A/N: Thank you very much to all who reviewed, and to those who have set an alert to follow this budding story. When I get the time, I shall thank you all personally.
Grounded
He might have skipped classes, ditched musical rehearsals and tutorials, but he has never gone to drinking and smoking sessions under the bridge by the Don Valley ravine where students from his school hang out, until today. Unfortunately, today of all days, a drama of massive proportion had to happen that brought his Dad and his team of elite police officers to the site.
A masked gunman threatened them and kidnapped his classmate and friend, Joe Stanick. Panic consumed the teens, one has managed to elude the masked gunman and tearfully call 9-11 to report the incidence. Team One, his Dad's Number One Strategic Response Unit raced to their location. Back under the bridge, one of the teens attempted to attack the gunman. A gunshot went off!
Team One heard the shot and worried about what massacre they'd get to but when Team One arrived, they found to their relief that no one was hurt, though Joe was missing. He would later be found.
And he, Clark Lane, was sprung! First Officer Ed Lane found him! If looks could kill! And if words could cripple! His Dad didn't shout obscenities, didn't low ball him but the sound of the disappointment in his Dad's voice was enough to get him defensive. Not my fault, your fault! Now I got your attention, haven't I?
What happened to the money your Mum was giving you for music lessons? The question rang in his ears as he was escorted home in a police car. He steeled himself for the defiance that was to come. He would be grounded that's for sure! But so what!
First Officer Lane kicked himself in the gut. My son, my own son! But he has a job to do, a life to save, and a family crisis to attend to on top of that. Welcome to my world! He will have to sort him out - later - after Team One gets to the bottom of what the hell just happened and why a young man was now missing.
Clark arrived home as Sophie, his Mum, was breast-feeding his baby sister, Izzy.
She glanced up from the bub in the crook of her arms, "Hi Clark," she greeted him with a smile, unaware of what just happened back at the Don Valley ravine. "What's up?"
He huffed. Sophie was taken aback. She was used to him grunting in reply to just about any question she raised; or for that matter, any conversation started. But a grunt was not a huff.
"Clark" she called out as the young man raced up to his room, two steps at a time and slammed the door, practically off its hinges. "Clark, what's wrong?"
No answer was forth-coming. Sophie unlatched the baby's mouth from her teat, carried her up to the second floor landing to inquire of her first born. She knocked on the door, gently at first. Called out his name, gently at first, too.
But the icy silence in the other side of the door gave rise to anger. "Clark! Open this door, right now or I'm calling your Dad."
"Go away!" he said finally. "I just want to be left alone."
That was better than silence, Sophie thought. She sighed glanced down at the bub sleeping in her arms, oblivious to the family drama. She padded away from Clark's door, put the baby down in her crib. As she existed Izzy's room, she gave Clark's door a lingering look. She tapped her foot a few times, undecided whether to push the issue or not. She decided, or not.
Heading downstairs, she called her husband, Edward Tucker Lane, the call went to voicemail. Why am I not surprised? She left a message anyway knowing he probably won't have time to listen to it until he gets home, by which time, it would be redundant.
Back in his room, Clark called the first person who came to mind. His best friend, Tonette. They've been neighbours forever, their mothers went to the same play groups when they were toddlers, they went to swimming lessons together. They even have a nudie picture together back when they were two. And, they've gone to school from kindergarten together, pretty much going to the same class until they got to high school.
Tonette was like a sister to him, and her three older brothers, his best mates, too. But Tonette was the one person he could relate to all the time. Bounced ideas with and generally muck around me.
"Hey, you." She always has that spark in her that makes him smile.
"Hey, yoo, too."
"What's up? Why weren't you in music rehearsal AGAIN?! You've missed out. First, we have a new girl. Her name is Grace. Pretty awesome on the piano and pretty beautiful, too. You'd just be bowled over!" She talks a hundred miles a minute. Clark listened, enjoying the incessant chatter. The silence on the other end caught her attention and finally twigged all wasn't right in Clark's world. Normally, he'd be grunting, at least!
"Are you alright, Clark?" Finally, I got her attention.
"No, I'm grounded!"
"Why? What happened?"
"It's a long story."
"Hey, I got all night, buddy."
Clark smiled to himself as he stretched on the bed. His right arm folded and rested on top of his forehead to steam the pounding headache. It's not helped by the fact that he's feeling dehydrated. Very dehydrated from the alcohol, no lunch, no water to drink. But no, he's not helping himself. From this day on, he's barricading himself in his room.
"Right, I'm coming over. See you in a minute."
Lanky Tonette hanged up, jumped off the couch and yelled out to her Mum, "I'm goin next door, Mum. Clark's in trouble."
"Ok, give my love to him. Oh, take some of the biscuits to Sophie will you? Remind her it's girls' shopping day tomorrow."
"Sure Mum," she grabbed a tray of freshly baked biscuit, slipped on a pair of old Converse shoes and was away.
"Sophie," she called as she turned the knob of the front door.
The exhausted Mrs Lane popped up from behind the kitchen counter, "Yes, Tonette."
The young girl skipped over to her, at 5'8 she towered over Mrs Lane, and in fact an inch taller than Clark. "Here," she said, as she thrust the tray of biscuits in Sophie's hands, "and Mum said to remind you tomorrow is your shopping day." Sophie smiled.
"I'm going to Clark's room," she said, not asking permission.
She raced upstairs. Sophie heard her knock on his door, and the door opening. She shook her head and wondered what it would take for her young man to open his door to her as he does to his best mate.
"So tell me," Tonette said as she jumped into his bed, shoes and all.
"Could you not do that?" he said.
"Do what?"
"Your filthy shoes on my bed!"
"Sorry."
Tonette stayed in Clark's room until they heard Sophie call them to dinner. "I better go home," she said sounding a little reluctant. "It's gonna get better, trust me."
Clark, no surprises there, refused to leave his room to eat causing his father to comment, to his wife and to everyone who cared to listen, that he could talk career criminals to surrender but couldn't get his son to come out of his room.
Three days later, Clark still wasn't leaving his room, prompting Tonette to tell him off. "You're grounded you know, it means you can't leave the house for no reason. It doesn't mean you can't leave your room. That's entirely different."
He gave his friend a dagger look and simply said, "Whose side are you on?"
"Yours, of course, when you're not acting stupid. Anyway, come on, music rehearsal. Time you meet the new girl. We're a trio now, in case you haven't heard."
They walked side by side with Clark half-dragging his cello case and Tonette swinging her flute case. When they entered the music hall, Grace was already practicing on the piano. She with the golden locks, draped beautifully across half her face, dressed in a simple white T-, tight denim jeans and her usual over-sized, unlaced Timberland. She looked up, her blue eyes locking with Clark.
Instantly, they connected. Tonette felt it. She felt her heartbeat skip with a tinge of jealousy. She has always, from when she was a wee one, loved Clark although she was aware that he didn't look upon her anymore than a brother would.
She felt grounded on the floor on which she stood. Recovering she said, "Clark, meet Grace." Swallowing her pain, over what would forever be an unrequited love, the young sixteener pretended to look away.