A/N: I have the best beta in the world, elbeewoods! No words can do her justice. Thank you, laura-maeve, for your insight and encouragement.
I own nothing.
Jax detested high school. He only attended so the truant officer would stay off his back and away from Teller-Morrow. The clubhouse was still recovering from JT's death; the last thing he needed was some social worker nosing around and preaching how a good education could open doors for him. Jax hated it when the school workers implied that SAMCRO was synonymous with redneck thugs and wasn't good enough for someone with "his promise." What the fuck was that supposed to mean? That any man sporting a kutte couldn't possibly be a smart, productive citizen or worthy of the town of Charming? It was because of SAMCRO that drug trafficking was nonexistent in the town. The Sons of Anarchy kept Charming's business district crime free and various gangs from getting too comfortable within Charming's borders. Above all, his father JT had always preached a "brains before bullets" philosophy that prevented the club from getting too bloody. Jax was proud of SAMCRO and knew his path towards it was practically cemented in stone. And this was one road that didn't require 60 credit hours or a shiny white cap and gown.
But stepping into school each day and actually studying were two very different things. The staff at Charming High knew Jax had been biding his time until he could drop out, but now with the death of his father, the teachers didn't expect Jax to last through the semester. Jax didn't expect he would, either. The only rope he had left tying him to school was his best friend, Opie. Opie was in limbo, too – waiting for his time to prospect for the club so his life could actually start. Jax took comfort in the fact that his best friend was in the same boat himself. Jax often thought if Opie wasn't at school with him he would go absolutely insane.
Jax took his time walking to third period, his distinctive swag causing his classmates to part and make way as he strolled by. As he made his strides, Jax surveyed the asses of the few female classmates he hadn't introduced to his bed. Hell, he thought – if he had to be at school, might as well enjoy the scenery and tag some bushes.
In fact, he was so intent on returning Tricia Moore's stare he didn't notice the crash heading his way. Suddenly he felt a hard, stiff pressure across his chest and heard the heavy thump of books dropping. It startled him for a moment until he heard a scathing, "Some help, Teller," rolling off of a female voice. He was taken aback, not recognizing the way his name was called. His family and close friends called him Jax. His teachers and other authority figures addressed him as Mr. Teller.
Jax was met by a set of angry green eyes as he leaned down to help clean up the mess. Before now Jax had always thought he preferred blondes, but what he was confronted with made him question his previous choices. The girl was the exact opposite of what he usually tilted towards. This face wasn't tan-obsessed like most of the other girls. Hers was smooth and dewy and almost porcelain in color. Her hair was long, thick, and a deep chocolate brown. Jax felt himself wanting to thread his fingers through the strands to feel if it was as silky as it looked. Now Jax understood how Snow White had been able to knock her stepmother off her pedestal. He looked down, actually worried he would be caught gawking at this mystery girl, and tried to concentrate on clearing the floor of her folders and papers. But Jax's hands were shaky and he was actually slowing down the process. When the girl's books were replaced, haphazardly, into her waiting arms, Jax tried to conceal his embarrassment by giving his best smirk. "Let me make it up to you, darlin'," Jax drawled in his trademark, panty-dropping voice.
The girl responded in a huff. "Maybe the next time you'll focus on what's in front of you instead of your next screw." Jax could only stare at her as she tossed her hair and stomped off. He couldn't believe the amount of attitude coming from this chick. What had he done to deserve that? The only female that spoke to him that way was his mother, Gemma; no other girl would even consider it. Jax couldn't decide whether to be amused or annoyed as Opie and Donna walked towards him. "Ouch…that was harsh," Opie chuckled while Donna hid a smile behind her hand. Jax looked at them, completely confused. "What the fuck was that?"
"Guess the famous Teller swag finally met its kryptonite, " Donna laughed. The more Jax thought about it, the more pissed he became. Jax was normally unflappable when it came to women; he'd had more dalliances with the weaker sex at 16 than most men would have in their lifetime. And yet, Jax had allowed a virtual nobody to twist him up and then chew him out in less than five minutes. And then she just left. Even worse, he didn't know her name.
"Do one of you plan on enlightening me? Who the hell was that?" Jax kept his voice down, but Opie and Donna could hear his increasing irritation.
"Jax, that's Tara. Tara Knowles." Jax looked completely lost. "Tara's part of our class. She's nice." Donna rolled her eyes. "Don't you pay attention to any girl who's not a double D?"
Jax didn't bother to try to look offended; he was too busy processing the name. Knowles? The only Knowles he knew was Gerald Knowles, and he never seemed sober enough to be able to raise a kid.
Jax walked beside Opie and Donna until his friends entered their classroom, then bolted down the hall towards a small, cluttered storage room that was usually unoccupied. Jax closed the door after ensuring its emptiness, and placed his weight on top of an abandoned desk. Jax lit a cancer stick as he contemplated how more and more this room was becoming a refuge: from Gemma's domineering, his teachers' pitying looks, Clay's continuing presence, the list went on and on.
It had been six months since JT had passed, but Jax still felt like he could barely breathe – the shadow of his father produced an unyielding grip that he couldn't shake off. Each day held a reminder of the hole that JT had left in everyone's life. Jax jumped every time his home phone rang, half expecting it to be a call from Ireland. The sight of Piney, scowling and walking alone, reminded Jax of the best friend Piney had lost. Jax himself had lost a mentor and idol. Jax had lost the long talks he held with his father during all hours of the day and night. JT had a gift for words that always managed to soothe Jax no matter what his problems were. And it was because of JT that Jax loved to read, and the two would debate about books and their meanings for hours while inspecting and repairing cars.
SAMCRO seemed to be at a loss, and freely acknowledged that Jax was heir to the MC legacy, as if trying to remind themselves that Clay as the new President was only temporary. Jax always felt the underlying whisper of those words – that somehow he was expected to change SAMCRO. What was he supposed to do with that knowledge? Jax tried to respect Clay as the new president of SAMCRO, but his continual presence at his house, along with the closeness between him and his mother, gave Jax a bad taste in his mouth. Clay exuded a subtle craftiness in his personality that was the complete opposite of JT and his raw honesty and he didn't care for it. And how could he ever hope to compare to his father, the smartest, most courageous, and caring man he knew? The questions kept increasing in number and the hurt lingered. But by far the most hurtful thing he'd experienced was on his sixteenth birthday when the brothers had presented him with his Dyna. Jax had tried to mimic the excitement being exhibited by his brothers, but he only felt the pain of JT not being around even more. He knew if JT had been there his father would have presented it to him and it took all he had not to let that sorrow show. This storage room, with its mops, disinfectants, and abandoned furniture, gave Jax a reprieve from the chaos constantly whipping around his mind.
But the calm Jax was used to feeling after settling into this room was replaced by an almost giddy anxiety today. Jax kept racking his brain, trying to conjure up any memories he had of Tara Knowles. She obviously knew who he was – why wasn't the recognition mutual? Jax furrowed his brow, trying to concentrate. A couple of fuzzy glimpses of a young girl with a brown ponytail came into mind. As he strained harder, another memory surfaced that dealt with something about Tara's mother dying. He didn't remember the details except receiving strict instructions from his mother to be "nice," because "God knows she'll need it with that daddy of hers." Jax thought he recalled something about ice cream after that as well, but he couldn't be sure and it sure as hell didn't make any sense. He strummed his fingers on the desk in frustration. None of it made any sense. It was damn near impossible not to know everyone in Charming, it was too small for any mysteries or secrets. And yet here was this girl who had appeared out of nowhere and who had busted his chops in two seconds flat.
Jax allowed his muscle memory to take him back to the clubhouse as he rode his motorcycle beside Opie's. He kept replaying his encounter with Tara Knowles in his mind. Part of him wanted to just dismiss it, rationalizing it as a rant from some drama queen, but the other part didn't want to discount it so quickly. He wanted more information about this phantom girl. Why hadn't she shown up on his radar during high school?
Jax stayed near his bike as Opie went inside the clubhouse to say hi to his father. His sunglasses shielded him from the afternoon sun but didn't diffuse the smell of oil and asphalt emanating from the hubs of the repair shop. Lazily, Jax scanned the bodies of the uniformed crewman as they wheeled under cars and hunched over dirty engines. One of the familiar bodies he surveyed was Lowell's, a kid whose father was a mechanic at the shop. Jax knew Lowell as an underclassman, but other than that, had paid little attention to him at school or at Teller-Morrow.
Jax tried to walk as casually as possible to Lowell, not really wanting to enact the scenario he was about to set into motion, but too curious to stop. Lowell took on a look of surprise and awe when he saw Jax approaching him. Jax grinned. This was exactly the reaction he had been hoping for. Jax reached for his pack of cigarettes with the smoothness of someone who had been smoking for years. He offered Lowell one before lighting one of the sticks with his accompanying Bic. "What's up, Lowell," Jax threw out in a blasé fashion while the boy stuttered his response. Jax tried to think of some casual talk to lead them into his desired conversation, but his impatience wheel barrowed over that plan.
"Do you know a girl named Tara Knowles?" Jax was both amused and panicked at his bluntness.
Lowell seemed startled by the question, and at first didn't know what to make of it. Then, sensing Jax's tension, Lowell responded. "Yeah. She's smart. Really pretty. And nice." Lowell was proud to relay this information, but it irked Jax to no end. It annoyed him for Lowell to call Tara merely pretty when actually she was fucking beautiful. And nice? Donna had said the same thing. Jax tensed at the possibility of Tara saving her venom just for him. Irritated by the whole conversation, Jax spat out, "No fucking shit," and berated himself for even approaching Lowell. When he saw the kid's demeanor change from reverence to defeat, though, he decided to give Lowell a break. "Don't worry about it, I was just asking," Jax threw out as he walked back towards the parked Harleys. Opie was waiting for him as he returned to his motorcycle.
"What was that all about?" Opie looked at Jax curiously. "Just shooting the shit," Jax said, trying to sound as unconcerned as possible. He'd be embarrassed as shit if his oldest friend found out he had tried to pump Lowell for information about a girl. He shrugged. "Just trying to be nice to the little people, " Jax grinned. Together, they started their bikes and were about to roll out of the Teller-Morrow, but stopped at the sight of Lowell running towards them and waving his hand.
"Tara spends a lot of time in the library and volunteers at Charming Gardens." Lowell was breathless as he offered these new tidbits to Jax. Jax was happy to know where he might find Tara away from school, but was irate that Lowell spewed the info in front of Opie. Lowell seemed oblivious to Jax's stiffening jaw, though. In fact, Lowell was expectant, like he deserved a pat on the back from Jax or something. Opie simply sat on his bike with a huge grin on his face.
"You think I didn't know that?" Jax's tone was harsh. "You stopped us for that?" This time he didn't bother trying to sooth Lowell's feelings. He figured he'd save that for another day. Right now he needed to save face in front of Opie, and that meant subjecting Lowell to a tongue lashing.
"Sorry, man, thought you'd want the info." Lowell slinked back to the repair bay as Opie smirked in his direction.
"Just wanted to know where she hangs so I can bring her down to size." Jax used his calmest voice as his foot moved the kickstand. Together they rolled off the Teller-Morrow lot and proceeded to head to Opie's house for the evening.