“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.
My stomach growled and I took a big bite. It was a stale but tasty. I finished both before Yoss had eaten one.
“Damn, you were hungry. Feeling better?” he asked, smirking.
“Yeah. I guess,” I said, taking another roll from the bag.
Yoss pulled another plastic bag from the dumpster. This one was full of what looked to be chocolate chip cookies. “We’ll take these back for everyone.”
“Wait. Can’t we keep them for us?” I asked, reaching for the bag of cookies. I knew that I sounded selfish, but I was hungry. And worried that this was the last food I’d have for a while.
Yoss frowned, but let me take a few cookies. “Imi, one of the first things you’ll learn out here is that we’ve got to look out for each other. We stick together because it’s easier to survive if someone else has your back.”
I felt like an asshole. It wasn’t the first time since I had met Yossarian that I felt that way.
“I’m sorry—”
“Don’t apologize. It’s cool. You’ll figure it out. Or you won’t. I kind of hope you don’t.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why would you say that?”
Yoss shrugged, looking at me through thick, black lashes. “Because that means you’ll go back home. A girl like you is too good for a life like this,” he said softly and I couldn’t breathe around the lump in my throat.
“Come on, let’s head over to the bridge. Everyone meets up there in the morning,” he said, taking a bite of cookie.
“Okay.” I grabbed one of the plastic bags he was holding and put the cookies back. Yoss watched me, but didn’t say anything. “More to share. I’m full anyway,” I explained sheepishly.
We walked the five blocks to the Seventh Street Bridge, the same place I had met Yoss the evening before. Unlike The Pit, underneath the bridge was less intimidating in the light of day. The fires were all dead and it was mostly deserted except for a small group of teenagers hanging out on by a pile of crumbled brick and asphalt.
“Hey guys, breakfast is served,” Yoss called out, tossing the bag of cookies to a small girl with a shaved head and tattoos up and down her thin arms.
“It’s about time. I was just getting ready to head off for my day at the office writing reports and shit,” a kid with short blond hair and a crooked nose laughed.
“More like getting ready to find some old lady’s wallet to pinch,” an older boy with long brown hair muttered, grabbing a roll and taking a bite.
All of the kids looked to be about my age or a little older. And all of them were way too skinny. I stood just behind Yoss, not sure what to say. I felt incredibly out of place.
A girl with uneven red hair and a lip ring glanced my way. “Who’s the fresh meat?” she asked, nodding her head in my direction.
Yoss pulled me from behind his back. He glanced at his friends then at me. “Guys, this is Imogen. Imogen, these are the guys,” he said by way of introduction. He pointed at the girl with the buzzed head. “That’s Di. The lovely vixen to my left is Karla.” Yoss grinned at the red-haired girl and she blushed. She gave him the sort of dewy-eyed look that I recognized. She liked him. A lot. Not that I blamed her.
“The ugly fucker over there with the shitty sense of humor is Bug.” Yoss pointed to the blond boy who joked about going to the office. He was flicking a silver lighter over and over again.
“Bug?” I asked.
“Because we all want to crush him under our shoe. He’s really annoying,” Di snickered, grabbing another cookie.
“Whatever. You assholes just don’t get how awesome I am,” Bug quipped, rolling his eyes.
“I’m Shane. Nice to meet you,” the longhaired boy said, holding out his hand for me to shake, which surprised me.
Yoss snorted. “Is this a freaking job interview? You’re such a tool, man.”
“There’s a lot to be said for good manners. Isn’t that right, Imogen?” Shane gave me a smile.
“Sure,” I agreed, not knowing what else to say.