Just as we're about to make our way down the subway stairs and part ways, I see a young, skittish girl leaning against a dirty wall with a Styrofoam cup next to her.
I feel bad for her. She can't be more than seventeen.
Stopping a few feet from her, I reach into my purse and take out a couple of bills. I hope she uses the money to get a hot meal or maybe find a place to sleep, but judging by her looks, her first stop might be to score some drugs.
As I close my bag, Daniel places a hand over mine. He turns toward me and I look up at him and meet hard eyes.
"Don't give her money," he says firmly.
My brows furrow and I'm instantly annoyed at being told what not to do. Exhaling through my nose, I try not to overreact. I understand why he's against giving cash to the homeless. It's drilled into our heads at a young age to never give money to the needy on the streets, but I can't help it. I've always done it when I could, and now I try to do even more.
"I always give money back."
"That's not giving money back, Aubrey, that's feeding an addiction. She's just going to run and get high. If you want to give it back, donate to a church."
My eyes lower. "I don't donate to churches. They're corrupt."
"Then give to a homeless shelter, not the riffraff on the streets. At least the money is being used honestly in shelters."
"What if I can be the one to change her mind?"
He shakes his head, his voice hard. "You won't be, and you know I'm right."
He could be right, but I still have to try.
Daniel exhales a strenuous breath and concedes. "I won't tell you what to do with your money, but I wish you wouldn't do this. She's young enough to get a job. She's just lazy."
Stepping around him, I bunch the money up in my hand and walk up to the girl with wild hair dressed in all black. No one knows what she's doing or thinking, but maybe she isn't going to get high. Maybe she won't run back to a pimp and give it to him. Maybe she's collecting it to get a bus ride out of New York, the city that will eat you alive if you don't know how to fight back.
Our eyes meet and she looks at me with anxious, brown orbs. I instantly feel worried for her because she doesn’t seem like the typical homeless who sleep on the street and are hooked on drugs, and because she's so young and impressionable. She has a chance. I've never lived on the streets, but Grammy came awfully close to being evicted a few times. I guess I have a soft heart and don't wish a hard life on anyone, especially young kids.
I get close enough and reach out, her hand already open. I place a few hundred dollars in her dirty palm, but she won't know that until I leave because she sure as shit isn't going to count her money in public.
"You're better than this," I say softly. She nods, and I sense she knows I’m right. At least I hope she does.
Stepping back, I take Daniel's hand and we walk down the stairs to catch the trains going our separate ways. It smells like urine underground and there's even more homeless in here who are just trying to stay warm and make it to the next day. I'm not naive. I know most are hooked on drugs and will run to get their next fix if given a few hundred dollars. I sigh inwardly. While I understand why he's against it, it rubs me the wrong way that he would try and stop me from giving money to a young girl. It wasn't like I was trying to give cash to an obvious meth head. I try to find the ones who look like they still have a fighting chance, or the ones who truly have no other option than to be on the streets. Besides, it’s nobody’s business but my own what I do with my money.
Thirty
"Shit. Shit. Shit," I say, barging into my apartment. I drop everything on the counter and run to my room in a panic.
"What's wrong?" Natalie says, walking into my room.
I turn around and look her up and down. "You're here?"
She grimaces. "I woke up feeling like shit, so I skipped classes today. I really wasn't in the mood to trek through the snow either. Why aren't you in class right now? This is so unlike you."
I start shuffling through my pint-size closet, shoving clothes back and forth.
"Christine texted me in the middle of class. She's offering fifteen thousand for a new client."
Natalie frowns. "That seems like an awful lot for just one guy."
"I thought so too, but I didn't ask. I never do. I figured he's got some weird ass kink. I've never gotten paid this much for one job before. How could I say no? Nat, I could take Grammy on a Caribbean cruise and get her out of the cold for a couple of weeks. Maybe that will help clear up her cough. I’ll tell her I won a trip or something."
She chuckles and my phone starts buzzing in my pocket. I grab it and read a text from Daniel.
"Shit."