Disclaimer: Do not own the characters, and I do not own the lyrics "Wonderwall" by Oasis.

Chapter Three: Wonderwall

--I don't believe anybody feels the way I do, about you now--

"So, you been to jail?"

"Too many times to count," Tim replied, shrugging as if it was nothing.

James' face completely dropped. "Wow, that's so cool! What did you go in for?"

Tim looked around to think. Sylvia shook her head in disgust and hoped to hell and back that James didn't actually think going to jail was "cool". The boy would probably be sent to prison soon if he kept this up.

"Once for mouthin' off at a cop, once for my switchblade bein' in my pocket while being searched, once for some gang shit, and--"

"Tim, don't give my brother any ideas," she said, although knowing he had gone in for much worse things.

He smiled that crooked smile. She felt her stomach's butterflies starting.

James played with his comb. "You know, Mom's convinced I'll never be picked up by the cops. She thinks I'm a good boy, an' that I won't ever get into the gang stuff." He snorted. "My mom's kinda dumb."

"James," Sylvia said, "don't call Mom dumb."

He shrugged.

She snuggled closer to Tim. "What are you doing Friday?"

"Probably something with the boys."

"Huh. What about Saturday night?" She traced her finger slowly across his chest, hoping somehow she could convince him to do something with her.

He shook his head. "Saturday? I told Curly I'd take him out. Dunno when I'll be done."

"Well, why don't--"

"Shit. I got plans with David."

"You need an organizer or something," Sylvia half-joked, placing her ear on his chest to hear his heart beating. "Jesus, what do I gotta do to spend some time with you? When're you free?"

"I dunno."

She rolled her eyes.

"Tim," James asked, "are you stayin' for supper?"

Tim stretched and yawned. "Nah. Wish I could, buddy. Curly said somethin' about--"

"Stay," Sylvia complained, grabbing his arm.

He stood up from the couch. "I'll call ya later, all right?"

--

"Sylvia, settle down!"

Linda was laughing carelessly as Sylvia took the bottle of beer firmly to her lips. She hadn't drank too much in her life--twice, maybe--and this time around, it was great to be gone from the real world.

Linda was never much of a drinker, either, but Sylvia knew she was having some family problems.

It was good to escape sometimes.

"Oh my God, you look crazy."

Sylvia laughed. "Well, you look like you could use another drink."

"I'm kinda mad at my parents right now," Linda said after a few moments of silence, then stood up and walked around. "They told me they don't want me seeing Joseph, because he wants all the wrong things from me. After maybe the hundredth time they told me that, I told them he already slept with me, so they must be wrong."

The blond smiled. "Really?"

"Yeah. They think they can control my life or something. It's annoying."

Sylvia played with the locket around her neck. "I know what you mean." At least you have a dad.

"I wonder what they'd say if they found out I'm drinking."

"They'd probably tell you not to do it."

The two of them laughed. Sylvia was lying on a couch, holding her locket with her right hand and a bottle of beer with her left. Linda ended her laughter and frowned. She must have been having some big problems, because the more she talked about it, the more emotional she became.

"I think my parents are sick of each other, 'cause all they do is fight."

At that point, Sylvia realized Linda must have been talking to herself.

"They're really…I don't know."

The door opened. The blond wasn't completely alarmed when Linda's parents walked into the living room, a shocked look on their faces. Linda put on the same expression, and then hid the bottle of liquor behind her.

"Mom, Dad! I thought you were coming home tomorrow!"

"What are you doing, young lady?" Mrs. Green shouted, putting her hands on her hips.

"I was just--"

Mrs Green snapped, "You are sixteen years old, Linda Susan Green! What is a girl like you doing drinking in my house?"

"Sylvia, I think we should call your parents," Mr. Green suggested with a lighter tone.

The blond nodded and followed him into the kitchen, looking back with guilt at Linda, who had tears in her eyes as she looked up at her mother.

After a short telephone conversation, Beth drove over in a hurry to drive Sylvia home, and she seemed calm while driving.

"I understand you're upset about your father," she was saying, glancing at her daughter with a concerned look on her face. "But alcohol doesn't solve anything."

They pulled into their driveway. Through the drive, Sylvia felt a sick feeling in her stomach.

Bill had such an angry face when the two entered the house, it was almost scary.

"Sylvia, what the hell were you doing?"

She shrugged. "I just--"

"You were drinking. Why?"

"I don't know. 'Cause no one was there and the cabinet was filled with bottles."

He shook his head. "Drinkin' gets you no where in life, Sylvia. You might be going through a hard time right now, but drinking at your age could damn well turn you into an alcoholic, and you have no idea what that does to--"

"Why does it matter?" she asked, getting angry herself.

"Because it can--"

"No, I mean you ain't my father," she said. "Why should it matter to you?"

He crossed his arms. "Anything that matters to your mother matters to me."

"That's such bullshit."

"Sylvia!" Beth shouted. "Don't curse."

"Why does it matter?" she yelled, turning around to face her mother. "It doesn't. None of you know what it's like to lose a parent, and--"

"My father was killed in the war, and I went on," Bill said. "There's nothing you can do about situations like these, Sylvia, so picking up a bottle of beer won't do anything."

She shook her head. "You ain't my father, you can't tell me what to do!"

"Don't say that," Beth warned, but Sylvia ignored her.

"And, Bill, if you ask me, I think you can't say shit when it comes to drinking."

"I haven't drank in years, Sylvia."

"Well, you're--"

He shook his head. "Quit being so ungrateful! You're spoiled rotten, and Beth won't even discipline you the way she damn should!"

"Spoiled rotten?"

Beth put her hand on Sylvia's shoulder. "Sweetheart, I think you should stop."

"Who don't you tell him to stop? He called me an ungrateful, spoiled rotten bitch!"

"I didn't say--" Bill started.

Sylvia groaned with frustration. No one understood what she was going through. Sometimes she would be completely fine, no worry in the world, but sometimes she would have small outbursts like these and they reminded her of her anger towards Jon's death.

It just wasn't fair.

She shook her head, feeling tears come, and walked up the stairs.

--

"I just can't believe they'd do that," Sylvia said, shaking her head. "I mean, does your stepfather get mad at you for drinking?"

"My step dad wouldn't care if I was dead in a ditch," Tim replied, digging through his fridge, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "You should be glad Bill's worried about you. You was just complaining last month that they don't pay enough attention to you."

She swung her legs. "Well…I guess…"

"Speakin' of parents, mine ain't home."

He walked over to her and kissed her neck. She giggled and playfully pushed him. "Tim, stop!" She laughed.

Angela ever-so-politely cleared her throat from the couch. Sylvia's smile faded quickly. She hopped off the countertop and looked at Tim.

"You wanna go to my room?" he asked, and she nodded.

He took her hand and led the way to down the hall. Angela was shaking her head at them, but Sylvia was used to her.

When they entered his room, she sat on the familiar bed and sighed. "You know what Bill said? He said I'm an ungrateful bitch."

"That's my everyday life," Tim said casually, sitting beside her and moving her hair away from her neck.

"It pisses me off."

"C'mon, I know what'd make you feel better," he said, kissing her neck again.

She giggled and lay on her back. Tim always knew what made her feel better. He was so bold when she was upset, and he was so dependable. Every time she wanted him, he was there. Beth wasn't that way at all. She had to deal with Judy and James. Bill obviously didn't worry about her, and Jon was unable to look after her. Tim ran a hand up her skirt and she smiled.

Tim knew how to take care of her.

--

Bill was sitting on the couch with his arm around Beth when Sylvia came into the house. Beth looked back at her and smiled, but the blond immediately went upstairs without a word to them.

She heard Beth sigh on her way.

"I don't know what to do with her," she said to Bill.

"You should just ignore her for a few days," he replied, as if he knew shit about her. "She might be a little emotional. C'mon, we should get to bed."

Sylvia hurried down the hall and went into her room. She heard footsteps and prepared for Beth to come into the room and comfort her. Sylvia held her locket.

But Beth didn't come in. Beth had gone straight into the master bedroom with Bill.

--

A/N: Looks like Sylvia's having trouble dealing with things now. Next chapter someone familiar is making a special appearance : )