Di yanked on Yoss’s arm, pulling him back. “Just leave him, Yoss. You know you can’t talk to him when he’s like this.”
Yoss made a noise of disgust. “You’re gonna kill yourself, you fucking idiot. That crap you buy from Dez is nothing but bleach and cough syrup. What the hell are you doing?”
Bug lifted a sluggish hand and waved away Yoss’s comment. “Shut up, I’m not on anything. Maybe just a little bud. Leave me alone.” Then he rolled onto his side, his fingers running through the grass over and over again. “I just want to stay here and feel the earth. That’s all. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Come on, we just have to leave him,” Di urged.
“What’s wrong with him?” I whispered. Most of the time Bug was a funny, sweet kid. But there were times he was something else.
“He’s a junkie, that’s what’s wrong with him,” Yoss growled. He grabbed my hand again and pulled me towards the embankment. “Come on. Let’s go to the carnival. If he chokes on his own vomit, that’s on him.”
I had never heard Yoss sound so pissed off. It worried me. I glanced back at Bug and he hadn’t moved. Di followed us as we made our way into town, following the curves of the railroad tracks.
“Shouldn’t someone stay with him—” I started to suggest. It wasn’t like Yoss to be so dismissive about his friends.
“He’ll be okay, Imi. He does this shit all the time,” Yoss said more gently, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. “He went three weeks this time without using that crap. I had hoped…” His words trailed off, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air.
“You know as well as I do that he can’t just stop, Yoss. Don’t be so naïve,” Di chastised.
“You did,” Yoss pointed out, flicking ash onto the ground.
“Yeah, well I wasn’t willing to do the things Bugs does to score. Not all of us have the stomach for that,” she said and Yoss tensed, his face stony.
“Some people don’t have a choice. But Bug does. And that shit will kill him,” Yoss said softly.
Di patted him on the back. “Let it go, man. You’ve got your girl beside you. It’s a beautiful day. We’re going to a fucking carnival. Don’t let Bug’s bullshit ruin it.”
Yoss squeezed my hand, taking another drag of his cigarette, and my heart felt full despite the knot I felt in my stomach about Bug.
Di had just called me Yoss’s girl.
Is that what I was?
Was I Yoss’s girl?
“You’re right.” Yoss beamed his pretty smile down at me and even though there were a hundred things to feel bad about, right then everything felt right.
“Were you planning to leave us behind? Seriously?” Karla called out. She and Shane scrambled up the side of the hill, joining us.
“Can you keep your charming personality in check?” Di asked with a healthy dose of sarcasm. I snorted and then coughed to cover it up.
Yoss nudged me with his elbow. “Hey, none of that,” he whispered, his mouth close to my ear. f I turned my head right then, our lips would meet. What would he do if I kissed him first?
Would he pull away? Would he kiss me back?
Was I really his girl?
Karla stuck out her tongue and hurried to Yoss’s other side. “You doing to the carnival?”
“That’s the plan,” Yoss told her.
“Cool. I know a guy who’s working the cotton candy booth. I bet he’ll give us some for free,” she said sweetly.
“I bet I can figure out how she knows him,” Di muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes.
Karla ignored her.
“That sounds awesome.” Yoss dropped his cigarette onto the ground and then put his arm around her bony shoulders. I tried not to get jealous. It was hard when I noticed the dreamy smile on Karla’s face.
The center of town was teeming with people. I could smell the carnival before I saw it. Fried food and sugar.
It was an annual tradition. I remember as a child begging my mother to take me. If she were in a particularly good mood, we would go.
I recalled sticky faces and my stomach flipping over as I screamed and screamed on the Scrambler. My mom used to take sadistic delight in making me get on rides that made me nauseated.
I couldn’t help but feel excited though. There was something about the sound of rigged games, the dirt on your shoes as you walked the midway, the press of the crowd as they pushed their way to the next ride that made me feel like a kid again.
“Come on, let’s head over there.” Yoss pointed to a low overhang of trees on the edge of the carnival.
“Imogen, Di, and I could try charming the hottie at the gate,” Karla suggested.
The “hottie” was a middle-aged guy with more hair than teeth, and that wasn’t saying much.
“Come on, Karla.” Di grabbed her arm and pulled her along with the rest of us.
Yoss glanced around and quickly took off his shirt, laying it over the fence. I tried not to stare at his lean, tanned frame.
Like the rest of us, Yoss was skinny. I could see the outline of his ribs underneath his skin but he was beautiful despite that. My mouth became uncomfortably dry and I wasn’t the only one staring. Karla was grinning suggestively.
“Just hop over,” Yoss instructed. Shane was first. He climbed over with little effort. Di followed him. Then Karla. She struggled a little and conveniently had to hold onto Yoss.
“You coming, Imi? I can’t hold the fence down forever.” Yoss laughed and I scrambled over the barbed wire. My hand pressed into his chest as I used him to leverage myself up and over.
It was only when I was close that I saw the scars. Lots of them. I had seen a few around his neck and collarbone, but it was nothing compared to what was hidden by his clothes.
Long, jagged lines. Small, white circles. Crisscrosses over his chest. On his back.
Up and down his arms.
He was a patchwork of pain.
My fingers recoiled at the feel of the rough skin and I hated myself for it. Because Yoss noticed and the guilt was overwhelming.
“It’s okay. Some of them have been there a long time,” he whispered, his eyes heartbreaking.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Hurry up! Are you guys just going to hang out by the fence all day?” Karla complained.
I waited for Yoss to climb over and he quickly put his shirt back on, hiding his scars once again.
“Let’s go,” Yoss said. He pulled out a small wad of cash from his pocket. “We can even get some tickets to go on the rides.”
I didn’t want to use that money. But I couldn’t tell him no. I didn’t want to hurt him. Not ever.
“Sounds good,” I told him, relieved when he took my hand again.
For the next hour, the five of us had a great time. Karla was able to flirt her way onto the Ferris wheel, and the rest of us got free rides too. We scored some cotton candy and caramel apples from the guy Karla had mentioned earlier. He certainly leered at her as though he knew her well enough.
My chin was sticky and Yoss laughed as he wiped my face. “I can’t take you anywhere,” he joked, licking caramel off his finger.
We were standing in line to get into the House of Mirrors. Karla, Shane, and Di were watching the really bad band play on the stage. Yoss had gotten us a few tickets for the attractions and I felt like maybe, it was a date.
Did homeless kids actually have dates? Was it possible?
Is that was this was?
“I’m a messy eater, what can I say?” I shrugged, grinning the whole time.
“You’ve got some on the corner of your mouth.” Yoss ran his thumb along my lower lip and our eyes met. They heated. They boiled over.
He was going to kiss me. Finally.
I leaned in. He leaned in. We were so, so close.
My eyes fluttered shut and I waited to feel his mouth on mine.
Then nothing.
I opened my eyes to find Yoss had taken a step back and was star
ing at something just over my right shoulder. He looked as though he were going to throw up.
I turned around and didn’t see anything that would cause his expression. I only saw families. Lots of screaming children. A few flustered mothers and a bunch of indulgent fathers.
“Yoss? What is it?” I asked.
An older man with dark hair greying at the temples stood behind us with a small child. The little girl at his knee had bouncing blonde curls and a heart shaped face. She tugged on the man’s jeans.
“Daddy! I wanna go see the clown!” she whined.
Her daddy wasn’t listening to her. Because he was staring at Yoss intensely. Looking like, he too, was going to be ill.
Yoss turned quickly away. I recognized his shame. His disgust.
At first I wondered if this was Yoss’s father, but I knew, deep down, that wasn’t who the man was.
There was something odd in the way he stared at Yoss. There was recognition there.
But it was wrong.
“Yoss,” I whispered urgently, trying to get his attention.
“I think I’d rather go check out the Tilt-A-Whirl instead, okay,” Yoss said lightly, forcing a smile.
I glanced back at the dad who was now holding his daughter close to his chest, stroking her hair, trying not to look at Yoss. And failing.
“Come on.” Yoss was already moving out of line. He didn’t take my hand again. He didn’t even look to see if I was behind him.
“Where’s the fire?” I called out, struggling to keep up with him.
Yoss came up short and I almost collided with his back. “Are you hungry? I can get you a hamburger. I’ve got money.” He pulled the cash out his pocket again and I noticed that his hand was shaking.
“Who was that, Yoss?” I asked him.
“Come on, the hamburger stand is back this way.” Yoss pulled on my hand, but I wouldn’t move.
“Who was that? Tell me!” I may have shouted a little. I noticed that a few people were looking at us. I made sure to lower my voice before I spoke again. “Who was that man?”
Yoss bent down so that his face was close to mine. “Sometimes you make good choices. Sometimes you make bad ones. But they’re all made for a reason that seems to make sense at the time.” He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, they burned and I almost forgot to breathe. “I keep making those kind of decisions. They seem logical. I have my reasons. But then I look at you and I realize that those reasons aren’t good ones. But I’ve been stuck for a long time, Imi. I’m not sure that I know how to get unstuck.”
“I’ll help you, Yoss. You help me every single day, let me do the same for you.”
He lifted our clasped hands and pressed them to his chest. I could feel the excited thump of his heart beneath his shirt. “You feel that?” I nodded. We stared at each other, long and hard. There was so much I wanted to say. I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Overwhelmed, but hopeful.
Yoss tapped my hand in time with the beating beneath my palm. He smiled. Just a small one. “I think that’s me getting unstuck.” He squeezed my hand and I felt full.
The moment was tense. But it was the best kind of tension.
Yoss kissed the back of my hand and I felt it everywhere. In my fingertips. In my toes. Deep down in my heart. “I want to buy you a hamburger. Or some cotton candy. Or a funnel cake.”
I shook my head. “You don’t need to buy me anything.”
What I didn’t say is that I didn’t want him to use that money. But I had a good idea who that man was. And some of that money in Yoss’s pocket had most likely belonged to him.
“I like buying you things. It makes me happy,” Yoss admitted almost shyly. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Earlier, Di called you my girl.” He cupped the side of my neck. “Are you?”
“Am I what?” I asked, being deliberately obtuse.
“Are you my girl?” He sounded breathless. His whole body vibrating with anticipation.
“How can I be your girl when you haven’t even kissed me yet?” I asked boldly.
“I’m scared to kiss you,” he whispered, his lips quivering, his green eyes full.
My blood whooshed noisily in my ears and I felt a little lightheaded. We were so close, but I wanted to be closer.
So did he. But I could tell that the idea terrified him.
“Don’t be,” I murmured, reaching out and placing my palm over his heart. He was beautiful.
And right then, in that moment, he was mine.
There were no faceless men.
There was no shame. No guilt.
No things left unsaid and smiles that turned sad.
Toe to toe.
Lips almost touching.
Eyes locked. Never letting go.
“I want to be yours,” I told him sincerely.
Yoss reached up and covered my hand with his. “I want to be yours,” he echoed.
He leaned down.
Just enough.
I felt his breath first and I shivered. Everywhere.
Then he kissed me and it was like waking up.
It was like flying.
It was like everything.
Soft, firm lips melted against mine. I opened my mouth slightly and I moaned at the touch of his tongue.
Frenzied. Panicked. Delirious.
Yoss wrapped his arms around me to keep me upright. Fingers digging into my back. Through my clothes, into skin.
I gripped the front of his shirt, still feeling the beating, beating of his heart.
He pulled back slightly, looking almost dazed.
“I’ve never been kissed before. Not like that,” he whispered, his eyes bright.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my lips tingling from his mouth.
“Like I don’t ever want to stop.” He leaned down and kissed me again, harder this time. I could feel the slide of his tongue along the seam of my lips. “It feels like I’m falling, Imi,” he breathed.
“I’ll catch you,” I promised.
Lies. So many of them. They became our truth.
They would be our end.
Present
Unexpected phone calls were not a great way to start the day.
“Hello?”
“Imogen Marie. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for days!”
I locked my front door behind me, balancing my phone between my cheek and my shoulder, all the while trying not to sigh nosily in my mother’s ear.
“I’ve been busy,” I excused.
“Well I’ve got man troubles and I needed to talk to my girl.” I could practically hear my mom’s pout.
“What else is new?” I muttered, not bothering to be overly quiet.
“I deserved that,” Mom responded with a slight chuckle. “When will I learn that a huge dick and a hot set of abs doesn’t necessarily mean long-term commitment?”
“Seriously, Mom? I don’t need to hear about you and dicks and abs. It’s too early in the morning for those kinds of visuals.” My mother cackled on the other end, clearly enjoying herself.
It had taken us years to build any sort of relationship. It had been slow. At times painful. It had required a lot of adjustment—on my part. Because I had learned, the older I got, that my mother was way past changing. And I either had to accept her for all of her faults, or be miserable and resentful.
I had opted for acceptance. Though, at times, it was a bitter pill to swallow.
After I returned home following my time as a teenage runaway, it had been rough. Mom had been angry. Adam, her boyfriend at the time, was annoyed that I had put a wrench in his party-and-screw lifestyle he had going on with my mother.
She had screamed at me for what felt like weeks. I had thought her anger was over the top and I hadn’t understood it at all. It had seemed that she was just pissed I had the audacity to come home.
I had been debating whether I should leave again when one evening my mother appeared in my doorway after getting home from work.<
br />
Her mascara was smeared halfway down her face and I knew she had been crying. My mother had always been overly emotional and had never attempted to shield me from her highs and lows. I was always carried along for the ride. But since being on my own I found that I was less affected by her moods. I had learned to accept this part of her.
It was sort of liberating. Letting go of the anger. I realized it had eaten away at me.
There was no sense holding onto it any longer.
“Adam’s gone,” she had sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
I hadn’t been surprised. None of Mom’s boyfriends ever stuck around. Though Adam had been around longer than most.
I knew she expected me to pick up the pieces. It had been my role in her life since I was old enough to understand I had to comfort her and not the other way around.
“I’m sorry,” I had told her, not really meaning it. I didn’t feel sorry. Not in the least.
Mom had stood there, wiping at her face, smearing her makeup even worse. “I didn’t like it when you were gone,” she finally said.
“Even with Adam here? I figured you had your hands full,” I muttered.
“I kept your door shut. It made me too sad. I didn’t like knowing it was empty,” she went on, ignoring my statement. Not bothering to explain why, if she was so upset that I was gone, why she had never tried to find out where I went.
She wouldn’t really look at me. Mom could be incredibly immature and childish. Most of the time she acted as though she were younger I was. It made it difficult to relate to her as a kid to parent.
But I had also known that this was as close to an apology that I would ever get from her. I could have yelled at her for not coming to look for me. For allowing me to sleep on the streets. I could have cried and screamed at how she chose men over me time and time again. But I didn’t want to fight. I hadn’t wanted to argue.
Instead I had taken her words for what they were. A peace offering.
And after losing Yoss I had needed something to feel good about.
I had patted my bed, giving her a smile. One that I felt. Mom had come in, sinking down onto the bed beside me. I put my arm around her and she laid her head on my shoulder. She cried for the asshole that broke her heart while being comforted by the only person who ever really loved her. The person she so easily turned her back on when it suited her.
One Day Soon Page 13
