I Like Dirt (Jack. Book 2)

by Laine Watson

  I think Jack might have been correct. I’m in some deep shit, I thought. And it continued. People, women, guys, teenagers, mothers, thot and housewife alike, were all waving innocently to my baby brother. Guys tipping their hats off to him so to speak. The gang of young men that followed behind Trey and I were all wearing sunglasses at seven p.m. in the fall;it’s dark as hell!

  Why do you have on sunglasses? I was astonished. How Trey knew these people, I had no idea. But I also assumed as Jack thought, they thought he was a twenty-year-old mogul, who had a great following and if you weren’t following, get the fuck out the way.

  “See they know who the fuck I be,” Trey whispered as he waved and winked at people.

  We got up to the ticket booth, paid and entered the stadium. I was still a little taken off-guard at how popular my brother was and for no apparent reason. We walked through the concession and other stands before we got to the bleachers. There were groups of people standing around making small talk and minding their own business. Some people were passing Trey and trying to talk to him, but he kept moving, greeting them only, and saying random ‘move along’ statements. I looked to the left of the stadium and there were a group of guys rapping and dancing. I smiled.

  “Man, here they go,” Trey said, stopping before we could get past them. I noticed Patrick was in the group. It made me smile. He was such a good dancer. And he was handsome. Trey rolled his eyes as his posse gathered around him.

  “I can’t stand that dude,” Trey mumbled, turning his lip up.

  “How do you even know him?” I asked.

  “Pat? His weak ass used to kick it with us, but he a bitch. His name even a bitch-ass name, Patrick,” Trey informed me.

  “Yeah, I can’t stand his new edition-ass,” Ant agreed.

  “You stupid, you went hella back.” Trey laughed.

  “You still a bitch, Pat!” Trey yelled. Patrick glanced our way.

  “Yeah, and you still fucking around with illiterate mu’fuckas,” Patrick said and turned back around. My brother frowned and took a breath.

  “Don’t get yo ass beat at the first game this year,” Trey said. Patrick ignored him and continued talking with his friends.

  “That’s what I thought,” Trey muttered, walking away.

  We found a seat as more fans were piling in, and the cheer and dance squads took their places. There was no reason to be at the game. No one that we sat with paid any attention to the game or anything dealing with the game. There was a lot of making fun of people, and lots of laughter about random things. There were lots of pictures taken of themselves, and of other people they thought would make a good reference to something funny, and lots of shit-talking.

  I’m so ready to go, I sighed. My phone buzzed.

  “Having fun?” Jack texted.

  “Blah,” I replied.

  “I told you. All they wanna do is start shit,” Jack texted back. No one noticed me get up. I walked down the bleachers and back into the front of the stadium. I called Jack.

  “Hello,” Jack said.

  “I’m ready to go,” I complained, leaning up against a wall.

  “They fightin yet?” he asked me.

  “No, we’re just hanging out,” I replied.

  “Hangin out, huh?” Jack inquired.

  “Yeah.”

  “But you not having fun?” he asked.

  “Dang, why you…”

  “Cuz they do stupid shit!” Jack snapped.

  “Then why you hang out with them?” I asked.

  “Do you see me hangin’ out?”

  “They be at your house all the time. And we always somewhere,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, they be at my house. They come to me,” Jack said. “I don’t go to them. And every time we go somewhere, it’s hella cops, right? I don’t do the shit they do.”

  “How do you and Trey even know each other?” I asked him. Jack sighed.

  “You really not havin any fun, are you?” he asked.

  “No, I’m bored as hell.” I laughed.

  “Trey, just always have my back. That’s it. He never did nothing foul to me. So I’on do nothing foul to him,” Jack said. I sniffled. “You understand?”

  “Yeah.” I looked up and saw a large group of people coming from the door to the stadium. The game was over, and everyone was headed out.

  “I gotta go,” I said.

  “The game’s over?” Jack asked me.

  “Yeah.”

  “You comin home?”

  “Home?”

  “Yeah…” he paused, “…home.”

  “Yeah.” I smiled. That sounded so right.

  “A’ight.” I could hear the grin in the sound of his voice.

  The call ended and I shoved my phone into the pocket of my high-waisted jeans as I headed to the parking lot. The second that I lifted myself off the wall and took the first step, I could hear the same things that I had been hearing since I as fourteen-years-old: the hoots, the hollers, the comments on my breasts and my body.

  I tuned them out as best I could. It’s hard to hear how “fine” I am, and then, when I don’t respond, how big my head is and how much of a bitch I am. You’d think after four years, things would change. But no. The young boys turned into teenagers, and then into men that say the same thing. As long as I was cooperative and quiet it was fine. But ignoring them was worse than having a conversation with them. When things like that happened, it made the world seem smaller, or me seem like I was in a parallel universe

  I hated Becs a little bit for reminding me about Jack. I had put him away, but even before he was back, he was ‘back’. So now, all those things that were being said about me just made me need to be with Jack. But mostly, it made me want to have sex with him. I needed to have an orgasm from him, and the good thing about it, is that I didn’t have to pull out that screwdriver. I could go to the real Jack. Hear his voice that was deeper, feel his hands that were bigger, and kiss his thin lips that were the only thing that stayed the same.

  I should have stayed with Trey’n’em. I said to myself.

  When I made it outside, it seemed better. I walked to the car. Halfway through the parking lot, I just stopped. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing; Trey was driving by me, with Jew hanging out of the sun roof, windows down, and the music blasting as loud as possible. Two other guys were in the back seat, and behind them, Ant and Jiggs were doing the same thing in their own car with more unknown people. I cocked my hip to the side, flipped my hair and rolled my eyes as Trey rolled up to me.

  “What the FUCK are you doing?” I asked him.

  “Man, get in the car,” Trey said, a bit embarrassed.

  “I’m driving,” I snapped.

  “Nawh, man! Katie…” Trey whined, looking stressed.

  “What you mean, nawh? I’m ready to go,” I told him.

  “Com’on man, we just gotta go to the Castle. I promise it ain’t gone be that long!” Trey begged.

  “No, I wanna go home,” I insisted.

  “Then let me get the car? You just wanna go fuck Money, anyway,” he pointed out. My eyes got wider than I thought they ever could. Jew laughed along with the other guys. I was so embarrassed.

  “Fuck no! Especially now,” I said.

  “I’m sorry, man. Please Katie, I promise! We just wanna go for a little while. Man, everybody gone think I’m weak,” Trey said, depending on me. I knew that was his biggest fear. And even though he was 100% right about me wanting to go fuck Jack, I couldn’t be the reason Trey would have had to deal with people talking about him. Whether I understood it or not, his friends, or who he considered his friends, would have made fun of him. Especially if he got “Punked” by his “Little” sister. Trey’s face was like a sad puppy’s. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the passenger-side door.

  “Get in the back!” I snapped, rolling my eyes at Jew. He smiled at me, undressing me with his eyes. I rolled my eyes again. He got in the back, and I got in the car, pissed off. Trey sped out of
the parking lot. We drove and drove, way further than needed to get to The Castle.

  The Castle? There’s one right down the street, I thought, confused.

  “Where we going?” I asked Trey.

  “The Castle,” Trey responded.

  “Then why we on the highway?” I asked.

  “We going to the one in Westfield,” Trey explained, looking at me with vulnerability in his eyes. I huffed and rolled my eyes, folding my arms and sitting back.

  The music drowned out any conversation and the tension between us until we pulled in at The Castle in Westfield.

  Have you ever seen a rap video staged outside with lots of fancy cars, overly-club-dressed people? That’s pretty much how The Castle’s parking lot looked. Why did my brother want to drive my white Grand Am and park it beside all these cars with better sound systems, butterfly doors, fresh waxes, shiny exteriors, rims, tops dropped, and bitches and hoes everywhere? I’ll tell you why: because he wanted to be counted. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have all that stuff; what mattered is that he was there, and he drove up. And that’s why I was there. To keep his facade going. There were no bitches and hoes around our car. But there were plenty to go around.

  Trey left the car running, doors opened, music blaring. And the forty guys who had on those graffiti hoodies piled behind Trey as he walked the parking lot, greeting people, shaking their hands, smooth-talking the ladies, and pretending that he was a twenty-two-year-old college student who had dropped out because he had better things to do than to be in school. He had slanging to do, posting up to do, clubbing to do, stealing folks’ bitches to do, living from pillow-to-post to do.

  I sat in the car, annoyed and ready to go, yet happy to let him do this because that’s what made him happy. And happy was hard to come by for Trey. The “Loone Toones” were spread out around the parking lot. I was sitting in the car still.

  He said it wasn’t gonna be long. It’s been more than an hour. I sighed, trying to push down my anxiousness. I still needed Jack to touch me and do stuff, to get all that mess out of me, to get the voices out of my head. My phone rang.

  “Hello?” I said.

  “Hot Rod,” It was Jack.

  “What?” I asked miserably.

  “Where you at?” he wanted to know.

  “Trey wanted to go to The Castle,” I explained.

  “The Castle?”

  “We all the way in Westfield,” I told him.

  “What? See, I told you,” Jack said.

  “We’ll be there in a little bit,” I replied. He didn’t respond. I smiled, “Do you miss me?”

  He didn’t answer that question, either.

  “Well, just text me when y’all on your way,” he said, annoyed.

  “Okay…” I said, a little sad.

  I stepped out the car and looked around for Trey. He and some of his Loone Toones walked over to the car.

  “When are we leaving?” I asked as they turned around, facing the building. The Castle was a twenty-four-hour burger joint and after anything, the club, any kind of game, a party; pretty much any function that could go on to the wee hours of the night without a definite ending time, any group of people, not ready to go home, could and would come and finish their night right there.

  “We ‘bout to go,” Trey said, annoyed.

  “I’m for real, Trey.” I insisted.

  “Alright Katie, dang.” Trey complained, as if I was cramping his style. He, Jiggs, Ant and Jew stood facing the building. My car was about four cars back from the entrance. Even though we had been there over an hour, closer to two by this point, cars were still rolling into the parking lot past us. As the cars rolled up, Trey watched them, nodding to some and ignoring others.

  Two black, shiny cars with big, bulky, beautiful bodies and silver spinning rims pulled up slowly. People were greeting the riders as they rolled the windows down.

  “Who the fuck is these lames?” Trey said, lip turned up. The attention of most of the parking lot had been on Trey and his crew. Now, it was on the two shiny cars.

  I smirked. Those were the nicest cars on the lot. I wanted to see who was driving them. Trey turned to me. He seemed surprised to see even the presence of a smile on my face, since I had been overly expressing my unhappiness.

  “I’m telling Money.” Trey smiled.

  As the driver-side and passenger-side windows rolled down in both vehicles, Trey turned back to the cars to see who was driving up. It was Patrick. I couldn’t hold my smile as he turned to me. I smiled, and he winked at me. Trey noticed none of this.

  “This weak-ass motha fucka!” Trey shouted, taking my attention. He turned around forcefully to Jiggs and the other graffiti hoodie-wearers.

  “SQUAD UP!” Trey shouted. In less than ten seconds Trey, Jew, Ant and Jiggs were reaching into the cars, punching the passengers. I couldn’t believe my eyes. More people came running to defend the car passengers, as well as more squad-uppers to defend the Loone Toones. I hopped in my car while everyone else ran over to investigate the fight. By the time I got the car started and put in gear, the police sirens were sounding and everyone scattered. Trey and Jew hopped in the car with me, and I pulled off. I didn’t care about anyone else. I wasn’t even concerned with Ant and Jiggs. In minutes, we were on the highway and away from The Castle.

  “What the fuck was that?” I asked.

  “Man, that ain’t got nothing to do with you,” Trey told me.

  “It’s got a lot to do with me when we out in Westfield ‘bout to go to jail,” I snapped.

  “Man, wasn’t nobody bout to go to jail,” Trey said angrily, then he smiled. “But you drove off fast as fuck.” He laughed, looking back for validation from Jew.

  “For real.” Jew laughed. I couldn’t stay angry. I laughed too, actually it was pretty funny.

  I pulled up to Jack’s house, realizing I hadn’t even called him.

  “Dang nigga, how y’all get here before us?” Trey asked, getting out the car.

  Jiggs, Ant, and some other guys who had been at The Castle were standing outside of Jack’s house. Jack was smoking a cigarette, leaning on his car as I got out of the car with everyone else.

  I don’t know what the response was to Trey’s question was. All I could see was Jack. He gave me the eyes, and not the sexy eyes; the eyes that you give your girl when she been playing all night, and you wish she’d bring her ass on, but you too cool to say that. I leaned next to Jack on his car as he dropped his ashes on the concrete. We watched Trey and his friends reenact their version of what happened with the fight. Jack was listening, but I wasn’t.

  “See, I told you,” Jack said. I didn’t respond, I just rolled my eyes. He sniffed. Everything was silent to me. Jack and I weren’t talking, but I could feel the tension between us, and all he was doing was smoking his cigarette. I gulped.

  “Jack?” I peeped.

  “What’s up?” He looked at me. I don’t know if he saw it in my eyes, but all that I was able to convey was that I wanted him to fuck me. That was all. I felt a little dirty. After the guys from the game, they didn’t even say that much, and nothing directly to me, the fact that they were cat calling me just made me feel like, all their words on me, and the smile I gave to Patrick, I wanted Jack to wash it all away. He sniffled and put his hand on the small of my back and led me inside the house.

  Trey and his friends continued to speak loudly and dramatically and he stopped for only a moment to watch Jack lead me into his house. I don’t know what he thought. But it’s got to feel some kind of way to know that your best friend is fucking your sister, to know all the things that you guys have done together, and all that Jack had done and told Trey about.

  Trey let it go and continued telling his version of the story.

  Jack cleaned me up real good. Got all those words off my skin, got that thought of another guy out of my head. He gave me my medicine. And then, because I pouted, we went back to my house.

  Chapter Ten: What’s Wrong?

&nbs
p; I woke up in my bed without Jack. Immediately, I felt abandoned. It was like I had been hit with a wall. I reached down and grabbed my vagina. It was almost involuntary. I sucked my teeth, closing my eyes.

  “Jack?” I whispered. I heard someone walking into the room outside my room. My door opened.

  “Oh, you’re up. I fucking hate your bed,” he said as he had many times before. He smiled, noticing I was holding my crotch. “W-What are you doing?”

  “I thought you weren’t here,” I whined. He studied me. I looked ill, or maybe mentally ill.

  “Hot Rod, are you okay?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “Yeah…” I said, releasing my hands from my panties.

  “Are you sure?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I said.

  He studied me more. I gulped. It felt like the words started to appear on my skin again. Like he could see my secret.

  Big tittie bitch.

  Don’t nobody won’t yo ass.

  Let me tittie fuck you.

  Ug’glass

  Big forehead ass

  Suck my dick.

  Damn, look at them big ass titties.

  Laughter. Mocking. BITCH!

  I squirmed with my eyes closed. It seemed that I lost consciousness for a split second. My eyed rolled back in my head.

  “Hot Rod?” Jack said, leaning over me, touching my belly. I opened my eyes and took his hand and slid it down my stomach and onto my vagina. He smiled,

  “Oh, that’s what you want? Dreaming about me?” He smiled. I grinned.

  “Maybe,” I replied timidly.

  “Damn, baby. You missed the dick that much? You be dreaming about me?” he asked.