One Day Soon (One Day Soon, #1)(98)

“We could head back to the bridge—”

“That’s not good enough. You need a bed. A shower. Food. Those are the things you deserve, Imogen. Nothing less.” He sounded so angry. He kissed the top of my head, his fingers threading up into my hair that was now damp from the falling snow.

“Where can we go though? There’s no way we can go back to The Pit.” A bed and a shower sounded like some sort of dream. I couldn’t let myself get excited at the idea.

“I’ll make this right. I promise,” he said quietly. I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me.

To himself.

To Bug.

“Let’s go,” he said, tucking me into his side to shield me as best he could from the wind that had picked up.

“Where are we going?” I asked as we headed back towards town. I shivered and I wasn’t sure it was entirely from the cold.

“I don’t know,” Yoss replied and it was the truest statement he could ever say.



We walked the streets of Lupton for over an hour. Neither of us had slept the night before and could barely walk from hunger and exhaustion.

“I know where we can go,” Yoss said finally, turning us down a side street in a rougher part of town.

Yoss chewed on his bottom lip, dark circles ringing his eyes. His hair was plastered against his forehead from the snow that continued to fall.

“Where?” I asked, barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

“A place I know. We can at least be somewhere warm for the night.” He looked down at me, pushing my tangled hair back from my face. “I love you, Imi. I’ll make this right.”

We ended up at a sleazy looking motel that sat back off the street. We walked into a lobby that smelled strongly of Pine Sol and urine. It made me want to gag but at least it was warm.

An older woman sat behind the front desk, her blue rinse hair piled on top of her head in haphazard curls, a pair of glasses sliding down her nose. She looked up as we approached, smiling when she saw Yoss.

“Yoss, how are you? I haven’t seen you in a while, which makes my heart happy.” She gave him a pointed look that was both kind and mildly judgmental.

Yoss coughed and glanced towards me. “Mae, this is Imogen. We need some place to sleep. I don’t have any money, but I can pay you back. There was a fire where we live and I want to get Imi out of the cold for the night.” He was rambling. And nervous. I couldn’t quite figure out why. He seemed uncomfortable being here. There was subtext in the words being said and the looks Mae gave him.

My stomach twisted and turned.

Mae patted his cheek and then patted mine. Her giant hand was clammy and hot. “Of course, you can have a room. Maybe a different one.” Pointed looks. Again, more insinuation.

Yoss nodded. “Yeah, that would be great,” he said with relief.

Mae looked between Yoss and me. “This is nice to see. I’ve always told Manny you needed a nice girl to settle down with. He wouldn’t hear it. Not surprising though.” Her eyes cut through me and I trembled.

“Don’t, Mae,” Yoss pleaded quietly, his shoulders rigid, his jaw tight.

“I know, I know. I’ve got a big mouth sometimes,” Mae laughed. The entire thing was strange. And uncomfortable.

How did Mae know Manny? The fact that she did lowered her in my estimation. Even if she was giving us a free room for the night.

I looked around the lobby of the rundown motel. It was completely empty. But there was a feeling inside. A sad, lonely, desperate sort of feeling that I felt deep in my bones.

Mae handed Yoss a key. “Here you go, sweetheart. You can stay the night, but I’ll need you out of the room by noon, okay?”

Yoss took the key, gripping it in his fist. “Thank you, Mae. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem. You kids sleep well. It looks like you need it.” Mae’s smile was full of sympathy. It rubbed me the wrong way and I wasn’t sure why.

“Come on, Imi.” Yoss took my hand and led me back outside. We walked across the parking lot and stopped in front of room twenty-three. Yoss put the key in the door and opened it, turning on the light as we went inside.

The room smelled stale and clearly hadn’t had a remodel since the seventies. A double bed with an orange and brown duvet was pushed against the back wall. A small table was crammed into a corner with two mismatched chairs. A TV was bolted to the wall with what looked like a heavy chain and padlock.

“It’s not much, but at least it’s dry,” Yoss said, cranking the thermostat. The radiator started clanging but soon the room was toasty. Almost too hot. But neither of us cared. It was nice to be out of the cold.

“It’s great, Yoss.” I took off my wet shoes and left them by the door.

We both peeled off our socks and draped them over the radiator. I hung my jacket over one of the chairs and took off the hoodie that I hadn’t removed in months. It smelled horrible.

I went into the bathroom and could have cried. There was a bar of soap, two wrapped razors, and a small bottle of shampoo by the sink. Thin, yellow towels were folded on a shelf above the toilet. The sight of them was my undoing. The events of the last twenty-four hours crashed into me, and my legs couldn’t hold me up any longer.

I sat down on the edge of the tub and covered my face with my hands crying for so many things. For Bug. For losing what little I owned in the fire. For the new world of uncertainty that Yoss and I were forced to navigate now that The Pit was gone.