Chapter 2: Sorry to 'bump' into you

Monica started awake as the bus hit a bump and lurched slightly. She peered out the window, quickly recognizing downtown New York. It was beginning to get dark. She knew she had to get off soon, or she would be finding a place to sleep in the dark. She saw a park coming up to her left and decided it seemed like a good option. She reached up and pulled the cord.

Backpack strapped tightly on her back and duffle bag held in clenched fingers, Monica stepped off the bus as bravely as she could. She was suddenly aware that today was the first day of the rest of her life: and it was terrifying. She headed into the park, looking for a good place, but ended up wandering aimlessly for a period of time. She lost herself in her thoughts and became almost mesmerized by her feet, landing one after the other, time after time. She was so lost in thought that she was surprised when she walked into someone and fell back on the ground.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Monica said looking up. "It's my fault, I wasn't watching where I was going." She studied the figure in front of her. It was a girl, around her age, with dirty blonde hair and a dirt smudge on her cheek.

"Oh, no," the girl said, smiling as she reached out a hand to help Monica up. "It was my fault. I should have paid more attention, I'm always walking into things. I'm Phoebe by the way."

"Monica."

Phoebe seemed to study Monica for a few seconds and tilted her head slightly, as if studying her. "Are you okay?" She asked. "You seem kinda upset, and your aura is all over the place. Is something wrong?"

Monica started shaking her head, but stopped. Phoebe seemed like someone she could talk to. She sighed. "I'm just going through a rough time."

"How come?" Phoebe prodded. She seemed to just speak what came to her mind, and Monica liked that.

She hesitated before answering. "My mom kicked me out and I don't really know what to do, or where to go."

Phoebe smiled sadly. "Stuck on the streets, huh? Don't worry, it's not as bad as it seems. I've been on the streets since I was twelve."

Monica gasped. "Twelve!"

Phoebe shrugged. "My mom killed herself and my step dad was back in jail. My real dad took off when I was really young. I had nowhere to go."

"That's terrible," Monica said.

Phoebe shrugged "Eh, you get used to it."

"Well, I hope so," Monica replied.

"You can stay with me," Phoebe offered brightly. "It's not much, but I've got this really great alley, and a bunch of old boxes. I share the area with a couple others; they're all really nice, we watch each other's stuff so it doesn't get stolen. There's even some rain cover."

"I'd really like that, thanks." Monica said, feeling the tears come again.

Phoebe surprised her by leaning in and giving her a hug. "Don't worry. It seems really bad now, but I promise you, it gets better."

Monica allowed Phoebe to lead her back to the alley and was introduced to Phoebe's 'friends.' They all seemed really nice, just like Phoebe said. Monica was surprised. She had never really thought about these people, and for that she felt bad. Monica was exhausted and starving when she finally sat down on Phoebe's 'bed.' It consisted of a stack of boxes and some old, dirty blankets. Monica pulled out the loaf of bread she had brought and two bottles of water. She gave Phoebe a bottle and shared the bread with her new friend as well. Phoebe was very grateful, as she hadn't eaten since the previous morning.

"The trick is," Phoebe was saying, "to save your empty water bottles, because you can fill them up at water fountains in malls and stuff."

Monica nodded, and filed the fact away in her head. "That makes sense." She knew she had a lot to learn and it was going to be hard, but she was going to make it, with quite a lot of thanks to her new friend Phoebe.

It wasn't long before it was completely dark outside and Monica noticed Phoebe had fallen asleep beside her. It was a long time before Monica fell asleep. She lay awake for hours, hearing every sound, every car on the street nearby, every person, everything. She felt too depressed to even cry. How had her life come to this? Monica finally drifted of into an uneasy sleep in the early hours of the morning.

Monica awoke with a start and sat up quickly, wondering what had woken her up. She saw flashing lights zoom by at the end of the alley, and realized a fire truck had sped by, and the noise had woken her up. Monica looked around, noticing Phoebe was gone and she was alone. She shook her head, exhausted as she had barely gotten any sleep the night before. She had woken up more times than she could count. The first thing she did was pull an apple out of her bag. She was hungry.

It wasn't long before she spotted Phoebe heading back down the alley towards her, a guitar case in hand.

"Morning," Phoebe said happily. "How did you sleep?"

"Not great," Monica said truthfully.

"Don't worry, it gets better. The first couple nights are hard, but you get used to the noise and what not."

"I hope so," Monica said. "So, where did you go this morning?"

"Oh," Phoebe said brightly. "I go down to the subway station most mornings to play," she motioned to her guitar case, "and look I made seven dollars this morning."

"Is that a lot for one morning?" Monica asked.

Phoebe nodded. "For two hours it's pretty good. Occasionally I get lucky and get more than ten. One time I got twenty-two dollars."

Monica smiled at Phoebe's enthusiasm.

"Do you want to come with me this afternoon? There's a game, meaning more people. I can usually make enough for a couple days."

Monica hesitated before nodding. "Sure," she said. She knew she would have to get used to this, it would probably her only way of making money for a while, as she knew very few people would hire you if you lived on the streets.

The singing went better than she thought it would. At first she had been nervous and unsure, but she had caught on to Phoebe's enthusiasm. She had ended up having a great time. Phoebe sang all sorts of original songs that she wrote herself and often just went off the cuff and made them up as she went along.

Before she knew it the game had ended and she and Phoebe were walking back to what was now her home.

"So, you've been on the streets for seven years?" Monica asked.

Phoebe nodded. "Yeah, time flies."

"Do you ever wish you could afford an apartment, or something?"

"Oh, all the time, but it's just too much. I mean even if I sing all day, I barely have anything left after I pay for food. I have a little saved up, but it's not much, only a couple hundred or so, and that's after seven years."

"Where do you keep the money?"

"Uh, I have a safety deposit box at the bank. I just leave any extra money there. I know it's safe."

"That's a good idea, I should get one of those," Monica said. " I have some stuff that I really don't wanna lose."

"Like what?"

"Oh, just some pictures and little keepsakes and stuff. It was everything I could fit in my bags when I left. My mom didn't give me much time."

Phoebe smiled sadly at her. "I'm sorry that had to happen to you."

Monica shrugged. "Maybe it's for the best, I mean, now she can't put me down anymore. It's very freeing."

"There's always a silver lining," was Phoebe's reply.

Monica smiled. Phoebe was obviously a good person. She was lucky to have met her.

"You know what we should do?" Monica asked.

"What?"

"We should find a way to get jobs and save up and share an apartment."

Phoebe smiled. "I'd love to, but there's no way to get a job. I've tried so many times, but no one will hire you, well, unless you want to be a hooker."

"No," Monica said, shaking her head and shuddering at the thought. "I really don't want that, but there's got to be a way of getting a job. If we keep at it, eventually someone will hire us."

Phoebe nodded. "You know what? You're right. Let's go get a job!"

A month later Monica found herself walking aimlessly down the sidewalk. Her hopes were dashed as she had been turned down at one interview after another for the past month. Phoebe was right, no one would hire them. Monica sighed and looked down at her feet as she continued down the sidewalk.

She was so distracted by watching her feet that she didn't notice the young man walking towards her, his head also down, in an attempt to balance the pile of boxes in his arm. They collided, both falling to the floor, along with the many boxes.

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," Monica said quickly. This was becoming a very bad habit.

"Oh, no it's my fault," he assured her. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Yeah, well, me neither." Monica smiled and looked up at the man, who had gotten up and was offering her a hand. She was taken aback for a few seconds, like she momentarily lost control of his body. He was very attractive, very cute. He had deep blue eyes and slightly mussed up brown hair. There was something about him that just took her breath away. Monica jolted out of her trance and took his hand, getting up. He smiled warmly at her, not letting go of her hand. They stared at each other for a few seconds until Monica realized what was happening and pulled her hand back quickly. She covered by crouching down and helping him to pick up the spewed boxes.

"You don't have to help me," the man said.

"I don't mind, what's in the boxes, anyway?"

"Oh, not much, just some presents. Two of my friends have birthdays coming up, and I thought I'd get ahead of the game."

"That's always good," Monica said. "I like to get things done way ahead of time, that way I know there done."

There was an awkward pause, as he seemed to be struggling with what he wanted to say. Monica smiled inwardly, knowing he wanted to ask her out. She started as she crashed back down to reality. She couldn't date anyone; they would find out about her 'living conditions' and would take off. She knew she couldn't take that. It only took Monica a second to react. She glanced down at her watch, mumbled something about being late and took off down the street, leaving the man alone.

Chandler was shocked by the quick get away of the girl. It was like he was turned down before he even got to ask the question. It was weird, but he had felt a connection to her. He thought about going after her, but she had already disappeared into the crowd. Chandler shook his head, picked up the pile of boxes and continued down the street, trying to convince himself that he hadn't really felt anything, it was all in his head.