** THIS IS A SEQUEL TO INTO THE BLACK, WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE: s/12500664/1/Into-the-Black

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ INTO THE BLACK, YOU MAY WANT TO DO SO BEFORE BEGINNING THIS STORY**

**I own nothing you recognize**

"God, I don't ever want to leave here," Tara groans into a cloud of smoke, flopping back dramatically and letting her head land on Jax's stomach. It's a rare warm afternoon for this time of year and they'd taken a ride out to the willow on the Wahewa reservation that had become their 'spot'… one of many, actually, but on nice days like today it had become a favorite for relaxing on a blanket to smoke up, do homework (mostly at Tara's request, though Jax preferred writing), make out (which inevitably led to lengthy bouts of the intense sex Jax had long since expected to become routine but somehow never had), or just talk about any and everything. Tara had finished the joint Jax had handed her seconds ago and flicked the remaining twist of paper away before leaning against him; actually, she'd sort of knocked the wind out of him momentarily- not that he's complaining because she'd been taking his breath away in some way, shape or form since she'd come back to Charming two years ago.

Jax surveys his girlfriend fondly from his vantage point several inches above her; her eyes are closed, her lashes black smudges against those high cheekbones- creamy white save for the light flush inevitably brought on by the weed and the unseasonably warm afternoon. He lets his eyes travel further to her plump lips and he knows exactly what he'd find there if he were to lean down and cover them with his own; Tara had once sat through one of Gemma's more misguided attempts at providing her with a mother figure- a makeup lesson straight from the Queen of SAMCRO- and he'd nearly fallen over when she'd reentered his living room with heavy black eyeliner and dark, burgundy lips. True to form, though, Tara had graciously thanked his mother, waited until she went to her garden club meeting, and wiped off most of the makeup. She'd taken to wearing a little bit on special occasions- not that there were all that many in Charming- but for the most part, his girl's this beautiful all on her own.

With a slight smile, Jax gives in to instinct and curls at the waist to drop a kiss on her lips. As usual, though, a peck isn't enough and he can't resist tracing them with his tongue and sucking her lower one into his mouth; mid-kiss, he notes the lingering smokiness and the faint hint of chapstick- cherry today, he thinks- that he's come to expect and sends up a silent thanks for the absence of the waxy, gooey lipstick or gloss that had been present on the lips of every other girl he'd kissed. Not that there had been that many; some time after Tommy's death, he'd found himself unable to allow himself that closeness with anyone and had developed a sort of blowjob complex, one that had quickly dissipated when Tara had returned to Charming and completely knocked him off his feet. She's just tugging at his lower lip with her teeth- and his jeans are getting uncomfortably tight- when a voice breaks into his thoughts.

"Yup. Still here. Still not into watching." Jax is reluctantly reclaiming his lip- and dropping another feather-light kiss on the upper bow of Tara's- when he hears a soft thud, swiftly followed by Donna's response.

"Stop it, Opie. It was, what, a week ago you caught me telling Tara I hoped we'd keep the passion like they have, and then felt the need to prove it?" Then, Tara's response, still breathy enough to send residual sparks of interest southward- Jax grits his teeth and wills away the hard-on that had made itself known at the sound- floats into the afternoon, her eyes still closed against the warm sun.

"Yeah, the two of you made me blush…" Her voice trails off as Jax skims the back of a finger down the vee of her t-shirt, following the path he's watched her blush spread a thousand times in the past couple years; he bends again, briefly, to whisper in her ear.

"Thought I was the only one that could make you blush." She does color at this, and Jax smirks in satisfaction as he watches the rosy pink hue fill in the invisible trail he'd marked seconds earlier. Ope snorts.

"If there's anything on the face of this planet that can still embarrass you, Knowles, it ain't a little kissing and you know it." Christ, Jax doesn't know whether to laugh or defend his girl's honor… but he knows as well as anyone that he and Tara aren't all that shy when it comes to the PDA, and Ope's been harassing them about it for years. He settles for chucking a nearby clod of grass in his general direction, which Opie easily ducks. Donna rolls her eyes and angles her head upwards, a soft smile spreading as Opie closes the distance between them.

"Well I think they're adorable, and I meant what I said last week, about us." she whispers against his lips.

"What about what you said last night?" Opie returns, a wicked grin crossing his face, and Jax averts his eyes to shoot a knowing look at Tara, who's grinning too and gazing up at him. He's happy his friend is happy, and even though the guy will never freely admit it, he knows Ope's pleased his two childhood best friends seemed to have found their center. That first few months after Tara's return had been nothing short of insane, what with her father's fall, the attempts on JT's life leading up to the accident that had almost killed him, the shit with Clay…

Jax closes his eyes briefly. All the other shit had been bad enough, but aside from his father's accident, the hardest to stomach had been the unwanted history he'd learned about Clay, Gemma, JT, and that Irish woman. Maureen, he has to remind himself, she has a name and so does her kid- Trinity. Your sister. Get used to it, Teller. He'd been trying, he really had, but it's been fucking hard accepting something- someone- he's had no interaction with besides a glimpse at a photo here and there. Even after the whole shit storm had died down between his parents- Christ, that's something he can't think about right now, not if he doesn't want to… No. Not now. He can already see Tara's expression changing, her intuition zeroing in on what she can undoubtedly read in his eyes just as easily as he can read hers, and her hand reaches up to cup his cheek.

"What is it, baby?" Her voice is soft, filled with concern, and Jax curses himself silently for letting his overactive mind wander and cast a shadow on what's been a fucking perfect day so far. He focuses, reminds himself that she'd been the one to see him through all of it, and she's here, now, just like she's always been except for that stretch of seven years right after her mom died. And whatever happens next, he's just as certain she'll be by his side to face it with him; with that thought, Jax smiles and turns his head sharply to brush a quick kiss against her hand before settling back against the tree.

"Nothin', just thinking about what a goddamn hypocrite Ope is, since the two of them ain't shy around us, either." Jax says this loud enough for Opie to hear, though his friend doesn't pull away from Donna for a good several seconds, just flashes an overly large middle finger in Jax's general direction.

"Ain't just us and you know it," Opie says gruffly, finally extracting himself from Donna and leaning back on his elbows. "That's forced to watch you two be all sickeningly sweet, I mean." Donna snickers at this and shifts so that she's leaning back, hands braced behind her, bumping Opie with her shoulder.

"Yeah, you're probably the reason Principal Morgan added 'No PDA' to the cafeteria rules. Not that we're ever in there. And not that it will matter next semester anyway…" Donna seems to catch herself, then, and lets her voice trail off, but it's too late- Opie's face is already darkening, and Jax groans internally.

Ever since he'd told Ope his plans for the second half of their senior year, it had become a point of contention. Granted, the conversation hadn't exactly gone smoothly, but a the time, Jax had been more focused on venting his frustrations with JT than breaking the news gently to his friend, and Ope hadn't taken it well. Christ. Jax runs his hands through his hair in frustration and then allows his head to drop back against the tree. If anything, the conversation with his father had been even more rocky than the one with Ope a few weeks later.

Jax slammed his locker door closed for the second-to-last time as a junior- hell, as a student at CHS as far as he was concerned- and leaned against it with a heavy sigh. Three goddamn years he'd spent in this place, learning shit he'd never have the opportunity or the necessity to use after he finally walks out of these halls for good. Geometry. US History. Chemistry. All completely useless if you asked him- not like he'll need to remember the Pythagorean theorem to fix a bike, or know who Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were to hold the gavel; he also doubted anyone he knew besides Tara will ever find the need to recall shit about noble gases. And Government… he'll learn all he'll ever need to know about the ins and outs of that when he's sitting at the Reaper table with his father and his brothers, so why JT seemed to think Jax needed to sit in some classroom and be preached at by some hack that had probably never experienced anything even close to a Mayhem vote was beyond him.

The warning bell rang, but since he'd been smart enough this year to sign up for 8th period PE/Study Hall, Jax made no move to head to class even though the stream of students that passed him grew more frantic by the moment. He'd taken to cutting 8th period on Study Hall days and meeting up with Ope about the second week of school, and it was a Study Hall day; however, Ope had taken off early to spend the first few weeks of the summer with Mary out in Moreno. Jax, on the other hand, had one more final exam to sit through, but he wasn't planning on having to show up for it; not after the conversation he was about to have with his father.

As he walked out of CHS for- hopefully- the last time, Jax tried to ignore the feeling that he was somehow leaving Tara behind… even though he was if you wanted to be literal about it; she was still in there, somewhere, poised to ace some final she'd been preparing for the last two weeks. Donna had promised to give her a ride home afterward, which left him a relatively small window to talk to his father at TM. Not that she didn't know he'd been considering this, but he was anxious to have JT's blessing and a solid plan in place the next time it came up.

Jax sat back on the Dyna, sighed as he clipped on his helmet, and fired it up. After their initial conversation regarding his plans for his senior year, Tara had made it clear she thought he was making a big mistake.

"You have so much potential, Jackson. I know you want to follow in your father's footsteps, and I get that, I do. But there's plenty of time to do that; you have your entire life to be SAMCRO. Why would you sell yourself short?"

A GED, she'd argued, would still take time to get, and wouldn't look as good on a job or college application as a high school diploma. He'd countered that by reminding her that he wasn't planning on having to apply anywhere- he'd work at TM, prospect, and be a fully patched member by the time she graduated high school. Deep down, both of them knew that the crux of the matter was what would happen once Tara inevitably went to college and Jax gained more responsibilities within the club… but neither had the heart to bring it up- not when it seemed so far away. Until then, Jax figured, they'd make it work- she'd go to school, he'd prospect, and they'd tackle the issue of what came after high school when it arose. Right then, though, he had more pressing issues- convincing his father that education wasn't the be-all-end-all he thought it was, at the top of the list.

JT had been in Belfast for the past couple weeks- ostensibly moving SAMCRO into the next phase of his plan to halt the gun-running up and down the West Coast- and had returned late the night before. Said plan involved a series of complex maneuvers Jax wasn't privy to, but at least JT had the full backing of his club this time, since Clay's poisonous whispers had been snuffed out.

Since the whole situation with Clay had ended, JT had kept his lips sealed on club business, so what little Jax knew, he'd managed to learn by overhearing snippets of conversation between his parents or club members, and piecing them together like a goddamn jigsaw puzzle. It was fucking maddening, and- aside from his desire to get the fuck out of CHS and finish prospecting before Tara graduated- was at the top of Jax's list of reasons he was practically dying to prospect. So, he'd chosen his moment carefully, timed it to coincide with JT's return from Belfast. Because although he'd primarily been there to settle up club business, he'd also been to meet Trinity- his daughter, Jax reminds himself- for the first time, and would likely be feeling his fair share of guilt about the whole goddamn thing… and would hopefully also be much more likely to appease his only remaining son.

It had taken months for Gemma to come to terms with the news, and even longer for Jax; Christ, he'd barely been ready to return to his parents' house after the affair itself had come to light, but then he'd found that letter and shit had spun so far out of his grasp that he hadn't talked to his father for weeks, had only returned to his house to refill his duffel bag. It was Tara who'd finally broken through his veneer of grim, barely-contained anger and convinced him to talk to JT, who- as it turned out- really hadn't been aware he'd had a third child somewhere in Ireland. It was only the knowledge that there hadn't been yet another secret, another lie- that and the eventual relaxing of the unbelievable tension between his parents, the return of the soft looks and teasing in place of the stiff conversation and awkward silences- that had thawed his feelings towards JT.

Still, though, Jax wasn't above using this visit to further his own interests. Besides, once his father saw reason, once he heard Jax's list of proof positive that the timing was right now that the Teller family and the club are back on solid ground, there was no way the conversation wasn't going to end in Jax's favor. Especially since JT himself had laid out the one thing that had to happen before Jax could prospect- the club moving into a safer place, and nobody could argue that that hadn't happened over the past year.

As Jax pulled into the lot, he smiled a bit at the sight of his father's Harley back in its spot at the front of the line of bikes. It had taken months of physical therapy for JT to regain the balance and strength necessary to ride- not to mention his vote at the Reaper table- and another couple for him to actually vote yes the third time Piney had brought his reinstatement to President to the table. Add in a trip to Belfast and the fact that he and his father hadn't really spent much time together lately, and… well, he hadn't had a lot of time to reflect on all of that shit, but he was glad to have his father back in place before he started prospecting, for sure.

Kozik nodded as Jax strode across the lot, and Jax nodded in return, responding in kind to a few waves and a familiar "Ayy, Jackie Boy" that were emanating from the garage area. His father was alone in the office, and thankfully so because he had no real desire to have this conversation anywhere within earshot of his mother- at least until JT could prep Gemma… once his father himself was on board, of course.

"Hey, Son," JT scratched his beard absently and tossed a file folder onto the desk, which was currently littered with similar folders, papers, sticky notes, and a giant Harley-Davidson desk calendar- complete with a girl in a bikini- that should have been thrown out at the beginning of the year. "Surprised to see ya here, thought ya had finals today." Jax shrugged, in what he hoped was a casual fashion.

"Naw. Took 'em all today, and then my final period was study hall so I didn't have to stick around." JT spun the desk chair around to face him and leaned back, settling lower in the chair so he could rest his head against the cracked faux leather; he cocked an eyebrow at Jax.

"No Tara?" Again, Jax shrugged.

"Still takin' a test. Donna's bringing her home after they're done." JT nodded, his eyes narrowing a bit as he seemed to study Jax for a long moment before he responded.

"Somethin' up, Jackson? It ain't like you to drop by here like this, 'specially recently." JT held a hand up to halt Jax's protests. "You ain't spent any real time talkin' to me since before Mo and Trinity happened, and you know it. If you're here, it's usually because you, Ope, Tara, and Donna are gettin' in a round or two of pool before the guys are off for the day, so I'll ask again, Jackson… what's up?" JT waited, patiently, and Jax resisted the urge to roll his eyes, looked away briefly to gather his thoughts before settling on his father once again. Determinedly, he sat on the edge of the ancient futon next to the desk and held his father's gaze. No sense in looking like a pussy, now.

"You were right, Dad. I got shit to say." JT smirked, but it didn't last long before the rest came tumbling out of Jax's mouth like goddamn word vomit. "I'm not goin' back to school in the fall. I've been thinkin' about it all year and I just don't see what good it'll do me, not when I got the garage and the club-"

"No fucking way, Jackson. Didn't you listen to a goddamn thing I had to say about education? And how-"

"-nobody could ever take that away from me…yeah. I got it Dad. I just think it's bullshit." His father's face, usually deadly calm- even in life-or-death situations- distorted in anger and frustration.

"Bullshit? You think it's bullshit, Jackson? I left school before I even had the chance to get started and there are very few things I regret more than that- only the shit I've done that's hurt you or your mother eats at me more." Jesus, if his father clenched his jaw any tighter, he'd grind his teeth to powder. The only problem was, Jax was angrier.

"What the fuck are you talking about, Dad? You're the smartest person I know- well, maybe you and Tara- always going on about Emma Goldman, and philosophy, and Shakespeare and shit. You just started your real life earlier- went to war, started the club, met Mom, all that shit." JT shook his head again.

"No, Jackson. Everything I know I had to fight for; I read book after book when I was in the Army, on the road… and being smart, having knowledge is a big part of it, yes. It's important to know the history of where we've been as a country, the history of humanity, the logic of those who know far more than me- it's how we learn from others' experiences, part of how we shape our own decisions. But the opportunities an education gives you are the other part of it- I drifted for years, unable to find steady work or put a roof over my head. And anarchy, that ideal, well… that was one reason, but the other was that nobody was gonna hire someone that barely finished the tenth grade. Sure, I liked bikes, knew how to maintain my own, learned along the way how to work on a carburetor, change out a muffler … but that don't mean shit to someone who just wants to hire a certified mechanic so they can keep their goddamn shop open." Frustrated, Jax raised his hands.

"What you have is better than that, Dad. You had the open road, got to live your ideals, and then when shit got real, you opened TM and didn't have to answer to anyone but yourself. That's what I want- that's all I want- a place at the table with you, a job at the garage, and maybe some day, open my own." His father was already shaking his head, and Jax was about to explode at the hypocrisy of it all.

"The open road was a great time, sure. At first. And I told you about how I had to find another path- and quick- when you came along, but how do you think I got the money to buy TM in the first place? Illegal shit, that's how; I had to sell my soul to the devil- to the goddamn IRA- to buy this place and to keep us going. And it's taken years to get out from under them- it almost killed me in the process. I want more than that for you, Son, more than running guns or dirty deals, risking your life to bring in enough cash to stay afloat, and you won't have that option if you drop out. All you'll ever have is this." JT gestured at the office with one hand, pinched the bridge of his nose with the other, as if the whole thing had given him a headache. Jesus Christ, Jax had expected the preaching about getting an education; what he hadn't expected was to run into a goddamn wall. Maybe it was time to switch tacks.

"Dad…This-" he gestured at the office, the garage, mirrored his father's actions from moments before "- is what I want. And it ain't just about bein' a mechanic, you know that. Since I was five, all I've wanted was a Harley and a kutte; I got the Harley, and you know I'm gonna get the kutte. All I'm asking is to get an early start on it- on the kutte, and on my life. I don't need to take Government, or Psychology, or goddamn Calculus for that. I got the guys that can teach me right here- I got the club, and I got you. Even after all the shit with Mom- with Maureen and Trinity… well, my shit- what I want- ain't changed. I want to learn from the best, and I want to do it with my Brothers by my side." At this, JT lurched forward in the desk chair and dropped his head into his hands. Moments ticked by, filled only with muted clanks from in the garage and Jax's own heartbeat- louder than usual, he thought. Still, maybe the comment about Trinity had hit home- it was looking to be his only goddamn hope. At long last, JT tented his fingers, rested his chin on them, and held Jax's gaze with his own.

"This is what you want, because this is all you know, Son. This is all I've been able to give you because of my own choices, and I'll own that. I ain't asking that you change who you are, or what you want out of life; if you finish school and decide that this is still what you want, I'll support that. There will always be room here at the garage for you, never doubt that, and never doubt that whatever decision you make, I love you, Jackson. But this… This, I can't support. I can't- I won't- support you in eliminating all your options but one. If something happens to me- and we both know that in this life, that ain't a stretch- if something happens and we lose the business, you'll be an uncertified mechanic with a GED; there ain't a garage in the country that will take on that risk, not in this day and age. So here's what's gonna happen, Jackson- you're a minor, and I won't be giving permission for you to leave school-"

"I'll be eighteen a week into the school year, Dad-"

"-and if you leave once you hit eighteen, you won't be prospecting in my club- not SAMCRO, and not any other charter." Jax's mouth dropped open; he worked his jaw but couldn't force the words to come out, couldn't make himself voice to his father the endless protests streaming through his head- he'd waited while the club had grown more legitimate, watched as they'd slowly set up business ventures in the area, watched his father gradually work his way out from underneath the Irish Kings' influence. He'd nearly done it, nearly gotten the club back to its original form, nearly eliminated the things that were killing it, and still he didn't want Jax to join? The pain of hearing his father put it into words was like a knife through Jax's heart. Then, Jax saw the flash of pain in JT's eyes, as well.

"I'm not sayin' that because I don't want you, Jackson- I know that's what you're thinking, because you said as much the last time we broached this subject. I want you to be happy, whether that's here in Charming with me, your Ma and the club, or somewhere else; whether that's as a mechanic, or an author, or a goddamn insurance salesman. But this ain't even about what I want, it's about what's best for you- and for your family, one day. So, I'm sayin' it because it's the truth, it's the one exception I won't make; you will finish high school before you'll be allowed to prospect, and you'll at least get a mechanic certification if you want to work here at the garage indefinitely." Jax swallowed. Fuck, he couldn't believe this shit was happening- first high school and then goddamn college? His father continued, still holding him with that piercing stare.

"I'll make you a deal, Son. You graduate and I'll let you prospect, and I know Piney will do the same for Ope; we've been talkin' about it, some. But, you got to keep your options open for what comes next. I'm assuming you discussed this with Tara?"

What? Christ, what did he mean by what comes next? And Tara… they'd discussed it, some, but had mostly left things unresolved. Jax swallowed before replying.

"Uh... we talked about it, but she doesn't know I'm here, now. I just… I figured that by the time she's done with high school, I'd be done prospecting and bringing in some money, and… We'll make it work, Dad." JT shook his head, again.

"So what was your plan, exactly? You stay here, work at the garage and go on runs, and she… does what, Son? Goes off to college somewhere and you visit her on long weekends? Stays here because you did, gets a job as a desk clerk over at the Charming Inn?"

"No, Dad," Jax bit, fiercely, "She deserves to make something of herself, even if that's not here in Charming, and whatever happens, we'll figure it out." Defiantly, he met his father's stare with one he hoped showed that he wasn't backing down.

"And so do you, Son- you deserve to make something of yourself, do what you want with your life… but you won't know what that is unless you know what your options are. So that's why the second part of our deal is this- before you decide what to do, what comes after high school for you, you're gonna take some college classes that got nothin' to do with the garage, see what else is out there. If you decide to stay on here, you can use 'em as general education credits towards getting an associate's degree and your mechanic certification. That way, you can find work anywhere, even if it ain't here. And if you decide to continue on some other path- go to a four-year college, find a job somewhere else- I'll support that, too; you'll be free to transfer to any other charter of the Sons, or go Nomad, or even go inactive, I don't give a shit. But you will have every opportunity I didn't, even if it means we won't be sitting at the same table." And just like that, Jax felt all the fight leave him; Christ, even if he wanted to argue- plead his case, point out his father's shortcomings, his hypocrisy- it wouldn't fucking matter. JT had dug his heels in, and he'd dug them in deep- there would be no convincing him, and as the President of the mother charter, there'd be no way any of the others would go against his wishes. Fuck.

"We clear, Jackson?" Jax nodded, unable to say anything else, the walls of the office seeming to close in… and suddenly, he just needed out- away from his father, away from the prospect of another year at CHS and another year away from his dream. Fuck, JT was still talking.

"…suggest you go talk this over with your girl. She deserves to know what you'll be gettin' yourself up to next school year, and she deserves to be a part of whatever it is you decide after that, too. I know you love her, Son, and you owe her more than we'll make it work." Shit. As much as Jax hated to admit it, JT was right- at least about that much. Besides, nobody was better than Tara at helping him work shit through, and Christ if he didn't have shit to work through.

Jax gave his father the only thing he could manage- a tight nod- stood, and turned to take his leave; he ignored JT's silence, the shouts and catcalls from the other Sons on the lot, the bright sunlight in his eyes… All he could focus on was getting to the Dyna, riding out some of the goddamn tension the prospect of the new -yet somehow mind-numbingly familiar- path his life was taking had produced. And as he rode through the gates of TM, across town, and onto 85, he found that he had no particular destination in mind- not for this ride, and not for the rest of his goddamn life, either.

An hour later, Jax pulled into the Knowles driveway and noted, thankfully, that Rick's Cutlass was still absent from its spot. The man had been halfway pleasant- for him- lately, but Jax still had no desire to endure some forced, stilted conversation, or watch him down his customary pint of whiskey before heading to the bar. In fact, their last conversation had been a semi-tense discussion about Tara's curfew, after which Rick had drained the rest of his liquor, tossed the bottle, then slammed the door behind him. It was something Jax wasn't anxious to repeat.

Jax hung his helmet on a handlebar and let himself in- the house was silent, but tidy, and he'd make a bet that Tara was in her room, studying for her remaining finals. He made his way down the back hallway and pushed open the door to Tara's room; as expected, she was sitting on her bed, surrounded by papers… except, they didn't appear to be study guides. Instead, as Jax got closer, he noted brochures from Charming Community College, Lodi City College, and others; in addition, there were materials from CHS, local businesses, and countless others he couldn't even begin to guess at. And there was Tara, writing furiously in a notebook and definitely unaware of his presence; Christ, she hadn't heard the Dyna?

"Babe?" Tara jumped, nearly dropped her notebook before sighing in relief when she realized who was in her room- he could see her visibly relax as he closed the distance and reached the edge of her bed. Jax grinned, despite himself. "It's only me... who else you expecting to walk in your room and call you babe?" Tara shrugged, but returned his grin with a soft smile.

"Sorry, baby, I was just concentrating, I guess." Jax nodded at all the papers- needing, somehow, to avoid the inevitable discussion about all that had happened between himself and JT for just a little longer.

"What ya doing? I figured you'd be studying for your tests…" He trailed off, noting, for the first time, what she'd been writing in her notebook.

*summer school: Calculus, Advanced Biology, Anatomy?
*fall classes: Anatomy?, Psychology, Government, PE/SH, Physics (2 periods), Trigonometry, ?
*spring: Anatomy? Psychology, Physics (2), Trig
*college (spring): Biology lab? Chemistry I?

Tara glanced up at him, then, followed his eyes to the notebook and colored, slightly. Christ, she almost seemed embarrassed- or even a little guilty. But why? Or maybe he'd misinterpreted it altogether… Then, she spoke, filled in the blanks his mind had produced, and completely fucking blew him away.

"I… Well, I've decided to go to summer school, Jackson." And just like that, Jax could feel his visions of a carefree summer spent with her- at the swimming hole on the reservation, taking long rides in the country, making love under their willow tree- drain away. Jesus, it's as if the world doesn't fucking want him to be happy, or something… Then, he realized she'd continued speaking, "I want to get a head start on my senior year so that I can take a few college level classes in the spring, or even graduate high school early, depending." She paused a moment, studied him before continuing, uncertainly. "I mean, that way, no matter what you decide about prospecting, I'll be ready… for whatever comes next." It was her face- so flushed and uncertain, but simultaneously hopeful and begging, somehow, for his acceptance- that stopped all thoughts about the summer. It was her words- maybe even graduate early- that led him to sit gingerly next to her amongst the scattered papers, an idea forming rapidly; a way to beat his father at his own game, a way to move his life forward but abide by the goddamn rules at the same time. He skimmed her list again before taking her hand in his and asking-

"Can just anyone go to summer school?"

"Jackson!"

He's brought back to reality by Tara hissing his name and jabbing him in the side with a finger. Opie's standing, already, folding one of the blankets and Donna's giving him a desperate look behind Ope's back. Christ…

"Ope…"

"What?" Opie's head snaps around, practically pinning Jax to the tree with a glare. "You need somethin'? Jax shakes his head, feeling the all-too-familiar frustration growing. Why the hell do they have to rehash this shit- again? And why today; why ruin what had been basically the perfect afternoon with the same shit they'd been circling around since last summer?

"What I need is for you to stop going all moody on my ass every time this shit comes up," Jax bites back, letting a sharp edge of irritation creep into his voice. Ope snaps the blanket and folds it again, his motions becoming more and more tense with every word Jax utters.

"Yeah, well, you're probably right. I mean, there ain't shit I can do about it now, is there? Neither of our dads will let us prospect until we graduate, but unlike you, I'm fuckin' stuck at Charming High the rest of the year, because – also unlike you- I got to finish this goddamn vocational shit I got roped into." Jax opens his mouth, but Opie holds up his hand. "And don't tell me any of that shit you got to say about how I'll be better off for it. It ain't that I mind the program, really- Christ, I get to spend half the goddamn day the garage next semester and I got no idea why you didn't do the same thing. But I don't even mind you graduating early, either, and I've fuckin' said that over and over again. It's just… you prospectin' without me… that ain't the way it's supposed to be. I've been told my entire life that you and I, we're born into the club, we're shoo-ins for Pres and Vice Pres, that I need to be there to support you. But if you're gonna do it without me, all of that means jack shit." Opie tucks the blanket under his arm and reaches a hand out to Donna to help her up.

"If you can't understand why I'm goddamn moody about my best friend leaving me in the dust, then you aren't much of a friend. But don't worry- I'll get over it, just like I always do, because what choice do I got? I'll put up with you prospecting alone, you'll put up with me bitching at you occasionally, and life will go on. You comin'?" This last bit is directed at Donna, who nods then shoots Jax and Tara an apologetic grimace as Opie stalks towards the two bikes parked in the distance before following him. Jax lets out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding during Ope's tirade.

"Jesus Christ…" is all he can say. Tara sits up, finally, takes his hand and draws it to her lips, pressing a short kiss to his palm before dropping her cheek into it and giving him a sympathetic smile.

"He'll get over it, baby, like he said. By the time you're both prospects, it won't matter. Or you could always just take college courses with me next semester and prospect in the summer…" Jax shakes his head in frustration.

"We've been over this, babe. I want to be done prospecting by the end of the summer, before you…" he trails off, altogether unsure how the fuck to finish that sentence. "Well, before you do whatever it is you decide to do. I'm doing this for me, yes- to show JT that I can handle it- but I'm also doing it for us. And nobody seems to get that." Tara closes her eyes- her cheek still resting in his palm- and doesn't respond. After a moment, she stands and offers Jax her hand, pulling him up next to her. Silently, they fold the blanket, pocket the lighter, rolling papers and empty Ziploc, and make their way to the Dyna, now sitting alone on the dirt road.

Opie's words- that ain't the way it's supposed to be- seem to echo in his ear all the way back to Charming.

**A/N- So! Here we are! A lot of setup, a flashback, some Opie complaining… Don't worry, the entire story won't be Ope griping, but he and Jax definitely have some things to work out. This being just a prologue (albeit a long-ish one- and how else would you describe most of my other chapters but "long-ish") this is merely the set-up for where Jax is, at the beginning of this story. There's a little Tara, Ope, and Donna, but we'll delve deeper into what's been happening with them coming up. In addition, JT, Gemma, Trinity, and others will be making appearances throughout. Thank you so much for sticking with me, and be sure to follow, favorite, etc. so you get updates if you want them. Also, please leave me a review with any comments or criticisms :) As usual, thanks to Ang R for her constant help.**