“I don’t know,” I told her truthfully. I didn’t have the energy for lies.
“You can’t go to class looking like you picked your clothes from a dumpster,” Amanda said, crinkling her nose.
“Yeah, because what I’m wearing is my priority right now,” I spat out, annoyed again.
Amanda jerked back in surprise. “I didn’t mean—”
“Look, you came to see if I was okay, well I am. You don’t have to stick around down here. I know you have other things to do.” I wanted her to leave. She was making me think about things that were better left avoided.
Like my mother.
My questionable future.
I felt like I was spinning wildly out of control and I was in for a painful landing.
“Don’t go uber bitch.” Amanda pursed her lips.
“I can’t talk about all of that right now, okay? I can’t think about what my life will be like in two months.” My voice shook. “I think it’s best if you go. I’ll call you when I can, alright?”
Amanda looked torn. “I could speak to your mom,” she suggested and I felt myself getting angry.
“Don’t you dare talk to her! I don’t want her knowing anything about me!” I shouted. Shane and Di looked my way and I knew they were minutes away from coming over to find out what was going on.
“I won’t, okay. No need to bite my head off.” Amanda sniffled and I felt bad for yelling at her. I reached over and quickly squeezed her arm. I tried not to notice how she cringed at the sight of my dirty hands. My nails ragged, the once bright red polish now chipped.
“I’m sorry,” I apologized.
Amanda looked around again and grimaced. “I can’t believe I ever thought it was cool to hang out down here. It’s really kind of scary.”
“It’s not so bad once you get used to it,” I found myself saying, defending the only home I currently had.
Amanda got to her feet, wiping debris from her clothes. “Well, I’d better get going. You’ll call me?”
“Yeah. I’ll call you,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I would. The longer I was out here, the harder it was to hold onto the life I had before.
“Okay. Bye, Imi.” Amanda gave me a quick hug and then hurried off, stumbling in her ridiculous heels. A few of the guys called out to her. She ignored them, all but running up the embankment.
Seeing Amanda had been jarring. I felt depressed. Overwhelmed.
My mother didn’t care where I was. I had suspected it, but the confirmation was a blow. She was living her life as though I weren’t missing. It wouldn’t matter to her that I was living on the streets.
She just didn’t care.
I brought my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs, watching the sun dip lower and lower. The smell of smoke drifted on the breeze, music and laughter sounding so far away.
I stared out towards the river as the day disappeared. I felt dirty and sticky and I wished I could take a shower. I was starting to forget what it felt like to be clean.
I was lonely. But it wasn’t a new feeling. I realized I had always felt that way. Even when I was surrounded by friends. Even when my mother and I were in the same room.
My heart clinched painfully.
I wasn’t alone with Yoss.
For the first time in my sixteen years I felt as though someone genuinely cared about me. My needs came first. My comfort. My happiness. My safety.
I missed Yoss.
I hated when he was gone.
I hated even more where he went.
I tried not think about the things he was doing. Or with whom. Manny’s army of baby-faced hustlers was common knowledge. I noticed that he moved in on the youngest kids, making them feel wanted. Important. That was why Yoss had lied about my age. Manny knew that the youngest were the most desirable. Not only for the men he sold them to. But it was easier to take advantage of their youth.
He wasn’t the classic abusive pimp. He was much, much worse.
He was…nice.
I had learned that Manny didn’t protect his kids with violence and fists. He wouldn’t have been able to do that. He wasn’t tough. He didn’t have muscles. He couldn’t fight.
Instead he used his charm. His affable demeanor. And he used the money he earned off the backs of the boys and girls he claimed to take care of.
He was the king of our sordid kingdom. No one messed with him because at some point, everyone needed what he could offer.
Food. Clothes. Drugs.
He had it all and he shared it with those that pleased him.
You didn’t cross Manny.
You either loved him or you were left out in the cold.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there as the sun continued to set. Then I saw a familiar figure walking along the bank. He was coming from the direction of town, his head bent low, his shoulders slouched. He had his hands tucked into his jeans and he dragged his feet as he moved slowly towards the bridge. He moved stiffly, as though in pain.
My heart instantly leapt at the sight of him. And then it fell just as fast.
This is what broken looked like.
He was almost upon me before he finally looked up, finding me sitting there on my pile of crumpled rock, watching him.
“Hey,” he said softly and his voice sounded strange. Tight. Strangled.
“Hey,” I said back. I studied his face closely. His eyes were dull. His lips red and swollen. There was a cut on the side of his cheek that bled sluggishly.
“Can I join you?” he asked and I nodded.
I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but I knew he’d only tell me a lie.
And I couldn’t stomach his dishonesty.
“Why are you over here by yourself? Are you okay?” Yoss asked, sitting close, but not touching.
I wanted to tell him everything. About Amanda’s visit. About my mom. About how much I wanted to cry.
But I looked up into his face and I couldn’t.
Here was a boy barely holding himself together. He seemed as though he wanted to curl into himself. I wanted to shield him from everything horrible. Everything ugly.
Just as he had been trying to do for me.
Yossarian Frazier wasn’t an overly complicated person. He was smart. He was thoughtful. He was generous and kind. He was loyal to a fault.
And he was someone who had been forced to make choices that would shatter most people. I could see the fragments being chipped away little by little as he struggled to hold on.
Yet he still sat beside me, with concern on his face, wanting to know if I was all right. When it was obvious he wasn’t.
So I wouldn’t add my baggage to his overburdened shoulders. I couldn’t do that to him.
“I’m fine. Just wanted some alone time. It was getting a little loud over there,” I said with as sincere a smile as I could muster.
Yoss glanced over my shoulder towards where his friends were hanging out and nodded. “I get that.”
We both stared up into the sky—red, orange, purple, vibrant, violent colors.
“Did you ever read fairytales as a kid?” I asked him suddenly.
Yoss frowned and gave me an amused smile. His too red lips stretching uncomfortably. “Yeah, I guess so. Why?”
I shrugged. “I always liked the idea of a happily ever after. That no matter what horrible things happened to people, everything ended up exactly how it should. With the perfect kiss. The fancy wedding. The evil stepsisters being forced to work as maids in the castle.” I laughed self-consciously. “I think maybe now more than any other time in my life, I could use a fairytale ending.”
I startled at the feel of Yoss’s hand on mine. He carefully, so gently, laced our fingers together.
Palm to palm.
“Tell me a story then, Imi. I want to hear a happy ending.”
A happy ending.
What did one of those even look like?
I continued to stare into the sky and I felt something inside of me shift.
&nb
sp; With Yoss’s hand in mine I knew something with a certainty that came with being young and crazy about a boy who was crazy about me.
My happy ending was Yoss.
Yoss’s happy ending was me.
So I gave him the story I wished we had. The one that was full of fantasy. Improbable. Unrealistic. But there was truth in it as well.
The best kind.
“Once upon a time there was a girl from a happy family. She was loved and adored and never wanted for anything. She spent her days surrounded by friends and family. She smiled all the time, never having a reason to cry.” Yoss squeezed my hand and I took a deep breath.
“One day she met a boy who was just as happy. And together they realized how wonderful life could be. He wanted to take care of her. She wanted to stay by his side.” Yoss rested his chin on top of my head, and I leaned into him.
So close.
The closest yet.
“The girl had never been to the beach.”
“Neither had the boy,” Yoss added in a whisper, his lips moving against my hair.
“They decided to run away to the shore. Where they could dip their toes in the water and walk on the sand. Because everything was always better when they were together.”
“Did they live happily ever after? On the beach? Always together?” Yoss asked, his voice breaking.
I couldn’t look up at him because I knew what I’d see.
And I wasn’t prepared to see his doubt.
“Of course they did. Always together,” I murmured, shivering as the sun disappeared.
Yoss ran his thumb along the inside of my wrist. Slowly. Carefully. “We’ll walk on the beach, Imi, and we’ll dance on the sand. Because one day soon, I promise you that all this ugly will become something beautiful.” Did he believe that? How could he given where he spent his day? Where he sometimes spent his nights? How could he afford to dream the impossible?
But I wanted to dream with him.
I had to.
“I know, Yoss. One day soon,” I agreed.
We stayed like that for a long time, neither of us moving. I wasn’t sure if it was out of fear. Or out of contentment.
Whatever it was, it kept us still.
Lost in dreams neither of us really believed would ever come true.
Present Day
“Good morning, you’re looking a little better this morning,” I said brightly, walking into Yoss’s room with my laptop bag and a smile on my face.
“And you’re full of shit,” he chuckled, struggling to sit up.
“Let me help you,” I said quickly, hurrying to his side.
“I’m fine. You don’t need to do anything,” Yoss snapped, freezing me with his cold, cold voice. My hands, which had been poised ready to readjust his pillows, dropped back to my sides and I took a step back.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
“Why are you here?” he asked gruffly and I wanted to scowl at him.
Just last night he had asked me to stay.
I held his hand until he had fallen asleep.
It was the happiest I could remember being in a long time.
Last night he had let down his walls long enough for me to see him. The Yoss Frazier I remembered. And I had missed him—missed us—so much.
Apparently a good night’s sleep resurrected his need to keep me at arm’s length.
He was about to become reacquainted with my stubborn side.
“I’m your caseworker, remember?” I reminded him, sitting down, hands on top of my bag.
“And what does my caseworker need to grill me about today? I would have thought I gave you enough of my depressing story yesterday,” he remarked shortly, scratching at the healing stitches on his arm.
“I spoke with Dr. Howell, he said the results of your liver function test should be ready by this afternoon. Then you will know your options for treatment,” I told him.
“Yeah. Treatment,” he responded dully.
“I’ve also made some calls and there are a couple of beds open at the Salvation Army—”
“I’m not staying in a shelter, Imogen,” he interrupted.
“You have nowhere to go,” I argued.
“I’ll find somewhere. I always do. But I won’t go to the Salvation Army,” he said emphatically.
“I think you’re being unreasonable, Yoss. You can be safe there—”
“I was stabbed in the leg and the back of the hand at the Salvation Army a few years ago. All because some meth head wanted my bag of Doritos. I think you overestimate the safety there,” he remarked harshly.
That explained the scar on his hand that I had noticed yesterday.
“Oh. I had no idea—”
“It’s okay, Imi. You didn’t know,” Yoss said, his face smoothing out. Green eyes less frigid.
I had always done my job well. I knew how to be supportive, understanding. But I was having a hard time calling up those qualities that had served me so well in the past.
I wanted to help Yoss, but it was hard when our history smacked me in the face every time I saw him.
“Maybe we should talk about making a plan—”
Yoss snorted and I raised an eyebrow. “I seem to remember being the one to tell you the same thing a long time ago,” he mused and I couldn’t help but smile.
“You told me to figure out a plan. You made me promise.”
“I’m glad you kept it,” he said.
“I like to keep my promises,” I replied sharply. I hadn’t meant to sound so accusatory, but it seemed old bitterness found its way into our conversation, no matter how I tried to keep it out.
Yoss’s eyes went frosty again and I berated myself for ruining our moment of ease.
“So your plan,” I began, pulling out the blank service agreement. Yet more paperwork I needed to fill out. More paperwork that I was thankful I could fall back on when things became completely awkward. “We can talk about steps to get you your own place maybe since you’re so adverse to a shelter.”
“I had an apartment,” he stated, changing the subject.
I glanced up from the paper in my lap. “You did? When?” I didn’t mean to sound so surprised.
Yoss’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “About five years ago I moved into a little place above the bakery and coffee shop on Vine. Do you remember it?” He was challenging me.
I held my chin up a little higher. “Yes, of course I do.” I was very familiar with the dumpsters behind it specifically.
“I even had a job. It wasn’t much. I was a handyman for the apartment complex on the south side of town. I lived there for almost three years.”
“That sounds great.” I was happy to hear that at least, for a time, Yoss had been doing okay.
“Yeah, it was for a while. But then I was laid off. The apartment complex hired a new manager and he didn’t need two full-time maintenance men, so I got the ax. I was going to try to find something else but then my grandma died…” he drifted off into silence and I knew he was battling with some heavy emotions.
“I’m so sorry, Yoss. She was a great lady,” I said, meaning every word. I knew how much he loved his grandmother. How much that would have destroyed him.
“It got shitty again after that. I was evicted from my apartment. I didn’t have anywhere to stay,” he said on a sigh.
“Where did you go after that?”
“Here and there. I stayed back in The Pit for a while. Though it’s hardly habitable anymore. Not after the fire.” He glanced at me and I had to look back down at my paperwork.
Memories…lots of them made it hard to breathe.
“There were many nights I spent sleeping in the woods. Shelters, when things were really rough, but after the stabbing thing, I wouldn’t go back there. Then I met Perry and Gail. Perry had just gotten out of jail for drug possession. He’s a Gulf War Vet with some serious PTSD. Lost his job and like the rest of us, had nowhere to go. No one that gave a shit. Except for Gail. She’s an addict though. One of the wors
t I’ve seen. She would hang out by the river to make money and that’s where I met her. They’re good people. Fucked up people, but decent folk. They offered to let me stay with them at the house by The Pavilion. At least it was dry and somewhat warm.”
“What were you doing during the years before you moved to your apartment? Where did you go? Where did you sleep?” Yoss seemed to be in a talkative mood and I wanted to find out as much as I could.
“Around,” Yoss answered dismissively, which irked me.
“Around? What does that mean? Were you still in Lupton?” I demanded.
“I left town for a little while. Not long. Just a month or so.”
“Where did you go?”
“Nowhere important. I stayed for a while after you—” He cut off quickly. “I left but then realized I needed to come back. That life was way worse away from here. I stayed at The Pit some of the time. I met some people and slept on couches, that sort of thing.”
“Why did you need to come back?” I pestered.
“Just did,” he evaded.
Then I went for it. I plunged right into the topic that we were both dancing around.
“Why didn’t you come looking for me?” I asked and instantly wished I could take it back. This wasn’t about me after all. This wasn’t about my pain. My betrayal.
But our feelings had always become tangled up in each other. It was hard to separate one from the other.
Yoss’s eyes found mine again and I felt it.
The connection.
The slow, steady thumping of his heartbeat. And mine.
“Why?” I asked again, a little more insistent this time.
Yoss opened his mouth. Then closed it again.
He appeared conflicted.
“Mr. Frazier, it’s nice to see you a bit more animated,” Dr. Howell said, breaking the spell, ruining the moment. I sagged back in my seat, unfairly annoyed with the doctor for intruding.
Dr. Howell glanced at me, realizing I was there. “Imogen, hello. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have the results of the liver function test. It’s good you’re here, so we won’t have to debrief later.” Smiles. Lots of them. They were all fake.
I had worked with Dr. Howell long enough to know how to read him. And I knew his news wasn’t good.
One Day Soon Page 11
