White Trash Beautiful
Page 13

 Teresa Mummert

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“Sit.” He smiled and patted the cushion next to him. I gave a weak grin and sat down next to him. His attention went back to the news.
“You see this storm coming in?”
I nodded and began to eat my food.
“Gonna be lots of people needing repairs.” His eyes met mine.
I smirked. “That’s great. We could use the extra money.”
He nodded again. We ate in silence as my stomach retched. He was trying. I pushed my food around with a cracker.
“You gonna eat that?” His eyes were on my bowl. I shook my head and handed it to him. He continued to talk about the stories on the news, but I couldn’t focus on his words. When he wasn’t strung out, I could still see the boy I first fell in love with. My heart sank.
I took the empty bowls to the sink and leaned over it, trying to clear my head.
“You got some money I could borrow?”
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes closed. Nothing had changed. I stomped down the hall to my room and pulled ten dollars from my bear.
I didn’t bother to look at him as I crumpled it into a ball and tossed it at him.
“Where did you have this hidden?”
I didn’t answer. He stood quickly and grabbed my face roughly. I let out a whimper as his fingers dug into my flesh.
“If I find out you’re hiding shit from me, you will f**king pay. Do you understand me?” He looked murderous.
I nodded my head as tears began to stream down my cheeks.
“Good.” He pushed my face back and I quickly touched my cheek. I could feel the bruises forming. He fell back onto the couch as if nothing had happened, his eyes glued to the television.
I turned and bolted out the front door. I didn’t look back. I didn’t want him to see me crying. I felt like a fool. Why would he change now? He didn’t see his drug use as a problem. The only problem was that I didn’t just accept it.
I made my way into the diner through the front door. The bell chimed above my head and I quickly wiped my cheeks as I glanced around the room.
Larry raised his eyebrow at me and I gave him a quick nod. His eyes followed me as I made my way to the coffee machine and prepared a fresh pot. He disappeared into the kitchen.
“Change your mind about tonight’s shift? No refunds.” Marla grabbed the pot and slid a mug under the machine to fill it for a customer.
“Nope. It’s all yours.” I didn’t look at her. I wasn’t in the mood for anyone’s bullshit. I also didn’t want to talk myself out of going to the concert.
She pulled the mug from the machine and slipped the pot back in its place. Why didn’t anyone ever ask me if I was okay? Just once, I wanted someone to be concerned about me and not himself.
I yanked the pot from its resting place and slipped my mug under the slow trickle of coffee.
Larry pushed through the kitchen door carrying a steaming plate of eggs and took it to the corner booth. I watched him as he turned in my direction and ran his hands through his greasy gray hair. He pointed to the table and walked back to the kitchen. I watched him as my mouth hung open. I grabbed a roll of silverware and made my way to the table. I was starving.
I savored every bite of the delicious comfort food even though my jaw was tender. Marla stood over me as I cut up the last few bites of my ham steak. She took the coffeepot and topped off my mug.
“Thanks.” I emptied a few sugar packets into the black liquid.
“Big night tonight, huh?” She smiled, and all the blood drained from my face as my heart began doing a hard-rock drum solo. She patted my shoulder with her free hand. “I always hated laundry.” She turned and headed off to her one customer. I blew out a long breath. I was a lot of things, but adding liar to the top of that list was a heavy burden to carry.
Everyone knew what Jackson put me through; no one cared. With fresh bruises forming on my face and my eyes still swollen from my tears, that fact was more clear to me now than ever before. It was time for me to care for myself. If I didn’t do something to make myself happy, no one else would. I need this. I squeezed my eyes shut.
“Good?” Larry grabbed the plate from the table, flicking the dishrag over his shoulder.
My eyes shot open and I nodded, scared for a moment that he could see what kind of person I was written all over my face. I tried to justify running around on Jackson with all of the things he did to me, but I knew it still made me a bad person. I didn’t want anyone, even Larry, looking at me that way.
Larry turned and made his way back to the kitchen, oblivious of the inner turmoil I was feeling.
“Thanks,” I called after him. His hand flew into the air to signal he had heard me as he disappeared back into the kitchen.
I watched the customers come and go as I let myself get lost in my daydreams. I didn’t want to go home, but I knew I would need to in order to get my dress.
I walked across the dusty lot and through the fencing that kept us in like caged animals. I hoped I could get in and out of the house without a fight.
Jackson was probably high by now and shouldn’t be too much trouble. I slipped in through the front door, holding it so it wouldn’t bang shut.
I tiptoed down the hall and slipped into my room unnoticed. I could hear my mother in her room. I shook at the thought of her and Jax getting high while I prepared to run off, leaving them far behind for the night. I slipped on my work clothes and took my yellow dress, fitting it into a bag that I could drop out my window. I grabbed my necklace and carefully hooked it around my neck. I took a minute to examine myself in the bathroom mirror. With a sigh, I was ready to leave. I was going to do this.
Two deep breaths and I rounded the corner into the hallway. No one stopped me, no one was concerned where I was or where I was going. I slipped out the front door into the bright light of the sun, taking a moment to breathe in the warm country air. I moved quietly around the trailer and grabbed my bag, glancing around to make sure no one was watching.
I walked as fast as I could to the pay phone at the diner. My cab was on its way. I smiled nervously as I slipped in through the employee entrance to the restaurant and into the bathroom.
Yanking off my clothes, I pulled the bright yellow dress over my head and shoved the sandals onto my feet. I freed my hair from my ponytail and ran my fingers through it. The stupid grin I wore whenever I thought of Tucker was now permanently plastered on my face. I took the bag of work clothes and shoved it under the bathroom sink. No one would ever look under there. I was the only one who ever cleaned it.
I opened the door and glanced down the hall to make sure no one was watching. When I was sure the coast was clear, I made a dash for it. I ran across the parking lot, not stopping until I was under the giant oak tree that stood next to the main road.
The shade did little to keep the heat at bay, and I wished I had stayed inside the cool restaurant a little longer, but I couldn’t risk getting caught.
Chapter Thirteen
I COUNTED THE MONEY I had left from Tucker and slipped it into my little purse. I never used the thing, which was an odd shade of baby blue, but it was all I had. I snapped it closed and slipped the strap over my head so it crossed my body. I wasn’t used to carrying around cash and it made me incredibly nervous.
The cab pulled up and I practically ran for it. I wanted to get as far away from this place as possible.
“The pier at Tybee, please.” I looked out the window as we took off down the road. Everything seemed different. I watched the scenery pass as I wrung my hands together on my lap.
“Going to the concert?” The driver’s eyes were on mine in the mirror.
I nodded and looked back out the window.
“Lots of good bands tonight. You’re lucky.”
He had no idea. I just hoped my luck wouldn’t run out anytime soon.
The rest of the trip we didn’t speak. We listened to the radio instead, and the station was playing songs from all the bands that would be performing tonight. My heart skipped a beat when Tucker’s voice filled the small space.
I didn’t recognize the song, but it was absolutely beautiful. When he sang, “Come away to the water,” I couldn’t help but feel as if he were singing to me. I wished I could have made this trip with him, my arms wrapped around him on his motorcycle.
We crossed the Intracoastal Waterway, and I knew that in minutes we would be on the island. I tried to focus on the scenery and not let myself get too nervous. Fort Pulaski sat back to the right. I had always wanted to go there, but my father had told me that we would do it some other time. That time never came.
We soon passed the lighthouse and dolphin tours. My heart was pounding out of my chest. As the Sugar Shack went by, we turned to drive along the coast. This was it. The island was small and could be crossed in minutes. I began biting my nails nervously as I watched ahead.
We pulled into the small parking lot next to the pier. The crowd was overwhelming. I glanced at the meter and handed the driver a stack of bills.
“Have fun,” he called after me as I pushed open the door and took in the sight. The salty smell of the ocean engulfed me, and I had no idea where to go from here.
I walked toward the giant wooden structure that jutted out into the ocean. I made my way under the pavilion where tourists gathered to eat pizza and ice cream. An arm wrapped around mine and I jumped, spinning around when I thought I had been caught.
“There you are. The yellow was a good call.” An older woman eyed me with a scowl on her face.
“Aren’t you . . .?” I recognized her angry face immediately. The old woman from the dinner the other day. She’d left me a measly three-cent tip.
“I’m Dorris, Tucker’s manager.” She held out her hand for me. I took it and shook it limply. Tucker had said that Dorris had saved him from his childhood. I wondered why she’d left the magazine for me to read. Was she trying to scare me away from him?
“Don’t give me that look. I had to make sure you weren’t some two-bit floozy wanting to take Tucker’s money. It’s so easy for these boys to get distracted.” She turned and began to walk down the wooden steps. I followed after her, still unable to process this revelation. “Your coffee sucks, by the way.” She glanced over her shoulder at me. “The service wasn’t much better.” She let out a small laugh.
I opened my mouth to say something but couldn’t form the words.
“Let’s go, dear. We don’t have all damn day.” She waved her hand, motioning for me to catch up to her. I walked faster, trying to keep pace.
We made it across the busy street to the Tybrisa hotel. It was four stories tall and white, with blue-railed balconies lining the front.
She stopped in front of the doors. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a key card, holding it out to me. “Don’t do anything to get him worked up before the concert. He needs his head in the game.” With that, she turned, shaking her head as she made her way down the street.
I smiled like an idiot as I held the card to my chest and looked over the hotel. My nerves crept back in.
I slowly stepped inside and made my way to the stairwell. As I rounded the corner, two hands found my waist and pulled me into their body from behind. I squealed and pushed against him.
“It’s me,” Tucker whispered in my ear, holding me firmly against him. The smell of coconut filled the air.
“What are you doing?” I twisted in his arms to face him.
“I can’t let anyone see me. They’ll never leave us alone.” He smiled. “I’m glad you came.” He pulled me tighter against him and wrapped his arms around my back.
I hesitated, not used to being hugged; it seemed foreign and unnatural. I let myself relax and slipped my arms around his neck, inhaling his scent. I loved the smell of coconuts because it reminded me of the beach, of freedom. I hadn’t put two and two together that the smell of him was ingrained in my mind as my escape until I was actually here.
“Don’t you have a room?” a voice boomed from behind us. I pulled back from Tucker, embarrassed, but his hands held firm on my back, keeping me in place. My eyes danced over the black T-shirt that clung to his chest. He’d paired it with dark, wash-distressed jeans. His hair seemed slightly shorter, and I wondered if he had gotten it cut since I had last seen him.
“Worry about your playing, Chris, and not my social life,” Tucker shot back.
Chris let out a deep laugh and headed to the lobby of the building. “I just played a redhead like a fiddle. Does that count?”
I looked at Tucker and let out a small giggle.
“That dress looks amazing on you.”
I felt my cheeks flush at his compliment. “Thank you. I love it.”
He smiled and brushed my hair back from my face. He cocked his head to the side and ran his fingers along my jaw. His expression grew concerned. “What’s this?” He pushed my head to the side so he could get a better look at the purpling bruise.
“It’s nothing.” I turned my head back and let my hair fall down over my cheeks.
“I’m going to f**king kill him.” Tucker clenched his teeth and his body became rigid against mine.
“No . . . no . . . no . . . You’re not. You’re going to calm down and get ready for this concert.”
He shook his head as I spoke, running his hand through his hair.
“Dorris is going to be pissed,” I said under my breath.
“What? Don’t worry about Dorris. She’s not nearly as mean as she looks.” He laughed a little and his eyes locked on mine. He relaxed slightly. “Come on.” He slipped his fingers in mine and pulled me up the stairs. I hesitated and he turned to face me from several steps up. “What?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go into your hotel room.” I shrugged.