Poor White Trash

by Jane Carrington

  “Why won’t you break up with Sam?”

  “Because I don’t want to be alone.”

  He seemed momentarily taken aback by my honesty, and frankly, so was I. Then he nodded. “Neither do I,” he said.

  “Your birthday is coming up, then Halloween, and then Christmas. I really don’t want this to drag out over the holidays.”

  “And since when has this neighborhood been bursting with Christmas cheer, Jake?”

  “We had our own. At least it seemed like we did. We were each other’s Christmas.”

  “Yeah, I guess we were.”

  “Then can we just…deal with everything that is going on right now? Just try to figure it out, Meg. Can you just please…” He shrugged, unable to finish his sentence and held his hands out.

  My iron will couldn’t hold up any longer. “I’ll do my best.” I promised him and walked into his arms before he could drop them. He was radiating warmth; his neck smelled lightly of cologne. He wrapped his arms around me, slipping them under my coat and held me so tight I could scarcely breathe. I could feel the heat of his hands on the small of my back. He let out a deep sigh.

  “Thank you again for taking up for me today,” I said against his shoulder. He nodded and pulled back. He looked down at me; his eyes were shining in the icy moonlight as he studied me for a long moment. His breath was warm on my face. “Let me ask you one more time, and then I’ll never ask again.” I waited breathlessly.

  “Tell me why you don’t like Suzie.” he whispered. I felt my body stiffen, a magical moment gone to waste with the saying of her name. I opened my mouth, and then closed it, dropping my eyes.

  He nodded tightly and kissed me on the forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

  And then he was gone, taking his warmth and comfort with him, leaving me alone to wonder if Suzie would ever know he had sneaked into my yard and held me in the moonlight.

  Chapter 9

  I woke up on the morning of my birthday feeling indifferent. Though I had felt like one for years, I was now legally an adult. I didn’t feel any different than the day before and figured the only difference my birthday meant to the rest of the world was that I could be tried as an adult if I committed some horrendous crime. I’d better stay away from the cream puff; I smiled to myself, just in case.

  I hadn’t accepted the way things were, but over the last few weeks I found myself easily distracted with Sam’s patient affection. He tried so hard to be Jake. And I tried hard to let him. Jake made time for me, as promised. It wasn’t nearly as much time as I would like, and some of it was shared with her, but it was enough, for now, to have the deep and ugly tension behind us. I tried not to think of the ticking clock, counting down to when Jake would leave for basic training.

  Jake knocked on the door bright and early before anyone else was awake. I opened the door, smiled and let him in along with a gust of icy air. A heavy frost the night before left the normally drab surroundings outside painted a beautiful, clean white.

  He held a white box with chocolate cupcake on top. It had a small red heart and a single candle. I took the cupcake with a smile.

  “This looks delicious. What’s that?” I asked, pointing to the box..

  “It’s your birthday. It’s for you.”

  “You didn’t need to get me anything, Jake.”

  He shrugged and held it out with one hand, keeping the other behind his back.

  I was nervous opening it. I wasn’t selfish or ungrateful, but I rarely got presents and even more rarely was it something that I wanted or needed. With Jake, I should have known better.

  “Oh!” The box was packed with colored pencils, tinted charcoals and two new sketch pads. Overcome with happiness, my eyes welled up with tears. “It’s perfect, Jake. Thank you!” Now I could add color to my drawings and really breathe life into them. I still held them as I hugged him tight. “It’s perfect.”

  “And I have something else.” He pulled his hand out from behind his back something wrapped in white cloth.

  “What is it?” I asked, poking at the bulge inside.

  “Your Halloween costume.”

  “Ah.” I was trying not to think of Sam’s Halloween party tomorrow night. I would have to put up with cupcake for several hours. Seeing her and Jake together for that long without holding any restraint for being in a public place, well, I didn’t know if I could do it. I had a sudden sickness plan all hashed out in my mind and was fully prepared to use it.

  He opened the cloth, which turned out to be a shirt, an old fashioned artist’s smock to be exact, a black beret and a wooden painter’s palette, complete with shiny blobs of fake paints. He pulled a long paintbrush from his back pocket.

  “You’re Picasso.”

  I laughed. “I can’t go as Picasso.”

  “No one will know the truth.”

  “I don’t know, Jake, what if people ask me how I got the idea?”

  “Who’s going to ask? I’d be surprised if five people show up tomorrow night. Do you think any of them are that smart? Besides, you can think of this as your first time stepping out in public as an artist without anyone knowing the truth. It’s good practice.”

  “Good practice for what? I’m never showing my stuff to anyone else.”

  He stared at me with a warm, knowing smile. It was stupid really, no one would know about my drawings. There’s no way they could know. “And there’s something else.”

  “No, Jake, you’ve done enough.” You’re here, my eyes said.

  “It’s just a request for my birthday. I know it’s tacky to deliver a birthday present and then ask for something, but­”

  That’s right. His birthday was the day after Halloween, and I hadn’t any idea what to get him.

  “Draw me something,” he said. “That’s all I want. Something created by you, just for me.” He saw the alarm in my eyes and added quickly, “I’ll hide it and I’ll never tell anyone where it came from. I promise.”

  Crap. The one year I actually had money to buy him something, thanks to my squirreled away tips and he wanted something homemade. As if reading my mind, he said, “Besides, I want you to save your money for college.”

  I squirmed and my face twisted as if I was in pain.

  “Please?”

  There was no way I could deny him and I nodded, relenting.

  “Thank you, Jake. For all of this,” I said, turning the conversation away from things that made me writhe. “What are you dressing up as?”

  “No clue.” He laughed. “I might not go as anything.”

  “No fair!” I swatted his arm. “You dress up too or I won’t.” He laughed again. His contented eyes and mischievous smile caught me off guard. I stared for a moment and then looked away, fingering the smock.

  “I’ll think about it. I might have a few ideas. Listen, I have to work and then I have to um…I have plans, but I’ll see you tomorrow night, okay?”

  “Okay.” He reached for another hug and I held onto him a moment longer than a hug should last. He kissed my hair, just above my ear, and left.

  I practically ran to my room, blocking the door and spread out my new colors on my bed. I eyed my closet where my drawings hid and then jumped up to grab them, feeling more excited than I had been in months.

  Putting off the uncomfortable notion of creating something for Jake, I chose one of my black and white drawings, the couple clinging to each other at a train station, and began to add color with slow, calculated strokes. I didn’t want to ruin it.

  I remained lost in the pictures until a knock at the door startled me from my artists spell. Sam had asked to take me out to lunch for my birthday, and here I was, still in an old t-shirt and sweats with colored charcoal all over my hands.

  “Tell him I’ll be out in a minute!” I yelled. “And don’t let him in!”

  I threw everything together in an old box and stuffed my drawings in the bottom of my closet. The cheap sliding door popped off its track and began to fall; I grabbed it
right before it hit my head and propped it against the paneled wall. No time to fix it now. I grabbed my jeans and sweater, ran to the bathroom, scrubbed my hands and got ready in a flash. No time for make up; I simply pulled up my hair into a pony tail, grabbed my coat and landed on the porch a harried mess, apologizing for being late. He gave me a quick up and down glance with a curious eye, and then turned with me toward the car that waited in the street.

  I shivered as he opened the door.

  “Geez, what is it ten degrees out here?” I asked. He shrugged.

  After getting in the driver’s side, he turned up the heat. “While it’s warming up, I have something for you.”

  He reached into the backseat and pulled something out and placed it in my lap. It wasn’t wrapped. I tried to look surprised, happy and grateful staring down and the dreaded prepackaged soap and lotion basket in my lap.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Well, I noticed you’ve been taking more interest in how you look and smell-not that you smell bad,” he quickly corrected. “That sounded bad. It’s just that you’re a girl and I figured…”

  I stopped his back peddling with a smile.

  “Thank you, Sam. This is very sweet.”

  Very not me, but it’s the thought that counts.

  He put the car into drive and we headed out to lunch.

  ­♥­

  I was nervous and having second thoughts as I got ready for Sam’s Halloween party. I hated this kind of thing. I wished I could just do what I had done last year. Jake and I watched scary movies at his house all night and ate gallons of air popped popcorn. I slipped on the smock and fought with the beret to stay on my head. I stared at my reflection. You have got to be kidding me. I shook my head and walked out before I could change my mind altogether.

  Sam’s mother opened the door for me with a polite smile. “Hello, Meagan,” she said, inviting me inside. I glanced nervously at the full blown party going on behind her. Five people my foot! There were at least twenty people here. I didn’t know most of them. She put a hand on my arm-preventing me from running-and we walked a few steps. I looked around, amazed. A pound of flour and a roll of crepe was truly all she needed. The large living room of the double wide trailer was lit up and decorated perfectly. A long table sat against the wall, covered in a black cloth, sprinkled with spider webs and candles amidst an array of food. All of which looked like they had indeed been prepared by Martha Stewart herself. There was music blaring from the stereo in the corner.

  “Hey, you’re finally here. Party started a half hour ago.” Sam said as he emerged from the middle of a small knot of people in the center of the room.

  I had spent the entire afternoon coloring and the last half hour standing in front of the mirror feeling like a complete idiot. I didn’t even know how this stupid beret was supposed to sit on my head. It kept sliding off. The smock was way too big

  I held the palette limply at my side.

  “Cute costume,” Sam said with an entertained grin. “What are you supposed to be?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “A French pastry chef,” I said with a dry laugh.

  He looked at me with one eyebrow up and shrugged one shoulder. “Okay. C’mon. Have some punch.” He led me over to a bowl of green liquid smoldering with dry ice fog as I glanced around, looking for Jake.

  His parents made a quiet exit, apparently heading out for the evening. Handing me a glass covered in smiling pumpkins, he laughed at someone else’s joke and headed off toward the other end of the living room. I didn’t know if I should follow him or not. I just stood there, feeling stupid, wishing I could go home and work on my drawings.

  Hearing a high pitched laugh that sounded like a deranged munchkin, I turned and saw Suzie, dressed as a cheerleader. Complete with pig tails tied with curled green and blue Christmas ribbon, cheap plastic pom-poms and a skirt that might have been made for a two year old, barely covering the essentials. The equally miniature top revealed as much cleavage as possible. I rolled my eyes and groaned. Even her folded socks had little pom-poms on them.

  Some dork in a football costume, complete with helmet and mouth-guard stepped aside and I saw Jake, who was of course, standing next to the pom-pom pop tart.

  My mouth fell open and my stomach flipped, and then fell off a cliff. He was dressed head to toe in green fatigues, complete with army boots, camouflage cap and a sewn on tag bearing the name, Nichols.

  It took me a moment to realize this must be his father’s old uniform, though it fit so perfectly across the shoulders, it looked like it was made just for him. He looked taller and completely grown up. He saw me and moved his hand from the small of Suzie’s back. With an awkward wave, he turned and whispered something to Suzie before walking over to me. Her eyes wandered around the crowd until they landed on me and her smile dropped.

  “Hey. I’m glad you wore the costume, Miss Ar-teest,” he said, giving me a one armed side hug.

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m serious. I’m glad you wore it.”

  “I’m talking about you. You think this costume is funny?” I said, reaching up and flicking the cap with my finger. He straightened it and smiled.

  “What? Don’t I look good?” His eyes teased. He did look good. Too good. I shot a hateful glance toward Suzie only to find she had a fixed glare on us. I didn’t want to admit it, but the uniform suited him and the deep green brought out his features in a way that I couldn’t stare at for too long. I felt dizzy.

  Maybe the punch is spiked, I thought, staring down into the neon green liquid.

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” I said mockingly. “I just don’t think it’s funny to flaunt it that you’re going to be leaving soon.” I looked back up at him and the dizziness returned.

  “It was a free costume. Don’t read anything into it, okay?”

  “So, you didn’t’ tell raspberry torte over there about my drawing, did you?”

  “No, of course not. I swore my secrecy.”

  “Good. Because I don’t think the little fritter could begin to understand how important it is to me and she’d sing it all over town before you knew it.”

  “Why do you insist on calling her every possible variation of a dessert cake?” His lips quivered and then broke into a grin.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because she’s cute and sweet on the outside but full of fluff on the inside. There doesn’t seem to be much substance to her.”

  “You don’t even know her.” He handed me a fresh cup of punch.

  “AND I don’t want to, Jake.” It was bad enough I had to put up with her for a half hour a day at lunch where she kept mostly quiet proving she did have a brain after all.

  I glanced over at the noisy squawking rising above the music. Suzie was jumping around with her pom-poms chanting something like was trying out for the squad. I could see why she never made it.

  “Who’s she cheering for?” I asked and took a sip of punch.

  “Who knows. I think she’s trying to get my attention back.”

  “And you like that, don’t you, Jake?” My tone mingled sarcastic and accusing.

  “Hey,” he smiled and winked at me. “Everyone loves a man in uniform.” I smiled despite myself and watched him go. Sure enough, Suzie settled down from her uncoordinated seizure when Jake returned. I turned around and try to forget they were there.

  “Hey.” Sam came up behind me and slipped an arm around my waist. “Aren’t you having a good time?”

  “Yeah. It’s fun,” I lied.

  “You’re not being social at all. You’re just sort of standing here, looking bored.”

  “I told you I’m not a big party person, Sam.”

  “Well, loosen up a little.”

  I shrugged apologetically.

  “Is it bugging you that Jake is here?”

  “No,” I said causally.

  He looked around with mild frustration. “What can I do to help you have a good time?”

  “Nothing, Sam.
I’m fine, really.” I smiled and put my hand over his. He grasped it and held it tight, pulling me toward him. “Wanna make out?” he whispered.

  “In the middle of your party? No, thank you.”

  “We could sneak off to the back room.” He was a damn good kisser and while the thought was tempting, with Jake near, or even the thought of Jake, made it impossible to consider.

  “That’s okay.”

  “Let’s dance,” he said, pulling on my arm.

  “I don’t dance, Sam. You know that.”

  He walked over to the stereo and changed it to a cd of love songs.

  “Crap,” I whispered.

  He cut some of the brighter lights and everyone coupled off, save a few that didn’t bring dates. They wandered in the kitchen to get more snacks.

  Sam started walking toward me and dread welled up in my stomach. I wasn’t one for public displays of affection and the confident look of lust and adoration in his eyes that should have made any girl giddy, made me feel like running.

  He took me in his arms it must have been like dancing with a statue; he ran his hand down my back and whispered, “Relax.”

  I couldn’t. I knew what was coming. As we made slow, swaying circles in the middle of the room, they came into view and I was completely miserable.

  Jake looked somewhat uncomfortable as well, holding Suzie at a bit of a distance. She did her best to close that gap, and looked like a frantic cat who couldn’t snuggle hard enough. I did my best to keep my eyes down.

  Sarah McLachlan didn’t help, crooning her song, “Stupid.”

  Welcome to the club, Sarah, I thought. If she goes on to sing “I love you” I’m outta here.

  “What was that?” Sam pulled back and asked.

  Crap. Did I say that out loud?

  “Nothing. My stomach’s kind of upset.”

  I felt my fake illness back up plan kicking into action. We came around again and Jake looked up, staring directly at me. Everything around him was blurry. After holding my gaze for a long moment, he bent and planted an eager and passionate kiss on Suzie’s mouth.