I Like Dirt (Jack. Book 2)

by Laine Watson

  Maybe I could just wash the feeling away. I turned the water on, and took a long, hot shower. When I stepped out, I should have been stress-free, but when I looked in the mirror, all I saw were those black words, scribbled all over my skin. The feeling of wanting to be fucked had subsided a bit, but it was back full force. I didn’t even put any clothes on. I marched back to my room.

  I don’t care if it’s stupid, I thought as I began to cry; everything in me hurt badly. My whole body hurt, my heart hurt—it was like there was complete hollowness in me. The breath was sucked out of me, and it hurt to do anything, even live.

  I slammed open my bedroom door, heading to my dresser, I opened the second drawer and rummaged through my underwear drawer frantically looking for the screwdriver, still sobbing. I went to the bathroom and let the screwdriver’s handle run under warm water so it wouldn’t be cold. It’d be warm and filling, like Jack.

  I held it in my hand. It was warm, firm, yet still soft. It was perfect, but still not Jack. I could barely wait to get it inside of me. All those thoughts, those feelings, the longing for Jack and the utter darkness that seemed to surround me, would be gone upon insertion. I lay down on my bed, breathing heavily, anticipating the feeling. I couldn’t keep Jack’s name off my tongue as I pretended that he teased me.

  “Jack…” I sighed. I felt hopelessly desperate for the one thing that I couldn’t have, the one thing I didn’t think I could live without. I gulped and scooted down the bed and put that blue screwdriver handle inside of me. It was warm. Warm and easing to the spirit.

  It was slow at first, and then it was fast, and I was ready to have that orgasm, the kind that only Jack had given me. You have to understand that it was nothing like it was with him. Nothing could replace Jack’s dick, his touch, nothing. Given the fact that only Jack and myself alone had ever been able to give me an orgasm, I still thought it was good enough. And when I did have my orgasm, I called out to him: “Jack…” Over and over. I could almost feel his hands on me, I could almost taste his kiss, I could almost smell the weed and the scent of his skin that intoxicated me. My body released, and I was clean again. I lay there, screwdriver in hand, breathing heavily, having “had” Jack.

  Chapter Two: Coping Mechanics

  I got up out of my bed after I heard the front door close behind Becs and Crystal as they left the house for the day. I walked across the room and opened my closet door.

  “Hey, get up! They’re gone,” I said kicking Trey, who was curled up on a blanket on the floor of my closet. He was more handsome since he had grown up, still as chocolaty as ever, but he was six-feet tall and muscular, with tattoos everywhere. He had had a couple of run-ins with the law, and a couple of run-ins with Becs, too. That would be why he was sleeping in the closet. Something had happened, something Trey wouldn’t tell me, and Becs had declared that he couldn’t stay with us anymore. Needless to say, they weren’t together anymore.

  “So, I got school and work today. You gonna have some place to be?” I asked Trey.

  “Oh, yeah. Okay…man, I appreciate you for being here for me. I don’t got nowhere to go. I gotta figure some things out,” Trey said, rubbing Vaseline onto his wavy hair.

  “It’s no problem. I understand,” I said.

  “Man, no. You don’t know, Katie. It’s crazy out here,” Trey said humbly.

  “Well, I got your back, so,” I smirked.

  “Man, I been kicking it with these dudes, Money and Jiggs. They cool. I be cutting Jiggs mama’n’em grass and shit— you know, a lil type-a-job,” Trey explained.

  Nothing, absolutely nothing. Nothing. The name “Money” didn’t ring a bell. It didn’t jog any memories. Nothing.

  “Well, that’s good. I mean, whatever helps.” I smiled.

  “Man, I wish Becs’d let me come stay back here,” he said.

  “I do, too. I hope they don’t put me out if they catch you here.” I laughed.

  “Man, I know I’m putting you in a bind,” Trey said regretfully.

  “It’s okay. Whatever happens, happens.” I shrugged.

  “Katie, you don’t know how grateful I am, I mean...” He didn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he just sighed.

  “Well, I should probably get going. You got all your stuff?” I asked him.

  “Yeah, man…can you take me to Jiggs’s house, please?” he asked. I thought about it for a second.

  “Where they live?” I asked.

  “In Old Cooper Creek,” he said. We lived down the road and to the left of that development.

  “Yeah, if we leave in the next five minutes, I’ll be able to take you and still make it to class on time,” I said.

  “Yeah, sure that’s no problem,” he replied.

  We hopped into our grandmother’s white ‘96 Grand Am, and we were off. We lived in Harian Neighbors. It was a nice neighborhood, way nicer than we should be living in. We were all technically college students, and because we had three roommates, we were able to afford a nice house by the lake.

  I drove Trey to Jiggs’s house. They lived a little down the road and a corner turn from us, maybe a five-minute drive away. There were some apartments in the front of the neighborhood and behind them were a string of nice houses, one of them belonging to Jiggs’s. When I pulled up, Trey got out of the car. I waited for him to go in the house, but he walked to the neighbors’ yard.

  Sitting there in the driveway were four boys, who either should have been at school or at work. Trey walked up to them, and I just drove off. They were all looking at me. I rolled my eyes and thought to myself, I don’t know why they looking, they obviously don’t got nothing going for them, sitting around in the middle of the day like it Howdy Fucking Doody…never, I said to myself.

  Maybe if I hadn’t been so hellbent on not looking at them and making sure they knew I was too good for them, even though that wasn’t at all how I felt, I may have realized that sitting there in a lawn chair with a buzz-cut was the answer to all my dreams, all my prayers. It was Jack. But I couldn’t see that. He saw me, though. And he knew it was me. After it was all over, Jack explained to me how it all happened.

  “What up, Money,” Trey said, giving him a cool hand shake.

  “What up pimpin’?” Jack smiled. His blue eyes glistened.

  “Where you been?” Jiggs grinned.

  “Man, I been around…” Trey said, sitting down in one of the lawn chairs.

  Even though they were living in a nice neighborhood, there was a Yukon parked in front of their house and their grass was cut, they were sitting in the driveway in front of the garage in some lawn chairs—ghetto-style.

  I rolled my eyes at them because I was sure my brother fit right in. It was weird because we weren’t really raised together; we didn’t become close until we got older. We spent a few years together, but then we were everywhere. And even after all those years, I still hadn’t forgiven my mother for taking my grandmother and Jack from me. He was like a ghost that lived on, that haunted me. I was taking care of myself and my brother, and I was doing a good job for almost not being a teenager anymore. I waved to Trey as I drove off.

  When I turned around and passed the house again in the cul-de-sac, I could feel them all looking at me. Jew like a slobbering dog, Jiggs like a hot-tail little boy, and Jack, like he had seen a ghost.

  “Damn man, who is that?” Jew said, still looking at me as I drove away. He was handsome, too, with golden skin the color of honey and eyes that were the same color. Trey said he lied all the time. Of course, I didn’t know this at the time. I didn’t care at the time. I guess I don’t really care now, it was just something that stuck with me and made me steer clear of him.

  “Man, that’s my susta,” Trey said, taking a seat next to Jack. “She don’t fuck with thugs no way.” Jack wanted to say, “Yes the fuck she do…” but he just listened.

  “What she like, then?” Jew asked.

  “Damn, nigga! Stop acting thirsty.” Trey laughed as Jack passed the blunt to him. “Nah, ma
n. I ain’t smoking that shit no more. White boys be fucking you up.”

  “It ain’t got nothing in it, man. It’s just weed.” Jack laughed.

  “I’m cool,” Trey said.

  “Nah, homie, so what’s up with me and yo susta? She fine as hell.” Jiggs smiled, trying to take the blunt from Trey.

  “Sit’cho lil ass down,” Trey said. “She don’t fuck with lil boys, either. Nigga, graduate high school then try to get some poo-nah-nee. Why the fuck y’all acting like that?”

  “…wha’s her name?” Jack said coolly, though he knew what Trey would say.

  “Damn, you too, Money?” Trey said, looking over at him.

  “Nah, I’m just asking,” Jack replied.

  “Oh, it’s Katie,” Trey said. Jack looked puzzled. He was in deep thought.

  Jiggs was sure that even though he was only fourteen, he could get me. He was completely incorrect, but he was definitely a little cutie. He had rough curls on his head, a lanky, big headed little boy, and he was gonna break someone’s heart; just not mine.

  “Man, hook me up?” Jew said.

  “Nah, man, get that shit out your mind. She’on even like dudes like you,” my brother defended me.

  “Man, how the fuck is that you sister? You black as hell,” Jew snarled.

  “She got a different daddy,” my brother informed them.

  “Damn…yo mamma a thot?” Jew joked.

  “Nigga, shut the fuck up, asking stupid ass question— you gone piss me off,” Trey spit out angrily, looking at him. And Jews knew when to shut up, too. That was one thing. Everybody knew Trey was crazy, and that if he wasn’t good at anything else, he was good at fighting. He didn’t care if you were a friend or not. If you crossed him, you were getting an ass beating, even if you weren’t getting anything else.

  I probably needed to see somebody because I wasn’t coping with the loss of Jack at all. I was making it worse. I was reliving it, stuck in the past, and I couldn’t let go. I didn’t even know how to let him go. I only knew how to hold on to him…to Jack. It was the demons in me. They took me over.

  Before I could even leave the school campus, the image of Jack and I running around in the park by the baseball diamond came into my head, almost rendering me motionless. It always hit me so hard; his beautiful face, the way his dirty hands touched me… I even missed his mother. I wished I could hear her yell at Jack again, call him Jackie. I wished she would catch us having sex again.

  I was uncomfortable on the ride home. It was just hitting me. I even felt bad, so embarrassed, so dumb for going down to his house in Washington Heights that time. He was probably dead, or maybe he was now a movie star, and he wouldn’t even be caught dead with someone like me. I knew now more than ever that I was definitely going home in the middle of the day to fuck myself with a screwdriver and scream Jack’s name.

  On the way home, I tried to talk myself out of it. Reminding myself of the last relationship I had. I had loved Chad. At least a little, I thought. If I’d seen him, then I may have had sex with him that night. I realized it may have even been my fault that we broke up. All I had ever done was talk about Jack, even to him. I had held it in for over two years, and I guess I couldn’t anymore. No matter how much he tried, Chad couldn’t make me happy. I know he was tired of hearing about a sixteen-year-old boy that I didn’t know anymore, who I constantly told Chad was better than him.

  But what I had with Chad, it was nothing, nothing at all. We only had sex once. It wasn’t good, but I tried to pretend it was. I tried to pretend he wasn’t creepy. I mean, he was, yet I still liked him. I even thought that maybe if I scrape the bottom of the barrel, it wouldn’t matter because at least he’ll be good, right? Chad really was attractive, and if I was going to like a man, well, someone other than Jack, then in theory, it would have been him. I don’t think I could have made a better man if I had dreamt him up myself. He had eyes that were so blue, and the blondest hair, and this red scruffy little beard, just like Jack. See what I mean? All I was doing was just trying to recreate Jack.

  Chad had biceps upon biceps, and he was extra cuddly—girls like that. But yet again, I wasn’t happy. I was the exact opposite of happy, and I destroyed it all on my own. I asked God. Oh yes, I asked him to help me. Because I really wanted it to work. I thought if I couldn’t have Jack, then why not have this guy? He wouldn’t hurt me. He was a creeper. He was seemingly perfect. I mean, he was a tad shorter than Jack, but at least he was taller than me.

  Oh well, I pissed that away quite beautifully, and made a mockery of myself. Here I am, but I don’t want you. You are a creepy dude, and so many people warned me. Even Becs told me, but you know me. I don’t listen. Just gotta test the waters. Now, look how things have ended up. Here, with a swift, almost debilitating blow to my self-esteem; the pitiful-looking, creepy dude who masturbates before he comes on a date with you and then tells you on that date. What could you do but smile and try not to feel disgusted? Then keep telling yourself, he is FOYN! The dude who is suddenly ignoring your calls, moving on from you like you did something to him. The dude who is telling everybody that he fucked you. And you wonder why I constantly fuck myself?

  Obviously, because I am so undesirable and unlovable that even the creepiest dude in a fifty-mile radius, give or take some intensely awkward teenagers who have yet to even brush the cusp of social acceptance, the guy in the rapist jacket at the electronics store is telling you he doesn’t want to be with you. So, what? Yeah, I just went back to Jack. I know it’s worse, but I don’t care. Actually, I do care. I just can’t do anything about it. After Chad, I felt like Jack was the only guy in the world who could ever love me, who would ever love me, and I had no idea where he was.

  I laid in bed, drowning in thoughts of him. I didn’t want to go to school the next day. I wanted to die or something, move away, start over. Anything. But mostly, I wanted Jack. And the only way I could get to him was with a screwdriver up in my watoosy, and wait for the splash, and pretend he gave it to me. One time wasn’t enough. I had to do it again.

  I balled up again and cried, and then fell asleep.

  That was a hard night. It was starting to get a little creepy. Here I was, an almost-eighteen-year-old woman, still in love with a sixteen-year-old boy, a woman who hadn’t had sex as good as that she had when she was fourteen, when she shouldn’t have been having sex at all. Of all the memories of my life, those are the only ones I seemed to recall on the regular basis.

  I woke up in the morning and I dragged myself to school. And who else would I see strolling down the hall in the technical building, but Chad. He walked straight past me like he didn’t know who I was. It wasn’t even like I cared. It was just that after that guy from the store said those things, and for him to look past me as if I were no one, nothing? I just felt like I would never fall in love again, or at least never even know what it meant. I had the urge to go Jacking. That’s the name I gave to screwing myself. Literally, screwing myself.

  I had to be honest with myself— if the chance came about that Chad and I would get into a heated situation, I don’t know if I could trust myself to turn the other cheek. Vulnerability is mind-warping, and sometimes you can talk yourself into your own demise. I just passed by him, and he didn’t look at me and I didn’t look at him. I went straight into the cafeteria and sat down. I didn’t even go to the counter to get any food. I just sat down at one of the tables.

  As I was sitting there, I saw this guy, I could tell he was left-handed. He looked like the mixed version of an Orlando Bloom wannabe. He even had the same hair. I was sure to walk right past him. I figured that since Chad was a surfer kid, they had never crossed paths, but I couldn’t be too sure.

  The day had been a horrible drag, and I didn’t have anything else that was going to keep me occupied that day. I didn’t want to stay on campus, so I just texted Jen to meet me at the house when she got out of class. Jen was my friend from Chicago, she was only down in Reedsville for school. Then I drove home to
wait for her to get out of class. When I opened the front door, I found that Alex was over.

  “Alex!” I shouted in excitement. I hadn’t seen her for a while. She was Becs’s god sister, and we only ever saw her every now and then, but she was getting older. She was about sixteen, and she liked to party just like we did.

  “Katie!” she said, running over to me and hugging me as I was standing on the landing of the downstairs staircase.[CJ1]

  “Hey, how’s it going?” I smiled, walking up the stairs with her side-by-side.

  “It’s going great! I’m gonna be here for a few weeks— Mom went to Vegas,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Why’d she go there?” I asked.

  “Who knows?” She shrugged.

  “Well, that’s cool…” I looked over at Becs, who was in the kitchen, standing and waiting for her hot pocket to finish in the microwave. She was pretty. She had the biggest, brownest eyes and was so thin, no booty, just legs and legs. She barely had any boobs. I mean, compared to me, nobody had boobs. She had dyed her silky hair magenta, and she looked like a Panamanian princess mixed with some black because that was she was. She mostly looked Latina, but she was mixed.

  Meanwhile, Crystal was as white as white could be, and her eyes were a crystal clear blue, with her hair as platinum as you could get it. She looked like an albino white person. But, she was good at being a stripper, and I bet that excessive whiteness paid off—made her look exotic or something. She probably was an exotic specialty down at the Hustler. But since she wasn’t really my friend, I didn’t know too much about her…other than the stripper thing.

  Alex was my friend. Ever since we met, I thought she was cool. She was a bit bigger than I was, but with large breasts and big hips, she looked like a woman at the age of fifteen and even more so now. I could hang with her because the guys weren’t looking at only me; they were looking at her, too. The only difference was, she covered it in band tees and black jeans. She had pretty much everything pierced. Her lip, her nose, like every part of her ears, her eyebrow, her belly button, her tongue. That’s all I could see, she probably had more hidden away.