Tara Knowles awoke to the sound of a familiar guitar riff crackling through the speakers of the radio alarm clock on her night stand. She groaned, reaching in vain for the snooze button. Not even close. She was too comfortable to move, so she resigned herself to listening to Sheryl Crow's "All I Wanna Do" for the hundredth time that week as she forced herself to wake up. She even found herself humming along by the end as she watched rays of sunlight slowly creep across her bedroom floor.

When the song was over, she let out a deep sigh and stretched her arms high above her head, sitting up reluctantly as some car salesman prattled on about the huge sale his dealership was having that weekend. She kicked off the covers and got out of bed, knowing she couldn't miss the bus. She had a test in first hour, and Mrs. Grove was a bitch. She locked the classroom door the second the bell rang, and if you missed class, she wouldn't allow you to make up the work.

"All I wanna do…is have some fun…" Tara sang quietly as she made her way to the bathroom to shower and get ready for school. The irony of waking up to that song in particular on the morning of her sixteenth birthday was not lost on her. She presumed that most girls would love for a song about having fun to kick off their special day. But Tara Knowles was not most girls. And all she wanted was for the day to pass as quickly as possible. She never missed her mother more than during her milestone moments in life. The gaping hole that loss left in Tara's world had never been filled, and it made days like this one especially painful.

Tara showered quickly, making a mental note to remind her father that they were almost out of shampoo. She towel dried her long, wavy brown locks and dressed in her favorite ripped jeans and the Nirvana concert tee her cousin from Seattle sent her for Christmas, then brushed her teeth and applied a thin layer of mascara to her lashes and a single coat of lip gloss to her lips.

Tara didn't consider herself one of the "pretty girls" at Charming High, and therefore didn't see the need to spend hours getting ready in the mornings. Nobody ever noticed her anyway. Well, nobody aside from David Hale. But he didn't count. He'd been in love with Tara since the first day of preschool. After twelve years of living in the same neighborhood and being in the same classes, he was practically her brother, which made his obsession with her that much more unsettling.

She was quiet as she passed her father's room on her way to the kitchen, although she doubted he'd hear a tornado come through the house over the sound of his own snoring. As a rule, the louder Sean Knowles snored, the drunker he'd gotten the night before. Judging by the chainsaw-esque noises coming from behind his door, he'd probably pulled an all-nighter.

Tara knew it was foolish to think that he'd remember her birthday- that he'd be awake with breakfast made and a generic "Happy Birthday" card he picked up at the liquor store waiting for her. She knew better than to get her hopes up. Still, her heart sank when all she found in the kitchen was a sink full of dirty dishes, a table strewn with empty beer bottles, and a half-eaten plate of nachos on the counter.

She contemplated reheating the nachos and eating them, but then thought better of it. No telling how long they'd been there. Instead, she poured herself a bowl of cereal, and added milk to the list of things they needed from the grocery store. She ate quickly, then grabbed her backpack from the dining room chair it occupied daily, and made her way to the front door. She still had a good five minutes at least before the bus would arrive. She retrieved her house key from the empty candy dish that sat on the console table near the door, almost not noticing the small gold box sitting beside it.

She picked the box up, turning it over in her hand as she inspected it. She couldn't remember ever seeing it before. There was a chance it was for her, albeit a very small one. It wasn't wrapped like a gift. There was no shiny bow. They probably didn't sell bows at the liquor store, though. Reluctantly, Tara started to open the box. A tiny piece of folded-up paper fell to the ground. Tara bent over to pick it up, allowing the box to slam shut, its tiny hinges creaking as it snapped. She put the box in her pocket so she could use both hands to unfold what appeared to be a hand-written note.

Your mother would have wanted you to have this. Happy B-Day. -Dad

Tara tried in vain to swallow the lump that was forming in her throat, but it was growing larger by the second, making it almost impossible for her to breathe. She blinked back tears as she stared at the note. Her jumbled thoughts were interrupted by the familiar "swoosh" of school bus #24 coming to a stop in front of her house.

"Shit," she hissed, stuffing the note into her other pocket and running out of the house. She was in such a hurry, she forgot to lock the door behind her. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe her dad would think someone broke in and stole the little gold box and whatever was inside it, and she wouldn't have to have the inevitably awkward talk with him about it that awaited her when she got home. If he was even home when she got home, that is. 50/50 chance he'd already be at the bar by then.

Tara wiped her eyes and took a deep, uneven breath as she climbed onto the bus. She took her usual seat directly behind the driver. That was her favorite spot, because no one else would ever dare sit there. The cool kids went straight to the back of the bus, had since kindergarten. So there was no danger of anyone ever sitting with her and trying to strike up a conversation. Especially since David was on a different bus route this year. Thank God.

She waited until the bus had merged with traffic before she took the mysterious gold box out of her pocket. She was conflicted about whether or not she even wanted to open it. After a few minutes, her curiosity got the best of her, and she flipped the lid open once more, this time all the way. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her.

In the box was a gold, heart-shaped locket on a delicate gold chain. Her mother's necklace. There wasn't much Tara remembered about her mother anymore, but she remembered that necklace. When her mother would hold her in her lap and sing to her, Tara would play with the locket, opening and closing it. Inside it was a picture of Tara as a baby. She wondered if it was still there.

With her hands shaking and her lower lip trembling, she opened the locket. Her baby picture was inside, just as it had always been. But another picture had been added to the other side- one of her mother when she was very young, probably about the same age as Tara. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared at the picture. Her mother was so beautiful, so happy, so alive. It wasn't fair. If ever a little girl needed her mother, it was Tara. She didn't have siblings or a doting father or a large extended family. Her mother was her entire world. And when she died, so did a giant part of Tara.

No one had ever loved Tara like her mother did, and no one else probably ever would. She'd given up on the thought of ever having that sort of pure, unconditional love in her life again. She'd settle for any type of love at all, really. She put the locket on and clutched it tightly to her chest for a long moment. She pulled the note from her other pocket, smoothed out the wrinkles, then refolded it and put it back inside the box.

She wasn't sure whether she loved or hated her father for surprising her with such a thoughtful gift. Probably a little bit of both. While that locket would forever be her most prized possession, it pissed her off when her dad had good moments, because it reminded her of how much he was depriving her of by being a worthless drunk. He was capable of being a good man, a decent father. He'd been those things once. And seeing a glimmer of that every now and then was almost more painful for Tara than if he was just miserable and incoherent all the time.

The ride to the school seemed much shorter than usual, and before Tara knew it, she was pushing her way through the crowded halls to her locker, which was nowhere near any of her classes. Of course. All of the emotions she was feeling, all of the thoughts running through her head- she had to shut them off. School was no place for that shit. Lucky for her, she'd gotten pretty good at doing just that over the years.

As she was stuffing her backpack into her locker and fishing out her chemistry book, she caught an unmistakable whiff of Old Spice cologne. Great.

"Good morning, David," she said, without bothering to turn around.

"Good morning, Tara," he answered. "Happy Birthday." Tara closed her locker, offering David Hale a polite smile. Her smile faded, however, when she noticed that he had his hands behind his back and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Oh God," she moaned. If the men in her life were trying to make this her most uncomfortable birthday ever, they were succeeding.

"For you, my lady," he announced, producing a single, long-stemmed red rose from behind his back.

"Thank you, David," Tara sighed. The flower was actually beautiful. And David really was a good guy. He wasn't even bad looking, if Tara was being honest. He was tall, athletic, and had beautiful blue eyes. He was tan year-round due to all the outdoor sports he played, and he had an infectious smile that only Tara seemed to be immune to. His only physical misstep was that goofy haircut- the same one he'd been sporting since fifth grade. Tara wished she could see David as something other than a friend. It would make her life so much easier. But it just wasn't there.

"Got any big birthday plans tonight?" he asked. Tara shot him a knowing glance, as if the answer to that question should have been obvious. David cleared his throat nervously. "Right," he said. "Sorry. Well, I was wondering, if you're not doing anything, if you'd maybe like to go to dinner with me? Say, Luca's around 6:00? My dad's letting me borrow the car tonight, so I can pick you up."

Tara's knee-jerk reaction was to shoot him down. But a night out with David might be a little more bearable than a night at home with her dad after the locket stunt he'd pulled. And Luca's did have amazing pizza. She hadn't been there in forever.

"Sure," she agreed.

"Really?" David asked, unable to mask his surprise. He was a little too used to being shot down by Tara. But it never seemed to discourage him.

"6:00," Tara confirmed. "See you then." David opened his mouth to respond, grinning from ear to ear, but Tara left him hanging as she hurried away from him, toward her first hour. He was used to that too. She'd never been much for manners. But he didn't mind.

Thanks to David Hale and his puppy dog crush, Tara was behind schedule, and once again at risk of being late for class. She hurried through the school's main corridor, turning sharply down the hall that led to the science wing. In too much of a rush to pay attention to where she was going, Tara collided with a brick wall that smelled of leather and motor oil.

"Easy there," crooned a smooth, unfamiliar voice. Tara looked up. Jackson Teller, the bad boy heart throb of Charming. Who else, right? Tara's cheeks instantly flushed bright red.

"Sorry," she croaked, her throat suddenly very dry.

" 'Sall good," he assured her, tucking his sandy blonde hair behind his ears. Tara wasn't usually one to go along with public opinion, but Jax Teller's allure was undeniable. He was perfection- gorgeous, charismatic, popular, dangerous. Everything David Hale wasn't. And he knew it. "That for me?" he asked, looking at the flower in Tara's hand. She swallowed hard.

"Uh, no," she answered. She tried to make eye contact as a show of false confidence, but she failed miserably. Jax's mesmerizing baby blue gaze was too intense. She was no match for it. Especially not today. "Birthday present," she explained. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. So much for keeping her birthday off the radar.

"Today's your birthday?" Jax asked, offering Tara a genuine smile. She nodded. "Well, Happy Birthday," he said. "Looks like your boyfriend's takin' good care of you."

"Oh, I don't...David's not…I don't have a…boyfriend," Tara stammered.

"You don't?" Jax asked, sounding surprised. Tara couldn't tell whether he was sincere or mocking her.

"No," she said.

"Tara Knowles is single," Jax said, more to himself than to her. Tara was shocked that he knew her name. Everybody knew who he was, but she was a nobody. "Well, well, well." Tara smiled involuntary, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks once more. Jax smiled back. Tara met his gaze again, only this time she didn't look away. She couldn't. She was under his spell. A delicate butterfly trapped in his web, completely at his mercy. She almost didn't even hear the bell when it rang. "Whoops," Jax murmured, not seeming to care at all that he was late for first hour. First hour.

"Shit!" Tara breathed. Jax's brow furrowed.

"Something wrong?"

"I have a test first hour," Tara explained. "Mrs. Grove."

"Well then you're already fucked," Jax chuckled. "That bitch don't play." Tara sighed, defeated. This day just kept getting worse and worse. "Aw, turn that frown upside down, birthday girl," Jax teased, touching his thumbs to Tara's cheeks in an effort to literally turn her frown upside down. Tara gasped. Jax's skin felt like fire on hers. The suddenly unsettled look in his eyes almost made her think that he felt it too. "Come with me," he told her, taking her hand in his.

"What?" Tara asked, her head spinning.

"I said come with me," he repeated. It's your birthday, you don't wanna spend it in this shit hole. Besides, you already failed a test and it's not even five minutes into first hour. I'm no genius like you, Miss Knowles, but I'd say those are two very good reasons to blow off the rest of the day and come spend it with me." His words were confident, but his eyes were unsure. Pleading, maybe? That couldn't be right. Jackson Teller could have any girl he wanted. Why would he want Tara?

"Me and you?" Tara asked quietly, confused.

"Me and you," Jax said, an unreadable expression on his face. Tara nodded. She had no choice. Jax linked his fingers through hers and pulled her behind him as he headed for the double doors at the end of the hall, not seeming to care in the slightest if they were caught. Tara's heart was beating so fast, she could feel her pulse from the hair follicles on top of her head to the tips of her bright red toenails. She had no idea where they were going, but she didn't care. From that moment on, she would follow Jackson Teller anywhere.