I was cold, but when you live on the streets, you're always cold, tired, hungry, and sore. To me, the cold was worse than the hunger. It crept through the pores on your flesh and it seeped into your bones until you were shaking so hard they seemed to rattle, threatening to shatter.

It made me sick when I shivered badly. I couldn't sleep with all the trembling, my body seeming to jerk on the icy, dusty floor. I'd been laying on it for four hours but it still wasn't warm. Heat was but a fleeting dream. It was a figment of the imagination for a sixteen year-old runaway girl who'd been living on the streets for six months.

I turned my head to look at Trip. He was large and comforting in this dark, smelly squat. I rolled over to him, holding the thin blanket tightly around me and tucked myself into his side, relishing in the small warmth he gave. He stirred lightly and I froze, afraid I'd woken him and feeling guilty for selfishly disrupting his rest. He stilled, then threw his arm over my shoulder to give me even more warmth, pulled me closer, and went back to sleep.

I drifted off into a fitful slumber.

Trip woke me and we put our thin blankets in our backpacks and headed out to get some breakfast. Between us, we had just enough for a bottle of water and two bagels. We sat on the curb to eat our breakfast, huddled together for warmth. I doubted I gave Trip's bulky frame any help, but he helped me a lot.

It took two weeks for all my money to be gone after I ran away. Trip found me sleeping on a bench and had been taking care of me ever since.

"We have two choices today, we can squeegee down on Main Street or we can work the subway." Trip said through a mouthful.

Just the thought of that cold water made my fingers ache and I decided against the squeegee. Besides, being a squeegee kid was dangerous. We had to walk in the middle of the street and we could get hit by cars.

"Let's work the subway." I said and he nodded, ruffling my hair when we stood up and started walking.

We made sure to hit different subways at different times, entrances, and places so the chance of us getting recognized was less likely. People got pretty mad when they thought you were cheating them out of money but hey, we needed it more than they did.

"Excuse me Ma'am," I said to a woman with shopping bags and three young children clinging to different parts of her body. She stopped and I made myself sound a bit panicked. "Could you please lend me a dollar? I was supposed to be home at ten and I lost my ticket for the train and I need to get home. My mother must be so worried. I need to call her and tell her I'm okay and get there as soon as possible. Please Ma'am."
"Oh you poor thing. You must be so scared out in the city alone. How old are you?" The woman asked as she rooted around in her purse while the kids stated chasing each other in circles and laughing as if it was the most entertaining thing in the world. I was sixteen, but I was really thin and petite so I looked younger than I am. That was good, I got more sympathy when I put on the lost-girl act.

"Fourteen."

She clicked her tongue against her teeth and shook her head, glancing at her kids. "You're too young to be in the city alone. If my kids were here and lost I'd be worried out of my mind. Here you go." She pressed four quarters in my hand.

"Thank you! Thank you so much." I gushed and she gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder and picked up her bag.

"Be careful sweetie." She said as she called to the wrestling kids, waved, and went down into the subway.

I felt a pang of homesickness. I missed my Mom; I wanted to feel her hugs. But I couldn't go back home. Not if her boyfriend was still around, which I knew he was because I'd called the house a few times and he'd picked up the last time. I hung up without saying anything.

By two o'clock I'd earned eleven dollars and twenty five cents while Trip earned seven dollars. I always got more because I was smaller and young-looking. Trip was large and muscular and pretty intimidating so lots of people were scared of him.

We were cutting through an alley when three guys stepped out in front of us and two more came up behind us. Trip pushed me so my back was to the wall and he was in front of me.

"Who said you could work these streets?" One of the guys demanded, coming forward a bit. They were like us, poor and hungry, but they were mean and older.

"We won't do it again man, just let us go on our way." Trip said with his voice hard and his body tense in front of mine.

People walked by the alley on the street and nobody noticed what was going on. Fear clogged my throat and I wanted to scream for help but couldn't force the sound past the lump. The men got closer on both sides and Trip shifted, ready.

"I know you won't do it again kid, because we're gonna teach you a lesson." The leader said. He smirked and swung his arm, aiming at Trip's face. Trip caught it and punched the guy in the nose.

Two men rushed forward to grab Trip and he struggled, swinging at them.

"Run!" He shouted to me. I tried but one of the guys blocked me and another yanked my hair.

"Leave her alone!" Trip roared, jerking and flailing as the two men held his arms.

One of the men smirked and punched me in the face. I dropped to my knees and was held upright by my ponytail. Another man came up behind Trip and hit him in the back of the head with a pipe. Trip stopped struggling and drooped, his eyes unfocused.

"Trip!" I shouted and was rewarded with a kick to the ribs. The man holding my hair dropped me and another stepped on the back of my shoulder which made a sickening popping sound and I screamed.

"Maddie. . . "I heard Trip moan and suddenly the leader was there, his nose oozing blood. He glared at Trip and pulled a gun from his waistband.

"No!" I screamed. I was hit in the head and sounds grew faint as the man pointed a gun at Trip's head. Blackness crept in the corners of m vision and my eyes locked on with Trip's fear-filled blue eyes. They were the last thing I saw before my vision faded. Then there was a bang and I fainted.

* * *

Trip was dead. It was a mantra that played over and over in my head. He died protecting me.

My ribs were cracked and my shoulder was dislocated, but Trip was dead. He'd never smile at me, crack a crude joke, or huddle with me for warmth. He'd never lay with me on the dirty floor of a squat speaking of the dream he had of being a big artist with a loft in the good part of the city. He'd be seventeen forever.

I stared unseeingly at the television in my hospital room. Now I was all alone.

The door opened and I didn't turn my head, assuming that it was another nurse or cop. I'd told them why I ran away when they first came because I was so scared and confused.

"Maddie . . . ?" I heard. My eyes widened and my body froze. I turned my head and saw . . . my Mom.

"Oh Maddie. They told me . . . they told me what Jimmy was doing to you but I need you to tell me honey. Okay? If you say it's true, we'll put him in jail. I promise. . ."

Her words were fuzzy, the shock of seeing my Mom's face clouding my mind. "Mom?" I whispered numbly and she started crying, nodding and coming over to me to smooth my lank hair from my face.

"Yes baby, I'm here." I felt tears slipping from my eyes as I stared at her face and the warm, gentle touch of her hand on my forehead made me flash back to all the times she'd done that when I was sick and she was checking my fever or when I was crying and my hair was sticking to my face.

"Maddie, honey. I need you to tell me, right now, if what you told those cops was true. Did Jimmy really hurt you that way?" My Mom asked carefully, her eyes on mine. "I'm sorry, I know we just saw each other and I heard about your friend, but it's important that you tell me now."
Before I ran away, I was too afraid to believe for a second that she'd take my side if I told her. We'd gotten in an argument and I felt like she hated me, which pushed me over the edge and led me to run. But I could see now that she would believe.

I wet my lips with my tongue and looked her straight in the eye. "Yes Mom. Jimmy did what they said."

She seemed to deflate somewhat at my words but she leaned forward and kissed my forehead. "I'm so sorry." She whispered against my skin. She stood up straight and headed toward the door. "I need to go speak with someone, but I'll be right back and we'll see about when we can go home." She said.

"Mom!" I cried, panicked. I was afraid she was going to leave me. "You'll come back right?"

She stopped and looked at me softly. "Of course sweetie. I promise." Then she left.

I sat there, staring at the closed door for a moment. I reached under my pillow for Trip's stuff- his cross on a chain and the sketch he did of me and him. I stared at his face in the sketch and gave it a watery smile.

I was going home.