White Trash Damaged

7

I LOCKED MYSELF IN the cramped bathroom of the bus, waiting for the humiliation of my nightmare to pass. I couldn’t look at my own reflection in the mirror because that scared little girl from the trailer park might be staring back at me.

There was a soft knock at the door, and I hesitated before sliding open the small pocket door.

“We were thinking of going out for a bite to eat,” Eric said as he leaned against the wall.

“Sure. I’ll see you guys later.” I forced the lump in my throat down as I began to pull the door closed. He stuck his hand out, stopping me as he laughed.

“We aren’t going without you. You’re part of this family, too.” He shook his head as he took a step back. “Get ready, woman. Powder your shit or whatever it is you chicks do. I’m starving.” His hand rubbed over his stomach before he walked toward the front of the bus.

I smiled as I glanced back at the small mirror over the sink, this time boldly taking in my reflection. I needed to stop living in the past. I had moved on from that broken, shattered shell of the girl who lived in the trailer park—I had embarked on a new chapter and, for the first time, I allowed myself to pause for a moment and take it all in. My thoughts briefly drifted to Sarah. Watching her onstage last night, I was instantly intimidated by the way she took control and demanded attention from the crowd. That was something I needed to learn to do in my own life. Sarah was right—I needed to figure out what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be. My dreams had changed so much in the last year that I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of my life. I knew I wanted Tucker by my side; that was a given. But I also wanted to have my own identity. Leaving the trailer park was not the end of my dreams.

“Where are we going?” I asked as I stepped into the tiny hallway of the bus.

“Chinese,” Terry called from the front of the bus.

“Pizza,” Chris said, shoving his brother in the shoulder.

“We could hit the food court in the mall. They have a little bit of everything,” I called out, and all eyes turned to me. Tucker hooked his arm around my neck and kissed me on the temple.

“I love you.” His breath tickled my ear and sent a shiver all the way down to my toes.

“I love you, too.”

“All right. Let’s not make us all sick before we even eat,” Eric yelled, but he was smiling; a rare sight.

We made our way to the mall, laughing together in one cohesive group, and I was filled again with a new sense of hope. Maybe they were starting to let me in.

I ordered a milk shake and burger from Mooers and Shakers as the guys spread out to order their food.

“You want me to take that?” Tucker asked as he grabbed a fry from my tray and popped it into his mouth.

“I think I can handle it, Tucker,” I replied as he made a face when the fry burnt his tongue. We picked a corner booth away from the chaos of the teenage girls who crowded the mall.

“I know you can. I like doing things for you.”

“You’ve done enough.”

“A lover’s quarrel? Dinner and a show.” Eric sat his tray at the end of the booth and grabbed a chair from a neighboring table, turning it backward to straddle it.

“We aren’t fighting.” I blew on a fry before biting off the end.

“Shame. Tuck writes better when he is all sad and bitchy. The lovey-dovey shit is hell on his creativity.” He laughed and Tucker smacked him on the chest.

“I think we’ve had enough sad times to last us a lifetime.” My eyes fell on the twins as they slid into the bench seat across from us.

“My writing doesn’t hold a candle to Cass’s.” Tucker grabbed his slice of pizza from his plate and took a bite.

I laughed nervously as I took a bite from my burger.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Lay it on us.” Eric folded his hands together, giving me his undivided attention.

“You’re out of your damn mind! How did the meeting go?” I asked the twins, wanting to divert the attention from me.

“It was all right. If you have some new material for us, we wouldn’t mind taking a look,” Terry replied. So much for diverting attention.

“I don’t know how to write songs. It’s more of a poem.”

“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 asshole.

“Oh.” I sat back in my seat and glanced over at Tucker.

“It’s not going to fucking 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 fucking 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.