One Day Soon (36 page)

Yoss, who had been looking through an old Viewfinder came over to see what had me so excited.

“What did you say it was?” Yoss asked, taking it from me and peering at it skeptically.

“It’s Kimber!” I told him.

“Am I supposed to know who that is?”

I snatched it back and started to look around the table, getting almost giddy when I found the small electric keyboard that was supposed to go around the doll’s neck.

“Jem and the Holograms. Kimber is the keyboardist. Didn’t you ever watch the show?”

Yoss smirked. “Sorry, I was too busy pretending to be He-Man and G.I. Joe.”

“We didn’t have a TV when I was little. Mom could never afford one. But when our neighbor, Mrs. Tyler, watched me, she would turn on cartoons. Watching Jem was the highlight of my week. I hated it when Mom would show up. She usually did before I could watch the end of the episode. It was like she timed it perfectly to mess up my day.” I chuckled a little uneasily. I hated talking about my mother. Even with Yoss.

Yoss, like always, picked up on my mood and leaned down to kiss my cheek, his arm going around my waist. “If I’m being honest, it sort of looks like someone’s dog got ahold of it.” Yoss looked down at the price tag and made a face. “This person is smoking crack if they think anyone will pay five bucks for this garbage.”

“It’s not in that bad of shape. You should have seen the one I used to play with,” I told him, putting it back on the table a little wistfully.

“Take it then,” Yoss said quietly under his breath, casting a quick look around. “Just tuck it under your sweatshirt. No one will notice. If it means that much to you, you should have it.”

I instantly tensed and for a second my hand hesitated over the doll, tempted to do just as Yoss suggested.

Why not? Who would know?

Stealing was a part of life when you had nothing and nowhere to go. Di stole cigarettes. Yoss stole food. Shane stole bags of gummy bears that he shared with everyone. Bug stole random stuff like lighters and packs of baseball cards. Things that had no real purpose except to make him feel as if he had
something.

I didn’t steal. I couldn’t bring myself to take things that didn’t belong to me. Even when I was at my lowest, I didn’t have it in me to survive at all costs. I was lucky to have Yoss, because otherwise I knew I wouldn’t have lasted long out here.

I put the Kimber doll back on the table and shoved my hands in my pockets. “That’s okay. What would I do with a freaking
doll?”
I scoffed.

Yoss picked up the doll. “Why won’t you just take it if it makes you happy?”

I took the doll from his hand and put it back on the table. “Because I don’t
need
it, Yoss. Neither of us is in a position to have things only because we
want
them,” I said firmly, hating how sad he looked at my words.

He brushed a piece of hair off my face, his thumb caressing the curve of my cheek. “You’re seventeen years old, Imi. You’re too young to think like that.”

Neither of us said any more. I went back to looking through trinkets and Yoss wandered over to a table towards the back, sifting through piles of old comic books and Christmas decorations.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Yoss exclaimed a few minutes later.

I walked over to where he was standing by a table. He held his hand out. “Look at what I just found. I think this might be some kind of sign. What for, I don’t know. But seriously, this is amazing!” he enthused.

I took a peek at what had him so excited. It didn’t look like much. A tarnished silver chain with a red pendant made of chipped ceramic. Nothing that could warrant his reaction.

I gave him an amused look. “It just looks like a necklace to me.”

Yoss held it up, dangling it between his fingers. I noticed that the red charm was actually a strange looking figure with limbs askew in awkward positions. “I don’t get it. Sorry, Yoss.”

“It’s from the cover!” He grinned, wrapping his fingers around it in a tight fist.

“Huh?” I asked dumbly.

“Catch-22. Joseph Heller. Come on, I know you get it.” He spoke in rapid-fire sentences. He lifted my heavy curtain of hair up and laid it over my shoulder. Then he clasped the necklace that seemed to make him so excited around my neck. The red man fell below the hollow of my throat.

It wasn’t a particularly pretty piece of jewelry by any means.

“I know what Catch-22 is. It’s not like you’d let me forget it.” Yoss rolled his eyes. I touched the charm on the chain. It was scratched and a piece of the foot was missing. It had definitely seen better days. “Is this crazy little guy on the cover?” I asked.

He traced his finger along the curves of the red trinket lying on my chest. I shivered. I felt him everywhere, even though he wasn’t touching me. “I remember seeing the book in the library once. After Mom died. It was just a blue cover with this weird looking red guy at the bottom. My dad, who was in an unusually good mood, had pointed at it and told me that it had been my mother’s favorite book. That she was always quoting from it when they were dating. And when I was born she had insisted on naming me Yossarian, even though my dad wanted to name me something boring like George. Mom won, because Dad could never say no to her.” Yoss’s smile became pained. He cupped the side of my neck, his thumb still rubbing the chain.

“What a random find,” I mused, reaching behind my neck to take it off.

“Don’t. I’ll buy it for you,” he insisted, pulling money from his pocket.

“You don’t need to spend money on me—”

“I want you to have it, Imi. I want you to keep it and wear it and that way you’ll always have a little piece of me,” Yoss said.

I let him pay for the necklace. And I wore it always. Never taking it off.

Even years later, after he left me, I couldn’t part with it.

It was my only link to a memory that wouldn’t fade.

“It looks good on you,” Yoss mused, rolling onto his side, propping his head up in his hand. He ran his finger along the tarnished chain at my throat.

I was on my back, staring up at the high, vaulted ceiling, trying to ignore the constant din of noise around us.

“I love it,” I said, turning my head to look at him. His face was so close to mine, our noses almost touching. My stomach rumbled and I felt faintly nauseated from the hunger, but I didn’t complain.

Yoss leaned in, putting his lips on mine. The hunger in my belly was replaced with a thousand flutters.

Someone yelled profanities followed by a crash. The shattering of glass. But his lips stayed on mine.

My hand moved up into his hair. It had gotten long, almost to his shoulders. My mouth opened and I felt his tongue sweep inside. We pressed against each other, my leg going up and over his hip. His hands were on my back, holding me as close as possible.

Yoss kissed me harder, his tongue insistent. I moaned deep and low, feeling a stirring deep down. A warmth that could easily become a raging fire.

He rolled me onto my back and he fit himself between my legs, never breaking the kiss. My heart was hammering in my chest, both exhilarated and hesitant by how fast things were starting to move.

Yoss could be a physically demonstrative guy, but there had always been boundaries to our intimacy. I knew that he loved me. He showed me in ways that left no room for doubt. But as much as I wanted to take our relationship to
that
level, he had been careful to never go that far.

So I was surprised by his aggressiveness. And while I welcomed it, something about it bothered me.

But my hormones silenced any thoughts I had.

Yoss’s hand slid up my shirt, touching bare skin. I shivered. He trembled. His fingers were unsure as he pushed up my bra and cupped my breast for the first time.

I had made it to second base a time or two in the past, but this felt different. Because with Yoss
everything
was different.

“God, Imi,” he moaned into my mouth, biting down on my bottom lip. Not hard. Just enough.

I pulled his shirt up and over his head so that his bare skin was there for me to touch. I ran my hands over every inch. I tried not to cringe away from the feel of rough scars beneath my fingers.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he whispered.

I nodded, not sure I could speak. Soon my sweatshirt joined his on the floor and I was lying on the pile of blankets in my bra and jeans. I hadn’t showered in months. I had tried to wash up the best I could this morning at the flea market, but I briefly worried about whether I smelled. I felt self-conscious about the way my ribs poked through my skin because of how much weight I’d lost.

Yoss looked down at me, his eyes hooded. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, pulling the strap of my bra down my shoulder.

“I’m too skinny. And I’m all dirty and—”

Yoss cut me off with his mouth. A deep, penetrating kiss that erased every single thought. He broke away and turned his attention to the side of my neck. The tip of his tongue tracing along the curve of my collarbone. “You’re everything. Don’t you get that, Imi?” he said in between kisses.

His hand hesitated for a moment at the button of my jeans. Were we really going to do this? Now? After waiting so long?

“Yoss. Please,” I begged, cupping him through his pants, feeling how excited he was. I was a bundle of nerves. I wanted to be with him so bad, but I was scared at the same time. I was a virgin. I knew that Yoss wasn’t.

But that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to be with him. Desperately.

Yoss still hadn’t moved his hand. We were both breathing hard. Yoss looked down at me, his green eyes too serious. Heated but pained.

“Imi, I’m not sure—”

“Don’t you love me?” I challenged, feeling him retreat. Just like always.

Yoss kissed me. “Of course I do. You know I love you. More than anything.”

“Then why won’t you make love to me? We’ve been together for a while now. Don’t you want me?” My lips trembled and my voice broke. I was feeling the weight of his rejection bear down on me.

“It has nothing to do with not wanting to be with you, Imogen. I want to have sex. So much.” Yoss blew out a frustrated breath and lifted himself off me. I wrapped a blanket around my body feeling small and cold.

“Is it because of what you do for Manny? The things you do when you leave at night?” I dared to ask him, feeling brave enough to demand the answers I wanted.

Yoss grabbed his shirt and put it back on, turning his back to me. His shoulders were rigid and I knew I had pushed him too far.

“Don’t. Just don’t,” he said forcefully.

I inched closer to him and laid my cheek on his back. “Why can you do that with
them
but not with me? Your girlfriend?”

Yoss jerked back around to face me, grabbing a hold of my wrists, his eyes wild. “You have no fucking idea, Imogen! How can you even want me to touch you when I’ve—When I’ve let those people—” He couldn’t continue. His hands were shaking, his nails biting into the soft underside of my arms.

“I look at you and you’re so innocent. So fucking pure. And I’m disgusting. I’ve let people do things to me…” He swallowed thickly. “These scars are from them, Imi. I let them
hurt
me because they like it. And I need the money.” He squeezed tighter. “How can I touch you with hands that have done things that I wish I could forget?”

“Yoss, I don’t care about any of that—”

“You
should
care, Imi! God damn it, you
should!”
His voice ricocheted around us and I cringed. Realizing how tightly he was gripping my arms, Yoss let go. He ran his hands through his hair. “I’ve never been with anyone. Not like that. Not when it means something.”

I went up on my knees and cupped the side of his face. I kissed his chin. Then his cheek. Then the corner of his eye. “I want to love you like you deserve, Yoss. Please let me.”

Brilliant, bright green stared at me with wonder. “I must have done something right to find you, Imogen Conner.”

His mouth found mine again, his hands slipping underneath the blanket to touch my skin.