Wearing a pair of low riding painted on jeans and a long sleeve black Henley with a thick worn gray zippered hooded sweatshirt thrown atop it tucked into a pair of combat boots, she looked every bit as angst driven MC progeny she was raised to be. Deciding that it was best to handle it all at one time, the words simply tumbled out of her mouth as she faced down her teacher and mentor.

"I don't think that I'm going to be needing that ride to Oakland this Friday Mrs. Peterson," Grace said, trying not to fiddle with the strap of her backpack but failing at biting her lip. Throwing her disruptive chocolate cherry curls away from her forehead with the ringed fingers of her right hand, she took a deep breath and steadied herself for what was about to come. Mrs. Peterson, for all her swell intentions and good graces made it no secret just how she felt about the lifestyle the Winston's were involved in.

The teenager could give her grace for that. To the outside, she know what they looked like, a bunch of white trash thugs halting progress who operated outside the law and to some extent that was true. However, there was a certain sort of respected genius and camaraderie that glued it all together. SAMCRO wasn't for everyone. She was SAMCRO- born and bred. Her father was First 9, Piney Winston was an alcoholic, an ornery cuss, but loyal to a fault. And he had raised her to be just that. But that wasn't all she was. Grace, from a young age, knew she had the potential to be something else. Not different. Not more. Just else.

She wasn't like Opie and Jax and Tiki who only wanted a Harley and a kutte from the time they were five. There were only three things those three excelled at: pussy, bikes, and outlaw green. Well, two for Opie as his marriage to Donna had put him out of the pussy commission a couple years back. Mrs. Peterson could never really truly understand just how difficult it would be to leave the only life she's really ever known. She watched the transformation play across the other woman's face- shock, confusion, frustrated.

Then just like that her Senior English Literature teacher turned concerned and composed and stacked a new set of papers on her desk before crossing her arms and pulling her eyebrows together in a question that reeked of curiosity and suspicion, "What's going on Grace?"

"With everything being the way that it is. I don't think that college is all that important right now."

Any statement couldn't have been truer for her life right now in that very second. In the span of roughly 36 hours her entire life plan had completely unraveled. No more college. No more getting out of Charming with her best friend. She was going to have to break up with Jason- honestly it had been a long time coming. Not to mention how she was going to tell...everybody. A shit storm was about to hit the fan and for a brief thirty seconds she thanked God Opie was in prison so he wouldn't kill her.

Seeing the surefire determination on the small girl's face, Mrs. Peterson knew she might be gearing up to fight a lost battle. Grace Winston was a bright student. One of the brightest she had seen in her fifteen years of teaching to be honest. She was capable of so much more than not going to college. She knew it would be rough, what with her SAMCRO background at all but she thought that the girl honestly had a chance of escaping that white trash biker enclave.

That was until last fall when her older brother had been arrested for arson and was now serving out a long term prison stay. Opie Winston had left behind a wife and two young children. She had a sneaking suspicion that was a huge factor if not the primary reason why Grace was thinking about putting her life on the backburner, to stay and help her sister-in-law. As Donna had no family, at least none that was willing to help. And if she stayed, well it would go without saying that Grace would never leave. Situations like that, people like that, had an incredible way of constantly sucking and locking you in to the repetitive rush and drama. It was honestly almost a miracle that Grace had made as far as she had. Valedictorian, Tutor, Cheerleader.

"Grace, if this is about your brother…your family, I'm sure they wouldn't want to hold you back-"

"They wouldn't be holding me back. They're my family," she snapped. We're supposed to look out for each other. Besides, I might be the one who needs some looking after, she thought to herself while trying to maintain a neutral position in her body language. Taking a deep breath, she begin to launch herself into a vague but simple explanation, "College can wait Mrs. P. My family can't. I can take some classes at Lodi Community and transfer into a bachelors program later. I just wanted to let you know. I know you've poured into me a bit, looking over my application essays and writing my recommendation letters so I don't want you to think that I'm not grateful because I am…but I got a lot on my plate right now. I need my family. I mean, we need each other right now."

Stepping out from behind her desk, Mrs. Peterson felt her heart rate begin to escalate as she listened to exactly what Grace had just said. In the past couple of months, the stout middle-aged mother of four had done a lot of listening to Grace. About her mother, who never came around, and about SAMCRO who was the glue of her life but that's all she would say about the MC. And what she just heard just then wasn't just about Grace's brother and him being locked up. Deciding that at this point it was completely worth the risk, she pressed, "Why don't you want to go to college anymore Grace?"

"I already told you, my family is more important," she emphasized.

"When you say family are you talking about your brother and your sister-in-law and your niece and your nephew? When you say family are you talking about SAMCRO? Or is there something else that this is about Grace?"

Years of being reared by Gemma Teller-Morrow kicked into a gear and Grace, almost reflexively, was able to remain passive. She shifted her feet and widened her stance and crossed her arms over her tender chest before lifting a perfectly arched eyebrow. Without hesitation, the seventeen-year-old answered with the maturity of a woman twice her age, "I told you once that the only reason I'm doing you this courtesy of telling you about my decision is because you've been a great teacher and I felt like you'd earned the right to know. However, I don't see the need for you to bring up my brother or SAMCRO again, Mrs. Peterson because quite frankly my reasons are my own."

"Okay Grace," the blonde sighed, caressing the chain of her cat eye glasses that hung around her neck, "I didn't mean to upset you but I am just concerned you might be making a rather important decision based on your emotions. I want what's best for you and so I am going to ask that you really think this through and Friday morning if you still don't want to go to the interview then I will personally call and inform the admissions board of your decision."

"I appreciate that Mrs. P. See you tomorrow," she offered with a gracious but tense smile and with that, she turned on her heel and marched herself straight out of room 1102 to the school parking lot and climbed in her navy blue 1977 Ford Bronco and slammed the door, dropping her backpack on the floor before leaning over on the windshield, wrapping her arms around her stomach and bursting into tears.

She didn't think it would be so difficult to actually have that conversation. She had been prepping for it all day, barely able to focus on anything and everything else because it was officially the death of a dream and picking up a new one. It wouldn't be so bad. Things weren't just all about her now. Damnit, how the hell did this all happen? Everything felt like it was over. This wasn't supposed to be her life, not yet anyways. And it all happened because she was stupid. So stupid that she couldn't get her little school girl crush on her brother's best friend under control.

Okay let's be honest here Grace, you didn't exactly put up that much of a fight. That much of a fight? You didn't fight at all! One kiss and you just caved like one of those pathetic croweaters. Okay so that wasn't exactly the case. She wasn't a croweater. She was First 9 progeny. And he hadn't actually treated her like a croweater, even if she had acted like one. Her dad was going to kill the both of them. Oh and Gemma…dear God, she didn't even want to think about Gemma. This was a nightmare. She wasn't ready for a baby and she was sure as shit that he wasn't ready for a baby either. She was about to screw so many people over. Natalie, her best friend, had uttered those words not her 36 hours ago over burgers and fries in Stockton.

The two had skipped school (only the second time that she had actually done it) to drive to Stockton for her to terminate her pregnancy. But she couldn't do it. She didn't know how she would live with herself if she had to see and know Jax Teller for the rest of her life, knowing she had terminated this pregnancy without even telling him about it. Then she had started to think about a little boy who was the spitting image of Jax. Or a little girl, with her hair and his eyes. About said kid growing up with Kenny and Ellie. About Gemma spoiling her kid to death. And the more she thought about it, the more she thought about people who have gotten knocked up at seventeen and their lives turned out fine. Maybe harder but fine. And at this point, with a father whose prison stints she could count on one hand, a brother currently serving time, and the war years of the 90s with the Mayans in her childhood memory, harder was a concept she was used to. And the more she thought about how much a warrior she was, she thought about what it would be like to have a piece of Jax.

Grace had loved Jax Teller with his panty dropping smile and intellectual biker mentality ever since she could remember. It hadn't been much of a secret in her early years. JT used to tease her about it and said that one day Jax would come around. Gemma had warned Jax when he was a teenager to chill out with the playful jibing and flirting. And her old man had promptly told her she'd better find someone else to crush on. She remember how busted up Jax had been when Tara left and how busted up she had been watching him plow his way through cheap booze, grass, and cheap pussy. She had never been more grateful for anything as when he had come to his senses and pulled his act together. So when thought about Jax- his smile, his eyes, his hugs, his kiss, his words of encouragement, his steadfast love and loyalty to her brother and to her- coupled with everything else, she simply could not go through with it.

That's why, Natalie had told her she was about to screw so many people over. Because she was keeping the baby. She didn't even know what or how she was going to tell Jason, or her father, or her brother, or her sister-in-law who she currently lived with and had two kids on her own, or Gemma, or Jax, or anybody that really mattered. She wished she could just put them in all in one place and tell them all at one time and deal with it all at once. But she was practical and that just was not realistic. So, with Natalie's help she developed a game plan.

Make a doctor's appointment

Tell Jax

Tell everybody else (preferably in the order of Donna, Gemma, Piney, Jason, Opie)

Ask Dr. Lincoln if he could increase her part time hours now just a wee bit and then hire her as full time staff at the veterinarian clinic instead of just as a seasonal hire for the summer

Enroll at Lodi Community College

Even with a solid plan, Grace was nervous as fuck because numbers 2 and 3 on that list were a lot easier said than done but she had to get it out of the way because sooner or later people were going to notice. The baby was conceived on New Year's Day and Valentine's Day was this weekend.

Bucking up, she wiped the tears off her face, bringing half of her mascara with the action and took a sobering breath. She could do this. She was going to do this. And she would do it with or without Jax. She was not going to be a statistic like all those hypocritical Charming naysaying residents prophesied. Terrified but determined, Grace suddenly felt older than just seventeen.