“This doesn’t fucking concern you, Yoss. Back the fuck off,” Hoodie Guy snarled, yanking on my arm again. My shoulder protested painfully, but I wouldn’t get to my feet.
“Actually, she’s a friend of mine, so yeah, it does concern me,” Skateboard Boy, who I had just learned was named Yoss, said. “She’s here to see me, isn’t that right?” He stared down at me, but I couldn’t see his eyes in the dim light.
I nodded desperately. “Yeah, I’m here to see Yoss.” My voice was panicky and high pitched.
“Why didn’t you say that earlier then?” Hoodie Guy demanded, still not relinquishing my arm. “Anyway, she’s gonna hang out with me now, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” His awful voice was all honey again.
“No. I’m here to see Yoss,” I argued, finally standing up and pulling on my arm with enough force that his nails broke skin.
Hoodie Guy laughed his horrible laugh as he turned to my rescuer. “Are you playin’ with * for a change?”
I frowned, not understanding what he was getting at. Yoss’s jaw tightened and his fists clenched at his side. “Come on, let’s go,” Yoss said to me, his eyes still on Hoodie.
“Okay,” I replied, scrambling to his side.
Yoss took my hand and gripped it tightly. It seemed a territorial move. Normally I would have balked at the gesture, but with Hoodie only minutes away from doing unspeakable things to me, I welcomed it.
“Don’t put your hands on her again, Tag. Otherwise I’ll have to tell Manny,” Yoss threatened, his voice low and dangerous.
I expected Hoodie—Tag—to sneer and come for me again, but he didn’t. Instead, he backed away.
“Whatever. No need for all that shit.” Tag turned and disappeared into the trees.
I all but sagged in relief. “Thank y—”
“You need to get the hell out of here,” Yoss said, dropping my hand like it had burned him.
I swallowed thickly and rubbed my arms. “I can’t,” I said, raising my voice slightly, trying to find my backbone again. The situation with Tag had scared me. And part of me wanted to listen to Yoss and go home.
But then I thought of what I’d be going home to so I stood my ground.
“Look, girl—”
“Imogen. My name is Imogen. Though my friends call me Imi,” I interrupted. Was I allowing this strangely beautiful boy to call me the nickname reserved for people I actually liked?
Absolutely.
He had saved my life. That gave you nickname rights in my book.
“Imogen, cool name.” He smiled and I smiled. It was sort of contagious. But then his face became serious again. “Imi, you don’t belong out here. That’s obvious. You’ve got a home don’t you?”
“Not one where I want to be,” I muttered.
Yoss ran his hand through his hair and sighed with frustration. “Well that’s the difference between you and every other kid out here, Imogen. You have a home you don’t want to go to. The rest of us just don’t have a home. So I don’t give a fuck how sad and pathetic you think your life is, do yourself a favor and run your pretty little tail all the way back to your white picket fence.” He sounded angry whereas before he had been fiercely protective.
I didn’t want to explain all the reasons that wasn’t an option for me. Sure, he had saved me from some potentially horrible shit, but I wouldn’t expose myself like that to anyone.
“I can’t,” I repeated obstinately.
Yoss looked incredibly sad. For some reason it made my heart hurt. “Then you’re an idiot. No one chooses to be out here. This isn’t a decision anyone would make if they had a choice.”
“I wouldn’t be here if I did,” I admitted quietly.
I hung my head, staring at the fractured ground beneath our feet. Broken concrete, pieces of rock, dead grass. Slivers of glass from shattered bottles gleamed in the newly risen moonlight.
Yoss didn’t say anything for a long time. And when he finally did, he said the only thing that would have made me feel any better in this crap situation I found myself in.
“Well come on then. I’ll help you find somewhere to sleep tonight. Tomorrow you can tell me why you don’t have any options.”
“Why are you being nice to me? I was a total bitch face to you earlier,” I asked, confused by why he’d stick his neck out for a stranger. A nobody.
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. I glanced up, startled at the physical contact. He was a good deal taller than me. The top of my head only came to his chin. I had to crane my neck to look into his face.
I wasn’t the touchy feely sort. I had grown used to the lack hugs and kisses. Mom rarely gave them and when she did it usually came with strings attached. A kiss before leaving me home alone while she went off chasing the new set of trousers. A hug as she let me know I’d be fending for myself for dinner once again.
But Yoss’s hand on my shoulder didn’t seem to come with conditions. It was comforting. That was it.
“Because I recognize that look on your face.”
I frowned, not sure what he was talking about.