White Trash Beautiful

I stirred my food as I watched Jax sleep. My heart broke again as I thought about my dishonesty. He wasn’t always so . . . mean. When he and I first met, it was in the ninth grade. My family had never had money, and my clothes came from thrift stores and church donations. I was incredibly self-conscious, knowing that my worn sweaters stood out from my peers’ tight jeans and trendy tops that revealed just enough midriff to catch the boys’ eyes. I just focused on staying under the radar, but trying to keep to myself only made me a prime target for bullies. One day in class my art teacher handed out a list of supplies for a project. When she reached my desk, she patted my shoulder and let me know, in a loud whisper, that she would help me get the items on my list if I couldn’t afford them. The room suddenly buzzed with snickers, with one of my classmates muttering, “There’s like five bucks’ worth of stuff on this list. Seriously, Cass?” I just put my head down.

After the class ended and I slunk to my locker, a boy named Brandon came up behind me and knocked my books out of my hand as everyone stood around laughing. He told me not to worry, that Ms. Jenkins would pick them up for me since I was her favorite charity case. Jax came up behind him, shoving him hard across the hall. Brandon’s head cracked off the white subway tiles that lined the corridor. Everyone fell silent. Jax grabbed my books and handed them back to me, apologizing for Brandon as his eyes scanned the crowd, daring someone else to say something. It was the first time anyone had stood up for me. Jax and I had never spoken before that day. He was popular and handsome, even though his family was every bit as poor as mine. The girls seemed to fall all over themselves in his presence, and it was easy to see why. His eyes were a bright and vibrant green, his hair was cut short, and he looked amazing in anything he wore, even if it was a hand-me-down or thrift-store find. But the sexiest thing about him was his confidence, his I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude.

We were inseparable after that moment. He taught me how to fish, and I taught him how to get free snacks from the vending machine at the mall. He stood up to the many men my mother brought into the house, even once punching one in the nose for trying to cop a feel. I used to joke that he was my knight in shining armor. I truly believed he was sent by some higher power to protect me, just like in the Disney movies I used to watch as kid. I didn’t realize that I would eventually need to be protected from him.

When his mother developed a cocaine habit, he began staying over more and more. My mother didn’t care. She was thankful to have a man helping out around the house again. She took me to get put on the pill at sixteen. Having one child was too much responsibility for her, and she certainly couldn’t handle a grandchild. We were barely scraping by, but she was still optimistic that things would work out for us.

Eventually, Jackson stopped leaving altogether and became a permanent fixture in our home, a two-story row house on the outskirts of Savannah. My father had left us just before my seventh birthday, with only the clothes on his back. My mother left his belongings strewn about the place as if he had just stepped out for coffee. Jackson and I were joined at the hip. My mother made him sleep on the couch, but I would sneak out of my room at night just to lie by his side whenever I would have a nightmare. He would hold me, stroking my hair until I would drift back to sleep. Some nights, I would sneak out just to be in his arms. My heart would race just from his holding me, but like many things, it soon wasn’t enough. Our cuddle sessions became make-out sessions in which he taught me how to kiss like the women on television. Jax was much more experienced in life than I was, and that included sexually.

When I became sick with the flu over my seventeenth birthday, he took care of me, missing school for a week to make sure I was okay. He even took me to an urgent-care clinic to get medicine, reassuring me that he would pay for it. When I finally began to feel better, I decided to let him know just how much he meant to me.

“You don’t have to do this.” Jax smiled devilishly as his fingers traced the waistband of my jeans, leaving my skin on fire in their wake. He had been begging me to sleep with him since we began dating.

“I want to.” My voice cracked.

He laughed, his eyes lowering so he could take in my body before they met my gaze. His tongue shot out and ran over his lower lip. “You are so f**king hot.”

His words were like lighting a fuse. I pressed my lips hard against his, pushing my body into him. He groaned as his hands found my hips, gripping them tightly as he struggled not to move too quickly. My lips moved against his just the way he had taught me, causing him to groan into my mouth.

“Cass, I need to know if you’re serious. I won’t be able to stop after much longer.”

I tried my best to look confident as I trailed my hand down his stomach and over the bulge of his jeans. That was all the answer he needed.

I don’t know if I ever truly knew what love was, but I knew that Jackson would be there for me. That was all I needed in that moment, and all I thought I would ever need until I met Tucker: the security of knowing Jackson would always be there for me.

But then bills began to pile up and Jackson worked two jobs to try to keep us afloat. He washed dishes at a chain restaurant in town and also fixed cars. He was a great handyman. Unfortunately, his little beat-up car had broken down for good, and he no longer had a way to get to work. My mother styled hair out of our living room, but few people we knew could afford to get their hair done. I worked bagging groceries at the local Piggly Wiggly, but people rarely tipped and it wasn’t enough to make a dent in our bills. We needed to make a change if we wanted to keep ourselves above water.

Jackson found us this trailer and got us a good deal on the rent. I started working at the diner and was able to make just enough to keep a roof over our heads. A leaky roof, but shelter nonetheless. We both dropped out of high school in order to get more hours on the job. College was never an option, and it no longer made sense to spend eight hours a day in classes. Shortly after we settled into our new home, Jax began to run with the locals. He took up selling drugs as a way to help support us. I hated the idea, but the money was better than from any other job we could find locally. Eventually, he gave in to temptation and began to use himself, burning up any profit he made.

My mother always hid her feelings in a bottle of alcohol or pills. She soon became Jax’s partner in crime. Life didn’t change overnight. I think that is why I didn’t protest against it sooner. Everyone was looking for an escape from reality. I couldn’t blame them. Getting high occasionally didn’t seem like such a bad thing. Unfortunately, getting high in the evening soon became using first thing in the morning. Jax grew distant, finding his companionship in a pipe instead of with me. Soon we barely spoke, and when we did, we would usually argue. It took three solid months until drug abuse became physical abuse. By then I was already in too deep.

I stood in the doorway, pleading with him not to buy more drugs. I knew he was getting angry and was not in his right mind, but I stood in his way.

“Please don’t do this anymore, Jax.” I braced myself in the doorframe as he inched closer, sweat coating his skin.

“Baby, I just need to catch a buzz.” He ran his hands over his face, clearly frustrated.

“You need to get clean. I can help you.”

“I don’t need your f**king help, Cass. I’m not a f**king kid.” His eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Of course not, babe. I just want things to be like they used to be.” I reached out to touch his face and he knocked my hand away with such force that I lost my footing and fell out of the doorway and onto the ground. My elbows bled after colliding with the stones below.

Jax was over me in a flash, panic in his eyes. “Fuck, Cass. Are you okay? Why do you have to keep pushing my goddamn buttons all the time. Look what you did!” He pulled me against his chest, hugging me for the first time in weeks.

I reluctantly looped my arms around his waist. It was the touch I had been craving from him. I needed that from him, from someone. “I’m sorry,” I whispered into his shirt. I didn’t believe he meant to hurt me. I was standing too close to the ledge. I justified it as an accident and was able to look past it.

I took a small bite of my food as Jax stirred.

“That smells good,” he mumbled as he rolled over onto his side. He had removed most of his clothes last night and was only wearing a pair of dark gray boxers. The air conditioner hadn’t worked since the first month we moved in, and it tended to get unbearably warm. His chest was covered in tattoos, though the designs were not nearly as beautiful and intricate as the ones on Tucker’s skin, I now realized. I ducked my head, embarrassed that I was thinking of him while looking at Jax.

I had lost my appetite. “Here, take mine. I’m not really that hungry.” I stood and walked toward him, holding out the bowl.

“Thanks, babe.” He took the bowl and gave me a smile. I smiled back at him and turned to the kitchen to get my coffee.

“You want some?” I grabbed a mug from the counter and paused.

“Sure,” he called to me, and I flipped over another mug.

As I poured the coffee, Jax snuck up behind me and slipped his hand around my waist. My body stiffened.

“Yeah, I want some,” he breathed into my ear.

“Not now, Jax.” I shoved him back with my hips and picked up our mugs. I turned to face him and handed him one.

“Jeez, what the f**k? You used to like it.” His eyes combed over my body. I moved my free hand over my chest. I’d never said it out loud, but I’d never cared for sex with Jax once he began using. I knew it was what I had to do to keep him happy, and that was a good enough reason for me to continue. But it didn’t take long before he was never happy no matter what went on in the bedroom. Over the last few years, his touch had become synonymous with nothing but pain.

The front door banged against the wall as Jax entered. I rolled over to look at my alarm clock to see it was already after three in the morning. He yelled my name as he stumbled down the hall, falling through the doorway to the bedroom. His fingers fumbled with his belt as he grinned at me wickedly.

“Not now, Jax.” I groaned, pulling the pillow over my head.

He stumbled forward as he undid his button and fly, shoving his jeans over his hips. “What do you mean not now? I just scored us enough money to cover the rent and I don’t deserve anything for it?”

I lifted the pillow from my face as I felt the bed sink down as he crawled over me.

“You’re just going to spend it on getting high anyway,” I snapped, wishing I could get just a few more hours of sleep before my shift.

His face contorted in anger as my words sank through the fog of his high. His hand came down sharply across my cheek, causing me to scream out in shock. Waves of pain radiated through my face as I struggled to push him off my body. Even high, he was twice as strong as I was. That was the day Jax stopped asking for what he wanted and decided that he could just take it from me. That was also the day I stopped living and began surviving.

“I have to get to work.” I walked past him and made my way to my bedroom. He followed me, perching against the doorframe.

I slid off my pajama bottoms and pulled my tank over my head, keeping my back to him.

“I know I have been a f**king prick lately.”

I nodded but didn’t turn to face him. I grabbed my uniform from last night and pulled it on quickly, sitting on the edge of my bed to tie my sneakers. I felt sick. Suddenly he wanted to be nice, now that I was thinking of someone else? I pushed past him to leave. He grabbed my arm and I flinched.

His hand slipped off me and he grimaced. “I’m not going to hurt you, Cass.” He looked down at his feet.

“I know,” I said softly. “I have to get to work.” I turned and made my way down the hall, not looking back.

Chapter Ten

HOW WAS YOUR night?” Larry was drying his hands with a dingy rag as I entered through the employee door.

“Fine.” I didn’t meet his gaze as I walked to the waitress station.

“Marla made a killin’ last night.” He was now leaning against the menu holder, judging me with his eyes.

“I had something I had to do. Laundry has been piling up.” My eyes flicked to his and I glanced back down at the bin of freshly washed silverware.

“Yeah, well, you need to stop airing all of your dirty laundry in the diner. Jax is driving away business.”

“I’m sorry, Larry. I’ll do my best to keep him away.”

Larry didn’t say anything else, just walked into the kitchen and got ready for the day. I sighed, letting my shoulders sag as I hoisted the heavy gray bin and made my way to a table.

I had rolled a few dozen pieces of silverware when Larry came out of the kitchen with two plates of food. He set one down in front of me, and I gave him a small smile. I picked up a fork and poked at the yolks of my eggs.

“It’s none of my business, but Jax . . .”

I shot Larry a glare.

“I know he don’t always do the right thing, but he sticks around. That other guy”—Larry motioned with his fork out toward the parking lot—“he ain’t the stayin’ type.” Larry cut a bite of ham and shoved it in his mouth, egg yolk running down his chin.

I nodded as a lump formed in my throat. I knew that. Tucker was going to be on the road, leaving this town, leaving me in his dust. I never expected anything different from him. So why was I suddenly so sad?

The bell chimed above the door. My first customer had arrived. I cleared my throat and went to the kitchen to start a fresh pot of coffee while she found a seat. I rushed back onto the floor with menu in hand.

“Welcome to Aggie’s Diner. My name is—”