White Trash Beautiful (7 page)

“Get up, you fucking bitch!”

The smell of whiskey and cigarettes filled my nose, replacing
the sweet smell of freedom. My hands flew to the back of my head as I struggled to pry Jackson’s fingers from my hair. “Jax, let go of me!” I struggled to get my footing as he lifted me from the bed by my hair.

“Where the fuck were you?” His eyes were glazed over and bloodshot.

I knew it was no good to fight with him. My mind searched for an excuse and his hand clenched tighter. “I went out with Marla, after work.” I strained to keep balanced on the balls of my feet. Jackson was a lot taller than I was.

“Marla?” He looked at me as if he didn’t believe me. Why would he? Marla and I fought constantly at work. I fought with everyone. It was hard to believe anyone would put up with me more than they had to.

“Where’d you go?” He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, but his grip loosened slightly.

I struggled to even out my breathing. “She took me into town. She had to go pick up her kid from his dad. I swear, Jax!”

He looked me over and seemed to believe me. His fingers slipped from my still-damp hair and I rubbed the tender spot. “I’m sorry, Cass.” He pulled me into his chest. I balled my fists against him and cried silently. I wanted to run away. Where would I go? I had nowhere, nothing. Jackson had been with me since the day we’d met. I knew the way he treated me wasn’t right, but at least he was always there. And he hadn’t always been this way. My father had left my mom and me when I was young. Jax offered me stability and the love I so desperately craved from someone. He also protected me from the parade of boyfriends my mother had in her life. During that unstable period, it seemed that he was always there when I needed him. He was the one person who knew all of my secrets and didn’t judge me for them. I cringed as I thought of how Tucker would react if I told him what my mother would do to make ends meet, or how her boyfriends would get touchy with me when she would pass out from taking drugs. Jax didn’t judge me then; he
never wavered. Not until he started using. How could I leave him now, when he needed me the most? The good guy that he once was, was still in there somewhere; I tried to remind myself of that every day. He just needed me to help him find his way back. Maybe he just needed me to help him fly.

I relaxed and let my arms slip around his sides. He had every right to hate me right now, even if he didn’t know the truth.

We slept in my bed with his arms wrapped tightly around me. I felt as if I couldn’t breathe in his embrace. What had I done? I had run off with a guy who saw me as some sort of project. Maybe it was pity I saw in his eyes, not the sense of longing that surely reflected in mine. This was where I belonged. In this trailer, in Jax’s arms. My fate had already been written, and some guy on a motorcycle was not going to swoop in and rescue me. This wasn’t a fairy tale. This was my life. No matter how much I fucking hated it, it was of my own creation, and it was mine.

The next morning I awoke to a steady thumping of a headache. The back of my head was sore and throbbing with a constant dull, aching reminder of how I’d lied to Jax. I couldn’t tell him the truth, of course. I couldn’t afford the hospital visit.

I slipped out of his grip and made my way down to the small bathroom. I tried the handle but it was locked.

“Mom!” I banged on the door with the palm of my hand. “Mom! Open the fucking door. Some of us have jobs we gotta get to.” I waited, my arms crossed over my chest. Nothing. “Damn it,” I screamed, and kicked the door. I slipped back into my room and grabbed a clean uniform for work. I was on my last one and would need to make a trip to the Laundromat soon.

I avoided that place as much as possible. There was nothing safe about the Laundromat. All the tweakers in the neighborhood hung out there to buy or sell dope. A few weeks back, Deb from three trailers down was jumped and nearly raped. The thought made my stomach twist in knots.

I looked over at Jax, who was still sound asleep. I slid my closet
open and moved the boxes around until my fingers touched the silky-soft fabric of my new dress. I couldn’t help but smile. One day my closet would be full of pretty dresses like this. I just needed to work a little harder. I carefully buried it again and stood to leave my room, stopping to rub my teddy bear, which secretly held my dreams inside it.

I made my way to the kitchen to find something, anything, to eat. The top shelf of the fridge held mustard and mayonnaise. The next two shelves were empty. I closed it. “Fuck,” I whispered, rubbing my hands over my face.

My mother made her way down the hall, tripping and kicking the bucket that held the dirty water from our leaky roof.

“Jesus, Mom! Look what you did!” My tone turned sympathetic when I saw her face, so sad and defeated. “I’ll get a towel.” I patted her on the arm and squeezed past her to the bathroom.

A needle lay on the sink next to some yellowish rubber tubing that I recognized right away. I grabbed it in my hand and went after her.

“Damn it, Mom! Damn you! You promised you would stop! You promised!” Tears poured down my face as I threw the flimsy rubber tubing at her.

She flinched as if I were throwing a punch and rested her weight against the wood paneling behind her. “I’m sorry,” she slurred.

Memories of my childhood flooded my thoughts.

“I want to look like a princess!” I was excited.

“Hold still, Cassie. Mommy can’t braid your hair if you keep squirming like a worm in your seat!”

I giggled as Daddy walked in through the front door. “Daddy!” I jumped from the chair, steadying my balance before running into my father’s open arms. “Mommy is my fairy godmother and she’s going to make me look like a princess!”

Mom laughed from behind me as my father set me back on the floor, groaning as he stretched his aching back from a long day of work at
Richardson Automotive. He rubbed my head, messing up my freshly braided hair. “That’s nice, Cassie.” He made his way to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. He took a long sip and leaned back against the counter.

“You get any housework done today or you too busy playing hairdresser?” he asked my mother coldly as he took another drink.

She smiled down at me, smoothing my hair down. “I can make a good career out of hairdressin’. Women love to feel beautiful.”

“Most women love to take care of their husbands.” He pushed from the counter and stepped in front of my mother, grabbing her arm in his free hand. She pulled back slightly, wincing at the pain. “Jessie said he saw you over at the grocery store talking to Robbie. You out sluttin’ around on me while I’m working hard to put food on the table?”

“Robbie has just been wondering why he hasn’t seen us at church.”

“Everyone knows what you’ve been doin’. You have no business talking to another man. You’re mine, remember? Or do I need to remind you again?”

“Why don’t you go find your prettiest princess dress while Mommy cooks up a feast?” She bent down to eye level with me. I giggled nervously, sensing that something had made my father upset, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before running down the hallway to my bedroom to find my finest dress.

“I’m sorry,” I heard her quietly sob as her words faded away, echoing in my memory.

I suddenly felt sick. That look in her eye, that defeat that I remembered so clearly, suddenly became all too familiar. It was the same look I saw in the mirror every day.

I
BOLTED OUT THE
front door. I couldn’t get to work fast enough. I rubbed the tears from my cheeks as I ran, my lungs burning. I stopped dead in my tracks as I reached the edge of the dirt lot.

Tucker sat sideways leaning against his bike. I stopped, suddenly angry and unable to form any words. I was overwhelmed by the realization that I was reliving my mother’s life, following in the footsteps of her volatile relationship. I had become her without even realizing it. One thing I had learned from my mother’s mistakes was that I had no business talking to Tucker. I didn’t need Jax to remind me to whom I belonged. My feet began to move double time now. Tucker stood and waited for me to reach him. I pushed past his shoulder and headed for the diner.

“What’s wrong?” He jogged to catch up to me.

“Just go home, Tucker.” I wiped my eyes again.

“Hey.” He grabbed my arm gently and I flinched as he made contact with the bruises. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Did he hurt you again? Cass, tell me if he hurt you. I will go take care of him right now. He won’t ever touch you again.”

I stopped and took a minute to find my voice. “You hurt me.
You do.” I poked him in the chest. “Why are you here? Is this fun for you, waltzing into my train wreck of a life and playing the hero?” I threw my hands up dramatically. “You like to see girls cryin’ and getting knocked around?” I didn’t like the idea of being someone’s guest of honor at a pity party. Looking at Tucker only reminded me of everything in the world I wasn’t privileged enough to have, a reminder I didn’t need.

He looked at me as if I had lost my mind. I felt as if I had.

“No . . . Why would you say that, Cass? Of course I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help you.” He reached for me but I put my hands up to keep him back.

“You’re not a knight on a white horse who can whisk me away to fairyland and save me, Tucker. You’re just some prick on a motorcycle who’ll disappear as quickly as he came. My life isn’t your problem.” I swallowed hard as I prepared for a low blow. “I’m not your mom.”

He flinched at my words. He threw up his hands in defeat, dropping a small piece of paper onto the ground.

“Have it your way, sweetheart.” He walked back to his bike and turned to face me, “I’m only walking away because it’s what you want. I’d never do anything you didn’t want, Cass. I don’t want to hurt you, and if that’s what I’m doing right now, then I will gladly leave you alone.” He turned away from me and straddled his motorcycle, starting it angrily. It roared to life and he took off, leaving me in a cloud of dirt, confusion, and sadness.

“Just fucking great,” I mumbled as I kicked a pile of gravel and picked up the small stub of paper. The front read Damaged. It was a concert ticket for tonight in Savannah. Could this day get any worse? I shoved it in my apron and forced myself to forget Tucker ever rode into this town. He would be gone before I knew it anyway.

“Hey, Larry,” I yelled as I made my way into the diner. Larry looked out the kitchen window at me and gave me a nod. I cranked the radio and began rolling the silverware. We didn’t have any customers yet . . . at least none I hadn’t run off.

I sang along as I rushed through my busywork. A few minutes later, Larry appeared with two hot plates full of eggs and toast.

“Thanks,” I said, giving him a smile. He nodded but didn’t smile back.

I devoured every bite.

“Jesus, Cass. You ain’t knocked up now, are ya?” He laughed, but I knew he was seriously asking.

“Fuck, Larry. No. I’m not pregnant. You have to actually have sex to get knocked up.” I rolled my eyes and popped the last bite of toast in my mouth. I couldn’t remember the last time Jax and I had been together, and I was thankful for that. I no longer had a say in the matter, and the only thing that saved me was his ramped-up drug abuse.

“Why are you still with that worthless boyfriend of yours? He ain’t no good.”

As if Larry were telling me something I didn’t know. But it wasn’t any of his business. I shrugged and grabbed both of our plates and took them to the kitchen. I washed them up quickly and set them on the drying rack.

It wouldn’t be long before people started rolling in for coffee. The bell above the door chimed, and I threw the old dishrag onto the sink and made my way back out onto the floor.

A woman sat in a booth with her son. I didn’t recognize them. More people who took the wrong exit off the highway. I plastered on my biggest fake smile and grabbed a couple of menus. We didn’t have kid menus, but I had made it a point to pick up a couple of coloring books and packs of crayons from the dollar store. It made the kids happy and less likely to make a mess.

“Good morning and welcome to Aggie’s Diner. My name is Cass and I’ll be your server today. Can I start you off with something to drink?” I gave the boy a wink and handed him the crayons. His face lit up. He looked to be about five years old. I remembered how great life was at that age, so full of promise. It goes downhill quickly.

“I’ll have an orange juice and chocolate milk for him.” She didn’t even look at me. This was going to be a great day.

I rolled my eyes as I headed off to the kitchen to get their drinks. The bell above the door went off repeatedly before I could take the beverages out to my customers. I stuck my head out of the kitchen door and my jaw went slack. The diner was filling up. I glanced back at Larry, who shrugged his shoulders.

I grabbed the glasses and took them out to my table. I got their order and moved on to the next table. The diner was never this busy on a weekday. The diner was never this busy period.

We called in Marla about an hour later just to help deal with the crowd. She was the definition of white trash, and we didn’t get along well. Her hair was a crispy, frizzy bleach blond with dark roots; her skin was tanned orange and looked like leather. We split the diner into sections. Most of our guests were twentysomething. I hardly had the patience to deal with this obnoxiously loud crowd. If I ever needed more proof that the universe viewed me as some sort of cosmic joke, the message was received loud and clear.

As I was clearing off a table, I overheard the girls beside me talking about the Damaged concert tonight. That explained why we had such a crazy crowd today. I slipped my hand into my apron pocket, feeling the ticket that Tucker had dropped on the ground earlier.

“I know, third row center. Tucker White will be practically right in front of us,” a girl gushed.

That stopped me cold. I moved over to their table and asked if they needed any refills on their drinks.