I Like Dirt (Jack. Book 2)

by Laine Watson

  “No…” Jack agonized.

  “No? You tell your grandmother, no?”

  “No, I just…that’s too many people.”

  “Okay. Well…me, your mother, and your little girlfriend? Is that okay for Jackie?” His grandmother asked. He sighed.

  “Yeah, that’s fine.” I looked at him with surprised eyes. How could he just volunteer us?

  “Good. Where’d you meet her, Jackie?” his grandmother asked.

  “School,” he replied vaguely.

  “School?”

  “Yeah, like grade school.”

  “Oh.” She paused, “So, she’s been your girlfriend for a while?”

  “Yeah.” he said, smiling at me. “Well no, just for a little while.”

  “You’re friends, or that’s your girlfriend?”

  “She’s my girlfriend,” he insisted. I smiled at him.

  There was a little silence, “…lemme talk to her.”

  “Gra’ma!”

  “Alright, Alright.” She paused, I’ll see you guys next Sunday,” Jack’s grandmother said.

  “Alright,” Jack replied, a bit fed up with the talk.

  “I love you, Jackie,” his grandmother told him lovingly.

  “I love you, too, gra’ma,” Jack said.

  “Bye,” she said.

  “Bye.” He ended the call, and laid his phone on the bed. I sat up on my side, using my arm.

  “Say you love me,” I demanded.

  “I love you.” He smirked.

  “Say, ‘I love you, Katelyn Everland,’” I demanded.

  “I love you Katelyn…” he said, pausing.

  “Everland,” I prompted.

  “Fitzheigken…” he said. I rolled my eyes at him.

  “Say, ‘I love you, Hot Rod,’” I said.

  “I love you, Hot Rod,” Jack replied.

  “I love you…Jackie.” I giggled.

  “Shut up,” he said, getting out of the bed. I followed him out to the kitchen.

  “You talk to your grandmother? Or were you too busy?” Jack’s mother asked. I bowed my head. Jack looked over at me and then to his mother.

  “Ma, that’s not cool,” Jack said.

  “It was joke, Jackie,” she said.

  “It wasn’t funny,” Jack remarked. I went back into his room and sat down on his bed.

  I felt a little bit like a whore. Jack and I mostly had sex, a lot of sex. Feeling like a whore is how I felt a lot. And that was the feeling that brought the voices, the thoughts, the words. I didn’t want to feel that way. Jack’s mom had just made us breakfast.

  My lip quivered as I tried to get rid of the feelings. I gulped, trying to gain control. I just wanted to have control.

  “It was a joke. It was joke,” I repeated to myself as I tried to keep my hand away from my vagina and let the feeling pass.

  “Ma, why’d you have to do that?” Jack paused, “Shit…” He sat down at the kitchen table, distressed, with his hand to his forehead.

  “I don’t understand? What did I do?” Stephanie asked.

  “Ma,” Jack said, sitting up, talking with his hands, “I don’t know…some fucked up stuff happened to her. She can’t…I don’t know…that just wasn’t the right thing to say. She already thinks she looks like a fucking a whore.”

  “Looks like a whore?” Jack’s mom asked, confused.

  “Yeah, she thinks…” he paused. “Okay, imagine you being fifteen, and thirty-five-year-old motherfuckers are trying to fuck you. How would you think you look?”

  “Jack?” his mother asked, sitting down at the table and clutching the hand towel in disbelief. “She told you that?”

  I lay down. The door was closed. I couldn’t hear anything, but the words were starting to appear on my skin. I was dirty. I needed Jack. I continued to tell myself, “It was just joke.” I had to whisper it out loud.

  I couldn’t hold out any longer. I stuck my hands down my shorts to grab my vagina. I started to cry. I had no control.

  “She told me a lotta stuff, ma,” He shook his head, “I never shoulda let her go.”

  “You never should have let her go?” his mother scoffed. “Are you talking about back in Washington Heights?”

  “Yeah, I shoulda taken her somewhere else,” Jack stated.

  “Where were you gonna take her, Jack?” Stephanie asked, irritated.

  “Anywhere.” He shrugged.

  “Jackie, we were barely making it on our own. How did you think it was gonna work out?” Jack’s mother asked.

  “I don’t care. She wouldn’t be in there feeling like a slut if I would have been able to protect her,” he snapped, gesturing with his hand in the direction of his room.

  “Jack. That’s not your responsibility,” his mother said.

  “It is my responsibility!” he exclaimed.

  “You can’t even protect yourself. Are you even using protection? What if she gets pregnant? I mean, Jackie, she comes outta nowhere after three years. We don’t even know her anymore,” Stephanie said.

  “We? No, ma. I know her,” Jack said darkly.

  “I-I’m sorry. I know she loves you. But, I mean, Jackie. You don’t have a job. You hang around with those boys who get into shit…” she pointed out.

  “I have a job. You’re the one who doesn’t want me to do anything. You’re always talking about I don’t have a job or I’m not in school. But you don’t want me to. And I don’t do any of what those guys do,” Jack told her.

  “I want you to go school. Make something out of yourself. I don’t want you wasting your life. I work hard, so you can have a good life,” Stephanie said.

  “Ma. …the fuck? School is out. I’m not going back to school. To do what?” Jack asked.

  “You can get your diploma from the college. Take some classes,” Stephanie suggested.

  “In what? Chemistry?” Jack asked.

  “Jack that’s not funny.”

  “I know what I’m good at.”

  “But, Jackie, that’s not gonna be forever. And she’s a high main’tance gir…” she paused, “You think you can handle yourself around her, when you’re on that shit?”

  “You see, ma, you think you know her, but you don’t. When I didn’t even have fucking shoes to wear to school, she still wanted me,” Jack said proudly.

  “You were kids. You think she’d want you now if you were like that?” his mother asked.

  “Yeah, she would.”

  “No, she wouldn’t. And Jackie, that fast money is gonna run out,” his mother said.

  “Ma. It’s not fast money. It’s business.”

  “Jackie, you know we been through the ringer. I don’t wanna go through this shit again. You’re doing good. She’s got all kind’sa shit going on for her. You need to get something going for you,” she pointed out.

  “I’ve got something going for me,” Jack said, insulted. He gulped, taking his eyes from his mother.

  “Do you?” she asked.

  “Yeah, and don’t try to change the subject. This isn’t about me. This is about you saying stupid shit,” Jack said.

  “I was joking. You didn’t used to have a problem with it, Jackie,” his mother said.

  “You don’t know what happened to her,” Jack claimed.

  “I don’t know…” Jack’s mother agreed, trying to reason with him. “Jack… it’s not your responsibility.” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

  “It is my responsibility!” he roared once again, hitting the table with his fists. He got up and walked to his room. He opened the door to see me quietly sobbing in his bed, holding my crotch.

  “Hot Rod?” he asked softly, sitting on the bed next to me. “Baby…what happens to you?” He had asked me that so many times, and I didn’t have an answer. I don’t know what happened to make me the way I had become.

  “Jack…” I said, scooting closer to him. “I need you to…”

  “Fuck…” he replied sympathetically. “It’s hard for me to have sex with you
like this.”

  “Please…” I begged.

  “Baby, I’m gonna do it…I just… I feel like I’m making it worse.” He laid me on my back and took my shorts off. I jerked my body lightly in anticipation of having him inside of me.

  “You’re not,” I said as he filled me up. He watched me. I didn’t look at him, keeping eyes closed. I felt the cleansing upon my skin. Waiting for that orgasm was like waiting for heaven to open up, standing at the pearly gates, in awe, and then, boom…golden gates, paradise. He wasn’t even coming anymore.

  Sex. A connecting device that is meant to explore each other and become one. It wasn’t that anymore. Jack had taken on a great responsibility. Little did I know, so had I.

  Chapter Thirteen: Perfect

  “We” were an everyday thing. The times Jack spent outside with his buddies in those lawn chairs grew to be less and less. I didn’t feel like I lived with Becs anymore. I felt like Jack and I had our own little cottage in some middle-of-nowhere town.

  Jack was showering. It felt so good to fall asleep in his arms. I couldn’t wait for him to get back in bed with me. Sleeping with guys outside of having sex with them was something that I had never done. I had never wanted to do.

  Trey had come over to borrow something from Jack. I was laying in Jack’s bed in one of his shirts that was too big everywhere except for my boobage area. They were a little smooshed.

  I heard a knock at the front door.

  I got up out of the bed, padding through the house on my bare feet, and opened it.

  “Where Money?” Trey said, looking me over, “So you live here now?”

  “Do you live at Jiggs’s house?” I replied, rolling my eyes.

  “You right. You right.” He nodded.

  “He’s in the shower,” I said, walking out toward the living room. “The stuff’s over there.”

  Trey stepped into the house eyeing a brown bag folded down sitting on the living room table.

  “Alright, alright. Tell Money I said good looking out,” Trey told me, picking up the bag and heading back to the door. He prepared to the leave the house, and I followed him to close the door. Trey turned around to me as I leaned on the opened door.

  “Look man, Katie. I know you ain’t gone listen to me. So, just be careful,” Trey warned me.

  “Be careful?” I asked, rolling my eyes a little in annoyance.

  “Okay, like this is the calmest Money ever been. You seen him doing any shit?” he asked me.

  “Like?”

  “Like anything other than smoking weed?”

  “No…” I said, with the same annoyance. He nodded.

  “That’s a good thing. But it’s coming,” he warned me.

  “Jack is fine,” I insisted, folding my arms.

  “Jack…” he scoffed. “A’ight, I’m out.”

  “Bye brothee.” I smiled.

  “Bye.” He laughed. I closed the door behind him. I walked to the room, thinking about what Trey said. The shower was still running when I laid back down in the bed. What is Trey talking about? I can’t believe people still call him Money. The bathroom door opened and a thin, pale being emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist. I watched him go to his drawers and look for some underwear. He looked back at me.

  “Why you looking at me like that?” Jack asked.

  “No reason.” I smiled with a shrug. The towel dropped, revealing all his thinness and his non-erect, still large penis. I smiled.

  “That’s what you’re looking at?” Jack asked, pulling on his boxers.

  “How was I looking at it when it was covered with a towel?” I wanted to know, pursing my lips.

  “You was waiting.” He smiled, hopping into bed with me and throwing the grey and white city of covers over him. I lifted my side of the covers and slid my legs underneath. I looked up at him as he was switching the channels on the TV I hadn’t even known it was on.

  “What?” he asked, taking me into his arms and continuing to flip through the channels.

  “Nothing,” I said, shimmying closer to him, my hands on his pale chest. He could see that there was a question on my heart and on my tongue.

  “What is it?” he asked again, looking at me and putting the remote down, leaving the volume at a faint whisper if everything was quiet. I wiggled a little, uncomfortable.

  “Uhm…” I said, looking at him and looking away several times. “Trey said that you’re like calm now, not like before.”

  “Well yeah, I’m fucking calm. I haven’t had anything to smoke.” Jack smiled.

  “You smoke weed all the time,” I noted.

  “Weed ain’t shit,” he said. I thought for a moment, squinting.

  “What other stuff do you do?” I asked him. He pursed his thin lips.

  “Mm,” he sighed, “Oxy sometimes. Sometimes we put other shit in the weed; gets you real fucked up.” He thought again, “Nothing too major. And sometimes I do meth. But it’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s not?” I asked.

  “Nah, I just do it sometimes. To help me…” he said.

  “To help you what?” I asked.

  “Just to help me.” He shrugged. I watched him deliberately avoid my gaze; he was looking at the tv.

  “Why’d you start doing it?”

  “I dunno. I was at a party. It was lame…” He shrugged.

  “But it’s okay, right?” It just gets you high?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Incredibly high.” He smiled. I thought for another moment.

  “You like to be high?” I asked.

  “Fuck yeah,” he said, and then he looked at me, “Have you ever been high?”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “Okay, so just imagine, me making you come… but that feeling for like, twelve hours. Like non-stop. Like…orgasm after orgasm after orgasm…” he trailed off. I blushed.

  “I don’t know if I could deal with that.”

  “It’s too awesome, right?” He smiled.

  “Yeah…” I said, breathy.

  “Okay, so you know how you like to fuck yourself?” He grinned.

  “I don’t like to fuck myself,” I pointed out.

  “Well, then, you have to fuck yourself,” he said. That went through my skin. It winded me also. He was right. Either I was gonna fuck me, or he was gonna fuck me. Either way, I was getting fucked. I couldn’t look at him anymore. He had told a truth about me that I didn’t want to hear. That was the first time Jack had ever made me feel dirty. And it started, the words on my skin. They were from Jack, and nothing else mattered. “Fuck me, Jack” seemed to be written all over my skin.

  He could see it in my eyes. I panicked. I almost swallowed my tongue. My jaws were clamped shut. I was helpless. All I could do was think, don’t touch your vagina. But my mind didn’t listen to my thoughts. It betrayed me, and my hands were scaling my body as it tensed up. They headed straight to the “V” in the middle of me. I moaned, trying to fight it. Jack wasn’t supposed to make me feel like that.

  “What’d I do?” he asked, looking me over. He knew it was happening. “Fuck…” he said, rubbing his platinum hair, “I’m sorry.”

  Tears started to fall because I was helpless. I closed my eyes tightly. He moved in between my legs, hovering over me.

  “You want it?” he asked me.

  “No…” I whined. He sucked his teeth.

  “God, we’re so fucked up,” he said, lifting his shirt that I was wearing and moving my hands. I didn’t want him to do it cuz I wanted it so bad. I felt like maybe I could do without it. Maybe it would pass. But I felt like that a lot of times. And it never did.

  He didn’t stick it in right away. I wasn’t wet enough, but I didn’t want his mouth down there, I wanted his dick. His tongue touching all my sensitive parts seemed to go on forever.

  “Stop…Jack…” I whined. I’m not a whiner. You have no idea how this made me feel. To be helpless to this guy, to almost be someone else when this thing happened to me. When he sat up, he wa
s unbelievably hard.

  I could feel it against my leg.

  “Oh….” I moaned, just imagining an orgasm from Jack. He finally pushed it in. The feeling on impact gave me an amazingly eruptive orgasm.

  I just closed my eyes, mouth opened, nose wrinkled, eyes closed, breathing hard. I let the feeling rush through my body, washing away all that was once written on my skin. He could feel me throbbing on his dick.

  “Damn, already. I didn’t even get in all the way.” He laughed. I couldn’t even answer him as he let me finish. I finally opened my eyes and I was back. I smiled bashfully.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, looking up at him innocently.

  “Hot Rod, listen. I need to fuck you, too. Okay. We’re like majorly fucked up. We can’t even operate without each other,” Jack pointed out. We laughed for a moment and suddenly stopped as he looked at me longingly, and he started to thrust in me.

  “So, can I fuck you?” he asked me.

  “I can use another.” I smiled. He didn’t stop. He leaned into me and kissed me, hitting harder and harder. I don’t make random fucking noises when I’m being fucked. In fact, I don’t call Jack’s name unless he isn’t there, or it’s just way too good, and I can’t control the shit that comes out of my mouth. But I could have screamed. Like, how does my obvious debilitating insecurities get you off? I wondered.

  At first, I thought that maybe I wouldn’t have another orgasm because it kind of hurt. He was just so big, but it started to feel good as I began to relax into it. We had never really “fucked”, other than that one time when we were kids and just a few times had sex that wasn’t brought on by me shutting down.

  It wasn’t because he had to, it was because we both wanted to. Looking into his eyes, feeling him instead of me, his hands on my skin, the size of his penis, the strength of his hands, the touch of his lips against mine as we kissed. It all reminded me that sex was enjoyable, painful and exhilarating.

  He pulled out, flipping me over and onto my stomach. It pissed me off when he did it from the back because I couldn’t see him. It was nice though, to see him as a man. How he had matured in his care. To even know the difference between sixteen-year-old Jack and nineteen-year-old Jack was amazing. I moaned. He had done it. All of the ways that I thought it would be, were nothing. When it started to rise, I couldn’t not say his name. I cried out, and he banged me, hard.