Chapter 1: Fine Line
Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or Little Big Town
"Completely… / … getting by"-Fine Line, Little Big Town
What would it be like to be part of a happy, normal family? Was there such …
A loud crash followed by a string of curse words came from the second floor.
…a thing?
A teenage girl stood frozen in the kitchen. She listened as she tried to calm her breathing. No one was coming, at least not yet. It didn't sound as though his mood had improved from last night. She'd hoped to do more before he was awake.
Indigo eyes caught a glance of the microwave clock. The glowing numbers showed it was a quarter to six in the morning. The owner of those blue eyes sighed. That's an ungodly time to go to school but she knew she couldn't stay here. Not now, not while he's in this mood. As if to prove her thoughts, a deep male voice growled as someone came down the stairs. She knew she had to get out of there. She didn't want another fight.
Once outside, the petite, dark-clad figure hurried across the back yard. After making sure no one saw her, she cut through the neighbor's yard. Walking along the neighboring street, she kicked a pebble and sighed. She thought about sneaking out. Her father probably wasn't upset that she wasn't there. He didn't care what she did as long as he didn't think she made him look bad. She hoped by the time she got home from school, his mood was improved.
Turning the corner, she checked her watch and sighed again. School was a few blocks away but it was still too early to go there. Everyone might think she a loser but she didn't have to act like one by showing up at school two hours early. What could she do for an hour and a half? Not much was open at this time of day. Not that she wanted to be around people anyway.
So, she did what she usually did. In need of peace and quiet, she went to a park that's along the way. So early in the morning, this park is empty. The teen had her pick of swings. Choosing one, she pulled a book, a sleeve of toaster pastries and my worn-out, mp3 player out of her backpack. This was nothing new to her. She started hanging out in the empty park last year. She knew she had to be careful but no one bothered her; she was often ignored. The girl's been alone ever since she lost her mother. The solitude didn't bother her. By now, she was used to it.
Today was like any other day, especially after one of their "arguments". She hated nights like last night. Her father called them arguments but they're were turning into fights. Fights the girl couldn't win. She didn't think it mattered what she did. She was always wrong; a screw up in her father's eyes.
Last night, they fought about the cost of school, the books and supplies. Money is no object for her father. He has no problem buying things for himself. It's only when she, his daughter, needs something is there a problem.
She rubbed the crook of her arm where her father grabbed her. It's still tender but she didn't think it'd bruise too badly. Until they moved to Jump City, he never hurt her physically. She didn't know why but that's changed.
Sitting in a park eating breakfast, she thought about her thoughts as she left the house. She sighed, She didn't think there was such a thing as a happy, normal family. Someone was always mad at someone. Someone always got hurt. Why did it have to be her? Gathering her long dark hair and pulling it up into her hood, she continued her breakfast. The park, as usual, was empty except for a lone hooded figure.
The quiet didn't last too long. A group of four high school boys came to the park. Three of them were bullying the forth one. No one noticed her, as usual. The teen tried to ignore them and kept reading. She tried not to listen, but she couldn't help hearing their demeaning taunts. For a little while, she watched them. She thought she recognized the bullied teen. She'd seen him around school. He might have been in some of her classes last year. When she heard the blond boy try to joke his way out of the situation, she knew he was Garfield Logan.
He's the class clown; always joking. The bullies were getting rougher. The hooded girl looked around the park. She wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't sit there and watch this kid get hurt. She knew what her mother would want her to do; she'd want her to help. The girl thought, 'I've stood up to my father, sort of.' She winced; her shoulder still hurt from the last time she "stood up" to him. 'There's a chance that between this Logan kid and me we can scare them off.' She put her stuff back in her bag and hoped her baggy sweatshirt and jeans would hide her thin form. She went over to them with her hood still up.
"Hey," she called out, trying to make her voice sound as tough as possible. "Leave him alone."
Everyone turned and looked at her. One of the guys went up to her and said, "What's a scrawny kid like you gonna do?" He shoved her, causing her hood to fall back. Long black hair fell around her shoulders.
'Damn,' she thought, 'now what?'
"What do we have here?" the guy said. "Did your girlfriend come to help you?"
Gar said, "She's not my girlfriend."
'Thanks a lot. I'm trying to help you and you still insult me.'
"Then, maybe, she came to play?" the guy sneered at her. "What do ya say, Sunshine, wanna have some fun?"
"Wow, you are original," she groaned.
"Shut up."
The second guy whined, "But she's that creepy, loser girl."
"So," the first guy said leering, "that doesn't mean we can't have a little fun. We're not gonna do much, just feel some things. You're okay with that right, Sunshine?" Before she could move, he grabbed her elbow.
Gar yelled, "Let her go! She has nothing to do with this!"
"Ow! Let go of me!" She struggled to get free but his grip was tight. Although it wasn't as tight as her father's grip. He had a hold of her in the same spot her father did last night. She knew he was making her bruise worse. She tried to push him away. He grabbed the wrist of her free arm. She repeated, "Let go of me!"
"Yo!" A deep male voice said. "You heard the girl! Let her go!"
Everyone turned to the source of the voice. Two teenaged boys came towards them. One was of average height and had an athletic build. He had black spiky hair. He was wearing sunglasses. The other, the source of the voice, was a tall African-American teen. He was very athletic. Both teens looked angry.
The taller teen repeated, "Let her go! Or do I have to make you?"
The guy holding the girl decided they couldn't win a fight against those two. He let go and shoved her to the ground. He and his two friends ran away.
The two teens that came to her aid, ran over to her. The very tall, very athletic one leaned over her. He offered the dark-haired teen a hand. He said, "Are you ok?"
She accepted his help and shrugged her shoulders, "Yeah, sure."
Gar ran over to them. By now, a teenage girl was now with them. The girl with very long red hair asked, "Are you sure? They did not hurt you?"
Brushing off her jeans she said, "I'm fine." She's suffered worse from her father.
Gar said, "Thanks for helping. Sorry you almost got hurt." She shrugged and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
She picked up her stepped on bag and pulled out a damaged mp3 player. Her shoulders dropped. Great! She'd have to try to fix this one again or somehow buy a new one. To get the money she guessed she could skip lunch for a few weeks. Or she could baby-sit for the ever-bickering twins. She sighed, 'Maybe I should go without mus …'
"Oh sorry," Gar interrupted her thoughts, "want me to replace it since it got broken 'cause you were helping me."
"What? Uh, no, I, I have others," she lied.
"Hello," said the red headed girl. "You are Rachel, correct, Rachel Roth? My name is Kori Anders. Garfield or, Gar Logan is who you tried to help." Gar waved sheepishly to Rachel.
The guy with black hair said, "I'm Richard Grayson. You sure you're alright?"
"Yes."
"I'm Victor Stone. You can call me Vic," said the athletic teen. "Want me to check your wrist; he had a pretty tight grip on you."
Rachel said in a monotone voice, "I'm fine. I should get to school."
Vic asked, "Need a ride?"
Excited, Kori said, "Yes, that way we could talk and get to know one another more. We could become better friends."
Rachel looked at each of them.
Richard said, "You're not worried we'll hurt you, are you? We helped you. Let us give you a ride to school."
"Thanks," said a monotonous Rachel, "I'll walk." She tossed her bag over her shoulder and headed towards school. The four remaining teens stood confused as they watched Rachel walk away.
With hurt feelings, Kori said, "Why does she not wish to be our friend? I want everyone to be friends. We mean her no harm."
"Yeah," said Gar as he scratched his head, "what's her problem? We only want to give her a ride to school."
Richard shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. I guess she's used to being alone."
Vic kept watching Rachel as long as he could. He shook his head. "The girl's hurting. It'll take awhile for her to open up." Everyone agreed. Their thoughts were on Rachel as they went to school. They had all heard the rumors about what Rachel went through at school. They knew she's bullied. They knew what that was like. During different times in their lives, they've each gone through some degree of bullying.
Approaching the school, Rachel eyed the two-story brick building and all the students. She noticed her "friends" from the park have arrived. An excited Kori waved to Rachel. Rachel didn't return the wave; instead, she crossed her arms. She rolled her eyes, 'Great. Second week of school and things are turning out to be wonderful. It's going to be a long year.' She let out a drawn out sigh as she joined the masses entering the school.
Rachel's day continued like any other day. She was taunted and avoided teachers and her tormentors. She avoided her teachers as much as possible. She didn't know what or if they suspect anything about her home life. She was afraid if anyone reported it to the officials; her life would be a living hell. That's why it's better to be alone; no one would know her secret.
But today she was also trying to avoid her new "friends". At least one of they seemed to be everywhere she was. They weren't following but her it seemed that way to Rachel. She was noticing them more. Rachel knew who they were. She knew they were popular; or that was, more popular than she was. There weren't many who were less popular than Rachel. 'Why would they want to be my friends? It must be a trick or a dare,' thought Rachel. She continued her day trying to go unnoticed.
When Rachel got home, she goes home to an empty house. Either her father was working late or he was having dinner with a client. Rachel had a very simple supper. She's not a good cook and she relied on microwave food. Nothing was in the freezer, so she had a peanut butter sandwich. Rachel made her plain meal as her father was having a steak dinner with a client.
Not knowing what type of mood her father would be in; Rachel decided to finish her homework in her room. There she could lock the door and be safe. While reading, she heard her father come home. She heard. him open a bottle of campaign. From the sound of things downstairs, the dinner meeting went well.
