One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(17)

“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.

“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.