Where I Found You

Chapter 10 - Jack..

Chapter 10 - Jack.

I've done about ten cars today and I still feel like I'm useless. I feel like I don't even have a purpose and I'm not used to talking or even thinking about feelings and all that shit - I usually push them all back and just get on with everything.

I slide out from under Mr Wilde's car and then stare up at the ceiling, the dark grey pipes running across it like an old warehouse. I then wipe my sleeve across my sweaty forehead and sit up, running a hand through my hair as some bastard on the radio goes on about floods in Hampshire. The guy in charge of the shop, Keith, can not work without the radio. He's a bald, middle aged guy with sleeve tattoos and he can be an idiot but at least I can keep a job here and it's worth it to have a bit of cash in my pocket. It's not like dad can keep supporting me, Dan, Stella and Jess so I have to work. He's got enough debts to pay and he added to it by buying the expensive house we live in now. His damn impulses are so stupid because he ends up struggling after he makes these decisions and leaves me and my brother and sisters to clean up after him. He's hardly home anyway.

I don't even have time for girls anymore. Why we moved is beyond me. I was happy - we were happy - back in Manchester and there wasn't a damn thing to worry about. If I open my mouth here most girls think I'm rough or uneducated or just plain thick because I'm from up north. It's a mess. Stella gets on fine at school and Jess doesn't even have to worry, since she's only seven. Even Dan seems to even have some tactic of staying cool, but me? Anyone I managed to acquaint myself with has gone off to bloody university - just where I want to be - and now I'm half hating them, too.

Except Ash. He works at the mechanic shop too and he went to my college, and now we're both taking a gap year - him because he couldn't get in first time round and me because my dad wants me to stay back. If dad had his way, I'd never go to university.

Ash can be annoying, and naive, and embarrassing, but he's a friend and he's reliable. And as he walks into my sight now I have to muster up a smile because he's grinning - as usual.

"You done?" He asks, and sort of checks out my position on the floor.

I stand up like it's nothing and strip my overalls off, throwing them into my bag and swinging it over my shoulder in reply.

"You wanna go get a drink? Sofia's meeting me at six," he goes on, and throws his keys up in the air.

"You're payin'. I'm broke," I warn him shortly, then eye his keys. "Are you picking up your sister?" I only ask because his sister, Melanie, is a bombshell. She's not even his sister really - more his step sister. But it's the same thing and she seems to have her eye on me.

Ash rolls his eyes at my somewhat hopeful expression. "Ahuh. But at like eight. We can just walk."

So that's what we do. I stash my bag in the back of my car in front of the run down garage and we walk through the bitter air to the bar down the road. Ash likes to stand outside so he can smoke and look out for his girl, so after he gets us both a beer with a glare at me, we go to the steps and stand there looking at the road.

"So it's not completely over with Sofia," I comment casually. Sofia is his girlfriend but she's well-known for being a heart breaker. Ash is crazy about her though, and I don't even dare to tell him that I don't like her. She's one of those tough girls and I like those, but she's tough and slutty and cheap too. Dangly hoop earrings, plunging neckline, back combed dyed hair, works at a supermarket. She's perfect for Ash. He was always complaining before how he could never get white girls but who needs white girls when you've got Sofia? Right.

Ash's always making racist jokes that include the pair of us. I'm not even black or African or Caribbean anything but I'm certainly not white, so it looks like I'm on his side of this battle. Both Ash's parents are from Jamaica but he was born here and I just have the 'half-caste' look. God I hate it when people use that term. My dad isn't white but he's definitely not black, and my mum was white so I'm what they call of 'mixed-race', and I like it that way. It makes me feel like I can be part of more than one group.