White Trash Damaged
Page 9

“Same difference,” Chris said, and the others nodded in agreement.
“So do you have a new manager or what?”
Tucker shrugged and dropped his pizza on his plate, grabbing a napkin to wipe his mouth. Eric watched him for a minute before responding.
“I think she would be good for us,” he responded, and Tucker sat back in his seat, lacing his hands behind his head.
“You don’t agree?” I put my hand on Tucker’s thigh and felt him tense beneath my fingers.
“She’s younger and more into our scene.” He shrugged.
“So what’s the problem?’ I asked as I looked around at the others.
“She wants to fast-track our careers. She has lots of ideas,” Chris replied.
“That doesn’t sound so bad.” My eyes moved to Terry.
“She’s made huge deals in the past for other bands, like Lip and Crawl Space.”
“That’s great. I’m not seeing the problem.”
Eric grinned as he tossed his crumpled napkin on his half-eaten food.
“She doesn’t think it’s wise to have groupies . . . or girlfriends . . . on the road with us.” His smirk faded, and I knew he wasn’t being an ass**le.
“Oh.” I sat back in my seat and glanced over at Tucker.
“It’s not going to f**king happen. Either Cass stays with me, or I don’t go.” The muscles in Tucker’s jaw ticked.
“Nobody wants Cass to leave,” Terry replied, and I felt marginally better, but the pit in my stomach felt like it was going to consume me.
“So we hire her. She can be an assistant or personal shopper or some shit.” Eric was actually throwing out ideas to keep me around? I couldn’t help but smile.
“A writer,” Chris suggested.
“I’m not a writer.” I shook my head as I chewed on the end of my milk shake straw.
“You really think it’s wise to hire a manager who is already gonna start out with drama?” Tucker grabbed my hand from his leg and squeezed it.
“She’s good at what she does. This was what we’ve been needing; this is what’s going to be the difference between local gigs and sold-out arenas,” Eric almost shouted. The tension was beginning to build again, and I felt like I needed to help defuse the situation.
Tucker cut his eyes to Chris, and I rubbed my thumb over the back of his hand to try to calm him.
“Nothing against Dorris, man. She was great, but she doesn’t know a lot about this scene,” Chris explained.
Everyone was silent for a moment.
“I’ll show you my poem, if you think it’ll help convince her that I’m worth keeping around. And if you guys like it, it’s yours.” I kept my eyes on my burger as I waited for a response.
“You sure, sweetheart?” Tucker asked as he adjusted in his seat.
“Yeah, I want to help you guys.” I shrugged and sat my milk shake down on the table. “I think I’m stuffed.”
We made our way back to the bus, and the guys took turns getting themselves ready for their concert while I sat in Tucker’s bunk and let the memories of my past flood me. I wanted this song to feel real, unvarnished, the way Tucker’s songs did. I wanted this to be more than just some words on a piece of paper.
I pictured my mother and her struggle to follow her dreams in life as my father criticized her and told her she wasn’t good enough. I wondered what he would think of my life now and if he would be proud that I was no longer living in the situation I had been or if he would try to discourage me from following my dreams as well.
The truth is told through blurred vision, this is the world that I must live in
I wondered if he had changed at all from the man I remembered him as and if he regretted his decision to leave his family behind only to have Jax step in and fill his shoes. I blamed myself every day for the way things had ended. If I had only been honest, maybe things would not have had such a violent end, or maybe it would have only come sooner.
I’ve lost everything to you, but these words will get me through
Tears filled my eyes as I thought of what life would be like now if I hadn’t lost the baby. Would I be a good mother? Would history have continued to repeat itself? I would never know unless I was able to get back to where it all began, but my father was long gone, abandoning hope for our family and dooming it in the process. I would never get the answers to the questions that weighed me down.
If you take this life from me, I will fly with broken wings
Let me fill these empty sheets, with those lies of love you told to me
Tears began to fall on the paper, blurring the ink as I gave in to the sadness. It was therapeutic to tell my side of the story. Sarah was right; everyone should have a creative outlet to express their emotions. It amazed me how easily it came to me as I scribbled line after line. Once I started writing, I couldn’t stop. Maybe this was my purpose—to write. To share my pain, not only to heal myself, but maybe to help heal others.
“You okay?” Tucker asked as he held back the curtain to the bed.
“I’m fine. This is good.” I nodded and sniffled, giving him a small smile. He smiled back, his eyes filling with sadness before he let the curtain fall back into place.
My mother always seemed to hold out hope that things would get better, and I wished she would have lived long enough to see that they had. I no longer feared what tomorrow would bring, but the loss of her weighed heavy in my heart, and I felt guilty that I was able to move on with my life, leaving everyone else behind.
Angels have found their wings from you,
battered and bruised when they come through
Maybe I didn’t have a choice in the way it all ended. Maybe the course my life was on had been predetermined and the only control I had was how I handled the situations as they came my way.
This world was cruel and unforgiving,
not fit for angels to live in
Said I would never be alone,
lying on empty sheets in a place that’s not my home
I closed the notebook, and my eyes drifted up to the pictures of Tucker plastered to the roof of the bunk, reminding me that I was safe now, that that life was behind me, reminding me of the man who helped pull me out of that life and into this new one.
I slid out of the bunk, chewing on my lip as I walked to the table at the front of the bus. I dropped the notebook in front of Tucker, and his eyes drifted up to meet mine.
“I’m gonna step outside and get some air.” I turned and left the bus, suddenly feeling vulnerable and terrified. I couldn’t bear to hear what they had to say about my writing—I felt like I’d left a piece of my soul behind on that table, poised for their evisceration. Lyrics are their livelihood, and if they don’t like them, they won’t hesitate to tell me.
The sun was beginning to set, but the air was still muggy and holding on to the heat of the day. I was so nervous I contemplated going to a store and getting a pack of cigarettes, but I knew I would never hear the end of it from Tucker, so I continued to chew on my lip as I waited for what felt like a lifetime.
Finally the door swung open, and Tucker stepped down off the steps of the bus. I didn’t look at him as I fidgeted with the hem of my T-shirt.
I searched his face for some sort of reaction as he came to my side and leaned against the bus.
“It’s really f**king hard to read about what happened to you.” He kicked a few stones with his shoe. “But you did an amazing job.”
“What do the guys think?”
“They love it. Terry and Chris are already trying to figure out the beat to the song.”
“Really?” I finally allowed myself to look up at him. He was smiling, clearly finding my insecurity amusing.
“I meant what I said earlier. If this manager wants you gone, I’m leaving with you.”
“I won’t let you do that.”
“You don’t have a choice. I can’t live without you, Cass. Not again.”
I nodded and wrapped my arms around his neck. I loved how he fought for us, even when I didn’t think it was the best thing for him to do. His hand ran up and down my spine before he pulled back to look me in the eye.
“I love you more than anything. I know it’s hard for you to believe that, sweetheart, but I am willing to do anything to prove it to you.”
“I know you love me, Tucker. So much.”
The rest of the band began to file out of the bus, and I reluctantly pulled back from our embrace.
“Good job, Cass.” Chris placed his hand on my shoulder as he walked by. I beamed. Maybe I really had found my calling.
Chapter Eight
THE CONCERT WAS in full effect, and the air was buzzing with excitement backstage. The show would be twice the size of last night’s. Filth was just finishing up their set.
“Break a leg out there.” I gave Tucker a kiss on the cheek as Eric made gagging sounds from behind us. I rolled my eyes and shot him the finger behind Tucker’s back.
“I’ll see you soon.” We could hear the crowd roar from backstage. “That’s our cue.”
Sarah approached me with a wicked grin.
“What are you up to?” Tucker gave me a look of concern. I shook my head, no clue what she was planning.
“Girl time.” Sarah looped her arm in mine and pulled me from Tucker’s side. I shot him an apologetic look as she dragged me off to the hallway.
“Love you,” I mouthed, and Tucker winked at me as they disappeared in the opposite direction.
I focused my attention on the sweaty and overly excited rock star who was dragging me off into the unknown.
“Where are we going?” I asked as she shot me a smile.
“I figured after the drama, you could use a little pampering.”
I pulled back from her, but she kept a firm grip on my arm.
“Every girl needs to be pampered, and I don’t ever get to do this stuff.” She gave me her best puppy-dog eyes.
We slipped inside a closed door marked PRIVATE.
“What is this place?”
“Hair and makeup.” She was beaming with excitement. “Sit.”
“This is going to be a disaster.” I sat down in a chair in front of a large oval mirror.
“That’s the spirit!” Sarah stood behind me, sinking down so her face was next to mine as she inspected my reflection. “I can work with this.”
I giggled as I rolled my eyes, propping my feet up on the bar below the mirrored stand.
“So how is the writing going?” she asked as she grabbed a brush and began running it over my hair.
“Hold still, Cassie. Mommy can’t braid your hair if you keep squirming like a worm in your seat!” The memories of my mother flooded my thoughts, and I was overwhelmed with how much I missed the little moments we had together. I wished I had told her how much those times meant to me before she died.
“Hello? Earth to Cass!”
“Sorry. I wrote a song . . . I think. The guys really liked it. They want to play it.”
Sarah made a face letting me know she was impressed.
“Well aren’t you big-time now?” She gathered my hair and pulled it back with a hair tie. “How do you feel about makeup?”
“Repulsed.”
“Good enough. I am going to paint you up like a movie star.” Sarah spun my chair around to face her. “No peeking until I’m done.”
“You’re wasting your time. It’s like putting lipstick on a pig.” I laughed and actually snorted.
“You don’t have many female friends, do you?” She raised an eyebrow as she grabbed some sort of base coat to slather on my face.
“Do you?”
“None,” she said as she began to rub the creamy concoction over my cheeks. “It’s nice to have you here.”
I smiled, feeling exactly the same way.
“Now stop grinning or you’re gonna look like the Joker.”
I let her paint my face as we talked about love and relationships. I told her the story of how Tucker and I met, leaving out the most gruesome details of our relationship. She told me about her relationship with Derek and how it took them months to be able to be around each other after it ended. In the end, she felt the breakup was the best thing for them and the band.
“What do you think of Eric?” I asked as she pulled my hair down and ran her fingers through it, deciding which style she wanted to try.
“He’s . . . cute.” Her cheeks blushed.
“I think he likes you. When he looks at you, it is the only time he doesn’t look like he is plotting out someone’s murder.” I closed my eyes as her fingers rubbed over my scalp, separating my hair into sections.
“Too bad our band has a policy not to get involved with other bands.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but I could tell it upset her.
“Who better than someone who has a passion for the same things you do?” I asked.
“The guys would kill me. How do you feel about curls?”
“They’re okay, I guess. You’re changing the subject.”
“How would you feel if you broke up with Tucker and still had to work with him? Would you be able to see him with someone else?”
“I think it would break my heart all over again.”
“Exactly. I keep my mouth shut about Derek and his groupies, but it still hurts. I understand why he doesn’t want to see me with one of these other guys. I get it.” Sarah began to curl small sections of my hair as we chatted. I could completely understand her situation, but I couldn’t imagine how lonely it must be for her.
“Can I look in the mirror?” I asked, craning my neck as it began to stiffen.