom rarely gave them and when she did it usually came with strings attached. A kiss before leaving me home alone while she went off chasing the new set of trousers. A hug as she let me know I’d be fending for myself for dinner once again.
But Yoss’s hand on my shoulder didn’t seem to come with conditions. It was comforting. That was it.
“Because I recognize that look on your face.”
I frowned, not sure what he was talking about.
Yoss smiled softly and then dropped his hand. I shivered again. “The I’m-just-trying- to-get-the-hell-out-of-here look,” he explained.
I tensed, but didn’t argue. What was the point? He was right. I probably did look like some sort of caged animal desperate for my escape.
“We’ve all been there. Just don’t get stuck trying to find your way out. There’s more to life than these fucking streets. If I were you, I’d start figuring stuff out pretty damn quickly.” He wasn’t being condescending, but his been-there-done-that garbage ru
bbed me the wrong way.
“Says the kid hanging out underneath a bridge,” I snapped. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want his advice. I wanted anger. Bitterness. Mutual despair.
Yoss laughed and I didn’t want to smile. But I did. There was something about this tall, too skinny boy that was sort of irresistible.
“I like you, Imogen. You’ve got attitude. You’ll need that out here,” he said. He inclined his head toward the fire raging in the trashcan underneath the overhang. A group of kids were drinking soda out of the bottle and laughing loudly. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat. I just went to the convenience store and got some hotdogs. They’re probably cold now, but it doesn’t really matter when you’re hungry.”
“Yeah, I could eat,” I said gruffly.
Yoss smiled again. “Okay then. Let’s fill your belly, then maybe we can find you a sweatshirt or something.”
I looked down at my outfit. “It’s the middle of June. I don’t think I’ll get cold.”
Yoss didn’t say anything, but instead looked off towards the trees in the direction Tag had gone. I stiffened. There were other reasons to cover yourself that had nothing to do with the cold.
“I’m sure there’s one back at The Pit.”
“The Pit?” I asked.
“The warehouse where we all sleep. Come on, Imi,” he said softly, placing his hand lightly on the small of my back and steering me towards the other teenagers.
I looked up at my unlikely savior and wondered a million things about him.
So I settled on what seemed the most important in that moment.
“What kind of name is Yoss?”
He laughed and it was real and true and I felt it absolutely everywhere. He pulled a cigarette out of his back pocket and tucked it between his lips, lighting it. The smoke curled around his mouth and floated up into the night sky.
He inhaled deeply and I couldn’t help but watch in fascination as he blew out a ring of smoke as large as my head.
“Have you ever read Catch-22 by Joseph Heller?” he asked me.
One Day Soon Page 3