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I Like Dirt (Jack. Book 2)

Page 24

by Laine Watson


  “Hot Rod!” he yelled, like he was aggravated, like maybe he had been calling me for a while. He stormed into the house.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked, pulling me up from the sofa. His eyes were red, and he looked completely out of it. “You don’t hear me talking to you?”

  “I’m sorry…I…I didn’t…” I couldn’t finish talking.

  He tossed me into the door. I didn’t know it was coming, so I didn’t shield my face, and my nose hit right on the metal window seal. I don’t even think he realized he did it. I think he was just trying to lead me out of the trailer.

  “Shit!” Drew said from outside in the yard.

  “Jack…” I said, holding my nose. It wasn’t bleeding, but I don’t think he knew he did it.

  “What?” he asked, looking at me as if I wasn’t in pain and holding my nose. He slipped past me and opened the door, grabbing me by the hand and outside and dragged me down the steps. When I stumbled, he pushed me down a little, and the cement scraped my legs.

  “Jack, stop,” I said, trying to free my hand. He wouldn’t let it go.

  “Stop what?” he asked, pulling me closer to him. Drew watched with a grimacing face.

  What could Drew say? Jack was completely oblivious to everything. And he was about to do what? Try to drive? Try to take us home? That wasn’t even crossing my mind.

  Jack pushed me in the car. He got in and sped off.

  I watched him as he drove. Jack was drooling, and he didn’t seem alert. I kept looking at him and then away again as we sped through traffic.

  “Jack, I don’t think you should be driving,” I said.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he mumbled without even looking at me.

  I don’t know how we made it back to his house. I thought we were going to die. I was more than just scared. I was terrified.

  I told myself that I was just going to get into my car and go home. I wasn’t going back into the house. I didn’t know this Jack. I didn’t want to know this Jack.

  I got out of his car, and I walked to my car.

  “What are you doing?” Jack asked with slurred words. He had bloodshot, lazy eyes and imbalanced posture. He was shooting fidgety looks to the right and left of him.

  “I’m going home,” I said as casually as I could, looking for my keys in Jack’s jacket.

  “Hot Rod…Why? This is your fucking home,” he laughed, and walked toward me. “Why do you like to play these STUPID ass games?” Jack asked, pushing me into the side of my car by my wrist. He twisted it, hard.

  I was quiet and tried to take the pain, but my mouth wouldn’t close.

  “Get…your ass…in the house,” he said strongly through his teeth.

  I gulped.

  “Jack, let go’a me,” I begged. He seemed to be so disgusted with me.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked.

  “Yes…” I said.

  He didn’t let go of my wrist. He held it as he walked me into the house by my wrist. I wanted to cry but, I knew he wasn’t him. But I didn’t know how to get Jack back. We walked through the living room and the hallway and into his room. I wanted his mom to be in the kitchen, but she wasn’t. He shoved me on his bed, and went into the bathroom and slammed the door.

  I sat on the bed and looked at my body, the scrapes on my legs, the bruises on my arms, the ones on my thighs from the night stand. I looked at my wrists. They were red. I sighed. I got up and looked in the mirror, around my nose was red, too, and one of my nostrils was swollen. And I wasn’t even sure Jack knew any of this stuff had happened. I was scared of him, what he was. I couldn’t see my Jack. I didn’t know what to do. So, I sat down on the bed. I said to myself,

  As soon as I can, I’m leaving.

  Chapter Nineteen: Pocket Knife

  It was well past midnight, and long before, I had made a promise to myself. Jack was sleeping soundly. Staying out of his way that day seemed to be the best option. He never did come around. He stayed disgusted with me. Maybe that was best. I didn’t try to leave while he was awake. He had been asleep for about five hours, while I had lain there in his bed quietly, scooting away from him, far enough that I could get out the bed without disturbing him.

  My keys were in his jacket still. I crept out of the bed and grabbed his jacket off of the dresser heading toward the door. He turned over. It frightened me. I dropped the jacket.

  “What are you doing?” he asked in a sleepy, sexy voice.

  “Nothing…” I said, masking the fear that was in me.

  “Baby, you haven’t talked to me all day,” he mumbled, so sexy, like he longed for me. I walked slowly over to the bed as he opened his eyes.

  “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me,” I replied, sitting on the bed, “And Jack…” I gulped. “Look at me, my nose is swollen, and I’ve got bruises all over me.” I sighed.

  He sat up. I guess he slept off most of his high. I gulped again. Jacked turned on the lamp on the nightstand on his side of the bed. My lamp was still broken, hanging half on the nightstand, and half on the floor.

  “Oh shit. How’d that happen?” Jack asked sincerely.

  “Jack?” I said, confused. He really didn’t know. “Jack, you pushed me off the bed, into the night stand, and then you dragged me down the steps at Drew’s, and then you basically handcuffed me with your hands when we got home.”

  “What?” he asked, looking down with rapid eye movements, trying to remember. “We went to Drew’s? That shit’s not from fucking?” Jack asked.

  I sighed heavily in disbelief, “Jack?!”

  “Shit!” he hissed, looking to the side of him. He thought of something, and I wish I knew what it was.

  “Hot Rod,” Jack said, “I didn’t mean to do that shit to you.” He looked at me. “Damn,” he laughed. “You’re so cute with your little swollen nose.”

  I even started to smile. Jack never said things like that. He touched me on my leg and dragged his hand across my thigh, looking up at me with those glossy brilliant blue eyes.

  “Babe, I’m sorry,” he said quietly and sincerely. I sighed. I was torn. Jack didn’t talk like that. It felt so good to hear him say things like that.

  “Jack,” I said, “I know you don’t mean to hurt me, but when you’re not yourself, you do.”

  “When I’m not myself?” he asked.

  “Jack, I don’t even know when it’s okay to talk to you,” I admitted.

  “What?” he said, moving me closer to him. Who was he? “You can talk to me whenever. It’s me.” He glanced at me. He looked me over. “I did all this?”

  “Mh-huh.” I nodded, “When we were at Drew’s.”

  “When?” he asked.

  “When?” I grimaced. “Uhm, like yesterday. I wanted to go home, just cuz, you know, I haven’t been home. And you like got super mad and then at Drew’s, like, you weren’t even looking at me. You were just…” I sighed.

  He seemed like he legitimately didn’t remember.

  “I don’t remember going to Drew’s yesterday,” he said. My eyes were rapidly moving, and my feelings were just as scattered.

  “Jack,” I mouthed. “I…” But nothing came out at first. I tried again. “I-I don’t like it when you do that stuff. Cuz…” I sighed and swallowed. I scrambled to get it out, “I-I-I don’t…know you.”

  “I only do it when I’m stressed out,” he said.

  “Jack, why are you stressed out? Am I stressing you out?” I asked.

  “No…no,” he said. “It’s just a lotta shit, you know?” I nodded. He looked at his phone that was on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

  “Com’on, what’re you doing? It’s like, five AM. I’m tired. Can we talk about this in the morning, please?” he asked.

  I nodded. I was happy to crawl back into bed with Jack. With the actual Jack. The Jack I loved. And I did. Jack twisted the lamp off, and I snuggled up to him. We laid down.

  “Jack, can you stop, though?” I asked.

  “Stop�
��” he asked.

  “Stop doing that stuff.”

  “I mean, yeah. It’s not a big deal. I don’t have to do it. Is that gonna make things better?” he asked.

  “Yeah…” I admitted, “I think so.”

  “Then I won’t do it,” he said. I took his word. That was all I needed. Jack and I fell asleep.

  It was about noon when we decided to open our eyes. I could hear music playing from the kitchen.

  “Shit…” Jack smiled, opening his eyes as he lay next to me. “I feel like crap.” He laughed. I was happy to hear his voice. I smiled.

  “Me, too.” I leaned my head on to his boney chest. I smiled down at him with my hair all over my head.

  “Well, at least your nose went down.” He smiled. I grinned back. Jack turned over and opened the one drawer he had on his nightstand. He pulled out a bag of white crystals and a pipe. His lighter was where it always was, along with his shotgun, and the pocket knife that his mother gave him on the surface of the nightstand. He set everything down next to the half-filled bottle of water.

  I studied him for a moment. I wondered what he was about to do with that stuff. Throw it away? He sat up and started to pour the crystals into the pipe.

  “I thought you said you were gonna stop,” I said, looking over his shoulder. He sniffled. He looked back at me.

  “Yeah, yeah…I just feel like shit. I’m just…you know?” he shrugged. I didn’t want to go through what I had gone through for the last two weeks. It was getting worse.

  “Yeah…” I shrugged back, “W-what are we gonna do today?” I asked as normal as possible.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen Trey in a while,” he said, looking back at me.

  “Yeah,” I nodded, “I’m gonna go get some clothes.” I said, looking from behind at him to see his response.

  “Okay…” he nodded. “Call me when you’re headed back. I’mma hit up Trey, see what they up to.” I rolled my eyes because he was a homeboy again.

  “Cool.” I smiled. I grabbed his jacket and threw it on. I walked around to him and kissed him. I didn’t feel as grossed out.

  We didn’t say I love you a lot. We didn’t always show affection to each other, and half of the time, I didn’t know what was going on. But he was my world. I passed through the kitchen, Stephanie was in there. I was so glad that I decided to wear Jack’s jacket, so she wouldn’t see my arms. But I had forgotten about the scrapes and few bruises on my legs and my nose still being red.

  “Good afternoon.” She smiled, “I made you guys some lunch.”

  “Oh…” I said, heading toward the living room. “I’m kinda in a hurry.” She squinted her eyes at me and turned around.

  “Katie…” she said, placing the spatula on the counter and walking over to me. She looked me over. She didn’t seem to notice anything different.

  “You okay?” she asked me.

  “Yeah.” I smiled awkwardly. She looked at me endearingly.

  “Is Jackie okay?” she asked. My eyes did that weird, inadvertent looking around revealing my uncomfortableness.

  “Uhm,” I sighed quickly, “Y-Yeah.” I shrugged unbelievably. Maybe she wanted to believe, and all she needed was for me to say yes.

  “Good.” She smiled.

  There was an awkward moment, one that seemed would precede a question. But I interjected quickly.

  “Well, I gotta go.” I gulped, “I’ll be back,” I said awkwardly. “Bye.” I almost smiled.

  I left the kitchen quickly and went out of the front door, not even waiting for her to reply.

  No one was standing outside when I came out to the porch. I got in my car and drove home. I hadn’t been home in a very long time. I hated that place. But I had to get away from Jack. I thought I would just let him get out whatever he needed to. I missed Becs a little. I hated her a little, but I still missed her. I missed Bianca, too, but the last place I was going was near her. I didn’t want to hear her say ‘I told you so.’

  I pulled up to the house. It seemed like I didn’t even live there anymore. I was paying rent to basically say I had a place to live. I sat in the car for a while. I called Trey.

  “Wha’dup?” Trey said, answering the phone.

  “Hey brothee,” I said, trying to sound regular.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

  “What you doing?”

  “Nu’in. In the Benz, running some errands for Jiggs’s momma.”

  “She letting you drive her car…Cougar!” I laughed.

  “Man shut up, I’on even care. She let me get the car all the time. She ain’t stingy like you,” Trey said.

  “I’m also not trying to sleep with you, who is half my age.” I laughed.

  “She could get it, she let me keep pushing the whip.” Trey laughed.

  “You trifflin’.” I sighed, “Alright, I was just seeing what you were doing. I’ll talk to you…”

  “You a’ight, Katie?” Trey asked, concern in his voice.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.” I laughed hollowly.

  “Oh, alright.” Trey paused. “Where Money?”

  “He’s at the house. We just woke up.” I smiled. Trey seemed to know there was an undertone, though maybe he couldn’t identify it, and he didn’t want to overstep he bounds.

  “A’ight then, Katie. Hit me up later,” Trey said.

  “Alright, bye brothee.” I smiled.

  “Bye…” he replied, ending the call. I sighed. I wanted to say something, but what could I say without ruining everything?

  I walked in the house. The house looked empty. I went down to my room. The pinkness of everything made me want to puke. I sighed as I sat down on my bed.

  I had some things to think about.

  “Jack…” I sighed. I was thinking about when we were kids, how much he had changed, but not changed. How beautiful he’d always been to me. How his hair had changed from platinum to strawberry blond and he had died it blond again. And how even though things were bad, they were better with him than without. I looked to the left of me to find my guitar, something I hadn’t had for a while because all I had was Jack, and that was fine, until it wasn’t. Right then, I needed to sing something. I wasn’t sure what was in my heart. Jack had always hurt me, but he also had always made me feel better than anyone else had.

  I sighed again as I placed the guitar across my lap. As I strummed it, it sounded horrible. I had to tune it, so I took my time, thinking about what I was going to write as I tuned it. Who Jack had been to me was the giver of feeling, actually. Everything had been numb in me except for the parts that he touched. But he was starting to be more.

  At that moment, all I could think of was his obsessions. He was obsessed with guns, he was obsessed with weed, he was obsessed with this seemingly beautiful sugary snow, and maybe other things, too and me. I had never seen him use anything to light a cigarette, or blunt, or joint or anything else, except his skeleton lighter. I wondered how important all those things were to Jack, and exactly where I fell in the midst of those things. I started crying I sniffed, tears falling down my face as I played guitar. I just played, and it felt beautiful. I don’t know what it was, maybe it was just my musical expression for Jack. That’s how it felt, like it was in my bones, around me, it made my senses tingle.

  Just the feelings he gave me, hearing his voice in my mind, feeling his hands on my skin, when he wasn’t there. I shivered. I gulped. And let it take over. It seemed like the words just flowed.

  The devil is your father, or so you say choking back the smoke,

  With a smile on your face. And sadness in the background

  You always looked so cool to me.

  I wanna be…everything you need.

  I know they say, I shouldn’t love you.

  I know they say, I shouldn’t love you.

  But I do…you.

  You and your guns, you and your pocket knife.

  You and your drugs you and you’re doing lines.

  I’m fine…I’m fine…so
meday I’ll be the only addition you need.

  Can you even remember, what it feels like to have my heart?

  Am I the one thing that you won’t rip apart?

  Sometimes I feel like, you can’t see me,

  All you see is what you believe.

  I know they say, I shouldn’t love you.

  I know they say, I shouldn’t love you.

  But I do…you.

  You and your guns, you and your pocket knife.

  You and your drugs you and you’re doing lines

  I’m fine…I’m fine…someday I’ll be the only addition you need.

  Someday I’ll be the only addiction you need.

  Someday I’ll be…

  I started to cry again, unable to finish the song. I don’t think I understood how much truth there was in that song. It was everything I wanted in life. I couldn’t even sing it…

  “I’m the only addiction you need.” I whispered.

  I had to put the guitar down, I had become too full up of Jack.

  I went upstairs, trying to forget that I had given myself this orgasmic feeling without Jack even being there, and fighting within myself to not go back and get him to give me an equally body-numbing orgasm right then. I didn’t know who I would be returning to. So, I just looked for Becs.

  “Hello?” I called, walking down the hall to Becs’s room. The door was open and nobody was in there, just a messy bed. I looked on the right side of the hall to find that Crystal’s room was empty, nothing in it but a few hangers on the hardwood floor.

  I sighed and went back down to my room. I still felt a little emotional. I turned to my guitar again. My shoulders dropped. I walked over to pick it up. I sat on my bed with my legs crossed and sighed once more. I started to strum, and at first, I couldn’t feel any song in me. Maybe my voice was gone, maybe I couldn’t feel anything. Maybe I had sung everything I could about Jack that day. That was just a thought. I put my guitar down. I turned on some music and hoped that the universe gave me what I needed at that moment, and it did.

  A little acoustic guitar can heal every wound.

  And whatever I thought I couldn’t handle with Jack went away, and as the music spilled through my veins and cradled me, I was ready to sing along with Avril as she sang “Tomorrow.” Her song seemed to tell exactly how I felt right then. Like, I just can’t do this today. Tomorrow, let’s try again.

 

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