Once you peered closer you realized it was anything but.
This was a grasping, desperate existence.
“No. I haven’t been hurt. But I’m always scared I will be. The Pit—”
“The Pit?” Amanda interrupted, confused.
“It’s what everyone calls the warehouse on Summit,” I told her.
“Cheery name. I didn’t realize that’s what it was called,” Amanda muttered, pulling her skirt down self-consciously.
“You’ve never been inside, Mandy. If you had, you’d understand the name.” I picked at a piece of thread on my shirt. It was dirty and smelled like unwashed skin. I knew what I looked like without needing a mirror. I knew that there were dark circles under my eyes and my skin, which had always been clear, was riddled with dirt and pimples from not washing enough. My hair, which had always been a source of pride, was greasy and held back in a sloppy bun.
At one time I would never have been caught dead looking the way that I did. But now, it wasn’t even a concern.
“When was the last time you ate?” Amanda asked.
“I had stuff this morning. There’s this guy—”
“A guy? Oh is he cute?” Amanda’s face brightened in relief as she maneuvered the conversation into normal girl talk. She giggled and I rolled my eyes. Only my friend could focus on the totally shallow while discussing my being homeless.
“Yes, he’s cute, but that’s not the point,” I replied primly.
“Of course it’s the point. You may be homeless, but you still have your girlie parts,” Amanda pointed out.
“Anyway, his name is Yoss, and he’s sort of been helping me out. He watches out for me. Makes sure I eat. He got me some deodorant and toothpaste,” I explained.
“Nothing saysI’m hot for youlike toiletries. I get it,” Amanda teased. I felt myself getting frustrated, even though I knew it wasn’t fair. Amanda was only trying to be nice, but I couldn’t help but be annoyed by her ignorance.
“Youdon’tget it. He makes sure that no one messes with me. That first night someone would have hurt me. But he made sure nothing happened. He’s…well, he’s special.”
“Oh my god, Imogen. You can’t stay out here,” Amanda said, her hands wringing together. The momentary levity was long gone.
“I have nowhere else to go,” I reminded her, wishing it weren’t true.
“You could go home—”
“She hasn’t come looking for me, Mandy,” I said quietly. “I’ve been gone a month. Do you think she even cares that I’m gone?” It was a rhetorical question. I didn’t expect a response.
From the look on Amanda’s face, she knew the answer as well as I did.
“I saw her last week,” Amanda mentioned, watching the kids ride their skateboards up and down the ramp.
“You saw my mom?” I asked, hating how hopeful I sounded.
Amanda nodded, turning her attention back to me. “She was at the mall with whatshisface.”
“Adam,” I filled in.
“Yeah, the guy who iswaytoo young andwaytoo hot for her,” Amanda complained.
“What were they doing?” My voice sounded small.
Amanda hesitated.
“It’s okay. You can tell me,” I coaxed. I was pretty sure that whatever Amanda had to say wouldn’t hurt me anymore than I was already hurting.
I was wrong.
