Page 11
Author: Teresa Mummert
I took the small piece of paper from his fingers and held it against my chest.
He smiled, his eyes locked onto mine. “Oh, I almost forgot. ” He dug through his pocket again and pulled out a small, white square with the word Damaged written in big, bold letters across it.
I took it from his fingers and examined the concert ticket, furrowing my brow.
“We play in two nights at Tybee Island. It’s not far from here. I was hoping you could make it?”
I had been to Tybee once when I was younger. The beautiful island had a giant pier that jutted out into the ocean. As a girl, it had made me feel as if I were on the edge of the world. “I’ll try. ” I dug my teeth into my bottom lip. It would be almost impossible to make it to the island and back without someone’s noticing I was gone.
He smiled and slipped his hand over mine. His touch sent a jolt of electricity that shot straight to my chest. “This isn’t good-bye, Cass. This is only the beginning. ” His fingers slowly pulled back and he swallowed hard. “I have to go. ” His hand rubbed through his messy hair again.
There was so much more I wanted to say, but I couldn’t find the words. “Two days. ” I smiled, wondering why my gut had suddenly twisted with sadness.
He flashed me another perfect grin, his teeth bright white in the dark. He turned and walked out of the trailer park. I watched him disappear through the fence and waited until the faint roaring of his motorcycle faded away.
I slid my window closed and fell back on my bed, clutching the ticket and the phone number to my chest. I glanced over at my bear, wondering how much money it would take for a cab ride to Tybee. It would cut into my savings, but part of me didn’t care. I deserved another escape from my pathetic life. I took the ticket and slipped it into the hole in the back of my bear. I folded up Tucker’s number as small as I could and placed it in the locket in my closet before settling back into bed and drifting off to sleep.
The arms around my waist tightened as his steady breathing blew across my cheek from behind.
“What time is it?” I groaned, not wanting to open my eyes to the sunlight that streamed through the window behind me.
“Too early. ”
I chuckled and snuggled farther into his grip. “You have to go back out to the couch before my mom wakes up. ”
“Just a little longer. ” He ground his hips into me from behind.
I blinked several times, waiting for the alarm clock to come into focus. “We’re gonna be late for school. ”
“Then we better make it quick, sweetheart. ” Tucker pulled me onto my back and positioned his body over mine.
My alarm beeped angrily in my ear. I groaned and reached my arm out, trying desperately to make it stop. My fingers nudged it off the edge of the stand and it clattered to the floor but continued to beep.
“Fuck!” I pulled my pillow over my head, trying to block out the noise, but it didn’t work. I sighed and pushed myself from the bed, taking a moment to steady myself before picking up my alarm and switching it off. I ran my hand over my face. I had to get ready for work.
I trudged to the kitchen and dug through the cupboards for some coffee. I prepared the filter in the coffeepot and poured in a heaping scoop of coffee. As I waited for it to finish, I rummaged through the cupboards for something to eat. I decided on a can of corned-beef hash. I emptied the contents into a bowl and popped it into the microwave. I watched the timer count down as I thought about the previous night. Tucker’s face in my window, illuminated by the lone streetlight off at the edge of the park.
The microwave dinged and I jumped, glancing over at the couch. Jax stirred and I quickly grabbed the bowl. It was steaming hot and I cursed under my breath as I set it down on the stove below.
I grabbed a dish towel and slid it carefully under the bowl. Digging through the silverware drawer, I grabbed a spoon. I took a small bite, burning the roof of my mouth. “Ow! Jesus fuck!” I pulled open the fridge and grabbed the ketchup, squeezing it over my food. I picked up the bowl and headed into the living room, sitting down carefully on the squeaky recliner.
I stirred my food as I watched Jax sleep. My heart broke again as I thought about my dishonesty. He wasn’t always so . . . mean. When he and I first met, it was in the ninth grade. My family had never had money, and my clothes came from thrift stores and church donations. I was incredibly self-conscious, knowing that my worn sweaters stood out from my peers’ tight jeans and trendy tops that revealed just enough midriff to catch the boys’ eyes. I just focused on staying under the radar, but trying to keep to myself only made me a prime target for bullies. One day in class my art teacher handed out a list of supplies for a project. When she reached my desk, she patted my shoulder and let me know, in a loud whisper, that she would help me get the items on my list if I couldn’t afford them. The room suddenly buzzed with snickers, with one of my classmates muttering, “There’s like five bucks’ worth of stuff on this list. Seriously, Cass?” I just put my head down.
After the class ended and I slunk to my locker, a boy named Brandon came up behind me and knocked my books out of my hand as everyone stood around laughing. He told me not to worry, that Ms. Jenkins would pick them up for me since I was her favorite charity case. Jax came up behind him, shoving him hard across the hall. Brandon’s head cracked off the white subway tiles that lined the corridor. Everyone fell silent. Jax grabbed my books and handed them back to me, apologizing for Brandon as his eyes scanned the crowd, daring someone else to say something. It was the first time anyone had stood up for me. Jax and I had never spoken before that day. He was popular and handsome, even though his family was every bit as poor as mine. The girls seemed to fall all over themselves in his presence, and it was easy to see why. His eyes were a bright and vibrant green, his hair was cut short, and he looked amazing in anything he wore, even if it was a hand-me-down or thrift-store find. But the sexiest thing about him was his confidence, his I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude.
We were inseparable after that moment. He taught me how to fish, and I taught him how to get free snacks from the vending machine at the mall. He stood up to the many men my mother brought into the house, even once punching one in the nose for trying to cop a feel. I used to joke that he was my knight in shining armor. I truly believed he was sent by some higher power to protect me, just like in the Disney movies I used to watch as kid. I didn’t realize that I would eventually need to be protected from him.
When his mother developed a cocaine habit, he began staying over more and more. My mother didn’t care. She was thankful to have a man helping out around the house again. She took me to get put on the pill at sixteen. Having one child was too much responsibility for her, and she certainly couldn’t handle a grandchild. We were barely scraping by, but she was still optimistic that things would work out for us.
Eventually, Jackson stopped leaving altogether and became a permanent fixture in our home, a two-story row house on the outskirts of Savannah. My father had left us just before my seventh birthday, with only the clothes on his back. My mother left his belongings strewn about the place as if he had just stepped out for coffee. Jackson and I were joined at the hip. My mother made him sleep on the couch, but I would sneak out of my room at night just to lie by his side whenever I would have a nightmare. He would hold me, stroking my hair until I would drift back to sleep. Some nights, I would sneak out just to be in his arms. My heart would race just from his holding me, but like many things, it soon wasn’t enough. Our cuddle sessions became make-out sessions in which he taught me how to kiss like the women on television. Jax was much more experienced in life than I was, and that included sexually.
When I became sick with the flu over my seventeenth birthday, he took care of me, missing school for a week to make sure I was okay. He even took me to an urgent-care clinic to get medicine, reassuring me that he would pay for it. When I finally began to feel better, I d
ecided to let him know just how much he meant to me.
“You don’t have to do this. ” Jax smiled devilishly as his fingers traced the waistband of my jeans, leaving my skin on fire in their wake. He had been begging me to sleep with him since we began dating.
“I want to. ” My voice cracked.
He laughed, his eyes lowering so he could take in my body before they met my gaze. His tongue shot out and ran over his lower lip. “You are so fucking hot. ”
His words were like lighting a fuse. I pressed my lips hard against his, pushing my body into him. He groaned as his hands found my hips, gripping them tightly as he struggled not to move too quickly. My lips moved against his just the way he had taught me, causing him to groan into my mouth.
“Cass, I need to know if you’re serious. I won’t be able to stop after much longer. ”
I tried my best to look confident as I trailed my hand down his stomach and over the bulge of his jeans. That was all the answer he needed.
I don’t know if I ever truly knew what love was, but I knew that Jackson would be there for me. That was all I needed in that moment, and all I thought I would ever need until I met Tucker: the security of knowing Jackson would always be there for me.
But then bills began to pile up and Jackson worked two jobs to try to keep us afloat. He washed dishes at a chain restaurant in town and also fixed cars. He was a great handyman. Unfortunately, his little beat-up car had broken down for good, and he no longer had a way to get to work. My mother styled hair out of our living room, but few people we knew could afford to get their hair done. I worked bagging groceries at the local Piggly Wiggly, but people rarely tipped and it wasn’t enough to make a dent in our bills. We needed to make a change if we wanted to keep ourselves above water.
Jackson found us this trailer and got us a good deal on the rent. I started working at the diner and was able to make just enough to keep a roof over our heads. A leaky roof, but shelter nonetheless. We both dropped out of high school in order to get more hours on the job. College was never an option, and it no longer made sense to spend eight hours a day in classes. Shortly after we settled into our new home, Jax began to run with the locals. He took up selling drugs as a way to help support us. I hated the idea, but the money was better than from any other job we could find locally. Eventually, he gave in to temptation and began to use himself, burning up any profit he made.
My mother always hid her feelings in a bottle of alcohol or pills. She soon became Jax’s partner in crime. Life didn’t change overnight. I think that is why I didn’t protest against it sooner. Everyone was looking for an escape from reality. I couldn’t blame them. Getting high occasionally didn’t seem like such a bad thing. Unfortunately, getting high in the evening soon became using first thing in the morning. Jax grew distant, finding his companionship in a pipe instead of with me. Soon we barely spoke, and when we did, we would usually argue. It took three solid months until drug abuse became physical abuse. By then I was already in too deep.
I stood in the doorway, pleading with him not to buy more drugs. I knew he was getting angry and was not in his right mind, but I stood in his way.
“Please don’t do this anymore, Jax. ” I braced myself in the doorframe as he inched closer, sweat coating his skin.
“Baby, I just need to catch a buzz. ” He ran his hands over his face, clearly frustrated.
“You need to get clean. I can help you. ”
“I don’t need your fucking help, Cass. I’m not a fucking kid. ” His eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his chest.
“Of course not, babe. I just want things to be like they used to be. ” I reached out to touch his face and he knocked my hand away with such force that I lost my footing and fell out of the doorway and onto the ground. My elbows bled after colliding with the stones below.
Jax was over me in a flash, panic in his eyes. “Fuck, Cass. Are you okay? Why do you have to keep pushing my goddamn buttons all the time. Look what you did!” He pulled me against his chest, hugging me for the first time in weeks.
White Trash Beautiful Page 11
