The CEO's taboo girl

Chapter 2

Living on the streets is no joke. You have to constantly be alert, you have to fight for what's yours, and stay away from people who can put you into the system.

I came to the homeless shelter yesterday with Angie. We can stay three days here before we need to move on, but it's three days away from the biting temperatures of the Boston winter. When we arrived, a woman showed us to some cots. She gave us some wool blankets and told us we could take them with us when we left. She told us that we should stay away from some of the men, of course not giving us a reason why, but Angie found out why today when she ended up being railed by one of them. He had asked a few times before she agreed, and they found some hidden hallway or something to get their... needs out of the way. I had gotten them a condom, just in case, and they had a few hours of fun.

"I'm sore and tired, but it's almost dinner." Angie finally emerges from the shadows, her hair is a mess and her face is flushed. I giggle and fix her hair the best I can. "Don't complain. You got something, at least. I didn't know he had hours in him, but by the sounds you made before I left, I'd say you had a great time." I wiggle my brows at her, and she laugh softly. "Can't complain. But he wanted me as a personal plaything, and I don't want that, so he just made sure I would feel it for a few days before I came back up. And yes, we used the condom." I nod, and we head for dinner when the bell ring. I grab my bag and follow Angie to the dining hall. We get in line, get a tray with a bowl of soup, an apple and a glass of water. We find two free chairs by one of the tables, and we sit down and start eating in silence for a while.

"We have to leave tonight. Gina, the woman who showed us around, said that we couldn't stay for three days after all. Something about it being at full capacity." Angie looks at me apologetically, and I nod. It's not the first time. "We leave after dinner. Grab our blankets and our bags, and hopefully there is a tent big enough for two in one of the camps. We can bunk together tonight, keep warm and try to find some place tomorrow." Angie agrees and we finish our food.

Thirty minutes later, we stand on the street again, rubbing our hands together as the unforgiving Boston cold rapidly make us wish we were inside the warm shelter. We start moving towards one of the homeless camps we've been lucky with, and we're relieved when they had a tent for two we could stay in tonight.

Exhaustion came as Angie and I slipped inside the sleeping bag with just our underwear and socks, and it didn't take long before we fell asleep.

Angie is the only one from the first group of kids who helped me in the first place, I still have contact with. It's been her and me since then. She's my best friend, and I love her like a sister.

I wake up the next morning to a snoring Angie. She has a cold, and I sigh. I nudge her awake, knowing this will be a hard winter. She can't stay outside, because she can get pneumonia, and it's a better chance for her to get a room at a shelter if she's alone. She groans and coughs when she wakes up, and she just looks at me, knowing exactly what that means: We're separating for the first time, and that means one 16-year-old on the streets, and a 17-year-old in the shelters, alone. I hug her before we get out of the sleeping bag and get dressed. I wrap my blanket around me, and Angie does the same, and we head for the emergency room, knowing one hospital that takes care of street kids, free of charge, and doesn't ask questions.

We get there, and while Angie is looked after, I slip back outside, unnoticed, and return to the homeless camp in search for some cans that hasn't been claimed.