In the Basement, In the Sky

Ten

The next morning you do, indeed, wake up behind a dumpster. Someone flipped the lid back over so all the snow that landed on you overnight and melted due to your body heat soaks you through. At least your feet and upper body are dry, since your boots and jacket are waterproof. But your legs are stiff and cold and you have to get dry somewhere. It's still dark but it sounds like there's plenty of traffic.

You check your phone for the time. A little past 6:00. Fuck, the library doesn't open for another three hours. And it's Friday, so they close early.

You try to hook into any local unprotected wi-fi, but no luck. You can't get close enough to the library and everything else is password protected. What you really need is somewhere with a bathroom so you can change into some of the clothes Kylie packed for you.

A cold, sharp pain shoots through your chest at the thought of his name, his face.

How could you have fucked up this badly and not realized it until it was too late?

Your legs are so stiff and your left knee is locked from the cold and wet, and you have to sit there, behind the dumpster, like a city rat looking for scraps, rubbing at your knees until they loosen up and you can stand. You stumble to the nearest street corner, pick a direction, and walk. Eventually you'll come across a fast food restaurant or a Dunkin Donuts or something. The Loop isn't big, but it's dense, and everything you could possibly want is here.

Except Kylie.

It doesn't take long before you see a big yellow M in the distance. You pick up your shuffling feet and walk faster, because behind that M is warmth and dryness and a place to change your pants. You have to be careful with your money, but coffee is cheap there and they have wi-fi.

The dining room is so warm. The woman behind the register looks at you with a tired, drawn expression that you know means she thinks you're just going to make a mess for her to clean up.

"I'll be back to order in a minute," you offer. You point back toward the bathrooms. "I just have to..."

She sighs and waves you off.

Normally you'd never take the handicapped stall, even if no others were available and you needed one, but the place is completely empty and it'll be so much easier to change in there. You strip off your wet jeans, stiff with iced over dirt, and dry your legs down with a spare shirt before you put on your only other pair of pants. Now that you have some privacy, you move your cash from the bag to your wallet and zip it up in your jacket pocket. It's all that lies between you and starvation right now, and if your bag gets stolen, you cannot afford to lose your money with it.

You finally take a few minutes to take more than a cursory glance at what Kylie packed for you. The drugs, which you have to get rid of ASAP, just in case you have a run-in with a cop. You'll have to see if Ashley's gotten back to you when you hook into the wi-fi. A few long sleeved shirts. The new pair of pants you're wearing. Your laptop. It's old, but maybe it's still good enough to sell. You have a smartphone anyway. A second pair of gloves! Oh, thank god. You pull them onto your shaking hands before moving on.

But that's pretty much it. No clean underwear. No clean socks! You'll have to buy some of each at the Target and that's going to dip into your money even more. All told you have maybe $130, with the money Funshine gave you.

Fuck.

One thing at a time, Jen. Go out into the dining room. Order coffee. Pay for coffee. Extra sugar, no cream. Even the hashbrowns have beef tallow, or, at least they used to, so you'll have to try to find food elsewhere. You haven't eaten meat in over ten years, and you don't want to spend the rest of your day puking. Eventually you'll have to give in, because you can't afford to be picky anymore. But not yet. You need a day to collect yourself first.