Title: Accidents Happen

Written by: Traciaknows

Rating for Chapter: T

Main Characters: Jax Teller/Tara Knowles

A/N: This chapter has not been betaed. Any and all mistakes are mine. Comments are greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

His whole day had been bullshit. Serious bullshit. Hitting the glass door of Charming High like a shot he was more determined than ever that his days at the school would quickly be coming to an end.

Jax Teller absolutely hated school. He hated every goddamned moment of it. He hated the itchy cabin-fever feeling he got whenever he was inside too long. He hated being told not only what to learn, but what to think about what he was learning about. Most importantly, he hated being told what to do with his time. If there was one thing that he had learned in his sixteen years was that life was too short, and that a man should make every moment count. It was just hard to seize the moment when eight hours of the day was set in stone. Or nine, he thought bitterly, if he counted the detention he was currently headed out of.

Detention wasn't something new to him, trouble had never been hard pressed to find him. This time though, it grated since he had been doing the right thing. Some of the asshole preps had been pushing around Lowell, the scrawny freshman who sure as hell couldn't defend himself against four other dudes. Lowell wasn't a bad kid and he had known that the kid had been having a hard time since his old man had suddenly split. Jax hadn't thought twice about stepping into the tussle, but since he had been seen throwing the first punch, he had been the one landed after school.

Thunder rumbled as he bounced down the cement stairs that lead down to the nearly empty parking lot where he had parked his motorcycle that morning. It was late March and the sun couldn't make it through the clouds that had rolled in during the day. He breathed in the scent of pre-rain ozone and freshly mowed grass. Reaching the bottom, he gave a glance to the players in the ball field attached a short distance from the left side of the lot. There had been a time when he would have been on that field, but those days were over, and with a shrug he found himself strolling towards Opie Winston, his best friend since practically birth.

Loyal to the core, Opie sat on his own bike. Opie's gave Jax a good-natured smile before handing Jax his leather cut that they weren't allowed to wear in school. Shrugging it on, Jax unhooked his helmet from his bike and started to put it on too, when Opie stopped him.

"You catch a look at that?" Opie asked, gesturing with a nod.

Jax turned and followed Opie's gaze toward the middle of the parking lot and immediately thought that his day might not of been totally wasted after all.

The Cutlass was a late 60s model in an inky black, and sexy as hell. Its glossy black paint gleamed even in the weak sunshine. The car was definitely something. He was a motorcycle guy himself, but growing up in the blue-collar world of his family's mechanic shop, gave him a healthy respect for all vehicles that could move fast. He didn't doubt for a second that given the right driver, the pretty cage would move.

"Damn son," Opie said with no little reverence, "that is a thing of beauty.

And it was, no doubt, but it was the girl who was the obvious owner, that held his attention. The flannel shirt covering up the baby doll dress hid her figure, but as she bent to grab something from the trunk, he spotted a glimpse of her long legs covered in tights stuffed into Doc Martins. Whoever she was, he appreciated her look and the fact that it looked like she knew something about cars. He watched as she came around to the front with a cloth and raised hood, and started to check the oil. She moved surely before pulling upright and heading back to the trunk.

"She as hot as the car?"

"Haven't gone over to look."

"Pussy," Jax replied with a smirk before asking, "Who is she?"

"New girl. Just moved here from San Diego."

"Not everyday you see a classic Cutlass."

Opie shook his head, "Not every day to see someone so hot here at CH."

Without taking his eyes off the girl, Jax grinned, he piss poor mood from earlier lightening some, "You call dibs?"

"Nah." Opie never called dibs anymore. Jax figured it had something to do with him being sweet on the little cutie that was Donna Sanders. He'd probably have a shot with her too, if Opie would ever actually talk to her.

Jax had no problems talking with girls. It had always come easy for him, women were always around the shop fussing over him, and the fact that he still carried the hard body of a ball player and had what his mother called "a poet's face" certainly hadn't hurt either.

"Excellent," he said as they watched the girl get into the driver's side and pull out of the lot. Yeah, the day was definitely getting better.

He swung a leg over his bike, pulling it up, and starting it. The bike rumbled to life, he glanced at Opie who only shrugged before starting his own bike. Together, the roared out of the parking lot and down the school's long drive to the highway.

There was nothing in his life that compared to the freedom he felt when he rode. In the tense year, following his dad's death, the riding had been the only thing that had made him really smile. He had been given the Harley for his birthday by Clay, his stepfather of less than six months. He knew that with the bike came the expectation that someday soon, he would begin to take the necessary steps to become a member of the Sons of Anarchy.

Like the wind that whipped into Jax's face as he raced away from the school, the Sons were a force of nature. Originally founded by his dad and Opie's, the Sons of Anarchy walked to a different code of honor. Respect mattered, so did loyalty. A man did what needed to be done and certainly brotherhood was placed above all else, including the law. They were outlaws and proud of it, but it had been Jax's old man that had told him often that any idiot could pick up a gun and use it, but it took a real man to use that gun and deal with the repercussions of his actions. All Jax had ever wanted from life was to join the Sons and make his father proud, that and to keep on riding.

Thunder rolled over the mountains again, and he upped his speed knowing that Opie would be close behind. Within a few short miles, they were stitching a line past the few cars on the two-lane highway in tandem, now pushing the speed limit, the trees lining both sides of them, blurring as they flashed by.

In hardly any time, they caught up with the girl who kept the inky Cutlass a good five below the limit. Apparently, the girl liked to play it safe. Forced to slow down, he followed her for close to a mile before the road opened up with an additional passing lane. Knowing that Opie would take his lead, he gunned it and went to pass her, turning his head ever so slightly, to catch a better look at her as he did.

She had taken off her shades, and couldn't help but notice her dark eyes and serious expression. With a smirk, he gave the engine a little more speed, hoping to have just a few more seconds to make an of impression on her.

He caught the flash of brown in the corner of his eye and reacted by instinct.

As the terrified deer darted out of the woods and straight in front of him, Jax could only swerve back in front of the Cutlass to avoid hitting it. The girl slammed on the brakes, cutting the wheels fast. Reacting quickly, he pitched his body weight to one side, desperately trying to put the bike down to minimize the damage. Hitting the asphalt hard, he felt his wrist crunch and the road cut into his leg, burning and tearing, his jeans offering little protection. The impact knocked the wind out of him and when he stopped skidding, Jax felt his vision waiver, the gray sky above him threatening to turn black.

He heard the squeal of the Cutlass coming to a stop and the unmistakable sound of metal crunching. He turned his head to see that the Cutlass had hit part of a tree and was now in pretty bad shape. He turned back, looking back up at the sky, trying to blink away the blackness, when he heard the fast thud of Opie's boots as he came running towards him. Unable to push his bike completely off himself, Jax lay back, trying to squeeze air into his too tight lungs. He hoped to God that deer met up with the wrong side of some hunter's gun.

"God damn it Jax! You ok?" Opie's panicked face hovered over his as he accessed the damage, "You scared the shit out of me."

"Yeah," he managed to wheeze out as Opie stood up to help yank the bike off of him and propped it up. Sitting up Jax took it all in, and again hoped for the deer to meet a violent end. "Son of a bitch."

"Anything broken?" Jax looked down at his wrist and gave Opie a gritted teeth nod. He had little doubt that it was broken since it hurt like a bitch. Opie reached a hand down, and Jax took hold of his forearm with his left hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. Pain sliced through him. His jeans were torn and bloody and there was little doubt that he'd probably need some stitches in several places.

He held onto Opie for a moment to steady himself and then reached up unsnap his helmet, tossing it towards his broken bike. Looking over at the Cutlass again, he took in the steam wafting from underneath the busted hood. "Any idea about the girl?" he motioned.

"Haven't gotten a chance to find out yet. You being alive was my main priority dude."

"Well, let's go check."

. . . .