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.
“But all of this will be easier to deal with once we have something in our stomachs.” Yoss started walking again and I followed him. I felt like an idiot for losing my cool like that in front of him.
I had known him for less than a day and all he knew of me was that I was an absolute mess.
Neither of us mentioned my freak out again, which I was glad for. We slipped around the back of the coffee shop. Yoss led me to the large trash bin that was overflowing with garbage.
Without hesitating, he hopped up on an overturned milk crate and started rooting through the black trash bags.
“What are you doing?” I asked him, completely revolted.
“Finding breakfast,” he explained, looking over his shoulder at me as though I were slow functioning.
“From there? Why don’t we just go buy a bagel or something?” I asked lamely.
Yoss pulled out a clear plastic bag full of uneaten rolls. The bag was still sealed with a twist tie and obviously hadn’t been opened. “You’ve got some extra bucks lying around? Because I used what I had on the stuff we ate last night,” he said.
Of course I didn’t have any money. It had been a dumb thing to say.
“Then day old rolls it is. They’re not bad. It’s not like they’re moldy or anything. Every morning the bakery throws out everything they didn’t sell from the day before. If you get here early enough you can score some great stuff. There were cinnamon twists yesterday and the day before that I was able to grab some herb focaccia bread.” He ripped open the bag and handed me two white crusty rolls.
My stomach growled and I took a big bite. It was a stale but tasty. I finished both before Yoss had eaten one.
“Damn, you were hungry. Feeling better?” he asked, smirking.
“Yeah. I guess,” I said, taking another roll from the bag.
Yoss pulled another plastic bag from the dumpster. This one was full of what looked to be chocolate chip cookies. “We’ll take these back for everyone.”
“Wait. Can’t we keep them for us?” I asked, reaching for the bag of cookies. I knew that I sounded selfish, but I was hungry. And worried that this was the last food I’d have for a while.
Yoss frowned, but let me take a few cookies. “Imi, one of the first things you’ll learn out here is that we’ve got to look out for each other. We stick together because it’s easier to survive if someone else has your back.”
I felt like an asshole. It wasn’t the first time since I had met Yossarian that I felt that way.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize. It’s cool. You’ll figure it out. Or you won’t. I kind of hope you don’t.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why would you say that?”
Yoss shrugged, looking at me through thick, black lashes. “Because that means you’ll go back home. A girl like you is too good for a life like this,” he said softly and I couldn’t breathe around the lump in my throat.
“Come on, let’s head over to the bridge. Everyone meets up there in the morning,” he said, taking a bite of cookie.
“Okay.” I grabbed one of the plastic bags he was holding and put the cookies back. Yoss watched me, but didn’t say anything. “More to share. I’m full anyway,” I explained sheepishly.
We walked the five blocks to the Seventh Street Bridge, the same place I had met Yoss the evening before. Unlike The Pit, underneath the bridge was less intimidating in the light of day. The fires were all dead and it was mostly deserted except for a small group of teenagers hanging out on by a pile of crumbled brick and asphalt.
“Hey guys, breakfast is served,” Yoss called out, tossing the bag of cookies to a small girl with a shaved head and tattoos up and down her thin arms.
“It’s about time. I was just getting ready to head off for my day at the office writing reports and shit,” a kid with short blond hair and a crooked nose laughed.
“More like getting ready to find some old lady’s wallet to pinch,” an older boy with long brown hair muttered, grabbing a roll and taking a bite.
All of the kids looked to be about my age or a little older. And all of them were way too skinny. I stood just behind Yoss, not sure what to say. I felt incredibly out of place.
A girl with uneven red hair and a lip ring glanced my way. “Who’s the fresh meat?” she asked, nodding her head in my direction.
Yoss pulled me from behind his back. He glanced at his friends then at me. “Guys, this is Imogen. Imogen, these are the guys,” he said by way of introduction. He pointed at the girl with the buzzed head. “That’s Di. The lovely vixen to my left is Karla.” Yoss grinned at the red-haired girl and she blushed. She gave him the sort of dewy-eyed look that I recognized. She liked him. A lot. Not that I blamed her.
“The ugly fucker over there with the shitty sense of humor is Bug.” Yoss pointed to the blond boy who joked about going to the office. He was flicking a silver lighter over and over again.
“Bug?” I asked.
“Because we all want to crush him under our shoe. He’s really annoying,” Di snickered, grabbing another cookie.
“Whatever. You assholes just don’t get how awesome I am,” Bug quipped, rolling his eyes.
“I’m Shane. Nice to meet you,” the longhaired boy said, holding out his hand for me to shake, which surprised me.
Yoss snorted. “Is this a freaking job interview? You’re such a tool, man.”
“There’s a lot to be said for good manners. Isn’t that right, Imogen?” Shane gave me a smile.
“Sure,” I agreed, not knowing what else to say.
“Is this the chick Tag was bitching about? The one you snatched away from him before he could get his predatory hands on her?” Di asked, talking with her mouth full.
“Yuck, chew with your mouth closed. You’re getting food all over me,” Karla griped.
Di ignored her. Bug gave Yoss a wide-eyed look that definitely gave him an insect appearance. I understood the nickname now. “He was pissed as hell about that, man. I’d watch your back.”
“Well, he knows where to find me,” Yoss replied dismissively. I wasn’t sure he should be so cavalier about this Tag guy. He had scared me plenty last night. He seemed like a man you didn’t want to mess with.
Karla was giving me the ubiquitous once over I was used to from other females. She moved closer to Yoss who seemed oblivious to her possessiveness.
“Manny was looking for you,” Shane said, shoving the last of the roll into his mouth.
Yoss immediately tensed up. “Oh, okay. Thanks for letting me know.” He drew his shoulders up and moved away from me. “We’re going to head down to The Pavilion, see if there’s anything going on. We’ll catch up with you later.”
He started to walk away from his friends and I guessed I was expected to follow. Karla gave me a nasty look, which I returned blankly. I didn’t think we were going to be best friends any time soon.
“Don’t forget to find Manny. He’s got some stuff for you to do later,” Shane called out as we were
leaving.
Yoss put his hand on my back and steered me away from the group. His eyes had gone hard and he worked his teeth back and forth across his lower lip.
“Who’s Manny?” I asked once we were out of everyone’s earshot. Yoss’ entire demeanor had changed. I wanted to understand why.
“He’s just a guy we all know. He, uh, well, he kind of looks out for all the kids around here,” Yoss answered dismissively, as though it were nothing. As if Manny were nothing.
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“Yeah,” he said shortly.
We walked along the old railroad tracks. I didn’t really know where we were going. This wasn’t a part of the city I had ever spent much time in, apart from the handful of times I had been here with Amanda.
“So Manny looks out for you and in turn you do stuff for him,” I deduced.
Yoss glanced down at me in surprise. “Uh, yeah, I guess so.” He seemed uncomfortable with my perceptiveness. He didn’t want to talk about Manny or whatever he had to do for him.
“Are you into drugs, Yoss? Because I don’t do drugs,” I said in a rush.
Yoss stopped walking and turned to look down at me, his face guarded but his eyes clear. He put his hands on my shoulders and leaned down so our faces were close together. “I don’t do drugs, Imi. That’s not my scene. I want to have a clear head, all the time. No matter how bad or ugly things are.”
I let out a sigh of relief. I knew drugs were the norm with kids my age. Especially ones that lived out here. I had seen enough of my own classmates strung out on one thing or another. I wasn’t some pure white Pollyanna either. I had smoked weed a few times and even ate ’shrooms once.
But I had also seen my mother high on more than a few occasions and it had always freaked me out.
In a short amount of time I was coming to rely on Yoss. I didn’t want to depend on a drug addict.
“Okay. Good.” I smiled up at him and he smiled back.
His eyes were soft as he looked at me and there was something about his expression that made my stomach flip. “When you smile, Imogen, it lights up your whole face. Did you know that?”
I ducked my head, feeling embarrassed by the compliment. I didn’t take them well, I never had.
I heard Yoss chuckle and he dropped his hands from my shoulders. “Let’s go see what we can do with the day. It looks like it’s going to be a hot one. I hope you know how to swim.”
“Yeah, I can swim.”
“Good, because I know just the place to go,” he said.
For now we were only two teenagers hanging out.
My day had seemed bleak when I woke up.
Now…not so much.
Present Day
He looked at me like I was a ghost. And to him, maybe I was.
A part of a past he had let go of.
Because he had purposefully kept his distance. He had decided that I had no part in his life.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. He winced and I knew it hurt for him to speak.
Of the hundreds of things he could have asked me, what I was doing there seemed woefully insufficient.
No, hey, how’s it going?
Or, whatcha been up to the last fifteen years?
His question was almost accusatory.
“I work here,” I said, sitting back in my chair. I realized I was still holding his hand and dropped it quickly.
His green eyes flared to life and then died. It was the saddest thing I had ever seen.
He tried to turn his head away from me, but his injuries made movement difficult. Yoss sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.
“Oh,” was all he said. The tears that had been falling down his face dried and disappeared. Like they never existed. As though I had imagined them.
I hadn’t known what to expect when he opened his eyes.
I did know that I hadn’t prepared myself for the frosty greeting he was giving me.
At one time I had been able to read Yoss clearly. He never hid his emotions from me. He loved openly. He despaired loudly. He raged forcefully.
He had fed me his dreams and I had given him mine. There wasn’t a piece of his soul that I didn’t recognize and claim as my own.
At one time we had been two pieces of the same messed up puzzle. He learned my secrets and I discovered the ones he had guarded so fiercely.
But this man—I didn’t know him. His green eyes were cold. Resentful.
His jaw was tense and his hands were fists.
“Yoss, what happened?” I asked.
He ignored me, staring past me. Through me. I might as well not have been there at all.
“Yoss!” I said a little louder. I gripped my pen, the cold metal bit into my skin. “Please. I just want to know who did this to you.”
Yoss glanced at me again. His eyes roaming over my face. Then he looked away again. “I’m tired,” he responded shortly.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be pestering you.” I gathered the paperwork I had been filling out and got to my feet. I didn’t want to leave. But it was obvious Yoss didn’t want me to stay.
This was a bad idea. I couldn’t work his case. I’d never be able to help him when through a handful of words he let me know that he wanted nothing from me.
Green eyes hard and unyielding. Mouth firm and unforgiving.
What had I ever done to him to deserve this kind of reception? When had his love transformed into this?
“I’ll let you rest.” I started to head towards the door but stopped, glancing back. It was a compulsion that I couldn’t resist. I hadn’t seen him in so long that my eyes craved the sight of him.
I had so many questions that needed answered, but right then I just wanted to look at him.
I should have been surprised to find him watching me. But I wasn’t. We had always been like magnets drawn together. His eyes burned with an intensity that I recognized.
I shivered. He had always left me trembling.
His eyes were less guarded. In that split second that I caught him staring, I saw the pain. The anguish.
It was all mixed up with something I had hoped to see.
Joy.
“I’m so glad to see you,” I told him quietly.
The emotions I had seen plainly on his face were quickly replaced with a chill I didn’t understand.
“I wish I could say the same thing,” he remarked, his voice hard and broken.
I felt each word like a knife to the gut.
Without saying anything else, I left his room. I didn’t look back again.
The tears wouldn’t fall. Not with eyes full of condemnation watching my retreat.
My house was dark by the time I got home that evening. I unlocked the door of my modest three-bedroom ranch style house and let myself inside. I added the day’s mail to the teetering pile on the table in the hallway and made my way to the living room, turning on every light as I passed.
It was uncomfortably quiet. Too quiet.
I had always hated silence.
Usually when I was home I turned on the television to give the illusion of other people in the room with me.
It used to drive Chris nuts. We lived in a constant state of war where I’d turn up the volume and he’d immediately turn it down.
“You’re not even watching it, Imogen!” he’d complain. Our marriage had been full of nitpicking and disagreements. We had never really worked. We had nothing in common. Hell, I didn’t even really like him most of the time.
But I hadn’t wanted to be alone. To me, that was a fate worse than death.
I had grown up in a house where I may as well have been invisible. I was desperate to create a different kind of family. One where I was loved and appreciated.
I had known Chris for years. We had met at college two years after I had lost Yoss. I hadn’t realized then that I was still rebounding from the boy I had only loved for a brief time.
With Chris things were…bland.
I had made myself believe th
at passion didn’t matter. That it only led to heartache and empty promises, which I had no time or energy for.
Chris wasn’t particularly attractive, but he was considerate. He could be kind. He had made me smile when I didn’t have a whole lot to smile about. Things had been okay and that was good for me.
But okay quickly became not enough.
Chris never understood my strange idiosyncrasies. He had no patience for my hoarding tendencies or my need to settle and not move. He knew some of the parts of my history. I had explained my strained relationship with my mother. How I never felt wanted or important. I had even told him about my time as a homeless teenager, sleeping at The Pit and digging in the trash for food.
But I never told him about Yoss.
Why had I felt the need to hide such an important person from my husband?
Was it guilt? Was it regret? Was it the fact that I had never quite gotten over my first love?
Chris never knew that every few months I would walk down by the river at sunset. I’d follow the railroad tracks to the Seventh Street Bridge. I’d hang back by the trees and wait for the fires to be lit. I’d watch and I’d look.
I never stayed there long. Just a few minutes. An hour at most. I hadn’t wanted to linger in case someone recognized me.
Sometimes I’d see Karla and Shane. The years hadn’t been kind to either of them.
But I wasn’t there for them.
Years had passed; I should have long since let go. But how did you let go of something that never really felt over? How did you let go of someone that had changed you from the inside out?
I turned on the television, feeling myself relax as I raised the volume to fill the silence. I took off my coat and threw it over the back of the couch. I kicked off my shoes and slid my feet into the waiting pair of slippers shaped like cartoon elephants that I bought on a whim during one of my many random shopping sprees.
There was a knock on my door. I didn’t bother going to open it, knowing that the person on the other side would walk in anyway.
“Hey! I saw your car out front!”
One Day Soon Page 6