I Like Dirt (Jack. Book 2)

by Laine Watson

  “Why, so you can go to jail? That’s the last place you need to be,” I said, sitting up.

  “Yeah, but ain’t nobody fuckin’ with my susta,” he replied.

  “It’s okay. I should have just worn something different, a turtle neck or something.” I shrugged.

  “Fuck that, man! Katie, you can wear whatever the fuck you want to,” my brother told me.

  “I wish all boys were like you. You’re such a good brother.” I smiled and fell into him. He smiled, too. He knew I was done for the night.

  “Hey, I’m staying at Jiggs’s house tonight, but I’mma stay till everybody leave just in case mu’fuckers get bold,” he said into my hair.

  “Awe brothee, thanks,” I said climbing further into my bed and laying down heavily. He did— he didn’t go back out there. He stayed and sat at my computer, playing random computer games and checking, every once in a while, to see if the party was over. I was sleeping soundly, safely, watched over by my big little brother.

  I woke up in the middle of the night. Trey wasn’t there anymore, no one was there. It was only me, and I had been startled awake while dreaming about Jack.

  I hadn’t had enough to drink because the feeling was still in me. I tried to go back to sleep. I couldn’t. The feeling that Jack’s hands were on me, his distinct smell was on my skin. I bit down on my teeth, and closed my eyes really tightly.

  “No…” I whimpered. “No…” I squirmed around, trying to get the feeling away. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn’t. Lately, I couldn’t. Jack’s voice was in my ear. I felt him next to me. I didn’t want to because I knew he wasn’t there.

  “No…” I moaned, trying not to get up and go look in that drawer. I didn’t want to get what I needed to get out of there, so I could feel Jack. I breathed hard. Harder. I was sweating, so I took off my clothes. I felt my body. My boobs, my belly, my arms. I wanted Jack. I hated this part. Of all the longing and missing Jack, this was the only way for me to get past it.

  I hit the bed with my fists. There was no use. I had to have an orgasm that night. Like so many other nights, I wanted just to get the wanting out. I got up and looked in my underwear drawer. I pulled out the blue, almost-transparent screwdriver. I sat down on the bed, almost ready to cry. I didn’t want to always have to stick a screwdriver up my pussy so that I could feel right again. But it was something that had become normal.

  Even after I had sex with other guys, I still had to come home and fuck myself and pretend it was Jack.

  I sighed. I held myself, trying to make the feeling go away. I gulped. I cried with no tears; just an overwhelming feeling of desperation. I lay back down. I tried not to, but it was no use. I had to. I stuck it right in there and closed my eyes. In and out, in and out. I tried not to focus on my shame, and only focus on having an orgasm, so I could stop. Heavy breaths, heavier breaths.

  “Jack,” I whispered. It was started.

  “Jack…” I whined. I started to push it in faster.

  “Jack…” I whisper-screamed through my teeth.

  “Hu-hu-hu…J-a-c-k…” I sighed and pulled the screwdriver out and laid it on the bed beside me. I curled up into a ball and cried. I pulled the covers over me and cried more.

  “Jack…” I cried out until I fell back asleep.

  Chapter Four: I Miss You

  I woke up the next morning to an alarm. It was eight o’clock AM, and I felt rested. I got up, rubbed my eyes, and made my way upstairs in the same little cocktail dress that I had worn to the party. Everyone was still sleeping, except Becs. She was up watching baby cartoons. She was weird.

  “Hey.” I smiled as I was coming up the stairs.

  “Morning.” She smiled at me. There was a guy laying across her lap, some other dudes on the floor, and some chick laying on top of Alex on the other sofa.

  “So, what time did I disappear?” I asked.

  “I think ten,” Becs replied.

  “Dang, really?” I raised my eyebrows.

  “Yeah, one minute, we were dancing, and the next, I didn’t see you anymore till this morning,” Becs said.

  “Wow, that’s super pathetic. I was the one who wanted to throw a party,” I said, sitting down next to her and curling up next to one dude’s face. I laid my head on her shoulder. “I’m lame, huh?”

  “No, you’re not. You’re just a lovesick puppy, who’s never gonna get a good fuck.” She grinned at me.

  “What?” I laughed.

  “Yeah, you need to let Jack go. I know, for one, that Bryan has an amazing cock.” Becs told me.

  “Who is Bryan?” I asked.

  “Oh, no one. Just the guy who was feeling you up last night, and then you just fluttered away like a fucking fairy,” she said with a laugh. “This ain’t the Woodland Forest. What’s wrong with you? Yo ass gone get raped. You out here, playing with grown men’s emotions.”

  I sighed again. Maybe I was a tease. I did want to feel sexy, but I certainly didn’t want to have sex with anyone. After Chad, there would probably be no one else ever. My woman parts were going to shrivel up and reenter my body, and I’d have to pee out of a tube. Or I could continue secretly fucking myself with a Philips head screwdriver, pretending it was Jack.

  “Well, I…I have to go and braid hair anyway, so,” I said, getting up.

  “Well, whatever. I’m just saying, be careful,” she said seriously.

  “Maybe I’ll just stop talking to guys all together,” I murmured.

  “That sounds like a stupid idea. But do what you want.” Becs smiled. I gave her a sassy look as I left the room.

  I almost hated guys. I took a nice hot shower and tossed my crinkly curls into a messy bun like white girls do. I put on a pretty little skirt, and a nice flowy shirt. If I was going to be standing up for the next eight hours, I wanted to be comfortable. With that, I was off to Jiggs’s house.

  By the time I got into the car, my brother had already called me like three times to see if I was still coming. Somehow, he felt like me not showing up, or even being late, reflected poorly upon him. I had to ask him what her name was. Cathy Ryan. I thought that was a pretty name. So, for his sake, if not my own, I had to be on time.

  The neighborhood was quiet in the morning. No deadbeats sitting in the driveway like it was a trailer park or the hood. At least, that’s what I thought when I parked my car on the other side of the street in front of someone else’s house and walked into Jiggs’s house.

  It was a nice two-story home with three bedrooms upstairs. It had a nice wood and white staircase, and to the left of the front door, there was a den or living room, and to the right, there was a dining room that looked like it wasn’t used. The glass table sat eight tiffany-blue leathery chairs, and the trunk of the table was a beautiful marble sculpture that looked like it was from ancient Rome. Down the hall to the left, there was another den, a family room area, where Jiggs’s mother sat on a futon. To the right, was the kitchen. From the door of the den, I could see that it was huge with black and white shiny tile.

  “Hi, Mrs. Ryan?” I smiled.

  “Oh, chile, call me Cathy,” Jiggs’s mother insisted with a wave of her hand.

  “Oh. Okay, I’m Katie, Trey’s sister…you want micros? Bianca’s gonna be here in a few minutes, she just lives down the street,” I told her.

  “Bianca?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Uhm, yeah. Trey’s kids’ mom,” I clarified.

  “You mean Trey’s baby mama?” she said.

  “Yeah.” I smiled shyly.

  “Well, okay. I be going to the Africans, but they charge ya arm, ya leg, ya back hair, ya ass cheek. You know what I’m saying?” she said.

  “Yes, I do. That’s why I learned to braid myself,” I explained.

  “That’s a good skill to have, but I can’t braid worth shit.” She laughed.

  “Well…”

  “Okay. So what’chu want me to do?” she asked.

  “Well, I can go ahead and get started. I mean, with separating
the hair, and getting you prepped. You got a chair?”

  “Yeah, I do,” she said and left the room. Several seconds later, she walked back into the room with one of those leathery, tiffany-blue dining chairs and placed it in the middle of the floor. She sat down in it, and I began to separate the hair and pull out the combs and utensils needed to create the right environment and the rhythm so this would go smoothly.

  “So, tell me what you do?” she asked me, and I could feel her relaxing as she became used to me working with her hair.

  “Oh, I go to school, and I work at the bookstore on campus,” I replied.

  “You do? G-g-i-i-r-r-l, I been thinking ‘bout going back to school,” she said. “Yeah, do that when you young. You know, I’m in my forties—I ain’t got time to be carrying nobody’s books around and worrying about other folks’ deadlines.” I smiled; she sounded like a granny.

  Bianca came over not long after that, and we got to braiding. It was noon when Trey came down the stairs. By then, we were half-done braiding.

  “Dang, y’all almost done?” he said.

  “We was here at nine, where was you?” Bianca asked with an attitude.

  “Man, don’t start with me. Where my kids?” Trey responded.

  “With they granny. You gone go get’em later?” Bianca asked.

  “Yeah, I might.” Trey shrugged.

  “Okay.”

  “Where you going?” I asked my brother.

  “I’m ‘bout to go over Money crib. Them niggas over there barbequing,” Trey said.

  “Tell them to bring me some,” Bianca said “Nah, you better bring me some.”

  “A’ight man,” Trey said, kissing Bianca on the cheek.

  “Nigga, brush yo teeth, damn!” She smiled.

  “A-a-h, you got jokes,” he said, leaving the room. He was going to Jack’s house, but the thing you have to understand about my brother is that he’s like a woman; it takes him like, three hours to get ready. He had to get all his stuff ready, and he can’t do it the night before, it all has to be done simultaneously. He has to set his clothes out, set out all the things he’ll be using for his process, iron each piece of clothing separately, and then take the longest shower known to man, using all the hot water from the whole block. Then he has to sing to himself in the mirror and make “come get me” stares at himself. He has to smooth his hands over his dimples and his make-believe beard, and he had to put on each article of clothing, one at a time, spraying a small dash of women’s perfume on it and men’s cologne on the next. He keeps going until he is fully dressed. Then he has to make sure his pants are sagging, just low enough to be threatening, but not too low that he can’t pull them up and run from the police. Finally, he’s ready to face the world. Three hours later, I’m not kidding. Literally, three hours, give or take about fifteen minutes, he was ready.

  We heard him as he walked into the kitchen and popped a hot pocket in the microwave. Bianca went in to talk to him.

  Next door, something was about to transpire. It seemed like I should have caught on the first time Trey said “Money,” but I was none the wiser.

  The grilling was done at this point, and now Ant, Jew, and “Money” were all sitting in the garage. They were all smoking a blunt that “Money” had laced with some out of town stuff. From the garage, large speakers played punk music, which filled the whole garage.

  “Ay man, you shoulda came to that party last night,” Jew said.

  “Nah, I had things to do,” Jack replied.

  “Man, Money, you weak as fuck. All you do is smoke,” Jew complained.

  “Nah, that nigga shoot up, too. He be cooking that shit in the kitchen. Money do everything.” Ant laughed.

  “Fuck ya’ll,” Jack said.

  “What the fuck you listening to, Blink? And this song, who the fuck you miss? Can you play something else? They got other shit, play that uh…that First Date, nah…nah, play…Feelin’ This,” Ant suggested.

  Jack sniffed and took a hit from the blunt and passed it to Ant.

  “Yo life dry as fuck man,” Jew said.

  “So, what you do? You out here?” Jack asked, getting aggravated.

  “Well, I fucked Trey susta last night,” Jew said proudly. Jack stopped looking at the ground, and it was like the music faded away. He finally looked up at Jew’s stupid grin.

  “You had sex with Trey sister?” he asked, cracking his neck.

  “Nah I said I f—” He didn’t finish because he had been violently pushed up against the garage wall. There was a large thud as his body collided with the drywall.

  “Man, what the fuck?” Jew yelled with a little bit of fear. The look in Jack’s eyes was more than just upset, it was downright homicidal. Jack reached toward the iron shelf next to him and grabbed one of the hand guns that sat there.

  “Now say it again,” Jack threatened with a bit of psycho in his tone as he pointed the gun directly in Jew’s face.

  “What the fuck ya’ll doing?” Trey said, opening the garage door.

  “This mu’fucka losing his mind,” Jew yelled nervously. Jack looked at Trey and took his hand off of Jew and the trigger. Jack sniffed and walked away from Jew and sat back down in the lawn chair. Jew was still confused as he sat back down.

  “You wanna tell me what that was about?” Jew asked, looking at Jack.

  “Nothing,” Jack mumbled angrily, realizing he had no rational reason to react that way to what Jew had told him.

  “What, you fucking Katie, too?” Jew asked.

  “What?” Trey said, getting upset. Jack leaned back in his chair arrogantly.

  “Yeah.” He sniffed. “Jew said he fucked your sister last night.”

  “I’m next,” Ant added, trying to cut the tension in the room, even though he hadn’t been that bothered by Jack pulling a gun out on Jew. It wasn’t’ the first time that had happened. Trey looked at Jew and walked over to him. Jew didn’t say anything, just looked frightened when Trey came over to stand right over him. He gulped.

  I, of course, had no idea any of that nasty little rumor had been spread. Bianca and I were still braiding.

  “If you girls wanna take a break, my back is killing me,” Jiggs’s mother said. “I gotta get up and stretch or something, but there’s food in the kitchen. You can help yourself.”

  “I’m cool. Imma just sit down. My feet is killin’ me,” Bianca said, sitting down on the futon.

  “Okay, thanks,” I said, walking into the kitchen. I opened the freezer, pulled out a hot pocket, and popped it in the microwave. I stood there and watched it go around and around. Other than the constant humming of the microwave, it was quiet. Then someone came in the garage door from the outside.

  “Hey Katie,” Jiggs called out. I could tell from his voice that he was smiling. I didn’t move my gaze from my hot pocket, rotating in the microwave.

  “Hey Jiggs,” I replied with no hidden agenda. But then this fool walked up behind me and tried to put his junk on my back.

  “Somebody told me you like young mu’fuckas,” he tried to say in a sexy voice. But that all went to hell when I turned around, trying not to laugh too hard.

  “Huh.” I tried to stifle my laughter, but I couldn’t. I just started laughing hysterically. He was standing there like, “Oh,” his eyes wide, and his mouth hanging open.

  “Damn, it ain’t that funny,” he whined.

  “Boy, shut up. How old are you?” I asked.

  “I’m fourteen, and I’m hella tall,” he stated, his pride wounded.

  “So?” I laughed again.

  “You act like you way older than me. You can’t even give a nigga a chance.” He raised his chin defiantly.

  “Hell nah, not when you lookin like a lil boy coming up here, tryna talk to me like Barry White…are you serious?” I giggled.

  “Yeah man, you fine! I’m tryna see what’s up,” he said, trying to recover.

  “Nothing is up, Jiggs!” I said as the microwave finished. I got my food out and closed the mic
rowave and walked away. But before I headed back to the room where we were braiding his mother’s hair, I had to turn around one last time.

  “…you talk to young mu’fuckas….” I teased, and started laughing again because it was just so unbelievable. He thought he was making moves on me. Meanwhile, he was standing there with his foot in his mouth. I suppose I didn’t make it any better, laughing at him. I ate my hot pocket, and Bianca and I started back on his mother’s hair.

  Over at the other house, Trey was going to get to the bottom of the rumor.

  “…what? You fucked my sister last night while she was drunk?” Trey asked. Jack was frustrated and angry. He got up out of the lawn chair and forcefully tossed it into the freezer that sat in the garage. He went into the house through the door that lead from the garage inside.

  The fuck is wrong with him? Trey asked himself. I know because he told me that’s what he was thinking.

  “Nah, man. It wasn’t like that,” Jew said, snapping Trey out of his thoughts and bringing his eyes from the door back to Jew. Trey obviously didn’t believe him because Jew came flying out of the garage and rolled down the drive way.

  “Nah, fuck this,” Trey said, stomping over to Jiggs’s house.

  Bianca and I were just braiding Jiggs’s mom’s hair, when all of a sudden, we hear the front door slam open.

  “Katie!” Trey called. “Katie! Where the fuck you at?”

  “What, nigga? I’m busy,” I said as he came stomping into the room.

  “So, you fuckin my friends now?” He had his hands on his hips, and his voice was angry.

  “What?” I snapped, not knowing what was going on.

  “Jew said ya’ll did it last night,” Trey accused me.

  “Uhm, he’s lying,” I informed my brother. “Yes, we did make out, and yes, that nigga tried to do it to me, but he a lie.”

  “Man, you can’t be hooking up with my friends? Katie, that’s bogus. You ain’t no hoe.” Trey was gesturing wildly with his hands.

  “I just kissed him, damn,” I shot back.

  “Okay, ya’ll can take this outside. Just come back when you deal with it. Shit, I’m tryna get my hair did,” Cathy said, folding her arms. Trey and Bianca and I went outside, where Jiggs, Ant, and Jew were already standing in front of Jiggs’s house. Trey stomped down the yard.