Chapter 7
The next morning started off badly for Dallas and progressively got worse. He left work early that day, since he had to meet with a social worker around noon. A certain family member had recently dug up Dallas' police record and it was causing a few doubts with Social Services. Hopefully he could disprove them. He didn't want them taking Jim away from him. They weren't exactly bonding- Jim still only ever addressed him by his name- but they were making progress. And lately Dallas had been wondering how Sarah had been able to manage Jim for the past eight years. He could use her help right now, so much. He was really missing her.
To his surprise, when he got to the house and walked through the front door, he nearly collided with Jim, who apparently was just leaving. Startled, the teen looked up at his father, his mouth opening then closing without a word. Dallas stared at him, equally surprised. Then his expression went from puzzled to rigid. He came inside and shut the door behind him. Jim swallowed nervously.
"What are you doing home?" his dad asked in a monotone voice.
"Uh…I, uh…"
"Today's a school day. Why aren't you in school?"
"I, uh…well, I was at school…" Dallas looked at him.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"I was just…aw, come on, Dallas!" Jim finally snapped. "Like you never skipped school before?"
"Of course I did. But my dad didn't care. Yours, on the other hand, is gonna kill you!"
"Oh, whatever." Jim muttered, but winced when he saw the look on Dallas' face.
"What's the matter with you? I mean it, what's your problem?" Jim groaned.
"Dallas-"
"Don't start whining, get in the car!" Dallas snapped. Jim glared at him.
"Dallas, I'm not going back today."
"Yeah, yeah." Dallas grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked him outside. "I said get in the car!" Jim climbed in, swearing under his breath. Dallas was almost never home during the day, which was why he'd thought that it would be okay to be there. He'd needed to come home to get something- his solar-surfer. Why had Dallas come home early? He waited in the car for Dallas to come outside. When he did, Jim noticed he was carrying a vanilla-colored file. He frowned, vaguely wondering about it. He didn't think about it long, however, because when Dallas got in the car, he immediately turned on Jim. "What the heck do you think you're doing? Huh?" Jim felt his face redden.
"Nothing." he spat as Dallas tore out of the driveway.
"No, I mean it, what's your damage-"
"My damage?" Jim shot back. "You barely even notice I'm alive, and now all of a sudden you care about the grades I make?!" Dallas shot him a heated look, then turned his attention back to the road.
"Don't you yell at-"
"Why not? You're yelling at me! So I skip school, so what? Why does it matter?!"
"Did it ever occur to you that they'd hold you back?" Dally snapped back. Jim set his jaw. In truth, it had. And he'd considered what would happen if he was stuck in the tenth grade until he turned eighteen. But he'd already decided to run, so what did it matter?
"So what if they do? Soda dropped out of high school when he was seventeen, and he's doing okay!"
"Soda works at a gas station. Do you honestly want that kind of life?"
"What does it matter to you what I want?" Dallas pointed at him.
"Look, when you turn eighteen, you can run away and join the circus for all I care! But you are not going to just let your grades slip, not in my house! Do you understand me?"
"Why the heck do you care?!" Jim shot back. "All you care about is yourself! That's all you've ever cared about!"
"You shut your mouth!"
"I'll drop out. Like Soda." Dally's eyes widened.
"No. No, you won't." He said, his eyes as cold as ice. Soda's wrong, Jim realized. I've got his eyes. "From now on, you're gonna stay in school, and I'll make sure of it. You show your face around town, and I'll know about it. And if you ever skip again, I'm gonna beat the tar outta you!" Jim threw him a hateful glare.
"Can't you just leave me alone? You've had no problem with it for the past eight years!" Dallas winced.
"Your mom was still around to take care of her kid." Dallas pointed out icily, barely stopping at a light in time. Jim narrowed his eyes.
"Just in case you haven't noticed, I'm not a little kid anymore. Two more years, and I'm done with you, with that house, with this town, all of it!" Dally glared at him.
"You shut your mouth, or you'll be outta here before that." he spat as he pulled up in front of the school
"Hasn't it occurred to you that I want to get out before that?" Even as the words formed, he regretted it. He'd never said anything like it to his mom. He never imagined he would say it to his dad. And as soon as the words left his mouth, Dallas changed. He lost the sharp, dangerous look that came over him when he was mad. The corners of his mouth lowered slightly. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, they held a disheartened light. He turned his head as if he were looking at something out the window, and said in a flat, emotionless voice,
"Get back to class." Jim practically leapt out of the car, but before he'd shut the door, Dallas added, "You're grounded. I'll pick you up later." Jim turned around to argue, but he was stopped as Dallas pulled his door shut. His temper flaring, Jim almost felt mad enough to stamp his foot. He felt ridiculous, like he'd just thrown a tantrum. But he was also upset because Dallas had just messed up his plans with Sam. Again. With an agitated growl, he turned back to the high school and slipped inside. He waited there until Dallas' car sped out of the parking lot. He was about to open the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and winced when he saw the principal, Mr. Sikes, glaring down at him.
"Ahem. Mister Winston, I'm sure your teacher for this period is aware of your absence." he said sternly. Jim nodded and slunk off in the direction of his class, which just happened to be English. Apparently, one of the Socs had gotten into it with a greaser boy in the class, as the other students were grouped around them. The teacher, Mr. Ward, was trying to separate them, with little success. Jim slipped in silently and took his seat next to Rontamel. Ronto shook his head with a grin.
"Thought you left?" he snickered. Jim shrugged, not really in the mood to talk. Ronto's smile disappeared. He could sense something was wrong, and immediately he thought of Sam. "What happened?" Jim rolled his eyes.
"My dad caught me leaving the house." he muttered. Rontamel gave him a puzzled look.
"And he made you come back?"
"He drove me over here." Jim said, his contempt for his father plain on his face. "And apparently I'm grounded, so my weekend is off to a wonderful start." Ronto shook his head, amazed.
"Wow. I always thought...I mean, Dallas...wow." Jim shrugged.
"That's what everyone seems to think. That just because he's a hood, he'll just let me get away with anything." He blew his bangs out of his eyes. "I wish."
"Well, you gotta admit, going home was a stupid move." Jim let his head hit the desk in front of him with a thud.
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." he muttered, then groaned. "Sam's expecting me to drop by in less than twenty minutes, and not only can I not go now, I can't even check in with her later and explain what happened." Ronto patted his shoulder mock-sympathetically.
"This too shall pass." Jim looked up at him, thinking.
"Well...I can't go. But maybe...you...?" Ronto shook his head.
"No."
"But-"
"Forget it."
"Come on, man!" Jim pleaded. "It wouldn't even take that long. All you'd have to do is tell her what happened." Deep down, Ronto wanted to go to clear Jim's name and help him out. Not so deep down, he wanted to go anyway. He wanted an excuse to see Sam, and this was as good as any. But again he shook his head.
"That's not my business. That's between you and her."
"Aw, come on!" Jim snapped. "I'd do the same for you!"
"Yeah, but I didn't ask." Jim glared at him, and then his accusing look turned to one of puzzlement.
"Why are you getting so weird?" Ronto frowned.
"What are you-"
"Alright, that's it!" Mr. Ward finally shouted, shoving the arguing greaser and Soc towards the door with an irritated growl. "Principal's office! Now!" After they left the classroom, Jim kicked his feet up on the desk.
"Seriously, man. What's up with you? Yesterday you were all for helping me sort things out with Sam. Now it's like you're afraid to be around her." Ronto sat on the floor, his back pressed against his desk. If you only knew. he thought, then shook his head.
"I just don't want to get involved with you guys. I'm not a marriage counselor." he added with a grin. Jim rolled his eyes and lightly kicked his shoulder, grinning in spite of himself.
"Shut up. I'm serious. All I'm asking you to do is just tell her I'm on lockdown for a few days."
"You think your dad'll let you out soon?"
"Please. When I was stuck at home, I couldn't tell who was more miserable, me or him. Besides, he works every day except Sunday, and it's not like he can chain me to the wall. I'll get out whether or not he lets me." Ronto scoffed at the idea.
"If I double-crossed my dad like that I'd be road kill." Jim shrugged.
"Your dad's too cool to blow up on you like Dally does me. He hit me once." Ronto glanced up at him, surprised.
"No."
"Yeah." Jim said wearily, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Slapped me. And shoved me. Then told me to get lost, so I did." Rontamel was quiet for a minute, then face-palmed.
"You sneaky little-"
"Yeah?" Jim chuckled.
"I have no pity for you. It won't work!" Rontamel insisted, trying not to laugh. Jim nudged his ribs with the toe of his sneaker.
"Yes it will. It will. It will!"
"Cut it out!" Jim kept it up until Ronto shoved his leg away, causing Jim to topple out of his chair. They sat there snickering, ignoring the icy stares of their classmates. Ronto shook his head. "Alright, alright. I'll do it." Jim punched the air.
"Nice. Thanks man, I owe you one." Ronto shrugged, pretending like he wasn't excited. That his heart wasn't racing. That he was bored with the subject.
"Yeah, no joke.
o~O~o
Dallas glanced nervously at his attorney's face as he scanned the papers.
"Well...legally, you're his rightful guardian. But definitely not his only option." Dallas let his gaze travel to the window of the small office, as if in a daze. Out of everything that could have happened, out of all the people to throw a wrench in the works, it just had to be Trisha. He waited patiently as the man in front of him poured over the papers he'd brought, his criminal record, and several other documents. For the longest time, he said nothing. And when he looked up from them, his expression was not one of hope.
"Well?"
"It doesn't look promising." the other man sighed.
"So that's it? She just waltzes in here and demands that I give him to her, and she can do that?"
"Well, it's not really that simple. You see, she'd have to have proof that you're not capable of providing for him, or that you're neglecting him in some way." He glanced over the top of the papers. "You're not having any...problems, are you?" Dallas shook his head a little too vigorously.
"No, we're not. We're fine. And she needs to get her nose out of our lives."
"Mr. Winston, she's got as much potential as a guardian as you do. If- and I do mean if- you fail to raise your son properly, then his aunt has a very good chance of taking him away from you through the court system. Normally, a relative that wants to take a child from his or her parents has to go through quite a bit of trouble, but in your case...well, your criminal record speaks for itself. It's a miracle the court hasn't taken a closer look at your case this far." Dallas looked back at his attorney. David had been working with Dallas for years, helping him avoid hard jail time for the crimes he'd been accused of, but he'd never seen Dallas so worked up. It startled him.
"What should I do? I've got a job, the kid's in school, what else can I do?" The attorney, David Shwelp, readjusted his glasses and examined the hospital bill on his desk.
"It looks like Jim spent some time in the hospital. What happened?"
"He got jumped by a couple Soc's." Dallas muttered tensely.
"Friends of yours?" This question received an icy glare by way of answer. "Right. Well, that's one thing you definitely want to avoid. Child endangerment. And if there's any possible way you could have had anything to do with those Socs, you could be tried for child abuse." Dallas winced.
"I'd never do something like that. He's my son."
"And I realize that. But this woman...Trisha? She seems to have all her bases covered. And you did leave Jim and his mother when he was just a child. The court will not take kindly to that." Dallas clenched his fists.
"They didn't leave me any choice!" he all but shouted in David's face. "What was I supposed to do? Huh? Tell me that!" David held up his hands in defense.
"I'm not saying you could have stayed. I'm trying to help you, Dallas." The greaser drew in a steady breath to calm himself. He turned back to the window.
"What do I do now?"
"You need to take small steps. This area isn't an ideal place for kids his age. The gang activity has increased dramatically over the years, and even if he manages not to get involved, I'm suspecting those Socs meant business for some reason."
"So you're saying I have to move?"
"I'm saying it's a good idea. You don't have to, though. But you definitely need to keep a close eye on him, make sure they don't come back for round two or something of that nature. How is he doing in school?" David asked, and Dallas laughed mirthlessly.
"Could be better. Could be worse."
"Does he have a high number of absences?" Dallas was about to say 'no', but stopped. He'd just caught Jim skipping. Who knew how many times he'd done it before?
"I-I don't know." David raised and eyebrow, but let it go.
"You mentioned that you have a steady job. That's good. Now, do you own a house in this area?"
"No, I'm renting."
"I see. What sort of condition is this house in?" Dallas pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Poor."
"Care to elaborate?"
"Okay...it's Merril's place." David asked no more questions. Instead, he straightened the papers up and put them back in the folder, then handed them to Dallas.
"You may want to look into fixing the place up a bit. Social Services contacted me, they'd like to send a representative out to have a look. Nothing serious, but you definitely want to clean up. They're very...precise." Dallas nodded.
"Will do."
"And one more thing. Mr. Winston, I know you're not typically a religious man, but...it wouldn't hurt to attend a Sunday service once in awhile." Dallas nodded mutely. He hadn't been to church since he was seven years old. And there happened to be a very good reason.
o~O~o
When Dallas got home, he was surprised to find Jim at the house. He stared at his son before realizing what time it was.
"You get a ride home?"
"I walked." Jim deadpanned, not glancing up from his homework.
"Did you come straight home?"
"Of course not, I hit the bar first, what do you think?" Jim muttered, sulking.
"Don't get mouthy with me." Jim rolled his eyes, but said nothing. "Did you walk by yourself?"
"Ronto and Gauge were with me." Dallas nodded, then sighed. He sat down on the couch next to Jim.
"Uh…I think we need to talk." Now that he finally had the time, Dallas didn't know where to start. Jim put aside his books and waited, staring at the wall in front of him. Dallas rested his elbows on his knees, pressing his fingertips together. "I know I…wasn't around when it mattered. My dad took off, too. I know." He looked at Jim apologetically. "I know it must've sucked. And I wasn't around a whole lot before that, and I'm sorry." Jim shrugged, his eyes dropping to his sneakers. "What you said earlier…look, your aunt Trisha called." Jim turned to Dallas.
"What?" He asked softly, "Why?"
"She's…concerned. She knew about…well, that I've done time, and she contacted a lawyer. She doesn't think you're safe here. She…wants you to live with her." Jim was silent. He remembered what he'd said when Dallas had chewed him out about skipping school, and winced. He was starting to become afraid. Where was this going?
"…yeah?" he said, hoping his father had more to say.
"Well…I'm not…I don't…" he sighed again, then looked his son in the eyes. "I messed up, alright? I really screwed things up. Your mother didn't deserve it, and neither did you. I loved both of you, and I though that things would be easier without me there. Jim, I'm your father. I love you. I don't want to abandon you again, but if you want to live with your aunt, then you can. I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to do." Jim sat up[ straighter.
"No! Dad-" he stopped, paused. "…Dallas, I don't want to live with her. She hates me. And…Dally, please don't let her!" Dallas smiled sadly.
"I wish I could say you don't have to. But she's definitely got the upper hand here. I went and met with my attorney today, and he says she has a good chance at…well, taking you away."
"There's got to be something we can do."
"Well, there is. Someone from Social Services wants to come out and see the place, check things out. So we can fix this dump up a little. And you need to stay in school." Jim rolled his eyes at this.
"Alright, I got it." Dallas shook his head, laughing. Jim smiled, then became serious again. "Could she really do it?" Dallas bit his lower lip.
"It's possible." He tousled Jim's hair. "Don't worry about it kid." Jim nodded.
"…I'm sorry. About what I said. I didn't mean it." Dallas only shrugged.
"Just don't get to runnin' your mouth like that." Jim shook his head.
"I won't." He meant it. He never wanted to say something like that again.
"And yes, you're still grounded." Jim shot him a look. "Get over it."
o~O~o
Ronto shook his head as he walked up to the gate. He had mixed feelings about going to the scrap yard. On one hand, there was Jim. The gang had always put each other first when it came to girls. It was an unspoken law. It was also common sense. They'd known each other all their lives. But Jim was a recent addition. He'd grown up in another town, on another planet. But he was still part of the gang, and a good friend as well.
Then, on the other hand, there was Sam. She was a greaser, and she was hot, and she was completely off-limits. But he'd seen her checking him out. At least, he thought she'd been. He hoped she'd been. He liked her. He was attracted to her. And, after all, Jim had practically begged him to come and talk to her. So he had a reason. So why did he feel guilty?
He rapped on the metal gate, and waited. Sam opened it and stepped out onto the street, effectively erasing any doubt Rontamel had had. She was, in a word, stunning. A black strapless tube top, short-shorts, sandals, and the perfect figure to pull it all off. Ronto gave her a smug smile when he noticed the surprise on her face.
"Expecting your lover boy?" Sam regained her composure.
"Yeah…I was. Let me guess, he can't make it." Ronto shook his head.
"Afraid not. His dad caught him skipping, he's grounded for awhile." Sam nodded, then leaned against the gate.
"So he sent you." Ronto nodded.
"Didn't want to leave you waiting." She studied him for a minute, tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. Her feline-like eyes sized him up. He was doing the same with her. Finally, she smiled back at him.
"Well. Thank you. I'm just so disappointed. I was so looking forward to going out tonight." she said, then sighed. "I guess I'll just have to stay home." Rontamel took the bait.
"Well, you could. Or maybe…we could hang out."
"You know," she purred. "I think I'd like that."
A/N: Okay! Chapter 7. I know I took my sweet time doing it, but here it is. *le gasp* Well, hanging out isn't cheating, right? *sarcastic*
If I was offered the chance to meet my characters I'd turn it down in a heartbeat. They'd kill me if given the chance.
-xXSilverEyesXx
